If Italians can't make it, who can?

Italian writer who got back into this Fandom and found an old treasure of her childhood. Official account: isa_denari7 I'm Italian, perfect English is not granted.

[shadowthestoryteller]

Tintin is, and will forever be, a trolling little shit

[backtomyfirstfandom]

I absolutely ADORE the way he replied to it.

He knew what Sakharine was searching for, he made sure his knowledge about it was known, then just stared into the eyes of his kidnapper as if he was comfortably sitting on his armchair at home and went:

✨I don't have it✨

[backtomyfirstfandom]

Tintin and the Secret of the Unicorn alternative scene

Let's just ignore the fact that I have tons of other things to write, thank you.

Check this post for context.

∆

Characters and events of the epical tales his grandfather used to tell him manifested in front of his eyes as Sakharine walked down the crane arm with misplaced elegance. Red Rackham and Sakharine seemed to become one, mixing up like two different fumes, a single person that came back from afterlife and a remote past to take revenge on whatever was left of the Haddocks.

- Who gave you permission to board my ship? - Haddock growled as he painfully stood up to face Sakharine's advancing form (sword ready in the right hand).

- I don't need it - the man retorted, cold politeness in his voice - I've never needed it -

A scene like that had already occurred in history, somewhere where the only witnesses had been the victims of such events and the ones who thought they had win and celebrated too early; they both knew how it had ended: a complete disaster in which everyone had lost everything and had gotten out of it defeated. But because humans like to pretend (or believe) that they hold their destiny in their hands, both Sakharine and Haddock fooled themselves into hoping that things would have turned to one of them's favour.

Sakharine needed to mend the steps his ancestor had failed, while Haddock needed to make up a lot of ground.

They threw themselves towards eachother with swords thirsty for blood, one defending a treasure he had been searching for decades, the other fighting to get it back.

Their bodies were betraying the old tails they had been told time after time, forced to follow a script that would make them justice; they were not Red Rackham and Francis De Haddock, those were other times for other people, other people that brought their ancestor's better qualities but lacked of others, though they were still facing an old divergence between two people.

As Haddock threw the first bottle of whiskey, Sakharine should have probably cried in pain at the glass shattering against his back, but he could only turn around with an astonished expression as he tried to process whatever had occurred to him, expression that didn't leave him even as he lifted the sword to aim at the second bottle (his muscular memory doing the job for him). He took bottle after bottle with meticulous precision, too focused on the current concern to worry about the irregularities of the ground on which he was backing, falling back as his feet failed to find the ground.

Due to the frantic motion he broke in in order to attempt at keeping his balance, the parchments escaped from the pocket of his jacket, flying in the air before Haddock flinched forward to collect them. He gave himself time just to give them a quick glance, already smiling victoriously, but prepared himself for another attack right after as he raised his sword and backed up of a few steps, knowing Sakharine was as stubborn as him.

As thought, the man jumped back on his feet with an irritated glare, this time holding a loaded gun.

- Let's not become uncivil, Haddock - Sakharine said as he stepped forward - Give them back -

- Over my dead body - Haddock replied, feeling his body burning at the presence of the gun aimed at him, but put the parchments in the pocket of his trousers.

Both the men looked like they were about to add more to their words, however the clicking sound of metal distracted them: they turned around just in time to witness Tintin throwing himself at them as he held on a rope, Sakharine acting on mere instinct when he focused on a new target and pulled the trigger.

The shot was the only sound that filled the moment in which Tintin lost the grip on the rope and was left to tumble on the ground.

∆

After centuries since their horrendous loss, they were all too busy trying to mend on their mistakes to actually notice that they were following the same pattern that had left Haddock and Sakharine dry mouthed. Most of all, it was Tintin who was completely unaware that he had learnt less than nothing from his previous attempt (much less he knew that he had actually been there as well).

If Haddock had learnt something about him during those days it certainly was that the lad could be as stubborn as brave; which meant he would have gotten himself killed rather than giving up.

Horror took place in his expression when he witnessed Tintin rolling on the ground without a scream, the sight fading before his eyes as an ancient (but certainly not less familiar) version of the scene replaced it: now the setting was a ship and Tintin was not laying on a concrete floor, but rather being pulled back on his feet by a rough man right after his disastrous fall.

- Why would I waste on Rhum, tobacco, molasses and dates when you have a more valuable cargo on board? Where is it? - were Red Rackham's words as Haddock was being tied to the foremast of the Unicorn.

The ship was haunted by pirates, any of them taking the upper hand and making the entire scene so confusing and chaotic to prevent Haddock from noticing the way they were threatening the thing that was the dearest thing in the world to him.

- You'll have to kill me first - came Haddock's bold answer, the sassy smile on his face dying after two pirates moved to the wave of Rackham's sword.

- The lad will come first. And then your men -

Roughly dragged over the deck, a young redhead made a stand to the men that had a hold on his hair and neck. Such a young man had succeeded to be as stubborn in every life he had ever lived, getting himself in equal danger every time.

He limped painfully, his face contorting in a grimace with every step, and had his hands tied behind his back.

The name of Tintin's ancestor had been unknown to anyone who had ever been told or transmitted the tales of the Unicorn, as unknown as the relationship that Haddock had with the lad (was he more like a son or a brother? Or maybe a lover? Anyone who had the answer might have gotten a conspicuous reward, given the interest for the information).

But what had survived the hunger of time was the fact that he was a native french speaker and that he had been promoted from cabin boy to navigator after his first journey under Haddock's command; he was a brilliant man who had surprised everyone with his unexpected knowledge of the sea when the previous navigator had fallen sick (and subsequently perished) during the crossing of a pirate territory, leading everyone to safety.

That was his third journey on the ship.

He was stubborn and dangerously feral when angry, characteristic due to which he spit the blood that had gathered in his mouth right towards Rackham once they were facing eachother. He would have made a perfect pirate.

Haddock would have done anything for the lad (a detail that was well known to anyone who knew the full story), and it was with fear of anything happening to him that he led Rackham to the secret cargo, trusting the promise of an unfair man.

In front of the group gathered into the cabin the floor opened to reveal a blinding amount of gold and jewels, Rackham checking it with a satisfied grin. He could have taken anything he wanted, leave the ship without a single coin for what Haddock could care: his sight and full attention was aimed at Tintin's persona, still restrained by the strong grip of two pirates.

Rackham re-emerged nonchalantly (just as he had taken the first step on the ship) and for a moment Haddock let himself believe that that nightmare of a day had finally come to an end.

However, Rackham took a wider step and his sword sank into Tintin's torso. The world went noiseless for the next few seconds, the lad not even getting himself to scream as the pain had cut all the oxygen from his lungs.

- Kill his men! -

- Rackham, you gave me your word! - Haddock cried out as the sounds crashed on him all at once.

His men screaming for help on the deck, Rackham's sword escaping the flesh, Tintin's sharp gasp and the sound his shoes made as they were forcing him to walk to the door was enough to have Haddock snapping out of his trance and flinch forward; he was held back right before he could reach for Tintin, struggling against whoever was holding him still while he couldn't take his eyes off of the lad's blood streaming copiously from the wound.

- Don't take him away! - Haddock pleaded, but they didn't stop - Let me hold him as he dies! It's all I ask! -

Rackham had his man stop once Tintin had managed one single step on the stairs to the deck, his legs looking like jelly and face way too pale.

- On your knees, cur - Rackham ordered, the lad behind him look like he needed to throw up his entire soul as his senses were leaving him as fast as his blood.

Not able to care about his pride or reputation, Haddock knelt on the ground with no second thoughts, looking up at the pirate.

- I beg you: let him be in friendly arms as he dies - Haddock cried, tears forming into his eyes at Rackham's cold stare.

Pirates weren't known for their good and soft heart, of which most of them completely lacked, but there was no reason in being further cruel (if not for personal enjoyment) and Rackham knew that. The ship was theirs, the last member of Haddock's crew had just been tossed into the cold and dark sea, and there was no way that lad would have made it to any land or ship that would have coincidentally showed for help.

Pirates were known for taking it easy when there was no reason to get stressed out.

After Rackham's wave of his sword Tintin was tossed back into the middle of the cabin, his legs abandoning him as he was no more able to sustain himself even as he tried, but Haddock was there to catch him, quick enough that the lad didn't have the chance to hurt himself any further.

- Take your time: none of you is going anywhere - and with these words, Rackham and his men were back outside, locking the door shut.

Tintin was limp in Haddock's arms, his eyes closed, face pressed against his side and shirt stained in blood to the point it was easy to the captain to fear the lad had left him in the moment he had sunk into his arms; however, the way he weakly went to press on his bleeding wound after Haddock freed his hands told him that he was still with the mortals.

- I guess you were right when you said I would have gotten myself killed one day - the lad chuckled, an amused smile spreading on his lips when Haddock went to caress his cheek.

It was nothing more than a whisper, impossible to hear to anyone who wasn't as close as they were in that moment, and the soft tone of his painful voice was enough to have Haddock break into a watery laugh.

Tintin had always been like that: sassy and strong til the end, even when any other man would have fallen into desperation.

- What were you trying to do? - Haddock questioned him in fondness, remembering seeing him flying around the ship holding to a piece of rope.

- In my defense I can say I shot a couple of men that were going for your back -

- You should have left your courage home when we sailed -

- We wouldn't have made it this far -

- We would have made it even farther -

- I'd be swimming with the crew if that had been the case - Tintin affirmed, the voice of truth - But you will make it farther -

- And how's that? -

- You're an Haddock: you always have a plan -

And then the lad opened his eyes, looking up at the captain with his cold, blue stare. The look remained strong and peaceful for a moment as he happily rested in his captain's arms, cracking into a terrified one as tears spread into his eyes.

- I don't wanna go - he sobbed.

And suddenly the blood was too much: it was staining their clothes, the floor, their hands, soaked into Haddock's memory as he forced himself to not burst out crying right there; he wanted the lad to die peacefully, feeling safe and protected by him one last time (after all the times Tintin had protected his captain).

- Are you afraid? - Haddock asked, a very stupid question.

Tintin nodded and a sob caused him to groan in pain.

- It's going to be okay. I promise - Haddock whispered, drying every tear that streamed from the lad's eyes.

But how could he know? As far, none of the men he had lost at sea had come back to tell him that it in fact got better after his body was freed from the pain.

- We will meet again, okay? - Tintin muttered, voice thick with tears - And this time I won't die -

- I'll make sure you won't. It's a promise -

The lad gave one last sob before closing his eyes and surrendering at the invisible force taking his soul by hand and guiding it out of his body (as the tales told). He died a few moments later, tears still streaming down his wet cheeks.

∆

Tintin cried out in the concrete as the pain was too much to play it cool and just deal with it; squeezing his eyes shut but preserving the lucidity that accompanied even the worst of his moments, he went to press on the shot wound on his right knee, trying to keep the blood from streaming freely and his hands flinching when he only caused himself more pain.

He bit his lip in the hope of keeping his composure, and what came out of his mouth was reduced to an incoherent screeching while his shaky hands still tried to keep the blood inside the knee. The pain the lad was feeling rushed through Haddock's body just by looking at the way he was struggling with the damage caused by the bullet.

The captain flinched forward as soon as Tintin gave the first scream, but Sakharine had been way faster as he reached the lad first, pointing the gun at Haddock.

- Stay the fuck away from him! - the captain snapped, unable to step further.

Sakharine grasped Tintin's hair as if Haddock hadn't even spoke, gaining a loud curse in German and blood spit on his suit. The hard slap that followed the gesture was enough for Haddock to have a reason to risk his own life and step forward, freezing once again when Sakharine pointed the gun against the lad's forehead.

For the first time since they'd met, Tintin drew a sharp gasp at feeling his life in danger and squeezed his eyes as tears (whether due to pain or fear) started streaming from his eyes.

- Another heroic gesture from you two and he dies - Sakharine warned them as he yanked Tintin up by the fistful of hair he held.

The lad groaned in pain (a guttural noise that resounded in his throat), his neck kept bent backwards and unable to keep the pressure on his wound.

- I'm getting sick of this story: it has been going on for way too long - Sakharine continued.

- I'll do anything you want - Haddock quickly answered, noting the way Tintin's breath fastened the more he stood.

- We've learnt something from last time -

- What the fuck is that supposed to mean? - Tintin muttered in a feral rage given by the mixture of fear and pain.

It was an unconscious self-defence mechanism: if attacked, strike back with twice the strength.

- Didn't remember speaking to you -

- I speak whenever I want, thank you - Tintin snapped in response, his boldness buying him a kick in his injured knee.

The lad attempted to curl up on himself when his leg bent at an uncomfortable angle, biting his lips but not managing to keep himself from crying out a curse. He would have fallen to the ground if he wasn't being held on his feet against his will.

- Let him go! - Haddock pleaded, instinctively covering his ears at how painful and broken Tintin's voice sounded.

- Give me the parchments, Haddock, and you won't repeat the same error again! -

Way faster that what his pride would have normally allowed him, the captain drew the parchments out of his pocket and let Sakharine step forward to grab them itself. The man took a moment to inspect what he had been handed, doing the mistake of lowering the gun: wherever he had collected all of that energy and courage, Tintin turned into the grip and threw a fist in the middle of Sakharine's face.

The man stumbled back and Tintin fell to the ground with a groan when nothing was holding him on his feet anymore. Haddock was by his side right when the lad was dangerously trying to stand once again, arms trembling as they couldn't support him anymore.

- What were you trying to do? - Haddock questioned him, drawing Tintin to his chest to give him something to lean on as he sat.

- I can't let him get the treasure - the lad groaned, going to apply pressure on the wound.

Haddock pulled his hands back from the injury as he needed to get a look at the knee himself to note how serious it was: the bullet had entered on the external side of the knee, and the kick served to only make everything worse as the leg was now sitting in an angle it should have never had.

He wasn't a doctor but he could tell how painful and not well it was.

- Screw the treasure - Haddock snapped, pressing an handkerchief on the wound.

- What? -

- I said: screw the treasure! I can't lose you again! -

- And what is that..? -

The two froze at hearing a metallic click at their back, and found Sakharine back on his feet and point the gun at them.

- That, my dear annoying boy, means we all were on the Unicorn - he answered before the question was even complete - Or at least our ancestors were -

Tintin aimed a confused look at Haddock.

- You threw your life away to protect your captain, just as you're doing in this exact moment. Apparently you're not smart enough to learn from your mistakes - Sakharine explained.

- I can't learn from something I don't remember - Tintin protested, flinching in Haddock's protective embrace as Sakharine leaned forward.

- Shut the fu..! - he shouted, but sighed in exasperation - You know what? I'm done. I'm just going to kill you both -

Tintin gave a shaky breath as he hid in Haddock's jumper, the captain curling up around the lad's figure in the hope of saving him another bullet.

- Hands up! -

The scene had needed an external help to exist its usual pattern, and that external help consisted in Nestor pointing a hunting rifle in Sakharine's direction while Dupond and Dupont handcuffed him (stopping him from being a public menace).

Tintin and Haddock sat still in their shock at having been just a few seconds from death, holding eachother in a choking embrace.

- Are you okay? - Haddock managed to ask.

- Ask me tomorrow - Tintin muttered, voice as shaky as his weak body.

The captain dropped a strong kiss to his read hair (way stronger than what was opportune at the moment) going back to hold him tight once again. The lad needed an hospital as soon as possible, but they were still alive and they would have stayed as such.

Haddock was still having an hard time at processing that piece of information.

[backtomyfirstfandom]

I watched Tintin and the Secret of the Unicorn yesterday and I remained disappointed in one scene. When Haddock was recalling the story of Francis De Haddock, there was a moment in which Red Rackham threatened De Haddock to kill the crew when he refused to give him the secret cargo (you know, the treasure).

And at that point I thought:

I saw Nestor

Who seemed to have a great connection of trust with Haddock (probably because he was the quartermaster)

(and maybe there was someone else I recognised but I can't tell)

Maybe there's going to be 1600s version of Tintin.

And then I was quite disappointed because there was nothing of such in that scene.

But now imagine if Haddock had a strong relationship (whether it's friendship, anything platonic, something romantic...) with Tintin's ancestor and Rackham using it to force Haddock to give him the treasure.

I think it would have been a very good trope.

However I adored Tintin's terrified and confused expression as he was holding at the table for dear life while Haddock was threatening him with a sword as he told the story.

[backtomyfirstfandom]

GUYS

THE MYSTERY HAS BEEN SOLVED

[backtomyfirstfandom]

Thanks to this, now I need to rewrite everything I've ever written.

[incoherent screeching]

[backtomyfirstfandom]

GUYS

THE MYSTERY HAS BEEN SOLVED

[backtomyfirstfandom]

I read my old Fanfiction chapters and I've decided to rewrite everything on ao3 because here it's just too messy and I'll make it better.

[backtomyfirstfandom]

Belgian Freelancers (a Tintin Fanfiction)

Chapter VI - Quis Fallere Possit Amantem?

The angst is becoming very real and we'll get the first physical appearance of Nestor (because I've always forgotten to give him an appearance, even though he's always been present).

Part five, four.

Prequel.

It was past lunch time and the situation had started becoming unpleasant and very concerning.

-Do you think he's in trouble? - Haddock had asked Nestor, while the butler was busy watering the flowers in order to spare them from an horrible death.

It was true that Moulinsart wasn't exactly near the city, also that Tintin couldn't have had many chances of alerting him of any delay on his part, but still Haddock hated having the sensation that his lover was in danger without being able to actually verify that.

His first thought at Tintin not coming home after a reasonable time didn't make it any better: he couldn't help but thinking about the prediction that Rosalia had made of his death over ten years before; the seaman was sure that somewhere out there there must have been a soldier with round glasses, but Rosalia was still in Italy and her presence had been assured in her prophecy. Still, Tintin had the habit of getting into unpleasant and questioning situations, so there was a chance that the worst had happened.

-Knowing Mr. Tintin, I hardly know the correct answer to your concern - Nestor admitted, moving his attention from the flowers to Haddock - But I do know that Tintin is very much capable of getting out of the worst of troubles -

Haddock had groaned as his only response, aware of Tintin's luck even into the most horrible of scenarios, but he would have gone out of said luck at some point.

-You should eat something - Nestor said, returning to watering the flowers - You haven't touched any food -

-I will in a moment, Nestor - Haddock replied, trying to not make it sound like an evident lie.

Nestor didn't bring up the argument about food again and Haddock had reduced himself to keep his worry silent, as he couldn't stop being anxious when Tintin didn't show up for another hour.

It was only at two in the afternoon that the captain heard am high-pitched bark coming from the distance that he left his anxious state for the sake of a more alert one, pacing quickly to the grate.

Snowy was very visible in the grass around the mansion, barking louder as it saw Haddock. The captain rushed towards Snowy as he didn't see Tintin behind him, his heartbeat going faster in terror at the missing presence of his lover. Only when he reached Snowy Haddock saw the reporter, walking disconsolate meters behind his dog with his eyes locked on the ground.

Haddock stopped where he was, taking a look at his lover and freezing as he saw him covered in cinder and blood; blood shouldn't have made him worry that much as the ginger was still very able to walk, but after a sharp gasp, the seaman returned to his run and approached his lover.

Seeing him getting closer, Tintin raised an arm to prevent the captain from touching him.

-Just a moment - he muttered, not raising his gaze from the grass.

Haddock froze again, confused by that behaviour.

-What's wrong? - he asked.

-I said: "Just give me a moment" - Tintin replied harshly, not stopping pacing towards the house.

-Tintin - Haddock called, grabbing his lover by his wrist.

The reporter raised his gaze finally, giving him a flaming and harsh look with his reddened eyes; half of his face was covered in blood (coming from a cut on his cheekbone) and the rest was sticky with dried alcohol. Haddok gently caressed the ginger's freckles with his free hand, sighing in relief as Tintin's expression relaxed and he eventually leaned in for a hug.

Contently returning the embrace and wrapping the reporter in his arms with a rather protective gesture, Haddock ran a hand through his ginger hair, noticing the way his breathing was calm and even.

- What happened, little mess? - the captain asked softly, not stopping caressing Tintin's hair even when he moved to rest his head on the seaman's shoulder.

- I was in a pub... -

- You got into a fight?! -

- Captain, please: let me finish... - Tintin grumbled in a sigh - A group of people set a pub on fire and I happened to be in there -

Haddock froze at the information, pulling away from the embrace just enough to take a closer look at Tintin's injuries.

- Are you burnt? - the captain quickly asked.

- No, I fell on a table...kind of - Tintin muttered, letting Haddock examine his cheekbone.

- Damn punks - Haddock groaned, pressing a kiss to the ginger's forehead.

- They were professionals: they wanted to kill the Nazis in the place -

- What were you doing in a Nazi pub? - Haddock asked, checking on Tintin's arm.

The captain didn't notice the lack of response from the reporter as he was too busy taking a look at the bloody skin, holding the arm with the softest touch his big hands could manage; the arm was cut in various places, the cuts looking sharp and rather neat. The blood had dried while Tintin walked back home, but not before it streamed down to the hand til the fingertips.

Noticing how the ginger was taking a while to answer, the seaman raised his gaze to look at him, inciting him to go on.

- I saw my brother - Tintin revealed, looking at anything but Haddock's eyes.

- He's not a Nazi, right? -

- No, no. But I followed him inside -

Haddock knew something about Tintin's brother: he knew his name, an approximate age and that he had fought in the first World War; that was all he knew and all that Tintin had ever told him after years.

-Is he okay, though? - Haddock asked, hissing in sympathy as he kept checking on the ginger's arm and noticed a few tiny glass splinters.

-Yes, he's very okay, He helped me out -

Groaning in response and wrapping an arm around the reporter, Haddock led his lover to the house, Snowy obediently following them.

-Now you need to get cleaned and eat something - the captain demanded.

-I'm sorry I snapped at you - Tintin muttered, searching through his bag.

-Don't worry -

-I bought these for the kids - the reporter said, showing Haddock the necklaces - I had bought something for you too but I lost it in the fire -

Haddock looked at him softly after the discouraged sigh that his lover gave, understanding how he had put effort into searching for something that the seaman would have liked and was now really devastated about the fact that he had lost such an important thing.

-Thank you, whatever that thing was - Haddock murmured, pressing a kiss to Tintin's temple.

-I can't tell you: it's a surprise -

-But it's lost anyway - the captain replied softly, knowing by the smile that the ginger showed that he wasn't going to give up on the fact that he had lost that object in the fire.

-Maybe I'll find it through the rubble -

-But first, you need to let yourself be cared for - Haddock demanded, smiling softly as he noticed Tintin's mischievous grin.

-

Half an hour later, Tintin was finally clean and relaxed, sitting on a stool in his loose bathrobe and still wet from a bath. His arm had been freed from the few splinters that had cut the skin, and was now being bandaged by Nestor and Haddock (even if Nestor was actually trying to prevent the captain from doing a mess or causing Tintin even more suffering due to applying the bandage too tightly).

Through the process, the reporter occasionally hissed as the cuts burned under the two men's operation, looking at Snowy chilling under a sunbeam that entered the room through the open window of the bathroom.

-Thank you - Tintin said with a smile, taking a long sip from the glass of water he held.

-It's a pleasure - Nestor replied, checking that the plaster on Tintin's cheekbone was still attached to the skin.

Tintin took another sip of water as soon as the butler moved away to go and grab the wet towel that was hanging on the border of the bathtub.

-The kids absolutely loved the necklaces - Haddock whispered to the reporter, looking at him with an enamoured expression as he saw his face light up with joy.

-Really? - Tintin asked, with a bright smile.

-Absolutely - Haddock assured him, going to press a kiss to the corner of the ginger's lips as he was sure that Nestor couldn't see it.

However, the captain had to move away (leaving Tintin to blush) when the butler turned around again after hanging the towel to dry.

-I'll be downstairs if you need something - Nestor informed them, giving them a knowing look that made Tintin smile in embarrassment every time.

The two watched the butler walk out of the room and close the door behind himself; as Nestor went out of sight, they listened to his steps getting farther and farther, Tintin wearing that embarrassed smile while Haddock showed an horrified expression.

-He knows, doesn't he? - Haddock grumbled as soon as the steps didn't come to their ears anymore.

-Of course he knows - Tintin answered, finishing his glass of water.

-But I've been so careful about it! - Haddock protested.

-Love, we share the same bed, didn't have a female love interested in years...well, I never did, and I'm pretty sure that the way we look at eachother says it all -

Haddock nodded as he understood that Tintin was right, looking in front of himself before turning towards the reporter's still young face, wherewith the ginger was looking at him softly.

-But I've been so careful about it! - the captain repeated and Tintin burst out laughing.

-I know you've been, captain - he replied, leaning over to leave a light kiss on the seaman's cheek.

After his grumpy expression turned into a very pleased one, Haddock turned to wrap an arm around Tintin and kiss him, the reporter humming in surprise but not missing the chance to arch closer and wrap his arms around the sailor's neck. The kiss deepened quickly, the two nipping and sucking eachother's lips, and Tintin sighed happily when he felt Haddock's hands wander over his back; however, when the seaman slipped a hand under the bathrobe, moving the cloth and exposing the ginger's hip as he did so, the reporter grew alarmed by the gesture, pulling away from Haddock's lips immediately.

-Please, stop - he demanded strongly, grabbing Haddock's arm.

The seaman, hearing his lover's protest, put the fabric of the bathrobe back into its original place and quickly moved his gaze from the pale and smooth skin that he always grew hungry for.

-I'm sorry I keep forcing you to wait - Tintin muttered, getting up to rest the empty glass on the sink, adjusting his bathrobe as he was facing the green wall.

Looking at his lover untying the bathrobe to then wrap it around his athletic body again, Haddock wore a starving expression (as he felt blood converging in one specific zone), forcing himself to change it for something softer as he approached the reporter.

- No, I understand -

Tintin turned to face him with a frown, crossing his arms at stomach height.

- Do you? -

- I'm pretty sure you have a fantastic body - Haddock started, grinning happily as Tintin chuckled softly - but it's yours and I totally understand if you don't want to show it -

- Don't get me wrong, I'd like to show you...but it's like...as if this body was new and nobody had touched it yet - the reporter attempted to explain.

- Yes, this body is new and you're still trying to feel fully comfortable in it - Haddock agreed, cupping Tintin's cheek in his hand and caressing it as the reporter leaned into his palm - And when you'll be ready, I'll be glad to compliment and kiss every bit of it - he whispered.

Tintin found himself smiling brightly, hiding his blushing cheeks with his hands as he started giggling.

- You don't get to grow shy now - Haddock protested as he laughed, placing his hands on Tintin's hips.

The reporter stayed like that a few seconds more, peeking through his thin fingers to then expose his scarlet cheeks again, not being able to contain the smile on his face.

- You're the best, mon capitaine - Tintin giggled in French.

- You become even sweeter when you speak this language - Haddock affirmed, resting their foreheads together.

Both with closed eyes and arms wrapped around eachother, they stayed like that into the bathroom, not needing to share more words as Tintin's occasional chuckling and Haddock's smiling were more than enough.

-

The next day, unlike the previous, had a rather cloudy afternoon, with dark and huge clouds that threatened rain at every moment.

Nothing stopped the kids from playing outside, totally uncaring about the possible change of weather as they wandered over the garden chasing for those few insects that weren't concerned about the rain.

It had been with the first loud thunder that Haddock had gone outside to call the kids back inside, fearing that they might have gotten wet of they had kept playing in the grass. Picking up the ball that the children had forgotten as they had rushed inside, the captain noticed a shadow behind himself, turning around to find Tintin and Snowy.

The reporter was wearing his trench coat well buttoned up and carried his leather bag, giving Haddock that unsure expression he wore every time he needed to do something he was sure the seaman wouldn't have approved.

- Where are you going? - Haddock asked confused.

- To find what I've lost - Tintin answered calmly, taking a moment to fix the plaster on his cheekbone.

- You could wait a few hours: it's about to rain -

- No, I prefer to go now: what if it starts raining and it doesn't stop any soon? -

Haddock looked at him unsurely, puffing in the realisation that he couldn't stop Tintin from doing whatever he had in mind; he smiled softly as he nodded.

- Okay, lad. But be careful -

- Always, captain - Tintin replied with a bright smile, leaving a quick peck on Haddock's cheek before walking past him.

The captain looked as the ginger paced to the gates, Snowy right after him. He still was quite nervous about the reporter going back to town after the incident in the pub, but without Rosalia's presence he knew he didn't have to worry much, and so he let his lover go, optimistic about everything going for the better this time.

However, his hope collapsed in the moment he saw Snowy sitting right outside the gate, not even attempting to follow its owner.

-

The pub stood ashed and grizzled, reduced to the ghost of what it had once been; the flames had spread to the upper floor through the open windows, but leaving no more damage than just harming the paint of the building, and the structure looked like it didn't menace to collapse, but simply had been left offended by what that group of people had done: just like an old man whose eyes had seen what the world is capable of, it didn't let itself being defeated by some punks that had used it as a cage to burn some Nazis; it clearly was too stubborn to collapse at something like that.

What had been left of glasses and bottles cracked under Tintin's shoes like frozen grass, making the floor slippy and unsteady at times. He had gotten inside with the permission of Dupont and Dupond, who were both helping him searching for the rings he had lost.

Checking under the flipped tables, shards, fragments and cinder none of them found anything (not even the empty box that would have at least given Tintin the knowledge that those rings had been lost in there).

- Nothing - the ginger noticed desolate as he dropped the umpteenth piece of wood to the ground.

- Same here, Tintin - the twins replied, moving a table back into its original place.

With a loud puff, the reporter climbed on a stool at the counter and let himself fall on it, not caring about the cinder on his clothes.

- Were you in a hurry to give it to him? - Dupont asked.

At the question, Tintin nodded but the shrugged, thinking about how he might have been able to lose those rings.

- I wouldn't say in a hurry, but I would have liked to give it to him soon - the reporter grumbled.

- We could make some more researches on our own. Maybe we'll find it - Dupond suggested and Tintin smiled softly.

- That would be very lovely -

Jumping off of the counter, Tintin noticed a way too familiar figure walking past the window of the pub, too quick to catch it properly with the eyes, but characterised by a so colourful green and orange skirt to catch Tintin's attention immediately.

- Thank you for your help - the reporter quickly told Dupont and Dupond, giving them a soft smile - but I'm afraid I need to go now -

- It was a pleasure - the two responded and Tintin was already heading for the door.

He followed the figure he had seen through the crowd in the square, having to physically move people out of his way with irritated manners to not lose sight of the skirt; the same woman he had met the day before stopped and gave a glance behind herself, continuing her march way faster than before as she head in an hallway with Tintin on her heels.

On his way to turn into the hallway, the reporter stumbled into a person, almost tripping on his steps.

-Watch out, kid! -

-I'm fucking over my thirties! - Tintin shouted back, only to then realise (once he turned back) that he had no idea where the girl had gone.

He proceeded carefully, listening for every sound aside the chatting of people, stopping in the middle of the street as the girl seemed to have disappeared into the void. It was only a hand pressed against his lips that prevented him from yelling, and then he was slammed against the nearest wall.

-Why are you following me? - the girl murmured with irritation, her face just a few centimeters from Tintin's.

-Because you look rather suspicious - the reporter whispered in response, both of them freezing when they heard steps coming in their direction.

-Shut the fuck up - she snapped in an even lower tone, dragging him to a back door.

She slammed it open and threw Tintin inside, who tumbled to the ground and managed to sit up right before the girl rolled up the sleeves of her shirt and walked towards the person that had followed them with bellicose steps.

-

Okay, sorry for the horrible ending and the way I disappeared. I promise I'll make it to you in the next chapter.

[fanficmemes]

Oh so ur a writer?? Prove it. Drop the last sentence of ur wip in the tags

[greatsnakestintin]

right so Haddock is scottish right?? so britain does not get above 15° in the very depths of summer and this might be me projecting because of this heatwave but Archibald Haddock cannot handle heat or humidity, we see it when they’re in the desert, it’s a disaster, his hair poofs out, he’s delirious, he can’t think and more often than not ends up sticking his head in the fridge while tintin, the little shit, is prancing about in his swimsuit loving every second of the heat and then complains later that he’s sunburnt

[dimdiamond]

@greatsnakestintin @lilyfarseer you guys gave me life with how miserably funny they are in their little domestic lifestyle.

[lilyfarseer]

@dimdiamond​ I would like to remind you first and foremost, you introduced me to @greatsnakestintin​ so this was your fault :P

Also, if you’ve never shared a bed with those big gel ice packs in the summer, you’re missing out, especially when you’re the person who is pretty okay with heat and your partner is the one not. I had this guy spend the night for a week and he had to be packed with ice packs, I kid you not, and we decided our sleeping habits were imminently incompatible because the ice packs kept giving me weird dreams (and I struggle to sleep with other people). 

I have used the ice packs to cool my bed down faster if I (somehow) manage to overheat in bed. :D 

[dimdiamond]

ASDFVGGVVBHBB

No I haven't but damn new dynamic dropped

Are you the swimsuit prancer or the ice packs sleeper?

I think I am heat tolerate enough to not use ice packs but wouldn't run around in swimsuit.

[backtomyfirstfandom]

I usually say that I'm totally Haddock, but this time I have no idea.

I HATE high temperatures because I can't breath in humidity and I usually feel sick and almost pass out very quickly; I adore when during summer there are these huge winds and storms because the air is fresh, but I also don't like cold because my limbs absorbe cold immediately.

On the other hand, I don't dislike summer. When it's hot I go around basically naked (my mum complains about me not wearing a bra under my tank tops) and I constantly complain about sunburn because my skin can't bear sun (it either gets burnt or stays pale). But I can sleep in my hot room (the hottest room of the house) with almost no problem.

[backtomyfirstfandom]

What is Tintin doing in the '80s? (feat. Bianca Castafiore)

[memories]

*gazes off into the distance* @greatsnakestintin? I haven’t heard that name in years.

[dimdiamond]

Sometimes I can still hear @greatsnakestintin voice

[greatsnakestintin]

STOP TELLING EVERYONE IM DEAD

[dimdiamond]

I really miss him

[backtomyfirstfandom]

They were a great person *sniff*

[dimdiamond]

One of the best lads out there

[backtomyfirstfandom]

I can see them in Heaven, living their best life

[memories]

*gazes off into the distance* @greatsnakestintin? I haven’t heard that name in years.

[dimdiamond]

Sometimes I can still hear @greatsnakestintin voice

[greatsnakestintin]

STOP TELLING EVERYONE IM DEAD

[dimdiamond]

I really miss him

[backtomyfirstfandom]

They were a great person *sniff*

[backtomyfirstfandom]

We Know Tintin Is a Reckless Bastard, but Why Is He Like That?

Writing shit because my computer is being fixed.

So, I wanted to talk about a topic that isn't being discussed enough by the Tintin (and haddotin) fandom: Tintin's self-destructive behaviour.

This (young) man works as a reporter and lives in a flat in which he barely stays because he's always busy travelling around the world, following any kind of danger that occurs as if he was willingly submitting to his danger kink.

We had multiple occasions to learn about the fact that he's totally reckless and gets shot at, shots back, gets into fights, gets kidnapped, threatened and so on, only to then get out of the situation (whatever it is) nonchalantly.

All the fans seems to agree on the fact that he's probably been like this since he was a child: he was probably the type of kid to come hom with skinned knees and bloody knuckles after beating the shit out of kids who made fun of him for his red hair (just to bring a scenario into this). He is athletic and knows how to move on roofs, ships, planes and around dangerous people, meaning that he for sure has put himself into so many situations to basically being able to improvise the right behaviour at the right moment.

He's also able to do shit like this:

So, where does all of this come from?

My first guess, as a psychology student that can't help but analysing any character at this point, was that growing up he barely had something certain in his life.

I don't necessarily mean that his family was poor (you're free to think about it the way you want, but I personally Headcanon Tintin's family as belonging in the middle class of society), but what I had in mind was something uncertain coming from the emotional sphere of a family: he might come from a dysfunctional family in which either the parents kept fighting on a regular basis, or the love of his parents towards him was measured basing on his success and worth at their eyes (or also both scenarios); Tintin is a person that values his worth basing on his success or failure a lot, and it's a taught behaviour.

(This can be seen in the scene of Haddock's emotional speech).

Also, before he met Haddock he went on adventures with Milou and Milou only (Snowy); he's always had friends, but has never established a strong relationship with them: he's afraid of rejection and avoids it by not establishing strong connections with other human beings; his adventures are being used as a way to forget the fact that he's alone and that everyone will leave him in the end.

So does all of the danger that occurs to him: danger gives adrenaline to the body, which prevents the brain from thinking about anything that's not what is happening at the moment.

Basically, if Haddock has whiskey, Tintin has danger.

In a very dark view of the entire issue, danger can be seen as a way of seeking indirect suicide: every sane person with a bit of self-preservation instinct would stay away from all of those problems, but Tintin is a person that looks for self-destruction but just can't destroy himself with his own hands. He needs an external help.

Then, it came WWI (following Headcanons he should have been ten or something when war started).

Together with the dysfunctional family theory, war brought Tintin into a state of mind in which he needs to be cool in any situation otherwise he loses (or dies). This is the main reason why he's unable to lose his shit in front of danger or problems, because one wrong move or one sign of weakness by himself and he has lost.

It's something that in dysfunctional families occurs pretty often (anything can be used against you) and war isn't soft with humans.

He's also probably very uncomfortable with his own emotions as well; he shows anger, irritation and curiousity, but we've rarely seen him scared or in panic. He looks like he always knows how to solve the situation. He probably has lots of fears and phobias we know nothing about (I'll advance an Headcanon about a fear of dark, sudden sounds and occasionally fire) because he bottles everything up.

Tintin for sure has attachment issues and anxiety, because the only very close friends he has are Milou, Haddock and Chang (with Dupont and Dupond he's got a formal relationship more than anything else).

But why do these friendships work for him?

Milou: he's a dog and Tintin doesn't need to worry about his judgement;

Haddock: Tintin might have been worried about being abandoned after their first adventure together, but as Haddock kept accompanying him, he grew less and less worried about it;

Chang: they see eachother rarely and Tintin doesn't really have to worry about his judgement.

I forgot the point of this post.

In general, Tintin is pretty reckless due to trying to escape the belief that everyone will leave him behind at some point, or would stop loving him if he makes mistakes (which brought him to always try and be the best in every situation).

But he's also very curious: you can literally see his eyes light up with wonder when he learns about something new, and his curiosity is what gets him in all of those situations as well (for example, he learns about the Unicorn because he's curious about it).

That's it, I think. That's it.

[greatsnakestintin]

Mutuals I have had a long day pls pls pls tell me what tattoos you think Tintin (or any of the characters) might have and elaborate on it because you bring me so much joy

[backtomyfirstfandom]

Tintin: he has a small anchor on his sternum, painted in black, which symbolises Haddock (him being the anchor that can keep him from destroying himself). I also have this idea (kind of fantasising) in which Tintin has tons of clouds painted with white ink on his shoulders. He definitely used a tatoo to cover up his worst scar: it's a burn scar on his thigh (because he's a reckless bastard and might have jumped into a fire at least once) which he covered with a tatoo of the moon. And then something really stupid that he used as a stim toy: a trampoline with a stick figure on the palm of his hand;

Haddock: anchor on his left shoulder because yes. Also, a sun on his right hip and a stormy cloud on his left one to symbolise the two ways in which he sees Tintin: the sun because of colour scheme and the way he looks in general (he is this forever young man, kinda Peter Pan, who is curious about literally anything and has the energy of a squirrel); while the stormy cloud symbolises his strength and turbulent temper (the fact that he always needs to do something makes him look quite chaotic as well, the way he can become dangerous in matter of seconds, and his inner torment that leads him to self-destruction).

[backtomyfirstfandom]

Haddotin confirmed.

[backtomyfirstfandom]

Does anyone know how to do the KEEP READING thing by mobile?

(I know it does it automatically, but my computer is being repaired and I don't know how much it'll take)

[backtomyfirstfandom]

I made another playlist because the first one didn't match the vibe anymore.