#how can i exist knowing he wont look something up and do a spit take and say FUCK . especially considering his conservative christian elder

[king-sassy08]

Did you hear? Texas just banned porn.

Did you hear the "offensive to minors" content bill that stipulated an age verification to access adult content or content deemed harmful or offensive to minors was passed??? Now you have to verify your age to view such content, which can be used to restrict minor access to LGBT resources, sexual health information, and anything else the government deems "offensive or harmful."

And also in a SHOCKING turn of events, Pornhub made itself and its two subsidiary companies unavailable in Texas, calling the bill haphazard and ineffective in protecting minors and actually harmful because it forces minors to interact with potentially harmful sites and denies access to other potentially useful sites. They also said it's an invasion of privacy and a violation of 1st amendment rights.

In order to access adult content in Texas now, it would need to be done by inputting your government ID numbers to prove you're an adult (and allowing the government to know what sites you're accessing, further watchdog activity) OR verify using 3rd party systems (by verifying your debts, student loans, education, job status, tax information, mortgage information to verify you're an adult), which opens the door for information to be sold to other third parties and can potentially expose all of your private life to outsiders.

Putting aside the porn thing, not out of a sense of moral righteousness, but because that is a whole different can of worms to dissect the way banning porn is awful for everyone. Putting that aside, how is this going to affect teens, children, closeted people?

To have zero access to LGBT resources that will be deemed offensive to minors? Goodbye Trevor Project. Goodbye resources on sexual health, what STDs are, and everything of the like. STDs and STIs will increase, health complications from such issues and from potential pregnancy complications (how do you have safe sex if you're not even sure what that means?).

Banning information will not guarantee people stop looking for it or needing it! Instead, they will get WRONG information from friends and other potentially misleading sources, and feel helpless when they have no way to figure out what is going on in their lives. People don't stop needing information because they can't find it. They just suffer because they can't find it.

You may not like Texas, but PLEASE, for the love of God, there are children here. They need your help. Don't turn your back on us. Don't forget the way you learned about sexual health online when your school wouldn't talk about it, or the way you watched that first porn and said, "fuck, I think I'm gay." Cast your gaze towards Texas! I'm begging you to have a little heart.

[notmanagingmymischief]

𝒩.𝐵. || 𝒶 𝒽𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝑔𝑜.

WOW, USER NOTMANAGINGMYMISCHIEF ACTUALLY STILL POSTS ORIGINAL WRITING??? :000000

shocker, i know

~~

word count: 1,964

warnings: death/dying, mentions of incestual tendencies on Norman’s part, survivor’s guilt, ambiguous ending?

~~

tag list:

@takemercyonme @when-i-miss-you @damagnificentcookie @straight2hades @marvelgeek09 @herashifts @crime-ninja @onebigsimp @emiliaisdead @sapphic-stress @nonbinary-cryptid-baby @merci-bitch @feartheclipse @mxbeezkneez @fxoehy @ahoy-gays @sythaerin @consciouschunkofmoss

if you’d like to be added to my tag list, send me an ask or comment, or fill in this form! <33

~~

enjoy xx

~~

I had been in love with Norma Bates for as long as I could remember. From the moment I laid eyes on her, probably. It took almost two long years for me to finally confess to her, and three for us to completely and totally settle down with each other. It was on what was supposed to be a calm, easy day—one where neither of us had work to do, and we could just exist with each other—where something finally went wrong.

Well, that isnt entirely true; the past couple of days we’d been having this weird tension between each other. Norma had been busy with the Motel, Norman was being a pain in my ass, and my estranged family had decided to reach out again after years. All of the stress culminated today, though. When we had nothing to distract ourselves with, and somehow it ended up in an argument. One of our worst we’d ever had, in fact. I mentioned something about my parents getting on my ass, which led to the conversation of Norman. This was already a rather sensitive topic for everyone, and I’d been too stressed to filter myself. A stray comment I made had Norma all up in arms, and so here we are; in a screaming match in our shared bedroom.

“You can’t say that! I know you don’t get along, but Norman is my son, whether you like it or not!” Norma exclaims, throwing her hands up exasperatedly. I scoff and cross my arms. “Yeah, thats the problem, Norma. He’s your son.” I give her a Look, “He acts like he’s your boyfriend. Have you seriously never even been slightly freaked out by that?” I make perfectly valid points; Norman has always been weirdly attached to his mother, in a very creepy way. But Norma was unwilling to acknowledge that. We bicker back and forth some more, poisonous words thrown back and forth between us. “At least he didn’t abandon me!”

That. That was the final straw right there. Norma knew exactly how to get to me. I confided with her about my family issues and there she was, using them against me. I reel back with a hiss. “You—what?” I spit, glaring at her. But Norma doesn’t even take it back; I sense we’re both too upset to really consider each other's feelings. I shake my head. “No, thats too much. I can’t—you know that isnt what I did!” Norma mirrors my action, shaking her head and giving me an exhausted look. “Isn’t it?” she asks, and I have to clench my fists to stop from hitting something. We stare each other down for a moment, neither of us willing to speak. And then she does.

“That’s it. I’m done. We, this,” she gestures vaguely between the two of us, “is done.”

It hits me like a bag of bricks. I’m not stupid, or dense. “Are you breaking up with me right now, Norma..?” I ask, tears stinging in my eyes. “I didn’t want to say it but yes, I think that’s what has to happen. I just—I’m done.” I keep staring at her in shock, trembling violently. I can’t speak, can barely even breathe, and Norma wont even look at me. Finally, I choke back a little sob, and with a cracked little voice, I go “Fine. Fine, then. G-Goodbye, Norma Bates,” before turning on my heel and doing my best not to run from our room, from our house, from our life. It doesnt take me more than twenty minutes to grab some essentials, only what I’ll need for a couple days before I can come pick my stuff up, and throw it and myself into my car. Not once does Norma show her face, and I’m almost grateful for it. I only spare one glance up at that old house on the hill before pulling out of the lot and onto the freeway. I don’t know where I’ll go, I don’t know what I’ll do—I just need to get away.

I drive down the highway, vision dangerously blurry from tears, for what could be minutes or hours. I have the radio up as loud as it’ll go, I’m clenching my fists around the steering wheel to the point of my knuckles aching. But nothing matters, because everything just hurts. Everything hurts so much.

It hurts so much that I don’t notice myself shaking so badly my driving has become erratic. It hurts so much that I don’t see myself accidentally veer to the left with a particularly body-wracking sob. But it doesnt hurt enough to stop me from seeing the headlights blinding me. And all I have time to do is let out a choked gasp and shrill shriek before—darkness.

~~

Norma had been a wreck. Since she watched you from what used to be your bedroom’s window, watched you drive away and not look back, since she realized what she had done. She fell onto your—no, her bed—and put her head in her hands. She didnt cry, she couldn’t. But she did just sit there in silence, running through everything that had happened in the past hour in her head. When she did finally get up, her stare vacant and eyes dull, she went about the rest of her day without any of her usual fervor. Dinner with Norman was filled only by him, telling her about whatever taxidermy he’d done that day. And when she went to bed, Norma finally let herself cry. When she went to bed without you, and realized how cold her bed was. When she realized that the sheets hung too loosely over her shoulders because your body wasn't behind her to elevate them with your own. She didn’t sleep that night.

The next morning, Norma Bates is roused from her exhausted silence by her phone ringing. Not by her alarm, it was much too early for that. No, this was a call. With a sleepy groan, the blonde turns to grapple for it, answering the thing without reading the caller ID with an unimpressed “What?”

“Is this….Norma Bates?”

Norma didnt recognize the voice on the other end. “Uh…yes, this is she. Why..?” she mumbled, rolling onto her back. “This is Pine Bay Medical Center. We have Y/N L/N here with us…you were her emergency contact.” This immediately snaps Norma’s exhaustion out of her and she sits up in bed quickly. “What? You—what happened? Y/n? Is she alright?” “Ma’am, please breathe. Are you sitting down?” Norma’s breathing is already rapidly increasing, and she nods before realizing they cant see her and quietly choking out a “Ye-Yes, I am.”

“Mrs Bates, I regret to inform you that Miss L/N passed away this morning at…15:23 PM.”

The world goes silent. It falls out from under Norma and leaves her reeling; she nearly drops her phone from her hands as she just…stares. Stares at her wall in silence. The woman on the end of the line must be speaking to her, but all Norma can hear is a persistent buzzing behind the ringing in her ears as those words bounce around her head. After too long, the woman finally croaks out “Can I see her?” The moment she’s given the okay, she hangs up and snaps into action. She throws on the closet dress she can find, and doesnt even bother checking on Norman as she practically throws herself out the door and down the stairs.

Norma makes it to the hospital in record time, thankfully not stumbling across Alex to give her a speeding ticket, and the car is barely in park before she’s out the door and sprinting into the ER. Her voice shakes something fierce as she begs the receptionist to let her see you; as though begging them to bring you back. It takes too long for them to understand her but when they do, they give her a knowing look. “She’s..already at the mortuary, second floor.” Norma doesn’t bother thanking them before she’s gone, up the stairs and frantically searching for the room.

It doesn’t really sink in, she thinks, until she gets through to the workers and is finally led to the wall. When the small door is opened and a metal slab is slowly pulled out. And when she stares down at you. Down at her girl; peaceful but cold to the touch. It doesn't sink in that you’re gone until she rests a trembling hand on your cheek and can’t feel the warmth of your skin, when you don’t automatically lean into her touch. It isn’t until that moment that the world, reality, finally comes crashing back in and down onto her shoulders. The reality where you’re….not here.

Without being able to stop it, a shrill sob falls from Norma’s lips, and just like that she collapses against the wall. The mortuarists don’t intervene—they’ve seen this happen too many times—and let her grieve. They let her sob and plead and press her fingers to every cut and scratch on your pallid complexion, until she’s finally guided slowly and carefully from the room, still crying and repeating your name desperately. She’s sent into an empty room to be by herself, but she can’t even make it to the chair before she’s on her knees on the ground, sobbing all over again. Face in her hands, nearly screaming with the agony filling her entire body and soul. Gone, gone, gone, gone. You’re gone. Nothing Norma can say or do can take back what happened, and now you’re gone.

You’ll never wake her up with breakfast in bed again. You’ll never laugh at her stupid jokes. You’ll never hug her from behind and press your face into her hair as you grumble about the workweek’s stress. She’ll never kiss you again. She’ll never stay awake talking until past midnight about anything and everything again. She’ll never even…see you again.

Norma doesnt know how long she stays like that; eventually someone must have shown up because now she’s sitting in an uncomfortable chair and being asked too many questions, being talked at too much, and everything’s too loud. And Norman is there. He appeared a few hours back, but didn’t dare try to speak to his mother. She was too deep in her grief to even recognize his presence yet, and when she answers questions they’re brief and mumbled. The clearest thing that passes by her hearing is a doctor saying “Your wife was very strong in the OR. She fought hard, and it’s a real shame she didn’t make it.”

Her wife? When had she been put into the role of your wife? It was only once she was given your phone that she realized her contact was titled “wifey <333”, her name only written in the subtext inside the contact info. This brought on a new wave of tears. More unidentified time passes, until Norma is finally left alone with Norman in silence.

“I’m done.”

Norman looks up at his mother with a confused look. “What did you say, mother?” She slowly raises her head from her hands; “‘I’m done.’ That’s the last thing I said to her,” she breathes, eyes glistening with more tears that prepare to join the ones already streaming down her cheeks. “The last thing she thought she knew was that I hated her,” Norma chokes, sobbing again and letting her head fall back into the wall. She doesn’t even register the dull sting, too consumed by guilt and shame and grief.

What flowers will they have at your funeral? Did you ever write a will? Who would they tell? Would she let your family know?

But worst of all—how would she live with herself knowing that this was all her fault?

[ensnapemysenses]

Hello! I would love to ask you for a Severus snape teacher who doesn't know how to react or act when he finds out that a first year student has a strong crush on him, platonic please, something like that sounds funny in my head 😅

Severus would be thoroughly weirded out by a first-year student having a crush on him. He would do everything in his power to avoid them, assigning their detentions to other staff members and never himself.

If they confessed their feelings to him after class one day I imagine it might go something like this:

"Do tell me. Why are you lollygagging around after my class? If you have a question spit it out or leave my sight!" Severus sneers, thoroughly annoyed at his student who always seems to hang around after class for just a bit longer than they should.

"Sir, I don't have a question but I do have something I'd like to tell you," they say, shifting their weight back and forth on their feet.

"Well? What is it? I don't have all day to sit here and listen to your stupid games," he mumbles, raising an eyebrow at them and returning his attention to tidying up his desk.

"Well, sir. I - I really like you and your class," they take a deep breath and pause for a moment, "I think I have a crush on you."

"What was that, that you just said? Do my ears deceive me?" Severus questions, not sure that he heard correctly.

"I- I said. I have a crush on you sir," they reply, looking at the ground.

"(Mr./Ms. Last Name), as humbled as I am to be someone you look up to, it is rather inappropriate to take it this far. I am your professor and you are my student. Focus your energy on your studies and on someone your own age.

“I know, sir. It’s not really a crush. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

“How’s your family life at home?” Snape questions, perhaps they see him as more of a father figure than a crush.

“It’s okay, I guess,” they shrug. “My parents aren’t really present in my life much.”

Sighing Severus walks up to them and places a hand on their shoulder. “I understand but it’s important to not overstep any boundaries with your teachers, no matter how much you look up to us our relationship must remain that of a student and that of a teacher. Do you understand?”

They nod, a solemn look upon their face. Their sad disposition breaks Severus’ cold dark heart a bit but he must stand his ground. It is not fair to other students for him to play favorites out of pity.

“However,” he starts, “I’ll keep an eye on you while you are here at Hogwarts but don’t get your head stuck up your arse! You wont get any special treatment from me,” he says with a small smile. “Now get! I’ve got a lot of tidying up to do from this lesson!” he chuckles, shooing them away.

“Really?” they exclaim. “Thanks Professor Snape!”

Snape shakes his head as the student exits. Why must he always over involve himself? It’s not like he can protect and lead every student of his down a different path than he has tread. But perhaps, the few he is able to direct on a better path will make his miserable existence worth it in the end.

[dilfwaynes]

hi!! can i request a hc of the batfam reaction of their eastasian!reader gf  experiencing racism? thank you <33

just a reminder if you took place in any involvement of asian hate block me rn bitch :)

a/n: i hope you enjoyed this anon, i tried to make it accurate without stepping over any boundaries since im not asian myself. if anyone finds any sort of this offensive pls dm me !!

warning ; racism, batfam beating hoes, mention of blood

parings : bruce wayne x asian!reader, jason tood x asian!reader, dick grayson x asian!reader, stephanie brown x asian!reader, tim drake x asian!reader, damian wayne x asian!reader

BRUCE WAYNE:

it’ll honestly take a minute for bruce to realize what happened

when first entering the store he took notice of the man glaring but brushed it off thinking it was directed towards him as bruce wayne

you however didnt really pay attention to the dirty looks being thrown at you

with bruce excusing himself to the restroom and makes a promise of a quick return, you wander around the area by yourself

it was all fine until a man approaches you, giving a fast glance at him before turning away. there was definitely something up with him

“you don’t belong here”

your head shot up at his words, looking around you to make sure he was talking to you

“excuse me?” you lift an eyebrow at him, knowing what he was hinting at

“you fucking heard me, you don’t belong here. go back to your country.”

you inch away as he steps closer,”you better back the fuck away..”

he simply gives a smug face only coming closer,”or what?” you tighten your jaw when he loosely lets out a slur, your fists clenched.

“or i dislocate your arm.”bruce’s voice rings out, deep in anger as his eyes flicker to you and scanning to see if you were ok physically.

the ugly bitch’s face pales when he realizes who’s your boyfriend. without hesitation bruce yanks him away from you, slamming him to the wall

demanding for a first and last name,  squeezing his neck when the guy stays quiet

shaking he gives in and tells, flinching when bruce slams him against the wall one last time before dropping him

“i guaranteed whatever poor status you do contain i’ll tear it completely, say goodbye to your job.” he grabs for your hand and brings you into him as you both walk away.

“i’m sorry i shouldn’t have left you alone, my fault,”he presses a kiss to your temple.”and please don’t think any worth of that garbage’s words.”

you shake your head,”he was just some lowlife, not worth thinking about.” you reply leaning into him.

he looked at you and could tell no matter what those words still hurt somewhat and it angered him to no end

no one deserved to hear that disgusting shit, especially not his girlfriend.

his eyes hardens but doesn’t push further to make you anymore uncomfortable than you probably already are

giving another kiss to the side of your head he makes a quiet promise to himself not to leave you alone anymore in public with disgusting people like that around

jason todd:

as soon as the slur leaves the guy’s lips jason’s fist collides to his jaw, no doubt   shattering it

you and jason were grabbing lunch at some restaurant slash bar since it was the first time in a few days jason was free

everything was okay until you got up to go to the bathroom and some guy bumped into you

jason watched with hardening eyes as you apologize instead of the guy who slammed into you

“watch where the fuck you’re going at.”

you fall shock at the word, staying in place

while jason is on his feet in no time, swinging to the asshole’s face

screams were heard as well as the sound of bones breaking from his fist impact, the guy stumbling to the floor

“you racist fucking prick that’s my girlfriend you ugly fuck,”lifting him by his shirt he grabs his face and turns him to you.”apologize to her before i break your fucking face.”

he quickly rambles apologizes, crying in fear or pain. most likely a mix of both

jaaon lets him go and gives him another punch, this time to the nose. finding satisfaction at the pool of blood now seeping out

jason grabs your hand and starts to lead you outside,”let’s go eat somewhere else and forget about this shithole.”

you barely had time to give a reaction to anything as everything happened so fast

“hey look at me, don’t listen to that worthless fuck and his fucked up mindset. i dont know what to say to comfort you since i never experienced anything like this.” he stops at the car, placing his hands onto your shoulders

you nod sighing lightly, you only wanted a simple lunch with your boyfriend but instead got hate crime for simply  breathing.

“it’s nothing i haven’t gone through before,”he shakes his head blue eyes filling up with rage.

“no one’s gonna be doing that anymore, or at least getting away with it while i’m around

DICK GRAYSON:

he was completely taken by surmise at the slur being thrown at you, as well as the fault of you being the root of the covid 19

but before he had any time to react you were already on your feet glaring,”the fuck you just called me you piece shit.”

before he could reply you already kneed him and punched him between the eyes, dick laughing at the cries of pain

“you want me to take over or you wanna handle it babe?”

even how badly he wanted to beat the shit out of the pos the choice was yours

you denied and wanted to handle this on your own

but everytime the guy tried to get up dick would just shake his head and tell him to stay down, or simply push him back down

eventually if you start going too far richards would pull you away and tell you hes not worth it

he understands your anger but he doesn’t want you to past a line you won’t recover from bc of some worthless grime

“c’mon, he’s not worth anymore of our time. lets go eat pizza.”

DAMIAN WAYNE:

swing first talk later

he’ll just look at guy for a few seconds with a blank face

then he’s literally knocking them out

will probably kick him into the wall or ground

u dont know if you wanna pull him away because you already the tabloids, or if you wanna let him continue to beating the guy

damian probably wouldn’t realize how much he beat the guy to a pulp until you’re tugging him away

nudging his neck with to your nose to try and calm him down

he’ll end the fight with spitting on him tbh

your face reddens with anger when your eyes met the racist bitch, enjoying the view of his blood on the floor

“racist piece of shit,” he hisses before finally turning his back brow still frowning with anger

unlike the others (mentioned) he also knows and experienced racism and understands your point view way more

and know bow to comfort you better tbh

afterwards he’ll talk to you and comfort you, as well as opening up about his racist encounters, as well as his mothers.

if you’re still upset about what happened some hours later he 100% offers to beat up the guy again

you laugh it off cos hes serious about doing detective work, finding the guy and beating him to a pulp

you thank him but deny his offer and settle to confiding into him and just telling him how your feelings

STEPHANIE BROWN:

“are you fucking serious right now bitch?”

steph deadpans staring at the girl who called you the slur with ease, going on about how you were the cause of corona and to go back to your country

shocked at the words, hearing all of this before but it still doesn’t fail everytime you hear them

turning to you and seeing the hurt on your face from the word, she quickly turns to seeing red

without a second thought she grabs the collar of the woman’s shirt

“you’re gonna fucking apologize to my girlfriend right now or i’m gonna slam your face into the floor and break it

you stay still, pleased at watching the girl shake in fear under steph as she chokes out a mesh of a shit rushed apologizes

stephanie throws her down to the ground after her third apologize

“are you okay?” she knew you weren’t but asking the question would lead into the stage of comforting you

you nod but go on to tell her that this isn’t the first or last time this will happen, but it still never fails to shock you

she frowns at your experiences and doesn’t quite know what to do to help since she never went thru anything like that

she offers to take you to your favorite restaurant and end the day in wayne manor watching whatever you wanted

smiling when you accept, pulling you in her and pressing a kiss on-top of your head

“dont worry i’ll beat any jackass that pulls any racist shit.”

TIM DRAKE:

i think he’ll be the less  violent one out of everyone

he would honestly be so disgusted and gross out at humanity and how the woman thinks shes superior just because she’s white

if it was a guy saying what was said, then he would probably hit them ngl

but he takes the higher road with the woman, belittling and ending her with his vocabulary

and you’re pretty sure that his words hurt her more than an actual punch would 

you laugh when he compares her built to a buffalo

he then goes on to a more education lean, explaining how skin tone has nothing to do with a person, and she should adapt to modern times and stop being a racist cunt

after he ends it he goes on to find out who she is and email/call her workplace to inform what kind of employee they have

probably also goes on to make sure she wont be hired anywhere else

comforts you alot and and will get you anything you want

prob gets you both milkshakes as you vent to him about today and other racist things said to you

hates how you have to go thru any of this for simply existing

the  incident opens his eyes and he starts talking to bruce about opening a charity for ‘stop asian hate’

would shy away from the press and say you both came up with the fund

u’ll dismiss that rq and tell everyone it was all tim’s idea

all the money goes people got assaulted and paying for any hospital bills or anything needed

[adrianasunderworld]

🧡Dragon!RaihanxReader🧡

Drakes Keep

The townspeople live in fear of the dragon in the forest and have decided to make you the sacrifice to save them all. But perhaps the dragon isnt something to fear after all.

      This was how it ends. You thought to yourself as night descended. The only sound was the occasional breeze rustling the branches or the distant howl of a dog. You tried once again in vain to wriggle from the rope that kept you tied to the tree. Letting the back of your head hit the trunk with a thump, you bit your lip and finally allowed yourself to cry. This really was the end. 

       A dragons supper, that was your fate. The creature that called the abandoned castle home had returned, and the fear of what it could do had sent the townspeople into hysterics. Turning to the old ways once more to keep it appeased. Unfortunately for you, that had meant you were the one tossed to the beast. The old stories spoke of fair maidens and kings sons bravely sacrificing themselves for the better of others. But of course no one wanted to send their beloved children to death. But you? Orphaned and thieving,___? No one opposed that. And now you stood, hands bound to a tree as close to the Drakes Keep as they dared to bring you, waiting for death. 

     Night had finally fallen. The sound of crickets and the skittish steps of a rabbit your only company. Then as suddenly as it started, the forest was quiet and still as a grave. Even the breeze that blew the branches seemed to stop. Then the snap was heard. Then another. The crunch of leaves as if something heavy was being dragged across the ground. Then you saw it, a pair of teal blue eyes peeking out from between the trees. Tears continued to stream down your face as you locked gazes with the creature that would end. 

     "Just make it quick," you managed to choke out, throat raw from your sobbing. Not even sure if the beast could even understand you. "Please, be fast, that's all I ask."

     The dragon finally moved. It slowly stepped out of the darkness and you could see it in it's full view. It's dark midnight scales almost blended into the night, in stark contrast to the golden scales that went up its stomach and throat. It tilted its triangular head curiously as it examined its food. Your eyes snapped shut as it got closer and closer, until you felt the hot breath of your face. The wet sound of its jaws opening was heard, and you could not help but scream.

      Then the ropes went slack.

      "Relax." said a deep voice. "I wont do anything." 

     Opening your eyes, the dragon looked down at you, spitting out a piece of rope. "I...I… I dont understand." You shuddered out, wiping you tear stained face. "You arent going to eat me?"

     The dragon rolled its eyes. "Honestly, what's with these villagers and thinking I want to eat people? Of course not." 

     You removed the last bits of rope around your wrist, glancing at the dragon all the while. It wasn't going to kill you. What did it want? "So…" you began cautiously. "What now? 

       "What do you mean what now?"

       "If I'm not a meal, then what was the point of sacrifices? What is it that you want from the village."

       "Nothing." The dragon replied as if it should have been plain as day. "I never wanted any sacrifices ever. I untie them and let them go. I don't want anything from your village." 

       "But… but…" you stammered. "The missing livestock. And all those old stories about a dragon that burned the town centuries ago!"

      "My grandpa," the dragon replied. "Dont remember much about him, other than he was an old grouch. But that was a couple decades before I was even bored. as for livestock, sorry to say I was hungry. Large game have been scarce. Not my first choice, but you gotta do what you gotta do. Now," the dragon leaned down and sniffed at you, its warm breath blowing at your hair. "Who are you?"

       "-_" you stammered. 

      "And why, ___… did they decide to pick you to feed it the beast?"

      You looked down, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. "No one wanted me." You answered honestly. "They were glad to have me gone."

        The dragon sniffed once more, like a hunting hound committing a scent to memory. There was the sound of thunder out in the distance. "Well, you're free of them now." Was his only reply. "Theres another town just south of here." He pointed a claw to his left. "I can only guess you wouldn't want to go back from where you came."

     You looked back between the direction the men who had tied up went,then the dragon, then to the direction he pointed. "So...so you'll let me go? Just like that?" 

     "Just like that." He assured.

It seemed too easy. The dragon letting you go and free to start a new life far far away.  The sound of thunder drew a little closer, and with it the wind returned to rustle the trees. You shivered. They had taken your cloak when you were arrested, and obviously did not bother to give it back when you had been left to die.

     The dragon seemed to take note of this, and tilted his head curiously. "What's the matter?"

      "Cold." You admitted. "Since I can leave, do you happen to know where I could sleep for the night?"

      The dragon eyed you once more and sniffed again as if looking for something of offense. When it seemed he did not find it, the dragon turned and nodded his head towards the direction he had come. "Follow me."

      "You know my name," you said as you followed the creature further into the forest. "What's yours?"

     "Raihan." He replied. "The Great Raihan."

    "Who calls you that?" You asked,trying hard not to snort.

    "Plenty of people." He said, twigs and leaves crunching under heavy feet. "I'll have you know, I have met many a knight and king that called me a great dragon."

     "What kings? Anyone I might have heard of?"

    "All sorts," he assured. "King Lance of Kanto. Queen Cynthia of Sinnoh. And most recently, your king Leon here in Galar."

     "So tell me then, great dragon Raihan, why are you out here in the back water forests outside of my nowhere village?"

    "Just as birds migrate, so do dragons." He explained. "We go from place to place, seeking spots of comfort to rest. Making a new home for ourselves or going to old ones."

    "I take it this is an old home then?"

   "Very old." He finally stopped and gestured to an ancient stone structure. With its half crumbled towers and vine covered parapets. "Very old indeed."

   "I've only ever heard of this place." You said in awe as you walked up the stone steps of the ancient castle. "My grandmother used to tell me about the dragons lair. She and all the other elders called it The Drakes Keep."

     "That's what you humans call it, yes." Raihan replied, pushing his large scaly body against the giant oak doors to open them. "But the true name of this place is Hammerlocke. Hammerlocke Castle."

     Walking into the grand entrance, Hammerlocke caslte was oddly well kept for not having a human inhabitant for centuries. Aside from the few cracks in the stone from age, the floor was clean of dirt and debris. There was even decorative tapestries that still adorned the walls. 

     Raihan pushed against the doors once more to shut them firmly, keeping the cold out. Then you realized something.

     "Um… not to sound rude or anything. But this doesn't look like a living space, and the doorways look far too small for you." 

     "Good observation. Sadly, castle life isn't very accommodating to this form."

     "Form?"

     Instead of elaborating, Raihan showed you what he had meant. In a flash of light you saw the large creature shrink down and take the form of a very tall and very handsome young man. He stretched out and let out a sigh. "Yes form." He grinned at your shocked expression. "There are many things about dragons you don't know."  

      It turned out dragons were very hospitable. Raihan had kept the fire in the sitting room going with ease, making warmer than you had ever known. He had a sorts of finery stashed away, including good coats and blankets of the softest materials. He had explained it was in a dragons to hoard things of great interest or value. Despite that he may not have a need fancy furs to keep him warm or nice bottles of wine, they were still soft to lay on and tasty to drink, and so he kept them. 

      "I'm still surprised dragons can take human form." You commented, swaddled up nicely in the furs Raihan had loaned you, stomach full of the food he had gathered the other day.

      "Oh yes, we are creatures of magic. Dragons,unicorns, the various breeds of fae." He took a sip from the golden goblet he poured the wine into. Unlike you he seemed to not be feeling the effects of it. "We were created by magic, neither human nor animal. So we are free to choose whichever form we please."

       "Do you appear human often?" 

       He shrugged. "I'd say it's fairly even. There is a time and a place for my true form, and I do enjoy visiting cities and what not, and that only really can be done like this." He gestured to his human form. 

       "I was always told dragons would sit in caves on piles of gold. Seeking princesses and young knights to drag away. Never that they like to be tourists."

       "Everyone is different." He said. "Truth be told, all those stories are rather old fashioned. Me? I like humans. Well...some of you." He flashed you a grin, seeming to imply you were one of the likeable ones. "I suppose I've always been a rather curious one. When I was a hatchling, I would sneak off to town and play with local children."

        "Now that does not surprise me," you said playfully while returning his grin. "You strike me as the sort who was a little scamp when they were young."

      "Oh trust me, you are not far off." He chuckled. "My parents could do nothing to keep me away. Everywhere we went, I sought out people, and when I was grown I went all over. I learned to read in many of your human tongues. Learned histories of every land I could. Befriended as many as I could."

      "That sounds amazing," you said wistfully. The life he described sounded like it could have only existed in a novel. You had never been able to venture out past the borders of the village. "I envy you, Raihan. I've never known such freedom." 

      "Well now you can." He replied. "All those townspeople think you won't return. You can start somewhere else."

      Looking down at your own golden cup, your reflection stared back in the red wine. Never go back...that certainly was not the problem. They would not miss you, and you would not miss them. But what kind of life could you have out there? "I doubt wherever I go will be much better."

      "And why is that?"

      "...Once a thieving urchin, always a thieving urchin." You said with all the resentment in you. That brand had followed you over half your life, and odds are it would follow you to the grave.

       "I take it that's why they tied you up to be sacrificed." Looking up, Raihans face portrayed no emotion. Part of you wondered if now he was disgusted knowing he let a thief in here, or maybe he pitied you. Honestly you weren't sure which would feel worse.

        You nodded. "When I was ten, my parents died. My grandmother long gone years before. My father's shop had caught fire, you see. And suddenly I was an orphan. No money, no home, no family. No one wanted to help. I had nothing, and so to the townspeople I was nothing.I did the only thing I could do: I stole to keep myself alive. I was arrested now and then, but I always got out. But the more I did it, the better I was at not getting caught. Well, until recently. And I think you know how that went." 

         "I wish I could say this is the first I've heard something like this, but it does seem like a sad reality to humans."  Raihans face then turned to concern as he reached out to put a hand in your shoulder. It wasn't until the tears were welling in your eyes a moment later did you realize it was because you were on the verge of crying. The events of today finally sinking in. Then he added. "But that doesn't mean you cant move on from it. Trust me, I've lived long enough to know what I'm talking about. Some of the best people I've known have lead similar beginnings to yours. I know it must feel awful now, but it'll get better. I promise."

      "You can't promise anything." You said, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. "What am I going to do in this new town? All I know is how to steal. I'll just end up back where I was."

      "I mean, you could add some flare." He said jokingly. "I'd say you'd make a handsome jewel thief that steals hearts along the way." 

      You couldn't help but snort. "That is absolutely ridiculous." 

      "It's merely a suggestion." He grinned. "All I'm saying is why not have some fun with your self fulfilling prophecy?" 

      You paused for a moment. "...What was it like? When you first left to travel?"

     "A bit frightful." He admitted. "But exciting. Often times lonely."

     "Lonely?"

     Raihan nodded. "Yes, dragons, though we live long, are few and far between. Besides my family, it would be a few years before I saw another of my kind. Those stories you talked about of maidens in towers, I can assure you the reason was never malicious. Those drakes did it more for companionship than anything else."

      "You make it sound like you speak from experience."

      "Well…"

      "Raihan, you didn't!"

      "Oh I assure you ___," he smirked like an absolute cad and winked. "All princesses under my protection were there willingly.  And treated very well, if I do say so myself." Your face flushed at what he was implying, and Raihan bursted out laughing.

      After a moment you began to laugh as well. It had been so long since you could sit like this and be friendly with anyone. Raihan was so good natured, it felt like it would be a challenge not to like him. "Are you going to stay in this castle long?" You asked. Wondering if it would be forward to ask if you could visit him from time to time after parting ways.

      "For a few weeks," he said, taking a long drink from his goblet. "Then off to Wyndon."

      "Wyndon? As in the capital city Wyndon?"

       "The one and only. Off to visit a friend for the spring."

      Part of you felt a bit disappointed for him to be leaving so soon. "I hope you enjoy it, " you said,meaning it. "I admit, I'll miss your company."

     "Then dont miss me."

     "What?"

     "Come with me, I could use a travel companion."

     "What would I possibly do in Wyndon?" Even as you said it, your mind raced with the possibilities. You had only heard in passing of the great city where King Leon held court. Of its beautiful building and the wealth of opportunities to be found there.

      "What couldn't you do?" He replied. "The better question is what do you have to lose? Be my travel buddy, ___. See lands beyond this forest. Hear languages you've never heard. Rub elbows with royalty. If you don't like it I can drop you off in that village south of here, how does that sound? Unless of course you're considering being a heartbreaking jewel thief. In which case I wholeheartedly endorse your decision."

        You thought it over and over. Be a dragons companion. Go to the capital and regions beyond. Or go to some other backwater town and possibly live in the mud once more. It wasn't a very hard decision. "I'll take you up on that offer."

       Raihan smiled, a small fang poking at his bottom lip. He tapped his golden cup against yours. "Cheers. We ride in two weeks time."

[tatianafarenheit]

Devourer (open ending)

TW: GORE, slight lime,

It was pouring. The wind was howling woefully while it quickly rushed trought the trembling leafs of the Wangshu Inn’s Foundation of a tree. Even the sound of the other travelers, stopping for the night, was drowned by the white noise that rang trough-out the halls of the Inn, creating a terribly uncomfortable sensation of chaos. Xiao hated these kind of nights where the inn was bustling more than usual, and the fact that his only remaining comrade from the war was near him did not comfort him either.

He felt restrained almost rigid at the heavy awkwardness that strangled the room for the past two hours. Neither him or Yanay said a single word since they first reunited and Xiao’s mind was near overheating while trying to think of something to say.

His attempts where rewarded with emptiness and that frustrated him. He hated feeling like a kid, palms almost sweaty because he could not communicate with the only being that experienced the same pain he did, the only being who also had to witness the same horrors of war and was unfortunate enough to live on to tell the story.

Truth be told, they didn’t end on the best terms. Xiao blamed Yanay for years for the cause of his comrades deaths and vice versa, only to realize later that the person to blame was the misleading messenger between them. Yanay didnt in fact given the wrong orders, the messenger did and Xiao in fact did not leave his friends to die because he ran off, he was just too late to help.

Every since the truth emerged the both of them felt uncomfortably awkward next to each other, stuck between feeling a need to apologize and not wanting to open the wound that the sorrowful memories left behind. How easy it would be if stolen glances could be an actual form of communication. Yanay hearts raced while looking at Xiao, she felt a painful voide eating away at her heart while she looked at the broken man, a small fragment of what he used to be, almost like a living memory of the past, a guardian cursed to carry and reopen his old wounds each time he looked around him. Every single fragment of Liyue was a breathing reminder of what happened upon its lands all those years ago.

Yanay managed to find herself a new purpose, or more like the purpose found her. Ningguan found the resentful and nugatory girl and could not help but see potential in her, a woman that only needed someone to open her eyes. Ningguan offered her a job and a promise of a new start, a painfully docile life, she promised she would never have to suffer again and so Yanay followed her. Ningguan’s helping hand helped Yanay wake up, but only by her own will did she only find herself again, patching up her still bleeding old wounds hoping that one day they would stop…but they still bleed to this day.

Thats the difference between Xiao and Yanay is that Xiao accepted it, came to terms with the brokenness his whole existence represents, he got accustomed to the horrible misey that chews and spits him out every time he breathes, so accustomed to it to the point he doesnt feel it anymore. Yanay on the other hand could not, her mind still whispers menacingly to her, each time her eyelids tremble shut, the terrifying truth she had to endure. And each time, she fights it, she refuses it wholeheartedly, her resistance only making everything burn even more and even deeper.

“Im going to sleep” Yanay whispered and Xiao heard it, looking away and only giving a hum as a response. He felt bad, truly, he wish he could speak to her more, to apologize, to tell her that he can be there- but his savage heart wont let him, his prode chaining his mouth shut so he could not get himself hurt more. He tried to justify his actions by saying things such as ‘she wouldn’t care anyway’; ‘it would not help her so whats the point?’ But Xiao forgot to consider how much Yanay cared for such small things, how much she cherished in the back of her rotting soul the fact that someone thought that she deserved an apology.

Yanay laid down, her back facing Xiao, afraid of letting him see her composure falling apart each second she was next to him. And so with one last heavy puff of air her eyes closed. Xiao soon followed laying as far away as possible from her.

Xiao was awoken by the sound of the sheets being tousled around and as he looked in Yanays direction he could only see her figure hunched over. “Why are you awake?” He said in a gruff voice, slight annoyance tainting his tone from being awoken this early in the night. What he saw next made him freeze up, his blood turned cold and eyes froze open. Yanay looked back at him with tears in her wide eyes “Take them away-“ she barely whispered, her voice trembling along with the hands that gripped her sides in a crushing strenght.

Xiao felt like his world crashed down onto him, his veins thinning as he looked the the now seemingly vulnerable woman in front of him. His whole idea of who Yanay is was completely ruined, hes never seen her like this. So fragile and so… brittle- It was almost like someone’s possessed her body.

“You can eat dreams, right? Please-“ the girl cut herself short, her eyes scanning him frantically. She knew she was asking for too much, she felt it so deep in her bones that they felt like they might snap-. “I know im asking for too much but please- take them! Devour them until theres not even a single one that escapes!” Her voice was getting more and more unstable, her gaze running over the room back and forth, avoiding his apparent burning gaze. He just stared for a second, it all felt unreal to him. His breathing got labored and heavy as he saw the marking scene before him. A warrior turned to a broken maiden, looking for a kind of alleviation that only he could bring her.

Yanay took his silence as a refusal, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as she turned back to her hunched position. His gaze felt unbearably heavy on her back, almost quelling her to the point she felt minuscule. “Never mind- it was stupid of me to ask that. Please forget i ever said anything.” There it goes again, the voice Xiao was so accustomed to. He couldn’t help but feel a wave of disappointment wash over him.

Without rationality he reached out to her, his fingers grabbing onto her shoulder and turning her around a bit more harshly than what he meant.

Yanay jumped, her composure falling apart by his own hand. “Tell me what dreams im looking for..” his voice was awfully soft, so soft that it made a small electric string run up Yanay’s spine, a wave of ecstasy running over her body. But once the realization of what he really asked hit her, her eyes turned dark and cold. The kind of eyes Xiao used to have, so he immediately knew what he had to look for. “I will help you but-“ it was now his turn to look away in embarrassment, his face feeling way too scorching all of the sudden.

Yanay stared at him and thought of how she’s never looked at him in this kind of light before, he was absolutely breathtaking and innocent, not a shred of bad ill painted onto his face and so yet again she felt selfish for never trying to understand him- and now- here she is, asking him to do something that he most likely won’t enjoy. “Its gonna be a hell of a lot to take in, not only for you but me as well.” He continued and turned back to look at her. She almost gasped once her eyes met his, shes never seen them so close in order to see the true intensity they held. His gaze pierced trough her with such power that her breathy hitched. She only nodded. Xiao sighed, his fingers now trembling onto her skin knowing that whats about to come wont be able to be erased. Yanay’s perception of him was about to change even more.

“Turn around for me..” his voice was almost a whisper but still so moving that it made goosebumps rise on Yanay’s skin. She eagerly complied, her shoulders relaxing under his vexing touch. As she tuned around the sound around her began to fade, her attention fully concentrated onto Xiao. The next thing she felt was his chest pressed against her back, so tender yet so much pressure. She had to restrain herself from releasing a shuddered gasp once his body connected to hers. Her skin lit up, nerves trembling deliciously. Xiao felt it too, his eyes closing shut as he bit back a groan, his hands rose next to Yanays own hands, almost afraid of touching her thinking that shes gonna break. He was afraid that she’s gonna be repulsed by his touch but nonetheless he placed his hands in front of Yanay’s torso. “Grab onto one of my hands and relax into me.” He said again, his breath gently caressing Yanay’s ear shell.

Yanay’s lucidity began to dissolve, he was so close oh so close that if she turned around she could kiss him…to bad that will never be an option. After regaining a fracture of her rationality back, she complied to his words, her hand gripping one of his while she relaxed fully into him. His other hand gripped her jaw and moved it so that her face was right under his. Her eyes opened and looked at Xiao with such an irresistible innocence that he almost lost it. It was refreshing to see his comrade so complying and so sweetly vulnerable. Xiao leaned his head in, his lips barely above hers, so close that she could feel the heat coming from his face.

“Tell me when you if want me to stop..” he said against her lips before they met. Yanay’s heart felt like it was imploding, beating so hard and fast that it almost punched trough her ribcage but what came next took Yanay by surprise even more. Her limbs started to feel like putty, so soft and light. While her mind started to become intoxicated and slow, she wasn’t thinking of anything but Xiao and the overwhelmingly pleasurable feeling that started to spread inside her. It almost felt like and aphrodisiac, her body disconnecting from her mind, detaching so much that it almost felt like another person possessing her body. Xiao felt the affects too, his hand gripping Yanay’s jaw harder as he leaned his head in more, deepening the kiss, his tongue running hungrily over hers. While he knew that he was supposed to focus only on devouring Yanay’s horrible nightmares he couldn’t help but indulge in the sweet release that she was, a breath of fresh air. He wanted to claim her, to make her heal him with just her presence and maybe he could help her by erasing every parasitic nightmare that plagued her thoughts every night, but that wouldn’t be healthy and he knew it.

Yanay tried so hard to grip onto her lucidity but the more she tried the damned thing ran further and further away. Her flesh felt like smoldering cinder while her stomach felt like a void, it felt like feathers were running over her skin. She was so overwhelmed that she almost passed out from the electrifying feeling that he induced. Xiaos hand left hers and opted for her waist, digging his fingers in and dragging her torso impossibly closer to his. She was so delicious that it drove him mad, forget the damned nightmares he wanted to devour her. To rip her ignorant facade apart and watch her true face show itself from the ruins that he alone tore down.

His hunger was cut short when he finally reached the nightmares he was looking for and they were exactly as he expected. Corpses rotting on the muddy field while tired soldiers pushed on whith their last breath, people screaming and crying and the worst of all, the feeling of being helpless, powerless, the feeling of having to watch knowing you cant change a god damn thing.

He couldnt stand looking at the dreadfully realistic replicas of the past so he started tearing them down, devouring the from the most affecting ones to the lesser. He tore them down with each movemnt of his lips against hers and she couldnt have been more grateful. Suddenly his kisses turned from exhilarating to melting. His movements so soft and tender that Yanay felt like she was about to burst. She never realized how much she craved this feeling before and now- now she couldnt get enough of it, she was frightened that if he touched her like that one more time shed forever be bound to him, craving him each second of her existence. Her hand slowly moved to the nape of his neck, softly caressing his satin like hair.

Xiao couldnt do anything but melt under her gentle touch, his mind finally going at ease after all of these tormenting years he had to indure all alone. Afraid as if shed disappear from his desperate clutch, he held her closer, relishing into this intoxicatingly serene moment. Oh how he truly wished they could stay like this more…

[mostlikelyshutup]

thoughts while watching the first harry potter:

listen i started this list a little late im ngl but notable thoughts so far are me thinking of dumbledore as a gay idiot and still loving hagrid

do you think hes speaking in parseltongue in the zoo when hes speaking to the snake

forgot boats existed

these idiots do scream a lot dont they

i forgot how light hearted this universe really is in the first couple movies

yer a wizard harry, okay hagrid maybe slide him into it a little better

we get it tuney you have fucking trauma, doesnt mean you should abuse a child

hasnt everyone had their name down since they were born, hagrid? theres a list

i like that his umbrella is pink

are you paying for those damages hargid? stop taking the door off the hinges

though, if the dursleys are, keep breaking shit

speaking about dragons on the the fucking tube, its a miracle harry didnt get in trouble with the ministry sooner

what is hagrid's usual? does anyone know???

fucking Quirrell, cant wait for your epic love story with the dark lord

maybe we should tell the 12 year old how the fuck everyone knows his name, just maybe

they do a great job of getting the wonder down pat

how much money and licensing do you think it took for them to get all these owls on set

ahh yes, antisemitism the bank

how many vaults are in gringotts?? also if harry's vault is the potters vault, a literal like sacred 28 family, one of the original families, and its number 600 something, how many were there before the potters?? did the potters get a vault recently? or is this james and lily's vault?? how rich were james and lily if so??

look at ollivander, crazy tinker uncle, love him

this might be the socialist in me but why do people have to pay for wands if everyone needs one??

why is the dark lords twin wand just sitting around on the shelf, ollie me boy??

do you think thats Harry's true wand or do you think thats because of the horcux thing?? do you harry had to get another wand after he died?? did he? i dont remember the last movie

is ollie me boys actor wearing contacts or are his eyes just like that??

thats a very weird way of showing Halloween 81, very misleading

hagrid said ill predict voldys rise in the first movie so we can have some plot development

hagrid is late to everything isnt he? i can feel it in my bones

i swear ive seen these movies, and ive even read the first book, i just dont remember shit

youd think theyd have someone in the know stationed close to the entrance for the platform, for any muggleborns

ginnys actress really had no fucking lines in this movie did she, just had to stand there

oh wait she said good luck

amazing work ginny

ooh a warm filter

can muggles see the express? like just running from london to scotland

wicked!

you didnt have to show the woman the sad sandwich ron

i think the trolly replenishes magically, i think thats how thats how that works, i want to believe that

god i cant tell if i would love or hate hermione, shes pretentious but so was i at that age

god dont fucking point your wand right in someones face mione

how does mione know who harry is?? why does she care?

look at the tiny first years, might just go and pinch theyre cheeks

MINNIEEEE i love you minnie

looking stunning minnie, the green brings out the sternness in your brow

you go minnie, give your speech, thats my head of house

shut up draco, youre not bond

you pretentious fuckwit, your hair is brassy anyways

if this is a class of kids born in the middle of a war, how big are the usual class sizes wtf

THE FUCKING CLAP

fucking propaganda ron, you slytherin hater

what order are these names going in, did they just randomized the list

oooh we get quiet for the boy who lived, jesus let him keep living

the fact that for the rest of these people its just silent is so fucking funny to me, Harry's just fucking whispering to himself

get their attention minnie

me dads a muggle, mums a witch, bit of a shock for him when he found out

NICK, love to see you buddy

i have no emotional attachment to peeves but i feel i should mention him here

the stairs still piss me off, why the fuck would you make moving stair cases

who sets out gloves for the next day? am i the weird one who doesnt??

Minnie, you are the love of my life

shut up snape you dramatic bloodpurist incel

i know theyre setting him up to be mistaken as the villain but jesus christ hes still an asshole

your robes Neville, you forgot your robes

its weird how they have to learn all these latin charms yet only have to say up to get their brooms to work

why wont you go after him, hes obviously not exactly in control, Hooch

does Hooch only teach first years? she is quite literally the equivalent of a history teacher who coaches football

what the fuck is Quirells classroom

they dont make the house teams because no first years can try out, Ron

MINNIE PLAYED QUIDDITCH?!?!? WHY DIDN'T I KNOW THIS

why didnt you speak up earlier Mione wtf

bc the fire wont give you away, harry, better hide

FLUFFY, WHOS A GOOD BOY

they have much worse things locked up in the school, Ron

Oliver wood is a bloody liar because i still dont fuckign understand quidditch, also theres like 500 rules, wtf

thats a shitty explanation of how the game works, Oliver

BLOW IT UP SEAMUS

SHES TWO FEET BEHIND YOU RON YOU IDIOT

carrot cake? on halloween?

dont shrug as if you didnt literally bully her ron

thought youd oughta know, bit of an understatement Quirell

no duh the trolls left the dungeon ron

lying: the best start to any friendship

we're at a net zero points for gryffindor for the year at the moment

the amount of interaction these kids have with professors is so weird to me, is this what small class size do to kids?? its weird

not comforting Oliver

Okay i understand Oliver simps now, I get it okay

are there no backups or subs for quidditch? feels like there should be, like of all the games

set him on fire mione, i know hes not the villain of the movie but god he sucks

fancy flying from harry fucking potter

okay but also i feel like there are some things we should not trust hagrid with, like hes not that great at keeping secrets

why is harry excited about christmas if he thinks hes not getting presents? i knw there are other aspects but like thats the only reasont o get up early

i always remember this scene at night for some reason??

not just an invisibility cloak, THE invisibility cloak ron

btw who gives it to harry? is it remus? is it dumbledore? is it like an inheritance thing? whats up with that?

there are jumpscares in harry potter

he very much can hide, filch

stop being a narc mrs norris

does harry even know what his parents look like at this point? how does he know who the fuck is in the mirror of erised?? he doesnt have that stupid scrapbook yet does he

oh they nod, sure lets clear up that plot hole

they shouldve put sirius and remus in the mirror in that scene, shown his whole family, wouldve been a nice setup

how does rupert grint already look so tired as a twelve year old

big speech to give to a twelve year old Dumbledore, when you wont even tell him what you see

Emma really does just slam that book on Daniels hand, thats mustve fucking sucked

the fact that ive watched two movies that had Nicholas Flamel in two very different roles this year is very strange to me

well thats probably on account of it being a fucking dragon egg hagrid, now isnt it?

was hagrid a hufflepuff? i think he was, maybe a ravenclaw

yes four, you blonde idiot

that shot is really nice, it sets them apart

what happened to filch to make him such a miserable man?

ooh mention of werewolves, awooo werewolves of london

yeah just dip your whole hand in hagrid, dont be scared of the strange liquid, take a nice little bath

i loev that dog, i want that dog, i want to hug that dog

god just the look of that forest is so bloody cool

wait so is that quirell walking fucking backwards?

maybe ask who the fuck youre talking to before asking other questions??? wtf harry

why are yout talking to the centaur like hes your old friend harry, youve literally never met him before

snape doesnt want the stone at all Harry

god hagrid you sweet stupid man

snape is completely valid for that, if a twelve year old ever looked at me like that i would punch them

Do you think people ever loose invisibility cloaks? like theyre invisible do you think they ever just never get found again

i hate the look of the dog spit, that is so gross

they really left everything in except for the fucking potions didnt they, damn

harry potter walked so queens gambit could run

hermione, posted up

rons stupid in the later movies because he got a concussion as a twelve year old

god harry really posted up to beat up snape in fucking khakis

"I knew you were a danger to me!" Hes twelve, Quirell

let me wait for this weird dude to unravel his head scarf instead of running away

the magic in this movie is real fucking conditional isnt it

just some casual necromancy for the stone? you sure about that voldy, you two faced bitch?

let me choke out this twelve year old real quick

oh yeah why is he able to just avengers endgame Quirell? is there an answer to that? like was that ever found out

do you think voldy passing by him while he hold the stone actually killed him but since he holds the stone hes functionally unkillable and then some magic gets put into him and thats why he can return to life later when he actually goes to the whole afterlife place?

ohhh we're vouching on the blood magic for the endgaming of Quirell

do you think dumbledore came across the vomit flavored bean before or after his sister died?

Mione's got a headband! Looking snazzy!

how did Hufflepuff only get 352 points? Gryffindor literally lost 150 points this year and they only beat them by 50, wtf, is it because they kept getting caught with weed

I wont even speak on the fucking outrage that is this point awarding, its already been spoken on. However, Neville shouldve gotten more points

What if someone just stood up and started challenging Dumbledores math, that would be so funny

some of these extras are really attractive

but james potter is somehow so fucking ugly why did they do that to my mans

hagrid deserves the last shot of this film, i love him, he deserves everything, that stupid sweet man

[bladekindeyewear]

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-08-23

More homestuuuuuck

I’m a little tired today so I don’t expect much intelligent analysis out of myself, but if anything classpecty happens I doubt I’ll be able to help myself regardless.

oh, always

(EDITS: added note on horn colors, link to ask on potential Blood powers reference)

> CHAPTER 12. Really Convoluted Metaphorical Horseshit

cuuute

In the bowels of a different ship, at a moment in time that is not pinpointable in either direction from the previous interaction, another Dave raps quietly to himself.

another dave raps quietly to himself.  i am glad that phrase exists it brings me joy

(LATER EDIT: A friend on Discord pointed out that throughout this entire update, Karkat's horns are #FF0000 red. They were normal candy-corn colors in previous glimpses at the ship crew, though they used a dark single-color shortcut typical of old Homestuck at one point... but THIS time it stays STARK red even when we zoom in close later. Is this just artistic liberty? Did Karkat color his horns for fashion? Does this happen to red-bloods like the Sufferer after a certain age? Just how much time has actually passed, here? We might have to wait for the commentary for this one.)

KARKAT: I WAS SAYING I THOUGHT WE MIGHT GO, I DUNNO, ANYWHERE ELSE ON THE ENTIRE SHIP WHILE THE CLOTHES WERE WASHING. KARKAT: SEEING AS THIS DECREPIT MACHINE WE WERE SO BLESSEDLY PROVIDED WITH MAKES A WHIRRING SOUND SO PANCHAFINGLY ARHYTHMIC THAT IT THREATENS TO ERADICATE THE ENTIRE CONCEPT OF TEMPO FROM THE UNIVERSE.

Karkat really has chilled out hasnt he?  like this is surprisingly level for him, and that fact is hilarious.

KARKAT: AND YET SOMEHOW BASICALLY ALL THAT HAS HAPPENED SINCE WE STARTED THE LOAD IS THAT YOU’VE BEEN USING IT AS A FUCKED UP BEAT TO WHISPER TO YOURSELF ABOUT FLOWERS TO.

oh gosh that’s why he’s rapping

> ==>

DAVE: kanaya was telling me this kids story the other day about this dude who didnt cherish a flower enough until it peaced out to do flower stuff idk its not pertinent to the story DAVE: except the flower was a person DAVE: because it was a metaphor

Oh right, coming back to the Little Prince stuff I was too lazy to metaphor-deep-dive into, and literally asking the same questions we were asking about who the Little Prince’s story applies to mapped here if anyone at all, like Dirk and such, or what biases were in the retelling of it and the way Kanaya phrased it.  So now we’re practically mocking it by deep diving it here, hence the last page’s “DAVE: i was just thinking through some really convoluted metaphorical horseshit”, which means we’re both about to further explore AND shit all over the existence of this story metaphor until it doesn’t mean anything and most of the meaning we drew from it earlier is made a joke~

well, not “we”, cause I was too lazy, so... y’all

DAVE: anyway what goes down in the story is that once the flower lady is out of the picture DAVE: the main character goes around making all these connections between her and everything else in the universe until every damn thing feels like a symbol for how much he fucked up and how much he will never see her again KARKAT: THIS SEEMS PRETTY FUCKING INTENSE FOR A KID'S STORY DAVE: yea thats pretty much what i said

Oh holy shit.  That’s yet another way to put it.  Are we doing a whole moral takedown of the Light aspect today?  cause it sounds like we’re taking a dump on the Light aspect and RoboRose getting too obsessed and immersed in it, which would be excellent

DAVE: but i guess its not so much what the story was technically textually about but more like the version of it kanaya internalized and then told me when we were talkin about how she misses rose

exactly

DAVE: so like now im taking the story she told me she was projecting her feelings onto and projecting my feelings on top of that

yes absolutely, you just rephrased it a different way with that exact same bias

DAVE: this is just one big game of emotional projection telephone so feel free to go paraphrase it to roxy later and make it about whatever fuckin thing youre currently missing

perfect. i need an emoji for that Italian thing for when you pinch your thumb and forefinger together and kiss it

ah this’ll do:

its like the expression “choice” but in nonverbal form

[...] whatever fuckin thing youre currently missing KARKAT: YOUR ABILITY TO GET TO THE POINT DAVE: gotem DAVE: anyway you’re not gonna have to miss that skill of mine for long DAVE: get ready for this shit because i am about to slap you with the point so hard youll fall ass first into the washer DAVE: just scrambling around in there getting all sudsy DAVE: but your brain is gonna be so blasted from the mindfreak of a point im about to make that there wont be anything left to clean

Anytime dave is told to get to the point he is contractually obligated to spend at least 20 seconds talking about how he’ll get to the point in a way that is not getting to the point

DAVE: so its genuinely cool that kanaya can go around creating meaning that may or may not be actually present in every little thing DAVE: connecting every feeling she has to the idea of her wife existing out there DAVE: so i told her she should keep that shit up DAVE: but im having the opposite issue where im struggling to find anything to be that kind of tether because every single thing i could possibly consider about what it is were doing just reminds me of yet another thing to be afraid about

Great examples of Light being good and bad!  Attaching strands of connective meaning to everything.  --though, in Dave’s case AND Kanaya’s case you could argue it’s both bad in terms of effects.  That it’s great for Kanaya to care, but that she should be able to divest herself and live on her own terms without idealizing Rose literally everywhere she looks, personal growth which would be useful in helping bring Rose back to her in the first place.  The struggle they’re looking forward to is largely philosophical, not just physical, and until Rosebot acknowledges that she was wrong it’s not over.

DAVE: everything fuckin sucks huge cosmic donkey sack and im terrified KARKAT: OK, SO I FEEL LIKE YOU SKIPPED A COUPLE NECESSARY STEPS IN YOUR POINT CLARIFICATION PROCESS.

Pretty sure Dave was on the same page as most Epilogue and start-of-HS2 readers.  This situation is pretty bleak to dump our heroes into, no matter how much we believe will be resolved in the long run.

DAVE: ok but were you going with sweet or savory please give me that much at least KARKAT: YEAH IT WAS GOING TO BE SUNDAE-BASED. DAVE: nice KARKAT: YEAH. KARKAT: DO YOU WANNA WATCH MORE GBBO AFTER THIS? DAVE: absolutely

--ah, Great British Bake-Off, can’t say I’ve indulged

do they still have that?? did they save it from old Earth?  or did they go where unflooded Britain used to be and say hey, new show reboot

KARKAT: GREAT. ANYWAY, LIKE I WAS SAYING, FOR THE LOVE OF SWEET HUMAN CHRIST, PLEASE BACK UP TO WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU’RE ACTUALLY SCARED OF. KARKAT: ALSO COME HERE, IDIOT.

That last line is like, exactly as fucking sweet and awesome as we imagined their relationship to be.  :)

> ==>

OH MY GOD THAT’S ADORABLE

DAVE: ok yeah this is a better position to unleash all my inner fears n anxieties from

indisputably.

DAVE: those times its like my mouth was saying words about the situation wherein our friends are AWOL and maybe dead but my brain wasnt fully letting me experience the emotion that goes along with them DAVE: man its like i cant even start genuinely thinking about how afraid i actually am for rose and john without my brain flippin its wad and whiting out DAVE: like haha fuck i hope theyre ok DAVE: now i better make a fuckin joke before i succumb to the gaping mouth of despair waiting for me to fall in it as soon as i look down and acknowledge that its there ogling how juicy my ass looks as it trembles with terror

I really hope that the writers of HS2 know full well that this feeling? the one Dave is describing here? is what many of us who got way overinvested in the well-being of Homestuck’s surviving characters felt reading the Epilogues and Homestuck^2.  So I really hope they’re working through it in a way that will result in a preponderance of GOOD THINGS happening and hope-filled situations.  Cause that “can’t even think about X” feeling is too familiar, and if they understand it as well as it LOOKS like they’re getting to, I’d really like them to give us a helping hand healing.

I think that’s what they’re going for?  Seems hopeful for me to think so, but they HAVE been doing better as HS2 has been going forward, from an emotional standpoint anyway; definitely better than the Epilogues.  And I’ve worked through some of that stuff with the help of that, because it’s MUCH easier nowadays to think about Homestuck without my gut clenching.

DAVE: i guess im just fucked up about how to worry about dirk and be angry at him at the same time DAVE: because if i get as unholy pissed at him as i sometimes wanna be i also gotta admit to myself that maybe i coulda done something different there

Mhmm, Karkat’s potentially a pretty good person to speak with here since he’s done so much work trying not to feel responsible for everything that’s ever gone wrong.

DAVE: also like DAVE: and this by the way adds a whole other layer of guilt on there that i dont really know how to fuckin reckon with but DAVE: even with all the shit hes pulled and the fact that we are more or less heading toward having to take him down DAVE: whatever that is gonna mean and whether or not he planned it like that DAVE: i just DAVE: me and him had come so far with each other and it was really cool for a while to have him and i DAVE: ugh DAVE: i dont WANT to hate him

Yeah, Dirk and Jane’s heel-turns were really shitty for anyone who was a fan of them in the fanbase, as well.

KARKAT: WELL THEN QUIT FUCKING PICKING AT THE SEAM ON MY SHORTS AND SPIT IT OUT. THEY'RE BARELY HANGING ON TO THE DEFINITION OF "SHORTS" AS IT IS.

That is an adorably real boyfriend-laying-in-boyfriend’s-lap thing to do

DAVE: the part i mentioned before about how we really have no goddamn clue how long this trip is even gonna take DAVE: i cant help but feel like its barely getting revved up DAVE: and for me and roxy and jade and callie and kan thats normal shit at best and boring at worst but we all have our immortality to thank for that DAVE: we can just dick around in space for near-eternity waiting to catch up to our friends who may or may not be our enemies now and itll be fine DAVE: i mean no itll be categorically miserable DAVE: but well survive it KARKAT: HOLD THE FUCK ON. DAVE: but you KARKAT: DAVE. DAVE: no lemme say this

Oh god damnit.  Karkat’s limited lifespan.  As if we hadn’t ALREADY covered a nauseatingly extensive gamut of disheartening topics of conversation.  We really have to confront every shred of misery in their past, present and future one after the other after the other in the Epilogues and HS2, don’t we?  >:(

I guess it had to be discussed, though.

DAVE: we dont talk about it much and i got shit to say about it DAVE: its not like i never thought about how youre mortal before but i just thought wed be able to figure it out before it mattered DAVE: come up with some kind of plan DAVE: i was just distracted being happy with you i fucking guess and so i didnt think up a way to fix it DAVE: and now thanks to dirk we have to work it out right the fuck now DAVE: because i cant spend this trip just sitting around watching you get old and die

Jesus.  I mean, WE know(?) that it’s not gonna be THAT many years, but THEY don’t know that.

Unless it really IS going to be that many years and HS2 is going to shamelessly take a fucking sledgehammer to our feelings for no goddamn good reason.  Which it won’t!  Right???  >:T

> ==>

Dishwasher ding

> Dave: Grapple with the clean, soggy consequences of the passage of time.

Hey, don’t make it a metaphor here. --though, fuck.  I suppose we are dealing with everyones dirty laundry.  God damnit.  SURE, deal with it all story but then GET IT OUT OF THE WAY AND PUT SOME SERIOUS FUN AND LAUGHS IN HERE so we don’t feel like we’re wading through an entire garbage dump!!!  *click*

Karkat’s eyebrows-only mouthless frown is really cute.

> ==>

okay Karkat explain the nope you’re lodging

> ==>

*put*

> ==>

*foot*

> ==>

DAVE: ok go on

I mean I at least appreciate the time investment in adorable boyfriends.  That’s definitely something of SOME good value they’re giving us in exchange for this misery

> ==>

That Karkat image makes me wanna do that red-shaky-gif-thing with it

KARKAT: IT'S NOT LIKE I'M NEW TO THE PARTICULAR MOOBEAST WRANGLING EVENT OF SOMEONE I PREVIOUSLY LOVED BRUTALLY TURNING ON ME AND LEAVING ME TO TRY AND CRAM MY FEELINGS ABOUT THE SITUATION BACK TOGETHER ALL ON MY OWN.

True

KARKAT: HE DID THAT ON HIS OWN. AND WE MADE THE CHOICE TO GO AFTER HIM ON OUR OWN.

Yes, and you’ll possibly convince him more of that over time, though not in this short conversation

KARKAT: I WAS FOLLOWING YOUR LITTLE TRAIL OF COOKIE CRUMB FEARS UNTIL IT LEAD TO THE BIG SNACK FINALE OF WORRY ABOUT MY FRAGILE MORTAL MEATSACK. KARKAT: IF I HAVE SOMEHOW NOT BEEN CLEAR ABOUT THIS WITH YOU YET, LET ME GO AHEAD AND RECTIFY THE SITUATION RIGHT THE FUCK NOW. KARKAT: HANGING OUT WITH YOU ON THIS LONG TRIP TO WHO THE SHITTING FUCK KNOWS WHERE IS QUITE LITERALLY THE HAPPIEST I HAVE EVER BEEN IN MY ENTIRE MEAGER EXISTENCE. KARKAT: I'M SO ABSOLUTELY BLISSED THE FUCK OUT OF MY MIND TO BE ABLE TO LOOK AT YOUR STUPID IMMORTALLY SMOOTH HUMAN FACE SKIN EVERY DAY AND NOT HAVE A COMPLEX ABOUT IT.

D’AWWW

And with that darkly angry expression too, that’s PERFECT

I mean it’s true.  What exactly would they be doing DIFFERENTLY on Earth C other than enjoying each other like this?  It’s pretty fucking great.

...hm.  Isn’t this journey-not-the-destination stuff pretty Breathy?  Karkat’s proving more balanced by the moment.

KARKAT: AND I'LL BE STRAIGHT WITH YOU. IT'S NOT LIKE I HAVEN'T BEEN EXPERIENCING SOME COMPLICATED GUILT, MYSELF. KARKAT: THE FACT THAT I'M HAVING THE TIME OF MY LIFE JUST FUCKING CHILLAXING AND BEING IN LOVE IN SPACE IS A CLEARLY INCONGRUOUS WITH THE REASON I'M ACTUALLY HERE CHILLAXING TO BEGIN WITH, AND I'M NOT LETTING MYSELF FORGET THAT, EITHER.

Pff.  He feels guilty for ENJOYING IT so much.  <3

KARKAT: BUT I RESENT THE IMPLICATION THAT MY HAPPINESS IS REGISTERING FOR YOU AS YOU HAVING TO JUST "SIT AROUND AND WATCH ME GET OLD," BECAUSE I KNOW YOU KNOW IT'S MORE THAN THAT.

I’m glad Karkat knows that DAVE knows somewhere in him that it’s more than that, because yeah, if Karkat thought he DIDN’T know that at some level that’d be a reason to take MUCH MORE SERIOUS offense.

KARKAT: LIKE, JESUS, DAVE. YOU KNOW I'M AFRAID FOR YOU, TOO, RIGHT? KARKAT: OR DID YOU FORGET THE WHOLE HEROIC DEATH THING? KARKAT: I WORRY ABOUT LOSING YOU FAIRLY FUCKING REGULARLY.

Hah!!!  Point taken.  Karkat must view Dave as practically more fragile than HIM.

KARKAT: ONE: WE'VE BEEN THROUGH SO MUCH HELLACIOUS PANWARPING TRAUMA THAT I REFUSE TO NOT ENJOY THIS SHIT WHEN I FINALLY FUCKING GET IT, NO MATTER HOW LONG IT MAY OR MAY NOT LAST. KARKAT: TWO: IT'S NOT LIKE WE'RE DOING NOTHING. WE’RE MOVING. WE’RE WORKING. WE’RE HEADED SPECIFICALLY TO A PLACE WHERE WE WILL UNDOUBTLEDLY ENDURE YET MORE FUCKING HELLACIOUS PANWARPING TRAUMA. KARKAT: AND THREE: WE'RE DOING THAT BECAUSE WE HAVE FRIENDS WHO WE CARE ABOUT THAT NEED US. THAT IS OUR FOCUS, HERE. NOT OUR FEAR. IT'S ABOUT THE PEOPLE WE HAVE TO SAVE. KARKAT: SO DON'T FUCKING WORRY ABOUT ME, DAVE. I'M FINE.

Okay, this is great and wholesome.  I am now retroactively GLAD that this topic got brought up.  :)

> ==>

Dave is still afraid. There is a part of him that will always be, he thinks. He has accepted this about himself. There is another feeling coursing through him too, though. It’s something he's felt before, though never quite so intensely. He looks up at Karkat and understands, viscerally, the simple power his words have. They pump through Dave’s own body, alive and warm and true.

He wonders if Karkat realizes it, or if he’s just, as always, saying what he feels as he feels it. Dave doesn’t attempt to dissect it further. There will be time for that later.

Every really loving moment like this is sort of undercut by the fact that it’s also, in some senses, part of alt!Calliope’s narration and, by extension, her fanfiction.

EDIT 2: There's also either a hint to potential Blood powers or even an explicit Blood power use here that I didn't recognize. I'm leaning towards it's-laying-the-groundwork-for-future-use-of-Blood-powers-but-isnt-magical-in-this-case.

> ==>

Smooooch!

That was nice.  Still gonna wait on doing any commentary til next time or a Bonus update or two, cause I’m beat.  See y’all next time!

[herohotline]

Spit Out the Sun (Toshi x You) Part 2

A/N: part 2!!! I might make another part where its the opposite ending, but that probably wont be for awhile.

“What did he say?” 

“He told me he had to think about it.” You look over to Midoriya with a sad smile. “He said we’ll meet up and he’ll tell me tomorrow. And y’know,” you sluggishly shrug, “I get it. You don’t want to just say something in the heat of the moment, only to find out later that it wasn’t true. He’s being careful. It’s just not exactly the answer you want when you confess your literal dying love for someone.” 

Midoriya wordlessly nods, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder that makes you smile just a little more. The two of you are seated at a park near Toshi’s house- color you surprised when the green haired boy had knocked on the door and interrupted your confession. The two of you left together and found literally anywhere that you could sit down after that, since you couldn’t bear being around Toshi after he told you that he couldn’t give you an answer. 

Of course, you felt bad for leaning on Midoriya like this. He shouldn’t have to worry about these petty things with you, but at this point, he was the only one who knew. He was the only one you had. 

“I know it’s not my place,” Midoriya anxiously starts, taking his hand away and putting it back on his lap. “But I really think he does love you.”

You take a slow, deep breath through your nose as you close your eyes. “Thank you, Midoriya,” you release the air just as slow, opening your eyes again to look at the sky. The sun had begun to set, making everything a pleasant and warm orange hue. Breaking out of your daze, you stand up and gesture for the young boy to do the same. “I didn’t realize it was getting late… I’ll walk you home and drop you off.” 

“Are you going to be okay?” Midoriya’s emerald green eyes shine in concern for you and it breaks your heart. 

This kid was way too much like Toshinori.

“I will be fine, Midoriya.” The two of you begin to walk to his home, a respectable distance between you. You try and ignore his gaze when your body shakes, wanting desperately to cough out petals. You suppress the urge with a strong smile- you won’t let him see you break down. 

“I’ll make sure of it.” 

——

You don’t sleep at all that night, but you reason that it’s completely understandable given your situation. You can’t stop worrying about Toshi’s answer. Of course, of course you want him to love you back, but you know that the possibility that he doesn’t still exists. You know that the odds don’t look like they’re in your favor and you might have to get the surgery.

And what would happen to you? The results from removing Hanahaki had wildly different results based on the person. Some grew indifferent, some could love exactly as they could before, and some couldn’t love at all. 

What if that was you? What if everyone important to you just… faded away? 

Your heart aches at the thought of how Toshi would react. The worst part, besides the dying and awful side effects for you, was knowing that Toshi would never forgive himself. You cannot help your feelings- you know that more than most, and you know that he can’t help his feelings either. He would pretend he could, though- just so he could continue to feel awful about it. 

Oh, Toshi… You’re more of a mess than I am. 

You’d love to continue wallowing in bed until the next morning- but a few light knocks on your door breaks you out of your thoughts. You sit upright immediately, looking at your clock with a confused look on your face. It’s almost midnight- who could that be?

“Hold on,” you yell from your room, quickly putting on some warmer clothes and slippers before walking over to the door. You hesitate to open it. What if it was some creep?

Even though you’ve never used it before this point, you look through your peephole. The porchlight glows, being your only source of light in the late hour to see who it is before you rip your door open. “Toshi?!” 

“Um, hello,” his eyes grow wide from you opening the door so suddenly. “Did I wake you?”

“Do you really think I was sleeping?” You give him an exhausted look, sighing deeply and running a hand through your hair. “What are you doing here?” And then as a second thought, you open the door wider. “Come in, the cold air is getting in.”

Toshi quickly shuffles in, the both of you shivering slightly as you close the door and lock it. 

“Well, I wanted to... talk to you. I think I know how I feel- but I didn’t think I would really be sure until I saw you again.” 

Toshi’s eyes are on the floor as he speaks, his hands coming out of his trench coat pockets so he could anxiously play with them. You sigh and reach out, grabbing one of his hands gently and lead him to the couch. You sit side by side as you continue to hold his large hand in yours, looking into his eyes as earnestly as you could. 

“Toshi,” you whisper gently. “I want you to know that I’m sorry for exploding on you earlier. I know you understand why, but I’m still sorry. And I want you to know that it’s okay if you don’t feel the same.” You hold his hand a bit tighter. Your voice is wobbly just from thinking about it, but you push onward. 

“Either way, I’m going to be fine. I’m going to be fine.” You repeat it once for good measure- you don’t know if you’re trying to convince Toshi or yourself at this point. 

There’s a small silence once you’ve finished speaking. When you look up at Toshi, you see him looking back at you with an expression you can’t really name, but it still makes your heart rate speed up. 

He speaks your name, soft and gentle. He smiles, a nervous kind of smile as he wets his lips and creases his eyebrows. And then, finally- “I love you.”

You can’t really describe how it feels. It’s like the moment before fireworks start- everything is quiet and cold, but then the explosions start and everything is loud and colorful. That’s what it feels like in your heart- and also in your lungs. 

“Oh, God,” you choke, and then you’re quickly letting go of Toshi’s hands as you dash to your kitchen sink. A sudden burst of flowers flows out of your throat, sunflower petals covered in your saliva spilling in the sink as you hurl. You had read about a lot of things, but you never read about this. It’s like all the flowers that had been budding and sitting in your lungs were coming out of you all at once now that they had no reason to stay. 

Toshi had quickly followed you into the kitchen, worriedly looking over your shoulder as he rubbed your back as comfortingly as he could. You had to admit that it did help a bit- his hand was naturally warm and felt nice.

You just felt bad for ruining his confession by throwing up everywhere. 

But eventually, it ends, and you can finally breathe again. Suddenly the air felt fresh again. It hadn’t been this easy to simply be since you had thrown up your first flower. Your body relaxes over the sink, and you find yourself giggling quietly as Toshi still stays by your side. 

“Sorry about that,” you croak, your throat sore from doing all of that at once. “I didn’t know that was going to happen.”

“It’s good, though,” Toshi looks at all the sunflower petals and buds in the sink. There’s no blood. “Are they all out?”

“I think so.” 

“...Did it hurt?”

“Oh, yeah,” you chuckle. “Could you get me a glass?”

“Right!” Toshi flusters and leaves your side quickly, opening a cabinet and handing you the first cup he can reach. You thank him quietly and fill it with water. When you drink, it feels so refreshing that you fill the cup up again once you’re finished and drink all of that too. 

You happily sigh once you’re done, standing up straight and looking at Toshi as you smile. “Come here,” you beckon him with your hand and he smiles back as he takes two large steps and then engulfs you with his long arms. And oh, does it feel nice.

“I love you,” you whisper into his ear. 

“I love you too,” he whispers back, holding you even closer as you positively melt against him. Yes, your eyes are wet, but you swear you’ve never been this happy.

And this tired.

“Can you carry me back to bed?” You laugh, and Toshi can feel the vibrations run through him as you do. “I’m... really tired.”

“Of course,” he smiles. It’s a little difficult carrying you since you didn’t want to stop holding him, so he scoops you up from under your legs. 

“Am I heavy?”

“I may be retired, but I’m still All Might,” he laughs through his nose and you suppose that’s true. “You weigh as much as a feather to me.”

“Someone’s bragging.”

“Hmm, maybe.”

At the end of your banter, Toshi has already made it into your bedroom. He sets you on the bed gently, tucking you under the covers with careful hands before you stop him halfway through. “You’re being silly, Toshi,” you glare playfully at him and he flushes. 

“I didn’t want to assume-”

“Do it. Assume. More than half the time, you’re going to be right. I love you, you know,” you smile and scoot over, allowing him room to lay beside you. The hero just laughs under his breath as he worms his way under the covers. “Good job,” you smile as he wraps his arms around your waist without asking. “That was a good assumption.”

“Thank you,” Toshi hums. His hands run up and down your back soothingly as you wiggle into a comfortable position beside him. Once you’re finally relaxed, your body sinking into the mattress, you feel one of his hands slide up your body and gently grab your face.

Lord help you because oh my God, Toshinori is kissing you. 

It’s innocent and sweet, a goodnight kiss at its finest. But it’s your first kiss with him and it still makes you blush as you look up at him with shocked eyes. “Was that alright?” He shrinks a little in your gaze.

“Yeah, it was great,” you smile and reach up, cupping his jaw in your hands as you lean forward to kiss him again. “Goodnight, Toshi,” you whisper against his lips, feeling his body lightly shiver. 

“Goodnight, darling.”

[mirror-juliet]

~Searching For Soulmates~ Park Seonghwa X Male Reader

Requested by Jax on tumblr.

Since there isn't a lot of male readers that read my things (To my knowlege) I decided to make this one special by using Jax's name, the one who requested this. I hope you enjoy it bub.

Tagging: @themainineveruse @atinybrew @vocalyunho @hongjoongs-hoe​

Love story's are so over-written these days. So hard to write about. They say write the unexpected, but everyone's already done the unexpected. If you write it wrong, nothing will become of it. If you excel in writing the impossible-you are praised beyond belief. Unexpected love story's are impossible. Most story's are Frankensteins of other stories, stitched together by a dream and desperation. But the well known authors dreamt those dreams before you could write them. You'd just be copying them if you made a story close to the lines of theirs, if the two characters hate eachother, or if they don't know eachother. Who's to say you didn't dream those dreams first, And why wont the world let you dream those dreams more than once. Aren't dreams supposed to be eternal. An extension of our thoughts, how can someones thoughts be wrong. There is no right way to think, it isn't a math formula with a set outcome. So why have people decided that we must think in a set algorithm?

The world's too busy thinking about their own love theory to worry about a simple love story written for a college literature class. Only the teacher would read it, so why's Jaxson stressing about it so much? There are set outcomes to what grade he'll get so it doesn't really matter how he writes the report.

"Here's your Pomegranate potion, Weirdo. You come to a coffee shop and order tea." Maggie, Jaxon's favorite barista and best friend since they were younger ruffles his hair. "You're the one who dragged me here today. I could have finished my report at home."

"There was no way i was going to let you stay cooped up in that apartment one more day. It's a lovely atmosphere here," She's not wrong about the atmosphere, it has the right amount of teenager swag mixed with an almost professional look. "Plus if you get bored you can entertain yourself by watching me train the new guy." Jaxson pays close attention to Maggie now

"That's today?.. And you are going to be the one to train him? Lord help this shop now." Maggie attempts to wack Jaxson upside the head, but he's too fast for her tiny fist of rage "That isn't funny Jax. I'm a good trainer, After all i was trained by the glorious booknerd that is you." She bows and holds her hand out gesturing to him. The boy wonders why he's friends with such a weirdo in the first place, but he supposes it's because he acts just like her. "What was he like, the new guy. Do you know?"

"You could always ask me what i'm like, pretty boy." Jaxson freezes in place, fear painting him as he watches Maggie wear the most shit-eating grin of the century. "Seonghwa, it's nice to see you again. This is Jax, he's off today but he's one of the workers here. Jax meet Seonghwa." Jaxson turns to greet Seonghwa, But holy God's why did he have to call him pretty boy? He's the pretty boy for gods sake! "You were talking up a storm just a moment ago, what happened; Cat got your tongue?" Curse him for having such a beautiful face because Jaxson does nothing but stare and hold his mouth agape! Seonghwa chuckles and goes behind the counter next to Maggie. "When do i start coach?"

Jesus his smile is pretty and he knows it. Jaxson watches him roll up his sleeves into uniform cuffs, his forearms are way too toned for his good, his tan skin extenuates them so much. Despite how good looking he is, he is quite clumsy with the espresso machine. It's expected since he explained to Maggie "I don't like bitter things so I've never used one of these." He has coffee grinds all over his apron and at the bottom of his white shirt. Jaxson had given up working on his report to examine Seonghwha and his arms. Both of them were covered in tattoo's, he cant help but wonder if one of them are perhaps his soul-mark he tries to hide in the cluster of ink. Maggie never tried to hide her mark, though it did look quite odd to only have the veins of butterfly wings on her cheek. Her soulmate, Yeosang did try to cover his up. It looked like 'an unattractive pink blob' in his opinion. Though, Maggie thought it looked cute in pictures, when they kissed for the first time, their marks melded into one. Now Maggie spends most of her weekends looking for Jaxson's soulmate even though he's made it very obvious he doesn't want to find them. After searching forever, he got tired and was convinced that his soulmate had either not existed or died before he had ever met them.

"Seonghwa you'll be okay, i'm just leaving you to make some of these for lunch hour. You're doing much better than an hour ago." Maggie sings sweet words to Seonghwa who seems to be shaking like a leaf in the wind. "I don't think i should make anything for anyone to consume."

"Okay, make Jaxson something and then prove me wrong. If he decides it's too horrible then he'll take your place for the day and we'll train you more."

"Why do you have to drag me into this?" Jaxson groans, he was enjoying his day off-well, not really; But Maggie doesn't know that! Then again, she probably does given the knowing look on her face. After a few minutes of a silent stare match between the two he gives in. "Make me an iced americano." The tan color leaves Seonghwa's face as Maggie leans against the counter, leaving him all alone with the coffee maker and his wits (Which arent a lot when it comes to the machine). His toned arms are clumsy with everything, making a much bigger mess than needed, Jaxson could have sworn everytime something got dirty Seonghwa cringed. After five minutes of entertainment Seonghwa Shakily sets the drink in front of Jaxson. "Whats wrong newbie, see a ghost?" Seonghwa glares at that, upset his own joke was used against him. In retaliation he mutters something under his breath that Maggie nor Jax can quite make out.

He takes the drink and puts it to his lips, only having it on his tastebuds for mm, less than two seconds before spitting it back in the cup. He wipes his mouth and grabs his things. "I'll be back out in a minute. Don't let him near customers." Seonghwa watches Jaxson walk into the employees lounge and come back out in uniform, buttoning his sleeves up and shoving his way behind the bar. "I want you to clear off tables, you'll have to move fast because this place gets packed in about fifteen minutes." But Seonghwa isn't moving, Only staring down at the shorter male. "What?" Jax's getting impatient as he's wasting time standing around when he could be preparing for the forty people he's going to have to deal with for the next two hours.

"Can i take you on a date?" Maggie drops the cup she's holding, hot espresso now on her new martins, the only thing saving her from burns. "What?" Is all Jaxson says because Seonghwa's hot! This is a manga scenario that only happens every blood moon, no love story has ever prepared him for this moment because any situation in a manga would never be accepted by society. And what't the point? Whats the point of dating someone that isn't your soulmate? "Go clean tables please."

The three of them don't talk about the situation the rest of the day, only trading words to explain an order or if they need to wash more mugs. But they do watch eachother. Seonghwa watches Jaxson make coffee and tea at an alarming rate, Jaxson watches Seonghwa clean tables with so much care; never leaving a cup ring. And Maggie watches the tension in the room between the two grow it's like candy burning to the side of a pot. Sickening but sweet. At the end of lunch rush, it's nearly time for the quaint little coffee shop to close it's eyes for a good night's rest. You think for how many people visit it, it would stay open longer than Three pm.

Yeosang came to pick up Maggie for their date night leaving Jaxson to close at the shop. That isn't the plan tonight because for the love of Hade's Jaxson cant figure out why the manager decided to hire Seonghwa other than his looks. Every drink he's had Seonghwa make in the past thirty minutes he has managed to burn or fuck up magically somehow. "Why is making coffee so hard?" The tall man groans out, backing against the counter away from the machine. "It really isn't. You've just added way too many steps to it. Here hang on." Jaxson grabs a fresh cup and starts up the machine once again. The poor thing might be overused by tomorrow.

It's crazy how simple Jaxson makes it look to Seonghwa, not only that but how elegant he is while doing it. His fingers flip switches effortlessly, pouring the milk into a beautiful leaf shape he's convinced the shorter man shouldn't be able to make. But he almost does it with his eyes closed. Seonghwa should be able to make designs like that- "What?" He says, realizing Jaxson must have asked him a question given the quizzical look on his face.

Jaxson's laugh is pretty, Seonghwa decides. It's just the right amount of baritone with the ever so slightest bit of soprano. "I'm telling you to take the coffee so you can see what it's supposed to taste like."

"Aren't we supposed to be teaching me how to make this instead of drink it?" Jax jumps to sit on the counter, taking his own teacup in his hands. "I needed a break and the machine is making sad noises, so here we are. Go on, taste perfection." Jaxson's cocky words brink an obnoxious smirk to the older's lips. Because there's no way his coffee is that good.

But it is

Seonghwa isn't one for bitter taste, hell he doesn't like coffee. But the cup Jaxson handed to him it seems he's refusing to put down. "Woah, woah. You're gonna give yourself a stomach ache." Said boy causing concern hops down to drag the cup away from him. "I'm sorry, i didn't think you had to drink it slow." A pinkish hue covers Seonghwa's neck. "I don't like coffee usually...." He trails off.

"Seonghwa." Jaxson's voice is gentle, Seonghwa wonders if he's gotten sad somehow. "Why are you working here? You don't like Coffee and you absolutely suck dick at making it. So why?" Jax hops on the counter once again and Seonghwa has to avert his eyes from the smaller male, intrusive thoughts invading his head. He shakes his head hoping to get rid of the thought like an etch and sketch. Anywhere but his eyes is better, does he not think before talking? Seonghwa thinks. "I, like most people in the world need money. This quaint little coffee shop so happened to be the only one hiring. So i had to get it before i ran out of money for rent. Why are you working here?" A question for a question, fair enough right? "I like the aesthetic of this place, it's calming to me. And it pays fairly well." The two sit in silence, sipping their respective drinks, only sharing glances at one another.

"Say whats on your mind pretty boy, You've been looking at me with a question in your eyes." Seonghwa smirks, only making Jaxson blush harder from the nickname. God he wished Seonghwa would use a different name. "Sorry. I was just wondering where you used to work before here. "

"I worked in a tattoo shop." He crosses his arms, the drink from before long since drained. "It was a pretty good gig too, i was the only apprentice that was allowed to work on people, plus i got half off tattoo's...if i let them do it drunk." Seonghwa looks up into the air, a meloncholy smile on his face. "It was the best job of my life."

"Can i ask you another question, if you don't mind." He lets out an approving sound, not bothering to look down. "If you were so happy....Why leave?" Jax realizes he's touched a soft spot when Seonghwa looks back at him, his eyes are hurting, hidden behind a small smile. "Aren't you just a nosy little one." He takes a deep breath "The old man that owned the shop passed, it was taken over by his daughter. She decided to turn it into a hair salon, kicking everyone that worked there out of a job. It was quite selfish of her, don't you think?"

Jaxson nods his head, wondering what it must have felt like to suddenly loose a friend and a means of living. Suddenly the cup of cold tea is more intriguing than the saddened face of Seonghwa. "My turn~" Said man sings out, tipping Jaxson's head up with his finger. "When can i take you out on a date?"

"O-oh, you were serious about that......."

"Why wouldn't i be?" Jax pulls away from him, hopping down to begin cleaning dishes. "Because i don't like dates." Seonghwa takes the cup out of his hand. "So, don't think of it as a date. Think it as if were just a couple of friends hanging out for an afternoon." A sarcastic chuckle leaves Jax's lips. "But it's still a date."

"Will you at least give it a shot? If you don't enjoy yourself in the first fifteen minutes i'll even take you home." Both of them stop movement, Jaxson wondering why Seonghwa is so hellbent on getting him to go on a date. "Fine. Only fifteen minutes, where will you be taking me?" Jax snatches the mug back from Seonghwa. "That." He pokes Jaxson's nose "Is for me to know and you to find out, tomorrow at two?"

"If you mean a.m. then hell no."

***********

Seonghwa had in fact not meant two am, but precisely when the autumn's sun hits Jaxson's glasses just right to blind him. Where even was Seonghwa? He had told Jaxson to meet him in front of the Cafe five minutes early just in case he got there before.

He hadn't.

He hadn't shown up the first five minutes after the intended meet time. Where the hell was he? Turning the corner onto the Cafe street, the loud motorcycle that was annoying Jax approached in front of the Cafe. Only once the rider pulled off his helmet did he realize Seonghwa was the knight under the mask. A knight wearing a leather jacket to reveal a blue floral shirt tucked into black skinny jeans with no chains this time. Instead he's swapped them out for makeup smudged onto his face, making him seem even more attractive than he already is. "You expect me to get on that? Wearing this." He motions to his outfit, denim jeans, a striped sweater and sneakers. Obviously not appropriate apparel for a Motorcycle. "You'll be fine pretty boy. Hop on." Seonghwa pats the seat behind him, pulling out a second helmet. "The five minutes i spent waiting count against your time."

"The ride doesn't though, Deal?"

Jaxson wishes the ride would have counted against Seonghwa, they've been driving for the past thirty minutes on the highway. He swears Seonghwa's speeding on purpose for Jax to have to cling onto his torso so the small boy wouldn't fly off the bike. Once the bike ride was finally starting to be bearable, it stops. "We here?" A chuckle from Seonghwa. "Do you think i stopped here for gas?" It's an aquarium, It could be worse, it could be a movie theater. "C'mon, i wanna show you a lot here."

A lot he did show Jaxson, from river bass to sharks in a dive tank. He even payed for the extra experiences like holding hermit crabs or feeding the sea turtle from a pole. Jaxson has to admit, he is having fun; he didn't leave two hours ago when the fifteen minutes were up. "Oh, c'mon we're at the touch tank!" Seonghwa Pulls Jaxson through sliding doors to a room with quite a large touch tank in the middle. In it are stingrays of all sizes. He leaves momentarily to come back with two small cups of something foul smelling. "We can feed them by hand." Seonghwa hands the cup of sardines to Jaxson, not waiting for him to grab one before taking off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves. "Just put it between your knuckles, their teeth are on their bellies so don't be afraid."

Easy for him to say as he seems to have no fear towards the slimy sea pancakes, his arm is already submerged past his elbow, getting his rolled up sleeve wet. "This big one i named Calvin. Say hi Calvin." The large stingray swims on the bottom to take the fish from his human friend. He even lets Seonghwa give him rubs and pit pats. It's quite cute to see him acting so young and happy. "Well go on, the worst that can happen is one of them tickle you."

Jaxson mustered up the courage to roll up his sleeves, only dipping his hand about forearm deep. Shortly a small sea pancake fly's over and goes straight for the fish. Thanking the boy by flapping his wings against his arm. More cute giggles coming from Seonghwa. The more fish he goes through, Jaxon finds himself moving closer and closer to Seonghwa. Eventually the two are brushing hands, Seonghwa startles him by grabbing ahold of it. "If you wanted to hold hands you could have asked." He smiles, not one of shitery or mockery. But a genuine smile, directed at Jaxson.

A warm tingle pricks both of their arms, on the verge of being hot. "Look." Jaxson points to their interlocked arms. A white snake being engraved into the knot of his black snake. The opposite of Seonghwa. He freaks out and pulls his arm out of the water to inspect the new tattoo. "Wha-"

"Mommy Mommy look! They got their soul-mark!" A little girl bounces next to them, pulling on her mother's arm. "Is that what this is?"

"It looks like it." Seonghwa hands a paper towel to the smaller of them. "Wanna go get dinner?" It took some convincing but Jax finally agreed to go to dinner, there they talked about what it meant, and how Jaxson could have possibly missed the white snake in the cluster of Seonghwa's tattoo's. It is the only white tattoo he has after all.

A/N: This feels kinda bad compared to my other works but my friend who read it over says it quite nice. (They prefer to remain anon) Jax bub i hope you liked this. I had some troubles making it but i think it's okay. Remember to like and reblog if you're reading this on tumlr

[kidgrimm]

apprentice april asks #1 by @starblazerm31

1. The Basics.  What is your character’s name?  How old are they? How tall are they?  Skin color?  Eye color?  Hair color?  Gender identification?

alice - 31 - 5′2 - tan - blk - blk and white - fem

2.  Love Interest.  Who does your character love?  What attracted them to that particular LI?

julian

hes tall smart and caring but hes a huge doof and theatrical

3. Familiar.  Does your character have a familiar?  How did they meet?

dinah ,she doggo. I made a small comic.she just walks into the shop one day as a puppy and tells alice she lives there now.

4. Hobbies.  What kinds of things does your character like to do for fun?

crafting making silly things out of magic

5. Hidden talents.  Is there something neat that your character can do?  Tie a cherry stem into a knot with their tongue?  Say any word backwards perfectly?

she can parkour and is skilled at knife fighting because shes a paranoid scared cat.

6. Magical talents.  Is there a specific type of magic that your character excels at?  Any magic they aren’t so great at?  Or do they actually shy away from magic altogether?

her magic looks like sparkly glitter and can change color due to mood. If she gets a trigger about her past (she has ptsd) her glitter based magic dissipates into a suffocating fog.

she mostly makes odjects and silly things with her magic because shes a clown. but behind it all shes actually quiet serious about it as its another way to protect herself.

7. Interaction.  How does your character typically interact with people?

she very sweet unless you treat her like trash then she will spit your spite back at you. which can surprise people. Shes already been treated like trash in the past and she wont allow that anymore.

8. Romance.  What is something that your character and their LI love to do together?  How do they show affection?

lots of giggling and laughing about dumb crap

alice doesnt show it,but shes very touch starved. but doesnt do much pdoa. she smothers julian with kisses and presents and food and lovey words.the whole nine yards.

9. Travel.  Does your character like to travel outside of Vesuvia?  How often?  For how long?  What kinds of things do they do away from home?

not particularly but she wouldnt mind if julian or asra would want to take her out of town. she will be more on edge though and you can clearly see her paranoia creep out. shes usually good at hiding it.

10. WTF.  Has anything just…weird ever happened to your character?  Something that made them stop and go “What just happened?!”

falling in love with asra when she first  moved to vesuvia and making friends.very weird but good experiance

11. Crime.  Has your character ever been arrested?  If so, what did they do?  Have they ever helped stop a crime?

no, if she stabs someone they were doing something they shouldnt have.

12. Secrets.  What is a secret that your character has?  Are they in line for the throne in a far off land?  Was there this one time at band camp…?  Are they secretly involved in an assassin’s guild?

her real name is Amoramayu. But she changed it once she ran away from her abusive family and isolated existance.

13. Overcompensation.  Is there something that your character just HAS to do better than anyone else?  Or are they just that dang good without trying?  If they see someone else showing off, what is their kneejerk reaction?

nahhhh

alice isnt perfect and she knows it

shes not super smart but she is crafty.

14. Fight Club.  Is your character a good fighter?  What kind of skills do they have?

she can fight, but she isnt THE GREATEST. She would be if she could control her emotions. She gets into that ptsd zone when she is going to fight so she turns into a scared cat hissing and clawing and basically goes feral.

15. The Arts.  Is your character a creative type?  What kinds of things can they create?  Can they act?  Street perform?

shes great at making people laugh. hell,all she has to do is laugh and people lose it.

she crafts with muriel alot, carvings paitings toy like items ect.which she likes to trade for at the market.

she also keeps a book of magic spells. silly and serious kinds of magic

16. Goofy.  Is your character a clown?  Do they like to make people laugh?

yes.

17. Language.  Is your character multilingual?  How many languages do they speak?  Do they have an accent?  Is it sexy?  Is it silly?  Do they have a multilingual lisp?

spanish was her first language.her accent only comes out when she gets attitude.

18. Embarrassment.  What is something really embarrassing that your character has done/said?

oh, OHH so this is a bit NSFW but it cracks me up

alice knows what men look like since she comes from a small tropical island where essentially everyones nakie

but when asra and her first got intimate she didnt understand what an erection was and she though asras -uh, thing was sick. So he had to explain to her essentially what horney does to your body /wheeze/

its a cute story

19. Memory.  Has your character gotten any of their memory back?  If so, what?  Did it change them?

yes,her memories of her family are strong because they are connected to strong negative emotions.so theyd come back to her in what seemed like shards of glass stabbing at her brain.

she always felt paranoid she just never knew why. until she remembered

20. Family.  Talk about your character’s family.  Who were they?

she had a mother father and brothers who were all pieces of shit and constantly abused her. she eventually ran away and never looked back but she suffered from ptsd and a nightmare disorder because of it. shes always paranoid that they would find her which is why she learned how to fight and parkour. She cannot be in situations that confine her as she will have a panic attack.

[thomasstalsworth]

Failure

Funny the way life changes.

Tom held that piece of concept in his mind, rolling around and around for hours. He couldn’t shake it away. The expanse of time before and the rolling hill of it ahead seemed intent on pinching some kind of influence to his brain. There were days where he had trouble telling which way was which; what way went forward and which went back.

Blinking, he tried to recall the last time he cried. No -- sobbed. There was a distinction. He knew the prick of tears rather well. Hardly a man to avoid such things, he embraced the fullness of emotion. Keeping a ‘manly’ face was no concern, surely. He had spent evenings face down in pumpkin patches and felt no squalor or shame. Tears were easy.

But sobbing was different. When the whole of the body retched and twist and gave no quarter. When the mind was so entirely lost, so fully hurled to some void or pain or -- whatever. Or whatever it was. When there was nothing left you could possibly do but spill yourself.

He tried to recall the last time he sobbed.

Was it when he died? -- Which time? That thought alone curled up a knot of some unknown power within his gut. It paid its own pennymeal to the doubt that was so very constant his companion. Yet he always came back. Long he thought that a blessing, an insurance to do as he was want to do. Years a sailor, a laborer, a man who slept in pumpkin patches.

A joke.

Across the gentle Springtide waters which lay their hands upon the shore, he stared. There was not much else to do any longer. He had heaved and sobbed and screamed, tried to slake his pain with drink and found it all the worse than without. A shame and a hate that it felt good to push himself -- again, again once more and again -- toward drink to calm his unsteady heart.

Whatever much was left of it. Perhaps he came back wrong. Or the returning was some punishment? A playstroke of divine comedy. Babble. He knew that, it was just babble to think about. Maybe he was hoping that there was something exterior he could use to blame his unerring consistency to fail.

And fail.

And fail.

The water did feel good. It was calm and cold, no longer swollen with Winter’s ire and not yet running and hardy with Summer’s joy. Springtide. A pleasant in-between that he knew. He had met that yearly whisper of tide for over four decades. A long life, moreso for the times it should have stopped.

Standing was not as easy, but stand he did. Both feet in the sand, letting the water lick at his toes. It was alarming how fast the nostalgia came back to him for when he was a boy, on the shores of Westfall and stood with his feet just the same, in the sand while --

Foot.

He looked down.

The water moved in all the same course it always did. Unerring, consistent, not unlike himself. But buoyed with natural purpose and he could not imagine what would provoke any soul to say that the water, the ocean and tide failed -- that it even could. It had no goal or task. It was, it existed, and that was all that was required.

He remembered when he was that way. It was simple. And lonely.

But was loneliness worse than the shame? The embarrassment? The failure and the doubt that tore at his gut and left him retching as though he could discard through his throat the heart that kept betraying and breaking and just -- really, really giving him a shit hand of cards.

A shit hand.

That was not right either. Again, he wanted to blame the exterior. His lips whet from a passing of the tongue in a moment of reflection on that. Had it only been hours ago that he had hollered and punished and raged at his daughter for doing the same. Not taking responsibility for her choices. Maybe he had no leg to stand on there.

Just a peg of wood.

Tom ran his tongue along his teeth, jaw flexing. He moved his glass up to his lips and drained it to the drop, letting it rattle as he put it back on the table. One hand moved up to scrape over his face, stubble rustling audibly from the motion. A finger moved out politely, despite his expression, toward Sigurd. "Sig -- y'can stay or not. Elsewise I should like ta' catch a drink with ya' in the city ta'night. Been a minute or two since we had cause ta' catch up."

He shut his eyes, occluding the brief harmony of the ocean ahead.

Of course he justified the anger that followed. It was easy to. He still held the pit of a righteous father’s rage in the low of his belly. He had given her chance, after chance, after chance. All the time in the world, he conjured, to ask for help. To answer him. To make a choice for the many instead of playing martyr. An impossible task, it seemed, to make her see that.

Perhaps he would not see it either were he in her place. How could he? He did not yet know. The world was bigger, scarier, more full of such broad and such tiny variables. An awful game of mathematics especially when one had to call to account for life.

Standing in the tide always helped with the pain.

At the time he had justified that too. The lost limb. He had to, it was that or die. Another account to pay for life. Tides knew, Light knew, all out in the Great Dark knew well enough that he had accrued an unsightly debt to that accord. How many more times could he gamble on coming back? It had failed once already. An exchange only made in the end by such an unrepeatable set of circumstances.

Standing in the tide always helped with the pain.

It helped his mind to see the water, to feel it trickle and roll over his one bare foot. It helped make that constant, unyielding sensation of the ghost of his lost limb. Always it felt like water. Water running over it, pouring over it, wet and cold. Looking down he felt better -- it matched. One foot felt it, so must the other. It helped.

Tom extended one of his sausage-like paws toward the middle of the table, elbow cocked. He opened it, flexing his fingers as he began to count down off of them. "Y'wont let me help ya'. Y'wont let yer' crew help ya'. Th'fuckin' demon, folk-fog genuine Red fuckin' Lord is out fer' you. Y'disappear fer' damn well on a month, then come back after all hell breaks loose n' press yer' ass into a squat in Stormwind."

There was a color to Tom's face, bright and not unlike a tomato, all the moreso for his gingered stubble. “I got a first mate -- an excellent sailor n' damn good friend -- nearly tortured ta' death. I got an apparent snake-heel faux-man, an elf, almost torn inside out. I got a whole crew who are so fuckin' terrified I have ta' hear worry about it through the damn dockhands because they're shakin' like fiends after not one, but two near-entire fatalities a' vessel” He kept counting off on his fingers as he went on.

Abby slammed her hand on the table getting up at -that- mention. “I did m'fuckin' best t'keep that from happenin'! T'keep it from happenin' again!”

He shut his eyes and inhaled. Sea air was good for the lungs, good for the soul. It had to be true, all the wives and fishermen and old sailors always said it. Why not let it be true?

Maybe she did.

Maybe she did her best, alone and without demand. Maybe that was character to celebrate, despite the result. Maybe things would have been worse had she done as he would have done.

Tides knew things tended to end up worse when he did what he did. It was a pattern that could have made him laugh were it not such a bellow to the fire of his shame.

“Y'had a damn chance t'talk -- sit down.”

He did give her a chance. More than one. More than just tonight. What else was a father supposed to do? Stay away, do nothing, be the absent coward. Do something, act on your wisdom and experience whatever it is, be the overbearing demon, the controller and the suffocator. Do little, but stand at the ready, a lighthouse and a pillar -- that was what he had tried to do. Give her at least one port in the storm. One place to run to. One place that gave when she needed, and held ready when she did not.

Be her father. Be better than his was. Be there.

“Now yer' playin' murder mystery here in th'Lionseat while th'whole world is tryin' it's damn hardest t'recover from what may end up bein' the bloodiest war what ever rocked th'planet. I got a good ship sittin' on its keel, in th'moors, with a first mate who gets winded goin' up the stairs, and now a captain who torches wildlife ta' blow off steam. -- An' you wont talk ta' me. Y'wont talk t'yer crew. Wont let neither help you with whatever th'fuck it is you've got goin' on. Still got no fuckin' idea why y'were gone a month, nor what happened, nor what y'decided ta' take it upon yer'self t'surrender to the RED FUCKIN' LORD WHILE I HAD CANNONS READY!”

An awful sort of mathematics, life was -- that much he had grown to understand.

A lighthouse was no aid to the sailor who kept far from shore. No light could reach those who were stubborn in their course and refused to turn away from the storm.

Tom burned a hole with his gaze, leaning back from the table.

“Moray,” Abby spoke. “Claude. -- How many more did you want me to add to that list? If I hadn't gone... that list would have been a lot longer.”

“NO -- no you -think- it would have been. Y'wanna spit yer' way through this life like you know every fuckin' thing an' all possibilties? Y'can do that. That's yer' business. Yer' a grown woman. But you can do all that one yer' own, if that's th'choice you want ta' keep making.”

What else was there to do but extinguish the light?

Fresh pain came to him. He had not thought another tear was left in his haggard skin and weary bone. But a few more. A few more he seemed able to manage. Had he done right? Had he been a father as he ought to be, as he wanted to be?

Maybe he was just like his own, just turned a few degrees of the compass. A different sort of failure.

“Righ' b'fore I lost m'stone, I said I was sorry.”

Tom took a valiant moment's effort to fill his lungs with air, “Sorry?”

“I told you that they threatened th'crew.”

He interject, “Yer' fuckin' sorry?”

Tom stared at her, genuinely waiting for something better.

“The Red Lord was at Hag Bay, and on account of me. He hurt my crew, on account of -me-. I wasn't going to drag them further in the mess, Pa. They already survived him once .... Most.”

Abby closed her eyes.

“Most survived him, most.”

Tom mealed up his mouth, tongue running hard against the inners of her teeth.

Abby opened her eyes to look back to Thomas, “So yes, I went alone after Moray. Yes, I made the deal to go and oblige so that the rest of the crew got out safe as well. So that they didn't need to die.”

“Y'lookin' for my pity right now? Martyrdom does not win you this argument, child. Nor does it give you a fuckin' leg ta' stand on when I know you are fuckin' smarter than that. Alone? Y'went alone? Same crew yer' spittin' fightin' words for, willin' to: shuck life for, were stuck tryin' desperately to hold their fuckin' ship together. No Captain, no First. Y'went alone? Y'left them alone.”

“Fine. Then punish me.”

And so he did.

Until the very end with blood in his face and harsh words and scraping teeth and anger and disagreement -- until the very end he wanted her to say something to him. Perhaps vile and perhaps sad and perhaps weak but he wanted her to say that maybe she could have used him. Just maybe things would have been better if she let him help her, let him at least be a wickie to point her compass true.

But no -- no.

Somehow, and by some means despite every ounce of love he had and want he had to be a father and to be a good father and to raise a daughter who trusted her Pa, trusted her family, or at the damn least trusted her crew --

He failed.

It seemed that was what he did best.

A seagull squawked at him as it passed. So late in the evening, on into the pale-grey settling where it was not quite night but not quite morning, it squawked at him. Mocking? Maybe. But maybe not. Even he knew better than to wallow in that much self-pity.

He sighed, and moved his toes in the water. Just like when he was a boy. Westfall. The first coast he had ever seen other than Crestfall. A hand came up to rub his jaw.

The anger was wrong. He knew that. Any Captain worth running sail under knew that. Anger did not make a sturdy crew, a stalwart crew, a family. But she was his daughter and despite everything, circumstance and oddity and the unending bivouac of life, he wanted so badly to help her, to keep her safe. To have that refused over and over .. he knew no answer other than resignation and the familiar sting of failure or anger. Anger felt good at the time.

It did not now.

Tom stared at her a moment, his eyes wide and no lighter the anger in them. But he exhaled, relinquished his hands from the table and stood up with a grunt.

Abby looked at him.

Tom spoke, “A'right. You wanna be on yer' own, deal with everythin' yer' own damn self, not let family, not let -crew- help you. Y'wanna be an island? Fine. Be an island. Yer' grounded an' stripped. Moray'll helm th'Dolphin back to Stormholme fer' reassignment. In th'time you've been sittin' here at harbour we could have sent two round trips from Barrowfield ta' Stormholme an' had grain ta' feed the refugees around Warfang's holdouts. Y'can add those lives to yer' martyr-list.”

It had hurt worse than his leg. It had hurt in a way that he did not know he could hurt. Life has a powerful capacity, he had begun to understand, to inflict ever worse punishments to the soul. In all the manners of darkstroke humor and irony that he could conjure, and more. And even giving in to that hurt wounded him all the more, as it was selfish. Selfish to feel pity for himself, to feel as if he did not deserve it. Maybe he did. It was all just mud anymore.

“Admiral.”

Abby stared him down.

“I ain't yer' Admiral anymore, child,” he cut back.

“Father.”

“So now it's time ta' talk like family?”

“It's never been time to talk like family because you don't want to -talk-. You want to lecture. You want to get mad.”

Maybe she was right about that too.

Tom held up a finger, “No no. Put that martyr, that victim card away. Ain't no use here at a table with adults. You want t'argue I'm unfair? Argue.”

Abby clenched her jaw.

“Very well. I will have my effects removed from the Dolphin by morning. -- And return to the Red Lord within a few weeks end, I'm sure.”

And there it was. Even to the bitter end, he tried to give her the chance. Take the rope, take the rope, please Tides almighty I know I know just please take the rope --

Then she left.

Then he left.

Then he found himself standing in the tidewater just before the break of dawn, unable to sleep, spending the entire night retching and screaming and sobbing and wanting so desperately and pathetically to wither in on himself so he did not have to face the fact that he was, to the bone, a failure. A failed father, a failed Admiral, a failed man. And to somehow come to terms with that, and the responsibilities that he still had despite such.

He looked back to the little inlet, the beach head and small cove he had tread to from the harbour. North of the Stormwind lighthouse, a little fishing nook he knew well. High tide never quite reached it and he had slept there his share of times. But now it was his wife sleeping there with him. The only real lighthouse he knew: his anchor. He used to think he was hers as well.

Maybe not an anchor, maybe just dead weight.

Elaianna jogged forward to catch up once more and gently tried to pluck the bottle free from his grasp. "-Thomas Stalsworth,-" she breathed exasperatedly. Tom stopped in his step, not about to fight with his wife over a simple bottle of rotgut, “I'm not doin' it. I'm not doin' this right now, a'right?”

Elaianna hooked her finger in the collar of his tunic so he could not pull away.

Tom did not fight off her hand, but he did not move.

“You're frightening me, Thomas. Not in a spooky sort of terror, but it's a different sort of fear. Just look me in the eyes and tell me everything will be alright. Can you do that for me?”

Tom whet his lips slowly, fat tongue lolling out. He exhaled, draining all the air from his lungs until he was barren of it. A man on the bottom of the sea. He actually had cause to understand the sensation now. He would have preferred to be back there, in some ways. "Everything'll be fine. Jus' as it's always fine. I'm fine. Aye? There it is."

He tried not to think about what they had said next, what he had said. The weakness.

But she had comforted him, consoled him no matter how hard he tried to make her leave and let him sit in his sorrow in the tidewater alone. It was more than he deserved, he knew that.

The bare glimmer of a false dawn started. He could tell the difference. Enough years at sea, staring out at the horizon -- it became second nature. A false dawn, not quite the first light. In his diminished, damaged state he found it quite appropriate.

@abighail-atwater​

@elaianna​

[mainly-kpop]

A Pirate’s Life For Me

Chapter Six

Pirate!BTS Maid!Reader Warnings: back story, abandonment, child labour?, inappropriate work place for a child,  Summary:  You had always wondered about pirates, about a life outside of these walls. On your 23rd birthday, you would finally find out what both were really like. Word Count: 3.4k

Living in a brothel probably wasn’t the best situation for a 5-year-old. Perhaps that’s why your mother sent you away, or rather abandoned you.

From the age you were able to walk on your own two feet, you were an assistant. The face at the front desk, the toilet assistant. Whatever she could use you for, she did. Rarely, she would talk to you like her child, like someone she was supposed to care for. Rarely you would call her mother, even more rarely she would admit you were hers.

Once, you had plucked up the courage to ask of your father, who he was and why he was never around. That was one of the rare days she sat with you, forgetting about work for a while, telling you how you came to be.

Your father was a noble man, working in the palace. All the men from the palace frequented brothels. Married or not, high up in the ranks or a lowly cook. They all came, in more ways than one, and left. Your father was no different, renting a whore for a night and then running off when he was satisfied. Mother swore he was an arsehole, that he did what he did on purpose. The brothel had a pull out or swallow rule, your father, did not pull out. Evidently. He disappeared, never to be seen by her again, she said to never go looking for him, to never seek him out. Why would you go looking for a man that didn’t know you existed?

Unbeknownst to you, he knew of you very well, the other noblemen of the palace telling him of the little girl. The young girl at the brothel who was a spitting image of the woman he came to love. She had asked him to run with her, to start a family, have a normal life. He agreed, them sealing the deal that night. When you came to be, she shut him out, refusing to see him no matter how often he showed up. That wouldn’t stop him checking up on you, not stating your relationship to any of the other men. He just let them rant about how small and underfed you looked, how you looked scared and out of place. One day he would save you from that retched place, he just needed to figure out how and when.

‘You have no use for me any more child, you are a freeloader and I wish I never had you. God, you look just like your father.’ The woman stated, slamming the door closed in your face. You couldn’t call her mother, couldn’t relate to her ever. The other women at the brothel pitied you, standing behind the door with sad looks on their faces as you pounded on it. You cried for an hour, a five-year-old, on the street, casted out by the only people she had come to know. It was terrifying.

For two days you wandered the streets, using your innocence to get free food. Older men and women would look sadly at you, offering you scraps that kept you going. They would never take you in however, having another mouth to feed was not on their to do list. Finally, you decided on a plan, the only plan you had at this point. Honestly, you were ashamed it took you this long to think of it.

The palace.

Your mother said that was where your father lived and worked. You know she said not to look for him, but what could the harm be. You were young, they were sure to take pity on you, enough to let you have some kind of job. Right?

Walking to the palace wasn’t the worst thing, it did take a while though. You walked through towns and fairs, following the path towards the gates.

‘Hey, kid, you can’t be here…’ A tall man spoke, not even sparing you a glance. You choked back a sob, sniffling slightly.

‘Hey wait, isn’t that the kid from the brothel?’ The second man spoke, looking at your frail form. You certainly looked like her, but he couldn’t be sure.

‘Na man, she’s got darker hair, don’t she?’ He spoke, still hardly looking at you. The other man opened his arms for you, letting you run into him. He was warm, smelt like expensive perfume, something you would never afford. This was the first form of affection you had for almost a week. Actually, it’s probably the first time you’ve experienced a real hug. That thought made you tear up, too slow to choke back the sob that shook your whole body.

‘Dude, open the gates, get me the advisor. She’s freezing.’ The man nodded, running into the palace. The man who had his arms wrapped around you warned you he was going to lift you, walking you both into the massive building. You didn’t even know you were running a temperature until the doctor told you. Holding your hand, the advisor spoke to you, trying to figure out what was going on. The doctor requested he give you a day to rest, for your temperature to die down before you answered any questions. He agreed, stepping outside to see the king. He needed to let him know there was someone new in his home.

‘A little girl you say?’ The king spoke, perched in his extravagant bed. The advisor stood at the bottom, relaying everything to him while the queen tried to settle the princess in the other room. She had been having nightmares, worried she would never amount to anything, a bit much for a four-year-old.

‘Yes, your majesty, she looks to be around the princesses age, frail and skinny.’ He described, trying to remember enough about you, but he could swear you looked like someone, someone he knew. He just couldn’t place it.

‘Very well, when she is better, find out where she came from and what she wants, I need to know before I do anything. That will be all, you are excused.’ He bowed respectfully, leaving to his quarters.

‘May I see her?’ He spoke to the nurse, she nodded, stepping aside. He walked through towards your bed. Even at that young age, he had a look about him, a vibe that constantly made you feel like you were in trouble.

‘My name is Robert, I am the royal advisor. What is your name child?’ You cowered in your hospital bed, the clothes you had worn gone and changed for this gown. You sunk into your pillow, pulling the cover up to your chin, muttering your name.

‘Perfect, now, can you tell me how you ended up here? Where you’ve come here from?’ You took a deep breath, looking at his face. He had a couple wrinkles, but you didn’t recognise him. Most of the men here you had seen in the brothel before, but not him. He seemed nice enough, pouring you a glass of water offering it out to you. You took it gingerly, taking a small sip. He didn’t pressure you to speak, just waited patiently for you to open up to him.

‘I came from the brothel sir. My mother, she told me to leave, that she didn’t want me no more. She doesn’t mean that, right? Was it because I didn’t do what I was told? Maybe she was just angry…’ you wondered out loud, big eyes looking up to the man in front of you. His eyes looked bugged out his head before he collected himself. At that age, you didn’t really think about it, narrowing it down to him shocked about where you came from.

‘How about I go down and find your mother, I’ll have a talk with her, see what she wanted from this. You rest, get all better for me okay?’ This was the first time you had been truly treated like a child, like your age. You just smiled at him, sinking back into the bed.

The only thing he could think was he was screwed, royally fucking screwed. He had to talk to the king, and he had to do it now.

‘Repeat that for me. Slower.’ He sighed, rubbing his temples. The advisor took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. It was only him and the king, so why was he so terrified for this?

‘She came from the brothel. She is the little girl who works there, she is also my daughter.’ The king sat there for a minute, not actually sure what to do. What to say to help this man, eventually he settled on a question, rather than an answer, giving him the power.

‘What do you wish for me to do Robert?’ He spoke, running his hands down his gown, flattening the fabrics. He looked up, searching the king’s eyes for any malice or hesitance. Finding none, he rushed out his demand, or want.

‘I wish for her to stay. I haven’t been in her life for five years. I don’t want her to know who I am, but I will take full responsibility for her.’ The king considers it for a moment, sighing standing by the man. Placing a hand on his shoulder, he tries to comfort him. This was never his specialty, more the queens, regardless, Robert appreciated it very much.

‘She may stay, but she is your responsibility, I won’t take it lightly. She can go to classes with the princess, perhaps that will calm her from her nightmares. Having a friend.’ He thanked the king profusely, deciding what to do next. He took a trip down to the brothel.

‘She was no use to me, I can’t afford a child.’ He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, the woman he had once loved had become so cold. Her features had become cold, reserved. She hardly looked at him twice, too busy prepping herself for the next man.  

‘Who have you become? She’s your daughter…’ She tutted, throwing the lipstick down on the counter. He was taken aback slightly, stepping out of her reach.

‘If you want the child, have her. I told her to never go looking for you, only told her terrible things of you. She wont trust you Robert, I made sure of that. Leave.’ He did as he was told, getting an answer for you. Although, he was sure it wasn’t the answer you wished for. He was correct. He didn’t want to be the one to tell you, to relay the news back to a five-year-old girl that her mother never wanted her. He tried to ease the blow, but no matter what he said to you, you still cried onto his chest for the whole night.

‘What do I do?’ You whispered, big round eyes looking up at him, you looked so much like your mother it almost scared him. He hoped you wouldn’t turn out like her. He flattened the hair on your head, comforting you the best he knew how.

‘The king says you can stay here. We have a bedroom for you if you want to come look at it? You’ll be right next door to the princess isn’t that fun? You’ll join her for classes at the moment, when you get older, you’ll work at something. Don’t stress about that just yet, enjoy being young for once okay?’ You nodded, jumping out the bed letting him lead you to your new room.

It was big, a lot bigger than what your imagination could come up with! All you could do was thank the man, hoping to see him more often. As your luck would go, you saw him a lot more often than you wanted. He took you to and from your lessons, was always around while you played with the princess. Even she started to question why this man was always here. You just told her he was responsible for you, hoping she would leave it at that.

‘Is he your dad?’ She asked one day, causing you to cover your mouth giggling.

‘No way! I don’t have parents Amelia!’ You smiled, going straight back to playing house. The advisor rolled his eyes, kids these days…

When you turned 16, you had your first boyfriend. Sneaking out every other night and day wasn’t too hard, the palace now giving you some space to breathe. The princess and yourself always talked about the cute stable boy. She saw him during horse riding, you saw him when cleaning, working closely beside each other. One day, he had kissed your hand gently, smiling a wide smile at you. Ever the charmer, you thought, blushing drastically. That was the day he asked you to be his girlfriend, you couldn’t contain your excitement telling the princess instantly.

‘Meet me in the stables tonight?’ He whispered, holding you back until you agreed, you nodded, planting a small kiss on his cheek before running off to the kitchens.

‘Out with the stable boy again?’ A voice came from the hallway, you recognised it immediately, turning around with a cheeky smile on your face. The princess stood in the corner, horse riding gear on, ready to go out. You nodded as she giggled at you, you shushed her, trying to make sure you wouldn’t get caught. Not seeing Robert for this long was worrying.

‘You must tell me all about it. Come to my chambers tomorrow night, we need to catch up, deal?’ You nodded, giving her a quick hug before running to help with dinner.

‘Lucas? Lucas are you here?’ You whisper, trying to draw as little attention to yourself as you could. A hand grabbed you, pulling you into the stable, slamming a hand over your mouth.

‘Hey, shh, it’s just me.’ He spoke, your body physically relaxing. Turning around, you placed a gentle kiss onto his lips, sighing as he kissed you back. It was a young kiss, an innocent kiss. The kiss you think about for the rest of your life, because, essentially, he was your first love. He didn’t have skills you would later come across in life, but for now, this was perfect.

‘I have something for you, come with me.’ He whispered, pulling you up a ladder, a blanket lay on the floor, a small part of the roof broken off. From here you could see the stars, every one in this square of the sky, it made you smile. You had once told him of your dreams to see the stars, to go out to sea and watch them all shine to their full potential. He remembered, and although it may not be on a ship, this was good enough for now.

‘This isn’t all I have, I saved some of my earnings, I got this for you.’ He spoke, handing you a beautiful bracelet, way out of yours and his price range. He slipped it on your wrist, watching it shine in the low moonlight.

‘I love you.’ He whispered, not looking up from your joined hands. You lead him to the blanket on the floor, letting him lie down before you sat on top of him.

‘And I love you.’ You whispered, he sat up, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you into a kiss. One you had never experienced from him before, it was hungry, filled with something other than love. Something was digging into your thigh, moving you tried to get away from the uncomfortable area. As you moved your hips, Lucas moaned, biting your lip between his teeth. You realised at this point where things were going, honestly you weren’t scared, you trusted him, you wanted this with him. Slipping his shirt off, you marvelled at his toned body, trailing a finger down the middle, his body shivered at the new touch, both of you very new to these feelings. Your mouth found its way to his neck, sloppily kissing and sucking. He trailed his fingers over the lace at the back of your dress, fingers fumbling with the knot.

‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ He whispered, pulling your mouth off his neck. You just nodded, slamming your lips onto his with such force, you’re sure your lips would be swollen. So caught up in the moment, you both didn’t hear the stable door open, you didn’t hear someone climbing up the ladder, not until half a second too late.

‘Down, now.’ He spoke, pointing at you, you just scurried away, straight back to the palace, sparing no one a second look. Lucas adjusted himself, eyes pointing anywhere other than the man before him.

‘Leave.’ The man spoke, voice so low with anger, it was hard to hear him.

‘Leave and don’t come back to this palace.’ Lucas’s head shot up, frowning at the man in front of him. He stood up defensively, not ready to leave your side, not for anything in this god forsaken world. You would run away together, steal a boat, go to the other end of the world.

‘We are in love, you can’t expect me to just leave her…’ The advisor laughed, he laughed right in the boy’s face.

‘You’re 16, that’s not love son. If you aren’t gone by tomorrow morning, I’ll make it my personal mission to let the king know. I’ll let him know of your every intention, but I’ll say it was the princess instead.’ The next morning, Lucas was gone. You couldn’t find him anywhere, the only thing you had left was the bracelet and the blanket under the stable stars. You went there sometimes, years later when you and the princess stopped speaking. Going your separate ways was hard, but what would you expect from a maid and royalty? The bracelet stayed tightly on your wrist, promising yourself never to take it off, never be rid of it.

As you roamed the palace, you overheard a conversation, one you knew you shouldn’t have heard. Perhaps you shouldn’t have even been in this area of the palace. You stood behind the corner, too nosy to turn around now.

‘Did you hear of the advisor?’ One voice spoke, the other one not replying, you assumed he had shook his head, the other man continuing regardless.

‘She is his daughter, no wonder he’s so hands on with her.’ You frowned, confused, trying to hear the rest. Who was who’s daughter?

‘That makes a lot of sense to be honest, did you hear he threatened that stable boy? Uh, Luke was it?’

‘Lucas I believe.’ Your eyes bulged out your head, running down the corridor you had just came from. Knocking on the princesses bedroom door, you tried your luck.

‘Enter.’ She spoke, you pushed the door open, closing it behind you, she regarded you curiously, taking in your frazzled state.

‘What are you doing in here, do you know how dangerous this is for us?!’ She whisper yelled, her teeth gritted. You just nodded, sitting down on the couch in her room.

‘I need you to do me a favour, it’s all I will ever ask. I need to know something.’ The princess sat beside you, taking your hand gently in her own. She looked at your face, concern lacing her own.

‘What is it?’ She spoke, searching your eyes for some kind of answer.

‘The advisor, I need to know if he is my father.’ The princess nodded, taking on this task for you. Two weeks later an envelope had been slipped under your door. You held it in your hand, the princesses stamp on the seal.

‘Yes.’ Is all the letter read. Everything tied together perfectly now you knew. You were to confront him the day after the princesses birthday, the day after you were taken by pirates.

‘So I never got time to tell him I knew, I never got time to say thank you. Not that I blame anyone, it was my fault for putting it off…’ You spoke to the captain, who now was squatted in front of you. His finger lifted to your cheeks, wiping away tears that had fallen during your story. He felt bad they had taken that moment away from you, felt bad they had pulled you out of a family.

‘You can go back if you want, go back to your father.’ He whispered, hoping you wouldn’t take him up on that offer. You just shook your head and smiled, giving him some comfort.

‘Maybe one day I shall see him again, but I am in no rush.’ You spoke, mindlessly playing with the bracelet on your wrist, still never removed all these years later. You wondered who Lucas was these days, who he came to be. You hoped he was well.

[luxlightly]

It’s Soup! -- Symbruary Day 8 “Food” Fill

Just in case anyone thought I was capable of making anything normal. Here is likely the only prompt fill I will be doing for @symbruary​. Written in about 2 hours (would have been shorter but my dog kept screaming at me to take him on a walk) with little to no proof reading so forgive any mistakes, especially since I nearly never work in first person and have never written in present tense. 

Requires a basic understanding of the plot of Venom: The Hunger to properly understand.

---

I am hungry.

Not the kind of hungry where it hurts your stomach; the kind of hungry that hurts all over. The kind of hungry that looking at food makes you feel sick. That eating doesn’t help. That makes all food look and taste foul. Because it’s a specific hunger. A craving for something.

Yes, that’s it. A craving. One I can feel in my bones, my teeth.

Our teeth.

But for something I can’t define. I can’t find. I’ll have to keep looking.

I am angry.

But that’s nothing new. Every day I feel like I’m angrier, but everyday it feels more justified, so I don’t mind. Every day I see more filth, more corruption, more sin. Everyday it seems like there’s fewer innocents to protect. Like there’s less and less untouched by the grime and putrescence of this city, this whole society.

What is the world coming to? It disgusts me.

Everything disgusts me now. Food, people,places. The popcorn I’d purchased with something approaching optimism is already all but discarded. Like trying to force mud and gravel down my throat. Repulsive. Like everything else. Everything sets a bad taste in my mouth, like sewage.

Well, except for one thing, of course.

The Other winds itself through my fingers, forming a hand to interlace with mine.

My Other.

It’s the only thing that soothes the anger, the shaking, buzzing, craving, wanting, needing. It’s a cool balm. When I feel its presence in my mind, winding its way through the twists and turns of my body, making its serpentine journey through the labyrinth of my form, for a moment I can feel at peace. We can feel at peace.  

There is a movie playing, here in the dark theater. Noise and light that my brain finds too hard to bother parsing. I didn’t come here to watch it, anyway. What story could any human mind fabricate that could match the magnificence of the creature that weaves its way through my cells?

None. Of course not. But the theater is blessedly dark and any within would not be looking at us. So we are afforded this small luxury of clasped hands.

In these brief moments such as this, when our minds touch and my heart swells with adoration for my beloved being from beyond the stars, it feels for a moment like there is more to existence than the wretchedness the world seems so filled with. That there is something else to be felt but disdain, disgust.

Then the shouting begins.

“Aw, they shoulda got Stallone!”

Teenagers.

I always had a soft spot for kids, but nowadays it seems there’s little to be soft for. Even children are tainted by corruption and filth. There’s no respect, no courtesy. These punks are nearly too far gone, already adults, raised in putrid bile and fit to do no more than regurgitate it.

But maybe not too old and far gone, yet, to be taught a decent lesson.

–

I am hungry.

I am angry.

Strung up from the ceiling, upside-down, the little cretin’s whines and whimpers are giving us a headache.

“Punks like you make me mad,” I hiss, wrapped up in my Other, in my true form, our true form.

Being together, as Venom, feels right. It always does. Like taking off an uncomfortable costume and letting the world see you as you are. Like finally fitting right in your own skin. But the buzzing and churning in my mind only seems to get worse together.

The only thing that feels right, but also wrong. Helping and hurting. Bane and balm.

Our headache is getting worse.

“Mad enough to bite your heads off!” I threaten.

It’s an old bit, but it’s our standard. Something about a brain-eating alien always seemed fitting. It’s the kind of thing people expect from us. The kind of monster they want us to be.

“CrrrrUNCH! ” For a moment I can almost picture it. I can almost feel that satisfying crunch of bone between my fangs, cracking and crumbling the the shell of an egg, revealing the precious contents within.

“Slurp down your brains like big fistfuls of Jello…”

I can picture that, too. Soft, slippery texture, zapping with the last sparks of life. Tingling against our tongue like a popping candy. Sliding down our throat like a rich pudding. Being so hungry for so long, it almost seems…kind of nice.

I stretch my jaws around his head, just to spook him, of course. His increased whimpering tells me it’s working. My tongue curls around his chin, as if I’m really tasting, preparing.

“Yeaaaahhhh…” I breathe, more reverent than threatening,now. More focused on the image in my mind, on solidifying it, indulging it that fantasy, than really teaching these kids a lesson. And why not? Not like they’d learn anyway.  I can feel my Other almost basking in the imagined scenario as well. “Barely touched that crummy popcorn, I could really sink my teeth into–”

I stop, abruptly.

I realize my teeth are almost itching with the desire to truly sink into the punk’s flesh. My jaw tightened and primed to bite down with a crushing force. My tongue is drawing in and savoring the taste of fear, of adrenaline, in the teenager’s sweat.

I could really…

I pull back quickly, returning our jaws to a more normal size and shape. The kid was spooked enough. No need to keep the bit going.

“Uh. Nah,” I say, suddenly at a loss for a witty parting line.

We release the kids and depart quickly. Suddenly, and unplaceably, the situation feels wrong, almost dangerous. Not that we’re fleeing from it. Not that anything would have happened.

I just get a little carried away sometimes.

It’s the job stress.

—

I am hungry.

I am angry.

More angry than hungry now, I feel. Like the hunger has settled into my bones, like it’s a part of me. A dull ache for something I can’t place. We’re out looking for it now. Searching, stalking. Scenting the air, sifting through sensations, discarding everything that’s not right but nothing is right.

No one understands it. No one understands us. No one ever has and yet strangers think that they have the right to presume what we need. The interaction with the man at the kiosk is still boiling in my blood.

How can he, someone who could not possibly know us, could not possibly understand us, think he can claim to know what’s good for our health? What we should eat? What we should do? We don’t need his advice! Nor his pity.

I feel suddenly scrutinized. Like every face on the street is watching us, judging us, trying to find the filth and disease in us, too. Trying to see how their poison has sunk into us, too.

I’m looking for something now. I feel something like a panic, a desperation. There has to be something that’s right. There must be something that tastes right, feels right. I’m looking for it, now. I feel like I’m wandering a maze. A mouse trying to follow the scent of cheese through walls that are shifting around it. Searching endlessly for a prize that always eludes it.

I need to blow off some steam.

—

I have to hand it to this biker scum.

He packs a punch. More than I’d expected looking at him, anyway.  

He’s also brutal. Slamming his fists and feet against my skull, my ribs, my spine. He keeps screaming about killing me for trashing his bike and I’m fairly certain that if I were a ‘factory original’ human, he’d be well on his way to succeeding. Even with my Other reinforcing them, I think I can feel my bones cracking.

The pain is grounding, though. It feels sharp and real when everything else has been cloudy, drowned out by the frantic buzzing of my body and mind. The rush of adrenaline feels good and I find I need more of it.

As I’m thrown through a window, I can already feel my Other cording itself through my bones, sealing any crack, repairing any fracture. It seeps up through my skin and releases its cloth disguise to wrap around and through me. Our fangs push up through our gums and back into their rightful place. Our jaw stretches and lengthens to accommodate and I find myself wishing I could feel the strain of it more acutely.

I let our long tongue roll out of our mouth and splash into a mug of beer on the table closest to the window through which we were so recently defenestrated. I do so enjoy a dramatic entrance. Or, reenterence, as the case may be. The taste,however, is even more abhorrent than everything else I’d been fruitlessly trying to consume lately. Pure poison.

I retch, pulling our tongue back and away from the putrid substance.

“You call this beer?” I snarl. “Tastes more like runny buffalo spit. Not that scum like you deserve any better.”

Our form feels strange somehow. Fitting to the state of our mind more closely than to the curvature of my body. Bigger, but less defined. More animalistic. More tendrils than we’re used to, as well. Somehow it feels like it matches the disjointed and detached state of my thoughts. Poetic.

I hear the bikers say something about superheroes, causal slurs and offensive epithets peppered in as is the wont of such ruffians. But we don’t feel like a hero tonight. This doesn’t feel like defending the innocent. I wonder if there’s even any left out there to defend? We don’t even feel like a judge, doling out retribution to the guilty. We’re out picking fights. Finding people who ‘deserve it’, whatever ‘it’ may be. Less like a punisher, more like a predator.

With teeth to match.

We’re slashing through biker creeps like we were made for it. Because we were made for it. But I barely hear it. Barely notice my own comebacks. I’m spouting the truth, the truth about their bile and filth, and the energy behind it feels good, feels like something , but it’s hollow. It’s not enough. I can’t find it in me to care. I’m angry that I don’t care.

I’m angry.

And I’m hungry.

God help me, I’m so hungry.

‘Frankie’,as it seems the leader of this loathsome bunch is named, takes another swipe at me with a knife. As if it could do anything. Ranting about cutting me open, as if he isn’t hopelessly, pitifully outmatched.

I swat him away like the disgusting insect he is.

“Oh, bite me.”

I’m not sure if I mean to kill him, but the loud ‘crack’ of his head against the brick pillar suggests that such a feat has no doubt been accomplished.

Suddenly I have no space in my mind for considering it. No space for thought about the other bikers starting to peel themselves off the floor.

A scent wafts into our nose, permeates into our flesh, into the scent detecting cells that litter the Other’s body, when we wish them to.

And suddenly, we desperately wish them to.

I sniff again, then once more, as the Other floods our form with more and more structures dedicated to scent, lining our skin with them so that the intoxicating aroma caresses us like a warm breeze.

What is that?

“Something…smells… GOOD,” I murmur, like a man possessed.

I feel like a man possessed. Possessed by that smell, the need for more of it, the need to discern its source. Our mouth is watering (more so than normal, anyway) and suddenly the hollow ache of craving turns sharp and demanding in our gut. I feel myself willing more teeth into our mouth and I feel my Other enthusiastically fulfilling that wish.

My Other is practically writhing on my skin. Our form feels like it’s shivering down to the core.

What is it? What is it?

I stalk to the pillar, stained with thick, red liquid, and breathe in that scent as deep as my lungs will allow.

“Warm ’n mushy…” I find myself repeating the words from earlier. When I had so desperately been trying to define what our body was screaming for. To put words to its silent but insistent demands. “ Wet…and…tingly…”

I lean down right above the cracked and bloodied cranium of the late Frankie, sniffing again and confirming beyond a doubt the source of the mouthwatering scent. And confirming beyond a doubt that it’s what we’ve been craving. What we need. What we want.

“Mmmmmmmm…” the moan from our lips is nearly sinful. It’s so close. What we’ve needed so painfully. What we’ve been aching for.

I feel feverish and desperate. The Other is writhing around and inside me. Our combined want and need feels like it will shake our body apart.

The Other provides me a lie before I even realize I have been begging it for one. Something innocuous. Something, anything appropriate. Excusable. It pushes me forward, encouraging. It feels as frenzied as I do.

“It’s… soup!” I exclaim.

And with that it’s justified. It’s acceptable. It’s accepted.

It’s inevitable.

We open our jaws wide, tongue lolling out.

“Yeahhhhhhh…” we breathe.

Our jaws snap down, crunching through the skull soup. The moment it hits our tongue is like salvation. After months of wanting, craving, aching, the thing we’ve so desperately needed is here, dancing on our taste buds, sliding down our throat. Like water in a desert, like life returning to our body.

How could we stop?

Our teeth gnash and tear, dragging more and more of the precious substance into our mouth. It’s so much and yet not enough. How can it be both? How can it be everything and yet nearly nothing?

We can’t understand it. Can’t understand anything. Can feel nothing, think of nothing, but the need for more. More. Like a thousand pounds would not be enough.

Faintly, as if beyond the veil of a dream, we can hear it, a cry of pure horror and disgust.

“I don’t believe it!” a voice cries. “He’s eatin’ Frankie’s brains!”

The statement drags me out of my frenzied state as if dragging me out of thick molasses.

“…what?” I mumble, still feeling only half lucid.

No…no we never….we would never. It wasn’t…it was only…

I look down at my hands, stained with blood and chunks of grey matter.

“No…” I breathe, then scream. "NO!"

It couldn’t be right. It couldn’t be real. This wasn’t me. This wasn’t us. Wasn’t Venom!

Suddenly Venom becomes a divided entity, split jaggedly between the horror and disgust at the viscera coating our claws and the frantic desire to lick each one clean of it. The revulsion at what we’ve done and the desperation to continue.

I stumble backwards.

“Threatened plenty of times – never meant to – just to scare ‘em…a joke !” I stammer.

When had it stopped being an empty threat? When had it stopped being a bit? A Joke?

Dear God, had it ever really been?

My stomach churns. Suddenly I feel panicked. Exposed like a rat in a trap, overcome with the need to escape.

“Something’s wrong with – Oh God have to– Get away!”

I flee as fast as our legs will carry me, away from the cooling, clotting remains of what is decidedly not soup.

And the worst thing.

The worst thing.

Is that I’m still hungry . ---

Also crossposted to ao3 : [Here]

[talkingismylifewrites]

You’re a gift and too good for this world caro — even the little snippets leave me clutching my chest in awe. I’m obsessed with this so I’m sorry to bug you with another one .... how would they celebrate their anniversary post-accident with everything but the amnesia? (Sorry the hurt/comfort tenderness in the last chapter just about destroyed me and in a masochist & back for more)

awwwww, stop that’s so sweet!! i love dyldyl and i’m always willing to write little snippets!! if there’s anything else you’d like let me know!! i’m especially good at angst🙃

(now onto the snippet)

Roger was mumbling in his sleep again. 

John drifted between consciousness and sleep, listening to Roger’s faint grumbled and sighs, relishing in the sounds. Three weeks ago, he’d never thought he’d get to hear it again, thought that it would have been a pipe dream. Every second he got was a gift. 

Roger rolled over in bed with a grunt, kicking his leg out to collide with John’s, forcing him out of his doze and into consciousness. He couldn’t find it in himself to mind; maybe in a year the novelty of having Roger alive and almost whole would wear off and he’d be annoyed by his nightly restlessness, but not now. 

He smiled to himself as he rolled closer, unable to stop himself from watching him sleep. Asleep, Roger mumbled something about a boat, his nose scrunching as he snuggled deeper into the pillow. 

John leaned in and pressed a kiss to Roger’s forehead, carefully avoiding the faint scabs of road rash that still existed. Roger had spent hours the other day complaining about the scabs, demanding to know if John still fond him attractive despite his “deformity”. For the first hour of his dramatics John was adamant that not only was he not deformed but that he was still as attractive as before. By hour three, John was loudly demanding on the phone that Phoebe find Roger a mask “to cover up his ugliness”. 

“Mmm,” Roger hummed, smacking his lips in his sleep. “G’way.” 

Rolling his eyes, John carefully thumbed away a spot of drool from the corner of Roger’s mouth before lightly kissing him. He pulled away to slide out of bed, shivering as his bare feet hit the cold floor. With a stretch, he headed to the door, grabbing a dressing gown on his way out of the guest room. 

Anniversaries called for pancakes; he made sure to queue up the coffee pot before getting started on the batter. Phoebe had dropped off their weekly groceries the day before, bringing them lamb chops and fresh veg, tossing in a few lemons as well for pancakes. It was a tradition he was wont to miss. 

He’d just finished the first stack when the little bell rang, signalizing Roger had woken up from his sleep. Clapping his hands to shake off any excess flour, he hurried back down the hall, eager to get to Roger. 

On the bed, Roger had managed to shift himself into an almost upright position, mid yawn when John arrived. 

“Morning, baby,” John smiled, taking the moment to look him over, drinking in the sight of him. 

“Mmm, morning,” Roger yawned, reaching up to knuckle the sleep from his eye with his broken hand. Instead, he thumped himself in the head, wincing comically and cursing under his breath.

“Idiot,” laughed John fondly, coming over to grab his broken hand and pull it away from his head. “Don’t fracture your head again.” 

“I hate this stupid cast,” Roger grumbled through a pout. “Always getting in the way.” 

“Next time,” John teased lightly. “Think of how annoying the cast would be before you walk in front of a car.” 

“Don’t be mean,” whined Roger, that damn pout still on his face. “It’s our anniversary, you have to be nice to me.” 

In lieu of response, John leaned in to kiss him properly, wrinkling his nose at the taste of sour morning breath. 

“Happy Anniversary, your breath stinks,” John laughed, pulling away in time to catch Roger’s affronted look. 

“That’s what you decide to go with?” Roger all but shrieked, thwapping him with a pillow. “It’s our fucking anniversary!” 

Ducking another pass of the pillow with a laugh, John held out his hands for Roger to take, pulling him to his feet and holding him close. Still grumbling, Roger let himself be pulled into a hug, hanging onto him less for support and more for comfort. 

“You’re still a knobhead,” Roger huffed, pulling back to stick his tongue out at him. “But I guess you’re my knobhead.” 

“That’s right. And I’m a knobhead who made pancakes.” 

Roger grinned, teeth flashing in the early morning light. “See? This is why I’ve kept you around for four years!” 

*

In typical Roger fashion, he descended upon the pancakes like a ravenous wolf, digging into his stack with gusto. John was disgusted by the fact that he was not, in fact, disgusted at the spectacle. 

“Every year they get better,” Roger praised from behind a mouthful of half chewed pancakes. 

“You’re disgusting,” John said with very little meaning. Roger beamed, a dribble of sugar and lemon dripped down his chin. John leaned in, quick as a whip and licked it clean, sending Roger shrieking, shoving him back as John laughed. 

“You’re disgusting,” Roger laughed, swiping at his chin to clean up whatever spit John might have left behind. “Ugh, slobbering all over me like a dog.” 

John blew him a kiss; Roger followed up with a kick to his shin. 

Pulling out the newspaper, John distracted Roger with the crossword, reading out the questions for him. Despite his skull fracture, Roger’s ability to remember even the most obscure facts appeared to have remained. In seemingly no time, half the puzzle had been solved, the other half left to be completed after John finished cleaning the kitchen.

“You know,” said Roger sullenly from where he’d been sat at the table. “I had so many plans for today.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he continued. “I wanted us to go to Neuschwanstein--” 

“Gesundheit,” John teased.

“The castle,” Roger emphasized, ignoring John. “Y’know, the famous one? We were going to wake up early, go for a long drive, see the castle, get dinner...romantic shit, y’know?” 

John snorted, turning away from the sink to give him a disbelieving look. “Baby, if you honestly think we would have done that instead of spending the day in bed, you need to get your head checked again.” 

Roger flushed, but didn’t argue. “Okay, so I might have had other plans...and, I’m just saying, they’re plans we could still go for! I still have the panties from Christmas, and--” 

“Rog,” said John gently, subtly trying to shift his weight to hide just how much he wished that was something they could do. “You know what Dr. Mitchell said. No strenuous activities until you stop having flare ups. We can’t risk it, baby.” 

Roger scowled down at the table. “Fuckin’ flare ups.” 

Abandoning the dishes in the sink, John knelt before Roger’s seat, taking his hands in his. 

“Look at me, Rog. I don’t mind, honest. I’m just...” He trailed off, swallowing back tears thickly. “I’m just so fucking happy that you’re here. I’m so, so happy. I don’t care if we can’t have sex for another year--” 

Roger made a noise in protest, but John carried on; “All that matters to me is that you’re still here. With me. Alive.” 

Roger, too, looked a little choked up. Sealing his words with a kiss, John leaned in towards Roger, pressing their lips together sweetly. 

“Love you,” Roger mumbled against his lips, kissing him again. 

John took a deep breath, head spinning with the pure, unadulterated joy of knowing that Roger was still here, still loved him, still wanted him. Smiling into the kiss, he relaxed into the kiss, wishing it would never end. 

*

After the kitchen was cleaned they returned to the guest bedroom, falling into bed together for a cuddle. Roger rested his head on John’s lap, allowing himself to be pet like a cat as John continued where he’d left off in Dune, making sure to keep his voice soft. Eventually, Roger dozed off, snuffling into the blankets. 

Careful not to wake him, John again slipped out from under the blankets, tucking them in tight around him before returning to the kitchen to get started on cooking. 

He made quick work of the meat and veg, placing the lamb chops into the fridge to marinate and gathering the potatoes to peel. He was about to put them in the oven when the bell rang. Wiping his hands clean on a tea towel, he hurried back into the room, smiling. 

“I bet you could smell it from here, huh?” John teased as he opened the door, prepared to see a hungry and happy Roger waiting for him.

Instead, he found Roger in the middle of a flare up, his arm thrown over his eyes as he gasped wetly, hand grasping at the sheets. 

“Deaks,” he grunted, voice rough with pain and sleep. “Deaks, m’head...” 

“Shh,” John soothed as he rushed to his side, running his hand through his hair. “Shh, baby, it’s okay. Flare up?” 

“Yeah,” Roger gasped, venturing a peak from behind his arm, eyelashes wet with unshed tears. “S’a bitch, too.” 

John hummed, sympathetic. “I’ll get you your pill.” 

It was a familiar routine, but never an easy one. He grabbed the pill from the bathroom across the hall, wetting a flannel and filling a glass while he was there. Quietly, he crept back into the room just in time, managing to catch his sick in the waste basket. Once he’d cleaned him up, he helped Roger sit up enough to swallow the pill and some water, carefully draping the flannel over his eyes. 

“M’sorry,” Roger gasped once he’d fallen back to the pillow. “I’ve ruined dinner.” 

“It’s okay,” John assured him as he climbed onto the bed, sliding in to cuddle up close. “It’s just dinner.” 

Roger gasped wetly, his jaw clenching through the pain. “It’s our anniversary.” 

“S’not like you planned it,”John whispered, stroking his hair gently. “All that matters is you get better. Dinner can wait until tomorrow, alright?” 

His hand flopped atop the blankets, Roger blind from the flare up and the flannel. John moved to grab his hand, tangling their fingers together until their palms met. 

“Love you,” Roger murmured as he inched impossibly closer. 

John smiled into the crown of his head, kissing his hair. “Love you, too. Just get better, alright?” 

Roger hummed noncommittally, curling in closer to John, seeking comfort. 

“Happy anniversary,” he murmured into the meat of John’s chest before drifting off to sleep.

“Happy anniversary, baby.” John pressed a kiss onto the crown of Roger’s head, closing his eyes and committing to memory the feel of Roger in his arms before he, too, fell asleep. 

Just in case. 

[thefamily]

Chapter 4: 1824 October 10th “Everything Stays”

‘thoughts’

“Singing”

Jacks P.O.V

“Okay, um… lets start with what is Snow?” I shift awkwardly not really knowing which question I want to ask first so I just asked the first thing that came to my mind. I watch as she smiles before answering.

“He’s Stella’s son.” I look at her shocked but at the same time not really because Snow was almost as big as her even though his fur was white. “He’s also something known as a Hell Horse.” I feel myself freeze at that. “A-A what?” She sighs before responding. “A Hell Horse but they aren’t really from hell.” I feel myself relax at that. “I have a book on them, I’ll let you read it later.” Now I’m intrigued. “Really?” She nodded. “Of course but for now, I know you have more questions than just that.” I lean back thinking of another one to ask.

“What is this place?” I finally ask looking her in the eyes and I can see them become a bit cloudy. “My home.” I look at her in confusion before asking, “How does this place exist were exactly is this place?" She looked a rabbit caught eating the lettuce from one of the farms before it ran off but only for a split second before her face went neutral. She was quiet as she looked into my eyes as if she was looking for something before speaking,

“I made this place.” My brows furrow in confusion, my gut churning with anxiety. ‘What did I get myself into.’

“It’s my home, my… brothers I suppose saved me from our mother,” She spits the word mother from her mouth like poison, “who was the reason they died about a week after I created this place.” My shoulders drop a bit at this information and the look on her face looked like she just wanted to burn something before her own shoulders drooped as she leaned back into her seat and her eyes seemed to fill with tears. I watched in silence unsure of what to do before deciding to reach over and grab her hand gently as she blinked away the tears and took a few shaky breathes as I feel her hand squeeze mine gently.

“Sorry about that, I’ve never told anyone that.” I go to say something but before I can she quickly says, “Enough about that I’m sure you have plenty more questions and I highly doubt you want to know about that stuff anyway.” She manages to say all in one breathe and quickly takes in a deep breathe as she looks me waiting. I look over her face one last time, her eyes were a little red from the tears but other than that there didn’t seem to be anything wrong. I lean back and she smiles eating a few bites of cake as she watches me, waiting for me to ask a question.

“Where were you born? You know I was born at the village but I don’t know about where you were from.” She looked at me her eyebrows furrowed before looking down at her lap as if thinking before seeming to settle on an answer, “I was born in Greece, I believe on Andros but it could have been an illusion created by the void, I’m not sure.”

I blink at her in confusion before slowly nodding. She smiles brightly and finishes of her cake washing it down with the milk. As I finish my piece she turns so she facing the fire and I can hear rumbling from outside the castle. I jump at a particularly loud one and she smiles softly as if seeing me out of the corner of her. “Don’t worry Πυγολαμπίς,” I blush a little and I can see her smiles and that causes me to blush harder knowing she can see me blush. “it’s just a Thunderstorm it’ll pass in about twelve hours or so, just relax.” At the sound of her soft almost hypnotic voice I can’t help but relax and I find that even the fact that I wouldn’t be going back to the village tonight stressful, in fact… I even feel better at that. I put the plat and fork on the table and look at Liru and notice she looks like she contemplating asking something as she glares at one of the ‘Skulls?’ before relaxing and starting back into the fire.

I wait for the inevitable question as I look her noticing that some jewels that shine like the stars with Emeralds, Rose Quartz, what I believe is Blue Lapis, and Amethyst. I’m trying to remember they mean knowing that the Blue Lapis stands for open communication and I can’t help but get this itch in the back of my mind as I remember eyes of the same color. Kind open eyes that turned black when scared. I’m trying to remember who it was and can’t help but feel that they are a part of me but not me. I’m finally drawn out of my mind by Liru’s voice, just as soft as last time.

“Jack?” I look at her voice but she’s still watching the fire her eyes appearing to be sad. “Y-Yes?” I stutter out and silently swearing at myself for stuttering.

“How come you go back to that place?”

“W-What place?”

“The village.”

“Oh.” I feel my throat close up a bit as I force back tears thinking about my bothers, hoping one day they’ll come back for me.

“Jack? Whats wrong lightning bug.” She moves so that she’s sitting in front of me and she reaches out and grabs my hands in her own and I can feel the warm metal of her ring. I try to focus on what they looked like to try and balance my self and I can faintly hear Her humming. I remember the one on her right middle finger was a silver vine with a flower made of Rose Quartz with two Emerald leaves which I remember being ‘The Stone of Successful of love’ and the other meaning unconditional love of all kinds. On her other hand was a plain golden ring on her ring finger, and I can feel something deep within me long to replace it with my own. “Jack?” I don’t respond and I can feel my soul scream at me to stay with her. To not go back to that hell hole of an Orphanage, of a village. I jerk slightly as I feel her reach up and put her left hand up and cup my cheek the side with her mark on it and I can feel the warmth that spreads through me as she rests her palm against it and I can’t help but lean into her touch as I look her in the eyes.

“Whats wrong my lightning bug.” I look down at her wrist where I can see small bits of a what looks like a bleeding spike with what looked like two snake tales wrapped around with bleeding feathers around it and it reminded me of Henrik’s soul-mark on my wrist. I know whose mark is who because Henrik told me before he got adopted by a German family. I close my eyes fighting back tears and grab her wrist gently and moved my head, kissing the heel of her hand gently. I feel her other hand run through my hair as she moves closer pulling me forwards a bit moving her other hand to the back of my head letting me lean my head against her chest, her other one still running through my hair as I lean my forehead against her chest, wrapping my arms around her. I take a deep shaky breath finally opening my eyes stair at the red carpeted floor only lit by the fire.

“My brothers.” I feel her hand freeze for a second before continuing, “I… I’m waiting for my brothers.” I can hear my voice crack as I try to keep it together and I can feel the tears streaming down my cheeks. “Oh Jack…” Her voice is soft and full of empathy but a little strained. “They… They promised to stay in touch, Henrik promised to come back for me, it’s been eleven years and I haven’t heard a thing from them!” I was full on crying now trying to stop. “They promised.” I sobbed in a quiet voice. I feel a few wet droplets fall onto the top of my head before I hear her take a deep-breathe and I can’t help but feel guilty. I go to pull away and apologize but before I can I feel her pull me a bit closer and begins to sing.

Liru’s P.O.V

I can feel the sorrow radiating from him as he wraps his arms around me before he says in a cracking voice, “My brothers.” I freeze for a second before continuing to run my hand through is hair. “I… I’m waiting for my brothers.”

‘Oh’

“Oh Jack…” I can’t help but whisper out-loud. ‘Oh my poor Lightning Bug. I should have known, with the way you talk about them. I should have known you were waiting for them my love.’ I try to hold back tears as he speaks again.

“They… They promised to stay in touch, Henrik promised to come back for me, it’s been eleven years and I haven’t heard a thing from them!” His voice became more and more broken with every word. I can tell he’s crying now and I can feel the tears from my eyes begin to drop down. “They promised.” I heard him whisper through a sob. I feel more tears fall as I trying to think of way to help him relax before my mind is filled with a song on of my brother Roman sang to me before he died. I take a shaky deep-breathe before beginning to sing.

“Lets go in the garden

You’ll find something waiting

Right there were you left it

Lying upside down.”

As I sung I had begun to move and I could feel his grip tighten for a second before loosening allowing me to pull away.

“When you finally find it.”

I put a finger under his chin having him look up at me and I can see that his eyes are red a puffy from crying and it kills me, making me wish I could take away his pain.

“You’ll see how it’s faded.”

He tries to look away but I wont let him.

“The underside it lighter

When you turn it around.”

I grab his hands gently, pulling him up softly leading him to stand in-front of the fireplace with me, pulling him close to me wrapping my arms around his neck and I feel him wraps his around my waist.

“Everything stays

Right where you left it

Everything stays

But it still changes.”

He leans down slightly putting his head on my shoulder as we begin to sway side to side.

“Ever so slightly

Daily and nightly

In little ways

When everything stays.”

We continue to sway and I can feel Jack begin to droop a bit so I decide to keep singing to help him sleep.

“Go down the ocean

The crystal tide is rising.”

My mind flashes to his eyes, those beautiful crystal water eyes that light up like the sun above him when he laughs.

“Water’s gotten higher

As the shore washes out.”

I feel his arms tighten a bit and I run a hand over the back of his head.

“Keep your eyes wide open.”

I slowly move him and I can hear him let out a small whine causing me to smile softly as I have him look at me.

“Even when the sun is blazing.”

I gently kiss the corner of his right eye eliciting a sleepy giggle that makes my heart flutter.

“The moon controls the tide.”

I gently kiss the corner of his left eye eliciting another sleepy giggle.

“It could cause you to drown.”

I put a hand on his cheek looking up at him into his drooping eyes.

“Everything stays

Right where you left it.”

His head drops onto my gently bumping it against mine and I feel myself smile softly at the sight of his closed eyes. ‘Almost there’

“Everything stays

But it still changes.”

His breathing begins to level out and I can hear his heart beating normal now.

“Ever so slightly

Daily and nightly.”

I wraps my arms under his as he goes limp.

“In little ways

When everything stays.”

I smile softly hearing his soft breathing and I move him so I can get one of my arms behind his knee’s before picking him up bridal style. As I adjust him so he’s comfortable I hear a squeaking sound from behind me causing a small smile to form on my face. I turn around seeing Izzabella sitting on the seat that Jack was her green eyes piercing into mine.

“Hey baby girl,” I keep my voice low as to not wake up Jack. “do you think you could get…” My voice trails off as a completely black humanoid creature, like a living shadow, appears on the back of the love seat. “There you are Σπαθί. Could you open the doors from here to my room, please?” They seemed to nod before hopping off the back of the seat and scuttle on all fours off towards the direction of the doors. I then look at Izzy, “Come one baby girl.” I follow after the shadow creature with a brisk walk careful not to wake Jack.

I leave the library and after a while of walking through the large decorated hall ways to my room. As I walk into the room I see Σπαθί sitting on the bed and Izzy runs past my legs over the ruby red rug that took up most of the room, to join them on the bed and I’m close behind as I set Jack on the large bed a bit amused at out the pillows seem to swallow his frame as I covered him with the many blankets on my bed making sure he stays warm in the dimly lit room. As I stand at the edge above him I look out the windows to the rain beating on the windows from the clouded night sky.

I close my eyes and as I do a particularly loud boom of thunder rumbles over head as lighting flashes bright enough to shine through my eyelids. I know the violence of the storm is caused by my anger and I’m glad it doesn’t wake Jack up, I’d feel horrible if it did. I open my eyes again just as another flash of lighting illuminates the room revealing and seven foot tall black shadow humanoid figure wearing a trench coat and a top hat it’s arms going down to wear it’s knee’s would be.

“He’s staying here Τριφύλλι.” It’s anger makes my hair stand on end put it doesn’t scare me. “He’s not going back to those monsters. This is my home I made this place so you can either suck it up and help me get some information out of them or you can leave him alone and stay in the fucking shadows.” I feel it’s contemplation, it’s anger at me daring to talk back at it then finally it resignation. ‘Good they realize they don’t a say.’

“Now will you help or stay.” It bends it’s head down slightly and I smile with sharpened teeth. “Good, you and Σπαθί will wait outside I’ll be there soon.” Both shadow people disappear and I force my self to relax before looking down at Jack’s sleeping face and smile softly. I bend down a bit putting a hand his cheek rubbing it gently and he gains a small smile snuggling into the pillows more as he grabs them pulling them closer.

“I promise you my lighting bug, everything will be okay. Even if it kills me, I'll make sure your happy.” I whisper out my eyes watering a bit as I wonder how anyone can hurt someone as kind as him. I lean closer continuing to whisper, “Happy birthday Jack.” I lean over kissing the edge of his forehead and hair before getting up, not noticing as a streak of his brown and silver hair turns a grassy green. I walk over to Izzy who is laying at the edge of the bed watching me and I gently rub her head causing her to purr. “I’ll be back baby girl, watch over him as I’m gone okay?” She gives a squeaky meow as a ‘yes’ and I smile kissing her on the forehead before summoning my scythe to my hand before leaving the room.

I quickly make my way to the entrance hall grabbing my cloak that was hanging on a railing and throwing it on before putting my scythe on my back, putting my hood up and walking out into the storm where I see Stella in all her red eyed, black winged glory with both Σπαθί and Τριφύλλι on both sides of her. I walk over quickly the storm not affecting me as Stella leans down on her front knee’s allowing me to climb onto her back before standing again.

“Are you ready to cause a little hell, little one.” I just smirk my eyes turning to that of the universe. “Aren’t I always.” I hear her snort as a laugh and just like that she’s off like the lighting flashing around us, the shadow creatures close behind.

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Please Reblog I would like to know what you think of it

Thank you to @antis-gauge for Translating for me from English to Greek

Emerald = Unconditional Love of Any Kind

Rose Quartz = compassion and peace, tenderness and healing, nourishment and comfort

Blue Lapis = Open communication

Amethyst = Balance

Σπαθί = Spade

Τριφύλλι = Club

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@immabethehero

@antis-gauge

@therealtiger77

@nerdylampeclipseuniversity

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