#Bleeding Words

[academyoftheheartandmind]

What Else Can I Say? and Other Poems

By Esha Sury What Else Can I Say? This bone-tiredness to speak ended as pure reprieve. I dispose of my last pen and a surrendered dove, as remittance, gave its’ awareness to me in a dawn of non-talk. I wish plainly to cradle wordless breath, to unashamedly swallow the verse I could’ve written on a napkin somewhere. I chose not to walk the distance between tongue and cranium. Then between tongue…

[valtsv]

my top tip for surviving any roleplaying community is to understand the golden rules "in character =/= out of character" and "RP boundaries can and should be negotiated ahead of playtime, and can always be renegotiated" and stick to them. which means that "a character's behaviour, and the ways they interact with other characters, do not mean that the player harbours any of those sentiments unless expressed otherwise out of character" but also "all players have a right to express discomfort or dissatisfaction with the ways we're interacting through the medium of our characters, and you should not react defensively or dismiss anyone else's concerns just because it 'isn't real'".

[turtleblogatlast]

[ cw: death mention / strangulation mention / stabbing mention / blood mention / self-sacrifice / codependency mention in tags / ]

I think a lot about how common it is for Raph to be the one to have direct focus put on him when Leo gets into all his near death experiences.

Like, when Leo is thrown off a building, it’s Raph who’s right there jumping after him, not even thinking about the consequences to himself when he does. When Leo almost gets skewered by the Krang, Raph’s right there to take the blow and send Leo to safety without a second thought. When Leo’s being strangled to near death, it’s a Krangified Raph doing the job, doing exactly what Raph would never, ever want to do. When Leo is telling Casey Jr to close the portal, it’s Raph who tries desperately to convince Leo otherwise.

Likewise, Leo is consistently very single minded when Raph gets forcibly separated from them. Both when in the sewers and by the Krang, Leo is dead set on finding Raph first and foremost.

I also think it’s interesting that during each of Leo’s near death experiences, the lightheartedness of his words during them goes directly hand in hand with both how close Raph is to him physically and how much danger Raph is also in in that moment. From a literal “I told you so” as Leo’s falling away from Raph to a soft joke about how “hero moves” are Raph’s style - both of these are on the more morbidly carefree side and both of these notably take Leo farther away from Raph and, in turn, have Raph not in immediate danger.

On the other side of things is the apology from Leo, heedless of the danger he himself is in as he seriously and genuinely speaks to a Krangified Raph face to face. Then there’s Leo’s freezing and desperation as Raph takes a hit meant for him and sends just Leo to safety, leaving Raph himself behind. Both of these involve much closer proximity and Raph being directly harmed - these together make Leo much more vulnerable in his words and actions, something not even the threat of death can make him.

These two care about each other so much, and they’re way too much alike for their own good.

[snakeguy999]

[zorosdimples]

you’re about to have sex with your fave for the first time and you’re thrilled; it wasn’t exactly planned, but dinner went well, and you’re back at his place (trying not to rip each other’s clothes off the second you step through the doorway).

before you meet him in his bedroom, you go to the restroom, and are horrified to discover that your body clearly hates you because you just started your cycle. it’s obviously not how you envisioned your first time together, and you’re worried that you’re going to have to call off the night’s activities.

it’s embarrassing—walking into the bedroom and not quite meeting his eye when you explain to him that it’s your time of the month. but what’s perhaps even more embarrassing is the way that he cocks his eyebrow and tilts his head in confusion.

“that’s not a problem for me,” he says. “is it for you?”

you quickly shake your head. “oh—um, i just don’t want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

he takes a step closer to you. “is anything off-limits?”

you let out an exasperated chuckle. “what do you mean?”

“is it okay if i still go down on you?”

you can’t help the way that your eyes widen and your knees shake. “you want to go down on me even though i’m bleeding?”

he closes the gap between you, hands coming to rest heavily on your hips. “why do you sound so surprised? i want to enjoy all of you. a little blood won’t hurt me.”

[feral-ballad]

Eileen R. Tabios, ed. by Kate Rogers and Viki Holmes, from Not a Muse: The Inner Lives of Women: A World Poetry Anthology; "Three Coyotes"

[Text ID: “She bleeds without / pain / You see her blood / through roses / lushly-petalled”]

[charlieconwayy]

Movies That Made Me: Back to the Future (1985)

[muirmarie]

honestly the funniest thing is coming across ppl who are like "bones is so mean to spock 😡😡😡" like spock doesn't go out of his way to be just as big a cunt to mccoy??? it's their LOVE LANGUAGE!!! some of y'all didn't grow up watching tv shows with old broads and old queen-coded men being as cunty as possible to each other OUT OF LOVE. spock spends half his shift on the bridge coming up with mean things to say to his dr the moment mccoy flounce onto the bridge to flirt with jim (affectionate) and spock (derogatory and bloody, there will be no survivors except for them, THEY'RE having a BLAST).

listen when the cards are down they will be thoughtful and worried and touch each other SO gently and fight over who gets to die for each other. all of that is the floor they're standing on. they KNOW that. but GOSH in the meantime they're BOTH having an absolute blast bullying the shit out of each other, bless <3

[spaciebabie]

hmm okay but like imagine. springtrap is in every sort of pain you can imagine daily. physical, emotional, spiritual, mental, and he spent 30 years trapped in a broom closet so bro is probably very mentally unstable. so like. imagine how he would feel upon receiving affection for the first time in all those years. i think his brain would explode. all this agony that he walks around with daily, and then one day hes given a hug and the gentle press of another person against him. holding him. makes him feel sturdy even though he's basically falling apart. maybe a quiet remark of fondness particularly stabs him in the chest. i mean, he would come undone. he hasnt felt good like this in years.

he wouldnt be able ta get enough of this good feeling. seeking out physical affection whenever he can, even when its just from brushing past each other or fingertips lingering for a split second. always needing ta be near. finding solace in being an arms length away. the praise he would try ta draw out. "hey look at this thing i did i truly am the best at this sort of thing," the way he would cherish being spoken about in any positive manner. just the way it would feel so good ta have someone give him some much needed attention and praise. and ta feel such positive emotions abt and around them in return. the way that even with all the agony he experiences he is blessed to be afforded a single break from all of it. if only for a moment, to feel it all melt away...

[mla-luna-inalcanzable-blog]

In dark rooms and dusted floors, a few faded petals of joy still shine giving to the heart short instants of life and keep it still beating...

في الغرف المظلمة والأرضيات المتربة ، لا تزال بضع بتلات باهتة من الفرح تتألق لتمنح القلب لحظات قصيرة من الحياة وتبقيه ينبض ...

[brainrotcharacters]

"I'm gonna fight you now."

[a-little-buggy]

"Amore mio, we cannot keep doing this." Ezio paced across the wooden floor, running his hand through his hair. It was entirely dark out, and the room was lit by a single candle on the table. "You were gone two full days! I practically turned this city upside-down looking for you!"

"How was I supposed to know I was still seeing things!? I genuinely thought it would wear off before now!" Desmond was sitting in a common room chair; the dark circles under his eyes were accentuated by his washed out complexion. He had just come from a bath, otherwise he would still be coated in sweat and hay. "I thought after a few weeks everything would just go back to normal! Well. . ." Desmond gestured around at the Renaissance assassin's guild hall. "Normal being relative, and all."

Ezio pulled a chair over by Desmond and sat down, picking at the stray straws of hay still glued to Desmond's skin. "I know that you are just trying to keep active, but please. If I get another report of you passing out in an alley, or landing in the river, I swear to Christo I will go gray." He stopped and cupped his hands around Desmond's face. "Don't do this to me, Desmond. I'm too young for gray hair."

"Oh don't worry, it'll be just as popular with the chicks as ever." Desmond gave a *swish* of his imaginary long locks, but the motion made his head spin. He braced his arms against the table. "Though I personally have less interest in the grandpa-type."

"Molto bene, that means you should have a personal investment in not causing me any more stress!"

"You think it's stressful for you? You're not the one running an imaginary Boston Marathon every other weekday!" Desmond scoffed, and laid his head down on the table in such a way as to still be able to give Ezio the stink eye.

"You know that isn't how I meant it. I just wish I could convince you to stay safe." Ezio rocked his chair back, and set his heels on the corner of the table. "At the very least, until we have some kind of answer as to when these episodes occur, or why."

Desmond gave a deep, shuddering sigh. "What if we never get any such answer? What little I know about bleeds is that I originally got them from using the Animus. Except now, I've somehow traveled back through time, so who even knows what kind of effects that could cause."

Ezio pressed a finger to his forehead. "Wait a moment. What is the Animus?"

"Seriously? It's the device that showed me your memories. We talked about this a few days ago."

Ezio removed his feet from the table and sat upright, eyeing Desmond suspiciously. "And when was this again, exactly?"

"Why? I. . . I guess it was four days ago, now, so Thursday? I remember it was raining."

Ezio bit his lip and grimaced, then giving a deep exhale placed a gentle hand on Desmond's leg. "I had a contract in Forlì that day."

"No, no. You're kidding." Desmond pushed off of the table and sank down into the wooden chair, as if it could absorb the impact of this new revelation for him. Ezio couldn't have imagined Desmond getting any paler, but he had. "No. No no no no no Ezio I -"

"Hey, it's alright, you're alright, I just need you to breathe." Desmond was badly shaken by this point, and his legs had given out, leaving him sinking to the floor. Ezio grabbed hold of his shoulders, trying to ease his downward descent.

Desmond's voice cracked. "No, no, it's not alright!" He grabbed Ezio back, desperate for some kind of tether. "How can you stand there and tell me it's alright, just after telling me that you may not even be here!?!?"

"I am here, though. I'm here." Ezio wrapped his arms tightly around Desmond, holding him as close as he possibly could. What else could he do? "Just try to breathe."

And so the two sat there, as the candle burned down to a stump. Slowly, Desmond's shaking turned to shuddered breathing, which turned to deep breaths.

Ezio rubbed Desmond's shoulders. "It may not be much longer until daybreak. Do you think you are ready to try for some sleep?"

Desmond slumped forward, burying his face in Ezio's chest. "Honestly? I think I'm too exhausted to make it to bed. Here seems fine."

Ezio chuckled. "For you, perhaps, but I am a creature of comfort." With one of his arms still wrapped around Desmond's back, he slid the other one under Desmond's knees and stood up, carrying him off towards the bunks.

Desmond wrapped his arms around Ezio's neck. "My hero," he sleepily crooned.

"Don't sing my praises just yet, amò." Ezio shifted Desmond's weight, fumbling to turn the doorknob. "I may expect you to return the favor one day."

"What?!" Desmond gasped, playing up the dramatics. " 's not fair, you're much bigger than I am!"

"Is that meant as a compliment or an insult?"

"I dunno yet." Desmond yawned. "I'll decide later, when I need one or the other."

Soon enough, they both had clambered into bed, and were able to get some much needed sleep.

-----

Desmond spent the next few days occupying himself in the base. Besides helping sort through the dispatching of contracts, he got caught them caught up on some long overdue weapons orders and offered advice to whatever young assasin might come knocking. This was his favorite task. It was a reminder of a simpler time, of when he could stand behind a bar and just chat with people about whatever was ailing them. Except this was a little more murder-y. But having been a bartender in New York, it was not so much more murder-y as one might think.

But all the same, he was beginning to feel cooped up. And so he went to seek audience with the Mentorè, about perhaps being allowed on a group mission of some form.

There were two novices already in Ezio's office, a boy and a girl. They were likely discussing the details of an upcoming contract. Having already opened the door, Desmond knocked on the doorframe. Ezio waved him in.

"What can I do for you, Desmond?" Ezio propped his elbows up on the desk and clasped his hands, resting his chin on top of them.

"Oh, it can wait. Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt." Desmond glanced over at the novices, who in fairness, seemed unperturbed.

"So can this. Please, continue." Ezio leaned back in the chair, and the two young assassins stepped to the side.

Desmond cleared his throat. "With your permission, Mentorè," On this word he did a slight bow. Ezio rolled his eyes. "I would wish to be sent on a mission. As part of a group, of course," He hastened to add. "It's just. . . I don't do well feeling confined. And I'm about ready to go stir-crazy in here."

One of the novices smirked. "Is that different from the regular crazy somehow?" He asked. Desmond gave a dry, mocking laugh in response, but then turned back to Ezio and. . . Oh shit.

Desmond always knew that Ezio Auditore da Firenze was a dangerous man. He knew of all his great conquests, and had seen the fear in the eyes of his enemies. And yet somehow, to see the master assassin here and brimming with fury, it felt like the first time he really understood how terrifying such a man could be.

The other novice slapped the first upside the head, and then grabbed him by the wrist. "Thank you for the advice, Mentorè. We will send word as soon as we complete our task," She said, dragging him out the door, which closed firmly behind them.

Ezio took a deep breath, and settled back into his seat.

Desmond shuffled his feet. "Hey, so umm, you wouldn't have actually murdered that kid, right?"

"Fortunately, we will not have to find out." Ezio shot what he assumed was a comforting smile up at Desmond (it wasn't) and then rifled through some papers on his desk. "I actually have a mission that should suit you just fine. It should be straightforward, a matter of some scouting and interrogating a handful of people. There will be two others with you, and you will cover a fair bit of ground. Benè?" Ezio handed over a map with a few directions and way points marked on it.

Desmond nodded. "Yeah, benè. Thank you, Ezio."

"You're welcome. You leave in an hour. And Desmond," He continued, once Desmond had turned to leave. "I know you are highly skilled, but do still be careful."

"I will." Desmond walked back over to Ezio, then kissed him on the cheek and winked. "I promise."

Ezio kicked his boots up on the desk. "Oh, you are such a flirt."

"Well, I come by it honestly." And with that, Desmond left to make preparations.

-----

Desmond was sitting atop a window dormer, watching the surrounding area as another assassin prepared to 'talk to' a gang member in the alleyway below. A third assassin was perched on another neighboring rooftop, similarly spying for any potential complications. This was the method they had all decided on, and it had been working quite well. One person would go to meet the target, and the other two would remain above: out of sight so as to not cause any alarm, but close enough to drop into the fray should anything go awry. This was the last one on their list, and then they could all go back and herald their mission as a success.

He scanned the skyline. Besides the other assassin (whose name he had learned was Achille), there was no one visible up here. He peered down into the street. Piera (visible in blue) had just cornered in on the gang member (visible in gold). One or two of their targets had been willing to part with their information before it came to blows, but such instances were few and far between. Piera gave a quick display of her hidden blade, just to make her intentions and alliances clear.

As was typical, the conversation started with an exchange of thinly-veiled threats. "Next will come the unveiled threats, and then the diet violence," Desmond mused to himself.

The target started shouting. Desmond thought he heard another voice. He scanned the rooftops again, and this time saw a pair of guards off in the distance behind him. He looked back at Achille, who did not seem to react. "This again," Desmond muttered under his breath. He shifted to the right, and the guards were gone from his line of sight. "Please let that fix it." He turned back to watching the alley.

"You belong down in the street with the rest of the filth!" The voice was still distant, but it was definitely louder this time.

Desmond sighed. He turned to look behind himself, and saw the two guards from before making their way over, and a third guard climbing up behind them. "Just ignore them, and they'll go away," He said to himself. He turned back to the alleyway.

"Get down off this roof, or I will throw you off myself!"

Desmond scoffed. "I'd like to see you try. I think I'm finished throwing myself off of rooftops because of figments of my twisted imagination."

He heard another shout. This one wasn't from the target, or the illusory guard, but from Achille. "Desmond, look out!"

Desmond spun around, but not quickly enough, because a boot impacted him squarely in the chest, and he fell from the roof.

He desperately reached out, trying to grab hold of something to hang from. His right hand caught the wooden paneling of the window he was sitting above, but the wooden beam was brittle and snapped off, splintering under his fingernails. He yelled, and was unable to grab hold anywhere else.

Desmond's ankle rolled as he hit the ground, and he fell prone. The guard peered from the rooftop above, and apparently for the first time put together the implications of there being three hooded figures together. "Assassinos! Get them!" Well, so much for subtlety.

Piera ran over to help Desmond to his feet, and the gang member bolted. Desmond shook his head, and pulled himself up. "Don't worry about me, I can handle a few guards. Don't let the target get away!" He turned to face the building he had fallen from. The guards were already descending. He shifted his weight, and winced. Running's not an option. He readied his blade.

Desmond lunged at the first guard to get his boots on the ground. He hadn't yet pulled his sword, so Desmond easily grabbed hold of him, sliding the hidden blade between his ribs. Unfortunately, the next two landed with their swords already drawn, and Desmond could hear more footsteps fast approaching. "Shit, how many of you are there?"

He heard a shriek from above, and looked up just in time to dodge a guard falling from the rooftop, an arrow lodged in his chest. He landed with a dull, wet thud. Desmond spared a glance up towards Achille, who was already nocking another arrow. "Oh, this should be a peace of cake, then."

Desmond crossed blades with the two guards closest to him, parrying and deflecting their attacks. One of them leaped forward with an arcing swing of their sword. Desmond dodged under and to the side of the swing, then came around behind the off-balance guard, slitting his throat.

Another shriek, another thud. Desmond easily dispatched his next opponent, sweeping him off his feet and then skewering him where he fell. But the next guards approached together, and Desmond had to shift his focus to defense again.

Shriek, thud. One of the guards tried to bring his sword down on Desmond's head, who used both blades to intersect it. In the sword's reflection, Desmond saw another guard coming from behind him. "I've got you now, assassino!" Desmond shoved his current attacker off and spun around, swinging his blade in a wide arc. But as soon as his blade hit the guard's chest, he disappeared into mid-air.

Desmond growled. "Are yOU KIDDING ME!?!?!"

Shriek, thud.

A low chuckle from one of the guardsmen. "Jumping at shadows, boy? Ready for someone to put you out of your misery?" Desmond turned on his heel and lunged for the unlucky dastard's face, plunging both of the hidden blades deep into his eyesockets.

What few guards remained turned tail and ran.

Shriek, thud. Desmond turned once again to Achille, who was now clambering down the building, bow in hand. "They were already running, y'know."

Achille landed on the street, and shrugged. "They picked the fight. The least they could do is have the decency to see it through."

Desmond chuckled, then rubbed his shoulder. "Well, whether Piera caught the target or not, by now, she'll be heading back to base. We should be, too." He looked down at his swelling ankle. "No crazy parkour shit though."

-----

Ezio was pacing back and forth across the wooden floor, combing his hand through his hair. Piera had gotten back with her report on the mission two hours ago. He had already sent ten otherwise idle assassins out searching for Desmond, and he was deliberating about sending more.

"He has returned!" Came a voice from the door.

Ezio raced to the door. His stomach lurched when he saw Desmond, covered in blood and limping, except. . . He was also smiling? There he was, covered head-to-toe in blood, and grinning ear-to-ear!

"Desmond? Are you. . ." He looked Desmond up and down. Bloody. Beaming. "Did you hit your head?"

"Ezio!" Desmond threw his arms up wide, flinging blood on the assassins unfortunate enough to be standing near him. "No, I'm just fine! Well, I wrecked my ankle, but not nearly so much as I wrecked all of the guards!"

Ezio laughed. "So, you determined that what you needed was catharsis, and that any guard would suffice?"

"Well no, actually," Desmond responded a bit sheepishly. "I let them get the drop on me, believing they weren't real."

Ezio very abruptly stopped laughing. "You WHAT -"

"Can we discuss it later? I know it's a problem, but I'm currently riding a high, and I would like to enjoy it."

Ezio started to object, but instead wrapped an arm over Desmond's shoulders. "Later then." He lifted his arm, and stared in horror at the gloopy mess now dripping from it. "Dio mio, someone needs to give you a bath."

Desmond smirked. "Are you volunteering?"

-----

I don't ever think of myself as a creative person, so I am ABSOLUTELY blaming @sulfies that I have done this again, lol. I hope you enjoyed though! Much less bleed effect whump this time around, and much less re-reading to check that it makes sense, lol. Hyperfixation + insomnia = I wrote another story, but now it's a quarter to six in the morning and I may low-key hate myself tomorrow (today?). Thanks for reading!

[the-lonelybarricade]

It's Wednesday and I need external validation to summon the strength to finish this chapter 😩

-

“Do I want to know why you were digging through our fireplace, Feyre darling?“

She gasped, almost dropping the poker. “Rhys?”

He stepped closer, face still hung in shadow. “Beginning to miss me?”

Her heart was thundering. It didn’t seem to ease, though she knew he was no longer a threat. 

“Of course not,” she said. She meant to lower the poker, but found her fingers tightening.

Rhys chuckled. The sound was dark, scraping. She felt it drag across the ridges of her spine, slightly less pronounced in the time he’d been away. It was remarkable how even just a few days of steady eating could make a difference.

“Such a warm welcome from my wife,” he said. She could picture his feline smile as he glided through the dark with unfathomable ease, as if he were its maker. “Are you going to put that poker down, or are you still debating on stabbing me with it?”

Feyre glanced over her shoulder, toward the large oak door on the opposite side of the room. Puzzled, she asked, “Did you come in through the window?”

“I came in behind you,” he said with another laugh, crossing the room in four long strides. “But you were too focused on that fireplace to welcome your poor husband home.”

“Except you’re not my husband,” she said flatly, returning to her work now that he was coming closer. She wasn’t certain she could handle seeing his face, which she admittedly had been thinking about. Often. “And as we’ve established, I didn’t miss you.”

“Didn’t you?” He crooned, crouching behind her. “I’m glad you clarified, or that cloak might have given me the wrong impression.”

Feyre went quiet. She’d been wearing his cloak because it was warm and of much better quality than her own. It hadn’t occurred to her that he’d eventually return to find her still in it. 

[teemdark]

No but all jokes aside, I really hope they do keep Maria dead. I've seen suggestions that she could somehow survive the ARK raid and be secretly alive the whole time and I just. I really hope they don't do that.

Because it's such a big part of Shadow's progression as a character. Yes, she's dead. She died at the hands of humans. She's a prime example of the needless cruelty they're capable of. And yet she didn't doubt her love for earth/humanity for a second, not even while she was bleeding out on the ARK's floor in front of her little brother. She was dying and she still asked him to protect humanity, to watch over the ones who took everything from him.

And even though she's dead and gone and he's never getting her back in any way, Shadow makes the conscious decision to protect the earth in the end. He finds it in himself to believe that humanity is worth it, despite having lived through the horrors it has to offer.

Idk, I feel it wouldn't hit as hard if we just found out that whoops, Maria was actually alive all along!

[farshootergotme]

When people deny that Bruce is abusive or has abused his kids in canon, what do they define as abuse? Because I comprehend that abuse is the harm of one person to another that can be physical, mental or emotional. Usually it's done out of malice, but you can still intend harm while not being an evil person.

I consider Bruce a very complex and extremely complicated person. He does a lot of good in his city, but he also does bad when it comes to his personal relationships because of his inability to deal with emotions in a healthy or proper manner.

When I think of him as an abusive parent, I'm not thinking of him as a father who doesn't love or care for his children nor am I suggesting he's a horrible and irredeemable person.

I think he's abusive in the sense that he's violent towards his kids when he feels cornered or thinks if they get an opening to fight back it will be a fair fight and his actions will be justified when he doesn't know how to deal with a situation otherwise.

I think he's abusive when he neglects to provide a secure emotional support for his children and pushes them away instead, even when they're trying to reach out to him.

I think his abuse comes in many forms and not always intentionally, but it exists and it will keep happening because he doesn't have healthy coping mechanisms. He doesn't have a normal life, he doesn't have healthy emotional responses and he has too many issues to even start to unpack any of that.

He's far from the perfect parent we all wish he was and he keeps messing up no matter how overwhelming his love for his kids is because he only deals with the problems the city has, never his own.

When you focus too much on something big, you'll end up neglecting other aspects of your life, and in this case for Bruce it means neglecting his family for the sake of a city. And he's a hero, he saves people, he comforts the victims and brings protection to the children of Gotham. Sometimes he will even be a shoulder to cry for the criminals that deserve it. And all of that is too much for just one man, and Batman is no exception.

[lunarmoves]

Omg seeing other peoples thoughts has given me an idea-

Mechanical superiority Sun getting a (love) poem from reader about how much they cherish him and its all sweet and fluff and soft and and

Sun just has to s t o p and process all this- so different from his usual internal ruminating I just aaaaaaa

🥺

A LOVE POEM RAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! omg i think it would actually fry his circuits?? like.... okay, sure, maybe he was catching feelings beforehand, but he never really sat down to acknowledge it... and i think he would misinterpret these feelings at first. maybe he would accidentally define it as him being irritated or angry with you. bc like- he's constantly thinking about you and he overheats when he's near you at times and he glitches more often when you say something particularly nice.... there must be something wrong with him and it's all your fault smh!!!! so maybe he's cold or snappy with you and definitely pushes his 'robots r better' agenda further onto you (to his irritation, you don't back away. in fact you're constantly indulging him and his words and his internal anger at being imprisoned in this stuffy small daycare. always with that small smile on your face)

but then he gets a love poem from you and it's like his whole world gets redefined?? he has a moment where he's like ohhhhhhhh that wasnt anger that was something else entirely. and what should he even do about it?? you're a human! far below him.... or so he's thought all this time. he's been so rude and arrogant around you. and he has this internal war going on in his head about the differences between you and him. your weakness, his strength. your fragility, his sturdiness. he's better than you. he's better than you and he doesn't know why this frightens him all of a sudden.

(it's the idea of how easy it would be for you to just... disappear, one day. to get fatally injured to something that wouldn't even put a scratch on him)

it takes him a while before he learns to accept you, and in this time he's unforch still very snobby and makes subtle jabs at you about your humanity. but you still don't leave him?? in fact... you start looking at him in a way that makes him feel like you're stripping him down to his very core, unraveling wire after wire. exposing him with your stare alone.

and ahhhh, he should have never fallen this hard for you, he thinks to himself one day. he's cooked