#Say hi everyone he died eating murder fruits

[whatarethooseshuri]

Shuri, what are you doing?

@king-ofwakanda

Hunger games:)

[atsadi-shenanigans]

Feeding Alligators 16 - When Animals Attack

You see an owlbear. You see what an owlbear does to people. Rated M, y'all.

On AO3.

“That was disgusting,” Shadowheart says, her entire face wrinkled in horror.

Gale is a delicate shade of green, while Lae’zel looks as grim as usual.

Only Astarion appears chipper as he says, “So, these brainworms are part of a cult that give us the power to control other people?”

You’re not entirely sure where he got that, but he sounds way too excited about it. You stand there as the group descends into another kerfluffle.

Tadpoles are awesome and we should use this.

That sounds morally questionable.

We should figure out how the fuck first.

You meat creatures are all beneath me I waste my time on vermin.

And then there’s you and your spinning, churning thoughts. A cult is on y’all’s asses and its hierarchy is designed with brainwormed people at the top. You have a brainworm, but none of the others have heard of this “Absolute” character. The dead guy and his cult lackeys think either the brainworms are a goddess, or are somehow tied to one.

A thought occurs.

“Are gods real here?” you say and the kerfluffle dies so quick you look up expecting to see whatever an owlbear is looming. Everyone stares at you. “What?”

“What do you mean, are they real?” This comes from Shadowheart, and goddamn, that edge is back in full force.

“Are they? We got religions where I come from, but no one has ever credibly, like, seen a god walking around or nothing. No magic, no prove-able deities. At least not scientifically speaking.”

Gale is damn near shaking. He’s a dog watching you hold a ball; he wants you to throw it so he can chase it so bad. But maybe it’s the worm bursting through an eyeball, or maybe Shadowheart’s sudden cloud of gloom dampens even his enthusiasm. He settles for a, “Yes. Gods and goddesses are very much real. I myself, er, have been in the presence of one.”

Fuck fuckity fuck. That is what you need to hear right now. Fucking brainworms, fucking cult, fucking actual gods.

“Motherfucker.” You don’t mean to say that out loud. But you do and while Gale seems horrified and Lae’zel completely baffled, Astarion is one hundred percent maliciously beaming. This fucking guy.

“By all the hells, what do your people get up to?” he says.

“It’s a saying. Not the point.” You wave a hand as if to clear the air from a particularly rancid fart. “Is this Absolute shithead an actual goddess?”

No, not that any of them have heard. And Gale reads a lot. Which plonks you right back on square one: real or imagined tadpole goddess, and those cultists you sent to some monster’s lair.

“We waste time,” Lae’zel says.

“I do agree with you,” Gale says. Looks at you with this kind of hopeful expression.

He’ll be wanting you to call those bumblefucks back. Save them from their apparent suicide mission. And you could. Maybe you even should.

Her power is mighty, dead guy had said.

You’ve been running for close to fifteen years. You survived all that, survived starting over with literally nothing to your new name. Survived a UFO crash, an attempted murder, goblins, and harpies. This Absolute wants you for something you don’t even have, and you of all people know what cults can do.

“Can owlbears understand human speech?” you say.

“If a magic user casts ‘Speak with Animals’ or consumes a potion to the same effect. I believe I have one in my bag,” Gale says. The unspoken “why” hangs heavy in the air.

This place will kill you. Half the people you’ve met have tried, and those that didn’t, wanted to kill someone else. You’d read somewhere that modern Earth has the lowest percentage of “death by violence” on average than any other point in history. A few days into Faerun and you’re beginning to understand that.

People like to think nature is sweet and harmonious in a cute, fluffy way. Everything gets along and animals live fruitful, content lives raising babies and watching pretty sunsets.

That view is wrong. Monkeys eat songbirds. Seals eat baby penguins out for their first swim. Orcas get into narwhal breeding inlets and slaughter every, single narwhal. Probably for fun. Fucking deer eat fucking snakes if they can.

Your White ancestors built fortress cities, and your Cherokee ancestors (unlike the bullshit stereotypes) built and stuck primarily to their towns. Life eats life to keep on living, and you don’t go outside at night because you are a slow, hairless, bipedal ape with no natural weapons and a lot of nature finds you easy pickings. And as a bipedal ape with no natural weapons, you don’t have the luxury of playing fair.

“I say we follow those two into that cave and sick the owlbear on them,” you say and toss the dice. Bumbling yokel is out; it was nice knowing her.

Gale frowns. Opens his mouth. Pauses. Shadowheart nods thoughtfully.

��Ch’k!” Lae’zel hisses. “More cowardly skulking. If you wish them dead, simply kill them yourself.”

Your stomach is tight. The ghost of raspberries sticks in your craw. You have to swallow a few times before you can answer.

Let that cold detachment seep in. See the shining line connecting you to what you want, what you need to do. This is the cleanest way. You know that. You know how to follow that line, trust that instinct, do what you have to to save yourself. It’s not the first time (it is the first time where someone’s life was the price).

“They was sent out here by somebody,” you say. “That implies there’s people they report to; who’ll notice when they don’t show up. Say they come looking. Say they find bodies you chopped in half. They’d know their people met someone who wanted to kill them.”

“We have seen many others slain along the road.”

“They’re looking for us, Lae’zel. Us specifically, though they don’t know it yet. But if they get to talking with anyone we’ve met, if they know someone matching our descriptions was here about the time their people got murdered, then it starts to tie us to them. Starts to paint us in ‘the people they’re looking for.’ Y’all don’t really fit in, I’m noticing. I sure as shit don’t without Gale’s potion.”

Gale sighs and hangs his head.

“But if their people get themselves mauled by an animal? One that scares them that bad? That ain’t nobody’s fault but theirs. They just got unlucky or stupid.

Astarion claps like a giddy first-grader. “Oh, I like this plan!”

“You just want to watch someone get torn apart by an owlbear,” Shadowheart says.

“Spoken as if you don’t? I agree with Eleanor. We can’t have these people running around at our backs. Better to deal with them now.”

Lae’zel scowls but doesn’t object. Leaving only Gale.

His eyes dart back and forth in thought. His brow furrows. He rubs a hand over his forehead a couple of times, and then sighs again.

“I do see the logic in your suggestion,” he says. “Much as I wish I didn’t. Alright. I don’t like the thought of leaving potential enemies at our backs, either. Lead on, then.”

Lead on. All of them looking at you.

Now hold on just a minute. You ain’t the group leader. You can barely manage your day-to-day life without resorting to cereal for dinner for two weeks straight. You don’t know about this place or its people, and now this gaggle wants to follow you?

This is so fucked up.

But it is your suggestion. And if you’re gonna set out to turn a big, mean, bear type creature on somebody on purpose, you should probably own up to it and do it yourself. You owe those bumblefucks that much.

You do your best to let lizard brain take over. Go quiet and still and dead inside, the version of you where hands don’t shake and lungs don’t twitch, and whose head doesn’t feel like an egg about to crack open.

You lead on.

It’s Gale who finds you outside, puking your guts out in the bushes. He winces sympathetically. You’re just glad your hair is short enough it doesn’t get any vomit on it.

Once you’re done—after two false endings—he hands you a water skin and you gargle for three minutes.

“I take it you don’t do this sort of thing often,” he says.

You shake your head and splash water over your face. You need a bath. You need a steel scrub brush. Maybe take a few layers of skin off. You also need a handkerchief, which Gale is kind enough to supply, and you try to ignore the vomit burn in your sinuses as you clear them out.

Your idea had been effective. Terribly so. Gale had found that potion, which you had insisted be given to you. It tasted vaguely of wet dog for some reason. But this was your call, so you were going to see it through, and you’d been all brave and stoic right up until you got halfway into that stinking cave and heard the thunderous footsteps. You had to literally clap a hand over your crotch to keep from wetting yourself as the thing rumbled into view.

An owlbear. Exactly matched Gale’s previous description. And they weren’t kidding about the “bear” part, neither. You’d been kind of expecting a very large dog size, more like a black bear. But this thing was some awful cross between a grizzly and one of those ancient cave bears. Goddamn thing’s shoulders were taller than your head. Its face was that of a giant owl, with a beak as long as your forearm and an intrusive thought plowed into your mind’s eye: that beak closing on your middle, puncturing and piercing you like you were a blood-filled soup dumpling as it tore out chunks of pink meat and intestines—

You pause washing while your stomach considers another round.

Gale also had an invisibility potion, which also worked on you thank fuck, and it let you creep horrifically close to the creature. Close enough you could smell the sweet reek of decaying flesh and carnivore stench.

You’d already sent Skeptic and Baldy around back to flank it, you’d said. Now, the owlbear was between you and them.

This would be a damn stupid way to die, you’d thought. And then you opened your mouth before your bladder could cut loose. “Behind you! Humans here to kill you!”

For one, horrifying second—the crest feathers stood straight up in a move that left your primate ancestors swooning in terror—you were sure it was going to charge you. It’s hackles, both fur and feathers, lifted and it hefted itself up onto its hind legs to let out a deep, trilling shriek.

This is how you die, you thought as a heavy haze drifted down to blanket you.

But the owlbear turned, spotted the cultists, and charged.

Things went to hell after that.

“How’s Lae’zel,” you say. God, your throat burns.

“Managed to clean off most of the acid,” Gale says. “She refused to let Shadowheart heal her, however. I’m afraid our supply of healing potions dwindles even further.”

For fuck’s sake.

“Next time, she’s gotta suck it up and let Shadowheart help. No more health potions.”

Gale shrugs. “If you’d like to be the one to tell her that, I shan’t stop you.”

For fuck’s sake.

Skeptic had caught on quick and started lobbing fucking acid bottles at the others. She’d only stopped once the owlbear’s giant fuck off claws tore her throat out. Baldy hadn’t been that lucky. That beak…

You squeeze your eyes shut and take careful breaths.

They’d managed to hurt the owlbear. But they’d also given your group away, and the furious thing had turned on y’all once those two were down.

Lae’zel had done most of the killing work; she’d get herself a new, stuffed trophy after all. If you could pry it from the cub now tearing its mother apart and gulping down her meat.

“Y’all’s world sucks,” you say.

“Oh, it has its charms,” Gale says. “Just as I’m certain your own has its dangers.”

He’s got a look you can’t quite place. He’s been eying you with it since you suggested this. Probably because this solution wouldn’t occur to someone fully hinged.

“Are they about done in there you think?” you say.

“Scavenging and cleanup, yes. I came to get you, actually, as there’s something interesting further in and didn’t want you to feel left out.”

He’s a good guy. Bit of a windbag, but not mean. Maybe the most normal person here.

“I’m not helping you lug that dripping head all the way back to camp,” Astarion’s voice drifts out.

“As if your weak arms could assist me,” Lae’zel says.

You close your eyes.

[thespoonisvictory]

“Ok, but,” Verity stabbed a pancake, spearing raspberries with precision, “what exactly is stopping Ophelia from dying?”

James scoffed. “Her good health.”

Across the table, Brynn laughed into her drink. Verity shot a glare. 

“Besides the point. If Stella’s pact is unfixable in the what? Twelve days?” Brynn nodded. “Twelve days we have, then someone’s going to have to die. Better that it impede the war somehow.”

Stella shrunk into her chair. “I just don’t know what would happen. Last time it was my brother, this time…”

“It could be Ophelia?” Brynn said.

“Or me.” 

“Or any one of us.” Verity emphasized, eyes traveling over the party. 

Leilani drained the last bits of her orange juice. “So. She dies. We can’t blame the king, because that’s a lost cause. We can’t blame councilmembers, because we don’t have enough information, and they don’t have enough power in the first place.” She frowned. “Who’s left?”

Another raspberry stabbed. Jeffrey stared past the doors’ windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of his old coworkers. Brynn sighed into her coffee. 

In a rare moment, relative silence settled over the table. Pieces of toast, fruit, and soupy cream and syrup were pushed around on various plates. Ideas were pushed around with much the same enthusiasm, furrowed brows and pursed lips. No one wanted the councilwoman dead, but Stella’s death wasn’t particularly appealing either. It was a non-option. Yet, so was war, what with James’ family on the line, and Lani’s father, and millions of other innocent people. There were too many players, too many allies, enemies, too many pieces moving around. 

Knocking even one off the board could completely change the circumstances. 

Even one. Suddenly, Verity’s head shot up.

“Sileria.” She said. 

Stella raised a brow.

“We frame their ally. Sileria.” She continued, fork clattering downward.

Brynn stuck her knife at her, immediately catching on. “There’s an idea.” 

“Sileria looks war hungry, killing a beloved councilmember like that. They look desperate, anxious.” There was motion now, forward momentum in her tone. All eating had stopped as everyone turned to look at the mounting hope.

“And if, say, Lieutenant Broadwick caught wind that Sileria was only seeking to weaken the Republic, encouraging this conflict–” She turned to Jeffrey, a glitter in her eyes.

“From a trusted confidant, let’s say.” He said, cat’s grin growing. “Someone on the inside, someone who he would believe implicitly.”

Leilani laughed; it was so perfect. “A long-lost lover, at last returned, who would want only best for them, for the Republic.” 

“So he’s reporting to the masses that Sileria maybe doesn’t have the best intentions, right after they seem the obvious subject for such a public murder. It would be a drain on the Republic’s resources, this war, and for what real reason? The Halbits’ motivation is obvious, but Sileria’s is murky. Surely that buys some sort of suspicion.”

Brynn grinned. “Some sort of doubt.”

“From the people, from the king, who cares?” There was no stopping this idea now, not with the way Verity was grinning as she said it, the way Stella’s eyes were doing silent risk calculations, and coming up with nothing big enough to comment. “That’s it then. We kill Ophelia, frame Sileria.”

For a moment, everything was within reach.

At once, a clammer sounded outside, gasps of surprise, chairs squeaking outwards suddenly. For all the private room’s soundproofing, nothing could disguise the noise of unfortunately shocking news, the kind that never meant good things for the newly named Eyes of Jade. 

James pulled the door open and cautiously stepped out, quietly hoping this wasn’t something they’d somehow caused. The rest of the party stood, peering from behind. All the better, then, that he was the one to hear what came next, out of the mouth of some pale, prissy elf, blue skin flushing purple with the horror of it all. 

“She’s been murdered, in the biggest royal massacre in history. The Queen of Sovakia is dead.”

[theashpit]

HI YES I WANT TO ASK MORE BUT HERE THROWS THESE AT U LOVINGLY AND SCUTTLES AWAY

Ford- 🍅🥭🥑

Tom- 🍎🍏🍇

Liam- 🌶️🥕🥝

I LOVE YOU *Eats all the fruits you left*

Ford

🍅 [TOMATO] How misunderstood is your OC? In-universe or IRL.

Oh ford… i feel like he lives and breathes being misunderstood by most people. But he’s never been one to particularly care about the way others see him unless he has to confront it and if that never comes then he doesn’t care.

He’s a person who kinda lives in a spotlight of a monster. People painted him that way and after a point he embraced this monstrous persona, and became what everyone wanted so much… and that was a monster to fear. But He never wanted to be this, his intention was never to be like this all he ever wanted was to make sure people didn’t suffer the way he did. The utopians are the people he wants to see him as a monster. But people like him found a lot of the time in the heat of his attacks they will be spared… by the person they were told was a monster.

So is he a monster? To some yes and to some no

I’d say he’s pretty misunderstood in someways.

🥭 [MANGO] What colours best represent them and why? Does this differ from their favourites?

Well i know he’s your favorite because he’s teal, ya know.

Turquoise is the color i associate him with the most, it genuinely is THE color for him. There’s just always been this tie with him to greenish colors but recently i changed it to turquoise and it… was eye opening.

Ford’s taken on a sort of Water vibe, not like super literal way. If anything he’s semi-aquatic but really in a metaphorical way too right. Cause he’s kinda like water, he flows like a stream through most scenarios in life. There’s moments where its rougher and faster but at the end its always water even if it came out tainted in the end.

He goes through a lot throughout the story, and goes through lots of literal changes. However by the end he’s still himself, despite it all he waded through the path life gave him like a stream of water. So yeah, if any of that makes sense thats why Ford’s color is Turquoise. Woter association.

🥑 [AVACADO] What will they never back down about, even if it makes them seem bad?

Ford will absolutely never back down on his opinion about utopians. This belief is what literally defines him to people as a murderer, because he brutally kills these people as if they mean as little to him as mere objects. But to him they aren’t more than that, they gave up their humanity the moment they decided humans do not deserve the right to be treated like living beings.

Ford’s a die hard believer in human rights and in this universe its really really close to being erased out of existence on earth. For good. He will do ANYTHING to protect the remainder of this right. Even if he has to kill the people responsible for its eradication.

Tom

🍎 [RED APPLE] Who does your OC value above all else?

Tom values his friends and family above everything else, even above his own life. He only really wants to make people smile more than anything else, he’s always been like this. It was burned into him at a young age, because he wanted to make his mom smile when she wasn’t happy.

🍏 [GREEN APPLE] How do they differ from the norm and how are they punished for it?

Tom’s a born utopian, but never was apart of the general belief system of utopia. Essentially he was not a follower of the cultish mentality that existed within his home city. He acted against the laws set in place and there were several times where he was punished severely for it.

Even once having to deal with a medicated dampening program. Which is essentially when utopia tries to correct behavior with controlled substances to prevent thoughts of “violence”. But these medications do not really do anything except progressively damage the brain more and more until the person dies.

Thankfully he was able to flush the meds. And he got out of utopia soon after… nowadays he’s safer. But the death of his mother was also a punishment for his “crimes” against utopia.

🍇 [GRAPES] What's their circle of people/their species like? What dynamic would they be called?

Tom’s circle of friends… are the bounty hunters. He himself is one, but genuinely they are the most loving little group of people. A real family for sure, but they are chaotic as hell.

Liam

🌶️ [HOT PEPPER] Who would your OC declare their sworn enemy if they could meet them?

Liam would probably call Ford his sworn enemy, but Ford wouldn’t agree cause he knows he and Liam are fine and on good terms. Liam is just a little ridiculous tbh

🥕 [CARROT] How tough is your OC against certain situations? How weak are they against others?

Liam is one of the most thick skinned individuals you will ever meet, there is NOT a lot that gets to him. In fact most things will just make him speak louder than you and insult you further, what can i say… the man has a bit of a short fuse. However, the one thing that gets him… isn’t even fight situations.

Its coming to terms with the fact someone cares about him. Especially when you consider how broken of a man he is, because Liam doesn’t want to be alive. For most of his life he has been actively trying to end it, whether that be from smoking, drugs, alcohol poisoning, he has many habits he know will eventually kill him. He doesn’t want to be alive, to put it very plainly again.

However, when it came to his now wife; Azlin. He found himself at a crossroads where he approached her at a tense moment and asked why she cared about him. At the time she responded cold and non-informative… but she found him later attempting something. And after she got him back to a quiet room with her, she came clean and he would begin a process of cleaning up. That would turn him from trying to die… to trying to live.

🥝 [KIWI FRUIT] How does their outside appearance differ from who they are?

Liam kinda… looks exactly how you imagine he acts tbh. Short angry and loud.

[yahwehscholar]

I’ve would like to write about Cain and Abel. The story is in Genesis chapter 4. It is about the first murder. It was probably the first human death as well, since Adam and Eve didn’t die from eating the fruit quite yet.

I would like to compare the two sins here. The first one was eating the fruit, the second one was killing his brother. Eating fruit, even if you’re told not to, but you think it is good to do so before you did it, is not intrinsically a bad thing. We all have to eat to survive. Killing another human being though? That’s serious. That is a huge violation against another person. Yahweh God hadn’t yet told the not to kill anyone else. This comes later, at the end of the flood.

Cain’s reaction to Yahweh’s punishment was to say his “punishment is greater than he can bear.” He was afraid someone would kill him, after he had done just that. What did Yahweh say and do?

Genesis 4:15 “Yahweh said to him, “Therefore whoever slays Cain, vengeance will be taken on him sevenfold.” Yahweh appointed a sign for Cain, so that anyone finding him would not strike him.”

This time period is important. Sevenfold, or seven times. But seven times of what? And who killed Cain, if Yahweh put this sign on him?

I believe killed Cain Yahweh during the flood, or when he limited the lifespan of man to 120 years after the flood. I don’t believe people died until then. We live such short lives now, in Genesis chapter 5 it says Adam living 800 years after he fathered Seth. That is nothing like how long humans live today. I sure don’t know of anyone who has lived 120 years.

I believe Yahweh himself was the bringer of death of Cain, and spoke the punishment that he himself would have to suffer. Yahweh would experience vengeance sevenfold.

This is because Cain talked back to Yahweh. “Am I my brother’s keeper?” “The punishment is too great for me to bear.” We all talk back to our parents. It’s part of growing up. But hopefully we mature and move beyond that kind of talk, and the feelings behind it.

I believe the sevenfold vengeance is had been against Yahweh and his Kingship. Yahweh is the one true God and King, and will continue to be once his creation realises that is best for everyone. The angels, however, are holding Yahweh prisoner until the sevenfold vengeance is taken out. Yahweh can’t be God again until this time has passed an daring about righteous vengeance and rewards to those who are loved.

It talks about the seven times in Daniel. These angels, or watchers as they are called in the book of Daniel, are originally taken out on the king of Babylon, but I believe this prophecy shadows what has been done to our one true God and King. He will be neither one until the sevenfold vengeance against him for bringing the death of Cain.

Daniel 4:16-17 “Let his heart be changed from man’s, and let an animal’s heart be given to him. Then let seven times pass over him. “‘The sentence is by the decree of the watchers, and the demand by the word of the holy ones; to the intent that the living may know that the Most High rules in the kingdom of men, and gives it to whomever he will, and sets up over it the lowest of men.’”

Daniel 4:23 “”Whereas the king saw a watcher and a holy one coming down from the sky, and saying, ‘Cut down the tree, and destroy it; nevertheless leave the stump of its roots in the earth, even with a band of iron and brass, in the tender grass of the field, and let it be wet with the dew of the sky. Let his portion be with the animals of the field, until seven times pass over him.”

Daniel and the king both understood the seven times to be seven years. But all of this is prophecy, and it needs to be considered how Yahweh has felt with Israel in the past. When they first spied out the promised land, the 12 spies stayed in Canaan for 40 days and when 10 brought back the bad report that doubted Yahweh and his abilities, they were punished by spending 40 years in the wilderness before they entered the Promised Land. A year for each day.

Also telling is the last prophecy given to Daniel. Angels whom Daniel calls men are sent to him to tell him of a great battle, but at the very end tell of the time.

Daniel 12:11-13 “From the time that the continual burnt offering is taken away, and the abomination that makes desolate set up, there will be one thousand two hundred ninety days. Blessed is he who waits, and comes to the one thousand three hundred thirty-five days. “But go you your way until the end; for you will rest, and will stand in your inheritance at the end of the days.”

The time spoken of is 1,290 days and 1,335 days. I believe that these times don’t overlap but are two halves of one week. And these days have a literal fulfilment I am sure, but the larger fulfilment is going to take years instead of days. It started with the downfall of the original nation of Israel and destruction of the original temple in Jerusalem. This nation represents Yahweh’s kingship through his anointed king. It started with fulfilment of prophecy from Isaiah upon Daniel himself and his fellow princes who were taken to Babylon and made eunuchs.

This was so long ago. We are told by Jesus that we will not know the day or the hour, but we will be able to observe the season. When I first started this line of thinking about the 1,290 days and 1,335 days being years that were added together. There are so many places in prophecy that talk about a time, times, and half a time, adding together to make 3 1/2 times. But these three and a half years, counting a year for each day, happen twice.

I first used the starting point of 607 BCE that the Jehovah’s Witnesses calculated by counting the prophesied 70 years of desolations backward from when the new temple construction began. This brought me to 2019 CE, and that was a few years ago now. But this prophecy is so long, stretching millennia. There has to be room for Yahweh God to work. A tolerance is what we call it in the engineering world. Yes, your blueprints have to have an amount the thing built can vary in measurement. In this case, we have 2,625 years so we must give Yahweh God a few years’ tolerance.

What is so funny is that the Jehovah’s Witnesses cling on so tight to the year 1914 ce as the start of this “time of the end.” They will not listen to me about this time. The JW’s are so stuck in being humble they have forgotten to think for themselves. I also think the temple was not destroyed in 607 bce, but that was yhw year king Nebuchadnezzar first came to Jerusalem, subjugated Israel, and took back to Babylon the princes.

Daniel 1:1 “In the third year of the reign of Jehoiakim king of Judah Nebuchadnezzar king of Babylon came to Jerusalem and besieged it.”

That was when this sevenfold vengeance that is taken out on Yahweh started. Jehoiakim started reigning in 609 bce according to the Jewish Virtual Library. This would make his third year 607 or 606 bce. And are we supposed to subtract one yet because there is no year zero? Tolerance, I tell you that Yahweh love and Yahweh chaos need room to work.

I’ve been having this thought since 2015 or before. COVID-19 sure came on time, but it was not the fulfilment, only the start. I don’t know what the real fulfilment of this prophecy is goi my to look like, but mankind will be changed for good. In Daniel chapter 2, the world governments were represented by an idol, an image of a man that was struck on the feet by a “stone cut not by hands” that smashed the whole image and blew away as chaff, while the stone that struck the mountain filled the whole earth. I can’t wait for that.

Yahweh awesome!

[brascu]

writing pattern tag game

rules: list the first paragraph of your last 10 posted fics and see if there’s a pattern.

Things had been changing. Viktor, as a whole, had been changing. [If you want, if you let. Ben/Viktor]

It was the fifth friday in a row that Klaus, Five and Ben had been drinking together. It had been an undeniable pleasure for all of them as they found out each time they had more in common, especially Five and Ben. [The Apple. Klaus/Five Klaus/Ben Five&Ben]

Klaus needed some place to hide from the cold. [warm. Klaus/Viktor]

Ben hated therapy. [Ben hated Therapy. Ben/Klaus] (lol)

Five got to Dallas, 1963, a week or so before Kennedy was murdered. It would’ve been weird for anyone born in 1989 to be there for a completely different reason than his, like traveling through time, but Five was used to it by now. What was weird for him was that he knew he was supposed to make sure Kennedy died, so there was no point for The Commission to send him a week earlier than needed to prepare. A day or two would suffice, he knew, but there he was, a week too early. [Blowin' in the Wind. Klaus/Five]

Ben wished he could sleep. His eyes were begging to be shut, so he laid on his couch and closed them. He had some music going on, trying to see if it would get him to sleep, or at least make him less conscious of the sounds coming from his belly. He didn’t have a thing to eat since saturday and that day was probably wednesday, he wasn’t sure. [we got you. Klaus/Ben Five/Ben]

Ben was bored out of his mind. He hated everything about stripclubs and after a while he was just numb by being there. Every night looked the same, the same people danced, the same music played and he was the only sober person there. [Bored and Odd. Klaus/Ben]

“So,” Ben was probably the worst person trying to make small talk. “you died.” And in the worst scenarios. [So you died. Ben/Klaus]

Klaus was dead. [Death is Always on Time. Five/Klaus Five/Delores Klaus/Ben Ben/Viktor]

Ben was glad. He had just got out from a meeting and his project had been complimented by everyone, even that one higher up who hated him for absolutely no reason, and now he could just get to lunch without the anxiousness he had blocking his stomach by breakfast. On top of that, it had been a week since he found out this family restaurant, not so far from his workplace, that was far too asian for his white workmates to tag along. The cook there made just the best kimchi he had since the world had been rewritten, and he was already watering his mouth just from smelling the air around the place.[Bitten Fruit. Klaus&Ben Five/Klaus]

No one tagged me, but I wanted to play. You can too, if you want.

7/10 have names as their first word. Ben is clearly the most popular name to start a story lol Also, I must say that it's mostly Ben2. (actually, only four of those have brelly Ben as a character)

Klaus is in 11 romantic/sexual relationships. Ben is in 9. Five is in 6 Viktor is 3. Delores is tagged as a couple only once.

half of those have a 1 line paragraph to wellcome the reader. But even when they're longer, I see that I'll use a short sentence to mostly tell how a character is feeling. If not, I'll introduce a point in time & a bit of their lives.

another thing I noticed is that half of those are porn and I keep telling myself that I don't write porn lol anyway

[takeeachdayonebookatatime]

Why did you elbow me? 129

Achilles Castle part 34

Castle: pov we are finally now on the way home. While Lanie and Kate were helping out with the accident, I texted Mother letting her know what was going on. So she wouldn't worry about us because it was getting late. I notice Kate is awfully quiet in the back seat. Lanie says it's because she fell asleep. I don't blame her, with her fatigue she gets tired more quickly. Kate slept the rest of the way home.

Jim: pov Alexis and Dave got home 40 minutes ago. Castle, Katie and Lanie are finally home. I head outside to help them unload the car. Katie is asleep in the backseat. I very gently wake her up and help her inside. Castle tells us how they got to meet the band, and Katie got brought up on stage. He then shows us the video, I ask about the accident they helped out with Lanie and Katie tells us all about it. I'm glad they could help.

Kate: pov I'm so tired then again it's very late. Carter should be coming later in the morning before lunch. In the morning everything is set up so we can take the photos for the AHA event. I'm wearing the custom shirt Castle made me as a gift a few years back. For breakfast I choose cheerios with fruit on the side. I take my meds, blood thinners and antibiotics. Everyone else is having ham, fried eggs and hash browns. Lanie takes the photos inside and outside. Alexis then heads into Castle's office to edit the photos with him. I think they look cute so far. Carter is having car trouble and will be coming later in the day if he can.

Lanie: pov Kate's phone is ringing its officer Dillon asking if he and officer Cram can come over to ask me and Lanie some questions about the accident. She says sure. Me and Kate head into the bathroom to change her bandage on her hand. I have to access her pod today to give Kate her once a week meds. She grabs the supplies needed and lays on the sofa, I lift up her shirt. I fill the needle with the meds and inject it into the pod.

Officer Cram: pov me and Officer Dillon arrive at the house it's a very nice looking house. I notice a teenager walking into another room of the house. Castle says it's his daughter. on the wall between the kitchen and the living room is a defibrillator. I've got to know if you have ever used that defibrillator. Lanie says thankfully no, but we did have to use the one at the loft. I ask if, nervous. First time dad bought it. Castle says no nervous husband did after the cardiac surgeon recommended we get it. Oh, someone has heart issues. Kate says yes I do, being shot in the chest/heart does that to you. She then explains everything to us. Wow I don't know how she survived that.

Offer Dillon: pov since we have more questions and it's almost lunch time. Castle asks us what we want for lunch so he can order it. Officer Cram has diabetes so he can't eat certain foods. We decided on sandwiches and Castle will order brown rice bowls for officer Cram and Kate. Officer Cram says it's hard having diabetes on the job, always worrying if your sugar is too high or low. But I can't imagine what it's like for you Kate having a heart condition, especially after suffering cardiac arrest wondering if it will happen again.

Castle: pov Kate mentions to officer Cram and Dillon about this case. We had 3 years into our partnership. The lady murdered was a psychic. She was found in her pull out couch. There was a note talking about her murder the thing is the note was written before she died and she wrote it.

Kate: pov Her daughter told me she also had a gift like her mother. And a person named Alexander would save my life at a future date. This was months before I was shot and guess what Castle's birth name is Richard Alexander Castle. Both officers say no way, I tell them I don't believe in that stuff but something definitely happened. Castle mentions we solved the 3XK case and the Kelly Neiman case. Dad mentioned how proud he is of me for catching Joanna's killer and putting senator Bracken in jail. Lanie says what about the time traveler case. Castle thought the person was from the future and you didn't believe him. Then you spilled your coffee all over the original copy of the letter that was evidence.

Jim: pov Castle says what do you mean spilled her coffee all over the letter she never told me this. He mentions the copy they had was covered in coffee and they couldn't figure out why. Lanie then says it was stained because of Katie she called me all freaked out let me tell you the stains matched. Castle is very much shocked by this but except Katie's apology for not telling him. Martha says what about the case of the woman found frozen at the construction site. Katie says her husband murdered her then he supposedly died because of gang violence there was no proof if her father did it. Both police officers say thank you for the food but we must be going.

Alexis: pov we have it all planned out so dad can spend some alone time with Kate. Me and Dave are going to some beach event for a bit. Gram is going to some play, Lanie is going to get a massage and Jim is going to some meeting for ill family members Lanie suggested it to Castle. Lucky for dad everything was around the same time tonight. Kate is being lazy today since Carter couldn't make it. Lanie is doing a few of the exercises with Kate instead for a little bit. Dad got some nerf guns online so Kate can do target practice with them.

Dave: pov Lanie is keeping score and Martha and Jim are just watching. The targets are set up in the backyard, Mr Castle is sitting in his wheelchair. First person to get the most kill shots wins. Even with an injured hand Kate manages to win. To be continued. ……….

[the-firebird69]

There's a huge huge fact going on it's a f**** fight they're all trying to be me and seems idiots Stan is the head guy but he's almost a clone of me can't help it cuz the others want to use them. And it's ridiculous this idiot is sitting there trying to imitate the voice on TV he doesn't have it quite yet he's doing it to the person who was the demon in other words there was nobody there so manifestation and our sop is to turn them to humans so here comes this idiot I don't know where right now yelling at me tell me I can't see that that says you're an idiot and it's stand and it's the heat of the night it's my show and I'm there listening to those crap I'm looking at a stupid gloves his dumb costume he looks like the guy from Texas chainsaw massacre or whatever that fruit loop movie is is both of them but they're falling apart and they're dead and they're eating people and they think it's scary enough to put on TV it's just gross and people kill them and they're stupid okay they're using the same method and they're not winning battles and they're not winning fights and they just keep doing it it's hard it's horrific they're so dumb. It's like a lizard going back to the same spot and all the lizards died and just keeps doing it and we've seen lizards do it. This a****** dopes with all sorts of stuff and he won't stop and her friend next door is telling them all sorts of stuff go away or else everyone's after you you're getting arrested every day you're getting killed every day by Jason he won't back off him just sit there saying stupid s*** and doing stupid s*** all day most of it's women's stuff. The idiot b**** doesn't get it either you say it right to their face and they don't understand what you're saying think what we're saying is we're going to kill you McAfee for what you're doing with this idiot to our friend here that's what we're saying and you end up blabbing and you feel better and you go off and do it and they kill you. They're finding trumpsters bodies. In a sense as Dan is probably in the middle whichever one he is stupid murders but they kill each other all the time and it's not just one person and they're all doing this stupid crap but really in this case it is Dan and he's a massive a****** and needs attention. So we think the guy playing the sun is Billy z because Dick Tracy's car is on site and he's saying he's investigating but he's causing it and he's probably murdering most of them as it's been found out with Reagan and JFK.

Your son says it they're going to eat their way to the top on Australia and New Zealand and it's the clones and they killed Sarah and it's because he talked she talked to Tommy f he lost his whole life and family and everything to them and they said that they don't have any use for his family they killed his whole clan and it was sizable he said we have to rule from both and they wouldn't listen and the torture this s*** out of him. So they're riding along and Tommy fstard laughing and it was at Otis and sunset what kind of the same situation a little and said yeah and then said I'm not gay and that adds to your torture not to the clothes he said nod to the clones and he started laughing so loud that sounds like what's wrong and they're driving along and it was one of the weirdest scenes I've ever seen two very tortured people having a decent time and laughing and it is on recording and we have a video it is Max doing and it's over the top and said the poor boy is being tortured so much it's not right and he said this I don't think I have any stomach for it anymore and the clones are nuts they're insane people and there's a whole bunch of them and Tommy f is more solid thought than they do and he's got a plan it is happy to because it was about computers but boy he's kind of going off the wall down here but you just saw what happened one of the clones killed the lady and framed him and it's not much he can do and he told Sarah there's not much you can do in life he can't cut and run he can't go somewhere else and he's a cursing and she almost got sick when she heard the story again and inside her head she's thinking nobody has been tortured like that that I know of ever nobody has ever got it that bad and then she goes Chris is a close second. We left a little and he left and they're back to their battle with husband wife and they discovered something these clones are at us and it's not what Tommy F was saying but they go after him and bother him and harass him and they're sicker than hell a lot of people caught on to it it's really the most weirdest thing I've ever seen

Thor Freya

[gayfrenchtoast]

Okay fine we're doing this. I havent read the books and I'm probably not going to I've only seen the movies so I'm sorry if anything I say is contradictory or has already been stated.

So! Descendants 3 was kinda shit and I dont like it but especially because of the ending because everybody was like "oh yeah island is open and we're all happy with no worries or implications about free villains or people being spiteful about being imprisoned for years!" In fact if anything they joked about those things.

The island is basically its own culture, I can't say how long it's been around, long enough for some almost adult kids to be about and to develop a kind of community.

The Isle is a place of poverty, people are dirty and on the street, eveyone steals from each other and most people don't put much effort into appearance upkeep (personal or of the sourounding area) not because of laziness or being "evil" but because they clearly don't have time or luxury to do such things or possibly even the clean water. Does the Isle have clean water?? How to they get electricity??? Someone tell me!

Another thing that I've noticed is easy to see but is not much explicitly said is the unique style of those on the Isle. As previously stated they don't have much but those who have the most "power" and such on the Isle are the best example of this As they have the most colourful outfits. However these outfits are often made out of patches and ripped things put together, even salvaged things like nets and chains as we can see on thing like Uma and Harry's outfits in D3 they make the best of what they've got and they do fantastic because their outfits are intricate and detailed and just tell you everything you need to know about them. Which is why it's a damn s h a m e when the original VK's ajust their style to be more like Auradon's. That's not an improvement! Be proud of where you came from!! It's like they forgot what it was like being on the Isle in D3!

Moving on, here's something that was touched on in D2 but not enough. Equality. On the Isle there is basically equal opportunity as in saying everything is shit and nome cares what gender and presumably what sexuality you are as long as you can work. Sexism is shown to be almost casual in aurodon from the looks of it, Chad makes sexist comments and litterally none else says anything or seems to see anything wrong with it except Jay who caves to pressure from peers and expectations. He does redeem himself because he's from the isle and he knows you shouldn't give a shit about anyone's gender or anything. If they can do something and ask to be included you give them that opportunity. The sexism is also implied in the way that the rule book has men written specifically in the first place and that it has taken until then for anyone but boys to be allowed on any kind of sports team. We never see it! It seems to be the hetronormative veiw where the boys do sport and girls do cheerleeding and other genders? What other genders? Never heard of that? BAD AURADON!! I bet there's so many trans folk on the island just living their lives, thinking Aurodon is the better place and not knowing that it's a cis het filled nightmare.

Okay no I'm headcannoning now, if their are now a bunch of Isle kids at auradon prep they find it fucking aweful the way all these preppy royals are treating them and make the first LGBT club in Auradon. There is lots of pushback and they get bullied a fuck ton for making themselves the most prominent queer folk in the school until a fight breaks out and the club demand that they should be treated better, taking all the evidence to fairy godmother who is very hesitant because COME ON she's never been that great she is biased to Auradon kids and if putting away those in the Isle is brought up she is all on it, she is jelly spined about doing anything against the royal kids. So the kids are like "Fine, if you won't help us we'll take this to the King himself!" Well mainly the queer mom's of the group (you know the ones I'm talking about) who lead the others and protect the anxious queers as they storm to Ben at his fucking locker and demand an audience because they are being harassed and bullied and none is doing anything. Ben had no idea there was even a LGBT club (too busy ig) and is gassed there is one for a moment before he's like "wait people are harassing you?" So Bisexual King Ben gets his lovely Bi wife and they start coming to club meetings and investing in the pins and stuff the club makes. Most club members are pleased but the queer mom's are apprehensive that this will help until some assholes come to the club to do their usual bullying only to find King and Queen Beast themselves siting there with rainbow bracelets and bi pins and all trying to have a nice old time eating their fucking cupcakes what the fuck are yall doing? The bullying dies down quick once they realise it ain't gonna fly, the other OG VK's that hear about this become members and very protective over their queer children. Did I mention Dizzy and Ceila are a part of the club? They're girlfriend's. Celia is one of the queer moms. Harry becomes one of the biggest protectors over the group as the pan dad. He's been going around snogging everyone and anyone wholl snog him everyone already knew he was queer they just didn't have the balls to try and bully him over it as much as they bullied the lil club members. But now Harry can often be seen in jackets and shit with pan and general queer patches and pins and running around with his gay children yelling "MOVE WE'RE GAY!!" He totally calls them his queer crew. Anyway as a result lots of queer royals start coming out of the woodwork, obvs Lonnie is one of them, and the club eventually serves to bring members of Auradon and the Isle close together.

Where was I? Yada yada auradon expects girls to be pretty princesses and boys to be brave knights or dashing princes. It's shit and should stop being portrayed as good. Moving on!

Food! One of the things we'll established in all movies is that the food of the Isle is shit compared to food of Auradon. The Isle has no fresh fruit which likely means its almost impossible for things to grow there which is fair because again there doesn't seem to be much fresh water and there are always clouds overhead so no sun. Maybe there is some people trying really hard to grow stuff but the general attitude of the Isle seems to be "there is no time for that" and fruits are forgotten so much that the VK's litterally don't knownwhat they are when they come across them. That and anything containing sugar. Actually it's mention by Dizzy and Celia that they enjoy the fact that the cake dosent have dirt or flies so basically food there is terrible. We don't see much food on the Isle but what we do see seems to be beans, eggs, chips and shellfish. Basically protine and carbs that can be easily stored and produced. To be fair beans are kidna good for you but they're likely a sign that if they get any imports from the mainland it is canned stuff. Prison food. There's probably some chef villain that is trying their best to make good food out of the shit but honestly the Isle dwellers should be angry that they've been deprived of good food for so long not happy they're finally been given decency.

Moving on, music! Auradon dosent have nearly as many musical numbers it seems, the Isle songs have a distinct style, to them, the villains that basically "founded" the place were masters of the dramatic songs (with backup or solo) so banging music is basically ingrained in the music's culture, even for battle as we see with the fight between Mal and Uma in D3. Meanwhile Auradon seems to have mainly romance and "I want" songs. Even Audrey's villain song is basically an I want song.

Okay let's talk about the Villains. We've established that the VK's are not inherently bad. However not all of them can be totally good and there are legit OG Villains just kinda chillin on the Isle. They've obviously lost quite a bit of their power, motivation and sanity (isolation will do that to ya as they lost everything and the VKs know no different) but deadass? They were bad guys. You can try to rehabilitate them sure but you've basically just let them free roam, they could make a runner and you wouldn't get the chance. They were also shitty patents which is brushed over/joked about in the interaction between Carlos and...man I feel bad I forgot her name deadass their relationship seemed to come out of nowhere in the second film she didn't seem interested in them at all and friendzoned them multiple times I'm pretty sure Disney did that becaue queer kids were relating to Carlos and headcanoning them as queer (which they deffinatly are) but deadass their mom is an attempted animal murderer and has hurt her child as we can see from how they're afraid of her and her rhetoric and yet it's "haha I'm afraid to meet your ma!" "Me too cus im a dog! Lol!" Fuuuuck offfffff

I think I'm running out of thoughts so here's a last one for now; with the magical barrier down a bunch of magical Villains kids should be coming out for the woodwork. We know Mal has magic basically stored in her so it's is possible, she technically doesn't need the spellbook to do magic it is just inherent to her. So with the diverse range of people from the isle there are deffinatly magic folk in there. Actually if we're following Disney movie law I saw something mentioning Jay being half Genie and yeah! He should be half Genie! Jafar got turned into a Genie he's probably only human because of the barrier! Oh also Ben should be able to go beast on command as long as he had a better beast form than he did in the movies. And give him back the beard and fangs like fuck you he looked so much better

Okay I'm done for now

[ayybtch]

Psychotic

Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Summary: You really love animals, Bucky not so much. A random TikTok brings to light exactly what Bucky thinks of you.

Word Count: 1,776

Warnings: Being told no to getting animals, a couple swear words here and there, blink and you miss it suggestiveness, and a very strange TikTok

A/N: Happy Valentines Day everyone! I watched this TikTok months ago and absolutely lost it when I saw it, so definitely give it a watch! Dividers made by the lovely @firefly-graphics​

A Mutual Weirdness Masterlist

Days off were a rare occurrence for Bucky. Rarer still were days off that coincided with yours, and it practically required cosmic intervention for both of you to be off on a weekend. This was the first Saturday Bucky had off in almost two months and he planned on spending it doing absolutely nothing.

He made a point to sleep in and stay in bed as long as he possibly could. Once the grumbling of his stomach finally won out, the day would start off with a giant breakfast followed by a long, hot shower. The remainder of the day would involve him sitting on his ass while enjoying a good book or watching TV. He’d stay where he was until he needed to eat and that’s the way he liked it.

Today, he wanted to make some progress on the strange Romanian murder-mystery novel Wanda had recommended. She swore up and down that it was one of the best she’s ever read, but so far Bucky was not impressed. The pacing was too slow, the characters were too dull, and the murder itself was not all that intriguing. He would have stopped already if it hadn’t been for Wanda pestering him about it.

He had been laying on the couch completely immersed for almost an hour trying to solve the case before the lead detective when you came rushing into the room. You climbed into his lap and sat there staring at him, eyes unsettlingly wide. Bucky peered back at you over the top of his book, suspicious as to what could possibly be running through your head. A small smile started to appear on your face, but you remained silent.  

“Can I help you?” Bucky asked after a few minutes without any change to your expression, which was growing more and more manic-looking by the second.

Your eyes seemed to snap back in focus as he spoke and the rest of your face became serious. “So I had an idea…” you said cautiously, suddenly far more serious than he had ever seen you look before. “What if we got chickens? Not too many, just like three. I think three is a good number.”

Bucky stared at you in disbelief. “We live in an apartment. Of course you can’t have chickens,” he said flatly. You rolled your eyes at his response.

“Obviously not right now, but in the future when we’re not living in an apartment. You know, after you and I get hitched and find a house we like.”

All of the confusion and concerns Bucky had were thrown out the window as he processed what you said. You want to buy a house with him? You want to marry him? The thought of being with you forever made his heart skip a beat and filled him with an overwhelming urge to kiss you. He realized you were still watching him expectantly, waiting for an answer. “S-Sure, I guess. I never really liked chickens though -”

He wasn’t even able to finish his sentence before your lips were pressed against his.

“You are the best! Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!” you yelled, kissing him all over his face between thank you’s.

When you broke apart, an excited squeal left you that had his ears ringing. You laid down fully on his chest and started rambling about how nice it would be to have some land so you could have a nice big garden filled with every fruit and vegetable imaginable, a decent sized back patio or porch for friends to come over, and plenty of space for the chickens to have a giant coop. You even started listing out possible names for the chickens. Your seemingly endless ramble ended unexpectedly as you trailed off mid-sentence, gasping slightly after a moment. You picked your head up just enough off his chest to look him in the eyes.

“If we have enough room, can we also have goats?”

Bucky groaned, “Don’t push it, Doll. I’ve barely agreed to the chickens.” He pulled you back down onto his chest and placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head before he continued reading.

It was almost a week later before Bucky had his next day off. He decided to plan a long-overdue date night. It was nothing fancy, just a casual dinner at a restaurant you liked followed up with dessert. After you left the restaurant, the two of you made your way through a stretch of Central Park. He had intended for it to be a romantic walk, full of hand-holding and kissing that maybe could lead to something else once you were back at the apartment. Instead, it quickly turned into one of the worst decisions of his life.

Everything was going according to plan until you spotted the raccoon family of three hanging out in the tree not far off the path. Bucky didn’t even need to look at you to know you were staring at them with the same heart eyes you always stare at animals with.

The raccoons were in a relatively low tree branch, each snacking on some food they had scavenged from a nearby trash can. You pulled Bucky off the sidewalk and into the grass. Your excitement grew with each step you took towards the tree.

“Bucky look at their little hands! How cute are they?” You whisper yelled, practically jumping up and down with excitement. You were so focused on them that it gave Bucky the chance to watch and appreciate how enamored you were. While it drove him nuts sometimes how many animals you wanted, it never stopped being adorable to him how passionate you were about them. Bucky had no doubt you’d manage to sweet-talk him into more than he’d care to admit, but if it meant seeing you smile like this every day then it’ll be worth it. He was so lost in his thoughts of what your future may hold that he hardly heard what you were saying to the raccoons. It wasn’t until you finally turned to look at him that he tuned back into what you were saying.

“Do you think raccoons would make good pets?”

Without a word, he picked you up and slung you over his shoulder before turning to walk away, shaking his head as he did.

“Oh my god, babe! Look at this baby cow!” you gushed, bursting out of the bedroom and into the kitchen where Bucky was making breakfast. “It’s so fucking fluffy, I need it.” The emphasis on need left Bucky scoffing as you shoved the phone into his hand. You stood there and stared at him, grinning ear to ear as you continued to ramble about the baby cow.

He eventually had to cut you off, “Doll, we’ve been over this a dozen times. You don’t actually want a cow, you just want a cow you can hang out with. Now sit down and eat your eggs before they get cold.” He scooped out some scrambled eggs onto a plate before placing it at your usual spot at the counter.

You grumbled slightly before sitting down on the barstool, stabbing your eggs harder than necessary with your fork. “You didn’t even acknowledge how cute it is.”

“It’s very cute. But I’ve already agreed to quite the menagerie so I have to put my foot down somewhere. I’ve already said yes to the chickens and it’s at least maybe on goats, and possibly a pig if we have enough room.”

“I’ve already said yes to the chickens and maybe on goats and pigs,” you said mockingly. “What difference does a cow make if we’ve already got all of those?” you asked, mouth full of food.

Bucky stared at you, shaking his head and sighing. “You’re lucky I love you, woman.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and sat down to join you for breakfast.

It was almost a month later before the two of you finally were able to have a quiet night together. The evening had been spent cooking dinner, making a mess in the kitchen as you did, followed by making a different kind of mess in the living room not long after. Now, the two of you were laying in bed together winding down for the night. Bucky was reading while you laid there scrolling mindlessly on your phone. You giggled from time to time, pausing to show him a funny meme here and there, but for the most part, the room was quiet.

It wasn’t until you were in full-on giggles that Bucky leaned his book against his chest and stared at you waiting for an explanation.

Once the giggles died down, you rolled slightly to be closer to him. “You have to watch this wack ass video.” Your laughter started up again before you even hit play.

Bucky watched as the guy in the video kept pulling out stranger and stranger animals. He chuckled throughout the video, but it wasn’t until a thought struck him at the end that he really burst out laughing.

“That’s going to be you in five years if I haven’t already married you and kept your psychotic ass from getting an unreasonable amount of animals.”

Your laughter died and you stared at him reproachfully. “Bucky, baby...do you think I’m psychotic?” Somehow you managed to sound unconcerned by the possibility of being psychotic. If anything, you seemed almost amused.

“Honestly? I think you’re on the brink of snapping sometimes,” he said with a slight shrug.

You stared back at him, not fully sure if he was joking or not. The serious look on his face confirmed he wasn’t joking and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Good to know you think I’m one mental breakdown away from snuggling with a possum, you jerk,” you teased, placing a quick peck on his cheek.

Bucky turned to fully face you, looking you dead in the eyes. “Be honest with me, if the possum was replaced by one of those raccoons we saw a couple weeks ago, how unreasonable would that seem to you?”

Your face felt hot and you stuttered for a moment before going quiet. “I guess that’s fair,” you mumbled, eyes rolling slightly. “But raccoons are cuter, you can’t blame me for wanting to snuggle one.”

“I know, you fucking weirdo. Now come here,” Bucky said, grabbing you and pulling you into his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and a comfortable silence fell over you. A few minutes later, Bucky spoke again.

“For the record though, possums and raccoons are both firmly on the ‘no’ list.”

[kaizokuou-ni-naru]

The Voyage So Far: Dressrosa (Part Two)

east blue (1 | 2) || alabasta (1 | 2) || skypiea || water 7 || enies lobby || thriller bark || paramount war (1 | 2) || fishman island || punk hazard || dressrosa (1 | 2) || || whole cake island || wano (1 | 2)

wild how this is upwards of 750 chapters in and yet i still get a big dumb smile whenever luffy declares he’s going to be king of the pirates. one piece is a series very much driven by its main characters and their goals and dreams- i don’t think it would be nearly as good if the main character was anyone but monkey d. luffy. 

personally, i always just feel kind of proud whenever he says this, because- yeah!! he is!! that’s luffy, he’s going to be king of the pirates, and we’ve known that since day fucking one. 

i really think there’s something to be said about usopp never taking credit for saving luffy and law from sugar. it’s arguably his greatest feat in the entire series thus far- an impossible, perfect shot across an entire country, with an angry mob inches from his back- and he never even tells anybody he did it. he’s come a long way from someone who tells tall tales about heroic acts he never did to someone who doesn’t even feel the need to take credit for ones he really did, so long as his friends are safe.

i really like how corazon’s introduction and characterization throughout the flashback is handled. at the start of law’s flashback, we know a few things about him already: that he’s someone law loved very much, and that he was killed by doflamingo. we know how this ends. 

but then cora is introduced as a clumsy mute weirdo who nearly kills law as one of the very first things he does, and we as the audience aren’t really sure how to reconcile that- and then the rest of the flashback is us, along with law, slowly discovering what a complicated and contradictory but ultimately good person he is. something very similar happens with the asl flashback- we know the endpoint of luffy and ace’s relationship, but the flashback is all about how they got there, from attempted murder to willing self-sacrifice. 

i think it’s really cool the way law and doflamingo’s backstories are layered together. they’re characters who exist with a lot of parallels and similarities between them already, which is something they’re both clearly aware of- i’ve mentioned before i think the only real difference between them is that law got corazon where doflamingo got the executives- and presenting their backstories simultaneously only makes that more obvious. 

i’ve always found it so interesting that we get what’s pretty much our only substantial exposition about the will of d direct from a former celestial dragon. it makes sense- cora’s basically the only character we’ve met who both has this information and is willing to share it-  but i don’t know, there’s something that feels very poetic to me about him having this information that’s clearly been suppressed and hidden by the dragons and willingly choosing to share it in order to help protect law, a D, who should technically be the very enemy he was once taught to hate and fear. 

i really like corazon. 

it fucks me up that we can tell the exact moment cora dies from the moment law starts making noise again. 

this might be a controversial take? i’m not sure. but i like baby five. i think her and sai’s relationship is really sweet, and people might complain about her getting off easy or whatever but i’m honestly glad she gets a happy ending after being thoroughly emotionally abused and broken her entire life. and on a lighter note, she’s also just a fun character to watch through the whole arc- the running gag with her crying whenever law glares at her is still one of my favorites in the whole series. 

the shot of robin’s bloody back is a favorite of mine, because it’s a reveal that doesn’t get lingered on at all, and yet at once it gives the entire proceeding scene a lot more weight when we understand just how much pain she must’ve been in the entire time. and yet she never even flinched or faltered while protecting rebecca. nico robin is very, very strong. 

there’s something so deliciously fitting about diamante’s final fall ending with him cracking his head on scarlett’s grave, and something so lovely about kyros and rebecca finally getting their proper reunion there, when neither of them ever really got a chance to mourn.

law’s line about the strawhats trailing nothing but miracles in their wake is one of the first ones i always think of when i think about the strawhats in general and luffy in particular, mostly because it’s so true. from the very beginning, the strawhats have been doing the impossible, from sailing to the sky to breaking in and out of the world’s greatest prison, and law saw that and staked all his hopes on it and they did not let him down. 

also i think it’s very cool of law to, when held at gunpoint and down an arm, grin, flip doflamingo off, and tell him to eat shit and that luffy is going to kick his ass. love that for him.

i think dressrosa does a very good job of making the victory against doflamingo equally law’s and luffy’s. they cooperate and trade off fighting him throughout the arc to great effect, and i think it’s pretty clear that neither of them could have tackled the massive challenge of dressrosa alone. 

while the final fight is luffy’s, it’s made clear that that’s only after law’s done absolutely everything he could and spent the majority of the arc distracting doflamingo, keeping him occupied, and even fucking shredding his insides with pure radiation before finally needing to tap out. i think it’s a good balance, given that luffy is the protagonist but law’s grudge against doflamingo is the driving force behind the entire arc. 

conqueror’s haki clashes are always very cool, pretty much regardless of who or where or why, but the one between luffy and doflamingo is a favorite. 

one of the things that’s always impressed me about one piece in comparison to other shounen series is how it handles its powerscaling- in that it does it well with a gradual increase and villains who vary widely in strength instead of every arc necessarily needing to be bigger and better than the last- and i think the way it handles powering up the main characters is a big part of that. 

through the entirety of one piece thus far, i’d say luffy has had three major power-ups- second and third gear in enies lobby, haki at the timeskip, and gear four here in dressrosa (an argument could also be made for ryuuou in wano, but i think that’s less major than these others). this helps prevent runaway powerscaling and also makes new power-ups feel like a genuine event, which i really like. 

i once referred to luffy as ‘hopebringer’ in a conversation with friends, and it’s a descriptor for him i think sums up really well how he manages to save so many people while insistently not being a hero. luffy inspires people, inspires whole countries, starting all the way back with coby in romance dawn. it’s one of the reasons i think it’s fitting how thoroughly he’s associated with the dawn. 

doflamingo is very, very scary. which is interesting, because he’s indisputably less powerful someone like kaidou, but at the same time i find him a much scarier villain, and i think it comes down to doflamingo’s gleeful, wanton cruelty. not that kaidou is in any way shape or form a nice person, but our first introduction to doflamingo is him forcing marines to attack each other just because he’s a little bored. he hurts people just because he can, and finds it funny. 

relating to my earlier comment about hope, i really like how the whole country comes together at the end to cheer luffy on and count down to his return. it makes it feel all the more triumphant when it does, especially for the citizens of dressrosa who’ve been suffocating under doflamingo’s rule for years and can finally, finally see freedom.

other people have put a lot more thought of the symbolism of doflamingo’s eyes and glasses than i intend to, but i’ll settle for saying that it’s the breaking of the glasses, before anything else, before the birdcage even vanishes from the sky and everyone is safe, that shows us that, at long last, doflamingo is well and truly defeated. his glasses break, and so does his power. 

i’ve written a longer post about it before (here) but it’s a recurring motif that one piece’s worst villains are those that steal people’s freedom, including, in the cruelest cases, the freedom to express their emotions openly. we see it with koala and the celestial dragons, with the failed smile fruits in wano, and here, too, with kyros. and, much like koala, triumph for him means finally being able to cry. 

i mentioned it back in the first post, but i’m so, so happy rebecca and kyros get the happy ending they deserve. they’ve both been fighting a war that they never should have had to for years and years, and they both deserve to get to just live, now, peaceful and quiet and together and surrounded by flowers. 

i really dig the note dressrosa ends on. it’s happy, of course, obviously, with the liberation of the country, kyros and rebecca’s happy ending, the creation of the grand fleet, even law getting some degree of closure through his talk with sengoku, but it also leaves this massive, gaping question- what now? 

in a way, doflamingo’s speech here follows up on law’s new era speech from punk hazard. luffy and law have just thrown a major wrench into the delicate power equilibrium of the entire new world, and we have all these characters out there who might be affected, who might want to take advantage, who might try to seize the throne. 

[sexbirthdeaths]

if i had an orchard

ship: morgan x garcia

summary: penelope is constantly shifting, growing with each passing day as a sapling grows to a tree. with each day he learns more and more what metamorphosis looks like, up close and personal - there are some things a book cannot teach you. and he can’t look away.

warnings: mentions of minor character death (hank morgan, the boy morgan finds in the junkyard), episode 3x09 “penelope”, rotting fruit/maggot imagery, religious imagery, implied murder (boy in junkyard), toxic masculinity

words: 3000

Derek is eight when his dad takes him camping for the first time. It’s the summer of 81, Sarah is entering middle school and Desiree is about to start Kindergarten, so after all of the stress of school applications, Hank proposes they just go out, enjoy the sights of Illinois.

So they go to Buffalo Rock, and he loves it, loves the smell of nature and the feeling of the sun on his skin. He plays soccer with his dad by the campsite whilst Sarah burns through her summer reading list and Desiree cries because she doesn’t like the bugs and she’s too small to play with the boys, and it’s the best summer of his life.

One night, his father pulls a bag of apples from the rucksack, suggests they bake them in some tinfoil over the fire. So while Fran puts Desiree away to bed, Hank sits him down by the campfire and shows him how to pare an apple with a penknife. Slow, using his thumb to stabilise the blade, careful not to cut his finger.

He cuts it straight through the core, hands Derek one of the slices to parcel up carefully in tinfoil. And once those are on the flames, he gives him the knife, another apple from the bag.

“Be careful,” Hank guides him slowly, hand hovering over Dereks’ own, “You don’t want to cut yourself.”

Derek peels it clean and precise, he’s always been a bit of a perfectionist like that. But when he cuts down the core of the apple, and the two pieces fall away in his palm, something is wrong. Very wrong.

His hand retracts in an instant, sends the apple flying, maggots spilling onto the ground into a writhing mass. His stomach is churning, twisting itself in disgust at the sight, and his father stomps it with his boot.

“That one was rotten,” Hank says, pulls the knife from Derek’s hand, “No good. It’s no good.”

Even when the apples are done baking, he can’t stand the sight of them, can’t stomach it after seeing the rotten fruit.

“Tenderness is a sign of rot,” Hank informs him as he eats his slices, “They shouldn’t be soft. That’s how you know they’re bad.”

And he takes that sentiment with him. Even when his father dies, especially when his father dies. He doesn’t cry at the funeral, he starts lashing out at anyone and everyone because to be soft is a sign of rot, of corruption at the core, it makes you undesirable and unwanted and sickening. Keep the toughest rind and you will come out the other side strong.

So he picks fights, even with the kids he knows will beat him. He’s always been a tall kid but Rodney has always been taller, stronger, but to turn the other cheek is a soft man’s path, and Derek Morgan is not soft.

He picks fights and he loses them, comes home battered and bruised and his mother will fuss over him, press a bag of frozen peas to his eye and sing him to sleep. She doesn’t care if he’s too old for it, he’ll always be her son. And even when the pain runs more than skin-deep, crawls through his veins and writhes like a maggot, sickly and decay-drawn, she will cradle his body like he isn’t crumbling from the inside out.

When Derek is 11, it’s the first Thanksgiving since his dad died. There’s an uncomfortable silence in the house as Sarah and Fran work on dinner, and Desiree’s out in the backyard with the neighbour’s kids. His grandparents aren’t coming this year, something about the Chicago winters being cruel on their arthritis.

There’s a faint layer of snow already beginning to settle outside, and he can see the constellations of snowflakes in Desiree’s hair as she finally bids the neighbours farewell and comes tumbling inside, ready to bound up the stairs.

“You promised you’d help me with the apple pie,” Sarah chides as she scoops Desiree up in her arms. The girl laughs loud and gleeful, the first real laugh since the day began, wriggles as she tries to escape her older sister’s grip. Desiree is a big girl now, 6 years old and wide-eyed and too mischievous for her own damn good, and she’s too big now for Sarah to pick her up with ease but she tries anyway.

Derek steps out, takes Desiree from Sarah’s grasp and slings her over his shoulder, grinning at the shrieks he hears.

“Come on, Des,” He laughs, “You promised!”

So, whilst his mom cooks the turkey and the mash and the myriad of thanksgiving side dishes, the three Morgan children converge in the living room, and work on the apples. Sarah peels them and Derek slices them, and Desiree just watches with her big brown eyes and pretends she's helping, because Lord knows no one trusts her with a real knife.

When they’re done there’s a pile of peels in a bowl. Their mom takes it, a sparkle in her eye.

“You know,” she says, grinning and setting down her knife, “There’s an old wives’ tale that if you throw the peel behind your shoulder, it will spell your husband’s name.”

Desiree and Sarah dissolve into giggles. Desiree’s too young to know what true love like that really feels like, too young to be thinking about marriage and life as an adult. And Sarah’s approaching it closer and closer with each passing day, she’s had her heart broken by careless boys to want nothing but a guarantee that the next boy will be the one.

So they take the peels and throw them. Desiree’s looks sort of like an L from the right angle, and Sarah’s is an A, if you use a bit of imagination, and Derek doesn’t get anything because he refuses to try it.

“That’s for girls,” he scoffs, puffs his chest up like a proud robin all red and strong.

“You’re impossible,” Is the response he gets.

When he is 15 he finds a boy’s body in the junkyard. All battered and bruised and broken and he wishes he could press a bag of frozen peas to his head like his mother had done, tell this boy it would all be okay. But it won’t be okay, and the case is never solved because the police don’t seem to care for kids like Derek or the boy, seem for focused on pinning things on them than catching their killers.

When he sees the policeman shake the community centre owner’s hand, Derek knows his killer will not be caught.

He goes door to door and pools up enough money to buy a headstone, and he visits it whenever he can, touches the cool rock and feels himself break. And he doesn’t know this boy, know his face or his name, but they feel connected. Through space and time and tragedy, maybe in another life they were friends. Maybe in another life it was him, and he would be the one rotting in the ground.

Move forward a few years and he feels like something inside of him is broken. Like he’s been torn apart and stitched back together again but something went wrong in the process. He feels moldy, he thinks one day as he’s filling out college applications, disgusting. If he could he’d rip all his skin off and scrub himself spotless. But this runs deeper than skin.

He gets the football scholarship, and his mother cries when he reads the letter because her baby is going to Northwestern and he’s gonna be something great, bigger than himself, he’s gonna change the world. And the success feels like the pinprick in the lid for him, like he can finally breathe as there’s a chance for him to go. Leave those rotten parts of him behind.

After college and the Chicago department, he finds himself starting in the BAU. The team is pretty small - Hotch is a hard-ass and Gideon is, well, Gideon, and the liaison stays in her office too much for Derek to really know who she is, but the BAU feels right for him. Gideon’s got some kid on his radar and so does Hotch, but they’re both so frustratingly secretive that he has no clue who they could be.

He fits right in like a puzzle piece that’s been missing for so long, takes on a role as the ladies’ man and the handsome coworker who flirts with you over coffee, but also the guy who’ll sit with child victims for hours to make sure they’re alright. Hotch hasn’t booted him yet so he figures he’s doing something right.

And then he meets her.

Penelope Garcia, she introduces herself as, and she’s so unlike any girl he’s ever met before with her long, dark hair and she acts like she’s the smartest person in the room (and after a few hours interrogating her, he figures that sentiment isn’t too far off). She’s got these big curious eyes and glittery pink acrylics and he can see the person that sits behind the dark facade.

They don’t hit it off, at first, because he’s proud and she’s defensive and he has a job to complete, but then Hotch informs him of the deal that’s been made, so he better start trying to get along with her. She gets along great with JJ, they eat lunches together in Garcia’s ‘batcave’ and JJ’s finally starting to open up a bit more, actually talks to Derek at the coffee machine in the mornings and asks how he’s been. Before, she’d talk to him, or Hotch, or Gideon even, with strained words and avoiding eye contact.

The first time he calls her babygirl is the first time he sees her properly flustered, cheeks red and stammering as she types away at her keyboard and Hotch gives him the mother of all death glares because they’re trying to run an FBI investigation here, Derek. But it makes him smile, seeing her all blushed pink, and he decides he likes it.

She pretends she doesn’t struggle sometimes, and he sees it. The mass of figurines and posters in her office are just a distraction technique - he’s well versed in those - and he knows just how taxing it must be for her, seeing all those awful things. She loves and she loves like it’s the only thing she knows how to do, full-bodied and all in, and some days he wonders if she’s really capable of hatred at all.

“How can you do it? How do you deal with it all?” She asks one day over coffee, voice small and sad. She’s seen some awful things over the past few days, and he wraps her up tightly in her arms. The worst thing is - he doesn’t know what to say. For as long as he can remember, he’s just been pushing it away and ignoring it. Letting it sit inside him and simmer, rip him from the inside out and just pray he’ll be able to pick up the pieces once he finally falls apart.

Things shift, change, over the years as people come and go. There’s a new kid, one Gideon’s been raving about for months who’s finally gotten all the necessary qualifications, even if some exams had to be waived. And he gets hurt, gets hurt bad, and Derek wonder’s if that’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back because it isn’t long before Gideon leaves. There’s a new man in his place and they’re still trying to trust him, but he just isn’t Gideon, he isn’t the mentor and the peacekeeper and the caretaker that they’ve all grown to need.

Penelope is constantly shifting, growing with each passing day as a sapling grows to a tree. With each day he learns more and more what metamorphosis looks like, up close and personal - there are some things a book cannot teach you. And he can’t look away.

She has a date. She has a date and he doesn’t know why there’s this ache in his chest, like something’s been scraped out from him and left him hollow. But it’s her choice, he figures, he doesn’t own her. And then he gets the phone call.

Shot, he hears Hotch say over the phone, voice crackled and rough, and it’s like everything in him shuts down. Like someone’s ripping him apart limb by limb. That motherfucker. He will not know kindness from me. Do you need me? He asks, but Hotch just sighs.

She needs you.

And he’s driving to the hospital but he’s so pissed he can barely even focus, consumed by the rage bubbling within him, he wants to find that son of a bitch and make him feel a thousand times what Penelope felt. His skin is itching like thousands of maggots are crawling across him, it’s so overwhelming.

He feels rotten, like he’s so full of pain he can barely breathe, and his cheeks are wet and he doesn’t know why they are until he reaches up to touch them, realises he’s crying.

Men like Morgan do not cry. It’s a sign of weakness, he thinks, and you cannot afford to be weak. Not here, not now, you have never been safe enough to be weak. You bottle it up and ignore it, because to be soft is to be rotten.

He flashes his badge to the hospital receptionist and she informs him with pitying eyes that Penelope is in emergency surgery, that he can wait until she’s out and hear the verdict. So he collapses into the waiting room chairs, unable to look at the others, waits for Penelope to be okay.

Waiting lasts a century. All he wants is to take her in his arms and let her know she’s going to be okay, but he can’t. He can’t even guarantee that it will all be fine, because from what he’s heard it’s a bad wound from a good shot and it’s not looking good.

See, Penelope is an apple tree. She gives and she gives and she asks for nothing in return but a spot in the sun and a love her body has been starved of for years. And all Derek wants is to drown in blossom petals and cider, to drown himself in her warmth. All she asks for is to be loved, and that bastard didn’t even try. Derek will try, he will try and he will pray to a God he does not even believe in (Goddamnit he’s trying, he’s trying) if it means he can love her, if it means that she will be there to receive his love.

When the surgeon comes back, gives them the news, everything in him relaxes. Like the tightly-wound coil of a music box as the lever is finally released. She’s okay, she will be okay, no one must die today.

Her makeup is gone, hair a knotted mass, she’s traded out the bright clothes and heavy jewellry for a hospital gown. And she’s as breathtaking as ever, and Morgan can’t look away. He wants to reach out and hold her hand, press his forehead against hers, let her know that he’s here and everything is going to be okay, tell her how glad he is that she’s alive.

“You really love her, huh?” JJ asks with a smile, looks up at Morgan with a piercing, knowing gaze once they file out of the room, split up the group. She’s cradling a to-go coffee cup in her hands and disshevelled - she’d been the first one at the hospital, been in charge of letting everyone else know.

It’s JJ that knows Penelope the best, if not Derek. She knows the ins-and-outs of their relationship, she can see what they’re too scared to say to eachother. Love, he thinks, this is what this is.

“I do.” He nods.

“So tell her- show her, god knows she needs you right now.”

He waits until the others have left Penelope’s hospital room. The thing is - he flirts with her all the time, has himself branded as a ladies man, but it’s been so long since he’s had something real. He’s always been too afraid to show that tender side that a relationship requires.

But he’s tired of holding back. Penelope softens him, turns all his harsh edges hazy, makes his heart wrench in his chest. He has forgotten what it means to be rotten.

So he sits himself at the edge of her bed, doesn’t care if any of the others can see him through the window, all that matters is here and now.

“I almost lost you,” he says, voice soft, “I was so scared- I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if you’d gone besides tear the bastard apart.”

He scoots closer, chair handle digging into him as he leans into her. His hand cups her face, feels her warm skin against his cool palm, heartbeat thrumming under his fingertips. She’s alive, good god, and she’s here with him, and maybe everything will be okay.

His forehead presses against Penelope’s own and she seems to welcome the movement, twists a handful of his shirt in her grip like she can’t bear the thought of ever letting him go. Derek has never wanted to be loved more than right now, loved by her.

He’d bite the apple for her, Derek thinks, swallow it down seeds and all. Because he loved her, he didn’t care if the fruit was rotten or wretched, damnation was a gift if he was condemned alongside her. He’d run to the edges of the world where all that could reach them was the moon and the stars, and he’d tell Penelope how he hung them just for her.

Kissing her feels like breaking the water’s surface. Being reborn, baptised under her hands, and for what feels like the first time, he can breathe.

[vampiregirl1797]

When his Blood Singer Moves to Town

Edward Cullen x Reader

GIF Not Mine

Word Count: 3,427

Click Here For Masterlist.

Summary: Y/N has been friends with the Cullen’s since she moved to town, and has had less than platonic feelings for Edward for just as long. When Bella moves to town and Y/N finds out that she’s Edward’s blood singer, she worries she’s at risk of losing her best friend and the person she’s in love with. But after a trip to Alaska, Edward reassures her that will never happen.

As cliche as it sounded, I’d had a terrible feeling in my gut when I’d woken up this morning. I didn’t know why, but my instincts were screaming at me to pull the covers over my head and go back to sleep. But alas, I didn’t listen, figuring it was just Monday blues. So I’d gotten dressed, crammed a cereal bar down my throat and waited for my best friend to pick me up like he did every morning. When he arrived, my mood lifted a little, as it always did whenever I was around him, but the feeling still lingered.

‘What’s the matter, honey?’ Edward asked as I fastened my seatbelt after greeting Emmett and Rose who were sat in the back seats.

‘I don’t know.’ I admitted, knowing it would be pointless to lie to someone who could literally read my mind, ‘I’ve just had a really bad feeling of dread since I woke up this morning.’

‘Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s nothing.’ Edward said, giving me a comforting smile that made my heart skip a beat in my chest. 

‘He’s right. This is Forks, what’s the worst that could happen?’ Rose teased, trying to lift the somber mood that had settled over the car.

‘You’re right.’ I agreed, a small but genuine smile settling over my face. It was probably nothing.

//

I was in French first period with Jasper, Alice and Edward when the news reached us. A new girl had started today, Isabella Swan, though according to Ed, she’d been correcting everyone so far and asking them to call her Bella. I’d shrugged, not really that interested, but I’d felt a little sympathy for the girl starting half way through junior year in a small town— she’d be the talk of the school for the rest of the week at least. I didn’t envy her for that, but seeing as she was apparently Chief Swan’s daughter, I assumed she knew what she was getting into when she agreed to move here. 

After that, Edward had distracted me with questions about the book— A Tale of Two Cities—he’d suggested I read. The rest of the lesson was spent with us discussing the ins and outs, the best parts and the worst parts in French. The rest of the morning flew by, and none of us had a period with the new girl, so when it came to lunch a few of the Cullens were curious about the new girl, while I had maintained my uninterested stance. We all joined the lunch line, I grabbed myself a fruit salad and a bottle of water, still not very hungry and took my usual seat in between Emmett and Edward at our table. 

‘So, what does the new girl think of the school’s freaks?’ Emmett asked, his dimple appearing in his cheek as he grinned, ‘well freaks and Y/N.’ He winked at me and chuckled when I rolled my eyes at him.

Edward looked over to Bella at Emmett’s question, and for the first time today I look over too. I noticed the way she ducked her head and hid behind her long, brown curly hair as soon as Ed had looked over. I saw the girl next to her, Jessica Stanley, do the same thing and I saw the latter’s shoulders shaking, indicating that she was giggling. She was incredibly beautiful, but I could tell from her shy stature and her unwillingness to look back over here in case Ed was still looking at her, she wasn’t aware of it. I looked away when I felt Edward jerk so unexpectedly that the table vibrated a little.

‘I can’t read her thoughts.’ He sighed, frustration clear in his onyx eyes.

‘How bizarre.’ I mused, putting a piece of watermelon in my mouth and chewing.

‘Ooo finally, someone’s mind you can’t snoop on,’ Emmett’s voice was practically dripping with mirth.

‘I’ll bet the curiosity is killing you.’ Jasper teased, his southern drawl wrapping around his words and a rare smile appearing on his face. 

I assumed he could feel Ed’s frustration as well as any other emotions he wasn’t showing on his expression or through body language. And for the first time since that morning, the dread returned to my gut with such ferocity that it took my breath away. My eyes moved between Bella and Edward, the former shy but clearly interested, and the latter gleaming with curiosity and whatever other emotions Jasper had picked up on to implement his teasing. This is what my body had been warning me about— I was going to lose my best friend to the new girl.

//

The day had taken another abrupt turn when Edward had stormed out of Biology with a look of murder on his face. We usually met at his car after sixth period because we had a free after, so we just went home earlier. I’d hastily climbed in when he’d unlocked the Volvo and had remained silent as he’d driven faster than he normally did, muttering under his breath too low for me to hear. I’d finally spoken up when we reached the hospital, needing to know what was bothering him so much.

‘Ed, what’s going on?’ I asked, my voice tentative.

‘Bella, she’s my blood singer.’ He managed to get out between gritted teeth.

I felt my heart both sink and squeeze in sympathy for his plight. It sunk because I remembered the other half of that legend— it was said that if a humans blood sung for a vampire, that human was the true mate of said vampire. If that was the case then my earlier suspicions were right— I was going to lose Edward to Bella and the stab of pain in my chest almost took my breath away, but I pushed it aside. This wasn’t about me, this was about him.

‘Is there anything I can do?’ I reached out, my hand enveloping his right, where it rested on the steering wheel. When my hand came into contact with his, he flipped his palm up and held my hand in a gentle but firm hold.

‘I need to get away, my instincts want me to go after her, to kill her and I don’t know how long I’ll be able to resist while I’m so thirsty.’ He explained, his thumb moving back and forth over the back of the hand he was holding and I felt my lips lift into a smile when I realised he was comforting me when it was supposed to be the other way around.

‘I’ll come with you.’ It wasn’t like I had any parents to dictate my actions— they died a year ago, but I’d emancipated myself at fifteen, they were lovely people and I had loved them, but they just weren’t ready to be parents. 

Both of them worked full time jobs that took them away from home weeks at a time— the longest I’d gone without seeing them had been two months. I’d gotten tired of being raised by a nanny seeing as she practically just left me to my own devices as soon as I was old enough and did her own thing when she was supposed to be looking after me. So I’d looked into emancipation and after talking to my parents about it on one of the rare days they were home before they jetted off again, they’d both agreed without much resistance. I assumed me saying I’d still like to live with them until I could afford my own place had swayed them, as it meant that not much would change—I’d still be at home, I’d just have the ability to make my own decisions without parental permission. When they’d died in a freak car accident a few years ago, I’d inherited everything seeing as I was their only living family and I was the only one listed on the will. After it happened I decided to move to Forks, remembering the few times my parents had bought me here when I was a child. I’d needed a fresh start where no one knew me as the kid who became rich after her parents died, and this had seemed like the perfect place. I’d actually arrived the same time as the Cullens and it had been then that our friendship had been born and it’d only flourished from there.

‘You don’t have to do that.’ He insisted, but his grip didn’t waver, and his dark eyes were almost pleading for me to disagree with him.

‘Ed, I love you and if you need me, I’m going to be there for you so don’t bother arguing with me.’ I gave him a firm look and when he finally smiled I sent him a wink. 

His dark eyes softened with an emotion I couldn’t identify, and he placed a chaste kiss on the back of my hand before asking me to wait in the car while he spoke to his father. I took the time to compose myself and by the time he returned we were off to Alaska to see his extended family. We’d stopped to fill his tank after about an hour, and he’d also grabbed me some food to eat on the rest of the drive. It was the longest I’d ever been in a car, minus bathroom breaks and stopping just so I could stretch out my legs, but after two days and ten hours we made it. 

I felt like I needed my whole body cracked by a chiropractor, but we were here, and honestly it was beautiful! The Denali Coven’s home was similar to the Cullen’s in the sense that it was secluded and practically in the middle of nowhere— you wouldn’t know where to find it unless you knew what you were looking for. It was a mansion surrounded by snow and the early evening light was a mixture of pink and blue, it took my breath away. We never got sunsets like this in Forks, and I’d almost forgotten how beautiful it could be.

‘Wow, it’s beautiful here.’ I whispered, unwilling to disrupt the scenery around me by being too loud.

‘It is.’ Edward mirrored my volume, and I was so enamoured by the effortless beauty around me that I didn’t notice the bronze haired vampire was staring at me. 

After a while, the cold became too much to ignore and Edward led me inside the house, introducing me to the family I’d heard of but never met in person. They were all of course extremely beautiful and the way Tanya’s eyes lingered on the bronze haired vampire next to me made that stabbing feeling return, but I pushed it down. Edward was my friend, I had no right to be jealous of the female attention he received, I knew that but it didn’t stop the stab of pain in my heart. I chatted with Kate and Garrett while the others and Edward went hunting, they were only gone an hour but by the time they returned I was ready to drop. I’d only managed to snag four hours sleep in the past two days as a car wasn’t the comfiest place to lay your head. 

My vampire friend of course knew immediately and politely excused us both to lead me to one of the only rooms in the entire house that actually had a bed. At that point he went to leave me to have my human moments, but at the last second my body acted without his consent and grabbed his wrist. As soon as my hand closed around his wrist he paused without hesitation, his now golden eyes observing me carefully— I knew he was aware of what I was going to say, but he always waited me to voice it in case I changed my mind.

‘Will you stay with me, until I fall asleep?’ I asked, knowing that if he didn’t I probably wouldn't get any sleep, despite my current state of exhaustion. I had an issue falling asleep in new places that lacked the familiarity of my own bed, at the moment Ed was the closest to comfort I had at the moment; he made me feel safe and calm. 

‘Of course I will,’ he answered, his eyes softening to molten, plonking himself onto the twin bed while I got myself ready to sleep. 

I changed in the bathroom, brushed my teeth, washed my face and applied night cream before joining Edward in the bedroom again. He remained on top of the covers, but he’d shifted so that he wasn’t inhibiting any movement for me. I climbed underneath the thick duvet and snuggled into Ed’s side, happy that his natural coolness balanced out the warmth from the covers and the heat Kate had put on throughout the house to keep me from freezing to death. I inhaled his sweet scent and felt myself melt into him when is arm wound around my shoulders and allowed me to snuggle closer to him. I fell into unconsciousness quickly after that, but just before I completely surrendered to the darkness, I thought I felt Edward’s lips kissing my hair, but I was too far gone to fully process it or respond.

//

‘I need to talk to you.’ Edward said as we were a day into our drive back to Forks.

He felt much better now, and was determined not to let a stranger rule his life and the legacy his coven represented. He didn’t want to let Carlisle down and was prepared to simply not breathe in the single period he shared with Bella if that was what it took for his family to continue living in Forks until they were ready to move on again. Honestly, he’d told me that after the first night we’d spent there, I’d barely opened my eyes before he told me the conclusion he’d come to over his blood singer moving to Forks. It took me longer to process his words than it should have, because it was morning but mostly due to the fact that I’d woken up exactly where I’d fallen asleep, which meant he hadn’t left me once throughout the night and that revelation had done funny things to my heart and my ability to focus. Once I had, I’d been relieved, a part of me had been worried he would go as far to relocate to Alaska until Bella left Forks.

‘About what?’ I wondered, putting the bottle of water I’d taken a few gulps of back into the cup holder.

‘I’m not interested in Bella in any romantic way, and I plan to stay as far away from her as possible. While there have been some instances over the centuries of a vampires blood singer also being his true mate, that’s very rare. It wasn’t the case for Emmett, and it’s not the case for me either.’ I could barely hear his soft voice over the sound of my heart thundering in my chest, ‘you’re my true mate, Y/N. I’ve known since I first saw you, which is why we all became so close to you so fast, my family and I usually shy away from making contact with humans but I had to know you. I was certain I’d scare you off when you found out that we were vampires, and when it didn’t I was sure you’d leave when you found out about how much I love you. I tried to cheat and figure out how you’d react to the news by focusing on your thoughts, but you never really lingered on my family and I when you’re around us. So, because I’m a coward I kept my knowledge to myself, content with having you in my life even if it meant I couldn’t truly be with you how I wanted to be. But after hearing your thoughts about losing me when you learned about Bella, and how you felt unworthy of me when you met Tanya, well I just couldn’t bear to keep this to myself when I knew that you were hurting because of it.’

I was silent for a long moment after his speech, because well it was a lot to process, and a part of me couldn’t believe it even though I’d just heard it with my own two ears. But when I saw the look in Ed’s eyes, the soft look that made his orbs look like honey, I was able to recognise the emotion that had always evaded me when I’d tired to put a finger on it— it was love. 

‘I love you too, Edward.’ My voice was so soft that I could barely hear it, but of course he had no problem and a grin took over his face, lighting his expression so brilliantly that my breath caught at the sight of his effortless beauty.

After that somewhat emotional conversation, Edward had taken his hand in mine, and we spent the rest of the drive exchanging occasional anecdotes. But for the most part we remained in a comfortable silence and relaxed in the bubble of love and contentment that settled around us. 

//

Third person POV

When Bella entered the cafeteria that particularly miserable Monday morning, she’d looked over to the Cullen’s table out of habit, only to freeze when she saw that there six people sat around the table, not the usual four she’d grown accustomed to seeing. After she managed to pull herself out of her reverie, she grabbed a bottle of lemonade and hurried to the table she sat at with Mike, Jessica, Angela, Eric and others whose names she hadn’t quite been able to remember. The curly-haired brunette kept her head down for ten minutes, tentatively sipping her lemonade and avoiding conversation as she felt daggers piercing into the side of her head. It was another five minutes before she decided enough was enough; she wasn’t going to let herself feel alienated by a boy who didn’t even know her from Adam. So she turned her head, looking up at the table from underneath her lashes and the sight that greeted her made her fell relaxed and disappointed all at once. None of them were looking in her direction, so she lifted her head a little more so she was able to observe the family with more ease. Emmett and Rosalie were wrapped up in each other, the curly haired blonde vampire grinning at his love as she kissed his cheek and murmured something that made the brawny boy throw his head back and release his signature booming laughter. Jasper and Alice were sat side by side, the blonde’s hand holding Alice’s underneath the table, both content to sit in silence and observe those around them. Edward and a girl whose name she’d learned was Y/N, they were... close in a way Bella couldn’t quite describe. She didn’t know what had changed between now and last week, but there had obviously been a shift in their relationship. The bronze haired boy had his arm wrapped around Y/N’s shoulders, and she was looking up at Edward with a look of pure adoration and love in her eyes, but what was more intense was that he was returning it with equal fervour. Throughout the hour, their eyes never left one another, and they were always touching in some way, whether it was Y/N holding Edward’s free hand and playing with his fingers as they quietly spoke to one another, or whether it was the bronze haired boy brushing Y/N’s hair behind her ear and letting his hand linger to caress the side of her face— they never once shifted so they weren’t touching. It was as if they were in their own little bubble, impenetrable to even the other family members sitting around the table with them, and Bella felt her heart ache at the sight. She longed for someone to look at her the way Edward was looking at Y/N. If she were being completely honest with herself, she had found herself interested in the boy, despite his horrid attitude towards her last week, but obviously that was in vein; he was in love with Y/N, that much was obvious. 

With a sigh, Bella returned her attention to her table mates around her, making an effort to engage in their conversation and forget about the mysterious family sat to the right of her. Jessica had been right— there was no point in wasting any time there.

A/N: So I had this idea pop into my head last night, and to be honest I’m not completely sure how I feel about it?? But I’ve purged it from my mind now and it’s out there. I hope you liked it!!

[1p2p-heta-imagines]

can you do a 2p allies version of the 2p axis as ghost/poltergeists please? xxx

(Tw for death mention and suicide mention on 2p France’s!! Please don’t read if that could trigger you, and please take care fo your mental health 🖤)

2p America:

- He’s not quite a poltergeist, since he can be calmed down and he’s not always very vicious but he would technically be classed as one. He knows he’s dead but doesn’t like to admit that so he will take it out on people in the house

- He died either by alcohol poisoning or some kind of overdose during a party and he spent a lot of his first days thinking he was still alive until he realized no one could see him

- When people first move in, he tends to be really vicious. He likes seeing how terrified they are, it amuses him in a lot of ways so he keeps doing it

- He sort of feeds off of the fear that people show to him. The more scared someone is, the more vicious and active he will get

- However, should they attempt to talk to him, he actually gets a lot calmer and typically shows himself to people because he does actually feel extremely lonely most of the time, not that he’d admit it

- Likes to mess with ghost hunters, he enjoys throwing them around or throwing things at them because they’re almost always extremely terrified

- Young children can typically see him even if he doesn’t want them to, he doesn’t want to scare small children so he typically ends up just talking to them and making sure they’re ok

- He also usually ends up stopping being so violent/active if he sees that he’s scaring the child because he wants to make sure they’re ok

2p England:

- A ghost that doesn’t know he’s dead. It’s almost like he’s stuck in a certain time before he did die, reliving the day before

- His bakery caught on fire and he didn’t end up making it out in time, the building collapsed very quickly and no one found his body so he didn’t get a funeral or anything

- He has the same schedule every single day, he couldn’t change it, even if he wanted to do so

- It was since remodelled into a house, but Oliver still sees it as the bakery he built from the ground up so him walking through walls/sinking through floors is just him believing that he’s walking through the hallway that’s there or going up or down the stairs

- Sometimes, he gets short-lived moments of seeing it how it really is or seeing his final moments due to the house owners saying something but he ignores it when they’re over

- The smell of freshly baked bread and cookies always seems to linger in places he’s been, and no one can really figure out why

- It looks like he almost glitches into reality when he shows himself as he has no control over when he does

- House owners typically don’t notice him until later, and even then, they don’t really do much about it because there is nothing that can be done about it and the house is quite cheap to live in

2p Canada:

- A ghost that knows he’s dead but doesn’t really do anything about it because he doesn’t see the point

- Tree fell on him when he wasn’t paying attention and crushed him, he typically stays around that point if he isn’t back at his cabin

- No one really moves into his cabin as it’s quite far into the woods and he built it himself so few know about it. However, people typically end up stumbling upon it by accident. 

- People who are seeking refuge from people or the cold are allowed to stay, he doesn’t mind them too much. People who are there for no reason, or are there for malicious intent, are immediately scared out.

- He never shows himself to people, unless he has reason to like if they’re trespassing and need to be told to leave

- His life isn’t actually too different, he lives it as he usually would minus going to to get food and other small things like that, he’s perfectly content with staying in his cabin 

- Ghost hunters came over once but he didn’t interact with them so they just assumed it wasn’t haunted and never came back, he’s happy about this

- He has the option to pass on, considering he’s at peace with everything and has no reason to stay, but stays anyway because he likes him home

2p France:

- A ghost that knows he’s dead and thoroughly hates the fact he’s still on Earth

- (Tw suicide mention) Hung himself in the attic when he was drunk enough to finally go through with his thoughts since he had them for years previously. He never really had anyone close to him so his body wasn’t found until the landlord realized he hadn’t paid rent that month

- People moving into his house bothers him immensely but he doesn’t become violent or vicious, he just shows up when he wants and goes throughout life

- He can’t drink but is still known to steal the owner’s alcohol along with their cigarettes if they have either in the house. He’ll find them.

- If people scream at seeing him suddenly appear, he’ll scream back and them and become extremely grumpy because he doesn’t want to deal with the other dead, never mind the living

- Just wants to lay in the living room for a few days without being bothered but the homeowners always make him have to move

- Surprisingly, the homeowners typically just get used to having his presence in the home, he doesn’t really do anything bad and he disappears if they try to nudge him so it’s not a big deal to most the people

- However, ghost hunters are getting smacked if they try to bother him. This doesn’t qualify him to really be a poltergeist, just a moody ghost.

2p China:

- Mischievous ghost that sort of knows that he’s dead but has never really accepted it as a fact so he tries to trick himself into thinking he’s still alive or just blocking the entire idea of it out

- Murdered by a random one night stand he met at a bar, they didn’t find much of his body or much evidence so there wasn’t enough to indite the murderer

- He’s always showing himself to humans as he thinks it’s weird to just stare at them without them knowing about it

- Keeps freaking homeowners out and scaring them off so he has new “roommates”, as he calls them, practically every other week. Sometimes, homeowners stay for a while when they lack money to move again and they slowly realize that he’s not exactly a big issue since he doesn’t do much

- Changes the channel a lot to something he wants to watch, the homeowners get annoyed but he could care less because his favourite show is on

- Steals their stuff a lot, he always keeps one thing from every “roommate” of his to “remember them” by and it’s mostly thrown in a closet that he literally never goes into until he throws another thing in there

- Just floats around a lot, he doesn’t see the point in walking since it’s using energy when he could just float around

- Will rummage around in the kitchen at 3 in the morning and wake everyone in the house up because he’s hungry, only to be told he can’t eat and then cries about it for 20 minutes and falling asleep shortly after

2p Russia:

- Quiet ghost that doesn’t know he’s dead as he never believed in the supernatural when he was alive

- No one really knows that he’s actually dead, never mind how he died. He was very much a loner when he was alive and they always see him outside in the garden, tending to flowers and such as usual

- No one tries to move in, no ghost hunters try to come over so his life goes on as usual without much disturbance

- Writes a lot about strange things he’s noticed since he can now technically see the other dead in the historic mansion but brushes it off as his imagination rather than admitting the paranormal may be real

- His crow stares at him a lot of the time and will move away from him a lot unlike how the crow used to be which Viktor found strange but brushed that off as well

- Literally will brush off anything, to be honest. He could find his body and just believe that he’s having an out of body experience or something along those lines, he’s way too stubborn in his beliefs

- He never really went out, so he would never even experience not being able to leave the house. He makes his money at home, he pays someone to get groceries along with having a space to grow his own fruits/vegetables/other things, his sisters would visit him, etc.

- Has phased through the walls a couple of times in front of people, but he didn’t notice he did it and gets concerned for their mental health if they tell him what he did

[sagamemes]

critrole sentences starters  — 100 quotes from 100 episodes.   critrole just posted a list, so here’s about 100 lines of dialogue compiled, edited, and occasionally split into smaller pieces for roleplay purposes. topics and tone shift... wildly. and as usual, alter anything you want to make it fit your muse better.  tw:  murder, death, self-destructive intent.

❝  welcome to [place].  ❞

❝  is that a natural thing for you guys to just attack each other in moments of stress?  ❞

❝  i’ve never travelled with a bunch of people i thought would die in front of me!  ❞

❝  yeah. the world does need an asshole.  ❞

❝  tell you what. i start sweating real hard, i’ll let you know, okay?  ❞

❝  well, my social anxiety is getting the best of me. i’m taking a walk. goodbye.  ❞

❝  i think that the bust of a tiny, curly-headed 120-year-old woman needs to slam its way into the torso of that beast.  ❞

❝  what do they look like, these buttons?  ❞

❝  i don’t normally speak with the dead on a first date, but we’ll think about it.  ❞

❝  what if we kill all of them and come back and rob this place?  ❞

❝  i’m always ready to make a damn fool of myself.  ❞

❝  it’s a collection of crazy tales about this weird fella.  ❞

❝  i did my best. every town i went to and every town i left, no matter how they treated me, and a lot of them treated me with deep disrespect…  ❞

❝  i left every town better than i found it.  ❞

❝  i mean, i don’t want to impose… but i’m bleeding profusely.  ❞

❝  what happens if you have a childhood, but it’s like barely a childhood ‘cause it was supposed to be someone else’s childhood, but it was you instead?  is that a childhood?  ❞

❝  two shit throws in a row. it can’t get any fucking worse.  ❞

❝  i am your god. long may i reign. eat my fruit.  ❞

❝  code:  modern literature!  ❞

❝  welcome to the [group]!  ❞

❝  you’re very liberal with your parenting.  ❞

❝  one thing that i have realized today is that i need to work on my interpersonal skills and friendship making.  ❞

❝  try not to cut up my face, okay?  ❞

❝  i want to say thank you for the package you sent me. i know that it was really–  ❞

❝  you are blue.  ❞

❝  an example, it is.  ❞

❝  i’m trying to be nice. this is as painful for me as it is for you. just give me five seconds.  ❞

❝  i could check my smell bag, but i trust you right now.  ❞

❝  case closed.  ❞

❝  i think what his holiness is trying to convey is that he will be going on a spiritual journey, and there’s only room on that train for one dude!  ❞

❝  look to purchase, [name]!  just look!  ❞

❝  hello [title/nickname]. this is [name]. please respond.  ❞

❝  that sounds like someone whose ass i would like to kick.  ❞

❝  sometimes the things that are the most beautiful are the things that can hurt you the most.  ❞

❝  it’s actually /[title]/ [last name].  ❞

❝  this one time i saw a bug carrying a piece of bread that was like five times its size and he was carrying upstairs, like up and then he would turn, and then up, and then he would turn.  ❞

❝  fluffernutter!  ❞

❝  sleep well with your bad decisions.  ❞

❝  sometimes boys like it if you are a little bit aloof, a little bit cold to them afterwards, like maybe they did something wrong, and they don’t even know what it was.  ❞

❝  well, i would race to the...  ‘ apricot ’  and seize it so that she can’t pick that fruit. keep it for ourselves in our fruit basket, and make off and decide if we’re going to make marmalade later or not.  ❞

❝  i… wait.  ❞

❝  alright, let’s treat this situation with all the seriousness it demands  ❞

❝  i’m really really nice, but i don’t always make the best decisions…  ❞

❝  what, you don’t want a unicorn pooping on his face?  ❞

❝  yes. it’s a chair. it’s a standard chair.  ❞

❝  are you in love with me?  ...are you secretly in love with me?  ❞

❝  i win!  ❞

❝  why is just my dick purple?  ❞

❝  now, [name] is number two. you are number one. you are in charge. you just… dress to impress, okay?  ❞

❝  what happens when a moorbounder enters a feline beauty contest?  it’s a cat-tastrophe!  ❞

❝  you’re not my type.  ❞

❝  i am of the empire. but i am no friend to the empire.  ❞

❝  it’s still you though, right?  ❞

❝  you don’t get to talk anymore.  ❞

❝  it’s a regular fucking turtle.  ❞

❝  don’t let the irons be your strength.  ❞

❝  you pick and choose your fights.  ❞

❝  best not give in to a man i can crush with one hand.  ❞

❝  there’s a dick hidden somewhere in there.  ❞

❝  back up a little bit. so we met at like a circus. it was a crazy night. but after a while, yada yada–  ❞

❝  man, you made vulnerability look so easy.  ❞

❝  well, i’ve always learned that the best way to deal with your problems is to run away from them.  ❞

❝  and i know that you lost your family, but we can be your new one and we love you very much, [name], no matter what happened. okay?  ❞

❝  i guess in a way i’m an orphan maker.  ❞

❝  i’m sorry. i was trying to do the thing.  ❞

❝  i killed my family, i’’ll throw you under a bridge.  ❞

❝  i heard you.  ❞

❝  i don’t mean to raise my voice.  ❞

❝  this is precisely the sort of attitude i’ve been saying everyone should be having. this is what i’ve been waiting for. this is great.  ❞

❝  you need me more than i need you.  ❞

❝  you pooping?  ❞

❝  the rule is that evil dies.  ❞

❝  eventually, someday someone will pray for a miracle, pray for something to save them to whatever gods are nearby, and that prayer will be answered because you’ll show up.  ❞

❝  fucking seaweed wraps are the shit!  ❞

❝  oh shit, are we a cult?  ❞

❝  hey everybody, don’t mean to intrude. obviously, there’s a lot going on here, but we’re going to be sort of walking around for probably the next couple days and there’s some other people wandering through that are… they’re bad business. they’re probably going to do a lot of damage, possibly a fire, who knows?  but we’re trying to take care of that.  ❞

❝  we’d really appreciate a helping hand and we’ll try our best to stay out of everybody’s way.  ❞

❝  if there’s any birds—hey up there.  ❞

❝  if you’ve seen anything, we’d love to just get in and out with as little hassle as possible. thanks, that’d be great.  ❞

❝  you know, the concept of gravity was first discovered by a wizard known as iz-aak newton.  ❞

❝  but i would rather you put your faith in me for something more important than my curiosity.  ❞

❝  it’s better to have somebody’s word broken than to have no word at all.  ❞

❝  i pick and choose my apologies.  ❞

❝  we will trust you if you tell us who the members of the [name] are.  ❞

❝  i could be her beacon.  ❞

❝  yes, i think we have a job to finish.  ❞

❝  can i get a hug?  ❞

❝  it’s entirely off-putting how disarmingly charming you are.  ❞

❝  i genuinely do not know how to react. take that as a compliment.  ❞

❝  finish it, champion.  ❞

❝  kill me.  ❞

❝  i smell like a crayon.  ❞

❝  many fairy tales with an old crone in the woods.  ❞

❝  have you ever had a blueberry cupcake?  ❞

❝  stop—shut up, [name]!  god-fucking-alright.  ❞

❝  ignore the fucking undead, okay!  ❞

❝  nothing happens for a reason. it’s absolute fucking chaos.  ❞

❝  i’m asking you to open your heart to chaos  ❞

❝  you were not born with venom in your veins.  ❞

❝  please. please help me  ❞

❝  we’re being followed by a tiny island.  ❞

[painless-innit-colourful]

‘Where I Go, Will You Still Follow?’ - A Clingyduo Fic from the Hunger Games AU

In the most ironic twist, I missed Tommy’s lore stream on Monday writing Clingyduo comfort/hurt (in that order). I wasn’t sure whether this fandom needed any more angst right now, but whatever, take this anyway. This fic is set in a Hunger Games AU where the characters of the Dream SMP reside in Panem and must compete in the Games. Only Tommy + Tubbo appear in this fic though. Angst reigns supreme on Reaping Day, where the boys face the possibility of being picked for the deadly Hunger Games for the first time. (Also I promise you don’t have to have read HG to get this.)

tw nothing really, they’re only being reaped here.

word count: 3102

On the morning of the reaping, two boys tread carefully through a desolate orchard.

At this time of year, the trees are mostly left to their own devices. In about six months their boughs will bear fruit, and there will be plenty of people scurrying to and fro beneath them collecting their bounty to be stored and sent to the Capitol. Those very boys will join them. However, on that late Spring morning there is no one about. During this season the trees require only the occasional pruning, and everyone’s still in bed this early anyway. No reason to get up on a day where you don’t need to. Public holidays like this are rare.

Tommy and Tubbo hold hands as they move through the trees. Old habit, they suppose, a defense mechanism against getting split up, for better or worse. With the number of people in their district it can make public gatherings hazardous for lonely children, and if there’s anything worse than getting caught alone in a stampede, it’s getting left behind in a chase. If one boy falls, so does the other. If one boy is caught with his hand in the larder, the other will be nearby. The two of them are a package deal: where one goes, the other follows.

They only stop when they’re sure they’re properly alone, deep in the orchard. It would take anyone hours to find them; it would take most people hours to get out from this point. But years spent traversing these paths - both from the ground and the branches above - have given them an instinctual knowledge on which way to go. They settle in beneath a large apple tree; lush and green now that the blossoms have since blown away. They go about unwrapping several grease paper packages that were previously weighing down their pockets as Tommy hums a tune to keep them company. Tubbo shuffles uncomfortably as they lay out a small breakfast of half a loaf of bread - dark and dotted with seeds, District 11’s signature - a petite disc of cheese that Tubbo suspects Tommy sat on at some point, and an apple each. Food they either squirreled away from the pantry at the orphanage or stole outright. The thought pinches Tubbo’s cheeks.

“What’s that sour face for?” Tommy asks him, flicking his eyes up every so often as he arranges the cheese on the bread with a tiny knife stashed in his boot and breaks the half-crescent of bread roughly in half. “You’re not still worried about getting caught.”

Tubbo sighs, and it tells Tommy all he needs to know. “C’mon! We covered our tracks and literally no one saw us.” When Tubbo’s expression doesn’t change, he puts a comforting hand on his friend’s arm. “Well, definitely no one saw you. I’ll take the hit for it, if they find out.”

“No, it’s- fine.”

“Your face says otherwise, my friend.” All the same, Tommy retracts his arm and finishes haphazardly spreading the cheese upon the bread. He nudges one of the apples towards Tubbo with his foot, “Here, start.”

“Excuse me, the apple comes after the main course, how dare you break tradition.”

“My apologies, my liege.”

The easy smile returns briefly to Tubbo’s face as they laugh, then quickly melts away again. Tommy fixes him with a sympathetic look. “What?” Tubbo asks, locking eyes with him as he finishes brutalising the cheese and hands him his half. “You’re worried about the reaping.”

“And you’re not?”

“Should I be?” When Tubbo gives him a sideways glare, Tommy shrugs. “Dude, it’s a tiny chance. Two in thousands and thousands. You’re more likely to get struck by lightning than have either of our names fished out of the bowl.” And though Tommy was likely skewing his numbers a bit, he supposed it was true. It was their first year of reapings and neither of them had taken any tesserae. They were about as safe as you could be between the ages of twelve and eighteen. Still…

“Besides,” Tommy continued. “If your name gets called, I’m sure someone would volunteer for you.” He barely makes it to the end of his sentence before Tubbo’s noise of dismissal drowns him out. “Yeah right. Let’s be realistic here.” Tommy leans back against the tree as he eats. Sunlight peeks through the branches at random intervals, illuminating him in softly glowing patches. He turns his head slightly and beckons Tubbo over with a nod. They shift their bodies and the food around until they’re sitting shoulder to shoulder between two large roots, and Tubbo finds that the sunlight is almost as warm as Tommy beside him.

They remain in that position for some time, eating their way through their swindled picnic. It’s a bit much for an ordinary breakfast, but it’s somewhat of a tradition to have something special on reaping day. Makes the hours standing in the square while the Mayor drones on about how it’s right to send two children to their deaths a bit more bearable. According to those traditions, you’re supposed to celebrate with a meal after the reaping too, though neither boy is quite sure where that convention came from. Not many in District 11 could afford it in any case.

At some point Tubbo drops a hand to the floor between them, and at some later instance Tommy places his where their fingers can interlace. “You’re nervous too.” Tubbo states without looking at his companion, instead remaining as he is, staring past the leaves to the clear blue sky. “No way.” Tubbo giggles at Tommy’s indignant tone. “A big man like me is not scared of being picked in the reaping.”

“Fearless he is, Big Man Tommy.”

“Too right!” They laugh, and the terror their giggles mask bubbles just beneath the surface, a pot mere seconds from boiling over. 

“Look, Tommy,” Tubbo’s voice becomes serious, and Tommy’s laughter peters out. “It’s all well and good laughing and joking about it, but… In the event one of us is chosen…” Their eyes meet and Tubbo squeezes Tommy’s hand, to which Tommy returns the grip. “I need you to tell me you remember our promise.” In response, Tommy sighs, drops Tubbo’s hand, puts that arm around his best friend’s shoulder, pulls him close and runs his free hand through his hair, almost all simultaneously. “Yes of course I remember it.”

“And?” Tubbo replies expectantly.

“And what?”

“Say it, you dummy.” Tommy places his free hand over his heart like a salute. “I, Tommy Innit, promise my dearest friend Tubbo Underscore, that if he is chosen for the Hunger Games in this afternoon’s reaping, I will not volunteer to take his place.” He waits for Tubbo to relax, satisfied, before tacking on: “Thus letting him be led away to a faraway place to be on television then get brutally murdered, also on television. “ He can feel Tubbo’s eye roll without even looking. “You made me promise the same.”

“Yeah I did, didn’t I?” He admits quietly, leaning his head against his best friend’s, brown curls obscuring half his vision.

“It’ll be okay, right?”

“Yeah.” Tubbo’s hair smells faintly of apples, somehow. Tommy squeezes his best friend and hopes he won’t have to betray him.

Unbeknownst to him, Tubbo has the same thought.

---

The duo spend the hours before the reaping as they usually do: sleeping in each others embrace somewhere they technically shouldn’t be, pretending the clothes they have to change into back at the orphanage are any better than what they’re changing out of, and hogging the second floor bathroom for way longer than necessary. The black storm cloud that is the reaping casts a longer shadow than previous years, but they manage to ignore it for most of the morning with enough shenanigans to fill their quota for the year. The clouds threaten to burst however when the time reaches half twelve, and the parentless teenagers of the district begin to make their way towards the square where the ceremony will take place. The once-blue sky darkens as the crumbling facade of the Justice Building comes into view, as if nature were waiting for her cue, and Tommy wonders if he jinxed himself with his earlier comments about being struck by lightning.

He’s holding Tubbo’s hand again - standard crowd procedure - and he’s thankful for about the millionth time that they’re the same age. They head with the other twelve year old orphans to the corresponding pen for their age group, and find themselves sandwiched in the centre. Tubbo exchanges a few words with some of their peers, most likely to be ‘Good luck’, but Tommy’s not really concentrating. The square is already full and still there’s many more people to come, and with every person that joins the crowd there will only be more cramming the possible tributes together like sardines in a tin. There have been crushes at reapings before; they tell them in school about the reaping for the seventh games, where too many spectators packed the floor and there was a panic that killed four people, including one kid in the crowd. In an ironic twist, their name was later pulled from the ball, and their escort had to be informed live on stage in front of the entire nation that they’d died earlier that day.

Decidedly, the odds were not in their favour.

Tommy doesn’t like to admit it, but tight spaces get to him. And here, packed in by bodies with camera crews perched high on the rooftops over the crowd, scanning for the faces that will leave the district tonight, he feels like a fish in a barrel. “Hey-” Tubbo’s voice reaches him through the din of thousands of people talking at once, but he sounds a million miles away. He practically crushes Tubbo’s fingers with his own, and, in retaliation, Tubbo flicks him on the nose. He blinks at him angrily for a second, the distraction welcome despite his show of annoyance. “Breathe, Tommy.” He forces air in and out of his lungs for about thirty seconds just to make sure he still can. Tubbo traces stars on the back of his hand.

By the time the Mayor’s stepped up to the podium and began his yearly recitation of the history of Panem, Tommy thinks he’s calmed himself down somewhat. Tubbo still traces stars in little pentagram patterns on Tommy’s hand with his thumb, and though it’s starting to get a little irritating, something stops him from signalling him to knock it off. He glances briefly sideways to Tubbo, and though his expression is mostly blank, the two have gotten used to watching each other’s tics and tells, signs that are imperceptible to anyone else but them. The small twitch at the corner of his mouth, the way he scrunches his nose slightly when he blinks, even the way he presses a little too hard with his thumb, his patterns becoming less uniform and the edges of his nails leaving little scratches. He’s as scared as Tommy. So he lets him keep doing it, for both their sakes.

The Mayor finishes his history lecture, reads the list of past victors and then finally introduces the District 11 escort, a spritely-looking man in a bottle-green suit called Montaque. He’s been the district’s escort for a few years, and Tommy and Tubbo used to joke his mustache was so spiky-sharp looking you could win a Games by using it as a weapon. He seems to glide across the stage as he gives a speech about District pride or some nonsense, then utters the classic phrase, “Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour.” 

He crosses the stage to the front where two glass balls sit, holding thousands of tiny slips of paper. A lump forms in Tommy’s throat. Somewhere in one of those balls there’s two slips of paper that could serve as their one way ticket to the Capitol. He knows they’re somewhat lucky: some kids their age have many more slips thanks to tesserae, but Tommy feels a pang in his chest even as he thinks about it. Some kids have parents. Some kids have somewhere to put their tesserae so it won’t immediately get stolen. He and Tubbo may have considered it, but what use would they have for grain and oil when on most days they could barely hold onto their bedsheets? It was one less thing to worry about.

Montaque the Stupid sticks one of his disproportionately-large hands into the first glass ball, and retrieves a slip of paper, and Tommy begs inside his mind, not us not us not him. He reads the name, and the entire world suddenly stops spinning. Somewhere in the back of Tommy’s mind is a lag, like when one person in a chain of people passing produce from a field to a wagon disappears. The chain does its best to keep up, but it’s very quickly overwhelmed, leaving debris in the form of dropped vegetables and a backlog that needs to be attended to.

That’s how it feels inside Tommy’s head as the crowd parts for him, a sea of people craning their necks as they shuffle aside to form a runway for him towards the stage. This can’t be happening. His mind can’t catch up to the fact, doesn’t want to catch up to the fact that this is happening. He glances to his side and immediately regrets the action, for Tubbo stands beside him looking equal parts shell shocked and distressed. Their eyes meet, teary and desperate, and Tommy only has the strength to mouth ‘Promise’, before his feet start to carry him towards the stage alone, and his hand in Tubbo’s becomes an outstretched arm. When they finally let go Tommy can feel the ghost of his friend’s hand in his own, and knows that it will be one of the last kind touches he ever receives. He tries not to think of that as he half-marches towards the veranda. He doesn’t look back for fear it’ll set him off crying, but if he were to, he would see Tubbo standing impossibly alone in such a huge crowd, holding the hand that held Tommy’s to his chest.

He mounts the stage and looks out over the people of the district he calls home, a tiny voice in his head telling him to make the most of this last time. Last time. He searches for Tubbo in the crowd, spotting him easily by the empty pathway he just walked down being slowly absorbed back into the crowd. He can see even from here the tears shining on his cheeks, the way his whole body shakes with the effort of holding more back. There’s a couple orphanage kids looking like they’re trying to console him, and, if Tommy should weigh in, doing a pretty sh’it job. He looks away to watch Montaque snatch the second slip of paper from the glass ball, and he tenses every fibre of his being shouting internally please please please. The name is read, and this time Tommy finds himself still breathing and present as some older kid makes his own shaky way to the podium. He’s about fourteen, with a stocky build that betrays work in the crop fields. As he takes his place opposite Tommy, the young boy is reminded that the Games will be full of people like him. Stronger, older opponents. Tommy, at the monumental age of twelve, doesn’t stand a chance.

The moment lingers, and then it keeps lingering, and then Tommy turns to Montaque to find out why the da’mn moment won’t move on. He’s staring out into the crowd once more, and Tommy’s heart, already too heavy, drops straight into his boots as he follows Montaque’s gaze. The crowd parts once more, and Tubbo strides forward, a shaky confidence marking his every step. The murmurs around the square hush, as he comes to stand mere metres from the tributes. Tommy wants to catch his eye, shake his head, scream at him to stop, but Tubbo doesn’t look at him. Tommy knows exactly what he intends to do as he opens his mouth; Tommy mouths the words along with him.

“I volunteer as tribute.”

Now you’ve gone and done it.

Montaque, biggest pri’ck on the planet, waxes lyrical about courage and bravery while he arranges the exchange of the fourteen year old for Tubbo. As if he’d ever know what it is to be brave. As the Mayor takes over once more, reading the Treaty of Treason as he is bound by duty to do, Tommy tries to catch the attention of his best friend, who’s acting annoyingly aloof. He watches as Tubbo stares into the distance, looking alarmingly calm with the whole ordeal. Tommy wants to scream, and do a bit more than scream and call him all the foul names he can think of and demand he un-volunteer and why? You stupid bi’tch absolute idiot why would you volunteer when we had a promise, why did you betray the promise? Why? Why why why why why?

As the Mayor wraps up the Treaty bore-fest, he motions for the two tributes to shake hands. Tributes. Now bound unrelentingly for an arena where they will kill other people. Other children. Maybe even each other.

Tommy feels some comfort in how helpless their situation is. Odds are they’ll die long before each other are a threat. They’re going to be a team obviously, and Tommy’s going to protect Tubbo as long as he can. That’s what he promised him the day they met, and that’s what he intends to do.

They shake hands, and Tubbo finally looks at him. The tears have dried on his cheeks. They take a little longer than is necessary, conducting a silent conversation between them.

‘Sorry.’

‘I am so fu’cking mad at you.’

‘You thought I would really leave you?’

‘I hoped I was wrong.’

They stand for the anthem. They are carted into the Justice Building to wait for people to come and say goodbye. No one comes. They weren’t expecting anyone anyway. They are all they have; all they’ve ever had. And where one goes, the other follows.

Tommy waits alone in the Justice Building, trying to figure out if the first thing he’ll do when he’s alone with Tubbo is hug him or strangle him. Beyond that though, he has to protect his boy. He has to keep his promise. An uneasy feeling stirs his gut. One promise has already been broken today.

And the odds aren’t playing nice.