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pix3lplays · 10 months

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Hi! Your blog is so cool, I'm amazed by the quality. I hope you are not tired of topics like that, if yes please feel free to ignore that ask. May I have Welt, Sampo, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Loucha and Blade breaking up with their s/o for some reason and then after few good years seeing her with a kid that's very similar to them. It turns out that she was pregnant back then but never got a chance to tell them. Thank you in advance. I hope you have great day.

You’re so nice oh my gosh thank you so much! The Quality, I’m blushing, thank you! And I will probably never tire of pregnancy prompts to be honest, they’re so Entertaining, I say bring ‘em on.

Cw! Pregnancy

-Honkai Star rail men: breaking up with them but it turns out you were pregnant-

Welt Yang: Welt Yang misses you, frequently….but really you had to break it off. He was a wonderer with the Astral Express crew, you wanted to settle down…it was clear you two just weren’t going to work out. He still hoped you could remain friends, and you agreed, but didn’t really contact him. When you did talk over text you were vague and unresponsive, almost like you were distracted by something else, so eventually the two of you just stopped talking. Until you realize you’ve left something important of yours behind on the Astral Express, and you can’t find a babysitter in time for your four-year-old. Oh well. Guess you’ll have to take her with you. You hoped you didn’t run into Welt, but of course he’s the first one to greet you when you step through the doors. He’s smiling, happy to see you, then his eyes trail down to the little hand your holding, and then he catches sight of her. That Must be his daughter. She has the same brown hair as him, the time works out…it was the only thing that made sense. “Oh…” is what he says, unsure of what else to do or say. “Y/n…why didn’t you tell me?” “I’m sorry, Welt, I know I should’ve told you but…” you trail off, now that you’re in the moment it’s hard to say you didn’t tell him because you were mad at him for breaking up with you. “It’s alright…may I talk to her?” You nod but say firmly, “sure but remember we’re just friends.” It breaks his heart a little bit to hear you talk about him like that, but he also knows it’s fair, so he doesn’t complain. He kneels down to get on eye level with the girl. “I’m Welt Yang…you can call me Mr. Yang. It’s a pleasure to meet you, I hope you and I can be friends?” Your daughter looks at you pensively, unsure if it was okay to talk to this stranger. “It’s alright, Love. Mr. Yang is a good friend of mine, you can trust him.” And you let him properly spend some time with his daughter, though, she refers to him as Mr. Yang the entire time, and he is a little stiff and awkward to be meeting his daughter, but oh…he’s happy. It saddens him to know you just intended to disappear out of his life again, with his daughter beside you. “May I see you again?” he asks you. “If not for me, for our…your daughter. Let me at least help provide for her?” Welt Yang…it was a tempting offer, you could really use the help, and what he was referring to was a card and a check in the mail each month. It wasn’t a bad deal. The choice is yours if you wanna welcome him back into your life…

Sampo Koski: it wasn’t hard to imagine just exactly WHY you’d break up with Sampo Koski. The man was shady, dangerous, and had a reputation. And you just wanted a bit of normal in your life. A bit of normal that Sampo couldn’t provide for you. So you split up. He’d smile it off in that charming way, but anyone who knew him before could tell the devilishly handsome businessman wasn’t quite the same as he once was. Cue you, years later, visiting Natasha’s clinic while your child played with the Moles. You were just trying to check in on an old friend, you weren’t expecting to run into your ex-boyfriend, who was making a medical supply delivery at the time. “Y/n?” The way his eyes lit up when he saw you…he nearly dropped the crate he was holding. You turn around and leave just as quickly. You hear him chasing after you after dumping the box on Natasha. “Y/n, babe, baby please, let’s talk about this!” you hear him say. You won’t look at him. Your arms are crossed and you’re focused on the children playing in the Underground town square. He follows your gaze and realizes which one you’re watching. There was one kid among them that he definitely didn’t recognize. With big, beautiful green eyes, eerily reminiscent of his. “Y/n…?!” he asks. “Look, I see you’re giving me the cold shoulder right now, and I get it, I deserve it, but is there something you need to tell me?” You sigh. “Yes. That’s your kid out there, Sampo…you got me pregnant, back before we broke up.” “You poor thing…” he says like he wants to wrap you up in a hug. Thankfully he’s smart enough to not make that move. “You should’ve told me…we could’ve figured something out, together…” “I didn’t want to figure something out with you.” “Now that’s just hurtful.” “It’s also the truth.” He hums. “I guess I should go introduce myself.” “Don’t you dare!” But he’s already off, humming on his merry way as he goes to speak to his kid, and is subsequently attacked by the hoard of children because of “stranger danger”. Ugh even after all these years he still managed to make you smile when you were upset at him with his antics. Oh…what were you going to do with that man…? He wanted you back so badly, and you wanted him back too but…he was Sampo Koski, and you just wanted a normal life…

Gepard Landau: You wanted to get married, but he was married to his work… He said he understood when you broke up with him, but deep down oh he wishes he had married you before it was too late. The next time he sees you is years later, while he’s on patrol. He happens to spot you at your favorite bookstore, and against his better judgment he decides he should go say hi. That’s when he spots him. A little boy standing next to you, looking bored to be stuck at a bookstore. And he was noticeably very blond, with beautiful, familiar blue eyes. Well the idea pops into his head immediately. He clears his throat as he approaches you to get your attention. “Gepard?” you say, but you shouldn’t be surprised to see the Captain of the Silvermane guard patrolling the city. “Hi,” he says, and his eyes are having a hard time focusing on you when his little boy is right there. “Maybe this is too forward, but is that child-?” “Yours? Yeah. Sweetie come over here please,” you call to the little boy. He puts the book down he was absently looking at, and wanders over, immediately in awe at the sight of Gepard with all his knightly gear on. “This is Captain Landau…” you introduce your son to his father with his formal title. Clearly you weren’t quite ready to just…let him back into your life, which he could understand. “Say hi…” “Hi Captain Landau…” the little boy stammers out, looking in awe upon Gepard in all his heroic glory. He looked so cool. Like a hero out of his comic books. “Hello…look, y/n…I think we need to talk…” You sigh. “I agree. Go find a book you like,” you tell your son to get him out of the way while you talk to your ex. “Y/n…why didn’t you tell me?” he asks once his kid is out of earshot. “I don’t know I just…thought it would be better to keep it to myself, considering we aren’t dating anymore…” “Y/n…I just met my child. My own son…I would’ve given anything to have known, you know that.” Yeah right, you think, but a part of you does believe he’s telling the truth. “I’m not going to beg for you to come back to me, but at least let me see my kid every once in a while…please?” You consider it. It couldn’t…hurt necessarily, and your kid clearly took a shine to him. You could only imagine how happy he’d be to learn that Captain Landau was his father…but still…Gepard…the man did break your heart… “I’ll think about it.” “That is all I ask. You know how to reach me.” You nod and watch him go, and your son runs up clutching a book about the heroic deeds of the Silvermane guards…

Jing Yuan: You broke up with him because you felt like he just wasn’t taking you seriously enough. Maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he was. Either way he accepts your decision with grace, and lets you know he’ll always welcome you back with open arms. Well. You don’t come back. You want nothing to do with the Dozing General and you intended for things to stay that way, until finally he gives and visits you at your old place. The door is answered by a little girl, with eyes shockingly similar to his. “What did I say about opening the door to strangers?” you sigh, coming up from behind her. You gasp, nearly scream when you see who’s at the door. Jing Yuan is fixated on the child. His eyes won’t leave her. He smiles, gives a friendly wave at her. “Y/n?” He asks. Despite everything, he seems almost happy. “We have a child?” “I have a child,” you correct, scooting your child back into the house and shutting the door after you’ve slipped outside to talk with him. “Regardless of how you feel about me, I truly believe I should be allowed to see my child. Y/n, I can’t believe you did not tell me,” the last part is spoken mostly to himself. “I’m sorry General,” you address him formally. You knew he was probably right. Jing Yuan was always right. It’s part of why you couldn’t stand him anymore. “I…I know. You do deserve to see your child, I just…I couldn’t handle you anymore…” “So you didn’t tell me?” he can’t stay mad for long though. Not when he sees your sad face. He understands. He wasn’t treating you the way you deserved and he could only respect that you were upset. “It’s…it’s alright, y/n…we can make this right. Please. Let me see my child…” You can’t argue with him. You open the door and lead him inside, calling to your daughter to let her know this man was no stranger and she was allowed to talk to him. He’s respectful of your time. He asks your daughter a few questions, asks you if he can tell her the truth yet, and when you say no he accepts it graciously enough, and says he will text you later to arrange his next meeting with his daughter. And then he leaves. And each subsequent visit you allow, he brings you flowers or other gifts, to let you know he still cares about you…

Luocha: Luocha was heartbroken when you told him you were breaking up with him. You didn’t give him a reason, you just said you couldn’t go on with him anymore. And then you just…disappeared from his life. You ignored his texts. And any attempts he made to contact you… Years later, you just happen to bump into him at a marketplace aboard the Luofu, holding the hand of a small, blonde boy, with beautiful green eyes. “Luocha…” you whisper, and try to turn away, but he reaches out and touches your hand. “Wait…please…is it really you, y/n?” You turn back around, feeling tears welling in your eyes. Your son notices the way your grip tightens around his little hand. “It is, Luocha…I’m so sorry…” It’s like he doesn’t even hear the apology. “Are you alright? Have you been safe?” he’s looking you up and down with concern, and finally his eyes settle on the little boy, gazing back at him wearily. Whoever he was, he was making you act really weird. “Oh…y/n…” “I’m sorry…you deserved to know. But I couldn’t bring myself to tell you…not after we broke up…” “I see…” he’s disappointed. You can tell. He would’ve liked to know you’ve been wandering around, with his own child in tow. “You know I would’ve taken care of you, right? We could’ve dealt with this together…” “I couldn’t have, Luocha. You know that. We weren’t…together.” “But we could’ve been. Y/n just tell me…tell me what I did wrong, I want us to be together, I’ll take you back, just talk to me,” he takes your free hand, holds it tight. “No…I can’t…” you don’t want to talk about it. You don’t want to be here, talking to him, but looking at him now he still looks like the man you fell in love with and it’s getting harder and harder to reject him. “I love you, Luocha, but I can’t be with you…” With that you pry your hand free of him and guide your child away from him. And when your little boy asks who you were just talking to, you respond with: “someone who was once very important to me.” He watches you go, his heart broken again…

Blade: Everyone knew you and Blade weren’t going to last. He’s too intense, too eager to die…not fit for human relationships. When you broke up with him, he hardly seemed affected, but the other Stellaron hunters agree that he throws himself into his ‘work’ a little more, fights with a little more ferocity, became even less merciful. You couldn’t bear to see him like this. So you left the Stellaron Hunters. Left him behind you, until a fateful encounter while he was on a mission, that led him to you. Elio wanted you back for one last mission. And he had sent Blade to bring you back, one way or another. He didn’t hesitate to come see you. You could never truly escape the Stellaron Hunters, they had been tracking your movements since you left. And now Blade was at your front door, his arms crossed, waiting for you to answer. “What’s going on?” is the first thing you say when you open the door. To be honest, your first reaction is to be relieved that he’s still alive. “Elio requires your presence,” and you can sense he’s not above using force to get you to come with him. “I can’t go back, Blade. I just can’t…” “Whyever not?” the threat doesn’t leave his voice. “Well…because-” “Who’s that?” he hears the sound of a little girl, and when he looks down, there she is, hiding behind your legs. Her hair is beautiful and dark, just like his. “Ah…I see…” is how he responds. You don’t know what’s going on in his mind, but it seems to be throwing even him off his balance. He doesn’t need to ask who’s child that is. The threat leaves his voice, but the tension doesn’t. “I will inform Elio of this development. Thank you for your time,” he adds on the last bit, to your surprise. “I may be back. Prepare yourself accordingly.” Either to fight him off, or fight beside him, you think to yourself grimly. Elio wasn’t one to let something so small as an accidental pregnancy interfere with his plans. Blade would probably be back, with the intent of dragging you back into the Stellaron Hunters for one last mission that apparently needed your talents. You don’t know why you call out to your ex-boyfriend. You just do. “Wait, Blade…would you like to come inside for a bit?” And to your surprise, he turns back to you and nods. And you invite the cold assassin inside to share some tea, and meet his daughter…

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celepom · 2 years

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SOME BOOK RECS FOR PRIDE THAT I HAVEN’T DONE REVIEWS FOR!

Taproot by Keezy Young

Blue is having a hard time moving on. He's in love with his best friend. He's also dead. Luckily, Hamal can see ghosts, leaving Blue free to haunt him to his heart's content. But something eerie is happening in town, leaving the local afterlife unsettled, and when Blue realizes Hamal's strange ability may be putting him in danger, Blue has to find a way to protect him, even if it means... leaving him.

The Deep & Dark Blue by Niki Smith

After a terrible political coup usurps their noble house, Hawke and Grayson flee to stay alive and assume new identities, Hanna and Grayce. Desperation and chance lead them to the Communion of Blue, an order of magical women who spin the threads of reality to their will. As the twins learn more about the Communion, and themselves, they begin to hatch a plan to avenge their family and retake their royal home. While Hawke wants to return to his old life, Grayce struggles to keep the threads of her new life from unraveling, and realizes she wants to stay in the one place that will allow her to finally live as a girl.

Life of Melody by Mari Costa

A human child abandoned in the woods is discovered by an unlikely pair: Razzmatazz, a fairy godfather, and Bon, a beast man. After quarreling over the best way to handle the child, they finally agree to co-parent in the human world--for now, at least. What the two men don''t expect is this little arrangement will push them to discover more about themselves...and more about each other, which might result in love. In this charming LGBT+ romcom, one "temporary" magical family might just become real!

Our Dining Table by Mita Ori

Eating around other people is a struggle for salaryman Yutaka, despite his talent for cooking. All that changes when he meets Minoru and Tane—two brothers, many years apart in age—who ask him to teach them how to make his delicious food! It’s not long before Yutaka finds himself falling hard for the meals they share together—and falling in love!

I Think Our Son is Gay by Okura

Despite belonging to a family of four, the Aoyama residence is typically home to three due to father Akiyoshi'’s job. While he''s away at work, mom Tomoko and her two beloved sons Hiroki and Yuri go about their everyday lives--going to school, making dinner, doing homework, etc. But now that Hiroki''s in his first year of high school, his thoughts are turning ever so slightly to sex and romance...and his mom can''t help but notice his slips of the tongue when he''s talking about who he likes. Supportive Tomoko has an inkling Hiroki might be gay, but she''s going to let him figure it out for himself. Unfortunately, Hiroki has little talent for keeping his "secret," so he might die of embarassment before all is said and done!

Gender Queer by Maia Kobabe

In 2014, Maia Kobabe, who uses e/em/eir pronouns, thought that a comic of reading statistics would be the last autobiographical comic e would ever write. At the time, it was the only thing e felt comfortable with strangers knowing about em. Now, Gender Queer is here. Maia’s intensely cathartic autobiography charts eir journey of self-identity, which includes the mortification and confusion of adolescent crushes, grappling with how to come out to family and society, bonding with friends over erotic gay fanfiction, and facing the trauma and fundamental violation of pap smears. Started as a way to explain to eir family what it means to be nonbinary and asexual, Gender Queer is more than a personal story: it is a useful and touching guide on gender identity—what it means and how to think about it—for advocates, friends, and humans everywhere.

Snapdragon by Kat Leyh

Snap's town had a witch. At least, that’s how the rumor goes. But in reality, Jacks is just a crocks-wearing, internet-savvy old lady who sells roadkill skeletons online—after doing a little ritual to put their spirits to rest. It’s creepy, sure, but Snap thinks it’s kind of cool, too. They make a deal: Jacks will teach Snap how to take care of the baby opossums that Snap rescued, and Snap will help Jacks with her work. But as Snap starts to get to know Jacks, she realizes that Jacks may in fact have real magic—and a connection with Snap’s family’s past.

The Witch Boy by Molly Ostertag

In thirteen-year-old Aster's family, all the girls are raised to be witches, while boys grow up to be shapeshifters. Anyone who dares cross those lines is exiled. Unfortunately for Aster, he still hasn't shifted . . . and he''s still fascinated by witchery, no matter how forbidden it might be.When a mysterious danger threatens the other boys, Aster knows he can help -- as a witch. It will take the encouragement of a new friend, the non-magical and non-conforming Charlie, to convince Aster to try practicing his skills. And it will require even more courage to save his family . . . and be truly himself.

DeadEndia by Hamish Steele

Barney and his best friend Norma are just trying to get by and keep their jobs, but working at the Dead End theme park also means battling demonic forces, time traveling wizards, and scariest of all--their love lives! Follow the lives of this diverse group of employees of a haunted house, which may or may not also serve as a portal to hell, in this hilarious and moving graphic novel, complete with talking pugs, vengeful ghosts and LBGTQIA love!

Cheer Up! Love and Pom Poms by Crytal Fraiser & Val Wise

Annie is a smart, antisocial lesbian starting her senior year of high school who’s under pressure to join the cheerleader squad to make friends and round out her college applications. Her former friend BeeBee is a people-pleaser—a trans girl who must keep her parents happy with her grades

#book rec #book recs #pride #gay #lesbian #transgender #nonbinary #gender queer #queer #graphic novel #manga #I have more that I want to give #proper reviews to #after rereading #But here's 10 very good queer books!

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softquietsteadylove · 1 year

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Thenamesh Ballerina/Boxer AU with Gil protecting Thena.

I love protective Gil so it would be really cool :)

"You sure you wanna do this?" Gil couldn't help but ask as they walked into the loud, crowded pub.

"Oh, come on," Thena smiled at him, pulling his hand to go find where Sersi and Ikaris were waiting for them. "I'm not so opposed to rambunctiousness. I do teach teenagers, if you recall."

"Oh, I recall," he chuckled. The teenagers were the class who loved to 'ooh' and 'aw' when Miss Thena's boyfriend came in to bring her coffee.

"Besides," Thena sighed, half for fun and half in genuine exasperation. "Sersi is quite taken with your old buddy, Ikaris."

"I don't know if I'd use the term 'buddy'."

"I want her to know that we can all spend time together."

Gil grinned, pulling Thena back to him by the hand and securing her there by wrapping his arm around her waist. He pressed his lips to her temple, "you're a good friend, Gorgeous."

Thena lavished in the small affection, even in the middle of the horrifically loud establishment.

"I do owe him a beer anyway," Gil added a little more sheepishly, "after last time."

"Last time?" Thena blinked.

"Well, the time before that," Gil shrugged, referring to a misunderstanding between them that had led to Gil pulverising Ikaris way too intensely for a practice match.

Thena blushed as Gil nipped at the shell of her ear.

"How could I forget last time?"

Thena squirmed in his embrace, pushing on his chest, "we're already late."

"Where the hell are these two?" Gil muttered, looking around the room. Even with its darkened corners, he assumed he would have seen them by now. "You see 'em?"

"No, I--hey!"

"Whoops, sorry 'bout--hello there," the offending stranger shifted from frustrated to smiling at Thena in the blink of an eye. He took her in, visibly, running his eyes over her and tipping up his hat. "Sorry, little lady, didn't mean to jostle you like that."

"It's fine."

"Let me get'cha a drink-"

"She said it's fine, man," Gil grumbled, pulling Thena closer to him again as the walking ball cap and blue jeans refused to stop dragging his eyes over her.

The man turned to Gil, as if noticing him for the first time. "Oh, sorry man, I didn't realise she was with you."

Thena had to wonder how he had missed her literally being held by Gil. But they were on their way again before she could ask. "Gil?"

"That's the other thing about dives like this," Gil muttered, keeping her close as he found them a standing table underneath a light. "The prettier you are, the more of an animal you'll attract."

"I'm not sure if that's so foreign a concept to me."

"Maybe not," Gil conceded, kissing her cheek gently as he parted from her reluctantly, "but the kind of animal might be. I'm gonna see if the bartender knows if they're here and where they might be."

Thena nodded, watching him go as she stayed standing at the table. She swayed absently to whatever tune was playing far too loudly through the speakers. She put her hands on the edge of the table, only to discover there was something on it. Whether it was water or something else she wiped her fingers off on her jeans--the only pair she owned, and wore specifically with this venue in mind.

Sersi got out more than she did. Sersi knew how not to stand out in a pub--a bar, rather. This was for Sersi--who deserved to be happy, even if Thena thought Ikaris was a bit of a meathead for her.

"Buy you a drink?"

Thena stared down at the table, wondering if refusing to engage them at all would be a better route.

"Buy you a drink?!!"

No, they just thought she couldn't hear them. She sighed, turning with a frown, "my boyfriend is at the bar now."

"Then he's not here."

"That wasn't an invitation," she scowled, as the man - and more than one behind him - shifted from their table to hers. She eyed them cautiously, "I'm not here alone."

"Really?--'cause," the front one ran his eyes over her, just like the one from the crowd, "you seem pretty lonesome."

Alone and lonesome did not mean the same thing.

"We can just keep you company," another one suggested, "'till your, uh, boyfriend?--comes back."

"I don't think you want to do that," Thena advised, not that the interloping animals deserved the courtesy of a warning. "He won't like arriving to a scene like this."

"What? We're just talking."

Thena shuffled back from the table, desperate for every centimetre of distance from them she could get. "A discussion to which I never agreed."

"Now what's a flower like you doin' in a place like this?"

"Yeah, you're far too sweet to be roamin' around alone."

"I bet your boyfriend's just some dickhead, anyway."

Thena glared at him.

"Dude, you made her mad," the others slapped his shoulder, laughing between themselves, although clearly her anger was the cause for their amusement. "She's cute when she's angry, though."

"Then you're gonna think I'm adorable."

Thena looked over their shoulders, although the one closest to the back was already getting flipped over Gil's shoulder. His shoes hit the ceiling light dangling above them with a loud clang. "I did tell you."

The one who called Gil a 'dickhead' was next. He tried to make his escape but Gil grabbed him by the wrist, giving it it a good twist until everyone around them could hear the pop! of it.

"Hey, man, we were just-"

"Harassing my girlfriend," Gil finished for the other two, cracking his knuckles loudly and giving his hands a shake, like he did when he was getting ready for the last round of a fight. "Yeah, I heard."

Everyone but Thena winced as Gil landed a punch to each of their faces that looked quite lethal in force. And certainly they went down like a sack of bricks, completely unconscious after a hit like that.

"What the hell's going on, here?!"

"Sorry, sorry," Gil apologised, holding up his hands as the bar staff came rushing over. "I'm going, I'm going."

Thena shuffled around the men on the ground, hopping over one of the bodies to trot out beside Gil. "Are you okay?"

Gil just shrugged, shaking out his fist again. Sure, he was used to gloves, but his knuckles had been conditioned long before now. "I'll be fine. Are you okay?"

Thena offered a shrug of her own as they headed back out into the night. "I've certainly heard worse."

"I'm sorry, Sweetheart," he offered sheepishly, taking her hand in his. "I didn't mean to leave you alone to them, or to get us kicked out like that."

Thena just shook her head, stepping in closer to kiss him again. "I'd hardly consider that your fault."

Gil returned the kiss gleefully. "And for the record, you are cute when you're mad, but only I get to say it."

"Gil," she scolded, slipping her hand under his sports coat to give his side a pinch.

"What?" he laughed, leaving his heavy arm around her delicate little shoulders. "It's super cute when your little goslings tease you for having a boyfriend and you get all flustered."

"Gil!"

"Oi," Ikaris blinked as he arrived with his own arm slung over Sersi's shoulders, "what're you doin' out here?"

"What are we doing?" Gil snorted at his old friend, "you're late even by your standard."

"Yeah, well," Ikaris shrugged. That was the end of his excuse, it seemed. He took another step, "shall we?"

"Uh, we can't go in there," Gil caught Ikaris by the shoulder and turned him around.

"Huh?"

Thena took Sersi's elbow and turned her as well, allowing them to link arms with the men on their outside shoulders. "Gil caved in a gentleman's nose, in there."

"Oh my," Sersi underreacted, perfectly able to imagine him doing so, apparently. "Well, there are other places to get a pint."

"Places that aren't crawling with assholes," Gil muttered, slipping off his jacket and putting it over Thena's shoulders.

Ikaris rushed to do the same for his own girlfriend.

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cozymochi · 2 years

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((you don't have to answer this publicly if you don't want)) Yeah, I think that makes sense. I commission a lot of artists when I can and I know interests and styles fluctuate a lot, on top of interest in doing fandom vs original work. I guess my question for you would be what are you more interested in (sorry to ask the question you didn't want 😅)

If we asked for more fandom stuff, would that make you happy just to be having something to do? If you took commissions, would you want to stick with fandom or original or a mix of both?

Like I said, I came for the IZ and stayed just because I think you're cool. I get really happy to see your icon on my dash, whatever it is. But I also understand burnout.

Whatever you choose I hope your day gets a little better, friend. Sending love and good vibes (and some tasty pollen and sweet flowers ☺️)

💜🐝

MMM TASTY [bites the flowers lovingly] 😳💕

For commission related stuff I don’t really mind what people ask in general. (Again, in general. There are moments- if rarely- where I’m not comfortable with something. Though I can never be sure what those parameters are until the situation arises in the moment) Most tend to go for fandom though, which isn’t a problem. In a way those are a lot more straightforward and simple (familiar fandoms are certainly easier, but im not a stranger to unfamiliar). As for original stuff, people can inquire about it, they just don’t, not usually. However, It’s not like those individuals really have a reference point for me should I actually take on something like that, mostly because I pretty much never post my non-fandom works (I have my reasons for it, but most of it is for protective stuff). So they’d have no idea what it’d even look like 😂 😂 jfhfhfg yknow?

AS FOR generalized content I make out of my own volition just to toss out there (which is what i’ve mostly been mulling over), I dunno. I just find a weird comfort in having slight awareness in what others look forward to seeing. I mostly get left in the dark on that sort of thing and have to leave it to chance, and I don’t really enjoy doing that all that much. (Im not asking for anyone to dEmANd things outta me or feel obligated to ask for anything, god forbid 😩 it’s more like… idk voicing what they do enjoy seeing every now and then) I like to keep that sort of thing in the back of my mind. IN A STRANGE WAY it does give me a push in that “oh well i guess making this isn’t totally meaningless after all” kind of way?? It just hits different.

Cuz let’s be real lol I’m not one of those people who have a HUGE unavoidable presence who could very well theoretically post anything, and for whatever reason it’ll skyrocket and in turn, will hear a lot frequently (you know the ones!! We’ve all seen those folk!! Homies probably follow em already) I’d consider myself uhh… moderate, I think, “presence” wise. Not that that’s bad. But, that’s an aside really lol

BUT BACK TO YOUR FIRST MAIN QUESTION!! I don’t mind either one, i’m not even all that burned out by anything in particular i’ve just been really muddy and confused about perceptions 😭 when lifes all weird and different, i think that headspace is just a byproduct of that.

STILL THANKS FOR THE SHOT TO TALK ABOUT THIS LOL if briefly. I kinda went on a stream of consciousness there jfhfgcv

#cozy ask #and that’s the tea #Also tea in that the only reason there’s been a slight uptake in dbz-ish content is because those are the ppl commissioning me #😭 it’s mostly circumstantial #I normally dont push commissions THAT hard but they’re semi my only income means at this moment #So im a bit more antsy.#However ppl have been pretty nice about that

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blindbeta · 3 years

Text

Blind/Visually Impaired Person’s Review Of ‘The Blind Bandit’

It is here! At almost 6 thousand words (I have a problem lol). This is a review of season 2, episode 6 in Avatar: the Last Airbender. The episode is called The Blind Bandit.

Note that this is only a review of the portrayal of blindness rather than the episode or show itself. This show also has audio descriptions on Netflix so any blind followers of mine can watch the show if the want to. I would also like to make it clear that this is my opinion. It is my no means lacking in bias and I won’t pretend that it is. I love this character for some of the reasons I will explain here, and that will show even as I consider criticisms of her or things that simply could have been better.

This character, Toph, was my first exposure to a blind character in television.

CHARACTER INTRO:

“Your champion, The Blind Bandit!”

We first hear Toph introduced as The Blind Bandit. She is described as having pale eyes which is usually how eye conditions are conveyed visually. Some online sources describe them as light grey or sea form green, but glazed over. This could be due to cataracts or some other deterioration. Part of me wants to mention that not all blind people have eyes like this. Most don’t; I don’t. However, blind people can have many eye problems outside of just The Blindness, so it isn’t inaccurate either, especially for a time period where eye surgeries are not available, and Waterbenders are not as easy to reach for healings as they may have been before the war. I also suspect her family would not care about cataracts if Toph was not in pain— their main issue would be her blindness. I’m getting ahead of myself.

The point is, I don’t mind the way her eyes are portrayed here. I do think non-blind people are too obsessed with portraying eyes like this, however, and I feel like it is not necessary in non-visual media unless you have established why their eyes are cloudy/lighter/Like That other than Because Blind. I’m happy they didn’t fall into the trap of portraying her eyes as constantly closed.

I also read somewhere that the creators tried not to move her eyes much. I don’t know how true this goal was, but I feel it is not entirely necessary. Blind people can also have uncontrollable eye movements or rapid eye movements. This might be too hard to animate and too confusing for viewers. Therefore, I feel the creators chose a more practical portrayal of eye movements that is the easiest to animate and least confusing for people who may not know blind eyes can and do move, whether due a condition or other factors.

“She can’t really be blind, can she?”

I like that everyone says “blind” without stumbling over it or treating it as a bad word. Katara is surprised and Aang is accepting, feeling hopeful that this girl could at last be his teacher. I even like that she chose to capitalize on it for her persona. Already we can tell Toph has no issue with being blind, nor does she feel the need to hide it in such a setting as this. She is already the champion— it must be working for her. It is this openness and acceptance of blindness that I like, especially from the main character. Rather than make her hide her blindness or angst over something she has lived with all her life, the writers just introduced it as fact. She’s blind and she’s a champion. That is how we meet Toph.

“Sounds to me like you’re scared, Boulder!”

Trash talk. She’s trash talking him. If the champion thing was not an indication that this wasn’t your stereotypical innocent, blind flower, her first line should be! Already Toph is brash and fearless. A far cry from the angelic stereotype we often get in the media.

“Your winner, and still the champion, The Blind Bandit!”

Toph kicks Boulder Butt. Pretty easily. I loved every second of it.

Now let’s talk about the Super Crip trope here.

IS TOPH A SUPERCRIP?

The Supercrip trope is a bit hard to pin down. I found a few definitions floating around. This link has two: Trope: SuperCrip | #CriticalAxis: a community driven project from The Disabled List

The Supercrip is seen as having “overcome” their disability in order to do normal things or even extraordinary things— with a focus on their disability rather than their accomplishments.

The first part is avoided. The narrative doesn’t focus on how extra special it is that Toph is doing things like: walking, talking, eating soup, sitting with her family, yelling at Aang and his friends, etc. Toph is not seen as extra special for doing normal things that her disability does not make more difficult. Not only would this be patronizing and ignorant, this would reflect that attitudes many real life strangers have: disabled people are so strange and mystical to some people that they feel the need to ask blind people on the street how they walk or talk.

Personally, I find this portrayal of disabled people to be the most harmful. It caters to able-bodied onlookers alone and offers nothing for disabled people. To clarify: the problem is not portraying disabled people/characters doing normal things! The problem is expecting your audience to feel inspired because a disabled person did a thing that is completely ordinary for them.

This does not apply to Toph.

Another definition is that a disabled person is portrayed as “overcoming” their disability in order to do something cool/big, usually something able-bodied people don’t do everyday. This disabled person is only noteworthy because they did something extraordinary such as win several gold medals. This presents two problems: 1) it is hard for disabled people to meet these expectations, especially when this is shown as the only positive way to live with a disability. And 2) able-bodied people see this and believe all disabled people must be winning gold medals or doing super extraordinary things because their disability somehow gives them privilege, pity-points, or superhuman powers that make up for their disability. An example of these powers would be the myth that blind people have superhuman hearing rather than simply using their hearing more than sighted people and thus being more attuned to sound. An example of pity-points would be the time my family was watching Dancing With the Stars featuring a blind contestant. After the dance, someone remarked that the contestant would probably get sympathy points and go on to the next round. Her talent was not a factor the same way it was for the able-bodied contestants; pity-points could not be separated from her success. It was impossible that she would be supported and judged the same way as the others, with her blindness being only an extra factor that might make copying a dance to learn it more challenging for her. Keep in mind, these ideas are so ingrained in people that my own family believed it in even when they know me and several of my blind friends.

Let’s consider Tooh:

Pity-Points? - Not even a factor. This was not brought up by Aang, nor Katara, nor Sokka. It was certainly not thought of by the owner of the battle ring nor Toph’s opponents. In fact, she was only doubted when she lost. Her talent was never viewed as the result of someone else’s pity or reduced to inspiration for an able-bodied wrestling audience. The announcer says her name and nothing else. Her parents don’t bring up the idea that Toph only wins because she was pitied either. They witnessed her bending and only believed they needed to protect her more, not that she was not talented.

Privilege? - It is no question that Tooh’s family is rich. It is hard to say how much that affects her here. She has a tutor who undermines her growth and is pretty much useless. She has protection she doesn’t want and riches she doesn’t seem to use. She does have more free time to battle as a result of her riches, not having to work at a young age (although her parents probably would not have let her even if they needed the money). Toph’s family status could have been seen as playing a role in her winning— if her parents allowed the world to know about her. - It is no secret that Toph is rich, however, when privilege is brought up by able-bodied people, they don’t usually mean riches (although the stereotypical rich disabled person is something I could discuss at a later time). They usually mean some combination of government benefits that may or may not exist and pity points. Disability makes things HARDER, not easier. A person can have multiple privileges they did not earn, or lack of privileges they did not ask for. Toph does not gain special privileges due to her disability, nor does she ask for or expect them. My opinion is that no one asks for this, anyway.

Super-human? - This one is a little trickier. It is the one people are obviously hung up on when they consider Toph. It is difficult to consider this without considering Toph’s entire arc. However, I have chosen to focus on her bending and “sight” and how it is used in this episode. I may talk about this more if I do other reviews. - First, bending. Toph is not the only bender in the series. She is also not the only good bender, as Katara is also someone who grows into her bending and becomes particularly powerful. Aang is already a master of airbending in addition to being the Avatar. He is special and particularly powerful, mastering water quickly. Azula is also said to be a prodigy and has mastered lightning at 14. The point is, Toph is a powerful bender. She is not the only powerful bender in the world. The Avatar needs someone to teach him and that person would, reasonably, have mastered their bending in order to teach the Avatar. - Now for Toph’s bending in relation to her blindness. It is true that Toph is powerful AND blind— is she powerful in spite of being blind? Is she powerful because her blindness gives her superpowers? This is tricky. To me, the narrative doesn’t go out of its way to say “she overcame her blindness and was able to win”. It also doesn’t show blindness as a superpower, such as causing superior hearing. - How is it portrayed then? First, Toph never has to “overcome” her blindness, which is important. The obstacle is the limitations placed on her. The obstacle is society, not her disability. Toph does not need to accept her blindness before doing anything, because she has been blind since birth. She does not have to overcome her blindness before fighting or becoming a champion because when we are introduced to her, she already was. She is not expected to overcome her disability in order to teach Aang; he tries to recruit her without seeing her disability as an issue. She does not need overcome her disability because it is not what stops her, as is the case for most people. There are some things being blind makes difficult, different, or impossible to do, but this isn’t one of them. Blind people can learn to fight. They can win. And when people reduce such accomplishments as “overcoming disability”, it can feel like a misdirection, like a dismissal of hard work and talent.

This does not happen with Toph.

Second, does Toph’s blindness give her superpowers? Maybe. I feel like it might be necessary to cover Toph in other episodes. However, this review is focusing mostly on The Blind Bandit and so I will focus on Toph’s unique “sight”. Toph’s bending is unique from others because she can feel the vibrations in the ground, allowing her to sense objects and people. This ability allows her to fight and beat others. In my opinion, this is more of an adaptation perfected through sheer amount of practice. Katara and Zuko don’t always bend. Toph is using her bending constantly. Of course she would be good at it. Her bending is a tool for her use. Fighting? That’s just a bonus, a hobby.

Toph also has weaknesses and is in fact beaten by Aang, who wasn’t even trying. Losing to someone who had no intention of winning is a pretty big deal.

Personally, I don’t think Toph is a supercrip in this episode. She is a Blind Seer, a trope popular in literature. The Blind Seer can’t see physically, but they can see in other ways you can’t. I don’t have an issue with this trope and think it can be used in cool ways, especially if the blind character isn’t the only one with a superpower.

I do, however, want people to question why a blind character always needs to have a power that relates to or makes up for their lack of sight in some way. Unless you are making a deliberate allusion to something or a blind is not the only one with sight-related powers, I ask writers to question why they jump to sight-related powers in the first place. Or powers related to hearing, something to “make up for” their lack of sight.

Can this be done well? Absolutely. Toph, while she can fall into both The Blind Seer and the Supercrip tropes for some people, she is beloved and interesting for many fans, blind or sighted.

I ask people to trace their logic about why they choose to give their blind character powers related to sight. What kind of power is it? Does it make up for (aka erase) their blindness and make them less relatable to blind readers/watchers? Are they the only blind character and/or the only person with such a power? Can they have another power? What works and does not work for good characters like Toph? Why?

Getting rid of these particular tropes are not the answer. I simply invite people to consider other options, try new things, think critically about why and what woks or doesn’t work in other characters.

I absolutely invite blind writers to use whatever tropes they want, as they can probably write it in a more nuanced way.

My personal opinion about the Supercrip trope is that it is somehow focused on success or talent as the enemy without recognizing what it means. Wanting to succeed is not wrong. Being competitive is refreshing!

It isn’t really about doing super things or not— it is about disabled people being made to feel like they will not be successful, accepted, or taken seriously if they do not win everything or succeed at impossible feats. Able-bodied people are permitted to exist without needing to prove anything. Disabled people are not afforded that respect.

Either disabled people fight against the ingrained expectation that they simply cannot do anything, that will FAIL, because of their disability, or they fight against the realization that, for many people, even impossible feats will never be enough. Their accomplishments will never be seen as just that— accomplishments.

Blind characters should be talented or hard-working, prodigies or people who claw their way to the top. Their disability may be an obstacle and it may, in fact, barely even be necessary to mention aside from adaptive tools. The Supercrip is so alluring because people are under the impression blind people— and disabled people as a whole— cannot do anything. To the point that some condescendingly assume certain things are impossible because they did not think of adaptive techniques or technology. This is why research is important.

Remember why this trope/stereotype exists: for the inspiration of able-bodied people who are uninterested in making changes in society’s attitudes and the amount of accessibility it provides. Problematic tropes like this usually have a specific issue behind them and you cannot tackle or discuss r subvert the trope until you understand the harmful reason it exists.

Not everyone agrees with me. Here are some reading materials:

On the pervasive Supercrip trope in martial arts:

http://feministing.com/2010/02/19/media-portrayal-of-disability-and-martial-arts-a-personal-statement/

On the pressure this trope puts on blind people:

Challenging the ‘Supercrip’ Stereotype of People With Disabilities | The Mighty

[In the comments, I would prefer people not speculate about Toph being a Supercrip or not if they aren’t blind themselves. It would be more helpful to focus on other aspects of this review or share posts by other blind people instead.]

Keep in mind, this is only a review of one episode. And I personally will take a powerful disabled character over a powerless, sad one anytime.

This concludes our commercial break. Back to the show.

BEING BLIND IN EARTH KINGDOM SOCIETY

Earth Kingdom Boy 1: “Well, a flying boar is the symbol of the Beifong family. They’re the richest people in town. Probably whole world.” Earth Kingdom Boy 2: “Yeah, but they don’t have a daughter.”

Now this is interesting. It implies that Toph is: a) hiding herself well so as to keep up her double life and/or b) being hidden by her family. I suspect it is a little of both. A) is pretty obvious, especially with the wall surrounding their estate, while b) could be due to overprotectiveness or shame on the part of her parents. Shame may seem harsh. However, this is not exactly a modern time period and respect for disabled people can vary depending on culture, time, place, and individual attitudes.

When portraying poor social attitudes toward disabled characters, writers must work hard to show the attitudes as wrong and work to reduce them. I do feel that, like with gender discrimination, people tend to preemptively assume accepting disability is modern and Western concept- and that any ableism is fair game because it is realistic. That is far from the truth, especially if they get it wrong.

Too much and it could be mistaken for an excuse to be ableist. Too little and it may seem like erasure of societal barriers faced by blind people.

Let’s see how the ATLA writers handle this.

TOPH’S “SIGHT” AND MISSED OPPORTUNITIES

Anyway, the Gaang finds Toph again. Toph: “What are doing here, Twinkle Toes?” Aang: “How did you know it was me?”

Two things stick out here. I love that The Gaang interacts with her normally and this episode is not about the able-bodied characters learning how to treat a disabled person like a person, nor is it about them confronting their biases. Instead, they have a favor to ask, one that Toph cannot grant. The episode shifts focus onto Toph and her emotions and needs.

I also liked that Aang asks how she knew it was him. This is a common question and it seems to be asked in curiosity rather than implied judgment or suspicion on Aang’s part, as is often the case nowadays. Later in the episode, Toph explains how she knew, but she could also have recognized his footsteps (light as they are) with or without her bending. Blind people are also usually more reliant on hearing or smell and so may pick up on scents or sounds others do not. That is not to say their hearing or smell are superior (see the Supercrip discussion), but that they are used more often. This is how I conceptualize Toph’s bending— it is something she uses all day, every day. Like her hearing and smell and touch, she is more reliant on these senses and so uses them in ways others don’t.

I do wish we had a few more examples of this in the episode/show rather than Toph using her bending for every situation. As I said, I do not mind that she can “see” with bending as it is not true sight, but showing how she uses other senses would have been nice details.

TOPH’S PARENTS HAVE ENTERED THE RING

Toph: “I thought I heard something! I got scared.” Guard: “You know your father doesn’t want you wandering the grounds without supervision, Toph.”

With this, we can understand her father is overprotective, so much so that Toph is able to believably pull off this act of helplessness in front of the guards. Her father does not believe even walking around her own home is safe for her.

With that in mind, it is NOT a plot hole that she can walk around her home in front of her parents. Even overprotected blind kids don’t use canes or need a guide within their own homes as they often memorize the layout. Canes are not usually used inside ones own home or very familiar areas. Outside areas might be an exception as they are likely to change due to nature or redesign, but generally familiar, casual areas do not warrant canes or guides. It is completely believable that Toph can walk around in her own home without causing suspicion.

Toph’s father, indicating soup placed in front of her: “Blow on it. It’s too hot for her.”

Not only is her father overprotective, he is infantilizing. He thinks she can’t blow on her own soup and must be confined to basic stances of bending, something Toph is clearly unhappy with. Toph’s parents are the kind of people who wouldn’t let her watch TV lol!

Toph’s father: “And sadly, because of her blindness, I don’t think she will ever become a true master.”

There it is. There are many people in the world who have this mindset, believing disabled people succeeding is unrealistic, or only achieved by pity-driven intervention from others for inspirational purposes or a lie told by overly soft parenting. Toph’s father may seem radical, but his views are very common even for those close to a blind person. Even for those who might like the inspirational stories about blind people doing things.

HOW TOPH SEES THE WORLD

Toph: “It’s kind of like seeing with my feet.”

This is where I disagree with some interpretations of Toph. She can sense where things are and what they are. She has a wider range than someone with a cane would. However, I don’t know if this is quite erasing her blindness. Could they have done better? Yes. However, to claim the show made her sighted with magic is not quite fitting to me. Toph is not seeing with a magical potion, nor did Katara heal her blindness. She is using a power a lot of people in the ATLA universe have in bending, one she has used her entire life and perfected through sheer number of practice hours. I think it helps that she did not get this power, narratively, because she was blind. Rather she is a blind person who adapted a skill to her use.

A cane or an animal guide might have helped make the narrative more relatable for blind people, however. They could have also played up being unable to see people’s facial expressions. In other episodes, they show areas where she is unable to bend, such as on ice, sand, or floating objects like the warship or Appa.

In these instances, they could have shown sighted guide.

However, I think what they did worked. Would I suggest anyone else try it? Maybe not. It depends on their motivation for doing it. Toph’s powers basically act as a cane or Sunnu band would. They aren’t a magic spell letting her see all the time.

They could have done a little better— I still think it worked. It does not seem to have unfortunate implications of sight being better than blindness or blindness needing special cures.

For writing purposes, it is important to understand why this worked, how it was portrayed, factor in that bending is not unique to Toph, understand the nature of her ‘sight’, and understand what they could have done better. Just because it works here doesn’t mean it will work everywhere. It is important for writers to understand that and question their motivation for giving their character a different kind of vision.

THE DISABILITY EPISODE - AVOIDED

Toph’s father: “My daughter is blind. She is blind and tiny and helpless and fragile. She cannot help you.” Toph: “Yes. I can.”

Some may feel uncomfortable that Toph’s first episode is about her parents doubting her, dealing with ableism and being forced into stereotypes by her own family. It is important to remember that this is a show for children and any blind children watching it will have dealt with similar issues from adults in their lives. The show doesn’t seem to say this is the only narrative a blind character can have, but rather that it is a relatable occurrence for blind children who are watching it.

Toph also has many episodes left — this is only the beginning. This is hardly her only arc, and even her personality and abilities challenge so many stereotypes.

In most shows, the blind character gets one episode. Toph, however, is a main character.

Toph is also a well-rounded and interesting character with agency. She hardly seems like an inspirational puppet for adults.if this show had been written for adults or if Toph had been focusing on wanting to become a champion “despite her blindness”, I might have felt upset. It goes to show how important nuance is when writing disabled characters and how powerful it can be to make an effort to challenge stereotypes.

This is not how we first see Toph— helpless, unproductive. Instead, we FIRST see her out in the world kicking butt with her bending skill and I think that it is important.

NOT SO HELPLESS AFTER ALL

Toph’s father uses these words to describe her: Tiny, helpless, fragile. Unable to help others. Unexpected to become a true master or even advance beyond breathing techniques.

Toph challenges all of these at some point. She helps Aang defeat the bad guys. She faces many people in battle and wins, remaining an undefeated champion until Aang accidentally beats her. She advances far beyond basic bending techniques. Toph is good at very active things, with bending as a martial art and as a sport here. It is refreshing to see blind characters being so active and a stark contrast to the passive image her father has of his blind daughter. She does things for herself, including developing her bending style without the help of a master who limits her- and she hides her double life well. Toph’s ability and personality also challenge notions of fragility: she is boisterous and fearless, stubborn and even a bit rude. She mostly says what she wants to and fiercely hides what she doesn’t want to, even when pressured. She yielded only to her parents, which is tied up in love, respect, fear that they will no longer love her, possible aversion to change in some aspects of her life, and cultural expectations. For disabled children, it is often hard to go against your parents because the world teaches you that the world will never accept you or allow you to live in it. Your family is all you have.

Toph IS tiny, although that is due to genetics, environmental factors, and her age. However, her stature is used to prove the other qualities assigned to her when in reality her height has nothing to do with anything her family believes about her.

When the fighting starts, Toph creates a cloud of dust which effectively blinds her opponents. I thought it was a nice, ironic touch. The point is not just that her opponents now cannot see; Toph is already used to fighting under these conditions. She didn’t level the playing field. She is already better than them, already used to working without sight, and so the advantage is hers.

ABLEISM IN ACTION

Later, Toph confronts her parents:

Toph’s father: “You will be cared for and guarded 24/7.” Toph’s mother: “We are doing this for your own good, Toph.”

Unfortunately, this kind of infantilization is not uncommon. They saw her as she truly was and were still unable to let go of their ideas of their blind daughter. At this point, Toph is more trapped than ever despite opening up. The first time, it was surprising to see them not change their minds, given the happy endings we are used to in children’s shows. However, what happens is more relatable to blind kids with overprotective or controlling parents.

Of course, Toph makes the choice to leave them, showing more agency than most blind characters get, with or without controlling parents.

OVERALL

Overall: I loved this episode. It was a nice introduction to a character that both challenged expectations and dealt with obstacles relatable to blind fans. Toph’s struggles with her parents and the weight of stereotypes could have been cheap inspiration porn, but the way it was handled and the target audience of children rather than adults changes things immensely. This episode goes out of its way to challenge many stereotypes viewers may hold about blind people in ways that are fun and exciting. Toph’s personality is refreshing even over a decade later. While her bending as ‘sight’ may be disliked by some, it feels more like something with missed opportunities (the use of a cane or sighted guide), although I thought this episode did it well. Toph is not given special powers so that she can see—she adapts an ability for her own use.

Toph is a martial artist, encouraging children to try something similar if they are interested. She challenges her own parents, which may be very relatable to blind fans.

Unlike most children’s shows of the time (and even now), Toph does not feel like a vessel for able-bodied viewers to learn about blindness.

ACCESSIBILITY:

However, it is important to remember that at the time ATLA aired, there was no Netflix with audio descriptions. Descriptions were infrequent at the time and are still spotty on cable TV. The ATLA DVD did not have audio descriptions either, which is the case with all DVDs I have come across. Netflix also took an embarrassingly long time to add audio descriptions to a show with a blind character.

Consider that Toph was nearly inaccessible to blind children at the time — until 2020, well after other sighted children could enjoy it fully. Blind children could not watch a show about them with the same ease that a sighted child could. Think about that.

Is the show to blame for this? I don’t know. Usually the broadcasting service handles descriptions. I have yet to come across a DVD with descriptions. However, I wonder why it took this long. Did the staff consider a blind audience at all? Could they have pushed for descriptions to be added to the DVD?

And what about fans? Did fans consider that the character who challenged stereotypes for them might not be as accessible to blind people themselves? While they scrabbled about whether the characters were ableist, did they bother to consider Netflix’s lack of audio descriptions? Do they remember to add image descriptions to GIFs, pictures, or video clips in the years ATLA was popular online? Did any of this occur to anyone BUT the blind community?

Doesn’t seem like it.

TOPH AND THINGS I WOULD LIKE TO SEE MORE OF/LESS OF IN BLIND CHARACTERS

I made a post about things I would like to see more/less of in blind characters. You can read it here:

https://blindbeta.tumblr.com/post/637419979125489664/things-i-want-to-see-more-ofless-of-in-blind

Here’s how Toph compares to that!

More of: -Blind main character ✔️ -Blind character of color ✔️ -Active (sports/martial arts) and competitive ✔️ -Acknowledgment of difficulties faced in society ✔️

How They Avoided Things I Wanted Less Of: -Being portrayed as sad or broken because of blindness - Avoided - Toph owns her blindness by giving herself the same The Blind Bandit. The only time she is sad is when facing ableism from her parents.

-Being innocent, helpless, and unrealistically kind or selfless - Toph proves she is not helpless, even directly challenging it in the narrative. - Toph is also not unrealistically kind or selfless, not only insulting other characters- but refusing to help Aang when he needs it because it would change things between her and her parents. She also challenges her parents in the end, putting her desires before their feelings toward their perceptions of her. When she follows Aang, she doesn’t do so only to help him. She has her own want to travel and gain independence. - As for innocence, Toph IS 12, although she is far from naive. She is able to fool her own parents into thinking she is who they want her to be.

-Being portrayed as ungrateful or rude in general - Toph’s rudeness comes from a non-ableist place—herself. She is not rude due to anger about being blind nor rude due to entitlement. She doesn’t accept she doesn’t need and is not demonized for this, even when going against her own parents. Toph’s rudeness is in her personality, making it subversive in avoiding the idea blind people must accept all help and be grateful for it. The narrative does NOT expect Toph to go along with the ‘help’ of her parents or even Aang. She refuses this help until she is ready and willing to receive it.

-Going blind due to accidents or trauma - Toph was born blind

I WOULD HAVE WANTED TO SEE: -more adaptive technology/skills in addition to her bending -how she utilizes her other senses -another blind, minor character somewhere in the show (doesn’t apply to this episode, but still)

Toph is, in the end, a token blind character. It works better because she is a MAIN character, which is still not a common occurrence in modern media at all. Toph works because she does not have any stereotypical traits about her personality, which means the sighted audience does not have to rely on another character to broaden their perspective. However, it is still important to include more than one blind character in your stories. For ATLA, 1 or 2 minor blind characters may have helped, or maybe an additional secondary or even main character with low vision.

Toph has a well-rounded personality, which also means the “token” is not completely applicable to her. Toph is a great character. It would have been nice if she were not the only blind character. In fact, I cannot think of any show that has more than one blind character, as if it is a character quirk that cannot be done more than once.

RANDOM IMAGINES TIME

Now I’m imagining a Zuko whose eyesight was affected by the burn or a Zuko whose father decided he didn’t need that side of face anyway if he could not see out of it. Or an Azula who is blind and still better than Zuko -sticks out tongue-! Or perhaps Sokka or Ty Lee contrasting Toph’s personality and bringing to the table a struggle with a lack of depth perception while hunting or performing in the circus, respectively.

The point is, you don’t have to overload your story with blind characters unless you are setting it at a school or event for the blind. Instead, consider who is blind in your story and who else possibly could be. Consider why you only have one blind character and why.

That about wraps up all my thoughts on Toph. In short, I love her. There are things they could have done better or additions they could have made to improve the episode and Toph’s character as a whole, but she is still one of the most beloved and recognizable blind characters ever. I think that says something about the impression she left on people.

If only she would have been accessible to more blind children from the start.

I hope this review was helpful! If you need help writing blind characters I provide sensitivity reading in exchange for donations. My inbox is also open for questions.

#avatar the last airbender #toph #toph beifong #writing blind characters #blind #blindbeta

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Note

Mr. Petrus is somewhere in public when a meek stranger approaches him on the street. They immediately recognized him as a Handler—formerly theirs. They appear alone, and half a second from falling to their knees should he so much as look at them a certain way. They try to tell him something but the words catch in their throat and only a quiet noise slips free. How does he react this unexpected interaction?

CW: Pet whump, whumper POV, creepy/intimate whumper, escaped whumpee returns to whumper, dehumanization, collared, implied dubcon/noncon at end, dubcon touch, dubcon kiss

He isn’t usually the type to go out to bars - Luke’s a workaholic on a good week, content to all but live in his Facility sleeping quarters, leaving for supplies or to spend a day out in the sun and then coming right back.

When you love what you do, as they say, you’ll never work a day in your life.

Still, Renford's essentially mandated he take a damn vacation for once. He’s left behind his trainees and headed out to enjoy himself at a bar he used to frequent, back before he found he preferred to frequent the cells the frightened young men are held in, waiting for the slightest touch to remind them they exist.

Luke sits back on a barstool with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Oh, he’s not supposed to smoke, but this bar doesn’t push the issue and he’s not the only one filling the air with the familiar, acrid scent.

Out on the floor, people dance together, barely lit by dim lights changing color every so often, Red, blue, and green move over sweaty skin, curves and straight lines. Luke enjoys it all. He quirks a smile. He can see, just looking, who here would look fucking gorgeous with a collar buckled around their neck and a little more emptiness inside.

Get ‘em so empty they need someone to fill it up.

Luke’s probably ten years older than the oldest of the people on the dance floor, but that doesn’t bother him. Plenty of people like an older man, and those who don’t… well, if he gets them on the wrong end of his baton, they don’t really get to choose what they like or don’t, now do they?

The beat is a deafening rumble that rolls against his skin in rhythm and Luke hums contentedly. His beer is cool and rolls with citrus sourness along his tongue and down his throat, slightly fizzy compared to the darker stuff. Bright enough to flirt with tasting like cider, or nearly so.

Some local craft brewery shit, probably. In his Facility studio, Luke just keeps some basic Coors. No need to get fancy at home, after all.

Does he even have beer in his actual home? It’s been so long since he’s been there…

Something touches his arm, pulls just slightly at his sleeve, and Luke turns, head tipping to the side, a grin already on his lips.

There’s a lithe, beautiful young man there, with hair dyed a brilliant, ridiculously bright purple, eyes ringed in eyeliner. He has a lip ring, Luke notes, his tongue moving out to run over his own lower lip in thought.

There’s something familiar about the young man, although Luke can’t quite place him. Not exactly.

But the shiver of trepidation mixed with a desperation to have eyes - and more than eyes - on him… Luke knows that well enough. It tells him what he wants to know. His smile widens, just a little. “Evening, pretty boy.”

The young man looks up at him, his hand still hovering just over Luke’s bicep, and his mouth opens like he’ll reply. All that comes out is a soft sound that Luke only hears because a new song has started, slightly off-key piano playing over a heavily-synthesized voice and the slow introduction of a beat.

“What?” Luke’s eyebrows raise. “Use your words.”

The young man takes a step closer, and then another. He’s moving like a newborn fawn, on suddenly-awkward legs like he might fall to his knees at any moment. Luke was watching the dancers before, but now his gaze is wholly caught by the absolute goddamn sexiness of a runaway pet who can’t stop himself from walking back into a cage.

“H-Handler Petrus,” The runaway says, and when Luke’s hand moves to cup his face, the young man tips his head immediately into it. His eyes are watering, wet with tears that haven’t yet fallen. As soon as one slips out, Luke leans slowly forward and licks up the side of his face. The runaway whimpers at the wet heat of his tongue, the casual ownership of the action.

“That’s me,” He murmurs into the young man’s ear. “You know it. Why aren’t you running from me?”

The young man swallows, hard, and turns his head, pressing his own lips in a shivering, fearful brush against Luke’s cheek. “I-I’m hungry,” He says, voice almost too low to pick up. “And… and I don’t-... I don’t w-want-...” His voice trails off, and Luke’s smile only widens as the runaway leans forward and rests his forehead against Luke’s shoulder.

He sighs, setting his beer down half-drunk and turning to run his condensation-cold fingers through that garishly bright purple hair. “You ran away, huh?”

He already knows the answer.

The runaway pet nods without speaking.

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be, is it?” Luke slides off his barstool, shifting to slide an arm around the runaway’s shoulders. He slaps a ten-dollar bill on the bar and walks away, heading for the door, the beat of a song bouncing off his skin right up until they step outside. It’s chilly out here, with a stiff breeze blowing the scent of saltwater through the air around them. It feels a little like walking through the surf, down here at the old warehouse district.

“No. I’m… hungry all the time, I still have to fuck for a place to sleep, people are… mean sometimes, I don’t know. I don’t know what to do, where to go.”

Fuck. He has to make sure the lib people don’t get ahold of this little beauty. He’s exactly what they’re looking to save.

“What’s your number?” He asks, casual as can be. The runaway isn’t wearing long-sleeves or a bracelet, he’s scarred on the inside of his left wrist when Luke takes a peek. Looks like he cut the tattoo off of himself, or had someone else do it, once upon a time.

“654338,” The pet says automatically, without hesitation. “Designation Romantic, Facility 001-”

“Yeah, I got that part.” Luke cuts him off and the pet falls back into silence. “Why’d you run away?” With his blue eyes as cold as ever, Luke lights another cigarette, takes a deep, deep drag, exhales smoke into the air in front of them as they move. The runaway coughs into one hand.

“I just… didn’t want to, anymore. With my owner.”

“You should know that what you want doesn’t fucking matter,” Luke says amiably, but the runaway winces and hunches into himself. Luke watches from the corner of his eye, his own mouth watering at the sight of the pet’s shame, his nervousness. “You don’t exist to get what you want. So why come up to me?”

“I thought maybe-... maybe you could help me.”

“Get back to your owner?”

The pet turns to look up at him, with gorgeous warm brown eyes full of pleading. “No, Handler Petrus. Please, please no. Just… just, to someone else, please, someone who won’t-... hurt me so badly. Please. Please.”

“It’s my job to get any runaway I see back to the Facility, gorgeous thing. Then back home."

“No. No, don’t take me back there! Please, I can’t-... I can’t do the lights again, please. I can't take how he h-hurts when, when he-"

"Yeah, yeah." Luke rolls his eyes. "Wimp."

The pet's eyes close against more tears.

Luke snorts at the sight. Pathetic. “We have pretty strict contracts that ensure runaways go right back to their rightful owners.”

“No, please, just-... can you help me another way?” The runaway goes up on his toes, presses his lips to Luke’s chin, against the corner of his mouth. Those pretty hands move to slide up under Luke’s shirt, cold fingers against his warm stomach. They tease moving downward. There’s a distance in the pet’s eyes, now, separating himself from what he’s doing to earn what he’s desperate for.

Luke considers. Then he has an idea, and he sighs, as if he's won over.

“Tell you what.” He rubs a thumb over the runaway’s lower lip, toys with his lip ring. The pet opens his mouth to show the silver stud on his tongue. Luke’s smile goes slightly cock-eyed, a jolt of heat straight to the pit of his stomach, spreading from there. “I’ve got a friend who might be able to keep you. I’m not going to just hand over anyone, though.”

The pet takes Luke’s thumb into his mouth, sucks lightly, rolling the tongue piercing against the underside in an unspoken promise. He pulls back just to ask, “What do I need to do?”

“I have an apartment, a week’s worth of vacation scheduled, and you can show me just how good you are at earning your keep.”

The runaway swallows with an audible click in his throat, then nods. “I-I can do that.”

“I know you can, baby. I’m the one who trained you. Now, let’s go find out how good you are with that tongue ring.”

Luke leads the pet away, towards his car, smiling contentedly into the night. He can enjoy a week of desperate eagerness, then drug the fuck out of the pretty thing, buckle a collar right back around his neck, and throw him into a cell at WRU to be wiped and put back where he belongs.

Once he’s on the Drip for a couple of days, he won’t even know Luke broke a promise.

He’ll be the same puppy-eager for Luke’s hands and mouth and anything else he wants to give him that he is right now. Plus, Luke’ll get a nice little bonus for turning in a runaway.

This is shaping up to be an excellent vacation.

#luke petrus is a piece of garbage #whump #bbu #box boy universe #box boy #implied dubcon #dubcon touching #dubcon kissing #dubcon kiss #escaped whumpee #referenced starvation #referenced drugging #pet whump #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #luke is such a fucking asshole #the red letter anon

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kittymsmithwritesstuff · 3 years

Text

The Legends React To: Being Handed a Baby

This involves some Pathfinder Book Lore, but its pretty minor.

Bloodhound: Was handed a baby by an overexcited fan at an event. The baby cried at their mask but started to calm down when they began speaking softly; Bloodhound figured it was because the baby recognized their voice from HoloTV. They’re secretly fond of babies and little children, so they might take a little longer to give the child back to its parent than expected, and they might have spent the rest of the event musing, a little sadly, whether or not they and Boone would have ended up with a child.

Gibraltar: Dude loves kids, though he prefers it when they can start running and playing versus when they’re tiny and breakable. Still, babies are cute, and every time he gets handed one at an event, whether it be family or Apex related, he’s ready to be the cool uncle.

Lifeline: Some Apex Exec wanted a picture of the great Lifeline holding his baby for internet points and so just sort of shoved it in her arms. She doesn’t really know what to do with babies. In theory she knows how to keep one alive, but in practice she’s not really run into many in warzones so she just kind of holds it by the torso before eventually moving it to her hip and asking how it’s day has been. Strangely, babies adore her.

Pathfinder: Immediately tries to ask the baby about its hobbies before it starts bawling because it’s being held by some weird metal hands with rubber finger pads and it feels weird. He might love the miniature friends, but they do not love him.

Wraith: She gets roped in to helping Wattson babysit for some Apex Games higher-up and was handed the baby-baby immediately upon arriving so Wattson could chase after the toddler. In short, she finds babies fascinating, with their weird little fingers and huge eyes. She likes talking to them and seeing their reactions, and wonders frequently if she might have had a kid or something before. She acts uninterested because she finds it a little embarrassing to actually like babies, but she never has objected to helping Wattson babysit.

Bangalore: She might have been the baby of her family, but the Williamses is a huge clan and she had tons of little cousins forced into her arms over the years, to the point she still isn’t even surprised if one is handed off to her, and hasn’t questioned it the few times it has happened at events. Like Gibraltar, she prefers it when the kids are old enough to cause a little trouble. Her favorite game to play with babies is peekaboo and she finds the faces they make when she blows a raspberry at them hilarious. She will take these facts to her grave.

Caustic: He holds enough sympathy to find somebody else more capable to hold it, or a decently supportive armchair to leave it in, maybe tape something shiny to the forehead to make sure no one sits on it. But this would only be applicable if anyone actually handed him a baby.

Mirage: Kids! Kids are cool, was a camp counselor that one summer. It was to pick up chicks (and maybe that one guy was kind of cute but he was still questioning that one) but kids were also super fun. Babies? Babies were confusing, babies cry. He’s the baby brother, but unlike Bangalore he didn’t have a bunch of little cousins, he just had himself, so tiny wiggly humans kind of leave him at a loss. He desperately wants a couple of his own one day, though, so he’s taking the numerous occasions fans hand him babies (and try to get him to sign them(he does not)) as a learning opportunity. Many funny faces are made. Many tiny humans have cried. His faces have gotten better since Wraith started bringing him along on her babysitting…missions? Assignments? Either way, there’s a lot less crying babies at events now.

Octane: He actually knows how to hold one because of those health classes in school that his dad and Lifeline forced him to actually go to. If someone just hands him a baby for whatever reason, he’s actually pretty chill about it and definitely doesn’t miss out on the selfie opportunity. It isn’t advisable to leave him alone, though, cause the baby’s first word is liable to be a curse word, and probably in Spanish.

Wattson: She’s always happy to see a new little face! But only one or two at a time. Beyond that babies can get overwhelming, especially if they start crying. It actually isn’t that uncommon for Wattson to just be handed a baby since she grew up with a lot of the executives and staff around the Games and, particularly after her Papa passed, took to babysitting a lot of their kids to avoid being alone. She’s thought a lot of having her own little family, like her and her Papa, except it would be nice to have someone to raise a baby with.

Crypto: Mystik did adopt him and his sister, but that didn’t mean they were exempt from helping in the orphanage. Dude knows how to change, feed, soothe, entertain, and understand babies better than a lot of parents. He doesn’t get handed babies anymore because he keeps his hands firmly in his pockets or otherwise occupied, but on the rare occasions he visits home, he inevitably has an infant cooing in his lap. He’s often thought that the first thing he wants to do whenever he can finally go back to a normal life is find someone, settle down, and adopt a couple kids.

Revenant: Ever wondered what it would sound like if a baby was slam dunked through a basketball hoop? You’ll find out if you give him a baby.

Loba: Imagine the face a cat makes after licking a lemon, and that’s about Loba’s reaction to being handed an infant. She has no idea how to hold one or what to do with it, and she’s not particularly motivated to learn. She doesn’t hate them or anything, she’ll smile and wave at them in the grocery store and is about as happy as anybody else is when you get a random baby to smile at you, but there’s too many potential tragedies associated with the things for her taste. Also, the poop.

Rampart: Will flat out ask someone why the hell they just handed her a baby. Basically a more responsible Octane, except the kid is gonna come back cussing in Hindi. Babysat for money until she was 13 and figured out giant guns were a lot more lucrative and involved a lot less spit-up.

Horizon: She’s always overjoyed! She adores babies, and babies adore her. She is the only Legend to have asked someone if she could hold their baby. She has also been known to wander off with stranger’s children because she just gets so distracted interacting with them at both scientific and Apex oriented events, but it only caused a little scene once and after that it became, “where’s your kid?” “Horizon’s got ‘em” “Oh cool.” It helps to fill the Newton shaped void in her heart a little better than the vacuum.

Fuse: Got handed a kid a couple times on Salvo, being the cool uncle to Maggie’s nieces and nephews. Though he’s the ideal uncle for 8-12 year olds, he’s cool with babies, makes funny faces, pretends to hold a long-winded conversation for the baby’s amusement and his. Maggie always made fun of him for it in a friendly way, it’s one of the things he misses. Nobody’s handed him a baby since he left Salvo though. He’s kinda disappointed sometimes.

Valkyrie: Doesn’t really “do” babies; it’s something her and Loba agree on, though Valkyrie looks less like she licked a lemon and more like a pianist who’s been handed a cello and told to play Fur Elise; she just flat out doesn’t know what to do with them and does not care. Her mom tried to get her to babysit growing up, but she always had the tendency to vanish when the idea of responsibility reared its ugly head. If handed a baby, she will hand it to the next nearest Legend and immediately vacate the premises.

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gatorprompts · 3 years

Text

𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 .

from the 2021 album by lorde . drinking & drug references present . please amend wording where required !

THE PATH .

“ now i’m alone on a windswept island . ” “ if you’re looking for a saviour , well that’s not me . ” “ you need someone to take your pain for you ? ” “ we’re all broken and sad . ” “ where are the dreams that we had ? ” “ can’t find the dreams that we had . ” “ let’s hope the sun will show us the path . ” “ saviour is not me . ” “ i just hope the sun will show us the path . ”

SOLAR POWER .

“ i hate the winter , can’t stand the cold . ” “ i tend to cancel all the plans . ” “ but when the heat comes , something takes a hold . ” “ can i kick it ? ” “ my boy behind me , he’s taking pictures . ” “ come one , come all . i’ll tell you my secrets . ” “ forget all of the tears that you’ve cried . ” “ it’s over . ” “ it’s a new state of mind . ” “ are you coming , my baby ? ” “ i throw my cellular device in the water . ” “ can you reach me ? ” “ come on and let the bliss begin . ” “ blink three times when you feel it kicking in . ” “ that solar power . ”

CALIFORNIA .

“ i knew that’s it ; i’ll never be the same . ” “ now i’ve spent thousands on you , darling . ” “ oh , the hotels and jets , and i’d pay it again to have your golden body back in my bed . ” “ i don’t miss the poison arrows aimed directly at my head . ” “ don’t want that california love .” “ it got hard to grow up with your cool hand around my neck . ” “ but every time i smell tequila , god , it goes up in my mind again . ” “ it’s just a dream . ” “ i wanna wake up . ”

STONED AT THE NAIL SALON .

“ i love this life that i have . ” “ i wonder sometimes what i’m missing .” “ ‘cause all the beautiful girls , they will fade like the roses . ” “ maybe i’m just stoned at the nail salon . ” “ got a memory of waiting in your bed wearing only my earrings . ” “ we’d go dancing all over the landmines under our town . ” “ but the sun has to rise . ” “ i’m still crazy for you , babe . ” “ and all the times they will change ; it’ll all come around . ” “ oh , make it good . ” “ spend all the evenings you can with the people who raised you . ”

FALLEN FRUIT .

“ we had no idea the dreams we had were far too big . ” “ we will walk together . ” “ you’ll leave us dancing on the fallen fruit . ” “ we’ll disappear in the cover of the rain . ” “ took the great minds and the vapers and a pocketful of seed . ” “ it’s time for us to leave . ” “ how can i love what i know i am gonna lose ? ” “ don’t make me choose . ”

SECRETS FROM A GIRL ( WHO’S SEEN IT ALL )

“ only having two drinks then leaving . ” “ it’s a funny thing . ” “ thought you’d never gain self control . ” “ guess it’s been a while since you last said sorry . ” “ crying in the dark at your best friend’s party . ” “ growing up a little at a time , then all at once . ” “ everyone wants the best for you , but you’ve gotta want it for yourself . ” “ you can take ‘em if you want ‘em . ” “ these are just secrets from a girl who’s seen it all . ” “ remember all the hurt you would feel when you weren’t desired ? ” “ remember what you thought was grief before you god the call ? ” “ no one’s gonna feel the pain for you . ” “ you’re gonna love again , so just try staying open . ” “ and when the time comes , you’ll fall . ” “ your dreams and inner visions , all your mystical ambitions ; they won’t let you down . ” “ do your best to trust all the rays of light . ” “ welcome to sadness ; the temperature is unbearable until you face it . ” “ your emotional baggage can be picked up at carousel number two . ” “ please be careful , so it doesn’t fall onto someone you love . ” “ you’ll be fine . ” “ you can stay as long as you need to get familiar with the feeling . ”

THE MAN WITH THE AXE .

“ if i had to break it down , i’d say it’s the way you love to down . ” “ our shapes in the dark are the reason i’ve stayed . ” “ i thought i was a genius . ” “ it’s starting to feel like all i know how to do is put on a suit and take it away . ” “ they fill up my nights and then they float away . ” “ i guess i’ll always be this way . ” “ swallowed up by the words and halfway to space . ” “ but there , by the fire , you offered your hand . and as i took it , i loved you . ” “ the man with the axe and the look in his eyes . ” “ we’ve been through so many hard times . ” “ i’m writing a love song for you , baby . ”

DOMINOES .

“ i heard that you were doing yoga . ” “ just another phase you’re rushing on through . ” “ go all new age , outrunning your blues . ” “ fifty gleaming chances in a row , then i watch you flick them down like dominoes . ” “ must feel good being mister-start-again . ” “ i know a girl who knows another girl who knows the woman that you hurt . ” “ the whole world changes right around you . ”

BIG STAR .

“ everyone knows that you’re too good for me , don’t they ? ” “ i’m a cheater . i lie , and i’m shy . ” “ but you like to say hello to total strangers . ” “ i can’t believe i used to stay inside . ” “ but every perfect summer’s gotta say goodnight . ” “ i used to love the party , now i’m not alright . ” “ drinking in the dark , take me home tonight . ” “ baby you’re a big star . ” “ wanna take your picture . ” “ i toss up if it’s worth it now every time i get on a plane . ” “ i’ve got so much to tell you and not enough time to do it in . ” “ i’ll still watch you run through the winter light . ”

LEADER OF A NEW REGIME .

“ wearing spf 3000 for the ultraviolet rays . ” “ made it to the island on the last of the outbound planes . ” “ got a trunk full of simone and céline , and of course my magazines . ” “ i’m gonna live out my days . ” “ won’t somebody , anybody , be the leader of a new regime ? ” “ we need the leader of a new regime . ”

MOOD RING .

“ can’t seem to fix my mood . ” “ today it’s as dark as my roots . ” “ can’t seem to find what’s wrong . ” “ the whole world is letting me down . ” “ don’t you think the early 2000′s seem so far away ?” “ i can’t feel a thing . ” “ i keep looking at my mood ring . ” “ i’m tryna get well from the inside . ” “ they’ll have what i need . ” “ we’ll keep dancing till the mood rings tell us how we’re feeling . ” “ take me to some kinda place , anywhere . ” “ watch the sun set , look back on my life . ” “ i just wanna know , will it be alright ? ”

OCEANIC FEELING .

“ it’s a blue day . ” “ when i hit that water , when it holds me , i think about my father doing the same thing when he was a boy . ” “ we could go fishing . ” “ i think you’re an angel . ” “ you’re super cool . ” “ i know you’re scared . ” “ but all will be revealed in time . ” “ oh , look . the rays are in the bay now . ” “ can you hear the waves and cicadas all around ? ” “ i can make anything real . ” “ brain so hot , it’s a summer body . ” “ every day is blue and never cloudy . ” “ don’t look down . ” “ will she split a tab with her lover and laugh at the stars like her mother ? ” “ i don’t need her anymore . ” “ i got this power . ” “ i just had to breathe out and tune in . ” “ i know you’ll show me how . ” “ i’ll know when it’s time . ”

#rp help #lyrical rp starters #lorde rp starters #solar power prompts #q.

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simpz-art-stash · 3 years

Text

Late beginnings

Summary: Mac goes out for a drink, and happens upon some advice he takes into consideration about his skewered relationship with Wukong. Before finally taking some action to mend the long burnt bridge. (Author’s note: I barely did any beta reading for this so if it’s worded strangely that’s just how I write without the normal filter on. I’m country so HOWDY) Next Page ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- The night was late, but he didn’t care, he might as well have been nocturnal with the way his whole life revolved around the whole stereotype of shadows and shit. He’d walked into a bar he’d passed through a few times before, donning his human disguise of course beforehand, and walked in without sparing anyone else a glance. Before planting his rear in one of the stools seated at the front bar, ordering a drink to get the night started. “I’m really looking forward to seeing that new Monkey King movie with the trailer they just released. You saw it too right?? The whole style of the film is on par with their most recent game- OH, you think they’re gonna make a game of it?? I bet you they wiiiill!~” Ugh, great, just what he’d come here to avoid.

Mac’s eyes glanced to the blabbermouth boasting about whatever new movie was being made about his ex, to see two girls residing a ways down near the other end of the bar a few seats away from him. Both looking to have had a fair night themselves already if any of the cups and plates hanging around their spot was anything to go by. “Probably. I hope it’s better than last game that came out on the Brick 360, the bugs in that thing were gross to deal with.” Their friend commented back. Before looking down at their phone and claiming that it was getting late and that they had to go. “Yeah I’ll see ya Monday!” The chick waved their friend off a lazy farewell after they’d paid their bill before going back to their drink, now taking less tedious sips as the mood seemed to smooth out from their conversation prior. “I see someone’s a pretty big fan of that ol’ man.” Macaque piped up from where he sat, earning the attention of the stranger he’d directed his comment towards. “The Monkey King yeah?” Sparks danced in the chick’s eyes at the recognition of the name, before the stranger perked up and beamed a smile back at him, “You betcha! I’m a total nerd for that legend.” ‘A legend, hah.’ “S’the whole reason I moved to China in the first place.” She jabbed a thumb at her chest, “All the way from America!” Mac whistled, “That’s a pretty far leap to take, even for a legend. What, you hopin’ you’ll get the chance to see em’ or somethin’?” He sneered, taking his glass and lazily swirling it in his hand. “I wish!” She laughed, “Nah I mostly just moved here for work. If anything though it’s cuz a them for where I am now. I’d never even heard of him till about five years ago!” Mac blinked, lowering his drink from his lips, “You’re joking…”

“Not at all! No one hardly knows the story back home. Only reason I found out was cuz I just started gettin’ into anything monkey-related as a hobby.” She pointed at him, “Don’t laugh either, it’s a wildly popular standpoint to have these days online.” Mac quirked a brow at that, he’d hardly touched the internet these days save for whenever he needed some quick info on something he couldn’t find elsewhere. He held his hands up, “Hey I ain’t judging…” He smirked a little to betray the look that he totally was though. It was kinda funny how ironic it was him being there right then. She squinted at him, “Anyways...Yeah, I’d seen stuff of him online, but I’d never paid much attention to it up until recently.” “What made you change your mind?” Mac boredly probed, taking a sip. She simply shrugged, “I was in a dark headspace, guy made me laugh.” He paused, “Wait, seriously??” “I mean have you HEARD half the crazy shit he’s done??” ‘Babe I’ve LIVED through half the shit he’s done.’ “Like, literally, the guy is HILARIOUS. My favorite story out of them all being one where he literally tricked THREE taoist immortals into drinking his own piss!!” She burst out laughing while Mac choked on his drink a little, not having expected to hear that of all things. Sure he’d heard a few of the shenanigan’s his peaches had gotten up to throughout his journey to the west but he’d never heard that one before. Nor had he the patience to read through all that mess of context that had been published either. “Ahhh man, it still gets me…” The chick sighed with a few leftover laughs as she wiped a tear from her eye. “What about you? What’s your favorite story?” She asked. And suddenly Mac felt like he’d been put on the spot as he stared back at her. “Come ooon, surely there’s one that’s gotten your gut rolling.” She pried. ‘Plenty, but there ain’t no way in hell I’d tell a soul.’ “Bahh...there ain’t the first one that comes to mind that I’d like. Honestly I’m not even much of a fan.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Whaaat?? Aw come on! There’s tons of cool n’ funny stories!” “Heh..can’t imagine what you find so charming about a guy who’s too good for his own friends.” Mac spitefully twacked himself mentally for spewing something so personal like that out. Ugh, and he hadn’t even finished half his drink yet… The chick sitting to his left seemed to tilt her head a little before she squinted at him. Her silence being what brought his attention from his drink to her as he blinked back with a quirked brow. “What?” “Your eyes, they’re like raging storm clouds.” She pointed out. He blinked, not really sure how to feel about that. The only one who’d ever really pointed that out to him before was… “...So?” “Nothing!...” She shrugged, turning back away towards her own drink as if no conversation at all had happened between them. Whatever...he had his fill of shit to drink to either way. The night might’ve been late but he was just getting started. “He makes me laugh though.” She pointed out, earning her a glance. “All his stories n’ stuff. If there was ever a man I’d want, it’d be one who could always make me laugh.” “Hmph, not one for strength?” He took a long sip. Ignoring the bitterness of others fawning over someone he’d come to love before he’d gotten so popular. “Strength is fine n’ all, but it can only take a relationship so far..you gotta have more pieces to put in that crockpot of a relationship if you wanna make it taste good. Stuff like patience, honesty, a little bit of everything to help it all come together to make it juuuuust right.” “Hm…” “It can’t be all just you putting the stuff in there either, it’s gotta be a contribution from both gardens. Otherwise you’ll just barren your lands and be left with nothing to spare yourself or others in your life with.” She glanced at Mac, “Relationships are tricky like that, but they should always be a 50/50 split~” She winked. That...actually sounded like pretty sound advice. Something he’d heard a little here and there before but never so simply laid out. Though it made sense from his standpoint, fairness n’ all that. But he’d been that way with Wukong before and it had never worked out, all the bickering and such, so what had gone wrong? “Can I...ask you something?” Mac inquired. “Shoot.” “What’re your thoughts on..a relationship that seemed fine, but then the other changed so much that everything about it fell apart?” “Mmm...care to sprinkle in a lil more context?” The chick eyed him. Mac’s face scrunched up a little, no idea why he was asking some random mortal for relationship advice of all things. “Hey man. We’re both probably never gonna meet again after tonight, so if you’ve got skeletons in your closet, your best place to let em’ out is here. Bartenders are known for being the most well kept secret keepers in all the world after all~” She winked at the bartender in question who simply looked the other way with a look that might’ve suggested such a fact as truth. “Hm…” Ah screw it, “Alright alright…” He sighed and put his drink down, “There’s..someone. We used to be real close, we were strong together but then uh..shit got real and he had to go deal with it. But when he came back he uh, wasn’t the same as before, an I might’ve sorta assumed he was cheating on me so…so we kinda fell out.” The chick nodded, “Ahh..the classic misunderstanding of change and cheating, a tale as old as time.” She seemed to hum a moment before she turned from where she was seated, if not to hop down off her stool and plop down on the one right up next to him. “Uh-” “Shhh, lemme see those eyes.” She squinted, leaning in and staring deep into his. It’d would’ve been really unnerving if she hadn’t said anything about them before, now he was a lil put off that he might’ve been asking a witch of all things for advice… “Right. Well, at least you feel bad about it. So there’s that.” He blinked and his brows furrowed, “Wh- of course I feel bad about it, it was his fault-” He suddenly had a finger pressed to his lips. “Nope! Nooononono, you do not get to throw all the blame elsewhere like that sweetheart. There ain’t no way in hell you’re gettin’ a second chance with them if you keep that up.” She pulled her hands back. His face scrunched up and he found himself crossing his arms, if he had his tail out it would’ve been irritably swaying behind him right then at just how annoyed he was getting at this weird lady and her words. “Oh yeah? An what do you think’s best then huh?” “I dunno if you’d be up for that kinda challenge…” She idly fiddled with an imaginative piece of lint off her sleeve, which only seemed to irritate Mac further at the thought of him not being able to handle Wukong of all people. Like sure he’d gotten his ass handed to him before but he could still hold his own! “Try me.” The chick glanced back at him with a smirk, which caught him off guard for a second before he shot her a glare back. “Alright, but it’s definitely not gonna be as quick or easygoing of a recovery as you might hope it’ll be. Nor is there even a chance of you recovering it in the first place. But, you at least got that spark enough to try so who am I to deny?” ‘Hmpt, dam right I got a spark.’

“First of all, no more blaming, if you’re gonna tackle this properly, you gotta do yourselves a favor an quit it with the blame placing. Sure it’s easy, but it ain’t gonna get you nowhere but back to square one. It’s all in the past, the now is now. So push forward to fix it and put it behind you two so you can focus on the more important things.” “Easier said than done…” “Hey man, even if they don’t follow the same ruleset at first you could always work things out to make it one later on. I’m just tellin’ ya right now so you won’t just go diggin’ yourself a deeper hole.” Honestly at this point he was pretty much six feet down under, death to him would’ve been a mercy right then. “Fine…” He rolled his eyes. “Next up, apologizing…” -----------~----------- “I thought I told you to stay off my island.” Mac didn’t really glance back from where he stood high up on one of the breathtaking ledges that which Flower Fruit Mountain bolstered. His arms crossed, eyes sternly held against the leftover warmth of the late afternoon sun as it shifted the skies hues from blue to blood red. Hopefully that would be the only tinge of red the Mountain would see after today. “I know.” “What, no witty remark? Give me one good reason-” “I just wanted to talk.” Mac stated plainly. “Why the hell should I give you the chance?” “...” Mac wasn’t sure if he could come up with a good enough reason after the shitshow he’d caused him the last few centuries, most recent being his spat with him between MK. “I’m sorry.” That seemed to catch the king off guard, as he paused in his vicious glare to stare at the other. “Excuse me??” “I’m.Sorry.” Mac turned finally to Wukong, that look of fiery malice having softened immensely upon meeting their eyes. “I was wrong for what I did and I’m sorry.” Wukong’s face looked like it had had a stroke with how frozen in place it was, almost like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Hurting everyone around you just to get back at you, I was wrong for doing that. And I just wanted to apologize.” Mac’s face twisted a little, the words coming out a little rougher than he’d liked, but he’d managed to get three steps in so far… “If you think a few sorry’s are gonna be enough to make up for all that crap then you gotta nother’ thing comin Mac.” Wukong finally shook off the surprise and crossed his arms with a steely gaze. “Nah I know they ain’t worth shit with as long as it's been...which it’s been..a really, really long time come to think of it..nearly 3000 years…” Fucking yikes. “What’s your point?...” Wukong raised a brow at him. “My point is...my point..” What was his point? To make amends and hope they’d get back together? To go back to the way things were? That couldn’t be done with the way things were now. Wukong had a successor, a moral compass, a lotta shit that Mac didn’t. A lotta shit that he wanted but never could figure out how to get his own. His face scrunched up a little and he sighed, “I..just wanted to make things right.” “Oh-hoh? After so long you finally decided to admit you were at fault? Sorry Mac, but it’s waaaay too late for that.” Wukong huffed, “Honestly, this is probably just another one of your stupid tricks if anything. The old Macaque would never throw himself down like that.” “Well maybe I’ve changed!” Mac exclaimed suddenly, his temper flaring a bit as his eyes flashed lightning. “3000 years later? As if…” Wukong rolled his eyes and turned away, “You’ve still got that same look in your eyes you always do whenever we fight. Do me a favor and just keep away from the hot springs this time yeah? The last time you were here you sent a whole dam boulder over there and smashed half the pools.” He waved his hand dismissively. “And I happen to take my once a month bath’s very seriously.” Mac’s nostrils flared a little at just how flamboyant Wukong was acting towards him and his attempt to make amends. How he just saw his attempt as a joke and nothing more, it pissed him off. Wukong had changed and everyone had accepted him, well not everyone, but still, why couldn’t the same be for him? Had he really fooled himself into believing that there was a chance he and Wukong could be together again? His shoulders slumped a little. Of course, who was he kidding. A 3000 year old pit of grudges wasn’t about to just up and disappear at the wave of a white flag. This was Wukong, the same guy who still playfully pestered the gods and demons around him for past conflicts that had happened between them. -----------~----------- “But you can’t just go, ‘ooo I’m so sorry for what I did.’ Nah, you gotta follow the five steps.” The chick claimed. “Yeesh, this a learning course now?” Mac tilted his head to the side. “It is if you wanna make things right.” She claimed matter a factly. “The five steps have never failed me before and have worked wonders for any an all my relationships. Might not quite have the same range of effect you’re going for but it’ll at least be a good start.” “Heh, you got the guts to back up that case?” Mac sneered. “I will if you don’t manage to screw it up.” The chick pointed out. “The five steps go as follows.” - express sorrow (I’m sorry) - own guilt (I was wrong) - name specific wrongs (I did X) - name impact (I hurt you) “And finally...” -----------~----------- “What can I do to prove myself to you?” Macaque asked finally. “What can I do to at least make it to where we can..not fight anymore..and just talk?...” Wukong stood there for a long moment, his features unreadable as their silence was muffled by the wind bellowing between them both from being so high up. “You really are serious about this aren’t you?...” Wukong’s head shifted ever so slightly, but not enough to where Mac could get a reading on his emotions. “I’m tired of fighting and waiting and thinking that if enough time passes things’ll go back to the way they were...when they never will. Trying to hurt you isn’t gonna make the old you come back, no matter how many times you beat me down...It’ll never be the same.” Mac admitted finally. A quiet gust settled down between them, before Wukong seemed to let out a dry chuckle and shook his head. “Can’t believe it took me 3000 years to beat the sense into you.” He turned and looked back at the other, where he no longer held a look of seething hate, but more akin to that of the same tired look just as the one Mac wore. Mac felt a sliver of guilt wriggle its way into one of the cracks of his heart and he glanced away, pulling a hand back and scratching his head. “Yeah well...your kid hit me pretty hard last time, enough to knock it in place.” A small smile crept a little onto his face. “Hm~ He’s gettin’ pretty good at hittin’ stuff with that old stick.” Wukong’s eyes glinted a little at the appeal of how proud he was for MK having taken Mac out the way he did. A little over the top and flashy, just like him.” “He’s got a pretty strong master to thank for that…” Mac found himself yearning a little for that same glint to be reflected on his memory the same way as MK’s. Not that he couldn’t see himself holding the same appeal for MK the way Wukong did, kid was strong, just a lil desperate in some of the cracks that shaped his outline. Something Macaque found that was easy enough to take advantage of, and something Wukong held a blind eye to. “Hm.” Wukong’s reply pushed him out of those thoughts for the moment as they shared a brief look between one another. A glimmer of reconsideration flashing between the two before Wukong finally turned his head away to drink in the sunset before them. “One chance.” Mac felt his heart nearly stop at that answer. “I’ll give you one chance, but if you screw this up, don’t even think about showing your face to me again.” Wukong replied, “I mean it this time…” Mac swallowed a little and nodded. Anything, he’d be willing to do anything to gain back what little trust he could from Wukong. “Good...you can start making up for it by apologizing to MK.” Mac blinked and sputtered a little as Wukong turned away and began to make his way back down the mountain. A smile playing on his lips while Macaque groaned to the heavens about his next trial.

#shadowpeaches #LMK #lego monkie kid #my fics #Sun Wukong #Macaque #AND MEEEEE #BECAUSE I SAID SO #>:3c

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devilrainbunnie · 3 years

Text

Midnight Train

Dabi x Fem!Reader

cw: smut 18+ minors DNI, chikan, dubcon/noncon, pet names, pervy dabi

You stood in the train station, feeling a bit out of place. Looking around at your surroundings, and wondering when your train was going to arrive. It was running a little too late for your liking. Not to mention the fact that it was late, and cold, you didn’t even have a coat. You were wearing a long sleeved shirt, a short black skirt, and matching thigh highs with some simple school girl like shoes. Which was kind of ironic for you to wear. At the moment, you were currently in your second year of university. Just coming back from an outing with your friends, and cutting it off early because you had work the next morning. You were always overly cautious anywhere near trains, just due to the nature of pervy men, and the amount of times you’ve had experiences with them. Not even to mention how intense it is around this area. You berated yourself internally for deciding to wear something like this out, but now you had no choice but to just try and deal with it for now.

Absent-mindedly you scrolled on your phone, to give you some sort of distraction from the anxiety you felt beginning to stir in your stomach, tightening your thighs together, and keeping your purse close to your body. Then soon, the sounds of a fast moving vehicle, and wheels breaking to a halt brought you out from beneath your phones gaze. Looking up to greet the train. You patiently waited until it’s gears locked into place, and the doors opened. Waiting until the small crowd of people walked out of the cart, and then following into it. The cart was decently full of people. But to your absolute demise, there was some substance on some of the seats that looked like a spilled milk tea boba. Which was why you had to stand. Opting for the back of the cart that had some people also standing around. One of them meeting your gaze. Hooded, cerulean eyes following behind you, as you reached your spot to stand. He must’ve got on with me, you thought to yourself. The person was a bit of distant from you, staring at you without remorse. It was hard to make out their features with the large hood they wore over their head, and it made you anxious. Holding your body closer to itself.

He was looking at you like a predator stalking prey, hungry, and ready to devour. A look that quite honestly was making your heart absolutely flutter against your rib cage. Then you did something kind of stupid, pulling out your phone again, and trying to focus all of your attention on it. Trying to pay the hooded man no attention, out of your peripherals, you saw him lift his hood back. But again, you were too scared to see what he looked like. No matter how intense your curiosity was. After a short while into the trip following that, you checked again to see if he was there, and surprisingly he wasn’t.

That’s when you froze, instantly recognizing the feeling of someone standing just behind you. Too scared to gaze behind you, and the train suddenly causing the cart to jolt, your body mushed right against his, as your wobbly knees made you unstable on your feet. Perfect timing.

“S-Sorry!” you cried out, lurching yourself forward. His body following yours.

“It’s quite alright, doll face.” a husky voice whispered behind you. “I like your skirt, it’s cute on you.”

You didn’t respond to this, your blood was running cold, and your breath hitched inside of your throat. He made it a point to step closer to you, the heat radiating off of him was almost too much. The stranger was only an inch or so from touching your body, a hand reached to you hair, tucking it to the side as he leaned in. Body flush with yours, as he whispered to you. “It’s not nice to ignore people when they compliment you.”

“I’m s-sorry.”

“Is that all you know how to say?”

“I-I’m sorry I’m not trying to offend you--”

“Oh baby, you already did though. You hurt me real bad. Don’t you think I deserve something for my bleeding heart?” he taunted. Hands traveling in different directions, his large hand groping the flesh of your ass. This stranger just reached under your skirt to grab you, and you to let out a little yelp, and his hand colliding with your mouth forcefully. “I don’t think you want to find out what happens to little girls who are loud, and bratty. I’m not gonna hurt you baby, just be a good girl, an’ let me take care of ya.” he raised the hand from your mouth to show you the tiny blue flame in his palm. Instinctively you shuddered, gulping down the lump in your throat. “Am I understood?”

You nodded, he grabbed your jaw, which forced you took look at him as his head appeared by you shoulder. “Use your words, like a good girl. Remember what we talked about?” he was quite attractive, despite all of the deep scars on his face. His black locks framing his face evenly, and looked quite fluffy. His scars looked painful, and so did all his staples. The piercings on his nostrils were cool though-- despite that, he looked like he had been through hell and back. It made you all the more confused, he was good looking enough to score any girl he wanted. Even with all of the scars and staples, girls probably drooled over it. So why did he bothering harassing you on a train? The man was probably just a full blown predator, and it made you start to panic worse.

“Y-yes, I-I’ll be quiet. I’ll be good.” you said with a wavering voice, tears forming in your eyes at the situation.

“Mmm, such a good girl. Nice an’ sweet, just like I like ‘em.” he murmured against your neck, leaving a wake of wet kisses across it. Taking some experimental bites to try to find your sweet spot, and when he did, you writhed against him. Letting out the cutest little whimper. “Look at you, you’re so fuckin’ sexy.” he was thankful he spotted you initially, he really found a prize that night.

He was walking back from a bar, and he saw you approaching the train station. You looked so sweet, so soft, and so easy to taint. The way your squishy thighs looked in your socks, and how your ass’ curve was more prominent due to the skirts little ruffling drove him to you. Eyes lingering over ever inch of your body, he needed you the second he saw your cute face too. He just knew you were a sweet little girl, and he wanted to taste you before he lost you for good. Honestly, you were such a good girl for him right now he debated on taking you home. Sure, you’d be a lovely little pet to have around the house. He could sure use the company, and you were just so goddamn cute. The man would love to wake up every morning to face fuck you, or violate you a little bit before he started his day. I mean how could he not— just look at the way your pretty e/c eyes leaked tears out, and your plump lips pouted as his fingers dove for your pussy. So pretty.

This sick man decided to lick your face to wipe away the tears from your stained, heated cheeks. His long, calloused fingers rubbing against your clothed slit, making your hips buck at the pleasure of it. Little strangled moans being held down in your throat. Waiting for your slick to seep through the pretty light blue cotton, and keep it for later. “Has anyone ever touched you like this before? Hmm? Does it feel good?”

“N-No, plea-ah, please j-just stop.” you cried out, sniffling after you choked out the words. His fingers began to push your pretty little panties to the side, moving his fingers up and down your cunt. Finally able to feel that you were actually becoming a bit wet, he chuckled behind you. You let out a soft moan, the first one he was able to actually get out of you.

“Mm, you’re getting more wet by the second. You sure?” he teased. His opposing hand sleeping inside of your sweater, pushing a breast out of its cup, and squishing the flesh in his palm. Tweaking the nipple between his fingers, arching your back and wincing at the pleasurable pain. “You’re so sensitive, and I haven’t even put my dick in you.”

“Pl-please. I- just want to g-go home.” you whimpered as he continued to violate you, finding your clit and pinching the bud between his fingers. Watching as your breaths became ragged, and the way your knuckles turned white as you held on to the metal pole. The way his fingers were working against your untouched pussy right now, was making it drool. You hated how much that was turning you on.

“Turn your head.” he commanded, and you did. Meeting once again, his face at your shoulder, this time his hand slipped from your breast. Grabbing the opposing side of your face and slamming your lips against his. Surprisingly, his kiss wasn’t at all overbearing, or forceful as you thought it was going to be. It was slow, and somehow passionate, despite the situation. You kissed him back, just trying to be compliant. His lips were soft, despite his lower lip being badly damaged, and he knew how to use it well. The hand quickly knotted itself in your hair, causing you to gasp, and open your mouth for him. His wet muscle tangling in with yours, and with that, a deep guttural groan left the back of his throat. Combined with your little whimpers, created an odd symphony of pleasure.

With your mouth occupied, two of his fingers began running across your slit. Gathering the arousal between his fingers to act as lubricant. Then plunging the digits straight into your throbbing, and tight hole. Which made your body act on instinct, and you gasped loudly in his mouth. He pulled back, chuckling at how much you were reacting now. Panting like a bitch in heat, biting back a plethora of moans inside of your throat. He really wanted to hear you crying out to him, and moaning, but he didn’t want to cause too much of a scene. Who knows, if he’s really feeling up for risking everyone’s safety, mostly his own for some snatch— he’ll fucking do it.

“Do you feel good?” he asked you, kissing up your jaw again.

“Y-yes.” you whispered, your small hands struggle to stay up against the pole. The pace of his fingers began to speed up, causing a horrid squish-y sound to be heard in the atmosphere around the two of you. He was practically cumming at the sound of your wet sex being violated and how well you were taking him.

“Mm, I wish I could hear all those pretty sounds you’re tryin’ to hold back. God, you are just killin’ me tonight.” he moaned into your ear, taking it upon himself to start feverishly pepping your skin with his kisses as he pumped you closer, and closer to your end.

He began noticing the way you were starting to clench against him, he assumed you were beginning to enjoy yourself fully now. His other hand snaked its way down your body to toy with your clit again as well, without intent, you mewled at the sensation. One of your hands coming you to cover your mouth, you anxiously looked around the cart. For some reason, no one was looking. Either they really didn’t want to look, or they were utterly disturbed by the sight in the far corner of the cart. Since no one was paying attention, you decided to act purely on desire since you were now worked up. Letting go of the pole you were holding on to, which the man behind you was quick to notice, thinking you were about to try to fight him off, the hand toying with your clit put a bruising hold on you midsection. You winced, both at the sudden loss of your breath, but also the fingers now violently crashing into your cunt, his breath ragged in your ear, causing a chill to run down your spine. “C-can I turn around?” you asked him. His movements stopped, you couldn’t see but he was looking at you completely dumbfounded.

“Why?” he said, sounding a little offended.

“Well t-there’s not a-lot of people in here. No one i-is going to care, I... liked uhm, kissing.” you murmured shyly, feeling pathetic and disgusted with yourself for wanting more. But the throbbing inside of your womb was now becoming almost unbearable, you could use something to take the edge off.

“What’s your name, baby?” he asked, his chin now resting against your shoulder.

“F/n, why?”

“F/n... you’re very naughty, you know that? I mean what kind of dirty slut wants to start kissing someone who just grabbed ‘em on the train? Maybe I was right, you are a special girl, huh?” he was quick to turn you around, pulling his hood back over his head, but not all the way. Your bodies were touching, and resting against the pole. So that way you could actually look at him. The fingers that were inside you, stuck straight into his mouth. Cleaning off your natural essence off his fingers like he had eaten the best meal he’d ever had. “At least you taste good. Sweet. Like fuckin’ honey or somethin’. C’mere pretty, I’ll let you try.” he leered down at you, his jagged scars twisting up in a cocky smile. Grabbing you by the back of your head, and crashing his lips against yours, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth immediately, snaking a hand of his into your hair. The other one traveling down south once again, pushing right into your slippery walls. Mewling against his tongue.

The sight must’ve been so erotic, they way you were pulling his face closer to yours by holding the back of his neck. Moaning, and panting into the heated kiss. His fingers inside of your pussy scissoring, and harshly pressing right against your cervix. God his fingers are so long.

He yanked your head back, looking at your features. Drinking in the sight of your half lidded eyes, kiss swollen lips and flushed expression. Your eyes silently begging him to keep at it, removing your arms from his. The man bit his lip, leaning back a tad to put his hand around your neck, reveling at how pretty and soft you looked like this. His hand never stopping it’s assault inside of you. “Sweet, right?”

“Y-yeah.”

“How close are you?” he asked, picking up his pace.

“Mmm, c-close. So close. Nngh.” The hand around your neck squeezed harder at the sides, making your eyes roll back as the thrusts of his hand picked up. The man stood over you once more, watching how your eyes kept rolling back into your skull, and how you biting so hard on your lip he was worried it might split.

“Dabi.” he said, waiting for you to reply, and giving your neck a break from the squeezing.

“H-Huh?”

“My name, I want you to say it. Say it when you’re cummin’, I want you to remember who made you feel this good.” he kissed your cheek. “Will you be a good girl, an’ do that for me?”

“Yes D-Dabi. I’ll- be good.”

“You’re completely falling apart with just my touch.” he chuckled, leaning to your ear again, his hands dropping from your neck, to your thigh. Feeling to flesh of your ass again, this time he tried to hold your thigh to his hip, like he was expecting you to let him carry you. But in all honesty, it’s so he could rut his hips against your thigh and try to pretend for a second he was fucking you. Dabi reveled in the feeling of your soft skin against his fingertips. Bet it would feel even nicer against his dick. “I could fuck you right now, just whip out my cock, and stick it right in. I bet you’d like that huh? Me fucking you in front of all these people? I bet you wouldn’t even try to be quiet. Dirty, dirty girl. Maybe I should, huh-”

“No! No, p-please not here. Not in public. P-please Dabi.”

“I like seeing you beg like that, so I won’t this time ‘round.” he attached his mouth to your neck. Making it a point now to mark his territory, and watch you squirm. Wait-- this time around?! In that moment, you felt you were seconds away from bursting and his words meant nothing. His fingers inside of you continued to curl, and push you in all the right places. Your body quickly beginning to flood with a familiar euphoric sensation, knees growing weak, and the blissful feeling of stomach growing tight was all you could think about.

“D-Dabi.” you mewled out, mouth left to hang open. Your hands quickly clutching the jacket he was wearing, trying to feel like you had some control. “Please d-don’t stop, p-lease- oh!”

He stared into your face as you grew closer. Dabi liked how hard you were tugging at his jacket, it confirmed for him that you were actually growing a lot closer than he thought. Despite the feeling of your gooey walls clenching around his fingers as if it was trying to suck them in. “Cum for me baby, you’re so close.”

“Dabi-- oh God, fuck- Dabi!” you cried out, a little bit louder than you intended. The coil in your stomach finally snapped, releasing the overwhelming feeling of your formerly restrained orgasm. Your tight cunny was clenching vigorously around him as he continued to pump into you, enjoying as you struggled to breathe due to how hard you had just came. Every inch of your body was jolting, trying to adjust to the come down of the feeling, and the man above you was watching with a smile. Dabi brought his free hand up that wasn’t covered in slick, and wiped some sweat, as well with stray hairs from your face.

“Open up.” he said, removing his hand from your aching, and pleased cunt, shoving them into your mouth. Suddenly alarmed by the feeling of tasting your own arousal, and having his fingers try to climb their way down your throat. “Suck.”

So that’s what you did-- suck on his fingers, and he pumped them as well. Watching your pretty mouth try to take all of his abuse, and after he deemed them clean enough, he pulled them out. “You did so well for me tonight. We a couple minutes left of this ride, let’s make out.”

Before you could even respond, his tongue was already in your mouth and silencing you. During the time it took for you guys to get to your train stop, you did exactly that. Passionately making out for all to see, against a pole inside of a train cart. His hands palming your ass under your skirt like before, and your hands running through the tendrils of inky black locks. Honestly, you really should feel more ashamed than you currently are. Making out with the same man who was making you cry not even fifteen minutes ago, and letting him grind his erection against your thigh. But, you needed to fix that ache in your womb. You needed someone, or something, to make that coil snap.

Then soon, the train was beginning to halt to a stop, and the two of you pulled away. Your hands still locked into his hair. Holding his face close to yours. “That was fun, but I oughta head off now. I’ll be lookin’ out for you, so don’t do anything stupid, or run off on me.” you nodded, feeling threatened by his words, but also excited at the opportunity to see him again. Never in a million years would you think this of all things would happen, but it wasn’t anything to complain about. He pulled you in for another kiss, and following it by pressing another one to your cheek. “Get home safe now, ‘kay?”

“Okay.” you said in a hushed voice, as he pulled away from your body. Pulling his hood further over his face. Leaving you a stick, sweaty mess in the now emptying train. Adjusting your skirt, and top, combing through your now horribly messed locks.

Before stepping out, you got a disgusted look from an older woman in the back of the cart. Shaking her head at you. But it made you let out a little laugh, stepping out of the cart on to the platform. Eyes scanning the scene for any sight of your scarred, and disturbed prince charming. But by that time he was long gone. Which kind of made you sad, but also relieved. Your mind was hazy, and clouded with a confused lust. Wondering if his words were true— were you going to see him again? Did you even want to? Why weren’t you freaking out right now? What is going on?

The entire walk home, was filled with your mind being so loud it was drowning out all of your senses.

Including the one that could’ve sensed the man following you home.

Don’t worry though, he just wanted to make sure his pet got home safely.

#dabi smut #dom dabi #tw chikan #tw: dark fics #tw dark fic #dabi x reader #dabi fan fiction #tw dubcon #tw noncon #tw smut

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blushingreid · 4 years

Text

Girls’ Night

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

BAU Ladies x Fem!Reader

A/N: Based on this scene in s7ep16 “A Family Affair” (I almost cried Bc I thought I couldn’t find the gifs). We were ROBBED not seeing anything from their girls' night ! So I wrote a lil one-shot about what “happened” during their wild night w/ reader ofc. I hope y’all enjoy it & slide some feedback <3

“Wow you look amazing,” Spencer complimented once y/n emerged from the bathroom. After many cancellations because of cases, she and the BAU ladies were finally having their girls’ night. Penelope had insisted and convinced them to check out a new salsa club that recently opened near her apartment. Spencer had volunteered to watch Henry the couple hours they’d be gone.

Y/n finished putting on her earrings and sauntered over to Spencer who was watching her at the door. “Thanks again for doing this Spence,” she said before leaning up to give him a kiss. She intended for it to be a quick one, but as she was pulling away, Spencer had wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back in for more.

After finally breaking apart for air, y/n’s thumb lightly traced across his bottom lip as they gazed into each other’s eyes, neither one of them pulling apart. “You’re gonna be the reason I’m late.”

Spencer sighed and gave her one last kiss before they headed over to JJ’s. The car ride was quick, even though Spencer had insisted on taking the “scenic route” so he could spend a couple more minutes alone with y/n. When they finally arrived at the house, not even 10 seconds had passed after they rang the doorbell before it quickly swung open.

“The lovebirds have finally arrived,” Penelope announced as she opened the door and ushered them in.

Emily waltzed out of the kitchen holding two shot glasses in her hands. With a big smile on her face, she handed y/n one of them. “Yessssss, we can finally get this party started!” she cheered as she watched y/n give her a fake hurt look as she grabbed the shot glass.

“You started pre-gaming without me I see,” y/n teased before tossing back the shot. Spencer’s eyes widened for a brief second as he watched y/n take the shot without a question. He’d never seen her drunk so he wondered how big her alcohol tolerance was.

“Hey you girlies can’t be too drunk before we get to where we’re going,” Penelope whined, snatching the second shot glass out of Emily’s hand.

Emily’s pleas for it back were interrupted when JJ finally walked out the living room. “Okay, so I got Henry in his little playpen watching Bubble Guppies. That should keep him pretty entertained for a while.”

“Great because our uber is here,” Penelope excitedly announced, opening the door to head out, Emily and y/n following behind her.

“We’ll only be gone for a couple hours. Please don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything,” JJ said as she headed out the door.

Seeing the worry and hesitation in her eyes, Spencer gently ushered her out the door. “I have 3 PhDs, I think I can handle my godson. Go have fun and be safe!” Watching them pile into the car, Spencer stuck his head out the door and waved bye. A hint of worry and curiosity entered his mind about what kind of trouble they would get into.

JJ sighed once she got into the car. Sensing her worry, y/n gave her hand a gentle squeeze. The car ride was filled with JJ, y/n, and Emily profiling their driver while Penelope ranted about a woman she met in the grocery store the other day. They hadn’t realized they’d arrived until the driver hit the breaks a little too hard. Maybe he’d heard their whispers about him.

“You girlies are gonna love this place,” Penelope squealed as she got out of the car.

“As long as they got some hotties, good music, and alcohol, I’ll love any club you take me to,” Emily said as they entered, she had already starting checking out the club goers. “I’ll grab a table for us.”

“I’ll grab the drinks!” Penelope said, disappearing into the crowd. JJ and y/n looked at each other, silently communicating who should go with who. JJ going with Emily while y/n followed Penelope towards the bar.

As they were waiting for the bartender to make them the special drink of the night, y/n felt an arm wrap around her waist. She instantly shoved it off and spun around to face the stranger. Before she could even tell him to buzz off, Penelope stepped in front of her. “She has a mans already, back off! You’re no where as cute as our Boy Genius,” Penelope barked at the man, staring him down until he left.

“Aw my savior,” y/n awed as she gave Penelope a kiss on the cheek.

After finally getting their drinks and wrestling through all the sweaty bodies, y/n and Penelope found Emily and JJ at a table.

“Finally! I thought Jayje and I were going to have to send out a search party for you two.” Emily handed one of the glasses to JJ and raised hers in the air. “To girls’ night! Who knows when we’ll ever have another one.”

“To girls’ night!” they cheered, toasting.

“What did you even get us?” JJ coughed after taking a sip of the drink.

Unfazed by the strength of the drink, Emily drank every last drop. “All that matters is it looks pretty and tastes good.”

“The bartender said the green fairy was the special of the night, so I figure we go big or go home,” Penelope shrugged before downing her drink. “Now c’mon ladies, show me that them hips don’t lie,” she said as she headed towards the dance floor.

Y/n hesitated for a second before downing her drink and dancing towards Penelope, who was already mixed into the crowd.

JJ took one last sip of her drink and gave Emily her best puppy eyes. “Em come on, let’s join them,” she pleaded.

Emily sighed loudly, not being able to resist JJ, especially her puppy eyes. “The only salsa I want right now belongs on chips,” Emily groaned as she let JJ drag her towards the dance floor.

After a couple green fairies later and some sloppy dancing all night, they somehow managed to all stumble back to Penelope’s apartment. They barely made it inside before the four of them immediately collapsed from exhaustion.

“I just waaannt y’aaaall to know,... that I lurv you biiiiiitches. I’d step on anyoneee for youu beautiful angeelss,” Emily slurred before passing out on the floor in front of the couch.

“I f-feel like I wasss uh s‘posed tooo do som’thang. Sleeeeeep sounds better though,” JJ mumbled before dozing off.

The next morning, while they were all peacefully sleeping, JJ was woken up by a buzzing. She couldn’t tell if the buzzing was from her head or something else. Feeling around the couch, her hand was met with a cool object. She held it up to her face, waiting for her vision to clear up. 7:12. Seeing the time, instantly she remembered what she forgot. She sat up and threw a pillow at Emily to wake her.

“Oh no no no! I told Spencer we’d be back in a couple of hours. I left him all alone with Henry!” JJ panicked before running to the bathroom, feeling sick.

“Please. Stop. Yelling. My head is killing me,” Emily groggily muttered.

“I’m sure Will relieved him of his babysitting duties once he got home last night,” Penelope reassured, clutching her head while she went to grab some water. She didn’t make it far into her kitchen before she walked into something, well someone.

“I’m never drinking that much again. My back and my head hurts,” y/n groaned, waking up on the kitchen floor. Penelope helped her stand up before handing her a glass of water.

The next hour went by in a chaotic blur. From each of them throwing up multiple times, JJ’s panicked phone calls to Will about Henry, Emily tripping over Penelope’s shoe collection, and fighting y/n for the cereal, they somehow all managed to make it in time to cheer on Hotch. Slowly, all four of them walked towards the finish line gates. Each wearing their comfiest clothes and biggest sunglasses. They all looked like they’d been hit by a car, and sounded like it too with all the groans they were making.

“Well well well, look who finally made it. We thought y’all weren’t gonna show up till the race was finished,” Morgan teased, Jack sitting on top of his shoulders.

“Couple hours! Couple hours! ‘Oh Spence don’t worry, we’ll only be gone a couple hours.’ And you all didn’t come back home until sunrise!”

“Why are you yelling?” JJ muttered clutching her head.

“Y/n make your man stop,” Emily pleaded as she leaned on the race’s barricade.

Realizing she and her friends have suffered enough, Y/n wrapped her arms around Spencer’s neck and whispered something in his ear before giving him a quick kiss and turning back towards the race. No one heard what she said except Spencer, whose face immediately turned red. He remained quiet the rest of the race, only until he spotted Hotch reaching the finish line.

“So what’d you say to Pretty Boy to get him to shut up?”

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vluepapers · 2 years

Text

What it’s like being ~childhood friends~ with...

Characters: Klee & Qiqi

Contains: fluff, angst, (some lore spoilers for both of em. Hope you enjoy!)

♧Klee♧:

- Congratulations, the cutest walking fire hazard of Teyvat has blessed you with her friendship and unlimited weapons of mass destruction.

- Keywords: M a s s d e s t r u c t i o n

- But if you do happen to have a fear of bombs or loud noises, Klee’s going to do her best to show you that she and Dodoco would never hurt you!

- She’ll try her best to explain just how cool explosions really are!

How they kaboom everything to tiny little bits- The screams of hilichurls disappearing into thin air- And how it paints the world around you with pretty shades of red! (Well- for a moment at least.)

- Thoughhh of course, if you’d let her, Klee wouldn’t mind at all if you’d like to paint the world red with her! But red as in flames, not blood since Klee be doomed if she moved on from her fish/monster bombing tactics and picked more...human-like victims.

- But of course Klee’s explanation of why bombs aren’t bad only ever made your fears worse. However, just because you're not as violently passionate as Klee doesn’t mean you two can’t get along. You’re introduced to the more calm side of Klee.

- She still emits chaotic energy but in a less terroristic sense. She’ll draw on the floor with you as she tells stories about whatever she did today. The types of fish she ‘caught’, how she had to make some Fisherman’s Toast as an apology to the fishermen for bombing their fish net open, and how she had to be in solitary confinement for a short while which is why she was a little late for your play date today.

- She also encourages you to help her make new bombs. You don’t need to test them if you don’t want to, but learning some alchemy can really help you along the way! Also, because of your more calm-ish nature, you're almost like a voice of reason to Klee.

- Not in a nagging parental way, but more of a ‘supportive yet deeply concerned friend’ type. However, if you were to be as chaotic as Klee well-

- *Laughs nervously* Everything I mentioned above would still most likely happen. Though expect a 70% sudden decrease of all life forms outside the walls of Mondstat. You two are the textbook definition of partners in crime. Fish, flames, and glory are all that await. Though deep down, Klee would be happiest with you around.

- Violent or calm, voice of reason or temptation, either way, Klee feels more than fleeting excitement with you. With you, she finds happiness.

- Klee doesn’t like to admit it but it does get a little lonely always playing by herself. The other kids are kind of scared of her and not all her adult friends are free. So it’s good that whether or not you're afraid of bombs, that you’re still willing to try and understand her.

- She’s happy that you accept her as who she is even if her hobbies aren’t seen as ‘normal’. Her passion isn’t a ‘facade’, it’s a part of who she is. Though just because it’s a part of her, doesn’t mean that’s all she is. Klee is much more than chaos or destruction. She’s cunning, creative, and a very supportive friend.

- Klee doesn’t think too much about the future, but she fully expects for her friendship with you to stay the same. Which is something she will without a doubt do her best to maintain.

- Promise to do your best too, okay? Klee loves you just as much as she loves Dodoco. Even if one day the two of you end up living from opposite sides of Teyvat, you better believe that even with Klee’s absence, she’ll make you feel as if she was just right here watching the sunset with you.

○Qiqi●

- Ah yes, the adorably tragic cryo zombie of the Bubu Pharmacy.

- Keywords: Tragic

- Your activities together are rather vibrant yet calm. No words are spoken, some barely escape, and yet it feels so kind & warm.

- Stargazing, exercising, or even herb collecting can feel so much more pleasant with Qiqi around. And Qiqi would feel the same about you.

- Like any other stranger, you were neutral to the eyes of Qiqi. Though as your trust with one another grew, so did her perception of you.

- You weren’t afraid of her, you didn’t want to take advantage of her, and you’ve always treated her as if she was one of your kind.

- She’s forgotten many things. Her desire to go back, to freeze time, and to come home to the family that destiny stole from her helpless hands.

- Though one thing she has never forgotten was her desire to live. Now that she’s free from the amber that once trapped her, Qiqi continues the rest of her days living life mindlessly.

- Her reason for living? Why she lives on despite not having a single goal in mind? Even if her kindest or cruelest of memories will all fall to dust as the next day arises? These are questions Qiqi has no answer to.

- But with you in her life, Qiqi finds such questions as useless. After all, Qiqi only wants one thing. To be able to live with you. Qiqi has no memory of who she used to be but her time with you made her subconsciouses realize that... you are the closest person she has to family.

- She doesn’t always know, but what she does know is that you're warm. The good type of warmth that makes her feel alive, and not the one that makes her feel closer to death’s grasp.

- Deep down, she knows that unlike her; you aren’t immortal. Your tranquil yet lively days with one another will come to an end sometime in the future. Before that day comes...won’t you stay with Qiqi? Until forever ends?

- Whatever the case, know that Qiqi will always protect you. Her vision doesn’t have the ability to regain the life she once lost, but it can protect the lives of those who matter.

- And don’t worry too much about her memory. To Qiqi, you're the last person she ever wants to forget. Even if there will be a day where she can barely recall the sound of your voice, the stories you told, or the special moments you’ve had together.

- The pure bliss that you made her feel shall always remain in her heart. No matter where you are in Teyvat, having a drink-off at Angel Share, leading army troops in Inazuma, or maybe even observing the world below from Celestia. Know that Qiqi will always be happy for you, wherever the distance.

#genshin headcanons #genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact klee #genshin impact qiqi #klee headcanons #childhood friends au #qiqi headcanons #genshin fanfic

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bowlegsandbiceps · 3 years

Text

Suptober Day 7: Young at Heart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

Teen / Death!Dean & Human!Cas / Destiel / 5,073 words

Read on AO3

Suptober Masterlist (A03)

It was a snowy evening in the heart of winter when Death roamed the streets of Chicago. You wouldn’t have known him from any other young man, bundled as he was in a worn leather jacket, jeans and boots but there was a certain static about him that made other pedestrians give him a wide berth. He was headed to the fire station on the corner of Hope and Clairmont, humming a Billy Joel song as he avoided slush piles and other humans alike.

He posted up against a telephone pole, making sure to breathe so any passers-by would note the cloud of air passing his lips on every exhale and assure themselves that he was human. It was the least he could do. He checked his watch, an old Timex with a cracked face, and shoved his hands in his pockets. Any minute now.

Across the street, a young girl hurried into view from around the corner, her arms full of a bundle. She looked up at the sign over the fire station door, looked down at her bundle, and swallowed hard. A tiny arm rose from the bundle, naked and red. The girl took it and tucked it back inside the blanket. She sniffled, setting the bundle gingerly down on the top step before backing away slowly. One step, then another her eyes remaining on the pile of blankets before her face crumpled and she turned to run, a dry sob echoing down the empty street.

Death pushed off the telephone pole and made his way leisurely across the street. The baby had started to cry, cold now without its mother to hold it and keep its limbs covered. Death looked down at it, feeling its little heartbeat slow. He crouched down, breathing directly onto the child, and knew he was likely making its final moments worse, a wretched thing like him, even if he was trying to provide a little warmth.

Then something unexpected happened. The baby quieted and bright blue eyes opened, holding Death captive in an intense stare. Death couldn’t feel things, he mused, but if it could, surely it would have been charmed by the babe who instead of recoiling from its impending end, raised a hand toward him, beckoning.

Death raised a cautious hand, one finger hooking in that tiny fist and he was surprised at how strong it was, despite the hypothermia. The child held his gaze still, just looking not pleading or frozen in horror and Death glanced at his watch again, noting the time. He looked up at the firehouse door, the sound of laughter dulled by the heavy metal. If only the girl had knocked before she ran. Death looked back to the child, its ethereal stare snagging his again.

Death raised his hand and knocked.

Inside the firehouse, a number of men made an uneasy circle around the strange man holding a bundled infant. Death hadn’t meant to stay but since he’d already gone and messed with the strings of Fate he figured he might as well assure that the child was taken care of.

“You found him on our stoop?”

“Yeah, you know, I figured some poor kid musta left him. Safe harbor and all.”

Death looked around then down at the babe who seemed to be transfixed by Death’s face. Death wondered what he saw, why he wasn’t scared. His little soul was a speck of shining light, strong and hearty though his body was frail with the beginnings of pneumonia settling in his lungs.

“Why didn’t you take him to a hospital?”

Death blinked and the man recoiled slightly. “Well, he was left here, and don’t you have EMTs on staff.”

One of the men seemed to shake himself out of a stupor and stepped closer. He shivered as Death transferred the baby into his arms, the brush of his hand on Death’s coat giving him a sudden vision of fire and smoke and a strange sense of vertigo as if falling through the floor. He coughed, moving to lay the child on the table and it immediately started to cry. Death hovered closer moving into the child’s line of sight and it settled down though still made discontented noises as he was poked and prodded.

“Did you see who dropped him off? A firefighter asked and Death shrugged, hands back in his pockets.

“She was young. Hurried off before I could say anything.”

The firefighter narrowed his eyes but didn’t question it. “Did she say anything? Why she was dumping him? If he had a name?”

Death paused, looking down at the boy whose eyes were on him bright blue as all newborns are but there was an electricity in them. Death laid a gentle hand on the child’s head, feeling the soft down of hair, the fragile skull.

“No,” Death said finally. “But his name,” Death smiled and the child seemed to smile back. “Is Castiel.”

“Cas-tee-what?” One of the fire fighter’s whispered to another and Death turned towards him, causing both men to step back.

“Castiel. The Angel of Thursday.” Death’s thumb swiped across the child’s forehead. “The Angel of Solitude.”

Death was a busy man, lots to attend to and never in the same place for very long. He worked mostly with children, preferring to be the one to usher them to the other side but as time passed he found himself returning to one place over and over.

The child he saved had been adopted almost immediately by a couple who’d lost many children of their own. Death may have pulled a few strings with Fate but the outcome was ideal. Castiel grew up well-loved and cherished by a mother and a father who understood the great gift they’d been given. They even decided to keep his name, something that pleased Death immensely. If he gave the grandparents a few extra years because of it, well that was his business.

It was a windy day at the beginning of spring when Fate suddenly shifted and Death lighted down in Chicago once more. Castiel, climbing around on the jungle gym at the local park, his babysitter on the phone several yards away was forty-five minutes from an untimely end. Death hung back, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket as he watched the scene play out, an older man making his way over. Death eyed the babysitter as the man approached Castiel, holding a leash and collar.

“My dog got out of her leash! Can you help me find her?” The man said, his face drawn in grief but Death saw into his heart and his rage rumbled as thunder in the distance.

“Oh no!” Castiel exclaimed, jumping down and touching the leash in the man’s hand. “I’ll help you find her. I got a dog too. His name is Marshmallow.”

The man offered his hand and Castiel took it.

Death was there in an instant, one hand on the man’s shoulder. When the man looked up, his mouth opened in surprise and he gasped his last breath. Castiel cocked his head to the side at the man crumpled on the ground before he looked up at Death. Death could only stare back.

“What happened?”

Death shifted from foot to foot. “He was a bad man. He wanted to take you.”

Castiel’s eyebrows rose and he looked down at the cooling body on the wood chips. “Is he going to be okay?”

Death fought a smile, eyes flicking to the reaper nearby before waving them away with the man’s wretched soul. “He’s gone to where he belongs.”

Castiel nodded and offered his hand. “Wanna swing with me?”

Death’s neck jerked in surprise but found himself carefully slotting his hand in the child’s and allowing himself to be lead off to the swing set.

“I’m Castiel. What’s your name?”

Death paused thinking back to a time when he had a name. “Dean, I think.”

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel looked up at him, his face dominated by large blue eyes. “Wait, you think? Don’t you know your own name?”

Death huffed. “Well, no one has used it in… a very long time.” He cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry, Dean.” Castiel grabbed onto one chain of a swing and turned to sit in it. “It must be lonely, no one knowing your name.”

Death sat in the swing next to the boy and pursed his lips. “Maybe a little, but it’s not so bad. My work keeps me busy.”

Castiel kicked off with his feet and began pumping his legs, reaching higher. Death lifted his head to watch. “‘Daddy says ‘all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy’ I asked him who Jack was.” Castiel let his feet drag along the ground, grinding to a halt and Death felt a smile quirk at his lips as the child’s head tipped to the side in confusion. “But he just laughed.” Castiel’s head righted itself. “Not at me though. Sometimes I’m funny and don’t realize it.”

Death surprised himself with a laugh, the sound carrying on the wind and making the group of people gathering around the corpse by the jungle gym shiver. The babysitter was still on the phone but the commotion was stealing her attention. Death turned to look at Castiel, rocking back and forth in his swing, his eyes on the horizon.

“Hey, just so you know, for next time, any stranger comes up to you asking you to go somewhere with them you kick em in the shin and scream your head off,” Death rested his palm atop the boy’s head and Castiel looked up at him, a small smile playing across his lips. “Capiche?”

Castiel gave a deep nod. “I capiche.” His eyes had found his babysitter who was now frantically searching for him. When her eyes landed on him, Death hid himself from her. “She looks really mad.”

“She’s just scared,” Death replied and Castiel looked over at him. “You wandered off and she didn’t know where you were.” And a guy dropped dead about six feet from where you were playing.

“Castiel!” The babysitter skidded to a halt in the gravel in front of Castiel’s swing, pulling him into her arms. “You scared me.” She picked him up, hooking him on her hip. “Come on we need to go.”

The child heaved a deep sigh as if resigned to his fate. “Okay.” He twisted in her arms, looking back at Death, and gave a small smile. “Goodbye, Dean.”

“Bye kiddo.”

The babysitter was already starting to walk away and she snorted, looking over her shoulder then at Castiel. “Who are you talking to.”

“Dean. He’s my new friend.”

Death sat smiling until they were out of sight.

Castiel was eight when his dog Marshmallow was going into his fifteenth year. Death generally let the new recruits handle the animals but on a scorching summer day, he found himself standing at the gate of the big craftsman on the corner where Castiel lived. He looked up at the second-story window, the one he knew to be the young boy’s who was getting bigger every day.

They’d met many times over since that first encounter in the park and to Death’s surprise, Castiel always remembered him and knew him by name. Now seemed to be no exception, the front door opening to release Castiel into the world. His dark hair was an unruly swirl beneath the baseball cap he wore, his matching t-shirt proclaiming he played for the Mustangs, sponsored by Nally Ford.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel said with a small smile as he approached. Death smiled back but his eyes caught on the white ball of fluff that was attempting to make his way down the porch steps to follow the boy.

Death let himself in the gate, striding forward and they met halfway, Castiel looking up into Death’s face while Death peered down into his. There was no fear there, no anxiety. There never had been, a wonder Death never could truly comprehend. Marshmallow gave a low growl. Death glanced down at the old dog, barely any teeth left in his head but ready to bite at the smallest provocation. That was about right.

“Marshmallow. No.” Castiel looked down at the dog then back up into the face of Death. “He’s just grumpy because he doesn’t feel good.” Castiel watched as Death crouched down, hand reaching. The growl ceased as Death’s hand hovered over the dog’s head and Castiel squatted down to pet him, hands gentle around the old dog’s ears.

“Yeah, about that,” Death began softly. “This is going to be hard for you to understand, Cas, but Marshmallow is very old.” As he said it, the dog’s eyes sank closed. Castiel rubbed his ears.

“I know.”

Death swallowed hard, his hand moving to hover over the dog’s back and Marshmallow’s legs gave out, his body rolling to the side as he began to pant. Castiel rubbed his belly. “And when dogs get very old, well, they have to go.” Castiel looked up at him. “And when that happens, someone comes to get them.”

Castiel looked down at the dog who was panting, tongue lolling out the side of its mouth. He ran his fingers through the curly white fur at his side. “Not the dog catcher…”

Death chuckled. “No, no not the dog catcher. Someone who helps them make the transition to their next journey.”

Castiel continued to play with Marshmallow’s fur. “Who?”

Death licked his lips, sucked in a breath he didn’t need. “They look like ordinary folks, sometimes you can see them, other times you can’t.”

“Like you?”

Death blinked and took a moment to marvel at the feeling of surprise, something he hadn’t felt in eons. “Yes, like me.”

Castiel looked up at him, blue eyes steady but solemn. “You’re here to take him, aren’t you?”

Death swallowed hard, the sorrow in the boy’s voice cutting him deeper than tears ever could. “Yeah, Cas. I’m sorry.”

Castiel sniffled a bit as he looked down, petting down Marshmallow’s side. “You’ll look after him? Wherever you take him? He won’t be alone, right?”

Death placed a hand on the back of Castiel’s neck and waited for a shiver that never came. Finally, he spoke. “Yes, of course, Cas.”

Castiel sucked in a deep breath and sat down on his butt, folding his legs so they butted up against Marshmallow’s legs. “Can I have just a few more minutes?”

Death glanced at his watch and nodded. They sat there, young boy and ancient entity as the dog’s breath became more shallow. Castiel dug his fingers into the thick curls of Marshmallow’s side and folded himself in half, pressing his face to its chest. The dog fussed attempted to lick at Castiel’s ball cap. Castiel breathed in deep and Death found himself doing the same, smelling cut grass, sweat and the musky odor of an animal nearing its end.

“It’s time, Cas,” Death murmured, his voice low and Castiel lifted his head, face tear-stained now, but he wiped them away with the back of his hand. He placed his hands on the dog’s side, looked up at Death, and nodded.

Death allowed the dog to sniff the back of his hand, accepting the feeble lick before he carded his hand through the curls at the top of his head. Castiel’s hands that had been rising and falling with the dog’s labored breath stopped. Death curled his hand and brought it to his chest, holding it there for the feeble soul to feel safe on its journey. His other hand when to the top of Castiel’s head.

“Go get your father. He’ll help you with the ritual.”

“Can’t you stay?” Castiel asked, blue eyes shining with unshed tears and if Death had a heart it would have broken.

“I’ve gotta get Marshmallow to where he belongs.” Dean knuckled away a tear that was making its way down Castiel’s cheek.

“Okay,” Castiel lowered his head, looking at the cooling body of his beloved pet. He looked back up. “Goodbye, Dean.”

Death was unprepared for the boy to wrap his arms around him in a tight squeeze before getting up and walking back towards the house.

Castiel was twenty when his fate changed again and Death nearly didn’t make it in time. In the back seat of a car, driving way too fast down a dark winding road, Death appeared next to him, his face striated in moonlight. Castiel jumped, his reflexes slower with the alcohol in his veins.

“Dean?”

“Cover your face, kid.” Death muttered as he braced his feet against the seat in front of him and threw out an arm.

When they hit the tree at 63 miles per hour Castiel’s body slammed into his arm and Death could feel the ribs break, felt the punctured lung as if it were his own. The driver was halfway through the windshield, another reaper already there to take him. Death waved them away as blood slowly filled Castiel’s lungs.

He coughed, choking on the acrid liquid, unable to get a full breath. His hand twisted in Death’s leather jacket, tugging, blue eyes wide and for the first time Death saw fear there. He couldn’t stand it. He reached past the headrest in front of him, touched the mangled face of the boy there and he immediately stopped breathing.

“You can’t do that!” A voice sharp from outside the car and Death nearly jumped out of his skin when he turned his head to look out the window and found the small blond woman standing there with her clipboard of names. “It’s the other boy’s time, Dean.”

Death glared out at her, throwing open the door. “You got your soul. Get out of here.”

“You reaped the wrong-“

“The hell I did,” Death yelled and every animal in the forest quieted, the wind through the trees died down.

The two of them watched as headlights appeared down the road, slowing when the driver saw the wreckage. Death and Fate stood side by side on the shoulder of the road as the good Samaritan talked to Castiel through the back window, promising him everything would be alright.

“He’ll make it.” Death heaved a sigh, hearing the sirens in the distance.

“Just barely,” Fate muttered, consulting her clipboard. “One of these days you’re going to run out of favors.”

Death turned to look at her. “Not any time soon.”

It was three days later in his half-empty dorm room that Castiel attempted to take his own life. Death arrived just as Castiel kicked the chair out of the way, his body falling with an extension cord wrapped tight around his neck right into Death’s arms. A quick flick of his pocket knife and Death had freed Castiel, laying him gently down on the floor as he coughed and sobbed.

“No! Take me! I want to die!” Castiel twisted onto his knees, grabbing onto Death’s legs and hugging them tightly. “Please. I can’t take it. The guilt, it’s too much!”

Death ran his fingers through Castiel’s unruly hair. “It’s not your time.”

“It was my time,” Castiel wiped at his face, fury in his eyes as he glared up at the ancient entity. “I heard you and that lady talking. She said you reaped the wrong one!”

“You hit your head pretty hard, kid.”

Castiel wiped at his face furiously, getting his trembling legs under him. “I know what you are. What you do.”

Death brought himself to his full height, leveling Castiel with his most pensive stare. “Do you?”

“I’ve always known,” Castiel spit. “And I never cared. You were always my…” Castiel trailed swallowing hard. “My friend. But this, I can’t take this Dean.”

“Why can’t you just be grateful,” Death huffed holding out his arms.

Castiel’s face went slack with shock. “You kill the man I love instead of me and I’m supposed to be grateful?”

Death’s mouth popped open, surprised again, that made twice in a single decade now. “Your… the man you loved? Wow, how did I miss that?”

“You miss a lot of things,” Castiel spit, his eyes hard.

Death rubbed his mouth. “When-“

“Since I was a child,” Castiel heaved a sigh. “Look don’t try to change the subject. I was dying already, Dean!” Castiel’s fists were clenched at his sides. “Why didn’t you let me go? Why’d you have to take him? He was everything to me. How could you not know that?”

Death rubbed the back of his neck, “Life isn’t really under my purview, kid.”

“What about love then?” Castiel got right in his face, nose to nose, and Death stood stock still.

“I know it when I see it.”

“Then you must have been blind that night.” Castiel spun away, running his hands through his hair. “I can’t do this. Please. Take me.”

“No.”

“Why? Why not?”

“I told you. It’s not your time.”

“Are you sure it’s not because you have some weird obsession with me?” Castiel strode right up into what a human would call their personal space. “What is it about me huh? Why me? Why don’t you latch on to some other poor bastard?”

Death swallowed hard. “I can go if you’d like.”

Castiel let out a humorless laugh. “Stay. Go. What do I care?” He let himself fall onto his bed, face buried in his pillow while Death stood watch.

Death didn’t see much of Castiel after that or more like Castiel didn’t see much of him. He’d check in every now and then, saw him graduate college, move to the east coast, fall in love and get his heart broken only to fall in love again. Through it all Death stood watch, sometimes with Fate at his side, like at Castiel’s wedding.

“I could step in,” Fate murmured, an offer she wasn’t likely to make twice but Death shook his head, watching as Castiel beamed with happiness after kissing his husband.

It wasn’t long after that they met again in a hospital just north of Chicago. It was nearing midnight and no one was around. Castiel was sitting with his mother, his husband and father had gone home hours before but Castiel insisted on staying. Neither could understand why Castiel refused to leave her side but didn’t question it. Castiel was a good son who loved his mother very much.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel said as Death hovered in the doorway. “I was wondering when you’d show up.”

“I tried to wait for you to leave,” Death mumbled, looking down at his boots as he tapped his toe on the floor.

“Why?”

Death looked up and found Castiel’s head canted to the side, and he couldn’t help but smile. “We didn’t exactly part on the best of terms when we last spoke.”

Castiel looked down at his mother’s hand, so small and frail in his own. He cleared his throat. “You were right. I should have been grateful.”

“It was a callous thing to say when you were grieving.”

Castiel snorted. “That’s true.” He huffed a sigh. “But ultimately you were right. I didn’t love him. I didn’t know what love was then. Not that kind of love anyway.” Castiel ran his thumb over the thin blue veins of his mother’s hand. “How much longer does she have?”

Death checked his watch. “We’ve got a few more minutes.”

“Then sit.”

Death did, across the bed from Castiel and took in the changes, the strands of gray in his hair, laugh lines crinkling around his eyes and mouth.

“You know you look exactly the same as I remember you when I was four.”

Death grinned. “All that clean living.”

Castiel snorted, a grin pulling at his own lips before it faded. “You’ll take care of her?”

Death nodded. “Of course.”

Castiel squinted, opening his mouth then closing it again. Death heaved a sigh. “Go ahead. Ask whatever you want to ask me.”

Castiel’s cheeks bloomed a lovely pink that Death would see in every sunrise from that moment on. “How’s Marshmallow?”

Death blinked. “I give you one question to ask me whatever you want and you ask about your damn dog?”

Castiel frowned. “I loved that dog.”

Death rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Marshmallow is doing great. Has lots of doggy friends.”

A small smile tugged at Castiel’s lips. “Good. I hope Mom gets to see him.”

“I’ll make sure she does.”

“I’m ready.”

Death gave a small nod, waiting a beat to watch Castiel breath in steadily, his eyes on his mother’s face. Death reached forward, fingers brushing a white curl from her forehead before resting his palm there gently. One of the monitors began to scream. A nurse bustled in quickly, checking in and ultimately turning off the sound, standing by as the old woman took her last breaths. Death took her soul and cradled it to his chest.

“Take care of her,” Castiel whispered and Death gave him a solemn nod before he went on his way.

It wasn’t long after that Fate dealt Castiel another bad hand and Death had arrived to do his duty. Castiel’s husband laid prone on a hospice bed, his once strong body frail and hairless, ravaged by a disease Death hated almost more than he hated himself. Death came into the room unannounced, stood by Castiel’s side as silent tears ran down his face.

Death checked his watch.

“I can feel you.”

Death nearly fell over in shock. Third time in as many decades. Damn.

“Don’t hide, Dean. I’ve been expecting you.”

“I tried.” Death placed a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “I tried but I’m out of favors.”

“It’s okay,” Castiel sniffled, his own hand coming up to cover the cool one on his shoulder and Death felt the warmth as if it were the sun. “How much time do we have?”

“Couple minutes.”

Castiel nodded, leaning forward and placing a hand on his husband’s shoulder, giving him a light shake. He gasped awake, eyes hazy with pain and medication but something in them still blazed when they landed on Castiel.

“Honey, I want you to meet someone. Can you see him? Next to me.” Castiel turned, looking up at Death, and licked his dry lips.

“Yes,” Castiel’s husband croaked. “He’s just as handsome as you said.”

Castiel let out a watery laugh, glancing up at Death who was not blushing as he reached up to rub his ear. “He’s here for you.”

Castiel’s husband nodded solemnly. “About time.”

Castiel let out a quiet sob and immediately tried to shove it back into his mouth. His husband squeezed his hand as Death squeezed his shoulder.

“Come on now. This ain’t the end. I’ll see you. Hopefully not too soon?” Castiel’s husband lifted his brows and Death gave him a small smile.

“Not if I have anything to do with it.”

Castiel was leaning over, pressing his forehead to his husband’s and breathing slow in his nose and out his mouth, barely hanging on. Death stepped forward, hand covering the one that Castiel held. One final gasp and then the room was silent. Castiel gave a soft cry, feeling warmth rush through him, love and light and something so bright it almost burned. And then it was gone.

Death pulled the soul close to his chest, his other hand lighting on Castiel’s shoulder. Castiel glanced up into the face of Death but was immediately distracted by the small ball of light in his hand. Castiel looked up and Death nodded in answer to his question. Castiel let go of the hand in his and wrapped his arms around himself as the tears came hot and fast.

“Can you please stay?”

Death shifted from foot to foot. “I need to take care of him. But I can come back.”

“Please hurry.”

Death wasn’t really the type to hang around any one place too long but for years after Castiel’s husband’.s transition, he found himself irrevocably drawn to Castiel. He’d always been to a certain extent but the man’s grief had worn down all his defenses, all his excuses to stay away. For once Death was welcomed into a home with open arms.

They sat on the couch and watched bad television. Death had a strange obsession with Dr. Sexy that Castiel found hilarious. Death tolerated all of Castiel’s terrible nature documentaries. It was one night as Castiel was going up the stairs to bed that he paused, looking back at Death who was putting the dishes in the dishwasher.

“I love you, Dean. You know that right?”

Death stood stock still and he’d be goddamned if it hadn’t happened again. He looked up to find Castiel just standing there on the third step, gaze just as intense as it had been when he’d first laid eyes on him as an infant. He didn’t have to say it. Neither of them did so Castiel just gave him a small smile and continued his ascent up the stairs. And that night, Death followed.

It was both the worst and best day of his tenure when Castiel’s time was finally up. Fate in her fussy suit with her obnoxious clipboard arrived to stand at the end of the hospital bed where Castiel lay, Death at his side.

“No more favors. No more tricks,” Fate said softly and Death looked away from the face of his beloved, aged and creased as it was now, while his was permanently stuck as youthful and smooth.

“Can I keep him?” Death asked, staring into the eyes of Fate and daring to hope. “I know it’s not ever been done. I know this is a one-person gig but…” Death looked back upon the only face he’d ever loved, into the only eyes that had ever truly seen him. “Just this once, can I keep him?”

Fate gave him a small smile. “Yes, Dean. He’s yours to keep.”

So Death and his companion were joined at the human’s crossing, bound by Fate herself to walk through eternity together. Sure they quarreled, sometimes even spending a few decades apart but the string that tethered them was unbreakable, a fact Death loved to remind his younger counterpart of.

It’s said that when a couple dies within hours of each other they’re always accompanied by another couple, two men, handsome and young, looking more in love than any cosmic entities had a right to be.

#suptober21 #destiel #supernatural #fanfic: supernatural #deancas #character death #the dog dies sorry #writing by me

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curls-cat · 3 years

Text

Sugar/Spice; Snips/Snails

for @grimmtober day 1: Candy! Also on AO3 and ff.net under the same name. but I can’t link it if I want this to show up in the tags. :/ AU: Sabrina grows up in Ferryport Landing.

There’s a boy in the woods. Sabrina sees him, even if none of the grown-ups do. He’s bigger than she is, with curly gold hair like hers, wearing a big green hoodie. He keeps looking at her through the trees and grinning. There are fireflies around him, even during the daytime, even now that summer’s all the way over.

Sabrina knows better than to go outside herself. Mamma and Daddy and Granny all say it’s too dangerous, that she’s too little and sometimes people are mean and might hurt her. And even when people aren’t mean, the woods is really big, and she could get lost so easy. Mr. Canis could find her, but someone mean might find her first.

But there’s a boy in the woods. And there aren’t a lot of other kids in Ferryport Landing. Especially not ones she can talk to (in preschool there’s Bella and Natalie and Toby and Wendell, but only Wendell is allowed to be her friend. And everything else is secrets, secrets, secrets—don’t tell anyone about Mr. Canis, Sabrina, or about what being a Grimm means, or about why you’re extra excited to get to first grade and see Ms. Snow). And all Sabrina’s Halloween candy disappeared last night.

Sabrina wanted to be Alice in Wonderland for Halloween, but her parents said No and Granny said Politics and didn’t explain what that meant, so Sabrina was Stephanie from Lazy Town instead and had to wear an itchy pink wig the whole night and none of the grown-ups knew who she was supposed to be. And now all her candy’s gone and nobody believed her when she said she didn’t eat all of it.

So the next time the fireflies come out, when it’s just starting to get dark and the shadows from the woods reach all the way to the house, Sabrina follows them. They’re pretty, even though up close they’re too big to be lightning bugs, and they glow too bright. She didn’t really think they were bugs.

She follows them as they dance between the long shadows of the trees. She didn’t have time to put on her shoes before she left, so her socks are getting wet in the grass. It’s gross. They lead her right to the edge of the woods, and then they scatter.

Sabrina is, for a moment, alone in the gathering dark of the woods. Nearly all the leaves have fallen, and it’s gray and brown and so, so quiet. No birds or bugs. No Mamma or Daddy or Granny calling for her to come inside. She can see the house through the trees, and it looks warm and safe and like it’s calling her back.

“Scared?”

Sabrina spins around and pulls her hands up the way Ms. White taught her—you have to protect your face—and sees the boy, sitting in a tree a few feet above her. Up close, he’s different than she thought. Still a boy, still a kid like her, but older. Taller. And dirty. He’s holding her candy in his hand. She knows it’s hers because it’s still in her plastic jack-o-lantern with her initials on the bottom in her very own handwriting.

“I’m not scared of you,” she tells him.

He grins, flashes too-sharp teeth. “Sure. That’s why you jumped a mile high when I said something, little girl.”

“I’m not a little girl!” she says, even though she is, and she knows it. “I’m a big sister!” She balls her fists tighter. “And that’s my candy.”

“Finders keepers,” he says. He unwraps a pack of oreos and pops them in his mouth. His fingernails are too sharp, too.

“You’re rude,” she says, but she puts her fists down. He doesn’t seem mean, just… messy. And gross. And mean, but she said that already.

“So’re you,” he says, and hands her a pack of Starbursts.

Sabrina accepts her candy, unwraps it. Inside there’s two pink ones and an orange one. She wrinkles her nose and eats the orange one. She’s not supposed to have candy before dinner.

She’s also not supposed to talk to strangers. Especially not strangers who are ab-so-lute-ly Everafters.

“Why’d you take my candy?” She sits on the ground. Her socks are already dirty, might as well get mud on her overalls, too. The boy won’t care. He’s dirtier than she is.

“I was hungry,” he says. “I just told the pixies to get me food.”

Not fireflies. Pixies. Sabrina squints at him. “You’re not supposed to talk about magic.” She doesn’t know what a pixie is, but she knows for sure it’s magic.

“I thought this town was full of magic,” the boy says. “A ‘haven for the homeless,’ that’s what your ancestor said when he convinced all of us to follow him over here. Or a prison, if you listen to anybody else.”

“There’s people, too,” Sabrina informs him. “Lots of ‘em. Normal people. Boring people. I have twelve in my preschool class. And they’ve all got parents. Some have brothers and sisters, too.”

The boy looks suitably impressed. Then he wrinkles his nose. “Boring,” he tells her. “I was hoping this place would be fun. But it’s got rules too, huh?”

“Everywhere has rules,” Sabrina says. “My daddy says they’re to keep people safe.”

The boy snorts. “To keep you from having fun, more like.” He pops a Reese’s into his mouth.

Something occurs to Sabrina, then. “How’d you know about my an-cestor?” The new word feels strange on her tongue. She thinks it means like your grandpa, but extra.

The boy nods in the direction of the house. “I watched him build that place. Slowed him down, too. Plus I’ve been watching.”

“I know,” Sabrina says. “I saw you.”

“What’s your name?” he asks. “Other than Grimm. Your first name.”

“Sabrina,” she offers readily. “What’s yours?”

He tosses her another pack of Starbursts. “Puck.”

Sabrina brings Puck food for a few days. She likes keeping him secret. Everyone’s busy with the new baby, and Sabrina loves Daphne, sure, but babies are boring and she doesn’t know why all the grown-ups care so much about someone who can’t even do anything. She also feels a little left out, maybe, and it’s nice having someone who’s hers. They talk. He’s a prince, he says. He’s exiled, he says. He’s famous, he says. He’s the coolest. He doesn’t have to say that part. Sabrina thinks so, too.

They spend afternoons in the cool dark woods, and Puck takes her flying, because he’s not just too sharp, he’s also got wings, because he’s a fairy, which Sabrina has never met before. They share her Halloween candy. He turns into animals, and he listens to her tell him about preschool. She’s learning to read, a little. She can read the street sign for their road. Puck thinks reading and books are boring. She yells at him about it.

That’s the other thing about Puck. If she gets mad at him, he doesn’t tell her to stop throwing a tantrum or go to her room like her parents, and he doesn’t start crying or tattle to someone like the other kids at preschool. He yells back. And then they’re friends again.

Mr. Canis is the one who finds out. He follows her to the woods and says, “I wondered where all the caramels went.”

“This is Puck,” Sabrina says. If a grown-up did have to find them, she’s glad it was Mr. Canis. He’s not a regular grown-up, not the kind who tells her what to do and gets worried or talks down to her. He just talks, and listens. Sometimes he says weird stuff, but other than that, he’s almost like a regular person. “He was hungry.”

“I know who he is,” Mr. Canis says. “I’ve been watching him.” He looks down at Sabrina. “What I didn’t know was that you knew him.”

“He took my Halloween candy,” Sabrina says. “Nobody listened.”

Mr. Canis doesn’t say anything. He looks Puck up and down.

Puck stares right back at him, then, at long last, says, “Don’t get mad at her.”

“I am not angry,” Mr. Canis says. “You should come inside and meet the family.”

Puck wrinkles his nose. “I’m not going to move back inside. I’ve finally broken out of being civilized.”

“I am not asking you to,” Mr. Canis says. “But inside there is food that will not rot your teeth.”

“Everafters don’t get cavities.”

Mr. Canis laughs. It sounds like a dog barking. It always does. “I can assure you we do.” He shows Puck his own too-sharp teeth, points at a shiny silver spot in one of them. “I had this filled myself.”

Puck’s eyes go wide, and his hand comes up to his face. He gives Mr. Canis another long look. “What kind of food?”

“Weird food,” Sabrina informs him. “Granny’s cooking tonight.”

Puck thinks for a second, then shrugs. He grins at Sabrina. “I like weird.”

Puck keeps living in the woods. Sabrina has to tell a grown-up before she goes to see him, now. The grown-ups all have a long conversation after Mr. Canis tells them she’s been going in the woods to visit a Strange Boy (he’s not a strange boy, she tries to tell them, but nobody listens). After, her parents sit her down and have A Talk with her about Danger and how Not All Everafters Are Nice. She listens, even if she thinks they’re coming at it wrong. Puck isn’t nice. She doesn’t want him to be nice.

They grow.

At age nine, Sabrina runs out of the house, ignoring the sound of her dad shouting after her. This time, at least, she’s wearing shoes. She heads straight for Puck’s trash throne. The pixies greet her on the way, rising out of the shadows of another gathering dark, as they always do. She appreciates it, though she barely needs it, can find her way to Puck without any help.

“What’s Hanky yelling about?” Puck asks instead of greeting her. He’s sitting, as usual, on his porcelain throne atop a mountain of broken furniture.

Sabrina throws him a bag of fun size Milky Ways—it’s the family’s Halloween candy, and her mom’s going to be mad that she has to buy another bag, but Sabrina doesn’t care. She doesn’t care about anything and it’s not like they’ll even be here in a few weeks and her parents don’t care about what she wants, anyway, so why should she care about them?

Puck catches the candy, opens it, and pops one, fully wrapped, into his mouth. He spits the wrapper out onto the ground a few seconds later, covered in spit and melted chocolate. He does this a lot. Sabrina always calls him gross and makes a stink about it. Today all she can think about is how she’s not gonna be able to see this anymore in a few days, because—

Puck notices her silence. “What, Grimm? Finally seen sense about ‘the environment’?”

Sabrina isn’t sure she wanted him to notice. She thinks maybe she wanted him to act like everything was normal and maybe then she could pretend it really was, for a bit. But she sort of also wants someone to listen, someone she can yell at who won’t talk about safety. Someone who cares about what she wants, even if he pretends not to, instead of pretending to when they don’t, like her parents.

“We’re moving,” she says, and she keeps her voice flat, even, because if she doesn’t, she’s going to cry.

Puck stops chewing and stares at her. “You can’t. There needs to be a Grimm in Ferryport Landing.”

“Not all of us,” Sabrina says. “Granny’s staying. But Mom and Dad, and me, and Daphne… we’re leaving. Dad says town is ‘too dangerous.’”

“This is about the stupid ‘Scarlet Hand’ or whatever.” It’s not a question.

“Did they talk to you?” Sabrina asks.

“Nah,” Puck says. “Everyone knows I wouldn’t.”

“Yeah,” Sabrina says. Because they’re friends. He’s her best friend, better than Wendell, even, even though Wendell goes to school with her and they’re in soccer together and he gave her a valentine last year that he’d picked out especially for her, the only one in the pack with a lollipop and a sticker.

“I won’t join anything that I can’t be the leader of,” Puck adds, because he can’t just be honest, ever. That’s okay, though. Sabrina understands. Honesty is hard.

She sits down on the edge of the pool, feels rough concrete under her hands, looks at the murky water, the level dropped low enough that she can dangle her feet in and only the very bottoms of her shoes touch it as they sway back and forth.

“When?” Puck asks.

“By the end of the year,” Sabrina says. “Mom got a job, and Dad asked me if I wanted—” her breath hitches, half anger and half rage— “if I wanted to help him pick out an apartment. Like this was exciting.”

“You could run away,” Puck suggests.

Sabrina laughs without humor.

“Plenty of woods,” Puck says. “You don’t have to stay here. Hey, I know! You could go up to the asylum with the other crazy little girls!”

Sabrina halfheartedly throws a piece of concrete at him. It clatters down the side of his trash mountain nowhere near him and rolls to a stop nearly at her other hand, still resting on cracked cement.

“Mr. Canis would find me,” Sabrina says, at length. “And they’d just make me go, anyway.”

“How? The old lady can’t leave, and neither can he. Just run away again before one of your parents comes to get you.”

“And leave Daphne?”

The younger girl practically worships the both of them. Losing Puck is going to be hard enough for her, but losing Puck and Sabrina… It’ll break her heart. And there’s no question about bringing Daphne with them.

For a long time, neither of them say anything. Sabrina had sort of been hoping Puck would have an answer. A real one, one that would work.

“You can visit,” he says at last. “They can’t keep you away forever.”

“Yeah,” she says. Because Mom had said that, too. Said that they could come back on weekends and over holidays, as long as Granny said things seemed safe.

She looks up at the boy she’s known for half her life, who’s been her best friend almost as long, who she’s going to stop being able to see soon. He’s been exactly the same the whole time she’s known him. When she sees him next, she’s going to be closer to his height. She might even outgrow him.

She knew it might happen. They don’t talk about it, but they both know. Someday, Sabrina’s going to have to be an adult, and Puck won’t. She’s not sure she wants to be an adult, but she doesn’t think she wants to be stuck, either. Doesn’t want to be powerless forever.

There’s nothing else to do, though, so she rolls her head to look at Puck upside-down, who’s eating another Milky Way, and says, “Pass me one of those.”

There are Everafters in New York City, of course. Sabrina sneaks out over the weekends, meets Puck’s brother. Gets in trouble. Finds out the Scarlet Hand is here, too. Tells her dad, hopes it’ll get them moved home. It doesn’t, it just gets her in a different kind of trouble. She doesn’t care, keeps sneaking out to get in the right kind of trouble, the kind that means she’s part of her family, still sort of connected to Puck.

In three years, when the barrier comes crumbling down, and the Everafters start trying, really and truly, to take over the world, it pays off. Because now nowhere is safe. And she wants to tell her dad she told him so, but she’s busy trying to watch the news that her parents won’t let her see and find out if her friends are safe and everything is loud and angry and dangerous and she tried to prepare but it wasn’t enough.

They still make her go to school. It’s stupid. None of this matters, and she tells them that over and over, but they make her go anyway, and when she’s proven right because there’s a lockdown on the third day since the Everafters declared war, she’s just angry about it.

She’s hiding in the bathroom with two other girls who got caught between classes, and the other two are crying, when noises come down the hall in their direction. Sabrina looks around for something she can use as a weapon.

The door swings open.

Sabrina prepares herself for a fight.

She’s hit in the face before she can do anything, by a small projectile—a bullet? Since when do Everafters use guns? She’d have thought getting shot would hurt more.

She looks down. No blood on the ground.

Just a green skittle.

She doesn’t have to look up to know who’s going to say “Hey, Grimm.” She doesn't know what's coming next, but as soon as she hears Puck's voice, she knows the can handle it. Together.

#sisters grimm #the sisters grimm #sabrina grimm #grimmtober #grimmtober 2021 #puckabrina #if you squint. it's preslash

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