#and also to feel a little forlorn and sad because i always make a giant playlist each summer

[madamescarlette]

I think what will always be beautiful and rare about music to me is how much it can put a frame around a moment in time for you to keep and look over again later!

[magicman111]

A Moth to a Flame - Chapter One

Marcy watched the sun slowly set on Newtopia as she’d done many an evening before. The sharp squawks of the gulls rang through the orange sky. She looked quite the forlorn figure standing by the hotel entrance, the gentle evening breeze that ruffled her cloak underscoring her solitude.

Her eyes remained fixated in the same direction her friend had taken off, maybe in some fleeting fool’s hope she’d change her mind and come sprinting back right into her arms.

Not a chance, Marbles.

Anne was long gone by now. Hopefully, she’d caught up with the Plantars’ fwagon before they reached the city gate. Judging by how quickly she booked it, the odds were in her favor. That girl didn’t make varsity back home for nothing.

Marcy only hoped those sweet, simple frogs knew just how lucky they were to have someone like Anne in their lives.

Sighing, her head lowered, she licked her wounds slowly.

Really? That easy, huh?  

Could Anne have made it any more obvious that she wanted to get out of there faster than she did? After they’d been apart for so long, and for a family of farmer frogs whom she’d known for what? Months?

No, don’t do that, she pulled herself up. It wasn’t right for her to be mad at the Plantars. This wasn’t their fault. Sprig and Polly were a barrel of fun at the slumber party, providing you disregarded their life-threatening encounter with the jelly-fish ghosts. Hop Pop, meanwhile, reminded her so much of her own grandpa it was uncanny. They were sweet, decent folk who’d taken Anne in and kept her safe all this time. It was just...

Her lips twisted into a bitter frown. How else was she supposed to feel but a little rejected?

However, was she really allowed to complain when holding her tongue was so normalised for her by this point? Marcy was a people pleaser, she understood that much about herself. Anytime Anne and Sasha got into an argument, she was there to keep the peace and everyone happy. So if Anna-Banana wanted to spend more time with her bumpkin frog family than her literal best friend since preschool, who was she to say no?

The story with her folks wasn’t all that different either. When they pressured her to keep up her studies, up to and including PSAT prep despite it being years away, she did as she was told like a good girl to make them proud, and they were. She hoped they were.

Goodness knows what they must be thinking right now—

Nope nope nope! Don’t go there, don’t go there.

She’d already lost too much sleep at night ruminating over the unspeakable pain she’d most surely put them through, it was the last thing she needed right now. She tried to do the logical thing and focus on the positives instead. That usually worked.

Anne wouldn’t be away for too long. They’d be together again as soon as Hop Pop’s contacts returned the Box to Wartwood and then it was off to the first of the three temples to get those gems recharged. Once that side quest was done and dusted, it was a simple matter of finding Sasha and making their way home.

Looking down, she caught herself wringing her hands.

Home.

That sure was the plan.

I mean... what else are we supposed to do?

“Always sad to see someone go, isn’t it?”

Marcy quickly wiped her eyes and glanced over her shoulder to greet the towering form of King Andrias.

Almost instantly, her mood perked up a notch. He was the one person whom she trusted, more than anyone else in all of Amphibia. Ever since she first landed outside the city walls, he took her under his wings and ensured her smooth transition into this brave new world.

Andrias was without doubt one of the kindest and wisest people Marcy could have ever hoped to meet. He was a true listener, and there were very few you could say that about, her parents included. How often had he been there to lend both an understanding ear and sage advice over games of flipwart?

Games she won more often than not, she wasn’t humble enough not to brag.

It was also he who sent Marcy on the daring missions that would eventually make her the hero of Newtopian society she was today. All because he recognised the value of her talents beyond passing an exam or helping her friends with their homework. No other 13-year-old had their own solid gold statue adorning a city bridge.

She owed this king a debt she couldn’t possibly repay, but one he was far too altruistic in nature to demand.

Then, why did he look so... solemn?

“Come along, Marcy. We need to talk.”

Maybe it was his serious tone of voice or those specific choice of words, but they made the hair on the back of Marcy’s neck stand on end. In an almost pavlovian manner, she corrected her posture and she held her chin erect.

Shoving whatever remaining conflicted thoughts aside, she silently followed Andrias back to the castle like a pilot fish tailing its great white. She was so puny next to this tremendous salamander, he could crush her with a single blow of his fist if he so chose. Not that a gentle, goofy giant like Andrias would even dream of doing such a thing.

So when he was dead serious, Marcy knew better to zip it, listen, and do as instructed.

Their quiet journey took them all the way back to the castle and into the royal throne room, a place she was all too familiar with by now. To enter this hallowed hall was a privilege bestowed only to a select few. For Marcy, it was where she had her morning debriefs over bugachinos.

Instead of going straight up to the throne for their pow wow as she anticipated, Andrias guided her down a small passageway to their left.

When they made their way up to the statue of what Marcy recognised as one of his ancestors, one of the great rulers of Amphibia, they came to a stop. Andrias then gazed down at her with the most serious look she’d seen him give anyone.

“Marcy, before we go any further,” he spoke sternly, “I need to be absolutely crystal clear about something. Okay?”

“Y-Yes, Andrias?” Marcy asked, shivering a little. She did not like being pulled out of her comfort zone, not like this.

“You’re about to enter the most secret place in all of Newtopia,” he continued, now down on one knee and his hand hovering over her shoulder, as close as they could be to eye level. “What I’m going to show you... I need you to swear you won’t share with another living soul. Not to Anne, not to Lady Olivia, no one. Do you understand? I can’t emphasise this enough, Marcy.”

“Of course,” she answered earnestly, trying to sound more confident. “You know you can always trust me, Andrias.”

A ghost of that warm, fatherly smile returned to his big blue countenance.

“Trust is a hard thing to come by, kid, and you’ve gone above and beyond to earn mine. It’s just that I’m not exaggerating here when I say this is a big one.”

Marcy simply placed one hand over his huge index, the other over her heart.

She smiled back at him sweetly, genuinely, “I promise.”

“Very well.”

Nodding in approval, Adrias rose. He reached out, pushing a luminous coral torch upwards.

It didn’t take an encyclopedic knowledge of ‘Creatures & Caverns’ for Marcy to predict that the statue was going to shift to the left next, revealing the spiralling staircase leading to Frog knows where. She probably should’ve been more surprised, but come on, it wasn’t exactly the first secret passage she’d come across in this castle lately. 

“Follow me,” was all Andrias said, before he pulled off the same coral torch, then proceeded down the stairs without another word. Marcy followed obediently, unable to ignore the unnerving chill that was now travelling up her spine.

Was it... always this cold around here?

Something about all this just felt so unsettling compared to last time. She couldn’t really explain why; she knew she was safe with Andrias and that he wouldn’t do anything to intentionally put her in harm’s way. It was a gut feeling and that sort of thing bugged a rational person like her to no end.

She tried to take her mind off it by hazarding her best guess as to precisely what he was going to show her. Either she did that or started getting all worked up dwelling on Anne again, which she’d rather not at the moment.

Another secret library, perhaps? Probably not, though she wouldn’t be at all disappointed if it was. Maybe there were forbidden texts about the dark arts hidden away down there. Magic users were incredibly rare in Amphibia these days—Marcy had already searched far and wide—so might this be her chance?

Oh, how the very idea of being able to cast actual magic excited her. Being Chief Ranger of the Knight Guard was a great honor and nothing to sneeze at, but to be a powerful sorceress, one who could communicate with spirits, raise the dead, shuffle the orifices on her enemy’s faces—

Okay, rein those snails in, Mar-Mar.

Her musings were interrupted by a strange noise emanating from below. At first she figured it was just her imagination, but the further they continued their descent, the clearer it became.

It sounded an awful lot like beeping. Yes, that was it. A progressively growing cacophony of bleeps, bloops and chirps, the kind she’d expect to hear from a high-tech supercomputer. Something absolutely alien in a world like Amphibia, she and her friends excluded.

Before Marcy could ask Andrias if he heard it too, she was distracted by the emergence of an orange glow chasing away the darkness below. It was a warm, almost heavenly light that conjured the mental image of a crackling fireplace on Christmas morning, protecting you from the snowstorm outside.

The chill in her spine had by now spread to the crown of her head and the tips of her toes. Her throat tightened up. Beads of cold sweat dripped down her forehead.

What the... Marcy could not say a word, only think.

There was something down there. Something greater than any library, however inconceivable that sounded. Whether it was good or bad was irrelevant to her at that moment.

It called her.

The duo finally reached the foot of the staircase and entered the sacred sanctum.

Marcy’s jaw dropped.

“Woah.”

There were no shelves of books. No ancient Amphibian artifacts. There weren’t even any walls that she could make out from where she stood. Just an apparently endless sea of darkness encompassing a large round platform from which both the enticing glow and the lowkey din of beeps originated.

Marcy resumed taking Andrias’ lead as they stepped out onto the platform, the clink-clank of their boots confirming her assumption it was made of metal. The whole thing appeared more at home on an alien spaceship than in the dungeons of a castle.

Upon arriving at its centre, Andrias knelt down on both knees and, much to Marcy’s curiosity, removed his crown and set it down on the floor. She took the hint by following suit.

Any lingering fears melted away the more she basked herself in the radiance. It was as if the beams were steadily pouring into her body, clearing up her headspace, reducing any tension in her body. She recalled a favored memory from when she was five-years-old, when she and Anne spent a whole summer afternoon by the beach. How the tides would come in and out without fail, washing away the ruins of their sandcastles, the seaweed, one of Anne’s sandles and the teeny tiny baby seahorse they rescued.

Like a nice blank canvas.

Was this a private place of worship? Not according to her expansive studies of Amphibian anthropology. Or maybe it was a place for Andrias to meditate away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the castle. Seemed a skosh excessive if that was the case.

“Truly captivating, I know.”

Andrais’ baritone brought Marcy back down to earth. She straightened up and tried to refocus herself. They were down here for an important reason, at least she believed they were.

“One can spend hours down here,” Andrias boomed ominously. “Adrift in their own thoughts and... dreams.” The light cast his face in a rather unnerving shadow as he stared ahead into the void. “But I’m sure you know I haven’t brought you here to show off my retreat from the world.” He took a long, deep breath, like he was mentally steeling himself for what he said next, “As much as it pains me to say it, I’m afraid I haven’t been entirely truthful with you, Marcy.”

He produced from his sleeve what appeared at first glance to be two giant pieces of parchment and unfolded them neatly on the metal surface. A closer inspection told Marcy they were in fact pages torn from an exceptionally large book. Judging not only by the size, but the font and format as well, she easily pieced together its origin.

“Are these...?”

“From the book we “found” in the wing?” Andrias chuckled mirthlessly. “Yes. Still kinda surprised you didn’t pick up there were pages missing, but that's not important right now. Please, read.”

The platform provided ideal reading light. Marcy’s ability to read at a 12th Grade level meant she cruised through the text and finished within minutes.

She read it once, then twice. A third and fourth time just to make sure her eyes weren’t deceiving her.

Her bottom began to tremble.

No... Nononono, this... this can’t be right. I-It’s impossible! How in the world can it...?!

No amount of curative rays could unfreeze the blood in her veins. The metaphorical pistons in her brain were firing on full cylinders in a vain attempt to digest this earth-shattering information. For a split second, she thought she was going to pass out.

Desperate, she turned to the stone-faced Andrias to plead for some kind of answer, but she found no words with which to speak. All the personal growth and development that made her Newtopia’s champion had been stripped of her and she was reduced to nothing more than a helpless lost toddler.

A comforting set of giant digits placed themselves under her chin, the same way a father would do for his daughter.

“All this time, I’ve been testing you,” Andrias told her, his voice full of pride. “The games of flipwart, the missions, the “secret library”, even the barbari-ant colony I had lured to the city. I was watching you, studying your every action. With each challenge I issued, you excelled my expectations. You’re an exceptionally talented human being, Marcy, truly worthy of the name ‘Wu’.”

Even if these words were meant to serve as comfort or encouragement, they had only the opposite effect for Marcy. Tears were leaking out the corners of her eyes.

She mustered only a pitiful whimper, “I-I don’t understand.”

“Don’t worry, kiddo,” he promised, “you will soon enough. He’s so excited to meet you.”

“... He?”

Lifting his mighty hand in the air, he thrusted it into the nothingness facing them. Marcy instinctively followed its direction.

“Marcy Wu,” Andrias’ thundering voice resonated throughout the sanctuary, “allow me to introduce you... to my master.”

No sooner had he finished, the whole world started to tremble at Marcy’s knees, throwing her off her balance. A rumbling, mechanical ROAR struck her ears so loud she had to cover them to protect the drums from rupture. Yet despite this sensory assault, she somehow forced her eyes to stay wide open. She needed to face whatever was coming.

Marcy gazed into the abyss.

And the abyss gazed back with all thirteen of its eyes.

Terror. Pure mounting terror overwhelmed every cell of her being. Her pupils shrunk to the size of pinpricks. If her mouth stretched any wider, her jaw risked snapping clean off its hinges.

Everything around her faded into black. Andrias, the platform and its glow, the beeping, all vanished into the ether. All now that existed were herself and those colossal demonic eyes plucked from the deepest recesses of her nightmares, their leer burrowing into her very soul.

Marcy wanted to scream until she coughed up her lungs. Moreso, she just wanted to wake up. This was all a dream, it had to be. A lucid dream that had gone on for far too long. She and her friends weren’t in another dimension inhabited by talking frogs, such a notion was a scientific absurdity. She sure as heck wasn’t a ranger in some anthropomorphic newt army.

Any moment now, her wizard kitty alarm would ring and she’d wake up in her soft, cozy bed. Dad would have left for work by now, planting a goodbye kiss on her sleeping forehead as he did every morning since she was little. Mom would be already making her her favorite congee rice and youtiao for breakfast. Then she would begin the process of packing up her room for the big move to Oregon like a good girl.

Yes, she would even happily do that. Anything to bring an end to this ordeal!

Shhhh

Her train of thought screeched to a sudden halt.

Marcy

It’s gonna be okay

And just like that, as if those were the five magic words required, everything was fine again. No more panic, no more existential terror. Her heart rate lowered to a steady, non-life threatening level.

The tide had risen up and washed Marcy’s mind clean.

Like a nice blank canvas.

What quickly followed was an epiphany of sorts.

There was nothing for her to fear. Once she accepted that fact, the warm sensation from before returned greater than ever, engulfing her in what could only be described as a spiritual hug. She could feel the pair of hands, tender as her own mother’s, caressing her face and flicking away her tears. They even ruffled her raven hair in the same playful manner.

Come to me, daughter of Wu

Let me get a good look at you

Marcy obeyed. Getting down on all fours, she crawled across the nonexistent ground—the laws of physics evidently had no place here—until her face and the eyes’ chief pupil were within inches of each other.

Fresh tears, now ones of ecstasy, trickled down her cheeks and evaporated in the pulsating heat.

“You’re beautiful.”

I know

We’ve gotta lot to talk about, Marcy

And I have a feeling...

You and I are gonna become the best of friends

[energyanon]

Henry Reading Part II

As always, I wrote this in real time, and edited punctuation after. I’ve italicised all of the “placements” names so hopefully it makes more sense for you guys to know what placement i’m talking about. Also keep in mind everytime i move to a next placement its because the energy has said all it needs to with the last person. And also note everytime that anything in the field moves, I have to check in with everything else cause movement means change in the dynamic, and so it’s always good to check in to see what the placements think about that. Guys... it’s a long one but... Im cautiously hopeful at the moment omg. 

Placing HC, body, image/status and fans.

HC, body and I/S are standing beside each other in a line. Body was close to HC, then I/S wanted to be on top of him, for energetic reasons I put image next to him instead, wedged between him and body.

Immediately HC just wanted to sit down and relax but felt claustrophobic with everything so close to him. A little anxious, very hot, and off kilter. He wanted to move away from the other two, so I moved him. He’s now in the furthest part of the field, but he is SMOKING hot like I’m BOILING.

Image/status also is feeling a bit off kilter, it keeps swaying one way to the next but heavily leaning towards Body now. Like as if it’s entire gravity is based off of “body”s orbit.

When Image/Status looks at Henry it doesn’t even seem to recognise him. Kind of like a “what are you doing here” and it’s heavily leaning towards body, it has no regard for HC as a human whatsoever.

Body is also a little off kilter but feels like it can’t move or feel anything, and it’s only swaying to each side slightly. There’s a lot of pressure in the throat/lungs. But otherwise body is numb. It doesn’t feel like a living organism it feels like a statue.

Body will not look anywhere besides in front of it and down.

You know what it feels like, it feels like Body is standing in those lines in the military where a captain is walking down and assessing every person there and you have to stand still and silent and wait for this person to assess you and then leave. It’s a very obedient feeling like “I have to stay here and do what I’m told”

It doesn’t feel like it has any freedom whatsoever.

So I’m gonna add Body IMAGE, instead of just Body and see how they interact.

Oh I just remembered I have placed fans but literally none of them are paying any attention to it. So we move on.

Body image is directly in front of Henry. If it could be apart of him it would, but it’s standing in front of him, noses touching.

It feels like a mother (yikes)

It’s telling him he’s not good enough

Hands on hips, it’s very stern.

100% a mother energy. Not a MOTHERLY energy it feels like a stocky woman shorter, has authority over him and he respects it.

I know that sounds like DG, but this is just the “energy” I’m feeling so it could be actual mother or another woman in his life that has this kind of energy. It could also be that females are a heavy influence on his life.

Body Image is Disappointed “you can do better”. it’s looking him straight in the eyes. It’s not happy with him at all, it doesn’t seem to have any compassion for him, it almost feels disgusted, like it shouldn’t have to be wasting it’s time but it is. It also feels like a bit of a bully like if he wants to move it moves with him going “where are you going huh. You stay right here you can’t walk away from me”

Henry

Surprisingly, he isn’t crippled by body image being there it’s more like it’s a nuisance.

Body Image to him feels very military once again, “this is my superior, I have to listen I have to do what it wants, but I’m tired of listening to it. But I’m just gonna stand here and shut up and be as invisible as possible until it does.” Feels very “sir yes sir” to him.

He feels very stuck here but he WANTS to move (that’s great news) he just feels like he can’t while body image is in the way and he’s not gonna try until it’s gone.

When he looks at BODY he’s looking at it forlorn. Like he wants to be United with body, but body is listening to whatever it’s being commanded by and so is he, so neither of them can move.

I got him to look at fans cause I wasn’t feeling anything for them. When he looks at fans he gets instant anxiety but also doesn’t believe he has the time to deal with that right now and he just wants to look over at Body. Anxiety leaves as soon as he stops looking at fans.

There’s a sadness when he looks at Body, almost like he misses a lover. He wants it back. He wants to hug it and tell it that it’s ok, he wants to comfort it. He feels like Body is in a worse place than he is. He thinks Body is struggling. When he looks at status/image he actually has 0 concern he’s just worried about Body.

I moved to fans. Fans feels nothing for the field. Makes sense cause it seems like no one is paying attention to it. I’m taking that to mean that fans doesn’t need to be here. It’s not the issue being dealt with. I’m taking fans out.

Taking note that HC doesn’t seem as unbelievably depressed as he was in the last one but we also have a different set up. But still interesting.

Body:

Body still an absolute statue will not look anywhere but ahead

Status/Image The only movement status wants is to be CLOSER to Body so that they are almost one. I’ve got status/image behind Body, but hugging it from behind. Not in a loving way but it feels connected it feels like that’s where it’s meant to be

Body:

Body immediately feels hot with S/I there behind it. It’s falling back a little but eyes still ahead. Still a statue. Feels… almost comfort with S/I there but it’s not comfort it’s like.. it feels… more stable.. like body doesn’t WANT it there but it’s not going to move and if S/I moved it would almost feel like a loss. It wouldn’t know what to do with itself.

Henry

Now that S/I has moved behind body and is hugging it, HC is panicked, still not moving, still blocked by body image but he’s looking at S/I now, S/I has his full attention.

His first thought was “no please don’t move there” and now he’s just staring at S/I knowing he can do nothing

Ok INTERESTING. He felt the need to draw his attention back to Body and get its attention by YELLING (almost like there’s a chasm between them but they’re actually really close in this constellation) he’s yelling “know your worth” and just that over and over again.

(Which frankly, I’m impressed by).

But Body isn’t listening to him so he just keeps yelling almost desperately? Body image is trying to get his attention but he won’t give it to it.

Body image:

Is annoyed, wants to grab his face and get HC’s eyes back on it. “I own you.”

It’s doing everything it can to get HC to pay attention when his eyes aren’t on it it wants to get abusive.

Like real abusive. Beating him to the ground.

I’ve followed the movement, and HC is on the ground.

It’s crouched over HC now and it’s just belittling him, it’s hammering into him. “Disgusting Pig”. “No one will ever love you what worth do you have.” It’s just laying it on him it’s not kind in anyway, it’s so horrible.

Henry:

Ok this is interesting cause I go back to Henry and I assumed he would be absolutely hurt by this but he’s not.

The feeling is that of an abused kid whose just had enough but can’t leave their parents just yet. like it hurts him emotionally but it’s more of a wince, he’s used to it, and he’s numb to the rest of it. He’s saying to Body image “let me go. Please.” “Please leave me alone you’ve made your point”

There again is almost that feeling of crying but it’s just the base of the emotion it’s not enough to get watery eyes.

Oh. That would make sense.

The good news is that HC doesn’t feel absolutely crippled by this.. he just feels like he’s stuck in an abusive relationship and he knows that he’s stronger than it, and whenever it says he’s disgusting he knows that he’s not. He keeps reiterating that to himself and saying that to body image, but it’s conflicting because he’s also too tired to get up and leave and fully believe it. It’s like eventually the abuse from Body Image wears him down and he knows even if he gets up and fights back it’s just gonna be there the next day wearing him down again.

Ah.

That energy has passed now, he’s sitting back up. He’s still blocked by Body image which is now sitting in front of him, still so close its touching. But Henry is breathing heavy as if he was just in a fight. And this feeling is similar to the last reading, the absolute hopelessness not knowing what to do, deep sighs feeling lost. Disassociating. Just.. over it.

Body:

Ok now body is looking at Henry and it feels so sad over what just transpired and it wants to comfort him but it doesn’t want to piss off body image.

It’s now looking forlorn at HC. And Body finally wants to move away from status/image.

I moved it to where it wanted to be - the edge of the field. And it’s turned around facing status/image and it’s defiant. “You don’t own me”

Body isn’t angry, it’s just defiant and protective. If S/I takes one more step body will bark at it like a ferocious dog. That’s the feeling.

Body is staring S/I down.

Status/Image

S/I didn’t feel anything about Body doing that it just went “ok. I’ll move myself somewhere else then” with a bitchy little smirk.

And placed itself in front of Body image and in between it and HC.

And now status is sitting too. All three of them. Sitting.

Status/image feels like it’s good friends with Body Image.

Henry: With that move, Henry now feels like he’s behind a wall.

A giant Ass brick wall and he can’t see anything beyond it.

Another deep sigh. He’s sick of it.

He’s so tired.

Body Image: Body image feels like S/I is almost like a daughter to it. It’s much younger but it likes status/image there.. in a really mean way, like it keeps looking at HC like 😏 see? How are you going to escape us. And wants to pat S/I’s head.

Body:

Body can’t seem to notice anything around it it’s almost like everything has vanished now because the other three are behind a brick wall and that wall is absolutely invisible to body. Body is just looking around like “well fuck.”

It feels like it has nothing to do now.

(Controversial……. I’m going to place HC’s younger self..)

Younger Self HC

HC’s younger self has placed himself in front of body but further away, he’s shaking and anxious looking at Body. Body feels like it is looming and intimidating but little HC still wants to be friends but not sure how. He’s holding himself like a shy little boy. Head is kind of ducked. And he can’t quite look at Body in the eye. Body needs to make the first move

Body: Body very hesitantly made the first move and knelt in front of little HC. It was kind to him but in a pitying kind of way. It said “hello little one”

And just knelt there. Little HC gave body a hug, and body couldn’t reciprocate its the feeling of when an adult has something devastating and sad to tell the child but hasn’t told him just yet.

Little Henry

Hesitantly hugging Body. Very awkward it’s taking a while to get used to being this close to body.

But when he does get used to it, body feels very warm, very motherly. It feels like a motherly hug.

Still even then the crying feeling is BASE level, not getting watery eyes or anything.

(I need to find where the basis of where this lack of crying is or it’s going to drive me insane.)

I’m leaving it there, as HC has accepted where he is atm, even if it’s behind a wall, he has the same feelings as he did in the last reading, I can’t get those to go away without a constellation, but I felt like there was movement with young HC and body bonding and having a little cuddle.

That’s some healing movement right there 

OOO actually let me check how HC feels about young him and body making a nice little movement like that.

Henry:

OH!!!!!?

Ok the brick wall feels like glass now, he can see through it. But he’s got a little smile on his face seeing little him and body having a hug.

He feels like he may be stuck here but at least that happened?

He feels a lot more hopeful and alive than he did the last time I checked on him in this reading.

Awake too.

He doesn’t feel like the two in front of him are even blocking him anymore. Like they are but he feels like he could sneak away..

but he just doesn’t want to just yet he’s too tired he can’t be bothered, but he’s feeling MUCH better now.

He feels hopeful

And that makes him happy.  And that’s finally where I will end it.

Guys OMG. POSITIVE MOVEMENT!!!! WE GOT IT!!  Note: Ok, I didn’t move tiny henry. tiny henry moved HIMSELF. That’s HC’s little inner self making MOVEMENT. I didn’t facilitate that, that was where the energy wanted to go all on it’s own. 

Which is PHENOMENAL AND WONDERFUL NEWS?!?!? Also I have left little HC and Body hugging for the moment cause I feel like that needs to fully integrate.  Small movements but HUGE. 

[lady-himbo]

In Your Shadow

sort of Javier Peña x reader, platonic!Steve Murphy x reader (she/her pronouns; no Y/N used)

Javi keeps getting the credit for work he didn’t do, and she’s pissed. Chaos ensues.

Word count: 2500+

Warnings: angst and frustration, lots of cursing, potentially horrid Spanish (I’m learning, I promise), smoking

A/N: This is based on the song Shadow by Unlike Pluto. You can find pieces of the lyrics in the dialogue. You can also find the translations of everything said in Spanish at the end! Feel free to correct me on anything; like I said, I’m learning Spanish, and I appreciate any advice. <3

“... and thank you again to Agente Peña for providing this invaluable intel.” As the meeting adjourned and several individuals voiced their praise, she charged out of the briefing room and into the office, seething, death-gripping her files to her chest. Hot on her heels, Steve attempted to pacify her.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean to steal your thunder, honey. He’s just-”

“What? He’s just what, Steve? A senior agent? Running the show? A man? Tell me, what exactly justifies him getting credit for the shit I’ve worked months on?!” The files were starting to crumple in her grasp.

“Well, I don-”

“This isn’t even the first time he’s done it! He’s gotten recognition for my informants, my intel, my translations, my briefings, my goddamn livelihood!” Her voice was starting to raise in pitch and volume as tears gathered in her eyes. Steve held his hands up, trying to silently reason with her. “I can’t win, Steven! I work my ass off day and night for this fuckin’ job, only to have the rug pulled out from under me because I’m ‘not working as hard’ as holier-than-thou Javier goddamn Peña and his massive ego! I have to live under it and, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, it casts giant shadows!”

Unfortunately, the source of her rage had picked an inopportune time to waltz in. With only a second to register Steve’s panicked look, Javi might as well have wandered into the middle of a firing squad. The execution probably wouldn’t have been half as painful.

“You motherfucker!” she yelled, slamming the now torn and wrinkled papers onto her desk with a clatter. “You lying, power-hungry, manipulative bastard! You fuck every other woman you get the chance to, but you’ve decided to fuck my life instead! I’ve worked for fucking months; hundreds of hours and sleepless nights on this information, and you’ve taken all the credit! Again!”

Javi, oblivious to the full impact of this outburst, opted for the worst possible response. “Come on, sweetheart, we’re working as a team. Plus, you asked me to hand it in to Noonan. If you wanted to take credit for it so badly, you should’ve just talked to her yourself!” Steve visibly cringed and gestured for him to cut it out. Too late.

She stalked forward and, though Javi tried to back up, she had him backed into a corner. “You pompous ass! ¡Más tonto y no naces!” She’d broken out her Spanish. Oh boy. “I can’t even talk to Noonan because she always tells me to run my ideas by your incompetant ass! You cast a shadow over everything I try to do; it’s not like I can get anything worthwhile done when your massive ego’s towering over my ambitions!” She jabbed a finger into his chest, punctuating her words. “Nothing I’ve ever done here has ever mattered to the agency, because I live in your shadow and you’ve taken all of it from me! When will you move out of my way and stop treating me like a fucking doormat?!”

Javi was starting to get defensive, which was never a good sign, especially when Spanish started to get sprinkled in. “¡Oh, lo siento mucho!” he shot back sarcastically. “I wasn’t aware that all the work you get authorized by me to do was proprietary!”

“Are you fuckin’ serious?” she spat. “All you had to do was say the report was from me! It’s not proprietary, Peña, it’s my goddamn right to present the information that I spent my own money, overtime, health, and physical fucking safety to acquire! I’m sorry that I have a genuine interest in making sure this case gets handled right instead of spending my every waking moment getting my dick wet in my informants!”

A small group was starting to gather near the office, waiting to hear if Peña finally got his ass handed to him. This didn’t seem to bother either agent as they glared each other down. With Peña’s pride now on the line, no holds were barred, and he was ready to bust out personal attacks.

“Any competent agent would’ve just handed their shit in themselves, but no, you’ve gotta rely on someone else to do it for you.” He was livid; his pride had been damaged while he was riding the high of gloat and achievement, like getting laid and immediately being punched in the balls. She wasn’t letting this one go, and it was obvious he wasn’t either. “God! You’re like a cloud every time you walk in here, bitching about how little sleep you’re getting or how your work is piling up; a fuckin’ rain on my parade!” He stepped forward, crowding her, his posture more and more assertive with every word. “¡Madura de una vez! You’re an adult, a government agent, taking down a drug cartel run by Pablo fuckin’ Escobar! No one’s getting sleep, and it certainly doesn’t help when you’re whining about it! Maybe if you stopped, you’d have time to turn in your own reports and get the credit you don’t deserve!”

Escobar himself could’ve walked through the office and no one would’ve noticed. Javi’s mouth slammed shut the moment the words left, but they seemed to echo in the eerily silent office. Her shoulders sagged, and she stumbled back a few steps, trying to steady herself.

“Fuck, I-” Javi choked on his words. Her eyes were red, her cheeks stained, but her face was frighteningly level.

“Yeah, tienes razón.” Her voice was hollow, tired. “It’s always stormy lately. I guess I’m just under too much pressure; it’s driving me insane. There’s only one way to relieve it.” She slipped off her gun holster and unclipped her badge, pressing them into his chest. “I quit.” Without a second glance, she stormed out of the office.

Two weeks later, her desk was cleared out, her files and informants were on a list to be redistributed to the rest of the unit, and the office was uncomfortably heavy. Javi was smoking way more than usual, everyone avoided him like the plague, Steve was bored, the case was at a standstill, and the quiet was palpable. She was no longer a colorful presence flitting around the tables, leaving a rainbow of Post-it Notes in her wake, charting cell signals, calling out for advice, chatting on the phone in Spanglish, humming quietly or bobbing her head to the radio, popping up to refill her coffee cup and offering to refill everyone else’s every couple hours, then rushing off to the bathroom when she’d had too much. She was a constant presence the unit soon realized they’d taken advantage of.

The phone on Steve’s desk rang mid-morning, and he stifled a yawn as he picked it up. “Murphy,” he grunted.

“Hey, Stevie,” came a familiar voice. “¿Qué pasa?”

He brightened. “Hey, hon.” He felt some of the tension leave him, but it was still there. “We’re fuckin’ stuck. Nothing’s happening, everyone’s lifeless, and Javi’s still moping. Eso es lo que pasa.” He could hear her breathy laugh; she was always proud when he practiced his conversational Spanish with her. She’d told him she felt it was an honor he was comfortable enough to try it out around her. “What’s up with you?”

“Ahí vamos; he estado mejor. I’m sorry you have to deal with-” she stopped and huffed, then her words became muffled. “Tengo una cita con la embajadora, huevón. ¡Estoy al teléfono!” She yelped. “¡Tócame otra vez y te rompo la nariz!” There was a brief commotion, then a thump, and suddenly, her voice became clear again. “Sorry, I’m waiting on Noonan. I’m supposed to meet with her today to finalize my paperwork.”

Steve sighed. “You’re really going through with this, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess I am.” Another voice called her name in the background, then spoke quietly for a moment. “What?! ¿Qué quiere decir ‘no está aquí’?” The voice spoke again, then there was a pause. “Okay… Si, todo bien… Está bien. Listo.” Then, back to Steve: “Noonan didn’t show. Some emergency meeting. Just great; I guess I’m rescheduling.”

“Maybe it’s fate!” Steve teased, only half joking. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Javi trudge across the office to the coffee pot, give it a long, forlorn look, then trudge back towards his desk. His eyes were heavy, his shirt rumpled, even his mustache looked sad. As he plopped down amongst towers of papers, Steve cleared his throat and made a show of nestling the handset under his chin. “Well, whatever the case, that gives me time to convince you to stay with us. Your desk looks stupid empty.” Though he was deliberately looking away, he could see Javi’s head and shoulders snap up like he’d heard a gunshot. On the other end of the line, she laughed.

“Don’t try to sweet talk me, Murphy. I’d welcome the company, though.”

“Of course!” he replied, making sure his smile was as cheesy as possible. “I’ll meet you outside in a little bit?” She agreed.

Steve busied himself with pretending to look busy for the next half hour, then announced he was going to talk to Carrillo. As soon as he turned the corner and was sure he was out of sight, he watched Javi scramble out of his seat and out the door.

Outside the building, she was sitting on a bench, her back turned. Lazy wisps of cigarette smoke danced in the wind in front of her figure, and Javi suddenly felt very insecure. He called her name, uncomfortable with the way his voice wavered. She jumped, then, after a beat, slowly turned towards him. “Come mierda, Javier.” He didn’t let her words deter him, approaching the side of the bench. She glared up at him. “No me joda. I’ll finish up in a second and leave.” He wrung his hands, feeling small under her stare.

“I’m going to sit with you,” he declared.

“Please go,” she said, softer this time. “I just wanna feel the wind one last time before I leave. Just wanna look at this shitty masterpiece of a city; really take it in.”

He ignored her plea and sat, far enough away that he didn’t feel like he was ganging up on her. They just sat, and she took long, deep drags of her cigarette. After she eventually ground the butt into the pavement, he took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry.” He left the declaration hanging in the wind for a moment, before plunging on. “I’m sorry for what I said, and what I’ve been doing to you. I’ve been a selfish asshole, and you were right to call me out on that. I’m not going to convince you to stay, because you don’t deserve to be dealing with my bullshit all the time. You’re talented and selfless and I never appreciated everything you sacrificed for us until it was gone. I just- fuck, I feel like such a piece of shit.”

“You are.” He blinked owlishly. “You’re a self-centered, impulsive manwhore with a weird mixture of self-hatred and a superiority complex. You’ve been a horrible coworker and I almost feel ashamed that I tried so hard to be your friend.” He ducked his head, trying to hide his mortification. “Almost.”

He peered back up at her, cocking his head in confusion. “That said, you’re a great agent, kind and sympathetic when you wanna be, passionate about the work we do, and, when you keep a level head, you’re fun to work with. I don’t know if I can forgive you right now for all the shit you did, but your apology goes a long way. I appreciate that.”

She took a deep breath, then stilled, staring out into the movement and noise of Medellín. He watched her for a few minutes, though it felt like hours. He watched the clenching and unclenching of her jaw, the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the flutter of her eyelashes; all the details he’d been too busy to notice. “Penny for your thoughts?”

She looked over, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t know. I’m just thinkin’ about life. What I want to do.”

“I know it doesn’t amount to much, but I’d like you to stay.”

“I can’t- I mean, I can, it’s just that- fuck, I don’t even know,” she mumbled, furrowing her brows to try to stop a tear from slipping down her cheek. “It’s just that, by all official records, I’m pretty much worthless here, y’know? All my abilities go unnoticed and it’s like I’m not even there. I know you don’t mean to stand above me, but you are, and the shadow I live under is killing me. It’s taken my job, my self worth, my… being. I can’t live like that anymore, constantly working at the precipice of death, of destruction, of failure, and the one thing I can do to help isn’t even appreciated as my own. It’s just… cold.”

Javi nodded. “After you left, I went up to Noonan and explained what’d happened; that I didn’t deserve any of the credit I’d been given.”

“Well, that’s not true! The things that you did you deserve credit for. You’re incredibly talented, Javi, just not with my intel.”

“But… you do deserve the credit I get. You deserve so much more than you‘ve ever gotten. What I said was so selfish.”

She grabbed his hand. “Javi, selfishness aside, I know you’re in a dark place. We all are. After all, we’re government agents ‘taking down a drug cartel run by Pablo fuckin’ Escobar’ and we don’t get any sleep.” She smiled at her usage of the words he’d berated her with weeks earlier. “I should’ve taken more initiative to turn in my own work; it was silly of me to put that on you. I know you’ve got your own mess going on. Plus, I said a lot of awful things right back. Most of them I meant, some of them I didn’t, but I could’ve handled it all a lot better. I’m sorry we didn’t work this out earlier.”

Javi squeezed her hand, feeling a little warm tingle in his stomach. “Me too.” He sighed, raking his other hand through his hair. “I- er, we really do need your help. You’re priceless.” She exhaled sharply, tilting her head back and forth as if weighing her options.

“Fine. I’ll talk to Noonan.” Javi’s face lit up. “But on two conditions.” He nodded. “One: I get recognition for my past and future work, and two: you promise to work with me and call on me if we have any issues. We can’t have these communication errors any longer if we’re gonna catch these bastards.” She paused, then smiled lightly. “Also, you owe me a lot of coffee.”

Just as Javi agreed, Steve came out of the building. He stopped a few paces from them, looking back and forth from Javi’s pink cheeks and goofy grin, her teary eyes, and their interlaced hands. “I’m sorry, what did I miss?”

She laughed as they pulled their hands apart and she wiped the tears away. “I’m keeping my job.”

“That’s amazing! …Peña, what did you dose her with?” Javi let out the fakest laugh he could, but smiled along with it. She sighed softly, the breeze dancing across her skin.

“All I want is to cast my own shadow.”

Translations:

¡Más tonto y no naces! - If you were any dumber, you wouldn’t have been born!)

¡Oh, lo siento mucho! -> Oh, I’m so sorry!

¡Madura de una vez! -> Grow up!

tienes razón -> you’re right

¿Qué pasa? -> What’s up?

Eso es lo que pasa. -> That’s what’s up.

Ahí vamos; he estado mejor. -> Fine, I guess; I’ve been better.

Tengo una cita con la embajadora, huevón. ¡Estoy al teléfono! -> I have an appointment with the ambassador, asshole. I’m on the phone!

¡Tócame otra vez y te rompo la nariz! -> Touch me again and I’ll break your nose!

¿Qué quiere decir ‘no está aquí’? -> What do you mean ‘she’s not here’?

Si, todo bien… Está bien. Listo. -> Yeah, all good… all right. Okay.

Come mierda -> Eat shit

No me joda. -> Don’t fuck with me.

[precuredaily]

Precure Day 192

Episode: Yes! Precure 5 43 - “Komachi’s Resolve and Nuts’s Future” Date watched: 9 June 2020 Original air date: 9 December 2007 Screenshots: https://imgur.com/a/iT40izm Transformation Gallery: https://imgur.com/a/6k6SzS0 Project info and master list of posts: http://tinyurl.com/PCDabout

Poor Komachi. She was once so eager to write her love story, inspired by her feelings for Nuts and his unconditional support for her. Now she’s struggling with it, because she’s started to realize what her real-life conclusion is going to look like...

The Plot

Komachi is in the library, trying to write, but the words won’t come, and she looks very forlorn. Karen sympathetically suggests she talk to Nuts for advice, but she hastily rejects that idea, insisting she needs to finish the story herself. When they get to Natts House, Urara asks her about her book, and Komachi gets flustered and embarrassed talking about it. Urara asks if it’s based on anything, which Komachi ardently denies as she steals a glance at Nuts, and then she hastily turns around and goes home. Karen noticed Komachi’s wandering eyes and turns to look at Nuts as well, starting to put the pieces together.

Over in Nightmare, Kawarino bemoans to Hadenya about how he has to present the black paper to someone, and she says whoever it is should be glad because it enhances their abilities and they’ll surely be able to bring down Precure. Kawarino is so relieved to hear this, and he reveals it’s for her. Her mood changes instantly, as she swats away the black paper and storms out of Nightmare, insisting that she doesn’t need it. However, when we next see her, sitting on a park bench, she admits she didn’t really have a plan when she left and she needs a way to follow up that dramatic exit. Just then she sees a pigeon pecking at a Pinky, right in front of her, and she gets an idea...

At school, Komachi opens up to Karen about her specific problem. She explains how she used to be overflowing with ideas but now they’re gone. She wants to make “his” dream come true, but she knows that when she does, he’ll have to go far away. She tries to explain she’s talking about the characters in her story, but it’s clear she really means Nuts. She admits that if their farewell never arrived, she’d be fine with that, and Karen insightfully says that she may not know about the last scene, but it does sound like how it plays out will be up to Komachi. In the story, of course.

Later, at Natts House, Nozomi and Urara are berating Nuts for not going out of his way to help Komachi. He insists that giving unasked for advice is being nosy, while they say he needs to understand her feelings. Karen arrives and gently assures everyone that Komachi can find her own solution to her problem.

Nonetheless, Nuts shows up to find Komachi sitting on a park bench (what is it with park benches lately?) and he talks to her, promising to do anything he can to help. They have a really heartfelt conversation where he explains he’s nice to her because he’s powerless in other ways, so he does what he can to help her because she’s fighting so hard to help him. Komachi breaks down in tears, upset that he’s so nice while she was only able to think about herself, and she admits that she was afraid to talk to him about her concerns, because talking about it would make it real to her, and her potential future would crumble away with the knowledge that he has to leave.

Nuts placates her, saying she’ll find an ending that works for her, and she should stop worrying. (it sounds insensitive but in context it’s very sweet)

At that moment, Hadenya shows up and scoffs that she’d be happy to crush whatever future they have together and shows off the Pinky she’s captured. Nozomi, Rin, Urara, Karen, Coco, and Milk all show up and transform while Hadenya is in the middle of gloating. Annoyed, she turns the Pinky into a Kowaina, which takes the form of a giant concrete block that immediately falls on top of everyone. They avoid it, and Dream, Rouge, and Lemonade fight the monster while Mint protects all the fairies from Hadenya, who is trying to snatch the Dream Collet from Nuts. Hadenya continues to degrade Komachi’s dreams of happiness, and Aqua joins Mint in fighting the villain. Hadenya and the Kowaina manage to overpower Mint and break her barrier, leaving her exhausted. Hadenya scoffs some more at the idea that they’re protecting Coco and Nuts’s “worthless” dream, but Dream, Rouge, and Aqua show up to defend their friend and explain how reviving Palmier Kingdom is their shared dream. Komachi looks at her teammates fighting so hard for her sake and finds new strength within her, and manages to restrain Hadenya long enough for Dream, Rouge, and Lemonade to destroy the Kowaina mask and save the Pinky. Lemonade and Aqua notice Mint’s shield has appeared over her head as she blocks and fights Hadenya, suggesting she’s channeling her barrier powers into her body to overpower the villain. Hadenya tires to use strong air currents to outclass the Precures, but Mint holds her ground. Aqua uses Aqua Tornado to halt Hadenya’s charge, and Mint summons the Mint Leaf directly in front of her, unleashing a point-blank Mint Shield on Hadenya that blows her away as it expands.

Hadenya flees and when the smoke clears, a huge crater is left in the ground. Dream collects the Pinky.

A later date, at school, Karen visits Komachi again and realizes she isn’t writing anything. Komachi admits she’s decided to put her story aside for now, but she’ll be sure to find a conclusion that suits her, and the two share a half-hearted smile.

The Analysis

This is a good episode, but it’s a bittersweet one. Komachi seems to be the frequent subject of bittersweet plots, because they really want to emphasize to the audience that hey, writing is difficult, and so is navigating your emotions. When these struggles meet, well, the results aren’t pretty. Obviously, Komachi’s novel has always overlapped with her relationship with Nuts, and as she’s gotten to the departure and farewell scenes, she’s starting to realize what Coco realized a few episodes ago: that the closer they are to finding all the pinkies, the closer they are to saying goodbye, and Komachi is afraid and unsure how to put that into writing. She is afraid to write a conclusion, because that means acknowledging that her own relationship will come to an end, which she isn’t ready for. It’s a moving exploration of writer’s block, which is a particularly resonant phenomenon to me as I’ve been struggling to write this particular review. Anyway, her choice to simply set the book aside for now is somewhat astonishing. It’s a mature and somewhat sad direction for a generally optimistic kids’ show to take, but I respect it that much more for not taking the easy road and saying “Komachi magically found a solution to her ongoing troubles with little difficulty.” Sometimes there aren’t easy answers to complex problems, and since the matter of her book was causing her far too much emotional stress, Komachi decided it was best for her mental health to shelve it. Telling suggestible audiences that this is sometimes an acceptable solution is important.

I do love the positive message, though. The uplifting and encouragement she receives from Nuts especially is really inspiring. His explanation for why he helps Komachi so much is emotionally resonant, as he says he’s weak in other areas so he helps where he can. He is still plagued by guilt for his role in the destruction of Palmier Kingdom, which informs his actions now, and he wants to do everything he can to help Komachi since she’s helping to restore his home. His support for her, and his reinforcement that all of her friends support her allows her to overcome her self-doubt in the battle against Hadenya. It’s also a clever reversal of her role in the team. Normally she wants to protect everyone, but in this episode, she’s the one who needs to be protected while she’s emotionally vulnerable, and the others are happy to help lift her spirits. Karen, her oldest friend, sees Komachi hurting and makes it a point to help her during the fight, double teaming Hadenya when Komachi can’t take her alone, and offering her the last push of encouragement she needs to power through.

Speaking of the fight, it’s a good battle. The Kowaina that just bodyslams indiscriminately is hilarious and what I expected out of the Kowaina from ep 40. Dream, Rouge, and Lemonade have to get creative when fighting it and it results in cool moments like Dream being trapped as it falls and the others having to save her before they hit the ground.

Obviously the main event is Mint’s fight against Hadenya, and it’s intense, with the general mostly having the upper hand despite being assaulted by both Mint and Aqua. When Hadenya kicks the barrier hard enough to break it (with some help from the falling Kowaina), it’s a visual metaphor for Komachi’s spirit breaking, but the follow up where Aqua encourages her turns her mood around results in a fantastic scene where Mint effortlessly blocks Hadenya’s attacks and then uses Mint Shield on her at point blank range, launching her into the atmosphere and creating a huge crater in the ground. THAT is badass.

I love this kind of creative use of their abilities and I wish we’d see it a bit more often. Between the emotional resonance and the incredible physical fighting, this might be one of my favorite battles from this season.

I want to briefly mention that Karen clearly understands the root of Komachi’s concerns, and knows she’s not just talking about her book. I think Komachi knows that she knows, but continues to describe it in terms of her novel for plausible deniability. This might be Karen’s first time realizing Komachi has feelings for Nuts but she definitely knows, and all her advice to Komachi is predicated on helping her friend with her real relationship woes. She’s a good friend to have around. I also love the use of lighting during most of their conversations, the twilight scenes are always beautiful and of course it lets them play with light and shadow in creative ways. When they’re talking in the library, Komachi is mostly seen in shadow, representing her sadness and uncertainty, while Karen is in the light, as the beacon of hope that can help her. After Karen offers her advice to Komachi, she is half-lit, as she’s beginning to come out of her sadness.

And lastly some bookkeeping. Hadenya was given a black mask today, but rejected it, and then failed when she went out to try to collect the Dream Collet. This is typical of her bravado and pride, but suffice to say this isn’t going to end well for her in the next episode.

Next time on Precure Daily, Milk tries to figure out just what a good caretaker is supposed to be like, and the answer may surprise you. Look forward to it!

Pink Precure Catchphrase Count: 0 Kettei!

[mythologymonsterlover]

Male! Vampire boyfriend

This story was pretty fun to make, and I liked how this Monster boyfriend turned out to be! 

Warning: cussing, sexual content

Female reader X Male monster

My feet hit the ground as fast as my legs can move. My breath is coming out ragged, and my stomach feels like it’s about to come out my mouth. I keep running not looking back behind me, since that's my past not present moment. My vision become blurry and i’m sure to lose consciousness at any moment. This has to be the end of me. Yet, before I could lose it totally the coach blows the whistle. “Alright, times up runners!” I collapse on the ground, not having the strength to keep my body up. My friends rush over to help me stand and I’m more than grateful to feel their arms around me. “You did awesome!” Lucy says excitedly while wrapping her big arms around my neck, and Tom has to yank her off so I can breathe again. “Lucy chill! She just finished running!” I let out a breathless laugh as both of them start to quarrel over who is right or wrong. My friends have been here for me since my mother died, and knowing that they both look out for me each day is a blessing. Ever since I decided to do track for our final year of high school, they both supported my goals. It’s been so much fun to be able to move my restless body to be more active. I’ve been running since I was a little girl, and I felt the need to join the team ever since our first year. My teammate's are a little dysfunctional, but we all look after one another so it makes everything alright. This was actually my first day of training, and Tom and Lucy came to cheer me on. I managed to finally get enough air into my lungs to finally speak to them. “Hey, since I’m done for today, let’s get something to eat.” Both stop arguing and look at me, and with big smiles on their faces, they nod their heads. I laugh happily while I tell them to wait so I can get my stuff. When I get to my locker door I see one of my teammates also grabbing his stuff. His name is Eddie, and even though he's quiet, he is the strongest in the team. I look at him once and he nods his head but turns around back to his stuff. As I grab everything I need, I feel a hand on my shoulder. Turning around, I see Eddie staring me down with a blank expression. “Oh, uh, what’s up Ed?” I say casually, and he leans down to my ear making me flinch at his closeness. He usually is very reserved, not even speaking to anyone, so this makes me feel weird. “Be careful.” He says, and I back away while looking at him confused. We stare at each other silently, without saying a word. Then just as suddenly, he heads out the door leaving me more stunned. What the hell was that about? I just shake my head, not really sure what to think. I don’t want to stand here all day, so I head out to see my friends. They both grin at me, and I smile back not really sure if I should share with them what just happened. Over a couple of minutes of walking away from the building, I decide I should just drop it since I don’t want to make a big deal out of nothing. Ed was probably just trying to say have a good day, in his own weird way... We decided to eat at Subway, and I ordered my usual. We talk about how the school year is gonna be hard work and the gossip we heard recently. Tom then went on to talk about Ed, and that’s when me and Lucy stopped eating. Sighing, I already know where this is going to lead. “I’m telling you, that Eddie is a creep!..The other kids say his homeless because he ran away from home..” Tom eats while saying this, but looks at me for a reaction. Lucy intervenes though with a shrug of her shoulders, and continues with what she was saying to distract him. “Er...Anyways! I learned today that one of the sophomores pranked a teacher by putting balloons all over the classroom!” I laugh at knowing full well who did it, but Tom shake his head and looks away from me. I know what Tom is trying to do, but to be honest it’s not helpful. Him and Eddie never really got along, and because of that it always put tension between the two of them. He especially got angrier when I talk to Eddie and joined the same team with him. Me and Lucy got away from the subject by talking about funny stuff, which Tom totally loves to hear. After we eat and calm down the tension in the air, we all headed back to our homes to call it a day. Lucy was the first one to be dropped off from the bus, and then Tom. I waved him goodbye, and he waved back but with a look of a strange longing in his eyes. It made me feel uncomfortable, but he eventually went off as the doors closed. I looked at him through the window, and as the bus drives off he disappeared around the corner.

…

When I made it home, I was utterly exhausted from such a long day. I went into the shower first, and after that straight to bed. My room was filled with pictures of mom, friends, and dad. When I looked at them, it brought a sense of relief that was hard to feel in my day to day life. I never knew why, but when I use to see dad and mom together I especially felt wholesome. letting my thoughts dissolve as my body wraps around the blankets, I slowly make myself more sleepy. I was losing consciousness fast, until I heard a knock at my door. I get up with irritation from being disturbed, but force myself to walk from my room to the door. I look through the keyhole, and I stop myself from breathing for a moment. Their on the other side is...Tom? I shake my head in confusion, not understanding why the hell his here so late at night. “Umm..Tom? Is that you?” I say while backing away from the door. I hear a deep laugh, and he responds with a, “Duh, yeah?” I let out a sigh not knowing what to do, since dad isn’t home at the moment to keep me company. I know Tom though, he wouldn’t do anything to me. Sure he's been acting strange, but he would never hurt me. Knowing that I’m safe, I unlock the door to let him in. “Geez, took you long enough!” He says playfully, and walks over to sit on my couch. I just laugh sheepishly, still not knowing what his doing here. I go into the kitchen to make us some drinks, thinking he's probably thirsty. I was bringing the glasses out when a sudden loud bang came from the door. I almost drop the cups as I rush over to see what just happened. I hear Tom run from the couch to stand beside me, and he looks really irritated. “Tom, did you invite Lucy over as well?” I ask, my voice shaking with fear as the door keeps being pounded on. He looks at me for a moment, and I notice his eyes look weird. They almost look...Red? I was gonna ask whats wrong with his eyes, but before I could, the door flies off its hinges. We both ducked in time as the door is thrown through my hallway, and lands on the other side of the wall. I then hear a small growl from next to me, and when I look over, I see it’s coming from Tom. Shocked, I notice he doesn’t look like himself anymore, but a monster. He developed fur, sharp teeth, and red beady eyes that glow brightly. I scream while backing away, and as I look over to the door frame I see another guy looking down at us. Not just any guy though, but Eddie. He looks like a giant bat but stronger, furrier, bigger, and his eyes simmer with so much hate that I freeze in complete utter fear. Wh-What the hell is going on?! The person I think is Tom, lunges toward him on all fours with incredible speed. Eddie snarls as Tom jumps at him, causing them both to fall to the ground rolling. I sit their terrified as they both bite, scratch, roll around, and punch each other in the face. Not being able to handle what’s happening anymore, I close my eyes and huddle my body into a tight ball. I don’t know how long I stayed like that, an hour or so, until I heard the fight stop from a single crack. Everything went silent, and I start to sob hysterically as I knew that one of them must have broken the other's neck. I was ready to get up and run, even though my legs felt like jello. Yet, before I could a hand was on my back. it caused me to cry all over again, and I forced myself to not shake. I felt two hands go underneath me and i’m lifted up into strong arms. I keep my eyes closed, as I don’t want to look at the creature carrying me. It walks down my hallway into my room, as I feel it lay me down on my bed. Then it laid down next to me. I felt the creature wrap it's strong arms around my waist. We both stay silent for such a long time, I heard my heart pounding. Being finally brave enough, I open my eyes to see a simmering black pair staring at me. It was Eddie. I pulled away to look at him fully, and could see the blood an the scars on his body. Our eyes locked and I could see his sadness. It made me feel sympathy yet strong fear of him at the same time. “What- why, did you kill Tom?” I whisper, feeling like I was his next victim. He lets go of me as he moves to sit on the corner of the bed. He looks human again, and I notice his hair to his shoulders look beautiful, and his dark skin shines brightly against the moonlight. Finally I hear him sigh, and he turned his body to face me. “Tom was going to kill you.” He simply states. I feel my heart stop beating for a moment, and new tears fall down my cheek. Was he telling me the truth, or was he just trying to lie to me? Why would Tom of all people try and kill me? “Why would he try and kill me Eddie!?” I raise my voice, feeling anger at his words. Yet Eddie just shakes his head, and with a forlorn look he shuts his eyes while getting up to leave. “Wait, where are you going!?” I yell after him, but know it’s useless since I can't even chase him while i’m shaking in fear. When he finally goes down to the front door, he turns to glance at me one last time. Without saying a word, he disappears right at the spot. I was left there alone, with only my thoughts to keep me company.

…

Weeks go by after the incident with Tom and Eddie. Tom’s family just disappears and I assume it’s because they don’t want to be discovered, or never existed. As for Eddie he hasn’t shown up to school for weeks now. Me and Lucy morn for our dead friend, and I refuse to tell her the truth. I refuse to tell anyone actually the real truth of how Tom died. My father ask how the door broke down, and I had to lie and say I didn’t know. It feels crazy for me to lie, but it’s crazier to tell the truth since no one will believe me. It consumes at me every night, day, and I’ve been losing weight from not wanting to eat anymore. However, this night strangely, I find flowers next to my window. I asked my dad if he left them there, and he said no with a very confused look on his face. Soon, it’s not just flowers that are left there but jewelry, stuffed toys, and sometimes candy bars each night. I wanna laugh at what I get, but the feeling of dread for my dead friend drains me more. One day in particular, I was walking home alone when I saw a figure under a streetlight. Not even a half a block away from the person, I knew it was Eddie. My anger rises up throughout my being, and I have to control myself to not yell at him. “Where have you been Eddie?” I say being right in his face, and he looks at me with a blank stare. He straightens up his posture though and puts his hands in his pocket. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around, and I’m sorry about your friend, Tom..” he looks down while saying all this to my face, and I just let out a small laugh not believing this shit. “Sorry is not gonna fix it, you need to explain everything to me, now!” He keeps his eyes cast down, but he nods his head and turns to walk down the street. I hesitate for a moment knowing I should have called the police, but I follow him down a couple of blocks until we're right in front of an old broken house. It's gray, and it’s windows are dirty with years of neglect. We walked through the door - well, what’s left of it anyways - and go down to a single room. There in the room is a bed, a couch, and a desk with a lamp on it. “Go ahead and sit wherever you like; are you hungry?” Eddie says, and I shake my head while walking over to sit in the chair at the desk. He shrugs, and lays down on the messy bed. “I guess you want to know the full story, right?” I nod in response, and that’s when he begins to speak. Apparently, The Tom I knew died a year ago. The last time I saw what looked like Tom was actually a creature called a changeling. These type of changelings go after people with strong hearts, and I was apparently one of them. Eddie knew from the beginning that the old Tom was gone, and he knew this because of his sensitive smelling, that only vampires have. Others like him hunt down bad spirits and evil creatures that try to eat humans for their life source. By doing so he earn an income, and free governmental protection. I barely hear what he says after that as my head feels like it will burst. He eventually notices my face, and can tell I’m not buying any of this shit. “ I’m not lying to you, in fact, I can show you.” Eddie stands up from the bed, and he does something that makes my skin crawl. He grabs a knife from under his bed, and he cuts down his arm. He leaves a severe laceration and a trail of blood pours down. “Stop that, what are you doing?!” Startled, I get up and grab the knife out of his hand, throwing it out the window. He just looks at me annoyed, and rubs the back of his neck. “Well, that was rude of you.” I was about to slap him across his damn face for saying that, but before I could he held out his arm to me. I could see that the arm he hurt was all healed up in a matter of seconds. It’s was like he never even cut himself at all. I slump back in the desk chair while rubbing my temple between my eyes. You gotta be fucking kidding me.

…

After that day I visit Eddie more, and we talk about other creatures that are out to kill people. He tells me usually to mind my own business, and it’s not safe to get me involved. Yet my friend did died a year ago from a paranormal creature, so I tell him it is my damn business. Since he can’t get rid of me, we usually go out patrolling during the night to see if there’s any monsters out. I actually start thinking he's kinda cute - even though he can be a jackass - his kinda sweet. During the day he shows up to school again, and I usually sit with him during lunchtime. Lucy doesn’t really understand why I’m doing this, but she started to join us during lunch as well. Tonight I was thinking of bringing him some dinner since the last time I checked his fridge, he had only old take out. I decided to come unexpectedly, because I wanted to surprise him. I walk to his front door and unlock it with a key he gave me. As I stepped inside I see that all his clothes are on the floor. Rolling my eyes, I picked them up and carry them to his bedroom. I call out his name a couple times, but Eddie doesn’t respond. I was starting to feel a little worried, until I heard water splashing upstairs. Not really surprised, I walk up to where the bathroom was and saw that the door was halfway open… I see him fully naked, and he doesn't look human any longer but his furry monster bat form. He has his head hanging back, and I look down his body to where his hands are resting at. I have to clasp my hands over my mouth to stop myself from gasping. He growls under his breath as he keeps moving his big hands up and down his dick. I feel bashful from seeing him like this, and as quietly as possible I go back downstairs. Walking to his room now feels very strange, as my body makes me painfully aware of how turn on I am. I wish I hadn’t seen that, but I try my best to calm down for it to not show. The minutes goes by until I hear footsteps come down the stairs. Eddie opens the door, and when I make eye contact with him I feel myself melt all over again. Their, with only a towel around his waist, I see his defined muscles on his stomach and arms. He has an average build, but with how the water makes his skin shine I have to look away. Timidity, I smile up at him to cover my shot out nerves. “Hey Ed! What took you so long?” Eddie nods his head at my response and looks at the door behind him. He then looks back at me, and he gives me a look that makes me gulp. “You saw me, didn’t you?” Eddy says in a low, but surprised voice as he walks to where I’m sitting. I flinch as he sits right up next to me. His so close even that water droplets fall on my pants. I could also smell the shampoo from his body, which is a mix between his man smell and strawberry smell. I feel my hands tightened around the sheets as my core heats up. I can’t even look him in the eyes anymore. “Well, it wasn’t on purpose…” I managed to lie forcefully, and I get up to walk away. However, I don't get that far as he wraps his arm around my waist and drags me down to the bed again. He leans over me, and our faces are only inches apart. “Do you know why I was masturbating?”  His gruffly voice closes into my ear, and I can’t even speak but shake my head. Eddie smirks, and I feel one of his strong hands go on my leg to my skirt. “I was thinking of you..” he says finally before placing his lips on mine. I feel myself melt under his touch when his hand goes all the way into my underwear, fingering my most sensitive spot. My breath comes out in shudders as I grind on his hand.  “Ed..” I mummer out, gripping his hair as he trails down his kisses to my stomach. Soon instead of hair, I feel fur underneath my hand. I look at Eddie to see he transformed into his bat self again, which is frightening but attractive at the same time to me. His eyes are all black now, and his fur shines a deep night sky color that I find breathtaking. His ears are pink and pointy, as well as his little snout. I hear him growl as I buck my hips, and he responds by grabbing my sides down with a strong grip. He looks me in the eyes as he moves up slowly to my face, and something heavy dropped on my stomach. His shaft is as big as half my arm, and seeing it vainly lines makes me want to touch it. I reach out, and hold his cock in both my hands and pump it up at a slow pace. “Ahhh..shit..” Eddie mummer now with a gravelly voice, and he bucks his hips to reply to my motions. Feeling my core ache, I can’t hold back any longer and move down his shaft to my pussy. Feeling my wetness make his shaft slippery, I lay my hands on his chest and ease on his dick carefully, taking my time to stretch myself out. Once I’m situated, he pushes deep inside with a thrust that causes me to scream, and before I can recover he thrust into me again. My insides feel like mush as our skin slaps together in the room making it echo off the wall. Eddie puts me on my stomach and rest his claws up against the wall. He then brings down his face to mine to say possessive words into my ears. “Your mine now, do you understand? You can’t ever leave me..” He thrust inside deeper, and my body shakes uncontrollably as my vision turns white. “E-Ed…!” I cry out, feeling my climax consume me as I cum all over his dick. Soon Ed moves at a rugged pace and with a low growl, I feel his cum all inside me. He bites my neck then, leaving a vivid red mark to mark me as his own. I lay down on the bed for awhile, not being able to move my aching legs. He gently pulls me down to lay beside his hairy body. While curling up, he shrinks back to his human self. “Are you okay?” He nuzzles my neck, and I pat his head with a lazy smile. “I’m more than okay.” giggling, I wrap my arms around his neck keeping our bodies close. “Will you stay with me, my lover?” He said hesitantly, and not feeling the energy to talk I just kissed his mouth, letting him know I’m more than happy to be his forever.

[candyshua]

Intertwined | Chapter Three - Bad Timing

Kim Mingyu was your best friend, your knight in shining armor, your crush, your everything. But sadly, you were not his.

After getting his girlfriend pregnant in his fourth year of college, the two of them moved away to America after graduation. And then, you were all alone.

Meet Yoon Jeonghan, your current best friend. An aspiring video game designer, he has been your rock for 5 years. He helped you through so much drama. You would be surprised to learn that he was madly in love with you. What happens when Mingyu comes back to Korea?

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 2,733

Warnings: Foul Language, drunkenness, suggestive language.

Everything was falling into place, for once in your life. Work was fine, and your side-hobby of singing was also fine. Your view had gotten about 500 views within two weeks, and even some comments! People were complimenting you, and it felt good. You had decided to make a new video.

Something you hadn’t noticed, however, was that Mingyu had not passed your mind once these past two weeks. You had postponed your trip with Jeonghan, mainly because you got busy with work. You would go this weekend instead.

It was Tuesday, and you weren’t waiting for the week to end anymore. Albeit you were excited, you allowed yourself to relish in your newfound contentment. No, you weren’t happy, not quite yet, but you were getting there.

Things felt great. Clarity had returned to your life, and now everything wasn’t just one hazy mess. After work, you had decided to go to a local cafe in the heart of Seoul, since you were in desperate need for a coffee. You had a project you wanted to finish that night, so a coffee would really hit the spot.

After ordering and sitting down, you heard the bell attached to the door ring, signalling a new customer walking in. You wouldn’t have even looked up, things would’ve been completely and utterly fine, but you heard his voice.

Mingyu’s voice.

His voice was extremely distinguishable. You would recognize it anywhere.

So, you looked up. Low and behold, there stood the 6’2 giant that you were once in love with. He looked...great.

His hair was black, which you weren’t used to. He always had it dyed some cool color.

He wore a blue t-shirt, which showed off his toned arms. He looked much more muscular than the last time you saw him. He even had a bit of a stubble, which shocked you beyond belief.

Then, it hit you. It was like being slapped in the face by reality.

You were seeing Mingyu, your childhood best friend, your first love, again. For the first time in over five years.

The air from your lungs had dissipated. You couldn’t breathe, so you elicited a huge gasp, which caused him to look your way.

The moment you had locked eyes, you knew you were done for. All of those feelings that you had suppressed throughout the years of not seeing him came back in one huge tidal wave. The love, hatred, resentment, adoration, everything. The feelings consumed you, and you didn’t know if you’d ever be able to feel anything ever again.

Then, he smiled. It was a sad smile, but he still wore a grin. Okay, you would feel again.

He walked over to you, with apprehensive and wide eyes. “Y/N.” He had stated, his voice as soft and silky as honey, and you wanted to collapse into yourself.

You internally debated on what to say, whether it would be a simple greeting or an insult.

“Long time no see.” You whispered, feeling a lump in your throat starting to form, because oh my god, it was Mingyu.

He was here, right in front of you. In the flesh. You wanted to cry, no, scratch that, sob.

Mingyu sat down at the table, right across from you. After the two of you basked in an unsettling silence for a bit, you broke.

“What the fuck!” Was all you could murmur, bringing yourself to bury your face in your hands.

“I’m sorry.” Mingyu said, with nothing but sheer emotion protruding from his tone. What the hell were you supposed to say? It was fine? It wasn’t fucking fine!

“Just explain this to me.” You demanded, your tone thickening. Authority soon consumed you, as you fixed your posture and gave Mingyu a confused scowl.

Mingyu looked a little lost. He had expected you to cry and laugh, he had expected you to be in a glorious state. Instead, you looked really fucking pissed.

“I’m back, Y/N. Isn’t that enough?” Mingyu asked with a wince in his tone.

“Stop spewing bullshit and tell me why you’re back!” You shouted, calling attention from the workers and the two other customers that were there. You didn’t care though, you just wanted to know what the fuck was going on.

“Jieun and I divorced, okay? She decided to move back to Korea with Junghoon, and I came back because I didn’t want to be away from him.”

“Junghoon?” You mumbled.

“My son.”

Oh. Suddenly, pain poured into your heart. It was like an overflowing dam, and it turned into a waterfall. You were being attacked by grief and confusion, wanting nothing else but to wake up and redo this entire day.

If you were able to redo the entire day, you wouldn’t have come to this stupid cafe. It would’ve been fine.

“Were you even going to text me? Call me? Let me know that you were back?” You asked, feeling

your icy exterior crumble. The authority and power you had once possessed was crumbling before your very eyes.

“Of course! I still have your number.” Mingyu reassured, but you only felt the overwhelming forlorn feelings in your heart deepen.

“Then why didn’t you call me?” You mumbled, earning a lost puppy look from Mingyu. You got him there.

Mingyu had a very cut and dry reason, but he just couldn’t bring himself to tell you.

Not yet, at least.

“I just...couldn’t.” Mingyu murmured, and you scoffed while crossing your arms.

“I gotta go.” You bitterly spewed, huffing a breath of frustrated air. Mingyu debated letting you go. Yet, out of intuition, he grabbed your wrist and looked up at you with pleading eyes.

“Please.” He said. That was all he needed to say, with that one sad word he made you crumble.

“Let’s go to my place. I don’t want to cause an even bigger scene.”

-

You had expected the walk back to be awkward, but it wasn'’t. You grew up together, you knew one another. You would travel to Seoul, coming from Anyang-si almost every weekend together. You two had a few friends in the city as well, so it was an enjoyable time.

One night, he had refused to let you walk to your friend’s house by yourself. You didn’t want to be a burden, but you were a bit tipsy and it was late at night. You remember how your heart swelled when he just grabbed your hand and walked you to your friend’s house. You two were silent the entire time. The only thing that could be heard was the beat of your heart.

“Mingyu,” You began, while you two walked down the streets you grew up on, “how the hell did you get by in the States?”

“What?” Mingyu asked, dumbfounded, but a little bit offended.

“You sucked at English.” You deadpanned, and it resulted in a huge laugh from Mingyu’s end. You let yourself bask in the smooth sound of his laugh, since it was the first time in over five years that you have heard it. You couldn’t help but laugh a little too.

“I studied a lot when I was there. We were in New York, so there were some ESL classes for Koreans.” Mingyu explained. You looked up at him, your skin being illuminated by the city lights and moon.

Mingyu thought you had looked beautiful. He felt the familiar twinge in his heart settle back in, the twinge that signified that he could never have you.

-

You two had finally arrived at your apartment. You had made more small talk on the way, but now it was time for the truth to be unravelled.

You both sat down on your plain couch, but not before you got a beer for him and you. “So,” You began, fiddling with your fingers.

“I missed you so much.” Mingyu blurted, resulting in a dumbfounded look on your part. You had never expected him to tell you that, mainly because you felt unwanted. You were pushed aside, because Mingyu had somebody else.

But you, you had Mingyu.

“Gyu…” You croaked, feeling the pace of your heart quicken when he shifted slightly close to you. You felt 18 again. The familiar feeling of being so helplessly in love with somebody that would never love you back rose to the surface again. You had expected to hate it, but you didn’t. You were already very well acquainted with unrequited love, so it didn’t hurt as much anymore.

“Y/N,” Mingyu began, “remember when we went away? Right before I left?”

“Well, kind of. I was drunk most of the time.” You said, cowering in embarrassment.

“Exactly. So you don’t remember confessing to me, do you?”

What?

What did he just say? No, that couldn’t be. That couldn’t possibly fucking be. You would remember that, wouldn’t you? You would remember some a monumental and important moment from your youth!

Mingyu remembers the moment like it was yesterday. The two of you were outside, on the front porch of the beach house your parents owned. They had let you two go down to their beach house for a week over the summer, since they couldn’t afford to bring you anywhere else that summer. They were struggling financially.

Graduation was close. You would both be full functioning adults soon. No more staying at your parent’s house, you would be making lives for yourselves in the real world.

On your nth drink, you walked outside to the front yard, finding a hammock to settle in. Mingyu amusedly watched you fumble with the seemingly foreign device, and soon he heard a plop. You had fallen, and Mingyu was laughing uncontrollably at this point.

He jogged over to where you lied. You giggled drunkenly, basking in the smooth grass of the front yard. “Hey Gyu!” You greeted, smiling profusely.

“Hey, Y/N!” Mingyu mimicked. This was something Mingyu absolutely adored about you, your drunk side. You were absolutely adorable when drunk, and you were entertaining as well. You were just yon amplified when drunk.

Soon, the two of you were lying in the hammock, swinging softly. You lied your head on Mingyu’s chest, feeling your heartbeat pump at its maximum rate. It was an intimate and lovely moment, being able to be entangled with Mingyu like that. You even forgot that he had a girlfriend, and you pretended he was yours, even if it was just for a little bit.

“Mingyu…” You slurred, causing his eyebrows to raise in curiosity.

“Hmm?”

“I love you.” You lamented.

“I love you too, you big dummy.” Mingyu giggled.

“No, you even bigger dummy, I love you. I’m in love with you. Whenever I see you, I get happy. But then I’ll remember that I’m not yours, and you’re not mine, and then I get really fucking sad.”

“What?” Mingyu croaked. At this point, you were standing up, watching him lie down on the hammock. Despite being the one in the vulnerable state, you felt bigger. Stronger.

“And whenever you bring a new girlfriend around, it really fucking hurts! I know you’ll never love me like that, and I’ve known that ever since high school. Yes, high school, when I first fell in love with you. It’s been years, Gyu, fucking years. It’s like I’m being sucked into this huge black hole, and--”

You were interrupted with Mingyu’s lips crashing on yours. Had you expected it? No, of course not! But did you enjoy it? Hell yes!

You immediately reciprocated the kiss, even if you were in a drunken shocked state. You felt the electricity you always felt around Mingyu multiply by the millions, and the feeling of his hands on your body only excited you.

You were melting under his touch, you were nimble and controllable, but you liked it that way.

Mingyu soon pulled away, resulting in you frowning.

“I liked it.” Mingyu whispered.

“What?” You blurted.

“The fucking kiss, Y/N! I liked it. No, I fucking loved it! Shit! I have a girlfriend, Y/N. Why now?” Mingyu rambled, and you just confusedly stood there, feeling tears start to well in your eyes.

“You know what? You’re really drunk. Just go to bed, alright?” Mingyu said, and all you could do was nod in drowsiness. You stumbled all the way to your bedroom, and you didn’t know if you were more drunk on alcohol or if you were more drunk on Mingyu’s lips.

-

“You mean...I said that to you? All of that?” You murmured, completely and utterly dumbfounded. Not only that, you felt humiliated and extremely anxious.

And then it had sunk in. That night, Mingyu had kissed you. He kissed you.

“Jieun’s pregnancy was just really bad timing. If she had never of gotten pregnant, who the fuck knows what would’ve happened?”

“Yeah,” You began, “who knows?”

The silence between the two of you was thick and tense. You felt like vomiting after hearing Mingyu’s story.

“Did you, um...Did you love me back?” You whispered, biting your lip apprehensively.

“Yes, I did. I mean, do.” Mingyu answered, scratching the back of his neck.

You nodded, letting his words sink in. He was still in love with you.

“Why did you get divorced?” You asked. You knew the answer, you had just wanted to hear him say it.

“Because I was still in love with you.”

There we go. Bingo. Those words made you feel relieved and burdened at the same time. You were the reason that a marriage fell apart, and said couple did have a kid together…

But on the other hand, the man you were in love with for years had loved you back. Reality wasn’t always a slap in the face. Sometimes it was a firm pat on the back, congratulating you. This was your reality, and you didn’t exactly know how to deal with it.

You really wanted to kiss him. But something deep inside of you was stopping you.

And then soon, you thought of him. Of Jeonghan. Why would he stop you of all people? Wouldn’t he encourage this? He had set you up with people before, but for some reason, it felt different now.

And to think, if you hadn’t gone to that stupid fucking coffee shop today…

“I think you should go.” You suggested. Mingyu’s face fell immediately.

“W-why?” He questioned.

“Because I need time, Gyu. I need a lot of fucking time, because it has been five years, and you got divorced because of me, and you have a fucking son named Junghoon, and--need I say anymore? Because we both changed! And we can’t go back to the way things were, because we’re not young anymore, Gyu. We’re getting old, and we can’t live our lives based on one childhood fantasy!” You yelled. You had expected to leave Mingyu speechless, but unlike him, he retaliated.

“It wasn’t a fucking childhood fantasy, Y/N! It was us, it is us. We don’t have any time to waste, do we? So let’s just fucking do this!”

“Just go home, Gyu.”

He looked at you with angry eyes, but he would do anything to appease to you.

So, he was about to walk out the door, but then you let your impulses control you, like you’ve never done before. You always thought your way through things, never taking huge risks or living on the edge. But now? Fuck it, where the hell has thinking and living on the safe side of life gotten you?

You grabbed Mingyu’s wrist, turned him around, and fervorously pressed your lips against his. You pulled away after a minute of heated kissing, and both of you were blushing.

“Can you go home now?” You smiled weakly.

Mingyu nodded eagerly, and soon he was out of your apartment, and there you were, all by yourself. Now you only had your thoughts to listen to, not Mingyu’s silky smooth voice.

And then suddenly, you had wanted to call Jeonghan.

You then checked the time, and realized it was 1 AM. You and Jeonghan both had work the next day, so you decided not to bother him.

The excitement was over. Now you had to relish in the reality of what just happened. You loved Mingyu, sure.

But, for some reason, your head wasn’t so sure of it. Because you couldn’t help feeling guilty when you thought of Jeonghan.

You had a lot of shit to sort out.

[mahvaladara]

“You’re cute when you’re all worried”

A V x OC (Wanderley) oneshot.

“You’re cute when you’re all worried.”

V nearly choked on his own breath at that comment and looked back instantly, being met by Wanderley’s playful grin. Those amber sharp eyes fixed on him, with a mischievous glow to them, as he crossed his arms. He had no coat, no hood, and apparently, he had left the mask behind which puzzled V, as V had not felt him at all. 

How did he always do that? Be capable of being completely invisible to even the sharpest of senses.

“How did you find me?” V asked.

“I’m a spy, it’s my job,” he explained. “I’m a lightkeeper, you’re the light that I keep. I make sure the cultists and evil Pandemonia don’t try to rip out your heart from your chest. So, to ensure the safety of my job, it helps keep tabs on you on all hours of the day. Easy breezy.”

“I came here to think, on my own,” V looked away.

“I hadn’t noticed with the forlorn glance and worried pout,” Wanderley chuckled with a high pitch laugh that did not match his usual gravely voice. “Not that I am complaining. Like I said, you’re cute when you’re all worried.”

“What are you doing?” V asked. “What is this?”

“Well, I am quite clearly trying to flirt with you,” Wanderley explained. “Though, seems like you Spardas are quite dense to it.”

V stared at him, green eyes wide as his lips parted at the momentary shock, flush heating him. He looked away, avoiding Wanderley’s amber eyes. 

By this point, V should be used to the fact that Wanderley was a blunt frontal man. But what surprised V more than anything was this man’s clear interest in him. He didn’t know what to think of it, how to react to it or even equate it in the mess that was his mind and feelings at the moment.

The interest of the Cultists and even the Lightkeeper Order was clearly associated with V’s connection to the Oroth and the blood of Sparda. But he couldn’t see what ulterior motive could be motivating any interest from Wanderley. 

Yes, Wanderley was tasked with protecting him, but he was quite capable of doing that with no need to interact with him. The rest of the DMC crew certainly kept their distance, other than Nicolleta who was curious of him for obvious reasons. But what had Wanderley to gain from flirting?

“Why?” V asked.

“Oh, this is a hard one. Let me see… Because I like how plump and kissable those lovable pink lips are, I especially like when they make that mischievous little grin of them. Because I like those sad green eyes, deep like a swamp, hiding the same darkness underneath.”

“The sound of your voice, yes! Sultry and velvet, and honey and wine,” he shrugged. 

“I don’t know. Perhaps because I like how mischievous you can be, yet kind-hearted and selfless. How cunning you are, how intelligent and bright. How brave and fearless, how you’ll fight demons twice your size. But at the same time, you are not foolhardy, you know how to pick your fights. I love how vulnerable you are, how you appear so delicate yet have so much raw roughness to yourself that makes you exude a certain dominance despite your frailty.”

“I don’t know, I love all of you. Is that enough of a reason, for you?”

He couldn’t pinpoint at what point of Wanderley’s discourse V had lost the capability for speech at how shocked he was. Eyes wide, lips parted, he blinked, trying to gather his bearings at the compliments that had been made about his person. It made him wonder how often Wanderley would watch him and for how long. He most certainly could not pinpoint, or even understand the strange uncomfortable fluttering he felt inside himself at that smile and those warm amber eyes, those quite as kissable lips, so he looked away. Green eyes cast to the tiles below him.

“Never seek to tell thy love; Love that never told can be. For the gentle wind does move silently.. invisibly,” V quoted out of memory. Instinctively he fidgeted with the inner pocket of his vest, where he used to keep the book and sighed sadly, quite missing running his fingers through his pages.

He was not meant for love, he was not meant to even be alive.

“William Blake,” Wanderley chuckled. “I know one of his too: If a thing loves, it is infinite.”

“Are you prophecing your love for me?” V asked, meeting Wanderley’s eyes, that mischievous smile tugging at his lips.

Wanderley, not realizing what he had just admitted, chuckled brushing his head. Then, grabbing his usual confidence once more he grinned back.

“Hummm… I don’t know. It’s possible, you’re also a little brat with an obnoxious giant blue chicken, but, heh, I like some spice into my relationships."

[bazypitchandsimonsnow]

Part of Your World

Chapter 5: suddenly i saw you

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word count: 4234

Chapter: 5/11 (All chapters)

Summary: Baz finds a mysterious man on his kingdom’s shores.

Read on AO3

AN: This chapter is longer than the previous ones, and they’ll be longer from now on. So enjoy some more Little Mermaid AU! :D

———————————————-

Baz sat on the cliff’s edge, bow dragging across his violin strings. He played the song perfectly, of course. Even if his only audience was the open ocean and the fish below. Malcolm had asked to play outside, out of earshot for Daphne. His music was apparently “too morose” for her nerves. It was always too morose. Baz was pretty sure his family just didn’t like violin music.

With tired arms, he let the instrument fall to his lap. He looked out at the roaring ocean. A shudder ran down his spine involuntarily. Two whole weeks later and the memories still gave him shivers. The yelling on the ship, fire roaring around him, the explosion hurtling his body into the cold, cold waves.

His saviour’s voice.

Malcolm was convinced that Baz had imagined it all. Simply the hallucinations of a drowning man, putting a person in place of the tide that had washed him ashore. Baz knew not to argue. Once his father had decided something, that was the end of the discussion.

Still, he had sounded so beautiful. The words were burned into Baz’s brain. The sound of his voice, from the alto pitch to the slightly rough accent, still rang in his ears. You’re incredible, Baz. I hope you know that.

“ARF ARF!” Max jumped on Baz large paws first.

“Max!” Baz yelled as the massive sheep dog knocked him over, licking his face happily. “Max quit it!”

He still giggled in spite of himself. Even the great solemn Basilton Pitch wasn’t immune to dog adorableness. He eventually pushed himself up again, scratching behind Max’s ears.

“Yes yes, you’re cute and you know it.”

Max panted and licked Baz’s hand again. Then his ears suddenly perked up. His mouth closed as his head whipped around, big black nose twitching.

Baz pulled back. “What is it, boy?”

The sheep dog bolted away, tearing up grass beneath him. Baz scrambled to his feet. If Max got lost or hurt, Mordelia and the twins would kill him. He chased the giant mop down the hill, around the corner and across the beach. Max stopped just behind a large rock, barking loudly at something there. When Baz saw what it was, or rather who it was, he didn’t blame Max for freaking out. He was freaking out too.

It was a boy, no older than Baz himself, lying face first in the sand. His hair was a damp mess of bronze curls tangled with seaweed. His skin was another shade of gold, covered in freckles and moles, but caked with wet sand. Slowly, he lifted his head up, blinking sleepily as he focused on Baz. Bit by bit, a smile crept across his unfairly gorgeous face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. Baz almost gave up on breathing. The man’s eyes were plain blue. Not navy. Not cornflower. Not shot with hazel or violet. Just, blue. Yet somehow, it was the most breathtaking colour Baz had ever seen.

“Oh my,” he whispered. Though this man was handsome, Baz had to look away. For he was also completely naked.

Baz looked around the beach, and his eyes landed on an old piece of sail cloth. Not exactly fine couture, but it would do. He quickly grabbed the white cloth and held it out behind him to the mystery boy.

“Here,” he said quickly.

Many moments passed and Baz was still holding the cloth. Cautiously, he turned his head. Max sat obediently next to the stranger, tongue hanging out and tail wagging, waiting with characteristic excitement. The boy himself was kneeling on the sand, looking at the sail curiously. His bronze eyebrows furrowed together, lips pulled into a pouting frown. Baz found it insanely adorable. But he looked away again to resist temptation to look any lower.

“You can wear it,” Baz explained, a slight annoyed edge to his voice. “As clothing.”

The boy finally took the cloth, much to Baz’s relief. When he turned, he was mostly covered, but still struggling to wind it around himself. Baz shook his head with a sigh. Whoever this infinitely gorgeous man was, he was a little clumsy and possibly a bit dim. But...in a very cute way.

Baz put down his violin and kneeled in front of him. “Here, let me help,” he grumbled.

He helped wrapped the large fabric piece around him, then threw a corner over the stranger’s shoulder, turning it into a sort of Greek toga. A piece of frayed rope hung around the middle. So Baz tied it his waist to better hold up the makeshift outfit.

“There. Now you’re actually decent.”

Baz took gave him a good once over. The robe looked strange, but at least it covered him. The mystery man pulled and scratched at the fabric, like he wasn’t used to the sensation of it. Baz chewed on his lip. For some reason, his blue eyes and gold colouring seemed strangely familiar...

“So,” Baz said, voice pretending to be disinterested, “I should say hello, I suppose. May I ask your name?” The boy’s head snapped up and he nodded vigorously, a smile splitting across his face. Baz gave a half smile back. The anticipation for hearing his voice was reluctantly building. “Well then, spit it out. Don’t feel the need to build suspense.”

The boy opened his mouth to speak, but much to Baz’s shock and confusion, nothing came out. His lips and tongue moved like they were forming words, but there was only silence. The mystery man’s face fell, mouth slightly open and blue eyes round. His expression was somewhere between disappointed and forlorn. He softly traced over his freckled throat.

Baz’s heart sank. It’s not him, he thought sadly. It was a long shot to start with, but he was still disappointed. And this stranger looked so sad. Baz usually had little sympathy for anyone, but he certainly felt bad for this man. With an expression like that, there was no way he couldn’t. He shuffled forward a bit, knees nearly touching the man opposite him.

“You can’t speak?” Stranger shook his head, damp bronze curls shaking sadly. The corners of his lips turned down in a frown. It was a truly forlorn expression rather than confused like before. Baz pondered what to do. How was he supposed to learn about this man when he had no voice? But, words didn’t have to be spoken to be understood, really.

“Hey,” he said, catching his strange companion’s attention. “Can you spell it out? Your name?” The boy perked up and nodded. Baz offered his palm. “Then spell it here.”

Mystery boy’s eyes went wide for a second. He cautiously cupped Baz’s hand, fingertips dragging delicately there for a little longer than normal. Baz found the his hands strangely smooth, like sea glass. Much smoother than his own rough hands. (Everyone in his family tended to have rough hands.)

He pressed a smooth finger to Baz’s palm, and began to move it. “S...” Baz started, following his tracing. “I...M...O...N” He looked up at him with pulled together black brows. “Simon? Your name is Simon?”

The boy, or Simon, nodded rapidly. Baz nodded along with him. “Okay. Hello, Simon. I’m Baz.”

Simon tried to say “I know” back, but only breathed out more silence. His face twisted in frustration. Considering how rarely he used his voice when he had it, it was strange how much he missed it now. He wanted to shout at Baz. Shout, yes! I know! I know you’re name because I saved your life. And I saved you because you’re honourable and brave. I’m here now because I want to know even more about you and your amazing world.

But Simon had no voice to use. He thought about spelling it out in the sand. But...telling Baz would lead to difficult questions. “Where did you come from?” “How did you save me?” “What are you?” All of which he didn’t know how to answer yet.

Quickly, Simon perked up again, and just waved with a wide grin. Baz couldn’t help but smile. It was too damn cute.

“Well,” Baz said firmly, “do you live in Watford? Anywhere to stay?” Simon sighed and shook his head. “Okay then. You’ll have to come stay with me for now, I suppose. It only makes sense. Alright?”

Simon nodded again, so hard Baz feared his head would snap off. Baz stood up, and Simon followed. But suddenly, his legs wobbled like an unstable fawn and he fell forward.

“Shit! Careful!” Baz shouted just as he caught him. Max barked furiously at them both. Simon gripped his forearms, breathing heavily. Wow, he thought, legs are fucking weird. He looked up at Baz nervously. Simon’s heart was beating so hard with anticipation and happiness he feared it would burst.

While Baz, he felt his stomach drop like a lead weight. He had a terrible feeling that he could get lost in those plain blue eyes, and spend ages mapping the constellations of moles and freckles on this Simon’s face. He was beautiful in a way that physically ached. Even when he was awkwardly bent over in front of Baz with shaky legs, clutching to him for dear life, and dressed in a bloody tattered sail. Baz knew he was playing with fire. That these feelings were dangerous in so many ways.

But Baz had always had a thing for fire.

He hoisted Simon to his feet, then wrapped one of his arms around his neck. Simon leaned against him. His skin felt unbelievably electric on Baz’s. But Baz tried to ignore that for now in favour of helping his new companion just walk. That was the more important task.

“C’mon, one foot in front of the other,” Baz grumbled, though still going slowly as an example. Simon followed and got steadier with every step. Max barked as trotted along, almost like he was giving encouragement. Baz didn’t let go of Simon until they reached the castle. And he certainly didn’t let go of Baz.

———————————————-

“What on earth were you thinking, Basil?”

His father’s tone made Baz flinch. The last time he sounded like this was when he caught Baz smoking a pipe in a shed. What was scary was that Malcolm didn’t even need to raise his voice. The cold disapprovement was cutting enough.

“I was thinking of being a good future ruler,” he replied coolly.

“By taking in a stray?” Malcolm stood from his chair to better loom over his son. But Baz wasn’t intimidated. He merely straightened his back, clasping his long fingered hands in his lap.

“By taking in a misfortunate youth with no voice who washed up on the shores of our kingdom, probably from a shipwreck. I say that’s a noble cause worthy of a crown prince. Wouldn’t you?”

Malcolm scowled, teeth grinding together. “How do we know he’s not a spy from another kingdom? Sent to collect information?”

Baz scoffed. “Your paranoia has reached new heights, Father. But no, I don’t believe a boy no older than myself, that I found naked on a beach and could barely walk a mere few hours ago, is a spy.”

Malcolm seemed to ponder this for a moment, slowly sliding his bottom jaw back and forth. Baz just sat there, pretending he wasn’t nervous, when really a storm was brewing in the pit of his stomach. But when Malcolm let out his breath, so did Baz.

“Very well,” Malcolm grumbled. “He can stay for the time being. But he’s your responsibility, Basilton. Understood?”

Baz stood up, straightening his tunic. “Of course. I’ll feed him, play with him, and take him out for walks when he gets restless. Just like Max.” He earned a glare from his father, but Malcolm still waved him away. Baz breathed a long sigh of relief the second he was out the door.

When Baz entered his room, pushing apart the double doors, he immediately froze. There sat Simon, sitting on his bed. He wore a loose silk salmon colored tunic with tight waisted white riding trousers. They were Baz’s, given to Simon after the bath Daphne insisted he take. The sleeves and pant legs were rolled up to accommodate Simon’s shorter height. They were definitely more comfortable than a tattered sail. With the seaweed out of his hair and mud off his body, Simon looked even more beautiful. His wild curls shone brighter bronze, his freckled skin now all a gorgeous dirt-free tawny.

Baz wished he could fully appreciate him. But Mordelia’s presence put a damper on it.

“Your name is Simon, right?” she chirped, and he nodded. “Where are you from? Do you have parents? Do you have friends? Is Baz your friend now? He’s sort of a tosser though, so I wouldn’t be his friend. Are you-”

“Mordelia!” Baz barked, making both her and Simon jump and stare at him. “Stop bugging him and get out.”

“But-”

“Not ‘buts’, Mordy. Get out!”

Mordelia pouted, bottom lip unnecessarily pushed out. She shoulder checked him on the way out. Baz slammed the door behind her. He groaned, shaking his head.

“Sorry about that,” Baz grumbled. “My little sister is a royal pest.”

Simon shrugged, mouth spelling out but not saying, “it’s fine”. Baz sat opposite him on the bed. Simon was cross legged, hands holding his ankles. He was even more gorgeous up close. Baz could see the gold highlights created in his hair by candlelight and count every individual moles on his face. (Three on his right cheek, two below his left ear, and one under his left eye.) The smell of soap wafted off him. It reminded Baz of something brown and sweet. He tried very hard to ignore his brain, which just kept saying, there’s a beautiful boy in my bed, beautiful boy in my bed, beautiful boy in my bed!

Baz shook the thoughts from his head. “So how are you feeling? Much cleaner, I suppose.”

Simon smiled and held one thumb up. Baz chuckled.

“My father agreed to let you stay with us for the time being. Thankfully, he’s decided not to be a complete arsehole for once. You can sleep in the guest room next door. Is that alright?” Simon nodded. “Good. How are the clothes?”

He pouted again (how was it so cute?) and scratched at the sleeve. Simon shrugged, shoulders coming to his ears.

“Itchy?” Baz asked, and Simon nodded again with his cute frown. It wasn’t that bad actually, just unfamiliar to the former merman. Though he was starting to get used to it. Baz sighed exasperatedly, shaking his head. “It’s the softest silk I could find, Simon. I’m not sure we have anything better for your apparently delicate tastes.”

Simon rolled his eyes. Years of being friends with Penelope had trained him well for sarcastic remarks. His expression said with equal mocking, “I’ll live.”

Baz couldn’t help but give a lopsided smile. Just one half of his mouth pulled up. Baz didn’t like to smile, or show his emotions period. But this sunshiny boy, with his blue eyes and bronze curls, seemed to attack all his defenses. It was a scary and wonderful thing all at once.

“C’mon,” Baz said, gesturing as he slid off the bed. “It’s supper time.”

Simon jumped off the mattress with a bounce. He grinned with all his teeth, hiding none of his radiant joy. Baz chuckled under his breath. This Simon was certainly strange, but also entertaining, and endearingly sweet. Baz couldn’t ignore the way that made his heart stutter.

———————————————-

Dinner with the Grimm family was usually just that, grim. It was conducted without speaking, save for the occasional kingdom matters discussion between Malcolm and Daphne. So when Baz and Simon arrived at the table, the deafening silence was not out of the ordinary for the prince. But Simon found it a bit strange. Baz’s father looked like a white haired sea snake, ready to go for the kill at any moment. And everyone else, including the baby, just looked bored. Was this how all humans ate meals? Or just these ones?

“Basil,” Malcolm said.

“Father,” Baz replied coolly.

They took their seats opposite all of Baz’s younger siblings. Baz noticed that Simon looked down at the place setting with confusion, like he’d never seen one before. He picked up the fork and spun it in his fingers, examining it with a close eye. Then, to everyone’s confusion and slight horror, he started running the tongs through his bronze curls. He combed the ringlets up with a wide grin on his face. Malcolm and Daphne’s eyes went wide. Mordelia and the twins tried to contain their laughter. The baby didn’t even try, burbling with giggles. Baz put his fist to his mouth to hide the smile he couldn’t help.

Simon suddenly noticed everyone staring, freezing with the fork still wound in his thick hair. Baz slowly reached up and pulled his fork holding hand down. He shook his head slowly. Simon promptly turned beet red, flushed all the way to his ears and neck as he looked down. The children were still giggling. Baz patted Simon’s hand reassuringly under the table. Simon’s eyes flicked over to him, lips pulled up in an apologetic smile. He hooked a finger around Baz’s for, just a second. And Baz nearly turned just as red as him.

“Dinner is served,” a servant thankfully announced.

Silver plates were brought out from the kitchen, placed on the long mahogany table in front of every person. The servants lifted the silver covers. Puree for the baby, roasted chicken for the kids, and red crab with garden salads for the adults. Simon was immediately taken aback, pushing against his chair with wide eyes.

Simon didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t really explain that he was actually a merman who’d never eaten a sea creature. He ate sea vegetables mostly or animals captured from land. But never another living thing from the ocean. It felt sort of wrong. It would be impossible to explain even with words. So he just poked at the crab shell with his fork over and over again.

“Simon,” Baz started with exasperated tone, “don’t you know it’s rude to play wi-”

Simon looked up and Baz’s breath immediately hitched. He looked pained, face all pinched up like someone had needled him the gut. He poked the shellfish again and shrugged.

“What? Not a fan of crab?”

Simon shook his head, bent over in embarrassment. He didn’t like this. It was just reminding him that as much as he loved it, he wasn’t really a part of this world. But at the same time he couldn’t bring himself to do something so against his nature.

Baz sighed, long and heavy. If this were anyone else, he’d tell them to just get over it. But Simon’s face, red and ashamed and distressed, could somehow not be so easily dismissed by him. Once again, his cold defences faltered under sunshine. So he turned to the kitchen and called, “Chef Pritchard, it appears our guest here is picky and doesn't wish to eat the crab. Can you please get him something else?”

“Of course, your highness,” the chef replied.

“Thank you.”

A serving man whisked away Simon’s crab plate. Simon looked at Baz with what he hoped was a thankful enough expression. If Simon had complained like that to his father, he would’ve been told to suck it up. But for once, he didn’t feel stupid for voicing his opinion (well, voicing in a way.) Baz merely nodded in acknowledgement. But Simon didn’t miss the soft pull at the corners of his lips. It made Simon’s stomach feel so warm.

As Baz ate his crab, he tried to will his blush to disappear. He prayed to God his father didn’t notice. And maybe, just a little, that Simon did.

———————————————-

Later that night, Simon laid in the plush bed, staring up at the ceiling. Candle light from his bedside flickered shadows across the stone. The images was like nothing he’d ever seen before. Poseidon’s Beard, everything was like nothing he’d ever seen before. He didn’t know a bed could be so soft and not made of coral. He’d never realised how great clothes could feel, now that he was used to them. And even though legs were still strange (how did the humans operate two limbs at once to move?!), he took great enjoyment in the little things he could do with them. Like wiggle his toes and shuffle his feet on the carpet. He really liked this whole being human thing.

“Simon!”

Simon bolted up in bed. He looked around his empty room. The only sound was a tapping at the window behind his bed. Cautiously, he turned to it. A seagull was hitting the glass with it’s bill. What in Neptune’s name, Simon thought.

“Simon!” It screeched again. Simon scrambled back, wondering if that spell had messed with his brain as well as changed his body. Wait, he knew that voice.

“Penny?” Simon mouthed. The seagull nodded.

“Yes, it’s me, Simon. Open the damn window.”

He cautiously crawled forward and unlatched the window. Seagull-Penny flew in, landing on Simon’s mattress. She ruffled her white feathers and grinned as best she could with a seagull beak.

“Neat, huh?” She said. “My possession has gotten much better.”

Clearly, Simon thought, nodding slowly.

“How’s the prince seduction going? He kiss you yet?”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. It’d only been a day. Penelope was obviously being optimistic just to make him feel better.

She sighed, which came out more as a honk. “That’s too bad. Hope he does it soon.”

He reached forward and patted her feathered head, mouthing, “me too.”

“How is he, anyway, your prince? When he’s not unconscious. Do you like him?”

Simon chuckled, then sighed dreamily. It was odd. Baz was wonderful in the most confounding ways. He did nice things for Simon with sarcasm attached but did them all the same. And it wasn’t the truly cruel berating Simon was used to from his father. Baz was a very strange, very good person. So Simon did like him, quite a lot.

He could feel the colour creeping up his cheeks. (That kept happening today.) He bit at his bottom lip and nodded. Penny smiled brightly with her seagull face.

“Marvelous. Glad you didn’t sacrifice your voice and magic for nothing.”

He laughed without sound, head thrown back. Penelope the Seagull honked as well.

“Simon?” Baz said from outside the door, knocking once.

Simon’s spine straightened, and Penny-Gull froze. “Shit,” she hissed. “I’ll see you later. Promise.” Simon nodded in agreement as he shooed her out the window, latching it behind her. He rushed to the door, smoothing his hair once before opening it.

Baz stumbled back as Simon shoved his head through the crack. He nearly dropped the plate in his hand. Simon just looked at him with a grin, not moving to open the door further.

“May I come in?” He asked, both annoyed and amused. Simon’s mouth formed an ‘o’, then he nodded, opening the door all the way.

Simon sped walked to his bed and jumped on it with a thump. Baz sat gingerly in front of him. He placed the cloth covered plate between them. Simon looked at it with profound confusion.

“Ah, here,” Baz said. He pulled off the napkin to reveal six freshly baked pastries. “Compliments of Chef Pritchard. She wanted to welcome you with her specialty. They’re called sour cherry scones. Try one, they’re quiet good.”

Simon picked one up gingerly. It was warm, crumbly, and smelt wonderful. He took a cautious bite, and his eyes went wide. It was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. The sugary, fruity taste exploded over his tongue. He chomped down, finishing it in three bites. He took another and ate it just as ravenously. Baz make a slightly horrified noise.

“Dear lord,” he chuckled. “Your manners are absolutely atrocious.”

Simon stuck his scone crumb covered tongue out and took another defiant bite. Baz chuckled more, picking up a treat before Simon ate all of them. Far too soon though, Simon had consumed every last cherry flavoured crumb. He licked his fingers happily. Baz tried to shove down all the inappropriate thoughts that motion created.

“So,” Baz started, “tomorrow I have a dreadfully boring council meeting in the afternoon. But I’m free in the morning. Would you...like to do something?”

Simon nodded vigorously. Yes please, yes please, he thought. Baz nodded only once.

“Good. Get a good night’s rest, then. We’ll have to wake early.” He picked up the empty scone plate and stood straight backed by the bed. “Goodnight, Simon.”

Simon beamed brightly and waved, mouthing “goodnight” with a smile. Baz smiled politely, then grinned wider as he walked out the door.

Once he heard the click of the doorknob, Simon sighed and fell back onto his mattress. He felt like he was floating. For the first time, his life felt like his own. No worrying about his stupid magic or his father’s expectations. Just imagining what he would do with Baz tomorrow. And by Neptune, he couldn’t wait.

He blew out his candle and snuggled down into his pillow. As he dreamt, all Simon saw was grey eyes and raven hair.

———————————————-

See you on Thursday! :)

[martymulders]

Title: Amor Firmus Rating: R, for naughty words Pairing: Hank/Charlie Spoilers: The Devil’s Threesome (season 1) Unimportant notes:  Alright, so, here’s the thing,  I wrote this story /years/ ago for a request on my old tumblr (I know, there *was* a time when people on tumblr used to read male slash.  I know.  Your mind is being blown right now--teehee. blown. slash. anyway moving on.)  I found it again recently and decided it was actually pretty good and... well, here we are.  

I didn’t/don’t watch Californication but I’ve seen enough of it to know the characters pretty well.  And, despite all the problems I have with the show, there are aspects I really though had good potential if the writers had been better.  I’ve come to quite like the HankxCharlie pairing (thanks to that anon years ago who asked I write this).  HankxLew was also enjoyable~ i gotta’ few HankxLew fics hidden away somewhere, too.

I semi-beta’d it when I found it but nothing hardcore.  Forgive anything I overlooked.  And as for the title, it’s latin.  “Amour” means love, “Firms” means “strong/dependable”.  A strong love, good for Hank and Charlie, me thinks.

L. A. was chilly.  At least, it seemed cold to the two men standing on the filthy sidewalk.  Only thing shielding the world from their manhood being two sheets, wrapped hastily around their bodies.  Hank’s sloped down his hip, revealing some of his hipbone.  Charlie had his over his shoulders like some adolescent toga, covering his more ample frame.  The shorter man pulled the other side up around his shoulder, protecting him from the cold.  Now he resembled more of a large baby cloaked in his security blanket, Hank thought, looking at his friend.  The forlorn look he wore didn’t diminish from the mental image Hank had.

Smiling with a sad acceptance, Hank walked over to Charlie, putting his arm around him.

“Now you really look like a man-baby,” Hank said, guiding both of them back towards Hank’s place.  They’d been out in the cold far too long and the sweat that had cooled on their skin hadn’t helped.

With a slightly surprised but amused scoff, Charlie replied sarcastically, “Thank you.  That really made me feel much better about the total destruction of my life.”

Hank said nothing but somehow the mood had actually lifted.  Hank and Charlie had a way of doing that for each other.  No matter how bad things got and how dire the consequences looked, they were somehow able to brighten up the moment.  Just a bit but that made a world of difference.  When they both made it inside, the pair of men both sank onto the couch.  Each one presenting their own version of a thoughtful pout for a long moment.   Hank broke the silence.

“… She had great timing, though.”

Charlie’s head slowly turned towards the other man, eyes wide with surprise and astonishment at the line.  Hank stared back until just the slightest bit, he cracked a smile.  This broke Charlie and the two began to laugh as though they had just been told the funniest joke in the world.

“I’m serious!” Hank sat up some, still greatly amused. He spoke while Charlie laughed, “And fantastic aim, too!  I mean, it was perfect! Like a ballet!”

“Vaginal Juice Lake!” Charlie supplied, doubling over with the force of his laughs.

“A Midsummer’s Night WET Dream!” Hank shot back, eyes filled with tears.

“THE NUTCRACKER!”

Both men cackled unapologetically until their stomachs hurt and tears ran from their eyes. When the laughter subsided, the two were arguably in a better mood.  Leaning back on the couch, they each caught their breath before speaking.  Charlie spoke first, his tone was light despite the depressing subject matter,

“We certainly have a way with the ladies, Hank…”

“Speak for yourself, home skillet. I’m a regular modern day Don Juan.”

Charlie gave him a “don’t bullshit me” look and Hank snorted in agreement.  Then said, “Alright. So, we have a little work to do in that category.”

“Some more then others,” Charlie muttered, fixing his sheet-clothing.  Hank raised his eyebrow, taking the remark personally at first.

“What’s that mean?”

Charlie shrugged, resting back against the couch, Hank’s arm stretched out across the top of it.

“Well, I mean, yeah, sure. You gotta’ little issue with etiquette but, in general, you really are a regular Don Juan.  You’re a fucking chick magnet. No, not even a magnet. Stronger than a magnet.  A pussy superconductor.  And I’m… the Pillsbury Dough Boy. I’m the giant man-baby.”

There was a pang of regret Hank felt at teasing his friend so often now.  Twisting his lips, Hank’s eyebrows furrowed, “Come on now.  You have that whole teddy bear thing going on.  Women love that.  They love a guy who they can get all snuggly with.”

“Yeah?  Then why is my life such shit with them?  I mean, I’m not like you, Hank.  I don’t have an abundance of pussy.  No overstock of pussy in the Runkle aisle! I only had two women before Marcy and then… fucking Dani. Fucking Dani…”

“Fucking Dani,” Hank confirmed. Sighing, he looked away from his friend. Not sure what to say.  There was a long moment of silence before Charlie spoke again,

“I’m just not sure women work for me.  I always manage to fuck it up in the end.”

“You could always switch teams.”

Charlie pursed his lips as if he was giving it thought, pretending to get into the idea, “That’s a brilliant idea. Why didn’t I think of it earlier?”

With another smile they both slipped into silence again.  Charlie’s talk had gotten Hank thinking himself.  Thinking about his life, thinking about his writing, thinking about Karen.  Karen.

Charlie seemed to sense the change in Hank’s mood and rubbed his forehead, “Sorry.  I didn’t mean to make this evening worse then it already was.”

Hank came out of his reverie to look at his companion.  He shook his head, silently forgiving Charlie.  Hank’s mood still hadn’t gotten better, though.  This time it was Charlie’s turn to help his friend.

“You know, speaking of switching teams, did I ever tell you, you were in a dream I had once.”

Hank’s head shot up, his lip curled in disgust and surprise, “Excuse me?” he said. “I’m not sure I want to hear this.”  But he didn’t stop Charlie from speaking.

Charlie laughed, “No, no. I mean, we weren’t doing anything nefarious.  I was getting nice and dirty with a beautiful - I mean beautiful - woman.  Victoria Silvstedt.”

“Oh, nice,” Hank interjected, “Playmate of the Year.”

“1997,” Charlie concluded the statement, continuing on, “Anyway, so Victoria and I are enjoying some good, ol’ fashioned naughtiness and then, suddenly, I turn and you’re standing there.  Butt naked in the middle of my bedroom.”

Hank face showed something that could be considered a mixture of confusion and amusement, “What?”

“Yeah. You’re just standing there.  And I turn around back to Victoria, and I’m like, ‘I don’t know what he’s doing here’ and then I turn back to you to ask you and suddenly you’re holding a bucket of KFC, still naked, junk just hanging out there, with a drumstick in your hand, eating away at the foot of my bed while I’m trying to be a gentleman to Ms. Silvstedt.”

“That’s the most fucked up sex dream I ever heard.”

“You want to know what’s even more fucked up? I still went ahead with Victoria Silvstedt!”

Hank began to laugh and once again the mood was lifted from it’s sullen state.  The two fell into a comfortable silence.  It’d been a long night and the stress of it was wearing them both out.  Hank rubbed his eyes, getting ready to stand up from the couch when Charlie spoke again,

“You… you ever have anything like that?”

“Like what?”

“A dream,” he shrugged, “with another guy in it.”

Hank blinked, unsure of the question for a moment.  “Uuh,” he started, “Not really.  Most dreams like that, I stand as the sole cock.”

Getting the sense his friend had not wanted that answer and perhaps had more to say, Hank hesitated.  He dreaded asking further.  If he’d wanted to go to bed earlier, now he really wanted to go but he was a friend and he had to ask,

“Um… have you?”

Charlie said nothing, looking down at an invisible spot on the couch between Hank and himself.  The silence only made Hank more uncomfortable.   Finally Charlie looked up but he couldn’t seem to meet Hank’s eyes,

“Well, I-I might not have actually finished with Victoria Silvstedt.”

“Oooohkaaaay,” Hank said quickly, standing up as he spoke, “Well, it’s been a long night, I think.  And a very emotionally devastating one at that.  I will bid you goodnight, Charlie.”

Hank made like a bat out of hell for his bedroom.  He was so close, so close when Charlie spoke again,

“Hank.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuckity, fuck fuck.  There was a moment when Hank had to choose what to do.  Go inside his bedroom, shut the door and forget this ever happened or listen to his only friend, no matter what that meant.  Hank’s feet reluctantly stopped and he turned slowly towards Charlie who stood now, too.

“Hank, I love you.”

Hank nodded as if it was obvious, “And I love you, too. You’re my brother from anotha’ mother.  We’re hermanos.”  It was a cheap way out but Hank wasn’t sure what else to do.  He began to back up slowly, hoping he could make inside.

Charlie walked over to Hank, his steps even, as if he knew Hank might bolt any moment.  It was like approaching a scared animal. Fight or flight.

“Hank, I’ve known you for… years. Years. You’ve been the only thing in my life that hasn’t turned to shit.”

“That’s because I’ve always been shit,” Hank weakly joked.  He was sure he was going to bust a circuit soon.  This couldn’t be happening.

Charlie laughed slightly, “You’ve always been Hank.  I could count on that. After everything that’s happened… it’s getting harder and harder to pretend.  Everything is such fucking shit all the time! Your life might be shit, Hank, but at least you enjoy it while the party goes up in flames. I don’t.  I just… I watch it all fall apart.  And I sit in the back and I want this. I want you. I love you.”

If Hank could just make sure he kept breathing, he might be able to make it out of this.  Opening his mouth to speak, he shut it again suddenly.  Then after a moment, he spoke again,

“W-w-what about Marc?  I mean, you love Marc, Charlie. I think you’re feeling some pressure, man, and I  think it’s getting to you.”

Charlie shook his head, “No, no.  This has been something I’ve known for a long time, Hank. A long time and besides… I do love Marc but Marcy and I are done.  It’s done. We had our time and I will always love her but, I’m not going to keep chasing this illusion, like you.”

The sting caught Hank off guard. He stared at Charlie, the moment too much for him and in a most inelegant way, he replied, “Fuck you. Fuck you, Charlie.”

With that Hank stomped away to his bedroom but it was useless as Charlie followed quickly behind,

“It’s true, Hank! It’s true! You live in this fantasy like one day you’ll wake up and everything will be better and happy again! It won’t, man! Those days have come and gone and all we can do is try to move on and make ourselves happy somehow again.”

“I’M FUCKING IN LOVE WITH KAREN!” Hank whirled suddenly, screaming.

“YOU DON’T LOVE ANYTHING, HANK!” Charlie shouted back, the relatively calm man he was gone. With Hank’s silence, Charlie kept going, his volume lowering some, “You don’t love anything. You love being loved.  That’s why you want Karen, Hank, because she’s the only one who’s ever really loved you and that’s all you want again.  The feeling of being truly, unquestioningly loved.  That’s why you fuck so many people, that’s why you chase after the dream.  I know you, Hank. I know you better then anyone. I even think I know you better then you know yourself.”

There was no response.  Hank didn’t have it in him.  He slowly sank to his bed, wrapping the sheet around his shoulders.  Now he was the one who looked like a big baby--not a baby but a scared child, holding onto his security blanket with all his might.  Despite trying to hold it back, despite feeling like a big tool, Hank felt a tear slip from his swimming eyes.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked.  He couldn’t deny what Charlie said, he couldn’t fight it but he didn’t want to face it.  Charlie felt deflated looking at his friend.  He was more broken then he’d ever seen him.  He seemed genuinely shaken by the course of events.  Slowly walking over to stand in front of him, Charlie look a deep breath before speaking,

“Because I love you and I want to be happy.  And because… I’ve got so much love to give, Hank.  I have for a long time,” he laughed gently, looking down at the brunette, “and you need so much of it.  You‘re such a fucking wreck and it‘s all you need.”

Hank looked up at that, looking at Charlie.  In a moment, his breath caught as Charlie came closer to gently touch his lips to Hank’s.   Hank didn’t move, didn’t breathe. He didn’t reciprocate the kiss but he didn’t deny it either.  Charlie lingered, giving him time, and gradually Hank felt himself relax into it, opening to Charlie.  The two remained that way for a time,  exchanging years of trust and companionship through a deep but unfrenzied sliding of tongues and lips.  Charlie was the one who pulled back, his hand had somehow made its way to the back of Hank’s head, his fingers in the brown locks.

“It’s like 3 in the morning. We should probably get to bed.”

Hank nodded but words were not finding him at the moment.  With that Charlie released his friend and took hold of the bed’s blankets.  Hank stood as Charlie pulled them back.  Suddenly, Hank was struck with a sudden twinge of nervousness as Charlie partially guided him to the bed. As he sat, Hank blurted,

“I-I don’t want to do anything tonight, Charlie," he tried to cut the embarrassment with a chuckle, "Bet you never thought you'd hear me say that."

“I meant sleep, Hank.  We both need to sleep.”

Hank nodded, dropping the used sheet and pulling up the blankets quickly.  They’d been naked together not too long ago, attempting a threesome that ended terribly, but now it was different and Hank felt… vulnerable.  Much to his surprise, Charlie moved around to the other side of the bed, dropping  his sheet and getting in besides Hank. He hadn’t expected Charlie to be so assertive.  He rarely was.

Despite being naked in the same bed, Charlie kept his distance, which Hank was grateful for.  It wasn’t even that he didn’t want it, he thought… he thought he might but he wasn’t ready. Not yet.  Everything was still too new, too fresh.  This needed a slow transition.

Charlie rested on his elbow, looking at Hank.  Hank was on his back, head on his pillow and he stared back.  Both had no emotion.  They were just looking at one another.  He wasn’t sure what his face showed but it didn’t discourage Charlie.  Which, surprisingly enough, Hank was also grateful for.  Charlie’s, though… Charlie’s was different.  Sure, it was the same face he’d known for years. The face of his best friend, his agent. The same face Charlie had always had but his eyes… his eyes were different. They shined bright with promise, with expectation.  It unsettled Hank and comforted him all at the same time.

“Goodnight, Hank,” Charlie said, “I love you.”

“Goodnight, Charlie. I…” he couldn’t.  The words wouldn’t come out.  Charlie didn’t seem unnerved by Hank’s lack of affection.  He knew.  It’d take time.  Hank needed time. He might be able to say them eventually but not now.  He knew the man better then the man knew himself.

Lying down, Charlie didn’t look away from Hank.  Each one absorbing each other in the dark.  Suddenly, in this odd moment, Hank felt the corners of his mouth turn up in the smallest smile.  Very small but noticeable. Charlie smiled back.

It was more then a smile.  It was a small sign that perhaps everything would be okay.  The two men closed their tired eyes and let the new anticipation and discovery guide them to sleep — but not before,

“Hey, Charlie?”

“Yeah?”

“… Did I at least share the fried chicken with you?”

[elevanetheirin]

"Because I love you" Something angsty maybe? I wanna feel the pain.

Thanks for the prompt @5ftgarden I don’t know how well I will do, I don’t really “do” angst lol but here it goes….

Anders X Fem!Hawkefor @dadrunkwriting

 Hawke had gone to some place called Skyhold to help Varric, which Anders supposed he couldn’t fault her, Varric was her best friend and he was the one that had helped them slip out of Kirkwall after he had allowed Justice to blow up the Chantry. Anders couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong though. She’d been gone for months and Aveline and Carver refused to look at him anymore. Ok, if he were honest with himself Carver never looked at him, but now he actively avoided being even in the same room with Anders and that put him on edge to say nothing of making Justice even harder to control again. Luckily Aveline had taken them out to the Maker forsaken middle of nowhere and there was nothing for Justice to destroy, at least for now.

 A couple of weeks ago a rider had come with a message but Aveline and Carver had behaved like it wasn’t about Hawke. Anders didn’t believe it for a moment but what could he do if they wouldn’t talk to him. He sighed deeply as he picked up Ser Pounce-A-Lot III and headed down to the nearby brook to read. He needed to clear his head of the worry he’d had since the day Hawke had left.

 Absently Anders stroked the fluffy tabby and drifted off to sleep before he so much as cracked the book open. Suddenly he was standing in a place he’d never seen. It looked like the fade but it was different than any part of the fade he had ever seen before. The rocks were floating and there was water dripping everywhere, not to mention the obvious demons roaming around. What was even odder was that in the Fade Justice was the one in charge, had been since the day he had agreed to help his friend and let him become part of Anders, this time however he could see Justice alone a short distance away. After peering at Anders for a moment Justice turned his back on Anders. Was he mistaken or did Justice actually look sad? The whole place was forlorn and forboding. 

Softly at first Anders thought he heard people talking, he turned to the sound of the voices and from around the corner walked Hawke, Anders’ heart lept from his chest as he began calling to her. Hawke didn’t even notice he was running to her. The rest of the voices followed Hawke, there was Varric, and was that? It was! It was Alistair. Anders remembered him from his time with the Grey Warden. With them was a mage in flashy robes with snakes all over it, he sounded like he was Tevinter, a large quite obviously nervous Qunari and a woman whom Anders could only assume was the Inquisitor because the magic emanating  from her hand could be none other than the magic she used to close rifts. No matter what he did he couldn’t seem to get their attention. When he glanced at Justice the spirit only shook his head sadly.

Anders decided the only thing he could do was watch to see what happened. So he followed them. The Inquisitor spent a lot of time easing the pain of dreamers within the fade. They spoke to a spirit who looked like Divine Justinia who helped the Inquisitor remember what had happened at the Divine Conclave. Anders watched the whole thing wishing he could help. The Inquisitor seemed to be in a lot of pain and turmoil from what she learned from the spirit. Even with all that was going on Anders couldn’t help feeling as though something bad were about to happen as they reached what the group continued to call a rift. 

A giant spider-like beast stood between them in what was obvious to him now an opening back into the world, the spirit that had assumed the form of Justinia moved toward the spider-beast causing it to dissipate into the void of the fade. The companions fought hard against the remaining demon, THE Fear demon. He’d watched his beloved and her companions wade their way through the fade ti defeat this beast who wanted to rule the world with fear and help the mad Magister they had freed to destroy everything they knew.

Once the Fear demon was defeated the spider had returned. Anders watched helplessly as Hawke, ever the brave woman she was, he chose to use the term brave even though he also knew she often acted without thinking run head long into the spider distracting it from the rest of the party. 

 Horrified he watched the rift close behind the Inquisitor as Hawke remained behind. She did everything she could to kill the beast and while she succeeded Anders screamed and ran to her side when the realization that she was gravely injured dawned on him. He reached out to grab her up, forgetting that he hadn’t been able to even speak to her much less touch her in the time he’d been with her in the fade. Justice stood just steps away looking sadly at Anders. He fell to his knees begging Hawke not to die, before his eyes Hawke disappeared and Anders laid himself where she had lain and cried out for her. He knew, somehow that he had witnessed her end, his heart shattered, even Justice looked as though he’d died a little when Hawke had disappeared.

“Anders? Is that you?” Her voice broke through the despair that had become Anders’ waking nightmare. 

He raised his head, turning to look in the direction of the most beautiful sound he could have ever imagined, it was like the first time he’d heard her voice in Darktown the the day they’d met.

Hawke walked slowly towards Anders. “What are you doing here? I didn’t think I’d see you again, well at least not while you were still alive…” Hawke smiled

“What…what happened? How could you have done that, you gave yourself to save them, but what about me? What about us?” he was still crying, his face stained with the tear trails down his cheeks and the dirt he’d picked up along his journey in the fade.

Hawke grinned and reached out for Anders. She had become solid, he could hold her and touch her. He didn’t even question this miracle, it was the fade after all and very little made sense here. 

“I’ll leave you two to talk,” Justice murmured. He hadn’t approved of their relationship at first but as time went on he’d come to realize that Hawke was the only thing that kept him from turning completely into Vengeance and for that he would always be grateful to her. He left the two to talk. He hoped their conversation would prevent Anders from falling into a despair that no one could get him out of.

Hawke nodded acknowledgement at Justice and turned back to Anders, “I didn’t do it for them, I did it for you my Love.”

“For me? That’s insane, I wasn’t even here!” Anders’ sadness turned to confusion quickly.

“Corypheus would rule the world, with just a little power he controlled you, controlled all the Wardens. I couldn’t let that happen. I saw the chance to save you from that pain, that constant nagging in your head, so I took it. Yes, it helps the whole world, and it helped them leave this place but if I didn’t stop this here and now there would have been no one to stop Corypheus and you would be left with a far bigger inner battle than the one you fight with Justice every day.” Hawke smiled again.

“ I need you, why would you do this? I still don’t understand.” Anders’ confusion on his own face but he was fighting hard to memorize hers knowing when he woke he would no longer be able to hold her, to look into her eyes.

“I did it because I love you Anders, I will always love you, and I will wait for you here in the fade until you’re ready, please don’t make it sooner than it needs to be” Tears filled her eyes. “Promise me Justice, you will look after him, that you two will stop the fighting. The mages have their justice now, thanks to the Inquisitor it’s time you laid down your fight Justice and just take care of Anders, for me, and for you.” Hawke peered at Justice who had turned towards them watching their conversation.

Justice nodded curtly once and turned and walked away. Hawke kept her eye on him until she realized Justice had no intention of returning. At some point it appeared that Justice had decided to stay where he belonged, in the fade. Anders would be completely alone now and she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not but she was relieved to find he was gone for good this time.

She held Anders for a long time, the two of them kissing and professing their love. Anders promised to visit her when he slept, it would take some practice but he was sure he could make it happen, after all, mages manipulate the fade don’t they? 

When he left Anders’ heart ached and it was more painful knowing she’d sacrificed herself for him but he’d somehow have to push on, maybe he and Carver could at least TRY to be friends, after all, they only had each other now.

Ok, I don’t know how good this is, seems like I am missing something but there it is lol 

thanks again for the prompt

Here’s my Prompt list if you’re looking to request

[changingbirdpoems]

poems not about any particular person: 2008

a poem for Lincoln’s birthday (Feb. 12)

there is entropy growing in alwaysgardens needing only soil and water and air. Sunlight’s irrelevant to photosynthesis breaking out of haiku, loosening all form,      casting aspersions on carbon dioxide, our favorite exhale

down

the soil needs Sunlight too (ultraviolet cravings and a tendency to ask for solidthings). we are moving towards chaos, leaving glucose as our only trail of rebellion      

-

prosetry

There was nothing in her eyes to feed his heart. He looked at her. He always looked at her. She was always standing next to him, looking away, mouth hanging slightly open. Every light fixture in the room strained to illuminate them.

Inconsolable, his heart was made of plants that grow only when spoken to. He blinked as her silence withered his body. He was a man who was tired of feeling worthless. He began all his sentences the same way. He wrote so slowly that his typewriter had begun writing ahead of him. He. All of her sentences varied, and she never blinked. Blue eyes never need to be moistened, as they are already water. Fruit trees grew in her apartment; their branches and vines were cruel and wonderful, growing out of her occasional words. When she would laugh, all the lights would flicker, straining to hear the soft sound. He wanted to be her light, but she was a woman who promised nothing but erasure.

-

Summer Rebellion

Looking at love that is stranger than mine, memories of sweat dripping down to a place Really, the reminiscence is soft, like the light we would bathe in, feeling nights on northern streets, flying out of cars out of breath into stores for liquor or for old, used things we never needed But God did we want Lying on cement, tar beneath our backs, hands close, we were Awake like owls in a lightning storm There was a river that June night you whispered away the fog; we tore off our clothes and swam until it was morning and we couldn’t ever go home again. That afternoon the guitar strings broke. You wore thinner clothes and asked me to hold you less Rolling stolen cars into lakes, practicing escaping, practicing holding our breath and looking in each other’s eyes through water and moonlight, as though we were made of universe. As though we were in love. When really we were just musicians. Real artists kiss with their eyes open, you’d say quietly firmly transcendentally touching the red tired space beneath my eyes opening your mouth for a last breath.

-

June 20

so there’s this fear

swallowing the strands of our color but we never

ask it to calm down

to slow the trickle, no we only

breathe in and feel the burn,

and say thank you like good children

as if we have no right, no birthright to honesty

But hey, this is how the world turns

and those who grow cacti shouldn’t complain

about prickles,

you know?

-

June 22

there’s a cold storm rising on the mississippi river pulling out its tendrils to the mist it washes up the ocean whales and seaweed vanished letting us drown in our own piss there’s a sad way you look when you smile at your mother as though you know she never wanted this there’s a sweet little flavor dusting o’er the hilltops as though it could find the way to my mouth or some other orchard dust on, old mother dust on you have found your own boundaries but they do not exist

-

July 7

the ocean that reaches out its hand to feel out the features of my face as though a blind man lingers in its waves will find itself also my bed, my home, my landlord fingernail shells and seaweed tongues promises against my ankles in and out, a tide of words and purpose.

-

July 13

In a storm, the car can be the safest place, they say - All that rubber underneath you. I disagree

no lonely place can ever be a safe place. Purgatory’s the word.

Purgatory.

-

July 14

once I found a weeping willow asleep by the side of the road it was weary yet nascent, drooping into its beginnings cradling each branch, I picked it up and gently silently set it down in the back of my truck I took it home with me, fed it some sunlight (which was really all that I had to give) and asked it, please, to wake

if it must weep, understandable, but to lie so listlessly? no, it must open its eyes

I told it, Oh you are just becoming you have so much existence to look forward to, I promise the next day it awoke and humored existence for an hour, before . . I would have cried, but salt water wouldn’t save a weeping willow

-

July 15

so I hear that you’ve been raining in santa monica,

little cloud? the sahara will be so disappointed in you

-

July 28 (Rollercoaster)

I find this innate bursting forth from every living thing.

Even the trudging existences seem to inevitably flow from a center of energy beneath it all.

It’s not so much the thrill of the risk as it is the appreciation that you are hurtling through space unscathed. One doesn’t enjoy happiness just because the alternative is death. There’s a moment     for existence and you don’t refuse. That is the thrill of such a giant machine.

-

July 30

little lies turn into pavement on my tongue, furnishing this purgatory highway, rain-strewn and sullen, like a teenager doesn’t have to be.  let me taste morning dew,  let things run their course. each person to their own mistakes. fly. I’ll hold you.

-

July 31

Each knuckle of my spine clenches with the road, ears quiet as horses underwater. The most comfortable the world has ever been. For once, on this hope-strewn highway, there is no need to be anyone else.

At peace.

-

August 2

It’s like the difference between jam and jelly– one with pieces of its origin–one smoothed–purified–cleansed of its form– broken in a jar by the porch–green, ephemeral rain lifting each leaf–above the mountains, mist warns (it will not always be so gentle)– there once was a time when spiders spoke and mountains disappeared.

-

August 3

Like seahorses, an incredible delicacy– Wings of tinderdust–they make love like pendulums. Rewarding our silence with gentle alighting, these neon fish of the air.

-

August 4

Each quiet is its own. Opening my eyes underwater, a different sort of clarity brushes in ripples across my vision. For every silence that we hum into being, a loon rises like a phoenix from the ashes of the lake.

-

August 5 (a haiku)

the mountain has left but in the moss you can find other ways to breathe

-

August 6

fields of corn off the side of the highway condemn any person who says that there isn’t beauty in the every day

-

August 7

Who would have thought that I could find New Hampshire in the middle of Virginia? A hidden portal pocket takes me back to my peaceland, but now I am with two gems, curled up in my hair like phosphorus. I have always found the semiprecious stones to be more beautiful.

-

August 12

Work. Try to complete. Try to succeed for this new bursting forth? Try.

-

August 13

This old shaking. Listing the people I have loved

I come to face with this sadness I have mostly

expelled. I remember the ancient need to reach

out. A rainforest mist of good intentions

keeps a constant dew of uncaring hands at my waist.

Songless prophecies.

That first saffron love pirouettes between your

legs. Many people set up butterfly nets for love,

but I have begun to just fly with it.

-

August 29

sliding through the sky cracks of the school summit I am faced with an absence of familiarity, and my ankles feel naked without grass licking at their skin- i am weighed down I am weighed down before I even sat upon the heights of new adventure.

-

September 3

I saw you brushing your lonely hair today,

outside the locker room. There isn’t much

a person can hide. Hold on to it. Let

everything else roam.

-

a haiku for you

it’s been a long time since I sat down and spelled out one of these flowers

-

lost and disconnected

This is not your year, the turquoise water informs through the rusted iron fence, luring into a sinking sort of dance, each forlorn creature floating with a lassitude unfortunate and inescapable. It is mine.

-

[thebigcitynightsband]

Bus King/Busking/Night Moves

That’s a photo of me and my ex-gf. I just found it last week in my bag that Jamie brought to me from Burlington, thanks Jamie bro. Happier times, man. We’re still friends but we don’t see each other much. That’s a repeating pattern with me. Me and a gal will break up, declare an intention to stay friends, and then I be their friend while they work hard at vanishing from my life and into the arms of some dude who hates me cuz I’m still her friend. Happened with Jessica, happened with Courtney. Next time I’ll just do the sudden severance. Seems to work for other people.

Well, fuck. I’ve been struggling a little bit lately. Still sober, still pissing in a cup every day. My hours got cut at work for a few weeks but they’re back up to full-time next week, where they’ll remain until mid-December. I’m trying to save my apartment, need to find a roommate to take over the lease, which requires first and last, which I don’t have but I’m trying to acquire somehow.

A few days ago I went busking for the first time in about a year. Queen and University is my corner, northwest side. I like it there because you get a lot of 905ers coming out of Osgoode Station to go explore Queen West, people who don’t ordinarily see buskers, so they’re generous. I can only play for about three hours on an acoustic before my fingers start to hurt too much to play chords, and you average about six bucks an hour. I write a lot of songs that way. “Make It Mine” off the new album was written while busking last year and I came up with a few new ones the other day. It was a good day, actually. I woke up broke and without food and ended the day with a full belly and a pack of cigarettes and an Arizona Iced Tea. I felt content. So I’m gonna go back out there tomorrow. And probably the next day too.

My laptop died and I almost lost the record, but I was able to extract the files after a few days of feeling numb and worried. I really like our upcoming album, the songs have kept me good company over the past year, and the thought of losing the whole damn thing, save for “Fighting Ways” which is finished, and a handful of others, was a little scary. It’s not gone though. Sweet relief. BCN songs are like cockroaches. They find a way. Cue “Long Distance King” in your head as you read that last line...”we’ll find a waaaaay, we’ll fiiind a waaaaay.” Glory days. Before everything went to shit.

Hey, know what’s a great record? Break Up Break Down by Reigning Sound. Listen to the quavering, breathless delivery from Greg Cartwright on this one: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7fWcZKZR3jg

Another great one off that record is called “Want You,” a really sad, pretty ballad. I’d like to make an album of Memphis ballads some day, in the vein of Break Up Break Down. We’ll call it Fuck Up Fuck Off or something.

I set up my keyboard tonight with a mind to do some overdubs tomorrow. I’ve been avoiding doing keyboard overdubs on the album forever because I’m a terrible keyboard player and it takes a really long time to get a single coherent take and I don’t have the patience that I used to. I finished “Night Needles” from A Steamroller Named Desire in a single evening, and that song has probably the most piano of any BCN song. I doubt I could do the same thing now. I’m older now and runnin against the wind, as Bob Seger would sing. Has sung, whatever. Running Against the Wind. I love that song. “Wish I didn’t know now what I didn’t know then” is a great line eh? Legend has it Seger wanted to cut that line but the producer told him how great it was, which it is. Oftentimes artists can’t recognize their own greatness. Years ago, when I was sixteen or so, I was trying to put together a set of acoustic covers in my bedroom. I remember doing “Leave It Alone” by Moist, which is pretty embarrassing now, but also “Against the Wind” and an acoustic version of the Smashing Pumpkin’s “Ava Adore,” which I was surprised to find has a very similar chord progression as “Against the Wind.” I mean, those two songs sound nothing alike, yet they’re very alike, chord-wise.

ANYWAY I’m rambling. Just finished an assignment for a client (I do people’s homework for them as a side hustle. Forty bucks here, sixty bucks there, it all goes into the giant hole I dug for myself the past few years.) I owe money to one guy who actually chased me this past January, up near Dovercourt and Hallam. I had to jump a couple fences but I got away. He’ll get paid soon enough. They all do.

I’m working on it man. Pushing against the tide. Runnin against the wind.

One last thing about that Bob Seger song: I’ve always thought that part where he yells “let the cowboys ride!” at the end of the song was stupid. Why couldn’t he have taken that part out? It’s so obvious that he was out of ideas and just mustered up the best open field imagery he could in the moment. Let the cowboys ride? Given the greatness that comes before that line, I can’t dismiss the song, even if it’s not as good as the immortal “Night Moves.”

A quick word about “Night Moves” before I go. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_mRFWQoXq4c I honestly think it’s one of the greatest all-time vocal performances. There are three distinct parts in the song that always give me shivers. The first is that irresistible “summertime summertime” part @ 2:19. The second comes in that great breakdown, when the title changes from a sexual innuendo to a somber, forlorn musing on the passage of time and how time can move slower when you’re bored, faster when you’re absorbed and excited. Ain’t it funny how the night moves...when you just don’t seem to haaaaaaaave as much to lo-o-se. It’s that “have” that always gets me...just the way Seger gives it the perfect amount of witsfulness and gravelly gravity. Fuckin killer. Singing is always a fine balance between technical proficiency and emotional delivery, but on that line Seger’s 99% heart, 1% technique, and it still sounds incredible. To me, at least.

The last part is in the final minor descending refrain @ 5:04, even though it’s just Bob doing a bunch of “ooooohooohoohhhs.” It wouldn’t be as good if that vocal came over the main riff, but it doesn’t. It comes over the same chord progression as the chorus, that sad lilting minor key descent. Every time, man. Every time.

I’ve been trying to cover “Night Moves” since 2007. I don’t think I’ve ever got past the first chorus. I just can’t sell it. Those aren’t my memories, they’re Bob Seger’s. I never existed in the 1950s America he’s singing about in the song, the America of taking your sweetheart to the drive-in, cruising the strip, going to diners and pushing coins into jukeboxes. That wasn’t my adolescence. So it’s a tough one to sing. You have to know when you’re beaten. That’s part of growing up.

I don’t talk to my Dad anymore. He hates my guts and so does his girlfriend. It doesn’t bother me except for when I hear certain songs...songs like “Night Moves” or “Walking On The Moon” by The Police...first time I ever heard my father sing on the way to Owen Sound for a hockey tournament I was playing...it was the chorus, that “no way, chasing your cares away” part, and we had sunflower seeds and that was the night I fell in love with highways and movement and travel and all that Kerouac stuff I’d get obsessed with later, all those fuckin notebooks I filled with eager scrawling about road trips I hadn’t yet taken. I lost all those notebooks somehow, can’t remember maybe I tossed them all on purpose, kind of a year zero event. Too much in those notebooks was lines from existing songs. I remember one time going through an old notebook and seeing “the sea is foaming like a bottle of beer” and thinking I’d written it...nope...it was a Weezer song. I’d just scrawled out that one line hammered one night, drunk at 17, back when it was actually exciting to get drunk and not a sad chore like it later became.

I’m going busking tomorrow. I might not be able to do “Night Moves” but I can bust out “Against the Wind.” I ain’t licked yet. It ain’t over. I’m older now and still runnin against the wind. Let the cowboys ride or whatever.

Edit, PS: That was a really dramatic fuckin post. I’m sorry. For some much-needed levity, here’s a picture of me from last week. Some friends visited while I was in bed, and I came out to say hello still holding my book.  PPS: Hey, know another great Bob Seger song? “Still the Same,” especially those ghostly backing vocals in the second verse. Check it out: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HjDpKeiYxOU PPPS: Hey, know another song that has cool ghostly additional instrumental in the second verse? Bruce Springsteen’s “Downbound Train.” It’s not his greatest song and I don’t like Bruce’s overdone “blue collar accent,” the dumb slurring he likes to do in order to sound more like a mechanic making $20 000 a year, but that beautiful synth organ that comes in on the second verse is just heartwrenching, listen for it @ 0:49: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nc_mv46NwT4 The organ has a pretty sweet solo for one-bar starting at 1:21. If I could get that organ tone, I wouldn’t put off doing keyboard overdubs, lemme tell ya son, I tell ya what.