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kiki-shortsnout · 3 years

Note

For the intimacy prompts 13, 17 & 18 with IronStrange? It just seems really cute! 😁

Hey! Thanks for the prompts! I think I got them all in this piece!! Hope you like it!

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‘You ever think about taking a break?’ Warm, calloused hands crept over his eyes, obscuring the biology textbook he was reading.

‘I can take a break after exams,’ Stephen answered, trying to dislodge his roommate’s hands, craning his neck to peer over his fingers, still murmuring as he read under his breath.

‘Come on, baby, you’ve been at it for hours, I’ve been out for lunch with Rhodey, stopped off for a coffee, and you haven’t moved from that position. That can’t be good for your spine…how many times have you chewed me out about not becoming exhausted.’

‘One more hour,’ Stephen told him, still reading.

‘Stephen, seriously this-’

‘One hour, Tony, you can entertain yourself for one hour!’

The forearms resting on his shoulders went tense, hands slipping away from his face.

Damn it.

Dropping his pencil down onto his book, Stephen sighed and swiveled himself around in his chair, catching the back of Tony’s belt loops as he walked away. Tugging him back, Stephen slung his arms around Tony’s hips as he hung his head.

‘Sorry, Tones…it’s just-’

‘Your stressed, I know,’ Tony told him, encouraging his head forward onto his stomach with gentle hands. His eyes slid shut as Tony’s hands slid up into his hair, blunt nails trailing over his scalp, and then running through his hair, lightly tugging on the strands that the back of his head. Stephen pushed his head further into the warmth of his stomach, feeling himself melt at the attention.

‘One more hour, okay? then I want you to take a break and eat something,’ Tony said, curling his fingers in Stephen’s hair one last time.

‘Says the guy who keeps me awake with all his late night binges when inspiration strikes him,’ Stephen scoffed, leaning back in his chair to look up at him.

‘And you always shout at me to stop and rest, this is me returning the favor…I just phrase it in a nicer way,’ Tony grumbled, patting Stephen on the cheek before he pulled away.

Stephen turned back around in his chair, trying to refocus on his biology textbook, but his concentration was shot, and he kept rereading the same last paragraph over and over without retaining the information. He found himself listening to the sounds of his roommate moving around behind him, his lips lifting as he realized Tony was cleaning.

Tony was one of the messiest people he knew, was chaos personified, but there was a certain order to his mess that only he understood, reluctant to clean it away, and Stephen knew the only reason he was tidying up was to give him one less thing to do.

Sometimes he couldn’t quite believe how they’d gotten here, roommates by chance, boyfriends by choice. At an initial glance they appeared to be polar opposites, Tony Stark a rich kid admitted into college early for being an engineering genius, and Stephen, a poor nobody from Nebraska, desperate not to take over his family farm.

Within the initial weeks of them meeting they had been locked in some sort of silent, passive-aggressive war, neither willing to give the other the time of day, both making their shared living space a nightmare for the other. Tony waking Stephen up at all times of the night by bringing home his latest conquest, and then Stephen waking him up at an ungodly hour in retaliation by ripping open the blinds to let in the beaming sunshine.

It was only after Tony had caught him with furious tears in his eyes after a frustrating phone call with this father, that animosity between them had ceased. Tony had looked down at him huddled in his navy blue comforter, only to turn on his heel and leave the room. He’d returned half an hour later with a box of Thai Takeout, Stephen’s favorite, and sat beside him on the bed.

‘Dads are the absolute worse,’ he told him, pushing food into Stephen’s hands, waving away any protests about Stephen not having enough money.

Stephen returned to the present as he saw movement in his peripheral, his mug placed by his elbow. Tony was trying to be as inconspicuous as possible placing it down, but it still thunked loudly on his desk, some of the tea spilling over the edges. Saying nothing, Stephen picked it up by the handle, inhaling the scent of jasmine as he stretched his neck out from side to side.

Stephen couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment things had changed between them, it’d been a gradual process, going from late night talks, to Stephen watching out for the younger man when they’d been at parties, little messages left for the other on the whiteboard on the back of the door. Then, it had progressed to a few lingering touches, and then, finally after weeks of fretting about it, Stephen had kissed Tony late one night while they’d been listening to music and studying.

Taking a sip of his tea, Stephen leaned back in his chair, looking up at the wall in front of him, the few photos he’d stuck on the wall of himself and his sister, Donna. Happier memories of his childhood mixed with a few photos of when she’d come to visit him at college a few months ago. In the middle of them all was a picture of Stephen and Tony, both of them wrapped up against the cold, Tony sharing his scarf as he took the selfie, his mouth stretched wide in a grin.

This…this wasn’t going to last forever. They would, Stephen couldn’t imagine his life without Tony, not ever. They might be young, but Tony Stark was the one thing he was going to keep in his life, their future careers be damned, the expectations of their fathers. Real life would undoubtedly come with its own demands, but for now, their life was studying and hanging out with their friends.

The best time of their lives.

He shut his textbook and pushed himself away from his desk.

Stephen turned back around, taking a moment to watch Tony on the pushed together beds, taking a mental snapshot of the moment right here, right now. The room was a mash of their personalities, Stephen’s side neat and orderly, textbooks stacked with precision, pens neatly in their holder, pristine and clean, the ideal study area. Tony’s side of the room had so many posters stuck to the walls it was impossible to see the wall beneath. Clothes were strewn over his desk and chair, a Jenga tower of screwed up pieces of paper wobbled on the corner of his desk, next to the half-chewed pencils.

Honestly, how had they gotten together?

Tony glanced up from his book as Stephen got to his feet, some of the blankets piled around him slipping down to his waist as he sat straighter from where he’d been leaning against the wall.

‘I’m being quiet,’ he panicked as Stephen walked towards him, book tumbling to the bed.

‘I know, and thank you for the tea, and the cleaning up. C’mere,’ Stephen told him, lifting aside the blankets, snuggling in close.

‘You finished already?’ Tony went without protest, head on Stephen’s shoulder and arms snug about his waist.

‘No, but you’re right, I needed a break, and a Tony recharge.’

‘I can do that for you,’ Tony laughed, hooking his foot over Stephen’s knee.

They sat together on their beds, not talking, taking comfort from each other. The sounds of some of the guys playing football outside drifted in through the window, music flowed down the corridor from the room next door.

‘You ever think about the future?’ Tony asked, squeezing Stephen a bit tighter.

‘Mmm,’ Stephen made an agreeing noise, resting his cheek against the crown of Tony’s head. ‘I was just a minute ago in fact.’

‘Does it scare you?’

‘Sometimes. Exams, medical school… I’ve still got years ahead of me while you…’

‘We’ve spoken about this, I’ll wait for you to finish, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll probably have to start working for Stark Industries as soon as I’ve finished, but that doesn’t mean I’m not waiting for you to become a rich doctor so I can become a man of leisure.’ Tony yelped as Stephen kicked him under the blankets.

‘As if. You become CEO and I’ll become the man of leisure.’

‘Whatever, you’d be bored after a day of it. You were born to help people Stephen, don’t let anything stop you.’

That was one of the things Stephen loved most about Tony, how supportive he could be, his fierce and stubborn loyalty to those he called his friends.

‘Whatever happens, Tony, I want you in my life. Even if you become sick of me being on call, and I become sick of not understanding whatever engineering equation you’re trying to explain… I want to do it together, with you,’ Stephen whispered, reaching out with a hand to cover Tony’s one on his waist.

Whatever the future held, they’d meet it, together.

#writing prompt #thanks for the ask!#Fanfiction #ironstrange #college au #tony stark #Stephen Strange

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aegor-bamfsteel · 3 years

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How long does it take to travel to King’s Landing from Dragonstone?

I wanted to focus a meta on a seemingly minor detail that, if you look into the likely circumstances surrounding it, reveals an important piece of characterization of Da3ron II that I don’t think has been discussed. AWOIAF says, regarding Da3ron’s reaction to his father’s death: “[he] departed Dragonstone within the fortnight after learning of his father's demise and was swiftly crowned by the High Septon in the Red Keep.”

If Aegon IV had died, and then Da3ron had arrived from Dragonstone and been crowned within 2 weeks (equal to a fortnight) of this death, that would’ve been understandable. However, the “and” signifies that Da3ron was crowned after the fortnight; it took within a fortnight of being told of Aegon’s death (not Aegon’s death proper, just when he heard the news) for Da3ron to pack his things and travel from Dragonstone to King’s Landing. The implication is that the journey from Dragonstone to KL takes nearly two weeks by sea. I was so puzzled at the idea that the Targaryen’s home castle was so far away from their capital (that they chose to build in that location partially because it was that close to Dragonstone) I checked the Errata of The World of Ice and Fire to see if it was a misprint in the way Myriah Martell’s name was; it was not. Da3ron took nearly two weeks after hearing of his father’s death to arrive at King’s Landing, and was “swiftly crowned” only after. Which leads me to ask, how many miles by sea does it take to travel from Dragonstone to King’s Landing?

According to a map of Westeros and assuming that it is to scale, someone worked out the distance as 420 miles/675km by sea; it is 100 miles/160km from Dragonstone to Sharp Point on the mainland, and then 320 miles/515km of traveling west along the coast to King’s Landing. It is not mentioned what type of ship Da3ron took (galley, longship, carrick, caravel, etc; all of which travel at different speeds based on how they’re built, with longships being the fastest and galleys the slowest), how experienced its crew was (although since Dragonstone is known for its navy, you’d think they would be experienced), or if the winds were favorable, so I’m going to estimate the slow, average, and fast speed of arrival from Dragonstone to KL based on the sources:

If Westeros is anything like our world and the equator is located south of Dorne, then the prevailing winds would blow from east to west (easterlies) south of the Neck and from west to east (westerlies) north of the Neck. Dragonstone and King’s Landing are located south of the Neck, so the prevailing winds would be trade winds/easterlies; in other words, Da3ron would’ve had the wind on his side leaving Dragonstone, which would’ve increased his speed by as much as 1 knot/1.15mi. Travelling at less than 4mph/3.5knots per hour generally meant a sailing ship was travelling with unfavorable winds, so we can assume Da3ron never reached below that speed.

Ideal Conditions:

Under ideal conditions (favorable winds, a skilled crew) a sailing ship could average around 6knots/6.9mph over a trip (pre-modern vessels could “sprint” up to 12 knots, but this wasn’t sustainable). This translates to 168 miles per day, assuming sailing in the day and night (which Da3ron would’ve had to do at least on the first part of his journey to Sharp Point, as he’s sailing the open ocean). 420mi/168mi/d= 2.5 days, or 60 hours at maximum speed

Assuming Da3ron took a caravel, the maximum speed of which is 9mph or 150 miles per day, it would’ve taken 420mi/150mi/d= 2.8 days, or 68 hours at maximum speed

I doubt Da3ron took a galley, considering it is a slow ship most often used for war, but non-ironborn nobility in Westeros do seem to have more of them to their name (Cersei, Stannis, Alyn Velaryon use them as flagships) than other ships, so I’ll put these numbers in to show that even at the slowest built ship Da3ron should’ve made better time. They are on average about 3/4 as fast as caravels, so at maximum might reach 6.75mph, 112mi/d, so 3.7 days or about 90 hours at maximum speed

Average conditions:

The average sailing ship could go around 5knots/5.75mph; this translates into 73 hours or 3 days 1 hour on average

Average speed for a caravel is 4.5mph or 90-100mi/day. The lower range indicates this trip would take 112 hours, or 4 days 16 hours; the upper range is 101 hours, or 4 days 7 hours on average

Average speed for a galley is about 3knots/3.45mph; this translates to about 122 hours, or about 5 days on average

Slow conditions (slowest possible with still-prevailing winds):

As explained before, going less than 3.5knots/4mph via sailing ship meant generally unfavorable winds. Assuming the absolute slowest, the ship could expect to make the trip in 105 hours or 4 days 9 hours

Using the ratio that a galley is about 3/4 the speed of a caravel, its slow speed might be 3mph, which translates into 140 hours or 5 days 20 hours

In conclusion, assuming that Da3ron did not stop at any harbors along the way and traveled at a consistent pace, he should have arrived in King’s Landing within one week, not two, of learning of Aegon’s death. Even at the slowest pace, taking the slowest method of water transport, the trip does not equal 6 full days of travel.

It’s possible that, like Corlys Velaryon at the 101 Great Council, he brought the full Dragonstone fleet to King’s Landing to support his claim to the throne if he feared it was in danger (which makes sense in that he took so long to arrive, but was “swiftly crowned” after), but that would’ve lengthened the trip to 6 days at most (since a navy can only travel as fast as its slowest ship, the galley), and certainly not to nearly two weeks, since time is clearly of the essence in thwarting a potential coup. The idea that it took so long to prepare such a navy after hearing of Aegon’s death seems like a stretch considering the old king’s slow physical decline (see below)

A more benign argument is that after he reached Sharp Point, he did stop during the night, but assuming a night is 8 hours, that means even if he stopped every night along the journey (a ridiculously inefficient plan that practically defeats traveling by water, but to stretch out the time let’s pretend he might’ve done it) would’ve made the trip 76 hours or 3 days 4 hours at the fastest, and 172 hours or 7 days 4 hours at the slowest. Again, even at the slowest pace, with the slowest method of transportation, and now with long stops, it still would’ve taken barely more than half the time Yandel noted Da3ron actually spent to depart Dragonstone and arrive in King’s Landing. And how many days did he really need to pack his things and leave? I doubt nearly a week was really necessary...

Of course, that Da3ron might’ve taken a slower ship and stopped every night from reaching Sharp Point on ignores why he’s journeying to King’s Landing in the first place: his father just died and he is going to be crowned king, unmistakably the most important event of his life. As the crown prince, he has access to the fastest ships and most experienced crew. This is no time to stop to rest and leave the realm without a king (especially if you believe that others are plotting to take the throne, as Da3ron’s actions after arriving regarding Daemon Blackfyre and his father’s Small Council indicate). There is no technical reason why a journey that should’ve taken 3-4 days instead took nearly 2 weeks. The only possible reason for such a massive delay is a character-based one: that Da3ron did not wish to arrive in the capital so soon. Waiting that long almost undoubtedly meant he was not there for the funeral (given Aegon’s condition at death, it makes me think he was buried shortly after; in addition, the news of the death would’ve had to have reached Da3ron before he could depart, which would’ve taken 1-1.5 days by raven), which would’ve been the best opportunity to show filial piety, or at least pay respects to the old king from the perspective of a successor. Da3ron wore his father’s crown allegedly to prove his legitimacy, but the gesture seems rather empty after taking so long to come to the capital that he missed the funeral, and the coronation itself was the only event described as “swift.” It makes it seem as if he did not care for his father, purposely avoiding the capital until all mourning was done and then claiming his crown. This might have been the case given they were estranged the last years of Aegon’s life, but no matter his personal feelings, it would’ve been politically wiser if he were to come to King’s Landing as fast as he could, especially given the doubts of his legitimacy and his paranoia over claimants to the throne. The very tense succession of Viserys I to Aegon II officially took place on a single day; understandably such a short passage of time wasn’t possible in Da3ron’s case, but potential problems in a succession makes Targaryens act faster, not slower.

What makes matters worse is that Aegon’s death was obviously not sudden in the manner of Viserys II’s. TWOIAF’s description of his demise includes, “he was grossly fat, barely able to walk, and some wondered how his last mistress—Serenei of Lys, the mother of Shiera Seastar—could ever have withstood his embraces.” Serenei was Aegon’s mistress for at least a year, and undoubtedly a man who was barely able to walk does not have long to live. Toward the immediate end “his limbs [were] rotting and crawling with fleshworms”; there was even debate over this condition: “the maesters claimed they had never seen its like, whilst septons declared it a judgment of the gods” in addition to palliative care “Aegon was given milk of the poppy to dull his pain, but elsewise little could be done for him.” It seems like the final stage of Aegon’s illness could’ve taken weeks or even months, if there was time to discuss its cause and for worms to start eating his rotting limbs, or for final treatment and a damning decree to be issued. The health of the king is obviously politically important, especially to his heir, so I think it’s unlikely Da3ron wouldn’t have known about this final illness. Certainly by the time Aegon was unable to rise from his sickbed, Da3ron should’ve been able to tell the end was near; he very well could’ve reached King’s Landing before Aegon’s death, let alone before his funeral. That could have altered the course of Westerosi history if he arrived in time to contest the will that decreed all of Aegon’s illegitimate children be legitimized.

It’s important to note that it’s never explained why Da3ron was unable to undo Aegon’s deathbed decree. The Greens were able to successfully contest Viserys I’s will that Rhaenyra succeed him and instead crown Aegon II, once they got the majority of the Small Council on their side. In real life, Henry of Blois was able to release his brother Stephen and the rest of the barons from the vows they swore to uphold Empress Matilda’s ascension to the English throne, on the grounds that her father king Henry was wrong to make them swear the oath because it would threaten the stability of the kingdom (in addition to bribing the royal steward into alleging that the old king had changed his mind about the succession and nominated Stephen instead, which at least worked for William the Conqueror regarding Edward the Confessor’s will). It would’ve been even easier for Da3ron to contest the will because Aegon was in horrific pain due to ill health and given milk of the poppy, a drug that is known to “fill one’s head with clouds”; Da3ron could’ve said that Aegon was not in his right mind when he made the will and that any deathbed decrees should be discarded. If only he had come early enough to King’s Landing to plead his case before Aegon’s death, or failing that, to try to force a reversal through the High Septon or the royal steward shortly after, things might’ve gone better for him later in his reign.

To conclude what is a much longer meta than I expected, Yandel claimed that Da3ron arrived in King’s Landing from Dragonstone within 2 weeks of hearing of his father’s death. Through estimating the speed of certain ships and the distance between the two castles, we can determine it should have taken at most 6 days and in all probability more like 3-4 days if he conducted himself with any sense of urgency. But instead, he chose to arrive so far after Aegon’s death that he probably missed his funeral, which, coupled with the haste with which he was crowned, shows a lack of respect for a deceased father that goes against the teachings of the Faith of the Seven, the moral authority of Westeros (and probably fed rumors of his illegitimacy). Even worse, the nature of Aegon’s illness was so slow that Da3ron could’ve made it to King’s Landing in time to change or contest his will if he had bothered, thus getting rid of his potential rival’s legitimization. I can only infer that Da3ron’s actions were not motivated by political necessity (and in fact could’ve hurt him politically and socially), but by hatred for his estranged father. I don’t blame Da3ron for loathing a man who abused his mother and tried to start an unprovoked war with his wife’s family. However, I don’t think the characterization of him putting political necessities above personal feelings can hold water, at least where his own are concerned (the feelings of others under his guardianship, such as those of Aerys I, and perhaps those of Princess Daenerys and Daemon Blackfyre, might be different matters). Nor do I believe that he should get a pass for making politically unwise decisions due to personal grudges when Aegor Rivers, who also had long-term vulnerabilities (disgrace at 2 weeks of age, the execution of half of his family at 6 years, invited into a court that hated his family...and that’s before the Blackfyres start getting cruelly murdered) is reduced to a one-dimensional villain for behaving similarly.

#ASoIaF #asoiaf meta #what if #anti daeron ii #worldbuilding #westeros #ships #aegon iv #aegon iv targaryen #valyrianscrolls #travel

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kenobiapologist · 4 years

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Star Wars Novel Rankings

In celebration of the end of this year, I made a tier list of all of the Star Wars novels I’ve read since I joined this fandom in 2017 (which you can use to rank these books too). And I named all the tiers in a dorky but appropriate fashion. I would love to hear your thoughts on my rankings, as well as how you’d rank the books yourself! I’ve had a blast reading Star Wars novels from both Disney’s canon and the Legends extended universe over these past 3 years. Here’s to many more years of reading stories from the galaxy far far away!

I put longer (but not more coherent) thoughts below the cut.

The Chosen One: Bringing Balance to the Force and My Depressed Soul

1. The first spot of top tier had to go to Matthew Stover’s Revenge of the Sith novelization for obvious reasons. You simply cannot beat it. It’s a masterpiece. I literally had to put the book down to scream when I read the prose associated with the opening battle over Coruscant. It gave a whole new meaning to the triumphant music and the synchronous twirling of Obi-Wan and Anakin’s starfighters as they weave through blaster-fire in the battle over Coruscant. The rest of the book is the same way. You can’t put it down. I have wAyyYyYy too many feelings about this book oh my god.

2. Thrawn was a surprising book for me. For being centered on an admiral of the Empire’s navy, it had so much heart in it! I loved reading from Eli Vanto’s perspective too. god dammit I love that freaking Wild Space hillbilly dweeb with all my heart. I think his experiences getting to know Thrawn and learning from him guides the reader to feel much the same way as Eli by the end. Thrawn is a trusted friend, not the enemy you expect him to be. I could have done without Arihnda Pryce but she’s supposed to be unlikeable so I won’t blame Timothy Zahn this time.

3. The Clone Wars Gambit duology is basically Karen Miller writing fanfic and I’m HERE FOR IT. As is tradition with Karen Miller’s Star Wars novels, the emotions are dialed up the eleven. Our favorite dumbass Jedi team is back at it again with a mission to save the galaxy and this time they end up going undercover as two lumberjacks from the boonies. Anakin holds an energy shield back from collapsing with his bare hands like a total badass. Obi-Wan is in love with another woman despite it always ending in tragedy, while also bickering like a married couple with Anakin every ten seconds. get a fucking room, you two. These two books inspired one of my fics so they’re near and dear to my heart.

Jedi Master: These Books Have A Seat On The Council Too

4. Wild Space was appropriately named, I’ll tell you that. It’s a wild ride from start to finish. *slaps the front cover* this book can fit so much of Obi-Wan’s suffering in it! @forcearama has elaborated on the many reasons why this book is a gem in Snark Wars blog posts (linked here). It’s also the beginning of the best team-up since Anakin and Obi-Wan...Bail and Obi-Wan! These two bastards get under each other’s skin but it makes for the perfect character development. This book is the reason I screech with delight whenever Bail Organa appears on screen, or is mentioned in conversation. Bail gets a mysterious tip about trouble on a planet, and Obi-Wan decides to go with him to investigate. Cue Sith-induced suffering. It’s cool to see a normal person experiencing the weirdness of Force sensitives and how the world has this extra level of sensory information in it. Plotwise this one isn’t the best, but I think the interactions between characters really shine in this novel. Karen Miller’s writing is like a cup of hot chocolate to me. Indulgent character insight, full of sweet moments, has a bunch of extra marshmallowy dialogue, you’re reading it to have a good time but not to be satisfied with plot. You get me?

5. Do I even have to explain myself here? Kenobi by John Jackson Miller is both an interesting western-style tale set on Tatooine, and a beautiful character study of a man stricken with grief he keeps suppressed. How does one continue on when their whole family was murdered and their whole culture burnt to ash? I wanted to give Obi-Wan a hug the entire time I read this. The characterization was spot-on, from the way he wrangled animals to the way he severed a man’s arm off in a bar with his lightsaber. And when he meets a woman named Annileen Calwell, or Annie for short, Obi-Wan can’t bring himself to call her by her nickname ever and if that doesn’t just break your damn heart fucking fuck.

6. Ahsoka was the first Disney canon book I ever read and it kickstarted my love for E.K. Johnston. The writing is simplistic, but that makes it easy to jump into. Overall, it’s a quick and enjoyable read. By far the best parts are the flashbacks that mull over memories Ahsoka has of the time before Order 66. That shit hits you right in the heart, man. And the part where Ahsoka equates Obi-Wan and Anakin to her adoptive family ohhhhhhh god the tears they flow like a river. There are scenes that allude to Ahsoka becoming the vital part of the Rebellion we know her to be from Rebels, balanced with her current struggles to survive and find herself. Despite having cast away her identity as a Jedi and having any remaining bits of her culture destroyed by Palpatine, Ahsoka shows us all how bright a hero can shine in the darkest of times. AND SHE WAS WRITTEN AS QUEER! finally some good fucking food.

7. Oh shit, another E.K. Johnston book? Don’t be surprised. She’s a prequel fan and so am I, hence why Queen’s Shadow is so high on the list. E.K. Johnston pays homage to our favorite queen and badass senator Padme Amidala. There’s politics, there’s solidarity between female characters, and Bail Organa is in it so you KNOW I simply must give it a high rating. All jokes aside, I thought the story added lots of little details to the world of Star Wars without it being all stereotypical sci-fi nerdy language. You know how people want to describe something beyond our technological capabilities so they throw a bunch of nonsense together like “pre-praxis crystal bio-anode circuitry”? I’m looking at you, Karen Miller, I love you but please. There is none of that in this book. It makes sense, it adds color and culture and life to the worlds of Star Wars. Most of all, it devotes time and love to developing Padme outside of her place in canon as Anakin’s wife, Queen of Naboo, and Senator. She is all of these things, but she’s human too. I do agree that the pacing is slow, but it’s something meant to be savored, I think. E.K. Johnston really shines when she’s writing dialogue because she gets these characters. That’s something to appreciate, because not all canon books agree with the way we’ve perceived the characters as an audience.

8. Rogue Planet chewed me up, spit me out, and declared me an even bigger stan for The Team. People who say Qui-Gon would have been a better master for Anakin can ~get out~ because I could read about these two hooligans getting neck deep in space shenanigans all damn day. Anakin is like twelve, which is a time in his training that we don’t get a lot of in canon. Personally, I think it was equal parts heartwarming and funny to read about their adventures. There is some angst sprinkled in there because hey, we’re reading about Anakin here, let’s not forget the emotional trainwreck that is Anakin Skywalker. The duo is sent to a planet that makes super fast ships that are ?sentient? or at least biologically active. They bond with the pilot, which makes Anakin perfect for this mission. There’s a scene where these little floof things attach all over tiny Anakin because he’s so strong in the Force and it’s god damn adorable how dare he?? I’d probably rate this one even higher if I read it again, but it’s been awhile. Characterization is spot on and reminiscent of Matthew Stover’s writing in how it highlights the strong bond between Obi-Wan and Anakin, how they’re fated to know each other. I’m a sucker for soulmates, what can I say?

9. Lost Stars reads like a movie. Not a script, but just the perfect amount of detail that you can imagine the scenes but the pacing is still quick, the dialogue smooth and natural. I couldn’t help wishing this was a film because the story was so all-encompassing. The highs and lows of the emotions of both protagonists, their relationship developing, the differences in culture. Folks, this book has it all! It’s a totally different perspective on the events of the original trilogy, seen from the side of Imperial cadets training to become pilots. Eventually, one splits off and joins the Rebellion while the other perseveres in the Empire. It’s like star-crossed lovers, but covers so much more ground than that. And the characters are fully developed. These original characters knocked my socks off, and that’s hard to do since I’m usually an Obi-Wan stan through and through. For anyone uncertain of reading Star Wars novels, this book is a great place to start. Action-packed, emotion-filled, and stands on its own despite weaving perfectly into the established universe. What more could you want?

10. Back at it again with the prequel shit, amiright? Queen’s Peril is E.K. Johnston’s most recent Padme-centric novel and it does not disappoint fans that wanted a taste of the Queen’s side of the story. Set during the events of The Phantom Menace, we get a “behind the curtain” look at how all of the handmaidens came to be more than their title suggests. There’s teenage girls getting stuff done! It makes more sense why Padme was elected ruler of her home-world, and you come to appreciate that a royal leader is not alone; there’s actually a whole team at her side to help her overcome everything from the drudgery of daily governing to Trade Federation blockades that threaten to starve her people. I think if you enjoyed Queen’s Shadow, you’ll enjoy this book a lot. For those that are unfamiliar with Johnston’s work, I wouldn’t recommend this one first because it does cover events you’ve already seen in movies and therefore is a less suspenseful companion to them. On the other hand, because it does tie in with TPM, it doesn’t suffer from the pacing issues of Queen’s Shadow to the same degree. I read this all in one sitting, so it’s definitely fun, but wasn’t compelling enough in its character development to elevate the book past some of the others I’ve listed already.

11. Thrawn: Treason was a refreshing return to the Grand Admiral we all know and love after the second installment in this series slowed things down a bit. Although it wasn’t as character-driven as the first book (which I love with all of my heart), there were still many moments that had me cackling at the disparity between Thrawn’s immense intellect and the other Imperials’ sheer stupidity, and that’s what we’re here for in a book about the Empire, right? There’s a lot of pressure on Thrawn, as his TIE Defender project has been pitted against Director Krennic’s Project Stardust. Who will get the funds? We just don’t know?? Tarkin sits in between the two and as usual, manipulates everything to his advantage. Palpatine questions Thrawn’s allegiance to the Empire after some of the choices he has made, leaving him in even more of a pickle. Thrawn is sent on a wild goose chase task that should definitely end in failure (on purpose because Imperials all want to watch each other burn as much as they want to watch the Rebellion burn), but you know Thrawn will find a way. My main squeeze Eli Vanto makes his return after being absent from book 2. Missed you, my sweet sweet country boy. He doesn’t have a leading role in this novel, but every scene he’s in makes the story better. Thrawn says “perhaps” way too often for my taste, but if you can ignore that, this book is a solid read. Equal parts action and deductive reasoning, as any Thrawn book should be.

12. Most of Dark Disciple had me thinking this was going to be a top tier book, and damn do I wish we could have gotten this animated. We follow Quinlan Vos and Asajj Ventress on a mission to assassinate Count Dooku. Why the Jedi thought this was a good idea, I don’t know. But I’m here for it all the same. 3/4 of the adventure were intriguing, but the ending didn’t do it for me. I won’t spoil things for anyone who hasn’t read this yet, but after all of the character development, to have it squandered so quickly just left me disappointed? I got really attached to everyone in this novel, and I’m sure you will to. I’ve read this and listened to it as an audiobook, and actually I think it’s more memorable as an audiobook. Would recommend, except for Mace Windu’s voice being exceptionally southern for no reason. Weird. I think this novel captures all of the great things about The Clone Wars show; time to really get to know each character and their motivations, action and adventure with the darkness of impending doom tinting everything, and lightsaber fights! Plus, Obi-Wan and Anakin make appearances in this book and it just adds that extra bit of spice. Worth the read, even if you know they aren’t going to get Dooku in the end (which I am still mad about, screw that guy).

Jedi Knight: Passed the Trials but There’s Room for Improvement

13. Few books in the Star Wars universe are centered around characters with no use of the Force, but in Most Wanted, we see a young Han Solo and Qi’ra struggling to survive on Corellia and it provides a humorous but compelling backstory to both characters in the Disney canon. Han is his usual lucky goofball self, and Qi’ra is smart and cunning. You can see how they grew into the versions of themselves in Solo. While the book stays on the lighter side of things (typical of stories written for a younger audience), there are still moments of depth on droid rights, viewing the Force as a religion, and what life is like in a crime syndicate. Addressing these heavier topics without it killing the pace of the story is hard to do, but Rae Carson pulls it off flawlessly. I went into this book with no expectations and was pleasantly surprised by how much fun I had. Han and Qi’ra start off as competitors, but eventually have to learn to work together to survive as more and more people start hunting them down. They’re honestly so cute together, I loved their dynamic. It makes Solo a better movie, and although I liked it on its own, characters like Qi’ra needed a little more time to get to know, which you can get here!

14. Thrawn Alliances was not what I expected at all, and it took me a lot longer to get through. Hell, it has Thrawn, Anakin/Vader, and Padme in it! What’s not to love? Apparently, a lot. The different timepoints and perspectives in this were more jarring than anything else. Although the interactions between Thrawn and Anakin/Vader were enjoyable, it was not enough to elevate this book into the Jedi Master tier. Things felt dry, the characters didn’t grip me like in the first Thrawn, and it all felt like a ploy to introduce Batuu into canon before the launch of Galaxy’s Edge.

15. Leia: Princess of Alderaan was a dive into young Leia’s life before we see her in A New Hope even though this was marketed as a journey to The Last Jedi book, which I disagree with. We really haven’t seen any content about Leia in this time period before, and although I can’t say I was looking for this, I did enjoy it. The book was a little long, but there was adventure and the seeds are planted for Leia to be a bigger part of the Rebellion. The romance wasn’t too memorable, but Holdo wasn’t pointless in this (a stark contrast to her brief appearance in TLJ just to sacrifice herself). There’s a hint about Leia being Force-sensitive but it’s not in-your-face. It’s a typical coming-of-age story but in the gffa. The best part about this is seeing Bail and Breha as parents. I’m forever in pain that we didn’t get to see more of this in movies because it’s so so sweet. Leia must choose what kind of person she is going to be--and what kind of princess she will become. It won’t be for everyone, but I liked it.

16. Master and Apprentice was a typical Star Wars novel, which means it’s full of original characters that are strange and outlandish to serve the plot, a new world full of beautiful landscapes, and Obi-Wan suffering. I want to make it clear that this book is 80% Qui-Gon, 10% Rael Averross, and 10% Obi-Wan. I was expecting it to be 50% Qui-Gon, 50% Obi-Wan, as the cover suggested. Although I was disappointed by that, the story overall was okay. Qui-Gon is kind of an asshole in this? When is he not, though. We really get to sink our teeth into the way he and Obi-Wan fundamentally disagree with each other, so much so that their teacher-student relationship is falling apart. Tragic! They go on one last mission before calling it quits. Qui-Gon is in over his head with prophecies, Obi-Wan just wants to follow the rules, and Rael Averross is Dooku’s previous apprentice that is living his best life as a regent until Pijal’s princess comes of age. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a solid book. I just don’t vibe with Qui-Gon and want to whack him upside the head every time he avoids confrontation with his own student. My protectiveness for Obi-Wan is showing again, isn’t it? Yikes.

17. James Luceno is one of the most analytical authors I’ve ever read anything from, but it seems to always work? Tarkin is all about...well, Moff Tarkin. He’s ruthless, intelligent, and just downright evil. His backstory was compelling and I found myself drawn into the story by the details, although it is dense and took awhile to finish. I’m not interested in him as a character, but despite that, I enjoyed this story. The plot wasn’t memorable enough for me to recall after 3 years, but it’s similar to how Thrawn rose through the ranks of the Navy, just in a different part of the Empire’s governing body. We don’t get many books completely focused on a villain (I don’t count Vader ones because we know who he was before and the whole damn saga is about him), but this one is good! Don’t be fooled by it only being in the Knight tier. I think people who read a lot of sci-fi will like this book a lot. This is like the opposite of Queen’s Shadow, basically. If you had gripes about that book, you might like this one instead.

18. Battlefront II: Inferno Squad was a worthwhile read for anyone who played Battlefront II. Iden Versio is a great protagonist in the game, and I think Christie Golden totally gets her character. She’s nuanced and relatable. The whole team is interesting and getting introduced to each member before the events of the game makes everything mean more. That’s the real goal of any prequel story, I think. Accomplished! The action scenes are on point, the plot served to highlight what makes Inferno Squad special, and you get a sense for the morally grey area anyone must function in as an operative for the Empire. Although not necessary for the greater canon, it’s a great adventure. Iden and her squad members infiltrate the remains of Saw Gerrara’s group (they’ve become a bit of extremist) and destroy them from the inside. It’s got the suspense of a spy thriller and all of the nerdy space opera elements you expect from Star Wars. Although it’s weird to jump into a story not knowing any of the characters, you’ll get attached to Inferno Squad fast. Well, except for Gideon Hask maybe. He’s kind of a dick.

19. If you’re craving some Dark Side action, Lords of the Sith will give you what you’re looking for. Sidious and Vader crash-land on Ryloth and have to work together to survive, and also defeat the Free Ryloth Movement led by Cham Syndulla. It’s all fucking connected, guys. I love when people weave together stories that fit into the canon timeline like this, bringing in side characters and allowing them to develop some depth. And a chance to sink into the mind of a Sith Lord is always fun, if you’re in the mood to read about destruction and anger. It’s cathartic sometimes. If you’re always wondering, why didn’t Vader just stab Palps when he had the chance, this book explains their dynamic more. It didn’t really change my opinion of any of the characters, which is why it’s not higher on the list.

20. Catalyst suffered from being in a really boring part of galactic history. Despite that, Galen Erso and Orson Krennic have a hilarious relationship that I would have loved to see on-screen. This book really develops Krennic to become more than just the whiny entitled evil man we saw in Rogue One. He’s ten times worse now! But I mean that in the best way, I laugh whenever he’s in a scene, that sassy man just brings me joy. James Luceno is at it again, making things as detailed and dry as possible. I read so many of his stories right at the beginning of my journey through Star Wars canon and it’s a wonder I didn’t quit. Some of them are dark as fuck. And also slow as hell. With this one, I think it all comes down to what you want out of a Star Wars novel. Some people will really enjoy the plot. I think seeing how Galen became a part of Project Stardust was interesting and every time something about the Death Star became more clear, I screeched because I knew what it would eventually become. This book may not hold your interest though, which is why I put it lower on this list.

21. Star Wars: Clone Wars was a decent retelling of the Clone Wars movie. I liked it because I liked the movie, but you have to be able to sit back and enjoy the ride, not thinking too much about the silly parts. For that reason, it’s pretty far down in the rankings. Ahsoka is young and liable to get on your nerves. I certainly wasn’t her biggest fan at this point in the series. The biggest problem is that Karen Traviss is very anti-Jedi. Some authors for Star Wars tend to do this? To me, it’s weird. I didn’t notice it too much because it was one of the first Star Wars books I read, but it contrasts starkly with the truth of the prequel trilogy and some of the other entries in the Clone Wars Novel timeline, like Karen Miller’s books. Needless to say, although this book wasn’t super memorable aside from the familiar plot, it kept me reading Star Wars books, and so it is at least an average book. Plus, any content with Anakin and the clones is worth it for me. I love them.

22. A New Hope was good, for Alan Dean Foster. I’m not a fan, I’ll be honest. But this novelization stands on it’s own. I’m going to have to do a re-read to really go in depth on why this isn’t farther up on the tier list, but the movie is always going to be better to me. If you want to re-live the great beginning of the Original Trilogy, it’s worth your time. I mean, the story is full of adventure and mystery and lovable characters. What’s not to love? I just feel like the movie really elevates the narrative with a great score and fun character design/costumes/sets.

Padawan: These Books Have Much to Learn

23. Attack of the Clones was more entertaining than The Phantom Menace because the characters are in funnier situations. Obi-Wan and Anakin chasing Zam Wesell through the levels of Coruscant? Hilarious, just like the movie. Anakin and Padme falling in love as they spend time together? Holy fuck it’s so much better than the movie. Please read it for that alone. Outside of that, the writing style didn’t really impress me. And my experience with it wasn’t super memorable. There was potential to really make the inner dialogue of these characters impactful, to really develop the story of Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Padme beyond what we could get from the movie scenes alone. I didn’t think it went above and beyond there. Not a bad story at all, but you don’t get to look at Hayden Christensen, Natalie Portman, or Ewan McGregor the whole time either, so therefore I must rank it lower. So many beautiful people in that movie, holy shit. You can understand my, dilemma, yes?

24. I enjoyed parts of The Phantom Menace book, like deleted scenes with Anakin living on Tatooine before Qui-Gon and Padme meet him. The additional depth is lovely, but I think a story like Queen’s Peril adds more to TPM than this book does. The story overall is still fun. I love this movie so much, it’s hard for me to be critical. I did put a lot of post-it flags in my copy, so it does develop the characters and get you thinking beyond your expectations from the movie. What more could you ask for from a movie novelization? I’d say not much, if I hadn’t read Revenge of the Sith and had my fucking mind blown. In comparison to that, this one is just okay.

25. The Last Jedi novelization wasn’t bad, necessarily. It tried its best to bring this story up to par with some of the interesting novels that don’t have movie counterparts. But still, the plot suffers because of how this movie was made. It’s very focused on Rey and Kylo, and Finn’s little adventure with Rose seems pointless in the grand scheme of things. I’d rather read this again versus watching the film, but that’s all I’ll say on this because I’m trying to keep my opinions on this movie to myself to avoid digging up old arguments. Jason Fry did well, and of the two Sequel Trilogy books I’ve read, I would recommend this one over Ep. 7.

26. The Force Awakens falls short and I think it’s because of Alan Dean Foster’s writing style on this one? It didn’t really expand on anything from the movie, while taking away the beautiful music and visuals. This novel is the antithesis of Revenge of the Sith’s novelization, and for that reason I ranked it fairly low. I wouldn’t read this one unless you really really love the Sequel Trilogy.

27. To be fair, I read the new Thrawn book before I went back and read this one. Even so, Heir to the Empire didn’t impress me at all. Thrawn didn’t seem like a thrilling villain with lots of depth like he did in Timothy Zahn’s reimagined Thrawn novel. We barely saw him. A lot of time was spent on the Original Triology’s trio, which waasn’t bad. I thought Luke, Leia, and Han were all written fairly well. The latter part of the story was redeemed by the interactions between Mara Jade and Luke, for sure. Enemies to lovers, anyone?? Without Thrawn, this book would have been an entertaining story, but for all of the praise it has received from long-time Star Wars fans, I was expecting to be blown away and I wasn’t. Maybe I have to continue the triology to figure out what all of the fuss is about, but after this one, I’m not super motivated to read more. Change my mind?

28. Cloak of Deception really shines when you’re following Palpatine’s perspective because you can feel the undercurrents of his master plan to destroy the Republic underneath his calm persona as a Senator. Other than that, it’s a forgettable plot. This is all about galactic politics and some terrorist group trying to blow up some government officials. Basically the most boring parts of the prequel trilogy. I listened to the audiobook of this at the beginning of this year and I already forget what it’s about. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan should have been able to bring some humor and energy to get you rooting for the good guys, but there was barely any of that. I was disappointed in all of the characters. Everything felt distant, removed from the heart of the characters. Some people in reviews have argued that the events of The Phantom Menace really pinned this novel in a corner because you already know what happens, but I disagree, because we know how Revenge of the Sith goes and The Clone Wars show is that much more tragic and heartbreakingly beautiful because of it. Prequels can be done right. This ain’t it, Luceno. Sorry.

29. Star Wars: The Old Republic, Fatal Alliance needs to go home and rethink it’s life. I’m a huge fan of the Old Republic and I’ve put like 200 hours of my life into playing that game, so I was hoping for some fun content in this part of the timeline. Sadly, this book captured the worst parts of the game, like the fact that there’s way too many factions at war with each other. Jedi, Sith, Empire, Republic, Mandalorians. They’re all here. They’re all ready to throw down. And I’m tired. As with many of the books in this lower tier, I felt there wasn’t enough description of the world or the people in the story. We’re in the gffa, be a little weird and wacky. Be big and bold! Make things terrifying, or beautiful, or both. But give my mind something to work with. The number of characters made the plot messier than it could have been, and it definitely isn’t worth the read. I can’t speak for all Old Republic books, but this one didn’t impress me.

A Sith Lord?! On My Bookshelf? It’s More Likely Than You’d Think

30. So underwhelming, you might as well just read the first half and then stop. Last Shot is absolutely terrible, except for Lando Calrissian’s characterization, which was spot-on. If the whole story had been from his perspective, I probably would have a much difference opinion on the novel as a whole. Sadly, this is not the case. Han was boring, he bottled up his emotions, and seemed drastically different from the badass he was in the original trilogy. There are different timepoints in this novel, and in all of them, Han is unrecognizable. Don’t nerf one of your main characters like that. Daniel Jose Older and I might just not get along. I thought his writing style didn’t fit Star Wars at all. It was like breaking the fourth wall, totally pulling me out of the story constantly. Also, there were little to no descriptions of body language, locations, or movement. It left me feeling disoriented the whole time I was reading. I thought one of the most interesting things would have been seeing Han, Leia, and baby Ben being a family at this point in time, but Han’s family was there as a prop, nothing more. There was a big bad item that was going to cause galactic destruction and our heroes had to go save the day. There was barely any tension and no one lost an arm so I’m pretty pissed off. Is it Star Wars if no one gets their appendage removed? I can’t tell you how much I disliked this book. Which is sad because I was hoping to enjoy it. I like Han. I like Lando. I like space adventures. I’m not that hard to please, or at least I don’t think so.

#Star Wars Novels #tier ranking #long post #i worked hard to put my thoughts into words for you guys #i read these books over a long period of time but I thought I'd encompass all of it in one post #sw lit #i've had so much fun becoming a part of this fandom #and I love the conversations about the books and the gffa in general #hopefully this will inspire some discussion!#i would love you guys to make tier rankings as well #they're always my favorite youtube videos to watch

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bordeleaubeau · 4 years

Text

heather - j. hughes

based on heather by conan gray. wc: 3301

jack’s eyes nearly light up when his eyes spot you walking towards him in the crowded hallway. the navy blue sweater adorned your body, and just like always, the sight had a blush dusting jack’s cheeks.

“‘morning, jacky,” you smile at your boyfriend of two years, immediately wrapping your arms around his torso when you get close enough to him. you had a tutoring session before school, so unlike most mornings, you arrived to school earlier than jack and all your friends so he didn’t drive you to school.

jack presses a loving kiss to your forehead and you feel his smile pressed into your skin. “good morning, beautiful. your iced coffee, like usual.” the brunette reaches behind him to the locker he’s leaning on, grabbing the plastic dunkin cup to hand to you.

“god you’re amazing, thank you j,” you lean on your tippy toes, pressing your lips to his for a few seconds before you draw away. “let’s go to the others, yeah?”

jack is nodding in agreement right away. you knew he had just gotten to school considering his car keys were still in his hand and he hadn’t yet made it to his locker. you happily sip on your coffee, knowing since you were up extra early this morning the caffeine would come in handy. your free hand intertwines with jack, him giving your hand a quick squeeze as you round the corner into the hallway you and all of your group meets almost every morning.

“you know, that sweater looks a lot better on you than it does on me, you know that?” jack asks, gazing down at you with a smile on his face. you giggle, a blush crossing your cheeks as you go to spin around, but jack keeps your hand in his as he helps you twirl, the smile not once leaving his lips.

“you really think so, jacky? because you know how much i adore this sweater on you.” you ask, giving him a knowing look. and of course he knew - you always expressed how much you loved when he wore the navy usa hockey sweater.

“i know so.” he quickly kisses the top of your head as you continuing to walk, and you finally reach your friends that had their eyes on you since the two of you began to walk down the hallway. as if they couldn’t be more childish than they already were, trevor and patrick are faking gagging noises with their pointer fingers in their mouths. “cool it, you two.” jack says with an eye roll.

trevor gives his best friend a look, one that clearly reads, ‘are you serious?’ before he opens his mouth. “you’re a lovesick puppy, rowdie. admit it.”

in response, jack holds up both of his hands which in turn, holds up one of yours as well. “i admit it any time you make a comment. because god knows how much you guys call me whipped a day. and it doesn’t bother me.”

you and trevor both exchange a quick look, and you giggle as you wrap your arms around jack’s bicep and rest your head on his shoulder. “if you say so, jacky.” you press a kiss to his clothed shoulder before letting your head fall back down.

“jack, did you do the history homework? i swear mr. miller expects so much from - jack? hello?” johnny asks, waving his hand in front of jack’s face. your eyes follow jack’s gaze, as do most of the boys. “woah.”

your eyes land on the blonde girl walking down the hallway, and immediately you feel your heart sink in your chest. jack’s eyes follow her, and she must feel the attention from all of the boys as she turns her head and gives them a quick wave and a dazzling smile even miss america could be envious of.

you shrink down into jack a little more, your arms loosening around his bicep. you swallow hard and try to blink to bring you back to your senses. jack was literally mesmerized by the girl. your eyes meet abby’s, who are wide, but lucky enough for her cole could care less about the blonde and he’s scrolling through something on his phone.

crossing your arms over your chest you draw away from jack completely, swallowing hard to try and rid the lump forming in your throat. “who is that?” you ask, clearing your throat a little, as there’s a little bit of a squeak to your voice.

“that’s heather. she just moved here from california, she’s supposed to be in my calculus class,” patrick speaks up, his eyes still glued to the blonde girl until she’s rounding the corner into a different hallway. “what a sight she is.”

“yeah, for sore eyes.” you mumble under your breath, hoping no one hears, but unfortunately your boyfriend does, and the comment earns you a not-so-gentle nudge to the ribs. “ow!”

“not nice, y/n.” jack chastises, followed by an eye roll. but you can’t help the stinging feeling you have - and it’s not just in your ribs. yeah, the comment was a little uncalled for, but what were you supposed to do? your boyfriend was basically being ripped away from you right before your eyes.

you feel a pair of eyes on you, and you turn to your left to see trevor looking at you with concerned eyes - of course he was. trevor was the sweethearts of the group with the exception of moyni or johnny. he was also your best friend if you took jack out of the equation. ‘are you okay?’ he mouths subtly to you, in turn you shake your head ever so slightly, and you watch as a frown forms on trevor’s lips.

you give trevor a quick shrug before you clear your throat once more. “i, uh. i just remembered. i think i was supposed to go over something with kennedy before homeroom. i’ll see you all at lunch, yeah?” you ask, earning a few ‘yes’s’ from the crew before you started to make your way down the hallway without another word. and sure as hell without one to jack.

you blink away the tears that are threatening to pool up in your eye, hugging yourself tighter. suddenly you wanted to rip the sweater off your body. the smell of jack’s cologne was too nauseating in the moment, not when all you could think of was the way he looked at ‘heather.’

you feel a gentle tug on your bookbag, and you look over your shoulder to see none other than of course, trevor. “did you see that? did you see the way he stared-”

“i saw, y/n,” trevor cuts your rambling off with his soft voice. “trust me, i saw it. and we’re gonna give him shit for it later, okay? that wasn’t right.”

you let out a frustrated sigh, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you and trevor continue walking. “do you, do you have something in your locker i can wear, z? i don’t really wanna wear this anymore, and i’m not wearing a shirt underneath.”

trevor’s hand rubs at the back of his neck as a blush dusts his cheeks. “yeah, i think so actually. i think it’s just a hockey one, if that’s alright with you.” you know you should say no. but you don’t want to, because it’s only fair if jack gets a taste of his own medicine, right? and what better way is it than to be with both of your best friend?

“please?” you plead, and of course the brunette is nodding right away. “thank you trev, i just, i don’t wanna wear this right now. i’m not happy with him.” you hug yourself a little tighter as you and trevor walk towards where his locker is located.

“trust me, y/n. it’s gonna be alright, okay? jack probably, well, i don’t know what was probably going on inside his head. and we can get back at him if you want, because he deserves it. we can just tell him you spilled water on it in art class and you didn’t want to keep wearing it.”

you nod along with what trevor is saying and he puts the combination for his locker in before he’s grabbing the gray sweatshirt and handing it to you. “thank you. i’ll be right back okay?” trevor nods and you’re walking right to the bathroom. when you walk into a stall, you’re immediately pulling jack’s sweater over your head and pulling trevor’s on, immediately surrounded by the scent of trevor’s own cologne. and for some reason, it feels better. it feels right.

when you walk back out, and when trevor hears your footsteps, he looks up from his phone and just like that the blush is back on his cheeks. he has to clear his throat before he speaks, “much better, i believe.”

and just like that, the warning bell rings for your homeroom. “i’ll see you at lunch, z. and thank you again.”

- - -

you walk towards your normal lunch table, where literally everyone in your friend group sat every day, but today something is different.

you freeze in your tracks right away when your eyes land on the seat next to jack - your seat - was taken today. and by no one other than heather herself. if it weren’t for patrick already seeing you and waving at you, you would’ve turned around and simply gone to one of your teacher’s classrooms to eat lunch. but you begrudgingly trudge forward, having to opt for a seat two places down from heather, but in between trevor and johnny.

“hey babe!” jack smiles as you walk past him, and in turn you give him a tight lipped smile. “wait, who’s hoodie is that?”

“trevor’s.” you state simply, sitting down right in the seat and pulling out your phone. you never really ate at lunch anyway, and quite frankly the nauseating feeling in your stomach had never left and you weren’t sure if you could keep a lunch down anyway.

“i know i saw you two periods ago, but has your day gotten any better?” trevor asks from beside you and you give him a simple shrug. “still just alright?”

you heave out a sigh, “still just alright,” you confirm, mimicking your words from art class two periods prior from your lunch period. “i wanna go home, trev.” you grumble, locking your phone and placing it face down on the wooden table. “are you sure you have to leave and go to practice? you can’t stay here?”

trevor thinks for a few quick seconds, glancing over towards jack’s end of the table where he’s talking happily to heather. and not once has he asked how your day was going like he normally did by lunch. “text your mom and ask her if you can leave, if she says yes i’ll drop you off at home, okay?”

“okay,” you breathe out, taking your phone out of the sweatshirt pocket of trevor’s sweatshirt and typing a quick text to your mom. you tell her you feel sick - which isn’t a complete lie, after all - and ask her if trevor can drive you home. and while she adored your boyfriend, she also adored trevor just as much. luckily she responds quickly, saying it’s all good and she’ll pick you up ginger ale on her way home from work. “mama l/n said it’s okay.”

trevor smiles sadly at you as the laugh of heather and jack fill your ears. it’s like you aren’t even there - and jack didn’t even tell her that that was your seat. maybe you’d feel better about the situation if you were actually able to sit next to, well, your boyfriend. and not the blonde girl he was suddenly drawn to.

“y/n,” sydney catches your attention from across the table, and she gestures towards jack. “jack’s been trying to get your attention.”

you turn to jack, an unamused look on your face. and almost, almost does it threaten to turn into a smile due to the one on his face. but you weren’t the reason behind the smile. “y/n/n, we didn’t introduce you to heather yet! y/n, this is heather. heather, this is y/n-”

“jack’s girlfriend.” you cut jack off, giving the blonde a tight lipped smile. “nice to meet you.”

“it’s nice to meet you too!” she beams, and you’re taken aback from the enthusiasm she radiates. “i’ve heard a lot about you, you know. from trevor, abby, patrick, and i think the other was johnny!”

your eyes flicker over heather’s shoulder to jack, your heart heavy in your chest knowing damn well he hadn’t mentioned you were his girlfriend. the only take away being when he called you babe, and when you introduced yourself as his girlfriend. “well, i’m glad they had some nice things to say about me.”

jack tears his eyes away from yours and he goes back to eating whatever he had gotten for lunch already. heather gives you another smile before the both of you turn back in your seats, your eyes fixated on the wooden table until abby kicks your feet under it. your eyes meet hers, and it isn’t until her face softens that you realize there are tears welling up in them. ‘bathroom.’ she mouths and you nod quickly. abby then calls for fran, chelsea, and sydney leaving all the boys with heather.

you keep your head low so none of the boys can tell you were about to burst into tears and lead the girls out of the cafeteria and up to the girl’s bathroom. the girls are all silent behind you, each of them too scared to say a word in case you break. the tears flow down your cheeks freely, and it isn’t until you actually get into the bathroom that you throw yourself into the first girl’s arms that you reach. which just so happens to be francesca.

“oh honey,” the brunette coos in your ear, her hands rubbing up and down your back in an attempt to try and soothe you. but your sobs only rack harder through your body, and soon enough all the girls are joining in for a group hug.

“y/n/n, i’m sure he’s just intrigued that there’s a new girl. we like, never get new girls here, it’s always the usa boys,” sydney tries to reassure you, but you shake your head.

“syd he didn’t even tell her about me!” you exclaim, pulling your tear stained face out of fran’s chest. “it’s like two years means absolutely nothing to him. as soon as she walked down that hallway i lost him. he’s barely even paid attention to me today and we all know that jack is constantly all over me. he’s gone.”

the girls all stay silent, which is honestly just starting to confirm your suspicions. he was gone and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it.

- - -

jack: i might be saying something a little harsh

patty: then why are you gonna say it?

jack: y/n isn’t even half as pretty as heather

patty: woah there buddy.

tz: are you fucking serious right now jack? did you actually just say that?

squish: alright who let jack drink this early in the day.

tz: haven’t we all talked about how gorgeous she is?

patty: and how, oh i don't know, how many times you’ve said y/n is out of your league? and how you were confused on why she ever chose to date you?

knighter: jack, buddy.

your phone falls out of your hands and onto your mattress. two years. completely down the drain. the screenshot from cole had your heart literally breaking in two - you should have seen it coming. since heather’s first day jack and her had been getting closer and closer.

and then there comes the second picture.

you weren’t invited to the friday night hang out for probably the first time ever. but of course, heather had gotten invited and it seemed that she had taken your place. she was practically sitting on his lap, and to top it all off? the blue sweater. the one jack loved when you for it and vice versa. was covering her body.

with shaking hands you open your text thread with trevor, knowing he’d be one of the only ones to tell you the complete truth.

y/n: did you know about this? attachment: one image

tz: no y/n i didn’t. i stayed home tonight, early practice tomorrow.

tz: y/n/n i am so sorry.

y/n: i’m breaking up with him

you lock your phone, placing it face down on your mattress, leaning back against your headrest and tilting your head back to prevent the tears from falling. after a few minutes you compose yourself, pushing yourself up from your bed. you have an empty box in your closet, so you grab that and immediately begin putting anything of jack’s you have in it. any hoodies, t-shirts, sweatpants, even the little teddy bears he had gotten you for past valentines day.

but what hurt the most was taking off the promise ring that adorned your right ring finger. jack had gotten it for your two year anniversary, and it was hands down the most gorgeous gift he had gotten you by a long shot. you place the metal right on top of the pile making it the first thing he would see.

your phone buzzes from beside you, and part of you is scared that it’s going to be some sort of picture from cole again. but luckily - or maybe not luckily - it’s just a text from jack.

jack rowden:) : i’m home baby

you leave the boy on read, not even telling him you were going to be at his house in ten minutes. you grab the box and tuck it under your arm, making your way downstairs to grab your lanyard with your keys.

the drive to the hughes’ house suddenly feels like it flies by. which you weren’t expecting - you were absolutely dreading having to go and confront jack about this and part of you was even contemplating turning around and going back to your house. but before you know it you’re in the driveway and it’s a now or never situation.

each step makes it feel like you’re in slow motion, but eventually your knuckles meet the wooden front door, knocking on it until you hear a ‘coming!’ from the other side. the door opens and luke appears, a bright smile on the youngest boy’s face.

“hi y/n! what are you doing here so- what’s that?” his eyes widen, flickering from the box in your hands to your eyes. “are, are you breaking up with jack?”

you hesitate first, “it’s for the better, luke, i promise. jack and i just drifted.” you state simply, looking behind him to see jack starting to come down the steps.

“what are you doing here, y/n?” jack asks cautiously, and when luke moves out of the way he sees the box in your hands. “y/n.”

“jack,” you sigh, a short laugh escaping your lips. and of course, the tears start to sting your eyes because it was like you couldn’t even look at him without seeing her. “i just wanna know one thing, okay? and then i’m out of here and you never have to talk to me again.”

“okay…”

“why would you ever kiss me if i’m not even half as pretty?” the brunette freezes, and just like that he knows that you know what happened. what he had said. but you just shake your head and shove the box into his hands before turning away.

#jack hughes #trevor zegras #nhl #hockey #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #jack hughes x reader #new jersey devils #jack hughes imagine #spencer knight #cole caufield

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accirax · 4 years

Text

Obey Me Brothers as Virtues

Probably because of the angel outfit leak, I’ve seen a decent number of posts floating around lately talking about what the brothers would have been like in the Celestial Realm as angels of virtue. Most of those posts have equated the brothers with the virtue that’s the opposite of their current sin, and while those ideas are also great, I personally think that they’d fit better with different virtues. That way, the characters could still be recognizable as “themselves” as angels.

Keep in mind that these are just my headcanons, and that they’ll probably be destroyed by whatever event/lesson those outfits go with :,) Potential spoilers up to Lesson 21 because that’s as far as I’ve read.

PRIDE -> HUMILITY - Leviathan

Humility means having a low view of one’s own importance, and who does that fit better than the Avatar of Envy? This otaku is the third strongest of the brothers, the Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy, AND an amazing gamer (three attributes of equal importance), and yet he still doesn’t understand why MC would even give him the time of day. I’m sure that Levi would have similarly belittled his own importance in the Celestial Realm as the Angel of Humility.

GREED -> CHARITY - Asmodeus

On the surface, this might not seem like the best fit. Asmo, the attention-seeking narcissist, being the Angel of Charity? But Asmo’s self-centered ways fit perfectly when you consider exactly what he’s being generous with-- himself. Asmo is always sharing every part of himself to the world: his time, his thoughts, and his body. As an angel, he could have inspired others to be charitable with their love, just as he shares his self-proclaimed wonderful qualities with everyone around him.

ENVY -> KINDNESS - Beelzebub

Come on. You know that Beel, resident cinnamon roll of the House of Lamentation, would have to be the angel that embodies kindness. He shows so much affection to all of his brothers, Belphie especially, and obviously towards MC as well. Even though he’s the Avatar of Gluttony, he still tries his best to make people happy by sharing his food with them when they’re sad. As the Angel of Kindness, his protective nature was probably a kind blessing for those who needed it. And his hugs. But those have probably stayed mostly the same.

WRATH -> PATIENCE - Mammon

Mammon? Patient? The demon who’s always breaking into your room, and clinging to you, and refusing to sit down and do his work? MAMMOOOOON?!? Impersonations of Lucifer aside, Mammon actually shows a great amount of patience all the time, considering how his brothers treat him. As in, they’re so mean to him. Constantly. And he just... takes it. As the second strongest brother, he could easily teach any of his brothers (besides Lucifer) a lesson the next time they mouth off against him. But he never does. And he’s never turned against MC either (I get the sense that this is true past 21), even when they're throwing themselves or spending time with someone other than him (blasphemous!). Plus, some of his Devilgram stories show that he’s willing to be very patient when it comes to a relationship. Mammon’s secret emotional strength shows the restraint that he could have embodied as the Angel of Patience.

LUST -> CHASTITY - Satan

Now, I know what you’re thinking. Are you saying that Satan isn’t ever lustful? And, no, I’m not. While any headcanons for the brothers’ sexualities are valid, textually I don’t think there’s any evidence to suggest that ANY of the brothers would be especially chaste. So, let’s think about this in a different way. Lust is often thought of as one’s primal urges. But, as the Avatar of Wrath, what are Satan’s primal urges? To be really, really angry, all the time. Thinking about chastity as suppressing one’s innermost urges makes Satan an easy fit for the title. He’s the master of concealing his innate impulses, the king of acting civil in public, the Lord of Masks. Of course, the other thing you may have been thinking up top was that Satan never was an angel, so whatever I assign him doesn’t really matter...

Theoretically, I’d propose that in his place, Lilith could fill this spot. However, considering that her romance with a human is what sparked the Great Celestial War, I think she might not be the best fit...

GLUTTONY -> TEMPERANCE - Belphegor

So in opposition to gluttony, temperance literally means “abstinence from alcoholic drink.” But, that’s kind of boring, and like literal chastity, I don’t think that there’s much evidence to say that any of the brothers would fit this very well. The other definition of temperance is “moderation in action, thought, or feeling,” which I think fits the Avatar of Sloth pretty well. Other than... that one time... Belphie keeps a fairly level head, preferring to nap than to get super worked up about things. His sarcastic, smirking comments also display a temperate emotional distance that only the cool Belphegor could embody. Even in the Celestial Realm, Angel of Temperance Belphie could convince people to take it easy, in a way.

SLOTH -> DILIGENCE - Lucifer

And another obvious one to finish the list. If you don’t think that Lucifer works hard, I’m not sure if you’ve been reading the lessons properly. Go listen to the Save Me, Lucifer audio drama, it’s really funny. Lucifer works hard day and night and day and night again both to fulfill Diavolo’s wishes and to keep the House of Lamentation operational. As the Angel of Diligence, Lucifer could have inspired people to work hard, although hopefully incorporating a little more rest than the eldest brother usually gets.

---

I just like to think about the angelic qualities that the brothers display. They always say stuff like “oh, we’re demons, we’re actually terrible people; we just don’t show that side to you” >:( But... the hospitality that they show to MC isn’t a lie. That’s part of who they really are as well. So this is my appreciation post to them, showing that they still are good people, even as some of the leaders of the Devildom. I hope these 2D, fictional, hot anime demon boys understand that :,)

#obey me #lucifer obey me #mammon obey me #levi obey me #satan obey me #asmo obey me #beel obey me #belphie obey me #is that how you tag the characters???#obey me headcanons #obey me spoilers #you never know what fandom i'm gonna pop up in next #my friend convinced me to start playing this game and i have grown a little bit obsessed #but that's easy to do when the writing was so surprisingly good!#and fit for analysis like this very post!#the way that they characterize the sins is fascinating to me #making the avatar of pride be prideful for someone else? fascinating!#making the avatar of wrath appear super polite on the surface? amazing!#making the avatar of envy a huge nerd? not at all what i expected but incredibly fitting!#i'd love to draw something for this one day #maybe an animatic... but we'll see #i decided to censor this post last minute just in case anybody important ever looks at it #which isn't as funny but what can ya do #just imagine a certain word that's Not Safe For Luke in Satan's section ;)

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wistfulcynic · 4 years

Text

Error 404: “Little” Brother Not Found

SUMMARY: Liam Jones loves his little brother, he truly does. And if that love takes the form of good natured teasing, well, what’s the harm in that? Sure it annoys Killian but that’s kind of the point, and anyway Killian’s still just a lad. Liam’s sure he only just started shaving last year at the earliest. So when he stumbles on Killian mid-dalliance with a certain blonde princess, Liam is forced to reassess a lot of things about his “little” brother, many of which do. not. compute.

a/n: ahahahahaha yeah. So this sprang, as so many mad things do, from a discord discussion about how Liam might react to the discovery that his little brother, the awkward, blushing, nerdy Lieutenant Jones, is in actual fact not so awkward anymore and involved with Princess Emma. Involved, in multiple senses of the word.

I have never been a huge fan of Liam, full disclosure, and I particularly dislike it when their interactions infantilise Killian and take away from his own qualities and accomplishments. So while Liam in this fic does not die or get hurt in any physical way, he does have a few fairly painful revelations. And of course the full DOES NOT COMPUTE meltdown. NOT SORRY.

This is modern Lieutenant Duckling. Imagine Misthaven as a 21st century minor European kingdom.

Rating: hard-ish T/soft-ish M Words: 3.5k Tags: Modern AU, Modern Royalty AU, Lieutenant Duckling, Brothers Jones

On AO3

Liam Jones likes to think of himself as a reasonable man. He’s an honest man, and an honourable one. Those two attributes have never been in question. He’s frequently an impatient man, and sometimes a judgemental one, as his little brother Killian tells him frequently. Killian also calls him a stubborn arse, and Liam has to admit that this might also be valid, but when Killian accuses him of being unreasonable, well, that’s where he draws the line.

He’s perfectly reasonable. Perfectly. What’s unreasonable are Killian’s objections to a) being called ‘little brother’—he is little, after all, by comparison to Liam’s greater height and broader shoulders—and b) his refusal to allow his older and wiser and bigger brother to help him find a girl.

“I do not require your input on that subject, thank you very much,” Killian snarls. “Kindly back the fuck off.”

“But Tink is really nice,” wheedles Liam, as they walk from where his ship is moored in the harbour and into the town to have some lunch. Killian no longer serves on the same ship, having accepted a secondment about a year ago to work on a highly specialised project for the Royal Council. But whenever Liam is in port they make a point of spending as much time as they can together.

“I’m sure she is,” Killian sighs. “Not interested.”

“She’s pretty, too.”

“I don’t doubt it. Still not interested.”

“Look, Killian, I’m only trying to help—”

“No, you’re trying to control me as you always do. I’m twenty-four years old, Liam! I’m an officer in the Royal Navy, same as you, and trust me when I tell you I am more than capable of finding my own women!”

Liam scoffs at this. Killian only just started shaving, he’s sure of it, and the last time he witnessed his little brother trying to interact with a female Killian stumbled over his own feet and spilled his drink down the front of her dress.

He still brings that one up.

The next day he goes to visit Killian at the project’s headquarters in the palace library. On his way there he runs into Princess Emma—almost literally, as she’s not paying any attention to where she’s going, strolling along with a sort of dazed, dreamy look in her eyes, and he does his best to catch her as respectfully as possible by the elbow before she slams into him.

“Begging your pardon, Your Highness,” he says, with a small bow.

“Oh! Captain Jones!” Emma blinks in surprise. “Er—I apologise, my mind was wandering.”

Liam bows again. “No trouble at all, Princess.”

He stands aside so she can pass and watches her go with a smile on his face, wondering if he should tease Killian about it now or wait until later. Liam flatters himself he has a good relationship with Princess Emma; he served as a member of her personal guard for a short time and they have always got on well. Killian on the other hand, always flushes bright pink whenever her name is mentioned and makes stuttering excuses for why he has a pressing need to be anywhere that she is not.

It’s adorable, Liam thinks. Killian has a little crush.

He finds his brother in the palace library, leaning against a bookshelf like he needs it to hold him up. His colour is high and his hair is sticking up at the back.

“Lieutenant Jones!” Liam barks. “You are out of uniform!”

“I—what?” Killian scowls. “What are you on about, Liam, there’s nothing wrong with my uniform.”

Wordlessly, and with crisp, precise movements, Liam withdraws a comb from his uniform coat and hands it to his brother. Killian’s scowl deepens but he takes it and carefully tidies his hair before handing it back.

“What have you been doing in here that got your hair all mussed up?” Liam teases. “Research got you excited?”

“Something like that,” Killian mutters. “I—must’ve tugged on it when I was thinking.”

“Mmmm,” says Liam, and decides the best time to torture little brothers is always. “I ran into the princess on my way here,” he says casually, biting back a grin when Killian’s ears go pink.

“Did you?” He’s clearly trying hard to be casual but his voice comes out as more of a croak.

“Yep. It makes sense, I suppose. Her private apartments aren’t too far from here.”

Killian clears his throat. “I wouldn’t know anything about that.”

“Do you ever see her? Or do you hide in the bushes when she goes by?”

“Liam—” Killian growls warningly.

“I’m surprised you accepted this posting, actually, seeing as it means you’re working so close to where she lives. What are you going to do if she stops by to check on your progress? Stammer like a schoolboy in front of the rest of the project team? Run away?”

Killian’s eyes flash. “I expect I’d manage,” he snarls. “As I keep telling you I’m an adult—”

“—an adult, yes—”

“—and I do actually know how to speak to women!”

Liam smirks. “Somehow I don’t think Ariel would agree.”

“That was eight years ago, Liam! I was sixteen! And you know Ariel and I are friends now. You are literally the only person who ever talks about that anymore.”

“Well—”

“Do you know what your problem is?” Killian interrupts.

“I only have one?”

“The biggest of your many, many bloody irritating problems is that you refuse to see me as anything but a child. Not that you can’t you just won’t.” He sighs and runs a hand over his face. “I wish I knew how to make you.”

Liam feels a pang of guilt. He does rag on Killian quite a lot, it’s true, but it comes from a place of love. He’d been solely responsible for raising his brother from a time when he was barely more than a boy himself, and he loves Killian fiercely. He just doesn’t quite know how to express it.

“Hey,” he says, hooking his arm around Killian’s neck and ruffling his hair again. “Don’t be like that, little brother. I’m sorry.”

Killian pulls out of Liam’s grip and makes an ostentatious show of smoothing down his hair. “Sure,” he says.

Liam feels bad, and he doesn’t like it. “So, um, why don’t you show me what you’ve been working on?” he says, hoping this will distract Killian from the previous teasing.

It does. Killian brightens instantly. “Really?” he says. “You actually want to see it?”

“Of course I do.”

Liam doesn’t quite understand Killian’s project; it involves lots of complex equations and research into things that he never had the chance to study, but he’s immensely proud of his brother for being chosen to work on it. Killian is the youngest member of the team by a good ten years and his selection was a tremendous honour. Liam nearly burst with pride when he heard of it.

Not that he would ever tell Killian that.

Killian’s face is eager as he shows Liam the research he’s been doing and the presentation he’s preparing for the King and the Royal Council. Liam smiles and nods and lets him talk, his mind wandering.

Two days later Liam is back at the palace on business and he decides to see if Killian is free for dinner. He knocks on the door of the quarters his brother shares with the other members of the research team, who inform him that Killian isn’t there.

“He’s not around here much,” one of them says, with a knowing smirk. “I mean, I wouldn’t be either, in his shoes. Lucky git.”

“Can’t remember the last time he actually slept here,” adds another. “He ‘works late’ a lot.” The man makes quotation marks in the air with his fingers. “I’m guessing right now he’s busy ‘working’ real hard, you know?”

Liam does not, in fact, know. He has no idea what they could be talking about but it’s clear they think he does and so he plays along.

“Right. Well, er, better luck next time, I guess.”

He walks back to his ship, wondering what on earth Killian could be doing with his evenings if he’s not spending them in his quarters. Surely he’s not actually still at the library?

That lad needs to get himself a girl, Liam thinks. If only he would agree to a date with Tink.

The following Thursday is the day of Killian’s big presentation to the Royal Council. Liam arrives a few minutes early, thinking he might have to help calm his brother’s nerves. He takes a seat in the council chambers and looks around for Killian but he is nowhere to be seen.

Then the door opens and Killian arrives, quite at his ease as he greets the council members and bows to the king. Liam frowns. He expected his brother to be cripplingly nervous, flushing and stammering through his presentation, but the reality could hardly be more different. Killian stands confidently at the lectern, looking older than his years—when did his facial hair get so thick, Liam wonders—and when he begins to speak his voice is deep and calm, with a note of authority Liam has never heard in it before.

The crowd is riveted, hanging on his every word. The other members of the project team, the Royal Council, none can take their eyes off him. The king is actually taking notes, nodding to himself as Killian speaks.

Liam catches a glimpse of Princess Emma sitting near the back of the chamber. She’s not officially on the Council though of course she is heir to the throne and so he’s not surprised by her presence at an important event. He is a little bit thrown by the look on her face, though. It’s soft and a bit awed, with shining eyes and flushed cheeks and a sweet smile on her lips. He’s never seen her look like that before.

Killian concludes his presentation and opens the floor to questions from the audience. There are many, more than Liam anticipated, but Killian handles them all with aplomb, giving knowledgeable, definitive answers and not flinching even when the king himself challenges some of his conclusions. Killian stands straight with his shoulders square as they debate, and Liam gets the strangest feeling that both he and the king are enjoying themselves.

Liam is proud. He’s always been proud of his little brother, of course he has. Of course he knows that Killian is smart and tough and hard-working, but this—this is a new kind of proud. Like he’s seeing his brother as a peer, for the first time.

When the presentation is officially over Killian mingles a bit in the crowd and Liam debates going to speak with him. He wants to tell his brother about this new pride he’s feeling, but he’s not sure if he can find the words or if this is really the time or place. But then he sees Killian heading off through one of the council chamber’s side exits and thinks he might take the opportunity to catch Killian and have a few words in private, and so he goes to follow his brother out the door.

So does Princess Emma. Liam bites his lip to stop his smile when he sees her heading for the same exit through which Killian just disappeared. Because yes, he did just realise that he might need to start treating Killian as more of an equal but that doesn’t change the fact that he’ll always be a big brother and he can’t help wanting to witness Killian stammer and blush when he runs into the princess.

He slips through the door and follows Emma until she turns a corner, then hurries his pace a bit so as not to lose her.

“Well,” he hears her say as he approaches the corner. “Fancy meeting you here, Lieutenant.”

Liam halts just before the turn, waiting for Killian’s stammering reply. Instead he hears something that has his jaw dropping in astonishment. Killian’s voice, pitched lower than usual and with a flirtatious note in it that Liam has never, not even in his wildest dreams, imagined he might hear from his own little brother.

“What a remarkable coincidence,” Killian replies.

“Isn’t it just.”

“Whatever shall I do with you, princess, now I’ve discovered you here in this very dark corridor?” Killian growls.

“I’m sure you’ve got a few ideas.” Emma’s voice is breathless. “Brilliant man like you.”

“Oh I do love, I absolutely do. Though I confess they all require you to be wearing rather fewer clothes.”

“Those are my favourite ones,” Emma gasps, then Liam hears the unmistakable sound of kissing.

They’re kissing. His brother and the princess. They’re just around the damned corner bloody well making out and flirting and talking about sex.

Sex.

His brother.

And the princess.

The princess.

The king’s daughter.

Is talking about sex.

With his brother.

What

Whaaatttt

Liam’s jaw lolls and his throat works, his Adam’s apple bobbing furiously, but no sound comes out. He doesn’t know what noise he’d even make if he could, he certainly isn’t capable of forming any words. He sidles up to the edge of the wall and pokes his head around the corner, just far enough to get visual confirmation of what he still can’t believe he heard. And there it is. There they are, wrapped up in each other with her back pressed against the wall and their mouths fused together.

Liam was almost hoping that it had all been some insane mistake, that maybe there was another lieutenant waiting in the corridor for the princess and speaking with his brother’s voice. But no. That’s Killian, unmistakably him. It looks like him and sounds like him, everything is him except that this man—yes, man—is kissing and flirting and making some pretty damned blatant allusions to sex. With the princess. Sex that he—that they—ack

Argh

Ermmmbbgggggghhhhhh

Liam’s brain makes a noise like an old dial-up modem as he watches Killian’s mouth leave Emma’s to trail sucking kisses down the neck she arches back for him, watches as his brother’s hand slides up the bloody royal thigh and under the hem of her dress and between—no. No, he can’t. He can’t see that. He can’t think it. He. Just. Can’t.

“Fuck.” Emma gasps, rolling her hips against Killian’s hand. “Fuck, Killian.”

“That is definitely the aim here, love.”

“Oh, God,” Emma moans. “We can’t do this here.”

“Can’t we?”

“No, we can’t.”

No you bloody well can’t, Liam’s brain screams. Please, please, please stop doing this here!

Emma pushes Killian away and he takes a step back, giving her a smirk that is positively lewd as he slowly licks his fingers. She smirks back, completely unfazed, and saunters towards him with a swing in her hips, hooking her own fingers under the waistband of Killian’s uniform trousers. Trousers that Liam absolutely, positively refuses to notice are tented. Impressively tented. Like perhaps Killian is right to object to being called little brother.

WHYYYYYYYYY wails his brain.

“Why don’t you come back to my place, sailor, and ravish me properly,” she purrs, and Killian puts his hand on her arse—her arse—his brother’s hand is on the princess of their bloody realm’s arse—(it was someplace far worse a minute ago, but his brain shrivels a bit and warning klaxons begin to shrill in his head before he can think too much about that)—and Killian’s fingers are tracing the curve of the arse in question and curling around the princess’s hip as they head off towards her apartments, bodies moving together in the kind of perfect harmony that suggests that when they fuck it’s hawt.

Nonononononononononononononooooooooooooooo Liam’s brain is in full meltdown mode now, alarms shrilling and screens flashing error messages and he just. Cannot. Compute.

He was prepared, almost very nearly prepared, to acknowledge that Killian is a grown man now, one well on his way to an impressive career and who has earned the respect of his colleagues and his king. But this—when—how did his shy and nerdy little brother become smooth enough with women to pull a bloody princess?

Where is the blushing? The stammering? The tripping over his own feet?

Where???

The next day Liam visits Killian in the library again, finding him sitting quietly at a desk with his brow furrowed as he reads from a large, leather-bound book. His uniform is pristine and his hair tidy, and his reading glasses are slipping down his nose. Liam clears his throat and Killian looks up, his face creasing with a grin.

“Liam! I was hoping you’d drop by. I didn’t get a chance to talk to you after the presentation yesterday.”

“No. I, er. Um. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right.” Killian waves his apology away. “I left a bit earlier than I was anticipating, actually. Something came up.”

Liam looks at him carefully to see if this is meant to be a joke, bitterly recalling how twenty-four hours ago it would have never even occurred to him to wonder whether Killian might be making a crude innuendo about his penis. Such a thing would have been as inconceivable as the idea of his brother even carrying on a conversation with Princess Emma, much less—

Killian’s smile begins to fade and Liam pulls himself together, claps his brother on the shoulder. “You did well yesterday,” he said. “I was proud of you.”

Killian flushes with pleasure. “Thank you, brother,” he says. “It means a lot to hear that from you.”

That blush is what does it. It’s so familiar, too familiar, and with everything Liam now knows about Killian he simply cannot reconcile these two versions of him, his easy-blushing brother and Princess Emma’s lover and—

“You’re sleeping with her.”

“I—what?”

“The princess. You. I saw—and her. Kissing, and—and—how long has this been bloody going on?”

“Ah.” Killian removes his glasses, folds them up, and places them in their case. He sets the case on the desk and stands, giving Liam a cool look that the elder Jones absolutely cannot meet. “I think perhaps we’d best discuss this someplace more private,” he says.

He does not blush.

Killian leads Liam out of the library and across the small, grassy quad that separates it from the royal living quarters. He nods to the guard at the entrance as they go inside and strides confidently through the maze of corridors to a door which he opens with a key that he selects from his own keychain.

“Emma’s visiting hospitals today,” he says. “She won’t be back until late. We can talk here.”

“This is—” Liam gulps. “This is the princess’s private apartments.”

“Yes.”

“To which you have a key.”

“I live here. Not officially, of course, for the sake of the optics, but for all intents and purposes they are my apartments too.”

“So then it’s not—not just—”

“Not just sex?” Killian smirks. “No. We’ve been together about three years and it’s serious. I plan to marry her.”

“But—you can’t marry a princess! You’re a—”

“A lowly lieutenant in her father’s navy? Aye. And I certainly couldn’t marry her in that capacity. But as a valued and trusted adviser on the Royal Council? That would be rather a different story.”

Liam feels comprehension begin to dawn. “That’s why you wanted to work on this project,” he says.

“That’s why I wanted to work on this project,” Killian confirms. “And of course, it gives us a chance to live together normally, without attracting attention. Just to be absolutely certain this is what we want.”

Liam collapses onto a sofa, utterly gobsmacked. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?” he whispers.

“Would you have listened?” Killian sits down next to him. “Would you have believed it? All you ever do is tease me and treat me like I’m still sixteen. How would you have reacted to the news that I was dating Emma if you hadn’t seen us together with your own eyes?”

Liam is silent. He’s ashamed of himself and for once he allows himself to fully feel that shame. Killian is right. He has treated his brother as a child, even though he clearly isn’t one anymore. Not just because of his relationship with the princess but because of his accomplishments in his career and the impressive future he has ahead of him, as a Royal Councillor and someday the Prince Consort.

Liam could not be prouder.

“You’re right,” he says after a long silence. “I wouldn’t have listened, and I wouldn’t have believed it. But I will now, both those things. Will you tell me the story? How you met Emma and how you fell in love? And—when you have time I’d love to see more about your project.” He clears his throat. “Actually see it, I mean, and do my best to understand.”

Killian smiles, wide and delighted. It’s the smile of the boy Liam solemnly promised to take care of all those years ago, and it’s the smile of the man that boy has become.

“I’d love to, brother,” he says.

@thisonesatellite @ohmightydevviepuu @stahlop @mariakov81 @katie-dub @kmomof4 @teamhook @donteattheappleshook @darkcolinodonorgasm @xhookswenchx @snidgetsafan

#cs fic #cs ff #cs ff au #modern au #royalty au #modern royalty #captain swan #lieutenant duckling #brothers jones #error: 404 #profdanglaisstuff

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stoplookingupforheaven · 4 years

Text

one day i went “hey, i see a parallel in one line of Four Walls and one line of Skulls, let’s write a one-shot!”

here it is.

warnings: this piece does center around the theme of murder (but never goes into detail) and contains a few passing mentions of small, dark spaces.

Murder, n. The crime

Is it really always a crime?

They say the traffic was murder, yesterday at rush hour - does that make it a crime? Because something is difficult, does that set it irrevocably against the law? There must be a qualifier. Where do the deeds I have done fall?

---

Part I: I’ll Be Buried Here With You / There’s No View From Here

I have never been afraid of the dark, or small spaces. Spending eternity under the ground is not such a bad way to go.

Now, there is only a tiny patch of sky. I mark the passing of time by its color, and the slow march of clouds as they drift by.

I am like these clouds; weightless, helpless, pulled by the winds of fate to nowhere. My four walls are gray. The sky is cerulean, sometimes. Others, navy. Still others, it is indistinguishable from the gray of the walls. Cold colors for a cold world.

By comparison, the ground sounds welcoming. Rich earth, warmed by the sun, to rest over my body. Dandelions taking hold over my bones. Life feeding death feeding life.

Will the ground I am destined to sleep beneath be warm? Will I sink into its embrace as I did when I was a child, digging my hands into the garden beds and letting the earth spill over my arms and legs? I used to come home with dirt in my hair and on my skin, and it was warmed by me, by the life that I gave off, in blood or sweat or sunburn. Is this what death is like?

Or does the earth only warm those who sleep with no guilt?

---

Murder, n. The crime of unlawfully

Now, that’s just silly. Whoever heard of a lawful crime? It’s an oxymoron, a contradiction of terms.

Perhaps Robin Hood committed so-called “lawful crimes”. Stealing from the rich and giving to the poor. He followed his own code, even if it wasn’t the one accepted by society. Morally right, legally wrong. I suppose it depends on one’s definition of “lawful,” which is absolutely a more confusing thing to define than murder.

---

Part II: In These Four Walls My Thoughts Seem To Wander / These Four Walls To Keep You

At night, I have visitors.

They come to me in dreams, by turns scolding or sympathetic. Some promise vengeance on my behalf. Others scream at me, cursing me and my family and everyone I’ve ever loved. Those ones are usually dead.

Some just want to know why.

Sometimes, I want to know why too.

Why does anyone kill? What moves a person to take the life of someone else? I have a feeling that if I knew, I’d have a much better defense, but I don’t know any more than anyone else. I am not a psychologist. I do not pretend to know how the human mind works, not even my own.

The detectives go on about “motive” and “means” as if such things are substitutes for the synapses in the brain that determine the actions of the body, as if by piecing together their clues and logic puzzles they could understand why anyone does anything. What they fail to understand - and what I do - is that why is so much more than methodology. The mind is more than the pieces of the brain added up, more than the chemical equations that allow us the ability to speak and breathe and point a gun and pull the trigger. We are more than the sum of our actions.

I wish I could speak to the ones who ask why. I want to know why, too.

---

Murder, n. The crime of unlawfully killing

Behold, a verb.

Specifically, one meaning to take life, although not every life we end is considered murder, clearly. The child who severs a flower from its stem is not considered a murderer.

There are things, too, that may give us life without giving up their own. We pick the apple, but the tree does not die.

---

Part III: Now It’s All Before You / Now You Carry It With You

Do feelings stay with us into death?

Will I carry with me the legacy of my actions, cradling the weight in my hands, cursed to bear the chains that I have forged forever? Will I wear them through some Jacob Marley-esque, ghostlike existence? Or does the loss of earthly consciousness mean losing consciousness of those chains, too?

I have grown used to the burden. The remains, the leftovers of the crime I committed, are always with me, a weight that both punishes and comforts me. I do not wish to carry it at all, but I want even less to feel no guilt. The guilt reminds me that I am real, autonomous, and not simply the product of someone else’s nightmare.

I would fear God only if I believed in one to fear. As it is, I have never found any comfort in placing my hopes in the hands of the divine. They say that others have repented when they were on death’s door, that their last act was to plead for forgiveness before they met their Maker.

I will choose instead to take my chances only if and when I find a God in death. I did not act in this life with the intent of pleasing a deity; I see no reason to change this in the life after.

Perhaps, if there truly is an always-forgiving God, it will not matter. Perhaps I will not carry my chains through death.

---

Murder, n. The crime of unlawfully killing a person

Oh, murder applies specifically to people? Now we’re beginning to go somewhere.

Human beings killing other human beings. We’ve been doing that for thousands of years. Is every soldier’s death on the battlefield murder? Some would say so. The accidents we cause, that lead to the deaths of loved ones - are those murder? Perhaps.

---

Part IV: I’ll Hold In These Hands All That Remains / Until You Face The Rope

The end is an interesting place to be. It’s empty, but not how you might think.

It isn’t empty like a pristine living room waiting to be filled with furniture. It’s empty like a kitchen after all the guests have left. There’s a few stray napkins, a wrapper on the counter, crumbs on the tablecloth. The remains of something that was once full.

Here is what remains at my end: four walls, one floor, a tiny piece of sky, the weight of the wrong I have done, and me.

I am not dead. That is still to come. But I have reached the end of my life. I exist in some in-between state, waiting for the inevitable, patiently, restlessly, quietly.

All that is left are skeletons; this skeleton room, my skeleton thoughts. Soon, I will join them, and my bones will be all that remains of a life that was lived, if not fully or well.

I believe I have made my peace with it.

---

Murder, n. The crime of unlawfully killing a person, especially with malice aforethought.

The death of one, at the hand of another. The hand of one who envisioned it. One who has lain awake at night pondering it. One who set out on the journey with a clear end in mind, an end that had room for one less person, one more corpse.

Does what I have done fit this definition?

A jury of twelve said so. The truth does not matter now.

#rain writes #bastille writing #skulls #four walls #four walls (the ballad of perry smith)#bastille

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dontshootmespence · 5 years

Text

Satisfaction Comes From Sharing With Others

Summary: One is your boss, the other your everything. Sam’s discussed sharing you with another man before - something that makes you tremble more than you want to admit - but what will he think of your suggestion of bringing your boss into the equation?

Pairing: Sam Wesson x Reader x Dean Smith

Word Count: 3,366

Warnings: D/s dynamics, dd/lg dynamics, daddy kink, come play, spit-roast, threesome, face-fucking.

A/N: For those of you 18 and over! This fulfills my “come play” square for @spnkinkbingo. This isn’t focused on the come play, it’s the byproduct of ALL the other shit. Also for the purposes of this story, you and Sam are around the same age at 24 and Dean is over 30 because I’m a slut for an age gap.

---

He’s your boss. You call him Sir by default. The way he looked at you whenever you deferred to him was heady. In the richness of his eyes, you saw every dirty and depraved thing he wanted to do to you. But you loved another - Sam. Your Daddy. The man you loved and craved more than anyone or anything in the world.

What hadn’t the two of you tried together?

Very little.

With the exception of a hard limit here or there, you and Sam had tried everything under the sun. You’d been tied up and spanked and fucked senseless in a room all alone and in a room full of strangers, but you’d never been shared with someone else before even though Sam had mentioned it being a possibility one day as long as you were up for it.

Sam was all you needed, and he was all you wanted...until now.

What would he think if you asked the unexpected?

“Daddy?” You asked in the most disgustingly cute way possible.

A flick of desire crossed his eyes as he responded. “Yes, little girl?”

“You know how you wanted to share me with someone else?” The way his pupils blew out and his chest rose the slightest bit told you everything you needed to know. He hadn’t stopped thinking about the possibility.

“Of course, I do.” When you hesitated, he prodded, eliciting the same response it always did - complete and utter, what you called “jelly-leg syndrome.” When that slightly scolding, strong, thick voice washed over you, you were done for. “What is it, little girl?”

Biting your lip, you walked into his arms and looked straight into his eyes. “I was wondering if you would share me with Mr. Smith?”

“Our manager?” Sam was levels beneath him but you were his assistant and they’d played poker together a few times. “Does that idea make you wet?” “Yes, Daddy.”

“Why is that?”

“Because he’s older...I already call him Sir for work purposes and I can tell he wants me.”

“Mr. Smith and I have a lot more in common than you’d think. He’s commented more than once about what a wonderful assistant you are...how well you take orders.”

Your pussy was throbbing. “Really?”

“Absolutely. I’ll bring it up tomorrow.”

---

When the sun rose the following morning, you woke up needy and ready to go. Sam picked out your outfit, as he always did. Today was a matching red lace bra and panties underneath, with a navy blue power suit and white blouse over it. He pulled out two pairs of your shoes - one black velvet strappy pair with nearly 4 inch heels and the other red patent leather pumps with 4.5 inch heels. “Which one, little girl? You choose.”

“Red ones, Daddy.”

“Good girl.” You always tried to pick the ones he wanted. It just so happened that you wanted them too.

You and Sam had different lunch hours, so you’d be at lunch when Sam talked to Dean. If everything went according to plan, then you’d both leave with Mr. Smith that night. Until lunch though, you wanted to make your boss squirm. Patent leather pumps always did the trick. Plus they made your ass look amazing and matching the shoes with the panties? If it went that far, he’d lose his mind just as Daddy always did.

Submissive you might be, but having two men under your spell? The pull was undeniable.

An hour later, as you walked into the office, you could’ve sworn that there was a sexual tension in the air...but it was probably just you imagining being double stuffed and completely at the whim of two of the sexiest men you’d ever seen. After you kissed Sam goodbye, he texted you to remind you that you were to act as normal. You stood up straight and knocked on the door. “Good morning, Y/N.”

He knew it was you. Maybe by the way you knocked. Something about that made you feel special. His eyes left the paperwork that never seemed to end to glance up and say hello, doing a double take before he said something he’d never allowed himself to say before. “You look amazing this morning.”

“I don’t always look amazing?” You teased.

For the first time since you started working as his assistant two years ago at the age of 21, Mr. Smith stumbled over his words. “Oh, oh, no of course, you always look wonderful,” he said, trying to put on a professional smile, “But something about the outfit is especially pulled together this morning.”

“Well, thank you, Sir.”

The entire morning was torture for you. It would’ve been awful except for the fact that you knew it was torture for him too. He asked you more questions about work than usual - probably because you always ended your sentences with Sir and he loved hearing it. More than once you turned around to see him eyeing you up and down, his gaze lingering just slightly longer than it probably should have.

“I’m going to go on my lunch break as long as that’s okay. Do you need anything else before I leave, Sir?”

“No, no. Enjoy your lunch,” he said quickly, the words falling out of his mouth in an attempt to get you to vacate the room before he fucked you senseless right there in the office.

On your way to grab lunch, you passed Sam’s desk and told him that Mr. Smith was almost definitely going to say yes to his proposition. “How do you feel about that, little girl?” He asked, taking measures to keep his voice low so as to not draw any attention to yourselves.

“I’m very, very wet, Daddy,” you whispered.

“Let me see.”

“What...what do you mean?”

“Did I stutter?”

Everyone in Sam’s department was blocked in by cubicles so there weren’t any immediate eyes on you. With a quick glance around the room you dipped your hand into your panties and swiped at the arousal gathering above the lace.

Sam glanced down and smiled before pulling your two fingers into his mouth and licking them clean. “Good girl. Now go get lunch and I’m going to go have a discussion with Mr. Smith.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

---

After lunch, you made your way back up to Mr. Smith’s office, every step one step closer to the two of them. The clicks and clacks of your shoes on the floors seemed louder and so did your heartbeat as it thrummed in your ears, yet the rest of the world’s sounds faded into nothing.

When you passed Sam’s desk he wasn’t there. Of course, your mind immediately went to the thought that Sam’s proposal might not have been met with as much enthusiasm as previously thought. Maybe he was being walked out of the office and you would be too in a matter of moments.

However, the moment he answered your knock at the door, you knew differently. “Come in Y/N.”

Normally it was “How was lunch?” But not today.

When you stepped inside, Mr. Smith was sitting at his desk, hands clasped together lying heavily on the mahogany desk. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Sam. He was smiling. They both were.

“Mr. Wesson had a proposal for me while you were at lunch. Were you aware?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“What was that proposal?”

Whether he knew it by instinct and Sam had let him know, he insisted you spell it out. It always made you deliciously embarrassed to have to say what you wanted out loud. “Well, Sam-”

“He knows what you call me,” he said, his voice so soft yet so commanding.

“Daddy always wanted to share me with someone else. But I’d never had any interest in anyone but him...until you.”

“Is that so?” You couldn't see beyond the desk, but you’d bet your life savings he was hard as a rock right now. “I happen to be very interested in this proposal, but I had one condition to which your Daddy agreed.”

“What was it?”

“I need to inspect you first. My mama always warned me not to make a deal without knowing what I was getting into.”

Was your entire body on fire? It felt like it. When Daddy warranted inspections, you knew what to do, but here in the office, where cameras were present, you weren’t quite sure. “Is there a place in this room I can stand without the camera seeing me? I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble with the owners of the building, Sir.”

“Beautiful, hardworking, conscientious, considerate...You really have the whole package here, don’t you Sam?”

“I do,” he replied proudly. God, you wanted to get fucked right here, right now on the floor.

“Stand in the opposite corner,” your boss commanded, pointing to the corner by the door. “You stand there and no one will see you. As you Daddy and I have discussed, I want to see everything. Clothes off.”

“Yes, Sir.”

You legs were shaky as you peeled your blazer off and laid it over the back of a nearby chair. Daddy looked on proudly as you did as you were told, unbuttoning your blouse and throwing it near the shirt. If it hadn’t been obvious before, both men knew now how aroused you were. Your nipples were clearly visible through the lace.

As your hands steadied, you removed you pants and folded them neatly before meeting Mr. Smith’s gaze and reaching behind your back to unhook your bra to let it fall to the floor. You could feel Sam’s eyes on you, but you knew he wanted you to keep your eyes glued to him, so you did, hooking your fingers into your panties and peeling them down your legs. “Shoes too, Sir?”

“No,” he said with a smile. “I like the shoes.” For a moment, he glanced up and down your body, saying nothing. “Are you wet?”

“Yes, Sir.”

When he stood up, he was visibly hard, but he walked over without a word and slipped his fingers between your folds. “Why are you so wet?”

“Because I’m horny.”

“This gets you off?”

You blushed and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Lifting his hand to his lips, he tasted your arousal and closed his eyes, lost in the headiness of it all. “And why is that?”

“Because I’m a little slut, Sir.”

“It seems you are. How would you and your Daddy like to join me at my penthouse tonight?”

Finally, you turned to Sam. “As long as Daddy approves, I do too.”

The two exchanged a glance before Mr. Smith turned back to you. “Then put your clothes back on and get back to work, because I need the rest of this day to melt away like an ice cube on a hot sunny day.”

---

Five o’clock had seemed an eternity away, but it finally came. The ride in Mr. Smith’s car held nothing but silence, which drove the anticipation even higher. It was less than 15 minutes to get to his penthouse, which was even grander than you or Sam had imagined. “Welcome to my home,” he said, more relaxed than you’d ever seen him. You were ready to go, but giggled when he addressed Sam. “You can unclench, Sam. We’re off duty.”

In the vastness of his home you felt small, but you felt your safest when you were small. “What would you like me to do, Sir? Daddy?”

Sam deferred to Dean considering he was the ‘new man in town.’ “Well, I was thinking that since your about to get fucked into a quaking, trembling, sweating, come-covered mess that you should choose how. Where would you like us? And why? You know how detail-oriented I am.”

He was giving you the choice. Oh god, everything you’d imagined was going to come true right now. “Well, I’d like for both of you to have me at the same time and I’d like for Daddy to fuck my throat. He has a very big cock and I’d like to show you how good I am at taking it,” you whispered.

“And where should I be? Speak up, baby.”

“I’d like you in my pussy, Sir.”

“Follow me then.”

All three of you walked toward a room that turned out to be the biggest bedroom you’d ever seen with what had to be a California king bed. Behind you, Daddy clasped your shoulders and whispered into your ear how happy this made him. “It makes me happy too, Daddy. It makes me happy to make you happy.”

“Make me proud, little girl.”

“Of course, Daddy.”

As you approached the bed, you felt arms wrap around your waist. “You will address me as Mr. Smith or Sir while in here. Are we clear?”

“Yes, Mr. Smith.”

His cock was hard against your ass and he turned you to face Daddy. “She’s so wet. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve imagined having this sweet little pussy, Sam. She’s divine.”

“Well, I’m all about sharing.”

Together, they undressed you quickly, tossing your clothes without any care for where they might land. In an instant, Sir pushed you down onto the bed, dipping between your legs to swipe quickly at your pussy. “She tastes divine too. Hey, Sam, how about we keep some clothes on? Have her completely naked and vulnerable?”

“She loves that,” he replied.

Both of them untucked their shirts threw their belts aside. “Okay, baby,” Sir said, “Turn around so your head hangs off the bed.”

Your head fell limp and you felt a dip in the mattress. Mr. Smith was crawling toward you, ready to use your pussy while Daddy massaged your throat with his cock and you were almost positive you’d come in an instant. “One more question, Sir and Daddy. Do I have to ask permission to come today? I don’t know if I’ll be able to form the words.”

Mr. Smith didn’t care, so Daddy gave you mercy for the night. “For tonight, you can come however many times you want. But remember what I say when I fuck your throat?”

“Don’t waste a drop. Of course, Daddy.”

Opening your mouth, you licked at the pre-cum leaking from his tip and reveled in the familiar tang of it. As Daddy played with your throat, teasing the tip against your tongue until you were whining for more, Mr. Smith grasped your hips with his hands and lifted you up to line himself against your entrance. When he slid in, you groaned louder than you intended, stifling the one that followed. “Oh no, baby,” he said. “You get as loud as you want. I don’t care if the neighbors hear.”

“Okay, Sir.” He pulled out and thrusted back in, harder than before. Instead of toying with your mouth the way Daddy had promised, he crouched down to meet your gaze. He wanted to watch as your eyes glazed over with lust and you lost all sense of time and space. “Daddy, I need you both. I need to be filled.”

Mr. Smith kept thrusting, each movement calculated yet completely unplanned. He was still playing around with you - like he was afraid to break you. You tried forming the words, but you couldn’t and as always, Daddy knew what you needed. “You won’t break her, Dean. Remember what I said about her safe word?”

“Yea, but if you’re gonna be balls deep in her mouth she won’t be able to speak.”

“If that happens she taps on her stomach twice with her left hand and if she drops into subspace I’ll know and we’ll stop.”

With free reign, Dean reeled back and thrusted forward so hard you heard the smack of his skin against yours. “Fuck, Sir!” Your legs started to shake and the orgasm took over as Daddy looked on in pride.

“Now, I can fuck that tight little throat.”

The shockwaves began to subside as Sir tongued your pussy, tasting your combined mixture while Daddy slid his cock into your mouth. “Watch, Dean. She is a championship cocksucker.”

Stilling his movements, his eyes locked onto your throat as Daddy slid farther and father down. When it felt like he couldn’t go any farther, he coached you like he always did. “Breath in through your nose and swallow on the count of three.”

That always did the trick. You licked around his shaft as best you could and reached up to cup his balls.

“My god, Sam. How long did it take you to coach her?”

Sam flicked at the bump in your throat, his cock tight underneath. “We trained for about five months before she was able to take all of me.”

No more words were spoken. At one end your mouth was full, at the other your pussy clamped tightly around Sir’s cock with every stroke. You lost track of their movements, too overwhelmed at a fullness you’d never experienced to say or do anything. Your limbs went limp, your legs splayed open to give Sir the access he deserved.

As arousal leaked from you pussy, Daddy fucked your mouth, giving you a break and pulling out every third or fourth thrust. He gave you just enough time to breathe but not enough that the high of the moment wore off in any way.

“Fuck, little girl,” Daddy grunted, his hand resting gently around your throat. “I can feel my cock inside. Daddy’s gonna come.”

Mr. Smith wasn’t far behind. He pounded into you more and more frantically. “Fucking hell, baby!”

At his exclamation, Daddy came, thick spurts of his seed coating the insides of your throat. You eagerly swallowed it all until he pulled out and bent down to kiss you. “Such a good girl for Daddy.”

“Thank you, Daddy. Sir, is gonna make me come, Daddy. I can’t stop it.”

“Don’t try to, baby,” he replied.

Grunting as he came, Sir pushed flush against you, his seed spilling into you before he collapsed, his head against your chest. “You are amazing, baby. So tight.”

He continued telling Daddy how amazing you were as your legs continued to quiver with the aftershocks. You felt his fingers slip inside you and gather some of his come. “Sit up, baby. Clean Sir’s fingers.”

A tear rolled down your cheek as you pulled his fingers into your mouth. When he dipped his fingers in a second time, you instinctively reached to taste them again, but instead he painted your nipples with the creamy white substance. You could feel more of it dripping out. “Watch as it seeps out.” Daddy walked around the other side of the bed to take in the view as it slid onto the sheets below. “But now my sheets are all messy,” Mr. Smith said cheekily.

Daddy got a devious look on his face. “Well how about she licks it up? The stain will still be there, but definitely less messy.”

“I think I love that idea.”

Mr. Smith turned his attention toward you again. “Kneel on the floor and clean it. Little girls don’t leave messes, do they?”

“No, Sir. I’ll clean it, Sir.”

Every muscle in your body was shaking as you moved around and slid onto the floor. You had to stretch your neck a bit to reach it while remaining kneeling as you’d been told. But you wanted to make Daddy proud and really impress Sir, so you made it work. You’d tasted you and Daddy before, but the new mixture was something altogether different in the best way. “That’s better,” Daddy said, patting your head.

“Did I make you proud, Daddy?”

“Yes, little girl.”

As they both caught their breath, Daddy got redressed while Sir got ready for a relaxing night at home.

Daddy got you into your pants and blouse, throwing your blazer and bra over his shoulder before reaching for your panties, but Mr. Smith got to them first. “I think I’ll keep these,” he said, grasping your chin between his thumb and forefinger. You were so numbed out, you just looked up at him sleepily. “You can have them back next time.”

#spnkinkbingo #spnkinkbingo2019 #dean winchester #dean smith #sam winchester #sam wesson #dean smith x reader #sam wesson x reader #dean smith x you #sam wesson x you #dean smith x y/n #sam wesson x y/n #dean winchester smut #dean smith smut #sam winchester smut #sam wesson smut #dontshootmespence #satisfaction comes from sharing with others

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ick25 · 5 years

Text

Rockman.EXE Final Episode Review!

I ain’t afraid of no Gostler.

Finally, the last episode of the first season of the Rockman.EXE anime, the last episode before Axess changes almost everything!

You might not know this, but I am NOT a huge fan of Axess, it nearly destroys everything I’m used to and love from the first season, but I’ll talk about that some other time. Lets dive into this final adventure!

Who you’re gonna call?

The episode begins at night where Netto’s dad is carrying out an experiment. He created something called the “Dimensional core” that projects a grassy field in a parking lot, however, this is not a hologram since Dr. Hikari is able to touch a tree, claiming the experiment was a success.

He is basically God now.

The next morning we are at Netto’s house where his useless mom is humming Aki’s cheesy song while Netto is working on some kind of device he invented. The device happens to be a wireless plug that allows him to connect Rockman into a far away computer.

I’m not completely sure how this is suppose to work. I initially thought it was a way for Netto to plug-in to any computer withing range, but I think it just allows him to reconnect with Rockman if he is stranded in a computer, since it has been showed in the anime that he can’t send chips if he is not directly connected to the computer or server.

Netto gets a phone call from Commander Beef who gives him some worrying news about his father before the title card appears.

We then see Netto and his friends, along with Higure, Masa and Mariko-sensei for some reason, in a commercial plane, I guess Yaito decided to get cheap on us today.

Netto tells everyone that Commander Beef just told him that his dad had suddenly gone missing in Jawaii. He is obviously worried by this and the grown-ups try to cheer him up, with Higure saying that Commander Beef was probably lying, which angers Masa for some “unknown” reason.

Netto suddenly receives a call from Enzan who gives him more information about Dr. Hikari’s location and what he was working on.

I find it interesting that this last line was skipped and given to Rockman later on in the american version.

What is Enzan’s reason to help Netto all of a sudden?

Speaking of the dub, the line they gave to Yaito here was very awkward, by revealing that she likes Chaud/Enzan which is completely out of character.

We don’t go to commercials just yet, but we get the first screen saver we haven’t seen since the first part of the season.

Gotta love the sub’s sense of humor.

The next scene takes us to the shopping mall that has been taken over by some big roots, with a giant tree suddenly appearing on the roof. Netto and company are now on a helicopter where they are amazed at the sight of the tree. Rockman tells them that the tree is made out of cyber matter but functions just like a real tree.

While giving us the code for shrinking the Shield program. I used to think that was a chemical equation or something. XD

So after Mariko-sensei makes a bad joke, Yaito orders the pilot... Oh no! Why is SHE the pilot?!

Did we really need that gag to return?

Meanwhile, on another part of Jawaii, we see the Ex-WWW who have opened a second restaurant called Maha Niban and it seems there is an air of contentment around them because they all look happy and fulfilled.

Oh boy, I can tell something bad is gonna happen to them soon and I just can’t wait!

Back to our heroes, the inside of the mall looks like that planet from the Degoba system where Yoda lived, except the camera rotates around some of the plants that look three-dimensional but they’re actually bi-dimensional.

Which raises a question. How come these plants are bi-dimensional but Dr. Hikari was able to touch a solid tree at the start of this episode?

The group suddenly hear a familiar voice, it turns out to be Aki-chan who calls for Netto from a projection near the wall.

Aki tells them about Dr. Hikari’s experiment and how it started in the parking lot of the mall with the program he created called the Dimensional Core, however, viruses have taken over the Dimensional Core making the cyberworld in the mall unstable.

After Aki’s transmission is cut off, everyone decide to go to the parking lot, but not before Yaito reminds us how clumsy Sakurako is by telling her to stay put.

Seriously, what were you thinking, Yaito?

The group find an elevator that is still working, while they wait, Rush sees what looks like a pink female version of himself, presumably, another Mole virus. The girl virus lures him over and then... Does this.

What in the world was that?! This always confuse me. Is that how those viruses are supposed to be like? Is Rush like a tamed virus? Was it trying to eat him? Unfortunately that isn’t the case since Rush quickly hides behind Meiru who then notices that they are not alone.

What a silly question, Dekao. They are viruses, they are programmed to destroy everything in sight, whether it moves or not.

The group manages to escape through the elevator where Tohru says that the viruses probably materialized due to Dr. Hikari’s experiment. Just then, Metools begin to destroy the elevator.

So cute, yet, so deadly.

The group is forced to get off in the second floor with the Mettools right behind them, but they are suddenly stopped by a group of Bunny viruses. With viruses on both sides, Netto and friends pull an impossible stunt to avoid getting hit by the viruses attacks.

No uncomfortable line after that, Netto? When that happened in episode 29 you were pretty happy about it.

After the vines break and Higure is chased away by a Ghostler virus, Netto and his friends decide to use their Navis to stop the experiment from the cyberworld.

I remember this part having my full attention, if viruses where able to materialized in the real world, maybe the Navis would too, we might see something different for once.

o_o Well... That’s certainly different.

Apparently the cyberworld has become so unstable due to the experiment, that the Navis had nowhere to stand on, because that’s how computers work, right?

So after this, we get the second intermission with Rush running away from a Mettool, with some confusing messages from the subs.

One, what would Pharaohman’s first appearance have to do with anything? And two, isn’t it CTRL+Alt+Del? Because either way, DON’T DO IT!

None of the PETs can find the Navis, so Netto takes out his WiFi device and says how it is connected to Rockman, and can tell Netto if there is a Bluetooh-I mean, if Rockman is within range.

Then what was the point of building that thing?

With the Navis missing, the group have to find another solution, but before they can think of something, they are surprised by a Handi virus, and during the confusion, a Magma Dragon virus kidnaps Mariko-sensei with Masa running after it. Netto and friends are then ambushed by a Powei virus who chases them.

While trying to get away from the virus, Meiru trips (because of course she has to trip), Netto goes back for her and gets her out of the way just in time.

The virus breaks a water fountain and the splash deletes it giving Netto an idea of how to fight the viruses.

Meanwhile, we find the Navis walking around an area that looks like the inside of a tree. Since they have no idea where they are or where they’re going, they start to lose hope until Aki-chan appears before them with the compression code for Fast Gauge because we need to speed things up.

We return to Netto and friends who have found Gabgom’s department store that Yaito mentioned back on the plane, where they are all suiting up for some Live Action Virus Busting or LAVB.

So we get a Ghost Buster tribute, but instead of high tech gadgets, our heroes have water guns.

The boys cover an area of the mall shooting water at the viruses to delete them. Rush is also helping out (Even though we know he has a virus summoning ability), and we get one last scene with the weird female Rush virus before she is deleted with the water; but I still have one question in mind.

The girls cover another area where Yaito is riding a mini tank that fires water balloons.

She had a bazooka in another episode so this doesn’t surprise me.

Then we get this quick scene of Masa-san changing into Commander Beef in a dressing room and attempting to save Mariko-sensei from the Magma Dragon.

As expected, it didn’t work.

After this, the Magma Dragon lands and is ready to eat Mariko-sensei or something, but the boys appear to save her. Since the Magma Dragon is big, it takes a lot of water to finally delete it. They reunite with Mariko who asks if everyone is alright.

Wow, that’s cold, Netto. I know it’s just a Gostler, but a materialized virus is still pretty dangerous, except for Rush.

We then get the final commercial break that omits the second part, something the subs kindly reminds us of.

I guess it’s fair since we saw chibi Blues twice in the last episode.

We return with the Navis who finally see the exit.

“Hurry just like a Fast Gauge!”

Back in the real world, our heroes arrive in the parking lot basement where they find the Dimensional core under a gigantic tree, but before they can think of how to fix it, they are surprised by a very big cameo from the game.

The Life Virus!

Of course the anime leaves the final boss of the first game for the final episode, and it is even more intimidating than in the game.

Turns out the powerful Life virus is the one responsible for making the program unstable. Since the boys are the only ones with water tanks for some reason now, they shoot water at the Life Virus, but because it is so humongous, their attacks are ineffective and they quickly run out of water.

With no more water, Netto and friends wait fearfully as the Life virus approaches them, but just then, Netto’s wireless device starts to react.

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! FINALLY!

After 55 episodes, Rockman finally appears in the real world!

The rest of the Navis appear soon after, giving Meiru and the others my exact reaction to this scene.

But I have no idea why this shot was skipped in the dub.

The Life virus attacks and the Navis fight back.

Unfortunately, their combined attacks are not enough to delete the Life virus, so Netto connects his PET to the wireless device in order to send Battle Chips to Rockman.

Now, if you’ve been taking screenshots of the episode like me, you’ll notice that there are quite a few recycled shots and animation errors, like Netto’s slot-in scenes with his regular cloths except that they were painted over to look like the outfit he’s wearing.

And this reused shot from episode 51, since it’s the wrong chip and the background is from the WWW lair.

Kanketsen is Fountain, a chip that normally can only be used with an aqua element Style Change.

Speaking of said Style Change, Netto somehow activates the Aqua Custom Style without the Extra code to finish off the Life virus with the Mega Deus Ex Maquina burst!

Now it’s the right chip, but still the wrong background.

Once the Life virus is deleted, the Dimensional core stabilizes and all the other plants, trees, and even the Net Navis return to the cyberworld.

With everything back to normal, the group find Netto’s dad who was sleeping the whole time, and the ending music starts to play in the background along with the credits.

Netto wakes him up by pulling his ear, and then he has this weird formal exchange with Mariko-sensei.

No questions about why your son’s school teacher is with them in the artificial park you created in a mall in Jawaii?

Now, this part might be a little infuriating since Netto’s dad had no idea that the experiment was corrupted by a Live virus, how it took over the shopping mall, and how everyone was worried about him since they didn’t hear from him in a very long time, but the upbeat ending music kinda makes you realize that this is not suppose to be taken seriously.

The worst part is that Dr. Hikari just straight up leaves Netto behind while he goes back home to Japan in his weird flying van, something I would expect from Yaito.

I guess it’s a good thing the dub changed his lines to avoid making him feel like a jerk. What does he say instead? Well, its kinda of spoiler for what happens next.

Rockman and the other Navis materializing in the real world, and the Ex-WWW is attacked by a giant tree... I should feel satisfied, but not really.

My final thoughts?

Wow, once again the show plays with my emotions by finally making Rockman and the other Navis appear in the real world but it doesn’t last long and it doesn’t feel as meaningful as it should be. The whole episode is treated like a filler episode rather that an important plot point for the next season. During that time, and also because Axess was never dubbed in Latin America, I never knew that they were gonna use the Dimensional Core as the basis for the Dimensional Area in the next season.

Speaking of Axess, it looked like they weren’t even planning on making another season after this, but they just had to because of the forth game that would be released for December of 2003. This episode premiered in March of 2003 while Axess started in October of the same year, that means that the producers had to hire a whole new team of writers and animators to work on Axess in the course of 7 months, because the feeling of the new season is almost completely different from the first two, and that is why the first seasons will remain in my heart while having mixed feelings towards Axess.

The idea of Netto suddenly being an inventor in this episode is a cheap way to introduce the Wireless device he gets from Meiru in BN2.

Only to have it stuck forever on the other side of a room when confronting Princess Pride who had destroy part of the floor.

Battle Network logic.

Before ending this review I have to thank WolfPack Productions and the other groups who subbed these episodes, specifically the former because they made their own credits after this episode.

And thanks to them, not only did I discover that Higure and Numberman are played by the same voice actor, but Coloredman too.

So thanks to them and everyone who follows me on Tumblr and Deviantart who liked and or commented on this reviews.

#Rockman.exe #MegaMan NT Warrior #megaman battle network #anime #dub vs sub #my reviews

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planetsam · 5 years

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can u extend the nail polish one pls?

The nail polish one is here but I copied and pasted the last bit for continuity:

Uncapping the bottle, he winces at the smell and starts to wipe. He doesn’t take care of his nails anymore and the prosthetic doesn’t help. He’s not surprised when a vicious sting happens on his finger as the acetone gets into his cut.

“Fuck,” he swears, “i forgot how that burns.”

Michael’s head flies up and Alex freezes with his finger in his mouth. He is very familiar with the look on Michael’s face. Except it’s magnified a thousand fold. He lowers his finger and Michael squeezes his eyes shut and breathes in through his mouth.

“Are you okay?” Alex says, “is this an alien thing?”

“Yes!” Michael says. Alex raises his eyebrows, “i can’t—not with you and the Acetone and—“ he takes a deep breath through his nose and shudders, “and—“ he shakes his head, “fuck.”

They are supposed to be talking but Alex is already half on his feet by the time Michael gets to him and crushes their mouths together. Alex can’t think as Michael ravished the spot on his lip where his finger was. He winds up half on the desk, his hands shoved under Michael’s shirt as the alien moves in between his legs. He can feel the tension radiating off of Michael and some part of him might be slightly enjoying the rule breaking. But its a very very small part. Acetone is not something you’re supposed to ingest. It’s as beautifully toxic as the man whose attention has gone to the side of his neck.

“Always wondered,” Michael gets out, “ever since i saw your nails.”

“Your fantasy was me taking off my nailpolish?” Alex repeats. Michael stiffens and goes to pull back but Alex locks his legs around him. Michael hates being forced to do anything and Alex can already see the window closing. So he fishes in his pocket and pulls out his purchase, “how do you feel about navy?” He asks.

Michael’s eyes flick from the polish to him and back again. While he’s doing that silent calculation, Alex relaxes his legs but Michael’s only response is to step closer. He closes his hand around the bottle and sets it down, bracing himself against the desk.

“I feel the same way i do about your clothes,” he says, “it’s better off.”

Alex is already reaching for his jacket and Michael helps him, throwing it aside before kissing him again. It’s that same hard kiss that makes him think Michael’s never gone this far into himself before. Which makes sense, considering when they’ve fucked they’ve both been doing their best not to be found out. He gets his hands under Michael’s shirt, fingers digging into his muscles. Michael’s rock hard everywhere. Alex, whose spent a lifetime trying to hold back his reactions to people, sympathizes.

“Fuck,” Michael swears, rocking against him. Alex glances over to see the acetone is still uncapped. He realizes he can still smell it. He grabs the chair with his foot and maneuvers it behind Michael, pushing him back. Michael falls heavily into the chair, breathing unsteadily. “What’re you—“

“I’m not finished,” Alex says, swiping a hand through his hair and grabbing the bottle.

Michael makes a pained noise and tries to get up but Alex puts his foot firmly on his thigh and grabs the bottle. Michael pulls his foot closer which Alex decides is a fair compromise. He’s never thought of this as sexy. But Michael is shifting against his foot and he can feel it. He’s always liked how Michael smells but this is on another level. He scrubs one of his nails. Michael shifts again but doesn’t move. So he does the other. He only had three more nails left anyway. Michael looks like he’s about to claw his way out of his skin, but in a good way for once.

“Missed a spot,” he remarks.

“God. Fuck,” Michael breathes, rolling his head against the chair.

This is hell and heaven and he’s going to fucking kill Alex the second his foot is off his crotch. This is dangerous. Michael knows his obsession with being stronger and better is a classic side of his abandonment issues. He equates being those things with the smell of acetone. Hell, he equates being alright on a base level with the smell of it. It’s the closest thing he has to a safe place. Something he’s always been able to take with him no matter where he’s shipped off to. It’s his, the thing he can control.

Alex is everything he can’t.

Alex accepts him but can’t accept himself. Alex who shrugs off him being an alien like that’s a god damn normal thing, who can forgive him for anything but can’t get over the ghost of his father. It’s got nothing to do with him and he can’t do anything about it. It’s the ultimate powerless situation and Michael hates that feeling. Especially with something he wants. Now his source of power is mixing with his source of powerlessness and it’s affecting him in a way he never could have anticipated. The taste of it and the smell of him hurts. And Michael welcomes the pain. He pushes into Alex’s foot and is rewarded with a stuttering breath from the other man. Good, he deserves that. Michael opens his eyes and stares at Alex. His nails are dripping with acetone.

“You’re clean,” Michael says and he barely recognizes his voice.

“Almost,” Alex says in a sing song tone that cuts through every wall he’s got up, “I think I got some on my—“

Michael snaps again and throws his foot off, steadying him as he gets to his feet and goes right in between his legs. Alex grabs his shirt for support and Michael grips his hand. Alex’s eyes widen and he doesn’t breathe as Michael sucks the acetone from his fingers. He grabs the bottle and pours half of it down his throat. Alex stares at him like he’s torn between this being weird as fuck and it being hot as fuck. Michael decides to make sure which is which and pulls his shirt off, leaning back to kiss him. Alex pulls back.

“God, I can smell it on your breath,” he says and shakes his head. Michael remembers through his haze that this stuff is bad for humans. That he has purposefully kept it a secret because it’s bad for humans and Alex is, well, Alex, “just—“

“Shit, right,” he says looking around, “ventilation—“

Alex makes a noise of protest and hooks his belt loops, pressing to the ridge in his jeans. Michael keeps his mouth shut as he knocks their lips together.

“Can’t have you passing out,” he says and pulls him off the desk. Alex slides after him and Michael drags them both upstairs to the cabin. He cleans out his mouth with listerine in the kitchen sink and turns around to see Alex right behind him. Good. Michael uses his powers to help him haul the taller man up onto the counter.

“Fuck,” Alex echoes his swear, voice sounding absolutely wrecked in a very good way, “what the—“

“Alien, remember? Power boost from the acetone,” he says, setting to work on Alex’s neck. Alex swears louder and rakes his nails down his back. Michael groans into his skin and goes for his jeans.

“Fuck, wait, wait,” Alex swears, “bed.”

“Bed?” Michael repeats, looking at him.

“Bed. Now,” Alex says.

Michael shrugs and they get over to the bed as fast as possible before Alex kisses him in a way that takes all of his attention. Alex doesn’t know why he needs this to change. Maybe finding out such a huge secret of Michael’s makes him want to match. Or level the playing field. Michael works his shirt up and tugs it off until they’re both standing there in just their jeans. Alex pulls back and Michael gives him a questioning look.

“Bed’s more comfortable,” Alex says. Michael’s gaze softens. Alex rests his forehead against his as Michael skims his hands down his sides and hooks his fingers back into his pants, “God,” Alex swears and goes for his buckle but Michael beats him to it.

“Just me,” he says.

Alex pulls him back onto the bed with him, not letting them break apart as they get the rest of their clothes off. Michael sits back wearing just his underwear and slides his hands down the length of Alex’s leg. Alex tries to chase it with his hips but Michael goes right to the end of it. Alex breathes in unsteadily as Michael easily finds the valve and lets the air out of his leg. He slides it off and moves his hands up to the top of the sleeve. Alex swears as he pushes his hands higher up his thigh. He stumbled onto something with the acetone. Michael knows what he’s doing. Staying away from each other his ass. One of Michael’s hands slides into his sleeve, the other presses him through his underwear. Alex full on moans, pushing up into the pressure as Michael pulls off the sleeve.

“Fuck, what the—“ Alex gets up on his elbows.

“Google,” Michael dismisses, coming back up his body.

“Dresser,” he says and Michael grins against his mouth, the supplies flying across the room onto the bed, “come on,” he says, already moving towards Michael’s underwear. Michael chuckles and it’s just about the best sound Alex can imagine before he wraps his hand around him and he swears again.

It’s odd being on a proper bed, doing this with so many vulnerabilities out there in the open. But it’s also kind of perfect. Until it’s over and Michael shivers and Alex realizes how hot his forehead is against his own. He goes to roll off him and Michael grips his hips, keeping him where he is.

“Just—give me a minute. It’s the acetone,” he says. Alex nods and runs his fingers up Michael’s spine as the alien shivers again. After a minute though, he turns and gets Michael onto his back, “m’fine,” Michael says when Alex goes to pull away.

“You’re not,” Alex shoots back, “does this always happen?” Michael stares at him, “don’t,” Alex says when he’s met with stony silence, “I swear to God, Michael—“

“No. It’s just me,” he says, “I drink more of it than they do.”

Alex frowns. He’s seen that from guys before. Who push themselves harder, who take more shit than they should. He’s gotten close to doing it himself but he lucked into a team of doctors that included his brother. And he’d been stopped before he went down that road. Michael looks at him pleadingly.

“We’re coming back to this,” Alex tells him but lays down next to him. Michael rolls his eyes but pulls him back, “I’m serious.”

“Hi serious, I’m Michael,” Michael says sarcastically.

Alex rolls his eyes and pulls the blankets up around the alien, holding him close until the tremors stop.

#michael guerin #alex manes #michael x alex #malex #roswell new mexico #roswell nm fanfic #fanfic prompts #malex fic

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dalekofchaos · 5 years

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How the Empire could’ve won the war

Imagine if The Empire had competent military leaders and decided to bypass Palpatine’s overconfidence and incompetence. These are ways I think the Empire could’ve won. Before anyone calls me out, this is just for fun and I do not believe they should’ve won, I just think if more competent Imperials were in charge aside from Thrawn, The Empire could’ve won.

Better PR. Seriously, The Case for the Empire lays out an excellent defense for the Galactic Empire. Basically, the Republic was rotting, everyone saw that. All the Empire had to do was take power and not make people desperate enough to rebel. Keep the peace, enforce the law and not be so heavy handed.

Do not be dependent on fear. When Palpatine ascended as emperor, ended the rotting Republic and ended the Clone Wars basically everyone was happy. However in only 20+ years he went from most loved person in the galaxy to the most feared/hated one. There was no need to build the Death Stars and such a massive military. Those were necessary for rule through fear. But instead of fear Palpatine could’ve ruled by love. He was definitely cunning enough to fool the galaxy further. Instead Palpatine’s, Vader’s and Tarkin’s methods led to a creation of a giant rebellion that brought the Empire down.

Act like a real Empire with no Xenophobia. Induct alien races into their empire and continue their expansion by conquering territory while promoting their way of life over others. Their downfall was being dogmatic and authoritarian to the point that everyone rebelled against their regime.

Don’t terrorize other species. Whether Palpatine genuinely hated other races than humans or just pretended to do in order to divide his potential enemies it was a bad move. Excluding non-humans from the upper echelons of the Imperial military and power structure (Thrawn, Grand Inquisitor or Mas Amedda excluded) limited the Empire’s power base. Terrorizing other species created more enemies the Empire had to deal with and which helped to brought it down.

Krennic’s survival. I fee like the Death Star might not have been destroyed in A New Hope if Orson Krennic was still in charge. He was far more in tune with the battlestation’s capabilities than Tarkin ever was. I feel like he would have recognized the threat to the base sooner and squashed the Rebel fighters in the trench sooner He wasn't afraid to get into the battle and it really wasn't his fault that the plans fell into the wrong hands, the Rebels just outclassed the Empire during that sneak attack. Tarkin's blind arrogance and underestimation of the Rebels is what allowed the Death Star to be destroyed.

A New Hope 1. Recover any jettisoned escape pods right away, otherwise destroy them: Some see this a major plot hole. I'd say people (and imperial personnel, for that matter), do make mistakes. To avoid those, they should have had a pursuit protocol: Pull the captured ship in, then close the doors, maybe have two or three squadrons of TIE fighters doing the rounds, in case a escape pod gets out before the doors are closed and, more important, have some recovery ships out, so that fleeing pods can be captured instead of just blasted into oblivion. A captured pod can be searched. As far as we know, only one copy of the plans was made. 2. Disable the Millenium Falcon: You just captured a ship that matches another ship you were chasing, no one is inside, at the very least, take the keys off the ignition, remove the battery, maybe secure it with a chain and a lock. And they had time to work on it, enough time to install a tracking device, anyway. However, I'm willing to give them this one: Let's say they were absolutely sure the Rebellion would not find anything useful by looking at the plans, so it was fine to let them escape with them, make presumably a hundred copies and spread them across the galaxy. That level of confidence in your development and validation teams is amazing. Not only do you think a potential enemy will not find any flaws, but you're also convinced they won't try to build their own space station using your plans. Bravo. 3. Build an Imperial blockade of Star Destroyers around the Death Star. 4. Send the Imperial Fleet to Yavin IV, not your ultimate weapon: The Death Star had just accomplished what it had been built to do: It was a last-resort enforcer of policy. They destroyed an entire, fully populated planet, because Tarkin wanted to do a demonstration. That was stupid, but effective anyway, it would definitely make it into the news all over the place. Then you put the gun away, hopefully never to use it again. Any opposition in the galaxy would have crumbled at the chance of seeing that thing show up in the sky. They had tracked the Millenium Falcon to Yavin IV, but the Rebel Fleet was clearly not there. The attack on the Death Star was executed with thirty small ships, hardly a major engagement (unlike the battle against the second Death Star). If anything, the Battle of Yavin could have been compared in size to the Battle of Hoth, which was dealt with using a subset of the Imperial Navy, plus infantry. In the meantime, they could have done some additional vulnerability analysis with the Death Star well hidden elsewhere, find the exhaust port and maybe even other vulnerabilities, and put torpedo-proof blinds on it.

Empire Strikes Back 1. The Battle of Hoth: There are eight Star Destroyers (Executor, 6 smaller but still impressive Star Destroyers of two classes and one Victory class) involved. Executor closes with the planet and proceeds to blast the surface with their turbolaser batteries, ignoring the shield generator. Eventually the base with flood (with magma or ice). The two Imperial-1 class destroyers fly interference for the Executor, keeping fighter wings in the air as well as intercepting anything attempting to escape. The four Imperial-II class destroyers blockade the planet: One at each pole, and one either side of the equator to watch for trickery. The Victory class destroyer is a mobile interception device for capital ships and corvettes launching from Hoth. Now all they need to do is wait. They'll either pick the base off piecemeal, destroy it with Turbolaser Terraforming or the rebels will attempt to flee: In which case, the remaining destroyers will pick them off. The Ion Cannon doesn't act as a permenent 'disable', the base has a limited power generator and there are too many ships for the Ion Cannon to cover for. The planet will give way long before they starve the rebels out. Hell, the 501st had elements in the fleet sent, they could have just left everyone in orbit and stuffed Vader with them into a drop pod, unleashing on the base instead of the costly assault. 2. On Bespin: A heavier hand. The figurehead of the rebellion and five of its greater heroes were present.. and all of them got away. As soon as the trap was sprung, simply moving in with heavy interception cover would have been enough to decapitate the Rebellion. They had, at the bare minimum, twelve fighters: Three ties, 8 tie-interdictors and at least one Tie Defender (Which was probably capable of destroying the Falcon alone). They'd surrender before dying, so Vader gets his apprent-er, 'the emperor's prize', the Rebellion gets executed in a suitable gory fashion on Galactic Holovision and the Rebellion ends. 3. The Falcon, a known dangerous and rebel-owned craft, was sitting on its landing pad the whole time. You've got EIGHT Tie Interdictors (bombers) prowling Bespin. Maybe one could spare a second to drop some ordinance on the powered down craft? The one on a pad with no supports barring its umbilical, about 50-100m out from its parent building? 4. If you won’t destroy the Falcon, criple the Falcon. Seriously, cripple the Falcon: The same technicians who disabled the hyperdrive could've taken a few more minutes to mess up the rest, making it unable to take off. Leia, Chewie, Lando and the droids were already surrounded at the landing platform. It would've ended up in a horrible standoff or maybe even a peaceful surrender. But it would have ended there. Afterwards, Vader would've sensed and captured Luke, making sure he was given top-notch medical attention and a high-end replacement hand. Then, who knows, maybe he could've have enjoyed some much-needed face time with his dad and get things off to a better start.

Return Of The Jedi 0. Jabba The Hutt is smart. Jabba does not hold a grand execution. He has Luke, Han, Leia, Chewbacca, Lando and the droids at his mercy. He plans to offer them up as hostages to the Empire. Since it's established that Vader and Jabba became partners in the new canon comics, I could see The Empire paying Jabba's demands. Jabba’s demands are simple. Money, a replacement Rancor and Princess Leia as his personal slave for the rest of her life. The Empire is more than happy to oblige. Vader comes to Jabba’s palace and takes the Rebels. The droids are dismantled. Han, Lando and Chewbacca are executed. Leia remains by Jabba’s side as a slave. Now that Luke has nothing left, he embraces his destiny and joins his father. They take out The Emperor and rule the galaxy as father and son. 1. Stop and arrest the crew of the stolen imperial shuttle: Part of this is pure speculation, but I assume the crew led into Endor by Han Solo had no way to let their fleet know that they had made it. So, as a perfect corollary to a great plan to force the Rebel Fleet into a decisive battle, set up an ambush to capture the advance team on the ground on Endor as soon as they set foot on it. Of course, it would be a lot easier to just blast the shuttle before it even lands. The thing was loaded with explosives, even a humble stormtrooper with a thermal detonator could have done the work. Of course, Vader would have been upset because of his insistence in mixing family and business. In any case, the generator shield would have remained intact, with the second Death Star being fully operational: It did manage to do a lot of damage to the Rebel Fleet, and the Imperial Navy could've done the rest once they started fighting at close range. Also, think of the fact that the Rebels would've had Lando Calrissian insisting that they should wait on Han to blow up the shield. At that moment, Han would've been either dead or sitting in a cell. And the assault on the Death Star II would’ve been a failure. 2. Vader tries to convince his son to join willingly. Vader does very little to connect with his son. He wants to call him Anakin? That's fine, let him do it. In fact, Vader could have used that to tell him his story, after all, the Jedi were indeed very arrogant and unfair towards Anakin, let Luke know that. Maybe even tell him about Padme, he seemed very curious about his mom, he would've listened to that. Same goes for the Emperor, instead of antagonizing Luke from the beginning, he could have asked him about the things he disliked about the Empire. What reforms would he support? Would he be willing to lead some of those reforms from the inside? Just because you're bad, doesn't mean you need to be crass. Also, Palpatine was friends with Padme, right to the very end, bring that up as well. 3. Exterminate the Ewoks. The Empire is not above genocide and would showcase even more reason to want to take them down. They're a warrior culture. You know it, they know it. Your first expedition to Endor was nearly foiled by the furry little bastards, who were surprised and outnumbered. You know, the one where they were looking for a site to set up the shield generator for the second Death Star? Or don't even bother! First, glass the area with turbolasers. A quick planetary firestorm and you've got a nice wasteland to build your facilities in. Suddenly, no ewoks. You can see the rebels coming a few kilometers away. Problem solved, no exploding battlestation.

Build the Death Star II around Coruscant. This is the heart of the enemy. It's in the galactic core, there is plenty of space for a shield generator and it is HEAVILY defended. Not only is it heavily defended, it's even further into the Core than Coruscant and Palpatine is even more powerful there. He can very literally puppet a good portion of the population.

Practical Mass Production Vs. Egomaniacal Engineering. Bigger is not always better. Constantly seeking to build bigger military weapons takes time, money, and resources all of which could be used towards the mass production and perfection of smaller weapons. For example, how many millions of Republic credits does an Imperial AT-AT walker cost and how completely unnecessary is a vehicle of that size on the battlefield? The Empire already has a fighting force a million times larger than any other in the galaxy, why does it need to waste time on things like Death Stars and Super Star Destroyers? Building smaller fighters and ships is the better way to go. Build more Interdictor-class cruisers. These ships used mass shadow generators to literally pull ships from hyperspace by projecting an illusion of the gravity well of a planet. In Star Wars a ship cannot go into hyperspace while inside a planet’s gravity well. This means that any rebel ships that unwittingly raid an Imperial facility where an Interdictor class vessel is present are sitting ducks from the moment they are sucked out of hyperspace. In the Imperial Handbook: A Commander’s Guide, Princess Leia writes that “if the Empire had known how to build smart instead of big they would have built thousands more Interdictors.” She goes on to claim that, if they had, the Rebel Alliance “might not have survived.”

Give Tie-Fighters armor and shields. Sacrificing armour and shielding for maneuverability and speed is gross incompetence. With armour and shielding plus the talented Imperial Pilots, you have an Imperial Navy that is a force to be reckoned with.

Do not sacrifice quality for quantity for the Stormtroopers. They are as they are meant to be, elite soldiers of the Imperial Military. So do just that. Make them elite, feared and powerful. Only recruit the best. Give better protection and the best tech. Give the quality of the Clone Troopers, but improve on that for the Stormtroopers and you have an army worth fearing.

Continued Production Of Dark Troopers. Sometimes a top secret expensive weapon can give you an advantage in war. One that the enemy will never see coming and not have the slightest hope in the universe of stopping. Enter the Imperial Dark Trooper, a seven-foot tall robot who fights better than any human being, has a jetpack, fast, fires a supercharged weapon that shoots both high concentrated plasma and rockets, and is considerably scary looking. A simply platoon's worth of these guys is enough to wipe out entire outposts and bases of their enemy. They work fast and leave nothing, but death in their wake. After a few minutes whatever was their target is gone, reduced to smoldering ruins. Sometimes their victims don't even have time to make a distress call. Needless to say, they're bad news, though they remain pretty much unheard of. Fortunately for the good guys, the Empire never got around to truly deploying the Dark Troopers in great numbers like the Trade Federation did with their goofy battle droids. You may already know the history from playing the classic first-person shooter Dark Forces, of course: the mercenary Kyle Katarn was able to locate the secret production facility for Dark Troopers in space. Once aboard the Arc Hammer, he destroyed the ship and the Dark Trooper menace was put out of commission to almost never be seen again. If they did have more than one facility, and use Dark Troopers solely in their battles and invasions, keeping the regular storm troopers in reserve, The Rebels would not have a hope of winning.

Design better Death Stars. This might be the single most obvious and easiest solution to them all. If you build a planet-sized space station, then you don't leave a small hole two meters wide for the enemy to launch torpedoes into. Now the idea of a Space Station needing an exhaust port does make sense in that pseudo sci-fi way. Don't want our Stormtroopers dying in the middle of the night to carbon monoxide ventilation problems, do? But why not place a metal slab with slits over it? Or raise the metal slab so the vents are on the sides? Or make the ventilation pipe more crooked inside so it's not a straight shot to the reactor core? What if? What if? What if? There are so many painfully simple solutions to the problem. I can forgive the idea of the second Death Star being blown up because it was still under construction, although - I'll say again - if the exhaust system leading to the reactor core isn't made in a stupid straight line then a ship isn't going to be able to pass through it.

Make Thrawn the commanding officer on Endor. I know what you must be thinking, Thrawn was sent away via Rebels finale. Let’s just say this is a scenario where Thrawn was successful on Lothal. Thrawn would have shown up weeks before the battle, taken one look at the "primitive natives" on Endor, and figured out a way to stop them from beating up AT-STs with giant wooden logs or killing stormtroopers with rocks. The Death Star lives, the Rebel fleet gets completely wiped out. Mobilizes the fleet comprised of Interdictor-class cruisers and Tie-Defenders. Thrawn would be smart enough not to allow Luke anywhere near The Emperor. Thrawn would successfully either destroy the shuttle or capture the landing party. Thrawn would convince Palpatine it is safer to execute the Jedi and Palpatine agrees and if Vader objects, Palpatine would just unleash a storm of force lightning killing Vader and securing victory for the Empire once and for all.

#star wars #the galactic empire #Emperor Sheev Palpatine #darth sidious #darth vader #grand admiral thrawn #stormtroopers #tie fighters #the death star

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la-vita-in-arancione · 5 years

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Killer Queen - Chapter 4: Jesus

Summary: Arabella Ruth White is the fifth member of the Marauders. And life at Hogwarts certainly isn’t easy. Especially when you have alcohol, relationships, unhealthy music obsessions, a fake stage persona, weird ass friends with weird ass problems and actual school all thrown into the equation. (This story is also on Wattpad of the same name. I will always update on there first.)

A/N: So here is another chapter of Killer Queen! Sorry this took so long and I actually have no excuse as I have (so far) two more chapters that are already up on Wattpad. Sorry! However, the good news is that this chapter marks the beginning of my more better written chapters. And by that I mean more recent.

Warning(s): swearing of course

Word count: 2.4 k + (told you these ones would be better)

Taglist: @missqueeniewrites

Ask to be on my taglist!

The way I woke up that morning was far from graceful. It wasn't until I opened my eyes that I noticed I was on the cold, hard floor of our dormitory. I sat up slowly, yawning as I was not used to waking up this early. I looked around the room and the girls were all getting ready for school. Great. Louise was looking at me somewhat guiltily but looked away as soon as I caught her eye.

Oh.

That's why I was on the floor.

"Who pushed me out of bed?" I sighed, already knowing that that was what had happened. I raised an eyebrow at the girls as I got up and started getting ready myself.

"Marlene did it!" Alice pointed at her, earning a glare in her direction.

"Och, flin' me under th' fecking bus, wa dornt ye?" she all but yelled in her thick Scottish accent.

"Language," Lily warned darkly. Stupid Lily with her stupid prefect bullshit and stupid innocence.

"Marlene, I can't believe you would betray me like that!" I put my hand over my heart in mock offence. Of course I could believe that, she's the only person who is brave enough to cross me.

"Looise tauld me tae in th' first place! She said ye hud had enaw beauty sleep!"

"Oi! Those weren't my exact words! I just said she needs to get a move on, that's all!"

"Awe rite honey but yoo're foolin' nobody."

I sighed and started getting dressed into half of my uniform because since when did I ever get fully dressed? I decided on a pair of denim blue bell-bottoms along with my dress shirt, Hogwarts robe and some white platform shoes. What can I say? I want to make an impression on our first day of lessons. To add to this, I applied some makeup in our shared bathroom. Namely, silver glittery eyeshadow, bright red lipstick and thick mascara. I also put in my trusty gold hoop earrings and I let my hair fall naturally. I admired my reflection in the mirror and, I have to say, I looked fabulous.

Exactly what I was going for.

I saw Lily give me a disapproving look to which I responded with a sweet smile as I grabbed my bag and left the dormitory. Clearly, the boys had decided to not wait for me and head straight to the hall. How nice of them.

I made my way down there, my heels clicking on the stone floors of the school. A lot of people stared in my direction as I walked, most of them being mesmerised first years who couldn't believe someone would actually dress like me on the first day. I earned a few wolf whistles from a group of boys standing at the side of the corridor. A couple of them were pretty cute, not gonna lie, so I winked at them and carried on. I finally reached the Great Hall and entered with a swish of my robe because I'm dramatic like that. I sensed a lot of eyes on me but I just wanted to sit down and eat because I'm a hungry bitch and nobody comes between me and my food.

I found our table and, just as I thought, the boys were already there. I sat down between Remus and Sirius, opposite James and Peter, with another swish of my robe, "So kind of you to wait for me," I said, my voice dripping in sarcasm.

"It's not our fault you take forever to get ready," James said, shoving a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

"Well I'm sorry darling but it takes time to look this fabulous," I started piling food onto my plate, knowing full well I wouldn't eat it all.

"We got our time tables before you got here," Remus interjected before James could retaliate. He handed me my timetable and I thanked him quietly, studying the slip of paper carefully.

"What day is it?" I asked, genuinely not knowing what lessons we had today. I heard an exasperated sigh from my left which I could only assume was from Remus.

"It's Tuesday," Peter piped up. I smiled at him gratefully and went to check what we had today.

And then I screamed.

"What is it now?" Sirius asked, seemingly already bored of my dramatic antics.

"We have fucking History Of Magic first," I groaned, rolling off of the bench and flopping onto the floor on my back like a corpse, "I am dead. Don't come to my funeral."

"Miss White, what on earth are you doing on the floor?" a familiar voice from above demanded.

"Is that you God? It's just you sound a lot more like Minnie than I imagined," I said, earning a few childish giggles from the table.

"Miss White, please get off of the floor," Minnie said, giving me a pointed look.

"Alright, alright, I'll get up, don't fret," I stood up and returned her glare with a immature smirk, "How may I help you, madam?" I curtsied politely and heard more snickers from the boys.

"You may help me by somehow giving me the strength to put up with you five this year," she said. Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaamn, Minnie.

"I can try but no promises," I smiled and sat back down to finish my breakfast.

"I trust you all had a good summer?" she inquired. I felt Sirius tense up next to me so I grabbed his free hand supportively. A chorus of 'yeahs' came from the rest of us, however Sirius only nodded, gritting his teeth.

Minnie seemed to catch on to this, "Well, you all know you can come and talk to me in my office if there is anything you need to get off your chest. I shall see you later," she walked off back to the teacher's table.

"You OK, dear?" I asked, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. He replied with a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. I left it at that, not wanting to press the matter further. Letting go of his hand, I quickly ate more of my food as the boys had almost finished theirs.

We talked a bit more before making our way to the cursed class that is History Of Magic. Honestly, I will fail this on purpose if it means I don't have to take it next year. Although knowing me, I wouldn't have to make myself fail. Professor Binns had actually made a seating plan for once this year and, after seeing that I was sitting next to Sirius and behind Remus, took my seat. I don't know what the point of the seating plan would be if he was going to sit us near each other anyway but oh well. It's not like I'm complaining.

Sirius immediately started chatting up the girl sitting behind us which reminded me that I now had to find a boyfriend as soon as possible. Not because I'm needy, but just because it's fun having a new boyfriend every other week. Don't judge me.

Binns started calling out the register and as I'm usually at the end somewhere, I didn't really pay attention. Except an eerie silence had fallen over the classroom after he had called the first out the first name, "Idania?"

Nothing. The name seemed familiar but I wasn't sure where from.

"Idania?"

Still nothing. It still wasn't ringing any bells.

"Idania Arango?"

And that's when the name clicked. I had never properly met the girl before but I had definitely seen her in a couple of my classes through the years. Her navy blue hair meant you could always spot her in a crowd. And if that wasn't enough to single her out, she had a shit load of piercings in her ears and nose. But I couldn't help but recall that she never really spoke.

Oh.

I had never heard her speak.

Oh shit.

I had never heard Idania speak because she couldn't speak.

Because she was deaf.

Fuck.

I frantically looked around the room to find this mystery girl until I realised she was sitting right in front of me, next to Remus. I leaned over the desk to lightly tap her on the shoulder. Her head whipped round to face me and I just pointed at the teacher. Her eyes widened in panic and a deep blush flooded her tan skin. She sheepishly turned back round and raised her hand. Binns sighed and continued with the register and the class resumed their conversations. Idania turned back to me, touched her chin with her fingers and brought her arm down so her palm was facing up. She mouthed something as she did this and it took her a couple of tries for me to understand that she was thanking me. I smiled kindly back at her, waving my hand as it to say 'no worries'. She seemed a bit flustered as she faced the board once again.

Of course I didn't want her to feel too embarrassed so I caught Remus's attention, "Hey, Remus! Remus!"

He reluctantly looked at me, "What do you want Ruth?"

"Could you try having a conversation with Idania so she doesn't feel too uncomfortable?" I felt quite bad talking about her when she was right there and I felt even worse when I told myself that she couldn't hear me.

"And how do you suggest I do that? I don't know sign language," he replied.

I rolled my eyes at the boy, "Darling, it's not hard. Just write something on a piece of paper and show it to her! She's deaf, not an alien."

He nodded somewhat nervously at me before doing what I had said. Why was he nervous? She doesn't bite. Or at least I don't think she does. I just put it down to him being a socially awkward peanut and watched him pass the note into her line of vision. She hesitated before reading whatever Remus had written. She gave him a look of almost childlike joy before writing a reply.

This repeated for a few minutes before I nudged Sirius and whispered to him, "Look at the pair of them!"

"Aw that's cute," he murmured back, completely blanking the girl he had been talking to, "Is that the girl from earlier?"

"Idania? Yeah, that's her."

The sweet exchange went on like that for the rest of the lesson. One would read and write their message while the other would take down notes and actually try and participate in the lesson. She must have been interesting, as she somehow managed to distract Remus from the lesson, which was a near impossible task, even for me and the boys. Both of them appeared to be sad when the end of the lesson came. Remus gave a small wave and Idania returned it pitter-pattering her fingers up and down, like one of Sirius's girlfriends would do to get his attention. He blushed lightly as she raced out of the room.

"Remus has a crush!" I said in a sing song tone, skipping up to him. The other boys caught up with us and we started walking to our next lesson. While Sirius and I kept teasing the poor boy, James and Peter were confused as fuck as they had been sitting on the other side of the room and had no idea what had happened.

"Any of you care to explain?" James raised his eyebrows at us.

"Remus is in loooOOOOOOOOoooooooove!" I grinned, twirling around and letting my robe flare out like a ballgown, "He was definitely chatting up Idania!"

"I was not chatting her up! We were just having a conversation!" Remus tried to defend himself but none of us were buying it.

"Isn't she the deaf girl?" James asked, cocking his head to the side.

I rolled my eyes, "Darling, there's more to the girl than her having one less sense than you."

James looked incredibly guilty after this and I smirked to myself. Well at least I had something to gush about with the girls now. Who could imagine that? Remus Lupin having a crush. I couldn't blame him. Idania seemed to be very intriguing and she must be quite bold to have her hair that colour. I didn't even know if that was allowed, even though I made my hair have different colours from time to time.

Anyway, this was going to be fun.

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sydwrites-things · 6 years

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The very first thing I wrote for my WIP.

This is my very first exploration into my WIP characters just to get to know them a little better. So my final draft will look a lot different, but this is basically their dynamic. (On a bad day) (there is cursing in this but in my final no f-bombs will be said) (if my mom ever read it she’d kill me)

My novel set in the early 2000s. There is a group of young teenagers, two specifically who are siblings and have been put through the foster system. After a brutal car accident, realizing that the girl may have some sort of abilities, and the sudden uproar of disturbing murders that wreak havoc on the town, the group of kids embark on a ridiculously risky quest: to catch the murderer. Oof

"Can you, like, not do that?"

"You wouldn't understand!" The girl with golden brown hair lamented, smothering her pinched face with her hands. "I'm having a crisis, Meredith, something you and your perfect stright-A little ass wouldn't understand, okay?"

"Sully, you've failed every other test this quarter, I don't understand why this one in particular matters."

"It matters”—Sully uncovered her eyes, shooting Winston a livid glare— "because now my parents are going to make me get a tutor. I mean, that-that’s embarrassing! Like, I can't even figure out some stupid math equations on my own so I need Owen Clarke to teach me." Throwing her head back with her eyes slammed shut, she forced in a melodramatic break before spitting out, "Why can't I just be fucking normal?!"

"Language!"

The group twisted their heads around, their eyes falling upon an old couple sitting in the booth behind them.

"Sorry," Winston said. "My friend here is just having a crisis."

Unabashed, the old woman whose hair was slicked back into a tightly wound grey bun, pressed her lips into a tight line. Across from her, the old man set his jaw, his grey eyes narrowing into slits.

"Well quit the cursing and have some decency, there are people trying to enjoy a nice evening here."

When the couple looked back down to their plates of food, Sully let out a disconcerted huff.

"Fuckin' old people."

Shaking her head, Meredith pressed her palms against the table and leaned back into the cushion. "Okay enough complaining, Sully, we really don't want to hear about this right now."

"Some friends you are," the girl grumbled.

"Wh- Julianne was literally murdered, like, two days ago, God forbid I don't want to focus on all the negative shit going on in our lives." She took a strand of her black curls and twisted it between her fingers, sighing dejectedly.

"You mean like your mom dating Mr. Wilson?" Parker leaned in with a partially eaten fry hovering in the air only centimeters from his lips; he'd been about to take a bite but found his spur of the moment comment too thrilling to hold in. With a shit-eating grin on his face, his eyes containing a sly gleam, he anticipated Meredith's reaction. "Or the fact that the play was cancelled”—He shot a glare past Sully's face at the counter where a negligent Mrs. Ronkowski scrubbed at a permanent marker stain with a dry tissue, a hurt look on his face—"or that Ellis and Alan changed the goddamn guacamole recipe by adding cilantro-" Parker clenched his fists, pushing back in his seat to rise up with an intimidating demeanor. "Cilantro tastes like fucking soap!!”

"Parker!" Sully hissed.

Meredith lifted her hand, clutching the boy's navy blue jacket and yanking it back in a desperate attempt to tame him. However, his outside voice had already captured the old couple's attention, and a few other people turned their heads with the same disgruntled expression. "Sit the hell down."

Parker folded his arms over his chest and pouted, not noticing how, beside him, Winston bore his eyes into him, disappointed.

"What did you even gain from th- nevermind, I don't even care," Meresith said. Then, she looked back at Sully with her dark eyes heavy. "I'm just saying some positivity would be nice; you'd be the one who I'd expect to understand that."

"I know...I'm sorry," the other girl muttered with a sigh. After a considerably long pause, Sully lifted her head to look at each of them.

"Everything just sucks, y'know? Sure being positive is great and all, but—" she glanced over to the golden coat hooks which were mounted to the wall, trying to summon the image of Julianne's jean jacket hanging on its usual hook—" shouldn't we be able to feel the bad stuff for a while before things get back to normal—if it ever does."

"She's right," Winston cut in, shifting in his seat, "I mean, I agree with the positivity thing, but there comes a point when we're lying to ourselves—bullshitting our feelings, if you will. My mom calls it suppressing your emotions." Meredith stared back at him, her expression unwavering. "Yeah like that."

"Shut up."

Suddenly, catching the kids off guard, Charlie approached the booth and forcefully squeezed his way next to Parker.

"Hey," he greeted them nonchalantly as he grabbed a fry from the basket. Sully watched across the table as he chewed, his eyes fixated on nothing in particular. She exchanged a silent glance with Meredith, then drew her glass of lemonade closer, resting her lips on the straw.

"Didn't you have a test to study for?" She grumbled, one brown eyebrow swooping low.

"It's calc," he shrugged, "easy."

Shooting a pointed finger at Sully's contorted face, Parker broke out in a fit of laughter. An obnoxious, snorting, whole-hearted belly laugh filled the Diner, prompting the old couple and the few others to once again glance at them. After a moment, Sully drew her foot back and nailed the boy in his chin, making his boisterous laughter come to an abrupt end as he let out a pained gasp.

"Shit," the boy, stifling another round of laughter, hissed, and reached down to rub at the rapidly swelling welt. "You're just pissy because yo—"

"—Parker, don't," Meredith demanded. "Just...can we all just pretend like everything is normal? Not even happy—" in one swift movement, she back-handed Parker in the chest, not appreciating how he began mouthing her words in a mocking way— "just normal. Can we do that? Please?"

Like two year olds, Sully and Parker slouched in their seats. For a while things were silent, and the ceiling fan over their heads swung back and forth with a rhyme clicking; Sully stared up at it.

“Fine.”

#WIP #vanish #probably the title #original writing #sully #Sully McCoy #aspiring writer #writeblr #first draft

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alixzandriapaige · 3 years

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Grimcliff Court - Chapter Three

Summary: Prince Quinton of Grimcliff has watched misunderstood magic destroy his Kingdom for 24 long years. When he finally finds a Knight righteous enough to defy the kingdom for its own good, Quinton and his Knight, Alixzandria, must trick the king and save the world from the nightmarish monsters Grimcliff Court has created.

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The carriage stops.

There is an audible click in the lock, then the door is propped open. There is a barrage of goosebumps due to the chill evening air.

Sloan clambers out and walks around to the passenger side, extending his hand for Alixzandria to take, just as they had practiced. She grabs it and is whisked away across the drawbridge towards Grimcliff castle.

The unusual feeling of layers of navy-blue lace around her ankles nearly trips her. Eventually, distracted by the many beautiful suits of armor surrounding them, decorated with the clan image of ferocious stalking lions to represent King Ulysses Grimcliff, she does stumble.

Sloan catches her by the arm.

“Focus,” He reminds her with a smile.

Her dark eyes reflect the blinding shimmering of armor.

“I wish I had been allowed to bring my sword,” She confesses breathlessly.

They look up at the pristine building before them; it towers up to the heavens, blocking out the dancing pastels of the twilight around them.

Looking down at the gaping stone door, there is a long scarlet ribbon that dances in the breeze, beckoning the guests closer, disappearing deep into the castle. Blazing torches cast long shadows across both faces.

They look at each other.

Her posture is nearly correct; her back is rod-straight, her head perfectly poised to carry a multitude of books. The difference in her posture, the one thing that calls attention to her being an outsider, was the gait with which she stood. She does not try to waltz around, her grace leading her across the floor. Instead, she pushes herself forward with strength and will.

“Now walk along with me,” Sloan instructs her, whispering softly into her ear, pulling her along by the grip he has through their intertwined arms.

The ribbon sections off the main gallery of the tower, creating a scarlet maze. After walking through the parted-off pathways in the gallery, the two guests are led deep into the back of the tower, into a twisting corridor that descends into darkness, four mystery floors between here and the next wall-kept lantern.

They descend.

There are a few straggling guests looking for their own spots on either side of Sloan and Alixzandria, and they allow the strangers to lead the way. Eventually coming upon a wooden door, closed with metal bolts, they push it open and walk into the light.

The new room is a vast colosseum layered on all sides with four tiers of seating. Sloan and Alixzandria find themselves within the lowest tier, which is the fullest. They stand with just enough room for a full lung-full of air, and due to the proximity of strangers, she is bombarded by talk and gossip.

Many of the strangers look at Alixzandria and whisper behind hand-held fans decorated in intricate patterns. She pays them no attention and instead scours the higher tiers for the royals whose names and ranks she could match with faces. These would be the masters she would need to approach.

“I used to work here,” Sloan reminds her with a gentle tone, amber eyes twinkling beneath the descending chandeliers. “I was initiated right in this room.”

She does a quick scan at the colosseum itself.

“Weird decorations,” She said, eyeing the evenly spaced stone stands that each held a different antique weapon.

“Those are forbidden, you’ll be yelled at just for looking at them,” He tells her. “But yes, very strange.”

He peeks over at her; she has been watching him, one chocolate eye peering from her peripherals, a half smirk plastered on her lips.

He looks much better now that his face is not swollen with alcohol. He will need to shave off that beard, though, Alixzandria considers.

She scans her surroundings again, appreciates the shimmering gold ambient light, the soft twinkle of a distant piano, the scents of foreign herbs and meats, the overall cleanliness that permeated every piece of the atmosphere around them in a way that she hadn’t noticed before.

She sighs wistfully.

“Why would you ever give it up?” She wonders out loud.

His face hardens and he looks away from her, taking in the sight again for himself. He places a tender hand upon her shoulder.

“There will come a day when you understand. It is not all it seems to be, kid,” He reminds her, just as he had done dozens of times.

Youth is evident in all her features; her skin is so supple, her eyes are wide with curiosity, her lips plump and parted with wonder. He remembers how she looked when she was younger. Two of her could have fit in her father’s ill-fitting armor, but still, she always held that same determined look on her face.

There is determination, yes, but as he looks deeper, in the depth of her dark eyes he sees the way her mind turns as she takes in all things around her, studying it deeply. She is intelligent and mature, and she will be able to understand what he means.

One day.

“I know, I know, but I haven’t learned yet, so what about him?” She asks as her eyes lock on to a particularly old man.

“Sir Richard is a viable candidate,” Sloan informs Alixzandria, “Though he doesn’t have very progressive opinions about female Knights.”

Alixzandria sucks in air between her teeth.

“That gets rid of him, then.”

She scans the crowd.

“Sir Wilford?” She asks.

Sloan searches for the familiar balding red hair and finds him in the top tier, down the right wing.

“Well, you’re going straight to the top, aren’t you?”

“Is it a possibility, or not?” Alixzandria asks, suddenly growing infuriated by the ridiculousness of the system again.

Why is it not enough that I am every bit as good of a soldier as the rest of them? What games are they trying to play when the safety of the Kingdom is at stake! Alixzandria considers silently.

Sloan nods. “Possible.”

She furrows her brow, considering something new.

“Why do Sir Richard and Sir Wilford not have a Blessed Knight at their service, if they’re so important to Grimcliff?”

Sloan’s face fell under the weight of his knowledge.

“They’re Knights are dead. They will soon contract more,” Was all he offers.

Alixzandria feels a twinge of that emotion Sloan will not stop cautioning her about. However, before Alixzandria could respond, the music stops playing and all heads turn to where the King sits - directly centered in the highest tier.

King Ulysses stands, walks graciously to the rail of the tier, peers down at his subjects and nods. With his approval, several robed figures step out of the shadows and into the light on the colosseum floor.

Alixzandria watches with bated breath.

The robed figures walk in a single line until reaching the center of the colosseum, spreading out until they are spread along the equator.

They reach for the pestle inside of the mortar they carry and vigorously crush the incorporated herbs into dust. This takes several minutes.

Once they are finished, they place the bowl onto the floor simultaneously, then reach inside of their robes to procure one long needle that glints under the lights of the crystal chandeliers. They wait.

More shadows emerge on the colosseum floor. They are pairs of men, one half of the pair dressed in immaculate armor, not a single dent or gash to be found. The other half of the pair is an elite member of Grimcliff Court, dressed in their finest vest and sash.

Upon reaching the robed figures, the Knight kneels and waits.

The robed acolyte turns to the elite men and extends an arm, waiting for the Court member to fulfil their part.

The men of the court offered their hands; the needle is used to prick the index finger of all of them.

A single drop of that prestigious blood finds its way into the mortar bowls filled with fragrant and colorful herbs. The mixture smokes like a wildfire, then a light emanates from the bowl like a true fire has been lit, so hot that it blazes a white-blue, but no flames arise.

At the sight of the reaction, the soldiers hold out their right arms, remove the glittering steel-plated gauntlet, adjust the undergarment underneath until the tepid, pink flesh of their wrists are exposed.

Their masters tilt the bowl; their movements are so careful to avoid touching this mixture. As the white-blue liquid lands on the knight’s flesh it sears. Many of them wince, a few groan, and one howls with pain. Sweat drenches their weakening bodies as they sag under the strain of the powerful magic.

Alixzandria looks away for a brief moment, imagining how it must feel to sign over one’s soul for the sake of their Kingdom.

Her eyes fall upon the top tier of elites and finds one boy directly next to the King, scribbling furiously within a leatherbound journal, his eyes enraptured by the events taking place on the colosseum floor.

Alixzandria squints her eyes, leaning closer to this boy as though she has seen his face before and is trying to place it.

A scribe, an advisor, or the Prince? she wonders.

He consumes all of her attention until his stunningly blue eyes flit to hers. She looks away, feeling a physical shock. She controls her breath, brushes her dress down as if it had become wrinkled, and turns her attention back to the knights who had finally stopped writhing in pain.

She watches each with envy as that familiar blue sigil illuminates their wrists, signalling that the ceremony is complete.

That is, until reaching the last knight. His sigil never turns blue. Instead, a strange black mark burns into his skin, and then like ink spilled on paper, it spreads up his arm and slowly begins overtaking the rest of his body.

“Is that normal?” She whispers to Sloan as murmuring erupts in the crowd.

Sloan leans forward, his upper body crossing the railing as he gets a closer look. He shakes his head.

“I’ve never seen that happen before.”

Alixzandria glances up towards the King to gauge his reaction.

The King stands quickly, eyes narrowing in recognition before he waves a hand to summon someone near him. He whispers to that man and sends him hurrying off.

Alixzandria squints to reveal some of their secrets and thinks she understood what he had said, but does not understand how “Send the Knights,” made any sense in this situation.

The crowd is now panicking and shouting loudly, pointing down at the knight, as if there is not a single person here that isn’t aware of what was happening.

The knight, now completely black, begins to transform into something horrendous. His height grows by at least a foot, though that is difficult to tell as he hunches over and pulverizes the stone beneath his feet.

There were protuberances along his appendages resembling the scutes that decorated reptiles. Alixzandria grows rigid with recognition.

This knight is no longer anything of the sort. He has somehow transformed into the exact thing that Alixzandria had just spent her last year vanquishing in the outskirts of Grimcliff.

The presence of it so near her brings goosebumps to her flesh and she snarls reflexively. Her instinctual call to duty pulls her toward the lich.

Overcome by an unlimited fury, it turns on one of the new Blessed Knights, who is too overcome with the fatigue from the ritual. The new Knight can do nothing more than hold out a wary arm against his attacker.

A robed assistant moves between the Knight and creature, throwing out a handful of dusted magic that plumes in a purple haze around the lich, but otherwise does nothing to deter him.

Alixzandria hesitated for a single moment to consider the consequences of her actions. Perhaps if she had time to pray on it, God would have given her a different answer, but she did not have that time. Instead, she listens to her instincts.

“So much for becoming a Blessed Knight,” She sighs.

“What?” Sloan asks, but his question falls upon thin air.

She leaps over the railing and falls five feet, landing with a gracious roll. The impact surely bruises her bony shoulder blade, but that is the consequence of doing battle without her armor.

She thinks briefly about the King’s reaction to her interference, and about Sloan’s reaction when she is surely to be beheaded, but still she disregards modesty and runs at the creature.

She is not fast enough to deter all casualties.

The lich digs its newly acquired talons into the abdomen of the robed assistant, tearing him in two, spilling organs and viscera along the perfectly polished floor. Both halves of the man fall.

She is upon the monster from behind him, which is no longer to her advantage as he has turned around to face her.

With no time left to improvise, and unfortunately no weapon with her, she turns towards the forbidden stone pillar and reaches for a beautiful antique mace; symmetrical emerald spikes decorate the several feet of thick spine.

She grabs the handle and prepares to attack but the weapon remains on its stand due to the immediate contact searing her palms like acid.

She lets go immediately, smelling the burn of her skin, the heat blisters forming and popping plasma across her palms and down her fingers.

“That’s probably why it is forbidden,” She whispers to no one.

The creature swipes its large claws at her.

She ducks and slides under him and away, her head-start granting just enough time to get to the second stone altar.

This one presents a long golden broadsword.

Alixzandria is good enough with pattern recognition to acknowledge that this weapon, too, will probably burn through the remaining flesh of her hands. However, the alternative is certain death by mauling.

The creature is upon her, reaching forward with both hands to seize the small maiden.

She spares a single second to check for reinforcements: the robed figures are working together to remove the useless new Knights and Master from the colosseum, and the Blessed Knights of the Grimcliff elite are still fighting their way through three tiers to make it to the bottom floor.

With no choice left, Alixzandria reaches for the sword handle and lifts. She hadn’t expected the sword to move, and her disbelief in it nearly crippled her.

When she finds that it does move, and that nothing in its handle is harmful, she jumps behind the stone pillar and is pushed back against the anterior wall. There is enough space between the creature’s swiping paws to grant her life, and where they should have scarred the delicate skin of her stomach, the sword deflects them with a show of sparks.

She twists the blade and brings it down diagonally, cleanly severing the left hand from the lich’s wrist while simultaneously taking wide steps to her left to escape being pinned by the monster.

It screams at her, a fierce, high sound of fury. Spit and phlegm carried along the wind in her direction, but she shields her skin with her arms, continuing forward towards it. She wants to avoid another swiping of its killer right hand; she slides to her knees and propels herself forward.

She is carried easily by the fabric of her gown against the floor. She unintentionally splashes through the puddle of the dead man’s insides, which dye the navy a darker ebony as she popped up behind the lich.

She knows from experience that liches are dimwitted, reflexive creatures. They will not predict an attack, but they will face one head-on with more ferocity than can be imagined. But now, from behind it, with one extra second than he had, she sticks her sword into its throat, which gurgles around the puncture, and seesaws the blade through cartilage and sinew until it easily comes out the other side.

She gives the monstrous form of the creature a slight nudge with the tip of her boot and two things happen: the barely adhered flesh of his neck severed completely so that his head was now level with his chest, and the monster itself slumped against the stone.

It was only at this time did the Blessed Knights of the Grimcliff Court break onto the colosseum floor, ready to fight the monster that had already been slain.

Standing there now, the adrenaline in her veins fading, an audience of Grimcliff elite watching her every move, Alixzandria felt self-conscious.

Her eyes slithered over to where Sloan watched. His eyes were bulging, disbelief written over his hunched body. He waved her over, signalling that they needed to leave right now.

Alixzandria blushed heavily, bowed quickly towards the Grimcliff Court, the only apology that she could offer. After taking care to return the sword to it’s hold perfectly so that it looked exactly as it had, with the addition of flesh and blood, she began to make her way off the floor.

Before she is free of the crowd, a booming voice commands her to still. She does and turns her head towards the sound. From the location of it, she assumes it is the King, and she wonders if his executioners would make a quick show of her death or not.

However, when her eyes find who spoke, it is the very same boy she had seen earlier. From the slender build of his jaw, similar eyes, and command of the situation, she deduces that he must be Prince Quinton.

“Madam, do not be too hasty, this is not the end of our festivities, here,” He calls to her.

She is frozen. Alixzandria dares not move a single muscle, and will obey the first command ordered to her as soon as it is. She silently begs for more direction from the boy.

He turns his head to the Blessed Knights on the colosseum floor around her with weapons drawn, awaiting their own commands from the King.

The Prince looks at them with disdain. He whispers to his father. The King shakes his head with disappointment at whatever the Prince asked of him, but ultimately allows it to come to fruition.

“Clean that up,” The King ordered, making a sweeping gesture at the two mutilated bodies decorating the floor.

“The festivities will continue. Now, it is time for the dance,” He orders and the band begins playing at once.

Alixzandria blinks quickly, trying to make sense of the events around her. The Prince wants her to stay and enjoy the festivities, but with each second she remains, the higher the chance that she will be beheaded for her interference in Court business grows.

The Prince walks down the steps, his eyes focused entirely on Alixzandria as he approaches her.

She raises her chin a notch with each step he takes, resolving to at least die with honor.

When he approaches, though, it is not certain death he offers, but his hand.

“I will heal your hands, please present them to me.” He crushes an aromatic herb between his fingers, rolls the oiled leaves into a ball, closes his eyes in concentration and then they glow a faint pink.

She offers her hands to the boy, but upon their extension they are both surprised.

“Already healed?” He asks as he takes in the unbroken skin. He smiles at her, “Another mystery solved.”

She looks back to the bloodied sword across the room.

“The sword did this?”

The pink light dies when the herb is crushed completely, then flicked away.

“Yes, my lineage has left us many arcane, magical gifts with no explanations as to what they are. All of the weapons in this room are forbidden to touch because of the danger they pose,” He offered.

The floor being polished reflects in the Prince’s eyes and when the job is done he makes his way to the center of the floor, indicating with a slight head nod that she should follow.

“Yes,” She ran after him, “When I grabbed the mace it burned like nothing you’ve ever experienced.”

“Oh yes I have,” He smiled. “The sword should have burned you, too. Instead though, it healed your wounds. If this is the magical mystery of the sword, I thank you for solving it for me.”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

He finally stops walking in the dead center of the room; she stuttered on her feet to stop an appropriate space away and bowed cordially.

“Dance with me,” Prince Quinton commands.

#medevial #slow burn #prince/knight #romance #Grimcliff Court

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