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tinyboxxtink · 2 years

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"Spring Break '86" *Chapter 12*

Chapter 11

Chapter 13

I know guys, I know.

But to be fair, I gotta keep this lasting until NEXT weekend!

Speaking of...

SO, funny story:

I'm gonna be at a convention in Austin from Thursday-Sunday next week. [31ist-4th[

I can probably fit in watching all of Part 2-- the last time this happened, we did end up watching the whole thing on down times.

But damn am I gonna have to literally stay off EVERYTHING until that happens. I won't be able to handle it if Eddie dies.

But um, anyway-- i'm going to do my best to finish up before then. And get through Part 2 as fast as possible.

Also-- not to be that girl, but: the reblogs and comments make me wanna write more and sooner. 😅😜

Okay, here we go!

-----

Looking at Vecna for the first time in person, you quickly lost all your sass and strength against him. You buried your head in Eddie’s chest.

“I don’t wanna do this,” you whimpered.

“Aww” Vecna mocked you. “Big bad Y/N can’t take it in person?”

“Shut up,” Eddie growled, pulling you closer.

“Yeah, you can’t have her,” Robin snapped.

“Oh, I don’t need her,” Vecna chuckled. “I’ve got all you cretins to choose from now,”

“What?” You suddenly snapped to attention, looking at your friends with fear. “No, no you don’t want them Vecna, fuck with me,”

“Me me me, it’s all about me,” Vecna mocked you.

“Alright, fine,” he cracked his knuckles and rolled his neck, looking down at all of you. “You want me to ‘fuck with you’, Y/N? How’s this?”

He waved his hands and suddenly all four of your friends were in his power. Their eyelids convulsing, their bodies stiff.

“NO!!!!” You screamed, running to Eddie first. This was horrifying, you hated that Eddie saw someone like this. Saw you like this.

You then went down the line, checking everyone. They were all the same-- un-moving, eye blinking, statues.

“Shit shit shit,” you muttered to yourself, hearing Vecna’s laugh in the background.

“See where your selfishness gets you, Y/N?. Now all of your friends are suffering because of you,”

“I said take ME, jackass!” you screamed, now returning to Eddie’s side.

“Ah but see,” Vecna lowered himself down to you. “The more guilt and fear I build in you, the more delicious it will be when I wipe your brain. Your pain neurons are like crack,”

While you argued with Vecna, your four friends were trapped in their own hell.

Robin was in the video store, being heckled by patrons who somehow knew she was gay. They were spitting on her, calling her slurs. Her mother was there, saying how she raised her better than that.

Steve was caught in the video store as well, but he was being bombarded from former classmates telling him he’d never amount to anything. Saying that he peaked in high school, and he’d never go anywhere. Nancy was at the forefront of them, saying how much of a loser he was and how she couldn’t believe she had dated him.

Nancy was stuck in the newsroom with everyone not listening to her as editor. Telling her she was worthless, she couldn’t even keep a boyfriend. Then Jonathan appeared, telling her how much he hated her, that he never loved her.

But Eddie’s, Eddie’s was the worst of them all.

--------

He started out in his garage, his buddies from High School, playing D&D. He knew immediately where he was, when he was.

It was the day you had come over to tell him you loved him.

He immediately whipped his head around to see the door open, a young you standing in front of him.

“Y/N,” He went to hug you, but you yelled at him before he could move.

“FINE, YOU WANNA BE A DRUGGIE AND A LOSER, FUCK YOU TOO!!!”

“What?” he shook his head, still trying to walk to you. “No, no! I love you, Y/N,”

“Y-You do?” “you” asked him tearfully.

“Yes!” He smiled and kept going towards you, but the door SLAMMED in front of him before he could reach you.

“EDDIE!!!” He could hear you screaming through the door. He ran to it and began pounding on it.

“Y/N!” He screamed. “Y/N I’M COMING!!!”

“EDDIE!!!!” Your voice echoed through the door. “HE’S COMING!!!!”

“NO NO NO!!!” He knocked his body against the door, trying to break it down.

“EDDIE!!!” You screamed one last time, Eddie finally kicking the door off the hinges. But he was met with an empty hallway.

He was in his old house. The house he lived in with his mom, and his dad before the piece of shit took off on him. He looked around warily, the colors of the house looking faded and the furniture broken. His anxiousness was beginning to soar, remembering all the bad memories here.

“EDDIE, CLEAN YOUR ROOM OR YOUR GIRLFRIEND GETS IT!”

Suddenly his mom’s voice was booming behind him. He turned around to see his mom, holding a knife to your throat.

“...M-Mom?” he gulped, totally shocked to see her standing in front of him.

“First you killed me, now you’re going to let HER die too!!!!” his mother cackled.

“EDDIE!!! HELP!!!” You screamed at him.

“Y/N!!” He went to charge his mother, but she faded away before his eyes, taking you with her.

“Wait,” Eddie shook his head, starting to become lucid. “Wait, this isn’t real,”

“EDDIE!!!!” He now flipped around to see you being held by Vecna.

“This not ‘real’ enough for you, Eddie?” Venca laughed, running his fingers across your face.

“Eddie…” ‘you’ whimpered, Vecna’s claws digging into the side of your shoulder.

“NO!! STOP!!!” he begged, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Oh fine,” Vecna acted as if he was going to toss you down, but he grabbed your head and ripped it off, dropping your body to the floor.

“OH MY GOD!!! NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!” Eddie screamed in agony, falling to his knees.

----------

Upside Down

Eddie’s body began to rise as his horror fantasy was climaxing, ready to claim his life.

“NO!!!” You screamed blood murder as the others slowly began to rise as well.

This was hell. It was literal hell. This wasn’t a joke, this wasn’t Jason the douche wielding a gun like a jackass. There wouldn’t be a way out of this, you were about to see the love of your life ripped apart in front of you.

You HAD to do something, you couldn’t let him die because of you. Not again. You searched around you, looking for anything. Anything you could throw, distract him. Hurt him. You saw a large stick, grabbed it and chunked it at Vecna with all the might you could.

You saw it sail through the air, smacking him right in the face. WIth a loud roar, he shook his head and body from the hit. You saw all four bodies drop instantly, and you didn’t hesitate to run up to Eddie.

“We HAVE to get out of here, Eddie,” you shook him as he came to, sitting up and rubbing his head. When he saw you and your head fully intact, he grabbed you and pulled you as close into him as possible, beginning to sob. He didn’t care who saw him, you were alive.

“Eddie, baby…” you tried calming him down, not liking how the tables had turned. You didn’t know if this was exactly what you looked like when you thought he had died, TWICE, but you didn’t like it.

“Baby we have to go…please,” you tried pulling him to his feet but he clung to you like a child. You looked over at Nancy, Robin, and Steve all slowly getting to their feet.

“Y-You were…” he blubbered, slowly standing up but not letting go of you. “Your head was…”

“Oh, baby,” you looked into his eyes. His beautiful chestnut eyes were filled with tears, he was shaking.

He’d never looked that scared in his life; not in front of you, anyway. You let him pull you into him once more, letting him cry on the top of your head. While comforting him, you saw Vecna coming to his senses, setting his sights on the five of you.

“Shit,” you muffled into his hair, pulling him back slightly. “Baby, we need to go,”

All four of them looked where you were looking and began to run, no questions asked.

You ran and ran as fast as you could, holding tight to Eddie’s hand. You were not going to lose him, you weren’t. You weren’t even sure what you were running to, you just knew you had to get as far away from Vecna as possible.

“I can’t-- run--- anymore--” You felt your legs turning to fire, you couldn’t breathe. Eddie’s hold on your hand grew tighter at your words.

“You HAVE to, Y/N,” He told you, using all of his strength to pull you forward and lift you into the air.

He was now carrying you, while running himself. He was exhausted already, but his fear for your life gave him adrenaline like a mom lifting a car off her child. He finally noticed an empty building, to which he yelled back to the other three:

“Over here!!!!” he gestured with his head towards the building. They all nodded and followed him, not stopping until they were safely inside.

You all just sat there, inside the Upside Down version of a Mickey D’s. The golden arches on the wall mocked you all. After a few minutes of heavy breathing, trying to catch your breaths, you began to cry.

“We’re gonna die here, aren’t we?” you cried, pulling your knees into your chest. Eddie pulled you closer to him, still breathing hard.

“N-No,” he panted. “We’re not. We’re NOT going to die, here, do you hear me Y/N?”

You looked up from your knees into his eyes. “Y-Yeah,”

“We’re not going to die here, because I still have to marry you, and we have to have kids with bad ass Hellfire jackets. And i’ll teach them all D&D, and we’ll have our own campaigns, it’ll be great,”

“Oh God,” you laughed weakly. “Is that supposed to be helping? Because our kids are not playing--”

“Oh they most certainly ARE, Princess,” he smiled.

“Yeah?” you laid against the cash register counter and rubbed his hand with your thumb. “How many?”

“W-What?” he suddenly realized you were surrounded by other people, listening to him be all ‘mushy gushy’. “I-I don’t know babe, I haven’t--”

“Bullshit you haven’t thought about this!” you shoved him playfully. “Come on baby, please? Give me something to live for?”

“Oh thanks a LOT,” Eddie shoved you back. “I’m not enough to live for?”

“Can I tell you what I imagined then?” you asked sweetly, causing his jaw to drop.

“Y-You thought about it?” he asked.

“Eddie I’ve been in love with you since 7th grade,” You blushed. “I’ve planned our lives out together in so many different ways I lost count,”

“R-Really?” Eddie asked again, disbelieving his ears. There was no way his dream girl had been planning their lives together. No way.

“Eddie,” You looked at him seriously. “Come on. It was…you,” you put your hand to his face and leaned in close. “It was always you,”

“Oh my God I swear to God I’m about ready to go take my chances with Vecna,” Steve made gaging noises at the two of you.

“Oh shut up Harrington,” you flipped him off. “Like you haven’t planned out you and Nancy Drew’s life,”

Nancy, Robin and Steve all looked at you with shock and awe, while Eddie laughed in amusement at the comment.

“Excuse you!” Nancy cried, Steve looking at you with the same sentiment.

“Look Steve,” you put a hand on his knee. “Maybe it’s the exhaustion or the blood loss talking, but-- I think now’s the time to start tying up loose ends,”

“Blood loss--?” Eddie’s ears perked up, he began to search your body for wounds.

“Y/N I just don’t--” Steve rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“Jonathan and I are breaking up,” Nancy suddenly announced, making the three of them look in shock, while you laughed.

“TOLD you!” you cackled.

“What do you mean you ‘broke up’?” Steve asked Nancy.

“I mean not technically,” she made a face.

“What does that mean?!” crossed his arms.

“It’s complicated, I don’t know--” she threw her hands up in distress. “Can we just--?” she motioned away from the group.

They both stepped off to the side to have their own conversation, just as Eddie touched your lower back.

“SSSSsssrttt!!!” You hissed as he touched the gash wound. “Fuck me Eddie, that hurts!”

“Yeah? Does it?” Eddie asked you in an angry voice. “So why didn’t you speak up about this before?!”

“Um GEE,” You mocked him. “Maybe it was because I was watching the love of my life floating in the GODDAMN AIR!!!”

“Oh for fuck’s sake--” Eddie groaned while taking off his jacket and tying it around your waist tightly, hoping to stop the bleeding.

“God,” you shook your head with a sad laugh once more. “Look at us. One of us is really going to die, aren’t they?”

“STOP saying that,” Eddie growled.

“Look where we’re sitting, Eddie!” you gestured around. “If you’re not at the brink of death, then I am! We just keep trading! Because we’re idiots!”

“Hey!” Eddie snapped. “For the record, that last time wasn’t my fault,”

“And this one wasn’t mine!” you gestured to your wound.

“Bullshit,” Eddie scoffed. “I know one of those beasty mother fuckers took a chunk out of your back!”

“Look just--” You started to tear up. “Just go, okay? Go to your trailer, find the other portal, and get out of here, okay?”

“Okay you must be loopy because you know there’s no way in hell that’s ever happening,” Eddie laughed.

“What are you gonna do Eds, huh?” You sadly smiled at him. “You gonna carry me the whole way?”

“YES!” He nodded enthusiastically. “Yes that’s EXACTLY what I’m going to--”

“We went the wrong way,” you laughed and cried harder.

“What?” he asked.

“To the trailer park,” you gestured outside. “When we started running, we ran in the opposite direction,”

“Shit…” Eddie whispered as he looked out the window, realizing you were right. His trailer was on the opposite side of town.

“Now we have to make it twice as far,” you sadly laughed. “Which means we’ll DEFINITELY die, which means--”

“SHUT. THE FUCK. UP!!!!!!!” Eddie suddenly bellowed, making everyone wince.

“Eddie, I--”

“No,” he told you sternly, getting inches away from your face. “No ‘Eddie’. No tearful goodbyes, no romancing some kind of fake life with fake kids, no more accepting that we are going to just sit here, and die. NO MORE, do you hear me Henderson?”

“....Okay,” you nodded quietly.

“We all have to stay optimistic,” Robin piped up, feeling like the fifth wheel.

“What?”

“Vecna preys on the vulnerable and desperate, right?” SHe pointed out. “So we have to stay positive!”

“She’s right,” you agreed, to which Robin smiled.

“So let’s focus on staying together,” Steve suggested, now returning to the group holding Nancy’s hand.

“Good talk, I assume,” you wiggled your eyebrows weakly with a small smile, making Nancy blush.

“Oh good,” Robin rolled her eyes. “Now I really am the fifth wheel,”

“Hey, Buckley,” Eddie hit her softly. “What did you just say?!”

“Yeah, I know,” she put her hands on her head and began pacing. “I just…I don’t think I’ll ever have that,”

“Hey,” you waved at her, getting her attention.

“You shouldn’t focus on that. Focus on this: you’ve got four people here who know who you are. ALL of you. And we all accept and love you for who you are. Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Yeah,” she nodded with a small smile, looking around at the group. It was true, she had never had this many people she could be fully herself with.

“I guess that is something,” she shrugged with a smile.

“Okay then!” Eddie clapped his hands together, getting a fake enthusiastic tone. “We better get going, gang!”

“Please, don’t,” You groaned. “That is the scariest thing I’ve ever heard,”

“Oh shut your hole, Henderson,” Eddie scoffed as he picked you up and let you lean on him while you all walked. “I used to be a pretty happy kid, if you remember,”

“Happy kid?” Steve laughed loudly. “Yeah, no. I don’t buy that,”

“He was, believe it or not,” You defended him, making Eddie stick his tongue out in triumph.

In fact, you could recall the day he stopped being a ‘happy kid’.

------

Four Years Ago, Hawkins HIgh

You saw Eddie coming down the hall and braced for a dirty comment, but were met with silence. In fact, he didn’t look at all like he was in the jovial mood. His bag was clutched closely to his bod, his head looked down at the floor. His hair was covering his face, but you could have sworn you heard muffled sobbing sounds when he walked past you.

“I um,” you looked at your fellow cheermates. “I forgot something in my locker, I’ll be right back,”

You walked down the hall to follow Eddie before waiting for a response. He was moving fast, but you kept up with him. You both sped walked across campus, until he finally stopped dead in his tracks in the parking lot behind the school.

“WHY are you following me, Henderson?” He asked you very loudly and angrily, without so much as a turn of the head your way.

“Because--” you stepped closer now that he had stopped walking, but you could tell he was visibly shaking so you made small movements.

“I’ve never seen you like this, Eddie,”

“Oh what do you know, huh?!” he spun around to face you, his face visibly tormented. Tears were rolling down his cheeks replacing dry ones, his eyes were red from even more crying.

“Oh, Eddie--” you started to go hug him, but his hands were up instantly, blocking you from any of his personal space.

“UH UH, NO,” He spat. “No ‘Eddie’...” he mocked your voice, trying to stop crying.

“NO. You-- you don’t get to sit there and make fun of me with your little fucking sheeples everyday, and then all of a sudden you wanna hug it out just because my--” He stopped and threw a hand over his mouth as if to keep from his words from spilling out.

“Your what?” You searched his face, trying to figure out what he was saying. It was so much easier when you were kids, when you were so in sync. You knew everything he was thinking, sometimes before he did. But now, his face was completely foreign to you.

“Nothing, just--” He started to turn back around and walk to his car, but you were done with games.

You walked right in front of him, stopping his path.

“Eddie Munson you tell me what’s wrong with you right now or I’ll--”

“Or you’ll what, Princess?” he barked, towering over you. “What the fuck are you gonna do to me? Ignore me? Make fun of me? Pretend we were never friends? OH WAIT--”

“Oh come on Eddie now is not the time to act like a child--” You rolled your eyes and began to chastise him when he yelled over you.

“Yeah well maybe it is because I just lost my MOM, Y/N!”

“....W-What?”

“Y-You wanna know what’s ‘wrong’ with me? Why I’m ‘upset’?” He began to cry again, but stopped himself. He wasn’t giving you the satisfaction.

“Because I just killed the one person who gave a shit about me,”

“What?” you blinked repeatedly, trying to process what he said. “That can’t be-- you wouldn’t--”

“She went into the hospital for ‘stress’, and then she never came out,” Eddie elaborated. “You tell me what she had to be that stressed about, that it would literally kill her,”

“I-i don’t know!” you cried, trying to think of things. “Bills, money, mortgage, a million other things other than--”

“ME,” He pointed to himself, now getting in your face. “ME. She was stressed about ME. And it KILLED HER,”

“No,” you shook your head. He just shook his head with a sad laugh and started walking away from you in response, but you chased after him.

“No that is NOT TRUE, Eddie!” you grabbed his hands and made him look at you.

“Look you and your mom may not have had the-- best relationship,”

You thought about how different his mom sounded the last time you had seen her. So-- downtrodden, about her own son. Maybe Eddie had a point. Not like you’d ever say that out loud.

“But she loved you,” you finally added with a small smile.

“Yeah, I know,” he ripped his hands from yours and continued to walk. “She was the last person left,”

Your heart broke at those words. You wanted to run after him and tell him he was wrong; that you did love him and you were sorry things had gotten so fucked up, and that you wanted to be there for him now that he didn’t have anyone--

But you didn’t.

----------

“Y/N? Y/N? Y/N!” Eddie’s voice drew you back to the present day.

You shook your head and remembered all your surroundings. Eddie had laid you down on a bench when you had nodded off, thinking the worst.

“W-What?” You blinked rapidly, trying to orient yourself. You sat up and looked around, as Eddie’s arms went around you.

“Jesus Christ,” he laughed into your hair. “Stop doing that to me,”

“What?” you furrowed your eyebrows.

“Scaring the shit out of me, that’s what!” he exclaimed.

“She’s lost way too much blood,” Nancy shook her head at the current situation. “We need to get her to a hospital or--”

“DON’T, Even say it. Don’t even THINK IT, Wheeler,” he warned her.

“Well!” She threw her hands up, gesturing at you. “Someone has to think logically here! Not just sobbing at her bedside every time she passes out!”

“You little--” Eddie started to lunge at her.

“AY HEY HEY HEY!” Steve body checked Eddie real quick. “Simmer down there, buddy,”

“She’s right,” Robin sided with Nancy, drawing more disapproval noises from Eddie.

“Look, I get that all of you are-- ‘scholarly’,” he air quoted.

“Scholarly?” Steve raised an eyebrow, glancing at Robin. “We work at a fucking video store, dude,”

“Look whatever, man,” Eddie shook his head, cradling you in his arms. “I just know that I can’t lose her, and I don’t want any science telling me otherwise,”

“...We could get her to a hospital,” Robin suggested.

“What?” Nancy half laughed at the idea. “How?”

“It’s still Hawkins, right?” Steve pointed to the right. “The hospital should be a block that way,”

“Oh and what are you gonna do Steve, ask a demo-dog to operate on her?” Nancy snarked.

“NANCY,” Steve yelled in frustration. “They’ll at least have supplies to-- stitch her up,”

“He’s right,” Robin agreed.

“Oh my god,” Nancy laughed to herself as they changed their route. “If you say so,”

Eddie hung back as he carried you, catching Steve before he got to the girls. “Hey man,” he nodded at him. “Thank you, really,”

“No problem, my dude,” Steve gave him a genuine smile. “If it was Nancy, i’d be the same way,”

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded with a small laugh. He knew Steve was telling the truth, he looked at Nancy the way he had wanted you to look at him for years. And now you did. And you would. Forever. He just knew it.

“Eddie,” you murmured weakly in his arms.

“Yeah baby?” he cooed.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized.

“For what now?” He softly chuckled.

“Your mom,” you played with his ring on your finger.

“My mom?” his nose scrunched. “What are you--”

“I should have gone after you that day,” you interrupted.

“Oh,” Eddie looked down, knowing exactly what you meant. “It’s-- it’s fine,”

“It’s not,” you insisted.

“Well, it’s in the past now,” He smiled at you.

“Yeah,” You put a hand to his face. “I still wanted to say it. Just in case--”

“NO,” He shook you gently in his arms. “You stop it right now. I’ll forgive you for leaving me alone after my mom died, but I will not forgiving you for leaving me alone forever,”

“Okay okay,” you laughed, lifting yourself to press your lips against his.

Yo u just walked in silence after that, both praying you’d make it in time.

-----------

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libidomechanica · 11 months

Text

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#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #210 texts #ballad

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jemmo · 2 years

Text

my sister watches bad buddy - ep 3

- omg look at his gay lil high school crush

- ‘that wasn’t a smile’ he says… smiling

- pran at the noodle shop like ‘rlly hope I’m I don’t run into that guy I mounted 10 seconds ago’

- omg the back and forth, the bickering, the domesticity of it all

- there’s an innuendo I could make about a chopstick fight but this is too cute to ruin

- pran wanna be that dumpling

- it’s a date! he paid, that means it’s a date!

- pat: let’s race pran: pls you’re so childish also pran: cheats to get a head start

- his lil floppy flops!!

- dw pran, pat will resort to underhand tactics to beat you

- his lil pouty lips!! he’s such a dick!!!

- STOP FUCKING FLIRTING

- can the man pls not be so lovesick, it’s putting me off my chicken

- fucking ok wai, what did the chair do to you??

- i could really do with a moral compass like pa. i need to be called out on my shit too

- oof. i felt when he dropped that can

- pat being the least subtle stalker ever

- pran grabbing pat by the shirt like ‘ may be mad but at least now I can fulfil my dream of pushing this man against a wall’

- noooooo don’t say that, he looks so sad *pat smirks* scratch that, I should’ve known, he’s evil

- pat trying to get back into pran’s good books like “you know you’d miss me if I wasn’t annoying you”

- me and pat have the same level of self-confidence except his is deserved and mine is delusional

- “you think I want to be this close” no in fact he wants to be closer

- pran’s longing stare is rlly stinking up that lift

- it’s like when someone farts in a lift and everyone’s looking around for the culprit except it’s just strangers looking at each other like ‘do you see those gays gaying over there’

- you ever plaster your whole body against your buddy for *jokes*

- can they stop with all the dog talk, it’s like they’re asking for a furry fic

- sniff him! sniff him! SNIFF HIM!

- and pran nutted right there

- he just wants to hang out! don’t be mean! he dressed up so hot for you!

- i will never cave so easy *gets called babe* I have caved

- pat malewife confirmed!!!!

- pat is on crack for this, how dare he

- i’m not against public sex, and pat was so mountable in that scene

- pat in this ep is just like *shouts aggressively* no I will be your knight in shining armour!

- pat might be a himbo but he can still manipulate his fellow himbos to do his bidding

- knock on the door already gay boy!!

- he’s reaching out! I’m so proud!

- omg can he stop tho. he’s too good, I actually hate it. stop being a good boy

- *physically convulsed and squealed bc of the way pat looked at pran*

- pran stop lusting so hard this is a public hallway!

- he a happy boi!!!!!

(ep 1) (ep 2)

+ if you miss my rants, heres a lil footnote

just wanted to add this bc me and my sister usually chat after the ep and she said something about how ep 3 is just pat trying to make pran happy, and trying to do good things for him, but them never working or pran always seeing the bad, and them not even being his fault but pat just trying to make things right. and then when everything’s settled, he rights something by giving pran his guitar back and finally he turns the door hanger and pat has made him happy!

i just never thought of ep 3 like this, but it’s so cute. the way that none of it is his fault, the bus stop or the rebuild or the expenses, but bc the responsibility is put on pran, and pran kinda puts the blame on pat as a form of defence and bc it’s maybe easier to get mad at him than at the real guilty people, pat takes it upon himself to fix things. bc pat wouldn’t have done any of this normally, but bc it inconveniences pran and makes him sad, he has to do it. he’s not forced, he does it off his own back. and it’s almost like this healing cycle, bc it’s like pran knows he can blame pat bc pat will fix things, bc pat can put it right for him, it’s a way pran can take all the burden put on him and put it on someone else and have it looked after and dealt with. unlike every other negative force in his life, here he can be mad about something and see someone actually try to right it. no one else does that for him, not his parents or his friends. he’s mad at the situation but it’s like he knows voicing that won’t make them change. but here, pat changes, pat goes to the effort of doing this for him, where pran feels like no one else would. i just think that’s so good.

and it’s the same with the guitar, it’s not pats fault, but bc pran has to take the fall, pat takes it upon himself to put things right and return it. getting mad at his mom won’t give him any catharsis bc she won’t apologise, but getting mad at pat, he will apologise, he will try to make up for it. and I just rlly like that pat is this way for pran to see that there’s good in the world, there’s ppl that want to do stuff for him, that his anger is valid and that ppl want to make him feel better. instead of always being responsible for other peoples feelings, someone else can be responsible for his. and i just know if Pat had seen him turn that door hanger he would’ve jumped for joy bc finally he made pran happy, that’s all he ever wants

#I’m so sorry this is so late #i literally just keep on forgetting to tidy up these notes and post them #we’re actually on ep 6 now #so I’ll post eps 4 and 5 this week I promise #anyway just need you all to know that my sister is head over heels in love with pat #officially top 5 people ever #and that’s a lot for her #but yes she may be more than a little whipped for him #and this ep was just a lot of screaming about them being gross and so obviously in love #she lives for the the longing #bad buddy #made by jemmo

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slimy-vore-bog · 2 years

Text

Suffocating Fear

Disclaimer: all my work is non-sexual N/SF/W interaction is not appreciated

*starts jittering with excitement*

m o r e V O R E!

Wrote some vore with this gay! (meant to write gal, but that’s funnier)

It’s my 3rd version of Owl Cat/Cursed Luz. 4th, if you count the 2nd Owl Cat’s redesign.

Anyway I have a summary for this story!

Luz had known she felt off for a while, but when it hits her how bad it is; it's already too late. Her body convulses with pain and she can't register anything other that, until she's done with her gruesome transformation. Amity is left to look on in horror, as Luz turns into a huge owl-like beast.

Things only get worse from there, as they both realize that the giant beast has its own terrifying way of showing affection to its smaller companions.

A cover that I used for wattpad I think looks cool and I need to show:

SOME WARNINGS!!

1. I included a description of Luz turning into the owl cat. It’s not graphic per se...? but it’s described as painful and I tried to make it as unsettling as possible. No flesh will be tearing, let’s say that.

2. This story is safe vore, but prey character will think she’s about to die in the stomach of the pred. So it’s very much unwilling prey (like a lot of my stories)

3. Brief mention of hard vore at the end, as the characters talk about how sharp Luz’s beak is. Though only a fictional pillow was hurt in the making of this story lol

And a small note: I’ll start tagging The Owl House vore as both TOH and T0H vore, because I’m curious about what’s going to happen and still want to keep the old tag for blacklist reasons. If I start getting hate from the fandom, it has shown up in main tags and I’ll go back to only T0H

(also the title is word play again, like A Consuming Curiosity, so it applies to both Luz and Amity, if you twist the meaning)

Read on ao3

Read on Wattpad

Word count: 4.8k

***

As much as Luz tried, she couldn’t ignore the strange prickling feeling that went through her body anymore. “Amity, I think something is wrong,” she confessed, putting a hand up to her head, as she felt like everything was spinning. “I’m getting really dizzy.”

Amity’s eyes widened in surprise, as she quickly moved her hand to catch her just before she fell over. “Do you think you can make it back to the Owl House?” But one look at the human girl’s face told her there was no chance. The distant look on it sent shivers up her spine. Her voice quivered, as she spoke, “Luz?”

Luz blinked, looking at her for a second before her eyelids squeezed shut and she let out a small cry of pain. After a short and painful gasp of air, she opened her eyes again and Amity felt every muscle in her body freeze up.

Luz’s eyes were completely black, and she immediately noticed something was different about her vision as she looked around. “Why is everything grey?” Her head snapped back towards Amity, but before she could speak again, she doubled over in pain.

Her body was morphing within seconds. Her neck was stretching longer and becoming less sturdy by the second as Luz’s head was hanging limply at the end of it. She fell over with a loud cry of pain. Her nose and lips were hardening into keratin, as they were growing into a sharp beak.

Luz tried to get back up on her legs, but she fell over again with a distressed shriek. It was a high-pitched hiss-like scream and it sent a cold shiver down Amity’s spine. It was not a noise that should ever come from Luz.

Luz’s small ears started changing into large pointed ears, while her head shape itself began looking more fitting for her beak.

Luz let out another screech, before gigantic feathers started bursting out all over her body. Though they didn’t look as unnaturally big for long, as her body rapidly grew to fit them.

Amity was still frozen to where she was standing, before she was thrown away by one of Luz’s developing wings.

There was a panicked shriek from Luz, but Amity didn’t focus on it, as she tried to catch her breath. She could barely pull in a breath that wasn’t a quick gasp. Her ribs didn’t allow her breathe deeply, as they shot a sharp pain through her chest whenever she tried.

Luz suddenly stood over Amity, and she got to see what the transformation had done to her girlfriend.

She was staring up at a barn owl’s face, before she was suddenly snatched up in its beak and lifted off the ground.

Amity groaned loudly instead of the scream she had meant to let out. “Luz!” she yelled as loudly as she could, but the owl didn’t react to her distressed noises, as it flew up into the trees.

Luz’s talons locked around a thick tree branch, before she placed Amity down on a branch in front of her.

Amity nearly fell off it, but she managed to regain her balance. She looked down to see how high up they were and nearly lost her balance again out of shock. She would be lucky only ended up with a couple broken bones, if she had fallen from that height.

Her eyes shifted to the owl, the wind rustled the leaves around them, while Amity felt the horror of it all sink in deeper.

Amity stared at Luz, as Luz leaned down to look at her too, but she could only feel worried for her girlfriend instead of any sort of fear for herself, while dark eyes inspected her.

A thought crept around deeper in her mind, if it was a good idea to make eye contact with Luz or if it would aggravate her. But it was too deep down for her to really do anything with, because of the concern that had taken over most of her mind.

Luz nuzzled her with her beak, and Amity noticed that Luz was purring. “Luz?” she questioned, unsure of how much of the demon was still her. Why isn’t she more scared if it’s her? A cold chill ran through her. Is she just a wild beast now? Her stomach churned and she could feel a strong wave of nausea hit her. Her mind dug the thought in deeper. Is she not my Luz anymore? She clutched her stomach and gagged loudly.

There was a startled clack of Luz’s beak in front of her, before said beak nuzzled against her again. The owl opened her wing, and gently picked Amity up in the hand that was uncovered from under her feathers.

Amity swallowed, trying to quell her nausea, while she stared up at Luz. The owl leaned her head out towards her awkwardly postured wing, when a look of frustration fell over her eyes and she stomped her talons on the branch.

Amity looked down to the ground, as realized that she was trapped in the owl’s grasp. “Luz…” she felt hesitant about calling it that, when she couldn’t know if it even was her. “Can you put me back down?”

The owl opened her beak slightly, looking embarrassed, before she nodded and put Amity down beside her.

Amity sat awkwardly on the branch, taking a few seconds to calm down. Luz listened to me. Her stomach wasn’t clenching as badly anymore. She took a deep breath, before she let out a sigh of relief. She felt more sure she was sitting next to Luz and not just a demon that used to be her. But it didn’t answer her first thought. “Why are you so calm about this?”

Luz tilted her head down and moved her head to help her concentrate. It was frustrating not to be able to move her eyes anymore.

Amity raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean no? Are you not-”

Luz tilted her head toward her, before she held up a finger.

Amity let out a hum, waiting for her to explain her lack of panic.

Luz’s head continued to sway for bit, as she tried to figure out how to explain what she felt. It was true that she was acting calm about it, but something was dampening the part of her that wanted to scream and freak out and worry. How can I explain that? If she could mime something, Amity might get it.

Amity let Luz pick her up with her hand again, as she was put back up at the branch in front of Luz.

Luz pointed to her head with her talon, before she straightened up in a startled manner, her feathers closing tight to her body in fright, spinning her head to look around. She tilted her head at Amity, hoping she understood her so far, but she was only getting more confused. She pointed to herself, before she paused. How would I say that part? She held her talon awkwardly, before she pushed it downwards, repeating it to make sure Amity knew it was part of what she was saying.

Amity was pretty sure she got the first part, but the second seemed meaningless to her. “You’re scared and… you’re lowered?” Her eyes widened, before her brow furrowed again. That can’t be right… The gesture didn’t look like what she was thinking. “Do you mean you feel less like yourself?”

Luz bounced on her branch, happy that Amity almost got it. Just need to explain exactly… She tilted her head slightly. Or wait… It hadn’t been what she meant, but her feelings didn’t feel like they were hers. The lack of panic wasn’t what she felt herself. Do I feel less like myself? After a few seconds of consideration, she nodded.

Amity felt another chill run through her, but it wasn’t as bad, knowing that she was still next to Luz for now. “Is it getting worse?” If Luz was losing more of herself then they had to figure something out fast.

But Luz shook her head, lessening Amity’s fear of losing her slightly.

Amity was unsure of what to say, but she knew Luz couldn’t add anything to make it less awkward. “Do you think we should go back?” she asked, scratching the back of her head.

Luz’s head spun around as she tried to figure out where exactly they were. She had lost track of that after her painful transformation. But it only took a few seconds to figure out. She gently grabbed Amity with her beak, being too scared to use her talons, before she flew down from the tree and towards the owl house.

Amity still didn’t like the way Luz held her, but she didn’t protest it this time. Knowing that Luz wasn’t going to eat her helped her not panic. Though she didn’t like how Luz’s rough and dry tongue prodded her.

Luz had already landed, but she couldn’t help being curious about how Amity felt in her beak. She didn’t have a taste at all, but something about holding her in it felt right. It gave her the same feeling a hug would. Or she could sense it would if Amity was down her throat.

Amity fell out of Luz’s beak and hit the ground hard. “Luz!” she shouted, holding in a whimper. “Be careful!” But when she looked up at Luz, she could tell something was wrong. “Why do you look so scared?”

Luz didn’t want to answer as she shook her head and pointed at the house. Her thoughts muddled together; her mind was finding it hard to distinguish a hug from swallowing someone by the second. What’s wrong with me? she questioned, her own panic finally getting a say in how she acted. I have to get back to Eda. She was sure that Eda could help.

They walked the last few steps out from the trees and Hooty finally noticed them.

He stretched out, his eyes wide and on Luz, before he turned his head to Amity. “Amity, is that a wild demon?” His feathers puffed out threateningly. He let out an irritated ‘hoot’. “Just because this is the Owl House doesn’t mean you can bring all types of owls here!” He hissed at Luz.

Amity heard Luz was getting unusually irritated too, as she heard her tongue click threateningly. “Hooty, relax, it’s Luz! Something happened to her, so-” Amity looked at the door, unsure if Luz could even fit through it, “-we need to talk to Eda.”

Hooty looked skeptical, but he quickly opened the door and called inside. “Hey Eda! Something happened to Luz!” He paused, before he shouted back, “I don’t know! But Amity’s saying that this weird owl out here is her!”

Amity’s eyes widened, as she heard Eda come running. She had hoped she could at least have found better way to tell her than just shouting it inside the house.

Luz stepped from foot to foot nervously. Is Eda going to think I got cursed? She suddenly had a really bad feeling. Did I get cursed? She looked at her body, but that didn’t make any sense. The few times she had seen Eda as herself in her cursed form she needed someone’s help to get her back to herself. What happened to me? Her panic finally seemed to be breaking through whatever shell that had been keeping her calm.

Amity stumbled backwards, when Eda ran out of the door. Eda froze, when she saw Luz. Her eyes briefly met Amity’s, but Amity couldn’t meet her gaze for more than that second.

Eda was at a loss for words, before she found her voice again. “How did this happen!?”

Amity looked down, still not wanting to meet Eda’s eyes. “I don’t know… We were just walking together and Luz started feeling dizzy and then she turned into this.” She looked back up at Luz, noticing how uncomfortable she was. She carefully put a hand on her to brush her feathers, hoping it would make her feel a little better. “We don’t know what to do…”

Luz tilted her head down to look at Amity. She sat down to let Amity stroke more of her feathers and began to purr.

Amity couldn’t help smiling slightly, when she heard her purr again. If they could figure out a way to fix whatever happened to Luz, then maybe they could spend just a few minutes like this. She stopped petting her feathers and looked back at Eda, noticing her irritation. “Sorry.” She felt her face heat up in an embarrassed blush, before she continued. “We need to how to get her back to normal.”

Luz stared down at Amity, wishing she would continue to pet her. She leaned her head down and began preening Amity’s hair, though that only earned her a confused look. Luz sensed too late that something was wrong with her thoughts, after she opened her beak wider around Amity’s head.

Amity didn’t immediately panic, when Luz tried to grab her in her beak. She’s just being weird… “Stop messing around!” But Luz didn’t let go when Amity pushed against her beak. A cold feeling of dread crept through her body. “Luz?”

Luz lifted Amity off the ground, the thought of letting Amity go barely registered in her mind. It was there, just too deep for her to act on. She jerked her head up and forward to get Amity in a better position to swallow.

“Luz!” She kicked her legs wildly, despite there being nothing for her to hit. “Luz, stop! Help!” Something wrapped around her legs, but it quickly disappeared. No! She needed something to pulled her back out. “Eda! Hooty!”

Luz turned away from the others, not wanting them to take Amity away from her. She spread her wings out, before she flew off to find a more peaceful place to swallow Amity.

Amity could feel Luz had taken off, but it could also buy her a few minutes of time, depending on how far she wanted to fly. “Don’t eat me!” She squirmed against the hard beak upper body was stuck in, but Luz didn’t seem to care about her protests.

Luz flew back into the forest, quickly finding the big tree she had sat in earlier, and tipped her head up again. She jerked her head upwards in a strong swallow, beginning to purr again when some of Amity started slipping down her throat.

She repeated the movement, as whatever was smothering her emotions wanted Amity down in the safe pouch inside her body. Luz knew there was no way it was safe for Amity, but the constricting feeling around her thoughts and emotions didn’t let her question it enough to spit Amity out.

Amity continued to kick and shout, but Luz didn’t listen to her and she was almost too far down to be saved. “Please, Luz, spit me out! You’re going to kill me!”

Luz didn’t still wouldn’t listen.

Another strong toss of Luz’s head was all it took for Amity to be sealed inside her throat.

Amity pushed against her throat and kicked as hard as she could, but Luz’s body didn’t seem slightly bothered at her squirming. It only kept squeezing her down with wet squelches. Her body tensed up in terror, when she felt her head starting to get pressed into a bigger space.

She got her arms out in front of her to try to push herself back out, when she slid into Luz’s stomach. Her eyes squeezed shut tightly, as tears started running down her face. She kicked the fleshy walls around her. “Let me out!”

Luz pressed her head closer to her body, purring even louder. Deeper down she hated how much she enjoyed the feeling of Amity inside her stomach. Because even if it was due to her state, the real her liked it, closing her wings in tighter around her body, trying to hug Amity even tighter. She tilted her head down at her chest to look at where Amity was, hearing her screaming again. “Please! Let me out!”

She wanted to, but it felt less severe to her than it was, as she puffed out her feathers to get ready to take a nap. She decided that she would let her out whenever she woke up and ignored Amity’s protests, before she quickly drifted off.

Amity both heard and felt Luz stop purring. When she heard how slow her heart beat, she realized that Luz had fallen asleep. “No! Luz, let me out!” She kicked her again, but she didn’t react to any of her fighting. Her own heartbeat sped up even more, as the realization of what had happened to her sunk in.

Luz ate me. She couldn’t wrap her head around her next thought. I’m going to die inside Luz’s stomach. She squirmed to turned herself around, before she screamed for Luz again. “Luz, please! I don’t want to die!” Her tears ran down her face, as she let out a desperate scream.

She kept screaming her name, hoping that she would react, but despite how sensitive her hearing had to be, Luz slept through her shouting.

Amity eventually gave up, curling up with her knees to her chest. I wonder how much time I have left… It was a bit strange that she couldn’t feel her skin burning yet, but she was sure it would start itching soon. Maybe I should look if it’s going red? She hesitantly drew a spell circle in the air to cast a light spell, but it fizzled out. She blinked into the darkness, before she tried and again with more focus on what she wanted to do, but nothing changed.

Amity’s blood ran cold. Why isn’t my magic working? She tried to squirm back up on her feet in a fright. What happened to my magic?! Even though she was never going to use it on Luz, she thought she had at least made a selfless choice and to not do it, but she didn’t even have a choice.

She gasped for breath again and again. She couldn’t tell if it was due to panic or her running out of breathable air. She felt like she was going to pass out, as she gasped the humid air into her lungs in too short breaths. I’m going to die! She clawed at Luz’s stomach walls, but it was useless. Her head felt like it was getting heavier and then everything was gone.

¨¨

Luz’s eyes blinked open when she woke up. Her stomach felt nice and full, but it was much less squirmy than before she fell asleep.

Her feathers sucked in close to her body in fright and she nearly crashed in her hurried attempted to glide down from the tree. Amity! She immediately began making herself sick. Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead! The thought repeated in her head, as whatever was inside her stomach started making its way back up her throat.

Amity fell out of her beak, not looking much worse than being drenched and slimy, but she wasn’t moving.

Luz shrieked, before poking her with her beak in alarm, but Amity didn’t respond.

Luz shook out her feathers and took a deep breath. Calm down… You haven’t even checked if she’s still breathing! she reminded herself. She focused on listening, instantly realizing that she was still alive. How do I wake her up?

But she didn’t have to worry about it for too long, as the change in temperature from Luz’s body to the night air finally got through to Amity and got her out of her unconscious state with a strong shiver.

Luz’s feathers pressed in towards her body again, before she backed away. She wanted to run away, so she didn’t have to be yelled at, but leaving Amity alone out in the forest at night didn’t seem like a good idea.

Amity felt confused, as she slowly got up on her knees. What happened? Everything around her was a little too dark for her eyes, but the cold air told her she wasn’t still in Luz’s stomach. Why am I not dead? She looked down into her hands, everything getting a slight bit lighter from the tiny amount of light the stars gave off. Does my magic work? She hurriedly made a spell circle and cast a light spell.

Luz tilted her head at Amity, wondering why she looked right past her, before she realized that she couldn’t see as well in the dark as Luz could now. But I can’t see colors anymore… Amity’s pretty lavender hair looked grey to her now and she would have frowned if she could. She tilted her head again. What is she doing?

Amity stared up at Luz in alarm after hearing her let out a shriek. She almost apologized for blinding her, before she reminded herself that Luz had just eaten her. I guess I’m still alive... But I don’t think that makes up for it. Another shiver traveled through her, but this time it was from the cold.

Luz blinked her eyes until the flashing spots lessened in intensity. Okay, looking at that was stupid… she thought, before she carefully stepped closer to Amity. She’s cold… For a second Luz thought about swallowing her again, but she instantly shoved the thought out of her head. She chirped at Amity instead, pointing towards the Owl House.

Amity wasn’t sure she wanted to go back together with Luz, but it also wasn’t safe for her to sit out in the forest alone. Then again, her chances of getting eaten were probably lower, if she stayed away from the Owl House.

But she was also getting pretty cold and that might be a bigger worry. Or I could light a fire… But she decided to get up and follow Luz home. She didn’t want to risk attracting anything they wouldn’t both swallow her whole and spit her back up.

¨¨

Luz had fit through the door when they came back, but both felt nervous as they found Eda and King in the living room.

Amity felt betrayed that nobody had come to save her. They didn’t even try! Why wouldn’t they at least have tried to get her back out of Luz’s beak?

Luz didn’t know what to think about how tiny the house was at her new size. It made her feel slightly uncomfortable, but she didn’t want to stay outside instead.

“Hey, you two,” called Eda, getting both Amity and Luz’s attention, “do you want to know what happened back there?”

Luz tilted her head.

Amity looked up at Luz, sharing her confusion. “What? How would you know?” She couldn’t help the bit of bite her tone got and she decided to let out her frustration. “Actually, why didn’t you try to save me!?” Luz shrieked in alarm, and Amity quieted down slightly. “Luz ate me and I only felt something grab my leg for maybe a second…” she grumbled, scowling at Eda.

King cleared his throat. “You could have gotten torn apparent, if anyone tried.” He pointed to Luz’s beak. “That thing is really sharp.” He mumbled something under his breath, glancing at Amity, before his eyes lit up, “Eda! Could I get Luz to tear that old pillow apart? I really want to see it!”

“If you can get Luz to do it, go ahead.”

Luz really couldn’t say no to King, and she was curious about it herself. I wonder how easily I could have hurt Amity… She nodded and King quickly put the pillow down in front of her. How would I do this?

Amity watched Luz pick up the pillow in her talon, before she instantly ripped it apart with her beak. Judging by Luz’s shocked expression, and how little her head had turned, it hadn’t been a lot of pressure.

Amity grew quiet, when the realization hit that she could easily have gotten herself killed quicker with her fighting. She could have been ripped apart, if Luz had fought to keep her. “Sorry, I didn’t think about that…” She felt bad for lashing out at them.

Eda brushed her off. “It’s fine, nobody got hurt.”

King interrupted Eda just as she was about to continue. “That’s better than how things normally go!” He laughed, but quickly quieted down. “Right, right, and also we know how to fix this.” He suppressed another giggle, “sorry, I’m just really funny.”

Amity straightened out from her embarrassed slouch. “You do?!” she exclaimed, before she heard another complaining chirp from Luz. “Sorry.” She hesitantly gave Luz a few quick pats as an apology. “How? And why didn’t you say so?”

Eda sighed. “Well, it’s because we need an older witchling as a sacrifice.” She got up from her seat, staring at Amity. “And you’re the nearest one.”

Before Amity even felt a twinge of fear, Luz’s wing pushed her backwards and out of the way. There was a startled scream from King when she began letting out a deep hissing noise.

Amity could barely hear anything other than Luz’s hissing, but King’s voice made it through the threatening noise. “Woah! Relax, it was just a joke!”

Luz quieted down, but she still pulled Amity in closer to her when she folded her wings back up. She looked down at Amity, feeling like she needed to swallow her again. They can’t get to her, if I eat her… She shook her head quickly to get rid of the thought.

Amity looked up at Luz, before looking back to Eda. “But then did you not find a-”

Eda cut her off quickly. “Don’t worry, it just has to go away on its own. Luz will be back to normal in a few weeks’ time…” She gave Luz an apologetic look. “We can’t do anything but wait.”

Amity didn’t like the thought. “So… do you think she’s going to end up trying to eat me again?”

Eda sat back down again and shrugged. “Yeah, probably.” She slouched back in the couch, before gesturing to Luz. “I mean, there was a pretty big risk joking like we just did would have made Luz swallow you.”

Luz’s feathers tightened in against her body again, and Amity voiced her concerns, this time remembering to keep her voice lowered. “Then why would you do that?” she hissed out in an angry whisper. Luz looked down at Amity, hearing her pause. “And why would it make her do that?” Luz tilted her head, doing her best to ignore how much she wanted to swallow her again.

King’s tail wagged. “I get to explain it, right?” He let out a small noise of excitement when Eda nodded. “It’s because the demon she turned into has a relatively large organ inside its body that’s linked with the esophagus, but can safely hold a witch or demon inside it, totally the opposite of a stomach!” he barely took a breath while he spoke enthusiastically, “and it uses the pouch to keep whoever it likes safe inside itself!” He breathed in deeply. “So it would make her do that, because she wants to keep you safe.”

Luz felt a wave of relief flood through her. So I wasn’t trying to kill Amity! Everything clicked into place in her thoughts, as she let out a sigh. I was just holding her close to me… That’s why I thought about it as a hug! And it could be a shield for Amity, if she needed to protect her.

Amity looked down into her hands. “But I lost my magic when I was in her stomach… and I fainted.”

King shook his head. “You probably fainted because you got scared, and, losing your magic inside her pouch makes perfect sense! I mean, what if someone decided to use magic to try to save themself? A demon like Luz is for now could end up killed by their friend, if it didn’t work like that!”

Amity nodded. “Oh…” She looked up at Luz, who was watching her with curious eyes. “Well, I still don’t want you to try to eat me… Maybe eat King instead, he seems like he would like it.” Luz made an amused noise, despite Amity being serious. “I’m going to take a shower… I can borrow your clothes, right?” She was about to say something about her not needing them for now, but that felt rude.

Luz let out another amused noise, before she nodded. She wished she could eat Amity right then, but she said she didn’t want her to, so she wouldn’t. At least for as long as she could keep the urge down and nothing decided to muffle her own decisions and feelings again.

***

If you remember my note about the title being word play, it’s... more literal for Amity’s meaning? She faints because of not breathing deeply enough lol. Though Luz’s mean is less... Literal or how the words “suffocating fear” would normally be used. I’m aware of that, I just think it’s cool, so...

Anyway!

That was all! Probably won’t make a part 2 of this... Unless I feel a spark of inspiration for that all of the sudden.

Now, King is canonically a child/preteen, but I feel like his interest in demons might be a special interest or whatever the allistic term for that would be? I don’t think King... Actually, new headcanon, King is autistic and his special interest is anything about demons.

Point was, I feel like despite him being a child, he could actually be very educated on different species of demon and how they live and function, so I thought it was reasonable to let him be the one explaining most of what was going on.

Him and Eda’s little prank was just me getting bored and thinking it would be fun to add. Hope it was!

And I hope you enjoyed this whole thing too! Thank you very much for reading and please leave a like if you did! You can reblog if you want to but no pressure! :3

Though I do recommend reblogging fics you like (unless you don’t have a vore blog I guess?) it just doesn’t mean much to me! A like is enough for this random blogger! It can be a big motivator for others, but I get my motivation through comments on ao3!

But have an amazing day/night and, again, thank you very much for reading! <3

#safe vore #soft vore #sfw vore #unwilling vore #unwilling prey #extreme cuddling #technically...?#I mean it's literally extreme cuddling because she's eating her to give her a very tight hug #T0H vore #TOH vore

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highfaelucien · 3 years

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Heyy

90. Dance for Rhycien?

Please send me whump Prompts

(Heck yes, it's time for The Gay. Have some Under the Mountain Angst. Slight warning for mind control/influence (Rhys to Lucien) It's short-lived, demanded by Amarantha, and doesn't last long)

Old Time's Sake

"Ah, Lucien, nice of you to finally join us," Amarantha drawled from her place upon the carved throne, sitting above the writhing fae bodies, watching with that grim pleasure Rhys had come to loathe so intensely.

Turning, he spotted Lucien, long red hair gleaming in the dancing faelight, barely concealed loathing etched in every line of his angular face.

The exiled Autumn prince hadn't been seen for several days now. Not since the brutal whipping at Tamlin's hand that had left him unconscious and, if rumours were to be believed, near death.

From the look of spite in Lucien's remaining eye, it seemed he had spat in death's face for the simple pleasure of being able to glare at Amarantha once more.

"You're looking a little grim there, princeling," Amarantha crooned, "Why don't you join your little human friend? Dance with her."

She gestured towards Feyre, who had drunk the wine Rhys had provided her and accompanied him to the dance as he did each night. Her body moved with surprising grace, considering she was human.

A muscle feathered in Lucien's jaw as he watched Feyre. He turned that simmering hatred on Rhys instead, fire blazing in that russet eye. Rhys just smirked at him and winked. Lucien's hands balled themselves into fists at his sides.

It was clearly an effort for him to project even a facade of civility as he turned his gaze back to Amarantha and said, "I fear my skills are not equal to those already here. I wouldn't like to offend you with my display, lady."

Amarantha tapped one sharpened nail on the arm of her throne. Few caught the suppressed flinch in Lucien's body at the sight of it, but Rhys saw, and looked away, disgusted.

"You will offend me deeply if you refuse me again, Lucien," she said, voice soft and dangerous now.

"I'm sure we both know how much I'd hate to do that," Lucien growled, and Rhys found himself closing his eyes.

Lucien never had learned to keep his mouth shut. There seemed to be some self-destructive part of him that enjoyed snapping at those who could snap him in half with a wink.

Silence enveloped the hall for a few, pounding heartbeats. Then Amarantha turned her head sharply, all the false air of a pleasant queen amongst her court banished.

"Rhysand," she said, darkly, "Make him dance for me."

"It would of course be my pleasure," Rhys said smoothly, nudging Feyre to one side and rising from the plump cushions he'd been reclining on, keeping an eye on her as she reveled blindly.

Lucien turned to him, his jaw set, his eyes hard. There was no fear in those eyes. Many here underestimated Lucien, as he didn't possess the same power as his father or brothers. Rhys thought they were fools. It took an extraordinary level of strength and courage to face him that way. Not to mention his return here in the first place.

"Little Lucien," he clucked, aloud, shaking his head, "You know it's not polite to refuse a lady."

Inside his head, he murmured, I'm sorry.

Lucien's eyes flashed, almost giving him away with his moment of confusion. Then Rhys swept away his will, and forced him to perform for Amarantha. Just as he was forced to perform for her.

At once, Lucien's face contorted with pain. He shouldn't have come here tonight. Tamlin had no doubt ordered him, the cowardly bastard, unwilling to come himself to see Feyre. Lucien's magic had been suppressed, and he had been denied any kind of healer. His body had been forced to heal at the rate of a human.

It didn’t take long for the wounds to re-open, blood staining the handsome tunic Lucien wore.

Amarantha underestimated Lucien, too. Rhys could sense he would refuse to give out until this killed him, just to spite the bitch. But she wouldn’t know that. Once Lucien was breathing heavily, and finally cracked to let out a whimper of pain, Rhys enveloped his mind in darkness and allowed him to slump to the floor, unconscious.

“Pathetic,” Amarantha hissed, as Lucien’s brothers, clustered around her throne as usual, sniggered and jeered their approval.

She waved a dismissive hand at Rhys, “Get him out of my sight,” she commanded, already bored, turning away to watch Feyre with amusement.

“At once, lady,” Rhys said.

Snapping his fingers, he lifted Lucien’s limp form into the air then carried him down to the cells, where he would return Feyre to in a few hours.

Setting him down far more gently than he would have dared to under Amarantha’s watchful gaze, Rhys gazed down at the fae male he had almost let himself love, once upon a time.

His fingers traced the scar over his eye with sadness. Then gently unbuttoned the blood-stained, ruined tunic, and examined the mess of his back. Torn, raw flesh, weeping fresh blood once more after Amarantha’s forced dancing.

It would have been worse if you hadn’t put a stop to it when you did, he tried to tell himself. Anger flared as another thought crept into his mind, And it would have been a lot better if Tamlin hadn’t sent him to that fucking party.

The High Lord of Spring had to know how much Amarantha enjoyed using Lucien as her plaything. Torturing him was becoming something she enjoyed almost as much as she enjoyed torturing him.

Sighing, Rhys reached out a hand, magic flaring, but-

Slim, hot fingers wrapped around his wrist, surprising him, which was impressive in itself.

Lucien, remarkably, had fought his way back to consciousness.

Stupid, stubborn bastard, Rhys thought, with fondness.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Lucien demanded, spitting blood from a bitten tongue out of his mouth at Rhys’s knees.

“That’s really no way to speak to a High Lord of Prythian, Lucien,” Rhys said, tutting, “I see you haven’t improved your manners since last we met.”

“I see you haven’t stopped being a prick, either,” Lucien shot back, weakly.

“I’m overwhelmed by your wit,” Rhys said sardonically.

“Fuck off and let me bleed, Rhys,” Lucien muttered thickly, body starting to tremble with the pain.

“Is that what Tamlin would do?” Rhys asked, unable to stop himself picking at that old wound between them.

A muscle feathered in Lucien’s jaw, but for once he restrained himself from answering. Perhaps Amarantha’s eye gouging had changed him, after all.

“No,” Rhys continued, folding his arms across his chest, “No, Tamlin doesn’t even know your bleeding out down here for his foolish command. Or, more appropriately, he doesn’t care.”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Lucien snapped, some of that fire flaring in his remaining eye again.

Rhys still wasn’t used to the mechanical one. He’d spent a long time, previously, getting lost in that blazing gaze before. It wasn’t the same now.

Rhys tutted idly, rocking back on his heels, peering down at Lucien, “He doesn’t deserve your loyalty, you know.”

“And you do?” Lucien shot back, an awful disdain twisting his face.

Rhys’s jaw tightened, “I didn’t say that,” he said, smoothly.

Lucien laughed bitterly, even though it made him convulse with pain, “You meant it, though.”

He rolled onto his side, snarling with pain as he did, so that he could look Rhys full in the face as he spoke. Lucien had always been far too skilled at reading him, and he looked away, unable to bear that burning gaze.

“He didn’t deserve the sacrifice you made to stay with him,” Rhys breathed.

“Sacrifice?” Lucien repeated, “You mean you?” He laughed, the sound raw and humourless, echoing in the cavernous cell around them. It degenerated to coughing before long. “I owed him. I still do. He saved my life. He took me in after Jes. I pledged my fealty to him. You thought I’d turn away from that for your fucking dick?”

Rhys met his furious gaze once more as he said, softly, “I thought you might have turned away from it for the chance at happiness.” He rose to his feet, staring down at Lucien, something tightening within him, “But you could never let yourself have that, could you? It’s always been your most fatal flaw, Lucien. You don’t know how to let yourself be happy.”

“And you do?”he shot back.

“I could have learned,” Rhys said, very quietly, and he knew Lucien felt the sincerity in it, “For you.”

That actually shut Lucien up, for once. The only times he’d managed to achieve that before had been with decidedly more creative applications of his tongue.

“Don’t return to the party tonight,” he said, “I’ll be back here in a few hours with Feyre, and you can visit her yourself. Lie there and try not to drown in your own blood until then, won’t you?”

He turned, cloak covering Lucien in black for a moment, before pulling away, leaving him trembling on the cold stone floor.

Despite the anger that pulsed in his chest, he couldn’t leave him like that. He waved an idle finger, and Lucien’s wounds sealed themselves. Not fully. Not enough to leave Amarantha suspicious, but enough to ease his agony for now.

Lucien blinked and sat up as Rhys turned away again.

“What will she do to you if she learns of this?” he asked, very quietly.

Rhys forced himself to smile, “I doubt she’ll think of anything new. She’s not particularly creative, you know.”

“It’s still a risk,” Lucien said, gazing at him with suspicion, as if he expected some bargain, some demand for recompense.

Rhys shrugged in response, “Perhaps I think it’s worth it.”

“Why the fuck would you think that?” Lucien asked, sounding genuinely, heartbreakingly, bemused.

“Maybe I think you’re worth it,” Rhys said, more softly still.

Lucien eyed him for a long moment, pregnant with heavy silence, words they’d never spoken to one another echoing up through the lonely decades they’d spent apart.

“I’ll never understand you, Rhys,” he muttered finally, shaking his head.

“Isn’t that part of my enigmatic mystique and irresistible air?” he replied slyly.

Lucien smirked at that, “Enigmatic ego and insufferable ass, more like.”

“You found my ass quite sufferable, if memory serves,” Rhys smirked.

Lucien grinned. For a moment they weren’t trapped in this foul pit of a place. They were on the borders of Spring, Lucien’s mouth hot and insistent against his, fingers roaming beneath dark Illyrian leathers with surprising knowledge of buckle placement.

“Thank you,” Lucien said, a little too stiffly.

“I do believe that might have caused you more pain than the whipping,” Rhys quipped.

“It certainly is now, with you gloating in my face,” Lucien scowled in response.

“Take care, Little Lucien,” Rhys said, waving an idle hand back towards him as he moved to the door of the cell.

“And you, Rhys,” Lucien said, very quietly.

There was such emotion in that deep russet eye of his, that Rhys forced himself to winnow back to the party, before he did something incredibly stupid. Like kissing him.

***

Thanks for the prompt!! I hope you liked it!

#rhycien #rhysand #lucien vanserra #ratabrasileira #rhycien fic #acotar series #fic prompt fill #my fic #rhycien is the BEST #acotar #ask game answers #fun fact: i'm fucking incapable of writing anything 'drabble' length lol

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sophiamcdougall · 4 years

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EXPLAINING SANREMO

(PART 1) Last week I was swept away, helpless, by the avalanche that is the Sanremo Song Festival and I am still recovering. For your safety, I’ve tried to keep the insanity contained on my Italian side blog. But I want to try to offer you a rough summary of what I’ve learned. Sanremo inspired the Eurovision Song Contest. Over five nights, 24 acts, each with a brand new song, compete at the Ariston theatre in Sanremo for a tacky little golden lion, and the glory of being the year’s Song for Italy. 2020 marked the 70th Sanremo, so depending on who you ask, it’s a venerable national treasure or it’s stale and embarrassing (Many Italians are sick of it. Or say they are, but see below.) It is also an EPIC STRUGGLE between THE FORCES OF GOOD AND EVIL FOR THE SOUL OF HUMANITY Let’s meet some of the protagonists:

AKA: host Amadeus, entertainer and comedian Rosario Fiorello, il Bel Paese, and competitor Achille Lauro.

Amadeus got things off to a bad start before the show even began by praising his various female co-hosts - all seasoned TV professionals - for their beauty and their ability to stay “a step behind a man.” Outrage ensues, Amadeus claims he did not mean it like that, but keep this in mind for later. Also competing are Morgan (below, left) and Bugo (below, right.), who are performing a duet.

Going in, the one thing I know about Morgan is that on more than one occasion, he trashtalked my beloved and blameless Fabrizio Moro. So I hate him and want him to suffer. And apparently he has quite the reputation for throwing tantrums, picking on fellow-artists and sabotaging events he’s part of. But hey. He’s supposedly talented and Bugo clearly thinks he deserves another chance. And we’re off!

Irene Grandi kicks things off with “Finalmente Io” (“Finally Me”). But I’m starting with her not so much because she’s the first to sing as because I don’t think the song’s got enough attention -- either for the fact that it bangs or for what it represents in the drama that’s about to unfold.

Finalmente Io is what, in the business, we call foreshadowing.

There’s a magical thing that happens to women with when they turn 40. The develop Not-Giving-A-Fuck superpowers. The song is basically about that. It’s about freedom, and self-acceptance, and being 100% done with male bullshit. (It's also a bit of an ADHD anthem but let’s leave that aside for now.) “I’ve lost all my patience, and all my fragility,” she sings.

And, “If you want sex, let’s do it now. Heeeeeeere.”

Irene is the portent everyone misses, a harbinger of what is to come.

Think of her as John the Baptist. Onwards. So the first thing one discovers about the Sanremo Festival is that just because we have to get through 24 “big” acts AND 6 (?) new/junior artists, and they all have to perform multiple times, that doesn’t mean there’s any RUSH. Guest singers wander on and perform a song or ten. There’s comedy. We can stop everything to talk about football. A lady comes on and talks for a million years about how her granny taught her that True Beauty is Found Within. There are also speeches about important subjects like violence against women. In fact, we are going to talk about that a lot, but also a bunch of competent and experienced female TV personalities are stuck taking turns at playing Amadeus’s Glamorous Assistant of the evening and he can’t shut up about how beautiful they all are while they cringe and lean subtly away from him. So it’s ... slow, and awkward, but within its own cheesy terms, things are normal. Too normal. Enter Achille Lauro.

Softly, almost whispering, he begins to sing a song called “Me ne frego” (”I don’t care” - but with an edge of “fuck you”). This is both an everyday Italian expression and a fascist motto. Well, it was till now.

A nation is convulsed. Right-wing Italian boomers are screaming because YOU! CAN’T! DO! THAT! AT! SANREMO! THERE! ARE! CHILDREN! WATCHING! Italian Tumblr, which like the rest of Tumblr is feral, thirsty and gay, is screaming for different reasons entirely.

Achille, you scandalous creature, what have you done? What have you got to say for yourself?

Something strange and magical has released and it cannot be contained. On with the songs. Good songs, bad songs, blah songs. I like “Tikibombom” by Levante - a love letter to weirdos and rebels, “Rosso di Rabbia” (Rage Red) by Anastasio about being, well, angry but scared you can’t do anything useful with it, and “Eden” by Rancore, about... the nature of sin?? touching on everything from September 11 to the mafia to Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. However, this contest is being judged (mostly - it’s complicated) by an industry jury of FOOLS, COWARDS, and TRAITORS who KNOW NOT WHAT THEY DO, so virtually all of the above artists are so far languishing towards the bottom of the provisional rankings. Achille ends up in 17th place and Rancore at 22.

Truly, the light hath shone in the darkness and the darkness knoweth it not.

LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE TO RANCORE.

Rapper down, repeat RAPPER DOWN. SEND HELP.

However, for people who went in implacably biased against Morgan, it’s not all bad news. "Sincero” (Sincere) by Morgan and Bugo is in last place. Whether this is anything to do with the song or because Morgan is a nightmare of a person who has systematically alienated everyone in the Italian music industry except the trusting Bugo ... we can but ponder. Sanremo grinds on. Days blur into each other and I’m not even going to try to cover events in exact order. Sanremo knows no order. Sanremo is like the universe, linear time is a construct that doesn’t really exist, and chaos happens very, very slowly. But meanwhile, somewhere on the astral plane:

At least that is what I deduce must have happened.

The competitors and guests look deep within themselves. Do they have what it takes? Are they ready to answer the call?

Let’s see! It’s Covers Night! Which is also Duets Night!

That’s Elettra Lamborghini (yes, that Lamborghini) and Myss Keta.

Are they in tune? No. Does it matter? ALSO NO.

Meanwhile ... something strange is brewing between Amadeus and Fiorello...

But wait, PLOT TWIST.

Enter Roberto Benigni.

The beloved actor and director is the latest avatar of the Dionysian frenzy that has chosen Sanremo 2020 for the place of its birth. He is the One who will unite the electric queer mayhem and the impossible grinding tedium of Sanremo. In him, the two strains will fuse and become unstoppable. He is going to talk about sex for twenty-six minutes

He reads from the Song of Songs, which ... I knew it was sexy, and all, but is it really like that? Do you ever think about NAKED BODIES? Roberto does. Do you believe in PHYSICAL LOVE? Roberto wishes you would. Anyway, just think of all the sex we could all be having, literally right now, right heeeeere, whether we are “a woman, and her man. Or a man and his man. Or a woman, and her woman!” He is awful. He is magnificent. He is excruciating. He is spellbinding. We are hanging on his every word and we are considering chewing our own arms off to escape. He proposes an orgy in the orchestra pit.

Hand on heart, all of that happened. Italian Tumblr, bear witness.

And what of Achille Lauro? He unleashed this madness upon us all, is he just going to sit back and let everyone else do all the work? Of course not. Achille Lauro came to bring not peace, but a sword, to the world of toxic masculinity and gender in general and his work is not yet done.

”I too was once a little girl,” Achille sings.

Dressed as Bowie-as-Ziggy, Achille duets with Annalisa on “Gli Uomini Non Cambiano” - “Men Don’t Change”. It’s a heartbreaking song by Mia Martini from 1992 about male abuse of women, and not a single word, or a single pronoun has been changed.

However, although he’s the one in the competition, and the one dressed to dazzle, he leaves Annalisa the spotlight. It’s like she’s the tortured protagonist of the song and he’s a voice in her head, a sympathetic spirit who can’t swoop in to rescue her but can quietly affirm that she deserves better than the the hellish treatment she’s singing about. in fact, he pointedly stays a step behind her at all times. And she’s majestic.

Of course, he’s not fucking DONE

He’s still got to sing “Me Ne Frego” again. Can he top the cape-drop? You be the judge.

So Italian Tumblr, is now writhing on the carpet, making a sound only bats can hear, and shitposting itself into delirium, but has it all been ENOUGH?

NO.

Poor Rancore has died again. Toxic masculinity still exists. Amadeus is still pretty gross. Everyone is going to have to GAY HARDER. CAN THEY DO IT? This post is, like Sanremo itself, getting insanely long, so ... STAY TUNED FOR PART TWO, in which Fiorello’s true nature as a chaos being is revealed, Amadeus faces his Calvary, and the gun on the stage goes off. ----- UPDATE: Part 2 is here

#Sanremo #Sanremo 2020 #Explaining Sanremo #Achille Lauro #Explaining Sanremo Part 1

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literatureandmonsters · 3 years

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Monsters and Self-Acceptance in YA Lit: The Dream Thieves

The word monster “derives from the Latin monstrum, which is related to the verbs monstrare (‘show’ or ‘reveal’) and monere (‘warn’ or ‘portend’) [1].” Monsters have been a staple of our stories for hundreds of years. What do monsters, specifically in stories for young adults, warn us against?

The Dream Thieves, a 2012 YA novel by Maggie Stiefvater, explores how monsters in literature can meaningfully characterize self-loathing and illuminates the path to overcoming it. The Dream Thieves is the second novel in a young adult fantasy series that follows a group of friends on their quest to find and obtain a wish from a mythical king said to be sleeping in the hills of western Virginia. In the second book, the friends learn that one of them, Ronan, has the ability to take things from his dreams; however, Ronan has little control over this ability and frequently brings monsters out of his nightmares. These monsters, I will argue, represent Ronan’s self-hatred and the journey he takes to tame these monsters is a meaningful tale of self-acceptance.

In the first scene involving these monsters, we see one of Ronan’s dreams quickly turn into a nightmare. "Ronan could hear the night horrors coming, in love with his blood and his sadness. Their wings flapped in time with his heartbeat... Ronan was afraid of [them] in a ... permanent way that came from being killed by them again and again in his head.” When he accidentally brings two of the monsters out of his nightmare, he has to explain to his friends that “they come when I’m having a nightmare... They hate me. In the dreams, they’re called night horrors.’” Since the night horrors Ronan dreams of loath him, when he brings these monsters out of his dreams, he is essentially creating a physical manifestation of the hatred he feels towards himself.

We do not immediately learn why Ronan is filled with so much resentment towards himself. The prologue, however, reveals that “Ronan Lynch lived with every sort of secret.” His first is that he has the ability to take things from his dreams, but we also learn that he has a “harder kind of secret. One you keep from yourself.” Both secrets are intertwined with Ronan’s monstrosity and his self-hatred.

The first secret about his magical ability makes Ronan view himself as a monster:

“It was not the easiest thing to take only one thing from a dream… To bring any of the things from his nightmares — no one but Ronan knew the terrors that lived in his mind. Plagues and devils, conquerors and beasts. Ronan had no secret more dangerous than this… He remembered what Gansey had said: You incredible creature! Creature was a good word for him, Ronan thought. What the hell am I?”

He remembers the words his closest friend told him when Ronan showed him something he dreamed for the first time: “You incredible creature!” Later, in church, “Ronan closed his eyes to be blessed” and silently prays, “please God what am I tell me what I am." Ronan’s strange ability allows him to take monsters from his nightmares, but it also causes leads him to view himself as a monster or creature. This ability also makes him constantly wonder what exactly he is. Later in the novel, a character looks at Ronan and plainly says “I know what you are.”

This character is Joseph Kavinsky, a classmate of Ronan and his friends and an antagonistic force in their lives. At the beginning of the book, Kavinsky, as he is called, is mainly known for his wild parties and fast cars, and frequently street-races Ronan. After one of these races, the night horror that escaped from Ronan’s dreams in the first scene attacks him. Kavinsky drives up and shoots the night horror dead. As they are driving away from the scene, Kavinsky tells Ronan, “I know what you are,” and subsequently reveals that he, too, can take things out of his dreams, that the very car they are riding away in was dreamed up by him. Suddenly, Ronan is not alone. He still does not have a word for what he is, the “creature” that he is still does not have a name, but Ronan is no longer the only one. In fact, one of the first questions Ronan asks Kavinsky is “are there others?” However, Kavinsky just replies, “hell if I know.” Despite his strong dislike of Kavinsky, Ronan is relieved. He is also disturbed that his secret – something only his friends know – is out. “Ronan’s heart twitched convulsively. It couldn’t seem to get used to this secret being the opposite of one.” But as we know from the prologue, this secret is Ronan’s only secret.

We do not learn for sure what this concealed secret is until almost the end of the novel. After Kavinsky teaches Ronan how to take things from his dreams more deliberately, Ronan goes back to his friends. In a tense exchange as Ronan is leaving, Kavinsky says, “you don’t fucking need him” meaning Ronan’s best friend, Gansey. To this, Ronan responds “Wait. You thought- it was never gonna be you and me. Is that what you thought?” This interaction marks the end of friendly relations between the two dreamers and leads us closer to discovering Ronan’s second secret.

During the climax of the book, Ronan and Kavinsky meet in the dreamspace where they both take things from. Ronan asks Kavinsky “What’s here, K? Nothing! No one!” to which Kavinsky replies “Just us.” Ronan contemplates Kavinsky’s response: “There was a heavy understanding in that statement, amplified by the dream. I know what you are, Kavinsky had said.” This contemplation leads to the Ronan admitting his second secret:

‘That’s not enough,’ Ronan replied.

‘Don’t say Gansey, man. Do not say it. He is never going to be with you. And don’t tell me you don’t swing that way, man. I’m in your head.’

‘That’s not what Gansey is to me,’ Ronan said.

‘You didn’t say you don’t swing that way.’

Ronan was silent. Thunder growled under his feet. ‘No, I didn’t.’”

Up until this point, Ronan has not said aloud - or even thought about - the second secret mentioned in the prologue, but in this climactic scene of the novel, Ronan replies with, “no, I didn’t.” We now see that the secret Ronan kept from himself is about his sexuality. This revelation sheds light on why Ronan’s mind was filled with monsters that hated him, and casts light on another reason why he also viewed himself as a monster.

The author, Maggie Stiefvater, has said that the most important part of writing her stories is “getting into the reader’s head and moving the emotional furniture around.” As book reviewer Lee Mandelo notes, in regards to Ronan’s “sexuality, his secrets from others and himself, his attraction to Adam and Kavinsky in equal and terrifying measures” Stiefvater is “‘moving the emotional furniture around’ while the reader isn’t looking.” While we haven’t seen Ronan contemplating his sexuality in any part of the book, we realize that the parts we have seen (Ronan’s shame, self-hatred, and fear of his secrets being revealed) all tie into his sexuality as well. Ronan remembers Kavinsky’s earlier statement, “I know what you are,” but where before it meant that Kavinsky knew Ronan was a dreamer, here it means he knows he is gay. Stiefvater continues this emotional work after we realize the reason for Ronan’s self-loathing.

After Ronan’s “no, I didn’t,” Kavinsky, spurned by Ronan, takes a monster of his own from the dreamspace. Ronan knows that the monster, now in reality, poses a great threat to his friends in the waking world. Ronan needs to dream up something to combat Kavinsky’s monster; Then a night horror appears. Since these monsters “never want anyone else,” Ronan laments, “this won’t save anyone.” A friend in the dreamspace tells Ronan, “‘It’s only you. Why do you hate you?’” The statement “it’s only you” cements the supposition that Ronan’s night horrors are an extension of himself, particularly the part of himself that loathes what he is (both a dreamer, and gay, as we now know). However, Ronan considers what his friend says and in response to “why do you hate you?” concludes, “I don’t.” When Ronan wakes up he brings the night horror with him, but this time the monster does not set out to kill him. It saves his friends from Kavinsky’s monster. “The fire dragon pitched towards Gansey and Blue. Ronan didn’t have to shout to his night horror. It knew what Ronan wanted. It wanted exactly what Ronan wanted. Save them.” The night horror had always “wanted exactly what Ronan wanted,” but it is only after Ronan realizes that he does not hate himself anymore, that the night horrors do not wish him harm.

The other dreamer, Kavinsky, does not get the self-acceptance arc that Ronan does. Ronan’s journey of self-acceptance quite literally saves his life when he tames the dream monsters that represented his self-hatred. The opposite happens with Kavinsky. Kavinsky shares both parts of Ronan’s identity that gave him so much shame and self-hatred: a gay teenage boy, who is also a dreamer. Kavinsky does not have a “I don’t” moment regarding his self-hatred, and while Ronan’s monster learn to obey him, Kavinsky’s monster (and perhaps his self-hatred) destroys him. As the two dream monsters combat, Ronan notices that Kavinsky is standing purposefully in the path of destruction. Ronan shouts to Kavinsky to get down, but “Kavinsky didn’t look away from the two creatures. He said, ‘The world’s a nightmare.’ A second later, the fire dragon exploded into him. It went straight through him, around him, flame around an object. Kavinsky fell. He crumpled to his knees and then slumped gracelessly off the car.” Ronan remarks that “Kavinsky was dead. But he had been dying since Ronan met him. They both had been.” Both characters started off in the same place: depressed, amazed yet terrified at their ability to bring things from their dreams, coping with alcohol and street racing, mired in self-hatred and internalized homophobia, but only one of the characters makes it out.

The opposite endings Ronan and Kavinsky receive show the dangers of not accepting yourself and warn us of the self-hatred that often comes with having a marginalized identity. This story is steeped in a magic: there’s dreamworlds and kings and nightmare monsters, but it is a story completely applicable to real life. Ronan also starts off wondering “what am I?” and worrying that the answer is a “creature.” This parallels how certain identities can make one a monster in the eyes of society. Thankfully, Ronan realizes that he is not a monster for either secret or for either piece of his identity.

When I read The Dream Thieves for the first time years ago, I was somewhere between my own “no, I didn’t” realization, but before my “I don’t” moment. I was so moved by Ronan’s story. After watching Ronan progress through The Dream Thieves, burdened by the secrets he will not admit and terrorized by the monsters of his own creation, we can rejoice when he tames his monsters, accepts himself, and realizes he does not deserve his hatred. I can only hope that young readers will look at how undeserving Ronan is of his self-loathing and how he unlearns it, and undertake that same journey themselves.

This story lays a roadmap for young readers to forgo the self-loathing they may feel at certain aspects of themselves. Reader can to find love and adoration for characters who have yet to find love for themselves, and in watching these characters find ways to accept shunned and monstrous parts of themselves, they can be encouraged to embark on their own journeys of banishing self-hared.

Perhaps this is why there are so many memorable stories of monsters being transformed by love and self-acceptance, such as the recent The Shape of Water and the enduring Beauty and the Beast. Regarding this last story, psychologist John Gressel P.h.D., says the story encourages us to “find the beauty in the beasts in our lives.” He tells readers to

“Think of some part of you or your life that you don't like, can't accept, wish were otherwise… some aspect of yourself or your circumstances that has you feeling trapped, that you hate, that you want to go away or to escape from. According to this tale… you must learn to love this very thing you currently hate... Until you do, you are trapped in this prison cell of not accepting yourself or your life as it is. It is only through this kind of self acceptance, genuine and complete, that… we can unite with this previously unacceptable feature of our lives and live happily ever after. This is when that which we despise is transformed into something beautiful.”

In Beauty and the Beast, the Beast is literally transformed by earning Belle’s true love. As Gressel points out, Beauty and the Beast – and I would argue Twilight and The Dream Thieves –encourage the reader to “learn to love [the] very thing you currently hate.” Monster stories geared towards young people, whether in classics from the 1800s or in modern Young Adult novels, are a great opportunity to warn young readers of the dangers of self-hatred and the power of loving and accepting yourself.

In The Dream Thieves, Ronan’s self-hatred is literally a threat against his life. His dreams are filled with monsters that hate him as much as he hates himself, and he has to contend with these monsters when he brings them into his waking life. After accepting his sexuality, his monsters – and his self-hatred – are transformed similarly to how Gressel describes the meaning of monster stories happening when something “we despise is transformed into something beautiful.”

#the dream thieves #monsters #monster theory #literature #the raven cycle #ronan lynch #beauty and the beast

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gameofdrarry · 3 years

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Wizards Hearts Recs: Kid!Fic

Wizards Hearts was a four-month-long Drarry reading fest. Players were given a playing deck of 52 tropes, and were asked to find 52 different fics to read and comment on to fill their decks. To prevent the same few fics from being read, fics were restricted to only being used for the game three times before being considered ineligible for further points. The tropes and submissions list can be found here.

Check out the masterlist of fics for this trope below the cut!

📜 On Your Shore by xanthippe74 Rated: Mature Words: 35113 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Hogwarts, Mystery, Scotland, Dark Magic, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Pining, Sharing a Bed, First Time, Non-Explicit Sex, Demisexual Harry Potter, Bisexual Harry Potter, Gay Draco Malfoy, Closeted Draco Malfoy, Curse Breaker Harry Potter, Antiques Appraiser Draco Malfoy, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Good Parent Draco Malfoy, Past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Married Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, H/D Sex Fair 2020 Summary: Clearing out a remote house full of cursed collectibles in the Outer Hebrides? Not a problem for an experienced curse breaker like Harry Potter. Spending a week with the straight, happily-married man that he’s starting to have feelings for? And sharing a bed with him at night? Surely Harry can handle that, too. But both the house and Draco Malfoy have secrets to uncover, and Harry might be in deeper water than he thought. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Every Breath You Take by hephaestiions Rated: Mature Words: 19252 Tags: Major Character Death, Death (Harry Potter), Suicide, Child Death, Miscommunication, Angst, Angst and Tragedy Summary: It starts and ends with Death. Scorpius was just caught in between. Like always. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Misunderstandings are as easy as A-B-C by VeelaWings Rated: Teen and Up Words: 3418 Tags: First Day of School, Kindergarten Teacher Harry Potter, Professor Harry Potter, Single Parent Draco Malfoy, Parenting Woes, mild anxiety, Miscommunication, HP Fluff Fest 2020 Summary: A slow blink and Potter seemed to catch himself, clearing his throat and nodding, his smile friendly and bright when directed at Scorpius and Draco. “Hey Mal—” “Mr Potter,” Draco spoke up rudely, but necessary. “This is my son, Scorpius Black. He’ll be one of your students this year.” Potter looked completely wrongfooted for a few seconds before his mind appeared to latch onto the most likely conclusion. His expression cleared up as Scorpius took a step forward and offered a tiny hand. “Hello, Mr Potter. It’s nice to meet you,” Scorpius said, enunciation steady and practiced. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Teddy's Favourite by iRavenish Rated: Teen and Up Words: 2032 Tags: Fluff, Secret Relationship, Relationship Reveal, Day At The Beach, Jealous Harry Potter Summary: It didn't come as a surprise when Teddy demanded to finally go to the beach. In fact, he was asking for a trip to the seaside for a while now and even though Harry wasn't really keen on going, he was powerless when it came to his godson, and just couldn't say no when confronted with the pleading eyes of a sad five-year-old. There was only one little problem with the whole trip. Teddy insisted on inviting his favourite cousin, the one he reconnected with in the last year and the same one that quickly earned Teddy's trust and love, becoming his favourite person. Said cousin was of course none other than Draco Malfoy. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 The Way Home by Boshfaker Rated: Teen and Up Words: 15729 Tags: EWE, Mpreg Summary: Draco wakes up one morning to realize he is a father of 4 and is expecting. After an accident/spell gone wrong from his Auror days, he developed retrograde amnesia. The very last thing Draco remembers is falling down after the hit. That was close to 8 years ago. Healers can't explain what suddenly sparked him to recall his past either. Harry needs to start trying to make Draco remember that the 8 years he can't remember were good times with him and their 4 sons and his expected daughter. This is not at all the sort of life plan Draco had for himself. ❤️ Read on Dreamwidth

📜 Stain of Silence by brummell Rated: Explicit Words: 28356 Tags: Minor Character Death, Crossdressing, Babies, HP: EWE Summary: After the war, Draco serves out his sentence in Harry Potter's house ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 DIY Messiah by scoradh Rated: Mature Words: 26687 Tags: N/A Summary: Harry stopped hating Draco Malfoy on Bring Your Kids to Work Day. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Catch Me If I Fall by keeli_marie Rated: Explicit Words: 38281 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Post-Hogwarts, POV Alternating, Kid Fic, Divorced Harry Potter & Ginny Weasley, Mutual Pining, so much pining, Slow Burnish, Light Angst, Open Marriage, Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content, Hugs, Cuddling & Snuggling, Boys Kissing, Cooking, Potions Master Draco Malfoy, First Dates, Astoria is a good bro, Fluff, Smut, Switching, Fluff and Smut, First Time, Masturbation, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Rimming, First Time Bottoming, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Romantic Gestures, Birthday Presents, Birthday Sex Summary: When Draco Malfoy collides with Harry Potter one morning while dropping the kids off at school, things don’t go quite the way either of them would have expected. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 The Strongest Affinity by eidheann Rated: Teen and Up Words: 17694 Tags: Family, Romance, preslash, wandmaker!Harry, Single Father!Draco Summary: Trouble finding a wand for Scorpius leads Harry and Draco to something they never imagined. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Out of the Woods by Janieohio Rated: Teen and Up Words: 34987 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Hogwarts, POV Alternating, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Background Relationships, supportive friends, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Mind Healer Harry Potter, Shop Owner Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Harry Potter Raises Teddy Lupin, Sassy Harry Potter, Sarcastic Draco Malfoy, Minor Violence, Minor Injuries, Mystery, Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Cute Teddy Lupin, Misunderstandings, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Explicit Language, Yoga, Into the Woods References, Therapy, Custody Issues, Minor Character Death, Minor Character Engagement, Dismissive Attitudes about Mental Illness, Childhood Trauma, Fae & Fairies, Brothers Grimm, Fairy Tale Elements - see notes for more details, H/D Erised 2020, Harry Potter Has Long Hair, Kid Fic, Minor Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Minor Neville Longbottom/Hannah Abbott/Luna Lovegood, Background Polyamory, Past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Past Draco Malfoy/Original Male Characters Summary: Teddy closes his eyes, wishing beyond wishes that the two men in his life whom he loves more than anyone would just learn to get along. A light flares. Teddy cries out, and the room falls silent. Harry and Draco struggle to find a way to escape a world of dark fairy tales and get back to Teddy, but the challenges they face are not all hidden in the woods. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 For The Want Of Five Minutes (And a Locked Door) by postjentacular Rated: Mature Words: 4333 Tags: Kid Fic, Past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter Epilogue Compliant, Domestic Bliss, Parent Harry Potter, Parent Draco Malfoy, Coitus Interruptus, Humor, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, H/D Sex Fair 2020 Summary: It’s hard enough to get five minutes to yourself in a house of five kids, nevermind getting five minutes with your boyfriend for anything else. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 A Big Black Sky by AlexMeg Rated: Mature Words: 90343 Tags: Parent Draco Malfoy, Parent Harry Potter, Abusive Relationships, Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, Homelessness, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, dark themes, The Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter) is Terrible, Happy Ending, Harry Potter Needs a Hug, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, Harry Potter Raises Teddy Lupin, Everyone Needs A Hug, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Slow Burn, Pining Draco Malfoy, But it's very very subtle and repressed, Panic Attacks, Protective Harry Potter, Falling In Love, Smitten Harry Potter, Mutual Pining, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Down and Out Draco Malfoy, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Kid Fic, Post Mpreg, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con Summary: Draco shifts his head as he turns to look at Scorpius, his cheek touching the pillow. "Did you know that…" He pauses, his throat convulsing, and it sounds audible in the silence, besides Michael's steady, even breathing from the other bedroom. Scorpius is staring back at him, in wait of something new to learn, a beautiful and intelligent child. He has Draco's mind. He has Draco's eyes and nose and mouth and hair. He is his. All his. All he has of Michael are his wild curls and the green of his eyes, and sometimes he looks into them and imagines that they aren't Michael's, but someone else's. Draco leans his head closer, biting the quiver out of his lips before he breathes a laden and shuddering exhale, and he whispers, "You are my star in a big black sky." ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 The Guest by BummedOutWriter Rated: Mature Words: 59826 Tags: Kid Fic, Mpreg, Time Travel, Boggarts, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Auror Harry Potter, Quidditch Player Draco Malfoy, Seer Draco Malfoy, Grimmauld Place, Chudley Cannons, Slytherins Being Slytherins, Visions, Potions Accident, Prophecy, Truth Serum, Humor, Animagus, Family, Bottom Draco Malfoy Summary: In consequence of an accidental spell, Harry and Draco's five-year-old daughter is sent ten years into the past, where she meets her teenaged parents. Awkwardness ensues ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Rock-a-bye Sweet Baby James by Femme (femmequixotic), noeon (noe) Rated: Explicit Words: 28402 Tags: Post Mpreg, Kid Fic, Postpartum blues, Secret pregnancy, Pregnant Harry Potter, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Hogwarts, Switching Summary: Harry Potter knew that having a baby by himself would be difficult, but when his son's other father arrives on his doorstep, furious and upset at not being told about Harry's pregnancy, Harry's already messy life becomes a thousand times more complicated. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 No Place Like Home by dracogotgame Rated: General Words: 4005 Tags: Teddy Lupin/Victoire Weasley (mentioned) - Freeform, Family, Fluff, Next Gen, Kid Fic, Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff Summary: James Sirius has been at Hogwarts for exactly one day, and he knows he doesn't belong. All he wants is to go home. A late night Floo call fixes everything ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Mine by xxdrarryrebellexx Rated: Mature Words: 45877 Tags: Domestic Fluff, Family Fluff, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, I LOVE DRARRY OKAY, Domestic, Single Parent Draco Malfoy, Andromeda is kind of a bitch, Little Scorpius is cute AF, Lil Scorp, Ravenclaw Scorpius Malfoy, Professor Harry Potter, Good Draco Malfoy, How Do I Tag, Self-Indulgent, Made For Each Other, Their Family - Freeform Summary: Harry Potter works as Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts, but while picking Teddy up from the Primary Wizard Academy he notices a young crying child and decides to help. Draco Malfoy has had a pretty hard time trying to raise his son since his wife's death. While signing his son up for classes at the Primary Wizard Academy the young boy happens to wander away, luckily the Golden Boy is always there to help. Can they let the past be in the past to forge a better future? "Whose kid is this?" "He's mine, Potter." "No, seriously..." ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 the trembling of the moment by porcelainsalt (bluedreaming) Rated: General Words: 5325 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Non-United Kingdom Setting, Single Parent Draco Malfoy, Asexual Draco Malfoy, Asexual Character, Child Scorpius Malfoy, Inspired by Poetry, H/D Erised 2020, Present Tense, Luna Lovegood & Draco Malfoy Friendship, unusual careers, Quidditch Player Harry Potter Summary: “You’re the last person I’d have expected to stumble across on the other side of the world.” In which Draco's quiet single-parent life is not so much interrupted as unexpectedly harmonised. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 These Tender Moments by theartfulldodger Rated: General Words: 1380 Tags: Christmas Fluff, Fluff, SERIOUSLY ALL THE FLUFF, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Kid Fic, Sickly sweet medicine for all your despair, A warm hug, Domestic Fluff, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE Summary: A Christmas Eve filled with overindulgence, a sleeping toddler, creatively altered expressions and slow dancing in the kitchen. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Made with Love by MysticKitten42 Rated: Teen and Up Words: 1143 Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death - Narcissa, Grief/Mourning, Friends With Benefits, Getting Together, Single Parent Draco Malfoy, Tenderness, Christmas, Christmas Cookies, Hopeful Ending, POV Second Person, POV Draco Malfoy, Early Bird 25 Days of Harry and Draco 2020 Summary: After tragedy strikes, Draco finds support where he least expects it. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Scary Snowman by dracogotgame Rated: General Words: 1030 Tags: Humour, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Family, Oneshot, Old Fic, reposted, Harry Potter Next Generation Summary: Draco steps up. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Cassiopeia Lily Malfoy by GallaPlacidia Rated: Not Rated Words: 37312 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst, Letters, Post Mpreg, Kid Fic, Hurt/Comfort, harry is a dick at the beginning Summary: In eighth year, Harry had a toxic fling with Draco Malfoy. Ten years later, a little girl shows up, begging for Harry's help. Could the two be connected? And did Harry misunderstand what Draco was trying to tell him, the last time they spoke? Feat. angry 8th year Harry being truly horrible to Draco, Draco writing a lot of letters he never sends Harry, and the most Gryffindor-Slytherin hybrid ten-year-old you've ever seen. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 To Love and To Cherish by jamesilver Rated: Mature Words: 1091 Tags: Married Couple, Married Life, Quidditch, Fatherhood, Parenthood, Domestic Fluff, Domestic, domestic married couple, Children, Cute Kids, Kid Fic, Flirting Summary: Or, Harry and Draco are married with children and a lot of heavy, married flirting ❤️ Read on AO3

#kid fic #drarry #drarry rec #game of drarry #wizards hearts #wh masterlist

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connorandersons-blog · 3 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Connor/Gavin Reed Characters: Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Gavin Reed, Jeffrey Fowler, Hank Anderson, Gavin Reed's Cat, Doa Gavin Reed's Cat Additional Tags: Injury, Stitches, Injury Recovery, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Enemies to Lovers, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Has a Vagina, Trans Character, Trans Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Gavin Reed Needs a Hug, Gay Disaster Gavin Reed, Masturbation, Cunnilingus, Blow Jobs, 69 (Sex Position), Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human) Summary:

Gavin Reed wasn't one to throw himself into danger unnecessary. That's actually a lie but don't tell him you know that. Its still a shock when he throws himself in front of danger for Connor, the android he supposedly hates with a passion.

-----------------------------------

"What?! Why me!" He looked out at the precinct, surely someone more qualified would be better for this job. Taking care of Reed, the resident asshole, who got shot and then stabbed? That wasn't Connor's job even if he felt guilty as hell.

Fowler surely would have groaned in annoyance if it was acceptable, instead, the vein in his head seemed to grow larger to the point Connor was honestly worried. That man needed a vacation badly, maybe he should just go along with this terrible idea. "You were there when he got fucking injured and he needs to rest. The last time he got hurt he tried to come back the moment he could drag himself out of bed."

Connor could see that Reed was stubborn to a fault and incredibly dedicated to his work. Not that he admired that stupid human. Nope.

He still should have been able to protect Reed, he should be the one with the bullet yet… yet Gavin had pushed him out of the way and then took the knife wound as well. Why he did that Connor wasn't sure, but Reed had made him promise not to let anyone know what really happened. So Connor had simply said he outran Gavin and couldn't get back to him on time when the killer pulled a knife.

"Alright, I need his address." He could see the surprise on Fowler's face when he gave in so easily, but he still rattled off Reed's address. Connor nodded, filing it away before waiting to be dismissed.

"Let Hank know, but you're free to go for the rest of the week. You haven't taken a single day off and I'm tired of seeing your face." Fowler waved him off and Connor nodded.

He'd still have Hank send him the files, he couldn't take a full week off. He just couldn't sit around and do nothing. Maybe Markus would have something for him to do too, he doubted Reed would even let him check in on him.

He stopped by his desk, grabbing his jacket and informing Hank of his fate. He let out a long huff when Hank burst into laughter, and he flipped him the bird before leaving. Some help he was.

He went by his place first, changing to more casual clothes that consisted of a forest green-tipped pique polo shirt, and a pair of distressed skinny jeans. He didn't have a pet to say hello and goodbye to, so he went straight to Reed's place, taking a cab.

For some reason, he imagined Reed living in a shitty apartment, but instead, he found an adorable-looking Tudor-Style house. It had the normal features of one: steeply pitched roof, prominent cross gables, decorative half-timbering, and tall, narrow windows with small window panes. It was a small two-story, but from what he could tell it had a large backyard, and the front yard was nothing to scoff at either.

He came up the walkway but stalled when he got to the door. He didn't want Reed to get up given his injuries, but he couldn't walk in unannounced. So he knocked on the door listening for any movement. "Detective Reed, it's Connor. I've been sent to help in your recovery."

There was some shuffling and perhaps the sound of a cat meowing. "Fuck off Tincan!" Reed yelled before it went silent again.

"I'm afraid I cannot do that. I must make sure you become fully recovered, and you getting up prematurely will hinder that." Why did he even have to be this stubborn? It wasn't like Connor would judge him, he had no right to given that it was his fault.

"I said, FUCK. OFF." Reed screamed before starting to let out a terrible hacking cough.

Connor only paused for a second longer before opening the door, a bit shocked that it was unlocked. He didn't focus on interior design, just on the figure laying on the couch convulsing slightly.

He dropped into a crouch, scanning over Reed and grimacing at the sight. "Fucking hell Reed, you pulled your stitches." He wanted to swat at him, to tell him how he should be more careful but that would have to wait.

He ignored Reed's squawks of protest as he lifted his shirt to expose the bloody gauze wrapped around him. "A bed would be better, and where is your first aid? I may need to restitch this." He hadn't moved the gauze yet, especially if he planned on moving Reed.

"Fuck you, bedroom is upstairs and the first aid-" Gavin let out another cough, wincing when it pulled at his injuries, "-first aid is in the bathroom joining it."

Connor nodded, only now seeing the very adorable cat that blinked at him with curious eyes. "I apologize in advance as this will hurt." He mumbled, putting an arm under Gavin's knees and the back.

"Hey, hey, Tincan wait!" Gavin hissed as he was lifted up, Connor ignoring his protests again. "Fuck! Connor." His name came out like a whine as he made his way over to the staircase.

The cat followed along behind, keeping pace but making sure not to trip Connor up.

There were only two rooms upstairs, the bathroom and bedroom, and the bedroom was completely open, with no door to close it off from the stairs.

The Abner upholstered sleigh bed looked soft enough so he placed Gavin on it carefully. The cat jumped up and laid down beside Gavin letting out a low purr. Connor went to the bathroom, and just like the bedroom, it was modern in style.

There was a little built-in shelf that held different supplies along with a huge first aid kit. Connor grabbed it, making his way out to see Gavin cooing at his cat. "So good, you're my good girl."

Connor set the kit down, opening it up and thankfully finding it fully stocked. It had more than enough supplies, he could stitch him up here without worrying. "She is very pretty, what's her name?"

Gavin glared at him before he let out a sigh. "Doa, her name is Doa."

Connor nodded and helped him out of the shirt fully, gently pulling off the gauze. They both winced, but Connor bit down on his lip to stop from worrying out loud.

He grabbed a swab and the alcohol, hovering over the bloody skin. "This is gonna hurt." He warned.

"Nah dip." Gavin glared before tensing and letting out a long whine as Connor started to clean the area. Thankfully the bullet hole was alright, but he still made sure it was clean.

"Sorry, sorry," Connor mumbled, throwing away the swab. "Alright, time to close it up again. You doing ok?"

Gavin sagged back onto the bed, panting slightly. "No thanks to you."

Connor nodded, glaring at the wounds. This was his fault, but now he was helping. "You are the one that jumped in front of me. You didn't have to." Not that he wasn't appreciative, he saved him a lot of trouble and pain.

He applied some ointment to help numb the area before grabbing the needle. Gavin winced slightly but stayed still otherwise. "I did you ass. Can't have the DPD golden boy down for the count."

Connor kept his eyes on his work but he wanted to look up at Gavin. "Humans are far more fragile, I could have taken it. Now you're suffering because of me." He could get repaired and be back the next day if he was lucky. It would hurt but he'd be fine and with minimal lasting damage. Gavin could be left with even more scars.

His fingers brushed over one that was close to the wound, wondering how he got that one. Was he protecting someone else or himself? Gavin let out a small gasp and Connor pulled his hand back, biting down on his lip.

He finished up the stitches in silence, ignoring how his hands wanted to linger on Gavin's warm skin. It was stupid to want to touch, he hated this stupid, reckless, foolish, good-hearted human. Fuck.

"There," Connor said once finally done. He put on new gauze, content with his hard work. His hands didn't shake so the stitches were perfect, now Gavin had to not agitate them.

"Thanks, I guess." Gavin didn't move except to keep petting Doa who hadn't moved from her spot either. "Not your fault, though."

Connor rolled his eyes, closing the first aid and putting it right back where he found it. "I should have seen it coming and reacted accordingly, you shouldn't have even had to do that. I don't see how that's not my fault."

Gavin let out a groan as he tried to sit up, but Connor was quick to help, putting pillows behind him. "Shit, that burns. Really though, and I'm not going to say this again so don't let it go to your head, ok? It ain't your fault, you don't gotta be perfect, and without you… without you, the DPD wouldn't be the same anymore."

Gavin stared at his cat, cheeks getting a nice dusting of pink. Connor blinked, mouth falling open slightly. "Gavin…" he had no idea what to say.

"Whatever. Just fuck off or whatever. Actually, since you're here can you make me some lunch? I uh, haven't been able to move since I got home." Gavin still couldn't look at him, but Connor couldn't seem to keep his eyes away.

He hated how good Gavin looked, even with his injuries. His hair was ruffled, and his sweat pants looked a little too good on him hanging so lowly on his hips. The rings attached to Gavin's nipples, and he could see scars of where other piercings would be. Connor could see the v of his hips and he wanted to lick his way down, take Gavin's co–oh fuck.

He nodded and all but ran back downstairs, glad that the inside was open-concept and modern in style so he didn't have to go searching for the kitchen.

He went through the cabinets, finding some canned soup and grabbing it. Heating it up and making sure it wouldn't be too hot, along with getting a cup of water gave Connor enough time to get his body and mind under control. He still shifted, annoyed at how easily he got wet.

He wanted to take more time, to reach down and rub at his cunt until he came but that would be highly inappropriate. He couldn't get off to Reed even if he was very attractive and had saved Connor.

He took the bowl of soup and water up on a tray, placing it on Gavin's lap. "Here you go. Maybe I should look after you, you should have someone here given your injuries." If Gavin couldn't even move to get food then he'd need someone there.

Gavin started eating his soup quickly, half-heartedly glaring at Connor. He didn't argue, though, but Connor just assumed that was because he was too focused on eating.

Connor sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out towards Doa. She sniffed at his hand before pushing against it, her purr only getting louder. He ran a hand through his thick gray fur, letting out his own little hum at the softness.

"Slow down, you don't wanna choke." He mumbled.

"Screw you, I'm hungry. Maybe I like being choked." Gavin snickered, but he did eat a bit slower after.

Connor's face felt like it was going to melt off with how hot it was, and he kept his head ducked to hide the blush. He did not need to start imagining things again, especially when he couldn't do anything about it. Even if he thought Gavin would reciprocate for a one-night stand or… or more, he couldn't with Gavin's injuries. He wasn't supposed to do any strenuous activity and Connor was absolutely certain sex counted as that.

"You're cute when you blush," Gavin mumbled and set the bowl off to the side. "Fuck, wow these pain meds are strong."

And that, Gavin, wasn't even in his right mind. The meds would keep it all foggy so the pain wouldn't become overbearing. That still didn't mean Connor didn't blush harder and put a hand over his face. "Gavin, maybe you should get some sleep?"

"Can't. I feel dirty, haven't been able to take a shower. I can't though, and I can't take a bath. Don't know what the doctor expected me to do. Not like I can just get a sponge bath from my cat." Gavin started chuckling at the mental image of that but stopping when it became too much.

"I'll do it," Connor said without thinking. He wanted to slap himself but he couldn't take it back now.

Gavin raised an eyebrow but shrugged. "You know what? Fuck it, why not. Already took a bullet for you, might as well let you see it all. Not like I'm shy. Towels are in the bathroom too."

Connor found what he needed easily, returning to the bed and laying out a towel on it so the sheets wouldn't get dirty. He helped Gavin onto the towel, laying on his side, and then stalled. "Um, I can do your top first? Or just your chest, if you want."

Gavin huffed and started wiggling, trying to push his sweatpants down without bending. Connor grabbed his hips, keeping him still. "Hey, hey stop. I just fixed your stitches, don't make me do it again."

Gavin was facing away from Connor, but he turned his head to glance back at him. "It's alright, really. I don't care if people see me naked, it's just a body, right?"

Right, just a body. Just a very good-looking body that he was going to be rubbing and soaping up. He was careful pulling the sweats down, looking past Gavin before folding the pants.

He took the wet rag and dragged it over Gavins back, completely ignoring Gavin's ass or anything lower for now. He was careful with the rag, grabbing the soaping one and working on that silently. Gavin's back was toned and he had a small tattoo of the word Alive that Connor brushed his fingers over. It seemed like a promise to himself somehow, but Connor didn't ask about it. It seemed a bit too personal as ironic as that was given their situation.

"You still ok?" He asked as he started to wash the soap off his back. Gavin had been oddly quiet, but he didn't seem tense.

Gavin gave a low hum, nodding his head. He still didn't make a noise, but perhaps he was just tired. He grabbed the rag for just water and hovered over Gavin's skin. He rubbed at the small of his back before going down to his ass, trying to make it quick.

He switched to the soap and this time took more time. He really did try not to get caught up in it, but his thighs pressed together as he washed Gavin's ass. He dipped the cloth between his ass and froze when Gavin shivered, letting out a choked-off moan.

Shit. Fucking hell. "I… Gavin." He didn't know what to say, he would stop but part of him wanted to keep going.

"Sorry, sorry. Uh, you don't have to stop if you don't want to." Gavin bit out, voice sounding strange. Oh, that's why he wasn't talking.

"Ok." He kept cleaning, taking his time even more now that he knew it was definitely alright. His own breathing became a little labored biting down on his tongue to keep his interested sounds at bay.

He finished Gavin's back before helping him lay on his back. Gavin's hand covered his cock and Connor tried not to look.

"Um, shit weird question…" Gavin trailed off, staring up at the ceiling. "Do you have a… um, you know."

Connor started on his chest, specifically those pink nipples that had rings hanging from this deliciously, pausing at Gavin's question. "I do not have a penis if that's what you're wondering."

"Huh. Nothing down there… isn't there like parts you can get?"

"Oh, I never said I had nothing. I came with a vagina, and I haven't thought of changing it." He gave a small shrug, taking Gavin's right arm and cleaning it with gentle circular strokes.

Gavin finally looked over at him, both of their faces flushed but with different colors. "Huh, wonder why they did that. Is it, like–uh, reactive? Or does it act like a human one?"

God how he wanted to take Gavin's hand and show him how reactive he is. How dripping wet he can get, and how wet he already was just from this. "Yeah, sometimes I think it's more sensitive than humans."

"Cool, yeah, yeah makes sense." Gavin looked away, and Connor took his other arm, fully exposing him but Connor did not look down. He kept his eyes on Gavin's chest and arms.

"Should I… or maybe you should clean your penis?" Now he did glance at it and felt himself drool a little bit. It was nice and thick, not too long that would be uncomfortable though. It was hard and standing at attention, and Connor really wanted to wrap his lips around it. "Uh…"

"You can? I'm sorry, I didn't know I'd react this way? It feels really good and I guess I just, I'm relaxed and, yeah." Gavin stumbled over his words, but he didn't try to cover himself again.

Connor cleaned around first, not trying to tease the man but he was definitely stalling. Gavin let out a huff when Connor swiped over his hip again, reaching out to cover Connor's hand and guide it to cover his dick. He gasped, his hand tightening over Connor's and therefore Connor's hand tightened around his length.

He swiped up then down before pulling his hand back. His hand dipped down, very briefly swiping over his balls and letting out a long exhale when Gavin outright moaned.

"Sorry, sorry. Just gotta do your legs then you're good." Connor murmured, peeling his eyes away from the appealing sight.

"Fuck, it's ok, I should be the one apologizing." Gavin subconsciously spread his legs and Connor took the opportunity to wash his thighs. Damn those thighs could crush his skull and he'd say thank you.

Connor shook his head, even if he wasn't attracted to him he wouldn't blame him, bodies reacted even when you didn't want them to. "There's no need, I'd be a bit worried if you were stimulated and didn't achieve an erection."

Gavin snorted, eyes falling closed as Connor all but massaged his legs. His erection still stood proud but Gavin didn't reach for it and Connor tried to ignore it.

"Right. All finished. I'm going to put this away and maybe even clean myself up in your bathroom if that's alright?" He said once Gavin was cleaned off and patted dry.

He didn't really wait for a response, escaping into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He tingled with want and after putting away the supplies he turned the shower on but didn't get in. Instead, he sat on the toilet and shoved his hands in his pants. If he did this fast then maybe he wouldn't feel so guilty.

He rubbed his fingers in quick little circles, pressing down just enough to have his legs twitching to close around his hand. His whole stomach tensed as he sped up, already slick with want and he had to bite down on his knuckles to keep from crying out.

He wouldn't finger himself, this would be the fastest and cleanest way, not that he wouldn't need to wash his hands anyway. He’s pulsing and wetter than he can ever remember being in his entire life, and he can't help but imagine the man in the next room.

Would he eat him out? He probably would, Connor would lay back and Gavin would tease him endlessly with his tongue. Connor would want to touch everywhere, that tattoo, those soft but firm muscles, those fucking nipple piercings that he'll never be able to forget are there.

He lets out a small gasp, head falling back as his hips trying to lift off the seat and into his own head desperately. He wants more, he wants Gavin's fingers inside him and he wants his cock to fill him up.

He throbs, even more, fingers working faster as he lets out a suppressed moan. Fuck it felt good, and he was so close. He'd take Gavin into his mouth like he wanted. He'd let Gavin fuck his throat until his vocal box was completely destroyed.

His thighs start to tighten and he can feel the pressure of his orgasm start to rip through him. He lets out a strained moan as he convulses and his thighs constrict around his hand.

He has to pull his hand away when it gets too much and he's left panting. His eyes closed from pure bliss, but after a few seconds, they blink open. It hadn't taken long at all, he was pretty sure that was a personal record.

He cleaned himself up and washed his hands before shutting the shower off and opening the door. He should have knocked, he should have not done what he just did but all he can think about is the hiss of pain.

His eyes widen as he sees Gavin on the bed, his cock in his hand as he strokes himself quickly. His body is clenched tight, curling forward and Connor can see the stitches being pulled.

He rushed over and without thinking covered Gavin's hand, using the other to push him flat against the bed. "Stop, you're gonna hurt yourself." He scolded.

Gavin whined, hips bucking up into their hands. "Please, shit please I'm close, let me finish. I'm so sorry, I thought, shit you aren't wet. You didn't take a shower?"

Now it was Connor's turn to flush, having forgotten to actually jump in to make it seem like he'd showered. "I–you can't, you're bending forward and agitating your wounds."

"Either let me and stay, let me and leave, or do it your damn self but I need to, you fucker." Gavin growled, trying to move his hand but Connor swatted it away. This was his fault too and he'd take care of it.

"Alright, lay flat and try not to move, I'll take care of you." Even after just coming he could already feel that tingly want for more. He truly was insatiable, but that wasn't anything new.

Gavin nodded eagerly, hands going to grasp at the bedsheets under him as Connor slowly stroked up and down. It would be better if Connor did this, he knew that if he left Gavin would do it so that was the better of two options. He could make sure Gavin didn't strain himself, and an orgasm would be good for his pain.

The hand that had pushed Gavin down trailed to his nipple, twirling the jewelry around before tugging ever so slightly. Gavin whimpered, dick twitching in Connor's hand so he did it again but harsher.

His own hips sought out friction but he denied himself, he needed a hand to keep Gavin down and one to pleasure him. He licked his lips in thought before grinning widely.

He leaned forward, licking over the head before taking it into his mouth and sucking. Connor's hand on his chest kept him from jolting him but he couldn't stop his hips from bucking up. Connor whimpered at the length in his mouth, sinking all the way down.

"Fuck! Your mouth is so warm." Gavin said in awe, his voice husky and raw already. "Sit on me."

Connor pulled back with a pop, licking over his lips again. "Sitting on your chest could injure you more."

"No, sit on my face. It'll keep me down and I wanna taste you. I wanna get you off, please." He sounded so pretty begging like that, who could say no?

He stood to push his pants off, tugging off his shirt and tossing it to the other side of the bed. He preened slightly as Gavin's eyes raked over him with clear lust.

Connor carefully climbs onto the bed, positioning himself right above Gavin's face. He can feel the heat of his breath against his dripping cunt and Gavin kisses his thigh instead, making his shutter. He kisses his way down to Connor's wet slit. He pauses to breathe the scent of him in, before reaching up to spread his lips and lick him from cunt to clit.

Connor dips his head down to take him back into his mouth, but instead gives the head kitten licks, his tongue dipping into the slit, and Gavin's moan spurs him on.

Gavin wraps his lips around Connor's hard clit, and sucks, letting the vibrations seep into his skin. Connor's own whine is amplified when he takes him fully into his mouth, barely holding himself up.

Gavin's hand comes up, and two fingers easily slide in. Gavin licks into him, tongue dipping into his labia, toying at the sensitive folds of skin surrounding his clit.

Connor bobs his head desperately, licking and sucking and every inch of Gavin's length. He lets out tiny moans, the friction against his tongue absolutely delicious. His hips bounce slightly, the pleasure too much and not enough at the same time and if he needed air he'd be breathless.

Gavin pushes in a third finger and curls them, pushing against that sweet spot. Connor pushes down hard against his mouth, swallowing around Gavin with a small cry.

Gavin sucks on his slit hard and Connor can't stop himself from coming. He fucks his throat until he can feel Gavin tensing but the man hasn't stopped. His fingers only press in harder and the tongue brings him close to the edge again.

Connor doesn't pull away, he swallows down every last drop as his own body convulses with his third orgasm. The taste of Gavin in his mouth is addicting but the man needs to breathe and Connor needs to make sure he's ok.

He climbs off just as carefully as he got on, scanning Gavin. Other than what he expected, elevated heart rate, flushed body, pupils dilated, and the likes, Gavin seems perfectly fine.

Around Gavin's mouth is a little messy with Connor's slick, so he takes it upon himself to lick it all up before finally kissing him.

Gavin gasps, but it turns into a happy little sound so Connor doesn't pull away. The kiss is oddly sweet and tender, but they can both taste themselves and they like it a little too much.

Connor only pulls away to let Gavin breathe, fingers dancing over the human's heated skin. "You're amazing at that." He says with a small giggle.

"What, eating you out or kissing?" Gavin asks, looking at him with too fond eyes. Maybe Connor does know why Gavin jumped in front of the bullet. Connor would do the same if given the chance.

"Both, but we can't do the first again until you're better." He waves a finger at him like he's a naughty child, and it gets a genuine laugh out of Gavin. It's truly a beautiful sound and Connor almost wants to beg for more of it.

"I'm glad we can both agree there will be more. You know… you looking after me might not be a terrible thing." Gavin smirks up at him.

"Well, I was given the week off. I'm sure we can find some creative things to pass the time that won't hurt you." He already had a few ideas and was dying to try it out.

"I've never been so happy to have been shot and stabbed in my life," Gavin said before pulling him back down into a kiss.

Connor wished he wasn't in pain, but he honestly couldn't agree more.

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justseveralowls · 4 years

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I’ve spent over 16 hours in two different ERs and I’d like to vent

CW: Doctors hospitals, chronic illness, incompetence, female hysteria, humiliation, mental health stigma,

What follows is my original post made on Thursday, there is a update as of today at the end and the news is not all bad. This is made to spread awareness talk about an issue I feel is way too often ignored and most importantly let other people feeling this they aren’t alone.

So. I have ehler danlos syndrome, celiac, endometriosis, fibromyalgia, and an (so far) otherwise specified seizure disorder. So basically I am a medical dumpster fire. Getting a or in my case several diagnosis has been a long terrifying and grueling for both me and my partner. We have enountered many doctors and nurses who were kind attentive willing to listen and knowledgeable about my Miriad of admiditally uncommon diagnosis. But today I am so incredibly hurt, frustrated, angry and scared and I want to put this out there because this is part of the many problems that chronically ill and disabled people face everytime they walk into a doctors office, emergency room or even out in public.

So I look sick, it’s obvious and it’s been obvious for a long time. I sit at around a six to seven on a pain scale most of my life, which sucks. I have chronic nausea and weight loss that makes me weak and thin in a sick way, which also sucks. But by far the hardest thing is hoe many people refuse to take my seriously. So today after three months on a waiting list I saw a gastroenterologist. I was scared, underweight, sick and tired. I wanted answers like always and let my partner drag me into a beige fluorescent room to try and make some sense. Overall the doctor was nice, but put heavy emphasis on my past of CPTSD from repeated abuse, and implied that my weight loss and severe gastrointestinal problems could be “just a side effect of my anxiety”. That was dehumanizing to say the least. Because I know I’m traumatized, I’ve sat in therapists offices and cried, I’ve pulled myself together, fought addiction and anorexia and I know that I’m healing. I know it’s his job to look between the lines but I also want to just have a chance to be understood, and not dismissed as a psych case.

Later today I had an episode of vomiting and loss of consciousness, over all not great stuff. So my partner in their amazing sense of love and compassion took me to th ER. Because that’s where you’re supposed to go when you’re scared, sick, hurt, in danger and don’t know what to do.

My experience there was by far the worst I’ve ever had. My vitals were highly abnormal (high pulse at rest, low BP, and low pulse ox). I was having neurological symptoms related to my seizure disorder and instead was given a barrage of tests that had nothing to do with why I was there, the condition I repeatedly told them I had, or the worrying vitals. So after two hours a head CT and useless blood work the ER doctor looked at me and my partner (who was forced to wait in the car in 94 degree weather) and told me I was fine and dehydrated.

I’m a nursing student, I’m new, I’m a novice at the most, and I have a lot to learn. But never could I imagine having a chronically patient, with abnormal labs and vitals with numerological involvement be given saline and discharged. My partner and I were terrified because we didn’t know what else to do. I needed help. I needed answers. I needed them to hear me. After me panicking my partner told me that we should try again. Because doctors are here to help us, and if your scared and there’s something wrong they took an oath to help.

So I called the nurse who was awesome, he went and got the doctor and I was ready to make my case. My partner at this point as well as me were terrified frustrated and close to tears. And this ER doctor after hearing our concerns, my history (with chronic illness and anorexia) proceeded to throw up her hand and as’ my partner “what they her to do”. This was shocking but sadly it doesn’t end here. The doctor proceeded to insist that I was fine and the situation was both non emergent and out of her hands. I responded in a passive way because at that point I was scared triggered and exausted. And I asked what she thought I should do”. And the words that came of her mouth hurt me and made more angry than any four syllables ever has.

“Psych referral”

Now let me something straight. I am a survivor, I am working in me healing, I am growing and changing for the better. I take my meds go to therapy and work everyday to get a little better. But this woman who obviously hadn’t read my chart which denotes not only my diagnosis, psychological history, and notEs from speacialists on the severity of my physical condition has just implied that I’m crazy. This was horrible but 8 could see how it would seem that I am overreacting but, due years of gaslighting, medication being forced on me to cover abuse and trauma, I hate being called that. It’s not a real term, nor does it help anyone, nor does it doing anything but make me remember the nights I spent wondering if that word was me.

In one visit, one person managed to dehumanize, humiliate dismiss me and maybe risk my life based on the fact that 8 wasn’t worth the time it took to read my chart.

It so incredibly weird to have to say this but I as a queer, gay, chronically ill, Latin person am in fact still a human being WHOS painand concerns deserve as much respect as anyone else. We all deserve to be helped and heard and people like this are one of the many reasons that I and so many others are scared to ge5 help, scared to tell the full story, or scared to speak up. This kills people. This is killing people. And this is why I in all my chronically glory and working so hard to advocate and move forward in medicine as a whole. Because nobody deserves that. Because I didn’t deserve to sit in an ER terrified and be told I was crazy. Because my partner doesn’t deserve to be dismissed and mocked for being scared. Because I nor anyone else have to prove I am sick enough or disabled enough to be worth someone’s time.

I hope anyone who reads this and understands even a little. Who’s been through it, whose family and partners have been through it know that this is not okay, that this not your fault, and that you are by no means crazy. That the people who make feel like burden or an annoyance are the problem. Because you deserve to be heard. I m hoping everybody’s doing okay, I’m hoping your journeys are treating you well. Because as always no matter who are, where you are and what you’re feeling you are not alone, you are worthy and I believe you.

***Update**

I later went to a larger hospital not in my home town, and through a long stay in the ER got a formal epilepsy diagnosis, given a anti convulsants drug, and overall treated like a human being. I now have contact with their epilepsy unit and have the tool and education I need to start this part of my chronic illness journey. I’m exhausted and getting used to knew meds but am highly grateful for the good doctors out there, the nurses who listen and the partner who was angelic enough to be with me through it all.

#mental health #mine #system speaks #personal #chronic illness #spoonie #recovery #coping #rant #vent #medical struggles #mental health support #ehlers danlos syndrome #actually epileptic

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revolutionary-demosthenes · 4 years

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So to start off, here are some mini-bios of people who I’ll be talking about! This is going to be a long post, but it will make it easier to understand my future posts if you don’t know some of these people. I’m covering: Alexander Hamilton, John Laurens, Francis Kinloch, Lois Manoël de Vègobre, Johannes Von Müller, Charles Victor de Bonstetten, Alleyne Fitzherbert 1st Baron, St. Helens, and Thomas Gray.

John Laurens: You might’ve heard of him if you listen to Hamilton. John Laurens was born in Charleston, South Carolina. His father was Henry Laurens, a prominent South Carolinian who co-owned the largest slave trading house in North America, “Austin and Laurens.” Yeah. He pretty much was a terrible father and a terrible person. He would later become president of the congressional congress. His mother was named Eleanor Laurens. Her death when John was 16 marked a significantly traumatic event in his life, however in general, John Laurens was very well acquainted with death. He was the fourth child born in his family, but he was the oldest by the time he was four years old, his older siblings all dying at young ages. One can only speculate how these early losses affected young John, or Jack, as his family called him.

John was most likely tutored at a young age. He grew up in very privileged circumstances certainly, as his father was one of the most well-known and rich South Carolinians of the time.

As John grew up, he became very studious and serious. His father viewed him as the most promising child of the Laurens children, and prayed he would not fall prey to gambling or women. At nearly thirteen, we find our first piece of evidence suggesting John Laurens might be gay. His father Henry Laurens writes, “Master Jack is too closely wedded to his studies to think about any of the Miss Nannies I would not have such a sound in his Ear for a Crown…” In other words, Henry Laurens noticed his son’s unusual lack of interest in girls. Of course, one could read it as a passing comment on how studious his son was, or just thankfulness that Henry’s ‘best’ son didn’t seem to be ‘tempted’ in any way, but this does still confirm that as a young teenager, (and some point out that this is the time when many boys go through puberty, and therefore discover their sexual interests,) John was NOT interested in ladies.

As John grew even older, his father decided the time was ripe for some education in Europe. Some speculation has occurred that right before John left for Europe he painted a collection known as Pope Brown Collection of South Carolina Natural History. It contains 32 paintings of natural organisms, including many types of birds and plants. This is not confirmed, but it is of interest to many that John Laurens was a very good artist, and probably quite interested in art. Many have heard of the (in)famous turtle drawings John did. In truth, though John did draw the soft-shelled turtle for naturalist Alexander Garden, he most likely did not have an uncommon affection for that particular animal.

So, John soon found himself on a boat to Europe with his younger brothers, Henry jr. and James, known as Jemmy. They eventually settled in Geneva, staying with a family friend.

But before we even get to Geneva, it is worth noting a passage from a letter by Henry Laurens. This was written while John was briefly enrolled in a school in London. While complaining about the many crimes and indulgences of the city, he mentions “…and every black and execrable Crime had gain’d in the City is equally astonishing and shocking.” Now this simply could be another thrown in crime in the long list that precedes this, but in those those days ‘black crime’ was sometimes a code for homosexuality. So was John exposed to homosexuality in London the way Hamilton was at Nevis? This could provide some context for his later relationship with Francis Kinloch.

In 1772, the Laurens boys arrived in Geneva. John studied a multitude of subjects, and polished up his French. While he fretted about finding his brothers proper schools, his Uncle James Laurens was concerned about a different aspect of his time. Geneva, which had been a theocracy at one point, was now very open to new, more secular ways of thinking. John assured his Uncle that he was not influenced by any of his teachers not being ‘classically’ Christian. But it may not be a coincidence that the place where John most likely had his first homosexual relationship was a place more open to new types of thinking and concepts, especially in terms of religion.

What exactly was this first relationship? To establish some context, we must return briefly to Charlestown, South Carolina. The Kinloch family lived there and did know the Laurens’s. The name ‘Kinloch’ appears in some of Henry Laurens’s papers, and apparently Francis Kinloch’s sister made John ruffles for his travels to Europe. But in 1774, as John was dutifully studying in Geneva, his father wrote to him “From a hint which Waag dropped at Bath tis expected by the freinds of the young Eatonian that he will find a freind in you at Genevé, tho none of ‘em have Said a word to me on the Subject.” This “freind” is in fact Francis Kinloch, so it may be that he and John had met before.

John and Francis became very good friends along with one of Laurens’s tutors, Luis de Manoel de Vegobre. There is little documentation of the Kinloch-Laurens relationship whilst the latter was in Geneva, but once they were separated many letters were exchanged, several quite romantic sounding. What is quite possibly the most passionate line Laurens ever wrote to a lover is contained at the end of a letter to Francis. “We may differ in our political sentiments my dear Kinloch but I shall always love you for the knowledge I have of your Heart.” Kinloch was a loyalist, influenced by his guardian Thomas Boone, while John Laurens was obviously a patriot and the two debated hotly via letters.

Another aspect that must be looked at when considering the Laurens-Kinloch relationship is the amount of trust in the relationship. The level of trust is apparent when we see John first express his abolitionist views in a letter to Kinloch, “I could talk much with you my Dear Friend upon this Subject,” says John, referring to slavery. “and I know your generous Soul would despise and sacrifice Interest to establish the Happiness of so large a Part of the inhabitants of our Soil_ if as some pretend, but I am persuaded more thro’ interest, than from Conviction, the Culture of the Ground with us cannot be carried on without African Slaves, Let us fly it as a hateful Country_ and say ubi Libertas ibi Patria…” Kinloch responded that he supported the ideas, but did not see how fellow Southerners would adopt them. This only illustrates more clearly that though there were serious conflicts, theirs was a loving and trusting relationship.

When John was forced to leave Geneva, (and he did want to stay… one wonders if Kinloch had something to do with this. It may have been other reasons, like that John felt freer from his father or enjoyed his rich social life.) he wrote a plaintive letter to Kinloch, telling him, “If my Letter is a little confused, dont be surprised at it, for I am quite like a creature in [a] new world…”

However, as if John hadn’t lost enough family in his mere nineteen years, his brother Jemmy lost his life that summer. The boy had apparently tried to jump to John’s window and had fractured his skull. John was with his brother through the horrible night. He wrote to his uncle James, “At some Intervals he had his Senses, so far as to be able to answer singe Questions, to beckon me, to form his Lips to kiss me, but for the most part he was delirious and frequently unable to articulate. Puking, Convulsions near very violent, and latterly so gentle as to be scarcely perceived, or deserve the Name, ensued, and Nature yielded.” It is notable that soon after this, John Laurens sent a letter to Francis Kinloch, whom he hadn’t corresponded with since late the year before, 1774. This again illustrates that though the relationship was not flawless or without conflict, Laurens trusted and confided in his friend/lover.

Now studying law at Middle Temple, John received an extremely upsetting letter from Francis Kinloch. Apparently Kinloch was ready to move on from their romance. He starts the letter with an almost deceptively affectionate opening, “Whatever may be your idea of my manner of thinking in political affairs, don’t let that hinder you from telling me yours, and I promise to be as free with you: we hold too fast by one anothers hearts, my dear Laurens, to be afraid of exposing our several opinions to each other.” But Kinloch signs the letter “be certain I shall never forget you.” Apparently John saw this as Kinloch being done with him, and as a result did something that would change his life forever.

One of Henry Laurens’s business partners, William Manning, was in London the same time as John, and apparently young Laurens came to call occasionally and enjoyed the company of Manning’s children. This is where he met Martha Manning. There is one piece of evidence to suggest that they were courting for a time, however all we know for sure is that Martha became pregnant around the time the last Kinloch letter reached John, and John Laurens was forced to marry the woman, certainly not because he loved her. “Pity has obliged me to marry.” John wrote to his uncle. It could be that if they were courting prior to the pregnancy, the relationship was one-sided, or was an attempt for John be seen as straight.

Though John was now married, he was yearning to leave his unhappy marriage and fight for America. An ardent patriot and abolitionist, he longed to go overseas and join the army. Henry Laurens tried his best to hinder his son’s want, but found that John was no longer a child he could bend to his will. So, John boarded a ship to America, not knowing, and possibly not caring, that he was leaving his wife behind.

Henry Laurens, being a very prominent Carolinian and future president of the Continental Congress, managed to get his son an excellent position as Aide-de-Camp to general George Washington, though John was not officially appointed the position until October 6th or 7th. He joined the staff in August 1777, and met Alexander Hamilton, a man who would change his life forever.

Alexander Hamilton:

In quite a contrast to John Laurens’s privileged, if morbid childhood, future Founding Father Alexander Hamilton was born out of wedlock on the tiny island of St Croix to Rachel Facuette and James Hamilton in either the year 1755 or 1757. (There is great debate over his birth year. Hamilton himself used 1757, but a large amount of evidence from his childhood points to 1755. For time’s sake, we will use 1755.) Hamilton adored books and writing, but was hindered in his intellectual dreams by the grim circumstances he was brought up in.

Hamilton had a single brother, James, also born out of wedlock. When Hamilton was 12 his mother died of smallpox, quite common at the time. Alexander was also sick, however he recovered, albeit he always had health problems most likely connected to the early brush with mortality.

Where Alexander grew up, blacks outnumbered whites by a ratio of nearly 8:1, so there was existential tension in the air, a constant fear of sugar plantation owners that the slaves would revolt. Indeed, the slave owners were so cruel to their slaves that things Hamilton witnessed as a child appear to have given him a permanent pessimism about human nature. In addition to the rich white landowners and enslaved blacks, there was a population of poor whites and criminals. St. Croix was a place where outcasts in society at the time were sent as well. This included people accused of sodomy (homosexuality). Ron Chernow writes in his biography of Alexander Hamilton, “Hamilton had certainly been exposed to homosexuality as a boy, since many ‘sodomites’ were transported to the Caribbean along with thieves, pickpockets, and others deemed undesirable.” This may explain why Hamilton seemed more at ease with his sexuality than Laurens, who grew up in a more strict, to say the least, household.

After his mother’s untimely death, Alexander and his brother lived with their cousin Peter Lytton. Unfortunately, very soon after the arrangement began, Peter took his own life, leaving the boys with practically no place to go.

Alexander managed to get a job clerking for a prominent businessman. It is no stretch to assume that this is where Hamilton began his economic studies. While Alexander managed to get a good job, his brother was stuck being a carpenter and competing with others for work. Ron Chernow points out that this is again an example of Hamilton’s superior intellect pulling him out of ditches.

When Alexander was seventeen, a horrible storm shook the island of St. Croix. Hamilton wrote a beautiful and moving account of the hurricane, and this led to people raising enough money for him to enroll in King’s College in New York City.

Louis Manoël de Vegobre:

A Swiss lawyer who met Francis Kinloch and John Laurens while in Geneva. His early life is pretty elusive, as he does not even have a wikipedia page. He was a math teacher, and John Laurens’s math tutor. John Laurens taught him English, and both Kinloch and Laurens seem to have taught Vegobre to love America, as he grew despairing when he heard about the challenges of the war in America. The book, Evolution of a Federalist: William Loughton Smith of Charleston (1758-1812) says of Vegobre, “When the first rumblings reached Europe, de Vegobre wrote Laurens: ‘Poor America!—you cannot believe how much me heart is moved on its account; you, and after you Kinloch have raised in my mind such a concern for your native country! I am as much affected for what happens to it, as if I were an American…. English friends, I will, I will see you in your country, before I die!’”

Vegobre was likely in a romantic relationship with Kinloch. He wrote to John Laurens in December 1774: “Let me tell you what are these pleasures whose you are the first cause. I began to understand speaken; I read Spectator, Clarissa, Milton and Shakespear, besides some philophical books. Never, never in my life I have been so well entertained as I am when I read Milton; and why? First, for Poet’s excellency, and secondly and chiefly because I read it with Kinloch. My beloved, my dearest friend is Kinloch; how happy am I, when I teach him some part of natural Philosophy, when I read with him both English and French Poets, when I talk with him about various matters plainly and heartily as with a friend! Let me say again: Kinloch is my beloved, my dearest friend.”

Charles Victor de Bonstetten (Karl Victor von Bonstetten in German):

A writer from Switzerland, he was educated partly in Geneva, where he would develop the liberal beliefs that alarmed his father enough to make him return to Bern, where Bonstetten was born. He introduced the people of the Ticino Valley to potatoes.

He appears to have had a romance with Johannes Von Müller and Thomas Gray (I will be posting about the Gray- Bonstetten relationship very soon)

Johannes Von Müller:

A historian who’s life goal was to compile a giant master history book on Switzerland. He was a teacher of Greek, and later appointed office by Napoleon himself. He wrote many history books, and traveled throughout Europe throughout his life.

Letter from Müller to Bonstetten: “Any mistakes I may make in the future will be your fault; that is only if you neglect your letter-writing – your friendship can never grow cold – might I let myself be surprised by a passion. Tell me why I love you more as time passes. You are now incessantly in me and around me. My dearest friend, how much better it is to think of you than to live with the others! How is it possible to desecrate a heart that is consecrated to you? I need you more than ever; over and above these immutable, laudable plans for a useful life and an immortal name I have forsworn everything that is considered to be pleasant and delightful – not only pleasure but love, not only revels, but good living, not only greed, but ambition. B. is everything to me, you make all my battles easy and all abstinence sweet. Thus you live in my mind and especially in my heart. You write to me often, but it does not seem enough to me; you often address only the historian, and do not embrace your friend often enough.”

Thomas Gray:

I stumbled upon this man while researching Bonstetten and Müller. I came upon the book My Dear Boy: Gay Love Letters Through the Centuries. I saw that one of the essays in the book was entitled Thomas Gray & Charles- Victor de Bonstetten. Intrigued, I clicked on the essay, and then from there I somehow managed to find the archive of a full biography of Gray. Thomas Gray was an English poet. He was/is pretty famous, but not super well-known, partially because he did not publish much in his lifetime. Thomas Gray’s childhood was marred with sadness. He had nearly a dozen siblings, but none except him lived past babyhood. He stayed with his mother once he had left his father, who was abusive. He was born in 1716 and died in 1771.

Francis Kinloch:

John Laurens’s first boyfriend. He was also born in Charleston (then Charles Town) and educated at Eton College. After this he went to Geneva, where he met John Laurens. He later hosted what I call Kinloch’s Gay Retreat, in which he had Johannes Von Müller, Charles Victor de Bonstetten, and Alleyne Fitzherbert, 1st Baron, St. Helens stay with him.

Alleyne Fitzherbert, 1st Baron, St. Helens:

I haven’t been able to find anything gay about him except he was apparently lord of the bedchamber for George III, and find words.info says this about lord of the bedchamber: “A Lord of the Bedchamber's duties consisted of assisting the King with his dressing, waiting on him when he ate in private, guarding access to him in his bedchamber and closet and providing companionship.” So… possible? Maybe, but King George III also had like 20 other Lords of the Bedchamber. Also fun fact: Mt. St. Helens is named after him!

Hope this was informative!

#Alleyne Fitzherbert #Francis Kinloch #John Laurens #Thomas Gray #Johannes Von Müller #Charles Victor de Bonstetten #Alexander Hamilton #This will kinda be the basis for most of what I post #Kinloch's Gay Retreat #King George III #queer history #1700s

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