#not sorry for this post. feast your eyes upon my eye crime

[gayvampyr]

god gives the hurtiest tummies to his most anxious meow meows

[moraygrotto]

ok i would usually append this to the post i made publishing this ask from a while ago, but the tumblr app is being very unkind to me so i'm gonna try making a new one =_=

anyway mini fic!!! based on anon's stellar idea above

~💜~

Deuce slumped back in the leather booth, letting out a long "Hnnnnnnf~" of a sigh. He was bigger than Epel, and hence should have been better off, but it was visible how much he had eaten. His belly was pudged further out beneath his T-shirt than it was when the pair arrived at the diner, and Epel could hear each of his shallow breaths. Charming as he never failed to be, Deuce also got sleepy when he ate well.

Epel leaned his elbows on the table, looking upon the remains of their shared feast. Crumpled, oil-stained paper sat atop skeletal french fry trays. A depleted puddle of ketchup was congealing atop his plate, which was otherwise empty save for crumbs. A clean-scraped soup bowl sat at the summit of a stack of dishes, and clear cups stood majestically all around: four were drained of soda, and two were emptied of all the milkshake they had once contained.

Epel, into whom about half the spread had vanished, felt ready to burst in the best possible way. "We cleaned that lunch right up, huh, Deuce?"

Deuce blinked slowly. "Totally," he said. "We were both hungry, I guess."

Epel swirled a straw around in the melting ice of his soda glass. "Helps to have someone you don't mind eatin' around, too. Like, really eatin'; you know?"

When Epel looked back up, Deuce was blushing. "I know," he replied, and as he gave a little chuckle, his mouth popped open, and a euphonic little burp burst out of him. "Oh my god," he said, immediately looking around. At this time of day, they were alone in the diner, and their waitress was in the kitchen. Deuce's stomach gurgled in the aftermath.

Finally, his eyes fell upon Epel. "I am so sorry," he said faintly, not an ounce of his prior sleepiness about him.

A flicker of competitiveness rose up within Epel, the dire need to teach him a lesson for thinking of him that way, like someone who wasn't gross as anyone else. He just as quickly quashed the feeling. Deuce looked so sheepish; Epel couldn't be mad.

Instead, he swallowed, straightened up, and gave his chest a thump.

Like a monster smashing free from a cage, a loud and rough belch thundered up out of Epel. As it echoed off the chrome-lined ceiling, he rubbed his chest, sighed, and smiled at Deuce. "Still sorry?"

Deuce's eyes were wide, and he sat stock-still. "Have I... never heard you burp before, Epel?"

"Mmgrp—Guess not," Epel said through the low gurgling of an afterburp.

"I don't know what to say," said Deuce.

"You don't have to say anything. I know I'm pretty good. Here—" He took a dry slurp at the dregs of his soda, feeling the air from the straw mingle with the cool drops of liquid down his throat. With one press to his full tummy, another burp spilled out of him, this one brassy, long, and powerful. Afterwards, his mouth tasted like his meal— part of that burp had come from deep inside him.

Grinning, Epel let out a contented breath. "Maybe if I keep goin', I'll have room for dessert~"

Deuce's eyes were darting around, but he was still blushing hotly. "Epel, we are technically in public..."

Epel took another slurp. "Yeah? So?"

"I mean..."

"Gurp—Why's the public so important, anyway? It feels good, and it ain't hurtin' anybody. I'm gonna keep burping all I want until somebody tells me to stop." He raised a playful eyebrow. "Are you tellin' me to stop, Deuce?"

"No!" Deuce blurted at once. "Honestly, I think that'd be a crime," he said more quietly. "Your burps are amazing."

Little conquest complete, Epel relaxed, leaned over, jabbed his straw into the melted ice of Deuce's soda glass, and slurped it dry in one suck. The liquid added pressure to his already packed belly, which drew his attention to a bubble of air he could feel gathering deep within him.

He squeezed his stomach muscles, shifted in his chair, and drew the burp up in one strident expulsion of air. He let his eyes fall shut as it burst out of him, rumbling through all his belly, chest, and throat like a massage.

As his stomach settled, he felt light, freed from a tight pressure he had barely noticed was bloating him up. He gave his belly a slap of contentment, then ran a hand through his bangs as he looked up at Deuce. "'Scuse me," he said.

Deuce had conceded to rub at his own tummy with one hand. "Can— Can I ask how you burp like that?" he stuttered.

Epel raised his eyebrows. "Same way you do, I reckon."

"I mean, so huge—"

"Heh, thank you." Epel wiped his mouth with a napkin, which somehow managed to jar another burp from him. "I know you mean that 'cause I'm so little, but I'll take it as a compliment."

Deuce took his fork, and squished a sesame seed from Epel's plate between the cleft of two tines, "Would you take offense if I said your burps were cute?" he said softly.

"No, but only 'cause it's you sayin' it." Epel gave his belly a probing squish. Despite having eaten so much, the pies du jour in their glass case were looking delicious. While Deuce still looked like he wanted to curl up somewhere and digest for a while, Epel wasn't sure he could abandon the desire for something sweet now that it had crossed his mind.

"Say, Deuce," he said, and picked at a corner of his paper placemat. "You don't have any room needs clearin' out in your belly, do you?"

[hannibal-obsessed]

Why Not Spend Your Lock-Down with Dr. Hannibal Lecter?

By Shannon L. Christie

You are cordially invited to spend your lock-down, dining in the company of Dr. Hannibal Lecter.

Menu

Reception

Dr. Hannibal Lecter is one of thee most iconic fictional literary villains, created in the 20th Century; Hollywood films has cemented his iconic status and his transformation into the 21st Century, via network television, has been carefully crafted under the watchful eye of executive producer, Martha De Laurentiis.

Hannibal Lecter sprang from the mind of novelist Thomas Harris; Lecter has been in our lives for almost 40 years; introduced with the publication of Red Dragon in October 1981; he has never left our consciousness for too long.

So where does one start?

Do you read the 4 novels, watch the 5 movies or the TV Series?

Do I start at the beginning with Harris's novel, Red Dragon?

There are several ways to feast upon Hannibal Lecter: read Harris' novels first: watch the movies and then dine on the TV Series; read the novels, watch the corresponding movies and then the TV Series; watch the TV Series and then go back, watch the movies and read the novels. Whatever way you decide, you will not be disappointed at the end of your feast!

The following menu outline would be my suggestion for how to feast upon the sumptuous offerings of Dr. Hannibal Lecter.

Amuse-bouche

In this course we are served small bit-sized morsels of Dr. Hannibal Lecter.

Red Dragon: Thomas Harris, 1981

Will Graham, a former FBI Special Agent with an instinct for profiling, is sucked back into consulting for the FBI on their latest serial murder case; involving the Tooth Fairy. Will's been living a quiet life in Florida with his wife and son, when his former boss, Jack Crawford visits, enticing Graham back into the game. In order to get that old scent back; Graham needs to get into the mindset of a killer, so he visits Dr. Hannibal Lecter at The Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, where Lecter is serving 9 consecutive life terms for murder. Graham was the FBI Agent who finally caught Hannibal and it almost cost him his life and sanity.

Interesting Fact: Harris attended portions of Ted Bundy's trial for the Chi Omega Murders in Florida. The Prosecutors in the Bundy trial used bite marks left on one of his victims as evidence. Dolarhyde left bite marks on Mrs. Leeds, which allowed forensics to create dental impressions, creating a sample of Dolarhyde's teeth.

Manhunter: Directed by Michael Mann, 1986

Manhunter was written and directed by Michael Mann; starring William Petersen (Will Graham), Dennis Farina (Jack Crawford), Tom Noonan (Francis Dollarhyde, film spelling/Red Dragon/Tooth Fairy), Joan Allen (Reba McClane) Brian Cox (Hannibal Lecktor, film spelling).

Manhunter is now considered a cult classic; at the time of it's original release it fared poorly at the box office and met with mixed reviews. It's cult status may be partially due to the continuing saga of Hannibal Lecter and William Petersen's success in CSI. The film touches on many of the important elements of the novel and also misses on quite a few. What is Dolarhyde's motive? The movie is dated with a definite 80's Michael Mann vibe; in spite of that it is definitely worth a watch for Noonan's performance.

Interesting Fact: Film Producer Dino De Laurentiis purchased the movie rights to the novel Red Dragon in 1983.

Red Dragon: Directed by Brett Ratner, 2002

This is where I'll skip ahead and talk about Manhunter's remake, Red Dragon. You can either choose to watch Red Dragon here or move it to after Hannibal to watch in order of release – entirely up to you.

Dino De Laurentiis passed on the movie rights to The Silence of the Lamb, due to the poor showing of Manhunter at the box office. So when The Silence of the Lambs was critically acclaimed by the critics; a huge box office success; winning the top 5 categories at the 1992 Oscars; Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor, Best Actress and Best Adapted Screenplay – Dino wanted another serving of Hannibal Lecter.

When Harris released his third Lecter novel, simply titled Hannibal, Dino De Laurentiis picked up the rights and saw this as an opportunity to remake Manhunter, this time using the book title, Red Dragon, especially considering the success of Anthony Hopkins as Hannibal Lecter. In fact, Red Dragon was released in theatres a year after Hannibal.

Lecter's role was beefed up with a few added scenes; Lecter enjoying the symphony with the exception of the violinist; experiencing one of Lecter's sinfully delicious dinner parties of the music council with the violinist as the main course; seeing the tete-a-tete played out between Lecter and Graham (Edward Norton) that nearly cost them both their lives.

Dolarhyde's (Ralph Fiennes) abusive childhood is explored, the motivation for his heinous crimes against families. We see more of the relationship between Dolarhyde and Reba (Emily Watson) and Dolarhyde's struggle to keep the monster at bay. Ted Tally wrote the screenplay (he wrote The Silence of the Lambs screenplay and passed on the Hannibal screenplay); he has a great sense of what is essential to the narration of a well conceived movie, without loosing too much of the original story told by Thomas Harris.

I am partial to Red Dragon over Manhunter for that reason; I love Ralph Feinnes portrayal of Dolarhyde; he's creepy without being overtly creepy like Noonan is in Manhunter. Anthony Hopkins plays Hannibal Lecter beautifully as he always does. There are a few flaws in this version though, namely Edward Norton's portrayal of Will Graham. I love Norton – I just think he was wrong for the part and the bleached blonde hair drove me mad. I also have issue with Harvey Keitel as Jack Crawford, I just didn't get an FBI Special Agent in charge of the Behavioral Science Unit vibe from him. Keitel is the guy you bring in to rough up your suspect. On the plus side, the crime scenes are more graphic than in Manhunter, which I feel is essential to understanding the severity of the need to capture this fiend, because now he has a taste for it and he will not stop!

Interesting Fact: Dino De Laurentiis had to make a deal with MGM, so the shot of The Baltimore State Hospital building used in The Silence of the Lambs, could be used in Red Dragon, as the building had been demolished.

Dinner

Appetizer

In this course we are treated to petite, rich tasty morsels of Hannibal Lecter,

both of the hot and cold variety.

The Silence of the Lambs: Thomas Harris, 1988

The follow up novel to Red Dragon, Harris' third novel, Lecter was not a character Harris intended to use; he just showed up one day as Harris wrote. The Silence of the Lambs was the story of a young female FBI agent in training; female agents were a relatively new concept at Quantico. J. Edgar Hoover had died in 1972 and the FBI slowly started to drag itself into the modern age and out of the Mafia/Prohibition dark ages that it was founded on. Harris' story of Clarice Starling was an exploration of an agent in training along with a manhunt, headed by Jack Crawford, for a serial killer, only known as “Buffalo Bill”; who abducted girls, held them hostage for a few days; shot them in the heads, dumped their bodies in rivers; having partially skinned them post mortem. The FBI is stumped, they have no motive, no pattern and no connections between the victims. What should they do? Crawford sends Clarice Starling, an agent in training to interview Dr. Hannibal Lecter.

The Silence of the Lambs: Directed by Jonathan Demme, 1991

As I previously mentioned, Dino de Laurentiis passed on acquiring the movie rights for The Silence of the Lambs; the rights ended up in the hands of Demme and Orion Films, without a fee paid to De Laurentiis. The screenplay was written by Ted Tally, who managed to highlight all the important aspects of the novel, creating a balanced story. The movie starred Jodie Foster (Clarice Starling), Glenn Scott (Jack Crawford), Anthony Heald (Dr, Frederick Chilton), Ted Levine (Jame Gumb/Buffalo Bill) and Anthony Hopkins (Hannibal Lecter),

Interesting Fact: Anthony Hopkins on screen performance of Hannibal Lecter, consisting of only sixteen minutes earned him an Oscar for Best Actor in 1992.

Entree

This course is a hearty and meaty dish of Hannibal Lecter, served with delicate red sauce.

Hannibal: Thomas Harris, 1999

Would Harris write another Lecter novel? As we eagerly waited to see – making us wait 10 long years, Harris' reward was Hannibal; a story centred around Dr. Hannibal Lecter. I think many people weren't prepared for the monster to be uncaged. It was bloodier and gorier than the previous two films and quite sadistic. Manhunter and The Silence of the Lambs were considered psychological thrillers with a dollop of horror. Hannibal was a full on horror novel with a dollop of psychological thriller. Dr. Hannibal Lecter was free of his cage, just in-time for the new millennium and some readers were not happy.

When the novel, Hannibal, was released, many critics and readers were appalled by the goriness of it (we are talking about a man who kills people and eats them). I guess once the layers of the onion were peeled away; culture, music, art, culinary skills, courteousness – they were horrified by the monster at the centre – that was the point. Serial killers show society a veneer of acceptable personality traits; they keep the monster hidden away, until he breaks through and comes out to play. In that sense, the novel Hannibal, is spot on. He's your neighbour, your friend, your husband, your father, your brother and sometimes your son (The majority of serial killers are male, sorry guys). He wears a symbolic mask in public, to prevent you from guessing how sick and perverted he truly is.

Harris' novel, Hannibal, was the perfect GOTCHA moment! Harris had led us into a false sense of security; either intentionally or unintentionally, with Lecter's intro in Red Dragon; sure he tells Francis Dolarhyde to kill Graham's family – In The Silence of the Lamb; Lecter is so helpful trying to advance Clarice Starling's career; sure he kills several people while escaping from custody; we'll just chalk that up to acceptable carnage.

We start to rationalize that Lecter can't be all bad; he must have some redeeming qualities: he's a man of sophisticated tastes; he's knowledgeable; an incredible chef; a great musician and artist. We don't even mind knowing that he dined on Dr. Chilton, upon his escape; possibly thinking Chilton had it coming.

Harris let us peek briefly behind the curtain in Red Dragon and The Silence of the Lambs and perhaps Harris was dismayed to learn that upon the popularity of Hopkins portrayal of Hannibal Lecter; he'd become a pop culture icon and somewhat of a hero. Hannibal shattered that illusion.

We find Clarice Starling, 10 years later, working as an FBI Special Agent, in a stagnate career. She can't advance; being blocked by Paul Krendler.

Hannibal has been living in Florence as the curator of the Palazzo Capponi as Dr. Norman Fell (the real Dr. Fell disappeared under mysterious circumstances). Florence, Italy, the ideal spot for Lecter, a true Renaissance man. We discover there has been a string of murders by the fiend, know as Il Mostro.

Meanwhile, Mason Verger, Lecter's 4th victim, is on the hunt for Dr. Lecter, who left Mason disfigured, although technically by Mason's own hand. Verger has offered a $3,000,000 reward for information leading to the capture of Dr. Hannibal Lecter.

Interesting Fact: Thomas Harris attended the trial of The Monster of Florence, Pietro Pacciani, in 1994, incorporating some of the aspects of the crimes into his Hannibal novel and hinting that Hannibal himself was Il Mostro (The Monster of Florence).

Hannibal: Directed by Ridley Scott, 2001

If some readers were unhappy with the novel, there were those unhappy about the production of a movie in the same vain. Ted Tally didn't want to write the screenplay, Foster didn't want to reprise her role as Starling and Demme wasn't interested in directing. The consensus was it was too graphic and gory and they wanted no part of it; a complete turnaround; they initially were chomping at the bit to be involved in the follow-up to The Silence of the Lambs.

Interesting Fact: Dino De Laurentiis was under the impression that given a good story even he could play Clarice Starling.

The extra dinner course you never needed; you were already full.

Hannibal Rising: Thomas Harris, 2006

From all accounts that I've read, Harris was gently coerced into writing Hannibal Rising. Dino De Laurentiis wanted an origin story to turn into a film and he'd do it with or without Harris. Harris eventually caved and produced the fourth Lecter novel, Hannibal Rising.

Harris uses the hardships of WWII as the starting backdrop for the development of young Lecter's transformation into “Hannibal the Cannibal”. This is perhaps a story that never needed to be told. We were given glimpses in the novel Hannibal that never made it into the movie and perhaps that was a mistake; not seeing the humanity in Hannibal before events unfolded to create a monster and he is a monster, however refined his tastes are. It would have made a good contrast to the harshness of Lecter's grotesque and sadistic actions in Hannibal; that's where a good screenplay, might have made a difference. Francis Dolarhyde, Jame Gumb and Hannibal Lecter weren't born evil, they were shaped and moulded by their harsh experiences as young, innocent, impressionable children. Monsters aren't born, they are made – the moral of the stories. The difference being Hannibal always took responsibility for his actions, never placing the blame at someone else’s feet.

Hannibal Rising: Directed by Peter Webber, 2007

This time Harris would be involved, writing the screenplay for the Hannibal Rising movie. While I enjoyed Gaspard Ulliel as a young Hannibal, I felt that the story was unnecessary.

And just when you thought that was all and Hannibal Lecter's story had been narrated from beginning to end; Lecter was resurrected in 2013 for Bryan Fuller's TV Series, titled Hannibal, for three seasons on NBC.

Dessert

A delicate balance of psychiatry, culinary skills, food porn, relationships, sex, beauty, horror

and murder tableaus, like the layers of a sinful Double Chocolate Torte.

Hannibal TV Series: Developed by Bryan Fuller, 2013-2015

I know what you're going to say; there's no way I'm watching a Hannibal TV show without Hopkins on NBC! Whether your a Cox fan or a Hopkins fan; they both played the part in their own style and both performances are top notch. Hopkins had a little more to sink his teeth into with The Silence of the Lambs; as the screen time was slightly longer than in Manhunter.

I was stubborn too! I didn't watch Hannibal during the originally airing for season one or two. I remember catching a glimpse of an episode as I was on my way out to photograph a band; I was a live music photographer for around three years, so many of my Friday nights were spent in Toronto. It was the episode with the horse and the coffin-birth, which ultimately left an impression. So in January 2015 I binge watched season one and two (26 episodes) in only two days; I couldn't stop watching!

There's been a string of missing girls attributed to one person, known as “The Minnesota Shrike” and the FBI are struggling for leads. Upon the eighth girls disappearance, Jack Crawford (Laurence Fishburne) walks into Will Graham's (Hugh Dancy) classroom to request his help. Graham has the unique ability to empathize with narcissits and sociopaths and as he states, it has less to do with a personality disorder and more to do with an active imagination. Dr. Bloom expresses her concerns to Jack Crawford about using Will Graham for his special gifts and recommends keeping an eye on him; suggesting a colleague of hers, Dr. Hannibal Lecter.

Bryan Fuller's adaption uses Red Dragon as the main source material, with additional material from Hannibal and Hannibal Rising; expanding characters stories and switching some genders to give it a less male dominated cast. Characters like Margot Verger, who were left out of the Hannibal movie are slotted back in to give the Mason Verger story more substance. Cordell, Verger's valet and cook, is far cheekier in the TV series. Dr. Alan Bloom is transformed into Dr. Alana Bloom and Freddy Lounds, once played by the amazing Philip Seymour Hoffman becomes Freddie Lounds played by Lara Jean Chorostecki, who plays her less sleazy and yet still despicable.

Interesting Fact: Bryan Fuller incorporated some of the forward written by Harris in Red Dragon about his experience writing the novel.

Whipped Fresh Creme & a Cherry On-top!

Hannibal Fan Fiction

Season 3 of Hannibal ends on a cliff hanger and unfortunately NBC cancelled the show without a resolution. Not to worry, there is a buffet of Hannibal Fan Fiction out there for you to sink your teeth into. Hannibal fan fiction spans the spectrum of General Audience to NC-17 to pornographic; there is something to suit everyone's taste. If you don't find anything pleasing; you can always write your own fan fiction!

Interesting Fact: Some of the cast members have read Hannibal fan fiction.

Hannibal Fan Art

The amazing thing about the Hannibal fandom, whether you're old school or new school; there is incredible artwork to explore created by incredibly talented artists.

Interesting Fact: Bryan Fuller and the De Laurentiis Company are not dicks about copyright infringement, when it comes to fan art and fan fiction.

Hannibal Conventions

Red Dragon Con by Starfury: An all Hannibal Con in London, England.

Fannibal Fest: An all Hannibal Con with location tours in Toronto, Canada.

Sofa-Con by Fannibal Fest: Due to the lock-down situation around the world because of Covid-19 all conventions were cancelled in 2020. Fannibal Fest set of some Zoom meetings with guests that starred or worked on Hannibal.

There are several Hannibal fandom groups all over different parts of the world; who meat-up to dine and discuss their favourite topic, Hannibal. I am part of a GTA Fannibal group that centres around Toronto, Canada and we’ve met several times.

So, as we finish our dining experience with Dr. Hannibal Lecter; we'll eagerly anticipate another invitation to Lecter's dinner table, as a guest or if you're unspeakably rude, perhaps you'll be the main course; either way I'll meet or eat you there!

Shannon L. Christie

aka Hannibal_Obsessed

[burnedbyshoto]

Shouto with a s/o that hates leaving her house. They only leave for food and other necessaries.

todoroki shouto x reader

warning: fluff

word count: 1,131

a/n: okay, so when i thought about this, it took me awhile to figure out where I wanted to take this. because it came down to whether or not shouto is a homebody… and to be fair, I still can’t decide on that. also if this was fluff, angst, whateverrrr LMAO but anyways, i hope you enjoy this anon!

y/f/f = your favorite flower

You enjoyed being home. Why was that such a crime?

Many people always suspected you had agoraphobia, or something similar to it, but the reality of things was that you just felt that the outside world wasn’t for you. You hated the rude people you were forced to interact at a socially acceptable way, you hated the way people pushed and shoved, and most importantly you hated the non-stop energy people alleged to have.

You enjoyed your house. The calmness of it, the tranquillity of being alone, the way you could practically crawl from room to room and never be touched, and above all mannerisms that were created because of you, not some impeding social expectation.

So you sat at home, laying down on the couch, a blanket thrown over your legs and a book tucked nicely in between your hands. You were waiting for some company to arrive, and you just wanted to relax before having to entertain.

Slowly flipping the page to your book, your eyes looked up to see the door open and close. In walked Shouto, with bags of groceries, and you smiled warmly as you stood up to help him out.

“You know, I was going to go get groceries today.” You say grabbing a bag from his hands as he closed the door behind him with his foot.

Shouto nods his head, giving you a ‘hello’ kiss as he walks off towards your kitchen, “I was already there, so I picked up what I knew you needed.” Shouto explains as the two of your silently unpacked the groceries.

You unpacked quickly, staring quite often at your boyfriend who looked like he wanted to say something, but just didn’t know how to put it. “Y/n?” He asked, his eyes focusing on the egg carton in his hands as he turned to stack them in the fridge.

“Yes?”

“I have a business party, for work, and I don’t like attending these events, and I know you hate leaving the house. But would you accompany me? For the night?” Shouto looked at you, unsure of what exactly your reaction was going to be.

You still, not sure whether it was something you were all too sure about, and you looked at him, “How long would it be?”

“Just a few hours, four tops.”

“Okay…”

Shouto looked at you with a grateful smile on his face as he walked over to you, pressing a soft kiss onto your cheek, “Thank you.”

You roll your eyes playfully as you bury your head into his chest, “You’re welcome.”

The next week, you found yourself carefully applying makeup to your face, and fixing yourself up into a formal dress that brought out the color of your e/c eyes, you puff your cheeks out slightly as you begin your mental preparation of meeting people. Something again, you didn’t mind but hated when it was in environments you could not control.

A knock on the door stole your attention, and you carefully pulled the mascara wand away from your face and pouted to your reflection. You were ready to go. You were doing this for Shouto, and throughout the week he had constantly reminded you that it was not going to be as horrible as you thought.

Walking to the knocking door, you opened it and came face to face with a newcomer.

Well, not a newcomer, it was the driver that Shouto had for work, and the confusion on your face was easily detectable by the driver.

“Todoroki-sama requested I come pick you up, y/l/n-sama, if you are ready it is best that we depart soon.” He said bowing at you in greeting. Returning the action you dumbly nodded, feeling bothered at the fact that Shouto was not even picking you up for his work event.

Throughout the relatively silent car ride, your eyes focused on your phone where you were texting Shouto, who was not responding.

Your eyes focused on the nearing building as the signal of the car echoed throughout the space, “And you can’t tell me anything?” You repeated for the nth time, your discomfort starting to bleed through your composure. “I just don’t think Shouto would make me arrive by myself.”

You watched as the driver stepped out of the door, and made his way around and opened your door. “I’m sorry, y/l/n-sama, but I can’t say anything. But let me escort you to the elevator, Todoroki-sama is expecting you up on the top floor.”

You followed complicity, a small frown on your face from the secretive vibe that was happening, and the fact that there were so many people gathered outside of Shouto’s business. Why did he have to be so skilled at his job?

You stood in the elevator, alone, and tried to relax as the instrumental music of the elevator seemed to be weakened through the sound of the machine working. The doors finally opened at the top floor, and you stepped out, your stomach tied into a knot at the possibility of crowds of people being here.

However, when you stepped out, you were shocked to find the room completely empty. Decorations were set up, but they were entirely intimate to you and Shouto. Colored streamers went around the room, a table entirely decorated for a fancy feast, a small dance floor, a mat that was filled with countless amounts of pillows and blankets, another table that held so many of your favorite snacks and desserts, and standing next to a projector with reeling photos and videos of the two of you was your boyfriend, Shouto.

“Happy late anniversary.” His voice seemed to echo from across the room as you watched him walk over to you, a single y/f/f in his hand.

Then the overall spirit of the event slammed into you like a truck as you began crying, tears rolling down your cheeks as you stood there. You sank to your knees as Shouto came crouching to your side, his hands around you instantly.

“I-I’m sorry,” He stutters obviously unsure of what he did wrong, “I missed our two years because of work, and Fuyumi said this was a great way to make it up. Was it because I lied about it being a business event? I just didn’t know how to–”

You threw your arms around him, and Shouto lost his balance as the two of you fell to the ground. The cries leaving your lips now mixing with uncontrollable happiness. 

“I love it, all of it.” You cry into Shouto’s chest and you feel his hand rubbing up and down your back. “I love you, so, so much.”

A kiss placed upon the crown of your head made your heart soar, and you heard him whisper back, “And I love you, so, so much more.”

and that’s it, im sorry my last few posts have been utter crap, but i really need to make a new schedule in terms of posting because i really do enjoy writing for you guys, and i dont want to be posting…ugly stories especially because all you cuties are requesting them and i dont wanna do you dirty. also sorry if i didn’t capture the essence of what you wanted, i was so at a lost of where to direct this, but the lovely @dvoz-writes helped me out with this idea, and she writes amazing things too!!! so yes thank her for me!!!! until next time

[spell406]

So, a friend of mine basically forced me to watch at least one episode of Netflix Castlevania.

(Disc - I am new to tumblr and had a little problems with posting this thing correctly. Sorry for spam)

So I watched one. And then another. And another… When I finished it was 3 a.m., my eyes were burned out, my brain fried, and my soul forever forfeited, but whatever, who need it anyway.

I am new to the universe, and I know that I am something like 10 months late to the review party, so instead I decided to just share a bunch of thoughts of mine. [UPDATE – Because I am extremely heavy procrastinator and it took me almost two weeks to write this thing I am already at 50% of SoTN right now I’ve finished SoTN by now]

First of all – Castlevania looks like anime, but shares almost nothing common with it. It was a relief, to be honest, as I was a little afraid of show being just another shounen with specific set of clichés and similarities that might quite not bad (or even enjoyable), but I’ve seen them too many times before – better or worse executed – to watch without a mild nausea another Bleach/Naruto in a darker scenario.

I would never demand a fantasy world to be realistic. Like, who would do, fantasy world is supposed to be… fantasy, right? I am fine with lack of realism but I can’t say the same about lack of common sense, and there is a matter of logic that I personally find quite funny. When you are about to fight in close quarters with someone, with both of you lives on stake you’ll want to use every possible advantage. In general there are two kinds of battle armors – first one is focused on providing maximum protection (like typical medieval plate armor) and second one designed to grant freedom of movement especially critical in usually legwork-heavy duels. And here are our “battle” priests in gowns. Gowns, that manage to provide neither aforementioned advantage and downsides of both. Heh. It just bothers me too much, honestly.

I really love the flow of narration; the way that every character including antagonists has its own set of motives and reasons, even Carmilla has her own background that is convicting to justify her bitchery (Well, she has seen it before, right? And Dracula wasn’t even trying to hide his apathy, so why would she like to watch as dead man wages his hollow war)(Is it only me or Dracula shows typical signs of severe depression? Apathy, lack of strength to take any decision, not taking care of himself, loss of interest – even in his own war – well, to be honest he has a good reason to do so).

Animations. Ah, that one is unquestionably excellent, although you Powerhouse Animation guys could have make use of an additional 4-5 fps – from time to time I had a feeling that there is a cat sitting on my keyboard’s space bar, pausing and starting show over and over - it happened something like two or three times. If it comes to favorite scenes – for me, it would be first meeting and fight between Trevor and Alucard. The dialogue and music is so good at reflecting rising pressure and tension between those two – let put oneself in Trevor’s boots – just day before he was rather concerned about getting some food/drink and move on and now he is standing against something that he now considers to be last boss of his life, or perhaps not, he doesn’t even know how does Dracula looks like and he doesn’t seem to be openly aggressive, or perhaps yes, he is obviously vampire and he seems to doesn’t like Belmont name, on the other hand even lesser vampire might be not so easy foe and he is kinda out of practice, and Sypha doesn’t feel like helping out, at least for now… It is all just perfect, and the sound track alone is stuff of legends. (Season 2 OST on Spotify WHEN??”)

Second best would be first phase of Dracula fight – the way which they are team working fluently to not let eachother get killed pleases my inner maniac in best possible way, although the 1 vs 1 part is kinda downgrade - but still ok.

But there is one thing that really stands out in best possible way from things I’ve seen before and that’s utilization of facial expression and body language. Like seriously, this combined with really outstanding voice acting bring interactions between characters to another damned level. (Unfortunately, national translation and voice acting is so awful that I couldn’t bear myself to finish even first season). There are few thing I consider more important in creating credible character than combining overall expressiveness and voice acting, the ability to tell words without actually using any (Finding Ciri cinematic in Witcher 3 is perhaps best known to me example) - and Castlevania does it just soooo good.

Dracula generals. When they were shown for the first time I was like “oh boy he has summoned generals, (Generals! Master tactician, the artists of war!) the oldest, most cunning and powerful beasts from entire world, now things are going to get rough.” And how did it turned out? I can understand that Dracula tasked his forge masters with overseeing the war (Although his reasoning was kind of ok, good job Dracula for nominating for executives two people, that knew least about proceeding war) Did they were incompetent so much? Then how did they managed to get their titles, if they were just a bunch of endlessly whining mischief-makers? They were supposed to know how war looks like, and how to do one, but instead they did literally nothing for war effort! If you ask me, that is at least one risen eyebrow. Excluding Godbrand, the only member of council that did anything more than grate his teeth in silent anger, killed some civilians and got taken care of quite effortlessly. Also, Godbrand wasn’t made to be the sharpest knife in a closet, but he still was bright enough to ask himself “What will we do when we’ll win a war?” Also, he managed to notice that there were no real plan to follow... That is +1 to you Godbrand, I’ll miss you my vikingy boi. In the end, if they were meant to be just a background, they did get a little too much of screen time, and if they were not, they got faaaaaar from enough of it.

By the way – not sure if it’s only me but I personally think that Trevor might be keenest (or – at least – not dumbest) of protagonist trio. He might lack classic education, but he is careful watcher (he noticed fresh oil in torch and overall state of Alucard’s hideout), he correctly chosen and quite successfully executed strategy at Gresit square (isolate, divide and destroy) and quite steadfastly shrugged  off Alucard bickering (well, most of times). Also, his plan for battle with vampire generals was quite logical – avoid close quarter cause humans are in general more fragile than vampires, and Alucard as frontline. My inner maniac was most pleased.

As I said before, I really enjoy Castlevania’s overall character design but with an exception of bishop of Gresit. There is no reason for his work, I know that he is insane and reasoning usually does not apply to those like him but I feel like there is no reason in villainy (this entire talking about making a God’s own country – well, I don’t buy it), aside of being genuinely baaaaad, which kinda stands out in negative way in comparison to the rest of characters.

To highlight the issue, lets do some roleplaying here:

The night creatures are ravaging the land that you had sworn to protect in unholy war against humanity, killing women, men even your subordinates alike. The citizens are growing restless, and demand taking an action. How do you proceed?

a) Find the last descendant of family known for their prowess in fighting those beasts; but be wary – he doesn’t seem to like you very much after you branded him as heretic, exterminated his entire family and burned down his home (probably with some of aforementioned family still inside it). However, if you nicely ask for help, reverse the curse, apology for making mistake and return the estate it actually might work. (to be honest that could be quite interesting moral choice for Trevor, to help people of Wallachia and let bishop take all glory or decline the bishop proposition and screw people over in the process)

b) You can fight them, you are the Holy Church after all. You have access to unlimited supply of holy water, relics, you have enough money and authority to arm and train people’s militia properly. Your knowledge of those beasts might be as wide as Belmont family, but at least should be sufficient to minimalize the damage. Killing the Dracula, however, might be impossible for you.

c) You spent most of your time on biting, trashing, or looking for anyone to cast entire blame upon; it doesn’t matter who is that poor bastard as long as it is not you. In addition, you…

AAAAARGH I CAN’T CONTAIN MYSELF ANY LONGER! BROTHER, I DON’T FEEL LIKE I AM   WICKED ENOUGH! I REQUIRE TO SEE SOME SUFFERING OF INNOCENT TO FEAST UPON! WHAT DO YOU SAY, BROTHER? I CANT HEAR YOU OVER RAGE BOILING IN MY VEINS! WHAT, SPEAKERS? OF COURSE THEY WILL DO RAAAAAARRGARGAJGIOGJIHKBYIUOL

Oh well.

Well, looks like I am done here. By the way, sorry for my English, I am not a native speaker (If I’ve commited any spectacular crime against vocabulary/grammar let me know on priv).

Now I’m going back to rewatching show and torturing SoTN

No TL:DR, just read it if you want, it is not an entire book, you know.

[rueitae]

Roommates in Disguise - Chapter 5

Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19901668/chapters/47292058

Next time, @fallen-angel-nightshade gets deep into the plot.

Beta by the wonderful @whyamistillhungry

Art by the phenomenal @mybluelionlancylance

Look at it! https://mybluelionlancylance.tumblr.com/post/186452499757/this-is-art-for-the-plance-mini-bang

~~~~~

Lance had every intention of waking up early - but he was so comfortable. His stomach growled in delight as the scent of maple hit his nostrils. The sound of sizzling bacon and the humming of the kitchen fan reached his ears, completing the perfect background noise to doze in bed... Wait. His kitchen fan was broken. 

Lance jumped up with alarm and yelled in surprise as his back hit the floor. The sleeping bag he’d slept in hung mockingly from his legs. “Are you okay?” Katie asked, peeking out from behind the partition between the kitchen and living room. It all came back to him. “Yeah, s-sorry,” he said, more embarrassed than anything. “Only thing hurt is my pride.” Katie nodded. “Good. Then you’ll be able to enjoy breakfast.” She popped back into the kitchen. “I’m almost done with the bacon, but help yourself to the eggs and toast.” Lance slowly made his way to the tiny table and gazed upon the feast. Saliva pooled up in his mouth at the sights and smells. Two plates with forks and glasses of orange juice were already arranged, filled with buttered toast, scrambled eggs, and hashbrowns. Wait, when had he gone grocery shopping? “Where did you get all this? I know I didn’t have it in my fridge.” “Good news,” Katie responded, stirring into his only frying pan. “The police contacted me early this morning. I got to go back to the house and grab a few things. Breakfast is on me, it's the least I can do.” Lance smiled back, sitting down and shoveling some eggs into his mouth. His taste buds exploded and he moaned in delirium. “This is delicious.” When was the last time he’d been able to make eggs? Tears welled up in his eyes. “Thank you.” Katie finished her cooking and brought the pan over to serve them both. “I had to fix your kitchen fan, too, but honestly you’re doing me a favor. I’d fix your whole apartment if you let me.” “Really?” Lance said, hopeful. Katie had said she was majoring in robotics, but the fact that she would improve his quality of life was a gift. Between school and hero work, he didn’t have the money or the time to do it himself. He might be in love. He sat back and listed off the problems with the apartment, using his fingers as visual aides. “Because the faucet in the bathroom is leaky. And the bathtub doesn’t drain well, and the water pressure has been weird since I moved in. Most of the light bulbs don’t work even though I bought brand new ones last month,” he continued, finding himself getting more annoyed as he went on. “The disposal doesn’t work — “ “It does now,” Katie interrupted. “ — the freezer spits out ice rando — wait you fixed that already too?” Katie nodded, her face amused but not right out laughing. It was far more sympathetic. “I’m surprised Icebound hasn’t offered to help. He seems like the kind of guy who would want the best for his best friend. Lance slowed down chewing his latest bite of toast. His heart beat rapidly. He hadn’t foreseen this. He swallowed hard. “I asked him not to,” Lance finally settled on. He shoved some egg into his mouth, hoping she would take the hint of being done with that part of the conversation. “I see...” Katie said. She took a sip of orange juice. “Look, Lance, I could fix everything here for you, but it’s a bit ridiculous. It’s all broken, and you’re still in a terrible part of town. That can’t be worth it even this close to the university.” “I don’t mind it,” Lance retorted. Being in a crime-ridden area allowed him to use his powers for the most good. Katie looked him dead in the eye, and Lance found himself captivated. There was something eerily familiar with her determined gaze that gave him pause. “Move in with me,” she said bluntly. Lance spit out his eggs. “What?!” “I’m serious,” she continued as he wiped his egg-spattered face with a paper towel. “I have a whole house to myself. Plenty of bedrooms and it’s close to public transit.” Her eyes softened. “You saved my life, Lance. I can get back to searching for my family again.” An uneasy feeling swirled in his gut. The bus, the nicer place, rent-free… it sounded way too good to be true. Cute girls didn’t just ask him to move i-- 

Cute was the word now??? 

“Look, that’s really nice of you, Katie, but don’t you think it would be a little... weird?” he managed. “Any weirder than our city having actual superheroes?” Katie sighed, possibly a bit more dramatic than necessary. “Lance, after Pidge I would honestly feel safer if there was someone else in the house. You know my circumstances, you’re a nice guy,” she smirks, “even kind of cute.” Heat rose to Lance’s cheeks. Why would she use that word? “And you helped me this far. Please?” Well, Lance hadn’t considered Pidge coming back. The more he thought about it, the more likely he realized it was. Katie probably knew too much, and Pidge would be after Lance either way. This arrangement would protect both of them, or at least keep the safety in numbers. But... he wasn’t sure if he could keep Icebound a secret from Katie. In time, he’d have to trust her with his secret. The thought of that thrilled him; to have someone to confide his real life with. Katie fidgeted when he didn’t respond. “I accidentally saw the newspaper clipping in your room. And what happened to your family,” she confessed. “I can’t help but think they’d just want you as safe as possible.” Lance’s heart broke and he set his fork on the table, eyes downcast. Even after two years, the pain - the guilt - was still felt just as fresh. Sometimes he wondered if they were looking out for him, or if they blamed him for not being able to control his powers. 

“It’s fine. I forgot I had it out,” he said evenly. 

Katie’s fingers drummed next to her plate, teeth biting at her bottom lip in thought. “It’s… okay to miss them,” she encouraged. “I know what it’s like.” “I do miss them. A lot,” he stressed. His mom’s hugs, his dad’s laughter, his sibling’s harmless teasing all ran through his mind like a slideshow. “I know they wouldn’t want me to sulk, but at the same time...” He locked eyes with Katie with renewed resolve. “Let me help you find your family. If I’m moving in with you, I want to help out however I can.”

If there was a chance he could reunite Katie with her family, he would take it. There was no need for both of them to suffer forever. Katie’s eyes twinkled and her smile grew wider. Lance’s heart fluttered. This girl might be the doom of him. “I was hoping you’d say that,” she said. “You like video games?”

Lance smirked, “I know a great arcade right around the corner.”

~~~~~

Lance felt confident as he moved his character over the last hurdle in the video game. He kept his thumb pressed over the Power Save feature on the controller, making sure Loose Lips Lucy’s special attack was fully charged and ready for the moment Katie’s character got too close. Lucy crouched behind several crates, a favorite hiding spot that no first time opponent had ever found. Lance licked his lips in anticipation. It was his preferred strategy and was looking forward to showing off. Lance glanced at the timer. Thirty seconds left in the round, and when Lance would win off points accumulated instead of K.O. Until his controller buzzed, sending him into astonished confusion, and Lucy’s cartoonish blood was splattered across the screen. A giant K.O. Game Over flashed across his screen. “What?!” Lance exclaimed, looking for Katie. “How did you —?” His strategy was perfect, he used it for Icebound’s stakeouts for crying out loud! Katie leaned over from across him, smirking righteously. “Not a very subtle hiding spot.” “There is no way you found me,” Lance pouted. “You cheated.” “The consoles are back to back, there’s no way I could have seen you. Face it, you’ve met your match.” The smug look on her face threatened to melt his icy power core with how mad he was. Saving her from Pidge was one thing, but all bets were off when it came to video games. 

It was on. “You haven’t even seen a fraction of what I can do. Best two out of three. On the ice planet,” he challenged. Katie grinned. “Challenge accepted, Lance. That’s my favorite map.” Lance’s anger proved fleeting. His blood pumped with excitement that he couldn’t remember, for once not fighting for his life or for others, a stupid grin refusing to come off his face. But before either could insert their tokens, a loud thud resounded off the side paneling. Lance looked down and let out a gasp. The owner of the arcade himself was on the ground and moaning in pain. The previously bustling center floor stood still, the crowd parting only for a large Galra Enforcer moving their way. Lance gulped as he recognized Throk of the Specials Division. Lance knelt by the downed man. “Hey, Rolo, dude, you okay?” he said, taking his hand and helping him up. “Don’t get yourself involved in this one, Kid, it isn’t worth it,” Rolo whispered quickly. “I already rang the police.” “Isn’t this pathetic, receiving help from a child,” Throk said condescendingly. The Galra man directed a cruel grin at both Lance and Rolo. Lance kept his gaze on the switchblade that Throk was currently flipping in and out threateningly. This situation would not end well if he couldn’t transform. Lance stepped forward and balled his fists at his sides, offering the most serious stare he had. “I’m not sure why you’re bothering Rolo and Nyma, but it’s not cool. You’ve got at least twenty witnesses. The police are not going to side with you, even if you are Galra.” Galra Corp was able to get away with a lot in the city in terms of politics and industry. Most employees were not like Throk, but those who worked security felt they were entitled to anything they wanted. Lance growled. With Pidge on the loose, dealing with corrupt Galra security - Throk had been on the receiving end of Icebound’s punches before - was the last thing he needed to deal with. “Please, Galra Corp owns the police.” Throk held the switchblade with an outstretched arm, pointed at Lance. “Tell the man to open his cash register, Little Hero,” he sneered. “I would not want anyone to get hurt.” Lance braced himself but did not back down though Throk’s words were soaked in sarcasm. Nerves tightened and his body prepared for the blow. None came. In a flash Throk was down on the ground, writhing in pain. He screamed. “Get them off! Get them off!” “You can stay there until the police get here,” Katie said calmly, as if she were discussing a cloudless day. Lance turned to find her still in front of her game, holding a small open jar. “Maybe you’ll think twice about doing whatever you want.” Lance took a closer look at Throk and he saw them. Tiny robots the size of ladybugs crawling over the aggressor’s skin. He turned to her in awe, grinning now that the threat had passed.”Robotics huh? Pretty cool.” Katie’s eyes grew wide. “Lance, look out!” Lance turned in time to see a frenzied Throk race towards him, bringing the blade back to strike. Dropping to his knees on instinct, he dodged the blow and scurried through Throk’s legs. Now having the advantage of being behind, Lance stood and, putting a bit of his powers into it, delivered a punch to Throk’s face just as the Galra was beginning to turn around.

Throk landed face down in front of Katie. She squatted and clicked the inside of her mouth, calling the microbots back inside the jar. 

Just like Pidge calling in her tiny robots. Lance shivered. He supposed he’d best get used to more similarities; who knew how many inventions Pidge had stolen from Katie.

She whispered into Throk’s ear, but Lance hadn’t the time to ponder over what she might have said to him. He was too busy blushing over a kiss on the cheek from Rolo’s co-owner. 

“You’re sweet, Lance,” Nyma told him, a bemused smile on her face, “but I really prefer you stay alive. You’re one of our frequent customers.”

Nyma didn’t mean anything by the kiss, he knew that, but the churning in his stomach was more from the warmth in his cheeks. 

“I’m trying,” he said sheepishly. Now that the fight was over and adrenaline faded, Lance was more embarrassed than anything. Thankfully the crowds were already shrugging it off and going back to their various games. 

“You pack a pretty good punch,” Katie said as she walked up to him. Her roundabout compliment and guarded smile sent his heart pounding in a way he couldn’t quite explain. 

“Must have gotten lucky,” Lance shrugged as casually as he could manage. Everyone dug the cool guy attitude, surely Katie would too. “Dad always told me I had a good arm for baseball,” he bragged. 

Katie raised an eyebrow, but her smile remained. “Lucky for us then.”

“And you with your robots,” Lance pointed out. “That was amazing.”

Katie grinned smugly, and that familiar feeling of delight washed over Lance again. “Final projects are supposed to be spectacular. It’s no big deal. We make a pretty good team.”

“If you two think that, try Beezer’s challenge on Defenders of the Universe,” Rolo suggested. 

“The first person shooter?” Katie inquired, head tilted slightly to the side.

“Didn’t you get that over a year ago?” Lance asked, raising an eyebrow. “No one’s beat it yet?”

The game was notorious among gaming circles to be extremely challenging, even now after being available to the public for years. It was ideally played with five, and had no solo mode, so two player was the hardest difficulty.

“Not yet,” Nyma said. “Why don’t you two give it a shot while the blood is still pumping. It’ll be on us; a thanks for taking care of that goon.”

Lance looked to Katie and she gazed back. Her amber eyes shone like the sun and Lance couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth curling up in perfect sync with her’s. 

There was no need for words. They were going to beat that game. 

~~~~~

“Did you see that last move?!” Lance rambled, jogging ahead of Katie and turning to face her as they walked - backwards in his case - out of the arcade. “I backflipped into the mob, hit three bulls eyes upside down - then my gun morphed into a sword!!!” He said excitedly. What a rush that had been - unlocking a secret feature, not even professional gamers knew about. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this elated and relaxed, hero problems forgotten for the moment.

“I know!” Katie squealed back, animatedly jumping and bringing her fists to her chest. Her smile matched his own, stretched wide and looked as if it could fall off. “I can’t believe the game let you use it before you could even see what it was! And the finishing blow - I will never get over that mech letting us dual wield those swords. The arms actually responded independently for us! How cool is that?!”

“The absolute coolest!” Lance agreed. He snorted - he was going to use that line for Icebound’s next battle. He stopped at the corner. One way would take him back to his apartment, the other to Katie’s house. “Too bad about the final boss though, we almost had him. I bet next time we wipe the floor.”

The briefest of frowns crossed her face, almost as if the idea hadn’t sunk in. “Next time?” Katie inquired. 

“Well sure. I mean, if you want to.” Suddenly the hot cheeks were back and he avoided her face. “We do make a pretty good team and… I had a lot of fun today. Best in a long time,” he said honestly. 

“I had a lot of fun, too,” she said, taking his hand, a warm smile back on her face. “Thank you, Lance.” Without warning, she leaned up on her toes and brushed his cheek with her lips. “Seriously. No matter what happens, I want you to know that.”

Despite the ominous tone to her statement, Lance hung on the kiss. Although friendly, after their chemistry at the arcade and willingness to help each other - and especially moving in together - he seriously doubted they could just stay as friends. He’d only just met Katie, but he felt like he’d known her for years. 

Lance took a deep breath. He could afford to have fun, but first and foremost he needed to remind himself that he did this for their mutual protection from Pidge. 

He forced his smile back at her. “Noted.” He looked around the corner. “Your place is this way right?”

Katie nodded. “I need to prepare for you moving in, and you need to pack. I think we’ll be fine separately for one night.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small wad of green. “Here,” she said, placing it in his hands. “A thank you for now.”

Lance opened his hands and let out a slight gasp at the amount of money he held. “I can’t take this,” he said and reached out to give it back to her. 

“No, keep it,” Katie insisted, pushing his hands away. “We’ll be living together, so you can use it to buy groceries or something.”

Only at her additional prompting did he place it in his own pocket. She was placing a lot of trust in him, the least he could do was return it and take it with grace. If he could find it within himself to do that, it would make his duty as a hero less unbearable. 

“Okay,” he finally said. 

Katie’s lip wobbled. “Thanks again for today. I’m looking forward to hanging out with you a lot more. It reminded me of better days with my brother.”

Lance knew that feeling. So he offered what always helped him, a hug. It began with wrapping an arm around her shoulder. When she wrapped her arms around his waist, he held his tightly around her shoulders. “We both miss our families. I promised I’d help. You don’t have to do it alone anymore.”

“Why are you so concerned about helping me? I’m practically a stranger. It’s not your problem,” she sniffled. 

Because it was a hero’s duty. Because he sympathized. Because he was in the right place at the right time.

“Because it's the right thing to do. Fate must have brought us together for a reason.”

Katie was silent for a long moment, then took a deep breath, voice no longer cracking. “You’re a good person, Lance. I can see why your best friend is a hero.”

Lance scoffed. “My best friend is an engineer who lives across the country.”

Katie blinked, crying suddenly stopped but eyes filled with tears and confusion. “Icebound is an engineer?”

Quiznak. 

“Oh! No! My other best friend!” Lance said, backpedaling. He needed to get out of here before he incriminated himself further. He couldn’t tell Katie now and put her in even more danger. “Since Hunk is so far away, I can’t hang out with him much. Heh, I guess it's not too different from hanging out with a superhero. I don’t see him as much as I’d like either.” 

The lie came off a little more easily than Lance would have liked, and it had the desired effect. Katie seemed to buy it. 

“Well, you’ve got me to hang out with now. I’m looking forward to playing video games and showing you all my robots.”

“Perfect!” Lance said spritely. “Well, I’d better get packing. You good to walk home?” He bit his lip - he really should walk her home at the very least. His father would have scolded him. 

“I’ll be fine, I’d rather you get packing. I’ll feel a lot safer once you’re all moved in.”

They exchanged a wave and Lance turned to walk back to his apartment. Guilt churned in his stomach. Would Pidge use this opportunity to strike? Had she been watching them all day?

Lance turned his walk into a jog.

[thejokersenigma]

Loki x Reader - Birthday Party (Guest Post)(1000 Follower Writing Challenge)

Hey guys, the wonderful @so-say-xandra is the first person to submit a piece for my writing challenge and was more than happy for me to post it (yay!)

I hope you guys enjoy it! I’ll leave a little feedback at the bottom if you all don’t mind?

(I haven’t changed/edited this in anyway (pinky promise) other than putting in a few spaces between words where the formatting had removed them!)

———————–

BIRTHDAY PARTY

In response to @thejokersenigma writing challenge to celebrate her much deserved 1000+ followers !

I hope the characters are not (too) ooc and please excuse my English as it is not my native language. I tend to mix both US and UK >< so sorry !

[WARNINGS] : None

Summary :You are hosting a birthday party for Thor at your place. And while your guests (Avengers & Asgardians alike) are enjoying themselves, Loki takes you away from the gathering and asked you for a favor. 

“You did good, kid.” said Tony Stark going out of your kitchen, licking a spoon full of chocolate.

“What were you doing back there?” You asked him sternly.

“Nothing.” He quickly answered, hiding the evidence of his crime behind his back.

You decided to let it go because you knew, nothing in the world would come between Tony Stark and food. Thankfully, you had made more than one cake, otherwise he would have tasted your wrath more than your impeccable recipe.

“That’s more than enough Peter, thank you.” You called to the teenage boy hanging a colorful banner across your living room.

“What about the piñata ?” He asked you, slowly sliding from the ceiling, upside down.

“You bought a piñata?” shouted Tony from the kitchen, back to the scene of the crime.

“Wemadea piñata.” answered Peter with a proud smile. “You wanna see it Mr Stark ?”

“You betcha !”

The man promptly burst out of the kitchen, another spoon full of chocolate dough. And followed the boy to the balcony outside.

“Hey [Y/N] ? Where do you want these ?” said Natasha Romanov from your entryway.

You turned around and see the spy carrying a massive wooden crate full of bottles. You pointed the bar you had installed near a brick wall.

“Do you need a hand ?” you asked concerned about the heavy weight.

“I wouldn’t mind !” declared another voice.

Clint Barton followed by Steve Roger and Saw Wilson, was struggling with his load. Before you could make a step, Peter Parker bursted into the living room.

“Lemme help.”

“Uh uh no way, get outta of here kid.” said Barton turning around in order to avoid Peter touching the bottles.

“Come on, I just want to help.”

But Barton wouldn’t let him anywhere near alcohol, too aware of Stark’s protective behavior towards the boy.

“Would you look at that !” exclaimed Tony holding the piñata shaped to look like Mjlonir, Thor’s hammer.

“Ain’t she a beauty ?” said Steve with an amused smirk. “Where do you want the rest ?” he gently asked you.

“The kitchen will be fine. Thank you.” you answered.

Clint managed to escaped Peter, moving swiftly to the side, like a football player. Tony raised an eyebrow while contemplating the massive amount of liquor brought in by the three men and Natasha.

“You have outdone yourself Romanov.”

Before she could answer, a huge clunk shook the walls of your Queens apartment, followed by a loud growl.

“Hulk, stuck.” complained the green giant, folded in your entryway.

He too, was carrying his share of wooden crates. But instead of one or two, like the others had, he hold a dozen of them.

“OK — now you’ve outdone yourself.” Tony said to Romanov.

The red haired woman grinned.

“Well, we all have seen how Thor parties. It’s the least I could do.” she winked at you.

Not only could the god of thunder hold his liquor, but it seemed that earthling alcohol could never quite do the trick. It was nothing compared to Asgardians drinks, you imagined. And that was why, you let Natasha in charge of finding the best and finest spirits on Earth.

As you and the others, except Peter who was banned from even thinking about alcohol, helped the Hulk, you looked at your place. It was warm and cosy, with cushions thrown all over the sofa and the soft carpet on the floor. It smelled of the cakes and cookies you’ve been baking all afternoon.

Peter had arranged fairy lights inside and out of the apartment, while you set the long diner table. You went for a light white and golden theme,placing candles here and there.

It was no Stark tower, you thought, remembering all the parties you went to there. But Tony’s place as great and big as it was, lacked a little something. To celebrate your friend’s special day, you went for a homely feel. Even if it meant a crowded place when all the guests would have arrived.

When Bruce Banner came back, you handed him a blanket, and showed him the bathroom where a fresh stack of clothes awaited. Then, you walked back to the kitchen, only to find, Tony studying one of your baked cakes.

“Would you get out of here?” you reprimanded him.

“I was just admiring.” he said raising his hands in the air, in false innocence.

From the living room you could hear Peter telling the other Avengers what to do and how to do it. You chose him to be your assistant not only because you liked this goofy teenager, but because his eagerness to please had simply the better of you.

“So ! That’s quite a party you planned kid.”

“Yup.” you answered, focused on your baking.

He strolled around the crates on the floor, taking a measure of what was about to come.

“Do you think you had enough?”

You honestly couldn’t tell if his question was rhetorical or not. You shrugged, your hands full of cookie dough.

“Well, I also invited Sif and Brunhilde so…”

“Say no more.” Tony answered with a raised hand. “Wait! Did you…did you invited Antlers too?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of Loki’s infamous nickname, but decided to ignore it. Of course you had extended an invitation to Thor’s brother.

“I don’t know kid.” Tony mumbled. “I don’t like him ambling around here.”

“You don’t like him, period.” you answered a bit coldly. “And I thought it would do him some good.” you finally add, not clarifying whom you were referring to.

“You’re too nice, for you own good, kid.” he replied before leaving the kitchen to monitor the final settings of the party.

As expected, your apartment was crowded. Full of Avengers and Asgardians getting along just fine. You could not help but feel proud of yourself as you watched everyone having a good time. Being the host of the party, meant you could not quite enjoy it though.

You made sure there was food at all times and kept a close eye on the booze. You did not want anyone getting wasted before the big dinner.

“That is a splendid feast you thrown me [Y/N] !” claimed Thor in his loud and jovial voice. “Maybe you could help me about something.” he said looming over you, placing his friendly arm around your shoulders.

“Shoot.” you encouraged him gladly.

“I heard talks and whispers about a fight of some sort. Against something called a pintata ?”

“Piñata,” you corrected him, feeling your cheeks burn. “It is not a– a fight, per say. But beating is involved, yes. Wh…who is talking about it exactly ?”

“Who’s not talking about it, you mean !” he bursted. 

Thor clapped his massive hand on your back, making you cough upon the blow.

“Was s’pose to be a surprise…” you muttered between your teeth. As he left you to join the others, something caught your attention near the bar. There, you spotted the valkyrie, carelessly handing a glass to young Peter Parker. You raced through the crowd, and at the last second, snatched the glass from Peter’s hand and drank the whole thing down.

The beverage barely touched your lips and yet it burned them, firing its way down your throat. Your eyes watered and you seemed to have forgotten how to breath. 

“You’re quite the party animal, aren’t you !” guffawed the Asgardian, holding tight a half-full bottle of liquor.

You raised a finger to her, ready to lecture her about earth rule as not to give any strong beverage to a minor, but you could barely speak, your stomach burning like hell fire. Instead, you turned to Peter, the glass still in your grip.

“I didn’t do anything.” he said raising his hands.

“Just…Stark…” was all you could say at the moment.

You watch as the teenage boy ran away from the bar. Finally air seemed to have find a way back to your lungs. You swipe out the tears at the corner of your eyes and turned back to the valkyrie who was opening another bottle all for herself. She grinned at you.

“T’shit…too strong…for (you scarcely hold a burp back) him.”

“As it is for you as well.” answered drawled voice behind you.

First, you saw a pale white hand reaching the glass you still hold in yours. Then, you felt the brushing of his cool fingers upon your skin as he took it away. Your eyes followed up and landed of Loki’s green ones, his face crossed with a devilish smile. Without breaking eye contact with you, he poured himself a drink, and began to slowly savor it.

“Refreshing.” he purred with a cocky grin.

“Show off.” you answered to his provocation, hardly hiding your amused smile. “Glad you could come.” you said, your throat still burning. Loki nodded and bowed his head.

“You have better taste in spirits than I ever thought you would.” he said raising, now, his glass to you.

“Did you know there will be fighting too ?” announced Valkyrie. Loki raised an interested eyebrow while you buried your head in your shoulder.

“I don’t know what a piñata is,” she added “but I can wait to see Thor fight another force of nature. It’s like we’re back on Sakaar!” she laughed before taking a long gulp of drink.

Loki shivered.

“A force of ? No, it’s just a – urgh… forget about it.” you gave up and soon went to check upon the other guests.

You had found a place to sit, next to Natasha on your living room small bench. Thor, surrounded by Sif and Steveon the sofa, was telling a story about a battle the three of them fought not long ago. Everyone in earshot was hooked to his epic tale, except for Valkyrie and Sam Wilson who had heard the story a thousand times already, and found themselves partners in booze at the bar. Even though you have heard it as soon as he returned to Earth, you listened to Thor’s story as well as the others.

Piles of presents took up too much space on the diner table, but you did not mind. On the contrary, you were glad to see your friend being that spoiled and you could not wait for him to open yours. Out of the blue, you sensed something strange. Overcome with a feeling that someone was behind you. A dark presence getting closer and closer to your back.

Right before, you turned your head to check above your shoulders, Loki leant forward, his long dark hair touching slightly the bare skin of your neck. 

His cold breath smelled of the spirits he had drunk, was enticing to say the least. Your skin crawled as he whispered to your ear.

“Which one is yours?”

You swallowed with difficulty. Your lips were surprisingly dry and your tongue heavy in your mouth. Yet, you managed to answer him, your eyes flickering to his – way – too close lips. Your gift was the square one, with the silver paper carefully wrapped around it.

“Are you…satisfied with it?” he then ask, seemingly closer than before.

You couldn’t help yourself, and closed your eyes, feeling the overwhelming presence of Loki’s tensed and lean body just an inch away from yours.

You would have shrugged your shoulders but you did not dare move more than just a slight, so you nodded, unable to speak either.

Without warning, Loki put his hand on the small of your back and whispered in a husk and yet urgent voice: “come with me.” Your skin crawled so much at his touch, that you suspected it to want to go away altogether. As he broke contact, you caught a breath.

He did not wait for you, and swiftly went out of the room, raising no one’s attention. But when you got up, it was another story.

“You okay sweety?” asked Natasha looking concerned.

“Oh yeah!” you answered dismissing her concern with a wave of your hand “a host’s work is never done.”

You excused yourself and smiled your way out of the living room and walked as naturally as you could to the kitchen. You looked around you, not seeing Loki anywhere. Where was he? Moreover, why did you followed him so blindly?

Loki hissed, calling your attention. He was standing in the dark corridor, waiting for you to come along. As you approached he quickly grabbed a hold of your bare forearm and led you to the bathroom. Once the both of you inside, he closed the door and turn the key in the locket.

Your heart pounded in your chest, felt the sweat from your pores as you tried to wrap your mind around what was going on. By now, you got used to Loki’s presence. You even, hanged out quite a bit. But always in a casual atmosphere, with a lot of space around you. You realized, that until now, the two of you had never been left alone with each other.

The proximity of the god in your tiny bathroom, where only a small bathtub, a sink and the toilets were enough to fill most of it, made you nervous. Nevertheless, you were determined to act as usual, and stopped being – what? Afraid? mesmerized maybe? 

“Care to tell me why you just pulled me into a room and locked the door?” you gestured towards the handle.

“I must require your help.” Loki answered in a hushed voice.

“You have weird way of asking for it.” you said crossing your arms on your chest. “What do you want from me?”

For a quick second you could have sworn Loki eyed you greedily, but as you studied his face, there was nothing but seriousness.

“It is of the upmost importance that you do agree.” he warned you.

“I can’t if you don’t tell me what is it first!” you exclaimed impatiently.

His eyes couldn’t stay in one place, which was not like him. When he chose to focus his gaze on you, you did not blush. You were too annoyed for that. 

“Everyone has brought one.” he muttered in admittance.

You scrunched up your nose, not understanding what he was saying when it hit you like a truck. Your eyes widened and a mocking grin ran across your face.

“You forgot about it, didn’t you? You forgot your brother’s birthday!” you laughed.

“Would you please lower your voice?” he hushed.

“You’re a bad brother!” you mocked.

“I am well aware of that, thank you.” he said looking genuinely hurt.

A laugh died in your throat as you looked at him. He looked at you, practically begging for your help without saying anything. How did he do that? You wondered. How could he go from merciless killer vibe to cinnamon roll in need for a hug in an instant?

He stood tall, but somehow fragile. As his long body against the door, blocking the only way out, you felt powerless. You studied his face a little while longer, looking for something – anything – that might tell you it was a bad idea.

“Fine.” you sighed. “What d’you have in mind Dory?”

“Well – I was thinking we could pretend your present was in fact, my present. So I have something to give my brother.” he flashed a smile, back to his confident, pretentious self.

“Oh hell no!” you screamed appalled.

“Why not?” he asked genuinely surprised you did not immediately agreed with his idea.

“He’ll think that I forgot his birthday!”

“He will not.” dismissed Loki “You are the reason we are all gathered here, are you not?”

It was true and you were aware of it. Nonetheless, you were the kind of person to go out of your depth for loved ones. It meant nice gestures as well as gifts and parties.

Loki saw the scowl on your face and left his spot against the door to take a step towards you.

“Better you than me.” he whispered, fully aware of the effect he had had on you earlier.

“You mean to throw me under the bus.” you turned your head and stare at him.

You hold his intense, almost burning, gaze. Yes, you were willing to make an effort, as you knew the god of mischief had a hard time adjusting to life on Earth since Thor brought him back. Even though you were more than glad to see two brothers grew closer there was a limit, Loki was dangerously close to cross. And you would not let him get away with it.

“I assure you.” he simpered “My brother holds you in high regard. You will hardly disappoint him.” he paused “Unlike me.”

Here it was again, the flash of hurt feelings in his eyes. His jaws were clenched in a cold bitterness, and as he let a heavy breath out, he asked you, almost implored you if you would do it for him.

“Why? I mean why did you pick me over” you paused, thinking “Tony or Steve? They’ve know Thor for a longer time than I have. Hell, why didn’t you ask Sif? She is obviously the one to go to.”

“Because you have taste.”

“Don’t lie to me.” you immediately answered smacking his arm with the back of your hand.

Loki tittered a bit. By now, he was accustomed to your habit of smacking people who annoyed you. Sometimes, it seemed that he was purposefully provoked you, as you often found yourself clapping him on his arms or shoulders. He smiled again, briefly, but you caught it anyway. 

“Because you are my brother’s friend. Even more so, you are mine.”

His? Your brain froze for a moment where his voice echoed, low, almost like a seducing growl.

“And I am surely not their friend.” he smirked.

“Friends don’t steal from one another.” you reminded him.

“I had no intention to steal from you.” he assured you, taking another step closer to you. “But now that you mention it, perhaps it would be…”

“Don’t you dare!” you warned him with another smack on his forearm.

You gazed into each other eyes, knowing all too well, you will not refuse him.

“Fine!” you surrendered. “But, and I insist on it, we’ll pretend it came from the both of us. Deal?” you extended your hand in front of you. Loki raised an eyebrow and stared at your serious face. You could not tell if it was pride or amusement that lighted his features, but he soon took your hand in his. His soft, frosty skin against yours made you shiver once more. Your heart pounded in your chest so loudly, you thought the god could hear it too. 

“Deal.” he said shaking your hand once but not taking it out of yours.

You stood like this for what seemed to be endless seconds, when the laughters from the living room forced you to come to your senses.

“We better get back there.”

“Right !” exclaimed Loki as he, also, emerged from a dream. “After you, my lady.”

He slid over to the side and unlocked the door he opened for you. As you walked past him, you shook your head at his banter.

You rushed through the corridor, Loki at your heels when you asked “By the way, what’s in it for me?”

“The satisfaction of helping a friend in need.”

“Nah.” you answered unconvinced and unsatisfied.

Before entering the kitchen which led to the living room, you straightened your back, and combed nervously your hair with your fingers. You looked around and thought about coming back with a plate of sliced tomatoes and salmon to announce the beginning of diner. But before you could move, Loki’s hand brushed your elbow, his fingers slowly gliding back to the palm of your hand. His touch teased the tip of your fingers. Then, he leaned over you, his lips against your ear and whispered in a silky voice “How about…anything you want?”

You managed to get through diner without eyeing too much in Loki’s direction. The joyous guests getting most of your attention were a big help. At the end of each course, provided by Stark’s caterer, Steve and Peter landed you a hand, as they were the only ones, alongside you, sober enough to be trusted with plates. 

Sometimes, when you gathered the dirty plates, Loki would completely shut you out, ignoring your presence beside him. Other times, he would raised his head to you, smiled and politely give you his plate, saying “Thank you, my lady.” You rolled your eyes, unable to give him the smack he deserved.

“Why is there a smudge on your cake?” asked Steve Rogers examining the desert you had prepared for Thor’s birthday.

“Stark.” you cursed his name through your teeth as you lighted the candles all around the tasty nine realms you baked.

You carefully placed the massive tray on Steve hands and forearm. In the living room, you nodded at Peter so he could shut down the lights. The room was lit only by candles and the fairy lights hanging here and there, reflecting the starry sky outside.

Perfect, you thought as everyone started to sing happy birthday to the god of thunder.

Natasha and Clint cleared the space in the middle of the diner table, allowing Steve to put the tray down. At the end of the song, they all clapped cheerfully. You glanced at Loki. He had a bitter smile on his face. Still he played the part, and joined the congratulations, only politely.

“Don’t forget to you make a wish before blowing out the candles Point Break” laughed Tony in front of Thor’s mesmerized face.

“Why would wish upon blowing some candles out?” he asked in disbelief.

“It’s tradition.” replied simply Natasha.

“It is known Khaleesi.” said Peter, making you burst a laugh.

“Make haste your majesty,” jested Brunhilde. “I can’t wait to see you kick some piñata.” clearly no one had thought best to tell exactly what a piñata was to the Asgardians.

You were standing at the end of the diner table, next to Loki, a camera in your hands. You pressed the video recorder button. That way you were sure to capture the moment. When Thor successfully extinguished the small flames the whole crowd applauded. You walked around the table, taking pictures of your guests when you noticed a sulky, silent Loki whose eyes were lost in some gloomy patterns of thoughts. Most likely he felt envious of his brother’s happiness while everyone cheered and asked for cake.

You kneeled as his side and startled him a bit when you ask for his help bringing the gifts to the table. Nonetheless, did he agreed and quickly rose to his feet. You took him by the arm, initiating for the first time since you’ve know each other, a physical contact that did not involved playful and annoyed smacking.

“When’s your birthday?” you asked bluntly.

“Why? Do you intend on making me hit a strange shaped objet full of sweets as well?” he smirked.

“Maybe.” you shrugged with an amused faced.

“That’s not exactly my style.” he precised.

You beamed your smiled at him and started putting presents on his arms and took a bunch yourself. Another trip will be needed, you realized.

“When is yours?” he asked softly on your way back to the table.

“A lady never tells.” you answered playfully.

The ritual of gifts unwrapping had started as soon the last slice of cake was eaten. You were seated at Thor’s left side, giving him his birthday presents one by one. Between each one, Thor insisted to rise and hugged in thanks. So after quite some time, when finally your gift showed up, you suddenly felt very anxious. 

What do you offer a god? You had asked yourself while tossing and turning on bed at night. It was an impossible question and yet you found the answer when you asked yourself instead what do you offer a friend?

You were sure of your choosing until this very moment. You watched carefully his large hands examining the silver paper, touching every angle of the gift, trying to guess what it could be.

He had already received amazing, pricey and thoughtful presents. You glanced at Loki who was eyeing you expectantly, his face showing a slight of nervousness as well.

Not only did you want to please your friend, make him happy. But now, after the bathroom deal between you and Loki, you felt like the fraternal relationship was hanging in the balance. The pressure on your should became more and more unbearable.

“How marvelous!” boomed Thor’s voice.

He showed the book 1001 Places You Need To Visit he had just received for everyone to see.

Thor turned to you and grabbed you by your shoulders, pulling you in his muscular arms.

“I love it [Y/N]. I shall visit every places listed on this guidebook. Thank you!”

“Actually” you coughed when he released his embrace. “It’s from Loki and I.”

“What?” would have exclaimed a surprised audience in a cheap sitcom comedy. But you were not on TV, and the guests, despite having drank a bit much, knew how to behave.

“You remembered!” yelled Thor in disbelief.

“How could I forget?” Loki answered with a false innocence.

Sneaky bastard, you thought, repressing the urge to wipe his triumphant smirk away from his gorgeous face.

“Stranger things have happened.” said Tony sipping his drink.

“Truth is” you said “the book is from me but, the rest was Loki’s idea.”

“The rest? Is there more? What is it brother, please tell me.” he asked impatiently.

Loki looked at you, daggers in his eyes. If he could, he would have murdered you on the spot, you had not doubt. But to his brother’s face he was all smiles.

“I – uh…”

“He wants to visit all of these amazing places with you. All of them.” you insisted.

Thor and everyone else around the table were baffled. All eyes turned to Loki.

“Oh how nice.” said Bruce Banner.

“Yes. It is a very lovely thought.” added Steve Rogers with a warm smile to Loki, making Tony coughed in his drink. Clint and Natasha looked at you, not quite buying the whole brotherly time, but if they did not voiced their suspicions.

“Brother! I – That’s wonderful. I can’t believe it.” he said shaking his brother by the shoulder with a warm, and yet painful, grip.

“Neither can I.” muttered Loki.

It was four in the morning and you were leading a sleepy teenage boy through the corridor.

“Go to sleep Peter. I’ll finish tomorrow.”

“No, but – uhm – I don’t…mind.”

“Sleep. Now.” you commanded as you let him fall upon your bed. You took off his shoes and put a blanket over him.

“Thank you.” he said in his sleep. “Great…party.”

You gently closed the door and headed towards the kitchen. It was still a mess despite your efforts of cleaning it throughout the entire evening. It seemed like it would never be clean again. While that depressing thought crawled into your sleep deprived brain, Steve came in with an empty crate he started filling with emptied bottles. He was relentless, determined to give you a hand until everything looked like it was before.

You began to gather all of the bottles as well, ignoring the headache slowly throbbing . From where you stood, you watchedTony’s head on Bruce’s shoulder as they were both soundasleep.Thor and Sif drinking what was left of alcohol and talking. While, outside on the balcony, there was Sam Wilson singing some Marvin Gaye’s songsto a drunken and merry Valkyrie.

“Where are Clint and Natasha?” you asked realizing you haven’t seen them.

“They just left,” answered Rogers. For Budapest.”

“Oh – Of course.” you shrugged, a bit sad they did not wait to say goodbye.

“Budapest! That’s on our list too brother!” yelled Thor from across the living room raising his glass up in the air.

“Joy.” said Loki with a stern face. He was seated on one of the two stools you had behing the counter of your kitchen island, playing with crumbs of cake.

“Can’t you, at least, use your tricks to speed this up?” you heard Rogers asked the god of mischief as you left the kitchen in desperate need of peace and quiet.

You were sore but content with yourself. As you walked to your bathroom, you decided to take a steamy shower and then put an all nighter. ‘I’ll sleep when they’re gone’ you thought to yourself. Anyhow, you had not many options as where to sleep. It was either the carpet on your living room floor or the smallest bathtub ever in your bathroom. 

As you closed and locked the door behind you, your headache seemed to calm a bit. Finally you were alone with yourself for the first time since…since forever. You did not mind the constant buzzing of work at Tony’s compound and the guests at your place, but sometimes you just wanted to be in your quiet bubble.

You turned on the hot water and soon the bathroom was warm and steamy, making your eyelid excruciatingly heavy. You started to undress yourself. First the pants and then your shirt. With your hands you tried to dry the head mirror when you noticed a dark figure had appeared behind you. 

“You tricked me.” growled Loki’s voice behind you.

“Never heard of knocking, Candyman?” you jumped out.

You turned to face him, struck by how close your practically naked body was from his. Yet, you defied him with a scornful gaze. The god of mischief took a small step forward, reducing the distance between the two of you.

You were about to demand him to leave the room, when he slipped a hand under your chin. Barely touching it, he made you look up to him. His other hand now skimming the skin of your exposed stomach, giving you goosebumps all over your body.

His green eyes flickered to your lips and went back to your gaze. You could feel his tantalizing breath upon your mouth, his nose almost touching yours as he slowly leaned over you. 

“You tricked me.” he purred with a satisfied grin. His lips brushing yours.

——-

I really did love this idea - and the main content is great! I don’t want to be too critical because I don’t want to discourage you in anyway, but there’s a few grammatical errors, tenses a bit mixed up, words in the wrong place - but who cares about that niggly stuff (I mean I can hardly talk! And you’ve already explained English isn’t your native language! ) when the main content is this fun?! After all, it didn’t stop me from reading and enjoying it!

Wonderful job, hun, I hope you continue to write and use this wonderful imagination of yours!

[mayjaymayjay]

Title: Bad End (Zootopia Alternate Ending) Word Count: 2333 Pairings: Platonic Judy/Nick Warnings: Blood, Death, Murder, Mind Control/Hypnotism, Major Character Death, Grieving, Crying, Angst Summary: What if the nighthowlers weren’t replaced by blueberries? (Otherwise known as the ending that has been done a million different times) Author Note: Again, this is another old fic, I will most likely never post another Zootopia fanfic. So please don’t follow me or anything because of this fic. Thank you for reading!

“Bye, bye, bunny!” Dawn Bellwether chuckled sinisterly, as Nick Wilde cornered his friend, Judy Hopps, as she pleaded for her life, completely helpless.

He lunged at her, biting deep into her neck, as the bunny screamed in anguish. He shook her around until a loud “CRACK!” was heard. Blood covered his muzzle and Judy, she was killed by her best friend.

Dawn chuckled again. “Ooh! Yes! I win again! And to prove it, well, just look right here!”

She pointed her hooves at the bloody scene of betrayal, admiring it, but, also, grimacing at it, since Nick tore out Judy’s insides, feasting upon them.

“Not so fast, Ms. Bellwether!” A deep, familiar, voice exclaimed.

She quickly turned around, her jaw dropping. “Huh?!”

The sheep was surrounded by the ZPD, including Chief Bogo, two of the police officers, grabbing and handcuffing her.

“No! No! You can't do this!” Dawn cried in desperation.

“Dawn Bellwether, you are under arrest for terrorism,” the chief continued to list off her crimes and criminal rights.

The rest of the officers ran down to tackle Nick off of Judy, then strapping a muzzle on his face, him, as the fox tried to fight back against the cops ten times his size.

“Get a paramedic immediately!” One called, referring to Judy, who was already dead since Nick broke her neck.

The one police officer noticed a carrot-shaped pen fall out of Judy’s pocket.

…

“I learned two things that day,” Nick concluded his story, staring at the ground they were hovering over, him showing an emotion he hadn't shown anyone in a good while: Sadness. “One: I was never gonna let anyone see that they got to me.”

“And two?” Judy asked, begging him to continue.

“If the world's only gonna see a fox as shady and untrustworthy,” he continued, his voice slightly shaky. “There's no point in trying to be anything else.”

“Nick, you are way more than that,” she comforted, placing her paw on his arm.

He glances at her and pulls away. “Boy, look at the traffic down there.” He changed the subject.

…

“Former Mayor Dawn Bellwether is behind bars today,” Fabienne Growley reported on the ZNN News. The screen showed a video of the sheep in custody being guided by a bunch of officers through a mob of photographers. “Guilty of masterminding the horrible attacks that have taken over Zootopia as of late, along with the murder of the hero of our story, Judy Hopps, using a hit-man to do so.”

The next picture was a selfie Judy took in her police uniform, cheerful and hopeful, just how she always was, no matter how difficult things got.

“The former mayor, Leodore Lionheart,” Peter Moosebridge continued the story. “Denies any knowledge of her plan, continuing to claim he was trying to protect the city.”

The program switched to the ex-mayor in prison. “Did I falsely imprison those animals? Well, y-yes, I did. But I was "doing the wrong thing for the ‘right reason’ kind of a deal.”

The news then switched back to Fabienne and Peter.

“In related news,” Fabienne continued. “Doctors say the Night Howler antidote is effective in recovering the afflicted predators.”

…

Nick Wilde groggily woke up in the hospital, after slowly blinking once or twice, he realized he was alone, with no recollection of what happened.

Conveniently, though, a pig nurse walked through the door, carrying a tray of medical tools and utensils, once she realized he was awake her eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh! You're awake!” She exclaimed, hurriedly walking over to his side with the tray. “How are you feeling, Mr. Wilde?”

“Like I just got ran over by a stampede,” he rubbed his head and groaned. “What happened?”

She looked down at the floor, suddenly becoming saddened and anxious. “Mr. Wilde… Do you remember anything before you woke up here?”

“I remember that I was with Judy and we were trapped in a dome-like thing,” he looked up to the ceiling as if trying to see if there were any answers in the plain, white ceiling. “I think there was a sheep with glasses and-” he stopped himself.

“Mr. Wilde?” She called, even more worried than she was before she asked the question.

“All I remember is red,” the fox stated.

He felt his fur on his face become damp, he placed a paw on his face, he was crying?

“It's okay, Mr. Wilde,” she comforted, placing a hoof on his arm while looking him in the eyes, “We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to.”

“N-no,” Nick stuttered as he glanced over at her and pulled away. “It's just…”

The gesture made him suddenly remembered someone, then grabbed the nurse’s shoulders. “Where's Judy?” He asked firmly.

The nurse was startled by the question, but then looked back down at the ground, her concerned and comforting look turning into a sad one.

“Answer me, please!” He cried, his voice cracking due to his sobs.

“Mr. Wilde,” she continued hesitantly. “Dawn Bellwether shot you with Night Howler, you attacked Judy, she… She didn't make it.”

Nick’s heart shattered. He let go of the nurse’s shoulders and laid back down, his face devoid of any emotion.

“Mr. Wilde?” She called once again. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I just,” the fox trailed off for a second. “I just need to be alone right now.”

“Yes, sir,” the pig nodded her head and walked out of the room, along with the tray of tools.

After she left, Nick began to fully sob, covering his face with his paws, as tears fell down his fluffy face.

“Judy,” he called, hoping that she would maybe hear him. “I'm so sorry.”

He killed one of his best friends, if not his only friend. How could he had been so careless as to let the Night Howler gun be loaded? He had blueberries, why didn't he replace them with the blueberries he had?

They were right, he was just a dumb, untrustworthy fox, that's all he’ll ever be.

Suddenly, there was a small knock at the door, Nick quickly wiped his tears away and cleared his throat. “C-come in,” he stuttered. Real smooth, Nick.

“Excuse me,” an otter with a blue sweater entered the hospital room. “You're Nick Wilde, right?”

“Yes, ma'am,” Nick answered.

“Well, I'm Mrs. Otterton,” she continued. “Wife of Emmett Otterton, you were on his case with Judy Hopps?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

“Well, you saved my husband’s life,” she stated, stepping forward. “I would like to formally thank you for that.”

“Oh, please,” the fox tried to stop her right there. “I'm not the one who save him, carrots, I mean, Ms. Judy is. She's the one who cracked open the case, I was just the one who took her places and gave her tips, I really didn't do much at all. If anything I-” he sighed. “I ruined everything.”

“But, sir,” she defended. “If you weren't there assisting her, she would've never gotten as far as she did.”

“She also would still be alive right now,” he mumbled.

“I'm sorry?” She questioned, she didn't hear him.

“Nevermind,” he shook his head. “I, um… Thank you for coming here, you didn't have to. And, uh, you're welcome for helping to find your husband.”

“No problem, sir,” she nodded with a gentle smile. “I was already here since my husband is, he woke up earlier, he told me to thank you.”

“Well, tell him I said it was no problem,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” she nodded again, then exited the room. “Thank you, again.”

He nodded.

...

Nick carried a bouquet of flowers in his paws as he walked up a steep hill, finally getting the courage to visit his friend. Finally, up the grassy hill, he stood in front of a small tombstone of the friend he was visiting.

The tombstone simply had her name engraved, along with her birth and death year and her favorite song, Try Everything, underneath it.

He placed the flowers at the bottom foot of the grave, Nick, sitting in front of the grave afterward. “Hey, Judy,” he greeted with a small smile.

“It's, uh, been a while, hasn't it?” He forcefully pushed a chuckle. “Well, it’s only been a year, but still… I guess that's a long while to talk to a friend.”

He paused.

“I guess you're kinda wondering what's been going on,” he scratched the back of his neck but then returned his gaze to her grave. “Well, your parents finally understand what fully went on and don't exactly blame me for anything, so I guess that's good.”

“Oh!” He remembered something. “I'm a cop now,” he stated, pulling out his badge and placing it in front of her tombstone as if placing it in her hand.

“Though, I think everyone is paranoid about me, which I guess is fair.” He picked the badge back up and putting it back in his shirt pocket.

He looked at the ground beneath him. “You know, there's not a day that goes by where I don't think about it. It's like someone is pushing a rewind and play button in my head of that same scene.”

He looked back at the tombstone, tears falling down his face. “Everyday is torture and it's all my fault, if I hadn't been so negligent and small-minded you would still be here.”

“You were right,” the fox wiped away few tears with his arm. “I am a dumb fox.”

“Nick?” A familiar voice called. “Nick, is that you?”

Nick slowly turned around, blinking away his tears. Only able to see a silhouette because of the bright sun setting behind her, he could only make out a small frame, tall ears… There's no way. “Judy?”

“Uh, no,” the silhouette corrected, the sun now fully set, he could now see that her fur was a deep brown color with white feet and paws. “I'm one her sisters. You're Nick Wilde, correct?”

“Yeah,” he answered, disappointed. What did he expect? “Why do you ask?”

“One reason is that I was curious why some random fox was at my sister’s grave,” she joked, slightly chuckling to herself, but then turned serious. “The main reason is I wanted to ask a few questions as to why you're here and not saving the world like she would want you to?”

The fox was caught off guard by the question. “I, uh,” he cleared his throat. “I think I should visit my friend once in a while, don't you think?”

“Maybe so, but,” she replied. “Shouldn't you be at work right now?”

“No, I'm off-duty,” he answered, getting a tab bit annoyed at the rabbit. “Anyway, why is it any of your business?”

“Did you ever read her will?” The rabbit asked.

“I didn’t even know she had a will,” he replied, how did he not know about this?

“Before she went on this mission, she wrote a will,” she began, taking a folded up piece of paper from her pocket. “It included a letter for you.”

She presented the letter to him and he took it from her paws.

“I’ll leave you alone now, I’ve done my part,” she began to walk away.

“Wait,” he called, causing her to turn towards him. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” she smiled a bit, but then walked away.

He unfolded the paper and began to read it.

“Hey, Nick,

I guess if you’re reading this, I’m not around. I don’t know how this happened and I’m not gonna make assumptions either. But I am going to assume that you’re reading this because you are sad about my death. My sister was instructed to give this letter to you if she saw you again, whether if it was at my funeral or my grave. I don’t know where you’re at now or even how we were as friends, but I just wanted to tell you a few things.

I’m sorry for what I said, I know I’ve probably told you that already, but I really mean it, Nick. I don’t know if you’ve forgiven me or not, but I know this letter was given to you for a reason. My sister has a good intuition and I don’t think she’d just give this letter to you unless she thought you had forgiven me or were genuinely mourning. In that case, I just want to say I’m sorry I’m not here right now. If I could, I’d hug you right now.

I think I should tell you to do something because I don’t know how you reacted, maybe you’re doing well and you don’t need this advice, but I’ll tell you just in case. Move on. Let me go. Don’t forget me, mourn for a bit, but please move on. I love you and care about you and always will. You are a wonderful person and I don’t want you to forget that. So I will conclude on this: Continue making this world a better place for everyone, predators and prey.

Signing off for the final time, Judy Hopps

P.S. Don’t be dumb, be sly.”

Nick’s paws were shaking as he folded the letter again and shoved it into his pocket. His vision was slightly blurred by tears. He looked over to his friend’s grave, nodded, and stood up. He finally got what he needed to hear by the one he needed to hear it from the most.

“You’re right, carrots,” he sighed and walked away.

As he continued he thought about all the good and bad times he had with Judy, yes they were memories he would occasionally need to think about to bring him to senses or to comfort him. However, he didn’t need to live in that forever, he needed to forgive himself and he needed to move on. Like Judy wrote, he needed to make the world a better place.

Nick got into his car, shut the door behind himself, and smiled. “I need to get to work then.”

[theonyxpath]

Tales from the Dark Eras contains stories from many of the eras covered in Chronicles of Darkness: Dark Eras. This week we look at Dry Spell, a story by Renee Ritchie set in Vampire: The Requiem’s late 16th century.

“For crimes against the state and the pacts of our safety and contaminating the masses upon whom we feed, Abbot Nathaniel Pendleton is hereby condemned to Final Death, to be carried out immediately. Court is adjourned.”

While not the most ideal words to hear upon returning to court, that utterance confrmed that I was, indeed, home, if nearly an hour late. The Ieldra’s voice flled the court chamber as only hers could: placid, but brimming with power, even when bored. The rustle of her heavy velvet skirts along the floor struck my ears more deeply than the Abbot’s shouted protests and the resulting scuffle.

Harald elbowed me brusquely, returning my attention to my more immediate surroundings instead of the presence of the Ieldra. The Haunt grinned at me, his teeth crisscrossing each other in a fght for dominance in his own mouth. “Oi, some fancy tricks she’s learned there, eh?”

“Trick. Yes. Serpents,” I mumbled. My gaze wandered back to the high table where the Ieldra, seated at the center of the table, greeted a few richly dressed courtiers. Caedmon sat to her left, fretting with the long robes of offce and glaring sidelong as Richard Bithewaye introduced those courtiers to the Ieldra personally. One of Caedmon’s arms protectively encircled an earthenware vessel with a bit of ash smeared on its lip and handle.

“If that answer pleases you, sir,” Harald replied, his voice a little louder and more pointed than it needed to be. “Good to have you home, lad, but I’m afraid this conversation is more business than pleasure, so your full attention is requested.” Harald reinforced his message by gripping my arm with surprising power and flashing those wayward teeth once more.

“The Ieldra would like to see you, sir. Says it’s important.”

The old woman I’d killed on the way into the city flashed before my memory, and the gnawing sensation in the pit of my stomach, a quiet but persistent presence throughout the proceedings, made its presence known once more.

I followed Harald obediently rather than resisting, and his vicious grip loosened as we approached the high table. The Ieldra politely nodded along to whatever honeyed words spilled forth from Bithewaye’s companion, but her eyes moved to me, and I felt the cold of winter in my spine once more. Her conversation partner’s gaze shifted as well, narrowing to scrutinize my mean-looking garb and unremarkable face. I dipped my head in the deference the nobility prefers, and the delicate flower held a handkerchief to his face.

“Leave us,” the Ieldra said. I felt Harald back away behind me in quick steps. Caedmon and Richard both looked at me askance, but did as the lady bid. Caedmon collected the urn that surely carried the remains of his wayward abbot, and Richard escorted his fellows toward the center of the room, speaking to them in stilted French.

“Sit,” the Ieldra requested, gesturing to the empty chair to her right. I nodded once more and took the offered seat. My tongue darted out unbidden to lick my burning lips, and my gaze drifted to the cup before her on the table that I was certain was not there before. Her lips curled into a catlike smile.

“I hear you had a bit of a feast on your way in, Mister Starling,” she began, raising the cup to her lips, and the vitae within stained them red. It was all I could do to not stare at them, but her eyes remained on mine. “Would that explain your tardiness? Normally, you are so punctual.”

I swallowed hard, then nodded once more. “Yes, my lady,” I murmured. “It was a bit of clumsiness on my part, and I am truly sorry for any inconvenience–”

“And you still hunger.” Her tone grew sharper than the blade on my hip, and the ice in my spine melted, turning to water in my bowels. Were I still mortal, the reek of shit would have given me away.

“Worry not,” she continued with a resigned sigh. “I know this hunger is not your own. Your plight is by no means common, thought it has happened before. Normally, it does not even come to my attention, and if the poor afflicted soul survives the night, the condition may fade over time, but more frequently, it takes root so deeply that his ravenous hunger forces a more final solution.”

I am not a man to pray, but as the Ieldra explained, my mind concocted supplications to the Almighty, the God of the Jews, and all spirits the Weihan Cynn revered to spare me. “Am I entirely lost, m’lady?” I managed to reply.

“Not in the least.” She rolled her eyes. “You are lucky. Some of my allies were looking for that same woman to levy the same fate on her that you did by accident. They can alleviate it. Your payment to me for this is to deliver a small gift, which you will fetch from Cicely Rowe. Bring it to the Lodenstane, intact, before you kill again from your hunger. The recipient will be waiting there for you. One of my daughters will accompany you to ensure the proper forms are followed, but you must be the one to deliver it. Return to me before dawn with whatever they give you. You have my word that nothing in your delivery includes a command or request for its recipient to kill you upon delivery.”

I nodded, and I could feel my body relax and uncoil as she spoke the words required by the Post’s rules to allow me to accept the task. “Of course, my lady. As is right and proper.”

The Ieldra raised her hand, palm up, and then Gwendolyn approached, as if waiting in the wings at the Globe. Her milk-white skin and golden hair were the stuff of sonnets, even in life. When I left London, she still breathed and reveled in the sun warming her face. Now, the warmth that livened her bosom, a warmth I relished in moments of quiet between travels, was gone. She clasped the Ieldra’s extended hand, but when her eyes alighted on me, her sweet lips, once ruddy with kisses but now pale, parted in a startled gasp. “You! You’re…” she began, and a hint of girlish trembling made her clutch the box tighter.

The Ieldra’s smile spread, and she brought Gwendolyn’s hand to her lips, kissing the girl’s fingers gently to soothe her. Still, Gwendolyn stared at me in horror.

“I know she was a favorite of yours,” the Ieldra explained to me. “And for good reason. But she was mine long before she was ever yours. Remember that. She will go with you. You’ve taken good care of her before. I expect nothing less from you now.” With a gentle push to the small of her back, the Ieldra guided Gwendolyn to me, and I could not help but open my arms to her. My fangs pierced my tongue as I recalled the taste of her from many a visit to her bed. My Beast roared in fury in my chest, especially as Gwendolyn recoiled from the offered embrace.

“Go, both of you,” the Ieldra commanded. “Time is precious. To fail is to commit treason. But I would advise getting a proper meal beforehand.” The knowing smile on her lips as she turned away set my teeth to gnashing behind tightly closed lips. I snatched Gwendolyn’s hand and practically dragged her behind me as I left the hall.

Find out what Gwendolyn and Mister Starling are going to do about Starling’s “condition” in Tales of the Dark Eras, available now in ebook and print from DriveThruFiction!

[sansa-hand-of-the-king]

The seven

I have been reading about the seven gods in westeros, and it came to me a stupid theory that i wanted to write.  The seven gods are:

1) The Father (Tyrion)   2) The Mother (Danaerys)   3) The Maiden (Sansa)  4)The Warrior (Jon)  5) The Smith (Gendry)  6) The Crown  (Bran) 7) The Stranger. (Arya).   I am going to explain this under the cut because its LONG: 

1) The Father (Tyrion):  

 The Father's face is stern and strong,he sits and judges right from wrong. He weighs our lives, the short and long, and loves the little children.  Tyrion is not doubt the most intelligent man in the books, he is smart and loves his little nephews. But the most intersting fact is that he has a lot of quotes about justice and a strong opinion about what is right or wrong 

“Is this how justice is done in the Vale?" Tyrion roared, so loudly that Ser Vardis froze for an instant. "Does honor stop at the Bloody Gate? You accuse me of crimes, I deny them, so you throw me into an open cell to freeze and starve." He lifted his head, to give them all a good look at the bruises Mord had left on his face. "Where is the king's justice? Is the Eyrie not part of the Seven Kingdoms? I stand accused, you say. Very well. I demand a trial! Let me speak, and let my truth or falsehood be judged openly, in the sight of gods and men."

"A trial by combat, deciding a man's guilt or innocence in the eyes of the gods by having two other men hack each other to pieces. Tells you something about the gods."

Nothing but this: I did not do it. Yet now I wish I had." He turned to face the hall, that sea of pale faces. "I wish I had enough poison for you all. You make me sorry that I am not the monster you would have me be, yet there it is. I am innocent, but I will get no justice here. You leave me no choice but to appeal to the gods. I demand trial by battle." 

 2) The Mother (Daenaerys):  

The Mother represents motherhood and nurturing. She is prayed to for fertility or compassion, and is depicted as smiling with love, embodying the concept of mercy. It is also said that the Mother could be fiercer than the Warrior when her children were in danger.  Dany is the mother of dragons, she was pregnant in the first book

This Mother of Dragons, this Breaker of Chains, is above all a rescuer 

Mirri Maz Duur had promised that she would never bear a living child. House Targaryen will end with me. That made her sad. “You must be my children,” she told the dragons, “my three fierce children. Arstan says dragons live longer than men, so you will go on after I am dead.” 

Mhysa!” a brown-skinned man shouted out at her. He had a child on his shoulder, a little girl, and she screamed the same word in her thin voice. “Mhysa! Mhysa!” Dany looked at Missandei. “What are they shouting?”“It is Ghiscari, the old pure tongue. It means ‘Mother.'”

She had them nailed to wooden posts around the plaza, each man pointing at the next. The anger was fierce and hot inside her when she gave the command; it made her feel like an avenging dragon. But later, when she passed the men dying on the posts, when she heard their moans and smelled their bowels and blood… It was just. It was. I did it for the children.

“My children need time to heal and learn. My dragons need time to grow and test their wings. And I need the same. I will not let this city go the way of Astapor. I will not let the harpy of Yunkai chain up those I’ve freed all over again.”

 Mother of dragons, Daenerys thought. Mother of monsters. What have I unleashed upon the world? A queen I am, but my throne is made of burned bones, and it rests on quicksand. Without dragons, how could she hope to hold Meereen, much less win back Westeros? I am the blood of the dragon,she thought. If they are monsters, so am I.

3) The Maiden (Sansa):

  The Maiden dances through the sky, she lives in every lover's sigh. Her smiles teach the birds to fly, and gives dreams to little children. The Maiden represents innocence and chastity. Sansa is always considered the Maiden in the tower of the ASOIF universe. She has her lady armor, her courtesy. She inspires bravery, and a sense of protection. She is considered beautiful ( and sansa has a strange connection to birds, songs and dreams)

“Thank you,’ she said when he was done. She was a good girl and always remembered her courtesies”

“I dreamt of a maid at a feast with purple serpents in her hair, venom dripping from their fangs.”

Have you seen a highborn maid of three-and-ten, with a fair face and auburn hair?

4) The Warrior (Jon):  

 The Warrior represents strength in battle. He is prayed to for courage and victory. He carries a sword. Jon is the song of Ice and Fire, he is known for his ability to fight. Not only he has a lot of connection to swords but he is considered the most brave and skilled by his brothers of the nightwatch

"Burning shafts hissed upward, trailing tongues of fire. Scarecrow brothers tumbled down, black cloaks ablaze. "Snow," an eagle cried, as foemen scuttled up the ice like spiders. Jon was armored in black ice, but his blade burned red in his fis”

“I pray for a glimpse of Azor Ahai, and R’hllor shows me only Snow

. . I am the sword in the darkness. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn . . .”

"A swordsman should be as good as his sword, Sam. Longclaw is Valarian Steel, but I am not. The Half-Hand could have killed me as easily as you swat a bug"

5)The Smith (Gendry):  

 The Smith represents crafts and labour. He is usually prayed to when work needs to be done, for strength. He carries a hammer.  I dont believe that because Gendry is introduced as a smith, but because he has a hammer, and is the character who is more associated with strenght

"I bet you do." She ran a hand along his arm. "I don't cost nothing to friends of Thoros and the lighting lord." "No, I said." Gendry rose abruptly and stalked away from the table out into the night. Bella turn to Arya. "Don't he like girls?" Arya shrugged. "He's just stupid. He likes to polish helmets and beat on swords with hammers.”

I'll smith for you," Gendry went to one knee before Lord Beric. "If you'll have me, m'lord, I could be of use. I've made tools and knives and once I made a helmet that wasn't so bad. One of the Mountain's men stole it from me when we was taken."Arya bit her lip. He means to leave me too."

Gendry was beating up a breastplate. When he worked nothing existed for him but the metal,bellows,fire the hammer was like  part of his arm. She watched the play of muscles in his chest and listened to the steel music he mad. He’s strong, she thought.  

6) The Stranger: Arya

The Stranger represents death and the unknown, and leads the dead to the other world. Whilst referred to as male, he is neither male nor female. Arya is linked to the faceless men, she is forced to  disguises  her self as a boy, she the character more associated with death in the books, and she has taken different names, and faces. Also outcast seems to have a deep connection with this god ( Arya had always considered herself an outcast)

Death holds no sweetness in this house. We are not warriors, nor soldiers, nor swaggering bravos puffed up with pride. We do not kill to serve some lord, to fatten our purses, to stroke our vanity. We never give the gift to please ourselves. Nor do we choose the ones we kill. We are but servants of the God of Many Faces.

7) The Crone: Brandon Stark 

The Crone represents wisdom and is prayed to for guidance. Her statues often show her with a lamp in one hand.  Bran is only nine but he is one of the most wise character in the series. He has the sight, because he is the three eyed raven. 

“Old stories are like old friends. You have to visit them from time to time”

“The strongest trees are rooted in the dark places of the earth. Darkness will be your cloak, your shield, your mother's milk. Darkness will make you strong”

“ The stone is strong... The roots of the trees grow deep, and under the ground the Kings of Winter sit their thrones. So long as those remained, Winterfell remained. It was not dead, just broken. Like me... I'm not dead either.”

Grrm works in seven. Seven books, seven kingdoms, seven gods and devils, and for me seven end game characters. Thats not to say all will end up alive, but these 7 character will impact the story in a major way for me. (yes gendry and sansa too...).

[ecotone99]

[HR] The Confession of William Kane

The following text is an excerpt from the last pages of William Kane’s diary, following an investigation of the various crimes he confessed to on the night of October 13th, 1911.

It is on this dreaded night that I must confess a story that has plagued me for six months now, which has now reached its final horrifying culmination. It is said that only true criminals would be near the point that my demons have driven me, so much to the point that after this crime against humanity is done, I shall put myself in the shackles that I belong. May God forgive the heinous act I am about to commit, for I believe no one else will.

The only person I am willing to plead forgiveness from is my mother. She warned me of the horrors of consuming foreign bodies, and it was her trust that I have forsaken the most. If you read this, mother, forgive me. You were all I had left in this world, aside from these fiends that have taken residence in my soul.

My journey began six months ago, April 13th of 1911, when I had finally discovered a lamp that I suspected would grant me wishes rivaled only by the great genies of ancient Arabic legend. It had taken me months of poring documents and records, until at last, I found the legendary artifact among a collection of useless knick-knacks in a desolate town, somewhere in the desert of New Mexico. Where the collector bought it from, I do not know, and I wish not to know. Seeing the effects it had upon me, the terrifying implications of knowing its owner are too great. I made the deal right there in the shop and realized too late the insane conclusions that would result from this.

To further explain that deal I made, I must begin by saying that it was wholly consensual on my behalf. I had wished for eternal life. The demons agreed to the proposal, on the stipulation that I would feed them for as long as I live. And I have done that; to a terrible degree. Little did I think of the consequences of the contract I had made until I began the first killings that would grow in magnitude over the course of months.

After only one week, I realized that I could feed them on cooked foods any longer. The only thing that satiates their palate is raw, living meat. It took a week for this to dawn on me, after awakening one night to a spider that had crawled into my mouth and had given me more sustenance than I had eaten in months. The first morsels following were small creatures: insects, mice, birds I rarely caught with a knife alone. I was slow at first. The devilish creatures were swift and difficult to catch. But I grew quick! I could easily outrun them after only a few days. Their small bodies satiated what the demons required.

But they always needed more from me.

After a week or so of constant hunting, I became less and less fulfilled by these small morsels. At the same time, I laid eyes on my neighbor’s new cat, bought only the week before my demonic contract. It was a plump, round thing; orange in color and quite lethargic. It was named aptly by my neighbor: Mr. Waddles, though I soon found that this cat was not male but female. The poor thing could hardly leap up to the window of her owners' apartment and always had to be let inside through the front door.

One afternoon, while my neighbor was at work, I spied the cat waiting outside the door of her owner. Ensuring no one was around, I snatched the creature. Oh, how it fought! I still have marks from its scythe-like claws to this day, raked across my forearms. But that’s always the best part of the hunt, in my opinion; the struggle of your prey as you bring it home for the feast. He made for quite a delicious morsel indeed.

It was a day after that first morbidly scrumptious meal that my neighbor set about questioning the neighborhood on her cat's whereabouts. She questioned me first of all. I always suspected that she had never liked me, and this recent disappearance only fueled her doubts about me. However, there was no question to be made on my behalf. I could not possibly know her cat's whereabouts. The creatures remaining bones—devoid of any meat or fat, no doubt—were buried beneath her very yard!

I have been often told by family and friends I have a sick sense of humor. After this and the subsequent events, I am not afraid to admit that they were right.

The plump feline nourished the demons for a few days, but it only took that long for them to garner their hunger once again. Every three days, they required a beast of similar size to that cat, Mr. Waddles. I severely hate myself now in showing the absolute enormity and filling capacity of that creature. Perhaps if I had waited longer to introduce that large of a meal, my situation would not have escalated so quickly. Posters piled up on the streets, posted on every street corner and lamp post, searching for the cats, dogs, puppies, and kittens I had snatched and eaten while they writhed in pain just days before.

I always returned the bones and inedible organs to their owners one way or another. Anonymous packages, discreet burials; the list of tactics I schemed were endless during this time. I continued this calling card for months, as the demons became satiated by the regular meals.

The pace picked up gradually, culminating three months in so that single day I was forced to consume one beloved pet. I slowly began to realize the unstable condition I had put myself in. I had to find a solution to feed these demons, and as if God himself had answered my constant prayers, one came. Her name was Sylvia White.

Sylvia was a young woman, twenty years of age with stark black hair and dainty, elvish features. She moved next door to me in my apartment complex, and I immediately took a liking to her, for the following two reasons.

She was single, had no one to look after, and, most importantly, no one to look after her. Through conversation, I learned that she had come here after a particularly nasty divorce that separated her from any family that would care for her. No one home meant significantly more opportunities for my plan to hatch in.

She was also not popular amongst the inhabitants of the neighborhood, either. I made sure of this by securing that I was the first person she met when she arrived. A few vile rumors were all it took for her to never talk to the neighbors on this street or the ones parallel. She also made it known to me that she knew no one in town. Besides me, of course. I made it evident that I was the only one in town that she could trust. Miraculously, she did.

Both of these reasons made her the perfect target.

It took one month for me to memorize her daily routine, from sunrise to sundown. You may find it perverted of me to do this, but it was my only choice. I believed that if I could satisfy the demons with an even greater sacrifice, then perhaps I would find a new way to habituate this lifestyle.

After doing this, I found the perfect interval to perform my crime. The thirty minutes she spends to get ready before bed are when she is particularly vulnerable, and it is then that I entered her home stealthily and incapacitated her by asphyxiation. I must say that it brought me great pleasure to hunt this one. If anything, I saw it as the grand prize of the ghastly acts I have committed.

The culmination of all my crimes should leave me disgusted. However, I have felt more alive in six months than my entire thirty years of existence. I feel equal remorse towards my actions though, considering the great deal of stress it must have impressed upon my neighbors. It is from that fact that I have written this journal, to prove to my neighbors that I felt justified in my actions, if not sorry for their eaten companions.

She is chained in my bedroom as I write these final lines. I do not intend to desecrate her body further, as I do not lust after women the same way that many men seem to do. I wish only to consume, to fulfill the hunger of these demons so that I will go to prison knowing at least that I had at the very least tried.

After the deed is done, I hope to be put in the thickest and heaviest shackles fit for only the worst crimes against humanity possible. I am for these acts; the promise of immortality was too great, and to me it seemed worth the sacrifice of others.

The demons have plagued my life for well over half a year. I would like to believe that I will indeed live forever if only to feel the cruel punishment of eternal hunger. While they granted me immortality, our agreement never stipulated that I would not feel the pain that accompanies living indefinitely.

After one month of investigation, the following details were found regarding this case, which may influence how effectively this document can be used as evidence:

a. Sylvia White was alive at the time of these writings, and has since claimed that, “I have never met this man save for the day I arrived, in which he established himself as a harmful presence to me and I subsequently requested a restraining order from the court.” Documentation proves that this restraining order does indeed exist.

b. All of the locations where the pet corpses are supposedly buried have been investigated thoroughly. No remains, skeletal or otherwise, have been found.

c. William Kane had come into the station to confess his crime, this text in hand, covered in blood. He claimed the blood belonged to Sylvia White. The blood of Kane’s body is type A, Sylvia’s blood is type AB. Coincidentally, Kane’s blood is type A. It is unknown if the blood found on Kane’s body is his own or perhaps another suspect that he has as of yet disclosed to the authorities.

d. The lamp mentioned in the above text was found buried beneath Kane’s yard, filled with fresh blood. It is unknown how the blood has stayed fresh, as the contents above it appear to not have been disturbed for a week or more. The officer who discovered this object disappeared two weeks after the discovery. Following his departure, the lamp was found to be missing. It remains unaccounted for.

Due to a lack of evidence of crimes but clear evidence of mental deficiencies in the case of William Kane, the defendant has been released without charges pressed.

A week after this statement, Kane vanished with no trace. No one is aware of his current location.

submitted by /u/NexElu [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2ORud4B

[johnchiarello]

City of man

CITY OF MAN [all verses at bottom]

As I uploaded to Youtube- someone hacked my account and changed the settings to private- I have since fixed it- but we are tracing where it came from- possibly someone used a cell phone to illegally hack the account.  Update- looks like ‘the pings’ [Cell Tower] came from the Bluff] Hmm? [I posted- added multiple videos today because of the issue mentioned above- sorry if I ‘spammed’ you guys]

Zephaniah 3:1 Woe to her that is filthy and polluted, to the oppressing city!

Zephaniah 3:2 She obeyed not the voice; she received not correction; she trusted not in the LORD; she drew not near to her God.

NOT DEAD YET [See final video] https://youtu.be/AGx82c5oY-Q

https://vimeo.com/212150128 Vimeo

http://wp.me/a4V5qQ-yX  Wordpress

.Taft Police chief fired

.Netflix

.He was framed for rape- and they knew it [Avery case]

.Cops didn’t listen to other cops

.Unsolved murder in C.C.- cold case http://www.caller.com/story/news/crime/2017/01/24/local-runner-dies-tuesday-after-sunday-shooting-wreck/96992306/

.Parents went to media http://www.caller.com/story/news/crime/2017/04/01/searching-answers-waiting-justice/99119142/

CITY OF GOD https://youtu.be/SKTGPaIErgQ

https://vimeo.com/212151430 Vimeo

http://wp.me/a4V5qQ-yY  Wordpress

13 Bring no more vain oblations; incense is an abomination unto me; the new moons and sabbaths, the calling of assemblies, I cannot away with; it is iniquity, even the solemn meeting.

14 Your new moons and your appointed feasts my soul hateth: they are a trouble unto me; I am weary to bear them.

15 And when ye spread forth your hands, I will hide mine eyes from you: yea, when ye make many prayers, I will not hear: your hands are full of blood.

16 Wash you, make you clean; put away the evil of your doings from before mine eyes; cease to do evil;

17 Learn to do well; seek judgment, relieve the oppressed, judge the fatherless, plead for the widow.

.Cop made sketch from earlier mugshot

.Skurka- CCPD

.State of the church in C.C.?

.Gaytan case- yes- again [the MEXICAN kid is still in prison!]

.Titus- Saint Augustine

.The City of God

.And yes- a Dan McQueen quote [sorry]

GOD’S COURT https://youtu.be/gqlrsNN18hI

https://vimeo.com/212152888 Vimeo

http://wp.me/a4V5qQ-yZ  Wordpress

Luke 17:27

They did eat, they drank, they married wives, they were given in marriage, until the day that Noah entered into the ark, and the flood came, and destroyed them all.

.Harbor bridge fire

.Ran into ‘Nascar’

.He’s not dead yet! Just on life support [Person I mentioned earlier today]

.Susan Rice and the PBS interview

.’Jesus loves us all’ who said this? [You’ll have to watch]

.Mark Scott- Carolyn Vaughn

.Circuit court got involved

.Judge Guy Williams recommends suing  D.A. [Skurka]

.Much time and money spent on the perceived ‘injustice’ of Scott circumventing the system- yet the real atrocities- and crimes committed against the homeless are swept under the rug.

.Chief Markle- CCPD

Verses-

Zephaniah 1:1 The word of the LORD which came unto Zephaniah the son of Cushi, the son of Gedaliah, the son of Amariah, the son of Hizkiah, in the days of Josiah the son of Amon, king of Judah.

Zephaniah 1:2 I will utterly consume all things from off the land, saith the LORD.

Zephaniah 1:3 I will consume man and beast; I will consume the fowls of the heaven, and the fishes of the sea, and the stumblingblocks with the wicked: and I will cut off man from off the land, saith the LORD.

Zephaniah 1:4 I will also stretch out mine hand upon Judah, and upon all the inhabitants of Jerusalem; and I will cut off the remnant of Baal from this place, and the name of the Chemarims with the priests;

Zephaniah 1:5 And them that worship the host of heaven upon the housetops; and them that worship and that swear by the LORD, and that swear by Malcham;

Zephaniah 1:6 And them that are turned back from the LORD; and those that have not sought the LORD, nor enquired for him.

Zephaniah 1:7 Hold thy peace at the presence of the Lord GOD: for the day of the LORD is at hand: for the LORD hath prepared a sacrifice, he hath bid his guests.

Zephaniah 1:8 And it shall come to pass in the day of the LORD's sacrifice, that I will punish the princes, and the king's children, and all such as are clothed with strange apparel.

Zephaniah 1:9 In the same day also will I punish all those that leap on the threshold, which fill their masters' houses with violence and deceit.

Zephaniah 1:10 And it shall come to pass in that day, saith the LORD, that there shall be the noise of a cry from the fish gate, and an howling from the second, and a great crashing from the hills.

Zephaniah 1:11 Howl, ye inhabitants of Maktesh, for all the merchant people are cut down; all they that bear silver are cut off.

Zephaniah 1:12 And it shall come to pass at that time, that I will search Jerusalem with candles, and punish the men that are settled on their lees: that say in their heart, The LORD will not do good, neither will he do evil.

Zephaniah 1:13 Therefore their goods shall become a booty, and their houses a desolation: they shall also build houses, but not inhabit them; and they shall plant vineyards, but not drink the wine thereof.

Zephaniah 1:14 The great day of the LORD is near, it is near, and hasteth greatly, even the voice of the day of the LORD: the mighty man shall cry there bitterly.

Zephaniah 1:15 That day is a day of wrath, a day of trouble and distress, a day of wasteness and desolation, a day of darkness and gloominess, a day of clouds and thick darkness,

Zephaniah 1:16 A day of the trumpet and alarm against the fenced cities, and against the high towers.

Zephaniah 1:17 And I will bring distress upon men, that they shall walk like blind men, because they have sinned against the LORD: and their blood shall be poured out as dust, and their flesh as the dung.

Zephaniah 1:18 Neither their silver nor their gold shall be able to deliver them in the day of the LORD's wrath; but the whole land shall be devoured by the fire of his jealousy: for he shall make even a speedy riddance of all them that dwell in the land.

Zephaniah 2:1 Gather yourselves together, yea, gather together, O nation not desired;

Zephaniah 2:2 Before the decree bring forth, before the day pass as the chaff, before the fierce anger of the LORD come upon you, before the day of the LORD's anger come upon you.

Zephaniah 2:3 Seek ye the LORD, all ye meek of the earth, which have wrought his judgment; seek righteousness, seek meekness: it may be ye shall be hid in the day of the LORD's anger.

Zephaniah 2:4 For Gaza shall be forsaken, and Ashkelon a desolation: they shall drive out Ashdod at the noon day, and Ekron shall be rooted up.

Zephaniah 2:5 Woe unto the inhabitants of the sea coast, the nation of the Cherethites! the word of the LORD is against you; O Canaan, the land of the Philistines, I will even destroy thee, that there shall be no inhabitant.

Zephaniah 2:6 And the sea coast shall be dwellings and cottages for shepherds, and folds for flocks.

Zephaniah 2:7 And the coast shall be for the remnant of the house of Judah; they shall feed thereupon: in the houses of Ashkelon shall they lie down in the evening: for the LORD their God shall visit them, and turn away their captivity.

Zephaniah 2:8 I have heard the reproach of Moab, and the revilings of the children of Ammon, whereby they have reproached my people, and magnified themselves against their border.

Zephaniah 2:9 Therefore as I live, saith the LORD of hosts, the God of Israel, Surely Moab shall be as Sodom, and the children of Ammon as Gomorrah, even the breeding of nettles, and saltpits, and a perpetual desolation: the residue of my people shall spoil them, and the remnant of my people shall possess them.

Zephaniah 2:10 This shall they have for their pride, because they have reproached and magnified themselves against the people of the LORD of hosts.

Zephaniah 2:11 The LORD will be terrible unto them: for he will famish all the gods of the earth; and men shall worship him, every one from his place, even all the isles of the heathen.

Zephaniah 2:12 Ye Ethiopians also, ye shall be slain by my sword.

Zephaniah 2:13 And he will stretch out his hand against the north, and destroy Assyria; and will make Nineveh a desolation, and dry like a wilderness.

Zephaniah 2:14 And flocks shall lie down in the midst of her, all the beasts of the nations: both the cormorant and the bittern shall lodge in the upper lintels of it; their voice shall sing in the windows; desolation shall be in the thresholds; for he shall uncover the cedar work.

Zephaniah 2:15 This is the rejoicing city that dwelt carelessly, that said in her heart, I am, and there is none beside me: how is she become a desolation, a place for beasts to lie down in! every one that passeth by her shall hiss, and wag his hand.

Zephaniah 3:1 Woe to her that is filthy and polluted, to the oppressing city!

Zephaniah 3:2 She obeyed not the voice; she received not correction; she trusted not in the LORD; she drew not near to her God.

10 Hear the word of the Lord, ye rulers of Sodom; give ear unto the law of our God, ye people of Gomorrah.

11 To what purpose is the multitude of your sacrifices unto me? saith the Lord: I am full of the burnt offerings of rams, and the fat of fed beasts; and I delight not in the blood of bullocks, or of lambs, or of he goats.

12 When ye come to appear before me, who hath required this at your hand, to tread my courts?

13 Bring no more vain oblations; incense is an abomination unto me; the new moons and sabbaths, the calling of assemblies, I cannot away with; it is iniquity, even the solemn meeting.

14 Your new moons and your appointed feasts my soul hateth: they are a trouble unto me; I am weary to bear them.

15 And when ye spread forth your hands, I will hide mine eyes from you: yea, when ye make many prayers, I will not hear: your hands are full of blood.

16 Wash you, make you clean; put away the evil of your doings from before mine eyes; cease to do evil;

17 Learn to do well; seek judgment, relieve the oppressed, judge the fatherless, plead for the widow.

18 Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.

19 If ye be willing and obedient, ye shall eat the good of the land:

20 But if ye refuse and rebel, ye shall be devoured with the sword: for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it.

21 How is the faithful city become an harlot! it was full of judgment; righteousness lodged in it; but now murderers.

22 Thy silver is become dross, thy wine mixed with water:

23 Thy princes are rebellious, and companions of thieves: every one loveth gifts, and followeth after rewards: they judge not the fatherless, neither doth the cause of the widow come unto them.

24 Therefore saith the Lord, the Lord of hosts, the mighty One of Israel, Ah, I will ease me of mine adversaries, and avenge me of mine enemies:

25 And I will turn my hand upon thee, and purely purge away thy dross, and take away all thy tin:

26 And I will restore thy judges as at the first, and thy counsellors as at the beginning: afterward thou shalt be called, The city of righteousness, the faithful city.

27 Zion shall be redeemed with judgment, and her converts with righteousness.

28 And the destruction of the transgressors and of the sinners shall be together, and they that forsake the Lord shall be consumed.

Isaiah

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[latinamericandreams]

Chapter 10 - The wake up call

Diario del sottocomandante,

The wake up call kept insisting, and after snoozing ten times I woke up.  I opened my eyes to find myself in a cosy room back home.  It had already been one week since I was sleeping in this same bed.  Quite strange considering that in the last year I had changed hundreds of beds.  I was dreaming about snowy mountains and beautiful blue lakes.  They were obviously flashes from my trip.  The backpack was still half unpacked lying in the middle of my room so I decided that now that my dream was over I had to start becoming pro active, unpack it and start sorting out my life back in Malta.  I got out of the bed only to let apathy take over and lied again.  Post vacation blues is very common among travellers going back home after a long time travelling.  Personally I never had it, even after my last 9 month trip.  This time however it hit me really bad.  Probably the amount of jetlag, and shit weather outside made it even worse.  I was spending my first week trying to avoid contact with everyone, looking at photos from the trip and researching flights for my next vacation (even tough I was about €4000 under).

In the next days I slowly started readjusting to my life back home.  Weather was getting better.  I was meeting all my family and friends.  I partied a bit and started rock climbing again.  Life in general started feeling better.   I started unpacking my backpack and reorganizing everything.  Every piece of clothing or item took me back to an exact moment during my trip, and it seemed that while taking stuff out of the bag I was entering different dimensions and taken back in time.  I can safely say that my backpack became a time machine.

As I took a metal shot glass out and held it in my hand, the background scenery started changing until I found myself about a year ago in a hostel room in Fortaleza – Brazil.  I was still holding the same shot glass in my hand and there was Marsim hugging me and telling me how excited she was to see me again!  It was the few first hours in Brazil and she had just given me the present that she got from Russia.  We soon met Talita and went out on what was going to be the first of many street parties in Brazil.  After that, the sensual and vibrant lifestyle of Brazil had got us.  The scenes I was in started fast-forwarding on a rollercoaster ride down the east coast fuelled by alcohol, heavy partying and beaching! We experienced the most celebrated feast in Brazil i.e. Carnival, partied in the best clubs, visited beautiful tropical cities like Rio, Salvador and Floranapolis, went through natural wonders like the wetlands of Pantanal, the abysmal caves of Bonito and the unreal falls of Iguazzu until I woke up on the border of Uruguay at 4am in the morning surrounded by five new persons – Mark, Kristina, Fabian, Nick and Fi.

I shook myself back into reality, put the shot glass away and kept unpacking my backpack.  I couldn’t help but being transported back in time again as soon as I spotted my snorkel mask between all the shirts and bits and pieces.  I wore it and soon found myself diving into the sea at night while it was pitch black.  As soon as I dived, the water lit up with millions of tiny green sparkles all dancing around me.  The sky was in turn sprinkled with millions of white sparkles and the beautiful blue hues of the milky way.  There was Kristina and she asked me “Isn’t this the most amazing thing you’ve seen in your life?”.  We were in Cabo Polonio – Uruguay swimming into the sea crowded with fully-charged florescent plankton.  I felt that nice travelling feeling as I got out of the water and greeted the rest of the group.  This was my first travelling crew and soon I also felt that shit feeling while I was telling them bye at the border of Argentina to continue travelling solo.

Back in my room in Malta I found the box of a mobile.  I held it and swishhhhh ... there was Mark infront of me laughing and telling me “That’s the box mate… you can claim it on insurance”.  A day before that he was feeling sorry for me not getting any action so he offered me his smart phone, and installed tinder for me.  That night in Buenos Aires - Argentina I went on a massive bender and came back to the Milhouse hostel with full shame, waking Mark up to give him the bad news.  “Dude you can’t believe it … someone stole the mobile phone that you lent me” .. he just laughed and told me to claim it on insurance.  That night I couldn’t sleep so I did some antics by getting naked and locking myself in one of the cages used to store backpacks.  Mark gave me a sleeping pill and I passed out in the cage.  I was feeling my liver about to give in during the massive benders we had in Buenos Aires.  Mark and me partied hard there, went to Lollapalooza, tango nights and outdoor parties until we decided to start a healthy lifestyle and flew down to the edge of the world in Ushuaia.  The scenes started fast-forwarding again up the peaks of the Andes, upon mighty glaciers and inside tents on cold nights in Patagonia until I saw myself again giving my last farewell to Mark - my 2 month travelling brother.

Oh wow, time to start unpacking the shirts and the first one on top was a red shirt saying ‘I survived the W trek’.  I found myself in a bar in Torres del Paines, talking to probably the drunkest guy in Chile.  My Spanish had already started taking shape so I could hold a drunk conversation.  He asked me “Me gusta tu camiceta, la quieres cambiar conmigo?” (I like your shirt, wanna swap with mine?).  As much as I loved the shirt I was wearing, I loved his shirt too.  I had just finished the W trek – a 6 day trek into the most amazing scenery of Patagonia and the world.  I wanted those six days to be stuck with me for as long as possible, so I said “Claro” and we swapped shirts.  Around me there were the familiar faces of all the people who finished the trek.  Oh – Itai, Solenne, Laura, Jose, Eduardo!  This was going to be my next travelling crew all the way up to Santiago – the middle of Chile.  Together we started exploring the amazing fjords of Southern Chile, the crystal clear lakes and forests of Bariloche and Bolson and the volcanoes of Chiloe and Pucon.  Finally we made it to the party center of Chile - Valparaiso.  Here the crew had grown up to over ten people with Thomas, Antoine, Bertille, Adele and Stephanie all joining in as we conquered our way up Chile.  The fossilized salt, I found in the top pockets of my bag, warped time again a few weeks forward all the way up to the desert of Atacama.  Here I was solo again exploring the dry alien landscapes and the surreal mountains and lakes of this desert until a jeep ride later I was in the vast salt flats of the Salar de Uyuni.  Exploring Bolivia indeed felt like travelling to a completely different continent, as now the indigenous influence was much more obvious than the previous four countries. I could see it in the way the people look and act, the traditions, the food etc.  I could feel that life here became slower and rawer.  I wasn’t close to the sea anymore; instead I was now in the dense jungle lying down with a puma by my side.  I could again feel that adrenaline when she chased me to play and all the affection she gave me.  I was now with my other adventure buddy.  This time not a human, but an ocelot – exploring untouched pieces of the jungle, cutting new trails and discovering hidden trees and places.  It wasn’t only cats I was sharing these experiences with. There were my partners in crime Celine, Stef, Will and Max running rampages down forgotten Bolivian towns, drinking and enjoying being sick of Jungle fever.  More adventures followed, and I was by now exploring the remotest of the Bolivian villages until entering the Amazon for a survival trip and partying one last time in the great capital of Bolivia – La Paz – the sin city.

Only few last things were left in the backpack, but the memories, all these items were bringing back, were nowhere to stop.  A yellow euro football shirt saying, “I scored in LOKI” brought me into the backroom on top of a bar somewhere in Cusco - Peru.  I was presented with a choice of 4 tshirts, and I told Jacob “Yeah I like the yellow one”.  I wore it, went downstairs and started my first shift behind the bar into the craziest hostel in the world.  A whole intense month packed with bloodbombs, beautiful friendships, beautiful girls and massive parties ridiculous amount of parties.  I was revisiting all this chaos, until time slowed down again and I found myself at Cuzco’s airport picking up my dad, my travel buddy for the next three weeks.  Together we climbed to the lost city of Maccu Picchu, explored deserts, sea side villages up to the summits of the Corradilera Blanca and down into the deep waters of the Galapagos islands where we danced with turtles, hammerheads and sea lions.  I left my dad and went back in Loki - Mancora - Peru to work as an events manager.  Another intense month and a half, were with my partners, Lucio and Ewelina, we took up the events of this hostel to new proportions with massive parties and fun activities.  I could see the birth of the Pirates of Mancora here, were weeks consisted of sunset drinks on our boat, pirate parties, treasure hunts and rowdy benders. I was seeing hundreds of faces coming and going until in the end it seems that I had too much blues to deal with and I left.

I was back in my room, finished unpacking my backpack and organized everything.  I was pretty much settled now back home here in Malta.  Slowly I also got used to the little things, which I found shockingly different at first.  For example it seemed strange to reply with a ‘what?’ rather than a ‘che?’ or being able to flush toilet paper down the toilet.  I went to my studio to play drums for the first time after one year.  As I expected, I was sooooo rusty.  I couldn’t even finish a drum fill, or keep a straight rock beat.  At some point I started playing some samba and salsa rhythms and without knowing I went into an hour trans of full-on Latin drumming.  I don’t know from where all the drum patterns and rhythms were coming, but I just kept banging my heart out onto the drum kit.  Unconsciously the Latin rhythm was now fully running into my blood stream.  All those salsa and samba sounds that I was exposed to, anywhere I went in south America, were slowly making their way into my unconscious.  I came out of the studio happy about my impromptu performance still with the shirt and a necklace in my hand.

Oh and that necklace.   One last item to take me a few months back.  I found myself in Banos – Ecuador near the famous swing at the end of the world. I was observing a stand of a craftsman and was intrigued by this ring made out of precious stones weaved into each other.  A friendly man called Camillo approached me and said he was from Colombia.  We talked for ages and finally asked him how much money for the precious ring.  It was too steep for me, but then he showed a necklace, which was actually a coin cut into two parts, forming two necklaces that fit into each other.  He explained the meaning of the symbols, and told me to keep one part for me, and give the other part to someone special.  I knew exactly whom I would give it to.  The girl that without knowing convinced me to leave Peru and follow my heart up to Ecuador.  The girl who inspired me so much in everything she did.  My travel buddy and also my soul mate.  We travelled all of Ecuador together were every day was more exciting than the previous one.  We climbed volcanos, bungee jumped, cycled and visited the beautiful colonial cities of Ecuador.  We carried on and crossed to Colombia for some daring adventures, horse riding, chilled nights in the middle of nowhere, camping adventures in the lush deserts and hills of Colombia, until we pushed our boundaries to go where no one dared going. We travelled to Venezuela to discover a country falling to pieces, but with a very strong sense of identity and awesome natural phenomena like the relampago.  Our days together were coming to end so we visited the whole north coast of Colombia in the Caribbean sea, hopping from one beach to the next sleeping into postcard perfect places.   My dream eventually came to an end and eleven months down the line I bid farewell to this great person and this great continent.

Of course thinking about this one-year dream brings a lot of blues, but I was lucky enough to live my dream.  At some point there comes the wake up call, which will show you that perfect dreams don’t last forever.  You can snooze as much as you like, but finally you have to wake up. Once you wake up you can either feel like shit because it was only a dream, or otherwise thank god you’re awake again, live the day and look forward for the evening to start living your next dream!

That was my Latin American Dream.

I am now looking forward to live my next one.

Thanks to all the readers of this blog for the massive support you gave me.  Everyone likes stats so here’s a few:

Days travelled: 326

Number of Countries: 9 –

Brazil (45 days), Uruguay (9 days), Argentina (18 days), Chile (33 days), Bolivia (60 days), Peru (82 days), Ecuador (25 days), Colombia (38 days), Venezuela (7 days)

Kilometers travelled (excluding incoming and outgoing flights): 28,330.5 km

Hops: approx. 100

Highest altitude: 5750m - Vallajuanhu summit (Peru)

Lowest altitude: -35m - Galapagos (Ecuador)

Northest: 11.2882° N, 74.1517° W - Tayrona (Colombia)

Southest: 54.8019° S, 68.3030° W - Ushuaia (Argentina)

Methods of transport: bus, minivan, ferry, taxi, train, motorbike, flight, horse

Longest single bus ride: 24 hours - Santiago to San pedro De Atacama (Chile)

Longest hop: approx. 36hrs - San Ignacio de Velasco to Rurrenabaque (Bolivia)

Outdoor activities: Sandboarding, Surfing, Kayaking, Rock climbing, Paragliding, Trekking, Mountaineering, Diving, Ice climbing, Bungee swing, Cycling, Quadbike, Horse riding, Caving

Days camping: 22 days

Number of treks: 18

Tierra del Fuego (Argentina), Perito Moreno (Argentina), Fitzroy (Argentina), Torres del Paine (Chile), Cajon Azul (Argentina), El Cane (Chile), Samaipata (Bolivia), Rurrenabaque (Bolivia), Salkantay (Peru), Rainbow mountain (Peru), Laguna 69 (Peru), Mount Vallanuranju (Peru), Galapagos (Ecuador), Macchu Piccu (Peru), Quilitoa loop (Ecuador), Cotopaxi (Ecuador), Tayrona park (Colombia), Salento (Colombia)

Bike Rides: 7

El Bolson (Argentina), Valle della muerte (Chile), Valle della luna (Chile), Death Road (Bolivia), Paracas (Peru), Cuenca (Ecuador), Banos waterfall loop (Ecuador)

Longest trek: 6 days – Torres del Paine

Top exciting experiences:

Wildlife (Bolivia, Peru, Galapagos)

Mountaineering (Ecuador)

Survival Jungle Trip (Bolivia)

Death Road (Bolivia)

Horse Riding in San Augustin (Colombia)

Top parties:

Salvador and Rio carnival (Brazil)

Lollapalooza festival - Buenos Aires (Argentina)

San Paulo (Brazil)

Desert Party (Chile)

Peru Independence Day (Peru)

Cartagena Independence Day (Colombia)

Top drinks:

Caipirinha (Brazil)

Terremoto (Chile)

Wine (Chile)

Pisco Sour (Peru)

Michelada (Colombia)

Bloodbombs (Loki - Peru)

Top food:

Steak (Argentina)

Cevice (Ecuador)

Casuera (Chile)

Brazil beach food (Brazil)

Tallarines (Peru)

Top places to stay:

Pousada Xama (Pipa - Brazil),

Casa del arbol (El Bolson - Argentina)

Loki (cuzco, mancora - Peru)

Rose Cottage (Otolavo - Ecuador),

Hotel Campestre Las Heliconias (Zetaquira - Colombia) 

Top natural shows:

Torres del Paine sunrise (Chile)

Flocks of birds in Islas Ballestas (Peru)

San pedro - Valle della muerte sunset (Chile)

Relampago (Venezuela)

Flourescent Plankton (Uruguay)

Top places to visit:

Galapagos Islands (Ecuador)

Macchu Piccu (Peru)

Foz do Iguazzu (Brazil / Argentina)

Salar de Uyuni (Bolivia)

Torres del Paine (Chile)

Top beaches:

Cabo Polonio (Uruguay)

Custeno beach (Colombia)

Jericoacoara (Brazil)

Ilha grande (Brazil)

Baia del la Tortuga (Galapagos - Ecuador)

Top colonial architecture:

Cuzco (Peru)

Paraty (Brazil)

Cartagena (Colombia)

Colonia del Sacramento (Uruguay)

Villa de Leyva (Colombia)

Top cities:

San Paulo (Brazil)

Rio (Brazil)

Buenos aires (Argentina)

Valparaiso (Chile)

Quito (Ecuador)

Cartagena (Colombia)

Top songs:

Los Autenticos Decadentes - La Guitarra

Enanitos Verdes - Lamento Boliviano

Ráfaga - Una Cerveza

Molotov - Puto

A.N.I.M.A.L - Familia