#hoping that As The Spirit Heals writing will be easier for me again. i was churning out like 4k chapters every 2 days b4

[orcelito]

I'll finally have some free time tomorrow so I'm hoping i can actually get started on the next chapter of ITNL. I have a solid plan & it'll probably be easy to write once I get started with it... but Before That, I gotta get the ball rolling, & that's always the hardest part 😭

Gonna try tho. If I don't get to wolfwood in the next 2 weeks I'm going to scream

[senualothbrok]

Hello friend!! I have been thinking about undiagnosed sorcerer Gale a lot lately, so I am making it your problem too.

You only gradually become aware of it, and once you are you wonder how you hadn't noticed. Maybe it's the passage of time, each day one step away from the nautiloid and the Netherbrain and all of it--each day that much more distance from Gale's last audience with Mystra. The burden of the Orb hadn't been yours, but it had been heavy enough that you felt lighter when you saw his face as he stepped out that portal. Maybe, like the wounds you both bring back with you to Waterdeep, your mind needed the chance to heal before it could process even more.

More in this case is living with Gale. It had been one thing being on the road, chased from danger to danger; all you'd been able to think those nights you'd collapsed into his tent with him was we made it, with a fervent hope he'd be next to you when you woke and still next to you the night following. Now, you lie down with him night after night and wake up to him morning after morning, and as you let yourself accept that this is how things will be, you start to notice.

The tower is suffused with magic.

It's not only the spells and wards that Gale has woven into the very heart of it, or the numerous enchantments he's created to make life easier, or the artifacts and books you've brought home with you. It's Gale himself.

Surrounded by magic and slow to shed the exhaustion that's clung to you since Baldur's Gate, you need some time to sense the difference, but once you do it's there, a touch on your sleeve or a whisper to catch your attention. When you search for it you can't see it, there's no breeze to stir the curtains or the profusion of flowers Gale brings home day after day. You don't smell that dreaded rosewater or taste cloying honey-sweetness on your tongue. It's a sense that goes beyond sense, speaking to the parts of you that lie under your bones and between your nerves--it's something that escapes your words just as you think you've found the ones to describe it. The sense of him wraps around you like a comforting memory, smoothing its unfelt fingers across your unquiet spirit; the happiness you feel, the life that suffuses you, doesn't compel you but invites you just to be.

It's different when you're in bed together, like tonight, when Gale is salting your skin with kisses. Tonight he's all around you, flowing into and filling every part of you like water, Gale himself spilling over at the edges. He's not glowing but you feel alight with him, woven into him, his threads twisting around yours to draw you close. You're not in one of his illusions--the world around you is very real, if hazy and distant, and Gale's body is hungry, solid flesh and bone against yours. The sensation doesn't vanish even when Gale pauses to ask you what's wrong and you realize you're staring at him.

"I can feel you," you say awkwardly.

"I'd hope so," Gale says laughingly, though he notices your uncertainty and sits up, bracing himself back on his haunches. "What is it?"

You explain as best you can, though every word out of your mouth sounds more foolish and inaccurate than the last. You find yourself tangled in a thicket of your own making and are just about to panic your way out of it when Gale says, faintly embarrassed, "Oh. That--that hasn't happened in quite some time. Years."

I'm so sorry, friend, that it's taken me so long to reply to your once again beautiful piece. I feel like my writing is pretty awful at the moment so I do apologise. I just wanted to get it out though (despite being in a weird creative space and putting off writing a little bit!)

Thank you so much, as always, for your exquisite work <3 ---

You do not need to ask. There is an intuition that exists between you, so that you often know his intentions before he speaks, and he senses your desire before you tell him. You know that part of this comes from the joining of your souls, sealed by your love. But you suspect the other part comes from something altogether different, that sensation that you cannot yet name.

“Admittedly, it wasn’t as innocuous as what you’ve described, back then.”

He pulls you closer, as if he needs your skin on his, even though you feel his being like a flame inside you.

“By all accounts, there was more force to it. It was more of an explosion, if you would.”

You arch an eyebrow. He flashes you that languid half smirk that drives you wild. You wonder if he feels your arousal as his own, like two rivers flowing into each other. He watches you with dancing eyes, savouring your reaction.

“Not that kind of explosion.”

You laugh a little. His lips are smooth and warm as they graze the tips of your fingers. For a while, you fumble for words to explain, ever grateful for his patience.

“It feels like a spell,” you manage eventually. “Even when you’re not casting. Like I’m floating in the Weave, except that you’re the Weave. You’re all around me, inside me, everywhere.”

He gazes at you, fingering this chin absently. And then he nods. There is a kind of solemnity in the gesture, the slight gathering of Gale’s brow. You wonder how long Gale has hidden this part of his nature, or shied away from examining it too closely.

“When I was a child, I learned to control it. But with you…”

He buries his head into the crook of your neck, the heat of his sigh blazing like your pulse. There is a force to it, then, an ache to his longing. You feel it like a flood.

“I want all of you,” he rasps. “And I want to give you all of me. Perhaps that’s why.”

Your open mouth finds his, wet and desperate. His breaths are ragged, swirling into yours like a clouds swallowing clouds. He is a warm bath, lapping at every inch of you. You are about to drown yourself in him when he draws back, so abruptly you feel bereft.

“Does it disturb you?”

The wavering in his eyes almost makes you wince. Traces of his uncertainty, the measure against which he still judges himself. You shake your head sharply, immediately.

“No.” You press yourself against him, swelling with tenderness and desire. “The more I find out about you, the more I love you. Nothing could make me love you less.”

He hesitates for a moment. You feel, as well as see, the last of his doubt fading. His smile is a ripple of light through you, a pleasure almost as intense as pain.

“That’s a relief,” he whispers, as his fingers flutter downwards, and his taste becomes your own.

[littlejuicebox]

Midnight Chimes 3 / Luck

Pairing: Astarion x F!Reader Warlock.

Word Count: 1,910

Summary/Setting: You and Astarion have met before, though you think it meant more to you than it did to him. You are an apothecary shop owner that has recently gained some mysterious Warlock powers; Astarion is, in your eyes, a rake that you wouldn’t trust as far as you can throw him. You two run into one another again after the nautiloid crash.

Preview:

The vampire couldn’t remember anything about you, at first. It was as if the parasite had unlocked the recollection, delving into some subconscious vault of memories Astarion could not access himself. He hadn’t remembered you, prior to the parasite’s assistance, but had held onto pieces of information he'd learned from the conversation. The prickled texture of the grass underneath his palm distracts Astarion as he vaguely listens to his two human traveling companions discuss healing potions – you needed to find a cauldron and distillery set to start concocting things for the journey ahead.  As his two campmates chat, Astarion has more flashes from the conversation he'd had with you in the Drunken Dragon. Everything about that night returns to him in a hazy film, almost like recalling bits of a dream.

Warnings: eventual smut and gore 18+ / in game spoilers / angst, trauma, fluff / GUYS THIS CHAPTER HAS GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF ABUSE AND S-CIDE IDEATION DO NOT READ IF IT'S TRIGGERING TO YOU OR YOU ARE NOT IN THE RIGHT HEADSPACE

Notes: This chapter was hard for me to write; I teared up and had to take a break for a few days because I am quite sensitive. If you are sensitive like me, please proceed with caution.

“You are late, Astarion.”

“Master, I’m sorry, I—“

“I do not have time, nor patience for your excuses, boy!” Cazador hisses, snatching the younger vampire up by his flounced collar.

Astarion hears the fabric of his shirt tear as his master shakes him repeatedly. Cazador is shouting; from this proximity, Astarion can smell the rotten blood on his breath. The Vampire Lord is berating him ferociously, causing sprays of putrid spittle to hit the spawn’s face with every word.

But Astarion isn’t there anymore. He’s retreated into the confines of his own mind. He’s replaying the conversation he’d had with you, before the bell tower chimed midnight and he’d fled from the Drunken Dragon.

“DO YOU HEAR ME, BOY?!” Cazador is roaring now, lifting Astarion up to the tips of his toes with unhinged fury. The gap in the spawn’s shirt rips open further. 

He’s a ragdoll in his master’s grip, flopping about almost lifelessly with deadened eyes and a blank visage. The pale elf learned long ago that expending his energy fighting, begging, or crying always lead to the same result. It was useless.

So why bother with it at all? It was easier to retreat within himself, hide, and hope he wouldn’t remember most of his encounters with Cazador, in the end.

The lack of response from Astarion enrages Cazador further, and in one swift motion he hurls the silver-haired elf onto the floor. The younger vampire lands with a resounding crack of bone – something inside the elf, apart from his spirit, has broken. Astarion would wince or cry, if he’d noticed it at all.

The vial and business card combination from earlier this evening tumbled out of the pale elf’s pocket during the commotion. Cazador snatches the small token up immediately; nothing that came home with the spawn had ever been allowed to stay with them.

Everything they found while outside of the palace became his; Cazador claimed this was his right as their master. The spawn did not even have rights to the clothes on their back. Astarion’s shirt had been torn by his master, restitched by his own hands, and then torn yet again more times than he could be bothered to count.

The Vampire Lord doesn’t bother to read the card; he simply crushes the vial in his hand and throws the resulting shards of glass at Astarion. The card is thrown into the flames of the fireplace without a thought.

Cazador is bellowing insults again, but the silver-haired elf barely acknowledges the venom spewing from the Vampire Lord’s mouth. He’s focusing on the perfumed residue that’s been scattered across his face along with tiny shards of glass, which have now embedded themselves in his cheeks and forehead.

The fragrance is positively ambrosial, and Astarion just now realizes that you had been wearing this very scent in the tavern. It was what had caught his attention in the first place. The smell proved to be an almost irresistible combination; he’d never smelt anything else quite like it.

The spawn thinks his face is bleeding, and glass might have gotten in his eye. Every time he blinks, there is a sharp, grating feeling, and so eventually he stops blinking altogether. He doesn’t need to, anyway. Instead, his visage turns into a thousand-yard stare.

Bergamot, rosemary… and what else? Astarion can’t place it.

Bergamot. Rosemary. Bergamot. Rosemary.

Cut. Slice. Stab. Whip. Blood. Bile. Scream.

Bergamot. Rosemary. Bergamot. Rosemary.

Cut. Slice. Stab. Whip. Blood. Bile. Scream.

Bergamot. Rosemary. Bergamot. Rosemary.

Astarion jerks awake, shocked by the sharp, resounding clang of metal upon metal. He’s shirtless, it’s freezing. The pale elf soon realizes he’s in the kennels, lying on the cold, damp cobblestone. The rough, slimy rock is poking into his torn back at all angles. Rats chitter about in the walls, causing his skin to crawl in revulsion. 

He hates those disgusting vermin.

It was always cold and wet down here in the kennels. The stone would often sweat from humidity. As it did, it released the rotten scent caused by hundreds of years of torture performed on all Cazador’s spawn.

Piss, shit, bile, and blood.

A disgusting bouquet of misery. 

The kennels always reeked of vile filth, but the silver-haired elf swore he’d caught a whiff of something simultaneously citrusy and earthy, accompanied by the tinkling sound of a woman’s laughter just before he woke.

Bergamot and rosemary? 

But there’s no one else here. Just Astarion and the skeletal form of Godey, currently preoccupied with clanking metal and grumbling to himself.

By the time the vampire spawn fully returns his consciousness to his mind and body, he’s too late to avoid the rough metal chain swinging to smack his head. Astarion grunts at the impact and instinctively clutches his face with his now-freed hand. So that was the metal clanging… Godey was releasing him from his chains today.

His throat is absolutely raw. His mouth is dry. Every swallow sends sharp, stabbing pains through his nerves. 

Had he been screaming?

He can tell he is starving, but that isn’t exactly new… that particular ache was always present.

Had it been hours? Days? Weeks? Astarion couldn’t be sure. There are hundreds of slashes of varying sizes and depths across his body; he reeks of blood, bile, and dried sweat. What he can see of his arms, in the parts not entirely caked in grime and congealed blood, looks to be a strange blend of purple and green. 

“Are you dumb and deaf, spawn?! Out with you, boy!” Godey shrieks, ripping open the cell door and flailing the chain threateningly, “Lord Cazador says you are to get ready for the Greengrass Gala! All spawn are to attend!”

Greengrass? Hadn’t it been a few weeks past Midwinter when he was thrown down here?

He’d been left there and sliced to ribbons by Godey for months.

Why had he been locked in the kennels in the first place? He couldn’t remember. All he could remember was the smell of bergamot and rosemary and blurred bits of conversation in a tavern. He could almost recall that scent combination now. 

Had he been trancing or sleeping? Was that a memory or a dream?

Godey is shouting, rushing Astarion out of the kennel with another haphazardly placed whip of metal, singeing the spawn’s already shredded back. He’s sent to see Dalyria for mending; she begs him to just behave himself next time.

But what had he done, besides nothing at all?

Astarion enters the dormitory to prepare for the Gala. By the looks of his forearms, Dalyria has already done all the hard work. His bruises and cuts are almost gone, and he is certain the rest will disappear prior to the party.

He thinks it’s strange how he can be torn to shreds and restored a thousand times over; an unwilling phoenix risen from the ashes. How much easier it would be to simply crumble and fall with one step into the sun or one vial of positoxin. 

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. 

If only he could be that lucky.

But luck hadn’t been in his favor for over two hundred years, and he was certain it would never be on his side again. He’d prayed to Tymora, the goddess of luck, and every other god and goddess he could remember while locked in that tomb all those years ago. He’d promised to pledge his undead life to their service, if only one of the beings would answer him. Tymora had ignored him then, like all the others.

They were surely ignoring him now.

Astarion doesn’t know why, but he bathes himself in a combination of bergamot and rosemary oils while he prepares for the Greengrass Gala. He doesn’t know why, but something about the smell tricks him into feeling comfort… if only for a moment.

-----

After 200 years of misery, the tides of luck may have finally turned for the vampire.

Astarion is basking in the warmth of a campfire, out in the wilds, breathing in the freshness of the countryside.

It’s the first night in camp. Every sensation out here is new. The breeze dances across his skin, causing the curls around his ears to tickle the sensitive flesh around his pinna. He shudders at the sensation and shifts closer to the fire. Warmth is almost entirely foreign to him; all he truly knows is cold kennels and the iciness of his own skin.

He doesn’t remember if he’s been outside of Baldur’s Gate before; he can’t recall a single moment prior to Cazador. Astarion's undead existence had been filled with the scents of decay and despair, found all over the city and especially inside the palace.

Until now.

The vampire couldn’t remember anything about you, at first. It was as if the parasite had unlocked the recollection, delving into some subconscious vault of memories Astarion could not access himself. He hadn’t remembered you, prior to the parasite’s assistance, but had held onto pieces of information he'd learned from the conversation.

The prickled texture of the grass underneath his palm distracts Astarion as he vaguely listens to his two human traveling companions discuss healing potions. You needed to find a cauldron and distillery set to start concocting things for the journey ahead. The wizard was wondering where something like that would be found out here in the wilds.

As his two campmates chat, Astarion sees more flashes from the conversation he'd had with you in the Drunken Dragon. Everything about that night returns to him in a hazy film, almost like recalling bits of a dream.

Until today, the pale elf believed the concept of positoxins was something he'd always known somehow. In the same way he knew his own name or understood Elvish. But he'd learned that from you. You were an apothecary. You'd given him a business card. You'd asked him to write, and the business card had a vial attached to it, which contained a sample of…

Shit.

Bergamot and rosemary.

Astarion stiffens, and his head jerks to take in your profile. Inky black hair falling just past narrow shoulders in soft waves; warm, olive skin, and purple irises. He crinkles his brow, thinking the eye color is a bit unusual for a human and trying to recall what you looked like in his memory.

Surely, he would have remembered an attractive human woman with purple eyes, wouldn't he? Had you changed, somehow? Is that why he didn't remember you at all?

Though, he did see a lot of faces. And intentionally chose to forget almost all of them. He didn't want to remember the faces of his victims, didn’t want to know their names, didn’t want to remember the way they screamed in agony after he lured them to their deaths.

You don't notice him staring; in truth, you had practically been ignoring him all this time and only focusing your attention on Gale. 

The fragrance you'd given him had wormed its way so deeply into his subconscious that he’d been borderline obsessed with it. He’d tried his best to recreate the scent with what was offered at the palace, but of course it paled in comparison to the one held within his mind.

You had somehow escaped being his victim. Luck may never have been on his side, but it apparently had been on yours.

Why, then, had he forgotten everything else about that interaction? Forgotten you? 

The pale elf doesn’t understand that his own mind had chosen to hide the memory of that night in the tavern. It was a protective measure, constructed by his own shattered psyche. The memory had to be concealed because it held the subtle sensation of hope. Hope was a dangerous thing for him to have. Misery was familiar. 

Hope would convince him to take risks that he couldn’t afford.

[phaerlax]

The GaruKaru to-do list

My most important notes.

Characters I've contrived into fucking Karu

Morvay (sucked his brains out through his cocklet after refusing to let Karu top in a size queen moment)

Edmond (receives a blowjob after getting a dose of devious sex pollen poison meant for Eiden)

Olivine (gets dry-humped after curing his food poisoning)

Quincy (plows his ass after healing it from Garu's offscreen ass-plowing session the night before)

Kuya (flogs him in magical chastity until he cums on release)

Eiden (gets ass eaten in heat until he begs for cock)

A sparrow yokai (ass beaten with a switch, figged, fingerblasted, tail-stroked)

Characters I must contrive into fucking Karu

Aster. I can easily come up with Aster/Karu 'punishment' scenarios, but I'm usually more interested in Karu coping with the aftermath. I must find something interesting that Aster would want to do himself, and maybe make it a bit more sexual than strictly punishing. Just to give Karu a break from all the mistreatment I always have in store.

Yakumo. Easier to come up with Yakumo/Garu. There might be potential in Karu's 'apprentice' delulu, though. And I think it would be fun if Karu was very offended by Yakumo's crushing anxiety about his dick being too big for him XD

Blade. This one is easy, I have more than one concept lol (nosy Blade embarrassingly prodding Karu in the aftermath of an Aster/Karu punishment; Blade giving Karu and Garu the full belly rub special after they give him a cute birthday present)

Dante. God as my witness I will have Dante go OOC and wrestle overpower and spank Karu's spirit out over petty tsun bullshit. Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings + check notes.

Rei. Need a bit more canon info but I love the concept of Rei letting Karu top out of guilt, being unsure of how to handle the novel feeling of caring a lot about his partner's pleasure, and giving Karu pointers. I also love the image of Karu fucking Rei and burying his face onto him as he angrily vents about stuff that is stressing him out and Rei is like there there. Idk.

Rin. Need a LOT more canon info to make this more than generic noncon.

Characters I've contrived into fucking Garu

Aster (bullied him a little, bit his ass, and then more)

Morvay (fucked him with enthusiastic consent as part two of a birthday present after Karu's balls were empty)

Blade (gave him a handjob while they were both missing Eiden)

Eiden (bath sex after some teasing, right after Howling Cyclone room 2)

Characters I must contrive into fucking Garu

Yakumo. This feels like a gimme, I can think of infinite scenarios in which horny Garu initiates and Yakumo is like okay... ;~; and then awooga. The challenge is in picking one that doesn't feel bland tbh.

Edmond. I actually have a "Garu is working as a K9 officer to sniff out drugs with Edmond and the knights but oh no sex pollen" premise, I hope someone else writes it for me but I might do it myself eventually.

Olivine. Okay this is probably the hardest... I got nothing. I do have images of Garu and Karu being really into booba for pubby reasons, but that doth not a fic make... or doth it?

Quincy. The reference in my Karu/Quincy does not count, it needs to be onscreen! I can easily think of situations in which these two would be alone in the forest. All it would take is some essence shenanigans to get things going.

Kuya. My kuyaru fixation mostly lies in Kuya/Karu so this is harder than it may seem... it would probably begin as Garu broaching the topic of Kuya/Karu. I also like the idea of Kuya giving him a condescending bath, but again, I'd rather do that for Kuya/Karu.

Dante. I think the dynamic would work quite well, because I like to write Dante as being weak to cute things, and he would probably appreciate and praise Garu's obedience, which would really do it for Garu. The problem lies only in a good premise...

Rei. I prefer the potential I see in Rei/Karu, but maybe a simple concept of Rei having an 'episode' and Garu being the only one around to help. Or Garu getting himself into a Predicament that needs a sexual solution (these mushrooms will only leave your system once you cum six times-)

Rin. See above.

Also a more direct Garu/Karu needs to happen of course...

[larrythefloridaman]

For character bingo, someone I'm sure you have no thoughts or opinions on,,,,Crimson CPUK?

i had a whole extended fucking tirade written about crimson but tumblr ate it so fuck me i guess. most of it'll be in the crimtoinette fic in Spirit because im psychologically incapable of writing shipfic that isnt also a character study of at least one participant but the point of what i wrote was this:

"imagine if a Paradise Lost 'daddy-issues-satan' type guy was an insufferable 'love is a neurochemical conjob'-ass selfish lonely hedonistic ex-catholic atheist reddit doomer who tempts and enables people to explore the worst parts of themself in a principled war of rebellion against god in an 'arent you tired of being NICE? dont you just want to go APESHIT?' sorta way fully convinced of his irreconcilable separation from good and good things without Taking them like a parasite because his abuser trapped him in a vicious inescapable cycle of punishment and death. and imagine if he got to start healing and rediscover hope again when he learned that this was all a worthless effort because his abuser, again, Kind Of God, wanted to and would've always demonized him regardless of what he did by nature of her own arbitrary choice defining him as inherently evil by nature of birth and so he had no reason to shackle himself to cruelty any longer because there was never any revolutionary point being made in doing it he was just making her job easier and his own life harder for no real gain, not even a spiritual victory of pyrrhic resistance against her toxically positive absolutist power, so he can let his guard down and soften and grow and there will be people who despite everything will meet the real, honest him with compassion, instead of him dragging others down with him into the tar pit of his own toxic misery he's been privately stewing in for longer than most of the cast has been alive trying to be something he isn't, trying to make a point to someone who was never listening and never going to, if he will meet punishment and hurt no matter what, whether its deserved or not, whats the point in making it worse? but hes still kinda trying to be a little bitch about it as he babysits children and saves lives by force of habit. would that not be fucking harrowing. would that not be fucking incredible. would that not be fucking hilarious. is that not profoundly endearing to everyone else. also transgenderism is SO cool"

[thatdammchickennugget]

Hiii Mari, really happy about reaching your milestone, it's amazing✨✨✨

I hope i could participate in the celebration. Could i get a romantic pairing from the Harry Potter or the Percy Jackson fandom (it's all completely up to you, i fully trust your judgment)🌿

A sort of short description

-I'm a medschool student, an introvert by life, extrovert by career choice

-I'm usually the voice of reason in my friend group

- "careful with the emotional baggage, it's designer" & "don't take advice from me, i advocate breakups and crimes"

- i enjoy herbology (as in traditional medicine) and detective literature

- I'm usually the one to take responsibility for everything

-really enjoy helping people

- i may not be able to physically fight for my friends, but I'm mean and i bite

- I'm 5'1, have curly hair, i limp on my right leg and have green eyes

Lots of love and thank you again for writing for us❤️❤️❤️

hello love💕 thank you so much💕 I was really feeling remus for you, hope you like it!

Romantic Match-Up: Remus Lupin

remus first notices you during one of his many visits to the hospital wing after a particularly rough full moon. your calm and nurturing presence immediately stands out to him amidst the chaos and pain. despite your petite frame, you exude an aura of strength and compassion that draws him in.

set on becoming a healer after your time at hogwarts, you're often found assisting madam pomfrey in the hospital wing. remus is struck by your dedication and expertise, admiring the way you handle even the most challenging situations with grace and skill.

despite your busy schedule and responsibilities, you always make time to check in on remus when he finds himself in one of the cots after the full moon, ensuring he's comfortable and cared for. your kindness and understanding make the recovery process a little easier for him, and he finds himself looking forward to your visits.

over time, remus begins to develop feelings for you, captivated by your intelligence, strength, and unwavering compassion. he admires the way you carry yourself with confidence despite the challenges you face, and he finds himself drawn to your inner fire and determination.

you, on the other hand, are initially hesitant to let your guard down around remus. you've been hurt before, and you're wary of opening up to someone new. however, his gentle nature and genuine concern for your well-being slowly chip away at your defenses, and you find yourself growing closer to him with each passing day.

remus cherishes the moments you share, treasuring each conversation and stolen glance. your determination to pursue a career in healing inspires him, and he admires your unwavering dedication to helping others.

you share quiet moments together, sitting side by side as you read your favorite novels or discuss the latest breakthroughs in herbology. remus listens intently to your theories and musings, his genuine interest in your passions evident in the way he hangs onto your every word.

on weekends when you're off duty, you take leisurely walks around the hogwarts grounds, exploring hidden corners of the castle and enjoying the tranquility of the forbidden forest.

you often find yourselves stealing moments of stolen laughter and playful banter, finding joy in each other's company even amidst the chaos of daily life at hogwarts. remus's dry wit and gentle humor never fail to brighten your spirits, and you cherish the sound of his laughter echoing through the corridors.

in moments of quiet intimacy, you find refuge in each other's arms, sharing whispered confessions and stolen kisses in the quiet of the library and hidden corners around the castle.

Song: Magic Works by Jason Buckle

[surroundedbypearls]

‘CLOSET PUN’ - Excerpt #15

Hazel: The Changeling Draft 1

[Excerpt below the cut!]

Hazel beckoned him over and Jet crammed into the circle beside her. Junie began murmuring her magic words again, over and over, her face downturned, her legs tucked in close to her body. She was otherworldly when she did things like this. When she showed Hazel just how talented she was, how connected to the world she was.

“Did it work? Jet asked, after a few moments. No one around the room reacted, and after a moment, Toby gave a thumbs up from the bed. Junie was still focused, eyes closed, lips barely moving as she kept the spell going.

“She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Hazel didn’t recognise her own voice. “I mean, she - her power is incredible.”

Jet glanced at her, amusement lacing his usually dour features. “Right, yeah. Her power.”

She wanted to retort, but she had no defence. And they had no time. “Let’s just get this thing open.” She practically shoved the box into his hands.

Still smiling, Jet gripped the lock, took a breath, and yanked. He barely flinched as it snapped in his hand, clattering onto the floor. She half expected the spirit of Sarah to descend on them with fury immediately. But nothing happened. Jet opened the box and placed it on the floor before them. There were some old crystals, a little cloth bag of what she hoped were herbs and nothing more nefarious, and there. A book.

It seemed in pretty good condition, though its pages were yellowed. The box and the stone of the mausoleum had kept it well guarded from the elements. She opened it up onto the first page, heart pounding. “Read with me. You’re faster.”

And so they read.

Alice’s ailment is a unique one and seems to be spreading. She will not speak to me of how it pains her, but I see the signs every day of how it worsens. A witch cannot heal herself the way other creatures of the night can. Perhaps there is some secret to what makes them that could help Alice heal as well.

Sarah never seemed to write entire passages without losing focus. Her thoughts flitted from one subject to another in this notebook. Even her notes were sporadic.

All of this would be easier if Alice would just change her body. But she won’t agree to it and I promised I wouldn’t try to force her. The alternative solution may be to examine the properties of what makes others self-heal. They are all immortal in some way but for us.

Hazel read on.

Out of the werewolf volunteers I worked with in the laboratory, the longest healing time on the same injury - two broken kneecaps and two broken wrists - was 37 minutes, while the shortest was 18 minutes. Both reported no more pain at this time.

Bones were broken. Blood extracted. Werewolves and vampires and changelings could all drown, and be pained by burns, but werewolves and vampires would heal from a burn. Changelings would not. Goosebumps slid down Hazel’s arms.

If one creature could have all the attributes that make us greater than humans, perhaps that would be the ideal solution. No one would turn down being such a creature, not even Alice. But the question is how to create such a creature?

Notes were scrambled. diagrams , scribbled with frantic notes. It seemed like no creature could regrow a limb once Sarah Proctor had sawed it off. They could close up the wound, of course, and perhaps the pain went away, but the limb never came back, and the phantom pain might remain forever.

“Well? What is it?”

Hazel looked up. She hadn’t even realised the circle had fallen apart around them, Junie panting like she’d been running for miles. The others were staring at her and Jet. She didn’t quite no where to begin.

Luckily, Jet started to explain for her.

More on Closet Pun here! Leave an ask or a comment to be added to the taglist.

[asterlizard]

2023

I have kinda mixed feelings about this year. There were some low points, but then there were some high points too.

I was mostly busy with almost nonstop dogsitting sessions and zine work, but they really ate away at my personal time, especially during the middle of the year. On top of that, I kept job hunting for the first half of the year but it was going nowhere. It really broke my spirit, to the point where just thinking about job hunting made me feel depressed, and I needed to step away from it. All of this combined, I dealt with burnout, discouragement, feeling lost, and stressed to the point of developing a excessive hand-washing compulsion during the summer, which I'm still trying to shake off. I wonder if I also lost a bit of myself along the way, often not feeling absorbed in the moment.

And yeah, this low period also showed in my art summary for the year. I only published a few sketches if they weren't zine works.

That being said!

It wasn't until December that things felt like they were starting to get back on track. I finally got a chance to draw for myself again, and I think the interest I had in this showed in these last few pieces. I felt a lot more comfortable drawing these pieces. I was also finishing tasks in December when I wanted to finish them, and I'm now feeling more accomplished and less ashamed of myself.

On another note, we had great weather this year! There were no wildfires to watch out for (at least, that I was aware of), no nearby smoke or really bad air quality, and not much hot weather! Also lots of rain and cool weather in the first half of the year, it was really pleasant! It really helped with our drought crisis!

As for other accomplishments:

I went travelling for the first time since lockdown! (though even with official safety precautions being relaxed, I still continued to be careful)

I finished pieces for 5 zines: -DanganParty: A Birthday Party zine -Fly!!: A Haikyuu zine -Tsukuyomi: A Tokoyami zine -Celestial Night: A Sailor Moon zine -Wintertide: A BNHA zine

Started some serious cleanup, both at home and on the computer

Going to the cinema again for the first time since lockdown!

I turned 30, which does feel kinda weird because I certainly don't feel like I'm that age. I spent some time while I was 29 kinda fretting about it, but if it makes me feel a bit better, 30 is technically the last year of the 20s. I felt like more could have been done in my 20s that I would look more fondly on like I would for my first two decades, but then again I was dealing with hardship and then healing during my 20s (though it wasn't all bad) I can only hope that I can make my 30s more what I want.

Now then, onto the resolutions:

Image descriptions: Because my mind was preoccupied due to working on other things, I never got around to making any image descriptions this year. On top of that, I ran into a dilemma on where to put these descriptions (do I use alt text? or do I keep writing it in the text box because I hear the alt text can be buggy?) Hopefully I can find a solution and make good progress this year.

Language learning: I think I progressed well in my Japanese learning this year (I watched a video of a N5 test review, and I only got a couple of mistakes, so I think I qualify? Not a huge accomplishment, but it still feels good to pass some kind of level) I'd like to add another resource that involves writing or speaking, if not communicating with someone (that'd be a difficult goal, since I'd need to figure out where to find a conversation partner)

Storywriting: I'm in the middle of writing my next chapter for KalChi, though burnout created a roadblock for me. The chapter after that should be a bit easier though, so I'd like to get more than one chapter published this year. Also… I have another story I'd like to get started on soon (hopefully I'll have news about this in the 4th quarter of the year) I'd also like to try and find a proper website to put my stories on, such as Wordpress. I'm open to suggestions!

Other fun things: Find more things to do outside of what I normally do. It got a bit monotonous for me this year, and I was really itching to see some local stuff again.

Relax: This is the most important! I made this my resolution last year, but I didn't follow it at all, and I think I did worse this year in regards to self care. I really want to plan out my personal time better so I'm not either rushing to get a lot done at once or feeling bored out of my mind.

I also want to continue to keep up with friends! I think I did a little better this year, but our main issue was schedule coordination. But I feel like my ability to communicate has suffered a bit, so I need to keep that up too.

I want to remind myself that making an effort can make a positive difference and not to give up, so I'm once again adding a link to some good things that happened in the world this year: [link]

I have a feeling 2024 is going to be a big year, at least in the world. Maybe the same will be true for me as well, at least in a positive way (though I won't push myself too hard) So I also hope that you stay safe and take care of yourself too. I wish the best for you 💕

[progressivemillennial]

Feminism is for Everybody: Remembering bell hooks (Very Belatedly)

What if I told you about a version of feminism rooted in love, inclusion, and community that acknowledges the unique struggles of women of color and other marginalized groups while not seeking to alienate and divide? A feminism that is for everybody? Well, let me tell you about bell hooks, one of my favorite public intellectuals, who sadly passed away at the end of last year. 

While inclusive feminism with love at its foundation may seem impotent and naïve, I would argue just the opposite: her solidaristic vision of feminism is the greatest threat to--as she put it--the imperialist white supremacist capitalist patriarchy. This is not dissimilar from the threat posed by MLK's potent, similarly inclusive, spiritual, love-based politics if you're looking for a more familiar point of reference.

So where does the power of these ideas come from? Simply put, an oppressive status quo could not survive a large, diverse community that transcends gender, sexual, racial, class, religious, and national divides. In this instance, that community aims to liberate women from the many forms of oppression and domination that they face. And this is key: as women--particularly black women--experience liberation, we will all experience liberation. The establishment will no longer exercise power over us; instead, we will share power collectively in the spirit of love and justice.

Now, some might say that they don't think America is white supremacist or patriarchal or an empire or that capitalism is an issue, and I think bell hooks would say it's normal to have differences, and that we shouldn't fear them. Instead, we must celebrate our differences, courageously love and seek to understand each other and ourselves, and in so doing, we free ourselves to bring about a more just world through our devotion to one another, not in competition with one another. Again, this talk of love may sound utopian and pie-in-the-sky, and it may be, but it's also incredibly strategic: we cannot achieve equality if we are constantly divided and alienated from each other.

The work that bell hooks called for is difficult: it requires ceaseless vulnerability, bravery, dissent, introspection, humility, dedication to justice, and consciously looking to overcome the most entrenched powers and perspectives of our time. But the desired results are more than worth the effort, certainly for women and any marginalized people, but for everyone else, too, because we all suffer to varying degrees from living under the imperialist white supremacist capitalist patriarchy. 

Feminism according to hooks appeals to me for a number of reasons. It speaks to a number of my core values like equality, connection, education, and service. I also find her work challenging, which I relish because it has helped me grow. Moreover, in this version of feminism, it's vital for men to grow and share in the struggle, too. Because of that, it's even easier for me to feel at home and motivated to participate in the feminist struggle. At the end of the day, we need people of all kinds who want justice to come together and support each other, because justice is the root of love, and from love we can connect and heal, and through connection, we can build communities which we can then use to dismantle imperialist white supremacist capitalist patriarchy together. And that, my friends, is feminism for everybody.

I tried writing this with love and as faithfully to the teachings of bell hooks as possible because I adore the presence and wisdom she brought to this world and because I always felt considered and seen by her, even though I never met her. 

If you've made it this far, I hope you'll look into her more. Her writing is very accessible, and she's a pleasure to listen to in talks and interviews if you're more of an audio/visual learner like me. And if you are already familiar with her work and have any favorite bell hooks content, feel free to share it in the comments to help people explore.

Rest in power, bell hooks, and thank you for your infinite inspiration and wisdom, and for your beautiful vision of a better world we can create together.

[marriedtolike18fictionalmen]

Our Infinity of Stars (pt. 4)

Hey y'all!! Sorry its a bit later than usual, I totally forgot to do the timed posting thing. My bad lol

on an unrelated note:

ITS MY BIRTHDAY TODAY (gonna be honest, it wasn't the best one yet, but def not the worst...)

Anywho, as always, I appreciate you guys so much, hope y'all like this part, I'm close to done writing the story, just need to get it chunked out for posting.

Enjoy lovelies!!

After a long day, everyone gathered on a rock on the far end of the beach furthest down from the village, a place all the older kids liked to hang out. Tuk had wanted to go home, exhausted from the play and swimming of the day. The rest of us, The older Sully kids, my siblings and I, the metkayina kids, all started trading stories of our lives.

“Okay, I am dying to ask.” I had turned to where Neteyam sat across the fire from me. “How in the hell did you become Toruk Makto? The full story, not the half-assed version from the other day.”

A proud grin slid across his features as he launched into the story, sitting down next to me.

���I was in the midst of battle. The clan next to ours had been relentless and were closing in. My ikran, Seze, may the great mother reunite our souls, had been shot down. As I fell, a great shadow, the last shadow, dove after me. He extended a kuru towards me and safely got us to the rockface. I was, of course, terrified. I was injured, couldn’t walk, and he knew that. As I tried to hide away in a small cave I knew he couldn’t follow me into, he stepped in my path and hissed before extending the kuru again.

When we flew back into that battle, the last big battle, it rallied the spirits of the warriors. We somehow drove away those cowards. They haven’t been too much trouble since.

Anywho, it was easier to get more stuff to bring with us when we had Takutai with us, bigger back and stronger wings and all.”

The group stared wide-eyed at him, and I shared a smirk with Adib. “Somebody needs to be more original, one of the best warriors of his generation, Toruk Makto, became so the same way his mother became Palulukan Makto, c’mon ‘Teyam, be more original.”

“Somebody’s jealous.” He chided, wrinkling his nose at me.

Everyone laughed, and a new group of the other teenagers neared, introducing themselves as they sat down.

“Toruk Makto, that’s a huge title.” One of the girls, Leilani, commented to Neteyam, a hand brushing over his arm.

He pushed her touch away politely, “Yes, I just did what my people needed from me.”

I looked back towards the beach where a training party had just returned, their raucous laughter carrying over even the crash of the waves against the rock.

Everyone shifted as they neared, making room for everyone. I cringed as Ralak situated himself in between myself and Neteyam, knowing I was in for a long evening.

“Rani, what was the salve you gave me earlier? It worked wonders.” Adib’s voice drifted across the fire to me.

“It’s dapophet and a mixture of other roots.” I responded, happy for the distraction. “A recipe from back home, but with the numbing properties of some other plants from around here.”

Adib nodded, and Ninat started asking me more about the mixture. I shifted to go and sit next to her, shooting a small smile across to Neteyam and the Sullys as I went.

We talked more about our shared passion in healing, and sometime along Kiri joined in our conversations alongside Tsireya. The other girls formed their own group and the boys wandered off to do their own thing. After yawning for the fifth time in a row, I finally stood. “Sorry guys, I’m getting really tired. Gonna head home.”

The girls all agreed, and as a group we all walked back towards the village, separating once we entered it with soft goodnights and smiles.

“Princess! Wait up!” I turned to see Neteyam jogging up the beach towards me, and I stopped to let him catch up. “I’m surprised you're still out and about. Last I remember you had a strict curfew of two hours past eclipse.”

Laughing I replied, “Yeah, well that was your curfew, and I didn’t want to have to hang around your fan club after you were gone.”

He shoved me lightly. “They were not a fan club. More like stalkers who ruined half my solo-hunts.”

We continued to banter, stopping a bit away from the other mauris so we could continue talking without worrying about waking anybody, sitting down on the beach in a small cove area just around the corner.

“The water is so beautiful at night. I thought the forest had nice lakes and whatnot, but this is breathtaking.” Neteyam breathed, eyes focused on the water swirling around his ankles. He smirked as he looked over to where I had splashed the water to make the algae glow brighter. “Baby legs. You have to sit so much closer to the water to make your ankles reach.”

I feigned insult. “It’s not my fault your legs are like a gazillion feet tall!”

He laughed and splashed me lightly, not saying anything.

“I always preferred the stars.” I stood and moved back from the water’s edge, to where no trees would obscure my vision. “You can always find the same ones no matter where you are.” Neteyam laid down on the sand next to my feet, patting the spot next to him silently.

I sat down, immediately shivering at the cool breeze that had stirred up from across the waves, and Neteyam pulled me into his side, an arm around me to keep me there and awakening butterflies in my stomach. “How the hell do you always run so warm?” I asked, calming my voice and wrapping an arm around his middle to stay in his warm embrace.

He rubbed a large hand up and down my side, trying to create friction. “Not my fault you always run so cold.” he mumbled into my hair. I played with the beads of his songcord, rubbing my thumb on the reef shell he’d strung on to the end.

He shifted a little under me, and I glanced up. “My arm’s going a little numb.” He explained.

I shifted onto his chest, “Better for me, I get to be warmer.” I muttered against the necklace he always wore. A chuckle sounded through his chest, and I smiled at the sound, ignoring the tingling in my gut. We stared up at the stars, and I let my eyes slide shut as I listened to the rumble of his voice through his chest as he told me his father’s stories of life beyond the stars.

~ᐧ~ “What the hell is going on here?” I awoke to see Ralak standing over me, hands on his hips as he scowled at Neteyam.

I blinked the spots from my vision as I gathered my surroundings. “Shit, we fell asleep.” I groaned to Neteyam. He hummed in response, offering a hand to pull me up.

I saw as Ralak straightened up as if he was about to start something, so I made up some excuse of Tsahik Ronal needing Neteyam and I today.

We did end up at the tent, but there was no help the Tsahik needed, so we decided to go search out the other Sullys, who were sure to be with my brother. “I’m not going to go looking for Rina or Ateyo, I’m sure they’ll show up soon.”

“Maybe they’re all at the beach, they mentioned really liking that one spot with the shade one time.”

I nodded, and we set off in that direction.

“Aw, look at his little baby tail!” I saw the Metkayina boys circling around Lo’ak and Adib, who were pushing their way out of their grip.

“Leave us alone!” I saw Kiri standing off to the side, and without a second thought, both Neteyam and I ran towards the group.

Neteyam strode over to Aonung, shoving him off of Lo’ak as I put myself in front of Kiri, both of us knowing Adib can very well hold his own, but also that Lo’ak was young and angry, and Kiri was more of a pacifist.

“Leave them alone.” Neteyam growled out. He pushed a finger into Aonung’s chest, “back off.” He warned.

Aonung stepped back, hands raised in surrender.

“Good choice. And from now on, I’m gonna need you to respect my sister.” Neteyam looked at the group, making sure each heard his words.

The Metkayina boys had backed away, and I turned to see Kiri sticking her tongue out at them. I smirked, inclinding my head to signal them to leave. Neteyam pushed Lo’aks head as he turned, and I stood next to him, waiting for Lo’ak to start walking. I glanced back at Neteyam, who again tried to get Lo’ak to leave.

Lo’ak got into Aonung’s face, balling up a fist. I glanced up at the sky before making eye contact with Adib. “Hey, ‘Dib, I think Kiri wanted to ask you something.”

He nodded and walked away from the group, knowing it’d be too messy for him to get more involved. By the time he reached her, Lo’ak had already knocked Aonung to the ground, and Aonung was launching himself at Lo’ak’s legs.

They scuffled, and then one of Aonung’s goons slapped Lo’ak in the face with his tail.

Neteyam scratched his head, and joined in the fight. “You’re stupid!” Kiri shouted from next to Adib. Lo’ak was screeching about his tail, and was dragging a whining Aonung by the ear as he was pulled back. I giggled as I watched the fight, and after a few minutes saw that the Sully’s were outnumbered.

“That’s enough now!” I tried to stop them, but of course I was ignored. With an exaggerated salute to Adib and Kiri, I stepped into the fray and tried again to get their attention. Aonung tried shoving me out of his way, and within a second he was on his back holding his nose and curled in a ball. The fighting ceased, and I brushed off the sand from my leg as I straightened up. “Are you done?” I raised a brow at all the boys, then cringed as I heard Jake’s voice boom from behind me. “What the fuck do you think you are doing?”

~ᐧ~ “What was the one thing I asked? The one thing!” Jake had diffused the situation and was now shouting at the three of us, the boys sporting some cuts, bruises, and scrapes while I had only bruised knuckles.

We all hung our heads and answered, “Stay out of trouble.”

Neteyam stepped up, myself right on his heels. “It was my fault.”

Jake narrowed his eyes, ears twitching backwards. “I don’t think so. You gotta stop takin’ the heat for this knucklehead.”

Lo’ak stepped forward, “Look Dad, Aonung was Picking on Kiri. Called her a freak.”

Jake sighed, then sent us off to go make peace. He grabbed Neteyam and I before we could walk out. “So what’d the other guys look like?”

“Worse.”

“That’s good.”

Neteyam grinned, glancing over at me. “Alot worse.”

Jake sent us off, clearly looking to find Kiri to make sure she was okay. “C’mon “Teyam. Let’s fix you up.” The two of us ducked into my tent, and I grabbed a bowl of clean water and a towel to wipe up his scratches. “Sit on the counter, it’ll be easier for everybody.”

Neteyam compiled, and I settled myself between his legs as I started to carefully wipe at his wounds, crouching down to get a nasty one on his calf. I worked my way up, changing towels as I moved from his legs to his arms, and then again to his torso.

“Did it hurt to get these?” Neteyam asked as he traced the tattoo that ran from the side of my ribcage dowm my thigh, resembling the markings on Syura. His eyes were glued to my skin as he felt the slight raised texture of the marking.

I smiled, “At first, yes. But I had already gotten a few,” I shifted to show him the art on the inside of my bicep, “It’s an ikran made in the traditional Metkayina style.” I explained and his fingers traced the lines of it too.

One arm wrapped around to trace my spine, “And this one?” He whispered as he finally looked up at me.

I wrinkled my nose, “That one wasn’t very fun. I made it really simple on purpose.”

The hand that was still resting on my hip twirled me around, and he traced the linework of the simple pattern that ran down my back. “Your songcord?” Neteyam asked, resting his chin on my shoulder.

I nodded, and he leaned back to once again feel the swirls underneath his touch. “Your birth stuck between two clans, your siblings…” He trailed off, and I looked over my shoulder to a furrow on his brow. “Is this one Syura?”

“Mhm. Syura means energy, so energy symbols kinda in a very abstract shape of wings.”

His finger trailed to the next shape, “being old enough for curfew to be pushed back but still sneaking out for stargazing?”

“It was a fun experience!”

He huffed out a laugh, “Whatever you say, princess. Getting ranked as a top warrior, becoming part of my family, completing your tsakarem training, and this one?”

His hands had stopped on my lower back, near a large diamond shape. “That’s for when Ateyo officially stole my sister away. The next one too. Evil twins, ugh. Gotta hate ‘em.”

Neteyam grinned, “yeah, I can’t believe he won that bet.”

“What bet?”

Neteyam gaped for a moment, before sighing. “We kinda made a bet when we were like 12 over which one of us will get a mate first. I had to do any punishments Ateyo got for two months after he won.”

“And what if you’d won?” I asked, twisting around to face him.

“He’d have had to teach the soon-to-be warriors for two months. The ones who had decided that they already were ready to go off on their hunts and everything.”

I laughed, leaning into his chest as his arms once again hooked around to rest on the last marking on the chain. “And this one?”

“That’s for when we joined the Metkayina clan.” I pulled back to reach around him and grab a new cloth. “Close your eyes.” I softly instructed.

He complied, resting his hands on my hips again as I dabbed cool water on the black eye already forming. He hissed as I got to a particularly sensitive part, tapping twice on my hip in our silent signal of ‘it’s alright’ at my quick apology.

“Okay, you can open.” I stepped back to grab another, gentler salve for the cuts on his face. I applied the salve and lightly blew on it to help with the sting when I saw his face twitch in pain. “Must you always put others first? You protect your family, sure. Take the blame for Lo’ak every time, fine. But you don’t have to silence your pain just for me. I swear, I don’t feel bad in the slightest about making your wounds sting.”

Neteyam’s lips pulled into a wide grin, and this time he didn’t try to hide his wince as it pulled on the cut situated there. “And why’s that, Paskalin?”

I grabbed his chin and started wiping at the wound. “Paskalin? You haven’t called me that in ages.”

“Well, you’re sweet, and you like berries, so ‘sweet berry’ is a fitting pet name. You never answered my question though.”

I rolled my eyes as I grabbed the salve. “Like I said, you like putting yourself in danger too much, and you put everyone and everything above your own needs. This is my little revenge.”

The side of his mouth I wasn’t working on quirked. “So basically your ‘v’ is for vendetta?”

I lightly slapped his bicep, laughing at his pouting expression. “Pretty much, yeah you could say that. But seriously though,” I grabbed his face to make sure he was hearing me. “Stop putting others above yourself.”

He raised a hand from my hip, holding up his last finger. “Pinky promise.”

“You do know those are practically legally binding, right?” I said, hooking my own ‘pinky’ with his.

“I know. And I also know you’ve gotta-” he pecked my cheek “seal it with a kiss.”

I scrunch my nose before lightly placing a kiss on his nose. “Happy?”

“It’ll do.” He hopped off the counter. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to.”

He strode to the entrance as I asked “What kind of business, exactly?”

He turned in the doorway as I gathered the towels from cleaning him up. “The kind where I ‘apologize’ and vaguely threaten that skawng for calling my sister a freak.”

I threw one of the towels at his head, which he deftly ducked and caught. “Nice try, paskalin!” He shouted as he walked away tossing the towel in his own mauri as he went.

“So you’re just fucking him now, huh?”

I turned to see Ralak’s tall frame standing right behind the side of my mauri, a disgusted look across his face.

“Were you eavesdropping the entire time?” I was shocked and backed away out of the entrance to my mauri

“Long enough to hear you kiss him. We ended things two months ago. They’ve been here a week at best. What-”

I had stopped listening, “I thought I told you to stay away from me.” I turned and started walking away, but his hand grabbed my wrist and stopped me, his face had morphed into one of pain.

“Please, ‘Rani. I asked you to be my mate, I proposed to you. Please don’t leave me like this. I can’t lose you.”

“You did the moment you went and slept with someone else the second we disagreed about something. I’m sorry you can’t live with your own actions, but that’s for you to figure out. Without me. Say hi to Leilani for me.” With this, I quickly walked the other direction from Ralak, not bothering to turn, the Tsahik always needs some kind of help. She’ll be able to stop Ralak as well, should he follow me.

[sl33py-g4m3r]

personal musings of mine own

It appears I have once again stumbled back here; rather than researching the relic that I was. Glad to see this still exists.

Please forgive me once more for reading what is essentially a deeply personal diary.....

Pacifism? You best hope that the gauntlet not shine for you then, dear maiden. Perhaps that intellect of yours would be of more use to the monastery in that case, than being a samurai.

that mind of yours is astonishing! You must henceforth waste it not!

Put that intellect to use far more than mere anxieties or worry; tis henceforth easier said than done however...

Unfortunate as it is; violence might always be, my dear. We need samurai to protect the kingdom from demons.... Pacifism is simply not a possibility...

If the gauntlet were to shine, would you be up to the task? You could negotiate with demons, have them join your cause... However; not everyone will be open to communication in that manner. Fighting is required, lest you end up drowning in a pool of your own blood at the hands of the demons of naraku.

Healing magic perhaps? but then you'd still be commanding your demons to attack in your stead... status them? Just be a healing unit for others?

be you far too good natured to ever hope to be a samurai, .... I truly could see you researching in the monastery with myself...

In which begs the alignment question; if you ponder it still.... Law, solid Law it appears to me... I could henceforth be mistaken, however; reading the writings here makes me think, Law rings true.

....? Or perhaps nary.... this talk of "games and fiction"...... are you a devotee of Tokyo's "literature"? Hath thee fallen to the prey of demons in thine own time? thine own world?

I pray that you; mysterious maiden, are not sullied by Tokyo's "literature"..... Thine soul be stained with such filth, of which had turned many people from Kichijorgi into demons.... I pray that none of you in this time fall to the filth of "literature". Or if you can, destroy it and be purified by fire once more.

Learning from doing over merely being an observer. Many more benefits of doing, and failing, than merely thinking and doing nothing. Do you have a COMP? Or do no demons appear where you reside? Quite lucky in that case you are...

Face your fears head on with determination to get through! Even if you must meet Charon repeatedly. Or if you fail, failure isn't the end. Stand. Grit your teeth. "Can't let it end like this!" and continue on. As the brave Blessed Samurai you wish to be. Perhaps not physically, as you seem to be nowhere near Mikado; but in spirit you would make a magnificent Samurai.

Pacifism would be quite hard for a Samurai.... Unless perhaps being a medic as I'd stated above.

Unless you do the reverse of Mr, K. Becoming hardened and uncaring of violence and slaughter, as long as it's demons and not your fellows. I know not your resolve or strength in Pacifism, it reads that your mind is set however.

A monastery job, or being a medic should the gauntlet shine for you. Alas~! I still have not found any means of sending you a uniform as of this time... I believe you have expressed your liking for them at one point? I have one set but it's the standard and may be too large.... now onto the delivery problem.....

you have such a lovely head on your shoulders; you mustn't waste it~~! trapped in a labyrinth of a mind wrapped within anxieties and fear... I pray you find the strength to overcome this struggle~! Much like our own dear Blessed Samurai of Mikado.

I need not procrastinate further; back to the task at hand, if you fellows have some task at hand, lets complete it posthaste~!

may god be with ye! I pray you are well~! until we next meet.... Blessed samurai...

[rainsmediaradio]

The Crosswalk The Devotional 16th November – Exercise Your Gift.

TOPIC: Hope for the Hopeless SCRIPTURE: 1 Peter 4:10-11, NLT “God has given each of you a gift from his great variety of spiritual gifts. Use them well to serve one another. Do you have the gift of speaking? Then speak as though God himself were speaking through you. Do you have the gift of helping others? Do it with all the strength and energy that God supplies. Then everything you do will bring glory to God through Jesus Christ. All glory and power to him forever and ever! Amen.” By Annie Yorty Oh, I can’t stand this! Groaning, I tossed and turned on my bed in frustration. Just as it had a million times before, my mind commanded my right hand to flex. But this time, the appendage, packed in layers and layers of gauze encased within a rigid form and covered with a stretchy bandage, refused to obey. The bulky cast dangled at the end of my arm like a heavy bowling pin with four puffy fingertips protruding. A week out from joint replacement surgery, I already felt claustrophobic, barely able to resist clawing the wrapping off my arm. The pain, initially excruciating, had subsided enough that I yearned to move. To stretch just a bit. To simply use my hand. But, bound and immobile, it seemed disconnected from the command center of my brain.  My useless hand made me wonder how often I’ve constrained spiritual gifts God graciously gave me when I was born again as His child. His Spirit places these abilities within us for an eternal purpose. They enable us to “do the good things he planned for us long ago” (Ephesians 2:10 NLT).  Apostle Peter lists two of the gifts which may be infused into us by the power of the Holy Spirit—speaking and serving others. We find additional gifts listed in other books of the New Testament—teaching, encouragement, giving, mercy, prophecy, leadership, and more. “It is the one and only Spirit who distributes all these gifts. He alone decides which gift each person should have” (1 Corinthians 12:11 NLT). God supplies us with the strength to use our gifts. Often, however, like my immobilized hand, there seems to be some disconnect between the power source and implementation. I sometimes find my gifts hanging limp and useless. At times, a lack of courage prevents me from acting. I’ve been too timid to step out of my comfort zone. Other times, I’ve focused on the gifts of others and judged my Spirit-filled abilities to be insignificant by comparison. I admit I’ve also used my gifts selfishly, tending to my own needs and neglecting to edify others. If these attitudes become habits, my spiritual gifts will languish and even atrophy from disuse. I don’t want to be a dead weight dragging down the Body of Christ. I’d rather be vibrant and sensitive to the Head of the Body, Jesus Christ, flexing my gifts at His command. During recovery from surgery, I exercised my hand as it healed. I started by wiggling my swollen fingers to encourage a flow of life-giving blood. As the feeling gradually returned, I stretched and strengthened each digit. When healing stalled, I sought an occupational therapist who specialized in hands. He assigned targeted, repetitive tasks that built up weak areas. Just as I exercised my hand, we need to use our spiritual gifts. Like my hand therapist, God cheers for us as we start small and gradually increase in flexing our spiritual gifts to do the good things He planned for us from before we were born. When we get stuck in our progress, God shines through our weaknesses by designing circumstances that target our need for growth. I practiced for months to achieve the goal of all five fingers working together properly. I rejoiced when my right hand finally resumed normal tasks of writing, brushing my teeth, closing buttons, tying shoes, and much more. Life was so much easier! God created the interdependence of bones, muscles, and tendons in my hand. He also fashions a Body out of all the uniquely complex members of His family. He unifies us to operate under the power of the Holy Spirit. We serve others, perhaps weakly at first, until we become healthy, functional vessels of God’s grace. How satisfied I felt when I could finally stretch and use my fingers again. But nothing physical will ever compare to the pleasure of exercising our spiritual gifts for God’s glory.  Intersecting Faith and Life: What spiritual gifts have you received to serve the Body of Christ? What might be holding you back from exercising your gifts for God’s glory? Annie Yorty writes and speaks to encourage others to perceive God’s person, presence, provision, and purpose in the unexpected twists and turns of life. Married to her high school sweetheart and living in Pennsylvania, she mothers a teen, two adult children (one with intellectual disabilities), and a furry beast labradoodle. She has written From Ignorance to Bliss: God’s Heart Revealed through Down Syndrome. Please connect with her at http://annieyorty.com/, Facebook, and Instagram. Read the full article

[deepestperfectiondragon]

The beginning..

I spent a long time trying to decide on what to make my first post about, & I figured I would do an introductory blog as most of my posts will be journal entries anyways. For starters, my name is Jewels, and I am currently a 21 year old student living in Canada. I have struggled with my mental health since I was around the age of 13, and have been diagnosed with BPD, chronic depression, multiple eating disorders and anxiety since then. I must admit, I have come SO FAR since then, but I've found myself stuck in this spot between not okay/okay lately. I know I've done well, but I feel like starting a new journey revolving around finding myself, connecting with my inner spirit and truly expanding my mind is the next step for me. I also know a lot of people struggle in silence as I have for many years now, and thought a blog to share my own thoughts with you guys would not only help me but maybe help others as well. I am truly excited to share my journey with you guys, and I am 100% open to advice, as I am totally new to this whole blog thing, and completely SUCK at this whole life thing bahaha.

Lately, life has been throwing curveballs left right and center for me. A lot has changed, and I don't think it's planning on slowing down anytime soon. I have never been good with change, good or bad. Let me give you a quick backstory to what has been going on lately. So I was just in a very toxic relationship (on and off) for 5 years. I met him when I was turning 16, and I thought I was just absolutely in love. LMAO. Anyways, it took everything in me to leave, as he was my comfort zone no matter how bad the actual relationship was. But when I got accepted into college, I almost had this awakening that I had to move on with my life, start growing up and finding out who I truly was. So here I was, fresh out of a relationship, starting college, and I honestly was extremally happy and proud of myself and what I was about to accomplish. I had started talking to this guy who had been a good friend of mine since I was 14/15, and he honestly swept me off my feet. He took me on dates out of the city I live in, started spoiling me and treating me like no one ever has before in my entire life, and I just knew that this was going to be amazing (it's been 2 months now since, and I couldn't be happier with him). I have made so many positive changes in my life lately, lost some relationships along the way that yes hurt, but also made me realize I'm better off without, and most importantly started my journey to loving and finding myself again. Taking care of myself and the people who matter most to me has never felt so good, and I hope I can stay on this path of realizing my self-worth. I have also started using crystals and spiritual healing as a way of forming a positive bond with my mind, body, and soul. Life has been great since, and I can't believe I'm even sitting here writing those words. I'm not going to lie and say I haven't had some hard moments, because there still have been many, I've just found it easier to get back up quicker than before.

[its-deputy-caleb]

If requests are still open, could I request a gender neutral teenage reader (around 16) who is a lord. They are the kindest and most passive of the lords but they are also the only lord that every other lord likes.

Heyy, so I loved writing these they were super adorable and i did it a little differently where there’s some general head cannons for everyone and then there’s also some for each specific character! Also the reader is 18 because I just think it’s easier for me to handle, I hope that’s okay. These are gender neutral so enjoy! and sorry for the delay!

General HC’s

Being the fifth Lord certainly didn’t mean that you were at the back of the group.

Although you were younger than most of the lords, having been the last to have the Cadou implanted, you were the favourite in the eyes of not just the other Lords but Mother Miranda adored you, even the villagers love you.

Unlike the rest of the Lords, who’s Cadou allowed them to harm and take life, your Cadou allowed you to grow greenery and plant life everywhere.

You had the ability to restore old forests, letting flowers grow from you palm and giving them to the children in the village.

Amongst the village, you’re by far the most beloved of the Lords. Each week you bring down foods that you’ve grown so that there’s food for everyone, using the roots of the trees to grow tall and protect them from Lycans that may want to enter at night.

Everyone can tell where you’ve been because you’ll leave a trail of grass under your feet with little flowers appearing when you walk with bare feet.

The village hosts a week long feast for you where all the Lords celebrate with you. There’s lots of gifts, dancing and offerings. It’s the only joyful time of the year and even the Lords who seem sour like Heisenberg, Alcina and even Miranda seem to tolerate each other to celebrate with you.

Your domain is surrounded by forests and streams which have all been restored, wildlife now dwelling amongst the canopy.

Your house is in the centre of it all, the heart of the forest in a large oak tree which is hollow and now where you call home.

You’re a literal ray of sunshine in this ever gloomy world and no matter who or what you encounter; they adore you instantly

Alcina Dimitrescu

Alcina certainly wasn’t happy that the newest Lord was befriending villagers and protecting them as they were her source of food, but that all came crumbling down when she got to know you.

You couldn’t explain it but your beautiful and bubbly energy transferred to people and everyone noticed that Alcina had become warmer towards everyone else.

She saw you as one of her daughters, so sweet and innocent that she felt that motherly instinct to protect you from all the bad in the world.

She loves to braid your hair, watching as flowers grow between the weaves as she pulls it back gently with her long fingers.

Alcina never complains when moss grows on the walls of her castle as she could never be mad at you. She just gets the maidens to clean it off later.

She hates that she often has to stay in the castle with her daughters so you make sure flowers are growing in all her vases and the courtyard is lit up with bright greens for her daughters to gaze out onto.

Everyone at the castle loves you, the maidens, her daughters and especially the Lady of the House as you instantly make the room brighter.

Donna Beneviento

Donna is in absolute awe of you.

She is always so excited to spend time with you and you make her feel loved and happier.

You’re like the younger sibling she never had and she can’t stop smiling when you visit her manor.

Sometimes when you come over for lunch or spend a lazy afternoon over at her house, you open your palm and let a little white flower grow from your palm. You always tuck it behind her ear with a strand of her hair and then grow a smaller one for Angie and place it on her veil.

Donna has a tendency to close herself off from people and often feels lonely but you’re the only one who makes her feel loved.

You show her parts of your forest, places she’s never explored and if she’s scared you simply hold her hand tightly in reassurance.

Once when you were walking through the path leading from your home a deer had stopped in front of you.

Donna was instantly scared of the creature having never seen one before but you gently took her over to it and got her to hold out her hand.

It smelt her hand, it’s doe eyes looking at her before it ran off again and she’d never felt happier since you were there the whole time with her.

She loved getting to explore the woodlands with you, bringing Angie along of course. She felt safe and comfortable with you and she trusted you enough to show her your world which she was captured by instantly.

You make her happy and always manage to lift her spirits up with your powers and you friendship.

Salvatore Moreau

Salvatore loves your powers so much. He’s captured by them immediately and is always so excited to see you grow new things.

He can’t believe that you’d ever want to spend time with him so you always try to cheer him up with homemade meals from things you’ve grown or gifts woven out of wood for him to decorate his home with.

You’ll never forget the way his eyes lit up when you used your powers to restore the windmill that had broken. Using tree branches to make the wind turbine and watching the walls grow green.

The reservoir is no longer gloomy like it used to be but instead there is life all around his land.

The snow melts away to reveal lush green fields which reflect the water beautifully and the petals of trees fall into the water, floating on the light.

He loves to see you and always gets giddy when you visit him, watching as he jumps for joy when he sees you at the front gate.

Karl Heisenberg

Karl will NOT admit it, but you’re the literal ray of sunshine in his life, getting excited when he sees you walk through the gates of his factory.

Hes always smiling to himself when he sees moss, flowers and vines throughout the metal benches and grates of his factory but will deny it if anyone asks.

Sometimes when he’s welding away at metal he won’t hear you come in, and only realises it when he takes a break and sees you curled on the floor with three lycan puppies in your arms as you create sticks from your hands to play fetch with.

Karl is very protective over you and hates when you’re at family meetings because Miranda wants to use your gifts of growth and healing to experiment on you further. Wanting to see if you could potentially grow new limbs or heal others not just the natural world.

One time he walked into experimenting rooms ready for another trial on a potential solider when he notices the Soldat had green leaves coming from his wounds and his torso was wrapped in vines. He couldn’t help but smile at your little additions and made a note in his designs to make all his Soldat’s with your touches to them, deciding that they looked better with them anyway.

[caramelcal]

Trained for Sin {part two}

Word Count: 2.2k 

Ship: Luke Patterson x Reader

a/n: wow...here is your highly requested part two! YALL GOT ME FEELIN FAMOUS!! Thank you so much for every single comment, note, request, repost and message. I am so thankful for them all and I’m glad you guys enjoy my silly little fics lol...

Would a ‘Luke Patterson’ tag be something you guys are interested in, so that you would be notified for every Luke fic I post or no? It’s just a little idea right now...

From Luke’s point of view for a bit of ~spice~

Warnings: friends with benefits themes, sexual themes, swearing 

Tags: @iainttakingshitfromnobody​ @ilymarkchan​ @starjane312​ @miranda0102​ @katrin-okay​ @mah-gah-lee​ @fantastic-fans​ @phantompogues​ @fangirlangioma​

disclaimer: i do not condone plagiarism on my work at all, this has not been posted on any other platforms, or on tumblr anywhere else but my account (rosemoonmist) if you see anyone plagiarizing mine (or anyone else’s account) please inform the rightful author ! thank you lovelies x

Part One   Masterlist

It wasn’t a particularly normal experience for Luke to be called down by his mom, but he tried to give it no thought as he bounded down the stairs that day. He could faintly hear the sound of a car starting up and leaving outside as he turned his attention towards his mom, “Hey mom, what’s up?”

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he saw his mother stare down at the parcel with a slight, almost unnoticeable, frown. The older woman walked towards her son, giving him a weak smile as she spoke to him, “A h/c haired girl dropped this off for you. She seemed upset.”

That was even more confusing to Luke. Who would drop him off a parcel, and why would they be upset? He took the package off of his mother, flipping it around to look at the neat handwriting splayed out on the envelope that sat on top of the tan packaging of the parcel. That was your handwriting, but why would you send him a letter and a parcel?

Giving his mom a muttered thanks, Luke doesn’t stay around for any small talk and instead goes back up into his room, kicking the door shut behind him, all of his attention now on the parcel. Something is wrong, he knows that.

The guitar that Luke was playing before he was called down was long forgotten about as he sat down on the edge of his best, ripping the tan paper that you had wrapped the item in. You wrapped it as if it was a gift but it wasn’t. It was his hoodie he had given you the previous night in the car. Why did you not just return this yourself?

He placed the hoodie next to him on his bed, the envelope still in his hand. He was confused. Yet, as he opened the envelope and the key fell onto his lap everything started to fall into place. That was the house key he gave you so that you could come over whenever he needed you. With that, his stomach fell. No.

Luke was far from dumb, and he could already tell what this was going to be. He had dumped girls over text, he had dumped them in person, and just from the start of your letter, he knew what you were writing to him about. He just didn’t want to believe it.

Dear Luke,

This was probably not what you were imagining to get. Maybe you were imagining a present, or maybe you had a parcel that you were supposed to be getting delivered or something but this isn’t like that. Apologies for possibly getting your hopes up, but this way everything will be easier. I won’t have to fumble over my words and you won’t have to sit in embarrassment as some random girl tells you she no longer wants to have sex with you.

After that last statement, I can already tell you’ve probably stopped reading this, possibly ripped it up, or set it on fire and that’s alright. Yet, no matter how cliché it sounds, this isn’t your fault. This...Whatever we had was great while it lasted, especially at the start but now I have to search for something else. For something more...romantic.

I know you aren’t the romantic type, that had become obvious to me over the past months we have been involved with each other and that’s perfectly okay. I never expected anything more from you. I didn’t expect me to ever want anything more either but the more I watch the girls in the hallways with their boyfriend’s sweatshirts on, holding hands, kissing, hugging I can’t help but yearn for that.

I know I can never ask you to give me that because that was not our deal. I was never supposed to want anything more than meaningless sex, but I did, and I do. I’m just sorry it had taken me this long to realize this was not what I wanted; for either of us.

I think it’s best we don’t contact each other again, whether it be over the phone or in real life, not to give ourselves time to heal but to give us time to recover: for you to find a new girl that will give you everything I have and more; less commitment and more adrenaline and for me to find someone that will give me what I want. These last few months have been an interesting experience, and I wish you all the best.

I’m sorry.

You were gone, and you weren’t planning on coming back.

. . .

Luke had never been one for romance. The whole ‘teenage sweethearts' thing wasn’t for him. He knew that a lot of girls would kill to be in a relationship with him, but it was for popularity; you didn’t want that. Popularity was not a factor for you at all, Luke knew that even if he didn’t speak to you much.

Unbeknownst to you, Luke watched you too. Your small manners and quirks, and quickly became good at reading you. That was how he knew you were embarrassed in the car, even if he couldn’t see you blush. Luke knew a lot more about you than you suspected but the one thing he didn’t know was that you liked romance. Yet, it seemed that was new to you too. 

He thought you were all about the adrenaline and hook-ups like he was, and after seeing how you were on the first night you guys spent together, he thought you were more experienced than you had been. Walking through school felt different now as he glanced over at your locker, noticing your lack of presence. It didn’t feel right.

It was like an itch at his fingers, that something was off about him and he didn’t like it. Throughout the class, he couldn’t focus, his mind in a muddle and hands lightly trembling. It was like withdrawal. Withdrawal from you.

It wasn’t long before Luke walked out of the classroom, not caring about asking for teacher permission. Having a rich dad certainly had its benefits. The school was mostly funded by well-off individuals, allowing the school funds to pay teachers and make the school the best it could be, and with his dad being one of the main ones, he could get away with a lot. Luke’s dad never being around never really was an issue for Luke, he didn’t know what having a dad present was like.  Luke was just happy he could get away with a lot of things like skipping class and not handing in homework.

He made his way down the corridor, subconsciously finding himself heading towards the music department. It was abnormally quiet down there, normally the music department was bustling with sound, but maybe he would find sanity in the silence. That was what he was banking on.

A new sound evaded his senses however, the soft playing of piano keys in a nice and calming melody and he found himself drifting towards the sound. What he was met with, he was surprised. Leaning against the door frame, he watched you, your back turned to him, but he could tell from a mile away that it was you, “I didn’t know that you played.”

The piano playing stopped, indicating that you heard him, but you made no turn to move. He sighed, eyes looking over your figure before walking towards you. He slid next to you on the piano, looking over at your face, the direction of your gaze staying firmly ahead, not daring to stray to look over at him.

His gaze moved back down to the piano keys as he softly played a tune, clearing his throat a little, “Where is everyone?”

“Spirit assembly, they’ll be gone for the next two periods,” You replied monotonously as you continued to stare straight forward. Luke’s eyes stayed on the side of your face, not even looking down at the keys as he played effortlessly. You turned to face him, gesturing towards his face then to his hands, “Is this supposed to psych me out or something?”

Raising his eyebrows, Luke shook his head, his fingers lifting off of the piano keys, “What? No!”

“Whatever, Patterson,” You grumbled, getting up off of the piano seat and going to walk away, only for Luke to grab onto your lower arm in an attempt to stop you, “What?”

“I- uh- I just wanted to say you were good at playing the piano,” Luke commented dumbly, giving you a smile to which you responded with a blank stare. Luke did mean it when he said you were good at playing the piano but that was not what he meant to say. He meant to say something that would make you stay, that would get you to kiss him, to hold hands, and to be happy with him.

Because although he didn’t know it until he got your letter, he knew clearly now. He wanted to be with you, whether that meant fuck buddies, or if it meant dating with every single string attached.

“Really, Patterson? What are you trying to do here? Compliment me back into getting into bed with you?”

“Of course not,” Luke dismissed, climbing over the piano seat so that he stood right in front of you. He grabbed both of your hands, squeezing them in his lightly as he looked into your eyes, “Listen, I’m sorry.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him, confusion striking you as you asked, “What have you got to be sorry about, Patterson?”

“Everything. Y/n, I-I’m sorry that I initiated this whole thing between us two with the no feelings, because from that moment on when I said no feelings I was lying to not only you to but me.” Luke started, looking down at the floor as he began to let his feelings take over. It was one of the first times that Luke ever found himself relying on feelings to get words across, but it felt good to be able to let it out, “Y/n, I always thought I would never do relationships, but with you everything is different. I would hold hands with you down the hall, run around confessing my love for you. I would kiss you and hug you until the sun rose. I would do anything for you, y/n/n.”

Luke’s hazel stared down at your eyes, his ramble coming to an end, making him whisper the end part as he leaned closer to you. Whilst one hand still held onto your hands, one of his hands was on the side of your face, a calloused thumb stroking your cheek gently as he bent down to make direct eye contact with you.

You were dumbfounded. Luke Patterson just confessed his love for you. Luke Patterson. You didn’t know what to say. You never thought that Luke would ever be the type of person to chase after a girl because he wasn’t normally. So why was he so eager about you? He never seemed to show any interest but maybe he was like you; hiding your feelings until they become unbearable.

Butterflies formed in your stomach whilst you tried your best to fight off the smile that came on to your face, looking at Luke with soft eyes, “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Luke nodded his head with a light laugh, a smile on his face. You didn’t say anything in return and instead, you connected your lips with his. You had kissed Luke one hundred times before but nothing compared to the electricity of the kiss you felt right now.

Whilst normally the adrenaline flooded your veins, instead, it was love. It was different from what you were used to, but every touch of Luke on you felt like sparks, like the passion you had put into the kiss sparked electricity with it.

Luke disconnected your lips as he looked down, his hand letting go of your face as his arms went lower, beckoning you to jump up with his head, so you did. With you now in Luke’s arms, you reconnected your lips again, hands pulling on the brown strands of hair on the back of his head.

You barely even paid attention to the fact that Luke walked over to the piano as you deepened the kiss, his teeth biting gently down on your bottom lip, making you open your mouth in surprise. He took the opportunity for his tongue to explore your mouth, and you allowed it, pulling yourself closer to his chest, trying to get as close as you could to the boy. The boy who just confessed his love for you.

The spine of the piano was folded down and Luke placed the top of the piano down, causing you to disconnect your lips and look down at the sleek, polished, black top of the piano that Luke placed you on top of. You looked back at Luke, a look of hesitation to which he nodded, “Luke, no, we can’t do it here! What if we get caught?”

“You said it yourself y/n/n, everyone will be at spirit rally for the next hour,” Luke smirked, kissing you which made you smirk into the kiss as well.

With that, Luke lightly pushed you down onto the piano, climbing over the top of you, letting out breathlessly, “I love you.”

Luke didn’t wait for your response as he bent down to your neck, sucking on it, prepared to leave many marks littering your skin. However, you didn’t oppose, instead your hands made their way up Luke’s back and into his hair, letting out a gasp as he sunk his teeth lightly into your skin. 

And so the games begin.

[holykillercake]

One Year

pairing: Zoro x Reader

word count: 2k

summary: No summary this time. I´ll just say this ¨Bartholomew Kuma and Sabaody¨. Read at your own risk. Seriously, ¨KUMA AND SABAODY¨, do you understand?

highlight: ¨Everyone did their best, but no one could have done better.¨

warnings: angst with happy ending; Sabaody Archipelago spoilers (?)

notes: Hey guys! This was a request from @roronoatrash​ in which ¨Zoro who has 0 sense of direction seemed to always find his way back to is s/o, and his s/o only.¨. I really hope you like it!💚 This is also the first time I write a Devil Fruit user, so I'm considering a sequel to develop the character and add more humor.

𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘, 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖘, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊!

It was a cloudy and melancholic day in the New World. The men on board were leisurely enjoying their afternoon; some drinking, some napping, some eating. The air was humid and cold, and the tides were strangely calm. No one seemed to care. After all, that was the New World. 

¨Boss!¨ the lookout shouted from the crow's nest ¨Something is falling from the sky! It´s going to land on deck!¨

All men tilted their heads to look at the sky, watching a tiny black spot become bigger and more recognizable.

¨Is that what I think it is?¨ the captain asked himself, not believing his eyes.

¨Boss, is that a girl?¨

¨Yep, I think so.¨

They stood still watching what they suspected was a girl fall from the skies. The red-haired took a quick glimpse at his first-mate and officers, and since no one moved, he felt safe to assume that that was not a threat. Mainly because whatever was falling towards the ship looked dead already. 

The body fell through the main deck and went straight to the lower level of the ship. The captain and his officers stood around the hole on the wooden floor, observing the unconscious and injured body of a girl. 

¨I´ve seen some crazy things rain around here... but this is new.¨ he spoke.

They were ready to have someone dispose of the dead body when the girl opened her eyes, putting herself on her shaky legs. Blood dripped from her eyebrows and nose, and she had bruises all over. Her eyes wandered around as if she was looking for something.

¨Z-Zoro...¨ she spoke when her teary eyes met the captain´s ¨I-I need to find Zoro.¨ 

That was all she said before falling on her knees and collapsing. 

                                                             </>

Almost a year has passed since the tragedy in Sabaody Archipelago. A year passed since you were defeated in the fight against the marine force. Your gashes closed, and your bruises healed, but there was a wound that would not go away, even after one year. 

So much had happened since that day. Luffy had broken into Impel Down, fought in the Paramount War, and lost his brother, Ace. A few days later you received the hidden message he had left you, saying that you were no longer going to meet in Sabaody in three days but in two years.

It took you a while to understand the situation you and the rest of the Strawhats were in, and it took you even more to let go of your selfishness and trust them. The guilt for not being strong enough to protect yourself and your comrades ate you alive during the first weeks, but then you considered how they must be feeling too. No one could have done better. 

Everyone did their best, but no one could have done better. 

For one year, whenever a News Coo flew by to deliver a newspaper, you would run and grab it before anyone did, hoping to see another message from your friends. But the status of your captain was the only one you knew so far. You knew he was training with Rayleigh-san, and this whole two years thing should have been his idea. 

When Bartholomeu Kuma used his Devil Fruit powers on you, you ended up landing on the ship of the Red Hair Pirates. They would always tell you how you rained on their Red Force and broke the deck floor. They said you were looking for someone, and during your stay in the infirmary, you would always call for the same person. 

For months nightmares had you waking up in the middle of the night panting and crying. The same one, torturing you in an infinite and merciless loop. 

Every detail, color, and noise. Everything was so precise and clear in your head. 

When he fought still injured from the last encounter with the Shichibukai; when he stood up and faced the Warlord fearlessly. Even with the damages caused by Kizaru and the Pacifistas, he stood up. 

And maybe your eyes fooled you, maybe your exhausted body played a sick trick on you because he was there until he wasn´t.

 Right in front of your eyes.

 His cropped green hair and tanned skin, the vibrant red and white striped shirt, the scar across his chest, the haramaki, and the swords. Gone, simple as that. 

But after all the training that you had with the Red Hair Pirates, you seemed more in peace with yourself. After one year, the nightmares would bother you only every once in a while. You were not prepared for the New World before, maybe still aren´t, but you will get there. 

And they made everything easier. It was no mystery why Luffy liked them so much. Whenever you were not engaged in a fight or some other Emperor crap, those guys were incredibly light-spirited. And the moment they realized you were part of Luffy´s crew they treated your wounds and welcomed you onboard. 

Shanks agreed to have his men training you, but he made very clear that no one would babysit you, so it was ¨keep up or keep out.¨. You spent most of your time with Yassop, Benn, or Roux, for they were the best in the abilities you exercised. 

Inside the Strawhats you were a stealth agent, mostly because of your Devil Fruit, the Nagi Nagi no Mi, once possessed by a Marine Commander. Another Supernova, the Surgeon of Death Trafalgar Law had told you that before shit broke in Sabaody. 

You used that combined with your fighting skills to breach the enemy´s first line of defense before they saw you coming. Usually, Usopp would assist you with the sniper training, trade he ¨learned from a friend¨, Sogeking. 

His father was an extraordinary sniper, and he used the same kind of firearms as you, differently than Usopp´s slingshot. Benn´s combat skills were remarkable, and Roux was exceptionally fast for a man his size. You haven´t had a lot of opportunities to fight the Red Hair himself, though you had a strong will, his Haki was something you have never seen before. 

¨We´re going to a bar, kid. You´re coming?¨ Benn asked you with his cigarette on his lips. 

You pondered a little over his invitation but decided to decline it. ¨Thanks, Benn, but I´m keeping a low profile tonight.¨ He nodded and smiled, turning to follow his crewmates ¨Don´t drink too much, we have training tomorrow!¨ 

The first mate laughed shortly and spoke without looking at you ¨Roger that, kid.¨ 

You walked the opposite way, wandering between the vegetables and gimmicks tents, feeling the kind sunset kiss your skin. There was some music playing, kids running around with ice cream in their hands, laughing loudly and happily. Marketers were announcing their prices, housewives were thinking about delicious recipes to prepare for their families, and couples would sit together around the font, swearing love to each other.

Every day was like that. The citizens would wish their neighbors ¨good morning¨ from their windows; bakers would open the doors early, letting the delightful smell of fresh bread wake up those who slept in.  

How could you, in the middle of all that happiness, feel so sad and lost?

You sighed and made a route change. Maybe you needed a little bit of booze. 

The island where Shanks had decided to dock was in the Grand Line, a place where they were known and welcomed. So you knew where they were, and it would be a short walk to get there.

¨Y/N?¨ 

You turned automatically, thinking that a crew member had gotten lost and was looking for his captain - or boss, how he likes to be called.

 But when you saw the man standing in front of you, everything stopped. The music, the kids, and the love promises. 

At some point, you started to cry and hyperventilate, believing you were in another nightmare, and you would have to go through that day all over again. Your lover carried pain in his eyes as well, like his fears were the same as yours. 

Those minutes you stared at each other felt like hours while you kept every detail of him in your memory. His hair was slightly longer, and his complexion was paler, even with the sunset painting his skin. 

¨Z-Zoro...¨ you whispered shakily.

He gave a step forward ¨Y/N... it´s you...¨ 

You ran in his direction as soon as your name fell out of his mouth. Your arms embraced his neck, and your legs gave up when he held you tight against his body, whispering comforting words as you broke into tears. 

¨I...¨ nothing but sobs came out.

¨I know... me too.¨ he fondled your hair and hid his face in the curve of your neck. And there stood the both of you, not wanting to let the other go. 

                                                          </>

¨How did you know I was here?¨ you asked and he blushed a little.

¨I didn´t... I had to buy stuff for the castle, and I got lost.¨ a loud laugh came out of your mouth. It was so obvious, how didn´t you guess that?

¨They didn´t give you a log pose?¨

¨They did, but I took a nap and when I woke up, I was here.¨

You spent the rest of the day cuddling on the beach sand. Zoro was laying on his back, and you were resting on his chest. You had one year worth of conversation to catch up on, and neither of you rushed to do so. He told you about Mihawk, the creepy island in which the only native habitants were copycat human drills, the boat he destroyed, and even how he begged the Warlord to train him.

The sun had started to hide behind the sea, and the warm sand was cooling down. The sound of the waves crashing on the shore together with the salty breeze made you question if you had died at some point, and that was heaven.

¨You´re paler.¨ he chuckled.

¨It´s not very sunny where I´m living.¨ 

¨Hm...¨ you hummed ¨And how long did you take to figure out Luffy´s message?¨ 

¨Oh...¨ he thought for a second ¨ I knew right away.¨ you giggled and doodled on his chest with your finger. 

You felt his chest go up and down as he let out a sigh. 

¨I missed you, Y/N.¨ he hugged you tighter. 

¨I missed you too.¨ you stayed in silence for a few minutes ¨Anyway, when are you setting sail again?¨ You asked him softly, and he tensed up. ¨I know... ¨ your lips began to tremble ¨ I don´t want to go either, but what happened in Sabaody... I don´t want that to happen ever again.¨ you bit your lip as tears started to roll on your cheeks. 

He wiped the tears with his fingers and pulled you closer. None of you wanted to part ways again, but not only those were your captain´s order that was your future. If something like that happens again in the New World, a two-year separation would be the best scenario possible. 

¨It won´t. I promise.¨

When the night came, you decided to stay on the beach and talked until you fell asleep under the stars. The best sleep you´ve had in a long time. No nightmares, no agony, and no pain. Just the warmth and peace you missed so much.

On the following morning, you helped him get the provisions for Mihawk´s castle. You toured around the city holding hands and joking, kinda like the couples sitting by the font, enjoying every second you had before he left. 

If he didn´t get lost trying to go back to Kuraigana Island, it would be a quick trip. You assisted him with the bags and walked him to his boat. Your heart ached to say goodbye to him, but you had to. The circumstances were bigger than the two of you.

¨I love you, Zoro.¨ you hugged him and tried not to cry again.

¨I love you more, Y/N.¨

¨Careful with the naps, ok?¨ he chuckled and nodded ¨One year. We´ll meet again in one year.¨ 

¨Wait for me. I´ll go get you, and we´ll return to Sabaody together.¨ 

¨But how will you know where I will be?¨

¨It doesn´t matter where you´ll be. I´ll always find you.¨