#this one's been in my drafts forever but its been 1 year since the world ended (s4 aired) so here it is

[sweetmilkbread]

Gone Girl (2014) / Succession (2018-2023)

[im-bored-so-i-draw]

Burst of inspiration :DDD

I have this concept of silverfish!silverr for such a long time and this is me trying to write the idea down

My drawing pad(?) broke and its been so long since i tried watercolor so the colors are not right in here..

Ref part 1|part 2

WARNING: i ramble below about this idea but my English is bad (and its long)

So first of all i just want to point out that I made him TOO buff. Just saying.

So you know these guys right (This is what my whole reference page is 😭).

'They are fast and they are named SILVERfish so why not base silverr from this?' Is my thought process. He is fast and silver(fish)rruns is not safe from my designing-everything-in-sight-manias ass.

(Thorax: legs)

We start off from the horns. The horns/antenna is a solidified shell around his antenna, slowly covering the whole part in an extremely slow process. The antenna part that is still exposed is working normally to help silverr see. Since you know. He's blind.

Now his back/legs. Well. Legs. Why is it on the shell? Ok now every silverfish spawned is just like that. I have no defense but it looks cool.

2 upper thorax has 4 joints and is bigger than the lower thorax. This made these legs move more freely and faster. But the drawback is that they are heavy.

The lower thorax is a lot lighter and shorter. These two legs are mainly a support for the upper thorax. These thorax also only have 3 joints.

His arms are actually his legs but got mutated(? Modified?) You can actually see the joints visible (some joints are dead so he can't use them). It also has the same hard shell with the horns/antenna at the top.

His legs are also a mutated form of thorax. With some hard shells covering most of his lower leg. The lil hairies is in every part of his body but most visible in the lower legs!

About his tail? Its not actually a tail but a decoration from his cape. (Page 2) he does have a tail but it doesn't get carried to his human form.

Now about the whole deal with him.

Silverfish usually don't live too long, mostly being 8 years or so. Silverr, who is no different, have a different approach for this topic. Instead of growing old, he started to collect this magic orb/pearl from dragons, willingly or not. This magic pearls contains a fraction of dragons power and magic. But having just 1 of these only extends his life for 1 month. One dragon can produce 1-21 pearls, depending on many reasons. Mainly of how powerful the dragon is, technique to absorb it, and how long the dragon lived. The ability to absorb some of the dragon's power and turn it into an object is only possessed by some mobs, and silverfish is one of them.

Most silverfish have 2-10 pearls, scavenging anything remains from a dead dragon. They are not capable of fighting the dragon so they usually wait for a player to slay it.

Silverr is quite lucky to spawn on a completed portal and a freshly slain dragon (more likely by a speedrunner too!). He managed to restore all 23 pearls from the dragon.

Dragon orbs not only can extend their life, but they can use that magic to do... Magic and spells? With this power, they can also change into a human. Well lets say silverr starts running.

Silverr goal is not only to live longer, but he is planning to become a dragon. Why? Immortal. At least until someone kills him. A dragon can live forever as long as there are no one slashing his neck. Also power. Also cool i guess. (Draft)

That's why he went from worlds through worlds to kill their dragon. A part of this dragonification is the growing of hard shells all across his body. When all of his antennas get hard shells around them, he finally counts as a dragon.

Clearly there are a lot i havent write down, but im too sleepy for it.

[caxycreations]

You can all have a little WIP, as a treat

Super happy, so I'm gonna give y'all a snippet of the newest draft of Tylvinian Tales: The Wolf's Den.

Enjoy!

Tylvinian Tales: The Wolf's Den

Chapter One, Paragraphs 1-3

The crowd before me cheered, bodies jumping, moving, writhing in time with the beat of the music pouring into the room. As the bass thumped, feet stomped, and the thrum of the dance floor could be felt all around. At the center of the crowd, with people on all sides of him, dancing with wild abandon and not a care in the world, there amid the excitement stood David Seltz. He was my best friend in the world, the man I’d grown up with and spent the better part of my life with so far. Entirely platonic, of course. We were friends, and even with our jokes and the games of chicken we would play, it never went further than that.

My name is Ryder Trayson, I’m a Grey Greatwolf. I live in Tylvin, the capitol city of Ferus, where I work as a freelance musician. I’m pretty tall, standing a little over seven feet. My fur is a greyish blue color, and my eyes are amber orange. Most of the time I work as a DJ for various clubs around the city, but tonight I was working for free. It was worth it, given I was playing for one man’s most important day of the year. It was the twenty-third day of Fina, year four thousand and nineteen. David’s twenty-first birthday. He had asked me to play for him tonight, even offering to pay me, but I couldn’t do that to him.

I was honored he wanted me to perform for his birthday and the idea of making him pay me for it left a bad feeling in my stomach. The music swelled, and the crowd lost themselves in its ebb and flow as the melody played. I had a buffet of stimulation before me. Sights, sounds, smells, textures. But my eyes kept drifting back to the hybrid dancing in the center of the crowd. David. He was a caxy, a hybrid between fox and cat species. He was half snow fox and half Maltese, a blend that worked well together if he and his sister’s physique and fur patterns were anything to go by. They were all monochrome shades. Greys, whites, blacks. The only splash of real color they had on them was their hair and their eyes.

End of Preview

Oh! And just so y'all can see the difference? I'll throw in Chapter 1, Paragraphs 1-3 below!

A Cat in the Wolf's Den

Chapter 1, Paragraphs 1-3

The bar was crowded tonight. I didn't usually do work for places like this, my music was more fitting for the clubs and dance halls around town. But tonight was a special circumstance. My best friend, David, was having his 21st birthday party here and had asked if i'd DJ for him, even paying off the bar owners to let me bring my own gear here. This place was special to him. It was where he found his first real love, before they had left him and moved off to god knows where. I couldn't really fault David for wanting his birthday party here, and who am I to turn down a request as simple as this for a friend?

My name's Ryder. Ryder Trayson. I'm 22 years old, and I've been a DJ ever since I was 14. I've known David since I was 3, and we've never been any less than best friends. There's not a lot to say about me. I like music, I work out now and then, not that I need to. Being a Great Grey Wolf has its perks, including a healthy dose of muscles that most would kill for. Of course, it also comes with a massive appetite. I can eat just about as much as the hungriest hog and still want more. But hey, you're not here to listen to me go on about myself forever. Let's get back to the story, yeah? One more thing about me is that I don't care much for talking about me.

The music blared throughout the building, and I could see some of the patrons getting irritated and complaining to workers. Probably regulars that weren't used to people having fun. I felt my phone buzz in my pocket and, after setting up the next couple songs to play on their own, I checked it. David had texted me saying he wanted me to play Digging Alone, a pretty upbeat song that I had promised to play before the night was up. I cancelled the other two songs in the queue and, as the current song finished, I gave my best wolfish grin, turned off the music, and grabbed my mic. "Alright everyone, we got a request from the big man himself! So you can thank him for the next beat!" I let out a howl of excitement as I turned on the song, and heard a chorus of cheers from the crowd below as the music began.

End of Preview

My writing has changed so, so much, and I'm honestly so much happier with the new version. The old one is outdated and painful to read cause like, WOW there's so much stuff that's just a result of the inexperience.

But

Yeah

Thank you all for reading this far, ha

@heavensfallenfaction @stesierra

Tagged folks I thought might be interested to read it

[britishsass]

Mr. Zanotto

For @perish-lolz and their Psychonauts Worldbuilding Challenge, I'd like to discuss a character who is brought up a couple times, but never actually shows up in the game in any form other than photographs: Bob Zanotto's father.

To start off, I'd like to note what we already know to be fact about him.

He was Tia's husband.

They had two kids at least, since Bob is an uncle.

He is dead.

We have very little information about him overall, but there are some things we can infer.

Exhibit 1: Tia Plant's statement during the boss fight.

She refers to "Another dead soldier," but since she fell apart after the death of her husband, it can be assumed that Mr. Zanotto was a soldier who died-- most likely, in combat. The fact that in Tia's Greenhouse, her grave is shown to be not next to anyone else's? That implies that there was no body for them to bury.

Exhibit 2: The moth's statement about "Sailing away forever."

Personally, putting this with the heavy references to boats, sailing as the main mode of transport, and the fact that there is no body to bury, I would assume this to mean that his father died at sea-- and, specifically, meaning he was likely in the Navy.

Even so, I will acknowledge that this could be about Lucy sailing away and how Raz has been sailing off for a while here.

Exhibit 3: Otto's letter to Ford, and specifically the line about Gelsin Mux dying in a war in Grulovia.

It would not be unreasonable to believe that this war has been going on for quite a while since Grulovia seems to end up in a lot of wars, and it could have included the country that the Motherlobe is in, be it America, Canada, or some fantasy country.

However, I have another theory. This being a version of our world since France still exists, I decided to go on an adventure through history. Psychonauts takes place in the year 1982, meaning that the Deluge was in 1962. If we assume the Psychic 7 were about 40 at that time, that would place their birthdays around the late 1910s to early 1920s.

There have been some events in the Psychonauts timeline that still happened in our own-- For instance, Napoleon, Waterloo, etc. Therefore, if I'm pushing my luck a bit, it's extremely possible that his father died in the Psychonauts version of WWI-- and therefore, a war that involved a draft. Since Bob was known to be very young when his father died, I assume his father was drafted into the war.

I went off on a total tangent there, but anyways, my point is that it could be either a war that's taken its time to settle down in Grulovia or an entirely different war.

Exhibit 4: The photographs.

There is a photo of a man climbing into a truck on the walls of the house as you first enter Tia's Bottle. He's assumedly Bob's dad since he appears to be older, and there's no pictures of him with Bob. However, there is another photo.

Seeing as this picture has a black ribbon over the corner, a symbol of mourning, we assume this man is dead. However, this leads to one moment of major confusion to me.

If that man with the beard is, in fact, Bob's father... How is there a picture of him and Bob at close enough to the same age as Bob is in the vault, while there's also a picture of him when he's older? Therefore! I do not believe the bearded man is Bob's dad, but in fact, his brother!

Would also explain why he's not at Tia's funeral, too-- He's dead by the time Bob is old enough to remember things well enough, like in Tia's Greenhouse, where he's shown washing dishes.

Seeing as Truman is seen at Bob's wedding looking just as he does in canon, it makes sense too-- He's born while Bob is in his early teenage years, and therefore would be about 30 when the Deluge happens. I could reasonably see him being about 50, especially given his line to Lili.

"That's only going to be funny for a few more years" implies he's closer to old age than he appears.

~

Continuing on to a segment without any proof: I have a personal headcanon that he was a marine biologist with a focus on plants. He wasn't psychic, and his family was anti-psychic, but he found psychic powers interesting. He had dozens of scientific journals that were kept everywhere, which is why there are all those books in Tia's bottle's shelving. He was an amiable guy, and always there to help others, which is why Tia got close to him in the first place.

I think that he was a good man, but didn't have enough time to do everything he wanted.

~

So, in conclusion: My personal opinion is that his father was drafted into the Navy, and died there. He had an older son who died before Tia did, and Truman was born while Bob was pretty young.

Hope I make sense, have a nice day everybody.

[televinita]

Ten Random Books From My Physical TBR: Round 3

a.k.a. "a random number generator picks unread titles from my book catalog and I explain why I haven't read them"

(I just felt like playing again and saw this half-done in my drafts. still no cover images)

International Velvet - Bryan Forbes

Well, I have to read National Velvet first, don't I? (also I have just at this moment confirmed for the first time that this is a novelization of the movie, and was never actually a proper book sequel. Still wanna wait though since I assume it draws something from the original)

2. Forever Free: Elsa's Pride - Joy Adamson

For one thing, I've only read the first book in this trilogy of nonfiction about rewilding a lioness, and I probably need to reread that before I continue even to the second (and this is the third). Still, good stuff.

3. A Tale of Two Besties - Sophia Rossi

A young-end-of-YA novel about two incoming freshmen, 100% being saved for precisely when I want a bright, light-hearted story about high school freshmen. I've been in that mood before and it's harder than you'd think to find books that match. Publishers are mostly allergic to characters over 13 but under 16.

4. Moonrunner - Mark Thomasan

At this point I'm actually scared to read this Australian boy-plus-wild-horse book. I've owned its beautiful pristine self since 2010 or 2012, and it's been on my bookshelf in the original horse-book shelf all that time; my shelf will look wrong if I ever take it off but...what if I don't like it?? I mean, I'm sure I will...but what IF.

5. The Law of Loving Others - Kate Axelrod

I'm honestly not sure why I haven't read this yet; every time I pass it I'm like, oh yeah, that looks like a super-solid YA read, better than most of what I could find at the library these days...

6. Unwanted Girl - MK Schiller

Oh, this is a '23 acquisition and immediate albatross around my neck 'cause like, it's not going to be great, it's self-published, but because it's self-published I will never be able to read it again without buying it (for more than the $1 I already spent), and I am just intrigued enough by the way this summary pinged my brain with "solitary/reclusive writer-dude falls for his delivery girl, is drawn to help her when he learns she also wants to write a novel" (also there appears to be a bit of age difference, my immediate weakness). But it's gotta be cast properly, or the characters won't outweigh the writing. And so, we wait.

7. Elephant Bill - J.H. Williams

I read Bandoola in a college, which is a sequel to this; I'd like someday to read the original.

8. Sit! Stay! Speak! - Annie England Noblin

Woman inherits a house (and adopts a puppy), sold.

9. A Bird in the Hand and a Bear in the Bush - Judy Hughes

A 70s memoir of one of the earlier wildlife rescues, if I recall correctly.

10. Kessa - Steven Levenkron

Sequel to The Best Little Girl in the World, which I was obsessed with in my brief looking-for-(th)inspo days. I didn't know the sequel existed until I saw it a couple of years ago. I've lost most of my enchantment with the original and this looks meh, but curiosity compels.

[multiverse-mxdness]

i’m just gonna start typing thoughts that are swirling in my mind feel free to skip

but like the thought about moving on has been just stalking in the corner recently

and there’s so many layers to this

like i’ve never been a fandom for this long except for 1 and even that one, which is the flash even then i never was in the fandom i just kinda watched it religiously but i never sought out content like there is for criminal minds and i never made my own content 🧍🏻‍♂️ and i wonder if that has something to do with tumblr

like would i still be this deep in the fandom if it wasn’t for tumblr? i’m always consuming content on here which i think is keeping the ember lit

and i genuinely love all the connections i’ve made and friendships, and i don’t want to lose those, some of the people i’ve met on here i want to keep in my life ya know and i feel like that’s probably another layer

and a huge other layer would be like the discord, how do you run a discord for a fandom you wouldn’t even be in anymore

but like january 2021 me, never in a million years would think this is where i would be when i decided to watch a show about fbi profilers 😭

so many of the criminal minds moots i had on tiktok moved on and chilling and thriving and they used to be so invested in the fandom, like were writing and editing and all the jazz and they’re not now and idk maybe it’s my time to do the same

———

ok so that’s been sitting in my drafts since april 8th 🫣 and then i see this on tiktok like 3 days ago may 11

and it’s just like??? this is literally my thoughts made into a video, like i’m graduating in literally a week and i have been living and thriving and been having so much fun but then i go on my phone and i’m like man i haven’t even thought about cm or making/putting out content today

and i feel bad because i literally feel like i’m letting 900 of you all down

but like i said when i wrote this the first time.. it just looks so freeing

and i’ve always known since the beginning this wasn’t going to be a forever thing that’s why i used a pseudonym, plus i plan on going into a career in the public eye and ya know 🧍🏻‍♂️ my cm blog coming up at an audition would just be 🫣🫠

pls its all so conflicting and talk abt first world problems holy ballz

idk i just have so many thoughts swirling my head 24/7

[1-800-seo]

1-800-SEO’s 𖣘 ‘Healing of the Heart’

- pairing: Taeyong X Y/N

- genre: drabble, fluff, alternate timeline, non-modern AU, herbalist/apothecary!taeyong, pining best friend!y/n

- warnings: mentions of mice and ill health. I wrote this ages ago for another idol and it has been sat in my drafts for a year and a half, I apologise if the writing is subpar ://

- words: 1307 (unedited + open ending)

Taeyong felt the patter of tiny feet running all the way up his arm as the brown mouse made its way to the hood of his cape. It rested there, its tiny head poking out and sniffing the air. Taeyong lifted his arms up and felt around in his hood until he touched the warm furry body of his pet mouse, Ida. He picked her up in his large hands, scooping her tiny body, and brought her down to rest on the desk before him. She walked in a small circle before deciding to climb up his stacked pile of encyclopaedias, making her way up them like an enlarged staircase. To avoid her falling off, he picks her up again and places her back in her cage, and then turns back to his large boiling pot of mixed herbs and roots. The pot bubbles and sloshes as he mixes the contents around with a wooden spoon, the herbalist thinks of what to add next. His latest concoction is a blend intended to soothe a fever, something his village will most likely need as winter draws near.

The autumnal sunlight seeps in through the adjacent window and the small beams light up Taeyong’s shop. It illuminates the plants sat in the window who are assumably soaking it up, and sheds light through the glass herb jars along the dark wooden shelves. Taeyong racks his brain for the correct herb combination for his creation. As he lands on an appropriate root he has in his collection, you walk through the door of the shop, little bell alerting him to your presence. It’s not the first time you’ve been in Yongie’s shop, in fact it’s not even the 20th time, since you’ve been in ‘TY’s Herbal Healing’. Your regular visits to his shop had become a daily thing, the title of best friend had been bestowed after you became his regular customer ever since the opening of the shop. The only good thing your ill health had brought about was you meeting Taeyong, ever since you’d met him that day he’d opened the shop up, you had been inseparable. Your shared love of plants being the building blocks of that once budding friendship with him.

“Hey Yongie” you say, unwrapping your scarf from your neck and placing it on the counter. “How’s your latest broth?” “Not bad, thank you, I’ve just been attempting to level out the acidity in it, I’m thinking of adding some ginger to make it more palatable. Could you pass me some from the shelf please?” “No problem.” You reply whilst taking some from the shelf and jumping over the shop counter to his brewing quarters. The front of his shop is arranged neatly, the counter clear, bar from his old bonsai stood stout over in the corner. This neatness isn’t carried over to his brewing quarters; open jars of roots and herbs lay open on his worktops, the stove is on heating the bubbling broth, a few books are open and strewn across the sides. Even Ida’s cage is a bit untidy although you doubt this is Yong’s fault, she has a habit of upending her little wooden house and throwing her bedding everywhere.

You pass the ginger to your herbalist and watch as he works, picking up a chunk of the root and chopping it up on the board he has off to the side. He then promptly tosses it into the pot and stirs it a few times. You love watching his deft hands work, seeing how much care he puts into each and every one of his creations. His love and care doesn’t just extend to how he makes his medicines. You can see his loving touch in his shop, in his home, in his music. It’s demonstrated through his care for his plants that litter his shop, through the carefully arranged displays, his well thought out diagnosises to patients. You see it in the delicately handsewn patchwork bed sheets he has, the expertly placed candelabras, the devotion to his pets. And most of all you see it in his beautiful songs, the way he arranges for the lyre is unearthly, and only in the sense that the songs he creates are so ethereal it sounds as if it was plucked from heaven.

The time’s when you are so lost in thought like this lead you to wonder how close you are to your precious Yongie; and your precious friendship, would you prefer if it was something else? Something more intimate, something where you could greater witness the inner workings of his world. You could watch all day his loving works and his caring deeds, you could love him with all your heart. You wonder, whether it would be so bad belonging to the village herbalist, you don’t think it would be hard to cross the boundary from friend to lover. You stare into your herbalist’s deep onyx eyes and realise you could get lost in them forever.

Your thoughts had lead you to make a move, you had to do something. Spending all your life single wasn’t your plan anyway; having resided yourself to a life alone, convinced no one would love you with your many ailments and need to be looked after. But with Taeyong, that didn’t feel the case. You were sure he could love you properly and care for you in all the right ways, the question is, would he want to? You longed to find out. Those days you’d spent pining for him as you weaved a basket or baked some bread. He permeated your thoughts, seeping into the the fabric of your mind at all hours of the day and night, never did you stop thinking about him and you were a little ashamed to say that. But time had come to say what must be said, and so, you did.

“Taeyongie? Have you ever thought about courting anyone?” You query, legs swinging as you sit on the counter, an anxious tremor making itself known through your fingers.

“I have... I’ve thought about this before, I’d like a doting partner, I’m not sure if anyone could love me though. Who would want to put up with me?” He replies, following his sentence with a nervous chuckle.

You gulp at his words, mind racing. “I-I could put up with you. I wouldn’t be ‘putting up’ with you though, I’d give you all my love.... I’ve thought about you for so long Yongie, I wasn’t sure if you liked me, loved me even. I want to be the one who loves you. Will you let me?”

His mouth hangs open, eyes wide with shock. He’s stopped staring his broth and has paused his actions. “I- I’m so sorry for springing this on you. It doesn’t matter. I was stupid to think you would ever love me like I’d hoped.” You look at your hands, head hung low.

Taeyong interrupts before a tear can make your way from its eyes. “No— no! I love you y/n, I really do. I was just so shocked you felt this way.” He takes your head in his hands and rests his fingers on your cheeks, hands splayed. “How long have you felt this way?” He asks.

“Umm, about a year.” Embarrassment flushes your cheeks, staining them rose red. “You should of told me, I’ve loved you for so long. I just thought no one could love the clumsy healer at the edge of the village. I told myself I was ok alone. Now hearing you say this has made me realise how much I need you in my life.” He punctuates his sentence with a tender kiss on your forehead, such a sensitive and emotive action, you feel see his shoulders release tension as he does it.

Some risks are worth taking.

[yukidragon]

Our Life Snippet - First Sight

Hey all, I’m in the mood to share another clip of my Our Life: Beginnings & Always novelization’s first draft. This time it’s from the start of Step 1, with Cove and Jamie as teeny 8-year-olds having a most unexpected encounter that would change their lives forever.

Thanks, as always, to @gb-patch​ for the lovely game and for fueling so much inspiration in me!

...

Sighing, Jamie realized that she just had to accept the fact that she wasn’t going to come up with a clever solution to sneak in through the back of her house. She had no real option but to find a good hiding spot on one of the hills and wait. Either her moms would come looking for her, or the stranger would wander off to do other suspicious things, and she could sneak in through the front door when he was gone.

The hills were quiet, save for the chirping of crickets hiding in the tall grass. Jamie visited the place nearly every day, so it wasn’t scary being out there by herself, even at night. It was fairly bright for nighttime as well thanks to the full moon that slowly rose over the horizon. Still, it was hard for her to relax completely, knowing that some tall creepy stranger might still be hunting for her.

It was likely because Jamie was so on alert that she felt as though she wasn’t actually alone in the hills that night. She turned her attention away from home and safety to scan her surroundings carefully before quickly finding that she was right.

Sitting atop one of the hills, mostly hidden among the tall grass and white poppies was a boy around her age. His hair was green, which offered a perfect natural camouflage that was completely ruined by the neon pink cast wrapped around his left arm. He sat curled up, knees tucked against his chest with his face buried against them.

The boy hadn’t noticed Jamie. He sat facing away from her and the houses. His focus was instead on some point far off in the distance.

The view from the hills was spectacular, and it was something Jamie liked about playing here, but she got the impression that this boy wasn’t really here for that. As she drifted carefully closer, she saw the sad frown he wore along with the lost look he had in his blue-green eyes.

In the moonlight, the boy’s eyes seemed to glow behind the large glasses he wore. It was almost magical and Jamie couldn’t help but stare. The feeling of observing him was like stumbling across a deer in the wild, or maybe a fairy.

Above those enchanting but sad eyes were a pair of upturned wavy eyebrows. Jamie had never seen anyone have such a distinctive feature, but they somehow suited this new boy. They also went well with the waves of his pretty, short, seafoam green hair, which delicately fluttered in the breeze around his face. The clothes he wore were ordinary enough in comparison to his more striking features - a white tank-top and brown cargo shorts with long white socks and black sneakers - with only the red glasses and bright pink cast standing out.

As pretty and magical as the new boy appeared, Jamie couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to make him so upset.

Although Jamie tried to be quiet in her approach, she failed in her attempts to be stealthy for a second time that day. Those aquamarine eyes that reflected the moonlight so enchantingly turned their focus on her, and she froze.

Slowly, Jamie raised a hand in a small wave and put on her best smile, not wanting to scare the sad boy away. “Hi.”

…

Cove Holden was lost, and he didn’t want to be found.

This place was all wrong. It wasn’t home. Ever since they got there, his dad kept pointing out all the good things this place had, including things that he already had at home, but it wasn’t the same. Nothing was familiar and so many little details were simply just plain wrong. Even the beach was all wrong. The sand wasn’t the right color, the smells woven with the salt in the air were strange, and even the plants near the beach were different than what he expected to see.

If the beach was so wrong, then how did his dad expect anything else in this place to seem right to him at all?

The worst part of all was that his mom wasn’t there. His parents fought all the time; he didn’t remember a time when they didn’t. Sometimes one of them would leave home for a long time because a fight was particularly bad. Even when one of them screamed at the other not to come back, they always did, eventually.

This time was different. This time Cove had to leave too, and he was never allowed to go back home again.

No matter how Cove cried, pleaded, or even yelled, there was no changing their minds. His dad forced him in the car with some boxes and they drove and drove and drove until they were here in this place his dad now called home.

This wasn’t home. This would never be home. It couldn’t be. Nothing made sense anymore. How could this whole day be anything but the worst nightmare of his life?

Cove was sick of it. He was ready to wake up back in his bed. He wouldn’t even mind if he woke up to the sound of his parents yelling again this time. He just wanted to be back home.

That was why Cove ran away the moment his dad wasn’t paying attention. It was just in time, too. He didn’t want to see all the things wrong about the house his dad kept insisting was “home” now. Just the outside alone had been too much.

With no idea of where to go except “away,” Cove kept running until he reached a place far away from everyone, where no one would find him until he finally woke up. Eventually, he found himself in some overgrown hills dotted covered with white flowers. It reminded him of his hill from back home, but of course it wasn’t right either - his hill never had flowers on it.

The hills were as wrong as everything else in this place, but Cove had been too tired by that point to keep running anymore. He collapsed in the tallest patch of grass, completely drained of everything but his tears.

There Cove sat and shut out the world, hunched up on himself. He didn’t notice when the sun had set and the moon had risen to take its place. The only thing he could do was wish to finally wake up from this nightmare.

A rustle in the grass, louder than any caused by the wind, pulled Cove out of his revere. He turned his gaze towards the source and froze.

A little girl was standing there only a few feet away from him, staring at him with wide blue eyes as dark as the night sky and glittering with starlight. She looked to be about his age, with skin as pale as moonlight and long hair the color of deep water drawn up into two pigtails to create the illusion of twin waterfalls. Despite the ordinary clothes she wore - a teal and white floral sundress, matching shorts, and a pair of flower-themed flip-flops - she didn’t look like a real person. No one had eyes like that. It was as if a piece of the world around him had turned into a kid his age.

For a moment, Cove could only stare back at this unreal girl standing beside him. Then she tilted her head ever so slightly and smiled at him as she raised a hand.

“Hi,” she said. Her voice was soft and sweet, but that one word alone was enough to send a jolt through Cove’s entire body. “Are you lost?”

Despite Jamie’s best efforts to appear friendly, the sad boy went on the defensive immediately. He jerked up and was on his feet in seconds, balling his hands into fists at his sides, as though getting ready to run or maybe fight.

Cove said nothing as he stared at the unreal girl. He didn’t have a clue what this nightmare had in store for him now. Was this a good thing or a bad thing?

Now that the boy was facing her, Jamie could see the faint streaks of tears on his cheeks and that his red-rimmed blue eyes shined with the promise of more to come. His clothes were dotted with wet spots, especially on his shorts around his knees. It was clear to her that he had been crying for quite a while.

The thought made Jamie feel sad for him.

Maybe this was the “Cove” boy the creepy stranger had told her about. Children were a rarity in Sunset Bird after all. Jamie felt a little guilty at the thought that the man might have actually been telling the truth about Cove being a real person after all. Maybe Cove had been crying because of what his dad was doing to try and get him friends.

There was only one way to be sure though.

“Who are you?” Jamie asked. “I’ve never seen you before.”

Cove had to take a moment before he could answer, sniffling away his tears as best he could as he rubbed his flushed cheeks. “My name’s Cove,” he said, his voice rough and shaking a little from his earlier crying. “I’m…”

Cove trailed off, hesitant and unsure about talking to this dream girl. His eyes slipped away from her to their surroundings. There was no one else around - not his dad or any other adult. When he looked back, he saw she was waiting patiently for him to continue, still wearing that gentle smile.

Maybe this was a good thing after all.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Kismet {1}

Henry Cavill x Famous OFC Aliya Taylor

Warning: Plot, Slow Burn, Mild Cursing

Words: 3.9

Summary: Aliya is a singer turned model turned actress. Since she was fifteen, she’s been creating her empire in the entertainment world. As the daughter of a famous fashion model/designer and Hollywood director, you’d think life is easy for her, but her past has been anything but easy. Due to past trauma, she’s forever changed and no longer trusts any man that is not in her family and a select few in her team. She’s sworn off love and serious relationships and has planned never to fall again, but love isn’t something that can be planned. It just happens when it’s meant to. Can Aliya outrun a love that seems hellbent on holding tight to her, a love that is Kismet?

Note: Okay, y’all, this has been in my Word file for about a year and a half now, and I have no idea why I never posted it, but I’ve been inspired. It is mostly finished, but I will be tweaking it a little with each post. I hope you enjoy this. As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️

If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!! 😘  As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️

 ***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

**Very Interactive**

  “Everyone, welcome, Aliya Taylor!”

 The clapping and cheers were deafening as you walked down the long corridor to walk through the set doors. Once in full view of the studio audience, they stood and cheered even louder. You took a few moments to wave at them before walking down the path that led to the talk show host. Once there, you hugged Wendy and prepared for the antics.

“They love you.”

 “It appears that way. Thank you so much for having me.”

 “Girl, everyone wants a piece of you. why is that?”

You shrugged and scoffed. “Hell if I know.” The audience erupted with laughter. They thought you were kidding. You weren’t.

 “Are you being serious?”

 “Absolutely. I have no idea why. I am just this normal girl. At home, I’m Liya, the baby, the one who wears sweats and high buns. I don’t get it.”

 “Oh, so this that we see now is not how you are when the cameras turn off?”

 Again you scoffed. “Absolutely not. Most days, unless I’m working, I don’t wear makeup and heels I try to stay away from,” you explained.

 “Wow. I mean, I’ve seen plenty of paparazzi pictures of you, and you always look so put together,” Wendy complimented.

 “They must photoshop,” you joked to the audience's amusement.

 For the next several minutes, she asked you questions about your latest projects and what you had planned for the next few months. After pointing out you were seen as a fashion icon, she began inquiring about your fashion inspirations. That conversation almost went on for the rest of the segment, but like the pro she was Wendy roped it back in to the hard-hitting stuff.

 “So, I have to bring this up,” she began giving the audience a look that had you giggling. “For the last few months, we’ve been hearing from a particular Hemsworth who has been preaching from every ledge how you are the love of his life. Anything to say about that?”

 You were prepared for this, it was expected. It was Wendy Williams, after all. Shrugging, you have a clueless look. “Nothing to say. This is actually the first I’m hearing about that,” you lied.

 Wendy didn’t buy it, and the look on her face said it. Holding your ground and tapping into that acting skill, you kept a straight face and let the stare down run its course.

 “Wow, you have an unwavering poker face.” The audience laughed around you, but you still kept a straight face.

 “I don’t know what to tell ya’, Wendy,” you responded with a shrug for emphasis.

 “All right. So, are you single?”

 “I’m single, not looking and very happy,” you announced. The cheers around you were unexpected, but you liked that they were on board with it.

 “Any particular reason why?”

 Sighing, you sat back in your seat. “Relationships are hard. They take a lot of work, and I require too much to be in a relationship.”

 Wendy cackled, which sent you into a tiff of giggles. When the two of you settled down, she continued.

 “What does that mean?”

 “Not much really just relationships are distractions, huge, huge distractions, and I would just rather enjoy my time, my life and work which includes helping people, changing lives, making lives better and focus on me. Relationships are just not for me, so I don’t want em,” you declared.

 Wendy looked shocked and speechless, but she began nodding. “I understand. After my highly publicized divorce, I am also in the mind frame of nothing serious. I’ll have my fun, but a serious relationship is a turn off for me.”

 You raised your hands in the air to praise her statement. “So you’ve been traveling a lot, right? We see pictures of you with your two best friends Amaya and Alicia.”

 Your smile was wide then. “Yes, yes. We’ve been traveling and enjoying life. I’ve worked so hard for so long, and rarely do I take a vacation, so I took a little time,” you explained.

 “That’s good. What do you think about the polls fans have created about who they want to see you with?”

 That was news to you. “What?”

 “Yeah. There are so many polls that are fan-made asking who people want to see you date,” Wendy explained.

 “Who are the contenders?”

 “Zac Efron, Robert Pattison, Theo James, Michael B Jordan, the names are endless,” Wendy listed off. You could have laughed, but you kept it in and just decided to nod.

 “Any preference?”

 “Who am I to have a say?” The laugher erupted around you again.

 Thankfully the conversation steered back to your work, and that was where it remained for the next five or so minutes until the end of the interview. After signing a few autographs and taking a few fan pictures, you made your exit and toward your next engagement. It was going to be another long day. This was the eighth straight day that began at four in the morning only to have your head hitting your pillow well after two in the morning.

 After three more interviews and two meetings, you made it home at the time you expected. Sleep was not in the cards for you, especially since it had been years since you’d had a good night’s sleep without sleeping pills. Insomnia is what the doctors diagnosed you with. While everyone in LA slept or got six to eight hours of sleep, you rarely got four. It was a condition you’d managed to find a way to live with after all these years and resigned yourself to never being normal in that department. You didn’t dwell on it because that meant opening back up the box you’d neatly put away out of sight that was wrapped in pretty bows as tight as possible. You’d worked hard to keep your Pandora’s box bound tight, and it was an endless daily struggle to keep it that way.

  -Two Weeks Later-

“I’m not used to be early,” you whispered to your assistant, who nodded. She knew it was true.

 “What time is this supposed to be?”

 “Two,” Pamela responded. Your golden Cartier watch said it was four till. Just as you were going to speak, the doors opened up and in walked three men, one of which was your manager Rob.

 “Aliya, so glad you could make it.”

 You shook their hands and exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes before getting down to the nitty-gritty. They spoke about a movie project that was planned for filming in the fall that they believed you were perfect for the lead role. As they described the plot and the intentions of the filming, you nodded along and took a few mental notes. As they spoke, several boxes on your list were checked off. You hated roles where black women were typecast, hated roles that degraded black women, and hated those cliché movies that were so predictable one usually regretted seeing them. These days you liked more adventurous roles, even roles that had you getting into the action genre. Why should men have all the fun of being action stars?

 After a chat about the film, they gave you a rough draft of the script which you read through on the spot. It read like a classic action romance that had the lead female tackling female stereotypes of being the damsel in distress then turning around to being able to hold her own. You were intrigued and told them such. After asking your questions, the conversation turned to salary. You were prepared for them to lowball you because you were a woman and a black one at that. When they came in with five million, you didn’t bother speaking. Rob knew that you wouldn’t take it. You knew for a fact that other actresses would have been offered more. Their second offer of ten million sounded a lot more reasonable, and that was the contract you signed on for.

 Three hours from the start of your meeting, it ended. As Rob finished up the details with the director and producer of the film, you made your way to the elevators with Pamela beside you. As you walked, your face was buried in your phone checking email after email and sending off message after message.

“The creative team is wondering if you’re still okay for the photos for the next publication,” Pamela inquired.

 “Uh---was that the set that was done at the Botanical Gardens?”

 “Yes.”

 You stopped for a moment and thought about what she was asking while never taking your nose out of your phone. After a few moments, you nodded. “Yeah, tell them to send me the complete issue, and then I’ll get back to them in a few days,” you instructed.

 You heard the “ding” of the elevator and waited the amount of time you expected it would take for the doors to open, then you stepped forward. Slamming into a hard wall, you began to fall backward with a yelp. “Oh my god!”

 You prepared yourself to make impact with the floor, but that impact never came. Instead, you felt strong, muscular arms wrap around you. Those arms held you close, and you felt like nothing in the world would dare hurt you while there. When you looked, you were held captivated by the most intense pair of blue eyes you’d ever seen. They were eyes you’d seen in passing before, but eyes you must have overlooked until now. Henry Cavill.

The man was gorgeous. You’d always thought he was attractive the few times you’d see him in magazines or even watched his movies. It was a fact that you didn’t dare dispute. Why would you? With him, this close you couldn’t believe just how gorgeous he was. One man definitely had no business being this beautiful, you thought to yourself. You couldn’t believe his attractiveness. You should have been immune to it being an actress who’d dealt with some of the industry’s finest but here and now you felt like a fish out of water. You’d never had this strong of a reaction to a man before.

 “Are you all right?”

 You saw his mouth moving, but you couldn’t hear a word he said. His arms around your waist tightened. You now had a perfect view of his completely symmetrical face that had the most chiseled jaw you’d ever seen. His skin was flawless, and the stray curl on his forehead was calling your name, begging you to reach out and just touch it.

 “Hello? Can you hear me?” His voice finally broke through the hormone-induced haze in your head.

 “Oh my god. Yes. I’m okay.”

 Henry’s eyebrows were etched together, giving you an inquisitive look.

 “Are you sure?”

 “No.” You sounded as if you were faint, and honestly, you kind of felt like it too.

 “Let’s stand you up. Here we go.”

 Slowly Henry set you up onto your feet before he let you go. Once he did, you wobbled, which had him reaching his arms out to you again to steady you. “I’ve got you.” His British accent was heaven. It was enough to have you staring at his mouth every time he spoke.

 “Are you okay?”

 Realizing how you were behaving, you remembered just who the hell you were and cleared your throat while straightening your back.

 “Yes, I’m okay. I’m—I’m sorry,” you began.

 “No, it was probably my fault. I was so wrapped up in my phone.”

 “Me too,” you blurted out. The two of you smiled together, and it was right there you felt your heart skip a beat. Again, you cleared your throat and looked away from his hypnotizing eyes. “Uh, I’m sorry again. However, I am—uh—late for another meeting,” you finished.

 “Absolutely.” Henry stepped to the side, giving you access to the elevator. After bending to retrieve your phone that had made its way into the elevator, you leaned onto the wall of the car, waiting for Pamela to file in. As she did, your eyes met Henry’s again, and that was where they stayed. It wasn’t until the doors closed, and you were somewhat alone, did your body begin to relax. Slouching back, you pressed your palm to your belly, hoping to calm the butterflies you felt fluttering away.

 “Holy shit,” you whispered out loud while fanning yourself.

The remainder of the day, you were not your usual self. Normally you were a force to be reckoned with and able to charm any exec or paparazzi. That was not the case after you left the building. You were dazed and flustered. You even had a hard time following the meetings that followed. Your head just simply was not in the game, and that was a first for you. Your father had taught you long ago that keeping your head in the game was the best way to achieve all your goals. He taught you everything he knew, and your mother taught you then some.

 You knew just who he was. Henry Cavill. You’d seen all the movies he’d been in regarding Superman because he was your favorite superhero. You’d seen his Mission Impossible movie and even his Man from U.N.C.L.E movie. He was all the buzz now because of his massive casting as Geralt of Rivia in The Witcher. Everyone had his name in their mouth.

 At the most inopportune time, you found yourself thinking back to his face, his eyes, or his mouth and reminiscing about the feel of his arms around your waist. It was embarrassing. You felt like an amateur. You didn’t get starstruck. It wasn’t a thing for you because you’d been around celebrities since very early in your career. This was a first, and it was quickly getting old. Thanks to how long the day ran, you only had time to run home to quickly change your clothes in order to make your flight out of LA that night.

Once the plane took off, you were reclined back in one of the luxurious seats with a glass of fruit-infused Perrier water and a bowl of kettle corn. It was then you were finally able to catch your breath and relax for the first time for the day. Moments of quiet and slow were far and in between for you. For the most part, it was done purposely so you didn’t have too much time to think. You’d quickly learned that an idle mind invited painful memories.

 Grabbing your phone, you snuggled in the seat and opened it up, ready to either scroll through Instagram or work a little bit. It didn’t take you long from unlocking it to realize this was not your phone. Once you unlocked it, the wallpaper was of an adorable dog on one side and a picture of a large family on the other.

 “What the hell?”

 Sitting up, you tucked your feet under you and continued to scroll through the phone. Immediately you went to pictures. The first few were interesting shots of pieces of tech and then several pictures of the same adorable dog. The more you scrolled, the pictures got more and more interesting. When you came across a picture of Henry audibly gasped.

 “Oh shit! Shit, shit!”

 Slowly you put the phone on the table before you and looked around the cabin to see if anyone was watching you. You felt as if you were doing something wrong. Realizing no one was paying any attention to you, you drank down the water and raised your hand for the stewardess.

 “Yes, Ms. Taylor.”

 “Have we taken off?”

 “Yes, we’ll be landing in London in six hours,” the stewardess informed. Clenching your jaw, you nodded.

 “Okay, can I have a bottle of champagne, please.”

 “Absolutely. Any particular brand?”

 “Surprise me.” She nodded and walked away. In her absence, your eyes stared at the phone on the table and contemplated your options.

 A few moments later, the stewardess returned with the bottle and a filled glass.

 “Thank you.” you dumped the fruit from the bottom of one glass into the champagne flute and gulped down half of the glass. Your eyes again landed on the phone.

 “Don’t do it Aliya, don’t do it.”

 Flexing your fingers, you tried to suppress the urge to go against your better judgment.

 “It would be a major invasion of privacy, Aliya. Don’t,” you reiterated.

 Before you even finished the sentence, your hand was reaching for the device.

 “Oh, screw it.” Grabbing the phone, you unlocked it again, and while thanking the tech gods, there was no passcode on it. “Technically, I don’t know whose phone it is. I do have to get some information. Right?”

 You nodded your head, accepting you were having a full-on conversation with yourself. You continued to scroll through his pictures. The majority of them are of him smiling, showcasing those perfect teeth and his perfect face. Some were him in makeup chairs, others in a house with perfect lighting, others were him at random times. After a few swipes of your finger, you’d entered pictures that looked to be of family. You could see the resemblance between him and the men and a little bit around the eyes of an older blonde woman.

 Noting that they all looked happy and loving, you continued looking through more. Your finger stopped moving when you came upon a brunette with dark eyes and blonde with blue eyes. Both women looked relatively young but somewhat attractive in a simple way. You began to wonder who they were. After scrolling a little more, you got your answer seeing a few pictures of him kissing both women. That had you stumped and wondering who the women were and if Henry Cavill was a good-looking playboy.

 You didn’t know how long you scrolled, but when you ventured into the shirtless ones, you scrolled a lot slower. The man was built like Greek God by Hollywood standards. He had like zero percent body fat and one hundred percent muscle definition. You didn’t even realize you were practically drooling until you got to a picture of him suggestively nude. He laid in a bed with a blanket aimlessly thrown across his groin, which left little to the imagination.

 “Lord have mercy up in haven for all things that are holy.”

 Pressing his phone to your chest, you closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths then continued. You quickly transitioned to his messages. Most were work-related. Six names down, you saw a woman’s name—Francesca. Not too far below hers was another—Abby. Though your curiosity was at an all-time high, you ignored it and exited his messages. For the next fifteen minutes, you scrolled through the remainder of his pictures until you dropped it back into your purse to alleviate any more temptation to ogle his body.  That was when you used the champagne to distract yourself, but it was no use. All you could think about was Henry’s literal ten pack.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

 -Henry-

“Bollocks!”

 The flowery wallpaper that stared back at him was the only thing he needed to see to know this was not his phone. It was then he realized his phone must have gotten mixed up with yours due to the mishap in front of the elevator. Leaning back in his chair, he groaned and stared at the ceiling. The thought entered his mind to look at it, especially since there was no passcode on it.

 “You can’t. That’s a massive invasion of privacy. She’s a lady,” he drilled to himself.

 Raising to his feet, he paced the floor of his hotel room. Most days, he felt like he lived in hotel rooms rather than his flat in London. He groaned, feeling the ache to his muscles, he needed a vacation. Working every day, nonstop was staring to wear its toll on his body. He got lost in thoughts on a possible vacation for a few minutes before the light of your phone on the table brought his attention back. His struggle was something real. On the one hand, he wanted to look so badly, but on the other, he wanted to respect your privacy.

 The battle waged on for an hour until he gave in to curiosity and delved into your phone. The first place he went was to your pictures. As soon as he scrolled, he was blown away. You were gorgeous. The first few rows of pictures had you all dolled up in makeup, lashes, lipstick, and all. He spent a lot longer examining those pictures than he should have. When he got to the ones of you fresh-faced, he found himself drooling. While you were gorgeous with makeup, you were breathtaking without. He marveled in the way your skin looked to be glowing, and the way your lips looked so supple—kissable. It took everything in him to move on.

 There were pictures of you with who he assumed were your friends, in these pictures you looked happy and it wasn’t long before he found a favorite one of you.

 “Christ, she’s too beautiful.”

 As he scrolled, he stopped in his tracks at one of you in a bikini, and his jaw dropped. Every inch of you was perfect. You had not one flaw. When you bumped into to him earlier, he realized you were beautiful and that there was a draw between you that triggered a reaction for him, one that he hadn’t fully noticed until the elevator doors closed. Sitting here now, he was fully aware of his reaction to you. Quickly he scrolled on then dropped the phone when he came across a shot of you in heels with your back turned to the camera in your underwear alone. He found himself biting his bottom lip as his imagination took over. That was when he got out of your pictures.

 When he got into your messages, he began admonishing himself for what he was doing, but he couldn’t stop. He wanted to know more about you—everything really. He scrolled through those messages that looked like work until he came upon two names, Liam, and Jesse. Though he was curious, he still decided against reading them. Instead, he slide the phone to the farthest corner from him and contemplated all he’d seen and the best approach to this situation. He had to get his phone back and give you yours, but he also was filled with an overwhelming desire to know you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lee’s Note: What do you guys thing? Continue?

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[beauty-grace-outer-space]

I have absolutely no motivation to write (even though I open my WIP docs every single day and stare at them for like an hour) so here, have this beginning of a draft that was supposed to be my NANOWRIMO 2018 project. 

“Inside every black hole that collapses may lie the seeds of a new expanding universe.” 

― Sir Martin Rees

Jim never truly got used to the feeling of still warm blood, clotting and drying against his skin as the vessel grew cold beneath his hands, their chest sunken and still and their eyes open and unseeing. He hoped he never did. 

With a swift tug, he pulled the knife from the flesh, the serrated edge catching on muscle and bone until it finally slid free with a wet, dull sound. The hilt was slick against his palm. The wound gushed fresh blood, dark and acrid, as the cork stoppering it was removed. 

With a tilt of his head, he extended a stained hand and lowered the eyelids of the deceased, closing them to the world forever. He turned his own gaze to the stars above, incanting a silent prayer for the dead as he knelt. 

Rising slowly from his crouch over the corpse, he wiped the blade clean on his trousers before resheathing it against his calf. He would tend to it properly later. 

The blood gathered, dark beneath his fingernails. 

What, will these hands ne'er be clean?

A contemptuous smile crept across his face as he stared at the stains on his skin. At times, he felt they seeped to his very soul.

He seized his communicator, flipping it open and pressing the call button. 

“Kirk to Enterprise.” 

“Captain. Am I to assume that this communication means you were successful?” 

With a glance at the body, he replied, “Affirmative, Mr. Spock.” 

“Locking on to your signal now, sir.” 

Energize.

_______________________________________________________________

Spock stood at attention behind the panel of controls in the transporter room, half-interestedly watching Mr. Scott at his task of attempting to beam the captain back aboard following his negotiations with the Berilian council. They had agreed readily to join the Federation, and Jim’s final task has been a simple one: obtain their signatures on a treaty avowing their claim that they would never again wage war against a nearby Federation settlement. Having not been at war in several earth years, they were entirely willing. The meeting had been brief and the captain had requested beam up a mere hour after descending to the planet’s surface, assuring them of his success in their last transmission. 

“Bloody electrical storm--” Mr. Scott muttered angrily as he adjusted the controls yet again. 

Spock turned to him, critically eyeing the computations on screen and the curiously empty transporter pad. “Difficulties, Mr. Scott?” 

The engineer looked up from his duties, a sheepish expression crossing his face as he realized he had been overheard. “Apologies, Mr. Spock… this storm-- the electrical currents are interfering with the dematerialization. If I cannae lock onto his signal more firmly--” 

“Do you require assistance?” 

Mr. Scott shook his head, “No, I dinnae think so-- I just need to-- there!” With a victorious crow he slammed his hand against the button to energize. The transporter pad whirred to life, particles swirling through the air before reforming to reveal their captain. 

Their captain with blood staining his shirt. 

“Jim!” Scott cried in alarm, as Spock simultaneously moved forward to assist and ascertain any injury. 

“Captain--” he began, already reaching for his communicator to summon the doctor if necessary. 

He was not anticipating for the captain to step swiftly out of his reach and to command, voice steely and eyes hard, “As you were, Commander.” 

Spock was not often taken by surprise, but he found that he had no response to the unexpected words and unusually cold tone with which they were spoken. After several moments of silence, he found his voice and began again, “Captain, I merely wished to establish the source of your injury. Given the blood on your sleeve, I assumed-- perhaps wrongfully-- that--” 

“Exactly, Mr. Spock,” Jim replied, stepping forward dangerously, his forehead nearly touching Spock’s, his eyes narrowed. Then, gritting out each word, he repeated: “As you were, Commander.” 

Mr. Scott, hovering uncomfortably at the control panel as he watched the abnormally hostile interaction between the two, cleared his throat. 

“Em-- ‘scuse me for butting in,” he said, “but Captain, you’re wanted on the bridge.”

The captain’s gaze shifted to the Scotsman, his posture relaxing slightly as he removed himself from Spock’s personal space. “Thank you, Mr. Scott,” he replied flatly before returning his gaze to Spock expectantly. 

Spock stepped aside. 

Jim squared his shoulders and made his way from the room, the doors closing behind him and leaving the remaining officers in stunned silence. 

“I thought you said things went alright down there,” Mr. Scott said incredulously. 

Spock met his eye with concern. “It would appear I was mistaken.” 

________________________________________________________________

When Uhura summoned him to the bridge, quietly and with the distinct tone of someone hoping not to be overheard, Len knew that there were only two options awaiting him when he arrived. 

The fact that she hadn’t come straight out and told him who it was narrowed his options down. So either: 

1. Spock had gone and done something stupid and gotten himself sick or injured somehow, but was being a stubborn ass about it, thus leaving Nyota-- sometimes the only one among them with any sense-- to bring it to his attention at Jim’s request, because she was much better at the batting of eyelashes and feigning of innocence than their captain was on his best day and there was less chance of Spock holding a grudge. 

or

2. Jim had gone and done something stupid and gotten himself sick or injured somehow, but was being a stubborn ass about it, and Spock and Uhura had exchanged enough worried glances across their stations that the communications officer had taken matters into her own hands, because batting of eyelashes aside she could knock Kirk sideways into next week and they all knew it. 

She hadn’t sounded particularly urgent, just concerned, which both sparked his curiosity and set him at ease. Had anyone been in any true danger, he would have been informed. Just the same, he quickly gathered up his medkit and made his way to the turbolift and up the levels to the bridge. 

Stepping out of the lift he scanned the bridge, gaze sweeping across each station. Nothing seemed out of the norm, aside from the fact that Spock wasn’t at his post. Feeling eyes on him, he met Nyota’s concerned stare, tilting his chin towards the science station questioningly. She shook her head minutely in reply, her own chin jutting swiftly toward the captain’s chair to their left. 

Damnit, what had the kid gone and done now? 

Jim’s familiar dirty blond hair and gold adorned collar were visible over the straight edged back of the chair. He didn’t appear to be in any visible distress; the lines of his shoulders were sharp but not rigid-- alert, but not tense. Of course he couldn’t be sure without doing a full examination, but so far nothing was ringing any alarm bells for Len. 

Which of course raised a red flag all on its own. 

He raised a questioning eyebrow back at Uhura, silently asking her to clue him in on why she had secretly called him up here if everything was fine, when Jim spoke. 

“Doctor McCoy,” he called without turning around or in any other way acknowledging Len’s presence, sending Chekov and Sulu turning in their own chairs, startled. “What brings you to the bridge?”

Doctor McCoy? Sure, Jim called him that occasionally-- when professionalism called for them to stumble through introductions without having to awkwardly explain the moniker the kid had adopted for him immediately after meeting in all their booze soaked and blood stained glory-- but rarely; and nothing indicated that the situation called for it. So either Jim was aware of something he wasn’t, or the kid was royally pissed off. 

Neither boded well for them. 

“Thought I’d come make sure you were still in one peace after the negotiations,” he replied with just enough snark to provoke Jim’s usual easy banter with him. 

Jim, however, didn’t rise to the bait. Without any further preamble, he asked, “Who called you up here?” 

Len blinked uneasily. Jim had never been one for placing blame, and that wasn’t a question he had ever asked of Len before, at least not in that tone. Running his tongue over his lower lip he rocked back on his heels and replied, sure to keep his tone neutral, “Can’t see how that’s any of your business.” 

Jim was out of his seat in an instant. Anger plain in his expression, he turned to face Len for the first time since he had arrived, giving Len a clear view of the rusty patches of drying blood on his command tunic-- the obvious reason that Uhura had summoned him, the captain’s odd behavior notwithstanding. 

“Jim,” he began, shocked, “there’s--”

“It seems--” Jim cut him off, “that my crew is determined to undermine me today.” 

Len frowned in confusion. Something was wrong here. Jim was acting strangely, and Len wanted to get to the bottom of it as soon as possible. The sooner he could nip a patented Jim Kirk temper tantrum in the bud the better. With a scoff he replied, “Determined to-- Jim, what the hell are you--” 

“Captain,” Jim interrupted icily. “You will address me properly on the bridge, Lieutenant Commander.” After a pause, he relaxed minutely. “Return to your post, Doctor McCoy. We’ll discuss it later.” 

Len’s mind raced; countless explanations for Jim’s odd behavior flew through his mind at breakneck speeds: alien viruses, blood infections, fever, chemical influence… 

“Sir,” Uhura cut in, “incoming transmission from Starfleet Admiralty. They’d like to get your mission report.”  

Jim tore his gaze from Len’s, waving a hand in her direction as he reseated himself in his chair, effectively putting an end to their conversation. “On screen, Lieutenant.” 

The view of the stars ahead flickered and gave way to a projection of Admiral Pike, a broad smile on his face as he greeted the captain. 

“Jim! Good to see you, son… I hear things went well down there?” 

The resulting silence stretched just a bit too long to be natural, and Len found his gaze drawn back to Jim. He had gone perfectly still where he sat, his eyes wide and focused on the screen with a frightening intensity. 

After far too long, he replied. “Yes, sir… all went according to plan.” 

_______________________________________________________________

Pike’s eyes flew to McCoy’s, a troubled expression crossing his face as he looked to the doctor for reassurance. Jim bit back a harsh laugh; did the two honestly think he didn’t know what they were doing? They were clearly concerned about him, which was wildly amusing considering he and the doctor had discussed specifics that morning and Pike-- well… 

“Would you like specifics on the mission, Admiral Pike?” Jim asked, folding his arms across his chest, watching the older man’s eyes widen at the sight of the staining on his sleeves; he’d taken care to wash his hands before making his way to the bridge, but hadn’t dared change his clothes. Something was off with his crew. They were acting suspiciously, and he had no intention of wasting any time with petty tasks that could allow him to be caught off guard. 

Pike blinked back to attention, stammering a bit as he answered, “Of course, my apologies, Kirk. I got distracted for a moment there--”

“Understandable, Admiral, given the circumstances,” he replied easily, shifting in his chair to lace his fingers together, resting an elbow against the arm while taking care not to activate any of the controls there. 

"Jim," Pike's expression was wary, concerned. Weak. "You’re acting a bit… you feeling alright, son?"

"Well," Jim replied, picking at a nail and smirking. "I suppose that depends on your definition of alright. You see,” his eyes snapped up to meet Pike’s gaze through the screen. “I could have sworn up and down I left you drowning in your own blood, old man."

[sery-chan-13]

Stay High

Karube Daikichi × Reader

Based off this song

No, because It's a three am sad thought that should have been kept in my head. This is totally not based off of my deepest darkest feeling and fears. Anyways, ignore that. Um... yeah.

Warnings: Episode 3 spoilers, Manga spoilers, weed, smoking, suicide (this went darker than I intended, ok?), and another terrible attempt at angst :)

"Karu! For the last time, we're not getting a freaking parrot!" You scolded. "Aww, why not babe? They're cute," he said, pouting. You smiled kissing him quickly. "... I'll think about it," you said, before heading out. "I think that means we will have a-" "Don't push your luck babe. I'll see you after work."

_______________________________________

"And here is my attempt at trying to be nice. Happy anniversary!" You chirped, sliding a rather large gift his way. It had a draped cover over it, so he couldn't see inside. He looked at you suspiciously, slowly taking it in his hands. You had a camera in your hands, and we're smirking. He didn't trust that smirk. "Why do you have that camera?" He asked, nodding to it. "Just filming. It's a special day babe," you said, hiding your smile. "Can i-" "Don't you dare shake it-" He raised his hands in mock surrender, before slowly lifting the sheet.

You saw the smile that spread across his face. "I said I'd think about it," you said. He stood up, pulling your waist into him. He kissed you softly, making you smile in your head. "I'm guessing this means you like your gift?" You asked, a smirk on your face. "It's a fucking parrot, hell yeah I like it," he said. You laughed, pressing a kiss to his temple.

Tears blurred your vision, falling onto the screen of the camera. Had it really been a year since then?

"Ok, now I get to film you! Welcome to day 1 of our roadtrip, I don't know where we're going, but we'll find out soon enough," Karube said, turning the camera to face him. He then turned it to face you. You were putting your luggage into the trunk of your car, and looked up with a smile, giving the camera a peace sign. The parrot, who you two decided to name Nijiko after much deliberation due to its coloring, squawked on your shoulder. You smiled. "Yes, you'll be going to day care  for a while Nijiko," you spoke to the bird, petting it's beak softly. The bird shivered. "Day care? Nijiko day care?" It squawked, tilting it's head to the side. You nodded. "Yes, smart bird. Nijiko is going to daycare," you praised. "I sometimes wonder if she loves the bird more than me. The answer is yes. Yes she does," Karube said, laughing as you spoke to the bird.

"Update, it's been 4 hours, and we are in the middle of no where. The child(the bird) has been dropped off at day care... well boarding? For the week. The music's pretty good though, and this angel next to me is still here, so we're all good," he said. He was really serious about filming this. "Babe, why are you filming this again?" You asked, reaching to grab his hand on the center console. "Because memories baby girl," he responded, kissing the back of your hand as it was intertwined with his. You laughed, blowing him a kiss, turning your attention back to the road.

"Day 3 of our roadtrip, (Y/N) is deciding on what to wear, but as I've told her, she looks great in everything," he stated. You flipped him off, picking out something to wear finally. "Wowwwww, I can really feel the love," he said sarcastically, holding a hand to his chest dramatically. "Shut up, you know I love you," you said, rolling your eyes. "I know you do. Who wouldn't love me?" he joked. "I don't know babe. Watch it though, 'cause you're mine~!"

"Ok, it's a few hours later, (Y/N) is getting snacks, and I'm super nervous, because of this," he said, talking to camera. He pulled out a small box, showing the ring to the camera. "I've been documenting this whole thing like a maniac, because I didn't want her to be suspicious. But anyways, yeah... I've been thinking about it for a while, seeing as we've been together since high school. I am terrified, in all honesty," he rambled, running a hand through his hair. He put the small box back to where you wouldn't find it, but he wouldn't lose it. He saw you walking back to the car, and smiled. You opened the door, giving him a weird look. "You're filming again?" You questioned. He nodded. "You love the sound of your voice don't you?" You asked with a smile. He laughed, "Not as much as I love yours."

_______________________________________

He placed the camera was on a nearby fence post, facing you two, close enough to see and hear both of you. He started recording, and gave a thumbs up to the camera. You looked out to the water, admiring the hues of blue. The water crashed into the shore, spraying you with water. "You know when we get married, I'm definitely going to take you here again," he said. You kept looking out at the water, not noticing him. "When we get married? You already have this planed?" You laughed. You turned to face him, not seeing him at eye level. You looked down, and your eyes widened. "As I was saying, when we get married-" he started, getting interrupted when you jumped onto him, throwing your arms around his neck. You both fell to the sand, and you two couldn't help but laugh. "Are you serious? Like, really?" You asked, tears in your eyes. "Yeah, I'm serious. (Y/N), you've been with me for what seems like forever. I love you so much, and I want to be yours forever. Just as much as you'll be mine. So... would you do me the honor, and marry me?" He asked. He might have sounded confident, but he was shaking on the inside. The tears in your eyes fell, and you laughed nodding. "Yes, a million times yes," you said. He laughed, letting out a sigh of relief. You hugged him tightly, your head in the crook of his neck. "Forever and ever?" You whispered. "Forever and ever."

You looked down at the ring on your finger, crying even harder. His side of the bed stayed empty, no one would ever be able to sleep there. Not even you. His side of the room stayed untouched. The same way it had been left that morning. Before the accident.

"(Y/N)... I know you're sad, but this isn't healthy for you... just... call me back once you get this," Arisu sighed. "No answer again?" Usagi asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. He shook his head. "She's been with our group as long as I can remember. And she's been... she had been... with Karube even longer. If it's hard on me, I can't believe how hard it must be on her," Arisu explained. Usagi pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I'm sure she's fine. All people cope with things differently. Just give her space."

You were most definitely not fine. The grief that filled you everytime you saw Arisu's name on your phone, when you looked at anything that once belonged to Karube.  For the first time in the past few weeks, you wandered into the kitchen, and saw the binder filled with the ideas you two had for the wedding. You looked away, tears filling your eyes once more. You couldn't escape the sorrow that had filled your life. It seemed like he was everywhere. Even when you turned on the damn TV the news was talking about the incident. The names of the victims would pop up with pictures, and you would quickly turn it off. You grabbed the folder, ripping up all the papers in there, shredding them to bits in a fit of sadness. You dropped to your knees, holding the final piece of paper. You sniffled, wiping your eyes, looking down. It was in Karube's hand writing, and you took a deep breath. Eventually, you would have to read these things. Eventually, you would have to clean up his side of the room. You decided to start off small. By reading whatever this was.

'I may not be good at expressing my feelings, and this is not going to be the first time you've all heard me tell you how wonderful this woman is, and how much I love her. It certainly won't be the last, if I have any say in it. To which I do. If I could go back to the day we met, and you told me I would be marrying her, I would believe it. Because I've loved you from day one (Y/N). And now, I'll have you. Forever and ever.'

- Karube (rough draft, don't let (Y/N) find this)

You whimpered, holding the piece of paper to your chest. This was too much for you. You needed a distraction.

"Eh, just give me the money, no one will ever know," the woman said. You gave her the money, and she passed you a bag. "I promise it gets better dear. And be careful with that," she said sweetly. You nodded, your face so devoid of any emotion, it was hard to tell if you were still alive. Your world felt so numb to any emotion but hurt.

The burn of the smoke in your throat was satisfying. For the first time since his death, you felt something. Your eyes lazily looked up, staring at the ceiling.  The smell of the weed filled up the room and you rolled your eyes. For once the pain was gone. You couldn't think of anything in the moment other than being hungry. The first time in weeks that had happened.

That was your new routine. Wake up, lounge around, look through the videos and pictures of both of you, get high of your mind. It was the only way you'd forget. Was it healthy? No. Did you care? Also no. You started ignoring Arisu's calls, messages, and voice mails. Leaving them unseen, and unheard. He was worried, and Usagi had gotten worried as well, even though she'd only met you once at the hospital. You seemed like a pleasant person, and according to Arisu, you never left someone in the dark that long. You would usually respond quickly if you weren't at work. But, do to the incident, there wasn't work for a few weeks. That made him worry.

When he found out why you weren't answering, he was shocked. Your apartment wasn't exactly a mess. There were a few papers scattered in the kitchen, and uncollected mail, but other than that, your apartment was clean. He was so confused, hearing you giggling and talking to yourself in your room.

He knocked on the door, opening it slowly. "(Y-y/N)?" He asked hesitantly. You looked up, your eyes lazy and red. The smell of weed in your room was strong, the smoke going out of the window. How long had you been doing this? Had it become self destructive? These were questions he asked himself before seeing you doze off to sleep.

"What the hell were you thinking (Y/N)! You can't- you can't destroy your life over it! I- I was so worried! I've already lost two friends, I can't lose you too!" He scolded. It was a few hours later, and your high had passed. "Why do you care?" You snapped, the conversation being boring to you. The hurt you hadn't felt in weeks came back. He was back in your mind, not as your wonderful fiancé, but as the man you had lost. The man who you had to bury in the ground. It was horrible. Your mind hated the images of his body, lifeless and devoid of his usual smile. You hated it. Absolutely despised it.

"Because you're my friend! You've been my friend since high school! I know it hurts (Y/N), believe me I know, but you can't destroy your fucking life and mental health!" He scolded. It was so unfair to you, in your head. That he was saying something like that. "You want to know what's really destroying my mental health?! Not having him anymore! The fact that he's dead, and I can't- I can't-" you couldn't finish your sentence. Arisu felt bad, but this was an intervention. He had to be a bit forceful for you to stop. "Karube wouldn't want you to do this," he said softly. You felt more tears fall. But you didn't know how to deal with this. "How do you know what he wants?! He's dead!" You screamed. "H-hes dead," you whispered, your voice breaking. Arisu hugged you tightly as you cried. "Can I just know why?" He asked. "He's gone, and I have to stay high all the time to keep him off my mind. Gotta stay high... all my life to forget I'm missing him," you whispered. It was true. It was the only way you could feel something other than pain. The smoke made your mind hazy, and your sadness drifted away. But it wasn't healthy. And it would never be. "It gets better (Y/N)... please, just... stay with me for a week. So I can have peace of mind?"

2 years later

You sat on the sand of the beach, the waves crashed onto the rocks nearby, and a breeze blew the salt water into your face. You looked down at the ring on your finger, sighing at the sight of the shiny gem. You smiled sadly, pressing a kiss to it. "Soon my darling... soon we'll be together again. Forever and ever."

Because the high kept him off your mind, you didn't learn how to cope any other way. The only way was to feel any other pain. You had tried to meet other people, but no one was ever as good. You couldn't even talk to other guys without feeling guilt. It felt wrong. It was like whatever you did, you couldn't get over it. At all. In fact, it had gotten worse over the years. Especially on the yearly anniversary of the incident. Reporters would go to your home and ask you questions, seeing as people had asked you while you were in the hospital. How we're you supposed to get over it when you were reminded constantly?

So there was no thoughts in your head as you walked into the water. It was cold, shocking you. If you didn't drown, you'd die of hypothermia. And that was fine with you.

Forever and ever, no?

Ok, ok, ok.... wow, wowowowowow, this was a three am sad thought that did not have to be written, ok, um wow... that was darker than I intended, holy shit-

I promise I'm done with the terrible attempts at angst, and I promise I'm working on the my other oneshots/books. It's just that when I have an idea, I need to write it before I forget.

Remember that people love you, even if you think no one does, I promise you they do. If you really need help, please find it, and if you would like, I'm always glad to talk to people if they need my help.

[eldritchw1tch]

i don’t want you like a best friend: a tswift-pimms playlist

i don’t want you like a best friend: a tswift-pimms playlist 

link

this is the pimms playlist i spent more than a year working on from like, 2018 to the end of 2019! as such, it only contains music up through lover, not anything from folklore or evermore. @permets-2​ finally poked me into posting the liner notes, which I gave up on because tumblr formatting was fighting me, so please know i haven’t actually looked at them since 2019 and there might still be missing things? idk.

this playlist is absolutely dedicated to my beloved @faiasakura​, who did her own version of an all-tswift pimms playlist completely independently (we actively avoided comparing notes, lol), which can be found here!

i don’t really go here lately but i hope this is of interest to someone!

Prologue

1. Don’t Blame Me (reputation)

for you, I would fall from grace

Just to touch your face

If you walk away, I'd beg you on my knees to stay

…

Lord save me, my drug is my baby

I'll be usin' for the rest of my life

Act 1: The Q

2. Gorgeous (reputation)

a crush

Ocean blue eyes looking in mine

I feel like I might sink and drown and die

…

You're so gorgeous

I can't say anything to your face

'Cause look at your face

And I'm so furious

At you for making me feel this way

But what can I say?

You're gorgeous

3. Treacherous (Red)

something magnetic, pulling them both in

And I'll do anything you say

If you say it with your hands

And I'd be smart to walk away

But you're quicksand

…

Your name has echoed through my mind

And I just think you should, think you should know

That nothing safe is worth the drive

And I will follow you, follow you home

4. Dress (reputation)

a shared and precious secret: love, desperate and messy and everything. But also: the scrutiny, the frenetic anxiety, the fear.

I’m spilling wine in the bathtub

You kiss my face and we're both drunk

Everyone thinks that they know us

But they know nothing about—

All of this silence and patience, pining and anticipation

My hands are shaking from holding back from you

5. Tied Together With a Smile (Taylor Swift)

the pressure builds; jack’s anxiety gets worse

Hold on, baby you're losing it

The water's high, you're jumping into it

And letting go, and no one knows

That you cry, but you don't tell anyone

That you might not be the golden one

And you're tied together with a smile

But you're coming undone

6. Long Live (Speak Now)

the glory, the playoffs, the memorial cup: the golden boys of hockey, on top of the world

Long live the walls we crashed through

All the kingdom lights shined just for me and you

I was screaming, long live all the magic we made

And bring on all the pretenders

One day, we will be remembered

…

Hold on, to spinning around

Confetti falls to the ground

May these memories break our fall

7. State of Grace (Red)

the 34 days, inside kent’s euphoria

This is a state of grace

This is the worthwhile fight

Love is a ruthless game

Unless you play it good and right

These are the hands of fate

You’re my Achilles heel

this is the golden age of something good and right and real

8. Cruel Summer (Lover)

(that golden season and its dark underbelly)

So cut the headlights, summer's a knife

I'm always waiting for you just to cut to the bone

Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes

And if I bleed, you'll be the last to know

-

Said, "I'm fine," but it wasn't true

I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you

And I snuck in through the garden gate

Every night that summer just to seal my fate (Oh)

And I scream, "For whatever it's worth

I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?"

9. Haunted (Speak Now)

the overdose: kent finds jack on the bathroom floor

Whoa, holding my breath

Won't lose you again

Something's made your eyes go cold

-

Come on, come on, don't leave me like this

I thought I had you figured out

Something's gone terribly wrong

You're all I wanted

10. I Know Places (1989)

kent in the waiting room, holding on hope

Something happens when everybody finds out

See the vultures circling, dark clouds

Love's a fragile little flame, it could burn out

It could burn out

…

Lights flash and we'll run for the fences

Let them say what they want, we won't hear it

Loose lips sink ships all the damn time

Not this time

Act 2: The Fallout

11. The Story of Us (Speak Now)

kent goes to the draft; jack won’t answer his calls

Now I'm standing alone in a crowded room

And we're not speaking

And I'm dying to know

Is it killing you like it's killing me?

Yeah, and I don't know what to say

Since the twist of fate, when it all broke down

And the story of us looks a lot like a tragedy now

…

The battle's in your hands now

But I would lay my armor down

If you say you'd rather love than fight

12. Last Kiss (Speak Now)

jack and kent, the same realization from opposite sides

So I'll go sit on the floor

Wearing your clothes

All that I know is

I don't know how to be something you miss

I never thought we'd have a last kiss

Never imagined we'd end like this

Your name, forever the name on my lips

13. Death By A Thousand Cuts (Lover)

Starting to live with the devastation and the broken heart

Saying goodbye is death by a thousand cuts

Flashbacks waking me up

I get drunk, but it's not enough

’Cause the morning comes and you're not my baby

I look through the windows of this love

Even though we boarded them up

Chandelier's still flickering here

’Cause I can't pretend it's okay when it's not

It's death by a thousand cuts

14. If This Was A Movie (Speak Now)

regrets and memories

Last night, I heard my own heart beating

Sounded like footsteps on my stairs

Six months gone and I'm still reaching

Even though I know you're not there

I was playing back a thousand memories, baby

Thinkin' 'bout everything we've been through

Maybe I've been going back too much lately

When time stood still and I had you

15. Cold as You (Taylor Swift)

the grief and pain become anger and bitterness

And when you take, you take the very best of me

So I start a fight cause I need to feel something

And you do what you want cause I'm not what you wanted

…

You put up walls and paint them all a shade of gray

And I stood there loving you and wished them all away

And you come away with a great little story

Of a mess of a dreamer with the nerve to adore you

Interlude 1: Jack

16. I Almost Do (Red)

kent doesn’t know as much as he thinks he does (but jack doesn’t either)

I bet you think I either moved on or hate you

‘Cause each time you reach out, there’s no reply

I bet it never, ever occurred to you

That I can’t say hello to you

And risk another goodbye

…

Oh, we made quite a mess, babe

It’s probably better off this way

And I confess, babe

In my dreams, you’re touching my face

And asking me if I want to try again with you

And I almost do

Act 3: Coming of Age in Vegas

17. New Romantics (1989)

vegas; teammates; living in the moment; drinking, dancing, and self-destructing

We're all here, the lights and boys are blinding

We hang back, it's all in the timing

It's poker

He can't see it in my face

But I'm about to play my Ace (ahh)

We need love, but all we want is danger

We team up, then switch sides like a record changer

The rumors are terrible and cruel

But honey, most of them are true

…

Heartbreak is the national anthem

We sing it proudly

We’re too busy dancing (yeah) to get knocked off our feet

Baby, we're the new romantics

The best people in life are free

18. Begin Again (Red)

kent starts to move on

And you throw your head back laughing like a little kid

I think it's strange that you think I'm funny 'cause he never did

I've been spending the last eight months

Thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end

But on a Wednesday in a cafe, I watched it begin again

19. The Way I Loved You (Fearless)

all the drinking and dancing and dating still feel empty and hollow; he just wants to feel again; he just wants that love back

I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain

It's 2 AM and I'm cursing your name

I'm so in love that I acted insane

And that's the way I loved you

Breaking down and coming undone

It's a roller coaster kind of rush

And I never knew I could feel that much

And that's the way I loved you

…

He can't see the smile I'm faking

And my heart's not breaking

'Cause I'm not feeling anything at all

And you were wild and crazy

Just so frustrating

Intoxicating, complicated

20. The Lucky One (Red)

kent parson: the loneliest boy, so alone at the top of the world

You had it figured out since you were in school

Everybody loves pretty, everybody loves cool

So overnight, you look like a sixties queen

…

And they tell you that you’re lucky, but you’re so confused

'Cause you don’t feel pretty, you just feel used

And all the young things line up to take your place

—

Another name goes up in lights

You wonder if you’ll make it out alive

21. Come In With The Rain (Fearless)

(starting to move on is not the same as letting go)

I’ve watched you so long, screamed your name

I don’t know what else I can say

…

But I’ll leave my window open

'Cause I’m too tired at night to call your name

Just know I’m right here hoping

That you’ll come in with the rain

Act 4: Implosion

22. Out of the Woods (1989)

memories he can’t escape of a love like a car crash

The night we couldn't quite forget

When we decided, we decided

To move the furniture so we could dance

Baby, like we stood a chance

Two paper airplanes flying, flying, flying

And I remember thinking

-

Are we out of the woods yet? Are we out of the woods yet? Are we out of the woods yet?

…

You took a Polaroid of us

Then discovered (then discovered)

The rest of the world was black and white

But we were in screaming color

23. Red (Red)

Kent decides to go to epikegster

Loving him is like driving a new Maserati

Down a dead-end street

Faster than the wind, passionate as sin

Ending so suddenly

…

Remembering him comes in flashbacks and echoes

Tell myself it's time now, gotta let go

But moving on from him is impossible

When I still see it all in my head

In burning red

Loving him was red

24. The Last Time (Red)

didja miss me? (something tentative; something a little bit hopeful on both sides)

Find myself at your door

Just like all those times before

I’m not sure how I got there

All roads they lead me here

I imagine you are home

In your room, all alone

And you open your eyes into mine

And everything feels better

25. The Archer (Lover)

kent tries to extend an olive branch but it’s still covered in thorns

Combat, I'm ready for combat

I say I don't want that, but what if I do?

'Cause cruelty wins in the movies

I've got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you

…

I've been the archer, I've been the prey

Who could ever leave me, darling

But who could stay?

…

And I cut off my nose just to spite my face

Then I hate my reflection for years and years

26. Bad Blood (1989)

jack’s answer to kent’s wounded lashing out

Oh, it's so sad to

Think about the good times

You and I

…

’Cause baby, now we've got bad blood

You know it used to be mad love

So take a look what you've done

’Cause baby, now we've got bad blood, hey!

27. Breathe (Fearless)

kent, driving away from epikegster

I see your face in my mind as I drive away

'Cause none of us thought it was gonna end that way

People are people and sometimes we change our minds

But it's killing me to see you go after all this time

…

And we know it's never simple, never easy

Never a clean break, no one here to save me

You're the only thing I know like the back of my hand

…

And I can't breathe without you, but I have to

Breathe without you but I have to

28. All Too Well (Red)

despite all the pain, there’s an irresistible nostalgia for what they had all those years ago—for when things were so much simpler

Maybe we got lost in translation

Maybe I asked for too much

But maybe this thing was a masterpiece

'Til you tore it all up

Running scared, I was there, I remember it all too well

And you call me up again just to break me like a promise

So casually cruel in the name of being honest

I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here

'Cause I remember it all, all, all

Too well

…

Time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it

I'd like to be my old self again

But I'm still trying to find it

Interlude 2: Kent

29. Fifteen (Fearless)

a memory, a reflection

'Cause when you're fifteen and somebody tells you they love you

You're gonna believe them

And when you're fifteen and your first kiss

Makes your head spin 'round

But in your life you'll do things greater than

Dating the boy on the football team

But I didn't know it at fifteen

…

When all you wanted was to be wanted

Wish you could go back and tell yourself what you know now

Back then I swore I was gonna marry him someday

But I realized some bigger dreams of mine

Act 5: Moving On, Growing Up

30. Clean (1989)

finally learning to be his own person, separate from that shared past

There was nothing left to do (Oh-oh, oh-oh)

When the butterflies turned to

Dust that covered my whole room

So I punched a hole in the roof (Oh-oh, oh-oh)

Let the flood carry away all my pictures of you

…

The water filled my lungs, I screamed so loud

But no one heard a thing

…

Rain came pouring down

When I was drowning, that's when I could finally breathe

And by morning

Gone was any trace of you, I think I am finally clean

31. 22 (Red)

friends and freedom, and real joy in that this time around

It feels like a perfect night

To dress up like hipsters

And make fun of our exes, uh-uh, uh-uh

It feels like a perfect night

For breakfast at midnight

To fall in love with strangers, uh-uh, uh-uh

…

Yeah

We're happy, free, confused, and lonely at the same time

It's miserable and magical, oh, yeah

Tonight's the night when we forget about the deadlines

It's time, oh-oh

32. So It Goes… (reputation)

[a doomed love can still be a good one]

'Cause we break down a little

But when you get me alone, it's so simple

'Cause baby, I know what you know

We can feel it

…

And all the pieces fall right into place

Getting caught up in a moment

Lipstick on your face

So it goes…

…

I'm yours to keep

And I'm yours to lose

You know I'm not a bad girl, but I

Do bad things with you

So it goes…

33. Dancing With Our Hands Tied (reputation)

[a doomed love can still be a good one]

I, I loved you in secret

First sight, yeah, we love without reason

Oh, twenty-five years old

Oh, how were you to know?

…

Could've spent forever with your hands in my pockets

Picture of your face in an invisible locket

You said there was nothing in the world that could stop it

I had a bad feeling

…

I'd kiss you as the lights went out

Swaying as the room burned down

I'd hold you as the water rushes in

If I could dance with you again

34. Wildest Dreams (1989)

[a doomed love can still be a good one]

He's so tall and handsome as hell

He's so bad, but he does it so well

I can see the end as it begins

My one condition is

…

Say you'll remember me

Standing in a nice dress

Staring at the sunset, babe

Red lips and rosy cheeks

Say you'll see me again

Even if it's just in your

Wildest dreams, ah-aah, haa

34. Shake It Off (1989)

At the top of his game, at the top of his sport, and actually happy at long last

I never miss a beat

I'm lightning on my feet

And that's what they don’t see, mm, mm

…

But I keep cruisin'

Can't stop, won't stop groovin'

It's like I got this music in my mind

Saying it's gonna be alright

…

'Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play

And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate

Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake

I shake it off, I shake it off

Heartbreakers gonna break, break, break, break, break

And the fakers gonna fake, fake, fake, fake, fake

Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake

I shake it off, I shake it off

35. Holy Ground (Red)

Remembering with enough distance and experience to appreciate what was, not ache from it

Spinning like a girl in a brand new dress

We had this big wide city all to ourselves

We blocked the noise with the sound of, "I need you"

And for the first time, I had something to lose

And I guess we fell apart in the usual way

And the story's got dust on every page

But sometimes, I wonder how you think about it now

And I see your face in every crowd

…

'Cause darling, it was good

Never looking down

And right there where we stood

Was holy ground

Act 6: Reunion

36. ME! (Lover)

reconnection, reconciliation, re-appreciation

I know I tend to make it about me

I know you never get just what you see

But I will never bore you, baby

(And there's a lot of lame guys out there)

…

'Cause one of these things is not like the others

Livin' in winter, I am your summer

Baby doll, when it comes to a lover

I promise that you'll never find another like me-e-e

37. This Love (1989)

an unexpected reawakening

Tossing, turning

Struggled through the night with someone new

And I could go on and on, on and on

Lantern, burning

Flickered in my mind, only you

But you were still gone, gone, gone

…

Been losing grip, on sinking ships

You showed up just in time

…

This love is good, this love is bad

This love is alive back from the dead, oh-oh, oh

These hands had to let it go free, and

This love came back to me, oh-oh, oh

38. End Game (reputation) (ft. ed sheeran as jack)

After all this time, there are things they aren’t ever going to let go of again, no matter the trouble they bring

I got a bad boy persona, that's what they like (what they like)

You love it, I love it too 'cause you my type (You my type)

You hold me down, and I protect you with my life

…

I don't wanna touch you, I don't wanna be

Just another ex-love you don’t wanna see

I don’t wanna miss you (I don't wanna miss you)

Like the other girls do

I don’t wanna hurt you, I just wanna be

Drinking on a beach with you all over me

I know what they all say (I know what they all say)

But I ain't tryna play

…

I wanna be your end game (End game)

I wanna be your first string (First string)

I wanna be your A-Team (A-Team)

I wanna be your end game, end game

39. You Are In Love (1989)

something real; something sacred; something to build a life on

You can hear it in the silence (silence), silence (silence), you

You can feel it on the way home (way home), way home (way home), you

You can see it with the lights out (lights out), lights out (lights out)

You are in love, true love

You are in love

…

You kiss on sidewalks

You fight and you talk

One night, he wakes

Strange look on his face

Pauses, then says "You're my best friend"

And you knew what it was, he is in love

40. Change (Fearless)

when the two biggest hockey players of their generation come out of the closet—together—are in love with each other—it changes more lives than just theirs

So we've been outnumbered, raided, and now cornered

It's hard to fight when the fight ain’t fair

We're getting stronger now, finding things they never found

They might be bigger but we're faster and never scared

You can walk away, say we don't need this

But there's something in your eyes says we can beat this

…

'Cause these things will change

Can you feel it now?

These walls that they put up to hold us back will fall down

This revolution, the time will come

For us to finally win

And we'll sing hallelujah, we'll sing hallelujah

Oh, oh

41. Call It What You Want (reputation)

When it stops mattering what anyone else thinks

All my flowers grew back as thorns

Windows boarded up after the storm

He built a fire just to keep me warm

All the drama queens taking swings

All the jokers dressing up as kings

They fade to nothing when I look at him

And I know I make the same mistakes every time

Bridges burn, I never learn

At least I did one thing right

I did one thing right

I'm laughing with my lover, makin' forts under covers

Trust him like a brother

Yeah, you know I did one thing right

Starry eyes sparkin' up my darkest night

…

My baby's fit like a daydream

Walking with his head down

I'm the one he's walking to

So call it what you want, yeah

Call it what you want to

42. Lover (Lover)

love

We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January

And this is our place, we make the rules

And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear

Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?

…

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close?

Forever and ever, ah

Take me out, and take me home

You're my, my, my, my lover

43. New Year’s Day (reputation)

love

You squeeze my hand three times in the back of the taxi

I can tell that it's gonna be a long road

I'll be there if you're the toast of the town, babe

Or if you strike out and you're crawling home

…

Don't read the last page

But I stay when it’s hard or it’s wrong or we're making mistakes

I want your midnights

But I’ll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day

44. Daylight (Lover)

Building a new life in the daylight

My love was as cruel as the cities I lived in

Everyone looked worse in the light

There are so many lines that I've crossed unforgiven

I'll tell you truth, but never goodbye

…

I once believed love would be (burning red)

But it's golden

Like daylight, like daylight

Like daylight, daylight

…

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you

I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you

I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night

And now I see daylight, I only see daylight

[karajaynetoday]

ours, for the rest of forever | ashton irwin

Hello friends! Here is a godparent!Ash one shot, based on this blurb about being godparents with Ashton and also inspired in part by that scene in Season 5 of One Tree Hill when Brooke is randomly looking after a baby but has to also finish fashion sketches so Lucas comes to her rescue with babysitting and it is overall very soft and cute. You know the one! Lol. 

A very big thank you to Jex @sadistmichael​ , Anna @cheekysos​ , Jae @jae-writes-fanfiction​ and Hailey @talkfastromance4​ for proof-reading and providing feedback on this when it was in its draft stages. You’re all absolute gems! 

Anyway, enjoy the softness and as always, please let me know what you think! I’ve got some thoughts for a potential part 2, so we’ll wait and see how part 1 goes :)

(This is a fem reader insert)

Word count: 3.3k words

Warnings: none

More writing here | send feedback/thoughts/suggestions here

When your best friend Alice told you she was having a baby, you were over the moon. She was honestly one of the most kind-hearted people you knew, and the amount of love in her heart for others would only bloom more for a little baby to hold and cherish. Her partner James had been by Alice’s side since your university days, and their relationship was one that was literally #goals. They’d moved over to Los Angeles because James had an opportunity to work at an indie creative agency working with music artists, and when you followed a year or so later to pursue a consulting job, they’d welcomed you with open arms into the little community they’d formed of Australian ex-pats, LA creatives and generally good quality, salt of the earth people. 

In the early days, there were lots of late nights (that became early mornings) running amok in West Hollywood, going from one house party to the next, but as you grew older, it became more likely to be a quiet Sunday sesh in someone’s backyard, with a barbeque cooking and someone playing their favourite tunes on a portable speaker while you floated in the swimming pool or lounged about on the grass with everyone’s various pets in attendance. When you met Ashton, he was drumming shirtless at his own house party, and then doing shots with James and their friend Calum. You were more than a little intimidated, although he had a kind face and welcoming nature, Ashton was forthcoming his opinions. On the other hand, you were always more reserved, and it took you  time to feel like you belonged with their crazy crew of friends. One night, you and Ashton ended up alone in the kitchen sharing some chicken nuggets and potato gems tater tots after a wild night on the house part dancefloor, and from there you could feel a solid friendship starting to take hold. 

A few months after Alice and James told you they were expecting, they’d invited you and Ashton out to brunch at one of your favourite spots. It was a little hole-in-the-wall café in Studio City that you’d first come to after Ashton wouldn’t stop raving about how good their iced coffees were. You all ordered your favourites (avocado smash with a side of smoked salmon and a hash brown for you, raspberry hotcakes for Alice, a breakfast burger for James, and pulled pork eggs benedict with a side of halloumi for Ashton) and were chatting away about your weeks at work when Alice reached down and pulled two envelopes out of her tote bag and handed on to you and one to Ashton. You took them, looking confusedly at Alice and James, who had big goofy smiles on their faces.

“Well, go on! Open them!” Alice half-shouted excitedly, squeezing James’ hand on top of the table. You and Ashton glanced at each other, perplexed, before tearing open the envelopes and finding a card inside. Yours read, “Will you be my godmother?” in gold writing on the front, and inside was an ultrasound photo with a handwritten note from Alice that made you tear up when you started reading it. You could see in your peripheral vision that Ash had a corresponding card in his envelope too, and he was standing up to give James and Alice a hug with an enthusiastic “Fuck YES! Of course I will!” that garnered some disapproving looks from the middle-aged women sitting near you. You held it together just enough to stand up and exchange hugs and choke out a “Y-y-yes” to Alice and James, before basically bursting into full blown tears of happiness and apologising profusely as your brunch was delivered to the table. As you wiped away your tears and managed to begin eating your avocado smash, you felt Ashton squeeze your hand reassuringly under the table, and when you glanced towards him he was grinning at you with a smile that was as bright as a thousand suns. 

It was a normal June day at the office a few months later when your phone pinged with a text from Alice in your group chat with her, James and Ashton that 

 read “It’s go-time. We’ll keep you updated!”. You replied with lots of exclamation points and crying emojis, and for Alice and James to let you know if they needed anything, and a few minutes later Ashton had penned a full paragraph about the beauty of the creation of life, how he knew that Alice and James would be incredible parents, and that he couldn’t wait to meet the little one once they made their way into the world. Ashton was frustratingly eloquent sometimes. Later that night, you received a photo message of a small, pink baby snuggled up on Alice’s chest, with James’ arm thrown around her shoulders, and the caption “Charlie Rose, ten fingers, ten toes. Come visit tomorrow, she can’t wait to meet you x” and you could barely sleep from the anticipation of meeting your darling goddaughter for the first time.

Ashton insisted on meeting you at the hospital so you could visit Alice, James and Charlie together (“Dude, we’re a godparent team here! A package deal! A dynamic duo! Can’t have you getting in there as the favourite from day one!”) and you’d never seen him more gentle or smitten than when the small, wriggly bundle of blankets that was Charlie Rose was placed in his arms. Ashton rocked her gently, kissing her head, and whispering to her about how incredible she was and how excited he was to see her grow. James was snapping away with his camera, and he asked you and Ash to stand together for a photo holding Charlie, which would later be stuck on your fridge for years to come (and possibly be your phone lockscreen, but no need to mention that to Ashton). 

Charlie was a tricky baby at first, resisting sleep and struggling with colic, but Alice and James were incredible and persistent and by the time she was 6 months old, they basically had the hang of this parenting thing. They didn’t want to christen Charlie in a church, but instead decided to hold one of your cherished backyard barbeques as a naming celebration for her. All of your nearest and dearest were there, and Alice’s mum had even flown in from Australia to meet her newest granddaughter. Despite it being an incredibly informal affair, Ashton insisted on making a speech about how he felt to be in Charlie’s life, to love and support her through every milestone and challenge she might encounter along the way. Charlie was happily gurgling in Ashton’s arms as he spoke, and she reached up to grab at his cheeks when he told her he loved her. Alice’s mum insisted on getting photos of everyone, including you and Ashton holding Charlie, and you tried to ignore the butterflies you felt when Ash slid his arm around your waist and pulled you into his side for a cosy photo pose. Were you actually starting to fall for him, or was it just the baby fever talking? Because damn, that man looked good with a baby in his arms.

When Charlie was almost 12 months old, Alice decided that she wanted to go back to work a few days a week. Charlie would be in childcare for most of the days, but you’d recently adopted a flexible working arrangement with your own office, and you insisted that you would love to look after Charlie for one day a week. The older Charlie got, the more adventurous she became, so what you’d originally envisioned as nice, quiet days of baking and craft activities and napping soon became full of visits to the playground and the beach and the zoo. Once Ashton heard about your regular babysitting day, he insisted on clearing his schedule as best he could, and joined the outings you and Charlie went on. It’s so much easier to cope with her boundless energy (and occasional temper tantrums) when you and Ash are together, and you have to admit it’s just as nice on the quieter days as well, when you snuggle in on your couch to watch a Disney movie, or do some puzzles with Charlie on the lounge room floor. 

When Ashton was back out on tour, he’d insist on FaceTiming with you and Charlie on your babysitting day so he didn’t miss out on all the fun. Sometimes he’d read her a story or sing her a lullaby before naptime, and sometimes the timezones wouldn’t work out and he’d end up calling during naptime, so the two of you just spent a little time catching up on each other’s lives from your opposite sides of the country or the planet. Ashton also loved collecting little souvenirs for Charlie on his touring travels, and your group chat with Alice and James was regularly filled with photos of snow globes or little soft mascot toys he’d found in one city or the next. It was so cute how excited Ashton got when he found a new souvenir for Charlie, and you couldn’t help but imagine how adorable he’d be when he had his own children and carried on little traditions like this for them too. 

One particular weekend, Alice and James were going away overnight to attend a friend’s wedding nearby, and despite their anxiety and nerves (and admittedly, your own), they decided to leave Charlie with you for the night as your house is the main one besides their own that she spends time in. They dropped Charlie off just after lunchtime, and after a teary goodbye, she’s soon happily playing with her toy cars and trains on the lounge room carpet (including making broom-broom noises, what a cutie) when you get an unexpected call from your boss. They’re rambling about a client needing an urgent rewrite on something that you’d submitted the previous day, a pretty sizeable project, and you could feel yourself starting to fill with dread at the idea of having to rework the entire thing while also keeping Charlie happy and entertained. After managing to jot down the gist of the rewrite on the back of a colouring in page you found on your coffee table and ending the call with your boss, you took a deep, calming breath before looking over to where Charlie was still playing on the floor. Sure, she looked content and adorable now, but nap time was fast approaching, and then dinner, and then eventually bedtime, and there was nothing Charlie liked more than stomping her feet and putting up a fight where sleep was involved. It was time to call for help, and your fingers found Ashton’s contact in your phone and hit “call” before you realised what you were doing.

“Hey, how’s it going with my favourite girl?” Ashton answered cheerily, and your heart stopped beating for a moment before you mentally face-palmed when you realised that he was talking about Charlie, not you, being his favourite girl.

“Hey Ash! All good so far, but um… I think I’m going to need some help. My boss is having a crisis, so I need to smash out some edits and new content in the next three hours, but Charlie’s due to go for a nap and you know that she -” You could feel yourself starting to sound more panicked with each word that you spoke, but Ashton quickly cut you off with his soothing voice.

“That she likes to pick a fight at nap time, yes. A truly assertive future world leader on our hands, I reckon. I’m just finishing up a demo, but I’ll be there in 20 minutes. I’ll sort dinner as well, spaghetti sound okay?” He mused, sounding as calm as ever.

“That… would be amazing. Thank you. You’re actually the best human to exist, you know that?” You gushed, feeling some of your anxiety immediately begin to disappear. 

Within half an hour, Ash was in your lounge room handling Charlie’s nap time negotiations while you were furiously typing away at your laptop at the kitchen counter and fielding more frantic phone calls from your boss. Another 20 minutes passed before Ash proclaimed victory as Charlie lost her battle against sleep, and he came to see you in the kitchen and make a start on dinner. You were so lost in your task that you didn’t hear him come in, and you jumped a mile out of your seat in fright when he gently touched your shoulder in greeting.

“Jesus christ, Ash! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” You huffed, taking your glasses off and rubbing your eyes in exhaustion. 

Ashton leaned on the counter opposite you and raised his eyebrows in concern. “Sorry love, didn’t realise you didn’t hear me come in. You good?” 

Damn it, why was he always so nice to you these days? Remember the days when you were scared of him because he used to argue with you about politics and the state of the world? Why did those seem somehow easier because fear was more natural to you than whatever this other feeling was that you were starting to have whenever Ashton was around you. 

You sighed and put your glasses back on, frowning briefly at the screen before hitting save one more time (just in case your bad luck took a turn and fucked you over with lost documents). 

“Yep. Sorry. It’s just been a bit of a day. Did Charlie go down okay?” You forced a smile as you glanced up at Ashton over the top of your laptop screen. 

“Yeah, she gave in once I offered another bedtime singalong. And maybe, juuuust maybe, I might have mentioned something about some sweets after dinner…” Ash looked at you guiltily, licking his lips nervously. You rolled your eyes and shook your head at him, but you couldn’t keep the small smile off your face.

Ashton got started on making spaghetti while you tapped away at your computer, and soon enough you heard Charlie calling out for Ashton in her little sing-song voice on the baby monitor you had set up on the kitchen counter (“Asht-aaaaa! Where are youuuuu! Asht-aaaaa!”). The spaghetti smelled incredible, and when Ashton brought Charlie into the kitchen from her nap and she’d had a little while to play a bit more, you settled at the kitchen table to tuck into some dinner. Well, Charlie was more interested in playing with her food than actually eating it, but yours was delicious and for the third or fourth time that day, you thanked Ash profusely for being such a gem (to which he just gave you one of those dazzling smiles in response).  

After dinner, Ashton took Charlie for a bath and read her a bedtime story while you powered through the final part of the project edits you needed to finish before your boss burst a blood vessel. You could hear Ashton reading to Charlie on the baby monitor, doing all of the different character voices, and her little giggles in response were both breaking and warming your heart. Warming it with the cuteness and how much you loved that little girl and her cheeky soul, and breaking it with the guilt about how it was supposed to be you snuggled up reading to her, but instead you were frantically typing about key messages, marketing strategies and budget lines. You were doing your last section of re-writes when Ash came back into the kitchen, and this time you didn’t jump when he gently placed his hands on your shoulders. In fact, you leaned into his touch, and moaned quietly in relief as his thumbs began to work into the tension in your muscles.

“How’s it going?” Ashton asked quietly, continuing to press his hands into your back and shoulders.

“Almost there. Mostly just proof-reading now, and then I can send it and not fucking think about it for another second until at least Monday. Ash, I’m so sorry again, I know this isn’t what you had in mind for your Friday night and I should’ve been more organised but I just didn’t think that -” You began to ramble, feeling the guilt wash over you.

“Hey, hey. Stop. It’s fine. We’re a team, remember? The dynamic duo? Gotta stick together. We’ve got a whole lifetime of dealing with Charlie meltdowns and milestones ahead of us, love. It’s our job and our blessing, for the rest of forever. Don’t feel guilty over one night.” Ashton said softly, squeezing your shoulders and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. There were those butterflies again, and your skin was almost burning from where his hands had touched you. You simply nodded at his words, before returning to your laptop and the task at hand. Ashton stepped away and quietly began washing the dishes (honestly, is there anything this man didn’t do?) as you began typing again. 

Finally, about twenty minutes later, you hit send on the email to your boss with the completed rewrites, and shut your laptop with a deep sense satisfaction, letting out a triumphant whisper-yell, mindful of the sleeping child down the hallway from you. Ash looked up from where he was sat on the couch, scrolling on his phone, and rushed over to high-five you when he realised that you’d shut your laptop.

“Right. You go shower and I’ll put the kettle on, then it’s one episode of Sons of Anarchy and then off to bed with you.” Ash began, tugging you out of your seat and pushing you towards your bedroom before you could protest.

“Wait… how did you know I was watching Sons of Anarchy?!” You turned and asked, with one hand on the door to your bedroom.

“I was stalking through your Netflix earlier when you were lost in editing land. Plus, I know you can’t resist a charming male lead who has a killer smile and looks damn good in a leather jacket.” Ash chuckled, shooting you a wink and one of those goddamn smiles. 

You hated to admit it, but you felt so much better after your shower, and having Ash pull your feet up over his lap and absentmindedly run his hands softly across your legs from time to time wasn’t exactly bad either. You stuck to your promise of only one episode of Sons of Anarchy, and after pulling your groaning self up off the couch and jokingly half-carrying you to your bedroom door, Ashton bid you goodnight with a hug and a kiss to the forehead before disappearing into your guest room. 

As you settled into your own bed, alone, and pulled the blankets up over you, you couldn’t help but think how nice it was to have Ash so present with you and with Charlie, and how sweet it would be in the morning to wake up together in the same house and go for breakfast at your favourite little brunch spot down the street, before waiting for James and Alice to return in the early afternoon. It was all your own little family unit, and as you felt yourself being lulled into sleep, you also felt a deep sense of content in your heart about the loved ones in your life. And then also there were those butterflies, just slowly but surely making their presence known, and getting a little bigger every time you thought of Ashton, and how much he loved Charlie, and how much she loved him and you, and how much you loved them both.

Shit. Did you actually love him? Were you falling in love with Ashton Irwin? Before you could panic too much, the need for sleep won out, and you slept peacefully knowing two of your favourite people were also sleeping calmly in the rooms either side of you. 

More writing here | send feedback/thoughts/suggestions here

[zmwrites]

tag: 20 first lines

I was tagged by @teasenpaiwrites! Thank you!

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20 stories just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag others!

I was tagged in a similar game LITERALLY forever ago by @scmalarky PRE-BLOG MOVE, which makes it the oldest tag game sitting my drafts. It came with the following rules:

Rules: list the first lines of your last ten published stories. note if there are any patterns yourself and see if anyone else notices any! tag ten friends!

I put it off bc to date I’ve only published two stories over on Wattpad. So doing the first lines from the last twenty projects is somehow...easier? I suppose? 

I’ll be putting the opening paragraph or so of each piece, and will only be using WIPs that I actually started at the beginning. Anything that doesn’t start at the actual beginning will be skipped.

Anyways, this is going under a cut bc I know it’s going to be ridiculously long. In order of ‘last modified by me’ as per Google Docs:

Remnants

Radka had been a seamstress in a previous life. Trained from childhood on the most delicate stitches, the most intricate embellishments. She had worked for royalty, sewing crystals and spun gold into skirts for the biggest social events of the year. Her steady hand and attention to detail had earned her a job in the palace by fourteen, and a spot on the queen’s personal seamstress team by fifteen. But that was years in the past. The girl she had been then, demure and innocent, wouldn’t recognize the woman she had grown up to be.

Open Seas

Theresia Bowen sat in the back of one of her family carriages, forehead pressed against the window as she watched the countryside fly past. The sky stretched on forever above her, interrupted only by the occasional wispy white clouds, and the spring sun had melted the snow from the hills to her left. The grass was still struggling to grow but was scattered in patches across the mud. To her right, the sea rolled and waved to the horizon. Ships dotted the deep blue, their sails bright and full with wind. Most were trading ships, a few navy, and the smallest of them all were pleasure ships. It was how she knew they were close to her destination.

Indigo Wars

Violet Colby sat cross-legged on her narrow bed in the room she shared with her two sisters at Osbrick Estate. The name was a holdover from the property’s previous life as a stately home, though not much else had carried over. The walled compound was nestled in the eastern sands of Edristan, less than two kilometres west of the capital city, with sun-bleached buildings that housed several dozen orphans and foundlings.

Pine Hollow

It was a miserable Monday morning, with dark, heavy clouds masking the rising sun and a steady rain pounding the town of Pine Hollow and the surrounding area. The dirt trails through the dense forest were slick with mud, the tire ruts becoming puddles and the puddles becoming proper ponds. It was as far from ideal body hunting conditions as possible without snow, but Virginia Crane had a job to do and she wasn’t about to let some adverse weather stop her.

Rochester WIP

The wedding was supposed to begin in five minutes and the bride was nowhere to be found.

Evelyn Rochester, for her part, was not surprised. Her sister Dorothea had claimed a headache a week earlier to get out of a family outing and had been gone by the time they’d returned. A small chest and a collection of her clothing had been gone as well. Their parents had made inquiries to some family friends but no one had seen Dottie, and at twenty-six she was allowed to do as she pleased, so they’d been left to wait to see if she’d return.

Just Jane

Jane rolled over in the narrow bed, pressing her face into the pillow as though it would make it any easier to sleep. Even as she breathed in the warm, sweet scent of the bed owner’s favourite perfume—myrrh, rose, styrax, and marjoram—a new sound made her ears prick to attention.

UNSS Spectre

The spacecraft glided through the void, following its prey silently. It was using its minimum operating power, leaving the two inside to perform their duties without overhead or emergency lighting. Only the glow of their instruments illuminated the interior of the craft. 

“Cloaking device operating as normal,” Ensign Graecyn Ramsey said. She didn’t need to provide verbal updates since Captain Mezei could see everything that she could see and there was no one else aboard the tiny stealth class craft, but it was habit and she couldn’t seem to stop herself.

Fissures

Katherine Delacroix was seething. It was hard enough trying to get a gaggle of thirteen to eighteen year old girls to focus under normal circumstances but having the #1 most eligible bachelor of the school just hanging out at the back of the auditorium was making it nearly impossible. To make matters worse, the attention paid to the blond was bruising the egos of the boys in the group and she was painfully aware of how desperately the musical needed them not to quit. They already had a female Cogsworth and Le Fou; they didn't have enough girls with deep voices to play Gaston or Lumiere or, god forbid, Beast.

Snapshots

“Are you still looking for a roommate?” Misha asked, voice muffled slightly by whatever she was doing on the opposite end of the phone.

“You mean since you stole my last one? Yes,” Micah replied. He was stuck in traffic on his commute home from work, something his twin sister Misha knew, which was why she’d called when he had no excuse not to talk to her. It wasn’t that he didn’t like talking to her, he just wasn’t much of a talker.

“You’re gonna have to get over that,” she said.

The Tournament

The coin spun in lazy circles on the table, defying every law of physics. Izora Graham watched it with one hand held in a claw-like position over it. She didn't need to but it made it easier to cover the coin should anyone watch it too closely. The bar was still fairly empty so early in the evening and she was tucked away in the back booth away from the few early birds sitting at the counter, however any displays of magic would bring unwanted attention. Especially something that could be useful to any of the Upper Houses like her telekinesis.

Noyama Contest

Earthens had spread across dozens of galaxies once they’d perfected faster-than-light travel, and hundreds of solar systems within those galaxies. PT-759 was one of the galaxies they’d colonized only to find that it was already inhabited. It had ended up working out alright though, as the native species had radically different planetary needs and also happened to find Earthens downright adorable.

Naetov was a smaller planet at the edge of Federation-controlled space in PT-759. It had a few key cities where government funding was funneled to keep them perfect for non-Earthen tourists. Those cities were clean and friendly, open spaces and carefully maintained flora making up the downtown cores, streamlined designs and shiny surfaces giving the impression of a planet on the cusp of significance.

Gossamer Girl

It was the first day of winter and things were already looking bad. Even though the cold weather had held off for an extra two weeks, the harvest had been poor. A mold had festered in their southern field during the wet spring and had spread quickly. They’d razed the infected sections as soon as the fungus had been discovered but it had already destroyed a large swath of plants. They’d lost nearly a quarter of their usual yield and the troubles had only spiralled from there.

Knotted Strings

The room was just a bit too cold to be comfortable. The walls were wood panelled with some sort of reddish wood that matched the flooring. Rows of chairs with collapsible desks filled most of the lecture hall, with the front of the room dominated by a whiteboard and a table. The professor, hawkish in appearance, was perched on a bar stool facing the students and overlooking the table.

Tess lounged in her seat at the table at the front of the room, notebook open on the table in front of her and pen moving deftly across the page. She watched her competition critically as he spoke. His argument was solid enough to cast reasonable doubt on her case, or it would have been had he bothered to address a small piece of evidence she found to be damning. He finished his conclusion to a spatter of applause and returned to his seat across from her. 

“Well done, Mr. Wynn. Miss Kinney, would you like a few moments to prepare your rebuttal?” the professor asked.

“No, I’m good,” Tess replied. She sat up, scribbled a note in her book, and then pushed the book across the table.

Oh, Ophelia

Alexis lounged in the shade next to the pool, sipping a daiquiri and considering her next move. She’d been using the same identity for nearly fifteen years and the neighbours were starting to get suspicious. With all the new beauty products and surgeries available to people of her wealth it was easier to convince people she was nearing forty when she was in the body of a twenty-three year old, but now she had to deal with people asking for her skincare routines and her doctors and the identity wasn’t worth all of the research she was having to do. She was getting sick of Malibu anyways, what with the yearly forest fires that got closer each year. She missed the deep-rooted history of Europe, the memories she had in all of the major cities, the people like her who were still living in their castles and manors pretending like the world hadn’t left them behind.

Bloodlines

Ten of Wands. The Tower. Two of Swords.

Morrigan Keeling sat on the floor of her bedroom, chewing the end of a pen and staring intently at the tarot cards spread in front of her. It was a simple three card spread to indicate how her day was going to go: a card to describe herself, one to indicate what was going to greet her, and another to show the outcome of the situation. She’d gotten into the habit of doing it every day while living at home, and even five years after moving out she found it a relaxing routine to start the day.

The day’s cards, however, were not very relaxing.

PerDeA

The backseat of the car was dark, only illuminated for short intervals by the orange glow of the streetlights. Two figures sat across from each other in the shifting light. In the backwards-facing seat on the driver’s side was PerDeA. Her dark hair was pulled tightly into a ponytail, lips slightly parted as she stared unblinking out the back window. Shoulders square, back straight, chin up, hands folded neatly in her lap, her breathing perfectly rhythmic; she would have looked human if not for the faintly glowing cybernetic blue rings superimposed over her black eyes.

Westhaven

Her eyes were open but she couldn’t see anything. There were mechanical sounds ‒ beeping, whirring ‒ all around her, and voices too far away for her to understand. The sharp smell of antiseptic and the softer detergent scent beneath it.

“Initiate optical system,” a muted female voice instructed. Between one breath and the next she started processing visual information: bright white lights above her, the featureless ceiling beyond, her own nose and eyelashes. She couldn’t move her head to see much else. Walls that matched the ceiling so well it was hard to tell where one became the other, bits of the bed she was on with its bleachable white sheets and side rails.

“Increase tactile responsivity by fifty percent and disengage the motion inhibitors.”

Pro Patria Mori

She sat on the narrow bed with her packed suitcase next to her. Her blonde hair was pinned back, her blue eyes fixed on a spot next to the door, her hands folded neatly in her lap. The winter chill clung like burrs to the house, helped by the heavy spring rain that beat against the window in a staccato rhythm. Outside, trees bowed under the charcoal sky. The old house creaked and groaned around her, the wind whistling and wailing as the storm continued to batter the country estate. She waited.

At any moment there would be a knock on the main door of the house. Godfrey, the aged and shuffling butler, would answer. Standing on the other side would be some men in crisp uniforms, holding up her picture and asking if he knew her. She had seen them in town the evening before, and it wouldn’t take more than a day before someone pointed them in the right direction. They looked like military men but there was something different in their manner, something sharper. Godfrey would lead them up, and up, and up, until they reached her third floor apartment. The butler would introduce them, she would smile politely, and she would leave with them without a fight.

The Clocktower

Astra hated Capperham. The way it sprawled its squalor from border to border, from the sea in the west to the battlements in the other three directions. The harbour reeked of dead fish and unwashed human, the slums of sickness and stale beer. Even the neighbourhoods of rich merchants and factory owners lay under the thick smog of black soot the mines and mills spat out day and night. The grit and dirt was part of everything, so deeply ingrained that even the most rigorous scrubbing couldn’t make something clean.

Stars Incline Us

The Christmas gala was in full swing. The entire ballroom was full of people Pippa didn’t know, all wearing fancy clothes that probably cost more than her rent. Her own dress was aubergine and a simple V-neck, form-fitting enough to be attractive but loose enough to not draw too much attention.

She and another girl who didn’t seem to know anyone at the event were chatting with Antero and Mr. Rabinoff near the edge of the dance floor. Antero was already antsy to leave despite the dinner having just ended, but Mr. Rabinoff had trapped him in a debate he was too proud to back down from. The other girl was from legal and either found them hilarious or had had a little too much to drink because she kept giggling, leaving Pippa no choice but to laugh along while adding the occasional remark to the back and forth between the men.

That brings us all the way back to October 2016. Which tells me that I need to start at the beginning of more stories haha. If anyone has questions about any of these, please feel free to ask. Also, if you read all of that, you are a saint and a hero and have my eternal friendship.

I tag @the-writing-avocado​, @radiowrites​, @pigeon-hold​, @sleepyowlwrites​, @akindofmagictoo​, and anyone else who wants to share their projects!! As always, no pressure (to play or to read this whole post lmao).

[aconstellationofmemories]

Of Nightmares and Promises Chapter 2: Gray

Note: This oneshot in Gray's POV, a follow-up to Juvia's oneshot, unexpectedly took me 7 months to complete. More than half of the draft had already been written; I could have posted it earlier with some addition; but I felt that it lacked something. Or perhaps I was afraid, since I was still a new writer back then. In any case, I'm satisfied that my writing has improved tremendously since.

Dedicated to @allie-and-her-fandoms, who was a major source of motivation to write this continuation. Here's a surprise for you girl. I hope I didn't disappoint you.

Next one in this collection of oneshots will probably be Laxus'. Expect some angsty Miraxus coming up!

Word count: 1.5k.

Read this on AO3.

Chapter 1: Juvia

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

Quiet sobs.

The steady beat of the rain tumbling onto the pavement. 

Soft whimpers.

The sorrowful symphony slowly filtered into Gray’s sleep-fogged brain and roused him from his slumber. What’s happening? Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his puzzled gaze instantly landed on the sparkling droplets of water on the window. They slid down helplessly despite the slight friction between their liquid body and the glass panel, leaving behind only disjointed parts of their body in their slippery descent.

It’s raining, he thought sleepily. There was a nagging familiarity about the natural event, almost as though it was teasing him to guess its hidden meaning. However, at such a godforsaken hour, he had neither the mood nor the mental capacity for such trivia games. If the heavens wished to weep and cause a phenomenon known as rainfall upon earth, then they could weep all they wanted. He wasn’t going to give up his precious sleep to spend the night contemplating the mysteries of the universe. Closing his eyes, he turned to lay on his side as he tried to resume his disrupted sleep.

Then it dawned on him.

It was soft, almost inaudible even, but he was almost certain his ears weren’t playing with him – there was a muffled sound of someone crying.

Wait. Rain...

Juvia.

The realisation jolted him awake – any trace of sleepiness now completely gone – and he hurriedly glanced over to the other side of the bed. In a subconscious gesture to either comfort or protect herself, the water mage lied curled on her side in a fetal position. Her face twisted in anguish. “Gray-sama...” his name fell upon her lips in between her strained sobs.

He gently nudged her. “Oi, Juvia.” No use – she showed no signs of waking.

“Juvia tried but she failed,” she whispered, pain lacing each word.

His heart constricted in his chest to see her in this broken state. She was the one experiencing the nightmare, but it hurt him to witness it.

“Wake up and it’ll be fine,” he urged her.

“Juvia is so sorry...”

What was she dreaming to feel sorry for? 

Gray pushed aside the stray locks from her forehead – her skin was wet. It was that moment that he noticed she was sweating profusely. Whatever she was dreaming about, it must be intense to invoke such strong reactions from her. Tears silently rolled down her porcelain cheeks. Despite his attempts to pull her from her nightmare, she was lost to him in a torturous realm – one he was all too familiar with.

“Wake up, Juvia,” he pleaded her. It was killing him slowly to see her tormented and being powerless to do a thing. 

The ice mage prided himself in having a cold, impenetrable heart. Much like his ice creations, it was solid and incredibly resistant to outside influences. Her cries, however, felt as though someone placed a nail on his heart and pounded mercilessly to create fractures. With each broken call for him, the fractures cracked open.

Just like how Juvia once told him that he kept the rain away, he yearned to prevent her liquid sadness from flowing down her face – now and for as long as he can.

Before he knew what he was doing, he leaned in and placed his lips on her tear-stained cheeks. 

Drip.

A tear escaped from the corner of her eye and trailed down.

“Gray-sama.”

Kiss.

His lips caught the elusive tear before it could drop.

“Shh. It’s okay.”

Drip.

No matter how many times she fell apart, he would always be there to catch her.

Kiss.

Down to the last teardrop, he erased their existence with each gentle kiss.

Pulling back, his concerned gaze scanned her face for any signs of distress. To his relief, her features seemed to relax. The iron vise around his heart loosened its grip. His chest immediately felt lighter. 

For the first time since he woke up, he could take a breath without feeling strangled.

Lying back down on the bed, he angled his head to watch her. The warm glow of the streetlamps cast a soft spotlight upon her, highlighting her angelic features. Her sapphire tresses was splayed out on the pillow underneath her head. They reminded him of a curved wave frozen in time. He gently pushed back the stray locks on her forehead. She was ethereally beautiful. His heart squeezed in his chest as he took in the sleeping beauty before him. As someone who only experienced heartache all his life, the ice mage didn’t think he was worthy of someone so beautiful and pure.

All I do is scar her.

His gaze dipped down to her abdomen – to where she sacrificed her life for him. The evidence of her suicide was well covered by her nightgown, but he could picture it all too clearly in his mind. Jagged lines winded up and down to narrow peaks, its almost-circular trek engraved forever on the right side of her navel. 

Gray wasn’t ashamed by scars, nor did he feel the slightest disgust towards them. His own body exhibited the permanent mark of several scars from years of battling as a mage. None of them bothered him; whether they were large or small; wide or narrow; he only demanded that they were visible to the world. 

But Juvia...it didn’t sit right with him for her to have them. Not that he thought they marred her beauty – hell, she was pretty no matter what. It was the history behind the engraved remnants of her sacrifice which troubled him. 

If only I was stronger then...Juvia wouldn’t have had to kill herself.

It was my duty to protect her, to keep her safe. 

He clenched his fist as an avalanche of failure crashed over him.

And I failed in both for Juvia.

For his entire life, all the people dearest to him had been snatched away. It didn’t matter how strong they were; one by one, they ceased to exist on the physical plane on earth. Though the abrupt conclusion to their story played out in different scenarios, they all shared a crucial common factor – their untimely deaths were all because of him.

Involuntarily, the final memories of his loved ones came flooding back – the disbelief, the immense despair, and the hopelessness – they all hit him like a train wreck.

His father, previously the strongest man in his eyes, now lying immobile in the destruction left by Deliora.

Ur’s motherly smile when she bid farewell to him as ice engulfed her mortal body.

Her daughter, Ultear, trading her priceless youth for him to be granted a second chance at life.

Juvia’s lifeless body, cold and unmoving in his arms.

The tsunami of his painful past threatened to wreck him and drown him under in their onslaught. His tensed muscles began to tremble from the effort of controlling the turbulent emotions which the flashbacks had evoked.

You killed them, a voice hissed inside his head.

He squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to block them out – the memories, the self-defeating voices, the fears – all of them. I’m not there. I’m not there anymore.

When he opened his eyes, his gaze landed on the soundly asleep form of Juvia. Her lips were slightly parted as she breathed in and out slowly. The nightmares had stopped tormenting her. Seeing her resting peacefully – and breathing – calmed his frayed nerves considerably. His ragged breaths began to slow.

She’s still alive. Here, with me.

The ice mage carefully wrapped his arms around her as he pulled her in close for an embrace. Instantly, she instinctively leaned into his warmth and pressed her face into his naked chest. With that simple trusting gesture, her own warmth spread deeper into his chest to envelope his heart.

For hours, he was content to simply hold her in his arms as she slept. She even snored lightly at one point; this he would never tell her. He couldn’t complain, not when the greatest thing to had ever happened to him was lying in his bed.

He didn’t sleep a wink that night.

Not from her snores, but from the thoughts that raced through his mind and the plans he dared to envision – all of which involved a particular sapphire-haired woman. His dreams splashed every inch of his greyscale mental landscape with bright, invigorating colours of spring. Like the plants which grow from the emergence of the sun after the rain, the seeds of his wishes quickly sprouted to form endless possibilities together with her.

In the near future, they wouldn’t just be mere visions his mind conjured up. No – he would make them materialise into the real world.

When dawn arrived with its hopeful transformation from darkness to light, the ice mage was set with his conviction.

I don’t deserve you, but I will become a man worthy of you, Juvia.

Placing a chaste kiss on her forehead, he sealed his unspoken promise to her.

I’ll keep you safe.

[duhragonball]

Hellsing Liveblog Ch. 2-3

Chapter 2 is a flashback to the origin of Sir Integra Hellsing.   As established in Chapter 1, the Hellsing Organization is a secret anti-Halloween-monster task force.   From what I’ve been able to tell, they have a small army of guys and they all live and train in a big mansion, and the Hellsing family runs the whole show.   It’s sort of like the X-Men except they actually do cool shit and you only have to keep track of four or five characters.   

It’s implied throughout this manga that the Hellsing Family is descended from Abraham Van Helsing, the vampire hunter seen in Bram Stoker’s novel, Dracula.    Shoot, I just remembered I wanted to read the novel so I’d know what this manga was referencing, but it’s too late, I’ll just have to do that later.   I’ve been meaning to read the Great Gatsby for several years, too, and I just never get around to it.   

On the other hand, Integra claimed that her family had been at this since “ancient times”, suggesting that they predate the events of the Dracula novel.  If Abraham Van Helsing was part of their line, then he may have only been carrying on a tradition instead of founding a new one.   I think the conceit of Hellsing is that it regards the Dracula novel as part of its canon.   That is, in this fictional world, the events in the novel really happened, more or less.    I don’t know if that means the novel exists in this world or not.

Whatever the case, it was Arthur Hellsing running the organization up until 1989, when he suddenly took ill.   On his deathbed, he named his daughter as his successor, and asked his brother Richard to help her run things, since Integra was like, twelve, at the time.

Instead, Richard waited three days and staged a coup, forcing Li’l Integra to hide in the ventilation ducts.   He has to act quickly, and kill her before the whole staff finds out what he’s up to, but if he can kill her, he’ll assume control and be set for life.    I’m not really sure what Richard wants out of this.    Maybe he just really wants to run the family business, or maybe he wants to shut the whole thing down and just be a wealthy nobleman without all the monsters.   Anyway, the search for Integra leads to the “underground sector”, which hasn’t been used in over twenty years, so I guess 1969 is about when it was shut down?    It houses a dark arts lab, a library, speciment room, torture chamber, dissecting room, and a dungeon.   That last one tips Richard off, because before he died, Arthur told her that she could find something that would protect her.  

But all she finds inside is a corpse, and then Richard and his goons show up shortly after.   He plans to kill her slowly to punish her for wasting his time, but when he shoots he in the arm, some of the blood splashes on the corpse, and then it comes to life.

Just like Frosty the Snowman, only horrifying.   Richard tries to kill it, which seems pretty stupid, considering how they thought it was dead a minute ago.   That goes about as well as you’d expect, and after slaughtering the goons and taking Richard’s arm, the corpse kneels before Integra and addresses her as “Master.”

Richard apparently knew nothing of this, but the corpse seems to recognize him, at least as far as a Hellsing who’s not fit to head the family.  As Integra shoots Richard dead, the corpse introduces himself as Alucard, the name her family has always called him.  

One thing I find interesting here is that I could have sworn the Hellsing Ultimate anime established that Richard had poisoned Arthur, presumably thinking he would have a clear shot at the inheritance.   But it’s never mentioned here.   Maybe this was something they added in, because honestly, it just makes too much sense.  The implication of this flashback is that there are certain secrets in the Hellsing Family that only got passed down from parent to child.    Arthur and Richard’s father must have known about Alucard, and Arthur was likely the one who sealed him up in the basement in the first place, but neither of them said a word about him to Richard.   Maybe if they had, Richard might have thought twice before trying to take over.   Like the Cheddar Priest, he thought he had it all figured out, but he didn’t know what he didn’t know.

Back in the present day, Alucard is on the shooting range with Seras, teaching her how to shoot.   Seras already knows how to fire a gun, but Al wants her to hit targets at greater distances, using The Force a vampiric “third eye.”   He demonstrates by shooting a target one kilometer away, and hitting it perfectly.   For some reason, Integra is reading the paper nearby, and reminiscing about the her first meeting with Alucard ten years ago.   For some reason, she takes umbrage with the idea that she’s not still a “little girl” like she was back then.   Seras even ribs her a bit, which ticks Integra off.   Of course, Seras wouldn’t think Integra’s a “little girl”.   Integra’s a few years older than she is.  

The main point of all of this is that it establishes why Alucard works for Integra, and what they did with Seras after Alucard turned her into a vampire.   One way or another, Seras is just drafted to fight the Vampire Wars, or whatever they call it.   I find this kind of unsatisfying, because the anime didn’t expand on it either.   Seras just wakes up in the mansion, and Integra tosses her a uniform and says “Get dressed, kid, your shift starts in twenty minutes.”

I think Seras wants to work for the Hellsing Organization, partly because she has nowhere else to go, and partly because she admires Alucard and wants to join his cause.    But it’s never established that Seras has a choice in the matter.  It’s implied that Alucard is magically bound to the Hellsing family.    Integra called him “the research” that her “father and the others were doing.”  Like, you can’t just have a vampire work for you, you have to do stuff to him to make him obey.   I don’t think they’re mind-controlling Al per se.  He seems fully aware of what his role is, and he’s totally comfortable in it.   But he’s not just doing this voluntarily, either.    Integra has some sort of power over him, and my assumption is that Seras inherited that same quality when Alucard turned her.   So now she’s bound to Integra’s orders in the same way.  

But there’s a lot of unanswered questions in this.    I would think Alucard would be expressly forbidden from making his own ghouls or vampire broods.   Yet he drank Seras’ blood without any problems.  Maybe he’s allowed to do it if he has permission?    That might be it.    But then he brings her back to Integra, and I assume she has to make the decision to either keep Seras or destroy her.   I mean, Seras is handy to have on the team, sure, but if this was a good idea, why didn’t they have Alucard do this before?   I guess the situation just never came up.  

I think a lot about what might have happened if the Cheddar Priest had turned her into a vampire.    Would she have become loyal to him?  He said she would have free will, but she’s pretty deferential to Alucard, so what’s that about?   And if she had become a vampire and turned against the Priest, would Al have allowed her to live?   He was on a mission to destroy vampires, so I would think he would have shot first and asked questions later.    Well, let’s move on.

Chapter 3 jumps ahead to August 12, so Seras has been with the team for a little over a month now.   A bunch of murders have taken place in Birmingham (England, not Alabama), and this time no one waits around to call in Hellsing, though they are still surprised to find out she’s a woman.     

This time, the culprit is on the move, and Integra deduces that they’re choosing specific households full of “devout Christians” and spacious walls to write “blasphemous anti-Christian messages.”   Since they’re moving along Route 17, Integra has a rough idea of where they’ll strike next.  

I don’t know what the point of the “blasphemous messages” or seemingly ritual killings is supposed to be, since the killers are just this young vampire couple who only seem to be interested in this for immortality and power.   Their goal seems to be to kill thirteen families, and “they’ll” see to it that they get stronger.   I don’t know if this means some other party has put them up to this, or maybe they mean “they” as in all the families they’re killing.   It’s like this is an initiation ritual or something, except we’ve already seen Seras become a vampire, and she didn’t have to do anything like this to seal the deal. 

Then again, maybe the point of this chapter is to demonstrate that vampires take a while to get all their powers.  When Alucard confronts them, he scolds them, not for their string of murders, but for their lack of conviction, and their inability to transform or fight without guns.     So maybe this couple was trying to jumpstart the process by feeding on several dozen people in a short span of time.    But Al seems to think that isn’t how it works.    I don’t fully understand his moral code, but he doesn’t seem to object to vampires on principle.   Being a vampire is fine with him, so long as you have a purpose to it.   If you’re only in it for immortality and power, with no other reason, then he doesn’t respect you.   Seras wanted to live, but not necessarily forever, and I think she wanted power, but only enough to fight against evil.   That’s what sets her apart in Alucard’s eyes. 

So he kills the boy, but the girl escapes out the window, but Alucard already had that move scouted.

I’m not sure who’s saying “No!” here.   Maybe the girl vampire running down the road.   Anyway, Alucard put Seras on the roof of the house before he went inside, just in case anyone tried to make a break for it.   So all she has to do is shoot down the runner before she’s out of range.  Except she’s 600 meters away, it’s night time, and Seras doesn’t have a scope for her gun.   But Al reminds her to use her “third eye” and it works.  

After it’s over, Seras realizes that she didn’t even feel the recoil of the gun, and she can see in the dark with no trouble at all.   She wonders what’s happening to her, but that seems like a dumb question to ask one month after turning into a vampire.    I’m guessing the first few weeks of it didn’t feel all that different to her, and she probably knew she’d get stronger and better at shooting guns, but now that it’s actually happening it feels a lot stranger than she expected it to be.   In the anime, Seras also points out that she can hear Alucard talking to her in her mind, which is also weird, but I guess she’s got plenty of other weird stuff to process now.

Back at the base, Integra considers the recent increase in vampire attacks.   They’re all jobbers, like this couple Al and Seras killed, and none of them have any particular agenda, except to kill people.    She begins to wonder if someone’s making all these vampires just to cause trouble.  Hmmm...

So, I don’t want to get too far ahead of myself here, but this foreshadows Milennium quite nicely, but are we saying Milennium made vampires out of that boy and girl?   Were they behind the Cheddar Priest as well?  Also, “two” doesn’t seem like a huge increase in vampire incidents, so I guess there have been some other vampires running around between Chapters 1 and 3.   Oh well.