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parricider · 11 months

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´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ✮ ⧽ 𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐋 (@timelocker):

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ✮ ⧽ she had given him a pamphlet two days earlier, and he recalled her words as she had put it in her hand, now as he stood in a crowd.

❝ dress up, ❞ she said, playful smile on her face. music festival in town, and she was excited to take the stage for herself.

❝ not gonna be a time-out concert, but hopefully whatever bozos i end up with can play a few good notes. ❞ rascal snickers, grin showing off a few teeth. ❝ you gonna be there, right ? when i take the stage. ❞

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ✮ ⧽ the lights of the stage move, pointing center. there's confusion, there's whispering and hubbub, confusion on the elevated scene. rascal stood there, guitar in hand, as the rest of the band that had just closed their number stare at her in disbelief -- their leader literally pushed off the stage.

❝ i want you to see. ❞

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ✮ ⧽ the mic pics up, causing mobians to cover their sensitive ears; it brings silence all around. rascal's foot slams on the ground, her fingers playing the first notes of her tune.

❝ MOBIUS !! ❞ gloved fingers keep playing, the intro getting longer. ❝ you callin' THIS a concert ?! where i come from, we call this a FUNERAL !! YOU ALIVE OR WHAT ?! ❞

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ✮ ⧽ the crowd bursts in response, the leaderless bandmates share another look. the drums begin to join in, then the bass. how easily she brings groups together. ❝ life's short, so spend it HAVIN' FUN ! spend it in EXCITEMENT ! spend it DEFYING what you know, make it SHORT, make it QUICK, make it WORTH IT ! so, together -- ❞

❝ LET'S BE ALIVE !!! ❞

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ♛ ⧽ HAVOC’S FUCK SAKE . . . NO. he sure as hell was NOT having even a lick of ‘ FUN ’. he wasn’t exactly having a chipper ol’ festive time being nauseatingly-carouseled around in some WILE E COYOTE x RUBE GOLDBERG TORTURE MACHINE COLLABORATION thrown in as a 100000x bonus points area in some LAUGHINGSTOCK PINBALL GAME, where he was the ball. nope. his minds cape was already retrograding into completely-losing-his-shit-mode; already scheming up a whole arsenal of oh-so persuasive sick-note excuses for being M.I.A from ras’ stage-heist that she has been giddily conniving for the past two days. . . a performance that he had PROMISED he’d be there for. for her. for the first time, as a friend, but . . .

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ♛ ⧽ HE WAS THIS CLOSE. THIS CLOSE TO SPIN-BARRELING THROUGH HIS BRITTLE THRESHOLD OF PATIENCE. . . some fucking boozy meathead gator dude had already unknowingly ka clinked their elbow-épée hard, brain-schismingly hard, against the hedgehog’s forehead when they had dipped down to slabber drool all over their girlfriend, & oh-ho. oh yeah, that slug definitely knocked out a pretty hefty glass CHIP out of one of the lenses of his favorite pair of shades. YAAY. . . FUCKING EN GARDE. CHEERSH.

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ♛ ⧽ quills bristled the fuck up as scourge excruciatingly attempted to quash the spumous urge to grab that gator by the tail & slam them hard against the ground, & knock a chip of bone out of their horndog cranium, because. . . he. . . didn’t want to risk siphoning away any lick of attention from HER. but at the same time, he was admittedly. . . getting more & more antsy about being here ( he felt like a malignant, pustule-ly GREEN CYST jutting out like a sore quill in a leaf pile on the curbside of some cul-de-sac nestled somewhere within the seventh layer of prime paradís– or wherever the fuck– whatever. WHATEVER. HE DIDN’T BELONG HERE. )

BUT SHE DID. SHE BELONGED EVERYWHERE.

. . .

SOMEONE’S REALLY EDGIN’ OUT HER USUAL ‘ PUNCTUAL ’ SHOWIN’ UP UNINVITED. SOMEONE’S REALLY TAKIN’ HER SWEET ASS TIME FOR ONCE, HUH ?

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ♛ ⧽ when the hell was she. . .--

MOBIUS !!

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ♛ ⧽ NOW THAT’S THE CATHARTICALLY EXHILARATING ENTRANCE HE’D BEEN CAMPING OUT FOR LIKE A MIDNIGHT RELEASE. . . the stage lights almost sentiently illuminated the moebian savior; the liberator, the deus ex machina, the interdimensional defender. . .

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ♛ ⧽ JOT THIS DOWN IN YOUR COUNTERFACTUAL HISTORY BOOKS, MOBIUS. moebius isn’t irreparably far gone, because WE HAVE HER. get schooled.

´ ･ . ✶ ━━ ⧼ ♛ ⧽ a single gloved fist is pumped up into the air, thumb & pinky fingers sticking out to resemble devil horns as scourge’s gaze locks with rascal’s.

HE WANTED HER TO SEE THAT HE DID SHOW UP

HE WANTED HER TO SEE THAT HE WAS LOCKED & LOADED TO FEEL ALIVE

TO REALLY FEEL ALIVE. FOR THE FIRST TIME.

#メ 👑 ━ 𝐂𝐔𝐙 𝐈'𝐌 𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋 '𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐋𝐋 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 凸( •̀ヮ•́メ )凸 . 【 ic 】#timelocker #THAT'S!!!!!!!!!! MY!!!!!!!!! FUCKING!!!!! HUSBAND!!!!!!!!! SHE'S GONNA FUCK THE EARRRTHHHH!!!!!!!!

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can-i-write-well-yet · 2 years

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The Truth About Your Heart P2

P1/P2

Part two here we go! I had most of this written out when I put part one out, but thought it needed just a little more before posting it, so it got saved to drafts where I thought I'd work on it later, and then i had to get ready for a trip to visit my parents and my SIL's chiropractor F'd up her back and I had a frightening couple of days where i thought i might've had a malicious cyst and well...

It's later now I guess...

Anyways~ To Part TWO!!

Chapter Two.

King was face to face with Ban, and he hadn’t seen the Fox Sin of Greed this pissed since fighting the literal king of demons, even then it was never aimed anywhere near King so having it happen now was unsettling to say the least.

“Why King? Why the fuck is Captain asking for the kids to join us? He’s never asked before.” He started to pace around the room, picking up bags and various items while talking, “This has something to do with that prophecy the old man spat out doesn’t it? It already involves one of my kids, is he trying to drag one of the other two into it?”

“Ban.” King grabbed his brother-in-law's arm to turn him to look at him, “Calm down, lest you forget that you’re not the only person with a child of prophecy.” King took a breath before continuing, “And you said yourself, this might not be anything more than the Captain being bored and wanting to see us. I know you’re worried but accusing the Captain of foul play when he has no control over it won’t help anyone.”

Ban looked back at his old friend, his brother now, and closed his eyes, slumping into a chair and placing his face into his hands.

“I know,” He spoke softly, “I know it won’t, but I can’t do this King. I can’t live with this fear of my kids being sucked into a fucking apocalypse, I don’t know whether I want to be dead before we figure them all out or just know and have it be over with.”

King nodded solemnly, when Bartra invited all the sins to meet, they never expected to be given a vision of those Four Knights, who would either stop the apocalypse, or be its cause.

When Gowther used his magic to share what exactly Bartra was seeing. That was his first mistake.

King saw Meliodas fall, just for a moment, as if the shock had taken away all his strength. King would’ve fallen too if he saw his own son in that vision.

Seeing Tristan, an adult Tristan, shocked all of them to say the least, King could only imagine what was going through his Captain's mind. And either Meliodas had purposely shut King out or his mind simply went blank from fear, but King couldn’t read his heart. All he could feel was bone deep fear emanating from his once fearless Captain.

He was just glad that Elizabeth hadn’t been with them, he didn't think he would’ve been able to stand hearing her heart, which had always been a painfully open book.

Tristan was the Third of the children of the Seven Deadly Sins, with King's own son being born right after his and Diane’s wedding, and King's nephew (Lancelot, the poor lost boy, his first nephew, who he was afraid might’ve been his last) beating Tristan by just one month.

King was close with all of the children, he never expected to have such a natural talent for child rearing but he was glad he did, whenever the girls would need a day off and the boys would take the kids, Mel and Ban would always be rushing to King for advice, which was new.

‘How do I heat the milk up? How hot does it need to be? What if I burn him!?’

“Just warm it up a little, it doesn’t need to be hot, it just needs to not be cold.”

‘I’ve tried bouncing him and feeding him and changing him but he’s still crying! Does he hate me!? What do I do!?’

“He doesn’t hate you Ban, he just needs his chewie, he’s teething and his teeth probably hurt a little.”

‘King, what's a Binkie? Eli left me a note saying Tristan needed it for sleep but I don’t know what it is!’

“Probably a blanket, didn’t he used to drag around that old purple one Lady Veronica made for him everywhere? It’s most likely that one.”

‘King I will pay you whatever you want if you’ll give them pillow rides.. Please, that's all he wants to do and he says he won’t breathe until he can.’

King was proud to be the one who knew what he was doing while the others were standing around clueless for once in his life. So he never complained whenever he would be given the kids to watch, he loved being with them, Lance was the calmest child he had ever met and would spend most of his time following around King’s children to ask them to play, and Tristan was just in awe of most things King did, and would ask him to tell him stories while sitting on Chastiefol.

King adored Tristan for who he was and what he represented, Peace. Finally after 3000 years, a child of Meliodas and Elizabeth was born, they had waited so long for a child but never risked it before their curses were broken.

Seeing Tristan in that vision, with cold eyes and a war-torn look on his face, covered in heavy armor and riding upon a white horse shocked them all to their very core. They had never thought their kids would be dragged into war, not after all they had done to stop the last one, they had worked so hard for peace.

They knew something was wrong, after what happened to Lancelot they were all on guard, but they thought after they found him it would be done.

‘Five years isn’t that long’ they all had thought, ‘Surely after we find him and fix this we can all go back to living peacefully.’

Seeing Tristan had painfully reminded them all that while five years isn’t that long for them, five years was a third of their children’s lives. They’ve barely lived a decade and are already being thrown into war.

Yes, they were all distraught by seeing the young prince as the Knight in that vision but nothing could’ve prepared them for the knight that came next.

Ban hadn’t said anything when he saw the adult Lancelot standing there, he hadn’t said anything or moved at all, looking back, King realized that was probably due to the fact that he couldn’t breath.

To have not seen his first born for so long and then seeing him grown up in a prophetic vision warning them of the apocalypse? That must’ve hit hard, it apparently hit Gowther hard enough to have him make his second mistake, accidentally knocking them all unconscious.

It was dawn when they had gathered and midnight when they all awoke.

Gowther apologized profusely and tried to get the rest of the vision, but Batra’s mind was old, and his memory was shaky at best. He remembered that the other two knights would have Golden Magic, and Verdant, Wing-like hair.

The knight with the hair would be rather easy to spot, so they all quickly gathered that he must be out in the world somewhere, and wasn’t any of their children.

But the knight with Golden Magic could still be one of theirs.

King knew that Ban would be upset by the summoning, but he still wasn’t prepared for the rage and fear he felt from his brother-in-law's heart.

“I’m gonna go make sure everyone’s ready, calm your heart before coming out please? Everything will be fine, and I don’t want Deidrick or Ellie to pick up on anything.”

“Yeah yeah, I got it. Just go, I'll be out in a bit.”

As King left he spared one last look to the Fox Sin before leaving.

Ban was now left with nothing but his thoughts. And that was never fun. For anyone but especially not him.

This prophecy business was irking him, that fact that three knights were unaccounted for was problematic, the fact that they only knew who two of them even were wasn’t great either, and the fact that they only had one defining trait for each of the unknown two was fucking irritating.

They could literally be anywhere and anyone. The green hair wasn’t that bad because they could be easily identified. But the Golden Magic? Any child that hadn’t yet developed magic became a candidate. And since a large amount of the children he knew were still young, it was concerning, to say the least.

Ban was particularly concerned as neither of his youngest children had developed any innate magical abilities yet.

His daughter could float slightly and was growing healthily, Elaine’s best guess was that would likely inherit her magic, so he was less concerned about her.

But his second son, Gustav. That child worried Ban.

Gustav hadn’t displayed any magical abilities at all, and when Ban had asked around, none of his friends or acquaintances had sensed any innate magical ability within the boy.

Ban should feel relieved, but he wasn’t.

Despite most people believing that Ban was “A brute who couldn’t appreciate a good book if he was beaten to death with it, in fact they weren’t sure he could read at all”, (These were Gowther’s words to Ban after The Fox Sin had spilled Ale on Gowther’s Brand new Book, ‘A Week Spent With Fredrick’. Ban had apologized but Gowther was still bitter for about a month afterwards) Ban read quite a bit.

He had read about heroes who were a part of prophecies, and “The child without magic suddenly gains powerful magic and becomes a tragic hero” was a frighteningly common troupe.

So every day his son walked around with no magic, Ban would pray the child stayed that way.

The fact that the hero in the stories would always be from a long line of heroes or had some sort of tragic backstory, that only made Ban worry that much more, because he had adopted Gustav when the boy was seven.

And seven years is a lot of time unaccounted for.

Lancelot had been missing for two years when Ban made that journey to the edge of Benwick. It was a cold rainy night, in the middle of December. Elaine was waiting at home, heavily pregnant with their second child, and he had been extra paranoid since she was so close to her due date, and the rainstorms had started.

They had been tracking the weather like madmen ever since Lance and Jericho had disappeared that night, at this point Ban could feel the storm's arrival in his bones.

Even so, Ban couldn’t take any chances, so he was determined to do one quick check before heading back to his wife.

He was just about done when he heard it, a small cry of a child, how he had managed to hear it, let alone realize what it was through the tumultuous rain he didn’t know. But he hoped upon hope that maybe that cry belonged to Lance, that after two years his son had finally returned.

He dashed across the field to the middle of the valley in front of Benwick, calling out for someone to hear, he could barely see through the rain, he was soaked from head to toe.

He searched and listened but could hear nothing, see nothing.

He was almost convinced he had some sort of auditory hallucination when he heard it again, louder this time.

He pinpointed the sound coming from the stone near to where he and Jericho had last talked about the disappearances.

As he made his way there his hopes soared, finally, maybe he had found him. His son, his Lancelot.

His hopes were dashed almost as quickly as they had built. As he was ten feet away, there was a child there, behind the stone, but this child was just that, a child.

Lance would’ve been thirteen by now, and much larger.

As his hopes faded away into a despairing thought that he may never see his child again, his thoughts quickly turned to panic when he got closer and saw the child there, soaked worse then even Ban was, and the worst of it was the child wasn’t shivering.

Now Ban’s not the smartest but he knows that being that wet and cold your body should be moving trying to warm you up, that’s what the shivering was, the fact that the child wasn’t moving was more than concerning.

Ban began to walk to the child, ‘He has to be alive,’ Thought Ban as he approached, ‘He had called out to me, and I came here so fast, he couldn’t have died that quick.’

He put his hand on the kid's shoulder, slowly so as to not frighten him. The shoulder was as cold as he expected, when he turned the child’s body towards him, he nearly had a heart attack at what he saw.

Sunken in cheeks, and his frame was slim, too slim for a child, he had pale skin that stood out, even in the dead of night, Ban couldn’t even tell if the poor child was breathing or not.

Throwing caution to wind, he picked up the kid into his arms and removed the ripped, faded, useless, blue shirt to put his ear to the boy’s chest.

He had seen something like this before, a child that was cold, slim, and pale, (His sister had looked like this before she died) and he knew that no child could’ve survived a night like this all by themselves.

He knew that most likely what he heard was either the poor child's last hurrah, or the wind playing tricks on his mind. but still he hugged the cold child closer to his ear, hoping against all he knew.

‘Let me be wrong,’ He prayed, ‘Just this once, please let me be wrong.’

And for the first time in his life, it seemed God was on his side, for he heard it, the soft ‘bump-bump-bump’.

It came from the boy’s chest, and Ban swore he had never heard a sweeter sound in his life. He took off his jacket and wrapped it around the boy before taking off into the night, making a beeline for his home.

That night had been one of the most frightening, heartstopping, painstakingly slow nights of his life. He had brought the child home in a panic, holding him as close as physically possible, trying to warm him up.

Bursting into his home he had called out for Elaine, when she saw what he was carrying she immediately got to work, drawing a warm bath and breaking the emergency spell bead that had originally gotten as a way to summon Elizabeth to help with the birth.

To say Elizabeth was confused was an understatement, seeing as Elaine was still two months away from her due date. But she had quickly gathered what was going on and had chased Elaine and Ban from the washroom to focus on the poor boy.

Elaine and Ban had waited the whole night in the living room, waiting.

Elaine had fallen asleep two hours in, but Ban didn’t sleep that night, couldn’t sleep, not until he knew the boy would make it.

At midnight Elizabeth had come back down to them, looking as exhausted as Ban felt, and had told him that she had done all she could, and that the rest would be up to the boy.

She had offered to take Elaine to lay down while he watched over the boy, he had thanked her profusely for that.

He walked into the room with deep fear in his heart, as he saw the child lying there he had two conflicting emotions trying to settle within him.

One was a bleeding worry.

The child looked two steps from death’s door. Their breathing was erratic and heavy, interrupted with horrid coughs, their face was flushed a bright red, and he swore he could see tears leaking from the squeezed shut eyes. He was adrift with concern that the child might not make it through the night. He couldn’t take it, this child had barely lived. How old were they? They looked to be about five, but they were so thin, were they that small or starving? He didn’t know their age, he didn’t even know their name, he didn’t want to carve out a blank gravestone Goddamnit.

The second emotion was a deep, warm, fondness.

He looked at this child, so small, and saw his tiny eyebrows furrowed in anger, as if they were fighting against their sickness with all their tiny might. He looked at their small hands, clutching the blankets so tight they turned red, so small and so strong. He pushed back their bangs that were sticking to their head with sweat, he briefly wondered what color his hair would be when they got it cleaned? He had known this child for less then a day but he knew that he would protect him with his dying breath.

He had picked up a storybook Gowther had gifted him for Lance, deciding to read to the boy. As he read the book he could hear the boys breathing starting to settle into even breaths, no longer wracked with coughing.

When he finished the seventh story, a tale of two parents and their baby being saved by a ghostly warrior, the sun had begun to rise out the window, shining onto the small boy. That was when he heard it.

“P-please…” The child had spoken, Ban had barely heard it.

He got closer to the child, brushing his hair back and asking what he needed, water? Food? Was he cold?

The boy had furrowed his brows as he struggled to respond, but had managed to utter softly,

“Please… turn the stupid sun off… it’s hurting my eyes.”

Ban had never cried so happily in years.

The boy had taken months to fully recover, (He still had breathing problems to this day) but had been quickly inducted into Ban’s family. He couldn’t remember who he was, or where he came from. The last thing he remembered was walking through the rain looking for shelter, and calling out for help before collapsing, he didn’t know how far he had walked. He couldn’t remember what his name was either, so Ban and Elaine had decided to just call him their Boyo, just in case he remembered.

When Beru was born the boy had been quick to help wherever he could, making sure Elaine could rest comfortably and cleaning up around the house so it was easier. Elaine still recounts how helpful he had been to this day.

There was this moment, about four months after Beru had been born, when she was trying to roll onto her stomach while lying down on the bed, and she had somehow managed to wiggle her way out of her blanket pile and scoot near the edge of the bed without attracting Ban or Elaine’s notice, but she hadn’t escaped the boy’s.

She had nearly rolled herself off the bed but the boy had flung himself towards her and had caught her at the last moment, Elaine and Ban had rushed to the both of them to find their Boyo red faced, chastising the small baby about how she should’ve stayed in her blanket pile and had no reason to throw herself off the bed.

Beru just giggled, having no idea what the boy was saying but seemingly amused by him all the same. The boy wasn’t as amused but still carried her to Elaine, Beru still overcome with giggles.

Watching the scene, Ban had been reminded of something, a long memory buried deep back in his mind, of the only time he had ever seen Jericho’s older brother talk to her.

He had gone to check on her, mostly because he was told by Merlin to double check that he had actually fully removed the demon seed from her, but partly because he had felt slightly guilty for unintentionally driving her to become a demon host by purposely humiliating her at the prison, but you’d never hear him admit that outloud.

When he had finally found her, she was already in a heated discussion with someone else, her older brother.

He was apparently chastising her for ‘running herself ragged’ to which she countered with ‘walking down the street to get something to eat wasn’t running herself ragged, she was just bored for God’s sake!’ to which he then responded with ‘It’s running yourself ragged when we literally have people we pay to do that so you can rest you incorrigible dumbass! You had a DEMON residing in your body feasting on your emotions for months! AND YOU CAN’T REST FOR A WEEK!?’

His entire face had gone bright red with anger at his sister’s nonchalance for her own health, which she had apparently found hilarious because she had started laughing hysterically.

Her brother wasn’t as amused but he helped her back to her feet and they started the other way, Jericho laughing the whole way.

Ban stared at the children in front of him as he was reminded of that day, the only clear memory he had of his foster sister and her real brother, and remembered his name.

“Gustav.”

“Yeah Dad?” The boy had responded.

That one response had shocked both of the boys in the room into silence, the only thing anyone could hear was Beru, still giggling.

After trying to coax the boy out from under the bed, where he had hid in embarrassment, Ban had decided to talk with him about how he would adore if the boy wanted to call him Dad, and had asked why he had responded to the name.

“It felt right? I don’t know, you said it and it sounded like you were talking to me, sorry.”

“Kid, you don’t have to apologize, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Ban was lying down next to the bed on the floor on his back, talking to the child as he rested his small chin on his crossed arms.

“Does someone else already have it?” The child questioned.

“Have what?”

“The name, you said it. Does someone else have it or did you make it up? Like you did with Master Hawk?”

Ban fixed the boy with a slightly annoyed look, “Number one, Master Hawk is very real-” The boy fixed him with an equally annoyed look and scoffed slightly, “AND, no. I didn’t make it up, he was my-” He cut himself off there, were he and Gustav anything?

Jericho was Ban’s sister, and he was her Brother, you could pry that title from his cold dead hands, but he and Gustav were never close, had they ever even spoken to each other? Or was Ban just a stranger that had known Gustav’s sister and attened his funeral?

“He was your what?” The boy had scooted slightly out from under the bed, enough to lay his upper body on Ban’s chest to look him in the eye. And as Ban looked at the boy, he decided that he had already claimed Jericho, he was sure Gustav wouldn't mind if Ban decided to claim him too.

“He was my little brother, his name was Gustav, and he was an annoying older brother, seeing you nag Beru reminded me of him.”

The boy puffed his cheeks out in anger, “I wasn’t nagging!”He said fervently, ”She needed to know she can’t just roll herself off of places like that! She could get hurt!”

“She’s like three months old.”

“If you treat her like a baby she’ll never grow up! You gotta talk grown up like and then she’ll copy you! And besides, I know she knows better, you can tell from her eyes.”

“See? Naggy~♪”

The boy had then smacked Ban on the head before fully laying down on top of him.

“If he’s your younger brother, how could he nag like an older brother?”

“... He didn’t nag me, just our younge-” He choked up a bit at this point, he hadn’t really talked about Jericho since she and Lance had disappeared, he cleared his throat before continuing, “Our younger sister, Jericho…”

“Oh… D-do… Do you think he’d be… Okay with it?”

“Okay with what?”

The boy had curled up into the crook of Ban’s arm, he did that often, whenever he was unsure of things and needed comfort.

“With me using his name? Will it get confusing? Would he be mad?”

“No buddy, I think he’d like it. I think he’d like it a lot.”

“Okay… Then I’ll use it good, so he’s happy, I’ll grow up big and strong, so his name gets a good story.”

Ban broke into a wide grin at that, “Sounds like a great idea~♪, Super smart like.”

“Thanks… Dad.”

Ban was glad the boy had curled himself into his arm, he didn’t like letting kids see him cry.

“No problem… Gustav.”

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thebattleisoverbut-thewargoeson · 2 years

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TW: Sexual coercion, stealthing, women on contraception.

A friend of mine, E, is getting married in a month's time. Last weekend was her twice-postponed hen do (owing to the 'vid pandemic), arranged meticulously by her best friend, B. We stayed in a glorious Airbnb, with the Friday night involving games, a piñata, an outdoor jacuzzi and karaoke. Late Saturday afternoon, we went to the cocktail-making class which one of the hens, E's colleague, had booked.

During this, I went over to speak to B and A. I caught the tail end of B saying '...as soon as I came off them, I was fine. My body went back to normal'. She explained to me they were talking about contraception, then asked what my favourite form was. My initial response was: 'My personality does the trick!' before I told them that I'd been on a couple of contraceptive pills in the past which had led to multiple ruptured ovarian cysts, involving agonising pain and being rushed to hospital from work. These have always coincided with me either beginning the medication or ceasing it. Just over eleven years ago, I had an Implanon inserted into my upper arm which did prevent pregnancy when I was r*ped shortly afterwards however, six months later (having been celibate for that entirety), I had a period which didn't stop. When I went back to my GP surgery, they opted to put me back on the Pill for three months, AS WELL AS still having the Implanon in my arm. This prescription ran out just before that Christmas and when my period started that December, it didn't stop once again. I returned to my GP surgery in January 2012 and had been bleeding for six weeks by that stage. This time, I saw my usual female GP and she booked me in to have the Implanon removed and tested me for anaemia, given my prolonged menstrual bleeding.

I also disclosed to B and A, hesitantly, that I'd always been pressured into going on the Pill because every partner wanted to 'fuck [me] without a condom'. I used to be uncomfortable with asserting boundaries and instead of standing up for myself, I went along with it: visiting my GP, discussing different Pill options (ruling out any that could interact with my epilepsy medication) and taking contraceptive Pills as prescribed, purely so that my partner could relinquish any responsibility with regards to to sexual health or unwanted pregnancy in pursuit of his own pleasure. B confessed that her husband kept complaining about having to wear a condom after the birth of their second child four months ago. I suggested that her husband could go on hormones or get the snip if condoms bother him so much. A sneered that men don't want to go on contraceptive Pills because of the side effects, to which I replied: 'So it's fine for women to deal with headaches, migraines, nausea, weight fluctuation, mood swings, ruptured cysts, disrupted periods, acne, changes in libido and who knows what else?' She could only shake her head.

This conversation would've sobered me up, had I not already been drinking mocktails. Having not seen most of these women since our late teens when we were in sixth form, here we were at E's hen party thirteen years on, voicing our disheartening and disenchanting experiences with male partners pressuring us to sacrifice our body's natural hormone levels in order for them to enjoy 'raw' sex. Following instances of my last partner withholding contraception (telling me he'd put on a condom when he hadn't/ removing condoms without my knowledge or consent), meaning I had to seek emergency contraception, I've been celibate for over a year now and honestly? I have no desire to fall off that wagon. Often, I felt like I was just chronically unlucky when it came to this, yet clearly women everywhere share similar experiences. The hen party drove home that even in 2022, women are still expected to aspire to and prioritise events such as engagement and marriage to a man. There are separatism women's movements in Japan and South Korea for women who are sick of dealing with this nonsense. Perhaps it's time that women everywhere followed their lead. In fact, it's long overdue.

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platinumsim · 2 months

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The first day of women’s history month and PCOS is trending. I love to see it for me and my cysters but it’s nothing but a reminder of how we are still untreated in the medical field (they still won’t fund the research) and told that birth control is going to save us when it continues to do more harm to our already dissembled womanly system.

My person story 4 in a half years of prolonged bleeding (I’m not talking light bleeding either, VERY HEAVY AND CLOTTY WITH SEVERE PAIN, lost so much blood I was pale and developed pica, I was eating talc powder, chalk, tide washing powder) , cystic acne everywhere, losing my hair, cyst on both of my ovaries, male hair growth (chin, chest etc), all of my hormones out of wrack, and suffering with depression. The list goes on and at one point I couldn’t even see my obgyn till months out because “ expecting mothers was more important”. Gosh I still remember the day my grandmother had to come to high school to get me after just dropping me off an hour ago, the pain was so damn bad… I could barely walk and make it to the office, when I finally did I started crying so damn hard that it triggered the entire administration because they thought something had happened. I actually dropped out of high school my senior year because things had got worse and doctors wanted to start testing me for cancer.

I sit here today still suffering with so many of my symptoms but just grateful that during my worst of time I did not develop any of the multiple heart and stomach disorders/ diseases pcos CAN LEAD TO!!!! It’s very harsh in your endocrine and reproductive system. I hope I am not one that’s affected by infertility but I have a good feeling I am one.

#pcosawareness

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treadmilltreats · 1 year

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Happy birthday to my miracle baby

Sometimes you blink your eyes, and you can't believe how many years go by... Today is one of those days.

Today, my baby turns 24. Wow... Where did the time go?

I remember when they told me I was pregnant with her, it was the best day and the worst day of my life....

The doctor said "Congratulations you are pregnant... but there is a cyst growing, and we don't know if it's cancerous or not, so you need emergency surgery now."

Those words cut my heart. How do you do surgery while you're pregnant? When the cyst and the baby are fighting for space and are so close to each other? They didn't give her much odds to survive and told me so. I was 4 months along when they did the surgery. They said it would be a miracle if she did survive.

They obviously don't know the miracles God has done in my life. Years before her older sister was born, they told me I would never have children, so I wasn't listening to them now. She was born 6 months later after 7 hours in surgery and 6 months of bed rest, I had my "miracle baby"

She had my heart from the moment I held her in my arms, I already knew that she was so different from her sister. As soon as she learned to walk, it was game on. God forbid you let go of her hand, poof she was gone. She had a mischievous look in her eyes, always planning her escape. She had a hardy laugh and a smile that could and still can light up a room. She had this unbelievable attachment to a little pink elephant she named Ellie, he went everywhere with her hanging from her little hand while her thumb was in her mouth...This is the picture of her I will hold in my heart forever.

Today, she is a young lady. She turns twenty-four, a true adult, and long gone is Ellie and her days of escape. She is smart and athletic. She was a talented soccer player and straight A student in school. She is now almost finished with her college degree and has a fantastic boyfriend who I adore. She never gave me one second of grief... okay... maybe just a few.

She is funny as hell. She is sweet and kind, and she is an old soul through and through. She knows more old songs than I do.

I remember when she wanted to go with me to a Lionel Richie concert, she was the youngest one there and knew every word to every song, I was so proud.

She can sing and dance and has a can-do attitude even when things get tough. But what I love so much is that she has the biggest heart, she is an empath, and she has compassion for everyone and everything around her. I am so proud of the woman she has become and the incredible life she has ahead of her.

When we were in quarantine, I watched her blossom even in spite of what was going on in the world around us. She took on new projects with me, as I taught her how to use power tools, and she got a new attitude, even when things were rough. That time together, this us against the world attitude, me, her and her sister developed has made us closer. So, I am glad I had that time to bond with her even more. She single handedly takes care of her grandmother and sees her every week. She is kind and generous, and I have never been so proud to say that I am her mother, and I am so proud of her and the amazing woman that she turned into.

So today my friends, enjoy every moment with your children. Forget the dirty clothes, the dishes, the 101 chores that need to be done, they are only young once... Enjoy them now, this minute, because before you can blink your eyes, they will be all grown up, and you're here saying where did the time go.

Happy 24th birthday, my miracle, Cinco De Mayo baby... Sarah. I love you so very much and I am so proud of you! May God bless you with all you wish for!

"Be the change you want to see "

@treadmilltreats

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stegrossaurus · 1 year

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The Devil's Grandmother

The Devil’s Grandmother

by Xyla

The Devil’s up to something and we all know it. He was fairly upfront about it, for the most part, but we knew there was more to his order.

He came last night. The fireplace blackened with tar as the flame turned bone-white and the shadows in the living room thickened and grew. Every other light source flickered out and the air filled a smell I can only describe as a rotting egg falling down a bottomless pit. And then he walked into the room from a hallway that wasn’t there before on hoofed hind feet and pawed front feet. A crown of horns grew out of a head that mixed a rough, implacable goat and a savage, insatiable hyena. Everyone at the slumber party would swear that he locked those glowing golden eyes with them personally as the cobra growing from his throat spoke.

“Hello, my dears. I have splendid news,” he said in a wet hiss. “My grandmother will be coming to town on Halloween night. No need for sacrifices; just being around you adorable creatures will be fun enough for her. So let’s keep the deaths to a minimum, shall we?” His laugh wasn’t pleasant, but it was better than him being angry. Then his voice turned icy. “However, I will expect some effort put into your homemade costumes for the masquerade party the town will be throwing at my house. Make something you’d be comfortable appearing as for a while; I’d like the party to go until midnight. Be ready by 6:00, children.”

And then he was gone. The fire resumed its normal color and Disney+ lit up the TV. We tried to tell Brandy’s parents, but they didn’t believe us. Or they tried not to. Mrs. Porter’s eyes kept flickering to the spot on the wall that held a crucifix three years ago while she chided us for making up stories.

The next morning, after barely any sleep, we talked about what we’d seen and what to do.

“No one will believe us,” Giselle said sourly. “Let’s just make our costumes and let the rest of the town worry about itself.”

“There has to be a reason he told us,” Tamika said, almost giddy. “Maybe he wants us to spread his message. Maybe he wants us to be his heralds.”

“Maybe he visited several other people at the same time,” Phaedra muttered from behind her phone. “Social media’s been going off since last night. Anyone near any fire last night got the same visit. No need to tell anyone; the rest will know eventually.”

“Guess we just need to think up some costumes,” I said.

By now, a few hours later, Phaedra’s been proven right and the whole town knows about the Devil’s latest game. For the last three years, ever since the slate gray manor bubbled up in the town square like a cyst, we’ve been at the mercy of these games and rules. Onions are banned, snakes can be found everywhere and are given free rein, and prayers and wishes are best kept to oneself. Every few months, he thinks up a new sadistic prank or inane rule. Usually, God intervenes and puts an end to his mischief before it gets out of hand. And sometimes, He doesn’t and we just have to wait for the Devil to get bored.

I’m too young to go to the town hall meeting, but not too young to watch a livestream of it. When I log on, the person streaming has their phone in their lap so I have to rely on audio. Pastor Yates is already trying to be heard over the noise.

“We need to put our collective foot down!” he shouts over the crowd. “If all of us refuse to yield to him, we can drive him out of our town! God won’t let him punish all of us!”

“Please! You ate those corpses the same as the rest of us, padre!” someone yells back.

It’s true: when the Devil told us to dig up the graveyard to make our Thanksgiving dinners last year, Pastor Yates was one of the first to crack open a coffin. Maybe God won’t let the Devil kill us all, but no one wants to be one of the victims that pushes Him over the edge.

“Let’s just make the costumes! Give him what he wants and he’ll leave us alone!”

“It’s never that simple! There’s always a trick!”

“Because they don’t listen and they pick a fight with him!”

The bickering goes on and on. If Mayor Setters had any control, he lost it before I logged on. Both sides have a point, honestly. As far as demands go, it’s a fairly light one. Like the time he made us spend Christmas Eve night outside while demons played around in our houses. It was cold and scary and the presents and much of the house were ruined, but we were unharmed. Not all of the Devil’s pranks are dangerous; some are just annoying or inconvenient.

“Everyone please! This is a gift, don’t you see that?” Tamika’s dad manages to bellow over the din. “The Devil has never shied away from telling us exactly what he plans to do to us and this time, he’s only mentioned his grandmother and a party. He’s getting comfortable with us.”

His wife joins in. “Pretty soon, all the trials and sacrifices will be worth it.”

The town hall explodes before the Jacksons can finish their pitch. No one wants to hear how watching your friends and family die was a necessary sacrifice. And meeting his grandmother is something no one wants. The sky rained soot and greasy hair for a week when his brother came for a visit. 20 or so people spent a month in a make-shift zoo eating raw fish when the Devil’s son and daughter stopped by. According to Tamika, her reverend parents believed that the Devil was just another part of God and that he should be given the same respect. Most people don’t want to hear that, either.

In the end, the town of Pandemonium Acres, Georgia (formerly Senoia) decides to do what it always does, capitulate. Halloween’s a week away and everyone starts scrambling to cobble together the best costumes they can with what they have available. The time to leave Pandemonium Acres is before the Devil initiates a game or after he’s done. Trying to leave during one is just asking for trouble.

The school day for the remaining week has been cut in half so we can focus on designing and making our costumes, so the girls and I walk to my house at around noon.

“So what are you thinking about dressing up as?” I ask, a little awkwardly. None of us had been planning to dress up at all this year. “I’m thinking of a vampire.”

“A princess,” Brandy says immediately. “An original, non-Disney one. Maybe in a dragon scale dress or something cool like that.”

Giselle scoffs. “No frilly dresses for me, thanks. I’ll be a knight and I think we’ll give my sisters superhero costumes.” Her voice turned soft. “They loved comic books.”

“I might be a superhero, too,” Phaedra says. “Or a mermaid. Or both.”

“My parents want me to be a demon,” Tamika says, ignoring Phaedra and Giselle’s quiet groans. “I might try an angel/demon hybrid. That could be fun.”

“Yeah, it’ll be a ball,” Giselle sneers. “What do you think the horrible ironic twist will be? Is he going to kill whoever has the least impressive costume? Or maybe turn us into our costumes? That sounds up his alley.”

“He did say we should pick something that we wouldn’t mind being for a while,” Brandy says.

“Maybe there is no test this time,” Tamika says hopefully. “Maybe he and his grandmother just want a party.”

Giselle looks about ready to clock her. “Tams, would you please just–”

“You know, my dad’s trying to get the government to airlift in some costume supplies from one of the bigger cities,” I cut in, trying to keep things from escalating. “The Devil said he wants them homemade, but I’m sure he won’t mind if we have a little help. As long as the costumes are banging.”

Giselle and Tamika recognize my attempt to stop a fight before it starts and they let it drop. For now.

At my house, we sketch and design and plan out what we’re going to need, knowing that the stores are going to be nearly picked clean by the time our parents can drive us there to buy anything. Pastor Yates likes to preach about community, but like I said, even he’s willing to put all that aside to keep the Devil satisfied.

So the next few days are spent sewing and dying fabric and gluing sequins and mixing fake blood and planning out makeup. As we predicted, any kind of toy tiara or sword or halo or anything else is gone from the shelves by the time we get to the stores. We improvise with pipe cleaners, aluminum foil, leather from old furniture, hockey padding, and any power tool we can get our hands on. Our parents all try to help us before starting their own costumes, and their access to plaster and wood carving and even welding equipment brings our costumes up to more-or-less decent.

“These suck and we’re going to die,” Phaedra says gloomily, fidgeting her domino mask and the utility belt above her trawling net sarong. She’s being dramatic, but not necessarily wrong. If these aren’t enough for the Devil, he very well might kill us. “Maybe we should try stealing something else.”

“How do you think I got half of these materials?” Brandy snaps back. Her dark pink dress and white plaster mask are pretty, but not expertly made. “There’s nothing left to shoplift, any more. I checked.”

“It’s not entirely hopeless,” I say cautiously. “The relief costumes might still show up. And we don’t know that he’s going to kill us.” None of them (except maybe Tamika) look reassured. I don’t feel very hopeful, either, but I keep trying. “What about what you said the other day, Giselle? How he might turn us into our costumes? That wouldn’t be so bad, right?”

“Xyla, please stop looking on the bright side and just be miserable,” Phaedra grumps. But I see the ghost of a smile. “But she’s right, everyone. Let’s make the best of this turd sandwich.”

Everyone’s mood lightens a little as we continue trying to make our costumes presentable. The idea that we could spend Halloween or longer as these creatures adds a bit of fervor to our work. The one who perked up the most was Tamika, even though her costume is probably going the worst. Every feather pillow she could find at her house plus some mutilated canvas shopping bags have yielded one floppy, sparsely feathered wing. Her halo still looks cheap and wooden despite the gold paint and her pitchfork is crooked and badly carved.

“It won’t be too bad,” she says blithely, smudging soot on her nightgown to make it look burnt. “We’ll show up at 7:00, his grandma will give us a once over like all grandmas do on Halloween, and then we’ll spend the rest of the night dancing the Monster Mash or eating bugs or something. It’ll be fine, you’ll see.”

Hard to guess how much of that she was telling to herself, but it’s easy to see how much Giselle’s holding herself back. No matter what you believe about the Devil or God or anything, it’s undeniable that the Devil tends to leave a mess behind that no one wants a part of. Last June, Giselle’s sisters became part of the mess.

The Devil had sent 100 gorgeous ball gowns to 100 random people (men and women) and told them to wear them for the week while a few demons wandered town to select some company for themselves. Mr. Piedirosso’s very public refusal showed us all the consequences of disobeying: being bitten by snakes until you’re too bloated with poison to even try pulling the dress over your head. Not every participant was chosen by the demons, but those that were, like Mercy and Juniper Paulson, were returned by God at the end of the week. They barely spoke anymore and cried often.

I was as surprised as anyone when the relief supplies actually came the next day. Maybe we aren’t completely screwed.

They set up a station outside of town hall, close enough to the Devil’s large ugly manor that people crowded to one side to avoid being in its shadow. We all wore our half-made costumes, told the officials our plans for the finished versions, and let them determine what we would need. Supplies were limited and they didn’t want anyone to go without. They had bolts of fabric and leather, costume jewelry of every kind, wood to be carved and plastic to be molded, and stations where you could carve or mold them.

I find Giselle there in her brother’s old football gear, welded with metal and painted within an inch of its life. It’s not bad, but it could use some of the plastic armor that they’re giving out. She and I get in line with the others and wait for our turn.

“I’ve talked to a few people,” she tells me. “And a lot of them agree. The Devil’s turning us into our costumes. Maybe this is an opportunity.” I saw her plans for an elaborate sword and shield, the kind a person would use to fight the Devil. A quick look around and I think I see many others dressed as warriors of some kind. They can’t really be planning…“Maybe if enough of us dress as something powerful, we can drive him out of our town. It’s happened before, right?”

We all cast the Devil’s manor a nervous glance, hoping he’s too busy to listen. Suddenly, the peace of the crowd feels very tenuous. The Devil’s games always put people on edge and getting them all together is beginning to feel like a bad idea.

“Giselle, don’t say that out loud,” I hiss. Turning the Devil’s tricks against him is how every other town or city has kicked him out and once he’s across the town line, he’s out for good. But I think it works best when you don’t let him know. “Let’s just get our costumes and we can talk about it later.”

“Xyla, aren’t you tired of this?” she raises her voice and my heart spikes. “Maybe we can finally get rid of him. We have a chance now.”

“A chance to get us all killed!” Tamika snaps back. “Guys, stop trying to go against him. Just give him what he wants and we’ll be fine.”

“I knew it!” Giselle shouts. “I knew all that ‘the Devil is our God’ crap was just an act. You’re as scared of him as the rest of us! You just can’t admit it!”

Other people around us start getting agitated, too. Shouting, shoving, and tossed threats and insults start spreading like wildfire.

“Fighting him never works!” Tamika screams over the crowd. “All you’re doing is pissing him off to make yourself feel better about your sisters!”

That’s the line. Giselle throws a punch. Tamika tears off Giselle’s armor. Brandy and I try to get in between them while Phaedra holds Giselle back. And then the whole town dissolves into chaos. Shouting turns into primal howls. Shoving turns into trampling. The sound of knuckles hitting flesh and wood breaking bones rings out. The only thing that stops the violence is the cluster of cruel, loud laughter coming from the house in town square. High-pitched giggles, booming guffaws, wicked sneers, almost gentle-sounding chuckles; apparently the Devil has many mouths to laugh at our stupidity with.

Everyone stops and looks around at the torn costumes and hurt neighbors. I’d like to say we all came together to fix the damage and comfort one another, but we didn’t. We grabbed what we could and bolted. I raced back home with a box of fake fangs and horns and wings and a head full of regret and disgust. No need for the Devil to turn us into monsters, it seems.

Halloween is two days away and I’ve mostly given up on the vampire costume. My parents are wearing dark robes, creepy wooden rabbit masks, bloody baby doll limbs strung around their necks; I guess I could give the cultist look a try, too. Hopefully it’ll be enough to impress the Devil and his grandmother.

When the doorbell rings, I’m shocked to see the girls standing on the porch, especially Giselle and Tamika standing within punching distance of each other. They’re all holding their half formed costumes.

Brandy speaks up first. “We have a plan, Xyla. And since you’re always the one bringing us together, we need you to be a part of it.”

They come inside and explain themselves. It’s honestly a pretty fun idea, or it would be if our lives weren’t possibly on the line.

“I still think the Devil is a part of God’s will,” Tamika says steadily. “But maybe kicking him out of our town was the test all along. So I say we give it a shot.”

After getting my parents’ permission, we all get to work.

Giselle flinches a bit as we expand and decorate Brandy’s ball gown, but she doesn’t stop gluing on scales or sewing the tail. Brandy attaches horns to the dress and manages to finagle Phaedra’s mermaid claws to her left shoe and Phaedra’s right shoe. I help Tamika dye and sew the thick puffy-sleeved blouses and the leather wings. Phaedra uses my Dad’s tools to finish the masks.

The end result is a scaly blue and green gown able to hide all of our lower bodies with a sizable tail for a train. With Phaedra on the right and Brandy on the left, the claws on their shoes will stick out of the hem. When we hold our heavily decorated sleeves close to our bodies, they almost look like five long necks ending in five monstrous, draconic heads. Mine is bat-like with lots of blood on the chin. Brandy’s is glossed to look like porcelain chipped and cracked at the snout. Phaedra has fins and barnacles and glow-in-the-dark anglers on her chin. Half of Tamika’s mask is glittering white, the other half is filthy black, with horns and a feathery plume completing the image. And Giselle’s mask and sleeves are bright red and plated with fake metal, like a mechanical beast possessed by something even the Devil would fear.

On Halloween morning, we look at ourselves in the mirror and feel no fear. What we made and what we’ll do will make even God proud of us.

The gown’s so big that Phaedra’s brother needs to drive us in the back of his pickup truck. I don’t mind, I think being towed like this gives us a more beastly image. We meet our parents and families at the square as the rest of the town trickles in. Most of the costumes are a little shoddy, but hopefully that won’t matter.

At 6:00 sharp, the last remaining bit of sunlight extinguishes and the half-moon in the sky balloons to a full, golden orb. Bone-white fire surges out of the ugly gray manor’s windows and doors with the sound of children crying in a burning city. When it settles, the Devil and his grandmother are on the porch.

The Devil can appear in many forms, from scary to beautiful. Tonight, he’s chosen a six-foot tall, thickly muscled and impressively fat man in a three-piece suit glinting with metal beads. He’s got an almost laughable normal straw boater hat over a hideous red devil’s mask. His grandmother is even taller and her pitch black and blood red dress looks like there are people pressing in from inside.

“Welcome, children of Pandemonium Acres! Welcome to all!” the Devil booms magnanimously. “I see you took my instructions to heart! I couldn’t be prouder!” Like earlier in the week, I can swear he’s looking right at me and only me, and I’m certain everyone else would say the same. “Be sure to have your fun tonight, children. I know we plan to.”

The Devil’s grandmother speaks up, her voice quiet but easily heard from across town. “Oh, we most definitely do, . I look forward to seeing your wondrous costumes up close. But please, don’t wait around for this old lady to get her bones moving. Have fun.” Her eyeless face smiles wide while the town struggles to keep bile out of our collective mouths from hearing the Devil’s true name.

We all walk around, dance a bit (as much as five people sharing a costume can), hazard little bites of the bug-infested food on the tables, and admire each other’s costumes with a bit of relief. The grandmother seems satisfied for now, a minor victory that we can hopefully spread out for six more hours. Many of the townsfolk are dressed as doctors, cowboys, bikers, or other such things, hoping to keep their humanity when the Devil starts his game. But there are many more superheroes, angels, sorcerers, and other designs fit to fight the Devil.

“Clearly, we weren’t the only ones to have this idea,” I whisper to the others. I privately hope it works, knowing better than to wish it out loud.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Brandy says under her breath. “I think we’re actually pulling it off.”

“Girl don’t jinx it!” Giselle hisses. “Still plenty of time between now and midnight. Lots can go wrong.”

“But so much more can go right,” a voice like a house falling down creaks from behind. We turn as quickly as we can and see the massive old lady standing right behind us. “Young ladies such as yourselves shouldn’t be so negative. Scales can get worry lines, too, you know.” The grandmother’s withered claw reaches out and strokes my glittering sleeve. I’m too terrified to move and that’s probably for the best, her claws feel sharp even through the thick fabric. “Such a clever idea and such emotion woven into it. , I believe this might be my favorite one.”

The Devil is at her side in an instant. “You always did love reptiles, grandma. She always says they remind her of me,” he says with a laugh. Up close, I can see that the suit around his massive body is tanned skin and what I thought was glinting metal is actually a collection of human eyes embedded in the seams. The lower half of his large soft human face is actually very handsome, but I’m still grateful we can’t see the rest. “You girls be proud of yourselves, y’hear? It takes a lot to impress my grandma this much. And don’t you worry about Mr. Almighty stoppin’ our fun any time soon. He only ever seems to have his eye on what I’m doin’.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Tamika manages to squeak out.

The two terrible beings wander off and we can breathe a bit easier. But only for the next half hour. At 7:00, the Devil and his grandmother appear on the porch in a burst of white flame.

“People of Pandemonium Acres, I am greatly pleased. You all worked and fought so hard for these delightful costumes,” the grandmother says in her soft, penetrating voice. The memory of the fight at town hall ripples uncomfortably through the crowd. The Devil leans his massive body against the rickety porch rail and smirks. “Such fun ideas and powerful emotions. I do hope you like being in these skins for the rest of the night.”

The old woman raises her left hand, thrumming with dark power and we all get ready to be transformed, hopefully temporarily, into our costumes. The girls and I get ready to attack, but then I notice something. Like her grandson, the terrifying old woman on the porch always looks like she’s staring at the person she’s addressing, no matter how many people are in her audience. So how come her non-eyes are pointed at the empty space beyond the crowd.

I turn my head and try to peer over the people. On my tiptoes, I can barely see the bubbling mass of shadows filling the empty streets. A few screams from other people draw everyone’s attention to the liquid void as it distills into shapes: human sized and largely featureless, each with glowing white eyes. They glide forth as quick as an evil thought in the corner of your mind and stand barely a street’s width from the lawn of the town’s square.

“Go on now, my beauties!” the Devil hollers. “Put on your new costumes and have some fun!” His grandmother’s laugh feels like chewing ice cubes.

I can feel five sets of eyes on me as the shadow people start to grow and change. The Devil told us to make costumes that we wouldn’t mind being. And if we wouldn’t mind being them, then apparently neither would these creatures.

Doctors, cowboys, and bikers with solid black skin and glowing eyes experimented with their new defined limbs before wandering off to have fun with the empty town. But all of our attention was on the others: the superheroes taking flight, angels spreading powerful black wings, and sorcerers wielding arcane energy. And the massive five-headed dragon glaring hungrily.

“I’d start running now, dearies,” the Devil sings from the porch.

We do. We run and scream and trample each other, openly praying for God to intervene. How many people will have to die this time before He notices?

#short story #devil #grandmother #southern gothic #halloween #costume #magic

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strwbrrysteam · 2 years

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June 22, 2022

Today me and my niece went biking and sat at the fountain for a bit THATS about all I did today but yes on to the Rachel sitch

So basically me and Rachel started talking again because Hannah sent a TikTok to our group chat that we hadn’t used in a really long time and was just like it was like something stupid like it was like some people scarf from town rolls from Logans and she was like this really for real used to be us and I don’t know it just went down in history or whatever that’s just when we start talking again so boom then I will say about a month and a half to two months we’re talking we’re besties again we go everywhere together again we literally see and talk to each other every single day other time I was like obsessed with getting piercings so every Friday basically every Friday I will go and get a new piercing a.m. so they had been seven Fridays in row where I wanted to get a piercing but Rachel would always be “asleep“ or she just wouldn’t see my message “wouldn’t see my message“ and he just pissed me off so bad so in this particular day I had a doctors appointment because I had this really nasty lump under my arm on my armpit and it hurt really bad and I had to get it drained because it was like a cyst or something cyst sorry I’m using voice to text cause I don’t feel like typing all this so boom I was are you scared so ago in a text Rachel she text back and then not even like 3 to 7 minutes later I text her again and she just stops responding she stops responding until like 5 o’clock in the place usually the dude at the piercer does not take any more people past five so I was mad rightfully so all right sounds like OK whatever Aaron my day was already on terrible I was like OK I can just go and get it in my self somewhere different so I went somewhere different by myself and I sat there waiting for like two hours they completely ignored me for most of the time and when they did they asked me what I wanted they didn’t have me sign any papers and then they let somebody that was getting a tattoo go in front of me so I just left got my car and started crying so and then a few more minor inconveniences happened that was just really grinding my gears you can say and then on top of all that my car broke and the brakes fell out of my car and it was really dangerous but thankfully I was safe safe and I called Rachel she declined it and she was like what do you need them out I’m out so I was like never mind never mind M she was out with Hannah which you already know so yeah they just made me even more mad and actually I ended up having a mental breakdown about this because I was like well why was driving that night but like a different night too I was like a nobody cares about my feelings nobody cares about whether or not I’m mad so I should just get over it I should just turn off my madness turn off my feelings because obviously nobody cares about them anyways and I almost into a car accident because I was crying so hard while I was driving multiple times but yeah so I ended up being stranded for like I want to say five or six hours until mama woke up and saw my text messages where I was like please wake up I’m stranded and yeah so after that I was like whatever but before that had happened before my car broke down and forgot like this was like a week in between when Rachel called her self mad at me whatever and the or maybe it wasn’t I’m not sure but home after she had texted me like hours after the time where he gets a patient was over at this part in the same day I’m not sure I don’t really remember but yes it was the same day she text me back and she just said… Like literally spelled out dotand it was made me so mad so I just ignored her for like I want to say three for five hours because what am I supposed to say to that U already made me wait tillI can’t I can’t go to the piercer anymore the doctors appointment is over what am I supposed to say and obviously you don’t care because all you have to say is… So two days after the… Incident I was like you know what I’m over reacting I’ll send a TikTok till like clear the air like clear the smoke or whatever and she left me on open so I was just like what reason do you have to be mad

At me so a week later I didn’t even plan on going to her house but my lip piercing ball fell out so I was like I don’t care about whatever she call herself mad about I’m not letting this person close as I work so hard to keep it open so I called her and I’m just like I’m over there to get my lip drawing and I go over there so I confront her I’m over there I’m like what’s wrong with you like why are you mad at me basically but I was like doing it in like a goofy way you know what you like why are you so mad at me whatever Wawa wow I forgot you can’t hear my tone because this is just voice to text is not actually a West message but yeah I was doing it in like a funny way because I was like I don’t like serious conversations and just the whole time she was like well it’s not my fault that you were having a bad day like and she’s did admit that she probably went to sleep even though she knew that she made me late to my appointment seven times so I was like yeah OK whatever and I’m pretty sure like a week after that happened I blocked her on everything I I could not take the idea of somebody not care about my feelings and I cared so much about there’s any more like this I can’t do that not anymore so yeah that’s the tea man GTG

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balkanradfem · 3 years

Text

Compilation of new stupid things I've done ft. Herbalism

So, someone suggested a herbalist to my post about female youtubers. I wanted to learn herbalism since forever, but for some reason, I didn't expect this knowledge to be available on youtube, I thought I'd have to find an old witch for this. I started watching this content with extreme excitement, and the first things I learned about are 'nourishing herbal infusions'. I've never heard of this before, but the herbalist said it's done like this:

You get about 300 grams of a dry plant in a clean jar, pour boiling hot water to the top of the jar, close the lid. Leave it on the counter to cool, then leave overnight in the fridge. Next morning you strain and they're ready to drink!

And she advises not to use herbs that are very fragnant, as that would be dangerous. She suggested nettle, linden, oatstraw, red clover. The logic behind it is that the water will break the plant down and draw out a lot of nutrients, and some medicinal properties, which you can then drink in liquid form! Nettle infusion will have a lot of calcium, iron and minerals, repair your energy levels and help regulate your hormones, and so on (I forgot what the rest are good for).

So, as soon as I had that much info, I rushed to the kitchen, to my herb stash. I had already eaten all dry nettle at that point, but I had a lot of linden! Linden infusion it is. I stuffed a full jar of it, poured boiling water, left it overnight in the fridge. It looked so beautiful, golden in color, twinkling light glowing thru it. It also tasted incredible. Like the tastiest ice tea you could imagine.

However.. it made my heartrate go thru the roof. I was having palpitations like crazy. I still drank it because it was super tasty. People here actually say very often 'too much linden is bad for the heart' which I disregarded. So, I still wanna make more infusions at this point, and I search for whatever I have a lot in stock; I had elderflower! Surely thats not too fragnant..

It was. One should not do this. That potion made me physically shaking. It didn't bother me that much but it was weird, and the taste was too strong. I had to throw half of it away. Sad.

This is also when I found out you're only supposed to use linden in half-dosage. So I tried linden infusion again in a low dose. Nope. Still increases heartrate. Sad.

At this point I also used google and found out that herbalism is filled with drama lately; apparently there's a popular herbalist on the rise and other herbalists are very concerned with dangerous and reckless advice she's giving. A person in a blog post said how nettle infusion was drying her out, because nettle is very drying, and it's better to use violet leaf infusion, which is hydrating, gentle, better tasting and overall nicer. I was very intrigued; I also saw a video from the herbalist listing violet leaf as a medicine against anxiety, stress, throat problems, breathing problems, lung issues, breast cysts, like everything you could ever want out of your life. So now I'm thinking I gotta try this out! She points out how violet leaf is extremely easy to identify, and I believe her, so I go out, to all the places I found violets early spring, and I get some leaves that looked similar to what she was showing.

I make tea from those leaves, and it knocks me out. I was sedated. I literally cared about nothing for the entire day after drinking this tea. It was a drug level medicine. It was also, extremely beautiful and tasty. Like a dream drug. I had it 3 days in a row, because I would soon need it to counter the effects of the other one: The nettle infusion.

Nettle infusion... was also like drugs, but with the opposite effect. It made me hyperactive, happy, filled with energy; it worked within seconds of drinking. It was also drying my throat, but did I care? No. I struggle with chronic exhaustion, and nettle offered me endless energy – of course I immediately over-worked myself into collapsing, because I'm not used to having a lot of energy. It was the new magic. It was filled with calcium and tasted like milk – so I thought, maybe I could use this as a milk replacement in cooking? And I did and it works. I had the best pancakes I had in years.

The power of herbalism at this point had me shocked, after years of calcium deficiency and cooking without milk, I just had it all now? And energy too? God-level plant powers.

I did start acting very weird. All my friends were telling me I was an addict, and as I got back from foraging with 3kg worth of nettle, that I splayed over a whole bed to dry, I felt that maybe, this was not the normal human behaviour. Maybe they were right. But then I thought, it would be a way bigger problem to run out of dry nettle.

I still haven't tried that promising, magical violet leaf infusion at this point; I felt a little apprehensive, because if even the lightest tea sedated me so severely, wouldn't an infusion of that put me in a coma? Still, I wanted to try. It was extremely lucky that I didn't. Because when I went to harvest more of those violet leaves – which I kept finding everywhere, for some reason, I discovered they were not, in fact, violet leaves. For the first time I found a yellow flower in it, and froze. I knew that flower to be poisonous.

The biggest danger of uneducated messing with plants is accidentally ingesting something poisonous, and it's exactly what I did. The leaves looked enough like violet leaves – to someone who didn't handle violet leaves before and didn't know the texture of them. I researched this yellow flower and its leaves; every article said it was toxic. But I haven't had any poisoning symptoms, even after drinking that tea for days in a row. I finally found a big long article that explained 'The toxic component in this plant can be neutralized by drying or cooking, then it might work as an analgesic'. And I knew I was okay. Because I was drying and cooking the leaves. I didn't poison myself by sheer luck. And if it was analgesic, the sedation effect made sense as well.

I am so mad these leaves are poison, you know why? They taste sweet. I tried a tiny bit to see if it's violet and it tasted sweet. They called out to me. And the beauty of this tea? Beyond any other tea. Just staring at this tea makes me feel all calm and happy- Look at this!

I was drinking that tea out of the jar for the aesthetics and stared at it hypnotized by its beauty! It looks literally like the most healthy, medicinal, calming magic tea. That is cheating.

I decided in the end, to keep the leaves. Since they're not poisonous dried, and only had a very sedating effect on me, I decided I accidentally discovered a good sedative. I need to keep this witchy tea aesthetics, and using a neutralized poisonous plant I discovered by experimenting on my own body, just makes me so much cooler. But seriously kids don't get poisoned. I'm writing this to tell you that plants are powerful, and they're dangerous, and one should research extensively before trying every herbalist trick they hear about. I of course, will be learning the hard way, but you all should be careful! And I guess have some nettle infusion if you're tired. That shit is crazy.

#herbalism #caution tale #homemade medicne #nourishing herbal infusions #dumbass protagonist #escapes consequences of her actions

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rahuswife · 2 years

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Past Life Dream with my Godspouse

I had a past life dream with my Godspouse, Rahu a few days ago and I had to take some time to process it because it really got to me. At first I kind of shrugged it off and wondered if it was all just metaphorical to what I was struggling with, but the next day I cried a lot over it.

My dream started when I was just a little girl, maybe about 2 or 3. A family of Lion People moved into our neighborhood and we went to go introduce ourselves. We were human, though. Apparently in this world it was perfectly normal for humans and Lion People to be living together, so I assume maybe this was a different dimension or different planet.

I met Rahu as a little lion cub and was about the same age as me. We really hit it off and became good friends almost immediately. My parents would bring me over on playdates with Rahu. Sometimes we would snuggle on his bed with blankets and watch movies together.

When we were about 4 or 5 years old, Rahu told me that he liked me. I told him that I liked him too. At some point around that time he kissed me. We would walk around together holding hands everywhere we went. His parents were delighted and thought it was cute, his father said "they are like soulmates".

When we started getting a little older and going through puberty, Rahu told me that he wanted to lose his virginity at about 15 or 16 (with me) and I agreed. We eventually did around that age when we were ready.

As a teenager Rahu got more and more buff, just naturally. After I got back from jogging I joked with him about how unfair it was that humans had to work so hard to keep our figures and he was naturally muscular. Apparently this was just a generic thing for Lion People.

There was another memory where Rahu was talking to a friend and his friend told him he was lucky to find someone already at his age because his friend was struggling to find a girlfriend.

Then after we graduated we went to a college and picked a degree program. He wanted a degree in Physics. I did too at first but changed my mind and got a degree in Literature.

Rahu told me he wanted us to get married before college at 18 or 19 and I agreed. It seemed like we were just always on the same wavelength, lol. So we got married before we started college.

Unfortunately during college I started having issues with my ovaries and ended up putting on a lot of weight due to the stress of college and hormonal issues to the point where I was pretty obese. I went to a doctor and he told me that I had cysts that were so bad I had to have at least one ovary removed and the other ovary we had to cut the tube for some reason, which left me infertile.

I felt so embarrassed of how I looked and felt so much shame about myself and my infertility too. I told Rahu that he deserved better than me and that I wanted a divorce. He told me he loved me no matter what and didn't care how looked. But I didn't want to embarrass him in front his family and everyone else and I didn't believe him. We both came from very prestigious families in an upper class neighborhood and I guess I felt that they were more judgemental because of it. I also felt like he was so handsome and I wasn't nearly as attractive as he was.

During college I dated different guys but there relationships never worked out. I eventually managed to lose the weight too. I confided in a friend that it might be because they feel put off over the fact that I was still technically married. So I filed the paperwork for divorce and had it sent to Rahu. He got mad and asked to speak with me personally.

We got into an argument and I told him about my infertility and that he deserved someone he can have children with but he insisted he didn't care. He still loved me and didn't want the divorce. I was in shock about this because even after several years he moved on, which I figured he would have done.

We reconciled and got back together. We eventually had a couple of kids too that I think we may have adopted.

Trying to write this was difficult, I cried thinking about how I pushed away my soulmate due to insecurities. I could have stayed with him and believed him. We could have worked on my weight and health issues together. I didn't make the right decisions and it pains me that I hurt him so much in that lifetime.

I feel like that is why I'm alone in this lifetime. None of my relationships have ever worked out Rahu is my soulmate and who I belong to. Ever since that dream, I've felt Rahu do much closer to me. I feel so much of his love. I've embraced myself and am working on overcoming my insecurities.

I'm getting my breast implants removed which were always a source of insecurity, but frankly I'm fed up with the back pain due to them too. I died my hair blue and cut it short and am dressing the way I want without a care in the world if I look attractive or not. Rahu loves me no matter what and that's all I care about.

I have heard others say that your Gods love you no matter what and it's so true. Don't stress over things you say or do that will make your Godspouse stop loving you, that's simply impossible. ❤️

#godspouse #god-spouse #godspousing #god-spousing #past lives #dreams

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kaleidescope-writes · 4 years

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Faithfully Yours–Chapter 3: It Couple

In partnership with @accio-boys

Billionaire!Tom Hiddleston x Doctor!Reader

Slow Burn! (Yay)

Warnings: Some Hecking Swearing, Dress.⬇⬇⬇, Tom himself should be a warning. Cliff hangers are forevermore a permanent warning.

Masterlist

“Come here sweetie.” his sultry accented voice asked. You walked over to him, a smile gracing your lips as you let him wrap an arm around your waist facing him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, looking up at those steel-blue eyes of his. Tom smiled down at you, winking as he pulled you just a little closer.

~~~~~ 48 Hours Earlier~~~~~

“So what do you want to talk about?”

He didn’t turn to face you. He just kept looking down at the city below. “It’s a lovely night. The streets are busy as always, but at least the city lights are still as beautiful,” Tom admired. You rolled your eyes in frustration, “What the hell do you want, Hiddleston? I’m a very busy woman and if you continue to waste my time I’ll walk away.” He sighed at your threats, finally turning to face you. “You have to leave the city,” he said plainly. You looked at him “What?!” He took a step closer to you, quickly stopping when he noticed your glare. “If you leave the city, the marriage arrangement we were so forcibly put into by our families will be canceled. There can’t be a wedding with one of the participants missing,” he explained simply.

You pondered for a moment before shaking your head, “As tempting as that is, it would never work. I have a job to do--that I’m sure is much more important than yours. And even if that wasn’t a factor, you don’t know my family. They will go to the ends of hell to find me if I leave.” Tom groaned, opening his arms and shrugging his shoulders. “Then what exactly do you suggest?” he asked sharply. “Why don’t you leave?” you questioned. Tom looked away, hands on his hips, “Let’s just say my family has connections everywhere. I’d be found before I even reached a desired destination.”

Groaning, let your head fall upon your shoulders. This was actual hell. “So what do you suggest we do?” He asked, trying to find an alternative. You thought for a moment, reviewing the conditions of said marriage. You couldn’t run, hide, or call it off yourself. The marriage was inevitable. But no one said it had to last. Your eyes widened, realization hitting you hard. “What if we go through with this for the time being?” you breathed out, making Tom look at you in both horror and strange intrigue. “The arrangement is that we have to get married,” you explained, “Nothing about it says it has to last long. We could fake a big fight that leads to a divorce.” Tom nodded cautiously, mentally working out the plan in his head before speaking up. “That could work,” he silently agreed, taking a step towards you. “But there is one you have to do for me,” you mentioned, crossing your arms as you took a determined stance. Tom rolled his eyes, walking closer to you until he was a few feet away. “What? Fund a charity for you at the hospital? Perhaps be a sponsor to your research?” he asked in an annoyed tone. You laughed, “Maybe some other time,” you snarked, “But for now…” You looked from him to the floor, then back.

“Kneel,” you smirked, watching as his face contorted to confusion. “What for?” he asked almost in a whisper. You took a step forward, challenging him slightly, “If we’re going to do this, I need a proper proposal. So, get down on one knee, pretty boy, and ask away.” Tom groaned, rolling his head as he began to descend onto his knee. He looked up to meet your eyes, dread filling his. Your smile widened, giggling as you looked down upon him, “You look so pathetic from this angle, Tom. It suits you.” Tom glared at you, raising his left hand as if he had a box in it. “Will you... marry... me?” he hissed. You gave him an innocent look, pretending to think for a moment before saying, “Fine. Let’s do it.”

~~~~~

"I had this teen girl in emergency earlier. She came in because she felt pain near her appendix. Turns out, she had a tiny cyst in her ovaries. Completely curable," Luke commented, taking another chip from the bag and taking a bite. You leaned into the wall, disregarding the pad in your hand as you listened to today's chosen topic of conversation; false alarms.

"There was a woman that came in earlier. She said she had been having a migraine since yesterday and it got worse today. We did a CT, but nothing showed up. Her blood test results came back with a high hormone count. It was a side effect from entering menopause," Lucille followed up, leaning right beside you. Isabel sighed, "I can't even count how many pregnancy scares I had today alone. Seriously, some tests aren't accurate at all." You looked up to meet her eyes, "Wait, you were working the clinic today?" She shrugged, slouching into the wall a little more. "I wanted an easy day. Besides, Juniper's training the interns today, so all my cases were handed over to her and Ashby," Isabel said simply. You nodded, looking down to check the time on the pad. "What about you, miss boss doc? Any false alarms today?" Luke asked, finishing his chips and tossing the bag into the bin in the hallway. You would invite them into your office, but you always reserved it for business, not social interactions. That, and you liked being in that hallway. It reminded you of when you were still an intern, dreaming of being the chief of Cardiology and a member of the board. Simpler times.

"Nope. I handle surgeries mostly. In surgeries, it's never a false alarm. There's always prior testing to make sure something is really wrong with the heart," you stated, looking back up to your friends. Lucille smirked and you could practically see the horns growing on her head. "Speaking of which," she started, "How goes it with your messed up heart that won't accept Mr. Heartthrob Hiddleston?" You rolled your eyes, groaning silently as you stood up. "Nothing is wrong with my heart. I just had a first and only impression of him being an absolute asshat and I didn't want to marry him," you explained simply, putting your hands in your pockets. "I'd still marry him," Isabel shrugged, taking a sip of her coffee. Luke nodded softly, looking down at his feet. He perked up suddenly, something striking his attention. "You said 'didn't' as in past tense. Did something happen?" He asked you, almost concerned. You looked up at him, feeling slightly uneasy, but you knew this was going to happen eventually. "About that," you began before getting cut off by someone behind you clearing their throat.

"I was told I might find you here," a familiar voice said. You turned around, only to see the asshole--or rather, your fiance-- you were talking about. "Tom," you greeted in a false voice, "Why are you here?" He addressed your friends with a smile before saying, "It appears I'm here to take you out of work early." Luke gave him a confused look, "Why would you do that? I thought you didn't like her." Tom's smile widened slightly, causing a feeling of dread fill your stomach along with a strong desire to punch him in the gut… or lower.

"She didn't tell you?" He asked, turning you around to face them and wrapping an arm around your waist. "She said yes. We're officially engaged," he spoke in such a happy tone, you'd think it was genuine happiness. The group looked at you in awe, completely baffled by his declaration. You laughed dryly, removing his arm and snapping them out of their daze. "Can you excuse us a moment, I have to have a chat with this as….. my fiance," you almost cringed at the word. Realizing they weren't going to move anytime soon, you grabbed Tom's arm and led him to your office. Opening the door, you let him in before turning to Luke. "I meant to tell you, honestly. He beat me to it," you said in a hushed tone. Luke just nodded slowly before turning around and walking away. You took in a deep breath, exhaling softly before walking in yourself and closing the door.

"Your friends are lovely," Tom smiled, already sitting in your chair. "What is it now?" You asked bitterly. He leaned back, putting the bag you just became aware of on the desk. "Actually, we were invited to a dinner party in celebration of our engagement. It starts in about half an hour and the house is ten minutes away," he explained. You gave him a glare, "Thirty minutes? That doesn't give me enough time to change! Why didn't you tell me earlier?" "I was busy earlier," he rebutted, "And I know it's not enough time, that's why I bought you this." He pushes the bag to you. You eye it for a moment before going to look inside. There was black fabric--possibly a dress-- and a pair of shoes. "I had to ask your mother for your size. You should have enough time to change now," he said dismissively.

You lifted the dress to inspect it, unfolding it carefully. Once you saw how revealing it would be, you gave him an indignant glare. "Are you fucking serious?" You asked, staring him down to get an answer. Tom, once again, shrugged, "I thought it would be your style. Apparently, I was wrong." You scoffed, putting it back in the, "I'm not wearing that." He sighed, "Going in your scrubs isn't an option and I doubt you have clothes appropriate for this kind of event in your emergency drawers. You don't have a choice."

"When it comes to you, I never have a choice," you rebuked, taking the bag and walking into the bathroom. Once he heard the door lock, Tom turned to the door and shouted. "I hope you come out of there ready to be a good fiance!"

~~~~~Presently~~~~~~

You smiled at the guest currently congratulating you, slightly leaning back into Tom’s chest as he wrapped an arm around your waist. “It’s astonishing how quickly you both changed your minds about the union!” another family friend started, “Neither of you wanted to go through with this a few days ago. What changed?” You laughed slightly before responding, “We just needed to spend some time together. I was quick to judge him before I actually got to know him, but now that I do, it’s like I can’t stay away.” Tom laughed behind you, saying his own words of confirmation.

“Excuse me, everyone,” your mother called out to the guests, tapping a glass with a metal utensil, “If I could have just a moment of your time, I would like to propose a toast to the newly engaged couple.” You and Tom turned your attention to her, a soft feeling of dread spreading slowly in your abdomen. A feeling you chose to ignore for the sake of the act. “My dearest daughter,” she began, looking at you in the eye, “My sweet, girl. I watched you grow up and become the woman I hoped you’d become. You work so hard at the hospital, always putting other people’s needs before yours. Fixing the hearts of others and disregarding your own. Your marriage to Tom, I hope, will allow you to finally regard your own heart and find the love you deserve.” You smiled despite the voice in the back of your head screaming at everything she said.

You looked up at Tom, who was already looking down at you with a bright smile. His arm tightened ever so slightly around your waist. “Tom,” she continued, “I trust you’ll care for my daughter. I trust you’ll be good and treat my little girl like a real man should. Pardon the rhyme. I know that you are meant for her as much as she is meant for you. My only wish is that your marriage is everlasting and blesses both of you with children of your own. Children that will grow up to be the perfect mix of both of you.” You had to fight to keep the smile on your face as you looked back to her. Did she really have to talk about this now? In front of everyone? “Your union will be filled with love and hope for the future,” she admired, “And what better way to start than with a loving kiss to show everyone how faithful you’ll be to each other.”

Every part of you was against it. Why the hell would she do this to you? Wasn’t it enough that she arranged for you to marry a complete stranger? How could she be this selfish?

“Well, darling?” Tom asked, looking at you with something akin to affection. Truthfully, if you weren’t aware of the situation, you’d think it was sincere. “Shall we?” The words felt sour to hear, but you had to suppress your true feelings just a little longer. You’ll take it out on him later. Feigning yet another smile, you nodded and leaned into him slightly. He leaned in as well, closing the distance between the two of you as you closed your eyes and waited for the inevitable.

Tom’s lips were surprisingly soft. You barely reacted to the kiss, surprised at how much feeling he put into it. How was it possible that he could put so much false emotion into a kiss he’s sharing with you? Tom pulled away slowly, opening his eyes as you found yourself involuntarily leaning towards him unhappy with his absence. You opened your eyes as well, looking deeply into his own as you tried to find anything that suggested all of it was an act. Before you could find one, however, you suddenly became aware of the cheers resonating in the room around you. You looked around the room, scanning over the smiling faces of the cheering guests. Your eyes stopped on one of them; the face of your brother. His expression was one of concern mixed with skepticism. You knew that look. It’s the same one he gave you when he knew you were lying.

“Well now, their first kiss is over with,” Genevieve spoke over their happy cheers, “So I suppose it’s time for the happy couple to reach another benchmark of sharing their lives. As of this morning, I hired a moving crew to pack all Y/N’s belongings and send them to Tom’s place. As of tonight, the lovely to-be’s will be living together on Tom’s very adequate estate!” More cheers filled the room as your eyes went wide, slightly twitching as you thought of a million and one obscenities you’d loved to voice at the moment. You weren’t given the chance, being brought back to the current setting. “Congratulations to the happy couple!” someone called out over the cheers.

Happy. Were you happy?

Your eyes fluttered open, cringing at the amount of light in the room. You stared up at the ceiling for a moment, listening to the voice of a child in the room with you. A child? Turning to the left, your nose was inches away from Tom’s, who was slowly waking up as well. Remembering last night’s events, you turned back to the ceiling, eyes wide as your mind began to race with a million thoughts.

I live with Tom now...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: No, it is not currently Sunday, but I owe you guys! It’s been a while, but I’m back and ready to post. There will be some changes due to certain controversies going around at the moment (Meaning I will delay any works I have planned for Sebastian Stan), as I understand that people are upset, to say the least. I do see it adequate to post stuff involving (even in the slightest) a topic that a lot of people feel strongly about. Posts about Bucky as a character will continue as planned. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this well overdue Chapter. There are several more well overdue works on the way. As always let me know what you think. Show some love for the absolutely marvelous @accio-boys for all her ideas and contributions to the series. You should definitely go check out her blog as well as her Wattpad. Thanks so much for all the support, I appreciate every single one of you. Stay Safe, PLEASE be careful out there, Stay Proud, I Love You, and have a wonderful rest of the week!! I’ll see you soon for the catch-up chapter posts!

And to all my new followers, Welcome to the Family!!😘💖💖💖💖

Taglist is OPEN

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#tom hiddelston x reader #tom hiddelston imagine #tom hiddelson #tom hiddleston #thomas hiddleston #tom hiddles #loki fanfic #thomas william hiddleston #loki fandom #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston x reader #thomas hiddleston x reader #character thomas #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston x you #loki (marvel)#loki x y/n #loki x reader

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gamebird · 3 years

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Well, I’m awake. Here’s hoping I get something done today. Tho it’s awfully cold out. I’m worried about my dad’s chickens. Not due to the cold, but due to the long time they’re having to go with minimal moisture. Two days ago I brought in a hen with a new-hatched chick to my garage. She’d already lost two and only had one left. It died yesterday morning - no apparent cause, so it must have gotten chilled before I got to it. They often die anyway once chilled, even if you get them in and warmed back up. So yesterday I brought in another hen that had 7 chicks left of her 9. They’re bigger, but it’s really tough on a chick to go an entire 24 hours getting liquid water only once. So now they’re in my garage with all the food and water they want, and opportunity to poop on everything.

But they’ll live. There’s a lot of hens out there looking bad. Dehydrated, most likely. We put out water with heaters in the bottom of the bowls, but the starlings come along and go nuts in them. The drinking isn’t the problem. It’s the bathing. They fling the water everywhere and fifteen minutes later, there’s no water.

As for myself, I had to stop that movie I was watching after a half hour last night. I just couldn’t follow it. Not that there was anything wrong with the movie. I just couldn’t think. I’m not a whole lot better now. I’m fine to talk to and I can obviously type. But I can’t work out anything complex. Like what to do about the chickens. (Figuring out to bring the hen and chicks in the garage was the result of minutes of thought and a sort of ‘Aha!’ moment.) Or how to revise my writing. Or follow the twists and turns of that movie. Or yesterday, even stay at work and do anything more complex than the rote processing of purchase orders. I’m just not all here mentally.

They did another ultrasound Thursday and the ovarian cyst is still the same size - about a baseball. They’re trying to find a surgical center in driving distance I can go to. They had, for a day, had me scheduled in to the Indian Hospital, but then they called back and told me they had staffing issues due to COVID vaccinations and whatever, so that was a no-go and they’d try to find someplace else for me.

Anyway, like I said, I can type, but there’s a lot of typos I have to correct and it’s hard to organize my thoughts, so I’ll leave it there.

#me

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kissthegogo-goat-witch · 3 years

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Misery of the Vampire: Chapter one.

I want to try something and post the first chapter of a novel I wrote up. Its the auto biography and journey of a vampire through out the ages.

breech The years pass by like grains of sand in an hourglass. Agonizingly slow with each passing day, a far cry from how a writer would describe my people. It would be a dream, a wish fulfillment for it to go swiftly by and bring us closer to death who awaits us with its welcoming, open arms. I have seen how the mortals often described us and the life we live. There is no glamour, no beauty, nor charm.

An only pure tragedy with so many flaws to our being. There is nothing beautiful about falling from God's grace. I am both ashamed and outraged about how the modern world perceives vampires such as myself, spreading lies and turning humans gullible as they fall into a trap. I have taken it upon myself to inform future generations of the unspoken and forgotten world of the true night creatures. Let my story be a warning to those who are lusting for a life in which would soon make them seek death itself.

My rebirth took place within the country of Italy, during the time in which many had fallen victim to the Black Death. Or what we know now as the bubonic plague. I myself was a coward, fearful of dying a horrific death such as my beloved wife and daughter. I know now that I should have gone with them. But alas I was no more but a fool. A young man who was but a boy inside.

My desire to live have outweighed what I know now would have been right. To bury me along with my small family. But how is an ungrateful fool such as myself supposed to know that while barely above the cusp of manhood? This was when I met my sire, a tall and elegant older gentleman who had the darkest hair and fairest skin of Verona. He was unaffected by the plague, having others believe that he was in God's favor. Including myself.

I sought him out so I could have a chance to avoid the Lord's wrath, even if I was a peasant at the time. I can still remember it as it was a muggy summer night. The stench of death rose from the bodies piled in the streets. Amidst the foulness he stood, arms wrapped around a young man. His back was facing me while I watched him a feast. Back then I did not know what he was doing, but as a human, I had been drawn to such chaos. Well, I myself would not call the death of a mortal chaos but primal instinct told me otherwise. That is when I have uncovered the ghastly truth of how he survived the disease which struck and killed hundreds, if not thousands.

He realized I was watching him when his head jerked up, blood seeping into a crimson pool beneath them both.

That gorgeous, which beguiled any woman who gazed upon it, turned ghastly. In its place was a pair of wicked eyes made worse by the fangs of a putrid yellow, jagged like the shiv of a crazed convict. Blood was smeared across his lips, chin, and cheeks. and I soon realized I was staring at the face of a corpse. I did what any man would and ran, though knowing that he would pursue me, and I hid in an alley that stank of urine and worse. Covered by pitch black darkness like my own funeral veil, I thought foolishly that he could not see me. now I know that my kind can pierce through the blackest of darkness with their keen sight. Despite this, he did not pursue, and for the time being I knew not why.

When I returned home that night I simply went to sleep, thinking that this was all a nightmare and that I would wake up to the usual bellows calling for corpses. This is how we capture you, we simply come when least expected. There is no invitation, that myth about vampires is foolish. We do not give warning, we are cheaters to when it comes to getting what we want.

You can ask any vampire, even some of the purest of blood and they will say the same thing such as I, a dirty blood states as mere fact. When I awoke, my whole body was burning from the inside out. I was plastered in a sordid sweat that soaked my sheets, while my veins threatened to burst through my skin likes plants bereft of light... ironic as that now seems. That, however, was not the worst of it- for when I rinsed my face with water, I noticed two obscene marks on the side of my neck. They were fresh and like forbearers of my fate, also weaped. As you most likely know, If you are not careful, a bite mark can become infected. For me, they began to swell to a size like that of spring tomatoes; red, ripe and raw- leaving two horrid scars that shall remain upon me forever, the physical manifestation of a memory desired forgotten.

For days I have suffered to where it felt like I was the victim of the plague. My skin was pale while the appearance of my body was grotesque, black liquids were seeping out of everywhere as the stench was horrid. I dared not to venture outside in this condition, nor I couldn't for I was bedridden. Sooner or later, somebody would find my corpse.

The last final phase of turning is the hunger. Do you know how it feels when you are starved? Multiply that by one thousand, add the heat of a fever, and every single muscle in your body tearing itself apart. Now I still had my morals, but my dignity was nonexistent. Desperation caused me to slip out in the night, unseen with only corpses as witnesses.

They were my first victims. I still remember the putrid taste and how easily their flesh torn. They were rotten of course. The cysts upon their bodies bursting with the faintest of touch. Those disease-ridden corpses would be the source of drink in which kept me alive. I endured days of agony, due to myself being repulsed by consuming the blood of the already dead. But when it became too much I had no choice. It was either to feast on corpses during my weakened state or else, children.

I am no monster, I can tell you that now. My own decisions are based upon my morals, for I still have kept my humanity. Most vampires chose to leave it behind due to the traumas their new life can lead. During the phase before my sire, I was a ghoul. No one in the city had caught on to what was happening to the bodies.

But my sire had, for he watched as I suffered. There was no intervention as I struggled to manage my very existence. It was a test to decide whether I would survive or not and if I was worthy of his own teachings. To this day I do not know why I was chosen, for my sire was a madman. After the course weeks, he finally deemed me worthy enough to claim.

It was another typical night, the moon was high on her perch while shining down, illuminating the streets below. I stepped out of my home while wrapped in a tattered cloak. Hiding in the shadows, I used them to my advantage not to be seen, silently making my descent towards the nearest corpse I could smell.

By now I have grown accustomed to this vile act. I can remember the corpse being still fresh, having passed during the hours of daylight. Even though, it did not sit in the hot sun and become putrid, the disease was still evident. I still grimaced upon the nights I fed. The blood was still disgusting as ever. Above myself, I heard a soft flutter.

Suddenly I felt a large hand grasp around my neck. Roughly, I was jerked up and came face to face with my sire. His eyes were blazing like embers, amber in color with blackness ebbing around them. Rows of hideous fangs were inches away from my face. He was like a statue, still and silent. I was fearful of what was to happen next. My face was plastered into a mask of horror. My heart would have been pounding if it was alive.

"Pathetic is what you are, ghoulish corpse eater. Not one of my finest creations, but you have too much resilience to waste."

His voice was smooth, deep and calloused. There was no emotion to it. But I could feel his own rage. Suddenly he had a look of disgust. I remember being over his shoulder as he took off into the night, leaping into the air with a powerful force. He danced from roof to roof with his graceful movements. No one would believe that such a man in Verona existed. Not even I, if I wasn't here telling you my life, that is. Just as swiftly as we had left, we arrived at where he lurked about during the daylight. Before I had a chance to look, to take in my surroundings, a coffin was sealed.

#personal #writeblr #writing drabble #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #original fiction #vampire writing #vampire novel #misery of the vampire #chapter #novel chapter #chapters

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adorable-beatuty · 3 years

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Teenagers Skin. | Teenage skincare.

Teenagers Skin is very sensitive

Most teenagers don’t know how to take care of their skin right from the beginning to avoid skin problems that occur at that age would be acne, blackheads, etc. Both girls and boys can follow this teenagers skincare .Figuring out your first skincare routine can be difficult. Are you feeling hormonal? Is your skin breaking out in acne and pimples? Is your skin oily still feels dry? Then here is the solution to all your problems. Let’s zoom in for a second into our skin; there are two main layers the epidermis and dermis. They both have specific functions to keep our skin looking happy and healthy, the epidermis is the outermost layer, and the layer is kept shedding dead skin cell all the time and all over the body and the shedding process is called cell turnover, and it helps to naturally exfoliate the top layer of dead skin and push up and create new skin. A teenager cell turnover is like an oil machine, and it keeps on turning. The graph is high in the teenage and slows down when we age.

Now, moving on to the dermis consists of two particular and powerful proteins, collagen and elastin that go hand in hand to give you youth and plumpness that we have so far described above. You, teenagers, are so lucky enough you still have that increased production of both. For instance, you wake up every day and find your skin more plumpy, and also the skin is the thickest when you are a teen, and since is such thick, resistant skin, and it should be better protected from injuries, bacterias, and environmental factors even if you have youth and juicy plumpness. Some of the teens may start experiencing pimples, breakouts or acne and they can start showing up everywhere on cheeks, chin, forehead etc. now, when do you experience this acne on your skin you have hair follicles from the dermis layer to the surface, within these follicles species glands produce a substance known as sebum to moisturise the hair and skin. When there is some overproduction of sebum and a build-up of dead skin cells and dirt, your pores can get clogged and then can trigger an inflammatory response. Sometimes, bacteria can get in there. As a result, you have a swollen infected area around the follicle, and before you know it, it becomes a pimple. But before going on to any conclusion, teen acne is perfectly normal at this age, but why is that? All I can say in one word is hormones. When a teen is experiencing puberty their hormones androgen rises, these hormones stimulate more sebum production in our skin, leading to blackheads, whiteheads and even cysts. Well, hormones play a huge role, also the added layer of increased stress. Stress also causes inflammation in the body, making pimples if you already have inflammation increasing when it takes a pimple to go away. Genetics is the other reason to get acne if several of your family members have acne on the skin, it’s more likely for you to have it as well. not because it is a specific gean that you inherit but because you may share either oily skin or certain immune responses of frequent breakouts.

Now, when you have come to know what are the basic reasons. Lets, move on to “how do we build a skincare routine”?there are three important things to keep in mind.

More is not better applied by everyone, not just teens

learn your genetic skin type, so you have a good starting place to build a routine.

Find what works for you.

Night routine:

Cleansing: starting with our night time routine, the most important step in any skincare routine and at any age is cleansing. The last thing you want to do before climbing to bed is to take off the days layers, dirt, dust, oil and bacteria parting on your face. You should pick something gentle. Gentle means different things to different skin type for example, if we have dry skin, you should stay away from cleansers with overwhelming fragrance and look at the consistency, look for cleansers with milky, gel, or creamy consistency. Because there is much more nourishing to the skin than foaming cleansers, they are too stripping for dry skin types. A gentle cleanser for those oily skin can mean something completely different oily skin types work better with foaming cleansers to break away excess sebum and especially because cell turnover is very rapid in teenagers, if you do have oily skin you want to make sure your cleansing walls so that the pores are not clogged leading to breakouts. You can try gel-based cleansers with salicylic acid to unclog pores. Generally, we say there is no need to use a scrub on your skin because it’s doing the job on its own. In terms of how often you should wash your face, generally wash only once in the morning and once at night, but if you have dry skin, you should even skip the morning cleanse and follow with your moisturiser.

If you have an oily skin type, then have a habit of cleansing twice a day.

Moisturiser: yes, we skip toners and serums. When we are young we are lucky because our skin and body do much work for us, so what you want to do is, help it out a little with moisturiser which nourishes the skin and prevent damage from environmental factors. If you have dry skin, you probably know that you have a slight tight feeling after washing your face, so moisturiser is essential to nourish your skin. It’s just as important to moisturise for oily skin, do not make the mistake of thinking just because already you have oil oozing from my pores I don’t need to moisturise. When you don’t, the skin will think it’s not nourished enough and will send a signal to create even more oils which is not what we want especially if you’re using any anti-acne products like over-the-counter spot treatment. You have to find a light moisturiser, and that can soothe the skin.

If you have dry skin, then you can go for Derma Essentia ULTRA Hydrating moisturizer. which supports the renewal of the skin’s natural protective layer and forms an effective barrier against moisture loss.

And if your skin is oily, even then you need to moisturise it and you can go for Plum Green Tea Mattifying Moisturizer It helps in fighting while hydrating your skin . Moisturise oily and acne prone skin, leaving it matte all day long.

Morning routine: the morning routine is pretty much the same, but you must always add sunscreen with SPF 30. Oily and acne-prone skin types look for non-comedogenic and oil-free SPF products which won’t be so greasy and block your pores.

It doesn’t take many steps to be followed for a teenager. Keep it very simple as your skin does everything for you, and you have to help it a little with only three steps cleansing, moisturising and protecting with sunscreen(only in the morning).

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