#whatever memory brough them there

[wulvercazz]

🤖A Taste of Humanity💕

We've come to the end of this short AU ;w; Hope you enjoy✨

Previous~

Ichigo's quiet, somber, walk back into the garage didn't go unnoticed. Grimmjow stared quietly, eyeing thoughtfully the heavy backpack and the lost look behind Ichigo's eyes. But not much was discussed about what he found that night. Not about the state that the apartment was in, or the destroyed lab - beyond mentioning in passing how Ichigo had looked through the rubble - or whatever Ichigo's theories on everything were.

All they did the next few nights was pretend this was normal, that Ichigo pulling parts of his insides apart and back together was normal. That a silent prototype, that Professor Jaegerjaquez had never bothered to speak to him about, uknowingly donating its bits and pieces to him was, too, normal. That the way his sythetic skin seemed to almost shiver when Ichigo's hands dipped right inside his ribcage wasn't at all worrying.

At least, Ichigo's continuous amazement with his body kept him a step off the existential crisis; the human had almost lost his own breath when he installed his diaphragm and, in automatic coded response, his lungs inflated with a deep first 'breath'.

He'd stared for a full, uncomfortable minute at the way it all shifted inside of him, at his chest rising and falling- as if alive.

Grimmjow doesn't know much about Professor Jaegerjaquez's reasons, but he knows for certain that humanity was his utmost priority when he planned him. Clearly, something had gone entirely, horribly wrong, because the first memory he ever saved into his brand new core was of the professor: vomiting all across the shiny floor after staring at him with what his newborn emotion reading systems classified as regret. He's aware that what he is is more of a perversion of humanity than anything close to it; but Ichigo... Ichigo looks at him in ways undecypherable even to his advanced sensors. Like he could find companionship on him - a depraved piece of metal bent in the shape of a man.

Not that Ichigo seems to realize, or attempts not to. The one night stands continue, the loud moans and screams, the oddly warm goodbyes the morning after that never quite reach Ichigo's cold hard eyes. Grimmjow feels almost guilty about finding reassurance on how robotic Ichigo himself can be; if he stares hard enough, he could probably guess the 'code' to follow happening in his head. 'Smile, be nice, offer help, a last kiss - not too deep - smile again. Close the door and drop the act.'

He doesn't act that way around him, and he shouldn't feel pride at that... but he does. Grimmjow finds himself initiating conversations more, asking about Ichigo like he asked about him once; and learns he's not the only tight-lipped consciousness living in this garage.

"Your earlobe piercings." He starts one of those times, knowing now that superficial questions are the best way to start with Ichigo. "Why did you get them?"

"Uh-" Ichigo's startled from his work replacing Grimmjow's abdomen muscle-gel cover.

"I don't know... I guess, I like the look. I was a teenager then, there wasn't much reason to it other than I felt like it."

Grimmjow ponders for a few seconds, only to blurt right out; "give me one."

"Eh?"

"An earlobe piercing, dumbass."

"I got that." Ichigo huffs at him, but anger comes and goes for him quickly as always. "I just would've never expected you to want one."

"You just said there wasn't much reason to yours." Without much of an argument to that, Ichigo agreed in the end; grabbing a needle-like stiff wire sharp enough to pierce through Grimmjow's synthetic, and quite dense, white skin.

"In three-"

"I can't feel pain, genius, just do it."

"Right..." Ichigo had brough over on of his old earrings, a simple metal bling; put it on him with the same ridiculous care he always gave him.

"It looks good." His voice soft, his warm fingers lingering far too long on the newly pierced ear. He blames Ichigo's touchy fucking nature for suddenly getting the urge to ask something more daring. Something that he won't admit to having thought far too long about.

"What does it feel like," his voice quiet, Ichigo barely registers it enough to stop looking at the new piercing and instead look into Grimmjow's eyes. "Kissing?"

And perhaps it's that same touchiness that has a mere half second of surprise fill Ichigo's eyes before it's overcome by the dark bleed of his pupils looking down at his lips. "Want me to show you?"

Grimmjow wants to say no. A simple explanation should be enough, his mind is scrambling through all bits and pieces of information stored there for any sort of protocol for this type of situation- and when he finds none... something else entirely that Professor Jaegerjaquez didn't program into him makes him nod dumbly.

"Close your eyes." He feels Ichigo whisper against his lips, and he doesn't want to - but all rational processes in his system seem to have been overriden by a force above himself. Making him do just that, making him sag into his sole arm and let the mechanic press his lips to his, nip at them, slide his tongue in; simply rests his head in his gloved hands and lets Ichigo do with him as he will.

The idiot starts acting all weird the days following the kiss. Skirting his way about their next conversations, whatever this stupid human sentiment is... Grimmjow wants none of it. Ichigo's cheeks pink in embarrasment whenever their eyes meet, like Grimmjow didn't ask for it in the first place. His hands almost ghost his skin as he continues to fix him, like they didn't press hungrily into it that night. He spends more time in that forgotten lab "gathering parts" than here ('with him', he almost adds, but that is too much even for him), like something terrible might happen if he's around too long.

"Fucking decide already-" he snaps at him, Ichigo's hands attaching the last few cables into his new arm in the same odd, awful silence he's been working in the past week. Makes the idiot jump in his seat like he did that first time he spoke to him "- if you're disgusted by me just throw me out to street. If you're not, stop acting like it."

"Grimmjow! I already told you- I- I'm not-"

"Do you regret kissing me, then?" He pushes on, "if so just fucking say so and move on. You acting like I'm a thing again is tiring, I don't understand it and it pisses me off!" He's not sure why he's shouting. Why the mess of cables in his throat seem to tie in knots, or why he cares so fucking much about this at all.

But something clearer, realization - and then guilt - show on Ichigo's face before he drops back into his seat by the worktable and covers his face in, shame... perhaps. "I'm sorry- I'm sorry I don't- I didn't mean..."

He doesn't get it. Just like the Professor's sudden, overwhelming anguish didn't make sense at all, Ichigo's inner turmoils coming to the surface before him just make his mind come to blank mental screens. Its infuritating.

"I'm not good at... it's the... the feeling thing. I... I panicked when kissing you felt... so good."

Laughter, true, uncontrollable laughter, had been another one of those foreign things to him until that day. That Ichigo worried about human emotions more than him... that he was feeling... well... hurt, at the possibility of rejection. What a mess.

What a fucking mess.

Grimmjow promised, after laughing some more, that he wouldn't ask for more touch out of the blue, but he'd be always open to it when Ichigo wanted it; and Ichigo... had agreed to speaking more openly to him.

Ichigo was still awkward, clumsy even in his own human-ness; but he was kind enough to remind him (with a flustered pout) that no one was good at this human thing. That in the end... the human experience was full of fumbling around in the dark, trying to make the best of things without knowing where you're truly going half the time.

~💕🤖💕~

I never intended to make it a huge world-changing plot, but rather, as you'll have noticed by now, make it a simple thing about two very different beings finding some sort of similar comfort and grounding on each other<33 Sorry there's no real smutty writing in the main story,,, an extra subscriber-only art and writting post does exist on my substar/patreonn (and I'll post a sneak to it tomorrow),,, but this au called for more character introspection than smut like my aus usually do lol! Anyway-- ty so much for reading💕

Back to the Beginning🤖

Subscriber-only Extra Sneak Peek

[annie-creates]

Get you to fall in love

Pairing: Queen Ravenna x reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 1500

Note: A second part to Desperately by her side. There might be a room for one more in the story if it's requested, but for now that's it. Thank you so much for being a devoted reader of my work.

Finn’s task proved to be considerately more difficult when you not only didn’t want to be found, but were actively hiding from his guards and raiders. With each day his sister’s demands and threats got more and more obscure and impossible to fulfill, and every time he thinks there’s nothing worse that could come, she proves him wrong. They still needed to find Snow White, and that’s why she wanted to find you so desperately, he thought. So why did it seem like she’s more fixated on you than the culprit herself?

You travel through the land with nothing but your sword and a few practical possessions, choosing to travel light in case you needed to flee suddenly. The warrant for your capture was still out and many would take any chance to get on the queen’s good side and earn the reward for themselves. You escaped her own soldier by short a few times yourself. But the memory of her golden hair and stone-cold eyes made you wonder if it would have been so bad, going back and meeting her again, even when you were certain it would be the beginning of the end of your unfairly short life.

You were currently staying in a little town in the north of the kingdom, keeping your profile low. Exchanging the animals you hunted in the forests for potatoes and warm wool, working to earn a bit of money to get by around here. Growing suspicious and unnecessarily paranoid over the last couple of weeks staying in such a small place brough you calm and a little peace of mind. Surely no one would even look for you in such forgotten place on the map, right?

You shouldn’t have assumed though, because you are woken up by two soldiers covering your mouth and tying your hands. As you trash around to get out of their grasp, they drag you out of the small house where you were staying with a welcoming old man. He now stood in the doorframe taking a full bag of gold coins from one of the guards, hardly sparing you a pitiful glance. You cuss yourself out for having such open trust in people and humanity, when they’d sell you for tomorrow’s dinner. You can’t help but fear for your life as you’re helplessly taken back to the castle, the carriage speeding through your beloved land.

“Put her in the dungeon.” Finn orders when you arrive deep into the night and the soldiers throw you behind bars.

The dungeon was cold and moldy, you couldn’t help the shake going through your bones. The darkness didn’t feel welcoming but dangerous, like you didn’t know what could attack you from the deeps of the night. The steel bars are freezing your hands but it feels like you’ll get lost if you let go of them. The floor is covered in a thick layer of dirty straw, that being the only place for you to sleep or sit. So you sit down with your back to the cold stone wall, curling up into yourself to keep at least a bit of your body heat.

You are woken up by a harsh tug of your restrains, the guard walking your through the castle without as much as a single word. The moment you stand in front of the queen again, this time completely vulnerable at her mercy, your fear is once again overtaken by awe. There’s a different crown on her head this time, her hair precisely braided into a bun. You could say whatever you want about her personality but the truth was even a blind man would have to admit her ethereal beauty.

She looks at you with her hawk sight, analyzing your out of shape form. You seemed dirtier than the last time she saw you, and there was a tiredness to your face and shoulders she didn’t recognize. Maybe that’s just what months in hiding do to a person? Constantly looking behind your back must be hard on the neck. She couldn’t help but feel somewhat sympathetic for you. You still had your fierce and wit, but the over-the-top confidence was gone as was your sword and apparently even your sleep and nutritious food. You spent minutes just looking at each other, she analyzing you and you trying to guess how far the end of your life is.

“Aren’t you gonna bow to your queen?” She asks after the silence grows heavy and one of the guards kicks your knees in.

“I didn’t think my queen would care for my respects.” You counter, at least you’re gonna go out with grace.

“I’d be careful with your insolent tongue, I’m deciding how you’re gonna live the rest of your life.” She warns you as if it wasn’t the only thing you thought about ever since you got here.

“If it’s back in the dungeons I’d rather my tongue brings me the execution earlier than later.” You admit determinedly.

She furrows her brows at that, how could someone actually prefer death over life? But that wasn’t at all what she wanted to do with you, so she ordered the guard to bring you into one of the servants’ rooms and lock you in there. She’ll pay you a visit soon enough, but now, she needs to have a word with whoever threw you into the disgusting dungeon instead of giving you a proper place to sleep of bringing you to her immediately. And it was pretty clear who’s fault that was.

“Finn!” She couldn’t believe she was related to such a dumbass. “Care to explain why you would treat our guest so poorly!?”

“My dear sister, she’s a criminal! You should execute her for her impudence and disrespect immediately.” He disagrees.

“That’s no way to treat people we want something from, Finn. I have no intention to execute her, nor imprison her.” She clears. “Her talents would be of no use was she dead.”

Finn couldn’t see whatever it was his sister saw in you, to him you were just an entitled girl you’re a naughty mouth who needed to be put in her place or better, completely gotten rid of. He didn’t understand why Ravenna cared about such a low life all of the sudden, treating you to an actual room with a bed and warm food. To him you were no better than the rats in their outfall, your life completely useless and worthless. Meanwhile the queen was possessed with her fondness of you, ordering the kitchen to bring you enough food and making sure you are given fresh warm duvets and clothes. And after that, she visits you again the next day, even knocking on your door before entering to give you some false sense of privacy.

“How are you today?” She asks with a demeanor that makes you bow down to her instantly. “Did you think about your time here?”

“I’m still not hunting Snow White down for you.” You stand your ground, why else would she want you back here? “I’m not the right person to call for a dirty job.”

“No, I… wanted to give you a different offer. You might have noticed a person in my position doesn’t have many friends but has a lot of people out for their head. I want you to become my knight…” She explains with a vulnerability she wouldn’t show to anyone else.

“Why would I do that?” You surely weren’t the most trust earning person in your time here. “You’d trust me with your life after I disobeyed you?”

“I can pay you.” The queen offers, in her experience money could buy anything and anyone. “And I saw your incredible skills, I wouldn’t entrust my life to just anybody.”

“I don’t care about your money.” She should have noticed that by the way Finn described your lifestyle.

“Then what do you want, hm? Fortune? Beauty? Infinite life? I can give you that…” She promises, getting a bit desperate. “I can give you anything you want, anything you’ll ask for.”

What could she give to someone who already had all they needed? She feared you won’t find a reason to stay here, and she couldn’t just force you. not if she wanted you to grow some genuine likeness for her. You reconsidered and weighted the situation, you weren’t particularly thrilled about a service at the castle but you also wouldn’t reject help to anyone in need, and she has so far always treated you decently and with respect.

“Okay, I’ll work here for food and housing for a year. Then, I’ll reconsider my need here.” You finally accept, hoping to not regret your decision.

“Great! I’ll get your chambers prepared.” With a genuine enthusiasm she practically runs out the door to get you settled for your stay.

A year would be enough to get you to fall in love with her, right? And then she won’t have to fear about you ever leaving her side again.

[stiffyck]

yep. tcd has definitely taken over i havent read everything so some may be repeats who knows! scars camera, a shitty camcorder that he got from his dad when he was a kid is one of scars prized possessions. him and his brother used to use it to document whatever wild ideas they came up with when scar ended up being alone (with no name. he barely remembers having a brother- did he even have a brother to begin with?) he deleted the old footage for memory. he never rewatched the footage, it hurt to think he actually had a happy life before something out of his control killed his family. he still used it to document. (don't speak of the way some of the recordings were just breakdowns. or how some were so short, and clearly accidental. a young boy, barely in his teens warily looking off to the side before realizing the cameras on. how the last recording was 30 minutes long, documenting how a barely-adult basically walked into suicide, and 20 minutes of it is just dead footage, of barely anything being able to be seen. just the sounds of groaning and darkness before it abruptly ends. the battery died. (just like who was holding the camera))

scar's sketchbook, another one of his prized possessions. it was his first (and only... until he left the hellscape he was born in. (not raised- he was never raised the zombies got to his family before he could grow up-)) sketchbook, and he got it as soon as he told his mom he had an interest in drawing. he never was the best at it, but it helped him keep... some of his sanity. (please ignore the torn and blood covered pages.) scar's notepad, really only ever used to tally days and tally kills. (he lost track after the third year) scar's plush cat keychain. it was originally just a cat plush, a toy he's had since he was a baby. after losing his family, (oh how they loved him. they are the reason he lived. he doesn't know if he hates them.) he frankinstiened it into a keychain for his backpack. it's covered in dirt, and blood, and any zombie that dares to touch it gets killed even more brutally. No One touches jellie. many years later, he still has these objects. it's in an old, blood and dirt covered travel bag in the deepest depths of his closet. damn i made this a whole lot longer than i anticipated

GOD YES.

Imagine scar writing or drawing in the notebook in blood. maybe he just lost his pencil and didn't have anything else on him but... he does have a wound thats still bleeding.

GOD I LOVE THIS WHOLE THING YEA.

Also consider the idea that jellie isnt an actual cat but just the plushie. consider the hermits thinking scar is talking about an old pet he lost. but there was never really any pet, was there. it was just him and his blood stained cat plushie that brough him the only comfort in his childhood.

This also goes well with the clip from lim life where theyre doubting that jellie is actually real

[justatypicalwizard]

Too late | Giyuu oneshot

1,6k, angst, request from a Wattpad user

The evening was warm, light breeze dancing in Giyuu's short, black hair, whispering the summer's last goodbyes. Soon the fall would take over. The man crouched upon a tombstone, praying silently.

The road was full of terror and mischief, lingered with hatred and sadness. Yet, you knew what you had to do. Even though other demon slayers gave you malicious looks, never trusted you and didn't spare any care, you knew what you had to do.

To wield a sword being a demon yourself was a disaster and a miracle. Who would be stronger and more resistant to any pain and loss than a demon? That's why you knew what you had to do.

You were never allowed to enter the corps headquarters nor to meet the master in person. After several months of showing up wherever you could and assisting anyone you were able to, even if they cried for you to go away, to let them die a honourable death, you knew what you had to do. All the death wishes were fake, tainted with adrenaline and hatred. You knew later, when they wake up in the butterfly estate they will be grateful. Not thanking you for saving them but at least grateful they're still alive.

After saving tons of slayers from death you were finally acknowledged. First it was a woman surrounded by butterflies, you learned she's the Insect Pillar. She came cold and kept to herself but at least she listened to you. Her eyes were full of interest as she heard your story out and promised to discuss your existence with the others. You knew it could end two ways- they would accept you or kill you.

After that a black haired man came to tell you you're on a trial, as if your previous good deeds didn't count, whatever, at least they gave you something. You were furious, after doing so much you were still untrusted and shoved away.

Tears started to wield in your eyes, your frustration overflowing from your small yet strong body.

''You crying?'' He asked, shaking you out of your thoughts.

He cared that you cried?

''I've done so much good and you still hold me hostile.'' Looking this man deep in the eye you spotted no emotions at all, no hatred, not fear, no joy, no soul. Nothing.

Even though tears still tainted your cheeks, you cracked a laugh. How can he look at you like that? You're the demon, you should be wiped out of emotions and here the two of you are. You were crying over not being accepted by a bunch of humans and the actual human looked like he didn't give a damn about all this.

''What's your name? Maybe I can assist you more if I need to prove myself?''

''Giyuu.''

The flowers that the man brough lay down on the tombstone. He threw away the old, witted ones not standing the sight of your memorial being a mess. You were always so organised and clean, proceeding with your missions from the beginning to the end, always afraid but never letting it take control over you. He regretted so much never fighting more for you.

Giyuu spotted your figure sitting under a tree, close to the entrance of the headquarters but far enough for the wisteria not to kill you. Your eyes were closed and back rested on the bark. You looked like you were sleeping but the man knew well that you were just waiting.

When his footsteps became familiar to you, your body rose, ready to assist him in yet another mission.

At that time your person did mess a bit with his head but not enough for it to make him think. It was just something lingering at the depths of his mind, present but quiet. You on the other side learned how to love the man. From all the slayers he was the only one who acted normally in front of you. As long as you can call lack of emotions normal but oh well. He was the only one who didn't shudder in disgust at the sight of the sword in your hand.

Maybe you lacked something you left in your past life. Maybe you were in love and the emotions were still inside you, searching for a substitute to the lover from before. Maybe you were more human than demon? Maybe you were just weird?

It didn't matter to you. You were happy that you could still feel love.

Someone came by, Giyuu didn't spot it too hung up on the stone before him. The white haired man crouched down and sighed.

''I still can't believe it.'' He muttered under his breath seeing the longing in his friend's eyes.

You coughed up, trying you best to hold your breath in. The burning sensation of wisteria sunk in your lungs. They didn't care, dragging you towards the headquarters, shouting into your ears. It all came to you as a piercing ringing, nothing but a head splitting noise.

Murder?

Betrayal?

Monster?

You were not sure whether you got the words right, too poisoned.

''You need to let it go. 'Ts ten years.'' Sanemi wanted to pat the man's back but stopped mid air.

Was he in the position to say such a thing?

Giyuu has been thinking about it for a long time now. The demon girl, Y/N, was like honey to him. Even though he didn't show it, he felt it. The care with which she followed his steps on a mission, the sweetness of her voice when she spoke to him, the love in her eyes when she met his. It was all intoxicating for him, poisoning nearly. First, she was a demon, second he was too afraid to lose someone, again. But wouldn't these two things work together? Who on earth could be stronger than a demon? Who could kill her apart from the corps themselves? They wouldn't do that, not now, not when she is such a help. She's safe, she's here for him, she can be with him, he can love her and not tremble with fear every night that he'll find her dead the next morning.

He loved her and he knew it. Now he realised, he can actually give her love, he's ready for it.

''You know what, never mind, I'm sorry.'' Sanemi stepped away and left, too guilty.

Less wisteria means a little bit more consciousness. You wished it wouldn't come back, your senses. They were standing upon you, judging you every possible way. Some had sad, defeated faces, other smug I-knew-it looks, especially that white haired one.

''Y/N you swore you'd never hurt a human.'' Someone started to chant, you didn't even know who. ''And you broke the promise killing a ten year old boy on you miss...'' Your head started to spin once more, the wind blew more wisteria smell that stung your nostrils. ''The neck has a clear cut and the rest is half eaten...'' You tried to look up, no hope for it.

Giyuu came in time to see his life fall apart for the last time. He was standing in the gate leading to a plaza. A lot of people gathered around a small and familiar figure. The, of so well known, Wind Pillar was just about to swing his blade...

...and so he did.

Your head rolled down the path, eyes closed due to the burning sensation. Giyuu's body stuck to the ground, not able to move seeing your form disintegrate into the night sky. It was the end of the season, a warm breeze danced in his long black hair, whispering summer's last goodbyes, and your last goodby.

A tear rolled down his pale cheek when he remembered your face. Would you survive till today if they didn;t rob you of this possibility? He didn't know but he would bless every second he would have had with you.

The air became colder, leaves started to change colours, animals slowly prepared for the long sleep. Sanemi sat in shade, on a terrace gripping his sword to the point his knuckles became white. He was wrong, what he did went well with his life mission but deep in his heart it felt wrong. Shinobu and Mitsuri tried to speak to Giyuu but he would put them off. The rest of the Hashira and slayers didn't even try anything, there was no point in doing so.

The demon they decapitated, Y/N, she was innocent. They found the demon who really did it, it even showed them the place where he buried the real sword that he used to kill the boy. The demon laughed at their faces, chanting that he pleased Muzan, please him so well, he killed the slayer's weapon and so on.

If only they didn't act so abruptly, if only Giyuu was there when it all happened, maybe he would be able to stop them from making a hectic decision. Maybe, maybe, maybe. There was nothing else to do now other than ask for forgiveness, especially when they learned he was in love with her. The moment he said it, with that blank face they knew the small spark behind his eyes that lit in her presence was gone forever. It would never come again, no matter what happened.

Giyuu rose from his position, saying his last prayers.He crumbled the hem of his clothes in his pale hands looking down on the tombstone.

''I really look forward to meeting you again Y/N. No matter when it comes, I know it will someday. For now, see you again tomorrow.'' He kissed his fingers and placed them on the cold stone. ''I love you and always will.''

[sticktopia]

Chance Encounter

One day out in the forest, Chosen met a child. Little did he know, This child was going to change his entire life.

The concept of this idea comes from one of my friends on discord.

Chance Encounter (An Animation VS Fanfic)

Chosen growled as he paced in the forest. His supposed ‘partner in crime’ had gone off without him. Again. It always irritated the black hollow head when his friend would randomly leave to go destory something whenever she felt like it. Of course, whenever Chosen brough up this concern, Dark would wave him off. Claiming that she couldn't help the strong desire to destroy that lingered within her code.

“Be glad that I’m going to destory another website and not you.” She’d scoff. Just thinking of her stupid little excuse pissed Chosen off.

“God damn it! She’s so freaking irritating!!!” Chosen shoutted as he picked up a stone and pitched it at a tree. Unfortunately, Chosen had missed, and the rock had hit something else instead.

“Ow!” Chosen froze as he heard the voice. He was about to leave when the voice cried out.

“Wh-who threw that!!” A small purple stick figure suddenly appeared from the brush. Chosen tensed as the kid stared up at him, tears in their eyes.

“Who are you? Did you throw the stupid rock at me?!” The child was obviously trying to act all tough. This amused the hollow head slightly.

“Yeah I threw the rock. Not at you. What’s your deal anyway kid?” Chosen turned to the purple child. The kid squeaked and tensed up, stepping back a bit.

“Y-you hit me! You're a meanie!!” They shoutted, throwing the rock back at the hollow head. The rock simply bounced off of Chosen, like a light tap.

“Yeah. Whatever.” Chosen stared at the teary eyed child. They sniffled and tried not to cry. As Chosen looked them over with his eyes, he noticed that the kid was holding their left arm. Was that where Chosen had hit them?

“Did I hit your arm or something? You've just been holding it for a while.” Chosen commented. The kid released their injured arm.

“I-I’m fine! I-I can still fight you!” The kid then put their fists up, taking on a sloppy fighting stance. Chosen scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Mmm, sure. Go home kid. Before you get even more hurt.” Chosen said as he turned to leave. But the kid was determined. Giving a loud battle cry, the purple child ran as fast as their little legs could go, holding a fist to punch the stranger before them. However, they couldn't even land a punch before Chosen turned and pined them to the ground.

“AH!” The kid cried as Chosen applied pressure to their injured shoulder.

“You still wanna fight now kid?” Chosen growled, his sharp, yellow eyes peircing into the child’s soul. They kicked and cried, begging Chosen to let go of them.

“I-I'm sorry!! I'm sorry! Don't hurt me again!! I-I’ll be good this time!!” Chosen furrowed his brow. Again? This time? He’d never met this kid till now. Once Chosen removed his hand from the kid’s shoulder, they flipped onto their hands and knees, pathetically crawling away.

“I-I’m sorry…” They cried, leaning against a tree, holding their arm once again. Chosen stared at the child. He was about to ask the kid what they meant when the kid spoke again.

“I-I'll be stronger next time! P-Please don't hurt me anymore! I’ll be good! D-don't put me in the closet again!!” Chosen felt his chest tighten as those words came out of the kid’s mouth. Chosen began to get flashbacks. Their words brought back horrible memories that Chosen had been suppressing for years. The abuse, the torture, the suffocation of being chained down, shoved into a box and forgotten about. Chosen blinked back into reality, The child he had hurt was still crying against the tree. Chosen would never be able to explain why he did what he did next, but he felt his body suddenly wrap around the child.

“Wh-what are you doing?!” The kid cried, weakly truing to push the Hollow head away.

“I-I'm so sorry…” The child stopped struggling.

“Wh-what-”

“Someone is hurting you… Someone is hurting you like someone hurt me… I.. I can't stand by that, I’m sorry…” Chosen whispered. The small child began to cry once more.

“R-really… Your dad hits you too…?” They wept.

“Yes… my… “Father” used to keep me in a box. He would throw me around and keep me chained down…” Chosen breathed as he remembered those moments.

“My dad locks me in the closet when I don't fight him right…” The kid sniffled. “H-he hits me so hard that I have to go to the hospital…”

“Tch. No one should have to go throught that…” Chosen growled to himself, hoding the kid tighter. They winced at the pressure to their. Chosen quickly loosened his grip.

“Crap, I forgot about that. I-I didn’t hurt you too bad did I?”

“N-No… I think…” The kid rolled his sleeve up to reveal a nasty bruise that the rock had left on their shoulder. Chosen was about to offer help when he noticed all the other cuts and bruises on the kid’s arm.

“D-did your father do all this to you…?” The kid looked away and pulled his sleeve down. Their silence was all the confirmation Chosen needed.

“Ah, kid-”

“Purple.”

“What?”

“M-My name…. Is Purple…” Purple whispered. Chosen was silent. He simply nodded.

“Purple… Are you ok…?” Chosen softly asked. Purple shrugged.

“I-I think so… It’s not the worst that’s happened to me.” Chosen flinched. How could a child so young go through such terrible things? It pained chosen’s heart to know that he contributed to the pain of this kid.

“So… What’s your name…?” Purple suddenly asked. Chosen tensed. He didn't want the kid to be afraid of him anymore than they already were.

“I… Don't have a name…” Chosen whispered.

“Oh… I’m sorry…” Purple muttered. Chosen sighed.

“No. It’s fine. You're fine.” Chosen said as he looked down at the kid. He stared into their big golden eyes. It reminded Chosen of the stars, the thing chosen used to represent freedom.

“I-I have to go home now…” Purple said as they stood. Chosen watched as the kid shakily stood on their feet.

“I-It was nice to meet you.” Purple said with a little smile. Chosen smiled as well.

“It was nice meeting you too Purple.”

From then on, Chosen and Purple continued to meet every day. Together, the pair would vent their issues, release their tears, or sit in each other's silent comfort. Chosen would never admit it, but he was quite fond of the child. Maybe it was the connection through abuse, maybe it was the mutual understanding of each other’s emotions. Whatever it was, chosen enjoyed every moment with purple.

Then one day, Purple stopped coming. Chosen would stand and wait for hours, just in case Purple was running late. But as the days turned into weeks, Chosen realized that his friend was not going to come back. Anxiety spiked in his heart as possibilities ran through his head. Had their father killed them? Did they move away? Were they simply sick of seeing Chosen? There were so many questions and no answers were to be given. Defeated, Chosen went back home. He never returned to the forest after that day. There was no reason to anymore.

[arachnaesghost]

I JUST WATCHRD ONE PIECE STAMPEDE AND WAS FIRE-ACE AN ILLUSION BROUGHT TO LIFE BY THAT GIRL? IVE SEEN CLIPS OF IT AND ALWAYS THOUGHT IT WAS LIKE A MANIFESTATION OF ACES SPIRIT OR SOME SHIT BROUGH THROUGH HIS TIES TO HIS DEVIL FRUIT AND SABO AND LUFFY BUT YOURE TELLING ME IT WAS JUST SOME DEVIL FRUIT POWER??? IM SO BUMMED. I MEAN THERES EVEN A PRECEDENT (imma be real idk if that's the right word or if I spelled it right) OF GHOSTS/SPIRITS OF LOVED ONES IN ONE PIECE AT LEAST IN THE ANIME WITH BELLEMERE AT COCOYASHI WITH NAMI AND ACE IN THE TIME SKIP WHATEVER WITH LUFFY WHYYYYYYY. EVEN IF THEYRE NOT LITERAL GHOSTS AND JUST LIKE VISIAL REPRESENTATIONS OF LIKE THE MEMORY OF A LOVED ONE ID PREFER THAT TO THIS! I MEAN ITD HONESTLY MAKE SENSE FOR LUFFY TO LOOK AT SABO SURROUNDED BY FLAMES AND THINK/IMAGINE/REMEMBER ACE!! THATS WHERE ACE WAS SUPPSED TO BE FUCK IM CRYING NOW. IDK WHY I'M SO UPSET UTS NOT CANON ANYWAYS BUT THERES SOOO MANY GOOD EDITS AND SHIT WITH THAT SCENE AND THIS HAS KINDA LESSENED THEM A LITTLE NOW THAT I KNOW THE CONTEXT.

[secretariatess]

Arvek 13

           After lunch, Lord Talith felt it necessary to take the princes on a tour of the manor, explaining everything in detail. His wife did not join them in the tour, saying something about retiring to her room.

           Arvek politely pretended to listen, only catching words here and there enough to ask about something more, to continue the illusion.  Instead of devoting his attention to learning about the significance of the bulls present in an ebony goblet displayed in the second parlor that was shipped all the way from across the see, he tried to commit to memory the layout of the building.

           Certainly Talith wanted him to remain as the estate, as it would mean less trouble for him when the king arrived.  Arvek couldn’t imagine Talith just letting him walk out, even if his attempts were more passive.  Even so, Talith had no real authority over Arvek.  All he really had was the hope that Arvek would listen to Masitof’s orders.

           He defied his father once to pursue Selim.  What made Masitof think he wouldn’t do it again?  Especially if he gave Arvek no reason to believe that their conversation would be in any way productive?

           As soon as Talith left him alone, Arvek resolved to find his way out, choosing the path of least resistance to avoid conflict.  And whatever dramatic performance Talith would pull.

           Cor, on the other, seemed enraptured by all that Talith had to show them.  His questions were certainly more in depth than Arvek’s, and it kept Talith distracted long enough for Arvek to take his time in memorizing the room.

           They had not finished the very detailed tour by the time dinner was served, so Talith occupied them with describing everything else.  During the dinner, Arvek felt a great rush of sympathy for Talith’s wife.  She was not quiet because that was how she was, but rather because that was how she had to be.

           When dinner was finished, Talith brough them to his library, taking about an hour to brag about it -though it honestly was not as impressive as the royal library back at the capitol- before lowering himself into an armchair next to the fire and drifting off into sleep, leaving the brothers to look around at all his titles themselves.

           It was an opportune moment to leave.  But after days of travel and eating what could be bought or found, and nights spent on hard beds and hard ground, Arvek looked forward to the prospect of sleeping somewhere comfortable that night, and perhaps something good to eat in the morning.  For all of Talith’s chatter throughout dinner, it was no matter given how well his cook cooked.

           Arvek did not do a good job of hiding his thoughts from his face, as Cor picked up on what he was thinking rather quickly.

           Setting the book he was browsing down, Cor sighed and came over to Arvek’s side.

           “Don’t do it,” Cor said, his tone tired.

           “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Arvek answered coolly.  He moved away, pretending to take interest in a book that he was certain he had already read before.

           “You know what I’m talking about,” Cor said, following after him.  “I think we should listen to our father and wait for him here.”

           Arvek felt his lip curl in disgust.  But he made no response.

           “I know you’re concerned about Selim, but if you leave, Father will take it out on Lord Talith,” Cor pointed out.

           “I have more care for Selim than I do Talith,” Arvek said, opening the book and scanning the pages.  He had read this book before.

           “Probably not the best approach for someone in line for the throne,” Cor reminded him.  “You will have to deal with him when you’re king one day.”

           Arvek hated that he was right.  He hated even more that Cor was pointing out something he didn’t want to acknowledge: He was becoming so very careless about his position.  A gripe he often had about Selim.

           Knowing he didn’t have an argument with a lot of weight, he kept quiet, staring intently at words he struggled to comprehend.

           “If Father comes all the way out here for you, then perhaps you could convince him to do something more about Selim,” Cor said.  He was a little tentative, a little surprised that Arvek had not yet said anything.  “After all, at that point, he’ll have little to use against you. He’d already be in Chester, and the Veil is only a day or two away. He would have no reason to at least do the bare minimum of sending soldiers. And that is if he actually intends on stopping you from continuing yourself.”

           “Of course he intends to stop me,” Arvek scoffed.  “He wouldn’t come out this way just to tell me of what is new.”

           Cor saw there was no point in pushing the issue.  Sighing, he left Arvek alone to go to another shelf.

           It was frustrating to know that Cor’s words had had impact.  Before he had been quite content with just letting Talith take the fall for his actions, but now that contentment was replaced by the sting of guilt.  Also, it wasn’t a good strategy.  Cor had made a fair point that Arvek didn’t consider.

           Or didn’t want to.

           He didn’t want to consider the idea that his father would actually help, now that Arvek had come this far.  It would certainly ruin the image he currently held.

           He slowly closed the book he held.

           It was a good thing that Cor came along, if only to make sure Arvek remained grounded.

           And to think he accused Cor of just wanting an adventure.  Seems he was the one who wanted it all along, not Cor. Instead of looking further into the options that would appease the king by keeping him at the capitol and also set his and his mother’s minds at ease with knowing someone was looking for Selim, he had chosen to go out himself.  He had chosen to find Selim.

           But that was not a role for him.  His role was to wait at the palace, handling problems that threatened the kingdom in the meantime.  

           He slid the book back on the shelf.  Inside himself, he felt something deflate, robbing him of will and energy.  

           His fingers trailed off the spine of the book.  When wood met his fingers, he slowly turned and headed towards the great fireplace.  He stood beside it, staring into its depths as he tried to figure out where he went wrong.

           He did not know how long he stared at the fire.  If a clock chimed to let the manor know of the time, he did not hear it.  It seemed like an eternity of reflection.  But the period of reflection was marred when Lord Talith jolted awake and looked around.

           “Oh, my deepest apologies!” he said, with the same dramatic flair.  “I do not know what came over me. I would suppose the two of you would very much like to retire for the evening! Where are my manners . . . .”

           He jumped out of the chair, calling for Cor and gesturing for them to follow him. Arvek took one last moment to give the fire one last deep stare before following after him.

           Talith was not as chatty as he led them to their rooms for the night, though there were a couple of occasions where he stopped to call attention to some carved decoration in the bannisters.

           When they arrived on the floor their rooms were located and placed in front of the doors, Arvek turned to Talith.  “Lord Talith,” he began.

           For a second, Talith didn’t respond.  Arvek wondered if he had gotten the name wrong.  Then Talith started, realizing that Arvek had been speaking to him.

           “Oh, right, yes!” he said with a little too much enthusiasm.

           Brushing by it, Arvek asked, “You wouldn’t happen to know of any healer who uses magic by the name of Lia, would you? She would come from the Veil.”

           Talith shook his head.  “There are quite a few healers with magic from the Veil. I know none of them by name. Never had to deal with them.”

           And with that, any of hope of Arvek himself finding Selim died.

[chisatowo]

Once again thinking abt unit swap 25ji very very hard

[asgardwinter]

steve harrington and keep driving by harry styles (my two greatest loves)

here we go... thank you for the request!!

occasional

summary | It all happened so naturally, you knew it would hurt when it eventually reached the end of the road.

pairing | Steve Harrington x fem!Reader

warnings | fluff and angst, suggestive themes, allusions to semi-public sex (yeah, idk how we got here), sort of hopeful/bittersweet ending, this sort of delays season 4 for a year so no spoilers :)

word count | 1,3k (blurbs? i don’t know them anymore)

author’s note | idk, i listened to this song in an insane loop and sort of went with a summer love vibe because no one could stop me, but now i’m sad and i want these two to have a very happy ending… anyways, see it for yourselves :)

song: keep driving by harry styles

Steve Harrington Masterlist | join the taglist! | Main Masterlist

After moving out for college life in Hawkins felt weird.

Going back to your old home for Summer Break brough not only all the memories from your high school year but all related to The Upside Down events and it was… well, it felt even more weird.

You went to Family Video first, a way to get back to the Hawkins atmosphere after a good while you were gone — your mom would certainly kill you if you spent the break anywhere else that wasn’t her home again. There was no way to contain your surprise as you walked inside and saw Steve Harrington on the front of a shelf organizing movies, all that while involved in a playful conversation with Robin Buckley, one of your old friends.

With the Mind Flayer incident being distant by almost a year you ignored the last occurrences of your last month in Hawkins — that included the unexpected friendship between Steve and Robin and how he somehow knew who you were after surviving together in a Russian Military Base.

“I can’t believe it!” Robin said in the middle of whatever Steve was trying to reason with her. “It’s been months since I’ve heard from you.”

She came from behind the counter to give a hug, one that was very much welcomed by you. You truly missed her, distance made things harder and you feared the day one of your only friends in that small town would move on completely from you.

But at least you were still safe from that, it seemed.

“I didn’t mean to take so long to come back here and the phones… they don’t collaborate with a poor girl with too much gossip to tell.” You started to justify your every action before she just smiled and interrupted you.

“I get it, but I’m happy to see that you’re still alive.” Robin was still Robin, you grinned.

“Hi.” Steve finally came from behind the shelf, running his hand through his hair and smiling at you — why was he smiling at you like that? “Long time no see, Y/n.”

“Oh, hi Steve. I’ve been a little bit distant.” You heard Robin scoff the moment “little bit” left your mouth.

“So, now that you’re here, how can I help you?” He gestured around him, making you remember what your intentions were at first.

“Right! I came here to look for a… movie.” You told him the obvious, only five minutes inside the store and robin had enough material to tease you. “Don’t even say anything, Robin! Would you have any suggestions for an indecisive person?”

“Well, I wouldn’t be working here if I didn’t have one now would I?”

Robin told you later he would.

…

If you told any past version of you that you’d be one of those girls in Steve’s car you’d laugh in your own face. But there you were, during a summer break and very much occupied laying in the backseat. It seemed to be one of your favourite pastimes along with finding an excuse to go to the video store and talk with Robin, both of you teaming up against Steve.

Of course, she didn’t know about the other stuff that kept filling your daily schedule, but no one knew about that and it was better like that.

The “secret” rendezvous didn’t start as something intentionally hidden. Going to your house or his house when parents weren’t there was just easier after two casual encounters at a diner. It wasn’t hard to figure out you told no one about it and he neither, so that became a silent agreement.

Yes, the boy you considered a complete douchebag through all your High School years and avoided any possible conversation was now quite busy with the buttons of your blouse and not taking his lips away from yours. Things were different then a year ago.

There was no need to make a big deal about something with an expiration date.

 But in those moments when you were so lost in each other you allowed yourself to think what would be like if it could last, just to hide the question in the darkest corner of your mind.

No need to make a big deal about something with an expiration date.

…

It was comfortable, that’s why you allowed it to happen.

Talking with Steve was good. He knew about the Upside Down even before you did and there were no lies about how you’d spent the last summer fighting a monster from another dimension. Steve was fun and charming, you felt safe with him even as the shadow of your departure came looming above you two.

And that was something you avoided talking till the last minute, you wouldn’t say you forgot because it was completely intentional.

That was the problem with things that flowed way too easily at the start, between wine glasses and late night drives the important stuff kept left out to create a new problem in the future, the type of problem you only stop ignoring until it’s too late.

“I got back to Washington tomorrow.” You suddenly announced.

Steve hit the breaks almost as fast as it, making you gasp with surprise since you were in the middle of the road.

“What?” That was the only thing he could think of asking. What on Earth were you saying?

“I’m going back to college tomorrow.” You repeated it, the nonchalant tone made his heart clench playfully and he had no idea yours was hurting in the exact same way.

“And you just tell me now? Less than 24 hours earlier?”

Your silence only seemed to make things worse, but there was nothing you could do. “You never asked me when I was going back.”

“It is because I was pretty sure you were going to tell me eventually!”

“Well, I didn’t.”

“Now I know.”

The quiet and uncomfortable atmosphere was a stranger in that car, but helped the tension to rise more every second you both spent with months shut.

“You should pull out the road.” You suggested in a whisper voice.

Steve took your suggestion in silence and all you wanted was to get out of his car and disappear.

“I guess this is it.” Steve said, pulling on your driveway and parking right in front of your house.

“Steve…”

“No.”

“Hey! I’m sorry, okay? I liked every moment we spent here. A lot. Probably more than I should.” You confessed to him even if Steve avoided looking in your eyes. “But we always knew this wouldn’t work.”

“Just say you don’t want it, assume you think it’s better this way but don’t say ‘this couldn’t work’ like me thinking it could work is the craziest idea you ever heard.” Steve said bitterly and you had no reaction to it besides the tears pooling in your eyes. “If you really wanted…”

“Now this is bullshit, Steve!” You exploded and his face fell.

“What did you say?”

“It makes no sense! It doesn’t mean I like you less, it just means there’s so many things that aren't in our favour right now and… God! I’ll miss you like hell, but I can’t even keep in touch with my friend, Steve.”

“You… like me?”

You frowned at his question. “I like you, I really do. Like, so much I know young me would slap me if she found out.”

“Wow, now that’s a pretty huge risk.” Steve joked and relief washed over you seeing his attempts at going back to your usual behavior.

“I know.” You smiled sadly at him.

The silence was back, the tension had dissipated but the weight of the words that were said was impossible to ignore.

“Well see how it goes. I…” Your rambling was cut off by a soft kiss, also a melancholic one. You wouldn’t dare to say it was a goodbye kiss, it was more of a don’t-wait-another-year-to-come-back-or-I’m-going-to-find-you-myself type of kiss.

“How many days till Winter Break?” Steve asked you when your eyes were still closed.

You didn’t even bother to answer the question, just pulled his lips back to yours by the collar of his uniform.

Taglists:

Everything Stranger Things: @emiscrying @wheresantarctica

[rae-blogging]

pairing: jay park x fem! reader

w.c.< 500

warnings: jay is a jerk, mentions of a bet and violence, also reader isn't comfortable with people touching her (it's nothing sexual, she just doesn't usually like it)

a/n: please don't let anyone treat you like this, the members in my fics are fictional and i do not believe anyone from enhypen would do this. also this is a repost from my previous blog as well.

Jay is your favourite person in the world. You love Jay. He's an incredible person who looks after the boys without batting an eye or reprimanding them for the constant chaos that they are (You're quite sure you'd have lost your patience months ago), he cooks you your favourite dish when you can't be bothered to after a particularly tiring day, he sings to you with his fingers gently stroking your hair when you can't sleep, he tells you he loves you when you are too exhausted to say it back, but he knows you do too.

You know Jay, you know him better than you know anyone else in the room, where you stand surrounded by your friends and your boyfriend. Your bruised boyfriend. Punched by his own best friend.

He won't talk, you realise grimly, he can't be bothered to.

The knuckles on his left hand are turning white from how tight he's holding the money. The money he took - won - as the bet to get to you fall in love with him.

You've seen movies like this before, you always thought if something like that happened to you, you'd be enraged, too riled up by your anger to watch your words like the protagonists do. You aren't. You aren't quite sure how angry you look, but you don't feel angry at all. You feel a hollow pit forming somewhere in your chest, your body is only upright because Heesung is holding you right now, your mind is blank, probably trying to grapple with the reality while you want to instinctively run towards the boy, who isn't even looking at you.

'Are you fucking crazy?' Jake is screaming – or maybe Sunghoon, you aren't sure.

'I didn't think anything would happen. She was such a loner, and immediately jumped up at the chance to go out.' Jay shrugs lightly.

Heesung lets go of you, pulling your boyfriend by his collars saying things you can't quite register anymore. Your mind is stuck on a loop, all you can hear are Jay's words even as you remember the memory of him asking you to be his girlfriend on your third date at the nearby cafe.

Your eyes fill with tears, you want to be angry, you want to scream at him for his outrageous audacity, curse him out, but all your lips will allow are whimpers.

Heesung pulls you closer, slowly rubbing your back, glaring at Jay. Jake sighs looking at you before turning away and walking off, his fists clenched tightly. You wonder why he's angry, you're sure Jay will still be his friend. Jay is very loyal to his friends, and they're all bound to make up soon.

Jay looks irritable, leaning on one foot and then another constantly.

'Can we just get this over with?' He finally looks at you, his voice is flat and you can't detect a trace of regret.

'Okay,' You mumble even as Sunghoon mutters curses beside you.

'Okay, what else do you-' your voice breaks a little, and you breathe in quickly to prevent the sobs, 'What do you want to end?'

Jay still seems disinterested at best, but he's fiddling with the fingers of his right hand, and he takes in a short breath to compose himself when he hears your sob.

'This. This relationship or whatever.' He whispers, eyes drifting towards his friend's arms around you.

You don't usually like physical contact, you'd only let Jay do that.

'It is already over.' Heesung says coldly, squeezing your shoulders gently making Jay's gaze harden though he says nothing.

'Whatever. I'm leaving then. Will come back for my-' He starts but is stopped by your nod and voice, 'Heesung will bring it over. You don't have to - have to see me again.'

He gives a quick nod and turns away to leave, immediately wanting to turn back, but stops himself. After all, he brought this on himself.

'Let's get you some hot cocoa, ok?' He hears Heesung say as he leaves, his lips streching into a thin line.

You hate cocoa, Heesung should know that, but he doesn't. No one knows you like Jay does. Maybe that's why he knew exactly where it hurt.

[eyndr-stories]

To Be Human (FNAF SB fanfic) C1 - It Is ALIVE

In Summary:

In a distant future where humans no longer roam the Earth and the sentient robots they left behind are left with little to no clues as to the lost history of their inherited world, Sun and Moon take up the title of scientists and endeavor to create their own human in their lab (that's where you come in!) in order to shed light on the mystery that is the lost history of the human race. Shenanigans and existential dread ensue as you, a funky little lab creature given sentience, attempt to puzzle out what it really means to be human.

Things To Know (always read responsibly!):

Reader insert! Y/N is not used and gender is not specified, though later in the fic the reader receives a name (also, this reader does not have any boobas lol which I only mention because reader doesn't have a shirt when they first Emerge From The Science Tube Thing and I don't mean to curse / bless yall with the mental image of reader just runnin around titties out lmao)

hurt / comfort :^)

Non-specified relationships between reader and Sun & Moon, this can be read either as pals or more, totally up to your interpretation

enemies (sorta??) to friends (to perhaps more, up to u lol)

Sun & Moon are referred to with gender neutral pronouns

The reader and other characters are often in mortal peril! This world is full of Funky Creatures (other than you) and some of them attack and hurt several characters, including the reader character

On that note there is some blood and minor gore

Occasional swearing

Reader is at times kidnapped / brough to / kept in places against their will

Thoughts and ponderings of sentience and whether or not your thoughts and feelings are your own

Sun & Moon treat the reader as if they are not sentient / intelligent for the first few chapters

That's all I can think of, as always if you want me to add something please let me know!

Ao3 link: Right here!

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

C1 - It Is ALIVE

     There weren't words, at least not at first. Experiences were as indescribable as they were all encompassing. You didn't know what was happening, but you sure didn't like it, whatever it was.

     Slowly, things started to make sense, at least. There was a strange disconnect from these experiences, despite how world-shakingly intense they were.

     Bright.

     Sore.

     Pressure.

     Cold.

     There was a lot going on, as far as you could tell, but those things seemed to be the most pressing matters. Things became clearer, senses started kicking in.

     "Of all the unbelievably irresponsible-"

     "Yell at me all you want! I can't stand this any longer! The way they treated us… what they were planning to do, and it was only going to get worse, I had to!"

     "How you feel doesn't matter. What matters is that without a second thought you just flushed years worth of work and funding down the drain!"

     “At least we’ll be able to start over!”

     Speech, that's what this was. It was loud, but not as loud as that repetitive high pitched noise.

     Stifling darkness, interrupted by painful flashes of red light. Figures moving around quickly, and something bright shining an annoying blue light at you. All of this was distorted, not as it should be. Sight was becoming clearer and clearer.

     That cold was so heavy. As was the air… why was everything pressing down on you like this? This pressure, it hadn't been here before, though those memories felt distant now… and there was this goop coating everything, slowly dripping away through an uncomfortable grate below you. You’d been suspended in the goop until a few moments ago. You felt the barrier around you, the distortion. It was smooth and cool. There was a word for it, but you didn't quite have all the details sorted yet.

     Sound, sights, feeling, processing all of it all at once so suddenly, it was upsetting. It was overwhelming.

     A word came to you. Misery.

     "Listen to me, for once. It's done now, there's no undoing it. You've got two options. Either you're with me, or you're against me. What'll it be, Moon?"

     The arguing ceased. The absence of the noise was a relief. All you could do was slowly wake up to the world around you and do your best not to drown under the experience of it.

     "Think of the other attempts, what the investor did to them, how little they care about our ends. Think of why we started this in the first place," that same voice pleaded. “Answers. Responsibility.”

     "I hate this," the other voice grumbled. "How dare you make these decisions on your own, like these years in collaboration meant nothing to you."

     "That's rich, coming from you. Who was it again who brought on an investor without talking it over in the first place?"

     "Sun-! Ugh. This is not the time for this. We have minutes to get everything together and get out of here."

     "…Does that mean you're coming with me?"

     "What choice do I have?"

     There was another stretch of silence.

     You were starting to get a grip on things, slowly but surely. As the moments dragged on, everything slowly became more and more bearable. You became aware of yourself, of the physical form you had autonomy over. You were so weird- long in places, squishy in most areas, a little pointy in others. Some things bent and others didn't. limbs and digits, it was so much, and you hadn't figured out how it all worked just yet.

     "Hurry, help me with this. If we disconnect this door we can go out the back way and buy ourselves more time," one of those voices said.

     There was movement and more noise. You were hardly paying attention anymore now that you were able to somewhat tune things out.

     Hands. Fingers. You bent these digits one at a time. You used your hands to gather more information, tactile, feeling. The distortion around you- glass, that's what it was- the remaining goop on you, and your own self. Fingers felt over your arms, your face, the stiff cloth shorts you were wearing. Something told you not to touch the things allowing you sight. Farther up, at the very top of you, something soft and silky. What was this??

     You ceased everything else, tuned everything else out, and focused entirely on the soft texture at the top of your head. The word was coming to you slowly and you pushed both hands into the softness. Everything else so far had been horrible, overwhelming, nearly painful, but this… this was nice.

     Hair. Soft hair.

     You pushed your fingers through it again and again, relieved at the positive experience. You kept this up, and slowly focused back on everything else around you, finding everything to be far more bearable as you kept up with the motion.

     There were two beings beyond the glass tube you were in. these two were moving quickly, gathering objects from the environment beyond the tube and gathering everything together in bags. They kept talking to each other, tones full of focus, irritation, and worry.

     You didn't care about these other noisy creatures. You wanted to get out of this tube, and preferably someplace quieter. You pressed one hand into the glass, gathering more tactile information. Too strong to push away. Too thick to push through. It encompassed you entirely, so you couldn't maneuver over it. The grate below you was much the same, too strong and too thick, unmoving under your hand.

     You looked again to the creatures on the other side of the glass. Why were they outside, and you were inside?? Hardly seemed fair.

     You considered communication. You could not get out of the tube on your own. You wanted assistance from these two beings, but you didn't have the complexities of speech worked out in your brain yet. How else could you communicate…?

     You used your physical form, as it was all you had to work with. You slapped your hand against the glass, almost immediately gaining the attention of both creatures.

     The brighter colored of the two made a startled noise and visibly jumped. The darker colored one seemed surprised as well, and exclaimed something that you didn't catch.

     Pat pat pat. You pat the glass again.

     "It's still alive. And it's awake?!" the bright one shrieked.

     "What did you do??" the dark one demanded.

     "What did I do?! I tried to sabotage the project, I didn't expect it to… oh, Moon. Oh, what do we do? What do we do??"

     "Calm down, Sun. Obviously we just leave it behind. We have more than enough to start over again," the darker, Moon, said.

     Wait. That's not what you wanted. You used both hands now to pat at the glass, somewhat frantically.

     "Leave it- you realize what they'll do to it," the brighter -Sun- said, horrified.

     "You should have thought of that before you made all these sudden rash decisions for us," Moon said.

     "Moon. We are not just going to leave it here. You're the one who's always going on about the responsibility of creation! This creation is ours. It's our responsibility. We can't leave it behind," Sun argued.

     Moon made a dissatisfied, angry sort of noise. "Using my own philosophy against me," they grumbled. "Fine, fine. But you're figuring out how to take it with us."

     Sun moved a hand around the thing emitting the bright blue light, and suddenly the glass tube was moving upwards away from you, and you watched it lift away with wide eyes.

     Finally, you got a clear view of the room beyond the tube. This cylindrical space was filled with sleek control panels and wires and shelves full of tools and vials. All things you were struggling to wrap your head around. There were crates and lots of tall tables and machines you couldn’t begin to understand the function of.

     Slowly, you understood more and more about the world around you, your brain slowly working out more and more information. This room was a facility of some sort, the words lab and science coming to you, but to what end, you had no idea.

     The walls were white and bare except for the multicolored wires running up and down them. Some wires hooked up to machines, others vanished into the walls or tangled together in jumbled messes. The glass tube had been right in the middle of the room, and you now felt very cold and exposed and unsafe, sitting out in the open right in the middle of this confusing environment.

     The two beings were clearer now as well. They were much bigger than you, and had more limbs. Four arms each, all eight working frantically to stuff items into a pair of large bags. They both had circular flat heads, but the mostly yellow one had faintly glowing triangles poking out of the edges of their head. The mostly blue one wore a pair of shiny goggles on their head. They both were wearing matching white coats, though Moon’s sleeves were rolled up, and Sun’s was neatly buttoned up.

     What caught your attention most was their skin. It wasn’t like your own, it was hard, smooth, shiny in some places, well worn in others, colors fading into dark grey. Metal, that’s that it was. These beings were made of metal.

     Suddenly, Sun moved quickly towards you, jolting you from your thoughts.

     PANIC, FOE, ATTACK, HURT.

     You flailed in a blind panic as Sun approached, then scrambled over yourself to move away, scurrying as quick as you could in the opposite direction. You acted on sudden overwhelming instinct, fueled by a heart-gripping energy. You climbed up on top of a table, getting that goop all over the poorly organized tools strewn about here.

     Moon eyed the scene warily as they kept packing. Sun, who'd been startled away, was now approaching again, much slower this time.

     "Ohhhhhkay, you're a lot more aware and active than I thought you'd be," Sun mumbled. They held all four hands out and took a few steps closer.

     You shied back, uncertain about what the hell Sun was wanting to do with you. When Sun continued advancing, you grabbed the closest item up off the desk and wound it back to throw it at Sun, threatening to turn the item into a projectile. Sun paused.

     “Oh my, please don’t throw that, it’s very expensive,” Sun said worriedly.

     “Sun, it can’t understand you,” Moon snapped.

     You scowled and threw the item at Moon.

     Moon yelped and fumbled, barely managing to catch it. Sun took this opening to dart forwards and grab you.

     You hissed and growled and thrashed, extremely displeased with this. Sun struggled, but they were bigger and had twice as many arms.

     “You can’t mean to transport it like that,” Moon said. They stuffed a few more things into a bag, then strapped the bag to their back.

     “Well I can’t exactly put it in a bag, now can I?!” Sun huffed, readjusting their hold on you, who very much did not want to be held.

     Moon thought for a moment while Sun continued to struggle.

     “Here. We’ll make use of the incorrectly sized cable you ordered after all,” Moon said, moving to a different desk. From underneath the desk they pulled out a long flexible spool of colorful cable.

     Sun wrestled you into cooperating while Moon fashioned a sort of harness around you, tied around your torso and shoulders with the long end of the cable tied in a knot at your back, where you couldn’t reach. Sun grabbed hold of the end of the cable, and just like that, you had been successfully tethered. The word ‘leash’ came to mind.

     Sun pulled on a bag, and quickly pulled you away from a table, where you were moments away from grabbing another makeshift projectile.

     “Is that everything?? You have our research backlog? Or records?” Sun asked.

     “It was the first thing I packed,” Moon assured. “If we have the time, we could run by the storage-“

     There was a frantic pounding at the door, and muffled yelling from the other side.

     “No time. We need to go,” Sun said.

     “Right.” Moon sighed. They cast one last look around the room, hesitating briefly, then hurried towards the other door.

     Sun followed, pulling you along with them. You attempted to resist, pulling at the cables and even flopping down onto the floor, but Sun pulled you along easily regardless. As all of you made your way out of the room and into a corridor, you reasoned you’d rather not be dragged, and reluctantly scrambled along behind Sun, quickly figuring out how walking was supposed to work.

     Everything was a blur. There were walls and doors and it was all so brightly lit compared to the room, it was all you could do to stumble along. You tried to shield your eyes with an arm, blocking out the visual input.

     All at once, the scenery changed. Without warning the air turned sharp and biting- cold. It was dark again, and the ground was no longer smooth. There weren’t any walls to bounce every little sound back and forth in an echoing cacophony of sensory overload, at least.

     You struggled to understand what you were seeing. There was meaning for these things around you, explanations, but your brain wasn’t finding the right answers fast enough.

     The ground was loose and soft and cold, though small bits were hard and pinched the bottoms of your feet as you stumbled along. Dirt.

     Moon and Sun navigated urgently through impressive pillars of something scratchy and hard. You brushed against one of these pillars as it flew towards you through the deep shadows around you, and winced as the speed of the collision scraped at your shoulder. Another word came to you. Wood.

     Beyond the shadows, beyond the shapes whirling past, beyond the sound of pursuers yelling behind you, was something vast. You looked up, and though it was partially obscured by a countless collection of small silhouetted objects, you could see that vastness expanding endlessly above you. It was full of dazzling lights.

     Stars.

     You tripped and flew forwards, crashing into the ground. Pain spiked through your hands and scraped along your arms and knees. You groaned as you struggled to get back up.

     “Oh, let me help-“ Sun said. They’d come to a halt instantly upon realizing you had fallen. Sun lifted you under the arms and waited for you to get your feet sorted out below you before they moved away. “Oh dear, is there any damage??”

     You squinted down at your limbs. Through the dark, you couldn’t be sure what was dirt and what was dried goop. Your palms and knees tingled unpleasantly.

     “HEY! GET BACK HERE!” someone hollered.

     Sun jumped. You both looked to see those pursuers rushing towards you, the head start you’d had wasted by the fall.

     “Oh no!” Sun turned and looked around in the direction they’d been running. Moon was nowhere to be seen, having left the two of you behind. “Oh no…”

     “Stop!! You’re being put in containment!” one of the pursuers yelled.

     Sun picked a direction and started running again.

     This time, you did your best to keep a better eye on where you were stepping, despite the entrancing beauty and the mesmerizing terror of the impossible cosmos hanging over you. Not only that, but it was so dark out, you could barely see five feet ahead of you. Without Sun's glowing rays casting a yellow glow over everything nearby, you doubted you'd be able to see your own hand in front of your face.

     Either the pursuers were slow or you and Sun were fast, or both. After a painfully long while of running, there were no sounds of pursuit behind you. There were also no traces of Moon to be seen anywhere either.

     You and Sun stopped to rest. Sun kept looking around and anxiously worrying the edges of their lab coat.

     “Oh… what should we do? Do we wait here? Try to find Moon? Try to find the shelter?” Sun muttered.

     You looked around. You didn’t particularly feel safe just sitting around out here. Maybe it was just the darkness. You couldn’t be sure who or what was out here with you. You stood back up and stared at Sun, hoping they would get the hint.

     “I suppose we can’t stay here… we might be found by the authorities,” Sun said. “Moon is smart. They’ll be able to find their way to the shelter. They’re probably already there.” Sun laughed lightly. “We should go there and join them. Or… wait for them.”

     Sun lead the way, now moving at a much more manageable pace. They kept looking behind them, checking on you, or for followers, or both.

     You kept glancing up at the stars. You could hardly look away. The sky was incredible. But… you couldn't help but feel like something was missing. You had no idea what.

     The two of you walked for a long time. Sun would hesitantly change directions slightly every now and then, weaving a worried and uncertain trail through the trees. Trees, that’s what these pillars were. You were in a forest.

     Finally, Sun stopped. You were concerned for a moment that Sun had at last realized you were hopelessly lost.

     “There it is!” Sun cried happily. They hurried forwards, leading you along behind them.

     The two of you approached a dome-like structure hiding at the edge of a clearing overgrown with grass tall enough to tickle your knees. Hexagonal shapes spaced evenly around the sides of the dome glowed with a friendly pale yellow light.

     The door lead to a small room, some kind of airlock. Once Sun and you were inside and the door was shut behind you, there was a hissing sound and a cold mist filled the small space. Then the mist dissipated and the door leading farther into the dome opened.

     Within the large singular room there appeared to be three distinct areas. The area by the door was wide open and the furniture appeared mostly for lounging, with chairs and small tables. The space in the back left looked to be for sleeping. There were several bunk cots and large storage containers and curtains hanging around the cots. The space in the back right was full of confusing equipment and machinery. There were shelves and counters and smaller containers.

     It all looked very clean and new, as if entirely untouched. Those hexagonal shapes allowed you to view the clearing and the woods outside, even though you remembered being unable to see in while you were outside.

     Sun let out a long sigh and dropped their bag by the door. They looked around. “…I guess Moon hasn’t made it here yet. They’ll probably show up any minute!”

     You looked to one of the windows. It was too dark out to see much, just the faint outline of the nearby trees. You pulled at the cables and stared at Sun.

     “Oh. Well…” Sun looked uncertain. “…Alright.” They went to the door first, tapping at the panel on the wall next to it. When it beeped, they turned back to you and carefully untied the knot at your back, loosening the cables enough for you to wriggle free.

     You stretched and rubbed at your skin where the cables had been digging into you all night. Then you finally got a good look at the rest of yourself. You were indeed covered in dirt and dry goop, which had left bright green spots of stickiness here and there. The dirt was dark, mostly purple in color. There was also something red staining your palms and knees.

     “Let’s get you cleaned up. Try not to touch anything for a moment,” Sun said.

     You got the sudden urge to climb over everything in sight just to frustrate Sun, but you were too tired to enact this plan. You plopped down onto the floor and waited while Sun rustled through their bag.

     “Okay, nothing super useful for cleaning in here,” Sun muttered. They went to the cots and shuffled through some of the storage boxes, eventually pulling out a small cloth. “Here we go!” Sun took the cloth to one of the confusing machines in the other back corner and produced a stream of water, which they used to soak the cloth. Finally, they returned to you and crouched down in front of you.

     You eyed Sun suspiciously, shrinking away.

     “Just hold still, alright?” Sun said, moving in with the cloth.

     You hissed and scooted farther away.

     Sun huffed. “I’m just trying to help!”

     You scooted even farther away, scowling at Sun.

     Sun looked at the cloth, then at you. They sighed heavily. “Look, you need to get clean, you’re absolutely filthy. If you won’t let me do it, at least do it yourself?” Sun held out the cloth.

     You eyed Sun and the cloth for a moment, thinking it over.

     Sun huffed. “What am I doing. Moon is right, you can’t understand me.”

     You frowned. You moved close enough to snatch the cloth from Sun, then backed away again.

     Sun stared at you. “…Can you understand me??”

     You weren’t sure how to reply in the affirmative. You still couldn’t speak, that was far too complex for you to figure out and you were too tired. Instead, you just started to scrub at your arms and legs, getting all the stuff off of you.

     Sun hummed and let you be to unpack some of the things in their bag, laying out papers and tools and small devices on the small tables.

     You finished cleaning yourself off. You dropped the stained cloth on the floor and got up to wander around and investigate.

     Most things in this space were smooth and hard. Some of the machines had interesting textures, and the walls felt somewhat grainy. The door was cold and would not open. You tried tapping at the panel by the door, like Sun had done, but you weren't able to make sense of the icons and symbols there. Moving on for now, you found the chairs were all soft, though not quite as soft as your hair. The cots, however, those were quite soft. You gasped happily and rubbed your hands along the squishy material. You pushed your arms and your face into the stuff, humming happily. You paused when Sun giggled.

     Sun had been watching you carefully the whole time, tapping away at some kind of small glowing device in their hands. You ignored Sun and eyed the cots. They were all equally as soft. You set your eyes on the top bunk. There were metal slats along the side of the bunk for convenient climbing, so you scurried up and climbed into the top cot, sprawling out onto the softness.

     It was so nice up there, higher up out of reach and surrounded by comfort. You felt your sore muscles relax. You sunk into the cot, moving your fingers in slow motions back and forth over the soft surface.

     You paused and stared suspiciously as Sun approached. You gripped the edge of the cot and hissed down at them.

     Sun held their hands up. “Easy! I just wanna show you something. See this pad here? If you tap it, it’ll turn the heater on.” Sun tapped a small glowing square set into the side of the cot. Sure enough, the softness suddenly began emitting heat. “See? Tap tap. Warm.”

     You gasped and sunk back down into the cot. You hadn’t even realized how cold you were. This was marvelous.

     “If you want, you can pull the curtain closed too. Like this,” Sun said, demonstrating by tugging on the curtain hanging from the ceiling.

     You pulled the curtain shut around the cot without hesitation. You heard Sun chuckle, then heard their footsteps padding away. You peeked out just to be sure. Sun had indeed gone back to the chairs and their papers.

     You curled up contentedly on the cot. You felt absolutely fantastic compared to the confusing chaos you’d been through earlier. This was bliss, it was joy and comfort and calm.

     You fell asleep within the minute.

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

TW: bullying, illness, suicidal ideation

Once when I was a little boy, my mother told me that I needed to be careful when I played with other children because I was bigger and stronger and I might hurt them. She said this realization hit me like thunder and I cried for hours and in that moment she knew I was a sensitive soul.

Once when I was a little girl, my mother told me the little boy on the playground who bullied me probably liked me and didn't know how to express it. Years later I sat down with her and explained that whether this was true or not, what I had need in that moment was for my mother to tell me that his behavior wasn't okay, and how how for all this time I had struggled to disentangle cruelty and affection. She cried and held me and acknowledged that she struggled with the same.

When I was a young lady, I brough home a young black man to meet my mother for a third date. She asked him about college and he explained he had dropped out due to years of struggle and to support his family after his father's death. She asked when he planned to return and he said he didn't. Afterwards we went to church and he and I snuch away to kiss in the memorial garden before service. As we sat in service, an elderly congregant told us we glowed with true love. He laughed and thanked her, I blushed and looked away. Ten years later, I introduced the same partner to my mother again, this time as my wife of 6 years. She asked about college again. I told her that degrees are just paper, and my wife is a human being full of love, passion, knowledge, and brilliance.

When I was a young man, a doctor told me she didn't know why I was sick, but I wasn't getting better. She said it was time for experimental treatments. I said I was afraid. She said fear makes sense. We'll do this on your time. But please understand your time is isn't what it once was. My wife held me while I cried and screamed and raged in the privacy of our home. I made her promise that if if my time came to and end, she wouldn't let it be slow and excruciated. She tried to refuse, and in my grief-ridden cruelty I wouldn't let her. She made me promise to try the treatments. They worked and I got better. There was nothing that could heal what I had broken except time.

As I lay on my second deathbed, I listened to the leaves rustle in the birch grove and knew peace I never had. This was slow too, creeping, painful, and without explanation. But I was surrounded by what I loved, and somehow I no longer cared. I lived a lifetime in whatever moments I had. And like magic, it ended as quickly as it began, like being renewed. I remembered the prayers I'd made before as a child and I repeated it in my head until I had the strength to stand.... Mi shebeirach avoteinu, m'kor hab'rahach l'imoteinu....

My world remains full of mysteries, challenges, doubts, and lessons, including many not yet even on the horizon. I face them knowing what I have faced before. Knowing that have been a match for every day this world has sent me so far.

And so do you.

[barricadebops]

Miserables Month Day 3: "Language"

Written for the Miserables Month @themiserablesmonth

Her Marius Pontmercy could easily be labeled sometimes as being somewhat an odd fellow.

Do not misunderstand her; for all his oddities, Cosette was still very much in love with him, but it could be quite confusing trying to parce through his rapid speeches and lines, many times only just being able to catch phrases such as "I love you" as Marius Pontmercy rushed on an on about his speech.

At the present, however, she believed her Marius was being unbearably rude. The last night they had seen each other in the garden, he had been coughing a great deal, which certainly would not do. How dare he worry her like so?

That annoyance at his rudeness, however, turned to fear as she awaited his presence in the garden, her Papa and Toussaint having already fallen deep into their sleep on account of the late hours of the night.

Why hadn't he shown up yet? She huffed and adjusted her bonnet, annoyance quickly growing once more. How very inconsiderate to keep her waiting like this! She would be having words with him later on, remind him of how important it was to be on time to receive a lady.

A snap of a twig outside the garden gates caught her attention, and already having recognized the familiar weight of the footsteps, she rushed forwards towards the great gates, and whispered out, "Monsieur, is that you?" When no response came, she crossed her arms and raised her voice just the slightest bit, "Look, monsieur, I am already cross with you, do not aggravate me any further. Honestly, is this any to treat a lady? Making her wait so long?" She turned around and refused to look at him; when no answer came, she turned back, confused. In the gleaming moonlight she could make out the lovely coiffed curls so prominent on Marius, but when she moved forward, the rest of the figure enshrouded by the night's dark jolted, slipping something between the grilled gates, and rushing away.

Curse her foolish lover and the late hour in which they meet. She could not even call out for him, lest she wake her Papa and Toussaint. Instead, she had to huff and watch as Marius Pontmercy hurried away, having avoided her on this night.

Just as she was about to head back into the manor, already planning out exactly what she would be writing in her notebook, the clouds around the moon shifted and spilled a sliver of light over what Cosette could now see was a folded slip of paper. A note.

She remembered, now, her Marius' penchant for sending notes and love letters, and as she unfolded the paper and caught sight of the scrawled lines, she could see that it was indeed the latter:

My dearest Cosette,

Oh that it is my woe that I should be separated from you on this night! I never wish to be parted from you, and yet it seems destiny seems to have other plans for my fate.

As has been the source of your consternation over these last few days, I have taken ill. The cough I had been so hoping would fade to nothing has unfortunately only grown harsher and worse. My friend, Courfeyrac—you don't know him—has taken notice to this, and has expressly forbid that I should journey outside our flat.

He is aware I have been seeing you, and yet he was still unrelenting in nt allowing me come meet when we usually do. He doesn't quite understand the workings of the heart—the most he's had have been quick flings. I beg you do not think of him poorly, however. At heart he is truly a good man.

The only way I was able to sneak out and give you this letter you now hold in your hands was when Courfeyrac had not yet returned from his meeting at the Musain—you won't know of those either. You know, he almost didn't go, was quite willing to stay by my side, but I forced him to go. He musn't miss out on his politics because of me.

My heart aches to be with you, my dearest. It is as they say—love is the best kind of medicine. I beg you hold me in your heart so that your Marius may return to you sooner than what may be too late.

Your beloved,

Marius Pontmercy

Sick? Oh how fretful! So she was justified, then, in her worry about that cough! If only she could have brough him into the manor, she would have had him in bed, at his side, ready should he need anything, and gently scolding his sleeping form for causing her such worry.

She made to fold up the letter and trudge gloomily back to her room, when a few more lines after the signature at the bottom appeared:

Je t'aime.

I love you.

Ich liebe dich

Je t'aime was all fine, and warmed her heart as she still stood, remaining in the garden. But these last two lines confused her—what on earth was this gibberish? Why did Marius believe she would know what it meant?

She hummed to herself as she stole back into the manor quietly so as not to wake Toussaint.

Perhaps her Marius had written it in a state of delirium. It was quite possible. Still, she kept the note safe on her little table.

_________________________________________

The next night was much the same. Cosette waited once more in the garden, a mix of anticipation and worry ebbing within her. If he did not return today, she thought she might faint of devastation—it was quite improper to worry a lady like this!

Again, as she spotted what she thought was Marius' curls, she hurried towards the gates, disappointed as that familiar figure rushed away once more.

She unfolded the note he had dropped with fear.

My dearest Cosette,

It seems as if this illness is a stubborn one. Courfeyrac, the friend I mentioned in my previous letter, brought over one of his friends today; he's training to become a doctor. He declared that it was nothing too serious and that I should be fine, however he was a little concerned with the way I had gone pale and started trembling. I purposefully neglected to inform him the reason for such a thing occurring was likely due more to his visit. I have not had many joyful memories of him from the first time we met.

I shall hope and pray sincerely that we meet tomorrow. I am sure God will grant me this one request. He does have much to make up for to me, anyways.

I beg you continue to think of me as I know you were doing yesterday. I could hear your whispers in the wind, calling for my name.

Your beloved,

Marius Pontmercy

And again, those three lines at the bottom, the last two still remaining a sequence of gibberish:

Je t'aime

I love you

Ich liebe dich

Her heart sunk. Her love was still ill, and so she would have to worry even more. She knew she shouldn't be concerned over whether her Marius was being well taken care of in his sick bed—the way he had spoken of this Courfeyrac made it seek as if he truly was in good hands—but she simply could not help it. She worried for her Marius. Oh curse this rainy season!

_________________________________________

That next night, Marius finally appeared back in her full sight.

The moon cast a glow over his face. His curls seemed a bit greasier, his face perhaps paler, and there were shadows that were rimmed beneath his eyes; all in all, however, Cosette still saw the handsome man who had caught her attention at the Luxembourg Gardens.

"Oh monsieur!" she cried, though in a quiet whisper as best as she could. She ran up to him, stopping short of embracing him and instead cupping her hands to his cheks. "How pale you've turned!" She drew back to glare at him. "It was very rude, you know, to have caught an illness like so; have you any idea the worry you caused me?"

It seemed as if Marius Pontmercy who was in the seventh heaven, could not muster words, only call out "Cosette!" in joy.

She crossed her arms and sat back down on her bench. "No, monsieur, I will not be having this at all! First with your illness worrying me and then your gibberish letters confusing me.".

At this, Marius Pontmercychimself turned confused. "Gibberish?" he repeated. "But I thought they were rather clear?"

Cosette waved a hand in dismissal. "Yes, yes, it was all fine and good, but then you wrote these three lines underneath, and I only know what the first one means." She drew out both the letters she had made sure to bring this time around. "See!"

She pointed to where he had written these lines, I love you and Ich liebe dich. "This is gibberish."

Marius Pontmercy glanced at the paper before softly chuckling. Cosette frowned.

"You only continue your rudeness," she said, annoyed. "I call out this serious problem, and you laugh."

When her Marius finally stops laughing and catches his breath, he further softens his eyes and said, "Cosette, I was telling you I love you."

Cosette raised an eyebrow. Yes, I know what that sounds like, but neither of them match je t'aime.

Marius knelt in front of her and took her hands in his own. A bold move. "That might be because they're in two different languages."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "Different languages?"

"Yes—you remember me telling you I'm a translator? I know English and German, those are the languages on the letters."

Cosette huffed once more and shifted her eyes to just to the right and far off from where Marius Pontmercy would sit. "Well how was I supposed to know this? And why write 'I love you' in three different languages when one is enough?"

Marius Pontmercy rubbed his thumbs on the soft skin of her palm. He tugged gently to bring her attention back to him. "It's because," he whispered softly, "I wanted you to know that in whatever language—French, English, or German—nothing will ever change this constant: that I love you."

Well, alright. Okay. So maybe Marius Pontmercy's thought of gibberish then wasn't so bad.

She smiled to herself. She would be keeping these letters safe. Especially as her Marius said, "In case it wasn't clear enough, however, let me express this in a language you understand," and he lifted the tip of her foot encased within its shoe and pressed his lips gently to it.

[i-love-you-all]

Whumptober Day 7: My Spidey Sense is Tingling...

Cypher relies on his eyes, his fingers, the ability to see the world for what it truly is. But without them...

~700 words. Gunfire, wounds, injured, blindness, numbness, terrorist attack. For the record idk but my hc abt Cypher is that Nora is his kid, so that’s why I wrote him like that... Also, i’ll double post sometime over the weekend to catch up :p

Cypher stumbled down the alleyway. If he had just a little more time.

Bang

The sound of a gunshot made him duck and hide behind the thin walls of whatever this building used to be.

“Find that fucker and bring him back to me. Alive. I don’t care what else you do to him.”

Cypher could only breathe. One breath at a time and with enough seconds passing by, hopefully, his heart rate would slow again. But all the breathing exercises in the world wouldn’t be able to help him if he were to be caught. He needed to find a way out. And fast.

It took all his willpower to get up off the dusty floor and properly examine the cut on his side. It wasn’t deep by any means and the rag he had been using to stop the bleeding did its job. Still, on these dirty streets of his hometown, he knew from experience that a cut this long would still need stitches and a good cleaning.

As he removed his hat and rolled off the mask, watching it disappear into what could be mistaken for a handkerchief, he received a text. Nora was asking for dessert on his way back. Even in the middle of a manhunt, he chuckled and took the time to agree.

“Watch your corners.”

That was his sign to get moving. He doffed his cloak, stepping back onto the busy market streets as another average man, gloves on, shirt mostly clean, definitely no sign of any injury. Cypher kept his head and shoulders up, refusing the need to curl up from the pain, and acting like anyone else around him. These people wanted him dead, sure. However, in order to do that they would now have to tear through an entire crowd to find him, and there was no way—

There was a hissing sound somewhere in the streets and screaming. Cypher was quickly shoved to the side as people started hopelessly running away from the incoming cloud. His first instinct was to cover his mouth and move away from it as well. But with how fast it progressed, he soon felt the sting on his eyes as tears started to farm. Good. With tears in his eyes, it would be easier to wash out this poison later. He kept moving, careful not to run into anyone else as he slipped through the different alleyways to get back home.

He stumbled. Must have tripped over a rock or something, but when he looked down, all he saw the colours of the sandy steps around here. His vision was blurring, and he didn’t know what to do. He kept his free hand outstretched, grabbing onto every railing, every wall until he found a familiar sign. From here it was just a matter of putting one foot in front of another and another until he could finally get home.

Shots rang out, and more people screamed. He stumbled faster, falling onto his hands and knees as that mob started mowing down people left and right. His knee wobbled and brough to his attention that he was starting to lose feeling in his fingers – his toes. His throat was constricting, and he wasn’t sure if that was another side effect of this gas.

His phone rang.

For the first time in his life, he hung up on his daughter as he scrambled to hide from the incoming gangsters chasing the information he had tucked away in his inner chest pocket.

The thing about Cypher was that he had an acute memory for all the events in his past. He couldn’t forget the fear, the anger, and feeling of having power and control over an entire city. Screw Kingdom, they deserved it anyways. But, what happened between the market square and his front door, he would likely never know.

All he knew was that he crawled onto his wife’s lap.

There was warm water washing his eyes out as he begged for help.

He couldn’t feel his daughter holding his hand as the numbness refused to subsite.

But at least he was safe. They were safe. 

[tiredbitchposts]

Since people decied to be fucking annoying here are the answers to my most commonly asked questions

1-) Do i ship Dickkory? No

2-) Do i hate dickbabs? Have no opinion abt this ship except that the shippers are fucking annoying and have been harrasing me for days

2-) Who do i think Dick should be with? Therapy to adress whatever the fuck is his problem but if that's not happening then Wally West

3-) Do i think all dickbabs shippers are annoying? No, just the ones accusing me of being anti-dickbabs for saying that treating Kory as an exotic woman Dick has his fun with until he's ready for something serious with Babs has some racist undertones

4-) Do i think that Kory is a woc? No, but she's treated and fetishlized the same way woc are in-universe and by the fandom and seeing people (mainly white woman) reduce her to a "exotic sexual entertainment that's meant to be replaceable by a more respectful romantic interest once Dick is ready for something serious" brough up some memories for me

5-) Do i think people do that with racist intentions? Actually no, i think racism is so ingrained in our society that the type of white woman who says that in that relation to Starfire doesn't even realize that this type of mindset is rooted is rooted in an ideology that was built specifically to dehumanize woc and treat them as sexual entertainment for the white men who would fuck around with them behind their "wholesome" white counterpart's back before finally settling down with them (For more examples, look at the musical Hunchback of notre dame and you'll see a great example of that being at play)

[alia-turin]

After me pooling you guys yesterday it was determined that now I need to post that Caranthir fic I have been writing for weeks now and I’m very much unsure about. By popular demand here it comes. It will  be multichapter, it is actually mostly finished but it does need some polishing and final touches, I would try to post at least one chapter per week if not more. Not sure how many chapters will be overall, but I do promise some more Aen Elle action later. Thank you for reading. The fic is kind of a follow up on this story HERE but you don’t have to read it, things will make sense either way.

Fic Title: Somewhere in Time (Chapter 1) Fandom: The Witcher (Aen Elle) Pairing: Caranthir/F/OC Warning: Canon typical violence for this chapter AO3 Link

She could hear noises around that she was not familiar with. The forest had always been silent beside the songs of birds and the occasional animal passing by. Wind or rain, but not that. Footsteps, many of them.

Aine looked through the window, she could see shadows in the distance and hear muffled voices. It wasn’t too stranger for a hunter to find himself that deep in the woods, but it was not usual. Based on the number of voices and steps, that was not just one hunter. Then there was another sound she had not heard in the forest - horses running and dogs howling. She felt fear running through her body, she was alone and that had never scared her, although she had wondered what she would do if someone was to come and try and harm her. For five years that has not been something that never happened, nor she had reason to think it might actually happen. She ran to the door to make sure it was locked and that was when the screams started. Those were not animal screams, those were elven or human voices wrapped in fear. She stepped back from there as if being away would stop the horrible picture that was growing in her head and disappear, but that did not change, it just became louder and more violent.

She made another step backwards when something hit the door. It sounded as if a tree trunk was thrown against it. Another hit and she jumped, as it happened, on the third hit the door fell open. Her breath stuck in her throat when she saw what came through the door. What she assumed was a man was dressed in armor taller and larger than any elf or human she had seen.

“You are a pretty one.” he said as he walked toward her, she could not see his face as he was wearing a helmet but Aine could swear she could hear a chuckle even if whatever rational part of her brain was working told her that was not possible. She tried to run away, right through her table, but as soon as she turned her back on him he grabbed her by the hair and yanked her toward himself. She screamed, she tried to reach for his grip, but her nails painfully dug in his armor. He dragged her out of the house as if she was nothing, his grip pulling cruelly on her hair, her legs trying to keep her somewhat standing, but that failed. She was just a rag doll, she could feel her clothes tearing as they rubbed against dirt and stone, her skin started burning.

Caranthir dismounted his horse in the midst of the chaos. Humans were screaming around him, dogs howling and the smell of blood filled his head like a long needed drug. Part of him felt pity for the forest being disturbed by the sounds of violence, but it was going to be over soon. When they captured the escaped humans he could just open a portal to Tir na Lia and they will be done with that pitiful task. He looked around as their men were already lining the humans next to a small wooden house. Strange, he had not been that far in the woods recently, but a house here? It looked more like an old hunting lodge, a very small one, maybe that is why it was abandoned. It wasn’t too far from the nearest town, but it wasn’t close either. As he was musing over the place he saw Imlerith march from the entrance, dragging someone after himself. A woman, she couldn’t keep her balance, her legs and feet were just trying to keep up with the mountain of a man that was pulling her. At first Caranthir ignored it, that was not something that caught his attention anymore, Imlerith can do whatever. He was about to walk away, he didn’t need to see that, although he was going to hear about it no matter if he wanted or not. That woman better preyed for quick death as he was sure Imlerith won’t show an ounce of mercy. Then something caught his attention. Caranthir turned very slowly and just now noticed what Imlerith was dragging. The first thing he saw was the bundle of red hair in the man’s fist, a spark of green eyes with delicate features.

It couldn’t be. Memories rolled in his mind like an avalanche.

He rushed toward Imlerith, he was in fact running, but he realized that only after he reached the other man.

“Stop.” he placed a hand on Imlerith’s shoulder. He was sitting on top of her already, her body looked so small and fragile compared to him. “Stop!” he repeated louder and Imlerith did stop, he couldn’t see his face because of the helmet but he could imagine the annoyance. Foolish of Caranthir to stay between a beast and his prey.

“Want to join?” Imlerith tilted his head, the woman tried to push him off herself, silly girl, even Caranthir wasn’t sure if he would be able to move the other man if he was in her place.

Caranthir didn’t say a thing, he was struggling with his own confusion, she was nothing to him, just some girl that for a second brough painful memories to his mind, but he knew it wasn’t her, so why did he even bother what happened?

“We don’t have time for that.” Was the first thing that came to Caranthri’s mind. They had time for...everything they were not running on a schedule, that could take them days if they wanted to no one was going to tell them a thing.

“You want her for yourself.” Imlerith started laughing. He pushed himself up and stepped away. “Go on then.”

The girl saw her chance and tried to run, but Caranthir used his staff to trip her, she fell face down, and he pressed his foot on her lower back so she couldn’t escape. Imlerith walked away laughing as if he just witnessed a hilarious joke. It was a joke just not a very funny one.

“Please…” the woman pleaded as he moved his foot off and knelt next to her. He grabbed her face, his armoured hand gripping her jaw hard and forcing her to look at him.

He observed her carefully, hair was the same blood red color, but that was about where the similarities ended. Two very different women, not much in common between them, his mind was playing tricks on him, she was dead while the girl in his hand was very much alive. It wasn’t her obviously, but why was he so bothered? She was pretty, very pretty. Half human half elf, frame was smaller and shorter, more human, but even frozen with fear it had the Aen Elle grace. Her face was also just a mix of both races, still beautiful despite the tears and then there were the eyes. Once upon a time he had tried to figure out how exactly Avallac’h had made him. He read about so many genetic oddities, including the mismatching eye colors, a rarity, certainly just nature doing its thing in her case, unlike all the malformations on his body. Then he sensed something he had missed before. He tilted his head to the side and smiled. “You can use magic.” it wasn’t a question.. Her tears had stopped, but she still looked at him like a doe that was about to be devoured by wolves. “You should have defended yourself.”

She continued to look at him with these scared eyes and for a second time today he had to fight with his own mind. Part of him wanted to end her here, she was half human, humans should not be allowed anywhere near magic, they were too weak. But she was also Aen Elle. Even more importantly something in his chest was feeling so tight that it almost hurt physically. That was stupid. She was dead, that was just some random girl Imlerith dragged out of nowhere.

“Caranthir!” it was Imlerith shouting somewhere behind him, but he ignored him. He had to decide what to do. She wasn’t one of the humans they were hunting; he knew that, but he could not leave her here either. Half human, half elf with magic, that she probably didn’t know how to control, otherwise Imlerith would have had a very bad day. No, it was irresponsible to leave her here. Too dangerous.

“You will be coming with me.” as soon as he said that she tried to pull away from his grip but he was holding her jaw firm if she yanked any harder she was more likely to break it than run away from him. Caranthir released his grip for a second, but then moved his hand to her throat, her neck so small in his hold, he could probably break it with little effort. He got up, pulling her with himself, she choked, fighting for breath even if he did not think he was holding her too hard. She tried to say something but the words just didn’t come.

He started opening portals to Tir na Lia, as he watched her lose consciousness.

When she woke up she was lying on a cold stone. She wanted to believe everything that had happened was just a nightmare, but her surroundings hinted to the opposite. Aine lifted herself up slowly, her legs and back were burning from the way the stone and earth had scratched them. Standing all the way seemed like a difficult task but she did it. She was in a room, certainly not one she had ever seen before. There was a bed, table with a couple of chairs, a chest of drawers and a window to the far end. The space was almost as large as the log cabin where she lived. Floors and walls were solid stone and all the furniture was dark old wood. She walked slowly to the window, that should help her figure out where she was. Even that little walk, no more than 3 feet, was painful. Her knees have been badly bruised and every attempt to bend them was just jolts of pain and discomfort. Slowly she made her way and all she could do was stare. Tir na Lia, that was where she was, she knew the city, but she has never seen it from that point, that high up...she must be in the castle. Fear ran down her spine, why was she alive and why was she here…

That was when the door opened and Aine turned not sure she wanted to face whatever might come from there. A man walked in, taller than her, but that wasn’t really a surprise, being only half elf almost everyone was taller than her, even some humans. The elf started walking toward her and she pressed her back against the wall wishing she had more space to avoid him. It took him just a couple of steps to get to her and he grabbed her throat, painful from this morning, using his fingers to turn her head left and right as if observing a horse he was about to buy. She was terrified. Her heart was beating hundreds of kilometers per hour and she could barely breath and the reason was not his hand on her neck. His touch was almost gentle if anything in this situation could be gentle. Even from the weird angle her head was turned she could see his face. Pale hair and cold eyes, tattoos were crawling on his neck and disappearing under the furs of his cloak. Terrible scars were covering half of his face which despite the strands of hair over them she could see.

Caranthir looked at the marks his gauntlet had left around her throat, the skin already turning blue and purple. That was uncalled for, he could have been more careful. On the other hand why did he even bother about some half bred mutt? He should have broken her neck in the woods and ended it there. Instead he had taken her in Tir na Lia, for what? Because she reminded him of someone he had lost so many years ago that he could barely recall her face? But he did not need to remember the face, he remembered the feeling. Mostly the hate he felt when he lost her, the need to destroy and hurt, but when he saw this half-breed’s face something else made him stop. A feeling he had buried so deep in himself that he did not even know it existed anymore. A need he had convinced himself over so many years to be childish and unnecessary. He was imagining things, he was overthinking it.

“Please...let me go…” her voice came through broken, he couldn’t determine if it was the fear or the fact he had hurt her too bad this morning.

“Cannot let half human mage just roam around Tir na Lia.” his answer was not that much directed at her, he had no interest in her plea, it was mostly a thought he vocalized. That was too dangerous. But if that was dangerous, why was he unable to just kill her? All he had to do is snap her neck as he was holding her, push her through the window next to them, or any manner of magic that he could think about. No, not unable, he was more than able. Unwilling. His mind was conflicted for unknown reasons and all he could do was stare at her. The long red hair, complete mess from Imlerith dragging her in the woods, her face dirty but still beautiful and the mismatching eyes - green and brown. Somehow she also looked equally Aen Elle and human. When he tried to point to a future that was more human to convince himself that she is nothing but a cockroach that needs to be killed, he would find something that made her look as elven as he was.

“I’m not a mage…” there were no tears in her eyes but her voice sounded more like a cry than anything else.

Caranthir did not comment on that, he knew what he was feeling, magic is one of the things he knew better than anyone. She was either lying to him or she was not aware she had powers. But she had....she was not as old as he was, definitely much younger but an adult nonetheless. She should have felt something or done something that would make her experience the power she had no matter how weak it might be.

“Ever moved an object that you couldn’t reach but it somehow ended up in your hand?” she shook her head at the question. “Ever destroyed something just with thought in a fit of anger?” again shaking for no. “Ever had a dream that became true?” Again no.

He wasn’t wrong. That started bothering him and he could feel an obsession growing in him. He had to figure that out. He removed his hand from her throat and ran a finger through her cheek, wet with tears. She was beautiful. Not like her, it was a different sort of beauty, less...polished. Caranthir was hurting and felt excited at the same time, it had been years since something could provoke so many strong emotions in him.

“I will ask someone to bring you food and new clothes.” he stepped back just to see her frame visibly sink in relief. He knew he had that effect on people but somehow he felt a bit disappointed. He could have done worse, much worse.