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keijikunn · 4 years

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All Of Your Soul

Part of the @babythotshq mini collab!! You can check the other parts here!

Pairing: demon!Tsukishima Kei x gender neutral!reader Genre: angst, crack if you squint for like 2 seconds Summary: Your superstitious grandmother always told you not to get involved with demons, but how could you not when Tsukishima Kei, the one you’ve summoned, was so alluring? Word count: ~3.4k

Author’s note: Happy Halloween!! I hope you enjoy this piece, and a massive shoutout to @hidden-otaku-stuff @kaitycole and of course @babythotshq who helped me out during the process of writing this fic! Love you all mwah mwah 💞

WARNINGS: mentions of blood, minor and major character death, yandere!tsukki, mentions of violence, mention of sex, swearing

Ever since you were a kid, your grandmother warned you about the evil creatures that cohabited the world you lived in. She was often called crazy because of it - after all, she was an old lady talking non-stop about demons. However, that topic amazed you rather than giving you chills down your spine. Your curiosity grew progressively as she told you the same thing over and over: “Don’t mess up with them, or else they’ll take your soul away”.

You always thought grandma told you those stories just to scare you off, to make sure you would stay in line. But the way you’d laugh it off at the age of 7 almost like daring the threat hinted your disbelief.

"The entire hell can come get me, they won't be able to touch me!" you once told your grandmother, which earned you a scoff and a flick on your forehead.

"Oh, Y/N" she cooed, almost in pity, patting your head. "You will regret it when you're older,"

And once again, you laughed at her.

It became part of your childhood, long forgotten as the years passed by and the concept of believing in demons appeared to be silly. Your memory permanently buried it in the depths of your mind after your dear grandmother passed away, leaving this world with her tales from underworld creatures.

A long time since she passed,, you remembered the spooky way the old woman would tell you different myths when you were packing your belongings to leave for college. The old box stuffed inside the attic filled with dusty and thick books lit a lamp in your head, concluding your grandma used to tell you those stories.

Not only did she have short terrifying ones, your grandma seemed to be way more superstitious than just believing in simple tales. Some of them had different symbols, with many side notes written - assumably - by your late relative. The barely readable handwritten overlapped one another, all information mixing into a big mess that you could hardly understand.

“Granny was really into it, huh?”

It wouldn’t hurt reading them - after all, it would be for the sake of your childhood.

And just like you found yourself drawing strange patterns inside a circle on the floor of your bedroom with chalk, it hardly appeared but you didn’t mind. It’s just some made up stories, you thought, proceeding to let an airy laugh just thinking about your grandmother tossing and turning in her coffin. Your disbelief in these surely came from your young age. After that, all you needed to do was a single drop of your blood and say some weird phrases.

“If it doesn’t work, it’s because of these freaking sentences,” you muttered, pricking your finger with a needle. As the red liquid fell on the center of the circle you drew, the difficult words slipped out of your lips.

A few minutes passed by after you finished the ritual and the bedroom was engulfed in silence. How you wished you could talk to your grandmother right now, just to rub it in her face that she was wrong - even though you had a mess to clean. Tossing the old book aside, you laughed at the situation you had put yourself in and undid a part of the draw.

“You know, ever since you were a kid your sassy attitude got me on my nerves,” a second voice echoed, a male one.

You have never turned your head so quickly in your life, looking for the person who just spoke to you. A tall, blonde guy stood on the other side of the circle; the black dress shirt had the first three buttons undone matching with the black slacks. He was handsome, and you wondered if it was your mind’s work to show you one of the hottest men you’ve ever seen (and imagined) in your life. “It’s rude to stare”

“I must be crazy,” you laughed, rubbing your eyes, when you opened them again, he was still there, with an annoyed look on his features. “Granny must be pranking me, there’s no fucking way I summoned-”

“A demon, actually you just did, haven’t you read the book, dumbass?” he hissed, rolling his eyes. The blonde man crouched to look at the poorly drawn summoning circle and scoffed. “I wonder how you managed to summon me, this shit is terrible, not to mention your Latin”

“Well, I’m sorry if it’s fucking hard to draw it, let alone speaking goddamn Latin!” This guy, this demon was pissing you out, and he had only been in your room for less than five minutes. “Okay, I guess you’re real, my grandma was right, go to hell”

“A lot of people have already told me this joke, and I have to remind every single human that it sucks,” he snapped angrily, before sighing in defeat and looking at you. “What do you want from me?”

“Me, nothing,” you chimed sarcastically. “I was serious when I told you to go to hell, demon.”

“Can you please not call me demon?!”

“So how should I call you? Rex?”

“Jesus, you’re so annoying-”

“I thought demons couldn’t say Jesus’ name, Rex”

“For fucks sake, it’s Tsukishima!” he said louder than he wanted, his voice vibrated inside your body sending chills down your spine. “You’re the worst human that has ever summoned me, and it was just for fun!”

“Then stop complaining and return to hell, it’s not that hard!” you shot back, just as annoyed as him. A part of yourself, the superstitious one, the same one that had believed for a short while in your grandma, was screaming at yourself for picking up a fight with a demon, but your prideful one wouldn’t let that go easily.

“I can’t just do it when you fucking used your blood while summoning me!” Tsukishima exclaimed, rolling his eyes. “Don’t you know how to read? It clearly says that blood rituals are strong, they tie your soul to me.”

“You’re telling me you, a demon, can't undo this shit?” you asked, at the sight of the male shaking his head sideways you groan frustrated. "What kind of shitty demons are you?"

"A demon that is way smarter than you, idiot." he mocked angrily.

"What am I going to do with such a pain in the ass?" The question didn't look for a proper answer from him, but either way he grunted in protest. "If I pray to whatever god, will you be repelled?"

"You're really the dumbest human I’ve ever met," Tsukishima stated as he rolled his eyes. "Of course not, what do you think I am? An ordinary demon from a shitty movie?"

"Well-"

"You know what? Don't answer it," he cut you, shaking his hand as if the gesture would shut you off. "Clean this mess, it's giving me chills seeing such a bad job."

"Use your demon powers to clean it all!"

"I'm not a fucking fairy!"

Tsukishima was just a single demon, but his presence seemed to bring the whole hell to you. His witty and unnecessary comments easily threw you off the edge, and as if he noticed, which he probably did, the man made sure to say at least one provoking statement every single time he opened his mouth.

It wasn’t easy to get used with his presence, especially when Tsukishima made sure to remind you every minute you were awake that “it’s your fault”.

Yet, the demon did not tell you how to break whatever bond you established with him. You came to the conclusion that his duty whenever he was summoned was to annoy people out. What a useless demon, you thought once, just to hear him screaming profanities and insults inside your head.

You have never imagined that this situation would drag for so long. Tsukishima was there on your first day at college, and he made sure to make you embarrass yourself in front of your class. He was also there to ruin your first date with a cute guy from one of your periods, Inuoka ended the night a bit paranoid about someone following him around.

“I think you told me you weren’t a fairy to do this kind of thing, Tsukki” you commented sarcastically, feeling the anger bubble inside your chest.

“You heard it right, Y/N,” he answered, throwing himself at your not-so-comfortable sofa, stretching his legs over the coffee table in front of it. “That guy looked like a little boy scared of his own shadow!”

“Why did you do it?!” The question came out more desperate than you wanted it to be. Inuoka wasn’t the first man Tsukishima pulled a stunt on, and by the way your personal demon (as you address him) acts it’s not going to be the last. “He was so nice, he didn’t deserve this childish attitude of yours!”

“Well, he doesn’t have part of your soul like I do,” Tsukishima muttered quietly, but his eyes spoke volumes about his feelings. The possessiveness shone in his golden-brown orbs, a hint of jealous maybe, and you wondered once again if he had feelings like you.

“Tsukishima…”

All words left your brain as the tall man walked over you, holding your face with his hand. He ran his thumb over your lips and squeezed your cheeks with his grip, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. “What are you-”

“You’re mine.” He spoke firmly, not giving a chance to say anything back. “I have a part of me in you and part of your soul is mine. You are mine”

Without a warning, Tsukishima leaned down to smash his lips against yours. His movements were harsh, but it didn’t take too long for you to give in into the heated kiss. Your head was empty, and all you could feel was his mouth on yours and a slender hand travelling inside your shirt. The lack of air in your system made you pull away from the contact, locking eyes with him with a clear question mark above your head.

“What the hell was that, Tsukki?” The anger vanished, leaving behind confusion and a bit of… desire inside of you.

“I’m just showing you who you belong to.”

At that moment you couldn’t see all the red flags on that simple statement. The frustration of many failed dates piled up on your nerves to the point that you were not able to see the meaning behind those words. The mere thought of a man desiring you probably the same way as you did blinded you, and that made you snake your hands around Tsukishima’s neck and bring him down to another feverish kiss.

The rest of the night passed by like a blur, Tsukishima’s touch was hot on your skin - and you enjoyed it. The sane part of your brain didn’t have enough room to question your actions: what on Earth were you doing hooking up with a demon? Were you that desperate to be intimate with someone? As quickly as those thoughts invaded your mind, the man towering over you proceeded to take your focus to himself

You don’t know when you fell asleep, but once you woke up, feeling sore as fuck, you noticed Tsukki lying next to you. His eyes were closed, yet you knew for a fact he wasn’t in a deep slumber- he didn't need sleep. Nevertheless, you took a few moments to appreciate the view, at the same time flashes of your previous activities together came to you just like a fever dream.

“You don’t have a brain to think too much, dumbass,” he said without even looking at you, a sly smile graced his face nicely and you wondered if he was, at some point in his life, an actual angel. “Do you know who you belong to?”

“I’m not really sure,” you replied shamelessly. Tsukishima’s eyes opened to look straight at yours, arching his eyebrows at your daring tone. “All I remember is a very annoying demon being a bitch about a guy I was interested in”

Messing with Tsukishima became one of your favourite things, because his immediate response was to pin you on the next hard surface and engage in a messy kiss. Being with him was way different than any other relationship you've had, which weren't many since that demon was on your ass ever since you started college.

Either way, you loved the push and pull between you two. The constant bickering would eventually turn into a heated make out session, and sometimes even more than that. You completely forgot that the man you were in a sort of relationship (if you could call it that way) was a supernatural creature; your mind chose to bury the important information of who Tsukishima really was: a demon.

His actions started to change after over a month or two since you fucked for the first time. Although the snarky and teasing comments were far from coming to an end, you found yourself curled next to him every night. Tsukishima would hold you before you sleep, even if he had to spend a few hours in the same position (which never lasted long, he learned in the hard way that you toss and turn a lot).

You also changed around him, much to your surprise. You no longer found other men at college attractive; your Friday nights were spent on your couch with Tsukishima next to you, with a random movie on the TV while the two of you kiss. He was your getaway when things got too rough for you, with his hot touches and endless desire.

Maybe it was the attention Tsukishima gave you, or perhaps that he has been with you for so long, but he managed to win your heart completely. Every time the blonde demon hissed “you’re mine”, how he always satiates your desires and even the awkward moments when he tries to cuddle you. Every little thing this man does pull the strings attached to your heart and mind.

And you knew Tsukishima noticed your change of demeanor as well, how you got clingier as the months passed by, the soft tone on your voice and the lack of sarcastic responses to his mean comments. You were falling in love with him, and it was the most obvious thing Tsukki has ever witnessed during his whole life dealing with humans.

“I think I love you, Tsukki” you managed to say, your body trembled due to the intense pleasure the man above you just provided. His eyes were unreadable as he looked down at you, but you could dare to say there was a hint of fondness swimming in them. “I never thought it would be possible to fall in love with in all creatures, a demon”

“Yeah?” he caressed your cheek, tracing down to your neckline and pressing on the reddish marks on your skin. “And you were the almighty kid who didn’t believe in demons”

“A pretty annoying demon changed my mind, I have to add” the smile on your face was small, but held so much meaning. However, Tsukishima didn’t mirror your feelings, displaying a rather sadistic one instead. “And you, have you changed your mind about humans?”

“Who knows?” Tsukishima asked rhetorically, letting his body fall next to yours on the bed. "You're the most… interesting human I've met."

You laughed at his comment, pressing your face against his side in a loving manner. The fact that Tsukishima stood still instead of responding to the display of affection went unnoticed by you; he was being himself, you tried to justify his stiffness.

Your relationship with him was just like that: you being overly affectionate and Tsukishima… being himself, the hard to approach demon with beautiful looks and with a magnetic aura. You fell easily for him, like getting used to a new daily routine. In a matter of time you found yourself being more vocal about your quick paced heart, the butterflies flying inside your stomach and even the high pitched tone of your voice whenever you couldn't retort one of his comments.

The man, on the other hand, didn’t follow this demeanor - in fact, Tsukishima started to act the opposite way. He would avoid your touches like the plague, leaving your apartment late at night and returning near the afternoon with purple marks on his neck and collarbones. Something inside you, jealousy, lit up like setting something on fire: wild, uncontrolled and destructive. Once it starts burning, it won’t stop easily.

“Can’t you stop fucking other people around?!” You screamed at him, not caring if the clock on the wall just hit three in the morning. “Am I not enough for you?”

“Stop making a case out of it, Y/N” Tsukishima rolled his eyes trying to pass through you, only to be blocked by your body. “Jesus, why are you being so jealous?! We have nothing between us”

“I am fucking in love with you, dumbass!” Your high pitched voice was followed by a dead silence. Tsukishima stared at you blankly while you took deep breaths in order to calm yourself, but the adrenaline of your confession didn’t help you stay quiet. “I’ve been head over heels for you for the longest time and you proceeded to hook up with other people every night… Am I that easy for you? I love you with all my heart, a part of my soul is yours- why can’t you do the same?”

All you could hear at first was your erratic breathing pattern, then the room was filled with his laugh. He was laughing as if someone had just told him the funniest joke he ever heard, the way his torso bent forward to accompany sick amusement creeped you out. Tsukishima pretended to wipe a tear and smiled at you.

“Oh, Y/N… You’re definitely something else, huh?” He said rhetorically, stretching his arm so his hand could cup your face. You stood still, suddenly unsure about his actions and words. Tsukishima has never used such a cold and psychotic tone with you, let alone that sadistic smirk hiding so many feelings. “So you finally accepted that you’re mine, right?”

“H-How can I be yours if you don’t give yourself to me, as well?” Never in your life have you felt so terrified, something in Tsukishima’s demeanor screamed that he wasn’t joking around. He was about to do something bad, and it would be against you. “Isn’t my love enough for you?”

“Well, to be honest? It’s almost enough” he agreed, his index finger traced down your cheeks, following down your neck until it pointed directly to the left side of your chest, above your beating heart. “So, shall I claim what is mine?”

The time seemed to be slowed down, your heartbeats were loud in your ears and your limbs were numb - you couldn’t move them at all. Regardless, it would be impossible for you, a mere human, to stop Tsukishima from slamming his hand against your chest. You didn’t feel physical pain, but the sensation of something, someone wrapping slender fingers around your inner self made you scream.

“Tsukishima, w-what are you doing?” Your trembling voice made him laugh, the same hand he used to hit you fully on display for you to see him close it. The immediate reaction of you was a shriek, as if the demon was squeezing your insides. “What the fuck, Tsukki?”

“Why are you so surprised?” Tsukishima asked with fake innocence, wiping the tears you didn’t know you shed. “You just told me you loved me with all your heart, that a part of your soul is mine… So I’m claiming my belongings, after all, this is the kind of demon I am: whenever a stupid little human like you summons me with blood, they sell their souls to me. It’s a matter of time for me to get it”

“I… I trusted you, Tsukki…” Your sobs interrupted your own speech. All the intimate moments you two have spent together were pure acting, meaningless, just to make you give your everything spontaneously to him.

Your grandmother was right. You regretted every single interaction you had with Tsukishima, the demon you summoned before entering college.

“Well, it’s your own fault.” With that, Tsukishima harshly pulled his hand backwards, leaving behind only an empty body with no soul.

TAGLIST

crossed users are the ones i couldn’t tag!

@jovialnoise @paripedia @angmarwitch @shinhiromi @mariachiiii @elianetsantana @moonlightaangel @vicassa @boosyboo9206 @shrimpypenis @sunshine-hina @kozupresh @humanitysbiggestsimp @atsumubabe @sachirou-senpai

#bbthots #spoofythots #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima imagine #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader

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thoughtsaboutshows · 4 years

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Fluffy Ask

@kh5160 asked for “Soulmate shit, it’s hardcore as hell.”

Sabrina sat down at their typical lunch table at Baxter High, noticing she was interrupting a lively conversation between her friends.

“What are we talking about?” She asked them.

“Mr. Presley’s lesson in Culture and Lore today.” Theo responded, a blatant smile on his face.

“Which was?” Sabrina raised her eyebrows in question.

“Soulmate shit, it’s hardcore as hell.” Roz responded with a giggle. It was then that Sabrina noticed that Harvey was quiet and not participating into the conversation, the topics of soulmates still an uncomfortable one for him since their breakup.

The idea of soulmates was something that was taught and ingrained in the minds of the Greendale Youth from a young age. Tradition and religion stated that one shared a mark with their soulmate, one only the two could see. Soulmates could mean anything. The connection could be romantic, platonic, or you could be spit-fire enemies. Your souls connected as destined to fight forever.

Sabrina had been delighted when she first noticed that she and Harvey shared the tiny blob on their shoulders. How lucky she was, that her soulmate was someone she knew and not halfway around the world. They were giddy, and when they were old enough they jumped into a relationship, convinced their soul connection was one of romance.

What Harvey didn’t know but would later find out, is that soulmates aren’t limited to mortal beings. The celestials or Satan or whoever also gifted these indelible marks to witches and warlocks. Though witches’ soul marks are a bit different, not usually attached to ideas of Romance but one of lust and power. But they had them all the same. Which is how Sabrina ended with a second secret mark on her wrist in the shape of a crescent moon the morning after her Dark Baptism.

It startled her when she woke up then next morning to find not only had her hair turned the shade of moonlight itself, but an image of it was apparent on her wrist. She didn’t understand, she had a soulmate. Her best friend Harvey who had broken up with her after he found out she was a witch. After she tried to bring Tommy back from the dead because, well, she’d do anything for her soulmate.

She ran to her aunts, begging her for answers. What did it mean? Why did she have two soul marks? How did she have two soul marks? Hilda and Zelda checked with her about a million times to make sure it was a soul mark she was seeing, and not sharpie or a bruise.

“You, cousin, have two soulmates.” Ambrose stated in the living room after dinner later that night.

With Ambrose’s help, who had been studying soul marks in depth since his house arrest, they came to the conclusion that she had two soul marks because she had two natures. One witch, one mortal. It also meant that she had two soulmates. There was another person out there, a magical being, with a crescent moon on their wrist. She didn’t know exactly how to feel. Harvey hadn’t been a Romantic soulmate, maybe this one could. But she shrugged the thought off, knowing what witches and warlocks were like, but it didn’t completely leave his mind.

So on her very first day at the Academy Sabrina couldn’t decide whether she should try and hide or flaunt her new soul mark, the one on her wrist a lot more visible than the one on her shoulder. She knew there were witches and warlocks all over the world, but a small part of her thought she’d get lucky again and find her soulmate close by. But she also worried what that soulmate would expect of her once they met. Surely not romance, like she wanted. And she wasn’t one to just give her body away, even to Harvey. Even to her soulmate. She decided she wouldn’t flaunt it, but she wouldn’t hide it either.

Sabrina knew it was going to be a weird day. She knew most of the students at the Academy hated her and balked at her existence. She expected the harrowing and the jokes. And she expected to eat alone at lunch. But she didn’t.

She hadn’t expected the warlock, Nicholas Scratch and big man on campus, to ask to join her. He was handsome, his hair curled and perfectly messy. His dark eyes were inviting and his smile was tilted slightly, and he was smiling at her. She’d seen him around growing up and at the few Coven events she attended. She was curious about him and how he always seemed a little different than the rest. He’d flirted with her but she'd rarely reciprocated, and he’d always been curious about her relationship with Harvey. He wondered about what it was like to have a Romantic soulmate. He wondered about what it was like to find your soulmate period.

“Have a seat, Nick.” Sabrina commented with a smile as he waited or her to allow him to sit down. “It’s good to see you again.”

“So how’s your first day going?” He asked her as he cut into his chicken. It was bland so he reached for the salt. She had the same idea as she reached for it too while explaining that she was annoyed at her class list, but excited for conjuring.

Sabrina couldn’t ignore the jolt of heat she felt on her wrist and her eyes darted to their joined hands. She noticed then that the edge of her sweater was pulled up slightly revealing a liver of her pale skin, and revealing her soul mark. Nick’s eyes darted to it too and cleared his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets. But not before Sabrina caught a small glimpse of her own.

She thought her brain may have been playing tricks on her but as she replayed the moment in her brain later in the day, she couldn’t deny what she’d seen. On his right wrist, just like her own, was a small crescent moon.

She didn’t know how to bring it up, and he didn’t either. The soulmate thing isn’t something you can just bring up. It was delicate, and Sabrina had been lucky with Harvey. He was sweet and innocent and didn’t make her feel embarrassed when they talked about it.

Nick was a firestorm. He was unpredictable and every time he touched her shoulder or leaned over her desk when she was studying in the library she felt like she couldn’t breathe. But she took notice that she missed the tense air when they went their separate ways. Nick had been struggling too. He’d been wrestling with his crush on her that just seemed to grow by the day, and found that he was smelling her lavender lotion even in his dreams.

Shortly before Lupercalia she couldn’t take it anymore. Nick had been dropping subtle hints about trying to match with her for it and spending it with someone special. And while the thought of it sent her positively humming with anticipation, she couldn’t be his partner without knowing. She had to know.

She didn’t knock as she barged in his bedroom, she never had, since the two had started their friendship. He had just gotten out of the shower and sweatpants hung low on his sweatpants and it was the first time she had seen him without a shirt. A blush creeped to her face and she kept her eyes on his. And off his chest and his wrist.

“Spellman, what are you-” She asked her as he took in her wide-eyed expression.

“Nick, I need to know.” She said and played with her long-sleeved sweater, trying to find the word. “You’ve been talking about Lupercalia and I think I’d like to go with you but before we do any of that, I need to know-”

“Sabrina, breathe.” He walked towards her and resisted tucking her hair behind her ears. “What do you need to know?”

“I noticed something my first day at the Academy. After my Dark Baptism. On your wrist.” Sabrina got out and Nick’s eyes went wide, recognizing what she was saying. She started to lift her sleeve.

“Wait.” Nick stopped her with his left hand on her arm before meeting her eyes. He hesitantly lifted his hand to push her hair behind her ear, giving in to his desire from before. And then in slow motion and quickly at the same time, he kissed her. Like the firestorm he was, Nick’s lips on hers set her ablaze and she couldn’t help but trail her hands up his chest, leaving sparks in her place.

When they pulled apart Nick’s hands were on her waist and hers were buried in his hair. They sat in that moment for a while, foreheads pressed together and breathing each other in. He smelled fresh from his shower and she smelled like lavender.

“Why did you do that, Nick?” She finally asked.

“It didn’t matter.” He answered her. “It doesn’t matter what’s on your wrist and what’s on mine. I wanted to kiss you because you’re you, and not because we have the same Satan-given mark on our body.”

Sabrina responded by kissing him again, distracting him with her lips while she reached down and grabbed his hand.

“That’s very romantic. But I still want to know.”

“I figured you would.” Nick smirked at her in response and willingly turned his wrist over.

And there it was. On the inside of his right wrist was a small mark in the shape of a crescent moon. Nick noted her soft smile, it was good news. He grabbed her hand then from where it was resting at the back of his neck and to look at her wrist. He smiled wide when he noticed the mark was identical to his and brought it to his lips to kiss it gently. Her eyes fluttered closed at the soft gesture and she let out a deep breath.

“Oh, praise Satan.” Nick murmured against her skin. She giggled before biting her lip and looking up at him.

“I thought it didn’t matter.” Sabrina quipped and ran her hands up and down his chest again.

“It doesn’t.” He leaned in to peck her once, unable to refrain from kissing her now that he’d finally done it. “But I’m glad I don’t have to fight anyone for your hand.”

“My hand?” She raised her eyebrows at her.

“Uhhh, not that you or your hand belong to me because I’m your soulmate.” Nick tried to save face. “Just that I’m glad you are…”

He stopped rambling when he heard her giggling again.

“I’m glad too, Nick.” She pulled him in for another kiss. This one tender and deep. He hummed against her lips. “So Lupercalia? Feel like spending it with your soulmate?”

“Lupercalia.” Nick answered, lifting her wrist to kiss the crescent moon again. “And every day after that.”

#nabrina #fluffy asks #Chilling Adventures of Sabrina #Nicholas Scratch #sabrina spellman

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eluminium · 4 years

Text

Okay so i might have gotten obsessed with @lulzyrobot 's Dynamorph AU and since ya girl cannot draw to save her dignity, she's gonna write something instead. Have fun reading this total mess.

Clack

The sound of heels hitting the well-kept floor echo throughout the far-reaching corridor, the sound bouncing around like a child on a sugar rush. A pair of lighter footsteps trail behind. Suddenly, they stop.

-This is your room ma'am, we hope you enjoy your time at Rose of the Rondelands, a woman in fine dress tells the younger soul.

-Thank you, the girl murmurs in reply.

The older smiles slightly and gives the lass a card before walking back down the hall. The girl now left alone, wastes no time in inserting the card into the door, and entering the clean and tidy hotel room. She takes a look around, admiring the sheer luxury on all sides.

-Dear Arceus, I knew this place was extra but this is overdoing it, the girl exclaims to herself.

She pats the pockets on her jacket excitedly, clearly looking for something. But as her hand curls around a familiar sphere, she stops.

-Oh, right, she sighs.

With a sullen expression, she quickly makes her way into the bathroom, stopping at the beautifully decorated mirror. Her eyes lock contact with the reflections, a pair of ocean blue eyes meeting an identical copy. She turns to the side, to meet the mirror head-on. As she gazes at the doppelganger in the mirror, she starts speaking.

-My name is El, I am a Pokemon trainer who is thinking about joining the next Gym Challange. My family and I were in Hammerlocke to visit family, we are now in Wyndon to be interviewed as witnesses.

Her hand meets her dirty blond hair, fingers running through the soft locks. El flinches, surprised by something. She drags her fingers through her hair again.

-Wow, this has grown way too long, she blurts out.

As she breaks eye contact with the mirror while measuring how much hair she'll have to cut so she can revert to her normal middle neck length, a thought crosses her mind.

-Why was I talking to my reflection?

She meets the eyes of her mirror copy again.

-Am I seriously going insane already? They have only been gone for like a day-

El stops before the words leave her mouth. Her eyes sting, as she leaves the bathroom and collapses on the couch without another word. Her hands reach for her Rotom phone.

-Better call mom and dad to see when they're done with that transcript, she mumbles.

The phone sparks to life and lights up. As she reaches to tap the "Call" option, something stops her.

On the screen is a photo, a photo of multiple familiar faces. El herself, and her Falinks. 7 happy expressions contrasted with her blank face. She doesn't even realize she's crying until the drops land on the screen. El drops the phone into her lap, wiping away both the tears on the screen and the tears in her eyes.

-Damn it! I tried avoiding this you...you dumb group of...

A sob tears out her throat.

-I-I know you're gone, but it sure doesn't feel like it! It's like you're still here, somewhere, she whimpers out.

She shakes her head violently.

-I-I can't be sobbing like this! I'm a successful trainer! I'm supposed to stay strong for Mali! For mom and dad! El exclaims.

She tries to throw the phone into the cushions, but the Rotom inside saves it at the last second, letting it slowly float down to safety.

She sits up fully and buries her head into her hands, taking calculated breaths to calm down. As El's trying to regain her cool, some memories flash through her mind.

-No no, THIS way! she remembers saying.

The cries of her Falinks, Alexie, follow suit. The people who are panicking seem to at least taken her order to heart, running towards the direction she's pointing at.

-Yeah! Just like that! her sister, Mali says.

An explosion rocks the ground, people scream and point towards the top of Hammerlocke stadium. The grotesque hand-like creature likely caused it in its battle against the Champion, Gym leaders, and fellow trainers.

Somewhere in the depths of her mind, the name Eternatus echos.

People stand still, their mouths gaping like Magikarps on land.

-What are you doing!? Keep moving you flock of Wooloo! another trainer helping with the evacuation roars.

The crowd seems to snap back to reality and continue moving.

Suddenly, another explosion rocks the ground, along with an ear grating screech. As El and other people snap their heads towards the roof again, a huge red light flashes towards them. The last thing she recalls are people screaming, and her trusted partner impacting her chest.

She winces after recalling the memory, tears streaming down her face once again. She sighs deeply, letting her hands drop from her face. They land on her lap with a soft "thud". As she tries to do the deep breaths to calm down again, a soft headache suddenly forms.

-Oh no, not this again, El asserts.

-I've been having these on and off headaches ever since the red light show yesterday! Also walking weirdly! Almost like marchin-

Her hands shoot to her head, the headache intensifying.

-What the hell-

As the pain intensifies, something seems to be growing out of the top of her head. El smashes her face into the couch as she screams. A familiar, red headcreast bursts out of the top of her head, causing blood to run down the sides. She brings her shivering hand up to touch this strange growth, but an increase in pain stops her. She lets out another horrified and pain-filled screech as something sharp spurts out of her forehead and the area between her eyes. Pieces of skin and blood run down her face and coat the grey couch in a brown color. This weird horn seems to have gotten stuck in the cushions of the couch. She shakes wildly as the burning decreases, only for it to come roaring back.

She's screamed herself raw and can only whimper and sob as two red spikes slowly grow out of her temples. But as the spikes seem to have finished flowering two gold and white shield-like rings burst out violently, hooking themselves around the newly formed spikes.

This suffering causes her to jerk violently, ripping up the couch where the horn had gotten stuck. As the shields on the sides of her face move in front of her eyes she sits straight up.

-Bathroom...Where is the bathroom again?! she bellows as she stands straight up.

As she starts her rush towards the bathroom, a burning sensation in her shoulders and kneecaps stop her. She falls to the floor right outside the bathroom door, her eyes still blocked by the shields on the sides of her head.

She can hear her clothes ripping as an awfully familiar feeling surrounds the affected areas. Four more spikes, followed by four more shield-like growths rupture out of her kneecaps and shoulders. She squeaks softly as she drags herself up, using the doorframe as support and stumbles back into the bathroom. Blood trails after her as she comes face to face with the mirror.

Physically moving the shields beside her eyes, she comes face to face with two white dots bearing light blue circles around them. A sharp red horn with its golden support greets her as well. The skin around her eyes has turned into an ominous black, almost in the form of a mask. Bellow this black mask, a familiar yellow has sneaked its way over most of the rest of her face, stopping just above her lip. Everything under that line stays the same pale white as she's always been. The yellow and white shields cover her temples, sitting pretty comfortably on the sides of her head.

-What in Arceus' good name is this? El questions her reflection.

She brings her hand up to study the shield on her shoulder, only to be met by pitch-black skin. She startles for a second and drags up her jacket sleeve, only to see that the black skin stops just below the shoulder-shield, leaving her torso and chest unchanged. The same seems true for her legs as the black skin stops just above her waistline. She once again brings her to stare back to her reflection.

-Alexie...? she mumbles to herself.

Abruptly, a horrible pain from her vertebrae causes her to almost fall. Using the sink as support, she lets out a raw scream as a sharp small tail-like appendage grows out of it, ripping her pants even more in the process. Blood matters her sweatpants.

She stands in the same position for at least five minutes, slowly getting used to the new body parts sticking out of her. She meets the eyes of her reflection once again.

-I knew you were here somewhere... I just didn't expect all this, she states while gesturing to her body.

A thought crosses her mind.

-Wait, if this happened to me and Alexie is gone, does that mean...?

Before she even knew it, shes grabbed the keycard and leaves the room, rushing down the hallway.

-Mali! Mali! Where are you?! Her voice echos throughout the hallway.

Behind her, small footsteps seem to follow. These very familiar footsteps cause her to stop for a second. She turns around and comes face to face with 5 other faces. 5 small Falinks seem to be following her in a straight line. She can't do anything but nod before taking off towards the kids' area.

She slams into the door, making it slam into the wall as she enters.

-Mali?! Are you alri-?!

Before finishing that statement, her eyes meet many other kids, most of them on the floor. Some are crying, others are trying to calm down others. But one fact stands out. A gasp leaves her mouth.

More than half of these kids seem to have encountered the same fate she did. One seems to be fused with an Applin, another with a Boltund. She looks around wildly, trying to find her sister.

-Come on, where are you? If you actually fused with something it would probably be with that disaster creatur-

-El? a small but familiar voice asks.

Her eyes snap towards the owner of that voice.

-I think I found Zolty.

#dynamorph au #dynamorph #my writing #trainersona #pokemon #pokemon swsh #gore #but not that much #new writer #how do you write #like seriously #this probably sucks #falinks

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delunesnumberonefan · 4 years

Text

Love me like an ocean, drown me in your waves

"You know, darling," DeLune started, rolling over to face Jubilee. "They say it's easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than it is for a rich person to get into heaven."

"So I've heard," Jubilee replied.

"What are you going to do if I don't get in?"

"I'll get you in," Jubilee promised. "I'm on good terms with the big man upstairs, I'll get you in."

And DeLune wasn't…she wasn't satisfied with that answer, but she took it. And the ensuing silence was so long that she figured Jubilee had dropped the subject.

"And if he doesn't listen to me," Jubilee started after a time, "then I guess I'm joining you in hell. Because I don't want to live eternally if it's not with you."

Jubilee's answer practically knocked the wind out of DeLune. It wasn't what she had said, DeLune had had people make such promises before.

No, it had such an effect on her because unlike past times, DeLune knew Jubilee meant it. Jubilee wasn't exaggerating her love or putting on a show. Jubilee would meet her at the pearly gates and bargain with her god for DeLune's eternal soul, and if that god turned his back on DeLune, Jubilee would turn her back on him. Jubilee would forsake her chance at eternal life with the god she loved and had worshipped practically since birth in favor of DeLune, because of the simple fact that she loved her.

Jubilee didn't say things flippantly. That wasn't her style. The fact that Jubilee had said this now meant that she had thought long and hard about it, had worked through this puzzle and come to this conclusion over and over again until it was a truth she had accepted wholeheartedly and without hesitation. She was Jubilee Waters, she followed Pelor, and she would rather swan dive into a pool of sulphur and be damned to torment than live without DeLune.

She always said these things so easily...DeLune almost envied her for it. Jubilee may not have always been in touch with her more negative emotions, but she wore her heart on her sleeve and wasn't afraid to say very heartfelt, moving things. It had caught DeLune off guard more than once; they would be having a shallow conversation and Jubilee would say something so casually that it would take DeLune a moment to understand the depth of feeling behind it.

Jubilee had always been this way, ever since DeLune had met her. She loved so fiercely and with everything that she had that it had scared DeLune in the beginning. She just hadn't been on the receiving end of such an intense, unashamed love very often before Jubilee.

It didn't surprise her that Jubilee had said this, per se, but it had shown her another layer of Jubilee's love for her, and it had made her realize how deep that love went. Trying to measure how much Jubilee loved her was like trying to dig to find the end of a dandelion root; you started out digging a small hole but soon you were in a hole six feet deep with no sign of the end.

Jubilee loved everyone deeply, but Jubilee also loved her the most, and DeLune could see how that influenced Jubilee's actions, even in things so small as walking between DeLune and the street, or pouring water or wine for her first. Love showed through in everything Jubilee did for her, big or small--or even big being disguised as small, as it was now.

"What did I ever do to deserve you," DeLune murmured.

"You existed, and you decided to love me," Jubilee said, pressing a kiss to DeLune's forehead. "How could I not repay that with every inch of me?"

Jubilee loved deeply and fiercely and without hesitation. Sometimes that got her into trouble, mostly because she was a giver: she would give all of herself if it meant helping out someone she loved. Jubilee sometimes had a hard time knowing if she was giving too much.

A small part of DeLune worried that that was the case in this situation.

"You're giving too much up for me," DeLune said softly.

"I couldn't live with myself if I didn't," Jubilee said, brushing a thumb over DeLune's cheek. "I couldn't live in bliss without you by my side, it wouldn't be right. This is the only choice for me to make."

"I want you to be happy."

"You make me happy. And if my god can't see that, can't see how wonderful of a person you are, how kind and caring and giving you are? If my god can't see that, I don't think he's a god who deserves my worship." Jubilee shrugged, a little helplessly. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me. What kind of god would ask me to give that up? What kind of a fool would I be to listen?"

DeLune, instead of responding, cupped Jubilee's face in her hands and kissed her, kissed her hard, trying to put every ounce of love she had for her into the kiss because Jubilee loved her so much so easily and DeLune felt like she didn't show enough love in return.

When they parted, Jubilee rested her forehead against DeLune's.

"I love you, DeLune. With all that I am, I love you."

"And I love you, darling." DeLune's eyes darted away from Jubilee's face. "I have a hard time showing it sometimes, but I love you. You mean the world to me, dear. There's no one else I would rather have by my side."

"There's no place I would rather be," Jubilee said, smiling. "Not heaven, not anywhere." Jubilee cupped DeLune's face and gently urged her to look at her again. "Not once, DeLune, not once have I felt unloved by you. You may not show it in the same ways I do, but you still show your love. I've learned to recognize it, and I cherish every display of affection."

"How do I show love?" DeLune asked.

If she was being honest, she felt like she didn't show Jubilee love often enough. She felt insecure in the face of Jubilee's love, deep and wide like the ocean as it was. She felt like she was bringing a bucket to the beach in hopes of measuring up to that depth.

"Your pet names for me," Jubilee said simply. "You buy me gifts. You spend more time with me than anyone else. You cuddle with me and hold me when I'm sad."

"Those are everyday things."

"Exactly, DeLune. Every day you show me love in numerous ways, important ways. You call me “darling” and “dear” to show the world that I'm not only “Jubilee” to you, but that I'm something special, something extra, something more. You buy me gifts, sometimes before I even realize that I need the thing you bought me, because you notice things in a way that I don't. You spend so much time with me, even if we're not doing anything special, because you want to be around me and you want me to be around you in turn. You cuddle me, you let me hold you, you hold me, and that means the world to me because I'm a very touch-oriented person. I…I never feel unloved when I'm with you."

Jubilee smiled at her, and DeLune could practically feel the fondness and affection and love radiating off of Jubilee, all for her. It crashed into her like waves against her cliffs, and like millions of years passing by in seconds, she felt her cliffs crumble to sand.

DeLune buried her face in the crook of Jubilee's neck and clutched her to her, immersing herself in the steady, purposeful waves of Jubilee's breathing and heartbeat.

"You do enough for me," Jubilee told her. "You're enough for me, more than enough."

"You've loved me from the start," DeLune said. "You loved me even when I didn't love you yet. You've loved me so long, so deeply."

"DeLune, I question anyone who could meet you and not love you."

DeLune let out a huff of laughter despite herself. "Then you're going to be questioning a lot of people, darling. I'm not always well liked."

"Well, they're dumb."

Jubilee said it with such certainty and such surety that DeLune had to laugh.

"They are!" DeLune could hear the smile in her voice. "If they can't see how wonderful you are, they're dumb. That's it, that's the bottom line."

"Thank you, darling."

"Of course." DeLune felt Jubilee press a kiss to her hair. "And of course I loved you, DeLune. I'm a good judge of character, I knew that there was something kind in you. And I've found it, and it's so much better than I could've imagined."

"If you keep talking like this I might cry."

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" The smile was back in her voice. "We can't have people knowing Claire DeLune Candor cries."

"It would ruin my reputation," DeLune said, smiling. "I would just be known as some old woman who cries because her girlfriend says nice things to her."

"Exactly. We can't have that." Jubilee pressed another kiss to her hair. "One last thing before we stop talking about this in order to save your reputation."

"Yes, darling?"

"You mean the world to me and I love you and you're good to me and I don't think I'll stop loving you as long as I live and beyond."

"Good. You know too much about me, I can't let you leave."

Jubilee laughed. "Yes, I know far too much. Like how you're a little spoon."

"Stop."

"Or how you only like marmalade on your toast."

"You're spilling all of my secrets, Jubilee."

"Or how you cough like you're trying to scare away a tarrasque but sneeze like a kitten."

"However will I go on with the world knowing this about me?" DeLune sighed dramatically.

"Or how one time when we were having sex you planned out a steam engine while eating me out and drew the schematics on my back once you were done so you wouldn’t forget."

"I didn't know where the paper was and I was in a hurry, Jubilee. My memory isn't what it used to be, and I knew that if I forgot how I designed that steam engine I would never remember it."

Jubilee laughed again and pressed a kiss to DeLune's forehead.

"I love you," Jubilee said.

"I love you too."

There was silence for a time, and they just basked in each other's company.

"What time is it, do you know?" DeLune asked suddenly.

"About ten. Why?"

"You mentioned marmalade and now I've got a craving for a good piece of toast, and I'm wondering if it's too late to make some."

Jubilee laughed, loud.

"Another piece of blackmail: your weird cravings."

"This is far from the weirdest craving I've had," DeLune pointed out. "You should've seen me when I was pregnant."

"I can only imagine," Jubilee said. She pressed another kiss to DeLune's forehead. "Let's go make toast."

#roselyn talks #i posted this in the discord for dndb but i didn't get a lot of validation so i'm posting ithere #roselyn's writing #JubiLune #DeLune tag #jubilee tag #idk man #i've graduated from ''haha DeLune super sexy oof hot'' to ''why not make her just. the biggest dork''#like don't get me wrong she's still super sexy and im in love with her #but like. dumbassery makes me weak #hence the last part of this fic #idk my dude #i just get emotional about them a lot and i wrote this yesterday and it was like god herself channeled the Gay through my hands

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laurabancroft · 4 years

Text

Warmth

Blaine wasn’t sure when exactly their relationship had changed.

Maybe it was their first sleepover, when Blaine had asked to borrow Jude’s sweater in the November chill. They were fourteen years old, had only really been friends for a month or so, but Jude’s mom had said he could have one friend over to stay.

“Hey, Jude?”

“Yeah?”

It was dark. They’d long since packed up the video games, wolfed down their dinners, and changed into their pyjamas. Blaine was on the air mattress, which had been blown up beside Jude’s bed. He’d been given Ben10 themed bedding for it. “Sorry,” Jude had said with a grin. “My old stuff becomes our spares.”

Blaine didn’t know what hour it was, but he’d not managed to fall asleep, and it seemed Jude hadn’t either.

“Can I borrow a sweater?”

“Sure. You cold?”

“A little.”

He heard Jude’s sheets rustling as he climbed out of bed, his footsteps padding across the room to his closet and back again.

“Here, it’s my softest one.” Blaine could barely see Jude handing him the lump of fabric through the darkness.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Night, Blaine.”

“Night, Jude.”

He pulled the sweater over his head, and true to Jude’s word, it was thick and fleecy on his skin.

Jude climbed back into his bed and Blaine pulled the sheets back over himself. They lay in silence for a few minutes, and he heard Jude roll over.

“Blaine?”

“Yeah?”

“You warmer?”

Blaine turned himself to face Jude. “A little.”

“You can…if you’re too cold, you can get in here. If you want.”

Blaine paused.

“Sorry, that was weird, you don’t have to – oh, okay.”

Jude was cut off as Blaine climbed into the single bed. They were a little too old and a little too big to comfortably share, but after all – their aim was warmth. Their faces were just inches apart, and Blaine felt awkward not knowing where to put his arms before he felt Jude’s settle around his waist, and he did the same to him.

Their knees knocked together as they relaxed into each other’s presence. Blaine wasn’t sure which of them had started it, but they were both subconsciously dancing their fingertips in circles, up and down each other’s backs.

He was warmer now.

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

Maybe it was two weeks later, when the five of them were walking into town, and Jude had stopped them all to take pictures of the flowers growing out of the hedgerows.

“C’mon, Jude!” Shane was impatient. “We’ve gotta be home by eight!”

“Hey, he’ll only be a minute.” Micah sidled beside him with a smile. “These’ll look great, Jude. You’ve really got the lighting for it.”

Jude smiled, and turned to Blaine. “Can I get one of you sat with the flowers?”

“Oh sure,” Erin rolled her eyes jokingly. “Nothing for the rest of us.”

“Oh hush, you’re all pretty,” Jude replied with a blush. “Blaine’s just wearing colours that contrast really well with the scenery, and it would make a really interesting photo, and -”

“Just take the pictures, Jude,” Micah encouraged him.

“Blaine?” Jude asked again, and Blaine felt a warmth within him at his friend’s smile.

“Oh, yeah, sure, where do you want me?”

Jude spent the next five minutes repositioning Blaine, taking pictures whilst the others watched on. He could see Shane bouncing in the corner of the eye, and at the realisation that he was distracting the two of them, Micah took him out of their view to wait.

“Okay, just, turn your head a little – no, to the left, okay, that’s nice,” Jude said, taking a few shots. He looked down at the camera screen displaying the shots and frowned.

“Hm, not quite.”

“Not quite?”

Jude looked up and put the camera down where he’d been stood. He walked towards Blaine, crouching where he was. He brought his hand to Blaine’s arm, using his fingertips to nudge it down just slightly.

“There,” He said, gently, taking a step back to look.

“Good?”

Jude’s eyebrows furrowed again. “No,” he crouched back down, touching his fingertips to Blaine’s jaw to adjust his head.

Blaine didn’t know if he’d ever flushed so much in his life.

“There,” Jude said softly, with a smile when Blaine flicked his eyes to meet his. “Don’t move,” he ordered, going back to his position and picking up his camera.

Blaine’s face burned for weeks where Jude had touched him.

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

Maybe it was when Jude had been crying at school, a few days before they’d let out for winter break.

“Jude?”

When Jude hadn’t turned up to meet for lunch, Blaine had gone looking for him. He’d found him crying, hidden in a corner of an empty classroom.

Jude didn’t respond. He was curled in on himself, almost screaming with the sobs, ripping through Blaine like fire.

He sat down only an inch away, feeling helpless. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to help.

All he could do was place an arm around Jude, pull him close, comfort him as gently as he could with quiet words and small strokes of his ribs.

He pressed a small kiss to the top of his head.

Jude’s crying calmed at that, and Blaine spent the rest of his lunch hour holding Jude, in Jude’s arms, hearing about what they’d said to Jude.

When the bell had rung for classes to start back up, they’d looked at each other for a moment, and Jude buried his head into the tender of Blaine’s neck.

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

Maybe it was when the five of them went to see Marley and Me at the New Year.

Blaine wasn’t sure why Micah had suggested it – he knew he’d read the book, he’d told him he’d cried over it.

But at least it gave him a chance to hold Jude’s hand.

Their fingers intertwined only ten minutes in, thumbs rubbing gently over the backs of each other’s hands, heads leant against each other.

Even after the film had ended, they had walked hand in hand to the mall for food. Well, Blaine thought, not quite hand in hand, but their knuckles bumped together as they walked together, Erin in front of them tapping away on her phone, Shane and Micah leading the group. They were a little too close together, Blaine thought.

He’d looked at Jude when the other boy wrapped his little finger around Blaine’s. Jude gave a soft smile, looking down to the ground before looking ahead.

“So,” he murmured. “Micah and Shane?”

Blaine sighed.

“I don’t know.”

“Have you noticed anything at home?”

“No. Not yet.” Blaine admitted.

“Yet?”

“I think – I think they’re up to something. I’m just not sure – to what depth.”

Jude nodded. “I can see that.”

“I’m worried,” Blaine confessed. “You know my dad isn’t - well – tolerant.”

Jude gave a sad smile. “We’ll keep an eye on them.”

He wrapped his hand fully around Blaine’s and gave a tight squeeze, their eyes meeting and lasting just a moment too long before he let go.

Jude’s hands had been warm against his own.

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

Maybe it was when they’d shared a bed. Again. Or the other time.

Their sleepovers had become more and more frequent as more and more arguments transpired between Bart and Marlene. Shane was sent to Micah’s, and Blaine to Jude’s. The two brothers would share a look as they were separated for the night, a quick hug before they left their home.

Blaine was laid under the blanket with Jude.

“I think they’re going out.” He whispered, feeling the sob go through him as he was held by Jude.

“Shh, shh, - Blaine,” Jude’s voice was tender. “Blaine – it’ll be okay, you’ll both be okay.”

“I’m so -” Blaine shook in Jude’s arms. “I’m so scared, Jude.”

He was. He was terrified of what could happen to Shane, to Micah, if Bart found out.

He’d caught them the week before. They were in the Anderson’s kitchen, Shane leaning over Micah against the breakfast bar, his hand slipping under Micah’s shirt and settling on his hip. Blaine had turned away and left.

“They know they can come here,” Jude murmured, talking through Blaine’s curls, where his face was buried. “You all know my mom would have any of you, any day of the week, no questions asked.”

“I know, but that doesn’t-”

“That doesn’t stop the fear, I know. I know.”

“Jude-”

“We’ll all be okay in the end. I promise you, Blaine, we will.”

Blaine just curled into Jude’s chest, his hand reaching under his shirt to touch gently at his skin and hug tighter. He could still taste the earlier lemonade they’d been drinking on his tongue. He could hear the birds outside, chirping in the early hours the boys were still awake in. He could smell Jude’s mom’s washing detergent on the sheets and on Jude’s shirt, and he could smell Jude.

It was January, but he smelt of summer heat.

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

Maybe it had never changed, Blaine thought, stood in all black at the cemetery. Maybe he had just – finally started noticing.

The last conversation he and Jude had had – he wasn’t sure he’d ever tell a soul. How they’d talked, avoiding talking about their feelings but confronting them all the same. How they’d shared a hesitant press of their lips before breaking apart.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Blaine.” Jude had said with a smile. He had been quiet, but content, Blaine could tell, and he adjusted the camera strap on his shoulder before he turned to leave.

That day had ended for Blaine with so much hope, only for the next to begin numb.

He stood over the grave, the last to leave after he’d sent the others away. Shane had shot him a knowing look as he’d left.

He held the umbrella over himself, but his face was damp all the same. He shivered, thinking of Jude’s sweater that was still resting in Blaine’s closet.

He was fifteen, and he was cold.

#daltonfic #dalton big bang 2020 #blude

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dat-town · 5 years

Text

wish upon the sea

Characters: prince!Brian (Young K) & siren!You

Setting: a bit darker, twisted Little Mermaid au

Genre: romance, action, fantasy

Warnings: mentions of blood, death

Words: 5.7k

Author’s notes: I use the name Brian since Young K in this story is supposed to be the son of Prince Eric and Ariel, so a Korean name would have been weird, hopefully you won’t mind.

Dedicated: happy birthday, my dearest @restlessmaknae! ♥♥♥ I cannot put into words the happiness that feels me becausee of the close bond we share and that we can live through so many wonderful experience together. Thank you for letting me be not just a big sister but a best friend as well. Wish you all the best and welcome to the club among the girls in their 20s! Love ya! ♥

Once upon a time there was a prince who fell in love with a mermaid.

It was a truly heart-fluttering love story, everyone in the kingdom found Ariel lovely and kind-hearted despite her clumsiness and Prince Eric was often jokingly called a lucky bastard to have her by his side.

In a few years the couple had a child, a boy with charms like his dad’s and hair as red as the brightest coral in the sea just like his mom’s. The boy grew up to be a fine swordsman, a chevalier with the softness of the waves of seas on calm spring days. He was a good man, people said, everyone loved their handsome and kind prince and so many daughters wished to be the lucky one to have that golden heart of his. However, the prince's heart was already taken, swimming in fondness for the endless blues as he fell in love with the sea.

Ever since he was a little boy, Prince Brian and the sea were inseparable. As the castle was built on a shore not too far from the water, growing up he had spent a lot of time there playing in the sand, swimming, searching for pearls underwater. He liked the calmness and rhythmical waves coming to stroke his ankle as his feet sank into the mud, he liked the wildness of it when storms were raging over in the open fields and he liked that it had its borders but seemed to sweep through everywhere reaching every part of the world. There was something – something unexplainable and mysterious – about this giant of a sassy lady that attracted him and never let him go. He was under its spell and couldn't escape even if he wanted to.

No wonder he decided to join the royal marines as soon as he finished his training at the Academy. Being a sailor himself, his father (being the king by that time) was proud of him and supported his choice even if it meant the prince being away, on the open waters under the sparkling stars most of the time. But from time to time he came home, just like the tide always returned. He found his way back to the place where he fell for the depth and beauty of the sea.

He often found himself on the sandy beach by the water, watching it change various colours under the sunset. Sometimes he just watched it from the castle and certain times he wasn't even alone.

"Do you miss it?" he asked staring ahead at the endless sea as he stood next to his mother on the balcony. Her long red hair was decorated with jewellery made from sea shells and her locks swirled in the gentle night breeze behind her back. She had that kind of longing in her eyes that the prince couldn't understand until he didn't experience homesickness during his travels. There was no regret in those eyes, just a soft kind of sadness of losing something precious to gain another.

"It's hard not to when the sea calls for me constantly," Queen Ariel said in a gentle voice, almost like a sigh and her son couldn't even imagine the loss she felt. When she had given up on her tail to get legs, it hadn’t been the only thing she willingly let go off.

The sea's rules were strict. You couldn't turn your back on it without paying a price and every merbeing knew what it meant to leave their home behind: they could never go back.

So the prince was curious and he had matured a lot during his overseas training. Hence, he dared to ask the question he never asked out loud before.

"Do you regret it?" he whispered with eyes trained on the azure waves he loved so much.

He had been travelling throughout the Seven Seas for years now but he hadn't had the chance to stumble upon any merbeing like the ones told in his mother's tales. But her family, as she called the tribe, had always been a careful one, avoiding being in the centre of attention until Ursula's short but deadly rule. By now there was peace over the waters again.

"Choosing your father over being a mermaid? No. It's not regret. I only wish there would have been another way," the Queen shook her head staring ahead. Her honey voice was filled with nostalgia and melancholy. "But the sea is a selfish creature, a jealous lover. You can never win against it."

The prince hummed, knowing. This was a lesson he had been taught ever since he was young. He was warned to be always wary of the sea as what it gave, it could take it away just as easily. And yet, there was something out there that attracted him like flame enchanted the butterflies, he had always found his way back to it.

"Will you leave again, son?" Ariel turned her back on the stormy waves and stroke a smooth hand over the young man's face. The red locks he had got after her created a great contrast against the dark night even under the white moonlight. He was as bright as fire in the darkness.

"As soon as the maps are ready," he nodded firmly, worry evident in his eyes as he looked over the horizon. "There are more and more pirate ships around the border. We need to show them they can't hang around here. They should leave."

Politics had been a mess but the ongoing, endless wars against the Pirate Nation had been even worse. There was nothing they could negotiate with. The pirates lived for spilling blood, they weren't satisfied with anything, they always wanted more and more. More money, more freedom, more blood in the oceans. But Brian wasn't just going to let them win.

"Be careful," the Queen patted his cheek with the softest smile only mothers could make because no matter how old her son was, he was still her giggling little boy who had played with crabs and little fish in the ankle-high water by the beach.

"As always, mom," Brian promised, leaning his head into the motherly touch.

Cold breeze passed between them, bringing the forecasting of something bad coming from the sea but neither of them listened. Humans never did.

The sea wasn't a graveyard just for wrecked ships and poor souls but for broken promises and lost loves too. It had buried more than human recollection could hold onto.

And soon, you were going to join the ruins under, you were sure of it.

Handcuffed to the mast out in the open pirate ship, close but still so far away from your precious sea, you already felt like dying. Your human legs had become awfully dry due to the lack of water and every movement hurt as the blood in your veins got warmer than normal. Fever did no good to you as you leaned your sweaty forehead against the wood. Closing your eyes you imagined swimming home without a care. You really didn't want to think of all the possibilities of being sold or that they would scrap the scales off of your tail. Pirates didn't treat you as a woman even if only one huge man shirt was thrown over your bare, lithe body. In their eyes, you were an animal, being half-fish, half-human. They had big mouth, spits and swear words but their eyes couldn't lie. You saw it in their eyes, the fear and the attraction humans had towards mermaids, your unearthly beauty. But without your power, without your song, you were nothing but a tied up barely girl, useless and harmless. You hated being so weak.

"Ship on the horizon!" someone hollered in terrible dialect from the ship's bow and it was enough to stir up the waters around. Pirates all around you got their lazy asses up and with weapons in hands they rushed to prepare the ship for an attack.

"'Capt’ it's the Royal Marines," another one cried out as the three ships became more distinguishable in far-sight.

"Of course, they are," the wood-legged man snorted in disgust but the grin on his ugly face only showed satisfaction. This was just what he wanted, that was why they came here in the first place: to demolish the King's navy. Or at least his precious son and only heir. Victory could never taste as sweet as a revenge upon those who took everything from him.

Being so tired and weak, you were barely able to realize what was going on until someone splashed water into your face and shrieking you awakened from your half-lulled dream.

"The show must begin, little songbird. Are you ready to sing?" the Captain grinned at you, yellow teeth on full display as he was panting so close to your face. Disgusted, you turned your head away.

Or at least, you would have turned it but then suddenly you were yanked onto your wobbly feet by your chains and you almost fell onto your knees being ever so weak in your human legs you never really learned how to use.

"Now listen to me, doll," the pirate continued on, as he grabbed your chin and forced you to look him in the eyes, dark as the deepest pits of the sea. "Don't even think about escaping, I will kill you before you could leave the 100 meter radius of this ship. You just need to awake a storm and sing a pretty song to the sailors coming at us, okay? If you do a good job, then maybe I will reward you or if I'm feeling generous I might even let you go. What about that?"

"I- I cannot sing..." you croaked out, voice hoarse from being kept like a dog for days now. Without water you barely survived, how could he think you were still able to do what he wanted you to?

"Oh, silly girl, you think I don't know that?" the man huffed out and tossed you a huge canne of water. You were like a lunatic on verge of dying because of thirst based on the way you caught on that. You gulped down the oh so sweet, salty sea water and you felt your blood buzzing in excitement. Power, finally.

"Now sing!" the captain ordered once all his men put something into their ears to dull your enchanting voice. This way it couldn't affect. You grimaced at the smart move and when you were dragged to the side of the ship, you opened your mouth to sing.

Whenever you let that lulling melody fall from the tip of your tongue, you felt powerful, almost invincible. But now, you could barely hit the right tones. You thought you wouldn’t be able to summon anything at this rate but the sea, taking pity on you, started stirring up around the ship, clouds darkening above and the first drops of rain felt like a miracle on your dry skin. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting out a deep breath before starting that song again, the one that allured so many sailors into the loving arms of death.

The three ships of navy got closer in the meantime and the first roar of cannon made you tremble. The second made you fall as the pirate holding on your chains lost his balance and pulled you with him. Out of breath, you collapsed onto the wood board. You couldn't keep up. That much of water after being dried under the Sun didn't even give you enough strength to transform back into your full form. You could barely answer to the pull of the sea by finding your voice and that sweet melody.

You stopped singing, pushing him away as his hands grabbed on your shirt to stop you from escaping. Not like you could go far away with those metals around your ankle and the ties around your wrists but at least you wouldn’t be a puppet on string in a useless fight. You couldn’t wait for the ship to sink anyway.

“Why did you stop singing, little birdie?” The pirate clicked his tongue, following you to the mast where you tried to get the chain off in vain. He grabbed on your waist hauling you up.

“I’m not your songbird,” you gritted your teeth, angry, feeling the power of sea so close. You knew it had your back. You were so so mad, you could have killed this pirate with bare hands, only if you’d had your powers!

Everybody was running around on the ship, cannons fire shots, the ship tilted to one side and then the other as it got closer and closer to the maelstrom created closeby. You knew the power of the sea, a vortex like this could drag down whole armadas. A few pirate ships and three navy ones were like a children play.

You hung onto the mast as the navy ship got next to the one you were on in the next circle it took down the spiral. You kicked and hit until the pirate had to put you down and when he tried to lay his dirty hands on you again, you bit into his finger and just as he screamed in pain, you wrapped your own ties around his neck and squeezed it as long as you heard him breathe. Just another dead body as a sacrifice to the sea, you have seen them fall one by one anyway. The marines obviously overpowered them but you didn’t care about the gunshots and the screams and the blood spilling all around. You tried to get rid of your chains with trembling hands.

"There's a girl here! Help, they kept a girl as a hostage!" Someone hovered over you out of the blue. With a knife in one hand, he made a quick job with the rope tie around your hands, getting those off of your bruised wrists but you couldn’t help but flinch when the cold metal touched your skin and for a moment you thought he was going to dig it deep into your still heart. However, he hadn’t touch you like this, his eyes quickly skimmed through your body until he find the metal cage around your bare ankle. Only when he finished getting rid of the chain, you looked up at the stranger.

Marks of the battle were evident on his features in red split lines but his hands were warm and gentle as he covered you with his own jacket probably thinking you were cold in that thin shirt thrown upon you. He put a hand over the small of your back, pulling you up by the elbow with the other. He treated you as if you were fragile, harmless... human.

As if he was a mere fever dream you could only blink at him in awe, at his hair shining like the ardent, burning-hot colour of the sunset, so different from your own ink-like locks. And his eyes, those brown orbs, even with the fighter spirit in them, were so warm even your cold, cold heart felt the tremble as your gazes met.

"You're safe now," he said oh so softly but how a naive soul he was! The battle wasn't over yet and if it were, it wouldn't have been you who had to be afraid. He had no idea what you were capable of, how many hearts you had taken already. He held you as you stared at him, the first one to help you in order to save you from a possible unfair death on a pirate ship and then another cannon ball slammed into the wooden body of the ship.

"Lieutenant, get out of there!" Someone from the other ship brushing so close to this yelled but it was too late.

The fire of the fiery shot had already reached the gunpowder under the deck and it exploded like magical fireworks in the sky. The whole ship shook with the power of it, the wooden floor collapsed beneath you and the two of you fell into the water amongst the ruins of the pirate ship.

As soon as your skin made contact with the salty sea water, it felt like rebirth. Life was breathed into your burning lungs and you finally arrived home. You felt the scars heal, the bleeding stop and in the dark water lit by the orange of fire, you transformed: human legs got colour, covered by turquoise scales. Golden dots tainted tail and breast covered by finlike pattern, you got rid of the shirt and jacket to take a deep breath from the oxygen-filled water.

There were so many different feelings in you that wanted to break out. Anger, happiness and sadness all alike. You wanted to avenge what these pirates did to you but they were doomed to die anyway, the sea, the Mighty, was just as angry as you were. On the other hand you were finally free, you could have just swimmed away, away from this madness not looking back. But as you made the first movement to leave, you saw him, the soldier, the lieutenant who helped you, his body slowly sunk under as his muscles were on the verge of fighting against his lungs screaming for oxygen. He didn't deserve to die, that much was sure. He was caring and understanding even if he didn't know you. He was the first to treat you like a human being and as you watched him close his eyes, hands reaching for the surface, you couldn't just let him die. Not like that.

In a span of a moment, you decided against your life instincts. It wasn't usual for your kind to be kind to humans, much less saving them. But he deserved so much more than being another dead body in the sea among those ruthless pirates. You swam up to him until your bodies collided, flesh against flesh. He looked vulnerable and fragile now with his eyes clothes, body heavy as the sea pulled him down. You filled your lungs with oxygen and pressed your mouth against his, forcing his lips open so you could exhale the sweet air into his screaming lungs.

A kiss of the Sea.

When Prince Brian awakened he didn’t know where he was and how he got there.

Prying his eyes open he could see sand and palm trees, faintly he heard the murmurs of the sea. It didn’t take too much time to figure out that he was washed up to a beach after he fell into the water. With that realization, memories came back to him about the storm, the pirates, the fight and… the girl! He certainly remembered a pure-looking girl with hair like the darkest night and eyes like coal that heat up the castle back home. He wondered what her came to be, whether she survived the shipwreck and he wished to know where the rest of his crew was. He remembered falling into the sea after the explosion but if he had survived, they had to be alive as well, right? They were probably out looking for him.

He sat up, head hurting from the sudden movement but as he looked up at the shore he immediately knew where he was.

Home.

Up there he saw the castle and away a bit there was their bay. He somehow got to the beach he used to play at as a child when he was miles and miles away fighting pirates. Just how long he had been out? How long the sea had carried him on its back? How was this even possible? He wondered but thanked every deity that he had gotten home safely, so he could keep his promise made to his mother.

A moment later a dark shadow moved behind a huge rock by the beach and the prince immediately sprang to his feet.

“Hey, wait! Yes, you, please...” he yelled at the stranger, voice pleading because he had this gut feeling that there was something very important there. When the shadow didn’t move, neither closer, nor farther away, he took tentative steps by the seaside to approach the rock. Just as he passed by the rock, he noticed a girl in the water, the same from the pirate ship with her warm eyes and dark locks, but there was something different about her. At first, his eyes fell upon the naked shoulders of her, her long hair spreading all around her on the surface of the water, then he realized that the most outstanding of it all was the blue of her skin, the gill opening on her neck and the scattered golden scales along her body.

“You… you are a mermaid,” he whispered in awe suddenly remembering all the tales his mother had told him. His miraculous appearance here also made more sense because of it.

“I just wanted to make sure you are alive,” she said in a dulcet voice as if it was natural. He was actually glad she stayed and not just because she was the first mermaid (apart from his own mother of course) he had the chance to meet. He was indeed grateful.

“Did you bring me all the way here?” he asked and she simply nodded, watching him curiously. Brian wondered whether she found him just as interesting as he found her. It wasn’t because she wasn’t human but because she acted like one. Even his mother told him that her kind was brought up by the ruthless sea itself, so they believed in kill or to be killed. Befriending and saving humans was something that went against their own ethical codex. In some tribes it even meant betrayal, yet she took the risk for him, so he felt immense gratitude.

“Thank you,” he told her, words genuine even though he wasn’t sure she understood what it meant for him and why he wanted to know more about her. “Do you oft–”

He wanted to know if she visited this shore regularly, whether they had a chance to meet again, whether she would be up for a talk but life had got in-between.

“Your Highness!” a royal guard hollered and the mermaid swam away with the sound of quick flacks on the sea’s surface following her.

The prince looked after her, at the wavy sea, yearning for something even his heart couldn’t name.

You tried your best to forget him, to not miss him but all in vain. Once you were back with your tribe, you told them about your capture, the fight and how you escaped. It was hard not to tell them about the handsome prince who was there too but it would have been a stupid move on your part telling them that you blessed him with the gift of Sea. Not all of them would have been so understanding.

It was a silly thing, wasn't it? Being so enamoured with someone despite barely knowing anything about them. All you knew was that he was kind-hearted and not disgusted by your type. From a human, it was more than enough.

So you caught yourself hanging around the beach more, his beach to be more precise. He liked to take early morning jogs there - you definitely did not stare - and late night walks. Most of the times he was alone, sometimes he was with a beautiful, elder lady, hair similar to his. You were sure she was his mother but the most surprising thing was that it felt as if she was the part of the ocean too. It was a fading feeling but it was there and for a moment you couldn't believe but could it been? That the legends about the mermaid who became human were true? It would have explained why he behaved so naturally around her and why his crew was prepared enough to not get affected by her song. Everything made much more sense like this and it only added to your growing fascination with him.

You wondered whether the Sea adored or cursed at him? The child of one that got away, one that turned away from the depth? He seemed to be fine on water, he seemed rather fond of it, spending so much time around it, so you were pretty certain he also felt that pull that bind you to your home. It was just another symptom of homesickness.

After a week or so, you saw the prince getting abroad again, proud as the Lieutenant on a new ship heading towards South. You followed them from a certain distant and watched him. You told yourself it was because you didn't want him to stumble upon your tribe but actually your heart yearned for something even you couldn't explain. Maybe you wanted those soft eyes on you again, his gentle touch and kind words. You really weren't sure.

But it seemed like the Sea listened to your untold prayers when a storm came, a powerful one as you felt it in your fibers, the waves crashing to every rock with a power so harsh you trembled. It gave you an excuse to step out of the shadows under the moonlight, when almost everyone was sleeping on the ship. You had seen the prince walk back and forth every night alone on the deck, so that day you waited for him.

You psted at him trying to get his attention when he indeed walked out from his cabin with a simple white shirt hanging from his wide-shouldered figure. He looked around confused then you let out a whisper again and he ran to the side of the ship looking down at the water, seeing you above the service.

"Oh so I was right about being followed!" He muttered but there was nothing negative in his voice only wonder. You didn't even expect him to but then he climbed over the fence after throwing down a rope ladder and he climbed down until his boots touched the surface of water.

"I didn't get your name last time," was the first thing he said and it's ridiculous.

"That's not what's important now," you argued as you held onto the ladder too to keep it up easier against the wild current. "There's a huge storm coming. You need to turn more West to not run into it."

That's it, that's what you wanted to tell him, it's time to go, you reminded yourself and let go off the rope but at his voice you turned back.

"Hey! Don't go," he whisper-yelled after you and he sounded desperate. You had never heard anyone talk to you like that. As if the mere thought of you leaving again had been painful for him. "Why are you helping us?"

"You helped me last time," you reasoned but the prince seemed both a bit doubtful and a bit hopeful.

"Is that it? Just this?"

His voice wasn't accusing but curious and it felt like as if he wanted it to be more. It made you smile.

"What else would be there?" You raised a brow playful and something similar reflected in his eyes too as he leaned closer, letting go of the rope with one hand. What a daring, reckless man he was!

"Don't you feel this pull?"

Oh the one like waves? The one that followed the moon? The gravity? That strange power that attracted you to him? Your smile was like a secret love song whispered to the Sea, yet he caught sight of it as you blushed under the milk honey coloured light.

"To the West. Don't forget, my Prince," you reminded him and swam away with your ever still heart beating crazily against your ribcage.

Of course, Brian listened to you. He had nothing to lose. The journey was a bit longer with that detour which meant a more cranky crew because of they ran out of food and rum sooner than expected. But at least everyone survived. Even like this, the ship was tossed around in the water by the waves that came from the darkened part on the ocean. He knew that if it hadn’t been for you, they would have gone straight to the danger zone. So he was grateful but also even more curious than before. You were more playful than he thought at first, but then again, you met on the rim of death, of course you weren't joking with him back then.

He still didn't know your name and he who had found so many treasures, who had fought so many pirates and enemies, he was determined to change that. So he lost more and more sleep in order to meet you. Because yes, he had caught sight of you some nights when the Moon was high in the sky and your tail shone in all colours of the rainbow. Then at some point, you stopped being shy and only watch the ship from afar, you swam closer and closer until he spent half of his nights sitting on that rope ladder talking to you.

Those midnight rendezvous became your favourite part of the days. Just to listen to him talk about his duties as the prince and lieutenant, his worries about his country, his dreams, places he wants to see. In exchange you told him about your life underwater, your sisters in the tribe and how peaceful the waters had been around here until the pirates came. It turned out you had a common enemy in those dirty men. Both of you wanted to get rid of them, so you offered your help. It was a pretty cool deal, though both of you knew it was just an excuse. The only setback was the danger itself but you had never been one to give into fear so easily. You wouldn't have been alone anyway. Spending time with the prince wasn't too bad either.

"So tomorrow?" you looked up at him one night knowing that the next day you would reach the Triangle of Cages, the bay of pirates where you were told not to be able to leave once you're inside. But you had the element of surprise with you and with your skills you could help the crew.

"Yeah. Tomorrow," the Prince sighed, looking up at the Moon. He had some kind of melancholy in his eyes and you could easily tell that he was worried. Nobody knew how many pirates would be there and he only had a little armada of three ships with around hundred of people. Pirates might have been uneducated and untrained but they were rough, had grown up on the Sea, so they were an enemy nobody should have underestimate.

"It's going to be okay," you told him even though you always hated these kind of cheap promises. It was a simple lie, because how could you know for sure what was going to happen? It was all in the hands of the Sea.

"But if it's not... I wanna give you something," he said, warmth swimming in his dark eyes as he took something out of his pocket. It was a bracelet made of little pearls, it was pretty. "My mother said it once belonged to the Sea. I want to return it," he said as he handed the accessory out for you.

"You want to give it to me?" you blinked at him surprised. You didn't expect him to be so sentimental.

"You're part of the Sea, aren't you?" He raised an eyebrow at you almost challengingly. You had a hard time suppressing a smile but in the meantime it was a situation so much more serious.

"You own a bit of it as well," just like from my heart.

The prince smiled down at you almost as if he knew what exactly you meant and he was gentle as he put the bracelet around your wrist, fingers drawing soft pattern onto the back of your hand as his fingers slipped off you. You immediately missed his warmth.

"I still don't know your name," he whispered which made you giggle. You pulled yourself upwards by the rope on his side and beckoned him closer with your index fingers. You looked him straight in the eyes as he leant closer, breath fanning over your lips as you whispered your name like a secret into the seam of his mouth.

At first he seemed a bit taken aback by your closeness but before you could have pulled back, playfully winking at him, he sneaked a hand behind your neck to keep you there. To hold you when his mouth slid over yours, chapped rum-flavoured lips tasting your salty ones. Your breath hitched before kissing him back, fingers slipping into his burgundy locks. You only pulled back when he almost lost his balance on the rope ladder and fell into the water with you. Both of your chuckles echoed in the night sky as the sea welcomed you back with wide arms, calm waves pulling you under. You waved before you swam under, hiding your blushed cheeks in the water.

By now, you were sure the Sea was just as enamoured with him as you were, you didn't worry about tomorrow.

Twice upon a time, a prince fell in love with a mermaid.

He never lost any more battles on the sea but he always yearned to be out there, under the stars, in her arms. He walked along the line marked with sea-washed wishes in the sand under his feet, never straying far. For once, you didn't have to take his heart because he offered willingly. He loved you more than the Sun and the Moon and all the stars, coming back to you whenever he could. So when this time his mother asked him: do you miss it? He didn't have to think of an answer, it was as sure as his heartbeat, deeply integrated in his system.

"I miss her as I would miss the air, constantly and solidly, always." He smiled but his smile was hopeful because you both knew that no matter how harsh the Sea was, it wasn't only a graveyard, it was also a cradle of your love. Of another love story of which word got around not just in the Kingdom but every wave of the ocean.

#day6 scenarios #day6 imagines #young k imagines #young k scenarios #day6 brian #day6 young k #day6 younghyun #royalty au #siren au #little mermaid au #pirate au #fantasy au #stories

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bittermarrow · 5 years

Text

Imagine Slashers With an Angel S/O: (part 2) Michael Myers

Sorry that it took me forever to finish this! This is also more of a tiny fic than Jason’s was since it got so lengthy and has a more in-depth meeting scene. (I’ll be doing Bubba’s next!)

Warnings: Nsfw at the end, but nothing graphic.

Words: 3900+ (This is embarrassingly long T-T )

Michael

Michael knows what angels are, the family he spent six years with was religious enough for him to know. Did he really care about all that stuff? No. The point is he knows or at least he assumes that's what you are when he finds you, well, in all reality you found him. It was very hard to find someone who doesn't want to be found, and you made a conscious effort to avoid any and all human contact. You didn’t like humans very much, or talking to them so you kept a low profile.

You lived in a small house you rented from the old man that had originally found you when you fell, he was nice enough- and religious enough to offer you a place to live. He and his daughter were trying to move, and apparently, no one wanted the house, so if anything he was more grateful of you taking it off his hands than you were receiving it. With the promise of protection of his family and all that God stuff, it was a bit shady for you but you were desperate.

You’re stuck living on Earth now, your wings saw no real use indoors, and since you never left you never flew. Your misuse of them is leading you down a path of some pretty bad wing cramping, so you'd have to get a good couple of flights in soon. It's not like anyone was roaming out and about anymore, Haddonfield had gotten itself quite the gruesome reputation after all.

You had heard about all the murders that went on around this time of year, you may be an outsider, but you did own a TV.

There was a barely recognizable, blurry photo of the killer’s masked face plastered all over the news station you kept on literally all day. The background noise makes you feel less alone, you may purposely isolate yourself, but that doesn't mean you don't get lonely.

It was the quiet life that most people would die for, but it really isn't all that it appears to be. You can see the appeal, but sometimes you really wished you had friends.

And then you found him, Michael Myers, The Boogeyman of Haddonfield, The infamous escapee of Smith’s Grove, being chased by cops and jumping your fence.

Why in the hell you had shouted, “Hey!” and beckoned him into your home was beyond you. It really was pitiful how lonely you must be to let in a mentally deranged psycho killer into your home.

After a long stare, he inevitably entered, seeking shelter from the police rather than the heavy downpour, and was now dripping all over the hardwood floors of your kitchen. You looked up at the towering man, only slightly beginning to regret letting him in. Why had you let him in? Maybe it was some sick form of sympathy, or maybe you just finally lost the rest of your fucking marbles, because no mentally stable person with any sort of intelligence or common sense should ever attempt to house a sociopathic serial killer.

But you did.

And there was no going back now.

The stove light caught and reflected against the cold metal in his hand, and as he stared you swallowed the dread and turned on your heel, disappearing into the hallway. The feathered drapes of white and black that dragged behind you as you padded across the creaking floors did not go unnoticed by the motionless stranger’s watchful eyes.

When you returned he had moved further into the kitchen observing his surroundings, you passed him and set a folded up blanket, a towel, and a pillow on one of the cushions of your couch. When you turned around he was inches away from you, you didn’t even hear him move. You held his soulless stare for a minute, and then walked around him and back into the hall to retire for the night. He watched you leave, with a loose grip around the handle of the stained steel blade. Maybe God really wouldn’t let him die after all…

. . .

When you woke the next morning, you crept out of the hallway and as you went to prepare your morning coffee you threw a sideways glance over to the couch. It was empty, no sign of the monster that you’d sheltered last night. But the bunched up blanket half-hanging off the cushion, and the slightly damp towel hanging over the back of the sofa told you he had no doubt been there all night. As you poured your coffee you noticed an empty slot in your rarely used knife block, puzzled, you looked around for it and saw an unfamiliar knife stained with dried blood laying on your counter.

It was not in bad enough shape to be considered useless, so the only other explanation for him leaving it was that he would be coming back for it. And for a moment -just a fleeting breath of a second, you felt the heavy gloom that had kept your mood dark for years, lifted at the thought of someone else's company. For once you didn’t mind rotting here than hot tubbing with Hades down below after you'd been banished, like you were certain you would have, had you not escaped in time.

You decided to keep the back door unlocked, just in case he did come back.

. . .

You turned out to be right when night fell and you heard the loud screech of tires skidding across asphalt, the screaming of sirens and flashing blue and red lights shining through your windows, illuminating the darkness of the room as you sat in front of the television. Your feathers stood up on end at the sound of your back door creaking open and slamming shut, and then light footsteps across your kitchen floors.

From the couch you watched Michael return the borrowed blade into its rightful spot in your knife block, swiping the familiar knife off of the marble countertop, which had been cleaned of gore. He stopped in the entryway of the living room his head tilting to the side as he caught your eyes.

You searched his eyes, but you found nothing but cold blankness in them, was he really human? Creating space for him to sit down if he chose to, your eyes transfixed themselves back onto the TV, and your fingers pulled the blanket around your shoulders a bit tighter.

You had forgotten how uncomfortable it was to be stared at, it'd been so long...

To your surprise, you felt the couch cushion shift with someone else's weight and a quick glance to your left confirmed that he had sunk down beside you— on the opposite end of the sofa, of course, keeping some space between you. You could feel his eyes on you, specifically on your wings when they shifted with a soft rustle against the back of the couch, and while you couldn’t blame him for his interest, it was still uncomfortable.

You decide to bravely turn your head and meet his eyes straight on, and you notice his dark, shaded eyes widen a fraction. But as soon as the change appeared it was gone just as quickly, his blank stare boring into your soul through the eye-holes of that dirty white-faced mask.

Seeing his face obscured by the rubber skin only strengthened the urge to look away, this guy really had the fear factor working for him. What's scarier than a psychotic murderer? One you don't know the face of. It sounds like such an unfulfilling death… not even being able to remember the face of your killer in whatever afterlife existed.

“Your name is Michael, right?” You rasp blatantly, your voice scratchy from misuse as it leaves your throat. You don’t expect him to reply, and he doesn’t. But his head tilts, much like an owl’s would, and you knew his name and bits and pieces from the news but wanted to see how he’d react— if at all to you asking. “Thought so.”

Michael continues to glare at you as if there was a specific detail about you that he didn't like.

“Do you talk? or are you just going to stare menacingly until I leave?” You manage to croak, intending to sound humorous but it came out more bitter than you'd meant.

He didn't acknowledge your attempt at a joke in the slightest, his eyes burning holes into the side of your head.

“Ah, you must be quite the strong silent type, the ladies must love you.” You let out a short chuckle, too tired to really care if you were annoying him, which you most likely were.

You turned your attention back to the flashing colors on the TV, the headlines of the news reporting several murders that no doubt had been committed by the man you so casually had let into your home. You were testing your luck with this, it was like letting in a stray cat, you never know if it’s rabid or if it's too wild to be a house pet. Best case scenario, it's going to have a few fleas and can be fixed with some TLC. Whatever the worst case scenario was you didn’t want to think about it.

You think of mentioning your own name, although you doubt he truly cares, you decide to tell him anyways.

“I’m, Y/N, by the way.” While you're unsure if he's tuning you out or not you continue, trying to shake your nerves.

“You can stay here if you want.” You can feel Michael’s eyes, but don’t bother to look back, instead, you answer whatever questions he may or may not have been silently asking. “Don’t bother to ask why. I don’t really know either.”

And that's true, you don't know why you're offering for him to stay, especially considering he that he still had a knife in hand and could easily bury it into your skull if he so chose to, at any moment your life could be cut short. And based on his size and whatever motivation he has to slaughter people, he would be able to overpower you easily.

A sickening shiver of pleasure envelopes your body at the thought, and you feel extremely weirded out by your body’s reaction to it. What the hell is wrong with you? You hide your inner conflict and clear your throat, speaking a lot less uneasily this time around.

“I don’t care what you do, but if you decide to stay I leave leftovers in the fridge and the bathroom’s down the hall, the first door on your right.”

You feel silly adding in all those details. like you knew he’d stay. Your cheeks inevitably go a bit pink at how lame you must sound. Why should you care if he starves or can’t find the bathroom? You convince yourself that it’s that sick kind of pity from the night prior, and decide to go with that, it makes the most sense to you. You sigh and get up from the couch letting the blanket slip back onto the couch and walking to fetch another pillow from your linen closet.

When you re-emerge from the hallway Michael is laying down with the blanket draped over himself, the small thing not nearly big enough to cover his feet and you are shocked to find it… oddly… —nevermind. You hold out the pillow to him and he slowly grabs it, not bothering to linger you briskly turn on your heel to leave when a hand catches your left wing. It’s enough to make you jump and let out a short shriek, you try to push out of his grasp, but it’s a futile attempt. He's much stronger than you are. Panic starts to set in as you consider your options, knowing escape isn't one of them. You look down at him, not sure if you're scared or just uncomfortable with being touched to the point of beginning to tremble.

“Let go- that hurts.”

He does, and you return to your room. You don’t know why he stopped you, but you’re not about to ask, you absentmindedly feel around the spot where his cold hand had been. Did he just want to touch you?- No, that was stupid, you were being stupid. You slip under the covers and shut out the world for another night of meaningless dreams.

So they are real. Michael had first thought you were one of those adults who were ‘never too old’ to dress up for Halloween, and when you had irritatingly not taken your ‘costume’ off after the holiday had passed he had begun to question if it really was fake. A childish thought, but when you flinched he had no doubt in his mind that those wings were attached to your back.

He stares at the plain white ceiling and lays flat on the couch, he thinks about your actions from the last night and just now. He's never had someone willingly let him into their house before, better yet invite him in. Surely with all the TV you seem to watch you know who he is, then… why? Your behavior towards him is shockingly indifferent. Like he isn't a cold-blooded murder machine with little to no sentiment or empathy, it's almost insulting.

He doesn't have to try to be intimidating, his sheer height alone is already effective enough without the extra nightmare fuel. He feeds on making people suffer, seeing their blood stain his hands and watching their faces turn blue with death. Why weren't you afraid of him? You should be, and you were for a moment when he'd reached for you.

But still, you had let him stay.

You are interesting to him, an angelic kind of figure, yet somehow darker. Your lack of fear of him must have something to do with your inhuman-ness, and while he doesn't really understand your apparent interest in him, he cannot say he hates it.

For now, you are simply a convenience to him, a place to crash and a roof over his head that isn't full of doctors and other mentally disturbed patients with petrified nurses is too good of to pass up. You're offering a good deal that he's not opposed to, at least that's how he sees it. He'll keep you alive until his urges force him to kill you, which could very well be soon if you get annoying.

. . .

It’s been months and Michael hasn’t grabbed you like that again, and you don’t bring it up, doing so would probably only earn you silence. You’ve grown used to having him around at night, and sometimes during the day, he decides to pop up. You can only assume what he does when he’s gone, and although the idea of letting him murder innocent people isn’t something that sits well on your conscience you’ve learned to live with it. Learned to live with him.

He’s grown on you somehow, it’s strange how easily you coexist together now. 90% of the time he is distant and seemingly uninterested in anything you say. But you spend an awful lot of time together, sometimes you can get him to play board games with you. He is unfairly good at them too, and you have the presence of mind to tell he likes playing them, he was always more relaxed. You have taken an initiative to talk to him. Even when you know he won’t talk back you still enjoy your conversations, no matter how one-sided they may be.

You don't know it, but he thoroughly enjoys listening to you speak, he has taken a liking to your voice. It's calming, and it's different, he was in constant silence for years at Smith’s Grove the only noises being moans of pain, meaningless chatter among staff and… Loomis. He listens a lot more than you give him credit for, and although he is often unresponsive overall, he likes that you continue to talk to him.

He doesn't want to admit it, even to himself, but he really has grown attached to you. He couldn't think of harming you now, even as unpredictable as his urges are, and when he does get them he goes out. It's better for him to separate himself from you when he’s overwhelmed by the voices in his head, telling him to hurt, to kill, to make others suffer. You're safer with him gone when he's like that, and he realizes this.

But it becomes harder to leave your side as a year goes by, he stays for days at a time now, sometimes your mere presence is enough to keep his murderous impulses at bay. Michael hasn't had someone that cared for him in his life in a very long time, and while he insists that he doesn't need to be loved he’s already making exceptions for you.

Only you can touch him, only you can soothe him, only you get to see the weaker side of Michael that is still hurting. He even let you teach him how to sign so he could communicate with you without having to talk, which you knew he didn't like doing.

He doesn’t realize how dependent you are on him, he's more thoughtful than he gives himself credit for. He notices everything, so he knows when you are upset or angry or simply having a bad day. Whether or not he is in the right place in his mind to attempt to comfort you is unpredictable, but he is trying.

He isn't the best at showing you that he cares but you know he does, he just struggles with expressing himself after all he's been through. But a particular quality about angels is they can sense discontentment in people who they are close enough to, so inevitably you begin to learn how to notice when he needs to be comforted. Michael won't initiate cuddling or let you hold him for long, but it helps him feel safe. He feels protected when he's in your arms and that can frustrate him, too many overwhelming emotions at once can lead to him pushing you away.

Don't worry, he'll always come back to you. He just needs time.

. . .

You can hardly call your relationship platonic anymore, you don't think you've been ‘just friends’ since the first time you felt his chapped lips crushing against yours one night. Not the mask’s lips, his lips. You can't recall what had originally encouraged him to kiss you or why his mask was off, but you were glad it happened.

In the beginning, he only let you press small kisses to the rubber lips if his mask, and for after awhile you were convinced he just he hadn't liked it and refrained from kissing him anymore. Suffice is to say, he noticed and became confused when you stopped doing it, he never told you to stop.

Michael began initiating affection more after that, but the mask stayed on for a while even after being together so long.

One of Mikey’s very favorite things about you were your wings, he has a bit of an odd fascination with them. He touches them quite a lot. You could be in his lap or his head in yours, or simply walking by and you’d feel him reach out to give them a good pet. You can't say you minded even if you did find it odd, you embraced any and all affection that Michael had to offer. This is because there were only a few times where he's loose enough to touch you without you asking him to.

He's moved from the couch into your bed to sleep since your first few encounters, and you'd found he slept much easier when he was close to you. Something about being around you comforted him and kept the night terrors at bay, there were often times where he would hallucinate or wake up from nightmares.

The first time it happened he jolted awake and reached out to grab you as if in fear that you were gone. You were half-asleep and he was shaking, so you rolled over onto your stomach so you could snake an arm around his shoulder and draped a wing over his front to keep him still.

“It’s just a bad dream, Mikey, go back to sleep.” Michael relaxed slightly under your touch, both of his arms had locked themselves tightly around you in his scramble to find you. Sensing he was still tense and not liking how tightly he was squeezing you, you mumbled something to him.

“You're safe… “

And that's when he realized how much he needed you, and that thought alone scared him more than his nightmare had.

. . .

From then on your wings have changed from a fascination to a comfort. when you do cuddle it's best to keep at least one of your feathered limbs wrapped around him. He feels secure when he's being held by you, and the more security he finds in you the longer he will allow you to hold him.

He keeps knives stashed everywhere in your house in case of emergencies, behind pictures, inside vases, between the couch cushions… hell, you'd poured yourself a bowl of cereal once and a knife fell out of the box into your mini wheats. No one fucked with your cereal. You had definitely scolded him for that, you didn't mind so much that he kept blades around the house, but in your cereal box? That's too far.

Heaven forbid someone walks into your house uninvited or with the intention to harm you, the thought of someone hurting you is enough to deny him into a boiling murderous rage. The few times your home has been invaded you've had the worst of gorey messes to clean, how the fuck did he get blood on the ceiling?

It’s not just the mess he made of your house that bothered you the most, it was the mess he would make of himself mentally afterward. When Michael thinks you have been put in danger he brings clinginess to a whole new level, he will follow you around the house for days. He even sits outside the bathroom door!

The truth is, he’s afraid to leave you alone, and it's that paranoia, that fear of losing you that makes him cling. You won't change his mind so don't bother trying to get alone time, the only thing you can do is wait it out until he can trust himself again.

NSFW

Intimacy with Michael is something that doesn't take long to develop, you've gotta realize that this man spent most of his life in a Sanitarium, so he has a lot of pent up sexual frustration.

But since sex is something Michael knows only so much about you are going to have to be his teacher. You will also have to remind him constantly to be patient in the beginning. He's eager and while that's good and all… have you seen how big he is? Like, he's definitely proportional down south so if you don't remind him to go slow he'll end up hurting you.

It doesn't take him long to learn though, he'll rarely need to be reminded of where to touch you. He’s pretty intuitive and prefers to learn things on his own, so just let him explore if you have the patience. One sensitive place he found on his own was your wings. The absolutely obscene noise you made when he had first reached down to get a good handful of feathers told him all he needed to know. Just make sure you don’t try to drag things out for too long, if there’s anything at all that Michael lacks the patience for, it’s intimacy.

#michael myers x reader #michael myers #slasher x reader #Slashers Imagines #angel!reader

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brvckin-blog · 5 years

Text

in all forms except physical i can write an intro, know that ( ! ) i’m mikhia, you can call me mikki if you want tho idc lmao, i’m eighteen, and i live my life by the word of park sooyoung. in her name we pray, amen! i’m always tryna come up with some kind of witty intro but LMAO that never happens and probs never will so this is it.......... this is what y’all get! if you wanna plot then read this shit and gimme a mf smash of that heart and i’ll hit you up! or, if you prefer plotting on d.iscord then you can find me over at YUKHEI’S WHITE GIRL LAUGH #5355 just like tell me who you are when i add you!

▶ BASIC INFORMATION

breckin rhee isn’t as innocent as he seems. on the outside they’re just another twenty-one year old junior who’s looking to get through college with a degree in biology, but let me be the first to tell you there’s more than meets the eye. although they were ingrid’s party buddy, they were the one who held her still while she was bound and gagged. hopefully nobody finds out what they did!

▶ BULLET POINT BACKGROUND

the following overview contains triggering topics such as abuse, drug use, manipulation, and murder. if any of these topics make you uncomfortable then please click away as your well being is a lot more important than the background of my character. however, just as an fyi, none of the topics are talked about in depth, just more-so mentioned!

growing up it was just breckin and his dad living in a big, isolated house at the end of a road where no one really cared to get to know one another. he never knew what happened to his mom, but he also never asked. him and his dad didn’t have the kind of relationship for that; him and his dad were never close enough to have personal conversations.

the two of them only spoke a handful of words to each other by the time the boy was ten and had been completely raised by a nanny. but then everything changed when she just didn’t show up one day and his dad decided to play the role of a parent for once. and, just like with his mom, he had no idea what happened to his former parental figure.

he was shit at it (go figure) and constantly yelled at breckin, even pushing him around and smashing his toys just cause he felt like it. he didn’t understand what he had ever done wrong and a part of him thought that this was just how every parent treated their child.

when he was twelve, he ended up finding an old camcorder and instantly fell in love with filming everything around him. it all looked so beautiful through a lens; untainted. but he was young and kids can be dumb. he ended up recording over one of the tapes inside and when his dad found out, he completely lost it.

apparently breckin had taped over an old home video of his mom, one that his dad watched frequently, and it became the catalyst for events that would change his life forever. it was the first time his dad was ever physically abusive towards him.

he doesn’t really have much memory of the event, but he does remember being at the top of the stairs filming before everything went black. he found out later that his dad had pushed him down the stairs, but it was ruled an accident and he was put back into his care after he healed.

things only got worse from there with his dad constantly telling him that he was a monster, that no one would ever love him, and that no one would care if he died. these things clawed their way down his throat and found a home in his lungs until he felt like he could no longer breathe.

as he got older and a little colder, he started fighting back and it ended up just being a big brawl between him and his dad all the time. they would literally beat the shit out of each other multiple times a week until, suddenly, it all stopped when he was sixteen.

his dad remarried and the woman brought in two younger children. then, suddenly, his dad was someone else entirely. it was like the bitter old man had been replaced by the most wholesome being in the world. he acted like a completely different person and it pissed breckin off. but it also inspired him in a way; it changed his outlook on the world around him entirely.

so he changed his personality too, became the picture perfect son who played sports and got good grades. he held up his image well, but the monster his father always told him he was never went away. it just waited under his facade until the perfect time to strike.

it was after his first real girlfriend that he decided he liked hurting people. he liked breaking their hearts because it made him feel like a god. he was the perfect boyfriend, dating girls and boys and anyone that was dumb enough to fall for his tricks. he would make sure that he was all they thought about, that they were sure they were in love with him, and then he would rip the rug right out from under them.

nothing made him happier than watching them cry and beg him not to do this. they looked so ugly and broken and he couldn’t think of anything more beautiful. he liked seeing people at their most vulnerable, got off on humiliating them.

it was around that same time that he also got into drugs, cocaine specifically, and it helped to perk him up; it helped to make him not look so dead inside. he was a great actor, but the eyes are the window to the soul and his held nothing inside.

with his new life planned out, breckin made the decision to go to college and major in biology with the hopes of getting into med school and becoming a doctor like his father. in some weird way, it was almost like he wanted to be just like him, to show him that he was only monster because of him.

it was at his high school graduation that he found out what really happened to his mother when she suddenly showed up trying to act like everything was ok. in his mind, he had already come to terms with her death, deciding that his father more than likely killed her. but the truth hurt a whole lot more. she had just left........ left him with a monster who didn’t love him. and, not only that, but she had a whole new family with two children (his half siblings) and one of them was even close to him in age. it enraged him and, so, the next morning he cut the brake line in her car and killed her off permanently. she was dead to him so dead she would stay.

when he left for uni, he constructed a backstory where he was the son of a pastor who graduated as valedictorian and blushed when complimented. none of that was true, but it didn’t matter. everyone would believe him and would never question it so it didn’t matter.

at freshman orientation, he found his first victim and really set everything back into motion. he began dating anyone and everyone before ultimately cheating on them, and breaking their hearts in the worst possible way all while holding up his perfect little persona until the end.

it was a cruel game, but he was able to keep others quiet about who he really was either through blackmail or through them being so humiliated that they left school and moved away.

over the years though as he’s gotten busier and has gotten closer to graduating, he’s really been too exhausted to keep up his facade as much so he’s basically half himself and half good church goin boy lmao!

▶ LIST OF SECRETS

obviously no one knows about these (unless we’ve plotted something out surrounding them) so keep these to your ooc self beetch! i honestly just wanted to throw ‘em down here because my memory is shit!

breckin plans on going to med school after graduation so, in preparation for becoming a doctor down the road, he will oftentimes practice on willing peers who are looking for a little extra cash.

he has a weird obsession with death but, more specifically, what comes after. it’s something that no one knows the answer to so he has taken it upon himself to try and figure it out. how, you ask? think flatliners. he hooks himself (and other people occasionally) to a machine then injects them with a drug to stop their heart. they die, the two minute countdown begins, then they’re resuscitated. he’s been getting a little too brave lately though and letting himself flatline for longer periods of time.

even though those two things in particular could get him not only kicked out of school, but ruin his chances of getting into med school, there are others that would pretty much bury his entire reputation six feet under. since he was in his early teens, breckin has been living a sort of double life. he pretends to be a nice boy who only has good intentions, but he couldn’t be more opposite. he loves breaking hearts, hurting others, and humiliating them. more often than not, he dates people solely for that.

even though he doesn’t need the money, he loves attention so he started up his very own little artistic porn blog on tumblr (throw it back to when that shit was still allowed). he began when he was a freshman and has accumulated around forty thousand followers in that time. he never shows his face or anything but he posts pretty racy photos and sells pictures, videos, and audio recordings to those that are willing to pay.

breckin has a very packed schedule between studying pre-med, playing sports, and keeping up with all of his other extracurricular activities that he doesn’t find much time to do normal things like sleeping, eating, etc. this has pushed him to find other means to sustain him that mostly include divulging in various drugs of choice.

▶ POTENTIAL PLOT IDEAS

these are just barebone ideas that could and should be expanded on. but, again, they’re only ideas and i’m really open to plotting just about anything? especially if you have smth in particular that you really want filled, please don’t be afraid to come to me about it! all plots are also open to any muse of any gender!

TEAMMATE(S) — breck is really into sports (specifically more aggressive ones) so if your muse plays any such as: football, lacrosse, hockey, etc then hmu! we can do full blown rivals, playful rivals, mates who just help keep each other motivated to do their best, etc.

HALF SIBLING — if you read the background info then you’ll know that breck’s mom pretty much disappeared then showed back up with two new kids who are his half siblings. however, one of them is pretty close to his age so it’d be cool to have them around? especially considering the fact that he ended up killing their mother yikes! even though they obvs don’t know that it could make for some good writing to explore them finding it out in the future!

ROMANTIC(?) — i’m talkin fwb, exes that he’s played, one night stands, etc. considering the fact that his schedule has only gotten busier and busier, he doesn’t really have time to date around like he used to but he still has needs, damn, so essketit!

PARTY BUDDY — breck likes to party a lot and likes to get fucked up so he needs some friends who’ll humor him and who can keep up with all of his wild shenanigans.

DRUG DEALER — with the amount of shit he does (both personally and otherwise) he could keep your character completely funded himself lmao! hes got a lot of money so let his dumbass give it to you!

NEIGHBOR(S) — breck doesn’t live on campus cause fuck that hes too old for it and he hated it anyway so he lives in an apartment which means your muse? could be his neighbor idk this is super vague but we could do a lot with it just trust me!

SECRETS(?) — considering a couple of his secrets are a little out there it’d be kinda cool to have someone in on them. like, with his whole experimenting on people thing and basically killing them then bringing them back to see what they experienced ya....... could be fun literally someone gimme it!

#liarsintro #anyway..... gas me up :)#☆ — ❛ out of character. ❜

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nth-generation-kpop · 5 years

Text

So Nothing’s Left Unturned

Chapter: 5/?

Word count: ~2000

Summary: Somehow, Woojin couldn’t quite feel bad for ending things. Somehow, Chan couldn’t quite feel bad about kicking Changbin out. Somehow, the two couldn’t quite stay away from each other.

Chapter V -- These Streets

Kim Woojin was in way over his head with this one, and he knew it.

The following Thursday afternoon found him still in a relationship, in a familiar apartment, lying in the arms of one boy but thinking of another. He traced lazy patterns against Doyun’s stomach, wondering how he got this far. He was supposed to be watching some campy, over-testosteroned action film with badly executed dialogue and even worse graphics-- his boyfriend’s favorite type of movie. Woojin spaced out almost immediately, and what his mind wandered to was troubling though not surprising.

After his discussion with Chan at the party, Woojin was convinced he simply needed to put in the work. Relationships aren’t always easy, and this was the part where the work came in. He texted Doyun, feigned loneliness, and they headed back to the party 10 minutes later, together. He said that he didn’t think Doyun would like hanging out with a bunch of his friends and Doyun promised that if he got bored he’d drag Woojin out for something more fun. Half an hour into being there Doyun was anxious to leave and Woojin actively ignored him until it was too blatant to be ignored by their friends. They left, went back to Woojin’s apartment instead. They’d talked about how it seemed harder lately, how they both were having a hard time. They agreed that they were good together, that they would put in more effort, and they spent the night together. It was all good, great, except it wasn’t.

He wasn’t a big party person, but he felt a pang of bitterness as they left. Chan looked sad when he’d said goodbye, and after the talk they’d had he felt incredibly guilty for bailing. Or maybe he was imagining the fake smile and the sadness in Chan’s eyes. Maybe he wasn’t even regretful of having left the party, and feelings from a long time ago were simply peaking through. He’d buried them so long ago that he didn’t know what to do now. He had no idea how to deal with them, right after he’d committed to working things out with his current boyfriend.

Who was boring. And way less genuine than Bang Chan. And had horrible taste in TV.

But the issue was that Woojin was still dating Doyun, actively cuddling with him, while reconsidering his goal to make things work. All he wanted to do was be with Chan again, and that guilt was eating away at him. He sat up, patting Doyun's chest and climbing off the couch.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing, I've just got an early morning tomorrow. I'm picking up an extra shift, and then I've got class,” Woojin lied smoothly, bending down to kiss Doyun quickly. “I want to get some extra sleep and the movie isn’t… catching my attention.”

“Okay, is everything alright?” Doyun was still half watching the movie, blatantly, and Woojin repressed the urge to roll his eyes.

“Yeah, of course. Just tired.” He grabbed his coat and promised to lock the door on his way out, waving as he tried to leave both quickly and casually.

As he walked, his mind cycled through a million things. He thought about how Doyun was different than all his other relationships. They had a lot in common, Woojin thought, but in all the wrong ways. When he met Doyun he’d been excited to meet someone clean cut, with goals and ambitions and timelines-- who looked so good on paper. He tended to love boys who lived in the abstract, artsy or creative, with lofty goals of Manhattan galleries and Park Avenue high rises. Even the more salt-of-the-earth ones were intelligent, held this intoxicating depth that left Woojin drunk off of their conversations. His boys lit a fire in him, inspired him, and when he met Doyun he felt that same fire.

When he reached his own apartment, he locked the door and then slid to the floor against it, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. The fire he felt died out as soon as it ripped through Doyun's paper thin persona, nothing to sustain it further than that besides wishful thinking. They didn't talk about things that didn't matter, let alone things that did. Where he could bring up stupid debates like is lasagna a layer cake for stupid fun with the others, Doyun would just brush them off. ‘That's a weird question’ or ‘why does it matter’ or Woojin's absolute favorite, a dismissive ‘you're so funny.’ They were juvenile questions, and Woojin told himself he must need to grow up. This was a real adult relationship, one that could go somewhere and be stable for a long time. He didn't have to worry about Doyun chasing his dreams in some distant city or moving for an exclusive apprenticeship or secretly living out of his car because ‘starving artist’ was his brand no matter how many clay busts of Janet Jackson or whatever he sold on Etsy. A real adult relationship, latched onto him and sucking his soul right out of his body.

Had he brooded over this long enough to settle the decision to break things off though? Thinking about Chan reminded him how long it had been since he was truly alone, single and not courting the idea of his next relationship through flirtatious something or others. He’d also never craved it before, being single. Of course, with Bang Chan in the back of his mind he wasn't 100% confident that single is what he would be after following his impending break up.

Their little talk ruined everything. He read way too far into what Chan had said about needing time, and hearing his friend talk about not thinking himself worthy of a relationship just made Woojin want to love him fiercely. It made him think back to 2 or 3 years before when they first met, racking his brain for any indication that maybe he'd been wrong. So he did what he always did when he was at a loss with Bang Chan, he texted Jisung.

Woojinnie-hyung Weird question…

Jisungie Is it one of those buzzfeed ‘is water wet’ bullshit questions again? Please no.

Woojinnie-hyung No, it's about Chan. We talked the other day and… I don't know I was just wondering if he's ever dated anyone that you know of?

Jisungie Uhhhh, this feels kind of weird I don't want to talk about him behind his back but no? Unless he's hiding it from everybody and we all know Bang Chan is a terrible liar

Woojinnie-hyung Sorry, I shouldn't put you in this position, it's nothing serious. I'm just curious I guess

Jisungie It's okay, it's because you care about him

Woojinnie-hyung Yeah

Jisungie I'm not going to ask what you talked about because that's between you two but… why now? Why are you curious all of the sudden

Woojinnie-hyung Ahh, well its mostly because of what we talked about. It was the other night at his party

Jisungie Right, I noticed that Doyun showed up really late and you left really early… u okay?

Woojinnie-hyung Yes and no, it’s complicated. I fixed things last weekend but it just ended up breaking things more I think, I don't know

Woojinnie-hyung He's not what I want.

Jisungie No offense but I could have told you that a month ago

Woojinnie-hyung Wow thanks

Jisungie I know it's a shitty thing to say but it's true

Woojinnie-hyung I actually kind of appreciate it… I need to hear it so I know I'm not crazy for wanting to break up with him when he's sort of perfect

Jisungie Everybody is perfect for someone, he's just not perfect for you

Woojinnie-hyung When did you get so smart

Jisungie Ahh, I'm blushing But seriously, I've known you for X NUMBER OF YEARS right? I know exactly who you're perfect for by now

Woojinnie-hyung Oh really, well send them my way why don't you

Jisungie Now where is the fun in that? I may have been Cupid for Halloween but this love god is all about autonomy 😜 you know what you're doing, just trust yourself

Woojinnie-hyung What would I do without you, Jisung?

Jisungie Let's hope for your sake you never have to find out

“If you're going to stay there that's fine, but I think Seungmin is on his way home…” a voice came from the doorway to the kitchen, making Woojin jump.

“Shit, hi.” Woojin hauled himself off the floor and smiled at his roommate. “I didn't realize you were awake.”

Hwang Hyunjin was a dancer, one with incredible discipline and a fairly rigid routine that had him in bed by 10pm and out of the house for training by 7am every day. Some weeks he felt like he barely saw the boy, let along talked to him except on weekends. He was tall, lithe, and one of Woojin's most talented and hardworking friends. They'd moved in together on a whim when Hyunjin was a freshman along with Kim Seungmin and it had been a roaring success.

“Yeah I’m awake... are you okay?”

Woojin sighed. “I’m… okay.”

“You sure?”

“Nope.” Woojin smiled, patting Hyunjin on the shoulder and heading down the hall.

“You can talk to me. Seungmin too,” Hyunjin said, making Woojin turn around.

“I… thanks. I might take you up on that sometime, but uh… not tonight?”

“Yeah, sure. Just… we like you, I consider you as a friend not just a roommate. I hope you feel that way too.”

Woojin smiled, crossing the room to hug Hyunjin. “I really do. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

They parted ways, and at least Woojin went to bed feeling lighter. Doyun or not, he’d always have his friends, and that’s all he really needed.

If only that didn’t get him thinking about Bang Chan once again, he would have slept soundly that night.

~~~~~

A couple days later, Chan’s phone vibrated in his pocket as he was closing his fridge. He half expected it to be his mother or his father, maybe one of his siblings, but he definitely didn’t expect the name that flashed at the top of his screen. Setting aside the cold bottles, Chan hesitated a moment before answering the call in a low voice. “Hey.”

“Hi. Chan.” He said it as if he was surprised, as if it was two separate thoughts. Not quite a question, but as if he was reassuring himself of something.

Chan didn’t know how to answer. “You never actually call me.”

“I call you!”

That made him smile. “You text me, that’s different,” he pointed out.

Woojin hesitated. “I call you”

Chan clicked his tongue. “You call me when I’m late for something and—” he stopped short. “And when you break up with your boyfriends”

“Yeah.” Something stirred in Chan’s stomach as they sat in silence, and he pulled the phone away from his ear to check whether Woojin had hung up. “I should call more”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s good. I wasn’t… happy. This thing with Doyun, it was throwing everything off. It’s good.”

“I was actually just going to order takeout… do you want to come over?”

“Yeah, I was… well I’m standing outside that ramen place you like, so I could pick that up? I was going to pick that up, but then I thought I should make sure you weren’t busy.”

“Yeah, that sounds great.”

“I know your order, can I be there in half an hour?”

“Of course, come over whenever.”

“Thanks Chan.” There was a sadness in Woojin’s voice that Chan didn’t quite recognize, a longing that hadn’t been there for all the other boyfriends. It tore at his heart, but at this point he wasn’t sure if that was because he was seeing his friend in pain, or because he was seeing a man he had feelings for broken up over another.

“Of course,” he said, but Woojin had already hung up.

He stared at his phone until Woojin’s contact photo disappeared, then he quickly turned around and stuck his head into the living room. Changbin sat cross-legged on his couch, mouth open, chopsticks poised to stuff a dumpling into his mouth until Chan called his name.

“Sorry. I need you to leave. And take the food with you.”

“Now?” The younger boy looked down at their numerous takeout boxes.

“Yes. Share with Felix, or keep it for leftovers, I don’t care I just need you to be gone by the time Woojin gets here.”

Changbin gave him a knowing look. “Jisung said he was going to--”

“Yeah, he did.”

“And you’re what?” He raised an eyebrow at Chan, almost judging. “Be here to pick up the pieces like always.”

“That’s enough for me,” Chan assured him (and himself).

Changbin huffed, shoving the dumpling in his mouth and beginning to pack up the rest. “It shouldn’t be. Maybe it doesn’t have to be.”

“It does,” Chan said. “For now, at least, it does.”

#stray kids #stray kids au #skzwriters #woochan #chan #woojin #so nothings left unturned #once again its not edited so sorry fam #I just went back and fixed <adjective> in part 2 #rip #mine #what do i even tag my stuff lol

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paraclete0407 · 3 years

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Feel like Du Fu dreaming of the distant capital Chang’an; ‘liang-zi’ in rain or so. Money burns, houses burn - diamonds burn. ‘Do not harm the wine and oil.’ People don’t even think about An Lushan Civil War and IDK if I read fake history but f-cking Hail Satan / Moloch (’Eat, Lord!’ - Salammbo) from what I read; this world; these men; ‘A Dish of Peaches in Russia.’ Can’t wait to get tortured by K-mafia in all the pornographic violation-vectors pleasures of which I investigated over the years dept. of Purgatory(?). Sing infernal muse of orgasm-hunting and desperately personal inward contractionist odysseys; I rem. thinking ‘220K Belgian breast-implants,’ it looked like my piano-teacher’s house; Knausgaard is like ‘Time for Everything.’ I wrote ‘Success Kid Soup’ where SAmchon / Sammo is writing his Salterian gratitude-journals teaching Hyomin abt. James Salter, then, ‘final eloquence(?) of Jane Austen scholarship.

I rem. once sleeping at Lake Park in car thinking PCH slept in cars to keep from being degen. but ppl thought I was battering old men at Children’s Grand Park or smashing up one of my favorite girls with a flashlight(!?) - it’s not even true.

‘Do you know The Death of Ivan Ilyich,’ midnight gardens, but at this time in my life I felt I had no real program. My only ‘take’ was if you want to talk about DoII let’s sincerely talk about it but then IDK what women ‘intend.’ Plasma-cannons, alien antennae; a while back I thought about ‘Holdings’ only there appears to be a baptism of fire in some sense or other. I rem. psychoticization of Barry Hannah, GnR prophecies, is he burying or disinterring the AK-74. The song from the untranslatable SF global HumDev drama where they married IRL then divorced, some Frenchman,... sexually awaken this! - that song is like... I went on Wikipedia reading about kamikaze, ‘liberty,’ bomb-interception w/ Type-0, fact that some Japanese really weren’t lip-lick daddy-daughter fake paternal colonialists (i believe) b/c a few JP probably detected Perry’s lip-lick, ShiShi, knock knock wakizahi Heaven’s Judgment to mental Cho Kuks(?) - Koreans understand Iwo Jima Lt. Gen b/c these are sacred bloodlines

I rem. ‘when Black girls love them some white boys’ - great! I just regret ever saying anything like TW-1 French tips it’s retarded, now abideth the face, the brows, the destiny of Woman,

XJP probably knows all this; extend question, how to show / teach world..

‘I appreciated’... ‘Expectation’... Smoothie Kng FroYo Bella...

IDK why I feel like saying all this now; I bought a watch-head for like 50 ollars that later got humidified, the watch-repairman’s grip was excellent, but these peple are just not my constituents because at bottom they’re AmKor AAPI Twitter ‘PS always hated you’ reactionary tribalists so rape me my friend! Leave me alone! I liked ‘Beautiful Goodbye’ but as for the ‘Taeyeon suicide countdown types’ if you really wanted ‘My way your way anything goes tonight’ stimulation can I rip out your fingernails upside down hang baseball bat - it cost less than Six Flags and make more ‘individual special’ story. It’s not wrong to torture, ‘better to marry than to burn’ and better to hydroelectrocute, waterboard, shortchain, airplane, than spew infernal lies. Confucius ‘If you love your son beat him’ - I wanna beat myself, IDK if I was right or wrong but smashed ‘Ryan’ with softcover workbook 2011, different time, also turned out he was set up / falsely accused by James so I became one of those ‘ppl that made ppl hate all teachers / system / Caucasians’ - legal, other ppl were toe-kicking to back of knee and stuff. My colleague asked the English for ‘corporal punishment’ I said ‘physical punishment’ b/c ‘corporal’ is mil. rank and ‘corporeal’ is Catholic oceanic concept. Other ppl at that hagwon were like ‘cartoons, puns, I am “woke” and exprienced instructor, circumspect, every so often hurl lethal objects at children’ - later he said stuff like ‘pimping Incheon,’ real estate license, Canada. ‘Korea’s got some growing up to do, libertarianism, a million year patrimony of Canadian nationhood.’ Pornhub, Hushmail, greed-immigration-laws. I said ‘You’re the butler from Kazuo Ishiguro’ but why say anything these ppl are nail-paring... David’s harlotry, how to cancel you, fake dream, no depth of instructional design or whole school architecture, not even dream, not even waiting... Sad! I remember Jordan Peterson calling Tinkerbell ‘the porn fairy’ I like Soshi’s ‘Tinkerbell’ from the press-motif and its echo of Emerson’s notion of the ‘scholar of one candle’ I’m not pro-pornography I just have Catholicistic aesthetics

Now I remember ‘David’ who wanted a card and considered the ‘Fnal Word’ summative statement possibilities of a mechanical pencil. But in the future everyone already understands everything. I remember later filing away what I had taken to be perfunctory observations based on students’ testimony such as ES = parents; MS =friends HS = [TD Jakes sermon + purposes + future spouse etc.]... My friend said sth, I get super-sick of sharing anything with anyone + fret that all my ‘good deeds’ are being rewarded in this world. Sica’s ‘Gravity’ cover. I just no longer understand Korean; Brooks Brothers as white supremacist(?). LJH is like ‘walking straight up to Heaven.’ Condescending-Canada-1 on my 26th birthday was talking about ‘meting you again’ story-ideas; I had a ‘hen could fly’-esque story idea about deer or ‘hart’ and ducks but in retrospect symbolic thinking, who cares. ‘that has expelled us and our images (Stevens’...

Picture of A.S. Lizzie particolor sweater Cheonggyeoncheon; New Order ‘Regret,’ Thatcher era, all these English ‘God wot Warhammer 40K’ retreat in to expressive Imperium that seems condition of fiction but is actually ‘potential prophecy’ or future certainty-world. It was ‘Regret,’ Singapore, but the 40K people were satisfied w/ their lives and Thatcher that I know wasn’t executing them or corralling in to work-camps just saying [make do with less?]...

I wanted to Western fencing and ended up w/ saber/re, in the late 1990s WJC dispatched cops with MP-5′s in order to extradite or return Cuban refugee-boy to his communist homeland; coach is saying ‘Nazi.’ Did Castro threaten terror or was it just child-sacrifice. Later my HS achieved prominence in female saber but honestly, games, toys, fake progress, fake hope, IDC don’t touch me. I later took interest in epee, San-E ‘Feminist,’ my dad said a smart comment about ‘dissonance’ but it is still ‘representations.’ It’s Madonna ‘Holiday.’

‘Seulgi didn’t touch flowers b/c harm them’ - Pearl Buck ‘Living Reed.’ ~ ‘harm not the Earth.’ Gym avoid, just run or work or sth. Insane veterinarian bodybuilder ‘meat digestion enzyme - eat many animals as possible.’ ‘Isolation exercise’ - ev1 wants to believe this brililant then they spent like 3000000 dollars on gov’t money on SF training then they are ‘vastus medialis.’ I like ‘Say something nice about Seulgi’ - it’s like ES.

Feel like what should I confess, my very fav. student, ‘the one who could be anything, whose parents maybe gave her ‘open class.’ What is someone like that to do?

I used to drive down Capitol seeing Black people thinking ‘God’s chosen’ or so but didn’t feel compelled to add or contribute anything to them as they had a special destiny. ‘Where do I take this love?’ Everyone wants to adopt everyone, I believe it monstrous, oppose, veto. ‘Teach me the way’ - it’s grooming, pederasty. I rem. ‘This Is Love’ and two words that mean ‘already.’ My old poem about S’hai-1 and ‘South of the Border West of the Sun.’ Even more now channeling ‘Evr’y Hour,’ seeing Genghis Khan books at BN,’ Beolsseo arasseo.’ I admire out-of-time rubato things, Spengler characterizing the Greco-Roman culture-soul as ‘andante.’ HUFS-1 is ‘Andante Spianato,’ ‘planing.’ I knew her hometown but she’s not my girl so. I know no other piece with a ‘spianato’ direction. No one plays this piece to my satisfaction it’s more Chopin monster-magic. I liked ‘Forgefuness’ by Hart Crane in a way but weird dreams with Crane like a gelatinous turkey b/c hat is so great abt being homosexual and brilliant(?). Power without responsibility, conceit. There were these word-jump-around-page poems from Strand books that I wrote with great joy-generation in HS but after that decided it was madness, mental illness. Square poem, piano reduction of insanity-pop-music, cancel manic depression. Later tried sonnet, tangci, sijo. I like ‘sobriety, staidness.’ ‘Letters to Auratus’ more of my writing tutoring / literary agency abt. what are you trying to convey with ASLS, surrogacy, Heideggerian being-towards-death, dying life. I get it - for a time I always said ‘I see what you’re saying.’ Purity, remembrance. But IDK if Auratus knows or doesn’t know b/c ‘Can’t I lie?’ Maybe it is other people’s pathos. Surrogacy, chaebol, AI knows I like HK3 a lot but in retrospect... I had the phrase ‘autumn settlings.’ Old man waiting for his son, mitigation, train to Cheonan with this grief-blind woman or sth, are you looking at me? My nose is not Jung Woosung’s nose. I forgot the zeitgeists from past dramas; I ban them anyway. ‘The Charm of Department Stores.’

‘Roads Not Taken’ or so is a book about the Vietnam War; who wrote the last word on the Vietnam War? I felt it strange that they make monthly magazines about the past; this transport with American soldiers very washed. Vietnam has huge butterflies. ‘Soldier’s Wives’ ~ ‘This is her taste,’ Chris Kyle’s wife but it’s still like LBSDBS. I remember reading the Mutual Assured Destruction guy’s theory f ‘Faustian peoples’ or so (not Spengler’s idea of all the West as Faustian-outward-historiographical+ ut sth different), my fav. K-film has always been AMFL; I started remembering ‘Insa,’ feeling autumn golden leaves thrown up by the passing SUV fall through my body. These words mean many things and in past I took words in mouth I should keep to myself and wish to hear rather than say or wish to mull rather than flaunt... (once Grahame Greene squalor-lord met the Pope who said ‘But I’m already Catholic’ - dept. of apologetics v. present prophecy, discernment, reality-betterment). I want to tell my most demonic sex-trafficking hallucinations like hole-in-heart zombies racism pineapple pizza, paint the apartment - this was ‘nesting.’ ‘Reflections.’ Auratus was talking of the F-22 which I wanted to tell him that’s not the fastest plane by a longshot, today too I think evth is Satan electric fields and drones thrust-vectoring is a huge toy but IDK what IDK. I wished to send all F-22′s to Kor, I used to nickname this girl XB-70; I thought I was once the little escort just there to film the test or sth. KJAD rapidly improved, the shrimp whale dolphin thing vanished. Creatures. There were scramjets and that reverse dive-bombing where you climb, thrust-weight ratio, ‘arabesque.’ I used to deliberately mar my English and say ‘I think it’s good idea’ and ‘good form.’

F-22, I feel like USA trashed their whole continent and now can’t even give good motor-vehicle?

Memories of KJY, ‘Black is beautiful?’ Wilberforce. ‘Confucianism is all about the phallus(?!).’ YOU help them dept. of Maoist time-bomb. I’ll g to Somalia, Eritrea, one day. I know these kids have special promise; I too would take measures to make them cute and loveable. ‘Social form.’ I love Paul Washer - ‘porn = unloving heart’ - kneel before father... but they need good police; I don’t own firearms; I don’t like to exaggerate. Like in 2012 Doomsday in the end Africa becomes the center o human civilization... I read King Leopold’s Ghost; there was a Georgian Southerner at Beauty School so I got mad at started talking about Gen. Sherman burning down his home turf. Believe in severity; I wanted to help them but they’re so sure they know sth but they’ve been exploding-heart-ing me since like MS; it’s part of why I just wanted to live in Redlands and write in the office ‘cause I know what they think; my name is like a Confederate general, IDK my own past, supposedly teetotaling Union officer who burned his uniform. Tory anti-belief-niks... Let’s talk about Myeongnyang, sacrifice, simplicity, the other thing if adult job-opportunities I guess b/c I know all about being educated but underemployed but I’m not Biden; what job can I create? Just tell them I’ve lived less than I say I’ve lived; ‘creative writing.’ I never made it to Busan, what’s in Busan? Shanghai never made it. Let’s talk about ‘10,000 Sorrows,’ abandonment, slavery, honor-killing, church abuses. Jazz is neither here nor there that I can tell; body-image. Who’s the most important person in the world today? What’s God’s will or me? Just delete my family name? Of course I like ‘Deep River’ - ‘ugly and destructive’ slavery. ‘My Soul’s Been Anchored in the Lord.’ They think I‘m the mark / easy money / sue for punitive damages but I think they’re the marks, ‘maybe so.’ Korea’s not inlating min.-wage; wanna talk about Ralph Ellison, Toni Morrison, James Baldwin. I know a bit about Baldwinian sin-eating like ‘I tell you all my dirty secrets then pretend I didn’t’ - it’s called US mental healthcare system. I like that poem about the pimp but this poet also shout his mouth off talkig about firing in to crowds of protesters. ‘Fire Next Time.’ With Covid it could well be; I was telling ex-friend about how there would just be tanks on the street again but I have come to believe I was reading the future by past. I used to bodybuild in college and eat fish oil every 2 hours so this girl who loves Taeyang saw my fish oils and started crying since she thought they were steroids; ultra-beautiful,Bo probably / hopefully flourishing, modified spelling of the name that means ‘revelation of God.’ But Snoop? Cardi? Does their ethos or way of war ever ever ever prevail? Bonhoeffer learned from the Black church; I loved his poem about feeling strangled in prison. I wanna raze Milwaukee and build them reasonable apartments with study-desks and stuff; their neighborhoods have a soothing energy. Someone a deacde back was eating with African-African national leaders who confided, ‘Our whole continent doesn’t have enough wisdom.’ Koreans were buying up farmland in Africa. I was sad b/c I felt I had a chance; I checked some vaccine-info. now it’s just like in Uieongbu DJJ is some kind of bio-terrorist. I was fond of DC Sua’s ‘Copycat’ although I backed from all that because it’s infinitely misinterpretable; I thought about ‘Love Only Me,’ now I am like ‘Love Someone Else.’ I felt as if this ought to be a lenten penitent ‘reduced circumstances’ era in remembrance of numerous mistakes, going humbly. I liked ‘Don’t Waste Your Life Sentence,’ spring nights. I sometimes feel as if the current POTUS will say all the right things but the drug-laws in past were merciless and what was the point? But that’s Rome and I’ve no portfolio. ‘Henry Fish’ my YAL from 2012 - endless sorries- with his 30-dollar military jackets, taped glasses. ‘Glad and proud to call Obama my president.’ I’ve never voted and don’t intend to except in ‘12 I voted for Obama partly because the psychiatrist and I had a good exchange; now feel that leaving the town hall that ‘pride’ was literal pride, evil, like all these women say, ‘Why would you do that?’ ‘ObaMao.’ I PRC they called him ‘heiren.’ Syria red line ciaccona, Obergefell, strat-patience. End Iraq then suddenly super-massive investment in modernization of nuclear forces, telling EU to pay more for defense - there’s just not gonna be Heaven on Earth & I am never gonna make it to Venus and I really walk round thinking about camping in ex-NK and I do’t mean like the drama But he’s a great man too. ‘Cocaine and cohabitation’ - maybe he really was pace Dreamcatcher beginning of the end, from Hawai’i, ‘From Here to Eternity,’ end of AmCent. His ‘Amazing Grace.’ I said something really obtuse about Bloomberg, Pete Mayor, Biden; a while ago skimmed ‘Lost Victories’ about the Nazi general who drove tanks through forests and stuff, when is going to fall the sword? I liked ‘Beethoven was Black,’ Waldstein-III, and 111 is like ‘massive slave rebellion followed by less-tn-expected final affirmation. IZ*ONE ‘Human Love’ (in respect-mode I call it Ahn Yujin and Jo Yuri ‘Human Love’ b/c they were already breaking up the GG) - I thought it was a great moment; a signature.’ Then the ILY3K, marriage bad, uneducated, omni-prostitution unrestricted war CCP-revanchism exceedingly woke but for all I know I’m just a fake cultural Christian.

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mythicamagic · 6 years

Text

DL Character meme!

I got tagged by @barbiebrival, thank you!

Rules: List your top 10 favorite DL characters (it doesn’t just have to be the dateable guys, any characters are fair game) in order. And the answer the questions. Blank questions at the end.

1. Subaru 2. Ruki 3. Shuu 4. Yuma 5. Azusa 6. Laito 7. Reiji (from here they're all pretty much at the same level. I don't hate the guys, they're just not my favs) 8. Kou 9. Ayato 10. Kanato

1. Number 5 (Azusa) has decided they want to completely change up their wardrobe and they take you shopping with them so you can give your opinions on what new outfits they should buy. What sort of clothes are you going to recommend?

I would try to get Azusa to buy more of his comfy sweaters. His sweaters are so soft and warm looking, and they suit him.

2. You walk into your room one day to find number 2 (Ruki) standing on your bed, dancing to your favourite song while wearing nothing but your favourite underwear. How do you react?

"....Ruki, did you eat something strange from Yuma's garden?"

3. Number 7 (Reiji) has to go to the dentist but they’re adamantly refusing. How would you persuade them to go?

Use logic. I can see Reiji wanting to solve a problem like that by himself by reading up on dentistry. I'd try to convince him to see a dentist from the Demon World, since they'd not have a heart attack after seeing his fangs like a human dentist would.

4. You lose a bet with number 6 (Laito) and now have to be their personal maid for a day. Do you go through with it or do you try to get out of it?

Oh Gawd, I'd try to get out of it but that would probably make things worse.

5. Number 4 (Yuma) takes you to see a horror movie however they end up getting absolutely terrified halfway through and bury their head into your shoulder. How do you react?

Pfft omg. I'd be surprised but ultimately not comment on it to save his pride. I would be lying if I said I wouldn't absolutely try to touch his hair though.

6. Number 9 (Ayato) surprises you with a cake they’ve baked especially for you. Are you going to eat it?

No! That prankster would put something weird in it, like bugs.

7. Number 8 (Kou) accidentally manages to completely trash their room, to the point where it’s uninhabitable. They don’t have anywhere to stay while it’s being repaired and so they ask if they can room with you for the next couple of weeks. How do you respond?

I'd let Kou have the room and stay on the sofa or something. No way would I share with him, he would probably try to pull some sort of exchange.

8. Number 1 (Subaru) has decided to learn how to play the trumpet. The downside to this is that, for some reason, they’ve taken to practicing right outside your room around the time you normally go to sleep. What are you going to do?

Aww as much as I'd want to be mad, I don't think I'd have the heart to discourage him. Subaru very rarely expresses himself, I would want to encourage it. If it got super bad though, I would offer to help him practice at a reasonable hour lol

9. Number 10 (Kanato) recently purchased a cat onesie and they’ve insisted on wearing it everywhere over the past few days. They’ve now purchased a matching onesie for you and they’re being very insistent that you wear it and go out in public together. What do you do?

Omg Kanato would look adorable wearing it. I would wear it around the mansion but try to get out of wearing it in public.

10. Number 4 (Yuma) is still scared after watching that horror film with you. It’s now late at night and they’re demanding that you let them sleep in your bed with you. What do you do?

Oh well I GUESS I'll let Yuma stay with me. Urgh you're REALLY inconveniencing me though. *cough cough* I would try to seduce him using my sexy knowledge of floriography.

11. Number 3 (Shuu) confesses to you that they want to be an Olympic gymnast but struggle to even touch their toes. What sort of advice do you give to them?

Well...I'd be shocked, but hey, hidden depths and all that. I'd suggest trying Yoga. I image it would go as follows: Me: Shuu...you can't just lie in the sleeping dog postion, you gotta..you know..,move? Shuu: Zzzz...

12. Number 7 (Reiji) decides they want to paint a picture of you. They make you sit still for hours while they work on it, only when they finally reveal it to you, the image bears absolutely no resemblance to you. They ask you for your opinion, what do you say?

Reiji wouldn't take ANY criticism for me anyway, but I'd at least try to point out a few things he could possibly change. I'd be sure to compliment his shading or use of colour however, to balance out the criticism.

13. Number 5 (Azusa) buys a large pet python and they try to talk you into keeping it in your room. How do you respond?

Uh..I'd very politely decline. I don't mind snakes but I get the feeling giving Azusa one is a very BAD idea.

Azusa: *watching as the python chokes someone around their neck* Aww...he's hugging them. The pain looks wonderful...

14. You go on a Ferris wheel with number 6 (Laito) but when you reach the top, it stops moving and stays still for a long time. There seems to be some kind of fault, which means you’re trapped with number 6 till someone can get it working again. What do you do?

Rip me. Laito would absolutely use this time to try and get frisky.

15. Number 2 (Ruki) proposes you play a game of twister. Regardless of whether you want to or not, you get dragged into it. As you’re playing, you notice number 2 seems to be touching you a lot more than necessary. Do you call them out on it, or take some other course of action?

Again I'd inwardly question if Ruki had eaten more strange things from the garden, but I'd be very flustered yet nervous. I would probably be too nervous to try and reciprocate.

16. You’re getting changed in your room when you suddenly hear a noise from your wardrobe. You open the wardrobe to find number 3 (Shuu) standing in it. How do you react?

"Shuu did you fall asleep in here again?"

17. Number 1 (Subaru) manages to accidentally handcuff themselves to you. They don’t have a key and for some reason, no matter what either of you do, you can’t seem to get them off. What are you going to do?

Ohh noo how TERRIBLE. No but seriously, Subaru would probably get frustrated by this, so I'd try to calm him down. If he got violent while I was that close to him, I'd probably die. Not saying I wouldn't enjoy it once he did get calm though.

18. Number 10 (Kanato) presents you with a bouquet of roses and declares that they have feelings for you. How do you react?

Welp I'm dead now. Unless I had a thing going with one of the other guys (which is unlikely) who could protect me from turning Kanato down, I'd have to accept the flowers and his feelings. I mean...would YOU risk turning Kanato down? He'd probably kill you.

19. You go swimming with number 8 (Kou). You’re having a great time until they pull you aside and tell you that they’ve somehow lost their swimwear. Are you going to help them and if so how?

I would go and buy him some new swimwear.

20. Number 5 (Azusa) wrote a love letter to you and slipped it into what they believed to be your locker, however the locker actually belongs to number 8 (Kou) and they didn’t bother writing your name on the letter. How does number 8 react when they find it?

Kou is pretty sharp, he'd figure out what was going on and use this to his advantage. He'd have a little fun with probably causing some sort of drama, but not too much that it would irrevocably hurt Azusa’s feelings.

21. Number 7 (Reiji) gets very very drunk and tries to give number 3 (Shuu) a strip tease. What happens?

Pffft Shuu's soul would leave his body. I would be torn between finding Ayato and getting him to record it for blackmail purposes, or trying to dissuade Reiji from doing it.

22. Number 6 (Laito) and number 2 (Ruki) get into a rap battle and they want you to be the judge. Who do you think is going to win and why?

Laito, because he has more confidence in singing. Also RUKI STOP EATING STRANGE THINGS FROM THE GARDEN.

23. Number 1 (Subaru) accidentally ruins number 9’s (Ayato) most prized possession and begs for your help in covering it up. What do you do?

Oh Gawd that would probably be Ayato's Iron Maiden? Subaru wouldn't be able to cover that up, he's the only one who wrecks things like that in the house. I'd still try to help him though.

24. You wake up in between number 4 (Yuma) and number 10 (Kanato) with absolutely no memory of how you got there. Do you have any idea about what might have occurred and what are you going to do now?

Um..most likely when Yuma went to my room after the horror movie, he fell asleep next to me. Then Kanato wandered in? I'd die.

25. You go on a camping trip with number 9 (Ayato), number 6 (Laito) and number 3 (Shuu). What sort of stuff do the four of you do together?

Aw I think that would be kind of fun if they didn't try anything strange. I'd spend time with Shuu though when it came time to tell stories around the camp-fire. He'd retreat to get away from it, so I'd follow him rather than spending time with Ayato and Laito.

26. Number 9 (Ayato) and number 4 (Yuma) have somehow swapped bodies. How do they react and are you going to try to help them get back to normal?

Pfft omg Ayato: YES. I AM NOW THE GREATEST BASKETBALL PLAYER EVER. *loves the height change* Yuma: Urgh.. I'd find Reiji to try and get a cure.

27. You’re playing a game of Monopoly with number 5 (Azusa), number 7 (Reiji), and number 10 (Kanato). Who wins and who goes bankrupt and storms off in a rage?

Reiji wins, Azusa, Kanato and I go bankrupt. Kanato flips the game board and storms off in a rage with Teddy.

28. You go on a hike with number 8 (Kou) and number 2 (Ruki). Number 8 is in charge of the map and they manage to get you completely lost in the middle of nowhere. What are you going to do?

I can actually see this happening. Well, if we had camping stuff, we could just set up camp and figure out where to go from there. If not, Ruki would probably order us to help make shelter if we were exhausted, while he worked out where we were.

29. Number 1 (Subaru) has given up on learning the trumpet and has taken up the banjo instead. They write a song and play it for you but it sounds beyond terrible. How do you react?

I'd still try to support him and maybe look up youtube tutorials on how to help him improve.

30. Number 1 (Subaru) and number 2 (Ruki) get in a fight over you. Number 2 manages to win and asks you for your hand in marriage. How do you respond?

Oh you just HAD to ask that question, didn't you? I'd be damn stuck is what I would be. It would depend on the depth of feeling between me, Ruki and Subaru. If Subaru was in love with me, then I'd hesitate, but if he was only fighting because I was his prey and a blood bag, I'd accept Ruki's proposal because there'd be nothing holding me back. It would be such a difficult situation though, I mean Ruki wouldn't propose unless he was really in love so I'd be very flattered ethier way.

I tag: @yoooooooooooooooooooooooh, @mtkthedreamer, @missconnita, @laveenderee, @dialoversotaka and anyone else who wants to do this x

Blank questions:

1. Number 5 () has decided they want to completely change up their wardrobe and they take you shopping with them so you can give your opinions on what new outfits they should buy. What sort of clothes are you going to recommend?

2. You walk into your room one day to find number 2 () standing on your bed, dancing to your favourite song while wearing nothing but your favourite underwear. How do you react?

3. Number 7 () has to go to the dentist but they’re adamantly refusing. How would you persuade them to go?

4. You lose a bet with number 6 () and now have to be their personal maid for a day. Do you go through with it or do you try to get out of it?

5. Number 4 () takes you to see a horror movie however they end up getting absolutely terrified halfway through and bury their head into your shoulder. How do you react?

6. Number 9 () surprises you with a cake they’ve baked especially for you. Are you going to eat it?

7. Number 8 () accidentally manages to completely trash their room, to the point where it’s uninhabitable. They don’t have anywhere to stay while it’s being repaired and so they ask if they can room with you for the next couple of weeks. How do you respond?

8. Number 1 () has decided to learn how to play the trumpet. The downside to this is that, for some reason, they’ve taken to practicing right outside your room around the time you normally go to sleep. What are you going to do?

9. Number 10 () recently purchased a cat onesie and they’ve insisted on wearing it everywhere over the past few days. They’ve now purchased a matching onesie for you and they’re being very insistent that you wear it and go out in public together. What do you do?

10. Number 4 () is still scared after watching that horror film with you. It’s now late at night and they’re demanding that you let them sleep in your bed with you. What do you do?

11. Number 3 () confesses to you that they want to be an Olympic gymnast but struggle to even touch their toes. What sort of advice do you give to them?

12. Number 7 () decides they want to paint a picture of you. They make you sit still for hours while they work on it, only when they finally reveal it to you, the image bears absolutely no resemblance to you. They ask you for your opinion, what do you say?

13. Number 5 () buys a large pet python and they try to talk you into keeping it in your room. How do you respond?

14. You go on a Ferris wheel with number 6 () but when you reach the top, it stops moving and stays still for a long time. There seems to be some kind of fault, which means you’re trapped with number 6 till someone can get it working again. What do you do?

15. Number 2 () proposes you play a game of twister. Regardless of whether you want to or not, you get dragged into it. As you’re playing, you notice number 2 seems to be touching you a lot more than necessary. Do you call them out on it, or take some other course of action?

16. You’re getting changed in your room when you suddenly hear a noise from your wardrobe. You open the wardrobe to find number 3 () standing in it. How do you react?

17. Number 1 () manages to accidentally handcuff themselves to you. They don’t have a key and for some reason, no matter what either of you do, you can’t seem to get them off. What are you going to do?

18. Number 10 () presents you with a bouquet of roses and declares that they have feelings for you. How do you react?

19. You go swimming with number 8 (). You’re having a great time until they pull you aside and tell you that they’ve somehow lost their swimwear. Are you going to help them and if so how?

20. Number 5 () wrote a love letter to you and slipped it into what they believed to be your locker, however the locker actually belongs to number 8 () and they didn’t bother writing your name on the letter. How does number 8 react when they find it?

21. Number 7 () gets very very drunk and tries to give number 3 () a strip tease. What happens?

22. Number 6 () and number 2 () get into a rap battle and they want you to be the judge. Who do you think is going to win and why?

23. Number 1 () accidentally ruins number 9’s () most prized possession and begs for your help in covering it up. What do you do?

24. You wake up in between number 4 () and number 10 () with absolutely no memory of how you got there. Do you have any idea about what might have occurred and what are you going to do now?

25. You go on a camping trip with number 9 (), number 6 () and number 3 (). What sort of stuff do the four of you do together?

26. Number 9 () and number 4 () have somehow swapped bodies. How do they react and are you going to try to help them get back to normal?

27. You’re playing a game of Monopoly with number 5 (), number 7 (), and number 10 (). Who wins and who goes bankrupt and storms off in a rage?

28. You go on a hike with number 8 () and number 2 (). Number 8 is in charge of the map and they manage to get you completely lost in the middle of nowhere. What are you going to do?

29. Number 1 () has given up on learning the trumpet and has taken up the banjo instead. They write a song and play it for you but it sounds beyond terrible. How do you react?

30. Number 1 () and number 2 () get in a fight over you. Number 2 manages to win and asks you for your hand in marriage. How do you respond?

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flightyrock · 7 years

Text

Ectober Day 4: Memories

Summary: The aftermath of the Spirit Event. Vlad gives a bit more away than what either of them expected. A direct continuation from Day 3: Spirits

Warnings: Back to heavy. Depression, isolation, loneliness, dissociation, suicide ideation

Relationships: Platonic Danny and Vlad

Word Count: ~1200

Notes are at the end. Please mind the tags; believe me, my writing exercises aren’t worth your safety. Enjoy! (or don’t, this one’s pretty heavy, I’m afraid)

Vlad and Danny stayed, side by side in companionable silence at the spirits’ chasm for an indeterminate amount of time. It felt fundamentally wrong to leave, the two half-ghosts reluctant to break this strange but comfortable peace that had settled over them.

Humbled in the wake of the vast event, their past squabbles felt embarrassingly petty.

Vlad finally sighed, unwilling to dispel the mood, but knowing if he didn’t make the first move, they would never leave, Daniel clearly awestruck by the spectacle.

“Goodnight, Daniel,” he murmured, as he reluctantly tore his eyes from the chasm and made to leave.

“Wait!”

Vlad jumped.

Daniel’s face flushed with embarrassment.

“It’s just…I don’t…” The boy wrung his hands, eyes casting about as if justification for his outburst would suddenly spring up from the ectoscape.

Luckily, Vlad understood and was feeling merciful tonight. And a little lonely.

“Come,” he offered, softly.

And, for the second time that night, Danny did.

The odd pair made their way through the ghost zone, until Vlad spotted an isolated spot by a waterfall in neutral territory, and sat down by the edge on a boulder. After a moment’s hesitation, the younger half ghost did the same.

They sat in silence for a while, staring into the pool that seemed to have no bottom, occupied by bioluminescent organisms, listening to the rush of the fluid hurtling upward from the depths with a mocking disregard for physics that Danny had come to expect from the Ghost Zone.

It was strange. Danny thought that maybe the atmosphere would change along with the scenery, but Vlad wasn’t projecting hostility, superiority, arrogance, or even discomfort. He felt, not quite sad? Maybe a bit wistful?

Melancholy.

That was the term he was looking for, and without the distraction of the setting, Danny could see it for what it was. Of course, it helped that he was experiencing the same thing.

He couldn’t exactly identify why he was feeling this way, but he was almost certain it had to do with the spirits earlier. But now he absolutely had to know.

“Why did you ask me to come with you?”

Vlad turned to look at him, and Danny was struck by the odd impression that this was the first time Vlad had actually seen him, Danny. Not a prize. Not a tool to be used at leisure as a small but disposable component of an elaborate scheme. Not a child. But a person, his equal.

Vlad sighed, finding this question difficult to answer.

“Quite honestly, Daniel, I had no plans to bring you along tonight, not at first. But when I had completed the predictory calculations, and imagined the scale of the event…I…”

Vlad struggled with himself, looking torn. It was not as fun as Danny had always imagined it would be, having Vlad at a loss for words. Of course, Danny had always envisioned rendering Vlad speechless with a show of superior ability, not…whatever this was. Not that he was complaining! It was…nice, in a way. He felt that maybe he was seeing Vlad for the first time too. With his usual walls down, Danny could see them for what they were. There really was a person underneath all the grandeur.

Vlad turned slowly back to the pool, staring forlornly into the depths, voice barely a whisper.

“I have no idea why I’m telling you this. I really shouldn’t, but…my tongue is strangely loose tonight, and I feel strangely compelled to share. The spirit event shakes me to the core, brings up feelings that normally remain buried. Logically, I know that this is a rash decision brought about by a feeling of vulnerability as a result of a significant event. But I know that you won’t use this against me.”

Vlad chuckled bitterly.

“Foolish, I know. But the first time I ever stumbled on the event, I can say with certainty and without hint of irony that it changed my life. I was tired, numb, and intimately aware of how utterly alone I was. I had found that chasm during my explorations, and had idly wondered what it would feel like to lose myself in its depths. Sometimes I would just stare, for hours on end.”

Danny was taken aback, but didn’t dare to make a sound. He couldn’t believe that Vlad was telling him this. He didn’t know what to think, what to say, so he just listened.

“Imagine my surprise when one day the spirits rose from the depths. It was,”

Vlad paused, his face alight with wonder.

“It was like…I was born again, but also dying, and floating, and…well, you get the idea. I know you felt it too. Going through the aftermath, alone…”

Vlad raised a hand, obscuring his eyes.

“I wouldn’t wish the experience on my worst enemy. Imagine feeling as you are right now, but without the support of family or friends waiting for you at home. I wouldn’t trade the experience for the world, but I couldn’t trust myself to go through it alone, again. I can say with complete honesty that I have no idea how I managed it last time. I mean, the chasm is right--”

Vlad cut himself off, sharply, shaking his head.

“Trust me when I say it wasn’t an option. But I couldn’t miss it. And,” he added, looking over at Daniel, “I suppose I wasn’t exactly honest with you earlier. I’m sure it’s not a surprise. But I did mean what I said about this being our culture, Daniel, us, as half-ghosts, not our ghost sides.

“I looked into this phenomena quite thoroughly, as you can imagine, when I could bring myself to do so. It was frustrating, to go through such a dynamic change and tell other ghosts about it, only to realize that not a soul felt as I did. My allies grew very tired of listening me wax poetic about it. Ghosts don’t think of this display as much more than a mundane occurrence. They looked at me like I was insane when I spoke so highly of it. It doesn’t resonate with them, as it does us.

“I believe that it requires both of our aspects to appreciate the magnitude and significance of the event. I have many theories and no way to test them, but I get the impression that the spirits bridge the gap between the human and ghost dimensions in some way. Maybe they’re the spirits of the deceased. Maybe they represent something entirely foreign, but regardless, they make us feel something. Ghosts and humans alike lack the connection between both worlds. Ghosts fail to register the emotion of the event, and it’s much too alien for humans to form the necessary connection. We are in the unique position to appreciate this, and it’s hard to know how to feel about it.”

Vlad sighed, before continuing with a thought that would stick with Danny just as much as the spirit event.

“You have no idea how much it meant to me to be able to share this with you. For the first time in more than twenty years, I don’t feel quite as alone.”

Vlad tensed; clearly, he had revealed more than he had originally planned, and the significance of this seemed to hit him hard, because he looked about ready to bolt. Danny felt compelled to reassure him, and resolved to think about how weird that was later.

“Thank you,” he simply stated.

“I’m glad you did.”

A/N: Sorry for the sad, but it felt wrong to leave the last part without a discussion of the fallout. And it fit so perfectly with the theme!

Day 5 will be a direct sequel to this part, and should be up in the next couple of hours. This wasn’t my original intent, but unless otherwise stated, all the parts can be read as belonging to the same universe. Assume Phantom Planet didn’t happen. Thanks for reading!

#danny phantom fanfiction #ectober 2017 #flightyfiction #vlad masters #danny phantom #danny fenton #vlad plasmius #ghost zone #tw depression #tw isolation #tw loneliness #tw suicide ideation #tw dissociation #i write funny things too #i promise

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legend-waitforit-harry · 7 years

Text

The Only One part7

A big thanks to @twistofpayne for being a constant motivation and to y’all for sticking around though I’ve surpassed by own standards of procrastination, sorry about that. You can catch up here.

Disclaimer:This has little to no relevance with the mythology so please don’t use it for educational purposes.

Also as I said, I have not done an in depth research so if I’m making a major mistake feel free to point out.

Content.

The feeling running through you can only be named so. Though you didn’t have any reason to be and you knew it. But when sleep came easily without calling out for your mother through tears and when your dreams weren’t haunted with galloping horses and swallowing darkness, you considered that term. And when you woke up smiling, jumping to your feet to start a new day, the thought became firmer. But you didn’t have any reason to be, and you knew it well.

With yesterday’s scene replaying in your head, Harry promising to let you in, though with a bargain, was a pretty big deal. The thought about all your questions being answered made you feel giddy, and though you know that it is somewhat your right, you feel privileged for that. And why shouldn’t you? But the most exciting part would be when he told you that you were free to go beyond the walls of the palace without being chaperoned. And though it was followed by a long lecture, that didn’t deter your rejoicing of the little freedom you gained. At last it was about time that you get to know the place that you call ‘home’ now.

You can still picture his face, eyes of the colour of spring leaves and face tilted down to match your eye level-“You can go out for sure. If this” he said pointing to the flower crown with his lips twisting on the corners, “is what I get for letting you out. But remember,” he continues in a much serious tone, “This isn’t your human world. You won’t find helpless mortals here. This is hell, full of nightmares. And I want you to be safe. Don’t want-….. Don’t want you to be harmed, alright. So listen carefully. I only ask you three things, don’t talk to any of the souls, they are brainless, heartless spirits who’ll whine and plead to anyone who listens. They are where they are because they had it coming, nobody can change that, not even me. Second, don’t go out of the gates of the realm without letting anyone know, I trust you not to. And the most important thing,” His hands rested on your shoulders as he leaned forward and your ears perked up for the words to follow, “Do not ever, and I mean ever, go to Tartarus.”

He didn’t explain the last part and you didn’t dare ask him, though you had some vague idea what it could be about. You knew better than to push him. The discussion ended pretty soon after that. With Erebus storming in and Harry hiding your crown quickly and you holding in a fit of giggles. Erebus, as always, gave you a toothy grin that reached his eyes, but then you think you saw a shade of disapproval when his eyes landed on Harry, though even the idea of anyone showing their disapproval to the Lord of Death sounded absurd to you. You were soon ushered out but you didn’t complain. At last, with all the promises you had a long day to plan ahead of you. And in that haste you even brushed off Nyx on your way, though you soon felt guilty and went back to promise her a visit later.

But when you remember the plans your shoulders drop with a sigh. You realized your movement wasn’t solely restricted by Harry, but also his hell hound waiting outside for anyone who’d like to fall his prey. And from experience you could tell that you don’t want to be that ‘anyone’. And though somewhere in the back of your mind you know he won’t do anything as long as you obey his owner, you didn’t really trust his animal instincts and decided to befriend him first before going anywhere. And that’s how you end up heaving a steak, that you swear weighs as much as you, heading towards his den.

You stumble and drag your way to the corner you know is allotted to him. But on reaching there, instead of the beastly snarls that you were expecting, you are met with soft whimpers along with some murmuring and coos. You are sure that your ears are ringing until you see the scene playing in front of you. Harry petting Kerberos, with the hound’s three heads nuzzling or licking him all over and his tail wiggling in adoration. And the feeling is mutual. With a gleam in his eyes, you have never seen Harry smile so bright, so genuine and just so…. Vulnerable. You feel like you’re witnessing something you aren’t supposed to, something private, and that makes you avert your eyes. But Fates doesn’t agree with you, as you stumble over grabbing both of their attention.

“I hope you are not planning to eat that whole thing alone.”

You look up to see Harry smirking at you with Kerberos now settled on his lap but eyes fixed on you with a mean look. You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding relaxing your shoulders. “This is for…” you tilt your chin to the hound as Harry looks down at him petting on his head.

Harry chuckles, “He cannot eat that! He is vegetarian.”

The piece of meat falls from your hand with a thud as you stare at him in astonishment. You’ve never heard about a hound being vegetarian, let alone the hell hound. But Harry finds your surprise amusing as he couldn’t stop laughing at you.

“C’mere, lil’ one. You got to learn a lot.”

You consider his offer but settle down right where you are, at a safe distance from the ‘vegetarian’ hell hound. And that amazes him even more, chuckling away until you frown at him and nod to start with whatever his explanation was.

“You seriously can’t expect the Keeper of the Dead to be swayed by meat. That’ll be a major crisis then!” his pitch rising along with his brows and his eyes wide with excitement for something you still don’t understand. And you decide that Harry with Kerberos is the best side of him.

You have to bite your lip to keep from smiling as Kerberos takes back the attention nuzzling into Harry’s chest and Harry starts cooing at him as if you aren’t even there. And as your mind unknots from his weird declaration you don’t even realize when you think out loud, “When did you meet him?”

Your question startles the both of you and you immediately want to eat your words but Harry soon relaxes with a light shake of his head as he looks down at Kerberos who looks up at him as if even he understood the question.

“So is that your first question?” he smirks at you and you take a moment before nodding.

“I… well, when I first came here… I wasn’t prepared for all this" he said waving his hand around. "And there were a lot of responsibilities. Let’s just say I was a kid in the grown up’s world. And at times, I’d be… you know, and it was after one of them grueling court days when Erebus came to me with this lil’ guy here” he looks down when Kerberos whimpers wagging his tail and for a second you think he forgot you are there again. “He is not just my pet; he is my friend, my o-" he pauses with a heavy exhale, the emotions nobody thought he had threatening to surface. "You can say we grew up together.”

When he finishes, he doesn’t look up and neither can you look away. The air is only filler with Kerberos' whimpers as he buries further into Harry's chest as if he knows Harry needs it. The intimacy of the scene doesn't escape you. He is really letting his walls fall for you, letting you in. And that scares you as much as it is satisfying. You’ll have to do the same, but can you?

“Are you planning to answer that or…” his fingers snapping at your face brings you back from your train of thoughts and you clear your throat with an apology.

“So, my turn. Why didn’t you leave?” You blink at him a couple seconds longer trying to sort out your thoughts. “I mean, not that you’d have succeeded but you never even tried, not if I don’t count” and on cue Kerberos barks which startles you. “Why didn’t you ever fight for yourself?”

He asks the last part so softly that it scares you, not from him, but from yourself. You have flashbacks of when you were wounded and crying to go back home, of the times you woke up from nightmares wishing that your mother was here, or rather you were there. Why didn’t you try? Was escaping here never a motive? Did you never want to ‘escape’ this place or was there no place for you to escape to? These thoughts scared you of some secret that you had safely tucked in the back of your mind, even out of your own reach. But here he was, the man who turned your world upside down, staring right at you not to intimidate you but just waiting patiently for you to let him in, like he let you.

“I… I don’t think I was brave enough to face you, or gather the courage to go against you. Guess I was just too scared of you” you say with a shrug, trying to sum up as smoothly as you can. But he doesn’t seem convinced, at all. And for a split second you think this is it, he’d close the deal and you’d be back to what you were, his prisoner…. Or were you?

But he doesn’t dig in, and you don’t know if it’s because he just wasn’t interested or he thought better of it but you sigh in relief nearly thanking him out loud.

“Here take this” He looks up at you handing you a broccoli from the pile you didn’t notice till now and your gaze falls on it then back at his face with a questioning look. “Isn’t that why you came here? To bribe Kerberos to tolerating you?”

You roll your eyes at his choice of words, instantly forgetting all your worries as you lean forward taking the vegetable, still not really believing on his ‘vegan’ hound theory. He nods at you encouragingly as you crawl at a safe distance from Kerberos. The hound pants looking at you and you feel that even Kerberos is trying to give his best. But when you lean too close you get confused which head of the three you’re supposed to feed and then his patience is over and he just eats it out of your hand while you hold back a shriek.

“There yeh go. See, didn’t I tell yeh?” Harry sounds proud though you don’t know who it’s directed to and you just stick your eyes to Kerberos enjoying his meal. And that innocent look makes you want to pet him but stop mid air with your fears taking over you.

“Go on” Harry says softly, his voice laced with adoration. And you couldn’t deny that as you let your hand run through the silky fur over Kerberos’ back. The feeling gets accustomed to you as you run your hand along his back while feeding him and you can see a glimpse of that small pup with a baby God, laughing and playing and just being each other’s everything in a world as dark and gruesome as the pit of hell. But that brings another question to your mind.

“Harry, what-“

“How long has it been? Oh, I should be going, I got a whole lot of work piling up.” He interrupts you standing up ready to leave.

“But I had another question.” And you hate how meek you sound when Harry is being all authoritive.

“One mystery each day, lil’ one” he says while leaving and you harrumph at this new rule. But as you pet Kerberos, who is still licking your hands, you think maybe that’s for your own good.

Strangely for you, leaving Kerberos didn’t come so easy. Now you understood what Harry meant, the comfort and ease shared with him came handy. Kerberos felt like an old friend, with whom you can share all your secrets and trust them to remain so, your confidant. So when the time came and you had to say bye, though only temporarily, you didn’t really want to. But then again, you had to walk away from the tail-wagging, panting pup looking up at you with big brown shining eyes, who has accepted you as well, with a promise of visiting again soon.

But stepping away from the comfort of having a company gave a chance to your own demons to corner you. Your mind fogging with your previous thoughts. Maybe, that’s what he wanted, the trick you were waiting for him to pull. To let you destroy yourself. And you had to agree it was working.

You try hard to convince yourself that you meant it when you said you’re scared of him, and you know to an extend it’s true. But there is just something that’s eating you up from inside. The thought about actually being happy away from ‘home’, actually wanting to stay here a bit longer, to not fighting hard enough. The memories come rushing to you, when you were back up there and wished everyday to run away, cursing and pleading. You didn’t belong there, you knew that, even long before you were here. But do you belong here?

To escape your own thoughts you duck in the corridors of the palace, heading towards what you knew to be Nyx’s chamber, thanking the darkness around you as you are allowed to be in your bubble. You did promise her to visit later but you aren’t sure if she is expecting you right now. So when you find her door cracked open and see the back of her head you don’t know if you should interrupt or not. By the looks of it, she is in a conversation with, who you assume from the shadow to be, Erebus and you feel it’s not the best time to be here. But when you hear a scowl followed by, “This isn’t right. She shouldn’t be here” you stop.

“She doesn’t belong here, nothing can be right as long as she is here.” Erebus confesses aggressively.

“You’re over thinking. Anyway, it’s not your place to be making that decision. I’m sure he has thought it out.” Nyx says calmly, as if this isn’t the first time she is having this conversation.

“It doesn’t seem so. All the three realms are in a chaos because of her, if he thought this out he didn’t do a very good job at it.”

“Do not- He can hear you. Don’t say such things out loud. And what are you going to do about it anyway?” Nyx tries to confront her husband though it only agitates him more as he turns towards her, showing you his blazing face.

“Don’t forget I’m not scared of him. And it’s not I who’ll do anything, it’s you. You have to fix this ‘cause Fates knows this child has lost his mind over this new obsession of his.”

You can see the fire in Erebus’ eyes, the darkness settling on his face true to his name, the God of Darkness. But what you can’t see is Nyx’s face and that’s making you anxious. You know in your heart that Nyx is the only one you trust here and she’ll never hurt you and all you want right now is to hear that coming from her. So with your ears pressed against the heavy door you hold your breath waiting for her reply. And when she starts with a “You know…” your heart stops as well before dropping at her next words. “I’m trying.”

#i did this a while back #i'm sorry this took so long #thanks for sticking around #the only one #hades!harry #hades!harry fanfic #harry styles fanfic #my writing

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purging-foxfire · 7 years

Text

Prompt: Theme C: Legacy

Length: Around 1′825 words

Notes: I thought about writing something little around 500 words, but I got to excited... Also sorry for Al... Tomorrow’s prompt is family so he definitely gets his spotlight!

“Who are you?”

Dark eyes that speak of many tales, bore into him, almost as if they could look through him into his soul.

“Edward,” he mutters, before he straightens himself and speaks up, louder than before. “Edward Hohenheim.”

He hates that name, but if he wants to achieve his goal, he must use it in every way possible.

“Hohenheim… Hohenheim the Light’s son?!”

Mutters fill the hall and now thousands of gazes settle on him, searching for answers to their questions. Answers he might have – or might not. The man with the darkest orbs he has ever seen, looks at him with an unreadable mask.

“What might the great Hohenheim’s son want here?”

Besides the hall in which everyone was standing, there were only ruins. Ruins of houses and places, that once stunned and stole the breaths of every person, that took a step into this forgotten city among a sea of the clearest water he has ever seen.

“I’m seeking for something,” he answers, but doesn’t bother to specify. If everything goes his way, the people would end up with a reconstructed home, and he would have the information, and maybe even, the means to get what he wants.

The dark one narrows his eyes, but soon his expression is once again devoid of anything.

“And you mean to find it here? In nothing but mere ruins?”

“No,” Edward speaks, nothing but truthful. “I won’t find it here. Though a way to find it…”

And he doesn’t end his sentence, because he knows the other understands what he’s saying. It’s silent for a while, everyone too curious to disturb their conversation. Suddenly, a woman with blond hair steps forward, her brown eyes staring at him, like steel, unwavering.

“Riza!” the dark one whispers harshly. There is concern hidden in the voice, and Edward knows this woman is important.

“How do you plan to get whatever you want? You don’t believe someone will just tell you anything?”

Her voice is unforgiving and cold, but he can hear the curiosity in it. He snorts, surprising a lot of the people. “Of course not, I have thought this over though. There is something that I could offer.”

Now everyone’s face is filled with wonder and suspicion. They don’t trust easily, a good quality to have.

“And what would you offer be,” speaks the dark one, now standing in front of the woman, trying to shield here.

Edward smirks, as his eyes shine in the light of rays, that come through some gaps in the roof.

“The restoration of your city; in simple words, I’ll reconstruct every building here.”

Gasps fill the hall now, and everyone starts whispering. Even the dark one looks mildly shocked.

“How…,” whispers a man in the back, with blond hair and blue eyes.

“Hohenheim’s legacy,” he answers simply, and everyone understands, because they all have heard about the legends and tales of Hohenheim the Light.

“Well? What’s your answers?”

The people look at each other for some minutes, before the dark one speaks up.

“I’m Roy Mustang… and we’re willing to handle with you, if you show us prove.”

And showing them prove he does, once he clasps his hands and pretty building stands in the middle, of what once has been dirt and stones. Before he knows it, there are people cheering, shouting and laughing, as they stand in the middle of a gorgeous city with shining buildings.

Roy and Riza stare at him with the most grateful gaze he has ever seen.

“Tell us what you want to know – anything.”

And thus, he tells them about corpses, red stones and a dead little brother.

It started when they were kids, Alphonse nine, and Edward himself ten. They had a loving mother and hardworking father. So hardworking and absent, that he didn’t notice how his wife was rotting away, in only the company of their children. Or maybe, he noticed, maybe he knew all along. Edward wouldn’t put it past him.

Like mentioned, the mother, Trisha, was dying slowly and painfully – though very good at hiding it despite the pain. And one day, when they last expected it, she collapsed – and never opened her eyes again. It was one that fateful day, where they father came back, every intent to make things better, as he showed them a red stone (oh, how much Edward hated that stone, despised it to it’s core). He didn’t make things better – he made them so, so much worse.

There is always price for everything, anything. And like a fool, Hohenheim believed his life would be price enough for his beloved Trisha – except that it wasn’t. It never could be, and never would be.

Truth, the probably cruelest and yet wisest god he has ever met, doesn’t take too kindly to people, who try to verify the price of a live.

“A life for one? Don’t make me laugh! What about the memories? The experiences? The age? The amount of love and everything? You see a life is unpriceable.”

A speechless father and two scared children. Truth took his price.

“A man, a child and two limbs – there you go, have your beloved wife back.”

And Edward woke up to a deformed corpse, missing two limbs, and with only the last words of his father and brother to remember them by.

“Destroy them – this was a horrible mistake; how couldn’t I see? Destroy them all, Edward! Do you hear me? Des..tr.. the.. all – th… red.. sto…”

“Brother!! Don’t… do… anything stupid… I love…y…”

Edward doubted he would ever try to repeat what his father did.

“My best friend, Winry, and her grandma, Pinako, found me and gave me two metal limbs upon my wish. Then we buried the corpse – Pinako and me, Winry shouldn’t have to see… it… - after that, I searched through the things in my father’s studies. Those stones… there were a lot of them… I found his notebook with the location of every stone… He never put them in the same place… too scared someone might find them and take them all.”

“Obviously, people found them and tales were told. As for the notebook… some of the papers were torn and it was clear, that not every location was in the notebook… but I promised myself and Al – heck, even that bastard of a father, that I would destroy them all. And the one I’m searching… it’s the last one, and I heard people here would have legends and…”

He doesn’t finish speaking – too exhausted, too tired and they respect that.

They give him the knowledge he wants – the last red stone’s hiding place. In the middle of a desert of course, and Edward - something cold and dark settling in his stomach – already knows which one. Of course his bastard of a father would hid it where his hometown once resided. Stupid, he chides himself. He should have known.

“Thank you,” he says, ready to leave. But they stop him. Roy, Riza and four other guys.

“We’ll come with you,” Roy says, and there is determination in his voice and fire in his eyes. Fire that could burn worlds.

“And don’t you dare to protest,” Riza speaks, and there under the shining light of the sun, besides Roy, she is water. The water that could drown worlds, that holds Roy’s fire in check – and Edward agrees, too stunned to say anything else.

They travel some days and he gets to know them. He gets to know Havoc with his driving skills and cigarettes, he gets to know Breda with his funny jokes, he gets to know Fuery with his knowledge about technology and his shy manner and he gets to know Falman with his knowledge on everything.

He sees Riza’s gentle side, as she gives him her jacket when she thinks he is too cold, and he gets to see her strict side, as she chides him from injuring himself – even if they are mere scraps and scratches.

He sees Roy’s serious side, as he explains the danger of some actions to Edward and commands him to stay by their side, but he also meets Roy’s fun side, which is all about teasing and ruffling Edward’s hair.

And Edward notices – of course he does – they behave so weird around him, almost like - like parents.

But he ignores it, because he doesn’t have parents, and he certainly doesn’t have a life after this.

They find the stone among ruins (how funny) and Edward destroys it. The legacy of his father is gone. It’s that simple.

But it gets difficult once he turns around, facing the people that spend the last weeks with him. Which he grew to like – which grew to like him. He doesn’t know what to say, but he knows what he wants to say – goodbye.

(Or does he?)

He tells himself that it’s better soon – to vanish completely, too take that terrible knowledge with him into the depths of nothing, but forgetfulness.

But then he looks up and six pair of eyes stare at him with happiness and relief for him, with love. And he wants to cry so badly and he remembers.

“Hey, Ed? How old are you even?”

“… 15. I’ve been doing this for five years.”

And he remembers how they always used to ask him what he would do once he was finished – as if they didn’t doubt he would finish.

“Well, Pinako and Winry live somewhere else now… we were the only ones in that town and after – I guess they wanted to see some new sights… And I guess… I have no idea what I’m going to do after this.”

He was always too scared to tell them, that he planned to die after everything.

“Hey… Edward…”

And now Riza is standing before him, a hand on his shoulder, looking at him with… uncertainty and something like fear?

“Would you like…” Roy continues, and Edward is too used that those both simply know how to end each other sentences. They do that often and he knows that comes with their knowledge of each other and time.

Roy wears the same look as Riza, and Edward is worried.

But then Havoc grins, as he lies and arm around Roy shoulders.

“Come on!”

And Fuery smiles encouragingly at Riza. Then both, Roy and Riza, stare at each other, communicating with each other, before looking at Edward.

“Would you like to live with us?”

“We have a spare bedroom.”

But he hears the words hidden in their sentences – Would you like to start off new? We wouldn’t mind looking after you.

Like parents, like family.

And suddenly he knows he can cry. He does, in front of them, and the panic.

“Brother!! Don’t… do… anything stupid… I love…y…”

Don’t do anything stupid.

“I… I would love that… living with you.”

A new legacy to carry one. A better on.

A family.

#fmaauweek2017 #fma #fullmetal alchemist

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bonesandpoemsandflowers · 7 years

Text

I used to go to various spooky cities pretty regularly, just for fun. Aesthetic, fun, spooky dates and spooky love, tres goth, whatever. The past few years I have had much less time for fun, and that’s been mostly on purpose.

But the LAST time I went somewhere spooky for fun, it was Savannah, not New Orleans, in, hmm, summer 2015? Yes. The weekend before my best friend died, you see, not that I knew that was going to happen when I--well--I’m getting head of myself.

Bunch of highly personal spiritual shit under the cut. Don’t click if that’s not your bag. If it is your bag, I hope you like skeletons.

I grew up Santera, right. I was dedicated to Oshun at an early age. My mother got more into Vodou as time went on, and in Miami, at least, those lines are really blurry. But like all kids that grow up in bomb ass mystery religions, I went through a rebellious Wiccan early teen and-it-harm-none hippie dippe phase. As you do, honestly. It’s a thing.

And then, as an adult, for most of my adult life, I was an atheist. I never talk about this, and I kind of hem and haw and skirt the issue of what exactly I do now, despite the occasional witchy post. I was never an obnoxious atheist, and arguably I was never a really good atheist, because it’s not so much that I didn’t believe, but that I decided I shouldn’t, and that’s not the same thing. But time went on and I managed to bury that kernel of belief very deep. I didn’t want to come across as credulous. Give me my GMOs, give me my artificial sweeteners, give me all the fucking science and none of your anti-science bullshit that you wrap up in absurd and appropriated tidbits of mysticism.

(and a lot of that stands, actually. give me my GMOs.)

So: I was an atheist, and I was trying very hard.

Certain powers, you see, are patient.

I kept the aesthetic and my cultural pride, though--Oshun and Erzulie always got my hushed little prayers in quick mind whispers. Oshun got votive candles no matter how far from belief I allegedly got, and to Erzulie I gave my skin--and this was a devotional act, full stop, despite everything else I claimed to not believe. And the ocean, I never stopped worshiping the ocean in one sense or another, and even my poetic obsession with the ocean is devout.

however.

Someone I shoved out of the picture entirely.

Certain powers, you see, are indulgent. They’ll wait for your silly little human insecurities to play out. up to a point.

In my dreams since I was a child I have been friends with a decomposing skeleton wearing a tophat. As I got older I recognized who that was supposed to be.

I don’t even remember when or specifically why I threw out my magic shit and put my Baron bust in a closet, but I did. I couldn’t get rid of the Baron Fabulous bust, even though I tried to make myself want to do that, so I climbed on top of my kitchen counter and shoved it into the back of a pantry far too high for me to reach.

And then and only then did I make any real progress in pretending to be a legit atheist. Out of sight, out of mind, out of life, motherfucker!

So the point is, I went to Savannah in full on sneering mode. “Hah! This hotel claims to be haunted! What a quaint marketing strategy. Midnight one man show of ghost stories in a historic theater? Sure, I like atmosphere and aren’t people so suggestible?. After hours tour of a huge famous cemetery? Hahaha sure whatever that’s cute, thanks for booking us for that, babe. Let me prance through here and not say hello and leave no offerings, let me laugh and sneer and make fun.

Anyway, so then I had the single most terrifying weekend of my entire life.

I have had a lot of mundane real life scary shit happen to me. And I’ve had a bunch of weird shit happen to me. And yet I have never, ever told anyone the full story of what happened to me in Savannah. I can’t. Even if I sat you down, looked you right in the eye, and told you everything, and you believed me--I would not be able to explain to you the DEPTH of everything, how it felt. What it meant.

And what played out soon after.

I joke about this weekend, but only because I’m making fun of myself. For being an idiot. And a rude idiot, too. So disrespectful.

I took most of this in stride at the time--sort of. I flailed around and I panicked and I knew I had to make some changes. Years after I had put him there, I scaled my kitchen counters, pulled the Baron out of my pantry closet, put him up on a prominent bookshelf in my apartment and said, basically, “MY BAD I’M SO SORRY.”

I mention this, sometimes, and I mention my best friend dying, and I think some people think that I’m implying a cause and effect relationship there. Absolutely not. In no way whatsoever. I don’t think magic works that way at all, and, frankly, I’m insulted you think my deity so petty.

I knew someone was going to die. I knew. I don’t mean in a nervous, jittery, “am i losing my mind?” kind of way. I don’t mean in an anxious gnawing preoccupation kind of way. I don’t mean in a doubtful dreading way. I don’t mean paranoia. I don’t mean fear. I don’t mean anxiety.

I mean that I knew. I knew someone close to me was going to die. I knew that was nothing I could, or should, do about it.

I was being warned, not as a threat, but as a kindness.

I knew. When we called the cops and the cops eventually called us and the door was getting bust open at 3 something AM, I knew. I was there and fully awake and well dressed.

Why? Because I fucking knew.

I didn’t put on pajamas that night. I showered and changed into a fresh set of clothes.

“What are you dressed for? Come to bed.”

Fine, I’ll come to bed. But I won’t sleep.

And I didn’t. Because I knew. I knew I was just going to have to get up and get dressed again, and I knew why.

And so it was, and at 2 something AM, we got the call, and I soberly drove us over to my best friend’s neighborhood, and I knew.

Did it still hurt? like a MOTHERFUCKER. like you will not believe unless you’ve lost someone that close to you, and if you have, I am sorry.

So it wasn’t the terrifying weekend that brought me back.

It was that warning, that kindness. That mercy.

And oh, did it still hurt. My friend who died was my best friend and also my best social outlet. We used to go dancing every weekend and he was a b boy in addition to being a personal trainer and a huge nerd. I adored him. Z adored him. And he adored us.

So his death was a big deal. And his death, so close to my personal decision to come back to magic, that was a big lifestyle change.

I’ve written about that before, and how then I slowly became a hermit in a tower. Hermitage. Spiritual hermitage along with the writing, along with the increase in physical discipline. I have learned many things. Not half as much as I’d like? Sure. Nonetheless.

But there was a lot of terror, at first. And a whole lot of other emotions. And I haven’t sorted that out yet.

Here’s what I’ve only just realized, though.

That weekend, and what came soon after, and that process I went through? That is a bonafide reawakening, my friends. That is some born again shit. That might seem obvious in the telling, but it WASN’T, as it was happening.

You don’t realize that change is going to stick, sometimes, and even when you say “things will be different now,” you don’t know what that’s going to mean.

and don’t get me wrong: I was, for a time, VERY distracted from the spiritual quest.

There are shamanistic traditions that talk about cracking open the head as a form of initiation.

Now, I’ve had my head literally cracked open--or more accurately, carefully drilled open by a highly skilled neurosurgeon. So, check, I guess.

But when I look back at the absolute, like--

Everything that’s happened since then.

So much has happened since then.

And so much happened as a result of that weekend, and the thing is, it was a total confluence of events that brought me to Savannah, nothing of my doing, really. A hottie booked me a romantic trip and so I went, duh. Wouldn’t you?

But so here I am, all these years later, which isn’t even really that many years later, and my world is so fundamentally different. So much has changed and I didn’t even notice it changing at the time. And so much has remained the same, too, and I am forever grateful for those precious constant things. I love you, my constant star, and I always will.

But body, soul, aesthetic, skill set, academic knowledge, everything! So much is different! So! fucking! much! AND I lost all my material possessions!

And here I am, booking a hotel, grabbing a friend, and making my way to New Orleans. Just for the weekend. If a confluence of events brought me TO Savannah, it almost feels like this has been the opposite. I have been so stressed lately, about everything. I didn’t think I was going to be able to swing this, period, let alone last minute. But you know, really? So much fell into place for me, here and now. There’s been so much luck. So much grace.

So even if, like, nothing happens--even if I somehow manage to have the most boring weekend ever, which I’m SO not going to do, but whatever, even if--there’s still something, something...

An initiation? Not exactly, I don’t think. A rite? A proof? I don’t know, exactly.

A chance to apologize? Well, yes. Always more of those.

But I think of the last couple of years, and I think of the future plans I’m trying for.

And I feel, more than anything

That my divinity is loving to the point of indulgence, and understanding, and kind--

but ultimately, ultimately, if he holds out his bony hand

I still have to step up and take it.

Ten years ago, in my dreams, he asked me a question.

And only now am I finally saying:

yes.

What does saying yes look like? What will that mean? I can’t see the shape of it yet. And it honestly kind of doesn’t matter.

yes, yes, yes.

#personal

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