#dirus fic

“Hello Corporal Sully, if you’re watching this, that’s because I’m dead.” Jake frowned, holding the tablet with a hand, sitting on an avatar-sized chair, Colonel Miles Quaritch talking to him. “Your memories may be blurry from what I’m told, but they have been copied from your last transfer in your avatar, before you decided to betray us all.” Wait. Time out. What? “You are now a recombinant, corporal; the only reason the powers deemed reasonable to bring you back despite your treason is because of your knowledge on the Na’vi. You will obey to Colonel Quaritch. If you fail, you’re dead.” [...] ‘Still causing trouble, Jake?’ His mother’s voice sounded far away but close at the same time. He hadn’t thought of her in years. Or well, the other Jake hadn’t. ‘Guess I still do, Mom.’ 

New York was more than ready to get the fuck away for the whole week. His beanie was on his head, his rats fed and NYC was well aware of what would happen to him is any harm was done to the rodents. [...] New York raised his hand to snap, retractable walking sticks in the other hand, when he felt it.

"Wegman sucks butt!"

You left me here behind; do you not care? (How the fuck am I supposed to carry on without you here?)

Warnings : It's not a happy story.

Summary:

He almost jumps at the sound as his dog, Lud, barks in surprise. Henryk quickly stands, moving to answer his door, and nearly gapes at the sight.

Magda looks up to him, her bluish lips shaking.

“Oh, little duck,” he says softly, quickly ushering her inside. He corrals her to the chimney side; she’s shaking like a leaf. “Why are you outside?”

“Papa said I was bad,” she quietly answers, and Henryk hisses between his teeth. “Said I had to sleep in the barn until I was good again… but last time I was good only after a week, and I’m so cold, Sir Henryk.”

This is sad. Like really, really sad. Inspired by Shireen Baratheon's death in GOT, just so y'all know. Major Child Death, child abuse and grief.

Author notes:

Inspired by New-Made Gold To Give You by @inexplicifics

Alright; so I watched a video of Davos's anger towards Melisandre about Shireen's death, and hated that she got off way too nicely, so I wrote this.

It ended up way longer than it was supposed to be, and I've been working on it for a week, so I'm glad I got the angst out of my system.

This is not a happy fic. There is fluff, and parental feels, but it's sad.

Why did it all go wrong? (I wanna know what's going on)

Cause the main pairing (which was NOT supposed to happen, my brain just went HO THEY'RE CUTE and i lost control) can't end up together. Either one has to kill the other, or the one supposed to die will die in the MC arms, and maybe even get mercy kill for it (while admitting his feelings and saying he would have agree to be with the MC even if it meant betraying the others, like the MC HAVE to do; so they would have been able to be together!)

And i got my friend laughing a little at me cause, you know im the author, and i should be able to change the story

BUT I CANT CONTROL THEM CAUSE THE STORY WAS DECIDED BEFORE I WROTE IT AND I CAN'T CHANGE IT NOW

MY BRAIN IS NOT LISTENING TO ME

Anyway, i'll be crying in a corner if anyone needs me

summary:

I did a thing.

Summary:

<You are coming with me,> Caraxes rumbled, letting a new whistling, high pitched roar to the rest of the room, making everyone take a step back, before he carefully reached the King, opening his mouth. “Your Grace!!” Some people screamed in terror, and Viserys tilted his head, gaze curious. Caraxes send him a wave of Dreamfyre’s magic to share his intention and some of his healing ability, absently hearing his Muña’s bonded gasping from afar, and the King eye cleared up. Caraxes opened his jaw wider, feeling the man hold his teeth as he carefully got on his tongue, which he raised to allow him to sit like on a chair, the man carefully balancing himself at the very tip of his mouth. “Viserys, what are you doing?!” Rhaenys yelled over the gasps and screams of the man around them, and Caraxes met Daemon stunned and half terrified gaze. Viserys kept hold of his lower lip to not fall, and Caraxes carefully, gently, retreated to the widow.