#//izzy incapable of not being a little shit

[anderwhohn]

@blitzbefallen asked: "I'm so tired of feeling like I'm constantly disappointing everyone around me." — from Astrid to Izzy

There's a slight smirk playing at Isabela's lips when she leans in to dramatically and deliberately poke Astrid sharply in the shoulder.

"You feel human to me," she quips with a wink before casting a look around to make sure no one's paying them too much attention. "But hey, you know you're not disappointing Hannah, or Anderson, or me, yeah? And I'd bet no one on this crew is disappointed in you. So, who else matters?"

"And if you say Udina, then I'll be disappointed in you. And I might have to disown you. Sorry, fam, but that's just too much for even me to handle."

#blitzbefallen #dreams of elsewhere ( ic ) #engineering death ( isabela shepard ) #altverse || the kids with the big big plans ( relatives | shepard ) #altverse au || they found hope in the stars ( spacer / relatives | shepard ) #astrid shepard || blitzbefallen ( shepard ) #there was a point to this story ( answered ) #//izzy incapable of not being a little shit #//even when trying to comfort her cousin

[batsarebetterthanpeople]

Hi! I’m sorry if this is dumb but I’m not understanding why the Ed hate is racist? From what I’ve seen it has nothing to do with his race, just his actions? What is racist about it? I’m asking this very genuinely because I want to understand and learn more from this so please don’t take this as being annoying or patronizing or something!

ok so not all Ed hate falls under the racism catagory some people just have genuinely bad taste. The thing that is racist is insisting that he's an abuser. I've explained several times why he's not abusive, as have many many others. But, here's the quick recap: Izzy was abusing him, Ed has a history of lashing out towards his abusers with physical violence and Izzy established that he had been doing this sort of thing to Ed for years so you know, he's going the way of Ed's father and nobody would argue that Ed was abusing his father. Ed wasn't abusive towards the crew. Like he did some shitty things while suicidal. He hurt his friends I'm not saying he didn't. However: 1. This show is full of very very over the top violence and no one is getting up Button's ass about Lucius's finger. 2. It would be an incredibly strange move for a rom com to make one of it's leads a domestic abuser, It's not such a weird move to give a character in a rom com a suicidal arc where they push all their friends away. The first choice would yeild a completely unwatchable show the second is what happened in ofmd. 3. David Jenkins himself has talked about this and he said "What Blackbeard did was by the standards of the pirate world a bit much" I don't know if I even agree with this considering everything we've heard about Hornigold but I certainly agree with the sentiment that Ed did some shitty things but nothing that was significantly more horrific than other characters in the show who nobody treats the way they treat Ed.

So with all of that in mind: Why is it racist to call him an abuser. Like sure, all of this adds up to the abuse truthers being wrong and stupid but what does it have to do with Ed's skin color? This ties into the history that the Maori people share with a lot of indigenous groups who were colonized by europeans. I would encourage you to do more research on your own but I'll point you in the generally right direction. Indigenous men are portrayed as hyper violent in order to justify their subjugation (see head hunters stereotypes or how often people assume indigenous cultures were doing human sacrifice). A lot of the Ed hate exaggerates how violent he is in comparison to other characters. Indigenous men are portrayed as dirty and barbaric and in need of being civilized by a benevolent white savior. A lot of fic and meta positions either Stede or Izzy as needing to save Ed from himself, or as needing to babysit him or teach him to read or bathe, ect. That's why people are so up in arms about the soap eating joke.

And finally the abuse thing. Positioning indigenous men as abusers has been used historically as a shoddy justification for family separation. This stereotype pairs incredibly well with the violent stereotype. So IF Ed was abusing poor defenseless little white Izzy it would actually be a racist decision for the writers to make. Like there's a way to portray characters of color doing abuse, because being nonwhite doesn't make you incapable of doing shitty things, but that would not be it. Thankfully that is catagorically not what's happening, we've been told that the Kraken is an abuse responce, Izzy provokes the Kraken, we've seen Izzy be paralelled with Ed's two other abusers (Hornigold and Ed's dad), we've been shown Izzy controlling the flow of information between Ed and his crew, we've been showing Izzy manipulating Ed, we've been shown him lying to turn the crew against Ed, we've been shown Izzy attempting to murder someone Ed cares about specifically because Ed cares about them, we've seen Izzy threaten Ed's life for acting wrong, we've heard Izzy confess to doing all of that shit FOR YEARS on his death bed (a time which it would completely undercut the emotional impact of the scene if he was lying). So like... people ignoring all of that shit in order to portray Ed as shooting off his leg for no fucking reason and say he's the abuser is very... "You forgot the racism don't worry we'll add it back in for you" and continuing to insist on that and be shitty to people who won't cop to your dumbass shit is actively making the fandom a more racist space.

#ofmd meta #fandom racism

[miahasahardname]

Wait Raj too? Ripper and Raj brothers?? 👀

yeah!! i wrote a bunch of stuff for a nowen family au during ict

sorry if it’s incomprehensible. ya girl-type-creature is incapable of forming coherent sentences

the original total drama took place in 1997 instead of 2007 to make noah and owen’s ages as parents make sense

raj is older than ripper, which is surprising for people. ripper and raj are also twins, which is even more surprising for people!

raj and ripper’s full names are ‘rajesh könig-fraser’ and ‘rhynnfrew könig-fraser’

i headcanon ripper to be welsh, so for that to still be true in the au, owen is of welsh decendance. this means that raj and ripper are part german, part indian, part canadian and part welsh! it’s a very rich cultural background.

raj and ripper regularly speak german or hindi in the house which confuses owen/makes him feel left out since he can only speak english

noah tries to comfort him by saying that learning a language when you’re not born speaking it can be hard, and that owen can speak a bit of welsh while noah can’t. this half-works

noah tried to prevent the boys from discovering what total drama was because they are embarrassed about their past. unfortunately, wayne got in the way of this (big total drama fan - is the reason the brothers auditioned)

owen has a part time job at an ice-cream parlour, and noah teaches languages and psychology at raj and ripper’s highschool.

raj and ripper are Little Dipshits ™️ and decided to take german as their language in school for an easy A, but ended up with noah as their teacher and, as the loving mother they are, they started the school year by calling the two out in front of their entire class.

wayne is the family’s neighbour. he became raj’s best friend immediately, and would constantly be invited over for playdates. ripper became his friend by association.

noah needs glasses for reading. when ripper is mad at them, he will hide those glasses and scatter clues around the house with writing purposefully made tiny and messy to make things harder.

owen sparked raj’s love for hockey. he regularly takes him to see games and picks him up after practice (his shift ends at around the same time raj’s training sessions end)

the family is visited by owen’s parents and brothers very often. they’re always there to come to babysit the boys. noah’s family (the ones in other continents and who live in canada) live far away. they go to their closest family during shorter school holidays, extended family in germany for christmas, and extended family in india in the summer. (they still get to see noah’s closest family there since they all go to those places when noah does anyways)

sometimes, eva and izzy just. randomly break into the home without any warning. this always frightens noah and owen, but ripper and raj are always excited to see them. ripper loves izzy because of her unpredictable nature and the fact she allows him to do stupid and dangerous stuff, and raj loves eva because she’s super sporty and a very worth competitor. they also give awesome birthday gifts.

total drama episodes air the week after they’re filmed. not necessarily for the au, just a headcanon of mine.

owen and noah flipped their shit when ripper and axel kissed.

raj and ripper love to engage in eachother’s shenanigans, but they also love to scrap, insult and pretend they don’t know eachother. they are eachother’s number one supporters and number one haters.

april fool’s day gets very dangerous in the könig-fraser household………

raj and ripper have always shared a room. ripper is absolutely pissed that he’s not allowed to sleep on the top bunk.

noah and owen are really used to being called into school (or the hospital) because of their sons. neither of them know how to do anything without getting in some sort of trouble.

#i will never send screenshots of what i write in google docs. too afraid of being bullied for using comic sans #btw guys please will you hear me out on indian/german noah. please #td noah #to owen #td ripper #td raj #nowen #total drama #td #mia try not to write pages upon pages of total drama headcanons/aus during computing/ict challenge (impossible) #kinda proud of the autism beth headcanons i made up. not sharing those rn though #ask answered!

[tizzyizzy]

Ed, Izzy, & Friendship

Sometimes I’ll see a take on here about how Izzy is abusive, or a toxic friend. While there are some threads of that through their dynamic, I think this reading is problematic in a couple of major ways.

While Ed and Izzy are friends with a personal connection between them they are also, first and foremost, Captain and First Mate. This has massive implications for their dynamic.

The First Mate Obeys the Captain

There is no hierarchy in a friendship. You’re not obligated to obey your friend. Izzy, however, absolutely is obligated to obey Ed. We regularly see Izzy doing things he’s uncomfortable on Ed’s orders. While Izzy may get more leeway due to their longstanding personal relationship, the scene of forced auto-cannibalism and maiming is proof that Izzy’s supposed freedom to act on his own without Ed’s consent is an illusion. When push comes to shove, Ed can and will force Izzy into line.

A Captain’s Choices Determine Their First Mate’s Lifestyle

While friends can occasionally help or harm one another when it comes to lending money or a roommate situation, most people don’t rely on their friends to keep food in their mouths or a roof over their head.

But the captain doesn’t order enough raids, the first mate doesn’t get paid. If the captain fails to dock and load up on supplies, the first mate gets half-rations and scurvy. If the captain misjudges a ships arsenal, the first mate risks having his leg blown off by a cannonball. If the captain decides to hang out on a boat with a bunch of incompetent sailors and an aristocrat, the first mate has to come with them and endure all the inconvenience and risk that entails.

Izzy doesn’t end up on the Revenge because he wants to hang out with Stede and his crew. He’s stuck there because he’s Ed’s first mate. Izzy didn’t want to antagonize the Spanish and end up risking getting blown to pieces by a Spanish warship; Ed got him there. Izzy didn’t deal with the very real danger and inconvenience of Stede’s crew observing in the middle of the raid because he was comfortable with a bunch of unskilled baby pirates in the middle of things

All of Ed’s choices, from attacking the Spanish to hanging out with Stede, aren’t just personal ones. They’re choices that got men killed and forced certain responsibilities and situations onto his first mate.

When Izzy gets upset about Ed dallying with Stede, it’s not just personal jealousy. It’s practical concern about the behavior of his erratic captain and its potential effects on him and the rest of the crew.

A Captain Holds the Power of Life and Death over the First Mate

If a friend wants to kill me, they have to do it the old fashioned way. They’ll have to do all the planning, maiming, and body disposal themselves. If they can’t, they’ll have to pay for someone to help.

They cannot order me flogged, or keelhauled, or tied to an anchor and drowned. They cannot sneak into my room, cut off my toe, and force me to eat it with the expectation I will be too afraid to retaliate.

This last thing? It’s the biggest reason I can’t take meta about Izzy being a big bad abuser to poor Ed seriously.

We have seen Ed order a man flayed and drowned. We know Ed has spent years as a pirate, earning the fear and respect not only of his crew but worldwide. That doesn’t happen if you’re afraid to get deadly. We have literally witnessed Ed, on screen, torturing Izzy to assert control over him.

To suggest that he is under the thumb of his first mate, a man so pathetic he’s congenitally incapable of intimidating anyone, is absurd. And we can’t say it is some kind of manipulative emotional control either, because Ed  doesn’t give a shit about what Izzy thinks 98% of the time. How can you watch episode 4, where Ed barely reacts to Izzy’s resignation and manipulates him into staying with a few well-chosen words, and think, “Oh yeah, clearly Blackbeard is in the hypnotic thrawl of this angry little dude”?

Ed takes Izzy seriously one time in the show: when Izzy says Ed is no longer Blackbeard, and that he only serves Blackbeard (not Ed). And less than 24 hours later Izzy is bleeding out on the sheets, being force-fed his own toe.

#edward teach meta #izzy hands meta #ofmd meta #edward teach #izzy hands #ofmd

[magniloquent-raven]

so...i've seen a few izzy meta posts that have made points like "izzy isn't homophobic he's [insert accurate observation about his character here]" and. yall are making doing excellent analysis but like, he can be those things in addition to being a homophobe. like, yeah, he's massively jealous of stede, and he's kind of a dickhead to everyone regardless of queerness, and he's a shitty little gatekeeper trying to make everyone conform to his standards to masculinity/idea of what a "real pirate" should be.

and he also, on multiple occasions, uses derogatory language to shame effeminate men. and he specifically targets lucius (the most flamboyantly queer character in the show) for "slacking off" but basically ignores black pete and doesn't even look at wee john, who was literally taking a nap two feet away.

like. idk ive seen people argue that he doesn't rag on ppl for being queer, just effeminate, and therefore it's toxic masculinity and not homophobia, and i don't think it's really fair to try and make a distinction there. toxic masculinity is so deeply, deeply steeped in homophobia, and him being queer absolutely does not mean he's incapable of perpetuating that.

because the gender of your sexual partners is not the be all end all of queerness. and by extension, homophobia isn't just when someone has a problem with two men having sex. just look at respectability politics. this shit happens within the community. people being shunned for being too visibly queer. not passing well enough. not wanting to move to the suburbs with two point five kids and one spouse. like, yeah, a lot of the time gatekeeping within the community is about not being "gay enough" but there's the other side of the coin too. (yall should read this post, it makes some Points)

being queer and limiting the ways you allow yourself to express it due to an internal sense of shame and/or self-loathing is a thing because of homophobia. imposing those limits on other people because you can't stand the idea of them being happy with themselves when you aren't is perpetuating homophobia.

idk man i just think it's important to recognize that this shit is complicated. and i felt the need to point out that izzy doing/saying homophobic shit is literally canon 😅

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd izzy #izzy hands #he's terrible your honour #a nasty little man #i want to turn him into a blanket burrito and watch him squirm like a misbehaving cat

[deadthingposting]

OFMD rewatch ep 3- the gentleman pirate

Yay my boy finally appears

It's weird how now I just notice how many jokes about Lucius dying there are in the show, in a complete different note Frenchies little doodles are lovely

God stede gives me so much second hand embarrassment, this is the point on the show I stopped hating him and start having a weird pity of him, god bless this pathetic little man he is incapable of reading a room, like in the party ship episode we see how Ed is not great with the upper class but stede is so much worse with the pirates he is a walking kick me sign.

I am so against the propaganda of Jim being one of the "braincells" in the crew like this little shit has nothing inside their head, just maybe vengeance, and they act like a cat it's adorable

Jackie is the only girlboss allowed, no bullshit she is the one she collects a harem, collects human body parts, dresses in red, looks fucking good in red, comes up with a nickname mocking stede stupid pirate name on the spot, I want to sit on her lap, help.

And another point for Izzy digging his own grave I just love that if Izzy wasn't such a arrogant dick half of his problems wouldn't have happened, like he had no reason to lie to stede about who was his captain but he did and just made Ed more interested, congratulations Mr hands it's you Hi! You are the problem.

(by the way there's one moment when he is talking to Ed that makes me so angry, this wannabe edgylord holds his hand over a lit candle, this is so stupid I swear to god he was about to say something you would find over a black and white picture of the joker)

By the way Lucius getting Jim's knife it's such a sweet moment but oluwande getting all jealous it's so cute.

As much as this episode gives me deathly levels of cringe the end just takes my whole heart

I am a sucker for first meetings and I hate how in this fandom we have a thousand AUs but not many fics on what stede was thinking when he saw Ed for the first time and vice versa like this scene I want to inject it on my veins

The world is burning stede knows it's the end he is going to die his last though, the family he left, his wife he never loved but had a sense of responsibility for,how much of a walking failure he was now he was going to die and kill his friends, not really friends more like the people he was paying to laugh at his jester act, and from flames and smoke comes a fucking handsome man and looks at him not with disgust or pity or arrogance but interest and says he knows him he recognizes him not as stede the failure bonnet but as the gentleman pirate. His persona. His pirate name.

And I am screaming

Rating:🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪 five random knifes including Jim knife and all the ones used on Blackbeard's raid

#our flag means death #ofmd #stede bonnet #jim jimenez #lucius spriggs #spanish jackie #Edward teach #ed teach #izzy hands #our flag means death episode 3 #the gentleman pirate

[stradlingmrstradlin]

So I enjoy writing and I this is the first story that I wrote with the intent of being posted. Constructive criticism is always welcome ♥️

Here's the story

Steven x Duff

Reader x Izzy

(No warnings, maybe swearwords if that counts, also I don't promote underage drinking)

I think I managed to stay gender-neutral

Words: 2794

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

You were on a road trip with the guys, how did you end up here? Oh well, you've known the guys for a few years as you were good friends with Steven since you were kids, but you had a falling out because he moved around quite a lot and your family did too.

When you were 14 your family moved to Seattle and stayed there for 4 years. In those years you met a blond-haired dude whose name was Michael or as you and a few other people called him, Duff. You and Duff met at a corner store when you were 15 and tried to steal a bottle of vodka. Duff was also lurking around the alcohol section, also probably trying to steal some alcoholic beverage.

But he was, according to the store manager, a suspicious punk guy...so he got kicked out before even getting his hands on anything. You felt bad for him so after sliding a bottle in the inside pocket of your denim jacket and throwing a wink and a charming smile towards the cashier you walked out.

So there you were at eighteen having to say goodbye to Duff because your family was moving away... again but now to Ireland. You had a huge argument with your family about always moving and you losing all of your friends because of them so you made a decision, to run away. Ok, I know that's a stupid idea because how the fuck will you survive on your own?

Your family was well off so you decided to take a bit of money with you, they probably wouldn't even notice.

You lived in quite a few places after that, from the back alley of the theater to Duff's place, his family loved you so it was ok. When Duff decided to move to LA to pursue his dream of being in a band you of course followed him.

You moved into a small one-room apartment together, but it was great. Living with Duff is fun. But he always moved stuff on the top shelf to mess with you, and also money was tight. You guys both worked a lot but it was alright.

He joined a few bands and played a few gigs in shitty bars but none of them worked out. You played guitar so you tried but it was the same with you, never being able to keep a band together for more than a month. Also being a girl didn't help, because many bands thought that it'll ruin their image if a girl is in the band.

Eventually, he put an ad in the paper looking for a band and that's how he met the other guys. You were super surprised to see Steven there but also happy to see him. Also, you remembered Slash from meeting him with Steven maybe a couple of times. The only new people were the two boys, who, as you later found out were from Indiana. The one who looked a bit like Johnny Thunders was hot, but you ignored that fact for now.

The first thing you noticed between your two blond friends was a bit of jealousy, at first you thought maybe they liked you and were jealous of each other, but after a while, even before they knew it, you caught onto the real reason. They didn't like you, at least not romantically, they liked each other. But for about four years they didn't act in their feelings...(later on about that)

Eventually, in 1985 they formed Guns N Roses. The guys liked you, and Axl tried to fuck you, but after a big smack on the head and an angry talking to by Duff he quickly forgot that idea.

So now in 1988 here you were sitting in the back of a van, that Izzy was driving because he was the only sober one...today. Tomorrow probably you'll have to drive.

Your pov.

We were in the car for about twenty minutes and everything was calm...for now. Led Zeppelin was coming from the radio and Axl was softly singing along, in the front seat and Izzy was driving. Duff sipping something from a bottle, probably something alcoholic, and slowly falling asleep and leaning on Steven's shoulder. Steve was smiling per usual, but if possible his smile got even bigger when Duff's head landed on his shoulder. But as all good things come to an end, the comfortable silence got broken.

"I have to pee!" Steven suddenly yelled out, causing Duff to lift his head off of Steven's shoulder and look around in confusion. "The fuck is going on?"

Axl just grumbled "Steven is a fucking baby and can't go and use the toilet before road trips...no he has to use them when we are in the middle of a fucking highways"

Slash snorted at Axl's response but didn't say anything as he didn't want to get into this argument, surprising.

Can't the guys stay still for one second?

"Izzy, can you please stop the car at the next rest stop?" I asked, as kindly as possible not wanting to further upset Rosie and listen to him throwing a temper tantrum for the next hour or so, he's annoying sometimes.

Anyways we stopped at the next stop, and Steven almost ran to the restroom. I switched places with Axl because he was tired and wanted to sit in the back, so he could stretch out a bit. Now Axl was sitting next to Slash, and Steven came back jumping in next to Duff. We're on the road again.

"Can I switch the music?" Izzy looked at me with almost puppy dog eyes, well I didn't think that was possible.

"Of course, what do you have in mind?"I replied almost laughing because of the face he was making

"Maybe Hanoi Rocks?" He again looked at me with the same stupid face.

"Fine, just stop making that face because I'll probably die from laughter" At this point, I just straight up burst out laughing and he just threw a cute lil smile my way. I was super proud of myself because I made THE Izzy Stradlin laugh.

A little background on me and Izzy. When we first met I ignored that he was hot because I didn't want to mess anything up for Duff with the band, but in the next two years that feeling grew from "oh, he's hot" to "I want to fuck him". No, we never fucked, but at a party in 87' we had a really hot make-out session which was sadly ended by a drunk Slash passing out on top of me...that was a wild party. There were no awkward feelings between us but we never took it further either. We sometimes cuddled and kissed when we needed human contact but nothing else. I always wanted more, but Izzy...Izzy is a mysterious guy, hard to figure out, the only person who somewhat is able to figure him out is Axl...but you don't go to Axl asking for advice, because Axl's advice is usually bad advice.

..My thoughts were interrupted by the opening cords for Don't You Ever Leave Me, which's one of my favorite songs. Izzy glanced at me and seconds later we were quietly singing because we didn't want to disturb our four friends who were asleep in the back. Axl and Slash were leaning on each other and Axl's face was barely visible because of Slash's hair. Duff was leaning on a window and Steve was cuddled up to him.

As I was looking at my friends when Iz asked me a question "When do you think they'll realize that they like each other because you have to be an idiot to not realize it, I mean Steven always smiles around Duff, and Duff is so cuddly with steven?" Oh boy, the problem was, that our friends were indeed stupid, at least on the topic of love. "I don't know Iz, they are after all a bit ignorant when it comes to love" As I said this I saw something in Izzy's face change, but I couldn't identify it because it was gone pretty soon. After that we didn't talk much, only glancing at each other a few times but it wasn't uncomfortable or anything, we just didn't have anything else to say out loud.

However, my thoughts were really loud... Ignorant with love? That sounds like us, maybe after all Duff and Stevie weren't the only stupid ones.

...It was around 6 pm when we got to our destination, a fairly large cabin up in the hills, between a shit ton of trees. Nice, finally we can rest without reporters, fans, and annoying paparazzi asking about the private life of the guys.

Everyone had their own room as nobody really wanted to share, we specifically looked for a cabin with 6 rooms, we love each other but sharing a room is annoying. In the beginning, when we didn't have much I shared rooms with probably all of the guys.

Axl is an annoying little fucker, he kicked me in his dream a lot of times, my back hurt a lot after. Slash is nice, he let me have my own space on the small bed we slept on and didn't bother me, well he accidentally woke me up when he fell off the bed, but that sucks for him, not me. Steven and Duff both love cuddles, Steven almost suffocated me once but other than that it's nice sleeping next to them. Izzy...He doesn't hug you or cuddle up to you when you're going to sleep but somehow you always wake up tangled together.

After we brought up our luggage to our assigned rooms Slash had the awesome idea to watch a film. Steven wanted to watch something funny but Axl quickly told him to fuck off.

"Axl, that's very rude" Duff quickly came to the help of Steven. "Yeah, well I ain't watching some shitty comedy, that's for pussies" ..Axl is an asshole sometimes

Slash had enough of arguing and just put on a horror movie and told everyone to shut up and watch the movie.

Halfway through, Steven was cuddled up to Duff, hiding in his chest.

Axl laughed every time someone died, and Slash always shushed him.

Outside pov.

As the movie went on Steven was buried under his hair, two blankets, and most importantly to him, in Duff's arms. How can they be so stupid? Not noticing something that's there?

But they weren't the only stupid ones, no there was a black-haired boy, and you. Also stupid... too stupid in love to notice what's there.

After the movie ended you made food for the guys. Duff decided to help, as the others were pretty incapable of cooking or didn't want to help.

Your pov.

"You know y/n you're blind for not noticing how Izzy looks at you." Duff stated bluntly. "Well McKagan then you're pretty blind for not noticing how Steven looks at you"

"What do you mean?" He asked with...hope? His eyes got wider and you could hear his voice shake a bit.

"Duff, are you serious? Steven likes you, he always tries to be close to you, looks at all the groupies you fuck with so much anger in his eyes, I never thought he could be so angry. And don't think I don't see you staring at him all day" I said with a sweet smile on my face.

"I don't get it y/n..he..he likes me?"

"Yes Duff, he does, he really does, so please don't mess this up, promise me you'll talk to him while we're here"

I really hope he'll talk to him because it's probably eating them up from the inside to keep these feelings locked away.

"But! Y/n, you should talk to Izzy too, you have something between the two of you" Duff looked at me with pleading eyes

"Duff, things are complicated, we.... well, we know about each other's feelings but, I don't know, I guess we're just too afraid to fuck it up"

I don't know about his feelings, to be honest, but I'm definitely scared to fuck up because I really like him. For a time I never thought I'd be able to love someone, and I know that's a strong word to use, but when he came along, stuff changed.

By the time we were done cooking the guys were all hungry and basically ran to the kitchen, I was really conflicted inside from our conversation with Duff. Should I mention it to Iz? Probably should. Whatever, I'll think about it later.

Night came around and everyone retreated to their own rooms to sleep, or in my case think.

Outside pov.

Slash and Axl were fast asleep in their rooms, but the others weren't.

Duff was sitting in the kitchen, head in his hands muttering to himself about being a coward and stupid. Steven however noticed someone downstairs and when he saw Duff and what he was muttering to himself he got sad. How could this perfect human being think that he's stupid? He tiptoed behind him and pulled Duff in his arms from behind. Duff was sitting so the back of his head was pressed into stevens chest. At first, Duff was scared but as soon as he smelled the familiar and calming scent of Steven he instantly felt comfortable, like he was at home. Steven turned Duff around and carefully put his fingers under the taller man's chin and leaned down to press a love-filled kiss onto his lips. At this moment both of them understood everything without words. Duff stood up hugging Steven and lifting him up to take him to his room. They didn't do anything else besides cuddling and a lot of kisses, but both of them felt safe and eventually, they fell asleep with Duff on his back pulling Steven close to him, almost on top of him. This is how they'll be found when you walked into Duff's room in the morning to tell him something.

What was that something?

Well after a lot of thinking you got up and went to Izzy's room. It's now or never you though.

Your pov.

My fingers softly collided with the wooden door and a rustling noise inside told me that Izzy heard it. This seemed like a really bad idea all of a sudden. Well, can't do anything about it now.

A soft "Who's there" could be heard from inside the room "Just me, can we talk?" I replied really quietly wondering if he heard me.  "Yeah, come in"

"Iz, look I'm going to tell you something, ok? Please don't interrupt me."

"Alright"

"So you know when we met, I immediately found you extremely hot. Well, those feelings grew a lot since then, and when we kissed at the party, it just, felt so...right? I know you'll probably tell me that you were just drunk all of the times you kissed me, or just felt lonely. But Iz, I like you, a lot." Silence, that's all, he said nothing. Just staring at me with his signature poker face.

"I knew it, sorry for disturbing  you, I'll just go now, forget it please!"

As I turned to walk away he grabbed my arms and pulled me back into a hug that soon turned into a kiss. When I opened my eyes again we were cuddling on his bed. This is where I felt home, felt alright, in his arms.

"I'm sorry for not responding love, it was just shocking to hear that you liked me. I thought you kissed me all those times just to anger Duff or Axl. I guess I just never thought you'd want to be with a junkie " Izzy whispered looking down at his arms sadly

"You thought wrong Iz, I don't give a fuck about what you do, well yes I don't like you doing drugs, but also you can get over that and to me you are perfect" 

"Maybe it's too soon to say, but I love you y/n, I really do."

"I love you too Iz"

Outside pov.

Maybe they weren't so stupid after all, just scared of their feelings. The two blond boys, who understood each other without words. Izzy and you, on the other hand, needed words to understand each other fully.

But what matters is that in the end, everything was alright.

#steven x duff #izzy stradlin #izzy stradlin x reader #izzy stradlin one shot #guns n' roses #axlrose #axl rose #steven adler #duff mckagan #slash gnr

[distant-rose]

To be totally honest ... don't you think that Gambit and Rogue's final union was forced? Being a bit realistic, an on and off relationship (where they have always been) is nothing but toxic, right?

Anon, I don’t know what you’re looking for here by coming into my inbox and shitting on a relationship that I very clearly enjoy and somehow expecting me to agree with you. My opinions on Romy are very clear.

I don’t find Gambit and Rogue’s relationship to be forced at all, and out of all the X-Weddings that have happened over the past couple of years, they make the most sense. I mean, if we want to talk about forced, we can talk about Doug Ramsey and Bei Bloodmoon or Sam Guthrie and Izzy Kane. Those are forced. There’s no development.

Yes, Rogue and Gambit have a long history together (a little under 30 years to be exact) and it’s not always good, but literally, I would like you to point any romantic relationship in Marvel and tell me there aren’t toxic elements. Comics are super ridiculous and dramatic. I mean, look at Jean, Scott, and Emma. That’s just a crazy mess. Peter and MJ? WHERE TO BEGIN. How about getting their marriage erased by Mephisto?  Even, Reed and Sue have very problematic elements. Relationships and characters are left to the mercy of whoever is writing them. And a good majority of writers (who are male) are incapable of writing couples without unhealthy toxic drama.

On-and-off relationships aren’t necessarily always toxic and considering the amount of stress and strain heroes undergo in comics, I find it hardly surprising that they would be off-and-on, as are many couples, as they’re constantly revaluing their lives, their beliefs, and their choices. They’re constantly changing and discovering what their limits are.

However, I think Kelly Thompson did an amazing job reconciling them. She had them acknowledge their issues and work past them. It’s one of my favorite things about that comic. They didn’t gloss over or ignore the rough parts of their history together, but tackled it and allowed them to move on together. And the way they set up their marriage, I find to be in character. It didn’t seem like a “gotcha” subversion moment like a lot of surprises tend to be these days but felt organic and fully in character. I mean, a master thief stealing someone’s wedding venue on impulse? That’s Gambit. He’s an opportunistic romantic at his core. 

So, no, I don’t find them forced at all, but again, they’re left to the mercy of whoever is writing them and with the everchanging writing staff, I won’t be surprised if they’re broken up or made toxic again in the future. I mean, I’m not enjoying Tini Howard’s interpretation of Rogue and Gambit. It’s very clear she doesn’t know or truly understand the characters. However, Kelly Thompson’s Rogue and Gambit, I will die for.

#asks #anon #romy #OTP: home and harbor #rogue #gambit #remy lebeau #anna marie lebeau #I don't know what you were expecting #except for me to go feral #I will go down with this ship

[slashscowboyboots]

Happy Taco Truck: Some Fine Things (Part 3)

Part 1 Part 2

This is the final installment, an early Christmas gift to my sis @awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands​!  Thank you so much for your feedback, it means everything

Tag list: @izzysdenimjacket​ @no-stone-no-bone​ @sexcoffeeandrockandroll​ @awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands​ @smokeandmirrorz​ @sodalitefully​​ @roger-taylors-car​​  @harley-m-rose​ @whisperess33​ @shawolat​ @80snikki​

Warnings: language, Axl is a brat, horny Izz, Slaxl takes a long time to marinate, Izzy is just too romantic

Notes:  this is my first try at slash fiction, so be gentle.  All credits to the songwriters, and the “Jose Cuervo” line is from the movie “DC Cab.” I would give just about everything to hear Izzy sing “Lodi”

“Can I help you?” your coworker asked.

You glanced over at him, tenderness unfurling in your heart.  After Skyler took off with James from “Hetfield & Grohl’s” to work the barbecue circuit, you’d been up shit creek until Steven recommended a guy he knew, and a curly-haired, soft-spoken guy who for some undeterminable reason went by the moniker “Slash” had turned up to work the window.

It was the first time in your life you’d met an individual even shyer than yourself.  Slash was easy-going and smart, and once you got to know him, incredibly funny, but inside his shell was where he was truly comfortable, and with the amount of assholes who demanded the impossible being the brunt of your customers, you wondered if he was going to last.

“Yeah, gimme a chicken taco.”  Speaking of assholes, here was Axl placing his usual order.  He had been really taking advantage of the discount you offered him, turning up several times a day to collect his free meals.  Izzy mentioned he’d been finding antacids stashed in the ice cream truck.

The heat inside the truck forced Slash to pull his gorgeous curls back in a ponytail, and his exposed eyes fell downwards.  “Sure.  I’ll have that right out,” he said in his quiet voice, then closed the hatch.

You dumped chicken on the flattop.  “Slash, hon, we can’t shut the window until we’re closed,” you gently reminded him, moving the seasoned meat around.

“I-I can’t talk to him,” he whispered, his soft eyes full of fear.

“Why not?  I mean, yeah, he can be a jerk sometimes, but-”, and it was at that moment you caught it.  You recognized that same desperate look.  You’d worn it yourself a little while ago, when you had been too shy to chat up Izzy.  How frightened you’d been of embarrassing yourself, only to find out that Izz lit up every time he looked at you, and was now completely incapable of keeping his wandering hands to himself.

“Oh, Slash,” you murmured, handing him the taco.  His hands were shaking too bad to add the crema, so you did it yourself, and he opened the hatch to an irate Axl.

“Here-here you go,” he said, and you hoped you were the only one who heard the waver in his voice.

“The hell’s wrong with you!  You can’t even talk to your customers?!”  Axl’s face was nearly as red as his hair as he screamed at Slash.

Slash’s mouth flew open in hurt, and you stepped up to the window.  “Axl, that was my fault.  I was showing Slash how to add the special sauce.  And that is a closely guarded secret,” you lied.  There were some days you really wanted to punch him in the mouth.  “And you will not speak to my assistant like that ever again.  You understand?”

Axl looked at you, then Slash.  “Hey, man, I’m sorry,” he said, and you nearly tumbled out the window in surprise.  Axl raised hell with everybody and everything, but you’d never heard him apologize before.

“S’okay,” Slash said, barely audible, looking down, and you wanted to put your arms around him and give him a comforting squeeze.

Axl opened his mouth to say something, then stuffed his taco in it and walked away.

“Why he took a job in customer service is beyond me,” you muttered, then patted Slash on the back.  “I’ve never heard him tell anyone he was sorry.  You must be special,” and Slash’s face lit up as he smiled.

And you knew you had a problem on your hands.

“Yoo hoo?  Where’s my beloved?  I got a bottle of Jose Cuervo and I brought my lucky rubber,” Izzy announced, climbing aboard your truck.

“I’m out here, Izz,” you called, slamming the lid down on the trash can.

He walked into your view and let out a loud whistle.  “Have I told you you get more beautiful every day?” he asked, pulling you to him for a kiss.

“Mmmm, hi, handsome,” you said against his mouth.  “You’re just the person I wanted to see.”

“And you’re just the person I wanted to see naked.”

“Izz!” you scolded.  “I actually need your help with something.”

“I can help you do that.  Over and over again.”

You playfully swatted him.  “It’s about Slash.” Izzy’s face grew serious.  “He didn’t quit, did he?  I mean, I can fill in for him again, but I’d need to lay down for like a week afterward.”

You shook your head.  “No, he didn’t quit.”  That week Izzy subbed at the Happy Taco window had left him scarred for life.  “He, uh, he has a crush.”

Izzy furrowed his eyebrows.

“On Axl.”

He blinked.  “And?”

“And I thought maybe you could help me play matchmaker.”

Izzy turned and pounded his head against the side of the truck.

“Honey,” you pleaded, “please.  He’s so shy I don’t think he has any idea how to approach him.”

“Babe, even if I wanted to do this, and I don’t, Axl has been acting so fucking weird lately there’s no way I could talk to him.”

“Weird?  What’s he doing?”

“Well, he comes over here for tacos all the time now, then when comes back, he plays all of his Elton John tapes at full blast.  Then he cleans the truck from top to bottom.  He’s even nice to the customers now.”

“But he came over here and yelled at Slash!”

His eyes met yours.  “What did Slash do to him?”

“He didn’t talk to him.”

Izzy was quiet for a moment.  “Y/N, I don’t think he’s coming over here for just tacos, although they are excellent.”

“See, they need our help.”

Izzy closed his eyes and beat his head against the truck again.  

“They just need a little nudge in the right direction.”

He wearily looked at you, and you put your hand on his cheek.  “Fine,” he rasped.  “Whatever.  But right now, I need to go in the right direction, and that direction is horizontal with you on top of me.”

“Slash, are you busy tonight?”

You honestly had no idea what Slash did on his nights off.  As soon as you closed the truck, he exchanged pleasantries with Izzy and hopped on his bike and pedaled away.  When you’d offered him an invitation to stay and meet the rest of the Circle, he mumbled something about feeding a snake and fled.

Tonight, you hoped he would have a change of heart.  After hours, you and Izzy usually got up to activities that did not require any participants, but he had talked Axl into a jam session, bringing along two guitars as well as a tambourine.

“I-I don’t have any plans,” he said quietly, gazing longingly out the window.  It was nearly time for Axl to fetch his dinner taco.

“There’s a jam over at the Frozen Delights truck after they close.”

Slash lit up, grinning wider than you had ever seen him, then his face fell.  “I didn’t bring my guitar.”

“Izzy brought two.  He’d like to hear you play.”  That was almost a lie.  Izzy wasn’t all that keen on a jam, preferring the two of you spending time alone, but when you whispered on his neck you’d make it up to him, his enthusiasm level picked up.

To your surprise, Slash’s cheeks flushed.  “I’d love to come,” then he stood up a little straighter and you saw Axl strutting up to the window.

“Hey, Slash,” he greeted him, and you stepped back into the shadows to give them a semblance of privacy.

“Hi.”

“Hey, you wanna come over tonight and play music with me and Izz?  He’s got an extra guitar.”

Slash beamed at him, then lowered his eyes.  “Sure.  So-sounds good.”

Axl smiled back, and you about fell over at the sight.  Too bad he didn’t do it more often, he was quite attractive when he stopped scowling.  He began to walk away, then backtracked.  “Hey,” he squinted up, “do you like barbecue?”

Slash blinked, then replied, “I love barbecue.”

Axl’s smile got even bigger.  “I’ll have some when you get there.”

After he left, Slash looked over at you with his mouth agape.

“Well, it sounds like you have a date,” you chuckled at him.  “Good thing he’s provided dinner.”

He tilted his head.  “Why?”

“I was going to suggest you bring over one of those homewrecker corn dogs and eat it in front of him,” you cackled.  “Izzy’s eyes nearly left his head when I did that.”

“Oh shit,” Slash breathed, laughing with you, then his eyes turned pleading.  “You’ll be there, won’t you, you and Izz?  You won’t leave me alone?”

Well, that had been the plan.  “Uhhh, sure, Slash.  We won’t leave you.”

After you locked up, you nearly had to drag a primping Slash down to the Frozen Delights truck, pecking Izzy on the lips when you arrived.  Axl had taken off to get dinner, so the three of you sat down and opened up beers while you awaited his return.

You watched Slash’s leg nervously bounce up and down, then Axl stood in front of him and handed him a takeout container.  

“I didn’t know what you liked so I got you a sample platter,” he said, and you swore you heard a note of shyness in his voice.

Izzy cleared his throat, and Axl all but flung your containers at the two of you.  “Yeah, I got you the same,” he mumbled, jerking his lawn chair closer to Slash’s.

The four of you ate in silence, you silently thanking Kelly for his prowess with pork, working the meat off a rib and catching an ornery smile from Izzy.

Axl just picked at his platter, moving around his coleslaw and half heartedly munching on his brisket.  His eyes never left Slash, who looked down and gnawed on a rib.

Their awkwardness made you bite back a wince, then you snuck a glance at Izzy, who stabbed his pulled pork wearing expression that looked like he was in acute intestinal distress.  His eyes met yours, then he mouthed, “Kill me.”

“So, uh, Slash, how long have you played guitar?” you asked, dipping a slice of brisket into Kelly’s heavenly sauce.

He pulled on his beer.  “A few years.”

Izzy sat his container down and wiped his hands and face with a napkin.  “I’m ready to play if you are,” he barked, swiftly flicking open his guitar case.

Slash blinked, swallowing his pulled pork.  “Sure,” he said, wiping his hands and carefully picking Izzy’s other guitar up.

Izzy began the opening notes of “Midnight Rider,” Slash chiming in after a few bars, then Axl and Izzy began singing, “I’ve got to run to keep from hiding,” and you dropped a naked rib bone in shock.

They sounded incredible.

You watched them in awe, then Izzy nodded at you, and you began singing with them.  You’d actually done this before, sitting in with Izzy while he played guitar and Axl sang, but Slash was like the key that unlocked their greatness.

Axl and Slash exchanged grins, looking into each other’s eyes, then, wearing a happy smile, Izzy started singing one of his favorites, “Lodi.”

Slash strummed along, but Axl didn’t sing.  Instead, he watched Slash play, his fingers working up and down the neck of the guitar, his silver rings glinting in the moonlight, and a soft smile played on his lips.

He took a sip of beer when they finished, then said, “I have a song I’d like to sing.”

He moved closer to Slash, then pushed his curls out of his eyes and sang,

“Desperado

Why don’t you come to your senses

You’ve been out ridin fences for so long now”

Slash looked down, setting Izzy’s guitar in its case, then Axl tipped his chin up and continued,

“Oh, you’re a hard one

But I know that you got your reasons

These things that are pleasing you

Can hurt you somehow

Izzy silently packed away his guitar, then jerked his head towards Helen the Happy Taco truck.  You followed him, turning around to see Axl whisper,

“You better let somebody love you

Before it’s too late”

and press a kiss to Slash’s lips, then Slash put his arms around Axl’s neck and returned it.

“Thank God,” Izzy muttered.  “I’d rather fuck a bee’s nest than tag along on one of their dates again.”

#izzy stradlin x reader #izzy stradlin fanfiction #axl rose x slash fanfic #axl rose fanfic #slash fanfiction #guns n roses x reader #guns n roses fanfic #slaxl fanfic

[bytheangell]

Hello Elle, after our lovely convo on discord, Alec's Friday nights suddenly got busy. For an hour he disappears and doesn't tell anyone where he goes, just stating he's just going out for a bit. What the others don't know is that he's been going over to Simon's and the duo have been trying to get through *insert generic coop video game here*. You can decide if the others find out or not (*^3^)/~☆

What Friends Are For  (Read on AO3)

Alec shrugs on his jacket and grabs the messenger bag from where he casually tossed it by the door on his way in that morning. He has this timed down to the second - being Head of the Institute has a few perks, including when the best time to sneak out during shift changes and while the cafeteria is open for dinner is to avoid anyone noticing him as he slips out. It worked well for a while… until it didn’t.

Lately, it feels like his family and friends must have some sort of tracker on him because this is the third week in a row one of them stopped him just shy of the front doors while he attempts to sneak out unnoticed on a Friday night.

“My big brother, going somewhere other than patrol on a Friday night? I don’t believe it.” Izzy teases good-naturedly. “Date night?”

Alec considers saying yes, but he can’t risk someone needing him or Magnus for something and discovering the lie.

“No,” Alec admits. “Just going out for a bit.”

It’s the same thing he said two weeks ago when Clary assumed he was going to grab a coffee and asked him to bring her back one, too, and the same thing he told Jace last week when Jace tried to get Alec to cover for him so he could go clubbing with Izzy.

Izzy raises a skeptical eyebrow, but Alec’s already turning back towards the door with a dismissive, “Sorry, gotta run!”

That’s the trouble with Shadowhunters - once they notice a pattern, they can’t let it go. It’s ingrained in their training to pick up on things like that, normally in a battle or tracking sense, but it can be applied everywhere. And unfortunately, Alec’s friends seem to have their minds set on applying it to him.

That’s a problem for another day, though, because he’s already out the door and on his way before he can worry too much about it.

---

The following Friday, Alec is halfway through the ops room when he hears a voice speaking behind him loudly enough to get his attention while he walks with his eyes down, determined not to make eye contact with anyone who might try to stop him on his way out.

“If I didn’t know any better,” Alec hears Jace’s voice say. “I’d think you’re cheating on Magnus or something.”

“That’s absurd,” Alec says, rolling his eyes.

“Of course, it is. That’s why I said ‘if I didn’t know any better’,” Jace points out. “The problem is, I don’t really know better, because you keep disappearing every week without telling anyone where you’re going. And I’m not saying you aren’t entitled to your privacy or anything but… it’s just weird, for you.”

Alec’s glare softens a little. They usually don’t ask, and Alec doesn’t offer anything besides out for a bit’, but he should’ve known that could only last so long. He supposes that’s what he gets for suddenly changing his habits after two decades of always being around. “I swear, there’s nothing to worry about.”

Once it’s clear that’s all Alec plans on saying on it, taking Jace up on the ‘you’re entitled to your privacy’ comment, Jace looks resigned for now. “Alright. See you in two hours?”

Alec shakes his head a little, cursing that knack for routine catching. Or maybe he should just stop being so predictable. “See you then.”

---

In the back of his mind, Alec knows that he should’ve left a while ago. He isn’t sure how much longer than his usual hour or two he’s been here because he can’t take his eyes off of the screen in front of him. It’s like watching a car crash in slow motion, first one thing goes wrong, then runs into another, and soon everything is backed up and piling on top of one another in an inevitable train reaction. Alec’s strategy training should be enough to get him through this, but there’s no accounting for the people you have to work with, and-

Alec is so in the zone that he barely registers the sound of the knock on the door until Simon’s moving in a blur away from him to open it and back, all barely in the blink of an eye. Alec assumes it’s Raphael, because who else would it be?

He assumes wrong.

“You know, for someone with vamp speed, you’re moving PRETTY SLOWLY ACROSS THE DAMN KITCHEN,” Alec says, his voice tense, doing his best to unclench his fingers when he sees the tips of them pressed so tightly they’re whiter than usual.

Simon practically growls beside him, “Yeah, well, for a Shadowhunter, you have a SEVERE LACK OF COORDINATION. How did you drop that?”

“Who the fuck cooks sushi at the same time as burgers anyway?” Alec demands. “This is absurd.”

“...because the rest of the game where you cook food hopping between two sides of a river or on a hot air balloon is not absurd. Got it,” Simon huffs, and only when Alec decides to spare a glance to the side to level Simon with a proper glare does he realize it is not, in fact, Raphael who came to the door.

Izzy, Jace, and Clary all stand just inside the front door, fully gaping at the sight of Alec sitting on Simon’s sofa in sweatpants and a t-shirt, his bare feet curled up underneath his legs, holding a video game controller.

“Alec? Alec! What the- great, we lost,” Simon sighs, glancing around at the lot of them. “If I knew you were going to save some sort of existential crisis at the sight of your siblings, I would’ve left them in the hallway. Wait, is something wrong?”

Alec opens and shuts his mouth because he doesn’t have an answer to that. Nothing is wrong in the sense that they’re probably not here because the Institute is on fire, but…

“Oh. My. God,” Clary laughs.

“This is where you’ve been sneaking off to?! We thought you were in some, like, underground fight club or got mixed up in some Ifrit drug ring or something,” Jace says. “Especially when you stopped answering your phone.”

Alec fishes his phone out of his pocket to see that it’s off and doesn’t turn on when he hits the power button. It must’ve died on him since he hadn’t planned on being away from the Institute this long and forgot to charge it before he left.

“I can’t believe you never told me Alec’s been playing video games with you,” Izzy rounds on Simon, sounding betrayed.

“You never asked!” Simon defends.

“I did ask you,” Izzy points out, turning on Alec.

Simon frowns. “You lied about hanging out with me?” He sounds a little hurt.

“No!” Alec insists. “I just said I was-”

“-going out for a bit,” Clary, Jace, and Isabelle all finish in unison with Alec.

Simon seems slightly more comforted by that answer, at least.

“It was just supposed to be one time,” Alec says. “I was just going to help him get past one level, but he got stuck on another the next week, and it just… turned into a thing. I know everyone hates the Friday patrols, and I didn’t want to get shit for skipping out on them to play games.” The guilt at getting caught is enough proof of that. Every week he told himself it’d be the last one, but in all honesty, he didn’t want to stop. They were fun, and Alec didn’t know how to deal with actually wanting to ditch out on work to have fun every so often.

He barely realizes he’s already thinking of it in the past tense because now that they know there’s no way he’s getting away with keeping this Friday night routine up in the future.

“And now you’re best friends with Simon,” Jace smirks.

“We’re not friends-” Alec says. “I just come over once a week to play video games. Well, every week except last week - we watched an episode of some cop, comedy, thing?, so I’d understand a reference he kept making.”

“Every time I said ‘Noice’ instead of ‘nice’ he looked like he was going to have an aneurysm,” Simon supplies, mostly for Clary’s benefit, and Clary snorts out a laugh.

“Yeah, you’re best friends now,” Clary confirms.

“I-” Alec starts to insist that they’re absolutely not, but stops, looking confused.

There’s a lull during which everyone levels Alec with the same look.

“...have you never had a friend before?” Clary asks, not unkindly.

Sure, Alec visits Simon once a week, but he sees Raphael once a week when he comes over to Simon’s after sunset, and that doesn’t make the two of them friends, Alec’s sure of that. The only difference with Simon is that they play video games when they meet up, and sometimes Simon orders takeout for him, or have a drink if Alec doesn’t have a patrol to get back to, and they have occasionally been texting lately, but--

“Raziel, we’re friends, aren’t we?” Alec realizes.

“Not with that attitude,” Simon huffs.

“No, sorry, it’s not-” Alec flounders. “I haven’t, really. Had proper friends.” It sounds sad to admit it like that, but there’s no way around it. Izzy and Jace are his siblings so they hardly count, even if they did the sort of things he’d probably do with actual friends.

“I guess we are friends, then,” Alec admits finally.

Alec is a little embarrassed for Simon watching how intensely he beams at that statement, and that’s saying something coming from the guy who just admitted he never had a proper friend before. Still, Alec can’t deny the bit of warmth he feels at knowing Simon wants to be friends with him, too.

Alec clears his throat. “Great. Now that we got that settled, I guess I should go back and actually, you know, run the Institute since you two are incapable of covering for me for a few hours.”

“Not a chance,” Izzy says, shaking her head.

“You never take time off, or have fun, or-”

“Okay, okay, I think we get it,” Alec cuts Jace off.

“Do you know how long Iz and I have been trying to get you to take time off for yourself? In fact, from now on, I’ve got the Friday night shifts. You two enjoy your game nights. Have a beer or something. C’mon,” Jace motions to Izzy and Clary. “Let’s let them get back to their video game bonding.”

Alec’s sure there’s some sort of catch here, but honestly, the idea of a full night off instead of going back to finish paperwork or clean up any messes is too tempting to pass up just then, so he takes it.

“Just don’t forget to do the dishes this time,” Alec pleads, the others already forgotten as Simon restarts the round.

It’s only later, when he finds out that Izzy, Jace, and Clary have been drilling Simon for anecdotes of Alec being ‘adorably normal’ (in Clary’s words) that he momentarily wonders if it’s worth it.

It doesn’t take him long to decide that it is. So what if the others give him a bit of good-natured harassment for it once and a while… after all, he’s quickly learning, that’s what friends are for.

#simon lewis #alec lightwood #shadowhunters #I LOVE THEM AS FRIENDS OKAY #Silec brotp #thank you for this prompt #elle writes a few deadbeat lines #long post #skylar102 #ask rune #elle talks too much

[batsarebetterthanpeople]

I'm a little mad that there wasn't a single fuckery in season 2, a fuckery as Ed sets it up is a theater performance set up to convince someone of something. The taking back the revenge plot didn't involve any misdirection, the stealing from Jackie was a stealth mission the closest they got was dressing up as navy which went to shit immediately because Izzy immediately fumbled the hostage situation but it was doomed to fail on account of most of them being incapable of looking like navy under any circumstances. Where's the pizzazz, wheres the theater, where's the smoke and the pigs blood and the dead body? Where's the tentacles?

[thatscalledtoughlove]

Didn’t Want to Fall in Love - 1: Drink and Dash

Story Synopsis: Isabelle Rosenberg does not believe in love. And she is content. Whenever a man starts to show interest, she does her best to remove herself from the situation, effectively avoiding disaster. But then she meets Zachariah Gomez. He's sweet, he loves to do what most girls could only dream of from a boy, and Izzy has no interest whatsoever. Until one fateful night that all changes, and Izzy soon discovers that, sometimes, love is unavoidable. 

A/N: There is no reason for me to post this on here, but it’s one of my personal favorites so I’m keeping it on here for personal reasons.

-----

I knew the conversation would go nowhere five minutes after it began. A scenario I should’ve anticipated, considering I’d decided to attend a formal banquet for my college’s sociology club. Everyone here tonight wanted to meet someone. Everyone, except for me, that is.

        The guy who stood across from me had lovely brown eyes, the color so rich it reminded me of caramel. Paired with his honey-blond hair, any girl would fall for him in an instant.

         “What about you, Isabelle?” He looked at me with genuine wonder shining in his features. “Any incredible dreams few know about?”

         I did have one dream no one knew about. I wanted to be a painter, not that it mattered. Instead of divulging him with this fantasy, I shrugged.

        “Not really. I’m a major in sociology, and I plan to further my education to become a social worker, what more is there to say?”

        The handsome stranger whose name I’d forgotten immediately after he introduced himself stepped closer. “Oh, come on now, everyone has dreams they’re too embarrassed to share with the general public. Promise I won’t laugh.”

         I forced a smile, the action almost physically painful. “It’s true. Why wouldn’t I go after my dream, considering we live in a world full of possibility?” If I were to be truthful, I hated the formality of this conversation. But cursing up a storm hardly ever made a good impression.

         Mr. Handsome, as I decided to call him for the remainder of the evening, cocked his head to the side. “Whatever you say. Shall we head over to the refreshments table?” Who talked in such a way anymore, I hadn’t the slightest idea.

        With the fake smile still plastered on my face, I looped my arm through Mr. Handsome’s and followed him to the drink table. As we idled there for several minutes and continued the dreary conversation, I found myself picturing a future with this man.

         We would tell everyone of this night. Of how he asked me what my biggest dream was, and how I lied at first, but eventually warmed up to him and revealed it. He did not laugh. Our relationship blossomed from this moment, and we went from complete strangers to a power couple within the span of six months. We would have three children, just like I always wanted, and one would almost definitely end up being Mr. Handsome Jr. Most of our friends would be his friends, because I’d never been the greatest at keeping meaningful relationships, and our lives would be perfect for about thirty years. Then, we would get divorced—mainly my fault, as I am ‘incapable of love’—and the kids would spend weekends with Mom and the weekdays with Dad, since he would clearly be the more responsible parent. I snorted at the imaginary life I’d just created, and a few people glanced my way.

         “Should we get out of here?” Mr. Handsome asked, lightly touching my forearm. I felt nothing.

        No good ever came of a question like that. I glanced around the room, seeking an exit. I saw the ladies’ washroom across the banquet hall. Salvation.

         “Sure, but can I run off to the bathroom first? I shouldn’t be more than five minutes.” I prayed he hadn’t seen me wipe the sweat on my palms off on my dress.

         Mr. Handsome tried and failed to conceal his annoyance. “Yeah, of course. I’ll be waiting right over there.” He pointed to the exit and took off without another word.

         The moment he disappeared from sight, I ran to the washroom. Mercifully, there was a large enough window for me to slip out of on the other side of the room, near the stalls. I kicked off my heels and hurried to the window. Before I could reconsider how ridiculous I was being, I threw it open and tossed my shoes into the grass.

         Music from the main hall floated into the bathroom, a slow, romantic song beginning to play. Mr. Handsome might ask for a dance if I went back out there. Taking a deep breath, I swung one leg over the windowsill. The drop was maybe four feet. No big deal.

         Just as I was crawling my way out, an older woman entered. She froze in her tracks when our eyes locked.

         “May I ask which man it is you are running from?”

         “Tall, blond, beautiful brown eyes.”

         She started to grin. “Ah, Justin. Strange that you’re dashing away from such a perfect gentleman.”

        I attempted to smile back but gave up after a few seconds. “That’s the way I do things. I drink, and then I dash. He’ll find someone else no problem.”

         “That’s very true.” She walked over to the sinks and inspected her reflection. “Well, off with you. I’ll not speak a word of what I’ve witnessed. Have a lovely evening.”

         This time I did grin. “Thanks, you too!”

         And with that, I dropped down onto the ground on the other side.

        A few people threw me suspicious stares when I emerged from the bushes, walking slowly to the nearby bus stop, high heels in hand. The small clutch I’d brought as a purse didn’t have nearly enough room for what I typically considered essentials. Not only was it too small for a book, but I had to battle with it to fit my phone and some emergency money.

        “Good evening,” the bus driver said when I stepped onto the bus, his eyebrow raising when he looked down at my filthy feet.

         I had no idea how much longer I could put on fake smiles. “Hello.”

        He nodded when I showed my student ID with a bus pass sticker stuck to it. There were seven other people on the bus with me, excluding the driver. Two teenagers, three elderly people, and one young father with his child. The father was the only one to give me a smile instead of a glare.

         “Long night?” he asked when I took a seat at the front of the bus, across from him and his daughter, who looked around two years old.

         Most people never tried to talk to me in public. Then again, I almost always had earphones in. I cursed my clutch for not having enough space for them tonight.

          Shrugging, I crossed my feet, placing my clutch and shoes in the seat to my right. “You could say that. How old is she?” I used my chin to point at the little girl, not in the mood to discuss the extraordinary circumstances of my evening.

         “Turning three in a few months.” He had a five o’clock shadow, giving him a more rugged appearance.

         “Nice.”

        Our small talk ceased after that. For someone looking to build a career in communicating with people, I wasn’t the most social person. I preferred to spend time alone.

         Ten minutes later, the man and his daughter got off the bus. He told me to have a great day, despite it being close to ten at night, and then swept the girl up in his arms, leaving through the front set of doors.

         Guilt for abandoning Mr. Handsome—or, rather, Justin—didn’t sink in until I was making my way up the street to my apartment complex. I briefly wondered if he spent any time thinking about me before moving onto the next girl. It seemed unlikely.

         My roommate stared at me when he opened the door after I’d knocked a dozen times. He blinked, looking me up and down before taking a step back. “Okay, what’s the story this time?”

         “Don’t you dare judge me, Tony! I had to sneak out through the window in the ladies’ restroom. So, I apologize if I’m not as presentable as you’d like.”

         “Izzy, I’ve seen you in just about any state imaginable. Trust me, I don’t give a shit about your appearance.” We’d been best friends since second grade, Anthony and me. He was the only person I could consider a real friend these days.

         I sighed as loud as I could, stepping into the apartment. Tony jumped when I threw my heels on the floor. He had always been a bit jumpy. It made scaring him easy.

         He slunk back over to the stove, where he’d been making an omelette. “What’s the story this time? Did he manage to get a kiss out of you, or am I still the only one who’s had that honor?”

         Five years ago, during our sophomore year during a school dance, we’d both had our first kiss with each other. Tony liked to tease me about it whenever he got the chance. Like me, Tony had been terrible with the opposite sex as a teenager. Unlike me, Tony had had his fair share of relationships since that night five years ago.

         “You are still the only person I’ve gotten that close to,” I said, following him into the kitchen. “Do me a favor and unzip me.” I grinned at the smirk on his face when he turned to face me.

         Tony shook his head, motioning for me to turn around. “Do you realize how weird it is for you to act so chill around me? This is the literal definition of the friendzone.”

         Neither of us spoke for a moment, the awkward silence settling around us. Although we’d never had feelings for each other, there were times when the teasing went too far.

        I cleared my throat, pressing my dress to my chest when he’d unzipped it completely. “It’s a good thing we’re nothing more than best friends,” I said, turning back to look at him. “Other than that one time we kissed, of course.”

         In truth, Tony had to be one of the best-looking men I knew. His dark brown hair and eyes had a habit of making most girls swoon. Not a surprise, considering the family he came from had tons of beautiful people, his cousin especially. I’d only met him once, and couldn’t even remember his name, but I remembered the unreal face.

         “Just shut up and go change into something more comfortable. I need to hear tonight’s story. But wash your feet first. They’re filthy.” I stuck my tongue out at him when he went back to cooking his omelette, crossing the small space we called a living room over to my bedroom.

         Twenty minutes later, after I’d changed into some pajamas and washed my feet in the tub, I skipped back over to the kitchen. Tony placed a plate in front of me when I took a seat at the island. He waved me off when I grinned up at him, the smell of melted cheese from the omelette making my stomach growl.

        “Okay, let’s hear it.” He leaned on the counter across from me, his hair in desperate need of a trim. Bangs fell in his eyes, concealing the left side of his face.

         I held a finger up, finishing the bite of egg I’d taken. Tony waited patiently. “The night started out okay,” I said, taking another quick bite of my food. “And then he suggested that we get out of there and I knew that was my cue to run.”

        A grin spread across his face. “Izzy, why are you such a commitment-phobe? Actually, scratch that—why are you afraid of love in general? I can assure you that it’s not all that bad.”

         “Better things to do? I have a career to chase, everything else comes after that.”

         Tony sighed, taking the plate away once I’d cleared it. “It is possible to do both, you do know that, right?”

        I waved him off, standing from the stool and walking over to the easel in the corner of the room by the balcony. One side had all of my art supplies while the opposite wall had dozens of photos hanging everywhere. An expensive camera sat on a side table on top of two photo albums.

         “Is there any reason you have this particular photo out of the photo album?” I asked, nodding at the wedding photo from his cousin’s wedding a few years earlier that lay beside the camera. In it, his cousin and his wife stood surrounded by their family. Tony’s uncle—his cousin’s dad—was in a wheelchair, and the bride has two sets of parents standing near her. “You barely even talk to him.”

        Tony frowned, remaining at his spot in the kitchen. “What? I like that picture! The way her hair shines in the sunlight makes for a great shot. You don’t see hair that color naturally often.”

         “Yeah, whatever.” I laughed when he flipped me off. “Speaking of that, we should really get you out more to take some photos. I still have no idea why you’re studying business when you hate it.”

         The look he gave me could freeze Hell over. “Well, when your parents offer to pay for your education, you better damn well study what they want you to.”

        Our conversation about school ended there. Eventually, I gave up trying to paint something new and Tony decided to leave his spot behind the kitchen island. We dropped down on the couch at the same time, sitting in silence for several minutes before either one of us spoke.

         “I have a feeling we’re going to have to make one of those lame pacts to marry each other when we hit thirty.”

         I raised an eyebrow, turning my head to the side to look at him. “What makes you think that?”

        “Oh, I don’t know…maybe the fact that we’re both horrible at romantic relationships? You’ve never had one, and I can’t keep one for more than six months.” Despite trying to sound casual, I could see the genuine concern in Tony’s facial expression. He often worried he would never find the one.

         “I’m perfectly fine with living my life without romance,” I said, pulling my legs up on the couch with me. “Besides, us getting married would mean we’d be expected to have kids and everything. We can be platonic life-partners instead.”

        Tony rolled his eyes. “Would it kill you to let some romance in your life, Izzy? It’s not like men haven’t shown interest in you.”

        I sighed, reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table. “Yeah, and every single man who’s shown interest in me was someone I had no interest in.” Of course, I did feel lonely at times, not having someone to share my life with, but I had other things to worry about. Career things. Rent things. School things.

         My mother often badgered me for choosing to spend almost all my spare time at home with Tony, someone she knew I would never have romantic feelings for. She often sounded like someone straight out of a rom-com, lecturing me about how it was best to have children in my twenties. What she didn’t know was that I had no desire to become a mother, and that the idea of romance nauseated me. I’d much rather watch an action movie, or a horror.

         Which was why Tony and I got along so well. He loved gore, and so did I. I loved to make fun of romantic movies, and so did he. We were soulmates, just not the epic couple kind.

        “Well, should we watch a movie?” I looked over at him again and was unsurprised to see him scrolling through one of his dating apps. He couldn’t go more than a week without trying to find someone new. Sadly, I didn’t have the heart to tell Tony that the kind of girl he was looking for was likely in a bookstore and not on an app designed for hooking up with strangers in the area.

         Tony didn’t seem to hear me, continuing his search through the girls he matched with. I felt a little irritated, and no longer cared about biting my tongue. “Why don’t you go out and try to meet people the old-fashioned way?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. “There’s a girl who’s always at that café around the corner who stares at you every time we go there.”

        His thumb froze, hovering an inch over the screen. Curiosity shone in his eyes when he looked up at me. “Are you being serious?”

        “Yes. And, honestly, I think she’s probably more up your alley than those girls are.” He frowned, and a small voice whispered in my head to shut up, but I ignored it. “You also aren’t really the kind of guy who just wants to hook up. We both know you’re looking for a serious relationship.”

         “Izzy, we live in the age of online dating. Tell you what, I’ll attempt to meet someone the old-fashioned way—” he made air quotes while saying this—“if you’ll make yourself a profile and go on at least one date. I could even help you set the profile up!”

        Did I really want to do that? “Fine. One date, and that’s it. But if I end up getting murdered by a crazy person, that’s all on you.”

        He laughed, throwing his phone on the armchair a few feet away from the couch. “You’ve been watching way too many crime shows, that stuff rarely happens in real life.”

         And that was how we ended up sitting beside each other on the couch with a laptop in his lap, creating dating profiles for me on all the major websites. Except for Tinder. I refused to sign up for it, much to Tony’s dismay.

        We spent the better part of the night filling out profiles. Tony would ask me questions, I would give answers, and he would type them up. I could already feel the annoyance settling in.

         One date. I repeated that in my head until it became a mantra. One date, one guy, and then I would secretly delete all the dating apps from my phone and figure out how to deactivate the accounts. I could do this one thing if it meant Tony finding a girl he would actually enjoy spending time with.

         “Should we try to get you some matches now?” Tony asked, looking up at me with a smirk. “I bet it’ll be a great date.”

         “Can this wait until tomorrow? I doubt I’ll get that many matches anyway, what with my ridiculous profiles.”

        Tony groaned, shutting the laptop in his lap before placing it on the coffee table. “Fine. You don’t have to put much effort in with some of these sites anyway. It will find matches for you.”

         “Great,” I said, dragging out the word. “I can’t wait to meet someone I have no interest in. Thanks a lot, Tony.”

         After that, we watched The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. It was the remake with Jessica Biel, and Tony fell asleep before anyone even died. While he snored beside me as the credits rolled, I snuck a look at my phone, the tiniest part of me wondering if I would have any matches.

         None. Zero. And although I knew none of the matches would interest me anyway, the knowledge that no one matched me bothered just a little more than I cared to admit.

#my writing #original writing #writblr #writers on tumblr #original story #DWTFIL

[cieloxcnco]

yo te haré mía (cnco) - ch9

Chapter 9

Words: 3,200+

Warnings: first scene has light implications of smut. second scene you’re fine. third gets a little raunchy but not down and dirty.

A/N: all necessary things to lead up to Ch 10 when the real shit starts going down. sorry you waited so long for something so meh, but it gets better. swear. chapter 8 is here if you want to catch up.

Zabdiel slid his heavy steel rings off his fingers into a jewelry dish on the nightstand as he sat on the edge of his side of the bed, heaving out a sigh. “He's finally asleep.” Isabella muttered in assent, brushing her hair out over her shoulder before sliding beneath the bedsheets. “I feel horrible,” he grumbled, rubbing his palms over his cropped hair. “I do miss spending time with him. I feel like this whole album has taken over everything.” He rolled his shoulders with an audible huff, shedding his t-shirt and making short work of sliding his jeans to the ground. Grouping the laundry together in a ball he tossed it into the hamper, a small grin at the victory. “It should all be better once the new album is done.” Isa rolled to the inside of the bed, facing toward him for a change. “And after the album is promotional things and interviews, after promo is a tour, and after a tour is another album. There’s no slowing down or stopping, Zabdiel.” He collapsed into the pillow beside her, his arm thrown haphazardly over his eyes, almost in defeat. She tucked her hands under her head. “The cycle of your career won’t stop. And the difficulty with your family won’t stop until you show some effort.” He lifted his arm off his face and lowered his gaze to meet hers. “We're not only talking about Joaquin anymore, are we?” Isa looked down toward the lump in the sheets where her toes were hiding. “You have to understand,” she began slowly, “how alone all of this has made me feel.” He huffed, throwing his arm down on the mattress beside him. “How am I supposed to know how you feel if you don’t tell me?” She still couldn’t look to his face. “How am I supposed to tell you how to parent, how to be a husband? Your sole focus right now is being a musician. It’s frustrating when the people on the outside of it have to cope without you, but it’s been so long we’ve gotten used to the situation. It just doesn’t make it easier to stomach.” Zabdiel stared up at the ceiling, clearly ingesting her words and now deep in thought. He was silent for a few minutes, no sound but their slow breathing. She knew that she had probably been harsher with him than was necessary, but clearly it had made an impact. She was just sure it would change nothing. “I promised you,” he started slowly, turning his body towards hers and trailing his hand down her arm until it clasped hers, “that I would be faithful, loyal, and loving, and I haven’t been that to you in a long time. I’ve taken you for granted and I’m sorry.” The shock set in and her mouth was too dry for her to speak. He squeezed her hand affectionately. “Maybe a little island getaway for the two of us before the baby comes?” She was a lot more hesitant about it than her immediate response let on. “I know that you need new inspiration for your love song. Being so tranquil and relaxed on vacation will make you a better songwriter.” “Amor, no.” Her gaze still focused away from him, he leaned down so his lips could meet hers. Surprised by the kiss, she looked up and met his eyes. “I want to be a better man for my family, a better father, a better husband for you.” She shook her head against the pillow, tracing her fingertips over his that were tightly clutching the pillow from underneath. “You can’t do that and put your music on the sidelines.” He shook his head in agreement. “No, es cierto, pero I can take small steps to show you all you mean to me. Saying it is only one part. You deserve to be shown it.” He sat up on his knees to be able to reach into the drawer in the table of the nearby nightstand. “I had this to give to you when we were going to go out tonight, but we didn’t really get that chance.” Retrieving a small jewelry box, he presented it in his hand that lay in his lap. She sat up beside him, hesitantly examining the box with her eyes, unsure if she should reach for it. “Izzy,” he chuckled, “I promise it won’t bite you.” Lifting the lid, she revealed inside a small silver oval locket. Engraved across the front were the the words “te recibo a ti” and in flipping to the back to find the opening there was the continuation “y me entrego a ti”,  a line of the vows they’d made at their wedding. A button sat below the hook of where the locket connected to the thin chain and pressing the button lightly opened the hinge of the locket. On the left panel was a thin layer of glass covering a backdrop of diamonds, a miniature blue orchid like that of her wedding bouquet pressed between. The right panel held a small photograph of the two from their wedding, staring into each other’s eyes with unmistakably genuine smiles. He lowered his head to be able to press his lips against her forehead. “Te lo prometí, mi amor, and I’m sorry I haven’t been acting like it. Pero te amo, y siempre te amaré.” The genuine thought and effort to create something so meaningful struck a chord in her heart. For so long, she had believed him incapable of any sort of effort involving her. Perhaps she had lost the will to put forth effort when she thought he had also given up. But he clearly hadn’t. The tears that were threatening to fall from her eyes were stopped as she shut them to pull him close and kiss him deeply. He shuffled the box back to the nightstand as he lost himself in her lips. And as his body fit to hers and they physically reconnected, she had to think that this was the connection that they had both been missing. And as they laid tangled in each other afterwards and he fell into peaceful sleep at her side, she couldn't help but stay awake wondering if now that they were trying to mend things if her secrets with Christopher would be too much to overcome.

-

Chris was never early to anything. Ever. But the lack of sleep he’d had the night before had him awake anyway, so he figured he might as well head to the dance studio for choreography rehearsal. It might have even given him time to relax and take his mind off of his best friend’s wife. If his best friend hadn’t been the only other person in the room. “Hey, man, ¿como estas?” Zabdiel was always so energetic even before caffeine and it was almost frightening. “Exhausted pero estoy aquí," he mumbled, rubbing his palms over his face. “¿Quieres café?” Zabdiel offered, reaching for his wallet and ready to run down the block to the Starbucks. “Nah, esta bien,” he murmured. “I already had a cup when I left.” He didn't want to admit that it was to shake how drunk he still had been from the night before. Knowing that Zabdiel was spending a romantic night with the woman that should have been in bed with him had been too much to mentally handle while sober. “You’ve been pulling late nights with Krista for a while though, hermano,” Zabdiel mused. “¿Que esta pasando?” “She’s stressing me out, bro,” he groaned, the still tipsy mind revealing the true thoughts he usually kept under wraps. “I get that everyone is talking about us and the new music. It’s bringing publicity like it was supposed to. I just can’t stand being around her anymore and she tries to make it real. I don’t want it.” Zabdiel studied his friend’s expression and how the stress didn’t leave his face when the alleged cause had been spoken. “That’s not all.” Chris tugged on the brim of his fitted cap and pulled it slightly over his eyes as he sat down against the mirrored wall. The only time Zabdiel had seen his bandmate engaged and excited lately was when he had been in the studio texting that girl, then writing that passionate ballad. “¿Crees que no estas feliz con ella porque estas pensando en otra?” Zabdiel chuckled. With the silence that followed, he quickly realized that it was less of a joke than it was hitting the nail on the head. “Si no estas feliz y quieres otra mujer,” he said softly, “¿por que no puedes acabar lo que tienes con Krista para empezar algo con la otra?” “It’s not that simple,” Chris muttered. “Why not?” Zabdiel asked, ending his bicep stretch and shrugging his shoulders to loosen them. “La otra esta casada,” Chris confessed. Zabdiel chuckled again before the uncomfortable realization sank in again that he again was not joking. “¿En serio?” “I know, man. It’s fucked up.” Christopher tossed his cap to the floor between his feet. “I knew her before she was married. And she’s told me she’s in love with me too. She just… She won’t leave him. And I don’t know what more I can do. I don’t want to break up a home but… Estoy tan enamorado. I… can’t live without her.” Zabdiel anxiously gnawed on the top of his water bottle. He couldn’t dare tell Chris of his secret that he had not taken those sacred religious vows as sincerely as he ought to have. But he understood the pull of love in the positive and the negative directions, and he refused to allow his friend to suffer with no love at all. “Pues, if you both are in love, it will work itself out. It’s complicated but you should hold on to something if it’s that undeniable type of love.” Christopher fiddled with the sideswept tendrils of his angled bang, letting out a nervous exhale. “How can a man who has a wife tell me to steal one?” “If she loved him enough,” he asserted, “then she never would have began anything with you at all.” Christopher exhaled heavily through his taut lips. "Tal vez.” “Sabes," Zabdiel reasoned, “If you feel love for her and her marido does not, then it’s time for it to be done and for the both of you to be together.” “How can you tell me that? You’re married. Imagínate-“ And Christopher stopped at once, realizing just what he was asking Zabdiel to envision. Zabdiel shook his head. “If her heart doesn’t belong to him, you’re not wrong.” Christopher scoffed. “Someone as pious as you- you don’t believe marriage is sacred? A commitment before God? How can you give me advice when you…” “Marriage is difficult. No one involved in one is ever perfect. I’m sure Izzy and I have not been perfect. But love is different than marriage. Love is something I understand, and I know how you must feel. You can’t let go of what you feel.” He sat across from Chris, still toying with the plastic spout on his water bottle. “It’s more complicated than that,” Chris whispered, regretting having allowed the subject to surface at all. Zabdiel continued, “Fear isn’t as strong as love. And I know the situation is scary, but you have to fight for her. You love her, right?” Chris kept his eyes pinned to the floor. “I’m in love with her. I can’t imagine my life without her. I look at my future and I see myself with her.” Zabdiel shrugged. “Well you have your answer.” Christopher toyed with his shoelaces, anxiously needing to busy his fingers. “It’s wrong. She has a husband and a life. I’m trying to let her go and let her be happy.” Zabdiel studied his friend’s nervous movements, trying to read what Christopher left unspoken. “You’re still having sex with her?” Again his silence was enough of an answer. “Then you’re not really trying to let her go.” Chris shook his head. “I want to do the right thing. I’m just in love with her, bro, and she loves me. She just won’t leave him.” Zabdiel leaned over and clapped his hand on Christopher’s shoulder. “It will work itself out. And you know I’m always here for you.” “Gracias, man,” Chris said, flipping his fitted cap on backwards and rocking his head back and forth to each shoulder as if it would shake the thoughts of her out of his mind. Zabdiel gave an acknowledging nod, trying to rid himself of his own advice. If they’d really been in love, one wouldn’t have strayed to start with. Maybe he didn’t… Maybe his indiscretions with Krista were telling him that it was over with Isabella and this trying to make it work was a futile effort. Richard, Joel, and Erick walked in with their coffee a moment later, joking and laughing from whatever they had spoken about on their trip. “¿Listos, chicos?” Richard asked, throwing down his cinch sack and taking a long chug of his iced macchiato. Clara pushed the doors open behind them and rushed ahead to stand in the center of them all. “Stop. Everything.” she panted. “We’re not rehearsing today.” “¿De que hablas?" Erick asked, tilting his head like a puppy who had just heard a foreign sound for the first time. “We’re going out and celebrating,” she started with her trademark beaming grin. “¿Estamos celebrando que?” Erick pushed. “You guys,” she squealed, “were just nominated for a Grammy for Album of the Year.”

-

The evening had spun out of control pretty quickly. The early afternoon was all the boys huddled in the dance studio, tweeting and posting to their instagram stories about the Grammy details. They eventually made their way back to SONY to go over specifics for promotion, did a Skype call with Ricky Martin from the conference room, and called in to three radio stations for interviews and congratulations. Only then did they get the opportunity to call everyone they knew, who already knew because of the social media posts. It was decided that the evening would be made into an impromptu party at Zabdiel’s house. Noemi was more than happy to take her grandchildren for an unplanned sleepover so her son could have the chance to properly celebrate with his friends. There was always enough liquor in the spread of their basement to take care of all friends, production, and family. And it had all night long. Isabella being so far along pregnant couldn’t drink so just tended to all of her husband’s guests. Most of the producers, DJs, and fellow artists in their circle had left after one in the morning. Clara caught an Uber back to her AirBNB with Kevin about two hours after. Joel had been playing billiards with Chris but disappeared about half an hour before in search of a snack and had yet to return. Yashua and Richard were aggressively playing basketball on the court right outside. Erick had been playing Xbox games alone but had stumbled up the stairs to find Joel for further competition and had been lost for ten minutes. Zabdiel, as was common in most situations, had sat on a corner of the couch and fallen asleep. Having consumed more than his fair share of alcohol, there would be no waking him now. Chris had thought this out almost strategically. His celebration would be best experienced sober when the rest had ended their night and he got the opportunity to be alone with her. He had a few drinks sporadically throughout the night, but to keep up appearances only, not to drink to excess. He placed his pool cue on the table and stepped quietly over as Isa covered her snoring husband with a blanket. "¿Necesitas ayuda?" "No, estoy bien, gracias,” she said softly, visibly stiffening. “Gracias por todo lo que has hecho esta noche, amorcita,” Chris breathed, skating his hands up her hips and breathing softly against her ear. “Christopher, what are you doing?” she hissed, knowing she should break away but falling further back into his embrace. “What I’ve wanted to do all night,” he murmured, kissing a path down from her temple to the base of her neck. “Are you insane? Zabdi is right here,” she seethed, wriggling in his arms. She stared at her husband’s sleeping body beside her and gasped, but felt electricity surge through her as Christopher’s hands stroked down to the apex of her thighs. “Y el no tiene que saber nada,” he groaned, pressing into her. “Todavía estoy enojada contigo,” she moaned quietly, winding her waist against his. “Obviously.” He nipped at the nape of her neck and slipped his hand into her jeans. “We need to stop taking shots at each other and just accept we’re in love and this isn’t over.” His fingertip touched her clit and she clutched his wrists for stability. “Amor,” she exclaimed, begging for nothing specific but she didn’t need to say it. “You want it,” he insisted, his growing desire pressing into her from behind. “I know it. You push me away but it’s because you’re scared by how much you need me.” “Christopher,” she gasped. Zabdiel stirred in his sleep and Isa jumped, jerking her body to the side which only made the friction of Chris’ hand send more sensation up her spine. “Ay, Dios mio.” “I shouldn’t have pushed about the baby,” he murmured, now pulling the collar of her top down so he could lay open mouthed kisses on her shoulder. He feared her moving away again but saw she was too lost in pleasure to react. “I’m sorry. I just love you. I want you. I want all of you.” “Fuck me, papi,” she pleaded, leaning forward to grip the back of the couch. Chris withdrew his hand and smirked, sarcastically repeating her warning. “Are you insane? Zabdi is right here.” “A mi no me importa,” she sighed, turning to face him and gripping the back of his neck to pull his head down to meet hers. She kissed him fiercely, threading her fingers through his hair and pulling him as close as her belly bump allowed them. It was an immediate spark that ignited a wildfire. It didn’t matter how wrong it was- something this intense could not be so easily extinguished. He roared into her mouth as he kissed her, his one hand sliding up her back and his other sliding to grab her ass. He took a brief breath between their parted lips just to say, “Lo siento. Te amo tanto,” before pouring himself back into their kiss. In the back of his mind he realized that he shouldn’t be debating about whether to set her down on all fours next to her unconscious husband or to bring her up to bed, but the thought was all that was running through his mind. He stopped again to ask how she wanted to continue, only to hear stammering from the staircase. “¿Q- Que hacen?” Isa and Chris both whipped their heads around to see Erick, mouth agape, staring at them from the doorway, surely having seen the entire thing.

- chapter 10 is now here

#cnco fanfiction #cnco fanfic #cnco imagine

[thats-entirely-too-much-tuna]

Afternoon-after thoughts on Little Guy, Black Hair

I didn’t do one of these last week, partly because of the discourse, partly because my life was hectic, but this week, I’m ready. I watched the ep twice last night, slept on it (until noon), and I have assembled my thoughts as follows:

1) Looks like Moloch has always rocked that luscious, long hair, and I’m... hair for it. I’ll see myself out.

2) Priest tells Ken he has a dirty mind, and Friedkin throws himself at him in a hug. Are all the baddies this season lusting after Ken? If Mage and Suzie meet him, are they going to have a wand battle for his honor?

3) Tina fucking broke me this ep, and Izzie slayed it so hard. The poor, heightened girl stimming with a rubber band ball? I died. “Farah, where’s Hobbs?” I died. Her speeches about how she and Hobbs are best friends and this job was just supposed to be a joke, and then about how she needs Bob to find the words? Tattoo some stars on my face and bury me, because I DIED.

4) Dirk looked like a gorgeous fantasy prince for the entire episode, and I was so glad to see him huddled under those leaves for warmth, finally sleeping. Like, yeah, I know he got some sleep after the police station orgy, but still. He’s got a lot of not-sleeping to make up for, and this was a relief to see. Also, did I mention he looked like a gorgeous fantasy prince for the entire episode?

5) I am still celebrating so hard over all the Brotzman interactions. Give me those refreshing, realistic conversations. Give me everything not immediately being perfect between them. Give me bitch slaps and giggles and sibling bird-flipping. This is the content we’ve all been waiting for.

6) “Todd, your normal life is over.” Todd, I’m not sure if you knew this, but your normal life ended the second your boss told you to check out the penthouse. There are no words for what your life is now.

7) When Dirk doesn’t know what to do: “Quick! A new snazzy outfit!” This boy self-medicates with fashion, and if that ain’t gay culture...

8) Dirk’s facility with accents is... something. He’s basically a fusion restaurant in a man’s body. One that apparently serves English pub fare, Irish stew, Tex-Mex, and... whatever pirates eat. Also, did he take Intro to Spanish, or...?

9) Speaking of pirates, the music in this episode was perfect. The Pirates of the Caribbean-esque soundtrack, which I’m sure Max fought to the death for, those musical stings every time Todd and Amanda bitch-slapped each other, angsty Mr. Sandman, the reprise of the Patrick Spring explanation music from 1x07? Pure gold. 

10) Some notable Todd lines: “You know what’s really crazy?” *SLAP* “Well, okay, but I swallowed it, so...” And his “Yeah, actually,” when Amanda asks him about Farah. I mean, I do not ship it in the slightest, but that delivery was adorable af. Bless you, Elijah Wood. Bless you.

11) I had a lot of theories about the context of “little guy, black hair”, but I would never have guessed it was Vogel describing Amanda. And I love it.

12) When Bob started to say quarry, I damn near shat myself because I thought he was saying “corpse”. Please be alive at the quarry, Hobbs.

13) The entire “battle” scene gave me so much life. All the reunion smiles between Dirk, Todd and Amanda. “I knew you’d show up.” “You did?” Another much-needed hug. The duel of the shit-with-swordsmen. Literally everyone beckoning for Beast to jump in the truck, and then waving the fuck goodbye to all the Dengdamors. “Wegah fenz!” Yes, sweetie, you most certainly do.

14) Also, is Dirk physically incapable of being friendly to people who want to hurt him, as long as they know who he is? 

Gordon Rimmer: “You!” Dirk: “Me! It is.” 

Weedle: “You must be Dirk Gently.” Dirk: “It’s me.” 

Silas: “Are you Dirk Gently?” Dirk: “Hi.”

15) Is... is Dirk’s shoulder okay? I feel like his shoulder situation was glossed over. That one shoulder is probably going to be a gnarled stump by the time this show is over. 

16) Dirk’s explanation. That completely extra stance. Him somehow walking all the way around the group without anyone noticing. Amanda not knowing there was a new case, because obviously she wouldn’t. The return of “Done! Did it! Did it!” Dirk screaming Todd’s name excitedly. Everyone being happy and fulfilled and laughing until GODDAMN IT SUZIE WHY COULDN’T YOU HAVE WAITED LIKE ONE MINUTE?! AND MAGE, YOU’RE NO BETTER.

Bonus: “I can’t believe I’m able to follow this.” Same, dude.

#dghda #dirk gently #dghda spoilers #dirk gently spoilers #dirk gently season 2

[ladydracarysao3]

In Love, Serenity  

Chapter Thirty Six: Hustler

Summary: In the aftermath of Adamant, and all that happened there, how is our assassin handling it? Is it as Cullen thinks? Is she cooling off? Or is it as Izzy fears? Is she stewing in her hatred? 

[Read Chapter 36 on AO3]  or  [Start from the Beginning]

-Abner-

The world is an ugly place while viewing it from behind bars.

Sneers and jeers are thrown into the jail cart. A hacked wad of spit is chucked inside, followed by an explosion of laughter before the men walk away...back to their tents, back to their beds, to their campfires and heroic tales. But no fluids or curses could hurt Abner further than the beating she has already endured. They are nothing, for she has been destroyed repeatedly throughout this life, and the pain has since transcended from the agony of loss into the absolution of hate.

Life may continue outside of the iron bars, but all Abner wants is to watch it burn. Watch as the horses run. Listen to the traitors scream. She would rather see the world aflame, than to live another moment in it as it is.

She can feel her heartbeat in her ears while she focuses on the braziers and campfires, a dark opera of destruction playing endlessly in her mind. Unsure if this world deserves saving, for all it does is spiral into hell at every chance.

But shuffling at the door to the jail cart attracts her glare. What now? A soldier coming in for a real go at her this time? She is ready.

Instead, another sneering face is shoved inside and her blood boils at the sight of him. One of the world’s chief traitors and ruiners. One of the reasons why no Gods dare protect this ungrateful place, whether they exist or not, for men like him are hellbent on destroying their gifts.

“We caught him trying to escape back to Tevinter on foot. Guess the piss ran outta juice, scouts were finally able to see through his fade steps and cloakin’,” says a soldier to the jail guard.

“I don’t know why the Inquisitor doesn’t just kill the bastard now,” the jailer scoffs.

“Perhaps, because she knows a man of my talents could be of use to her, you insolent peck.” The magister sneers more, but flinches when the guard gestures to strike him. His cowardice brings them all laughter, and they close the iron gate with a reverberating crash.

Erimond settles in the far corner, opposite from Abner. Leaning against the bars with his knees brought to his chest, he crouches in much the same posture as her. He glances over, then pauses before a jarred double-take. “I saw you there,” he says. “Are you not with the Inquisition? What did you do to end up in here?”

The sound of his sniveling voice makes her skin crawl. His beady eyes glaring in her direction infuriates her. Abner shifts and leans toward him, ensuring he can see the fires of damnation raging in her eyes. She speaks slowly so that the demon may understand. “I swear to the Gods...the Creators...the Ancestors...the Maker...to the Lady of the fucking Skies - If you so much as look at me again, I will tear out your eyes.”

Erimond grunts and rolls his shoulders, but looks away and does not speak another word. Abner settles back into her corner, returning her stare to the camp beyond the bars. Her eyes lock on the fires, and her imagination finds its gruesome home of burning pandemonium once again.

A distorted, shadowy figure walks from the fires, blocking her view as it approaches. Soon, she’s able to make out the shape of the dwarf who should be as angry as she, and she feels a sense of relief wash over her like icy fire. Abner crawls to the bars, wincing at the pain calling out through her body from dried-up and bloodied wounds, screaming bones, and tender bruises.

Varric shakes his head at the sight of her. “I can’t believe they have you caged up like this. Hasn’t anyone come to check on you?”

“Inquisition soldiers give no shits for someone who threatened their savior.”

Varric grunts. “Turns out Rusty wasn’t sent by the Maker. We found her memories in the Fade. She walked in while Corypheus was using that orb on the Divine. She touched it, and it caused both the explosion and the mark on her hand. No Maker. No Andraste. Just...a shitty place at a shitty time.”

“Figures.”

His eyes scan the dried blood on her skin and clothing and his expression falls even deeper than where it was. “If she knew you were being treated like this…”

Abner scoffs and spits through the bars at the dirt. “She put me here.”

“Well, you…”

Gripping the iron bars she presses her face between them. “She left him there, Varric. Of all the people who should be just as fuckin’ pissed as I am, it’s you.”

“You didn’t see it...that demon...there’s just no way…”

“He’s not dead!” she curses through gritted teeth. “How can you think he’s dead? Did you see him die?”

“I didn’t have to.”

Abner slams her palms into the bars and the cart rattles with a low hum. “Fucking bullshit!” she screams. “He’s not. I know he’s not. We have to save him!”

Dipping his head, he inches closer to the cart and drops his voice to a barely audible, raspy rumble. “The more you talk like that , Killer, the longer they are going to keep you here.” Abner’s stare burrows into Varric’s whiskey brown eyes. He sighs at her stubborn anger, pain and sadness within him causing the whiskey to glass over. “You need to...accept it.”

“I’m not giving up on him,” she says, sitting back against the bars.

“Hawke wouldn’t want you doing this to yourself.”

“Oh, and he wants you to abandon him?”

“That’s not--”

“Just go,” she murmurs and looks away. The one person she thought would understand is just like the rest of them. Fools. Floundering idiots incapable of saving this world. They don’t deserve him. If roles were reversed, he’d do whatever it takes...

“Ki-- Abner , I...”

“Go,” she commands with a sore but razor sharp edge. Abner’s body then balls up into itself. She doesn’t watch him leave, instead, smears away tears before they have the chance to fall. “Fuck them. Fuck them all,” she whispers to herself. Lightly rocking, she attempts to block out the wailing in her mind and find some peace in something...perhaps sleep...

It takes a long time to drift asleep in that rotten iron cage, her wounds pinging through her body relentlessly. But when she finally finds her dreams, she also finds her hut.

Furs hang from the walls. A small fire crackles in the center. There is the faint smell of burning blood lotus drifting through the air from the augur’s hut nearby. And her heart breaks for a fraction of a second when she realizes the soft murmuring sounds in her ear are from the lips of her mother. Abner realizes she is sitting on her mother’s lap as the woman whispers stories in her ear, and she wraps her arms tightly around her warm, loving figure.

She listens to whispered tales of elves from long ago. Great Creators who cared for their people, and the tall spires of a magical city where elves were happy and free. She whispers about the deception of the Gods, how they were locked away from their people, and how that lead to the fall of the world. And she’s warned about the evil trickster that roams the dreams of children who have been naughty. The wolf, dreaded and feared, fixing to trap dreamers much like he did the Creators.

Her mother’s voice is calming. Welcomed. It matters not that she is chastising Abner to stop throwing heavy rocks at the other village children, no matter how mercilessly they’ve teased her.

She whispers her lessons in her native tongue, low enough to hide it from Avvar ears, strong enough to teach Abner who she is. “ For all the pain the elves have suffered, if not for the treachery or the shem’s invasion of our lands, I would have never met your father. I would have never had you. ”

There is an ache in Abner’s heart. “ What if no one deserves this world anymore. What if I want to stop them all...forever? ” she asks her mother and the woman stills.

“ The hardships are what make us strong, da’len. We can never erase the past, nor should we. Instead, we fight to uphold what is right, not matter the cost to ourselves.”

“How do we know what is right?”

The door of their hut creaks open with the hulking figure of her father stepping inside. His smile is warm, but as he hears the Dalish words whispered, his mood sinks. “Dinasha, still yourself. If the others were to hear you…”

“Hush, Agner, the child needs to know where she comes from, no matter what your brutish shem clan thinks. I am Dalish. I am Sabrae. I will teach my daughter what I will.”

“We’ve been quiet, papa,” Abner says. She grins mischievously and shrugs up at her father. “If anyone hears, I’ve some rocks to knock the nasty outta their heads.”

Dinasha squeezes Abner’s rebellious, young arm. “Have you learned nothing from what I’ve said today?” Abner cringes through her mother’s scolding, but continues to grin at her father.

“I heard my little fighter bloodied noses today…” her father begins sternly, then smiles, kneels before them, and embraces both women in a giant hug. “What God has shown His favor on me to bless me with two such strong-willed women, eh?”

The love of her family surrounds Abner’s heart and in that moment she feels a bittersweet sense of home . She squeezes her eyes shut and relishes in the feeling. Love. True, unconditional love. All she’s ever needed she found here...in her parent’s arms. And at that moment, a breeze bursts wildly through the windows of the hut, whipping through the hanging furs, spreading ash across the floor, and circling around the three of them. But this wind is not filled with the scent of burning wood, charring meat, mystic hints of blood lotus, or anything else expected from her village’s many scents…

The air fills her lungs aggressively. The scent, different, but still familiar… A muskiness to it, with rich leather undertones, and the electric spark of... magic …

Hawke.

A message sent to her through the Fade, and at once, she remembers that she is dreaming and realizes that he is calling out to her.

He is alive.

Abner’s eyes fly open, but instead of the hut, instead of the champion, instead of anything else she could have been expecting, she is in a charred wasteland. The bodies of what were once her parents are bloodied and broken at her feet alongside many other clan members that lie limp on the ground surrounding her, remnants and pieces of darkspawn also scattered throughout.

Tears stream unrestrained from her eyes. She is about to fall to her knees and reach for her parents once more, when a rough hand grabs her arm and yanks her backwards.

A large man covered in bloody furs, yells in a booming, earth-shaking voice as he drags Abner kicking and screaming through the dirty carnage. “Cursed child! Look at what you’ve done! The Gods turned their backs on us because of your wretched birth, and now look! Our clan is destroyed by monsters! You should have never been born. Or at the very least, you should be lying dead with your treacherous father, you lousy little halfling.”

He stops dead in his tracks, turning and leveling his evil eyes with hers. “I would kill you now if the others didn’t feel some sort of misguided kinship with your father. Lucky for you, there is a man from another clan who has been interested in you for a time. Ignorant Agner refused their offerings…” He smiles wickedly at her. “But I won’t, Abner Half-Heart. Your curse is now theirs to bear.”

Suddenly, her young body is flung through darkness and lands on a hard stone floor with a sharp smack. Everything is dark around her. Black, wet, and cold. But she can sense him, barely making out the sinister shape of his dreaded body as it walks closer to her. Abern’s trembling arms push her up, watching Ofred’s menacing face as he looms over her. Eyes glowing red again, he arches his body to kick her back down.

“Fenedhis lasa!” she says with a spit from her bloodied mouth while snarling at the giant. “I welcome death as long as I bring you with me! Na din’an sahlin!”

“I thought I’d’ve beaten that Dalish filth out of you by now,” he growls.

A gust of air bursts into her lungs once again, filling her with the knowledge of Hawke. Filling her with the realization that this, too, is a dream. As Ofred arcs his hand back to bring it down upon her, she clenches her eyes shut and screams with every fiber, every inch of her hatred and frustration, and Ofred’s strike never falls.

Taking in a deep, steady breath, Abner opens her eyes. The nightmare has ceased, but she is still in the Fade, finding herself in an eerily familiar moonglade. Blades of tall grass rustle in a light breeze, and a milky glow washes over everything from a lazy moon.

“Tell me, what have the humans ever done for you?” a silky voice purrs from behind her. She turns to see the Fadewalker in all his mystic savagery. His fingers idly playing with a tiny glass orb, flitting it around in a small elegant dance. Through dark, draping dreadlocks, his eyes peer at her - a subtle glow to them, almost as milky as the moon.

She does not answer and instinctively keeps her breathing even, waiting for his motives.

“Your Elvhen blood is so much stronger in you,” he continues. A sly and crooked smirk glides up his cheek. “Normally, I frown on the mingling. Human blood tends to erase the evidence of Elves.” His fingers snatch the clear, sparkling orb into a closed fist and he leans down closer to her. “But not you.” His slender dark hand slowly snakes through the damp night air and flicks at the shell of her ear. “If not for these, there’d barely be proof at all.”

Abner furrows her brow and swats his hand away. “What do you want?”

The Fadewalker’s grin evens out on both sides and he spins on his heel, walking away casually through the tall grasses. Turning his head to his shoulder and twining his arms behind his back, he says, “I warned you to be weary of that mage-boy pet of yours. Now it seems your humans have left your pet behind. How does that make you feel?”

Abner slowly follows him through the clearing, watching him through suspicious eyes. “They tell me to let go.”

“And?”

“All I see is evil and egos. Hypocrisy and death. I feel like I want it all black.”

He turns back toward her, stopping them both. “So I ask again, what have humans ever done for you?”

“Do you know where he is? How to get to him?”

He ignores the question. His smug grin settled confidently on his face, he raises one eyebrow and waits.

Abner sighs. “They’ve taken everything.”

“Oh, but you’ve yet to unlock your potential. If you feel broken, it is because a part of you aches for what was . But that can change. You can be whole.” A single finger slides below her chin, confidently lifting it up to him. “What if I told you, we could rise up? Bring the world back to how it was meant to be, and bring glory back to our kind. No more taint and humans to take us apart. All you need to do is leave the human behind, and in turn, embrace the Elvhen.”

“Yer mad.”

The Fadewalker releases her chin and produces the small orb again. With a pass of his other hand, the orb changes from clear glass, to a larger, darker, textured orb with a green-glowing light weaving though ridges much like those found on a fingertip. She watches, mesmerized as the dark thing turns above his flat palm. “With this, we can bring back the days of Arlathan.”

“That’s…” Abner dares to reach toward the glowing magic. “That’s the orb Corpheus…”

Before she can finish, before she can touch it, the Fadewalker snatches it away and makes it disappear, startling Abner and releasing her from its trance.

“A mistake,” he scoffs, his face now fallen into one of disgust. “He doesn’t know how to use such magic. He should have been destroyed by it.” Mumbling under his breath, he stares down at the ground and says, “He would have never discovered it, had I known.”

He looks at her again, grinning. “We can get it back. We must get it back. It belongs with the Elves.” He places a hand on either of her shoulders. “You have a strong connection with the Fade, can't you feel it? Imagine a world wherein you were never separated from it. You belong here. Elves belong here. We can bring it back.”

Abner holds her breath and stares at the man. It was him. Whoever he is, he started all of this. She studies him closer and everything rushes in at once, hitting her so hard that if not for his hands on her shoulders, she may have fallen over.

Her voice is soft, breathless. The word, “Fen’Harel,” sounds almost like the rustling grass, as if the grasses have been whispering it to her all along.

“I have many names, but yes, some know me as thus.”

This man… the trickster… he is too dangerous… too powerful… Abner’s mind stretches and contracts and stretches and contracts while trying to comprehend how her mother’s old stories could have been real. “You...trapped the Creators?”

Fen’Harel sighs with a roll of his eyes. “The Dalish have many things wrong with their history . I removed tyrants, traitors, threats against true Elvhen.”

She listens as he boasts, releasing her from his grasp to pace through the moonglade and tell her stories of that old magical city and how it had become corrupted. He tells her how they can bring back the world without the corrupt and that their people can be magnificent once again, rather then kicked and beaten, or slaughtered for their mere existence.

She watches him as he rants and dreams, trying to convince her of what she could have, what she could be. As the reality and gravity of the situation slowly settles in, as Abner puts fragmented pieces together in her mind, she realizes that no matter what she wants, no matter what the Thedas of now deserves, or what the Thedas of before was, she must keep a watch on this man. If not her, than he will find others. Perhaps he has. Perhaps he has been building an army of rebellion within the dreams of those he deems worthy...or manipulable. He is obviously powerful, if he is who he says he is. If he is who she thinks he is. Is he a God? A protector? Or is he a ruiner. Another being set to destroy the world for his own personal gains.

A man like this is dangerous if left unchecked, and advantageous if he is the one instead, manipulated...

“How am I supposed to help you?” she asks, cutting him off from his speech. If she works this delicately, perhaps she can find a path to Hawke and save Thedas at the same time, either from itself...or from a wolf. No matter the cost, no matter what it does to her, she must dig and scheme and fight for what is right.

Fen’Harel turns to her with a smile. “I cannot walk the lands as freely as you,” he responds, “and through the Inquisition, you can get close enough to Corypheus to steal back the orb.” He produces the round glowing image of the magical artifact between them again, its green glow reflecting off their skin and surging in their eyes. “You need to tell them what they want to hear, get back in their trust and work alongside the highly-ranked once again.”

“I’m in a cage.”

“Yet, you know what they want. Use them as they’ve used you.”

Or...use them all.

#In Love Serenity #abner #this one was so hard #i hope it works out #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dragon age fanfic #my fic #hope you enjoy it! #crossing all my fingers and toes that this doesn't fall flat #don't you wish that sometimes - after writing something - you could read through it like it's the first time? #i do! #shut up KT

[themostbritishamerican]

Shadowhunters Season 2 Episode 9 Thoughts- Notes

I hope Clary dies honestly

We're gonna have Malec drama. I don't want this

-

EW EW EW EW

THIS IS DISGUSTING

IM SO DISGUSTED

THIS IS NOT WHAT I WANT

OMG UGH

SIMON'S ABS YAS

THIS IS AWFUL BUT ALBERTO'S ABS LOOK SO NICE

OMFG JACE

IM LITERALLY SCREAMING OMG

CLARY'S DYING GUYS

MALEC OMG

ALEC CARES SO MUCH ABOUT HIM OMFG

MAGNUS NO

"If things ever get that bad… just tell me okay?" IM LITERALLY FUCKING CRYING OMG THIS IS EVERYTHING I WANTED!! I WANTED A HEART TO HEART ABOUT THIS SO BAD LIFE IS SO GOOD!!

JACE WTF

I FUCKING HATE JACE FOR DOING THIS WHY DOES HE DO THIS?!

CLARY CAN DIE

IZZY IS NOT OKAY

FUCK YOU ALDERTREE

OMG NO

IS HE HITTING ON HER

I AM DISGUSTED I WANNA THROW UP

OMG HE'S FORCING HER I WANNA DIE THIS IS DISGUSTING

YEAH LUKE THIS IS NOT YOUR FAULT CLARY IS JUST FUCKING STUPID

"What skills" DAMN BURN FUCKING TRUE THOUGH

"I need him" NO YOU DONT HE A SCRUB

What the fuck is this werewolf doing

SIMON'S A DAYLIGHTER WHY IS HE BURNING DID THEY WRITE THAT OUT OF HIS CHARACTER?! DID THEY REALLY DO THAT?!

Since when does Clary already have training

OH SHIT IT MAIA BUT WHY?!

-

Omg Maia you're being stupid

Clary's not gonna touch it

I'm with Maia that she SHOULD die but she doesn't HAVE to

That sorry sounds so fake Maia shut up

LUKE IS SUCH A GOOD DAD I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

Shut the fuck up Simon you can't do shit 😂

"Who does he think is driving" I love Simon 😂

Dot is such a good person but oh so stupid

You can't teach a child complex magic they can barely talk

Alec is suspicious and his suspicions are right

Aldertree is disgusting and can choke

IZZY AND RAPHAEL MAKE ME WANT TO DIE

I AM SO DISGUSTED

I DONT SHIP THEM AT ALL UGGGHHHH I HATE THIS SO MUCH

RAPHAEL VISTIS AND COOKS FOR HIS BABY SISTER THAT CANT REMEMBER HIM MY FUCKING BABY WHY DOES SIMON HATE HIM SO MUCH RAPHAEL IS SUCH A GOOD GUY FUCK SIMON

OMG NO WHY DOES IZZY HAVE TO BE THE ONLY ONE THAT KNOWS THIS

IZZY STOP DOING THIS TO HIM THIS IS SO FUCKED UP

THIS RELATIONSHIP IS SO UNHEALTHY I HATE IT

Maia's being irrational and so is Luke

Are we gonna get backstory to why she's claustrophobic? Is it because of Jordan?

I feel bad for her and I don't think Luke needs to do this but what Maia did was fucking stupid

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Simon is crazy why is he talking to that guy

Wow that was a nice jacket fuck you Simon

I'm not liking Simon too much anymore

Jace is right this is too easy

I'm liking Jace

I'm with Jace- you gotta kill Clary if it comes to it. Thank god Jace isn't a little bitch

MELIORN!!

"But sadly I'm incapable of lying" FUCKING SAVAGE

Everyone wants to kill Clary omg

This council is biased

Anytime Raphael and Izzy are brought up I literally get sick

Raphael doesn't think they should kill Clary he just has to say that so he doesn't look weak

Omg Jace just needs to do this one thing Simon DO SOMETHING USEFUL FOR ONCE

SIMON IS SO FUCKING USELESS UGH WHY IS HE HERE

I feel bad for Maia but I also don't really care

That turning scene would've been cooler if her eyes were normal then the fan covered the light and the suddenly change to green

Of course she's wolfing out she's scared!

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You guys aren't safe anywhere, cmon Simon!

Clary's obviously not gonna die but I really wouldn't care too much if she did

Fuck Fault In Our Stars that story was shit (I love John Green but no, hate that book)

They're trying to make me care but I really don't care about this relationship at all

I don't even really care about Simon or Clary

Oh god Malec

Magnus really didn't know so this isn't his fault

That trick was cool Madzie

JACE FOUND THEM

Haha you're fucked Valentine

Ooh Jace's lying is impeccable I really love his character now

ALEC NEEDS TO CALM THE FUCK DOWN I GET IT BUT FUCKING STOP

RAPHAEL "FEELS SOMETHING" FOR HER??? I AM LITERALLY SO UPSET BY THIS I AM CRYING I AM CRYING LITERAL TEARS SO ANGER IM SO FUCKING PISSED OFF

MAGNUS IS LITERALLY THE ONLY CHARACTER I LIKE RIGHT NOW

THIS IS NOT HIS FAULT ALEC STOP IT

MAGNUS STOPPING ALEC WHILST STILL BEING DISAPPOINTED IN RAPHAEL IS THE ONLY THING THATS MAKING THINGS OKAY

HE REALISES BOTH PARTIES ARE WRONG

THIS IS WHY I LOVE HIM

I FUCKING HATE IZZY RIGHT NOW SHES BEING FUCKING STUPID

Is she finally dying?

Ayyyeee Jace is here!

Madzie did it!

DO THEY WANT ME TO SHIP JIMON NOW?! UGH WTF

HAHA Madzie is smart she took Clary go Madzie!

-

I don't really care about Clary

Simon's freaking out again

"He's in Valentine's circle" circle sounded really British

Simon's finally FUCKING DOING SOMETHING THANK GOD

It's not very useful as someone can't answer if they're continuously being punched but it's a start

Aye Luke!

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Wtf did Maia do

Don't leave Simon alone he can't do shit

ALDERTREE WTF ARE YOU DOING

OMG ALEC IS BEING SUCH A DOM I LOVE IT

GO ALEC YES IM SO HAPPY

FUCKING YES LETS GO BE IN CHARGE

YEAH GET FUCKED ALDERTREE

ALEC'S SMIRK SAVED THIS WHOLE EPISODE

Madzie is so strong omg

OMG HE HAS SIMON WHAT A FUCKING IDIOT

I only care about him like 20%. I care about him about as much as I cared about Jace when he was taken. This is such a mirror

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WINTER FINALE NOOOO

Okay, Magnus and Alec kiss and makeup it's all okay

This was my least favourite episode. It was good in the fact that I FELT things (albeit not good things but bad is better than nothing). But bad in the fact that all the characters I used to love I now hate. But that Malec talk at the beginning was everything.

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