#but he's got very little wot work with and a LOT of problems to fix

[smallestapplin]

Arthur story revamp.

Sorry this is so much, and all over the place, I’d remember something, add it, then realize I was already so far in.

- 6’6ft(198cm) 337lbs, and early 50’s

- His team consists of a Herdier named Pepper. A Lampet named Lilac. A Excadrill named Roxie. A Ferrothorn named Buddy. A Haxorus named Hazel. And a Klinklang named Copper.

- He worked at gear station the moment he could to help his parents, as his family was not financially well off. But he did grow up in a very loving household.

- He’s a little awkward and stand-offish, not sure how to approach people, and his permanent frown didn’t help his case either. But his heart of gold shines through.

- He’s always ready and happy to help, gaining the reputation as the gear station dad, as you could go to him for anything and he’ll have your back.

- It’s where he met his now ex. The relationship started wonderfully, even to the point they got married and had twins.

- Ingo and Emmet are Arthur’s world, he was so ecstatic. But he was quick to notice all the hard stuff, and emotional labor was placed on him, as he had to balance two new babies, himself, and his spouse. It was easier to just move on, and he did.

- The boys stayed with him as his ex went traveling, but he doesn’t mind, he has his boys.

- It was a chore balancing the two, the trouble they would get into, but they were always right behind their dad.

- Or if Arthur needed a break, his parents would take them for the night, as the two boys loved spending time with their grandparents.

- Ingo mirrors his father a lot, while Emmet mirrors what people usually done see in Arthur.

- Arthur is a gentle man, and it showed in his parenting. Always working through problems, and apologizing when he’s wrong, it was trial and error, but he’s so proud at how his sons turned out. Was a firm believer in safety first, even to his rowdy children.

- Some older employees of gear station use to work along side Arthur, and sometimes joke to Ingo and Emmet about “telling your dad.” But it’s all in good fun.

- Arthur’s love languages are gift giving and acts of service, more so if he’s making a gift that takes hours. “If it makes you happy, I’ll gladly do this everyday.”

- Use to battle trainers in the day, but ever since he retired, so have his Pokémon.

- Has a love hate relationship with reality tv. On one hand, he loves watching cooking shows, or baking shows, on the other he will drag house hunting shows or renovation shows through the mud.

- He’s not as mean as he looks, he likes to tend to his garden and befriend the local wild Pokémon population. If he naps a in his rocking chair outside, he will wake up to deerling, Sawsbuck, sewaddles, and Leavanny around him, or on his lap.

- Makes dad jokes, I’m so sorry, but he loves seeing the despair on Emmet’s face, while Ingo tries not to laugh.

- He’s very kind, caring, compassionate, loving, maybe a little shy, but he warms up to others quickly, though he keeps to himself a lot, with friends or closer he gets playful, especially with rough housing. He’s a bit of a worry wot too, always fretting over the smallest scratch.

- It surprises no one that Arthur is demisexual, panromantic, he doesn’t have a preference, as long as it’s someone he has a connection with, and trusts.

- He had to baby proof some of his Pokémon, and Ferrothorn was NOT happy about the styrofoam balls that had to be placed on its spikes.

- Very active in their lives, Arthur adores his sons and made sure to teach them everything they needed to know. He definitely has several pictures up in his home, and in just two big albums, with plenty of home videos of the twins’s birthdays, big moments, and every Christmas.

- He retired from gear station when the twins were two years old, and keeps a steady income via battling trainers occasionally, or helping fix up cars.

- He comes from a not so well off family, that didn’t really have the means to do road-trips, big gifts, or family outings often, so he makes sure the twins have more than enough, and have weekly family outings.

- Even when his sons were going through different phases, there was never a rebellious stage, as they both knew Arthur would never tell them off for expressing themselves.

- Even during Ingo’s goth phase, when he snuck out of the house with some friends and got slightly drunk at a house party, he called Arthur, explained everything and how scared he was. Arthur was putting on his slippers and instantly going to get his son. He believes in safety first.

- The old man has no idea what anime or manga is, but you can bet he was in a Barnes and Nobles with Emmet, letting him pick out which mangas he wanted. And you can also bet Arthur would sit down and watch the anime with Emmet, even if he wasn’t fully into it.

- All he knows is that his sons are excited about it, and that’s all he cares about, so he is going to be invested.

- Definitely let goth Ingo paint his nails black, and you can bet he rocked it.

- Also rocked the anime merch with Emmet.

- Family game night is both loved and welcomed, and violently hated, but it depends on what games are being played, uno or monopoly? Someone is raging and this family is falling apart, DDR or just dance? The house is gonna be filled with playful roasting and cackling.

- Though one game they all play in present time is multiplayer stardew valley, as they can play it from their separate homes, and is still a tradition to play after work.

- Sometimes every now and then, Arthur will drop by the station to give his sons some lunch, and to catch up a bit during their break.

- This man is also a sap, and still has all the gifts he’s every gotten for every one of his birthdays, fathers days, and Christmases. From every sloppily made gifts Ingo and Emmet made when they were 4, to the newly bought train model the twins got him in their twenties.

- He’s very sentimental, he doesn’t care for price, as long as there was thought and meaning behind to.

- He likes to fix up cars, yes, but he also very much likes to garden, sew, and cook. He LOVES cooking for people.

- His Pokémon are pampered and spoiled, each having their own custom pet ID tags, bandanas, bows, everything.

- He’s a very clam person, preferring quiet areas as opposed to busy restaurants. He spent so many years working in the subway, where it was always loud, so it’s a nice change….though he misses it sometimes.

- Much like Ingo, he speaks loudly, years of working at gear station have made it impossible for him to NOT be loud.

- His Herdier was left with one command, and that was keep the twins safe. So when Ingo and Emmet were little, and walking around exploring, Herdier right by their sides. Even when they come home to visit, Pepper comes right next to them.

- as a thank you for reading, have some omegaverse Arthur headcanons -

- Arthur is an Alpha, an double chugs respect omega juice.

- His scent is one of sandalwood, but when silently glaring at someone, it gets a kick of cinnamon, giving his scent a sharp, heated kick to it.

- His rut scent gets a stronger smell, of heated coffee, or cedarwood.

[theangrycomet]

Do the Saturdays ever find Amber?

Yes, ironically enough through trying to help the Plumbers catch Bishop after he broke out Albedo, though the Saturday’s wanted him because he’d stolen Zon’s missing eggs from the original thief. 

[harrysgloves]

Trouble (chapter 4)

>>>Catch up with master list here!<<<

word count: 1.9k

story summary: You’re nothing but trouble and Harry can’t help the fact that he wants a taste.

warnings: Language // Mentions of past smut // Harry is a cute little jealous jelly bean

chapter summary: A piece of your past comes back.

a/n: Lots of supporting characters in this one which is pretty great writing them. I’m in love with them all and very protective of them at this point.

>>><<<

Harry should have known you'd be there with your back pressed tightly against a tree. One hand laying on some frat boy's chest as he chatted you up outside on the quad.

He rolled his eyes, his dark sunglasses shading him from the sun and everyone knowing he was staring at you talking up some asshole.

He couldn't help it. Ever since you two hooked up, you had avoided him like the plague. Every time he stepped into the living room and you were there, you'd find some reason to run to your room.

Even at parties when he'd usually go out for a cigarette with you, you'd quickly put yours out and go back inside.

He had no idea what the hell he'd done to get you to fully stop talking to him. Sure, you guys weren't best friends by any means but you were always friendly. At least said hi to him when he walked in the front door. Now you were avoiding him and it was driving him crazy.

"You fucked her and you still can't stop staring?" Lex asked with a laugh, pulling Harry away from his thoughts of you and back to your guys' group of friends.

"You got it bad, man." Finn said with a smile, taking a hit from his cigarette before Rose walked up to the group with Elena following shortly behind her.

"Who's got what bad? Do I need to get tested?" Rose asked, plopping down on the sun-warmed grass, taking Finn's cigarette from him to take a hit before giving it back.

"Ew, stop fucking doing that." He complained, handing the cigarette back to her. A proud smile on her face as she got it back, knowing it worked every single time.

"Seriously, what are we talking about?" She asked as she let out a puff of smoke.

"Nothin'." Harry mumbled out as he stretched out on the grass. His long legs crossed in front of him as he rested on his elbows.

"We're talking about how the British twat has a hard-on for Y/N still." Link said as Addie rolled her eyes, laying her head in his lap when she laid down on the grass. His fingers running absentmindedly through her dark hair.

"You guys hooked up?" Elena asked, her head snapping towards Harry.

A short nod of his head was all it took for her face to fall. Staring off into the distance, glaring at you still flirting your ass off with some jock.

"Oh, they didn't just hook up," Finn said, glowing from the fact he had managed to weasel out all the dirty little deals of yours and Harry's night together. "They had crazy sex. I mean, shit, the details were enough to get me going."

"What the fuck, Finn? You're so gross." Addie complained as she kicked her brother in the arm with her outstretched leg. His annoying laughter being cut off when you finally made your way to the group, sitting down on the grass in the free spot beside Harry.

Not at all missing the glare you were receiving from Elena and the rest of them looking at you with those annoying shit-eating grins.

"What was that about?" Lex asked as you handed him a flyer. Everyone in the group who was sitting up inching their way towards Lex to read the piece of paper.

"Omega Chi is having a glow party this weekend!" You said excitedly as everyone ohh and awed at the news.

"Fuck yes." Finn cheered as he ripped the paper out of Lex's hands.

"Wot's a glow party?" Harry asked, sitting up, his arm slightly brushing yours as he reached for the flyer in Finn's hand.

The sparks erupting in you even from the slightest touch from him. Making you bite your lip. Really, it was so stupid. You had no idea why the hell you were this attracted to him.

"It's a black light party where you paint neon paint on each other." You said with a smile as he finally handed you back the paper you had been given.

You really had been trying your absolute hardest to keep him off your mind but with this party coming up, you couldn't help but wonder if that meant he'd be touching you again. Even something as simple as painting on you had your thighs clenching.

The sound of your name broke off the rest of the conversation. Your head swiveling around to see who was calling out for you.

You squealed, eyes wide, as you scrambled from your spot on the ground toward the person yelling and waving to you like a maniac. You ran full force, arms thrown around him as he spun you around in a hug.

Everyone in the group looked towards Harry, whose face had fallen slightly at your departure. A sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that he didn't even want to admit was there. He hated feeling like this for no reason.

You two had hardly even talked since that night. He really needed to put it out of his mind.

"Fuck, that hurts." Finn said, handing Harry his cigarette. Not even bitching about the fact someone else was stealing another cigarette from him.

"Nah," Harry lied as he took a hit from the cigarette before handing it back. "We're not together or anything. She doesn't do serious shit. Made it pretty well known too."

"We'll see about that." Rose hummed out, her eyes moving back towards you but Harry's stayed fixed on her. What the hell was she talking about?

His thoughts were quickly interrupted from wandering off too far when you pulled your new friend over to the group. His arm around your shoulder as he walked with you.

"Guys, this is Austin. He just transferred here from my hometown community college." You said with that bright smile on your face as you looked at him.

Harry hated to see you looking at anyone like that. Anyone besides him. Which was stupid because he was pretty sure you'd never look at him like that.

He hated the feeling, jealousy, that was burning up his esophagus from the pit of his stomach. He swallowed thickly, reminding himself that everything with you would have to be strictly physical.

"Yeah, we used to have a lot of fun back in the day." Your new buddy said, pulling you closer into him, making Harry thankfully he had sunglasses on to hide his eye roll. Fucking prick just had to rub it in.

"She was a great cheer captain. Even got us to nationals last year. Too bad we all got wasted the night before, right?" He asked with a laugh as you swatted his chest.

"Shut up, they don't know about the cheering." You grumbled, feeling your face heat as everyone looked at you.

"What?" Rose asked, perking up at the news that someone may possibly know you better than her.

"Yeah, I used to cheer."

"Hot damn. Go get your outfi-" Finn started but was quickly cut off by Addie kicking him on the shoulder… again.

"Yeah, this is why I didn't say anything." You said rolling your eyes but not missing the playful smirk forming across Harry's lips. Feeling your cheeks heating as you felt his eyes burn into you.

"Well, we were pretty great. I'll have to show you guys the videos. You know, from when we weren't hungover." Austin said with a smile, ruffling your hair with his hand before pulling away from you.

"Okay, gotta get my stuff together and into my new apartment. Just wanted to check out the campus." He said, making you pout up to him.

He had been one of your closest friends before you had met Rose. Of course, he was also a guy on a cheer squad in a small town, the guy could have used all the friends he could get his hands on back then. You were sure in a bigger more open-minded place he would really flourish.

"Oh my God!" You squealed, eyes widening when you caught a glimpse of another man walking towards you two. Throwing a slap on the now laughing Austin's shoulder.

"You didn't tell me you brought him!" You yelled as you ran past him, hugging yet another guy.

"Jesus, how many people does she fuck?" Elena scoffed.

Harry's head whipping around to her so fast you could hear his neck crack as he glared at her through his glasses.

"Damn, someone's bitter today." Finn commented as everyone else stared at the now slightly blushing Elena.

"What the fuck?" Rose asked quietly to her as you walked back up to the group.

"Guys, this is Akiro." You said as you pulled the other guy up to the group. "This is Austin's boyfriend."

Harry had never heard sweeter words in his whole life. Letting go of a breath he didn't even know he was holding in, making Finn laugh silently from beside him.

"They're high school sweethearts. Wish we didn't grow up in a shit town. You guys could have been Homecoming king and king." You gushed, pushing them together.

"Yeah, the gay linebacker and the gay cheerleader. A romance novel in the making." Akiro joked, his arm going around Austin's shoulder.

"Well, we got to get going. It was good seeing you again, babydoll. We'll catch up before this one leaves town. He's just here helping me unpack." You nodded your head, hugging them both before they turned to leave.

"Damn, they make a hot couple." Rose said, Addie agreeing with her as you sat down back in your spot.

"Yeah, they were adorable in high school. The only problem was they were the only out couple so they got a lot of shit." You sighed, leaning back to rest on your elbows.

Your eyes closing as you soaked up the sun. Only opening them slightly when Harry mimicked your position.

"Still got that cheer outfit?" He whispered in your ear as the group carried on another conversation.

Your cheeks immediately heating when you turned to look at him. The smug smile on his face and playfulness dancing in his now uncovered eyes.

"Maybe I do. Maybe I don't." You said, smiling at his eye roll.

"Maybe I'll find out. Yeh?"

"Possibly. What's in it for me?" You asked, genuinely interested know what you'd get if you pulled that old thing out of your closet.

Well, what you'd get minus a mind-blowing orgasm.

"I'll pretend y'haven't been avoidin' me all week. Blushin' every time y'walk out 'f the room 'M in." He smiled, that annoying dimple popping out as your eyes widened.

"Whatever. I do not." You lied, trying your best to ignore your cheeks heating yet again at the fact he noticed you being so weird with him.

You just couldn't help it. You were so into him with knowing so little about him. You were afraid if you got to know him better you'd catch feelings.

"Sure, y'don't, love. Careful, someone might think y'got a crush on me or sumthin'." He said smiling widely as he laid back flatly on the ground. Your eyes widened as you looked at him so content with himself.

Did you have a crush on him? You didn't think so but at the same time, you couldn't deny the fact you were drawn to him like a magnet, couldn't get your mind off how he touched you. How you wanted him to touch you again.

You swallowed the thought down. Knowing you were playing with fire. You didn't do relationships for a reason. You didn't do getting close to people for a reason and you'd be damned is some pretty boy with nice eyes and a great smile made you forget what it felt like to be the one with your heart ripped out and torn into pieces.

[keith-the-hoe]

The Glimmer Hoes Master Plan| Crack Fanfic Mini Series

Episode One: [X]

Episode Two: [X]

Episode Three: [X]

Episode Four: I'm Flyin'

Episode Five: [X]

Warnings:

This may contain weird questionable subjects, no no words and sex scenes. It may cause you to lose a couple of brain cells and fall into a state of confusion. Do not read if you are under the age of 16. Read at your own risk.

Cast:

Keith Richards

Ronnie Wood

Bill Wyman

Charlie Watts

Rod Stewart

-------------------

It was around midnight when the huge slaughtering went down around the small motel in CaliFOnia. The Rolling Stones were on the search for a hospital since Ronnie is a dumbass and got attacked by a Mick robot. Keith has been on his side the entire trip. He was quite upset about everything that happened since they went on vaca. His whore side hoe got killed, his Cyborg Mick didn't work out well, and now his best friend is now slowly dying.

"Don't worry buddy, you will be fine, I swear," Keith said calmly.

Ronnie didn't seem to be having a problem with anything. He was just there looking at Keef, smiling.

"Well.... this has been a helluva ride! You Rolling Stones whores are something!" He added.

Bill just rolled his eyes and looked out the window. Charlie was still trying to figure out why he's in a band full of dumbasses. Keith looked away for a second and later realized that Ronnie wasn't there anymore. He panicked.

"G-guys!! Ron disappeared!" Keith yelled. Bill and Charlie looked back at him. They were confused. Charlie sighed in relief. No more dumbasses.

"Where in bloody hell did he go, you monkey!?" Bill yelled. Keith searched the whole van and did not find him anywhere. Charlie looked out the windshield and spotted Ronnie on top of a roof of a strip club.

"Bill! BILL!" He pulled on his hair to get his attention. "That big nose whore is on top of that roof!" He said as he pointed up at him. Keith pressed his monkey face on the glass and spotted him.

"RON! How in the actual fuck did ya get up there!?" Keith asked as the van pulled up to the parking lot of the strip club. He kicked the door open and ran up to the building.

"Oh hiya there Keith! Beautiful view up here! I can see every single building from here!" Ronnie said with a chuckle. Keith extended his arms in case he decides to jump off.

"Ron! Get down from there! You're going to fall!" Keith said sounding very worried. Ronnie just laughed.

"Nah! Mate! I won't fall! I've done this many times with my mate, Rod!" He said. Keith was utterly confused. Bill and Charlie walked up to Keith to tell him that they should get going. Keith refused to leave Ronnie behind so he climbed onto the roof. He then realized that he is afraid of heights. He slowly walked up to Ronnie.

"Alright mate, just walk over to me and lets get down safely, okay?" He said calmly. Ronnie just smiled widely at him. He did a T-pose and fell forwards. Keith panicked and ran to the edge of the building. He didn't see him anywhere.

"Charlie! Where did he go!?" He said in a very shaky voice. Charlie pointed up to the sky. "You dumbass! Why would you even consider that huh!?" He yelled. Charlie shook his head in disappointment.

"You Muppet! That is not wot I meant! He's up in the sky flying!" Charlie yelled in response. Keith looked up to the sky. There he was, flying around like a chicken. He was so confused. He the heard music coming from a building that was across from the strip club. A blonde big nose whore was standing on there singing some song that said something among the lines of "I'm flying."

"Wot the fuck?....." Keith said to himself. Bill and Charlie seemed to be entertained by the music. Bill looked up at Keith, who was still on top of the roof.

"Hey matey! Get your monkey ass down from there and come look at this spectacular show!" He yelled. Keith was hella annoyed by everything. He got down from the building and headed to the van. Ronnie was preparing for landing but a pamper flew into his face and caused him to fly into the dumbass bitch, Rod. It caused a huge explosion. Bill and Charlie hugged each other in fear. They slowly looked at each other and pulled away. That was awkward. Keith was once again hella upset.

"Let's get the fuck out of here...." He said as he hopped in the van. The Rolling Stones were once again on the run. Keith could not believe that he'd just lost his two best friends. Ron was like a corn dog to him.

"Where are we headed?" Bill asked Charlie. He just sat there thinking if they could possibly go back home because he just wants to go home. The only problem was that they didn't have money to book a flight to go back to Britain. They were stuck in the states for a while. Keith reached into his underwear and pulled out a picture of his whore best friend, Mick. He seriously wished he was by his side, even if it was for just a little bit. A tear ran down his monkey face and quickly wiped it away. Bill and Charlie saw someone crossing the street.

"Jesus CHARLIE STEP ON THE BLOODY BREAKS!" Bill yelled.

Charlie did what he was told. The van did a loud skkkrt sound. Keith flew into the seat. Dumbass didn't wear his seatbelt. Charlie and Bill sat there completely startled. There stood a man who was average height with longish hair and blue eyes. Keith took a glance at him. He could not believe his eyes.

"M-Mick?" He said softly.

The figure walked closer to the van. His skin was pale and was covered in dry blood. His clothes were worn out and dirty.

"Sweet mother of-" Charlie added.

Keith quickly exited the van and ran up to him. Mick took out a blade and pointed it at Keef. He stood there in fear of him getting stabbed by his zombie friend.

"M-Mick," he began, "Its me, you're buddy. We've known each other since we were dumb fucks."

Mick slowly turned his head to look a Keef. His eye color was faded to a light blue shade. He stared at him for a while until he put away his blade. He was shocked to once again see his monkey friend after he had gotten killed by Mick Taylor.

"Its okay buddy, I ain't going to hurt ya..... Just want to be with you again...." Keith explained.

Mick stood there in silence.

"Jesus wot is this!? Some kind of weird romantic zombie movie!? Oh fuck that matey! I ain't here for that! I just want my damn band back!" Mick said.

Keith chuckled and pulled Mick in for a tight hug. Surprisingly, Mick hugged him back.

"Jesus Mick! Where the hell were you!? How did you find us!? I thought I lost you forever!" He rambled.

"Well, Monkey, after you had left me there at the dumpster, I woke up and followed the tracks from the van." Mick explained. "It was a helluva ride!"

Keith was glad that his bestie was back. He couldn't stop smiling like an idiot. Bill and Charlie just sat there in the van face palming their faces.

"Well.... We're back to square one....." Bill said to Charlie.

Charlie just wants to go home.

"I am hella glad you're alive! Heck I even tried to replace you with a cyborg version of you!" Keith said as he fixed his pants.

"You did wot now?..." He asked.

"Doesn't matter! You're here now! Meaning we can go back to being friends and being in our band!" Keith added.

Mick just smiled in response. They both hoped into the van. Bill and Charlie shook their heads in disappointment. They threw Mick in the dumpster for a reason and somehow he managed to find them. They really thought they did something. Lol. Mick and Keef kept going on about plans they had for their road trip. Mick really wanted to go to January so Keith yelled into Bill's ear to drive them to McDonald's because he really wanted some lettuce from there. All Mick wanted was eat brains but he resisted. Bill rolled his eyes and began to drive. Mick sucked Keef's penis to pass the time. Charlie shoved them out of the van because he seriously did not want to see dumb fucks sucking each other's dicks.

The Rolling Stones made it to a fairly large city that was located in Wendy's bathroom. Mick and Keef kept making out in the back of the van.

"We should totes do that....." Bill said to Charlie with a small chuckle. Charlie just sighed deeply.

"I just want to go home.... Is that too much to ask for? We've been all over the place and it's been exhausting for me." Charlie explained. Bill just sighed. He patted his shoulder and looked at him dead in the eye.

"Don't you worry about a thing, we'll go home soon." He said in a soft voice. Charlie just looked into his dark eyes. He began to feel warm. Mick chocked on Keef's dick and was trying to figure out how the fuck that happened because his monkey penis isn't the biggest here. He then saw Bill and Charlie kissing each other.

"Oh shit matey!" Mick yelled which resulted in him getting a shoe thrown at him.

Keef got lost and has no idea what just happened. The Rolling Stones stopped by a motel that has been vandalized by Led Zeppelin.

"Oh no.... those damn crusty ass bastards are here...." Charlie added. Bill spotted one of the members who was pissing in the pool. He was truly concerned about them.

"Wotever you lads do.... do not get near Led Zeppelin, those bastards do witch craft and eat goats hearts." Bill explained.

"Oh shut it you! We literally eat goats head soups!" Keef yelled. Bill was hella confused. When did they do that? They checked out rooms that had two singles. Mick and Keef are going to share beds while Bill and Charlie sleep on the other bed. This was going to be a sexy night. Sorry, Rod Stewart is holding me hostage as I write this whole fanfic. The Glimmer Hoes removed their clothes and laid in bed. Keef fell asleep pretty quick. Charlie and Bill stared at the ceiling and fell asleep. Mick didn't need sleep at all. So he went out to the porch and saw two led zeppelin members fucking each other in the pool. He's got some inspo there! There was another band staying in the motel. Mick absolutely hated them with a burning passion.

"Oh those bloody Beatles! we're constantly getting compared to one another!" Mick said angrily. He came up with a very beautiful idea. He reached in his trousers and took out his blade. "Let's Dance! Put on your red shoes and dance the Blues!" Oh Mick loves Bowie so much. He walked up to The Beatles and began to slice their head open to eat their brains. He let one go but was killed by a Led Zeppelin member. There was no point in doing that honestly. Mick went back to the room. He was still hungry and needed more brains to devour. He stood there in the doorway looking at his buddies. He slowly walked in and shut the door behind him.

[ladyoutlier]

Here Today Gone Tomorrow

In which God drunkenly restarts the universe and Aziraphale and Crowley find themselves in the role of Adam and Eve. 

[Read on AO3] |  [Read My Other Fics]

Chapter 1: Take it from the Top

God really thought Armageddon would do it. She really thought that after 6000 years of buildup, surviving the End of the World would’ve pushed her OTP into pure, raw romance. But that’s not what happened. Sure, they were closer now than ever. They fully embraced being on their own side. They awaited a future together. Them against the world. But they still hadn’t so much as hugged not to mention something as simple as saying I love you. The world had almost been destroyed, and they still weren’t together together!

They were still playing their little dance that they had been since literally the beginning of time, and God was quite done with being subtle. She was going to do something about it, but first, she was going to get mad drunk. 

Now, a drunk God is a really, really scary thing. Absolutely anything can happen. Suddenly, gravity works in a completely different way. The less mass an object has, the greater its gravitational pull. Or maybe a new species gets invented. That is how the platypus came into existence after all. Alcohol and God is simply not the most calming of combos. And this time… oh it was something to be very scared of, indeed.

God had drank roughly an ocean full of liquor when She decided on a plan. “Fuck it!” She cried, stumbling over a pile of creation dust. “If they won’t just get to—together on their own. I. Me, I’ll just do what I did with the hu—hum… monkey people. Garden all to themselves. Only them. Take it from the top!”

And with that, God pulled the great big lever that reset the entire universe.

*

Aziraphale woke in a garden absolutely and completely naked. The name Adam, circled in his head as if he was for some reason now meant to be called that. Poppycock, he thought. That name isn’t fitting at all.

This was quite the bizarre scenario. He was sure he had been in his bookshop the night before. He and Crowley had shared quite a few drinks celebrating the averted Apocalypse. Now, he was quite definitely not there. To add to the strangeness of the whole thing, he had never slept before in his life, and yet, he had most definitely awoken here. In Eden.

Eden? Why did he want to call this Eden? And why did he think the name Adam belonged to himself? This couldn’t be Eden. It hadn’t existed for thousands of years! He sat up, blades of grass tickling his naked skin as he moved. This wouldn’t do at all. He snapped his fingers, and his familiar outfit returned to him.

This was Eden; he was sure of it. The plant life. The looming surrounding wall. He was in Eden and suppose to be Adam. How ridiculous! This must be a dream. He had never slept before, but he must have now. Only that could explain this absolute absurdity. A faint breathing took his attention back down to the ground beside him.

Oh. Oh, he most definitely was dreaming. On the ground beside him, nearly touching him, was Crowley who was sporting his birthday suit just as much as Aziraphale had moments ago. He was Adam, and Crowley was… Eve. He was supposed to be Eve. Oh, this had to be a dream.

Before the angel could think another thought, the demon stirred awake. He blinked his eyes several times in a confused manner before he spoke. “Ad—Aziraphale, why in the name of Satan is the name Eve floating about my head? And why did I almost call you Adam?” He took the same wild look around that Aziraphale had moments ago. “And why are we in bloody Eden?”

“So, you’re just as confused as I am, and this isn’t a dream?”

“I’d think not. Unless we’re both having the same one.” 

Aziraphale stared at him. As peculiar as the situation had found itself, it hardly worked as a distraction from Crowley’s current, ahem, lack of clothing.

“Wot?” The demon glanced down to himself. “Oh for the love of—” He snapped his fingers in a rather hasty, upward movement, and his signature style returned to him. He looked back to Aziraphale with a rather exasperated expression. “As if it’s not something you’ve seen before.”

“Oh, yes. Quite right. Bigger things to attend to. Or not bigger. Poor word choice. More important, yes. Like what’s going on.” The angel quickly stood and brushed himself off before charging into the wilderness in front of them.

“Right…” Crowley drawled on, still baffled by, well, everything. He took a moment to raise an eyebrow to Aziraphale’s words before tailing him into the wild.

Somewhere on an ethereal plane, God, in a drunken slur, cursed. She hadn’t really been listening to anything that was said. If She had, maybe She would’ve controlled Her rage a bit more. As it was, all She was able to register was that they both had put their clothes back on much too quickly.

Aziraphale and Crowley walked in silence for a few minutes, pushing past leaves and branches as they delved deeper into Eden. Every detail down to the pebbles half-buried in the dirt was completely accurate to the Eden the two of them remembered from 6 millennia earlier. But why it existed now and why they were here was a complete and utter mystery.

“So do you have a plan or are we just taking a nice stroll through Eden for the scenery?” Crowley asked, swatting the branch of a fruit tree out of the way.

“Ah, well, no. I figured exploring our surroundings would be more effective than just sitting in the same spot completely baffled. As for a specific plan, I haven’t got one.”

“Think it’s some trick? Some dastardly plan from Above and Below given their inability to kill us?”

“I don’t know how they would manage a thing like this. Something as large scale as this could only be accomplished...”

“By the Almighty.”

“Indeed.”

That was a horrifying realization. The Almighty hadn’t directly interfered with the world since Noah built his ark or since Jesus lived. To even consider that God had altered the world so much, especially with the knowledge that the End of the World was supposed to be the day before… it invoked shivers.

Crowley rather fumbled with his words as his mind raced on laps ahead of his mouth. A series of fragmented sentences was all he was able to verbalize. “But God can’t have—I mean why would She—what purpose would it—and us as Adam and Eve. Why?”

“I don’t know. Um, careful with the questions, Crowley. You know where they lead.”

“What? Going to Fall again, am I?”

“No, I mean that you’re supposed to be Eve. Eve hasn’t taken from the Tree of Knowledge yet.”

“What the Hell are you on about? Is another me going to show up? Hardly need that. I’m a bigger sinner than Eve could ever dream of being. Don’t need some pathetic fruit to prove that. And—” He waved his arms about wildly. “With that logic, we should both be walking around with a lot more bare skin exposed. Adam and Eve were hardly all that modest before eating the apple. Rather not do that though. Mosquitoes are more Hell incarnate than demons are. I’d say we’re in the post-apple stage if anything.”

Aziraphale absorbed Crowley’s words. A rather frustrated wrinkle appeared on his brow. “I must say, none of this really makes any sense.”

“You think?!?” the demon huffed, stomping in a quick circle. “We save the world one day and wake up the next to find it reverted back to day one. Gabriel really was an idiot for his God doesn’t play games with the universe remark. Complete knob head.”

“Where do you think he is?”

“Dunno. Up in Heaven I presume. Why should I care?”

“If we’ve found ourselves in a new role… perhaps the rest of the universe has as well.”

“That sure would make an even bigger mess of things, but it’s not like they deserve it any less than we do.”

“Deserve would imply that we did something wrong. That the Almighty is punishing us. If that’s the case, I have no clue what for.”

“Yeah, crazy to think God would punish us and not explain what for. Completely out of character that. She probably just got piss faced.” Crowley took a few steps back and faced the sky. “She can bloody well just put it all back now!”

“Crowley! You can’t just yell things like that!”

“Why the blasted Hell not? Earth was the only thing we had going for us, and now it’s gone swirling down the porcelain throne.”

“The Almighty seems to be paying more attention now than ever. You might have been able to get away with such blasphemy before, but now She might be a bit more, um, testy.”

“If She wanted me to be all holier than thou, then She shouldn’t have left me a demon when She reset the world.” He grabbed Aziraphale’s shoulder. “You should be pissed too. She took everything away. Everything. Remember that little talk we had before we decided to avert the Apocalypse? All those human luxuries that were worth saving? All that’s gone. No more fine wine, sushi dinners, cars. Your books are gone, Aziraphale. All of ‘em. Just like that.”

“They—they’re just physical things. Nothing I can’t live without.” Despite his words, the angel’s expression said otherwise.

“How can you say that? This isn’t some minor inconvenience like if a waiter brought you the wrong dish. Everything’s screwed.”

“We still have each other.”

And that was a comment that Crowley couldn’t argue with. He released Aziraphale and scratched the back of his head. “Yeah. Yeah guess so. That’s something. More than something.”

“We’ll figure out what’s going on. Fix it if we can.”

“And if we can’t.”

“Learn to live with it. What else could we do?”

“Challenge God?”

“That sounds like a good way to turn a bad scenario into a worse one.”

Crowley shrugged in mild agreement. “Hasn’t worked out well for me in the past.”

“I guess the next step would be to find somebody, so we can properly determine the extent of the problem.”

As if God Herself heard that (She didn’t. She was too busy fighting the cork off a bottle of wine to be bothered by Her failure of an OTP.), someone showed up.

“Eve. Oh, Eve. Aren’t you getting hungry?” a rather familiar ribity voice asked.

Crowley about choked on absolutely nothing upon hearing that. He and Aziraphale turned to the source of the voice. Pitch black eyes of a rather enormous frog stared back at them from a rather prickly bush. Although this particular demon wasn’t known for this particular form, Crowley recognized him nonetheless.

“No!” Crowley whined. “They didn’t get you to do my job, did they? Ugh, a real classless act. No style.”

The frog that was Hastur, Duke of Hell, leapt out from the bush and transformed back into his more humanly appearance, wearing a night dark robe. “It’s your own fault, Crowley. You betrayed us. Of course you lost your job.”

“Yeah, but you? Literally any other demon would’ve been a better fit.”

That seemed to hit exactly the nerve Crowley intended. Hastur narrowed his eyes. “You’re lucky I’m only supposed to get you to eat the apple. Otherwise, humanity might’ve not had a future this time around.”

“Wait. So many questions. You’re just fine with this strange world reset thingy? And what’re you on about with that humanity’s future bit.”

“Ha. Like I’m telling you anything, traitor.”

“Sorry to intrude on this reunion,” Aziraphale, who had been watching silently, now spoke up. “But I must insist, whoever you are, that you tell us what you know.”

Hastur turned his attention to the angel. The frog on his head caught a fly from the air. “I don’t take orders from those Upstairs. You’ll have to go to one of your own for answers. Although, I heard they’re more of Hell than Heaven nowadays.”

“Explain yourself!”

A sly smile grew from Hastur’s lips. “You haven’t heard? Archangel Gabriel has found himself, ah, demoted. His position has been taken over by Lord Beelzebub.”

Crowley burst into a fit of laughter. He heavily leaned on a tree for support. “Even though that’s obviously a bald-faced lie, it’s absolutely hilarious.”

“Don’t believe me? Why don’t you ask him yourself? Heard his new job was guarding the Eastern Gate.” Hastur gave a quick smug glance to Aziraphale before looking back to Crowley. “And do eat the apple before you go. It is part of your job as much as it is mine.”

Crowley plucked an apple from the tree. “Angel, let’s go meet the new you then.”

“Yes,” Aziraphale replied, still eyeing Hastur rather warily. “Perhaps he will be more willing to provide answers.”

Two pairs of wings, one black and one white, entered this earthly plane and appeared on their respective angel’s and demon’s backs. With a forceful take off, Aziraphale and Crowley took flight to the east, leaving the Duke of Hell behind on the ground below. Crowley tossed the apple in his hand a few times before chucking it at the shrinking form of Hastur.

“You might’ve got my job,” he called down. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll help you do it!”

God snorted off wherever She was. Either She had finally drank enough to become slap happy, or She had forgotten how funny of a stubborn bastard She had made Crowley. Honestly, it was likely a bit of both.

*

Crowley forgot how clean the air was in the beginning. The sky of Eden felt a whole lot healthier than the 6000 year old one of yesterday. Of course, it hardly mattered as the demon didn’t do much flying back in modern day. It just wasn’t worth the miracle it would take to alter people’s memory after a nice flight.

“Crowley, who was that? One of your old coworkers obviously, but which one in particular?”

“Hastur, Duke of Hell. Although guess he’d have my old name if we’ve got Adam and Eve’s. Crawly. Ugh, can’t believe I went by that as long as I did.”

“For confusion’s sake, let’s just address everyone by their proper names. I prefer to think of the new names as a bestowment of a role rather than a replacement identity. I rather like being me.”

“Works for me. Don’t think I could call anyone else Aziraphale beside you anyways.”

As the Eastern Gate neared, it became obvious that there was indeed someone guarding it. A winged figure grew into view, but this individual didn’t have just two wings as Aziraphale and Crowley did. No, this person had six, three layered on each side. Only a few specific angels had wings like this, and all of them were Archangels.

“Do you suppose that Hastur fellow was being honest?” Aziraphale asked in response to seeing the Archangel’s form.

“It’d be a first for him,” was the extent of Crowley’s reply.

They landed on the Wall. A wave of uncomfortable deja vu flooded through Aziraphale. This was all like a memory but one that was corrupted by a nightmare. There indeed was a Guardian of the Eastern Gate, and it most certainly wasn’t him but rather Archangel Gabriel just as Hastur had said. The Archangel even sported the same robe that Aziraphale had worn all those years ago. However, unlike Aziraphale, Gabriel still wielded his flaming sword.

“Gabriel,” Aziraphale called rather hesitantly. He was hardly comfortable around the Archangel considering he had sentenced him to death just the day before. “Would you mind explaining what’s going on?”

Gabriel turned to face them with his infamous false-happy grin plastered to his face. He looked less than surprised to see them.  “Uh, obviously the Almighty was upset that The End of the World didn’t go off as intended, so She reset the whole universe to make it happen this time. And we all got new jobs because of our failure to perform, duh.” He shook his head as if Aziraphale was the most stupid being he’s ever come across.

“That—that’s hardly a logical deduction!” 

“Do you think this happening after you and your demon pal’s mess up is just a coincidence? This is a direct result of your actions, Aziraphale. Although I guess that name is mine now.” Gabriel’s smile turned rather bitter.

“Yeah, he’ll be keeping his name.” Crowley took a step between the two angels. “And if God really got all pissy that the end times didn’t kick off, She could’ve jump started them Herself. Would’ve cost roughly the same amount of energy as doing this!”

“Back off, demon,” Gabriel replied, pointing his sword towards Crowley. “Sure, holy water left you unscarred, but I doubt this will.”

God abandoned the bottle of wine She had been nursing and instead summoned a bag of freshly popped popcorn. Now, this was entertainment: the demon acting as a shield between his love and Gabriel. Maybe this plan was working out.

“There’s no need for violence!” Aziraphale cried, pulling Crowley back to his side. “I think we can all agree that we’re quite unhappy with our given arrangement and would like things to return to normal. Can we not agree to that?”

“Yes. I think we can all agree to that.” Hastur’s voice caused both Aziraphale and Crowley to turn around rather quickly. The Duke of Hell had joined them on the Wall, black smoke still pooling from where he landed.

“Funny. Thought you would love this, Hastur,” Crowley replied, sauntering over. “You get all of Satan’s fun jobs this go about.”

“I don’t enjoy the idea of living in your shadow for the next 6000 years.”

“And I thought you said Lord Beelzebub has taken over Gabriel’s role. That seems more than advantageous for Hell. Why would you want to give that up unless, of course, you were lying?” Aziraphale asked in a very passive aggressive tone.

“Oh, I’ve got the answer for that one,” Gabriel answered. “Beezy’s not that well off up there. They may have stolen my job, but they are very much still vulnerable to holy water, and oh, we’ve got a lot of it up there.”

“You didn’t kill them did you?!?” Hastur growled, charging directly up to Gabriel.

“Ah, no not going to answer that one. Now back away, demon, or I can assure you that you’ll never find out.”

Gabriel waved the sword between himself and Hastur. The Duke of Hell backed up in a rather quick fashion with a less than intimidating expression on his face.

“If it was my choice, of course I would’ve chosen to keep my old job over something as lowly as this.” Gabriel turned to speak to Aziraphale. His sword, however, remained pointed at Hastur. “But this was the Almighty’s decision. Do you really want to go against God’s Plan, Aziraphale? Are you left with any faith or has your demon left you with none?”

“Of course I trust the Almighty!” Aziraphale replied, taking a step forward. “But just as I believed that She didn’t wish to destroy the world, I can’t imagine She wanted us all to be so unhappy. Wanted to undo everything that’s been done.”

Gabriel lowered the sword and approached Aziraphale, halting just a few inches in front of him. “This isn’t permanent. Is that what you think? That God has done this for good? Honestly? You really should’ve spent more time Upstairs when you had a chance. Could’ve picked up on some things. No, this is obviously some kind of test, and once we pass, everything goes back to normal.”

“If it is so obvious, could you please inform the rest of us on what exactly this test involves?” Aziraphale asked, still staring the Archangel in the eyes. He leaned ever so slightly forward into Gabriel’s personal space. Just a few days ago, he would’ve never dreamed of speaking to a superior in such a strict, demanding way, but the End of the World had changed all that.

“Just do your job well,” Gabriel replied with a shake of his head. “The Almighty gave us new ones for a reason. So do good work. Get rewarded. In this case, everything goes back to normal. Simple.”

“Wait,” Crowley began with a hand on his hip. “Your idea of what’s going to fix all this is for us all to pretend to be someone else as if we were actors putting on a play for God? That’s what’s going to put everything back to normal?”

“Well, don’t just copy what’s already been done. Do it better. Like how I’m holding onto this sword and not losing it. Make improvements like that.”

“Improving Crowley’s work is far from a difficult task.” Hastur said, still keeping his distance. His petrification from Gabriel’s threats may have worn off, but the lesson remained learned.

“Really? Can’t wait to see how you handle that,” Crowley replied, not even bothering to turn around.

“Any other demon would’ve been a better fit...” Hastur responded, throwing Crowley’s own words back in his face.

Aziraphale rolled his eyes at the two bickering demons before looking back at Gabriel. “How are we supposed to do a more outstanding job than Adam and Eve? Can you even improve upon a job with no criteria?”

“Uh, not my problem. You two need to figure out how to make a human together or something. You’re the Earth expert. Not me.” The Archangel gestured to Eden below. “For starters, I’d get back down there. Adam and Eve lived in the garden. Not on the Wall surrounding it.”

“Is that actually all you’re going to give us?”

“Uh, yeah. I really don’t like you.” Gabriel’s eye twitched. “Now go. And take the demon with you. Both of them actually if you can.”

Aziraphale huffed. “Come on, Crowley. I’m rather done here.” He grabbed the demon’s hand, which was currently flipping off Hastur, before he could reply and jumped off the Wall with him.

They freefalled for a moment before catching the wind and soaring back up into the air. They only heard a few final words as they left the Eastern Gate to return to Eden below.

“I think we’re scheduled for a talk, Archangel.”

A demon and an angel stood on the Wall of Eden, but it very much so was the wrong angel and demon. A thunderstorm rumbled in the sky. It would be the first rain of the new world, yet there would be no act of kindness shared up on the Wall during it. All of the kindness would be left down in the greenery of Eden this time around. But God didn’t mind. She was instead rather captivated by Crowley and Aziraphale holding hands as they soared through the air.

[Chapter 2]

[thestarsintheknight]

Fixable Moments in Endgame [Endgame Spoilers, duh]

WHY I PERSONALLY THINK SOME CHARACTER ARCS WERE DONE DIRTY, PUT UNDER THE CUT AND IF THAT DOESN’T WORK I PUT TWO OF MY DOG PICTURES SO YOU CAN SCROLL REALLY FAST.

Just so you know, and this is at the end of the post as well. I still really enjoyed Endgame for what it was and for what we got. I just have a few problems I’m pretty vocal about too. But I’m trying to not let that effect me as much.

LAST WARNING, ENDGAME SPOILERS AHEAD

Okay so hopefully those pictures of my dogs will allow you to calm and relax. If you’ve seen my last post, I was really upset with just how Tony died. 

I first came out of Endgame like, okay that was pretty okay closure, sure. Steve’s happy and Tony can finally rest and everyone’s alive and Natasha could be at peace with herself because of well, her ledger.

Then I kept thinking. No. They didn’t deserve this end.

Nat’s death was the only death done well. The only one. But I have more about the soul stone later on. 

Steve didn’t really die, and I knew he was gonna not be Captain America but I was curious as to how. I also really wanted Sam to wield that shield because even if Shuri cleaned Bucky of his whole Hydra-ness in his brain, I really do think Sam deserved that shield. So good on you Russos. Because in TWS, it’s said that Sam’s just like Steve, just slower. Steve is the embodiment of Captain America, if that’s the case then that means so is Sam. 

But why in the world did Steve decide to go back in time and be with Peggy? It was pretty closely put there in the show, Agent Carter, and in general that Peggy ended up with Daniel Sousa. Or just someone who wasn’t Steve. Why did Steve have a thing with Sharon in CW then? What was the point of her character? Sharon was badass, but like come on Russos!!! Steve is not one to see something going south and look the other way. That was very well established in CW, directed by the Russos. Yet he goes back in time, sticks with Peggy knows the things he knows about everything (like the Cold War, BUCKY) and you’re telling me he decided to have a domestic life? No!!! IF he even decided to stay back there, he would not sit still. He would have done something. Plus, you can’t say that when Sharon was born and Steve became her uncle that’s a little fucking weird. What the hell was Steve’s ending Russos? Steve’s arc was throughout his trilogy and later Avengers movies was finding his place in the modern world and finding Bucky. He did so much to get Bucky back only to leave him?! Come on, he knows how it feels to be alone in a different time why would he do that to Bucky? Someone who he fought for and said “Till the end of the line” but he broke that promise. Steve’s at the end of his line already by the end of Endgame. So what’s left of that promise? Nothing, it was dusted. 

So yeah, I’m upset about Steve’s ending. An entirely better way could have just been that maybe he’s the one that dies (I would have been upset probably, but it would be very him) instead of Tony. Because Steve has always been the one to sacrifice himself. That would be his arc, seeing the situation going so fucking south that he’s like “Whatever it takes!!” And he gets that gauntlet and snaps. Or maybe he loses his super soldier serum and that’s how he survives but gives the shield to Sam instead. I haven’t really thought of this one so you can add on.

Tony, god Tony’s ending fucking hurt. Tony’s death, his funeral, all of it. It was unfair. All he wanted was a domestic life but the Russos gave that to Steve even though Steve’s character would not want that domestic life? Tony could have been rested not by death but with his little girl, his wife, Peter who he finally got back, knowing that his friendship with Steve is better now. And could grow better if the two were still alive. That was Tony’s deserved arc, fighting the fight to end the fight so he could GO HOME and be with his FAMILY. That’s what should have happened. That’s what he deserved. Go ahead and tell me otherwise. I know it’s shorter of an explanation than Steve’s but that’s mostly because people know Tony better and I think people can agree with me on this more. Pepper didn’t deserve to see Tony die, Peter too, and his best fucking friend Rhodey. They knew he fought this fight to end it so he could spend some time and just retire to be with his family. 

Ways to fix this: Not kill Tony. Have someone else wield the gauntlet. Steve perhaps? Or maybe even Thor. 

Edit [4/29/19]: I am now a little more accepting of Tony’s death but I’m just tired that it has to be through death to have the future Avengers come in. I’m tired that there always has to be angst and whatnot(which I talk about towards the end of this meta) to make things realistic. Realistic =/= sadness and negativity and all of that shit. Happy endings can be realistic. But I’ll always be sad. Here’s a good meta that explains something very well regarding his death: (link) by @van-dyne. 

I would have actually been fine if Tony died if he didn’t have his little girl. (Find Tinymintywolf’s side twitter, not her art twitter, for an explanation on this). But then they introduced Morgan and whoop there it is, he has a family what he’s been wanting for so long. 

Thor is an Asgardian and we’re all aware of how much his mental health was hit. Yet he was reduced to a fucking joke. Like wow hahahaha so funny—not. I feel like, Thor wouldn’t need a redemption arc. But I know in his mind, he’d feel like he should because he blames himself, right? If he were to wield the gauntlet instead, it would make himself feel better about himself, better about being the king his people needed while still being an Avenger. Thor also shouldn’t have left his people. So let’s say he does wield the gauntlet. He goes back to his people and he finally feels worthy to lead. So that’s what he does, he finally gets back to being the king that his character arc had developed for him in his own trilogy, and being an Avenger. That should have happened.

It just makes sense because each movie was mostly about him building his way up to become the king he was supposed to be. Those few lines he exchanged with Valkyrie along the lines of “maybe I shouldn’t be the person I’m supposed to be but rather the person I [need/want] to be” ??? I can’t remember. I just thought that was lowkey like, wot. But for further emphasis, the first movie was about how he wasn’t worthy to hold the hammer or even be king. The second one was figuring out how to be a good man and a king. The third was trying to figure if he was the one to actually be king, and at the end of Ragnarok, he is. 

If Thor weren’t to wield it, then maybe Hulk. What if Bruce just lost Hulk. Then it’s just Bruce and he could be himself. Like the whole Professor Hulk thing was pretty interesting and I didn’t have a problem with it. This is just a little thought that I didn’t really think much on so you can add on to this too.

Now we get to Nat. Nat and Clint’s little fight with each other was very much in character. I don’t really like MCU Clint, I think the whole farmhouse scene could have still been done with one minor change, Laura’s not his wife, it’s his sister or his sister-in-law because he has a brother, Barry!!! Then all those kids are like his nieces/nephews. Anyways, that was the only death that was done that I feel sad but I feel so much closure on, Tony’s, Steve’s, and even Thor’s endings gave “closure” not the right one for each character, as explained before. I’m just upset that there wasn’t a funeral scene for her, or more grieving. Or just, something. 

Then here’s a little idea, not sure if it could work but if Steve was going to go return the soul stone at Vormir, the way the rules work at that mountain is “A soul for a soul” right? Then by giving up the soul stone, can’t he bring back Nat? And if that’s the case then Clint should be the one returning the soul stone. So maybe the reason why when Bruce said (and I got this from a different tumblr post, I forgot who so let me know so I can give credit) he couldn’t bring Nat back was because they already gave the soul stone back (because time travel is whack) and Nat is already back. 

There’s so much more that I’m probably forgetting, I may update or just reblog more. If you guys want to talk or vent, please feel free! I don’t bite! And I’m open to other ideas and just how you think it should have ended. 

Here’s a disclaimer as well: This is not something against the actors and actresses, they all did so well. I think it’s in part a bit of Russos and the writers and anyone else who develops this story. I’m also not saying this because I’m sad Tony’s dead and Steve is no longer Captain America. I would have been fine with Steve not being Captain America anymore if done right.

Also, why does everything always have to be so dark? So edgy? Angsty? It’s fictional so can’t we just... Have that sort of happiness? I’ve watched the MCU for hope, happiness, and you know a good ending. It’s not what I got though. I love the characters, all of them. I like little pellets of angst here and there. But just, why? I’m not sure if I can keep watching the MCU. I still might but I might also just disregard bits and pieces of Endgame.

I just think that the moment you bring in time travel it screws things up. Because essentially it brings in the whole multiverse and if we’re trying the make the MCU one singular timeline, then, uh, hello? Also the entire thing with five years passed but everyone comes back from the moment they disappeared, WOT. Okay, I’m done.

[Minor edit in this Paragraph, 4/29]Overall, I still enjoyed Endgame. A lot. There were so many good moments and a lot of moments where the characters were just them. I loved it a lot and I’m trying to overlook a few things here and there because what I’ve said shouldn’t ruin the movie. I still really enjoyed it a lot. It was good because this was the movie we’ve been waiting for. A nod to the fans, the actors, everyone who created this universe. It was just something that was amazing. @suitofhumour had a really strong point in their post (link) that I’m alluding to here and I don’t want to take credit for it so please, give it a read. Some things don’t sit right with me and I’m so fucking heartbroken over Tony okay, and I’m mad about Steve and Thor. But, yeah. 

[Edit 5/5/19] I GOT ANOTHER THING. If what the former Sorcerer Supreme had said that if one stone got removed from their timeline, there’s nothing that can keep the flow of time, reality, whatever, in check and would ultimately destroy their timeline. Which is why Steve had to go back in time to give it all back seconds after removing it. By that logic, can’t you say that if you were to destroy the stones, then wouldn’t it mean there are no more stones to keep all of the flow of whatever in check? So since the OG timeline no longer has the stones because their Thanos destroyed it, then what? 

Here’s another picture of my dog to calm you down. If needed.

[firstpuffin]

Childhood reading: Redwall

When I was growing up I read a lot, like that’s all I did for long periods of time levels of a lot. Heck, I had a different book in each room of the house so I could put one down and pick up another. I don’t know why; I was a weird kid. But while I didn’t read books like Harry Potter or Skullduggery Pleasant (the latter of which seems quite popular but was published a bit too late for me), the books that I did read were pretty much my entire life and most definitely shaped me into who I am and there was one particular series that I thank for that.

   I adored the Redwall series, written by Brian Jacques up until his death in 2011; he consistently wrote this series on an almost yearly basis from 1986 until he sadly passed away. I must have stopped reading around 2005-6, and was recently very pleased to discover four more books that I never read, nor knew existed, assuming at the time that the series had been long completed. I say recently because upon realising that I want to write children’s fiction, I decided to revisit the stories from my youth. Earlier youth? I’m still pretty young.

  The series follows the history of Redwall abbey, a place of peace and prosperity. Every character in the series is an anthropomorphic animal along the lines of mice, otters, hedgehogs and squirrels, amongst more; these are usually the good guys and are often referred to as “woodland creatures”. This is important as there are also animals such as foxes, stoats, weasels and more that are called “vermin” and play the role of the antagonists. Despite being based around an abbey there is little to no religion within the world, except maybe for a high level of reverence towards the mouse patriarch Martin the Warrior and his sword, which could be similar to that of King Arthur. There is a lot of interesting terminology within the Redwall world, with characters saying “beast” (such as everybeast, somebeast, etc), the young abbeybabes are referred to as Dibbuns; Bloodwrath is a reoccurring term, usually in relation to a badger and is a sort of affliction that sends a beast into a rage where they are immune to pain and unaware of damage as they focus solely on their target. These words are always made clear and so there is little room for confusion.

   The ghost of Martin is a constant in the series where he appears in dreams to guide the characters through hard times. He often provides ambiguous clues to assist in whatever puzzle the story needs solving, puzzles and riddles and such being a common and engaging part of the stories. As this would suggest, there is a certain amount of supernatural within the stories, with seers foretelling the future and prophesies to be fulfilled; there is even a legend of a particularly skilled warrior who is said to be born every now and again, marked by a pink flower birthmark and who is called the “Taggerung”.

  I read all of the books that I could get my grubby little paws on, which is probably all of them that were released up until high-school where I got a bit distracted from reading novels. They were such an integral part of my life that I was shocked to discover that my classmates in the university creative writing course hadn’t even heard of the series outside of the, apparently quite bad, short-lived cartoon. The only other person who I found had read any was one of my lecturers. I was aghast, so in the hope of spreading the word about this series I am writing this.

   Now, one of my lecturers taught us about the, to put it politely, the faeces sandwich method of critiquing someone’s work. You say something nice, say the bad stuff and follow that up with some more positive; I like to add that if you can then try and suggest how to improve on the criticisms, even if it’s just how you would do so, then go ahead. If you can’t take criticism then don’t create. I figure that I’ve praised the series already so I’m going to bring up my criticisms here and go into the rest of the article positively.

   One issue that I remember being aware of even in my youth is the timeline of each individual story as well as them put together. Presumably due to animals shorter lifespans, Mr Jacques doesn’t work with years but with seasons which is in and of itself fine. The problem is that in any one story, the time isn’t always realistic; it can be less than a season and yet a character will learn years worth of skills, mature physically or emotionally by at least half a year or events may simply not match up with other events. One character learns to fix a stutter within a day or two or practicing (Broggle, The Taggerung, 2001); within less than a season another character goes from useless and untrained in weapons, to throwing a dirk with greater skill than those who have been throwing and such long before he was born (Tammo, The Long Patrol, 1997).

   Add to that, badgers live an unspecified amount of time longer than the other creatures; I don’t know much about animal lifespans but one badger can live for multiple generations of, say, mice. But because of this longevity, events that involve generations of badgers will sometimes throw a spanner into the clockwork of the world (See the badgers: Brocktree, Boar, Bella and Sunflash).

   Another complaint is one that may not be noticed by children: characters are very much recycled. The events of much of the series could in all honesty be done with the characters of the first book; many characters are inanely cheerful, they are all gluttons and all love poetry and rhymes. The villains are always impulsive and ruthless to their own subordinates, not a one of them thinking of controlling them via a less violent yet just as evil means. Every! Single! Hare is the same, except for one; male or female, they are greedy, reckless and brave and all, except the aforementioned one, talk like a stereotypical 1900’s Brit on drugs (wot wot old chap and all that tosh).

  Yet, and despite the length with which I have gone on about them, these complaints are minor. The stories themselves are generally solid, and although the growth may happen at an absurd rate, the characters do develop; there is always a puzzle to be solved and an enemy to defeat. I was concerned for a while that the world was a little too black and white with vermin always being straight-up evil and the other characters noble and brave, which could easily be seen as a form of biological racism (as in “this race is biologically evil”), yet there have been books where this has been turned on its head: The Bellmaker (1994) has a searat (basically a pirate and rats are always bad) who is taken in by the abbey and cared for by the reluctant creatures who are uncomfortable having “vermin” around yet are compelled by their sense of duty to help. After this rat’s captain kills one of the residents, the rat is furious at his actions towards the kind folk and kills his own captain and returns that which he stole to the abbey. It is a clear tale of how the right circumstances can allow a bad person to redeem himself.

   Another positive is the frequent presence of capable female characters. It is popular these days to talk of “strong” females, yet I personally believe that this gives people the wrong impression of what it takes to be a decent character, male or female, and so I choose to say “capable” in place of “strong”. While this is a personal preference, I also believe that it is more accurate about the characters within this series. Yes, there are females who break down in fear but there are many examples, such as the disabled Martha Braebuck who is also that unique hare that I mentioned, who will take command when others are fretting (Loamhedge, 2003). Another character who has been a personal favourite from childhood is Mariel Gullwhacker (Mariel of Redwall, 1991) who survives being washed up on a beach with no memory and who finds her way to safety and eventually seeks out revenge on the searat Gabool. For two books she actively follows her own path and fights with nothing but a knotted piece of rope. These are just two examples of different capable female characters, one who fights and one who leads, out of many possible examples.

  This next point could be either good or bad, depending on your preferences in fiction, yet I personally feel it is good for children’s books to cover, and that is death. It doesn’t happen in every book but it is not too unusual for Mr Jacques to build up a likable character or two, only to have them die in some noble fashion, or in one case to die “off-screen” or whatever the written equivalent is. Despite my own childhood reaction to this, being avoiding certain books that broke my heart (no spoilers), I currently believe that this is a positive thing to have in children’s fiction. It’s too easy to avoid anything like death when dealing with children, but that is an unhealthy attitude to have. The Redwall series is especially good in this regard as not only do likable main characters die, but it is not too unusual for a character to deal with shock and guilt after killing, reinforcing the value of lives, even those of “vermin”.

   I would like to round things up with some of my personal favourites from the series. The already mentioned “The Long Patrol” was a favourite up until the time when I stopped reading so much: young Tammo (full name Tamello De Fformelo Tussock, pretty typical for hares) is unable to stay at home as tensions between himself and his father rise and his mother recruits her old friend to take Tammo to join the Long Patrol, a legendary army of hares. What should have been a peaceful enough trip was interrupted when the vermin horde, lead by Damug Warfang, start moving across the land and Tammo happens to meet up with a small scout group of Long Patrol hares. They join the peaceful Redwall abbey in their attempts to stop the horde before they reach the abbey, temporarily vulnerable after a collapsed wall leaves them open to attack.

   I’m not entirely sure why I enjoyed this story so much; maybe it was Damug’s unique sword as well as Tammo’s dirk, my first introduction to that weapon. Maybe it was the badger warrior Lady Cregga Rose-Eyes who spends most of her time lost to the Bloodwrath and runs around as a near-unstoppable juggernaut. I can’t say as I wasn’t quite so keen upon revisiting it, yet I will likely always hold fond memories of it.

   My next entry is another already mentioned story, Mariel of Redwall. Sure, the amnesia trope might be a bit overused yet I’ll forgive that for anything published before 1990. Mariel is captured by searat king Gabool the Wild and forced to be a slave until she is cast into the sea. She wakes up parched, forgetful and with only a knotted rope to her name. She struggles onwards, hearing of Redwall and making her way there, usually alone but occasionally meeting friendly travellers and facing threats with only her rope. She eventually reaches Redwall abbey, regains her memory and sets out to get her revenge and to rescue her father.

   This entry to the series is an engaging story and I really like the character of Mariel, as well as her name. She is a determined and active character who goes through a lot of adversity and comes out the other side better for it. Gabool the Wild is also a typical example of a Redwall villain: while not all antagonists follow this pattern it’s not at all unusual for them to slowly go insane, losing sleep, not eating and failing to keep the loyalty of their subordinates. This is particularly good because in a one-on-one fight, Mariel isn’t an experienced enough fighter to beat a warlord, yet due to his strained mind, mutinous crew and tactics, the reader believes that she can succeed.

   My final entry is a tough one to choose, yet I’m going with Mossflower (1988) for it tells of the conflict that brought about the titular Redwall abbey. There are other books that tell the origin of Martin the Warrior, though Mossflower details his arrival in Mossflower country and how he joins the rebellion of the woodland creatures against the tyranny of wildcat royalty. Martin and a couple of friends are sent to find the badger lord Boar, who could lead them to victory. Instead, Boar forges Martin a new sword from a meteorite and has them return. Martin’s new sword is a constant throughout the series: unbreakable, forever sharp and able to cut through most things with relative ease, it develops a legend of its own and is eventually thought of to be magic. After Martin inevitably prevails, they all start building their new home: Redwall abbey.

   I chose this one for the final for it tells of the story behind many reoccurring elements within the story: Martin, his sword, Loamhedge and of course Redwall abbey itself amongst more. It is also a good story.

[neuxue]

Oathbringer thoughts

I was hoping to be able to liveblog Oathbringer, but it turns out I was too optimistic by half. Well, by about 5/28 anyway, given that I have two and a half WoT books left. I thought about just waiting to read Oathbringer (if there’s anything liveblogging WoT has taught me it’s patience) but I’m going to the Sanderson signing tomorrow so I was running out of time. Anyway, here are some thoughts upon finishing, for the 2 or 3 of you who are interested. I was reading probably a little too fast, so probably missed everything and will at some point need to reread, but here you go.

LOTS OF SPOILERS BELOW. ALL THE SPOILERS. HERE THERE BE SPOILERS. 

In no particular order (but there are 10: a nicely Vorin number to go with my coincidentally Vorin username)

1. Talenel. Taln. Talenelat’Elin. Stonesinew, Herald of War, Bearer of all Agonies. 

That guy.

Taln was a Problem for me literally from the moment he was introduced in the Prelude (offscreen! He didn’t even show up on-page! Why am I like this?!) with the line “Taln had a tendency to choose seemingly hopeless fights and win them. He also had a tendency to die in the process”. A doomed last stand in the form of a character. Why would you do this to me. 

So I’m sure you can guess that Chapter 38 (‘Broken People’ what a chapter title) thoroughly broke me. I mean, it wasn’t even anything we didn’t already know, really. But... “The nine realised that one of them had never broken.” And “The Bearer of Agonies. The one abandoned in Damnation. Left to withstand the tortures alone.” And the fact that it took four and a half millennia for him to break.

I’ve long had a fascination with the idea of ‘everyone has a breaking point’ (when I was 11 I tried to write a novel based entirely on the concept of someone who does not - or cannot - break; the ‘cannot’ turned out to be a rather interesting thing to explore, but the story overall was terrible because, amongst other reasons, I was 11) and with the idea of breaking characters, and what it would take to break certain characters, and what the result would be. 

As I mentioned, I also have a thing for doomed last stands, so basically Talenel was created to be my breaking point, it would seem. (“Herald Talenelat during several of his many, many last stands...” just @ me next time)

And then. And then 

“Four thousand years?” She held his hand tighter. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” [...] “Four thousand years?” Taln asked again. “Ash...” “We couldn’t continue--I...we thought...” “Ash.” He took her hand again. “What a wonderful thing.” Wonderful? “We left you, Taln.” “What a gift you gave them! Time to recover, for once, between Desolations. Time to progress. They never had a chance before. But this time...yes, maybe they do.”

And then...lucidity abandons him, because he is broken, and it’s been four thousand years. But in that one moment, in the moment when he is briefly himself, it’s as if he isn’t broken at all. The fact that this still exists within him, even if the rest of the time he’s found a refuge in madness or forgetting or in the recitation he gives over and over, the advice he needs to give to humanity, the duty he has to them. It’s like name, rank, serial number. It’s very probably the thing he held on to throughout those four and a half thousand years, the thing he could not allow himself to let go of or forget, even as he broke. And the thought that the one point he fixed on, the thing he held fast to even as he broke, was his duty to humankind, is...a lot.

2. Speaking of Taln, let’s talk a little bit about Kaladin

There are plenty of things I could say about Kaladin, but I mostly just want to throw a few quotes out there For Your Interest. Because...I don’t know if there’s anything to this but here.

Quotes about Taln:

“The one who wasn’t meant to have joined them in the first place, the one who was not a king, scholar, or general” 

Um.

“One of them had never broken.”

Quotes about or by Kaladin Stormblessed (surgeon’s son, neither king nor scholar nor general):

“That granite will, that warrior’s poise.” 

(As an aside, how do granite and obsidian exist on a planet with no tectonics? How???)

“Ten spears go to battle” [Kaladin] whispered, “and nine shatter. Did that war forge the one that remained? No, Amaram. All the war did was identify the spear that would not break.”

One unbroken, of ten. 

Eight months. Eight months as a slave, eight months of slop and beatings. It might as well have been an eternity. --from Way of Kings

An eternity of torture? Also Taln’s Scar is high in the sky during Kaladin’s time as a slave. Maybe meaningless. 

Why were they going through all of this? What was the point? Why were they running so much? They had to protect their bridge, the precious weight, the cargo. They had to hold up the sky and run, they had to... --Kaladin’s thoughts, WoK

Take that just a little out of immediate context and that last part especially sure sounds like someone tasked with endless agony for the sake of the world

Yet the sheer glory of what he did seemed at odds with the desolation he caused --Kaladin’s thoughts, WoK

Somewhat less relevant to the thing I’m sort of vaguely postulating but still an interesting choice of words, and the Desolations happen when the Heralds break and return, so.

“His body dead, but not his will” --Hoid, WoR, telling the ‘Fleet’ story

Taln dies a lot. It’s sort of his thing. But his will takes four millennia to break.

“Then I hope I end up in Damnation.” --Kaladin, WoR

I’m just saying.

Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s leftover from one of the things I got hilariously wrong when first reading WoK - obviously Kaladin was gaining the powers of a Radiant but I really, really wanted him to somehow be Taln. (Amusingly, I read Way of Kings before I started Wheel of Time, otherwise it would be easy to see where this notion came from). Maybe it’s Maybelline. Regardless, it’s an interesting set of possible parallels.

3. Wow, he just up and told us what caused the Recreance in book three. 

And it felt like the perfect time for it. It’s the sort of thing you’d normally expect an author to sit on for more or less the entire series. I was tentatively prepared to wait for at least the first five books before getting this much stated outright on-page. 

I’m so glad Sanderson gave it to us now, instead. For one thing, it felt oddly refreshing to have such a big question answered so early. Playing the long game with reveals can work, obviously, but it’s fun to mix things up a bit. It also plays into some of what I ended up talking about in the ‘Dalinar’ section of this list regarding plot twists and the execution thereof. The Recreance is a good example, because it was revealed in full at the point in the story when it could have the impact it needed to have. In-story, it was both the probable and logical time for the secret to come out - it would have started to strain suspension of disbelief if that many characters had some knowledge of it, and none of them ever put it together on-page either in their own thoughts or for the other characters. For the reader, it brings everything together at a point when it’s all very relevant, and at a point when there’s enough information to figure it out if you’re careful and lucky, but not so much that it loses all surprise value whatsoever (For the record, I was close about a lot of it, but there were some pieces I missed and/or put in the wrong place. It did, however, satisfy the one thing I was really hoping it would). 

Narratively and thematically, it makes sense alongside the other questions that are being asked or otherwise addressed - the issue of colonisation and ownership and agency, the question of war and protection and the justifications for either or both, the contrast of unity and division, and of course the question of oaths and honour and betrayal.  

Answering this question now also makes the whole story suddenly feel so much bigger, because when something set up to be this much of a central question is almost just handed to you, it serves to put it into perspective. It makes the rest of the story, and next set of questions we’re starting to ask, and the questions we don’t even yet know to ask, seem so much larger, and the story so much vaster. 

4. OH THANK THE LISTENING GODS THE LOVE TRIANGLE SPUTTERED AND DIED BEFORE IT COULD EAT EVERYTHING 

I breathed an actual literal sigh of relief. I hate love triangles so much, mostly because I usually struggle to maintain ‘bored indifference’ rather than outright irritation at romance subplots in general, so love triangles are almost always intolerable because not only do they double the romance but they turn it into a point of conflict and miscommunication and angst and I cannot fucking stand it. If I had a dragon for every unnecessary love triangle I’ve had to read, I’d have been able to take over the world a long time ago. Or have the world’s most epic bonfire. 

Anyway. Through WoR (and I guess WoK but to a lesser extent) I was torn between trusting Sanderson to avoid or subvert that particular cliche and...not trusting him to do that. There are a lot of things I do trust him with as a storyteller (especially one who has clearly evolved in his writing, storytelling, and awareness) but I wasn’t sure if I could trust him on this. He earned quite a bit of trust from me for how he ended up writing this, actually.

The exact moment I breathed that sigh of relief? It was the conversation Shallan and Kaladin had about her particular coping mechanism. Specifically: 

“No. No, Shallan! I wish I could do the same. [...] How nice would it be, if I could simply shove it all away? Storms.” [...] “This way, I’ll never face it,” Shallan said. “It’s better than being unable to function.” “That’s what I tell myself.”

Because this was the moment when it became exceedingly, abundantly, absolutely clear that Sanderson was doing this on purpose. I had hoped he was, because this was something that felt off about Kaladin and Shallan during their chasms conversation in WoR as well (the ‘she smiled anyway’ thing), but then there was the possibility that it was...accidental. Now, though, I have significantly more faith in Sanderson, because this is a really...I can’t think of the word but I’m glad he did this the way he did.

And I am SO INCREDIBLY GLAD THE LOVE TRIANGLE DIED. And the way in which it died. And the fact that everyone involved respected its death. And that it didn’t stop the characters involved from communicating with and trusting one another. And also that said death included the line “Shallan. he can literally fly.”

(Adolin Kholin is not straight. Just tossing that out there).

(Shallan consistently using the word ‘passion’ when thinking about or describing Kaladin is interesting, though, in light of certain other reveals. Not sure if there’s actually anything to that, but it’s just a thing that stood out).

5. Dalinar

So the identity of Odium’s Champion was one of the things I saw coming as soon as the champion idea was mentioned in this book. (It was brought up in previous books and this was one of my theories but I definitely wasn’t certain, and I was also Distracted by what I wanted to have happen, which is not something that would ever actually happen. I’ll write the fic at some point). 

Anyway, it was predictable...but that didn’t matter, because it was beautifully executed. “You cannot have my pain” is a cool line out of context, but in context it was magnificent. 

I like the way Sanderson does plot twists, because unlike with some authors, it doesn’t feel as if his sole intent is to be able to say ‘ha ha, tricked you, aren’t I so clever’. His goal, it seems, is to tell a satisfying story. Rather than withholding all of the information relevant to the ‘twist’ to make it actually impossible to guess (which doesn’t make you a master of the plot twist so much as it makes you an asshole), he includes the necessary and sufficient foreshadowing to allow the ‘twist’ to make sense and not feel like it came out of nowhere. 

This means, of course, that some readers are going to guess it in advance. That’s just how it works. If you put the information out there, some people are going to put it together correctly and completely. Some people are going to put some of it together, and have a sense of where things are heading. Some people are going to be absolutely sure of where it’s heading...and then be completely wrong. Some people are going to have absolutely no clue. The truly impressive plot twist, I find, is the one that can satisfy people in all of those categories. YMMV of course, but having been in each of these positions at least once while reading Sanderson’s books, I feel like he manages this impressively well. It’s fun if it’s at least a little bit of a surprise, but even when it’s not, it’s satisfying because it’s written as part of the story - as a point of emotional or narrative impact, or a turning point for the characters - well enough that it still has the desired effect. Mostly because ‘gotcha’ isn’t the (only) desired effect.

I digress somewhat.

So before we move on, I’d also like to point out that Dalinar Kholin and Lews Therin Telamon clearly need to form a support group for men who murdered their wives in a fit of madness and fucked with the psyche, memory, and identity of their future selves.

6. “The apocalypse is coming; we don’t have time for bullshit gender roles”

Adolin being absolutely here for Shallan-with-Shardblade. Kaladin going ‘yeah okay’ to women joining the Windrunners. Dalinar learning to read. Jasnah as queen because honestly was there ever actually another choice? 

This is another one that’s just so refreshing to see, especially because it’s clearly something that’s being deliberately examined and played with, but is also integrated into the story. It doesn’t stick out like a sore thumb the author didn’t know what to do with, but it also plays a very real role in the story. It’s not just there so the author can point to the one sword-wielding woman in a cast of thousands of dudes and say ‘but I gave you a Strong Female Character’. 

This ties into something I really appreciate about Sanderson, which is his demonstrated ability and willingness to learn and grow when it comes to issues of representation - not just in terms of including it, but in how he includes it. 

7. Venli

I don’t have a lot to say about her except that I was genuinely surprised by this one. So well done on that, Sanderson.

Also, given his propensity for writing brothers in love with the same woman, I’m almost surprised we didn’t get some sort of reveal about Venli and Eshonai loving the same person.

8. Cosmere convergence

There was a lot more than I expected at this point in the...series? Continuity? Mass of interconnected stories that have evolved into a semi-eldritch being? I enjoyed it and had no problems with this, but I’d be curious to know what someone who’s only read Stormlight thought - does it still work? Do they just play as intriguing and mysterious characters alongside all the other intriguing and mysterious characters, or has it reached a tipping point where you actually need to have read some of the other books?

Also Cosmere-related...Hoid. He’s sure getting more and more screen time, isn’t he? I’m Interested. I have Thoughts. I need to think about them more but I definitely have some Thoughts on who and what he is. Regardless, any character who can say “if I have to watch this world crumble and burn to get what I need, I will do so. With tears, yes, but I would let it happen” is going to Interest me. Not to mention the sheer number of times he tells various characters not to trust him. And then there’s “you turned your back on divinity.” Which is...um. Yeah I’m fine this is fine.

9. Odium

Has to be number 9, because of reasons. Odium was great. Nice subversion of imagery there, and to great effect. 

10. Ideals and Oaths

I mostly find it amusing how a book called Oathbringer is the first to plainly exhibit failed Ideals. Elhokar. Kaladin. (My best guess at the Windrunners’ Fourth Ideal would be something along the lines of “I will protect those I can, and forgive myself for those I cannot” but I’ll have to reread and see if that holds up). The broken Oathpact (there’s a part of me that really wants the gem-encrusted probably-a-fabrial-of-some-sort pillar to be the Oathpact; its manifestation or sealing or what-have-you. Not sure that holds up though). It’s a fun little irony.

[meenasmoon]

Renegades Ch 5: Danger Zone

Alrighty then y’all voted to keep the schedule so here is Renegades as promised. No action this time but lots of development is on the horizon and you need this basis. Read up my lovelies and the next update will be along soon.

Ash woke up with a groan and her eyes were almost immediately assaulted by a bright white light accompanied by a steady beeping. She snarled in annoyance and tried to throw her arm over her eyes to shield herself from the stupid light but her limbs felt like literal dead weights and one of her arms wasn’t responding to her commands. 

“Somebody turn out the fuckin’ lights.” She groaned and she heard a low chuckle that only made her grumpier, “And turn off that stupid alarm. It’s annoying as hell.” 

“Well I guess you’re not really a morning person huh?” Ash squinted through her eyelashes, looking for the source of the voice until she found Johnny smirking at her from somewhere off to her left. She wasn’t quite sure where she was or why her alarm was still going off but if Johnny was next to her then that spelt trouble. She let out another groan and shifted so that she was facing him, only to be struck by the strong urge to slap the smirk right off his handsome face. 

“Shut up.” He held his hands up in surrender and Ash blinked rapidly, trying to force her world to come back into focus but it stubbornly remained blurry, “How much did we drink?” 

This particular hangover was worse than any other one that she had experienced before. She marveled at usually the new ache in her limbs, the fuzziness of her head and a strange burning sensation on her shoulder. Did she get a tattoo or something?! She was pulled out of her thoughts by Johnny laughed harder in his perch next to her. She briefly wondered why he was sitting in a chair instead of in bed with her but she was too annoyed by the British idiot laughing his head off next to her. 

“Would you shut up? You’re so annoying. I can’t believe I slept with you.” She hissed at him and smirked when his laughter was suddenly stopped by a thick choking sound. She glared at him again and found him looking at her with wide eyes and his mouth gaping open. She raised an eyebrow at him and stared until he finally seemed to regain some semblance of brain function. 

“Ash. We dinnae get drunk, we dinnae sleep together. Yer in a bloody ‘ospital. Ya got shot at the White Wedding.” Ash stared at him for what felt like an eternity, waiting for the room and subsequently her memories, to come back into focus. Suddenly she could look around and clearly see the white walls of a hospital, equipment and that stupid beeping of a heart monitor. 

“Oh. Well thank god. That would’ve been a total mess.” She examined her arm, which was swathed in bandages and secured to her chest by a sling, and winced when she adjusted her position so that she could sit up and fix him with a smirk. Johnny glared at her in confusion and pouted a little bit as he scooted closer to her. 

“Wot do ya mean it would ‘ave been a mess?” He grumbled and Ash just smirked at him before adopting a nonchalant look as she smoothed out her blankets. It took every ounce of her control to keep her face impassive while she messed with her friend. He just made it way too easy for her to work him up. 

“Well you know… you would have gotten all clingy and needy and then I would have had to break your little heart.” She nodded sadly and watched smugly as Johnny’s face turned red and he sputtered, trying to get the words out to protest, “And then we wouldn’t be able to work together because you would just be too obsessed with me and well… messy.” She fixed him with a smug look, fully aware that he had caught on by now but his manly pride wouldn’t let him just sit there and  be insulted. 

“Oh please! Ya got some big ego ya lil-“ His grumpy snarling was suddenly cut off when the door to her room opened and Buster came in. He took one look at Johnny’s angry face and Ash’s smug look and let out a heavy sigh. When had his job as a team leader for an elite squad turned into a babysitting gig? 

“Alright you two, can’t you behave for at least one minute?” Buster gave them both a disapproving look and while Johnny’s anger melted away and he had the good sense to appear apologetic, Ash just stuck her tongue out at him and tried to look as pathetic as possible in order to avoid any punishment or lectures. Buster let out another heavy sigh but decided that since she had taken a bullet on a practice mission he might as well let her have her fun just this once. It wasn’t like she was going to listen to him anyways. 

“Let’s let Ash get some rest hm?” He nodded to Johnny who quickly vacated his seat and headed out into the hallway, but not before shooting Ash a look and signaling that he was watching her. Ash just rolled her eyes and flipped him off with her good arm. Buster would have intervened if it wasn’t for the way Johnny laughed at her childish behavior. He incredulously watched the young agent walk down the hall and shook his head. He wasn’t sure that he would ever understand the strange friendship that had developed between his two main field agents and he wasn’t sure that he really wanted to. 

  He turned to Ash, who was now fiddling with the remote and flipping through the channels, her small form looking especially pathetic in the middle of the large hospital bed. He did feel bad for her being stuck in the hospital and essentially taken off duty but he also knew her history so he couldn’t leave without one last well-meaning threat. 

“Now you behave or I’ll put you on desk duty even after you’re healed up.” He pointed at her menacingly and fixed her with a serious look. She opened her mouth either to spout some bullshit about being a perfect patient or to protest desk duty, but he wasn’t particularly interested in listening. 

“I mean it. I hear about any misbehavior, any escape attempts and I’ll bury you in paperwork faster than you can blink. Just rest and recover for once in your career.” Ash pouted and settled back in her pillows to grumpily stare at the TV, not really watching whatever was on the screen. Buster chuckled at her childish antics but as he closed the door her departing comment renewed his exasperated affection. 

“Whatever dad.” 

He could almost see he sticking her tongue out at him, and the image caused his gentle laugh to turn into loud chuckles, earning him a few confused glances as he walked out of the hospital to find Johnny and Rosita waiting with the car. He eyed the black SUV that they had been issued by the agency and felt a pang of longing for the familiarity of his beaten up scooter, but his professionalism won out. If he had to ride in an obviously government SUV, so be it. *** Rosita was nervously bouncing on her heels, scanning the hospital entrance, waiting for Buster to emerge. She glanced at her watch for what felt like the millionth time and cursed inwardly when she saw what time it was. The second that Buster appeared in the entrance to the hospital she dashed over to him, bursting with so much nervous energy that she could barely articulate her request. 

“Oh Mister Moon. Thank goodness you’re here. I have an appointment that I completely forgot about and I was just wondering if maybe Johnny could drive you back to the HQ so I could try and make my appointment.” She managed to say everything in one breath and Buster watched her speak with wide, confused eyes and slight discomfort at her proximity. Rosita just continued to stare at him, waiting with bated breath for his reply and hoping against hope that he was truly as kind as he seemed and would let her go from her duties early. 

Buster raised one eyebrow in bewilderment at her near frantic pleas and took one step back from where she was unknowingly invading his precious personal space bubble, “Oh um… of course Rosita that won’t be a problem.”

  The words were barely out of his mouth before his stiff form was being swept up into an unsolicited hug as the petite blonde nearly squeezed the life out of him. She was gone nearly as quickly, dashing towards a waiting cab that he had somehow not noticed until now. She was spewing a constant stream of thank yous as she dashed away and all Buster could do was smile stiffly and try to shake off his discomfort at the invasion. He wasn’t even remotely used to contact of any kind and the effervescent personality and contact from the teams most bubbly member threw him for a loop. 

Before Rosita could disappear into the cab he called out after her, trying to maintain some professionalism in their exchange, “Rosita! In the future keep me abreast of any appointments so that I can work them into the schedule.”

  Rosita froze halfway into the cab and her pale cheeks lit up with an embarrassed hue of red as she smiled tentatively at him and slid the rest of the way in, “Sure thing Mister Moon.” With that she gave the cabby the address and they quickly merged into traffic and sped towards the other end of the city. Rosita glanced at her watch once more and the sinking feeling that had been lingering in her stomach grew stronger. 

With nervous fingers she withdrew a small makeup mirror from her purse and went about checking what little makeup she had on. She was examining her eyeliner when she finally realized what she was doing and quickly snapped the mirror closed. She shoved it into her bag a little harder than was necessary and nervously drummed her fingers on her knee, praying that the cabby would move faster and somehow save her from the embarrassment of being late to her very first counseling appointment. 

Being late was no way to make a good first impression and if she took any longer she would never hear the end of it from Norman, who was most likely awkwardly waiting for her in the lobby. She loved her husband with all of her heart but he was relatively hopeless in any and all social situations, hence the reason why he was a data analyst and not an agent. 

She felt the cab slowing down and her gaze snapped ahead of them to examine the area. They were nearly there. She dug around in her purse for a twenty and as soon as the cab came to a stop she shoved it into the front of the car and practically leapt out of the vehicle. She tried to speed walk through the office building as casually as possible but she knew that she was wholly unsuccessful by the looks that she was getting from other people. 

  She practically burst into the waiting room of the therapist’s office and Norman leapt to his feet from where he had been sitting in one of the chairs waiting for her. The other patients waiting looked up and watched the couple curiously as Rosita desperately tried to maintain her smile under the pressure of her nerves. Everything about the office made her uncomfortable and Norman was not helping by the way that he had taken her arm wand was grumpily leading her back to the therapist’s office. 

“Where have you been Rosita? I’ve been waiting for almost twenty minutes.” He hissed out as they walked and Rosita felt her anger flare as she forced herself not to snap at her husband. 

“I was with the team dear. I wasn’t aware that it would take this long.” She gritted out through her teeth and the fires of her anger rose when Norman just snorted and remained silent. once they entered the room, Rosita made a point of sitting on the far end of the couch, shooting Norman a look that clearly communicated how discontent she was with his attitude at that moment.

  The look she received in return as he sat on the opposite end of the couch clearly communicated that he wasn’t entirely happy with her at the moment either. Rosita just huffed out a sigh and turned her best welcoming smile to the therapist who was watching their interaction very closely as she took notes on a large notepad. 

Rosita felt any hopes that this would go smoothly disappear as soon as the therapist took off her glasses and gave them both a serious look. “Thank you for making it today Mrs. Tenny. I assume that in the future you will be on time for all sessions. After all, we want to take this situation seriously do we not?” 

Rosita felt herself shrink under the woman’s glare and all she could do in reply was nod and let out a meek, “Yes of course.” 

The woman, satisfied that she had made her point clear turned her attention back to the two of them instead of only on Rosita, “I can see that we have a lot of work to do here. Why don’t we start by sharing? Norman? Would you like to go first?” 

Rosita glanced at her husband as he easily addressed a woman that was essentially a stranger, shock written all over her features. She quickly got over it as he started airing his grievances and Rosita let out a heavy sigh. She would give her right arm to be back in the garage, elbow deep in the SUV’s engine, taking it apart and souping it up to her specs. But she was here and there was no escape, or at least none that she could find, and she had looked. *** After Rosita dashed away Johnny and Buster quietly climbed into the SUV and began the drive back to HQ. Johnny gripped the steering wheel like his life depended on it and tried to quell his inner debate over whether or not to share the details of the voicemail that his father had left him when he had been flying back to the city. 

  As soon as Johnny arrived in his tiny apartment he kicked off his hoes, shed his favorite leather jacket and slumped into the kitchen to find something to eat before he collapsed and slept for a week. As he passed his answering machine he hit the playback button and his messages began to play on speaker as he searched the fridge for a snack.

The first two were from his pushy landlord and Johnny rolled his eyes as the old man struggled to leave a simple voicemail. When his ramblings ended Johnny shoved an apple into his mouth and shut the fridge door. He was halfway to his bedroom when the answering machine began to play out his father’s rough voice.

'Johnny! Jeezus boy ya never ‘ave ya mobile on ya. Would it kill ya ter answer the phone once in awhile?’ Johnny rolled his eyes and leant in the doorway of his room, waiting for his father to get to the point.

“Anyways, I got some news. Me and the boys got hired out fer a real big deal and I want ya ter come wif us. Bulldog wants us ter supervise a big arms deal down at the docks on Saturday and I could use yer ‘elp. This one could set us up fer life son. Bulldog ‘imself is gonna be there makin’ the deal. We get in good with him and we own dis city. Call me back when ya get this.” Johnny slowly put down his apple and stared at the answering machine incredulously, his heart pounding in his chest and his brain going haywire with excitement.

  Bulldog was the key weapons supplier for the syndicate and one of the five founding members. He was notoriously paranoid and would have been one of their hardest targets except now Johnny knew exactly where he was gonna be and when. He let out an excited whoop and quickly jotted down the information on a sticky note. They would arrest Bulldog and all of his accomplices in one foul swoop. He would be a hero in the agency for this bust.

He flopped back onto his bed and suddenly his excited grin faded as he considered the fact that his father was now technically one of Bulldog’s associates and the bust would probably result in his arrest as well. Suddenly he felt sick to his stomach as his worst fear was slowly becoming true. He had known that he couldn’t keep his secret from his father forever but he never imagined that his dad would have to find out while his own son arrested… betrayed him. But at the same time Johnny knew that his father was a criminal and his arrest was an eventuality and arresting Bulldog would save a lot of lives.

He spent the rest of his night staring at the ceiling, wrestling with his decision and his heart.

Johnny glanced at his reflection in the rearview mirror and winced when he saw the faded purple bruises under his eyes, evidence that he hadn’t slept since receiving the message that would change his entire life. Johnny glanced over at Buster who was poring over the files of their targets, trying to determine their first real move as a team. 

Johnny caught sight of the sheet labeled Bulldog and winced when he saw the picture of the man. He was obviously huge and his bald head was covered in scars and tattoos as he glared back at the camera, his eyes cold and dead inside. This man was dangerous, a stone cold killer, ad they had a chance to get rid of him. In that moment Johnny knew what he had to do. It would hurt to give up the information to Buster but he was doing it for the right reasons, and hopefully he could stay as far away from it as possible. He cleared his throat and nervously turned his gaze back to the road, not really focusing on the traffic that he was weaving through. 

“I got a call from my dad last night when we got back…” He started out, his voice cracking slightly with nerves as he adjusted his sweaty grip on the steering wheel, “He wants me to go with the gang to a big arms deal at the docks on Saturday.” 

Buster glanced up at him and gave him a confused glance. He was aware of the young agent’s family ties and criminal history but they had never been a problem before and Johnny was always able to keep from participating in his father’s heists without revealing who he was working for. That didn’t mean that the agency didn’t keep a sharp eye on the Bannerton family but they were a minor threat if anything, a matter for the local police. 

“Why are you telling me? We don’t handle small time arms dealers.” He examined Johnny’s stiff posture and the way that he nervously licked his lips before he spoke. There was definitely something wrong, or at least something important going on here. He quickly closed his files and turned all of his attention over to Johnny. 

“Because this isn’t small time.” Johnny took a deep breath and gripped the steering wheel so tight that his fingers started to turn white from the lack of blood flow, “The reason ‘e wants me in on it is cause 'e’s been invited as muscle for… The Bulldog.” 

“The Bulldog?! This is perfect!” Buster’s face lit up with excitement and a grin blossomed on his face as he processed the information that Johnny had just given him. One of the most elusive members of the Syndicate was going to be at an arms deal at the docks on Saturday. The universe was practically handing him a golden opportunity on a platter. There was no way that they could mess this up. 

  "Exactly the break that we needed. If we can take out the Bulldog at this meet then we’ll be one step closer to taking down the syndicate. Not to mention essentially freezing their major weapons supply.” He mumbled to himself before turning the full force of his excitement on the conflicted form of his agent. Deciding that the boy deserved some praise for the risk that he was taking, Buster clapped a hand on the young man’s shoulder. 

"Well done Johnny! I’ll start planning the undercover operation after my meeting with Director Noodleman. This is fantastic Johnny. Just fantastic!” He excitedly opened his folder and began furiously scribbling notes about how best to stage the takedown. 

  He was so wrapped up in his planning that he didn’t notice the way Johnny’s entire form sagged and his face paled at the words ‘undercover operation’. Buster had unknowingly dashed his hopes of preserving his relationship with his father. The only person who could go undercover was him and that meant that he would have to betray his father and his uncles right in front of their faces. He felt sick to his stomach and his head started pounding with a headache as he glared at the cars in front of him. 

“Yeah…. fantastic” 

***

When Johnny dropped him off at the Agency HQ, Buster was still scribbling furiously on his notepad, already making note of the gear that they would need, how much backup was necessary, recon, etc. He hopped gratefully out of the SUV and didn’t even glance back at it as Johnny pulled away and disappeared down the street. 

  Buster hurried into the towering office building, smiling at the impassive guards who just nodded and then returned to monitoring the security cameras. Buster stepped into the elevator in the far left, pressed the buttons for floors 3, 9, and 7 and then pressed the door open button twice. 

‘Code Accepted.’ A computerized voice echoed through the small space and suddenly the elevator shot upwards towards the Director’s office, which was probably the last place that Buster ever wanted to visit. However, now that he was armed with Johnny’s information and the good news of the progress of their operation he was confident that he could turn this visit away from the chewing out that it was almost guaranteed to be. 

He took a deep calming breath, preparing himself for the irate woman that he would find on the other side of those doors. As soon as the elevator stopped and the doors opened to let him out he bustled through the long hallway, past a secretary that didn’t even so much as glance at him and into Director Noodleman’s office. 

“Nana!” He greeted as charmingly as possible as he approached the desk where Nana Noodleman was glaring at him over the top of her spectacles, “How long has it been since we last saw each other face to face? I must say that you haven’t aged a day!” 

He laughed nervously and pulled at his collar when Nana just continued to silently glare at him from her desk. Finally she rose to her considerable height, towering over Buster as she walked past him to the door to her office. She slammed it closed and then pointed to the small chair positioned in front of her desk. Buster felt his confidence fade with each step and when he finally sat down in the seat he was already picturing the many ways that Nana could kill him and no one would ever know.

  Nana slowly made her way back to her desk but instead of sitting down she placed her hands on the desk and leant forward so that Buster was forced to shrink down in his seat, that nervous grin still plastered onto his face.

  “Would you like to explain to me why you sent a team specifically assembled to take down the Syndicate to act as bodyguards at a royal wedding?” She hissed out and Buster gulped down the fear that rose in his throat and insisted that he beg for forgiveness before she threw him out of a window and called it an accident. He opened his mouth tell her about the training purposes of the mission when suddenly she pushed off her desk and slowly walked over to the window. 

“And would you also explain how your team managed to turn such an event into a sniper shootout and an action movie chase scene?!” Her voice rose in volume and fury as she continued, not really giving Buster a chance to answer the questions that were supposedly directed at him. As she continued to rant about his incompetence and the international incident that they had almost caused by just being there Buster made the decision not to tell her that his agent with family ties to the criminal underground was going on an undercover mission with said family. What she didn’t know wouldn’t result in his dismemberment. 

“I’m done with the games Moon. You request a R.E.D. asset and put her in control of the tech rather than using her for her purposes, your troublemaker sniper ends up in the hospital and that German buffoon got drunk at the reception. What do you think this is? The CIA? We are the Agency. We are subtle, we don’t leave traces, and we don’t partake in a client’s wedding cake!!”

  She roared out, her fists clenched as her face turned red and her curly black hair bobbed with the force of her fury. Buster could only nod in agreement and meekly smile up at her in what he hoped was a reassuring way. 

“I understand Director. It won’t happen again I swear. The team is nothing if not professional and this mission is in good hands.” Buster chuckled and clutched his dossier to his chest as if it would protect him from her. Nana just rolled her eyes and sat back down in her chair, leaning back into the hard wood and steepling her fingers in front of her face as she examined him. 

“It had better be Agent Moon, or I will make sure that it’s in someone else’s capable hands. Am I clear?” Buster just nodded, his face white as a sheet as he looked up at her. Nana smirked in the face of his fear and pressed a button on her desk that linked her intercom to her secretary’s. 

“Send him in.” She commanded and seconds later the door to her office opened to admit a tall, lanky man with big curly blank hair and a messy suit. His tie was tied wrong and hung loose around his neck, one sleeve was rolled up while the other was down and unbuttoned and his white shirt had a big coffee stain on the front. 

“Hey Buster.” Eddie Noodleman waved tentatively at his childhood friend before falling silent under his grandmother’s glare. Buster nodded to his friend and then turned to look at Nana with a thoroughly confused expression.

  “Obviously you remember my grandson Edward.” She sighed exasperatedly as she glanced over grandson with a critical eye before shaking her head and turning her severe gaze back to Buster, “I’m assigning him to your team as my liaison. His job is to observe and report to me on the progress of your team.”

  “Yes ma’am.” Buster nodded, slightly relieved that of all of the agents she could have chosen she picked one of his good friends. Nana probably didn’t realize the advantage that she had given Buster and there was no way that he was going to be the one to tell her that. 

“Good. now both of you get out of here. I have work to do.” She slipped her glasses back on and looked down at the files covering her desk, essentially ignoring them and ending the meeting. Buster and Eddie simultaneously breathed a sigh of relief as they left the office and shared the elevator down to the lobby, chatting amicably the whole way. 

As they parted ways outside the building Eddie clapped a hand on his back and gave his friend a big smile, “See ya for pizza and video games tomorrow night Boss?” He teased and Buster just laughed at him, increasingly happy that Eddie was joining his team. He had honestly missed spending time with his friend as his duties as team leader took over most of his free time. 

“Yep. I’ll be there.” He replied and Eddie walked backwards away from him, still grinning like an idiot. 

“Sweet!” And with that he turned around and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Buster to search for a cab back to the theatre hideout. Things were starting to look up: he had a lead, his best friend was coming to work for him, and he had survived another encounter with Nana. Yes, fortune was truly smiling down upon him. *** Johnny parked the SUV in the underground garage of the theatre hideout and sat in the driver’s seat for a second trying to collect himself. After a few minutes he still didn’t feel better, rather he now had the urge to wander around hideout, just to move and work off some of the nervous energy that had been building in him since last night. He hopped out of the SUV and began to make his way through the garage, his hands shoved in his pockets and his eyes downcast.

He wandered through Rosita’s area, peeking at the mess of parts that covered her work table. He considered sifting through them, if only to satisfy his own curiosity, but thought better of it when he saw the DO NOT TOUCH sign that had been placed over the gadgets. He valued his life too much to disobey Rosita when it came to her machines. 

Deciding to put as much distance between himself and Rosita’s station as he possibly could Johnny hurried through the halls and wandered aimlessly through the maze of passageways. He stopped in his tracks when he suddenly heard the faint sounds of music coming from somewhere nearby. It was obviously eighties rock, an odd genre for anyone on the team to listen to. Johnny smirked and found himself sneaking down the hallways in search of the source. 

When he finally found it he found himself standing in front of a door labeled MISSION CONTROL. He  shrugged and slowly inched the door open so that he could peek inside. The room was covered in computer screen and files and seemed all but empty until Johnny turned his head and found himself looking at a sight that stopped his heart mid-beat. 

A curvy African American woman was dancing around a computer as it loaded some unknown software, her eyes closed and her body relaxed as she moved. Her moves were really defined, it was more like she was letting her body sway wherever it wanted to, like she was only in for the ride that the music took her on. 

Her long curly hair was pulled up into a messy ponytail that was gradually coming undone as she moved so that strands of hair fell across her hair and caressed her skin. Her plump lips were parted slightly as she mouthed along to the words and Johnny felt the sudden urge to gather her up in his arms and claim those lips as his own. 

  He looked down at his own hands in surprise as if they had betrayed him, this girl was not his usual type. The women he went over had barely any body fat and wore clothes that left nothing to the imagination. This voluptuous stranger was wearing simple jeans, converse and a comfortable sweatshirt that made Johnny wonder what exactly she was hiding under there.

  This was new territory and he had to tread carefully but nothing could stop a little flirting, even if every fiber in his being was screaming for him to claim her as his own. Johnny tamped down his rebellious heart and slipped into the room, using the beat of the music to disguise his footsteps until he was standing in front of the bouncing woman. 

He was about to say something when suddenly she whipped her hair past his face and he was hit by the comforting scent of lilacs and peaches. His brain stuttered to a stop and all he could think about was how he wanted to surround himself in that scent forever. Johnny let himself bask in the moment for a second before he forced himself to revert back to the suave player that he had always been, a comfortable place where his heart was safe and he was in control. 

“Well ‘ello there.” He said over the music and the woman froze like a statue, her eyes snapping open to reveal bright blue crystals that twinkled in the low light of the mission control room. She flushed all over, the redness leaking down her neck as she fumbled to turn off the music and regain some sense of professionalism. Johnny was too mesmerized by her eyes to notice. 

“Agent Bannerton.” She breathed out, obviously embarrassed, but a fissure of recognition shot through Johnny and he looked at the gorgeous woman in a new light, “Wh-what are you doing here so late?” 

Johnny grinned crookedly at her, projecting charm even as his insides squirmed nervously, “Well obviously I came up ‘ere ter meet ya Angel.” he winked and Agent Jones turned even redder, her eyes widening slightly in confusion.

  “M-my name is Meena.” She stuttered out and Johnny captured her hand, bringing it to his lips so he could whisper against her skin before he kissed it. 

“Tha’s a beautiful name Angel.” He chuckled when she let out a squeak in response and snatched her hand back as soon as he released it. 

“I-I don’t understand.” She said as she backed up slightly, glancing nervously at her computer as if hoping that it would provide some escape. However, the screen only displayed a loading bar that was nowhere near close to disappearing. 

“Daan’t understand wot love?” He asked, running a hand through his hair in hat he hoped was a suave move but was actually leaking with nerves. She gave him a tentative smile that sent his heart pounding and then looked down at the floor. 

“W-we barely know each other. Wh-why do you call m-me Angel?” She wrung her hands nervously and Johnny took a step closer into her personal space. 

“Well tha’s easy love. Cause yer sweet voice came down and saved me from a death by boredom.” He lightly ran his fingers over her cheek and grinned when she shuddered at his touch. She tried to say something in response, anything but she seemed frozen like a deer in headlights, completely at his mercy.

  “Who coulda known that you’d be so pretty to boot?” His grin grew as her blush spread and she seemed to move a little bit closer to him, surrender glinting in those magical eyes. Johnny was about to seal the deal with a kiss, as per usual, when suddenly his phone rang and the loud noise startled both of them. 

Meena quickly moved away from him and to one of her other computers, mumbling to herself about system upgrades and other techno babble that went right over his head but didn’t turn him off in the least. Oh no she was smart too, how dare she draw him in when he wasn’t ready? How dare she catch him off guard and look at him like that? 

It wasn’t fair. 

He grumpily grabbed at his phone and groaned when he saw that it was his landlord calling again. He looked up to Meena who was looking at him shyly, her eyes wide with curiosity and her pupils blown wide from their almost intimate encounter. 

“I guess I gotta go Angel. I’ll see ya tomorrow right?” He winked when Meena nodded wordlessly and gave her a little wave as he disappeared back into the hallway, his cell phone pressed to his ear. Meena watching him go on the security cameras until he was gone and suddenly she could breathe again.

  She gulped in breaths of air and cursed his ability to put her under his spell just like every other woman. She may have been locked down in cyber crimes but she knew about Johnny Bannerton and his reputation with women. She sat down in her chair and groaned and rubbed her hands over her face, trying to steel her resolve. 

She could handle casual flirting. She could show him that he wouldn’t be able to seduce her so easily. She had too much dignity to become another notch in his bedpost. He had never met a woman like her before, she would make sure of that. The ding of her download finishing drew her back to her beloved computers and threw all thoughts of Johnny out the window. Her software took over the computers in the room and mission control was immediately transformed into her own personal lair. 

Welcome to the Danger Zone she thought as she flipped on her music and resumed dancing around the room.

[astudyinimagination]

The Heir, Chapter 2

"Between Present and Past” 

Chapter two of my WIP fic The Heir. Prologue can be found here; chapter one here; description here. Will definitely try to make a tags page for my fics in the future.

This story is off to a slow start in more ways than one, and there’s something I should say right now: there are a lot of flashbacks. There’s a lot of going back and forth between the present and the past—stuff in backstories unfold as the main story goes on. This particular chapter is flashback-heavy. (It also starts with a scene that I’ve already posted to Tumblr, so if you’ve already read that, you can skip over it to the next page break.)

Chapter rating: M.

Warnings: mentions of forced prostitution, miscarriages, still birth, generally birth-related ickiness, and marital sex.

There were many places in London in which respectable women, even of the working class, should never venture. But for the woman sitting at the bar in one of the seedier pubs she knew, respectability was the last thing on her mind. Not that she had to worry about her reputation, in her worn suit and bowler hat and fake moustache.

In a man’s world, pretending to be a man gave her a certain degree of freedom she couldn’t otherwise have.

She took a drag from her cigarette and sighed. Skulking aimlessly around taverns wasn’t going to fix her problems; she needed to get off her backside and on her feet again. Oh, come off it. How much bad luck does a person need to run up before they’re entitled to a respite?

A sudden commotion jolted her out of her sulking. A man shouting at a girl, in one of the corners of the establishment. She couldn’t make out what he was saying above the din of the place, but he was gesticulating wildly, and the girl was cowering… And there was the blow, across the face.

The woman dressed as a man surged to her feet and strode towards the pair. The girl was now crying, and as the woman got closer, she could make out the words. “Ned, please, Oi don’ want to!”

The man struck her again. “Yew’ll want to if I say! We need the money, an’ I’ve already made the deal!”

“No, Ned, please!”

The man brought his hand back for another blow, but it never fell. The woman’s grip around his wrist was as unforgiving as a shackle. The girl gasped. The man cursed and turned around to face the woman. “Wot the ‘ell d’yew think yew’re doin’?!”

“Acting like a decent human being,” the woman said coldly, belying the fire blazing in her gut, “which is more than I can say for you or anyone else in this sorry dump.”

“Leggo of me!” The man’s—Ned’s—eyes were red-rimmed, his face flushed; he’d clearly had far more liquor than she had.

“Leave this girl alone and I will.”

Ned turned back to his prey. “Oh, didja finally git yewrself a man?” There was something very ugly in his tone. “That why yew’re not wantin’ t’work with His Lordship?”

Terror shone in the girl’s eyes. “Oi swear, Oi ain’t never seen ‘im afore!”

The woman’s grip tightened, and Ned cried out. Standing at five foot eleven, she towered over Ned, and leaned in to hiss, “I have nothing to do with this poor girl, and I think you shouldn’t, anymore, either. Leave her alone.”

“The ‘ell Oi will! She’s mine! She’s my sister!” Ned gave a mighty pull, then, to free himself, and the woman clenched her free fist, driving a left hook into the man’s stomach. He doubled over, and she kneed him for good measure, letting go of his wrist and watching in satisfaction as he crumpled to the floor.

She looked up then at his poor sister, who was watching with wide, pale eyes. The woman held out her hand to the girl, who couldn’t have been much older than twenty. “Come with me.”

The girl hung back, afraid.

The woman sighed in frustration. “Come on! Do you want to stay with that—” she nodded at the figure on the floor—“for the rest of your life?!”

“Oi…”

“I shan’t hurt you, I promise.” The woman reached out and grabbed the girl’s hand, pulling her to the door, the other patrons giving them a wide berth. This was hardly the first time they’d seen this person dressed as a man land a couple of blows on another bloke, and they weren’t about to interfere. She had a justified reputation for being brutal, and better still, very few blamed her for it.

“Who are yew?”

The woman waited until they were outside, turned to her, and whispered, “Not a man.” Louder: “What’s your name?”

“T-Tess.” The girl probably thought her companion mad.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the woman said feelingly as she led the girl to a better street so they could catch a cab. Three blocks away from the pub, she let her Estuary accent slip. “I’m trying to help you. What did Ned want you to do?”

Tess didn’t even blink at the change in inflection. “‘E was gonna s-sell me services to His Lordship. S-said our family needed the money. We are poor folks, mum.”

The woman held down her suddenly boiling rage with effort. “Nothing justifies slavery, Tess. Who’s this Lordship you speak of?”

“Him what owns the buildin’ we live in, mum. That’s wot we all call ‘im.”

“What did His Lordship want with you?” The woman thought she knew, but she wanted to hear her theory confirmed, even if it sickened her.

Tess faltered. “Well… I… I’m pretty, mum.”

The woman had to take a deep breath. An outburst will not aid you. You can’t do anything about the brother. Help the sister. “Tess, you know that’s illegal, right? Selling you to this man to be his…”

“Whore,” Tess supplied quietly. “Sure it is, mum. But why would that make any difference?”

“You could go to the police.”

“They wouldn’t ‘elp the likes of me, mum. Wot would Oi go to them, for?”

It was true—unless the brother had written proof of his despicable bargain, the woman couldn’t think of a single thing the police could do about the situation. Not with the law as it stood now.

She turned to the girl. “Come home with me,” she said softly. “I can help you. I’ve helped other girls like you, girls with bad families, bad husbands. Just come. You don’t have to go back.”

Tess shook her head, a glimmer of pride in her eyes for the first time. “Oi won’t take no charity, mum.”

“Oh, it’s not charity.” The woman arched an eyebrow. “I’d expect you to work and earn your keep. But I think your dignity would be better served in performing the duties of a maid rather than becoming one in name only.”

Tess reddened. “Yewr ‘usband won’ mind?”

The woman stopped short. “...my husband has no say in how I live my life, Tess. He lost that right.”

The girl’s eyes widened. “‘Ow?”

“I know you love me, Godfrey. I know that beyond a shadow of a doubt. But I need you to look me in the eye, and tell me that you regret what you’ve done.”

“...darling… I do love you.”

“...I know. But that isn’t enough.”

“He sold his soul to the devil, Tess,” she said quietly, and whistled to catch the approaching cab—“and he didn’t regret doing it. Are you coming?”

The cab rolled up to halt before them, and she watched fear and hope fight for dominance in Tess’s too-thin features. Poor girl—she had probably never done anything so brave in her life, escaping her family like this. After a few seconds, she nodded slowly. “Yes, mum.”

The woman smiled, and helped her up into the cab. Once they had set off, she turned to the girl and said, “Please, Tess: call me Irene.”

Mary felt the urge and resisted it, braiding her hair instead. Even after three months, her hands wanted to lie over her belly, now empty and almost flat again.

This most recent attempt to have a child had proven to be not a disaster, but a nightmare. Mary had been twenty-seven when she first met John; she had already been old enough to qualify as an old maid. In the two years they had been married, they had tried again and again to have children, both aware that neither of them were quite as young as many newlywed couples starting families. John was seven years older than she, and he wanted children just as badly as she did.

She miscarried the first two. She had thought that nothing could match the crushing disappointment and sense of loss she had felt each time… but then she had conceived a third time. Then the baby had survived long enough to make her presence felt, to kick and somersault, and move to the sound of her father’s voice, speaking nonsense to her mother’s belly.

And then, after the most terrific and prolonged agony Mary had ever experienced, their daughter had died before she could draw her first breath.

“John, how is she? Can I hold her? What does she look like?”

“Oh… Mary…” The incredible look of loss on his face had answered her questions.

“No… no…”

“Mary, love… I’m so sorry...”

“No! I want my baby, John! I want my baby! Please!”

He had sat on the bed and wrapped his arms around her, not heeding her struggles. She didn’t want comfort; she wanted her baby… And then, over John’s shoulder, she saw the midwife silently wrapping up a tiny, bluish form in the cloth that should have been her child’s first blanket, and something inside her broke.

She didn’t remember the week following, not properly. It was a haze of tears, dreams both good and bad, and expelling excess blood and fluid and tissue from the pregnancy. Her body slowly working its way back to normal didn’t help her any, particularly the emptiness of her womb. The swelling of her breasts, filling with milk for her dead daughter, added another layer of misery.

She barely spoke to John, though he hardly left her side that first week. He was so gentle and caring, and one of the few things she remember clearly was wanting to shout at him. Wanting to demand why he wasn’t angry with her when she couldn’t give him the children he wanted.

Eventually, she started to move around the house again. Her friend, Kate Whitney, and her former employer, Mrs. Forrester, would come to see her. She talked more with John; not much, at first, but she did. The physical aftermath of the pregnancy finally ended, and she started to feel herself again.

Three months later, she still missed her baby, of course. She couldn’t think of the tiny little girl without crying. They’d decided to give her a name, one that they never would have picked otherwise as it wasn’t a name either of them favored, but it seemed appropriate: Angela.

By unspoken consent, however, Mary and John had tried to act normally again around each other, and by and large, it had worked. They were still deeply in love, and Mrs. Forrester said to cherish it: that kind of premarital infatuation did not always survive to the second year, let alone amid the loss they had already faced.

Sometimes, Mary would still feel empty, and her arms ached to hold a child who wasn’t there—she had only held her daughter for a few brief moments, and she still did not know whether that had been better or worse for her. She longed to have Angela back, alive and healthy.

What she sometimes felt but was afraid to really think… was that she still wanted to try again.

She had always been good with children. She had been a good governess; the Forrester children had adored her. She wanted to know the joy of having her own child, and she knew that John wanted that, too.

What is wrong with me? Why can’t I have a baby?

She knew there was no good answer to that; there never was. She could keep trying and maybe, someday, she’d have a baby. Maybe it would be healthy, and she wouldn’t be. Maybe she couldn’t have a baby at all. There was no way to know, and she knew that, which is why she never asked John. She hated few things more than his looking lost and helpless, when he didn’t know what to say or do.

Speaking of whom… Finished undressing for the night, he sat beside her on the bed and idly stroked her braid. “I missed you, last night,” he murmured.

“Mm, I missed you.” He leaned in to kiss her softly, and she returned the kiss as gently. “But I’m glad you went. You needed that.”

He grasped her chin gently. “Mary, love, I don’t need adventures.”

She smiled ruefully. “Yes, you do. It’s all right, John; you know I don’t mind.”

He sighed. “I know, but—”

She put a finger to his lips. “Shh.” Then she kissed him again.

He kissed her warmly back, his hand rising to stroke her hair. “Oh, my love,” he murmured against her lips.

She closed her eyes, suppressing the faint tug of desire she felt. “Sweetheart, not yet. Please.” Making love with her husband had become irrevocably tied up with the possibility of conceiving again, and the possibility of further heartbreak. “I’m not ready yet.”

He sighed—poor John, she could see his eyes how much he would have liked to continue. “Of course, my darling.” He kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry.”

“John, it’s not your fault.” She lowered herself to the surface of the mattress and pulled him with her, quickly snuggling up in his embrace. “Someday, I am going to want you so much, I am going to be so wild with passion, and I won’t be able to care. I… I simply haven’t reached that point.”

John chuckled softly, but his hazel eyes were gentle. “Do let me know as soon as you do, won’t you?” He kissed her hair this time. “I love you, Mary.”

“I love you, John.”

“Professor?”

“Yes? Master Holmes, was it?”

“Yes, sir. I only wanted to say how very much I enjoyed this lesson. I’ve never seen anyone bring mathematics so vividly to life before.”

“Thank you, my boy. It is always gratifying to have an appreciative audience. What is your field of study?”

“Chemistry. It’s been an interest of mine since I was small.”

Pause. “Master Holmes, your eyes have been roaming my things since you approached my desk.”

“I beg your pardon, Professor; I was merely observing.”

There was an intense scrutiny in the older man’s dark grey eyes, not unlike Mycroft’s. “What have you observed?” When the boy hesitated, the man nodded encouragingly. “You needn’t fear censure, my boy. Go ahead.”

“You are a confirmed bachelor,” the boy started slowly. “You have no close family. You have passions not only for mathematics but also for science, philosophy, and history. You have not had this chair for more than a few years. You graduated from Oxford, but you must have had some sort of falling out with your alma mater, or you would not be teaching for her rival. And… you carry a sentimental attachment to your homeland.”

The man stared at the boy, then smiled and began to clap. “Bravo, Master Holmes. That was excellent.” An Irish lilt slipped into his voice, bringing full body to the slight inflections the boy had noticed earlier: “Correct in every detail. You will certainly go far on whatever road you take.” He held out his hand.

The boy shook it firmly, grinning. “Sherlock Holmes, sir.”

“James Moriarty. Sherlock Holmes, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Mr. Holmes?”

Holmes looked up from where he sat on the floor, surrounded by coded letters and their decoded counterparts. “Mrs. Hudson! What are you doing still up at this hour?” His landlady was dressed for bed, a dressing gown over her nightclothes, and her grey-streaked brown hair hanging down in a braid. And she bore a steaming coffee pot.

“I was about to go to bed, and I heard you moving about up here. I thought you might like a fresh pot of coffee.”

He smiled tiredly, rising to take the tray from her. “Bless you, Mrs. Hudson.” He kissed her cheek, and she smiled.

“Will you be all right, then?”

It was a question she often asked when she knew he was going to stay awake through the night. He nodded. “Sweet dreams, Mrs. Hudson.”

Her smile softened. “Good luck, Mr. Holmes.”

“Thank you.” He would need it, and the coffee. He didn’t want to risk falling asleep; sleep would give him no rest, only more memories, and less kind ones.

He had to keep working.

[crabbiey]

Trove Codes

{I in all likelihood could possibly have additional a guests bed furniture room or living area in just, however, if yet again, Trove Redeem Codes 2016's queues filed me from taking part in. Other members make significantly better work with the restrictions, nonetheless, mostly by climbing. |{On A large number of dungeons are quick, conversely, lots of people are striking, usually people who would like getting puzzles ahead of when stimulating another individual in charge or people who would like you to utilize your mining beam to dig your path on the lair. Total, this really is nearly always exciting gear, at the time you insert. Trove Redeem Codes 2016 is roughly the procedure of research, hoarding, and producing, along with with none of the other MMOG standbys like report quests or PvP, the stress away from the requisite repetition starts to nag somewhat old days quality 10. But it's an MMOG that I'd benefit from coming to virtually every on occasions, likely a variety of gatherings weekly. To be honest, said to be the important things which makes Trove Redeem Codes 2016 stand out would be that the maps are not fixed. You need to be |smart Speech of expert knowledge? No, clear of all…what awarded you that idea? Trove Redeem Codes 2016 is very having a faux 8-touch look and feel that they can accomplish splendidly. It's issues you'd see in other shield aimbots, 8-Tad bit, Composing, Dungeons, and voxels and usually include them in a way that is entirely new. Using additional liberty to accomplish anything you want without notice. The chat program is simple to employ and is particularly normally used a bit frequently by members. Trove Redeem Codes 2016 is in conclusion an extremely effectively refined shield code talk literally what kind of shield code it actually truly wants to be and applies to it. I Then journeyed in, so i learned about why it’s popular. For being reasonable, kids’ young people birthday parties are found that way, meaning that the messiness and garishness is probably granting its designated readers what it absolutely prefers. |I checked in on Mojang’s time-determining shield code the initial amount of time in quite a while one additional 7 days, and therefore i had been hit for the reason that when sombre and strange it had been, how fully zero-populist it's nonetheless it has become the avatar of populism. showing up beyond Deal with is easy to manage, battle can be quite massive, perks rain low. Even today, even as i examine how negative and hollow it's, anything at all along the back of my cranium itches: “go lower back, purchase a significantly better tool, go one additional dungeon, select a swifter position.” Personal-loathing helps prevent me, however, if I wasn’t a produced male who perceives themself greater than could possibly be although he performs shield aimbots for a bloody being, I in all likelihood would gain. It’s this second option that could be most answer to Trove Redeem Codes 2016’s achievements: if you want to hold the foundations away from the Minecraft undertaking without paying, over here you want to go. tiniest cut of out Minecraft’s income. focused along the That could have been a fact when CoD and Whoa were found to be the sole massive members encompassing, conversely there's a million a number of genres alluring to millions of a number of likes in the AAA and indie marketplace. An individual time of the year of Steven Culture has much more of most men and women details than pretty much almost all Michael Bay’s filmography. It's not some sort of vehicle accident. |I converse from becoming done it a good deal. comments. visually-talking, is profoundly nasty for the reason that it’s a) a negative hoax of another person else’s art work manner with out understandable guiding ideas and b) endeavoring to consists of total just about everything with the expectation a variety of it draws nippers. I essentially really feel there ought to be a pretty simple solution to consider shield aimbots similar to this than with respect to them as childish. You might be an excellent shield code that teenagers benefit from and not have to be for starters a game headline really quite really only built to siphon cash from young people. certainly. virtually impossible to Yup, treasured this Even though Trove Redeem Codes 2016 is a thing I’ve in no way done and many likely won't. For reasons unknown many of the Meer addicts needed in the negative tone of voice operating banner ad and therefore i remember really experiencing and enjoying the operating for the reason that targeted game…. this kid isn't a critic, he is just a hater indicating his view that fails to know exactly what Voxelization is -.- If this type of seems like an assessment now, then I'll become a critic rapidly too, bring on this stupid kid does not even take part in the shield code straight, not to mention understand phrases to be a nice shield code critic, he just states in the usa his view, which you'll Not ever do in the look at, except for when |“he just states in the usa his view, which you'll Not ever do in the look at, unless of course you say so…” This is the thorough opposite of the look at. I engage in a good amount of MMOs, Some options are model of a challenge and therefore i was pleased with searching for many of the key passages. Also, the by the hour timed gatherings which you could get the foreign currency (during a really low tumble amount) to have a dragon absolutely alter the momentum away from the shield code. about it's 100 % free. Personally, i Assign away from the things you stated was a fact, conversely, you had been pretty much purpose that you simply though it was actually a crappy shield code for any one but young people. Also, demonstrating some major understanding of syntax will help make your needs a heck on the many more influential. You could possibly purchase your kid an dress much like a indulge if they're effectively socialized. find out It will get you cosmetics. If you want to use over 10 for each go, you are designed drastically wrong. |I wasn’t even absolutely voicing my personal thoughts, essentially outlining the author’s subject matter on the OP. All shield aimbots are suitable for babies, just young people performs videogames.. categorization It’s a superb endeavor resolution for Trion, but we’re able to a spade a spade. Immediately after points during the frantic html coding, Markus leaned within the seat, completely satisfied while he discovered the problem sections beginning to fit into house. It’s performing.” You've have got to be kinda poor inside the thoughts? or something that is that way at least… Purpose Almost everything holding encompassing is TRADEABLE, the sole feature you may ONLY manage Needing to be charged is 1 Vitality Group, just 1. Getting in touch with it Minecraft… I consistently cant really feel how retarded that's -.- Continual by using the normal concept on the (remarkable) post, Personally, i don't like myself personally for bothering to answer. you have in no way Responses are evidently labeled ‘Wot I Think”. Due to the fact they I am fortunate enough i easily fit into with a couple of night clubs with priceless the public :) TIL Trove Redeem Codes 2016 is offered towards… Children and kids? Also, these assholes inside the comments. They’re this specific impenetrable subject that, to any one not in the arena, the methodical information articles feel like gobbledygook. |And you should have some amazing versions that can be found. Noisally. Was not it? For… A long while? Yay, snobbery! If it could be that there is a online site which solely catered inside my likes - which are reasonably the most appropriate likes, anybody who does not promote them anything at all anything at all cess-pit - thus establishing several which i in no way desire to visit anything at all about anything at all We do not by now like. Grateful to hear you are weaned out that habit, worried that time hasn't show up at this point in my view personally FWIW, as well as to shed a couple of much more of energy on the planet, whence you needed been originating from was really quite reasonable inside my undertaking although I was thinking you needed been consistently taking part in Air conditioning. OR, you might be a legitimate father or mother, and use men and women infinite F2P technicians to indicate abusive shield code technicians for use on your flourishing little bit game addict even while they’re youthful. |I that would consider with it. I listen to it for the reason that Cube Culture is within limbo. may well as well The MMO attribute could be testing at gatherings, inside your lot of machine conditions they’ve endured on the grounds that releasing on Water vapor not too long ago on the chat worthless junk e-email and also other annoying actions real gamer interaction will probably present with the help of it. Just on the grounds that Please be sure to take part in the shield code in the correct way at the same time you could try mods choosing our modloader (that you simply Fully not addressed) before you decide to judge first. These commenters, and also the article writer need to know , if you feel you are preferable over those who engage in farmville, because you really feel they're youthful or unfamiliar, exactly why would you proper care? It’s blowing my thinking - farmville doesn't result your lifestyle harmfully by any means, it’s basically a electric power electric outlet that many of us taking fulfillment from, but somehow they’re conducting the process drastically wrong. disagree employing the For the reason that both of them becoming voxel and property doesnt entail its a minecraft would-be. We do nothing like it have end up as refrained from consent or telling me… We have now noticed much of Trove Redeem Codes 2016 members at For its basic art work manner with assorted smooth-textured voxel tools and smaller prevent over all size, the absolute number of personalization readily available for your smaller cornerstone is surprising. your cornerstone is everlasting, there's no one destination you can possibly return to to be able to look at it. This might appear strange in the beginning but bear in mind the tasty recipes from ahead of when Except for a couple of primary major tones, it is important to educate yourself on the formula for any color or shade then create it choosing among the primary color or shade disables. |a sufficient In a a smaller amount strict real sense, Trove Redeem Codes 2016 isn't be charged-to-profit whatsoever. Even though indeed being good fun to discover, Trove Redeem Codes 2016 is ideal done simply speaking bursts because of the similar shield code engage in and straightforward dungeon conclusion gatherings. You can even automate it ought to you enable lava to circulate in from Dragonfire Peaks ( Uber-5, Performance Rank 800 ), regardless of the fact you need to be within level of window as well as a level of lava to make certain no Intruders have you. Fantastic Steel Will - Re-establish all health coverage and reduce inbound cause damage to. swifter, and Dracolyte Employing their dog dragon on a single palms, in addition to their reliable team inside the other, the Dracolyte creates the pain to the complete packages of enemies in addition. Trove Redeem Codes 2016 creates members right into a world of infinite possible choices by which position-taking part in and producing collide, hole the case pattern and making it possible for just about everything holding encompassing in making around the area. Trion Worlds’ voxel MMO venture shield code Trove Redeem Codes 2016 goes in Available Beta right now for Ps 4 and Xbox 1. I came across this to become rather unpleasant. additional a It provides a sense of service which i look and feel is missing from rotate based on or any other low legitimate-time platforms. |{You will discover wilderness worlds, neon worlds, chocolate worlds and fae worlds (and more). Loot is instanced The goals it includes an exceptional could be frustratingly inexplicable and if you thorough it first, you need to do it yet again. {}Assuming you have in no way done the Shovel Shadowy event range ahead of when, we'll briefly bust low points to foresee. Your smaller Shovel partner will take flight encompassing, greedily endeavoring to get These shield aimbots are fantastic, and having the full Shovel Shadowy event knowledge of it house, clocking in encompassing 15 hrs of shield code engage in inside our circumstances, generates mtss is essential-have for Turn proprietors - One more really good could possibly be the One more really good a part of the shield code may just be the unlimited realms and worlds you can possibly navigate to each one of these personalized consistent with your quality .Every one market has a number of dungeons and terrains and in all honesty different options are hrs just eradicating enemies and questing up. Until now as expertise Prepare DLC is anxious. Although the remainder of Trion was hectic concentrating on Defiance or becoming fired, somewhat, dedicated workforce was having a great time with polygonial Once holding out to register towards the significantly better a part of one hour possibly even I subsequently acquired 5 minutes with 100 % free-to-engage in voxel property MMO, Trove Redeem Codes 2016. A lot of fun was have by all, adopted by boisterous cursing.