#theres quite a bit of scarring underneath

[mathlann]

Have been trying out the ol' art for the last hour or so, and between the forehead and cheek plates, and the cyber-monocle I am wondering how much mobility Cas actually has in her face.

#its partially decorative partially reconstructive #theres quite a bit of scarring underneath #also fun fact as going by game description her face plates have quite a few scratches in them from M #first in Commorragh then later but i forget when #rudely he does not offer to replace them #casimira von Valancius

[bawkrya]

a (infodump time GO GO GO :D )

-bleukorat-fr

@bleukorat-fr

hi i said my other infodumps would be unrelated to fr but i LIED bc i need to talk about the SILVER MARKET.

SO. the current “””head””” of the silver market is my Progen Feir!

Feir Used to be the Patriarch of Phrauge, coming from the Loral or Old Family, which had held the crown in Phrauge ever since the Clan was first created. He stepped down from his position as Patriarch and named Bawkrya the next Patriarch even though he did at the time have Heirs to inherit the throne. which caused a lot of fuss! but he didnt really care because he was more concerned about what was going on in the silver market, which like, what is that

The Silver Market is the illegal market that inhabits the Burrow Market (or just The Burrow), which is located directly underneath Phrauge, with the primary entrance being in the canyon between the Scarred Wasteland and Dragonhome. No one quite knows how this Market got started up, but everyone who knows about this market knows it was so they could do trades/sales/etc. under the radar of Flight or Clan laws. The Silver Market isn’t a common knowledge thing at all as well, you have to be knee deep in a lot of shady shit to even find out about it.

Guilds, Clans, etc. from ALL over Sornieth occupy the Burrow. Stalls, Very broken down buildings, etc etc make up the huge cavern and its VERY fucking packed. One of the primary jobs you can find down there is being a body guard literally willing to sacrifice ur life because of how packed it is down there-- if u even Look at someone wrong you WILL get ur ass beat. It’s a stupid intense area to be in, people are constantly dealing Various Items (heehee) that are worth even the slightest bit of value, theyre trying to get information, or they’re trying to escape/smuggle/etc. Anything that could get u landed in jail on Sornieth, it is most likely happening in this market.

There are some things that just arent tolerated in the market, as theres certain ways things are done for efficiency's sake, and Feir is the one that typically deals with it with his men. But again what is and isnt tolerated is Very grey and you just have to be careful about how you do things, bc if u do even one thing wrong in someones eyes, again, you can have your ass beat.

The silver market doesnt advertise itself whatsoever unless it is to other shady markets similar to itself. The dragons thrive on any source of income, and again will generally take any sort of work that gets them a good chunk of money, And given its underneath plague, they don’t really care if it fucks them up physically-- plague is all abt pushing thru it baby !!!!

I will say, a good bit of insp for what the silver market can look like is taken from the guild dens in Kill Six Billion Demons! its a lot more crowded, but its just a BUNCH of stalls, vendors, etc. trying to get their shit sold, so you’re constantly being approached when traveling thru the primary roads of the burrow. Hence why one would need bodyguards! Because ppl are so used to others just going up to them, those who frequent the burrow might get used to being approached, and just wont question it if someone rushes up on them LMFAO, so having a good guard that’ll protect u is vital if you intend to go there often

There are Backways to get into the burrow, but its really not the most stable at the moment. The burrow is One Big cavern thats been shelled out underneath plague, and the backways are smaller caverns that are considered to be “newer” than the primary cave. There’s several different backway caverns in Phrauge that are all strictly guarded as to make sure normal civilians dont wander in, under the guise of them being unstable or govt. owned caves. Which like, isnt a lie, but at the same time Phrauge really tries not to be too closely associated with the silver market like.           Publicly. 

BUUUT there are two other really big caves connected to the Burrow that inhabit some life. The first being my unnamed obelisk clan that started becoming active when Obelisks were first unearthed In Earth. These obbies are all a bit deformed, theyre all very aggressive towards other dragons, and generally are independent. Feir is trying his hardest to start working with these ladies, but again, theyre very aggressive to those they dont know. This clan is located a LOT further within Plague, right underneath the Quarantine Zone, which is why Feir believes them to be so aggressive/skittish. The trek to this clan is a Very hefty one, which is why theyve only been recently discovered like the other obelisks. Feir and the Private Council of Phrauge is currently trying to map out all of the cave system connected to the Burrow, which is how they ended up running into them.

The Private Council, which i havent even talked abt Anywhere before, is NOT the only ones who know about these obelisks though. The Lucilia is another group in the Burrow that resides in a big cave just out of reach of the usual marketers! And the creators of the Lucilia just happen to be Yagmur’s parents!

i dont actually have a set of dragons that are Yagmurs parents, but Yagmur themself is very active within the Lucilia with the information that their parents give to them, which is a lot of fucking dirt on the Loral family. (Yagmurs bio is written btw so u can get a bit more detail out of them)

The Lucilia is made up of a LOT of banished/”executed” journalists, officials, and more that had once been apart of Phrauge, or the clans that Phrauge attacked during the War of Flies. They’re very aware of the activity with the hidden Obelisks (and are studying them how they can), and are actually working with Feir and “Xu” (aka Yagmur) in order to get information about the War to the public.

The actual events of the War of Flies is REALLY hidden. So much so that a shit ton of dragons actually had their memories wiped of what happened during the war, because the Gods of Phrauge (not anura!!!!) didnt want to have their business aired out to the rest of sornieth. But! their power only reached so far, so there actually is a few dragons who remember what happened jst bc they managed to be out of the radar of the memory wipe. Feir happened to be one of the people to escape this radar, along with Xanthia, Yagmur, and *if i remember right* Arulo and Alvery. Fortinbras and Valencia also have information about this memory wipe due to their proximity to the government, but bc they have this knowledge theyre in a standstill w the Private Council. its so much

but yeah. the silver market is a really major part of my lore and theres still a lot of aspects i need to develop for it but this is a very general run down. EVENTUALLY, i will have a dedicated bio to it, which is why Silver exists! but um. again. its a lot of information. so while she’ll have a hefty run down, i might have to turn to a dedicated lore tumblr to go into actual depth, somethings might not b allowed on fr LMFAO

OH WAIT OH. XIDORN IS ALSO INVOLVED

the funny thing is that Yagmur doesnt know xidorn is involved with the market despite u kno, being married to him. but!

Xidorns primary job as most ppl kno is that he’s a cartographer. He’s known as the sole cartographer of phrauge, but because the Private Council is wanting to Map the cavesystem connected to the Burrow, he’s actually working with a proper team to get everything outlined. His job specifically is to get said outline done, while some others refine everything. hes like, the only one willing to go into the caves to get all the detail he possibly can, so he spends a good chunk of time down there. but he’s also mapping out the Malignant Redwood at the same time! he is a busy bitch!

and thats not even the only two things hes doing, despite spending so much time on both of the maps hes working on. He’s Very involved in the Silver Market fighting rings. 

He doesnt have any kind of alt name, he literally jst uses Xidorn, and its kind of a wonder how Yagmur hasnt found out about it yet? but also yagmur is really only worried about the war shit. but yeah he like beats the shit out of people for entertainment, but also, he basically has a whole hitlist. 

He won’t disclose who or what kind of group has hired him, not even to Bawkrya who has recently Found Out about his involvement in the market, but he goes after specific fighters in the ring and straight up kills them during the fights. These fighting rings are SHADY, so killing really isnt off of the table, and because Bawkrya doesnt want to get busted for being in the silver market as well, Xidorn cant really be arrested properly. But also hes like doing a form of justice? its a very grey area for what hes doing, bt he gets away with it.

He does do normal & fair fights within the rings bc again, its for entertainment (not just for the crowds), but no one is really surprised anymore if he murks his opponent in the ring. Bc no one realizes that it’s targeted! Most if not all of the watchers/ringmasters believe it to be bc Xidorn just gets Really Really into fighting his opponent and jst cant hold off from time to time, bc xidorn isnt like, killing these guys back to back. There’s even times where hes fought an opponent multiple times before killing them. So it kind of throws ppl off his trail, bc no one actually cares about genuine track record outside of how many fights theyve won or lost (& xidorn has a high win rate)

Bawkrya and a select few Have picked up on the pattern though, and Bawkrya himself is watching over it really carefully, but so long as Feir isn’t calling out the behavior, he won’t do anything about it. also he likes watching xidorn fight the mf is insane in the ring.

ok that is all i can think of goodbye

#Asks #bleukorat-fr #My Lore

[retroellie]

Farm. Ellie. Making. You. Squirt. 👀 👀👀AAaRAghg now I NEED a whole fic for that!!!! For the sake of my sanity pretty pretty pleaseeeee 😩🙏🏼

Summary: Ellie finding scandalous polaroid's of you before finding out what she can do to you :)

A/N: Thanks for the ask<3 it was a bit rushed but i tried, theres so many asks to do so plz bear with me lol. Also i did research for this one cause idk much about this subject so be proud of me ASHAH

Warnings: NSFW, Squirting, fingering, cunniligus

Word count: 3.2K

She didn’t know what happened, one minute she was listening to Joel strum his guitar, wondering when the hoard will pass so she can finally be with you again. Then the next minute she was looking down a scandalous picture of you, gripping the paper so tightly her knuckles had turned white.

She was digging through her backpack when a piece of paper fell out of it. The paper was folded neatly, the words “For ellie<3″ standing out. Her eyebrows knitted in confusion, not quite sure who had put it in there but there was only one way to find out. She picked it up, it was heavier than it looked.

She opened it up and something fell out of the folded paper onto the ground. She looked down towards the floor to see 5 polaroids scattered, she was even more confused. She picked one up and examined it.

It was a picture of you and her, you two were on her bed. You had a huge smile on your face as ellies lips were on your cheek. Her arms were draped across your stomach lazyly, Ellie smiled. She remembered that day so well, you both were sick with colds and you both stayed in bed all day with each other watching old 80s movies.

The next one she didn’t recognize. You were in her bed once again, you were laying on your back with the camera pointed at your chest. You had a small tank top on which didn’t leave too much to ellies imagination. Your neck and chest were covered in hickeys, the dark shade complementing your lips.

The next was even more scandalous. You were in the mirror with only a set of back lacy underwear Ellie had gotten you on one of her trips. Your hand was over your boobs, covering them up so she couldn’t see them. She could see marks on your waist, finger prints from her. It was evident she had once been in the room with you, judging by your puffy lips and sweat drenched body.

The last one made her heart drop and the blood from her face drain. You were on her bed once again, you were topless. Your hair was draped over your boobs and your legs were spread slightly allowing her to see a small sliver of all of you. One hand was on your hip and the other was placed on your chest, right above your boob.

She looked down at the paper and saw sloppy writing on it, she didn’t hesitate in ripping it open and reading it.

Dear ellie,

I thought you were gonna miss me so i decided to have a photo shoot just for you<3 I hope you like them, I'm no model but I thought having these would make you miss me less. (or to show what your missing, don’t want you running off with another girl)

I miss you like crazy and you haven’t even left now, but by the time you're reading this I know I'll be missing you :(. Please be safe and don’t die, I don't want some asshole getting these pictures off your dead body. Oh and I'll miss you when you're dead of course:)

Anyway, please be safe baby and come back to me. I can’t wait to be ruined when you get back, Muah muah

Love,

Y/n XOXO

Her jaw tensed up, her hand grabbing the paper tightly. She tried everything to stop the thoughts of ruining you from running through her head, she couldn’t do anything about it either. She only had these pictures of you, she couldn’t touch you or be touched. The frustration was really getting to her.

She was pulled back to reality by Joel strumming the strings of his guitar.She shoved the pictures into her backpack hoping Joel didn’t see them. She let out a loud sigh, trying to calm herself down. She couldn’t wait to get home, she knew exactly what she was going to do. She knew this was gonna be a long trip.

-

-

The next couple days were hell for ellie. She couldn’t get her mind off the pictures and she couldn’t get off either. She didn’t get much alone time thanks to Tommy and Joel so all the frustration was building up. She couldn’t sleep sometimes, she was so touch starved it interrupted her dreams

When they finally arrived at Jackson she didn’t hesitate in running to her house, knowing you’d be there. With a couple welcome backs and half assed replies from Ellie, she finally arrived at her garage. She slowly opened the door, being greeted with warmth and the smell of your perfume.

Her room hadn’t changed much, there was still clutter of books and you were on her bed with little clothes on. When you heard the door open your head perked up, your eyes leaving the book you were reading. You gave her a big smile before throwing your legs over the bedside, running over to her.

You wrapped your arms around her neck, bringing her into a deep kiss. You guys had been away from each other for a bit. You hated when Ellie went out on trips like these, trips that took days to come back from. You never knew when she’d be back or if she’d be back.

Her hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you unbelievably close to her. You both basked in the warmth, your hands running through her auburn locks. She felt the most relaxed she had in days, feeling so close to you made her feel safe.

"I missed you..." You said while pulling away from her.

Her eyes had gotten a bit darker, almost now dulled completely. You thought it was because of the long trip she just had but Ellie had other things on her mind. The tourture your little photoshoot put her through, the hunger she felt it was enough to make anyone snap. she thought it couldn't get worse but when she walked in on you with just a shirt on and some cute panties, that was the cherry on top.

"Don't act all cute...." Her voice was thick with dominance, maybe the most you've ever heard. " 'i can't wait to get ruined when you get back'' ' She recited from your letter

She had read the letter so many times she could speak it all without the paper. The words haunted her and she was going to make sure you were ruined by the end of it. You looked speechless, like you hadn't any idea what she was talking about.

The innocent look in your eye made her hands shake and her mind wonder to all that she could do to you while that innocent look was still there, how far could she push you until you broke? She grabbed a fist full of your hair, forcing you to look into her dull eyes.

She pulled you into a deep kiss, hand still gripping your hair to keep you in place and the other one wrapping around your waist. You let out a small whimper, surprised by how fast it happened. Your muscles then relax, your head dizzy.

You hadn’t been touched, neither of you did so you both were touch starved. You brought your hands up to grab at her. Her hair, her neck, her chest you grabbed at everything. Her hand wandered down to your ass that was only covered by lacy underwear, giving it a squeeze. You moaned into the kiss, allowing her to move her tongue into your mouth.

The sudden affection made your legs shake and your eyes roll back into your head. She noticed this, watching as you became a moaning mess just by kissing. She took this as a sign to get you on the bed so she took a step forward, hinting at you to walk to the bed.

You started to walk backwards, your lips still on hers. You reached the bed, falling back on it. You pulled Ellie closer and closer to you, legs around her waist wanting more of her. She pulled a way for a split second just to pull her backpack and shirt off, not wanting to waste precious time she could spend in between your sweet little thighs.

You eagerly watched her, face heating up causing a soft red glow on your face. Her shirt trailed up her body, revealing more and more of her. She was only in a sports bra and a pair of jeans when she finally got her shirt off. You bit your lip at the sight, seeing how her nipples could be seen from underneath her sports bra.

When you drew your attention back to her, you saw her giving you a stern look. You could tell she was waiting for you to also take your shirt off, you gave a small giggle at how distracted you were before pulling your shirt off as well. The cold air hit your bare chest, making you shiver underneath her grasp

Ellie’s breath hitched, watching as your chest rose up and down. You looked like an angel to her, your hair sprawled out on the bed, only in a pair of lacy underwear, soft thighs around her waist. How can someone so angelic do something so dirty?

Ellie ran one of her cold hands up your stomach, enjoying the softness of your skin. You reacted to her touch with a small whimper, Goosebumps rising on your skin. She admired every scar and bump on your skin, loving how it looked on your skin. She reached your boobs, placing her hand on top of one. She bent down to place small kisses on your chest.

“I missed these.” She said between kisses.

You giggled, watching her every move. You moved a hand up to her hair, running your hand through it as she kissing and sucked on your skin. You let moans and groans fall off from your lips. She backed them, they encouraged her to do more. She regularly wanted to taste you so her kisses made their way down your neck, down your breast, down your stomach and finally to your lacy pair of underwear.

She placed small kisses on the inside of your thighs, watching you squirm. You watched her every move with wide eyes, she looked up at you nipping at your thighs. She kissed up your thigh until she reached your underwear.

She hooked her fingers on the sides of your underwear and slowly pulled them down, coming face to face with all of you. She slid your underwear off and threw them somewhere in the room. She looked up at you and then back at your thighs.

“Your soaked baby,” she said, breaking the silence.

You just bit your lip, a bit embarrassed about how your cunt was dripping onto your bed sheets. You couldn't help it, Ellie made you feel things no one else has. She noticed your embarrassment.

"Let me guess." She said, sliding a finger up and down your cunt. "You touched yourself to the thought of me, every. single. night while i was gone.

She swiped up and down your cunt a few more times before shoving two fingers inside you. You threw your head back, only ellies long slim fingers could reach that one place inside you that made your toes curl and she hit it every. single. time.

"What'd you think about huh?" She said, planting another sweet little kiss on your thigh.

you didn't respond, more like you couldn't respond. She curled her fingers, just grazing you g-spot. She chuckled up at you, leading her kissing up and up. She was promised to ruin you and she was going too.

"Was it me fucking you with the strap, you hands tied to the bed post while i thrust in and out.." Her fingers forcefully shoving in and out of you harshly to accentuate her words. "of your sweet little cunt."

You let out a high pitched moan in response to those harsh thrusts, making you see stars. She grinned, gripping onto your thigh roughly before licking up your cunt as if she was licking an ice cream cone on a hot summer day.

She scissored her fingers inside of you, not going too fast but deep and rough. the sinful sound of her fingers working in and out of your cunt filled the room along with your sweet moans. She licked you one last time, lapping up your juices before savoring the way you tasted.

"or was it just like this?" She asked once again, fully aware of you too lost in the pleasure to answer her. "My head in between your thighs, fucking you with my tongue and fingers while you sit back looking all cute."

She was right to say the least, you did run your hand down your body at night while thinking about her. You thought about it all, every position, every toy you had, every single dirty thing you thought about while fucking yourself until you were too tired to stay awake.

Your hands gripped onto the sheets, your knuckles turning yellow. A thin sheet of sweat was developing along your flushed body. Ellie's fingers got faster, curling and thrusting and then spreading apart before doing it over and over and over again. It was enough to make you cum right then and there if she asked.

"Your lucky baby..." she stated, looking up at you seeing you come apart. "I'm going to fuck you until you've made a pretty mess out of yourself and than i'm going to fuck you all over again."

Ellie's hand pushed your thigh all the way down to the bed, then returned to it to grip at it as she divided her tongue into your cunt. She started slow with her tongue but her fingers stayed the same pace , rough and fast.

Her tongue was so sudden it made you moan a little too loud for your liking. That didn't stop her but made her movement quicker, her fingers jabbing at your g-spot head on now. You were absolutely on fire, your skin felt hot and sticky.

You reached up to your boobs and grabbed at them, only maximizing the pleasure. Ellie licked circles on your clit, the sensitive bud sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. You threw your head back, back arching and waist thrusting along with her fingers.

Her nails dug into your thighs flesh, leaving small moon shapes there. Your moans became louder and at this point you didnt care if anyone heard, right now the only thing you cared about was Ellie's mouth on your aching cunt.

Ellie blew cool air onto your cunt, making you jerk up to meet her mouth. She chuckled at your neediness before giving you what you wanted, her mouth. There was no point in teasing you now and she obviously wasn't done punishing you.

Her tongue sped up, lapping at your cunt and really focusing on your clit. She added another finger, allowing her fingers to go deeper. Your hand gripped at her hair to grab it, thrusting your hips up faster and harder than before.

She couldn't get a good angle on your cunt so she took the hand that was on your thighs and brought it up to your waist to keep you down. You could feel your orgasm near but it felt different this time, your belly felt like it was on fire.... it didn't hurt it just felt different, a good difference?

Ellie added another finger, stretching you open. Her tongue was set and determined on your clit, the sensitive bud becoming overstimulated. You could no longer control your volume, you were basically screaming to the point ellie decided if she should stop or not. She didn't need more noise complaints.

Your body was already shaking violently, your stomach felt like it was on fire. This was terrifying how you felt but at the same time you didn't want it to stop. It felt so good and hurt in the best way possible.

Ellie didn't slow down but only sped up more and more until you let out a loud scream. The building knot in your stomach finally snapped and you were overcome with such ecstasy such pleasure, pure fucking light. It was all too much for you, your vision almost went and your hearing ceased for a split second.

From ellies point of view her fingers were soaked, along with her chest and face and even her jeans. She didn't know what was happening for a minute, her first thought was you had peed on her to be honest but after taking one look up at you she knew what had happened. You had squirted.... it had been something she had seen in an old porn tape she came across.

You felt far away from your own body, feeling only wetness on your lower half and after shock waves coming from your cunt. You came back to your body when your head was talking to you.

"Holy shit.... i didn't think i could do that..'' She admitted to you as your eyes fluttered open.

You looked over at her to see her completely soaked with your juices, you suddenly became embarrassed. You didn't know your body did did that, you didn' think it could do that. You closed your your sticky legs as best as you could.

"I'm sorry..." You said, sitting up slowly.

"No no.... It's okay!" Ellie laughed, pushing you slightly back down.

She laid on top of you, kissing you softly. She never wanted you to be ashamed of yourself even after doing something so fucking hot. She brushed your hair out of your face.

"That was a hot babe.... don't be sorry." She smiled.

You let out a sigh, honestly you were still slightly in shock and not yet fully conscious. You were sticky and sweaty, your bottom half tingling and drenched. Ellie's body on yours didn't make it any better but you were okay with that, you just wanted to be with her.

She could sense you not being all there by the way your eyes were still foggy. So she lifted herself off of you and made her way across the room to put on some music, trying to coax you back into your body again.

She went back to the bed and cuddled you up into a blanket before laying beside you, talking to you in a sweet and calm voice telling you all about her journey. She told you about the forest they traveled through and how she swore she saw fairies at one point. She just said anything to relax you and ground you.

"You're cute when you babble." You spoke, voice raspy from screaming.

"look who's back.." She joked, moving a hair from your face.

"That was intense..." You replied, you moved your hand up and down her arm before grabbing her hand in yours

"I know, they make it look so easy in porn." She said, making you perk up.

"Porn?!?!" You asked

You gave her a wide eyed look wanting to know the story behind her porn experience. She scoffed at your sudden interest and threw her hands up, regretting the decision to stay that.

"It was one time when I was 15.... I came across a tape!" She said, laughing at her stupid teenage self.

“Well i have to know the full story…”

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fanfic #tlou ellie #the last of us part two #the last of us x reader #the last of us pt ii #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #the last of us

[alkhale]

Desert Sun (Male!Vivi x Male!Hoku) Memos AU Ko-fi request

Hi! Recently i begin to love Vivi(theres dome amazing fanarts about genderbender!Vivi that i found ). so i would like to get an Vivi x Hoku or M!Vivi x Hoku or M!Vivi x M!Hoku ,please.

Pictures for reference! Male!Vivi by @bab_119

Male!Hoku looks a lot like Allen from D. Gray Man with just a bit shorter hair. He keeps the side braid with Mihawk’s ribbon or uses it to tie off a little ponytail at the base of his neck.

“What are you drawing, Hoku?”

Hoku paused, his fingers loosely holding the pencil in his grip. The lazy, light sketches looked back at him over the expanse of thick paper and he grinned a bit at the sight, looking up at Vivi’s voice. “Couldn’t sleep, prince charming?”

Vivi rolled his eyes at him, lightly running his fingers through the soft blue tufts of his hair. He came down the set of steps onto the lower deck where Hoku was leaning against one of Nami’s tangerine trees. A few peels sat at Hoku’s bare feet in the grass, his only evidence.

The front of Hoku’s wispy white bangs were pulled up over the top of his head, tied together in a silly looking tuft. The sight made Vivi want to chuckle, but he withheld it for now in case Hoku just started making fun of him for something else. The artist tended to be quick to bite back with retorts at Vivi if he tried to tease him too much, like stepping on the end of a cat’s tail.

Maybe it means we got closer. Vivi wondered, sighing as he looked over to the side. Or not.

The air was cool outside, another sign of their closeness to Alabasta’s own climate. Hot, rolling sun throughout the days and dark, cold nights across the endless expanse of sand and rolling desert. A sight and sensation Vivi never got sick of, not once, only missing it more as he got closer and closer to home.

Hoku shifted a bit to make room for Vivi underneath the tangerine tree. Vivi smiled a bit at that, trying not to get too hopeful and lowering himself down and getting comfortable beside Hoku, carefully stretching out his legs and watching how his legs stretched out just a bit further than Hoku’s.

Hoku’s feet weren’t as scratched up or scarred as Vivi thought they’d be. Well-protected by the sturdy, worn material of his boots sitting on the other side of him. Hoku’s hands were a different story though. Calloused, smoothed over, and then calloused all over again, only soft at the fingertips.

“It was getting too stuffy in the room,” Vivi said. Hoku snorted. “I wanted a bit of air.”

“Told you to just take the hammock outside,” Hoku said, pointing his pencil at the hammock he’d drawn from sheets and set up between Nami’s tangerine trees. Vivi raised a brow in amusement. “Nothing can beat a good hammock under the fresh air.”

“What do you do when it rains?”

“Just draw a tarp or a big umbrella, what else?”

Vivi laughed, a soft, elegant sound. Hoku rolled his eyes, turning his focus back to his sketchbook. Vivi watched his slender fingers move in silence, taking in the careful strokes and quick shifts of Hoku’s finger across the pages. He was never one for drawing or artistic crafts, but Vivi sometimes felt like he could watch Hoku do this forever.

Hoku loved what he did. He always looked like he loved down what he did.

Vivi wondered how much of that love Hoku could see himself.

“You’d die for your country, right? That’s good. I’ll lend you a life then if you need it.”

Their shoulders pressed against each other, warm still, from the earlier sunlight. Vivi idly rubbed the back of his neck, staring at the small space between his and Hoku’s legs before he quickly turned them away. Vivi winced, realizing his eyes landed instead on the bare expanse of Hoku’s stomach, left exposed from the shortness of the tight white turtleneck he wore, showing off the lean, taut muscle.

Vivi’s eyes quickly shifted to the side of Hoku’s face instead, quietly following the red ink pattern blended into his skin, curving softly around his eye. Vivi almost laughed again, realizing normally Luffy didn’t let him get away with looking this long.

“Tell me about Alabasta.”

Vivi blinked, looking up in confusion. Hoku didn’t look up at him, never taking his eyes off the page. “Go on, anything. Or you could just give me a bit of blood too.”

“Alabasta?” Vivi said. Hoku nodded, once. “I—well, is there a reason—”

“Don’t have too if you don’t want to,” Hoku said, sketching absently at the bottom of the page. “Up to you. Running out of ideas.”

Vivi kept silent for a moment, thinking it over. Hoku was warm beside him, reminding Vivi of the first rays of sunlight in the morning, not too warm, just barely there and gone in a blink. Hoku smelled like ink, a hint of iron and something else, like a flower maybe underneath the heavier smell of tangerines all around them. 

“Guess I’ll just draw Usopp,” Hoku muttered.

Vivi quickly straightened, clearing his throat before he started to speak, a little hurried at first. “It’s a lot larger than people realize. Across the desert it seems like it stretches as far as the ocean, but there’s all kinds of small spots that mark what’s what. The towns are all different, unique in their own way and filled with history.”

“Okay, tell me about one.”

“Alubarna—it’s where I grew up,” Vivi quickly continued, trying to keep Hoku’s attention on his words, on his home. Hoku’s pencil lightly shifted over the paper. “So big, a small child could easily get lost in the columns, fit right behind them.”

“What were you like as a kid?” Hoku mused. Vivi brightened.

“I, well, I wasn’t quite the picture perfect image for a prince. I got into trouble a bit and fought with some of the local kids, but we also became friends! I followed my father around—”

“You look more like your mom or your dad?” Hoku asked.

Vivi hesitated a second before saying softly, warmly, “My mother.”

Hoku’s lips curled up into a crooked smile. Vivi stared at it a bit in wonder. “Me too.”

Vivi felt the words gathering up at his throat. He tried to figure out the most elegant way to say it, to ask— “What was your home like? What were you like as a child, Hoku?”

“Keep going,” Hoku said softly.

“T-The palace is grand and white, huge, swirling columns and massive statues of Alabasta’s guardian deities stand in front of it,” Vivi said, hoping his chance would come again. “I think people from Artopoki were paid years ago to help build them.”

“Oh~” Hoku said. “Must be real good then. Keep going.”

Vivi’s voice grew smoother, warmer as the memories came flooding back to him in perfect clarity. They appeared, bright as day and perfectly clear in all their entirety, as if he’d never left the sand and the smell of the sun and the dry, warm heat. Hoku’s hand continued to move, quick and effortless across the page and Vivi followed it with a sort of hypnotic ease, feeling his shoulders unwind, his back relax. Hoku’s warmth didn’t disappear beside him.

“I love Yuba too,” Vivi said slowly. “My best friend is there... Yuba’s a great center of commerce and life...”

“What are the seasons like?” Hoku murmured.

“Always warm,” Vivi mumbled, his eyes drooping a bit. He tried to shake his head awake. “But the nights get cold... you might... like it...”

“Keep going,” Hoku said, soft by his ear. Vivi continued, mumbling the words out, his eyes drooping a bit. He tried to keep going, feeling the heavy, heavy fatigue pulling at his eyes.

Vivi could feel the sun behind his eyelids, warming his skin. He wondered if Hoku wouldn’t mind the heat too much. He said he liked the sun, right? Hoku had never tried food from Alabasta either. Would he like the palace baths? Maybe not, since Hoku didn’t seem fond of water. There was a lot Vivi wanted to show him, lots and lots.

More of my home... would you like to see it?

Hoku waited a few more minutes until the soft sound of Vivi’s breathing filled his ears. He sighed in amusement through his nose, shifting his shoulder under the weight of Vivi’s head resting on it. Hoku snorted, ripping out the page in his book and folding it up, tucking it into the waistband of Vivi’s pants.

Hoku debated his options for a bit until the silky ends of Vivi’s hair started to tickle his chin, the soft warmth of Vivi’s breath against his neck. Hoku rolled his eyes. Look at this guy.

Hoku carefully maneuvered Vivi’s head onto the soft grass, standing up. He took a moment, considering Vivi’s poor looking figure on the lonely floor before he finally threw a quickly drawn blanket over him. Vivi shifted, groping around on the grass and Hoku tossed a body shaped pillow down beside him too, watching with a snort as Vivi wrapped his arm around it and sighed, content.

Hoku rolled his eyes again, lightly nudging Vivi’s slumbering form with his foot before hopping into his own hammock with a satisfied sigh, grinning up at the stars as he shut his eyes.

“Sleep tight, prince charming—hngh?”

Hoku let out a garbled shout, a strong tug ripping him entirely out of his hammock and back onto the grass. He tried to sit up, hissing at the pain in his back when a sudden weight tossed itself over his stomach, pinning Hoku back flat to the ground. His eyes bulged from his head, jerking over to where a completely knocked out Vivi was sighing in deep content, the crease in his brow relaxing as he tightened his arm around Hoku and let his cheek rest on Hoku’s shoulder, snuggling up to him.

Hoku experimentally pried at Vivi’s arm, wheezing in surprise at the young man’s grip. Goddess!

Hoku scowled, grumbling in discontent. He threw his arms behind his head, cushioning it and shutting his eyes with a sigh. I’ll just wait till he lets up. When he wakes up tomorrow he’s gonna get it.

A few minutes passed and Hoku’s own brows relaxed a bit, body growing slack as sleep overtook him. Somewhere along the way Vivi shifted, one hand sleepily guiding Hoku’s head to rest on his chest while the blanket was strewn over them, Vivi’s arm returning to encircle Hoku’s shoulders.

Hoku muttered something in his sleep while Vivi let out a relaxed sigh, looking pleased.

- Luffy threw a fit in the morning, Vivi hid his face in his hands and Hoku simply packed up his hammock and decided he’d set up camp up in the crow’s nest

(this was more fun to write than i expected hahahaha, i get such student council president and lazy, not really a delinquent but unmotivated, complicated art student dynamics from these two)

#memos #memos au #vivi #hoku #vivi x hoku #ViKu #male hoku looking more like mahina kinda makes me soft #male!vivi #male!hoku #ko-fi request #ko-fi requests

[canonconspiracy]

The Prince and the Maid (Gabriel x Reader)

Fandom: Supernatural

Fanfiction By: @rmorningstar21​

Pairing: Gabriel x Reader

This is cross-posted between my AO3 and Wattpad (@rmorningstar21)

AN:  I am NOT bringing back Supernatural to stay quite yet, but I hope this little (well, not so little) one shot is enjoyable.  This has been sitting in my in progress fics for a while, and I thought since I had some time and inspiration, I would finish it up. 

"It's safer if we go together," Sam argued to Dean, as you had overheard while fetching yourself a cup of coffee, simply returning back to your room in the bunker.  Since Gabriel was back and bloodied, you were terrified to even look at the archangel.  You had missed him terribly, but that bloodied archangel was not the candy loving, flirtatious man that you fell in love with.  The first glimpse you had seen of him, you had to force yourself to stride out of the room, leaving the two men who were practically brothers to you alone with Ketch.  

Dean was adamant, from what you could hear, about Sam staying back, as he said, "Oh, theres no such thing as safer over there.  You know that."  You could practically hear how hard Sam had swallowed from his words, and you felt a pit in your heart, simply from not being courageous enough to tend to Gabriel.  As you were, you would be able to protect him, but seeing that bloodied shell of the man you loved brought you into tearful fits.  "I know you don't like this, okay? I don't expect you to.  Y/N isn't even able to look at Gabriel, though.  This is the way it's gonna be." 

Sucking in a deep, shaky breath, you emerged from your hiding with your coffee in hand, enjoying the fumes that brought comfort to you from the dark drink.  "Let Sam go," you said in a shaky tone.  "I'll take care of Gabe."  The two Winchester brothers gazes fell upon you, and could hear the urgency in your voice.  You could not keep hiding from Gabriel while he was injured, even with the mental and physical scars that Asmodeus had provided him.  "You two need each other, and I can keep him safe." 

"Are you sure about this, Y/N?" Sam said, sending you a worried glance with his brown hued eyes.  

They could both see that you were shaking, but you knew in your heart that you needed to do this.  Gabriel needed you, and it was selfish of you to simply hide from him.  You nodded, saying, "Please." 

The three of them begun quick work on the spell that they had needed to open the portal to the other world, while you took your first steps to taking care of Gabriel - merely by sitting in the chair beside him, your eyes fighting back the tears that threatened to drip down your face.  Though Gabriel would not understand them, you needed to at least wait until the Winchester boys were gone, instead of giving them the opportunity to change their minds.  

Your eyes rolled softly over his bloodied features, starting with his matted hair that was once the handsome dirty blond that you would dream of swiftly allowing your fingers to trail through.  From there, your eyes landed upon his face, specifically the bloodied mess that blemished his handsome skin, followed by the vacant look in his previously radiant whiskey eyes.  It killed you to look at, but you knew it was necessary.  He was scared, and you could see that in those saddening eyes.

You waited until the Winchester boys had left through the portal with Ketch before you had tried to do any more than stare.  When they had disappeared into the portal, you had already given up and abandoned your coffee that was sitting on the table.  All of your focus was planned to help Gabriel, and you were determined to do so in steps.    

"May I take you to your room?" You whispered gently, knowing you would not actually get a response from him.  He cowered, but you carefully and gently coerced him to walk with you, which you were thankful was not a long walk.  Normally, when you had accidentally found yourself against Gabriel's vessel, it was comforting and made you feel at peace.  This, unfortunately, was not peaceful, though.  

When you had gotten him to his room, he had immediately scurried himself to a far corner of it.  Castiel would not be around until later to attempt to help place the grace back into Gabriel, so you had plenty of time to kill while watching the archangel before you would even begin to get through to him.  You took the chair from the side of the room and sat upon it backwards, leaning against the back of it with your chest as you thought of the words you could possibly say to him.  

Part of you wanted to talk simply to fill the empty that was in the room without his charm.  "Gabriel," you said softly, though you knew he would not look at you, nor recognize who you were.  "May I tell you a story?"  You waited a moment, though you planned to continue to talk regardless, knowing he would not answer you.  "Once upon a time, there was a girl that never thought she was that special.  She was merely a maid, orphaned at a young age.  To keep herself alive, she would work for various people, but this one family would always bring her back.  One day, the family brought her to clean up a mess before a prince visited.  She had the honor of meeting that prince as she was leaving, and he had seemed to show up at the home that she cleaned whenever she was cleaning.  The maid begun falling in love with the prince, though she knew that she shouldn't.  Over time, she had learned that the prince was wild - one that could not be tamed by the concept of love.  He would spend a night with a different woman almost nightly, and the maid begun to loathe herself for falling in love with the prince.  Regardless of her actions, she was in love with him nonetheless, and knew, despite his desire to sleep with the world, that he was a man of kind heart.  She kept her feelings from the prince, and always kept him at arms length.  When she finally managed to get the courage to tell the prince, he was gone before she could ever tell him." 

When you had finished telling the story, you had tears in your eyes, and you glanced over to the man whom was at least staring back at you with his sad eyes.  "I really missed you, Gabriel, and I would have personally toppled Hell if I knew," you murmured out softly.  "I can't tell you when you're coherent, but that story is the best way for me to convey how I've felt for you." 

Hearing a soft knock at the door, you ended up getting up slowly, making your way over to the door and turning the handle slowly, just to make sure not to startle Gabriel.  When you opened it all the way, you were face to face with Castiel, who had a light smile upon his face, and a plate that held a capsule of Gabriel's archangel grace.  Before you were able to do anything more than smile, Castiel said, "I didn't want to interrupt your story." 

You could not help but let some blush tint your face as you let him into the room and let your eyes flicker over to Gabriel.  "You've known, though, haven't you?" You said, allowing your eyes to flicker back over to Castiel. 

"I'm pretty sure everyone besides Gabriel knew," Castiel said with a half smile, attempting to be comforting.  "The Winchesters did not tell me he was this bad, though."  Castiel's eyes loomed over Gabriel, and he was now no longer looking at you because of the extra presence in the room.  Instead, he was huddled up in the corner once more, which made your smile drop.  

"Once he's better again, I'm going after that fucking asshole," you said lowly, in a hushed tone.  "I would have rathered having him running around avoiding the apocalypse than going through what did this." 

You slowly made your way over to Gabriel, coaxing him carefully, though he just kept trying to hide.  "Shh, Gabriel," you said softly.  "Its okay, I just want to move you to your bed." As you said it, you were able to get your arm underneath his own, hoisting him up onto the bed as gently as possible.  You treated him as glass, because you simply did not want to hurt the already broken archangel in front of you.  

"It would not be wise going after Asmodeus," Castiel warned you, a frown prominent against his lips.  

"I know," you said with a straight face, before you carefully grabbed the archangel grace from the plate it was sitting upon, opening the capsule.  As you turned to Gabriel, you watched him cower once more, but gently you reached out to him.  "I would never hurt you, Gabriel," you reassured him.  "Your grace should help you feel better."  

Castiel watched in awe as you gently coaxed Gabriel, taking it step by step as slowly as possible.  You brought the capsule closer to his face, but before you got too close, you asked him, "May I?"  Gabriel was hesitant at you getting anywhere near his likely sore lips, backing away as you got closer.  As he backed away, you did as well slowly.  

After a dance back and forth of trying to coerce Gabriel to open his mouth, you finally managed to get him to do so the slightest bit.  As he did, you poured the archangel grace into him, avoiding his pained lips as you did.  "It's going to take a while for him to recover," Castiel said gently, looking over his broken brother.  

You simply nodded gently, and smiled at Gabriel.  Castiel ended up leaving the room, and you had given Gabriel his space, setting yourself back up at the chair you were sitting at prior.  Mentally, you noted to yourself that Gabriel did not move from the bed after you had moved to the chair, and you had admittedly seen him glancing your direction once or twice.  He still looked very beaten, worn down, but somehow it seemed like he was recognizing you more.  

*** 

You had fallen asleep at the chair that you were sitting at while in Gabriel's room.  As you woke, you noticed a difference in the room, and a difference with your position.  While you were still on the chair, you felt a light cloth was gently wrapped around your body, and as your eyes scanned the room, apparently Gabriel had written in enochian all over the walls of the room the two of you were in.  

He was curled in a ball on the bed as you stood, gently folding the blanket before truly scanning the room.  Though Castiel had taught you the smallest bit of enochian, you were not at a readable level for any of it, so you ended up calling him.  It did not take long for him to get to the bunker, and he begun reading Gabriel's story to you.  

The story around you explained about how Asmodeus used Gabriel, beat him, and so very much more.  Castiel had explained that he was caught while in hiding after faking his death. It was more than a depressing turn of events, despite the fact that the part about the porn stars hurt almost nearly as much as Gabriel's torment.  Once Castiel was done, you had been speechless.  Since Castiel had matters to attend to in heaven, you were once again left alone with Gabriel.  

You strode a little closer to him than the chair, but not enough to scare him.  "Gabriel...I can't even imagine what you went through," you whispered finally, your voice shaky.  "And I understand why you didn't want to be a part of the last apocalypse.  You have to dig yourself out of this hole, though.  You may think it's so much safer- no more torture, no more pain, and no more expectations.  I've been there.  You're nothing like your family, and I wasn't either.  I got out, or you know, I thought I did, and then the people that I gave a shit about needed me.  Those people turned into my family, and this turned into my life, no matter how many times I fought it.  Sure, hookers and Monte carlo sounds great- peaceful, even. Your family needs you, though.  Jack, your nephew, needs you.  The world needs you.  Sam and Dean need you."  You paused, taking in a deep breath, your eyes tearing up a bit.  "Hell, Gabriel, I need you.  More than you'll ever know.  So, please, help us." 

You felt yourself tearing up more, and you glanced to the ground.  After a few moments of standing there, for some reason thinking that he may answer you, you begun to walk away.  Your emotions flowed around your mind, and you needed to go somewhere that you weren't around the muted archangel.  

As you were just about to turn the handle, hand already gripping the cold metal, his graveled voice said, "Porn stars." 

At the sound of his voice, you turned yourself back around, glancing at the beaten archangel.  "Porn stars?" You said, suppressing a chuckle that wanted to emit from your mouth.  

"They were porn stars, not hookers," he corrected, his voice seeming a little forced, but audible nonetheless.  Slyly, his lips turned into a gentle smirk, glancing up at you with his whiskey colored eyes.  For a moment, there was simply silence between the two of you, trying to place two and two together as he simply stared at you.  

Finally, the words slipped past your lips, a smile forming against them.  "You're back, Gabe," you choked out, feeling as if you were simply going to cry of sorrowful joy as you knew you could not simply run to the archangel.  Nonetheless, he was back, and you could feel your heart pattering in your chest.  

"Not at one hundred percent, Sugar," he replied softly.  "But don't think I didn't hear your story." 

You could feel your cheeks heated with blush at his words, and your y/e/c eyes slipped to the floor uncomfortably.  The story that you told him was your little confession when you thought he was not coherent enough to understand it, and yet, you had been wrong.  Swallowing hard, you bit your lip silently.  

"I wasn't a fan of the ending," he said slyly, causing you to simply gape at him.  "I think once the maid allows the prince to heal, he should get a kiss.  I'm more of a fan of happy endings." 

You rolled your eyes, though the blush upon your face darkened at his words.  "I'm sure that could be arranged, my Prince," you teased him softly, before carefully walking back over to him.  "In the meantime, you should get some rest, though." 

#supernatural fanfiction #supernatural gabriel #supernatural #SPN #spnfandom #spn reader insert #spn fanfiction #spn fandom #gabriel x reader #supernatural gabriel x reader #oneshot #oneshot collection #supernatural oneshot collection #supernatural oneshot #ao3 #ao3fic #wattpad #wattpadstories

[lu-undy]

Hc! Theres days where Spy's scars itch. Hes uncomfortable on battle because of this. It isnt an itch you can scratch away, not really, the scar tissue is dense and he can get to she skin underneath it. Snipers job is to observe, so he notices how Spy squirms under his suit trying to make that itch dissapear, but its in vain. Sniper approaches his morethanfriend to see whats the matter. Spy is reluctant at first but he opens up to Snipes. Later dat day Snipes rubs some sorta thing on the scars.🐑

Alright, here we go, I hope you’ll like it :D

The Frenchman sighed and mumbled something in French to himself. It was summer and the habit of wearing a suit was less practical now, especially when topped with a mask. He was sweating beneath his attire… 

Him and his teams were in the respawn room and the battle was about to start. As the Administrator delicately sung the countdown, he lit a cigarette to take his mind off of what was truly bothering him. 

"BEGIN!" 

The gates flashed open and he watched his colleagues pour out of the room and into the battlefield. Spy cloaked and exited the room soon after.  He ran unnoticed, passing his colleagues and soon breaching enemy lines. 

He saw the Engineer setting up and upgrading a sentry in the back. He seemed alone and thank God, the nuisance that the enemy Pyro was was nowhere to be seen around the short man. That was his chance. Spy disguised as the fire spreading specialist and put a hand in his inner pocket. 

"Hey Pyro, need some ammo, pardner?" 

Spy hissed and shook his shoulder. 

Ah merde, not now…!

"Pyro…?" 

Merde!

The Engineer realised something was fishy with the way that his friend was holding his flamethrower. He raised his wrench and struck. Spy's disguised vanished. 

Beep-beep! 

The sentry rotated and the Frenchman felt like a rabbit flashed by a car light moments before impact. He knew he was done for. 

Click. 

Respawn was never pleasant. Not only did it leave a bit of a weird feeling, like a bitter aftertaste of death that your body somehow clings onto, but it also rhymes with defeat. Die and retry, as they say. 

The Frenchman lit a new cigarette and puffed on it aggressively. He was frowning and clenching his jaw. His annoyance was written all over his body and face. 

"Y'alright, pal?" 

Scout had respawned and put a hand on his colleague's shoulder. Spy shot him a murderous glance and wiggled his shoulder away from his hand. 

"Jeez, alright…!" 

The young man made sure his scattergun was reloaded and left the spawn room. Spy waited to see the distance between himself and Scout was large enough that he could tolerate it, and then exited himself. 

Part of his job was not to bump anyone and that day, he made it a point to stand away from everyone, friends or foes. The heat tired him and his failure at sapping a lonely sentry, barely defended, made his mood bitter. 

-- Evening, at the base -- 

"Putain de merde…" 

[Bloddy hell…]

The Frenchman was alone in his room. He had just exited the shower, wearing only a white tanktop and his pyjama trousers. He was standing in his bathroom, facing his mirror, an empty small cream box in his hands. 

What had been bothering him the entire day was the itch. 

He was used to it now. Whenever it was too hot or he sweated, one of his scars, the one on his right shoulder, would trouble him. It was a deep burn mark and the skin had healed up but the new skin wasn't as good as the "normal" one. It looked more transparent and felt different to the touch. But the most annoying thing is that that patch of skin was unable to deal with heat properly. Not only did it hurt when exposed to the sun - the same way a fresh burn would, only less strongly - but it could not possibly sweat or rather, humidity would form underneath a very thin layer of skin. It itched but couldn't be scratched away. 

Spy had been used to it. Whenever it bothered him, he would get a bit of cream there, to hydrate it and cool it down. He tossed the empty cream pot to the bin and got a new one. He opened it and took some of it on his fingers. Raising his eyes, he looked at himself on the mirror. 

The burn mark was large. He could see it when facing the mirror and he knew it spread back on his shoulder blade. Spy was about to put the cream on it when a knock on the door cut him. 

"Go to hell." 

He answered loud enough for whoever was standing there to hear him. 

"Well, I'm standing at its door apparently!" 

The Frenchman recognised that voice and the slight accent. 

Fine… 

He thought. Part of him was annoyed at the interruption. But it was only part of him. He put the cream pot back on the sink and slipped his mask and a dressing gown on. The Frenchman went to the door and opened it. 

"Bushman, how may I help?" 

Obviously, Spy was being sarcastic. 

"I was goin' to ask you the same, now, d'you mind…?" 

The Frenchman rolled his eyes and let his colleague in. The Australian entered and removed his hat. 

"Am I interruptin' somethin'? Do you want me to give you a minute?" 

Sniper was hinting at the fact that the masked man was in his pyjamas quite early.

"Non. It is fine. Just tell me what you want, I have very little patience for games tonight." He coldly answered. 

"Roight, let's sit and have one of your cigs." 

Both men took a seat on the sofa and Spy lit two cigarettes. 

"So, are you going to finally tell me what is it you seek with me?" The Frenchman sounded impatient and mildly annoyed. 

"It's how you behaved today." 

Silence fell for an instant. One of those awkward ones. 

"What about it?" Spy feigned innocence though he very well knew what Sniper was getting at. 

"I've watched you and you didn't seem normal. Also, you didn't sap the sentries as nicely as you usually do. And you got caught a lot more."

"And?" The impatience and boiling rage were very clearly visible on the Frenchman's face.

"And I want to help." 

Spy's eyebrows jumped. He had expected Sniper to tell him that he had been very bad at his job and asking him why. But non. 

"You want… to help?" He repeated. 

"Yeah. What's wrong with you? I've seen you actin' awfully weird, shaking your shoulder every other second as if you had something on it. I'm guessing something's on yer mind." 

The Frenchman's lips pursed up to a faint smile. 

"And you are wrong. Nothing is on my mind. And yes, I have been spectacularly mediocre today. Thank you for noticing."

"Spy, you don't have to take it that way-"

"Oh but I am."

"Spy, look-"

"Are you done?" The Frenchman dryly cut him.

Sniper didn't want to leave. He knew how stubborn and hard-hearted his colleague could be. But he said he would help and he would. He didn't go away from the comfort of his van for nothing. If confronting the masked man didn't work, maybe something else would. 

Sniper raised his hand and about to put it on Spy's right shoulder but the Frenchman slithered away even before the Australian could touch him. 

"Hey… It's only me." 

Spy raised his eyes and saw his friend's earnest face. He sighed.

"Fine. Here is what has been bothering me. But Sniper, one word of this to anyone else and I will make sure it is your last." Spy raised a threatening index finger. 

Sniper smiled softly. 

"Y'know me. I don't talk." 

Spy nodded. It was the force of habit… He put a hand on his dressing gown and pulled it down from his shoulder, revealing the burn mark. 

"Oh, Christ…" 

"I stopped invoking his help a long time ago…" Spy sarcastically answered. 

"Did you see the Doc' for it? Does it hurt a lot?" 

"Medic knows about it but there isn't much him or anyone else can do. I just live with it."

"When did you get it?" 

"A long time ago. I'm used to it. It's just when the temperature gets a bit too high, it itches in an unbearable way. I can't scratch it away." 

"Is there anything you can do to make it itch less?"

"There is a cream that I put. It's not a miracle solution but it lessens the itch and the burning sensation. I was about to put some before you came in." 

"Oh sorry mate, go and do it, I don't want to bother you." 

"Give me an instant." 

The Frenchman disappeared to the bathroom and re-appeared soon after with the small cream jar in his hand. He put the cigarette between his lips and removed the dressing gown before sitting down. Sniper couldn't help but stare. Spy was lean, maybe even a bit slim. His fair skin was beautiful.

"I can help you if you want." 

Spy raised an eyebrow. 

"I mean, surely you can't reach the rest behind your back…?" 

"Why, thank you. I think I will manage." 

"Okay." 

Sniper watched as his friend spread the cream on his shoulder. He massaged slowly, avoiding the tanktop. He hissed now and then, while the Australian tried to imagine how it could feel, the pain, the itch. He also wanted to feel that odd-looking skin below his fingers. But it hurt him. As if Spy wasn't cold-hearted enough, his own body worked to make him more bitter… 

"Spy, you're clearly strugglin'..." 

"Non, I'm not!" The Frenchman was irritated. 

"Hey…?" 

Their eyes met. 

"Let me try." 

Sniper extended his hand and offered his palm. 

"Fine…" 

Spy put the cream pot on it. 

"Makes you very angry this itch, eh?" 

"You cannot imagine how annoying it is." 

"Turn yer back." 

Spy's eyebrow twitched. 

"Nothin' to fear, I'm not the backstabber here…!" 

The Frenchman rolled his eyes and turned. 

"Now, remove yer top." 

"Bushman?!"

"It's only her back! And it'll make it actually easier! Can't put the cream where your top is, now can I?" 

Spy grumbled but obliged and Sniper was now facing the Frenchman's back. It looked like a abstract canvas of scars. Bullet marks, burn marks, cuts… He couldn't see it but the masked man was ashamed. He knew his body was bruised, awfully so. But Sniper's body was too, albeit differently. The man had fought more animals than men so he had more bites and claw marks than bullets or knife cuts.

"Don't hold your shoulders up like that, breathe and relax." 

"Had I been behind your back, you would react the same way, Bushman."

"Fair, but I'm not you. I don't kill from people's back." He spread the cream on the Frenchman's shoulder blade, trying to not push his hand too hard. 

"Non, you shoot them for far away." 

"A kill as clean as yours." 

"Correct. But my job is high risk for a high reward. Yours is more… safe."

"What?! No it's not! Do you know how much I'm bullied by the other bastard of a Spook?!" 

Spy chuckled. 

"Does that mean I am a bastard too?" 

Sniper's eyes raised to Spy's back of his head. The Frenchman turned his head slightly, waiting for his friend to answer. Each second of silence weighed more than the previous one. 

"Nah, no, you're not." 

"What am I then? I, too, am a Spook." 

"Oh yeah you are, no doubt about that… Nah, you're a Spook, but uh… You're fine." 

"Fine?"

Sniper chuckled nervously. 

"Y-you know what I mean…" 

The Australian had covered all the scar with the cream now. He put the lid back on the pot and closed it. 

"Do I?" Spy insisted with a smirk. 

The Australian smiled. 

"Yeah you do. You aren't stupid." 

Sniper was facing Spy's naked back. The Frenchman's shoulders were relaxed and he appreciated the breath of his friend on it. It helped cooling it down. The Australian handed the cream back to the Frenchman, from behind. 

Spy took the cream and Sniper's eyebrows jumped when he realised that he had also grabbed his hand and pulled on it. 

"I wouldn't have opened my door to anyone else." Spy said.

"I… Thanks." 

The Frenchman pulled on his friend's hand more and he felt Sniper's weight shift on the sofa, closer. 

"Non, thank you. I know I can be in a particularly foul mood sometimes. And I make myself hard to approach. Yet you remain." 

Sniper smiled and laced his arm around his friend's torso and pulled him in closer. Spy closed his eyes went Sniper's hug hit inside him. The Australian was hugging him from behind, resting his chin on his left shoulder. 

"Y-yeah. I don't know, I just think that… I mean sometimes you're a bit angry or sad. But you just need someone to be there for ya." 

Spy melted in his friend's arms. He felt the Australian's fingers lace between his. 

"I might sometimes." 

"Nah, you do, really." 

"What makes you say that?" Spy asked. 

"I can't see your face but I'm sure you're…"

"I'm enjoying this more than I can say, oui."

Spy turned his head to look his friend in his eyes. Sniper's pupils were wide and his smile, dreamy. The Frenchman's smiled widened as he pushed his cheek against the Australian's. 

"You should shave those sideburns off."

"In yer dreams. Also, why should I do that?"

"They sting me even through my mask." 

"Remove it and it will sting not through it then!" 

Spy turned his head again to look at his friend. 

"Well, I had to try…!" Sniper said.

"What makes you think that it is just a try?" 

Sniper got confused but saw his friend's hand rise from his lap and his fingers settle around his neck, at the base of his balaclava. 

The Australian never forgot that night.

#tf2 spy #tf2 sniper #sniperspy #sniperxspy

[zarfm]

» • * — ( benjamin wadsworth , cis male , he/him ) . i think i hear underdog by kasabian coming from apartment 2104. doesn’t balthazar ros live there ?? i heard they are a twenty-two year old chef from chicago , but they’ve been living in the apartments for two years . they come across a bit - wrathful and - rude , but they also seem like they could be + compassionate and + hardworking . whenever i see them , i think of denim jackets, guilty cigarettes, searching for a hug in a fist fight. oh , and don’t forget to follow them on instagram at tsar.zar ! ooc . ally, 22, she/her, est

hello y’all!!! i’ve been eying this rp for so long but have been. waiting until my mental state was Ready Enough to do it justice ! anyways, hello, my name is ally, i live in canada, i just got a job at walmart and i just learned how to french braid. those are my two biggest achievements during quarantine. anyways, this here is zar, he’s an emotional mess, please enjoy. there’s a quick novel-length introduction under the cut, but for more details, please click the following links. like for me to beg you for plots on discord !!!

full statistics. full biography. pinterest. wanted connections.

tw scars, emotional neglect, child abuse, physical abuse, 

statistics. 

full name. balthazar eduardo ros. nickname(s). zar. occupation. chef. age. twenty-two. date of birth. november 8th, 1997. nationality. american. ethnicity. mexican, iranian, english, ukrainian. orientation. bisexual/queer. gender & pronouns. cis male; he/him/his. religion. atheist.

height. 5’7”. weight. 145 lbs. eye color. brown. hair color + style. dark brown, curly, either styled haphazardly or pushed over his forehead. dominant hand. right-handed. distinguishing features. the scars on his face, that smirk, pretty boy eyes, and his plethora of tattoos.

biography. 

had a... pretty shitty childhood honestly. sure, both of his parents were wealthy, but his mother, who he lived with at first in los angeles, was not only constantly busy but also emotionally neglectful. when his nanny from basically birth to age three was fired without any notice to him, for example, he cried for days. and his mother’s solution was to only keep the same nanny for a month so zar wouldn’t get attached. 

he started to act out in school, because he, y’know, wasn’t getting any affection? and when therapy proved to be futile (meaning none of the therapists gave his mom the answer she wanted), she did the logical thing: blackmail your son’s father to taking him in or else she’d tell the whole world about their affair, and then put your six year old son on a plane to his father’s place alone without warning him or even telling him that he was going to live with his father. 

he still has nightmares about the flight attendant pulling him onto the plane while his mom walked away, impassive. no biggie. 

TO MAKE THINGS EVEN BETTER he was thrown straight into the lion’s den, living with his wealthy father and his picture-perfect family with five sons in chicago. of course, zar didn’t know that this man was his father until he was thirteen years old, but his stepmother figured it out almost immediately. and his brothers were all... spoiled brats, so she basically let them do whatever they wanted with him. i won’t get into specifics but imagine if you lived with five of your school bullies. 

it’s also around them he finally looked his mother up on facebook only to find that she was now married and pregnant with another kid. he’d been replaced. this is high-quality parenting 101, folks. 

food became... something of an important escape, for zar. he stopped eating with his family when he was about eight (it was basically a game of see how much we can abuse zar while the parents pretend he doesn’t exist), and started making his own little dinners. he associated dinners with the family meals he always saw on tv, portraying something he so yearned for; love, and family. to zar, cooking himself dinner each night became a way of practicing self-love. 

he also developed a habit of picking up strays; he fed one stray dog, she curled up in his lap and slept, and he was hooked forever. it was the most affection he’d ever received. no matter how long it took, be it hours or months, no matter how angry or antisocial the stray seemed, he’d do anything he could to win their trust. (in fact, he kind of liked the angry ones; they always turned out to be the sweetest.) 

he still acted out at school, had been diagnosed with conduct disorder and then oppositional defiant disorder. maybe he bit a psychiatrist or two who knows. and when he discovered who his father was and that everyone had been lying to him forever, well, he saw no need to hold back, now. he fought back. 

he became a bona fide Bad Boy, passed from boarding school to boarding school, expelled for a laundry list of reasons. public drunkenness, assault, sucking the housemaster’s son’s dick in the showers. his parents tried military school; he spat in his drill sergeant’s eye. 

finally, for his junior year, he was just put into public school in chicago. there, he was lucky enough to stumble upon the hospitality program, there, and fell back in love with cooking. this was the first thing in a long time he realized he could really do. sure, in an attempt to avoid his brothers he was now living in the attic, but still. life was looking up. 

with a shining letter of recommendation from his instructor and a killer portfolio, zar was able to get into the culinary institute of new york. it was during his senior year that he moved into ten 23, and he decided to stay for a while. this apartment is probably the first place he thinks of as a home. 

tl;dr abused son becomes a bad boy, learns to love via food and animals, moves to new york for school and career, 

personality. 

burnt marshmallow: smoky and crispy on the outside, ooey gooey on the inside. 

but theres a lot of smoky/crispy; he can be very rude and blunt, and he still has a hair-trigger temper. he’s working on it, though. 

honestly, he fits right in as a chef. even at the four star restaurant he works at, gideon’s, the entire cooking staff still swear like sailors. 

to keep his temper intact, he smokes (he hasn’t even tried to quit) and he also does amateur mma in his free time. 

sarcastic af. please someone tell him to shut the fuck up. 

still will stop everything if he sees a stray. the only thing that will maybe dissuade him is work, and even then he’ll show up a little late after he makes sure the dog has water. keeps cheap doggie bowls, a water bottle, and little ziplocs full of kibble on his person at all times. 

volunteers at the animal haven weekly. he still loves all the animals there. 

he also has four dogs and one cat that thinks she’s a dog. does ten 23 not allow pets? doesn’t matter. he still has illegal pets. rip his roommates. 

if he wants to make you feel better, he will cook for you. if he thinks you’re eating like shit, he will cook for you. if you’re hungry, he will cook for you. again, food is his way of showing love, and underneath it all he is a very loving person. 

vegan, but. has to handle non-vegan things as part of his job. but still a big vegan. 

horny 24/7. bi but only tops in emergencies. again, rip his roommates. 

never really had a real relationship because he. gets jealous enough as it is. is constantly paranoid that people will leave him. 

mom friend underneath it all. but like... an angry mom friend??? like he’ll nag you and tell you you shouldn’t have hooked up with your ex you basically asked for this but he’s doing this while making you cookies and peanut butter hot chocolate. 

lowkey highkey hates himself and although he pretends otherwise he has the self esteem of a thirteen year old at their first high school dance. 

#ten23.intro #tw scars #tw emotional neglect #tw child abuse #tw physical abuse

[tsegss]

Chapter 5

masterlist

author’s note: sorry this one has taken so long!! this week has been super busy!! hope you like it and as always send feedback (:

word count: 2,087

“So you slept with him or you think you slept with him?” Jimmy asked, having some difficulty trying to follow my story.

“I definitely slept with him, I just don’t remember it.”

“Okay. okay. I get it.” He started, as his hands moved, connecting the dots visually as well as in his mind. “And now you’re going on a date with him.” I nodded, confirming everything he had just said.

“Are you excited?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “But, I do need your help.”

Jimmy still just stared at me blankly.

“Like how do I even approach this situation?” I asked, walking over to where he was, stretched out on top of my bed, before sitting down on the edge of it.

“Aren’t you supposed to ask you girl friends about this, like Molly or Stella or someone.” He said as he propped himself up on his forearms.

“Yeah, and I will.” I rolled my eyes. “I just wanna know what a guy thinks during this situation, like expectations and stuff.

“Expectations?” He questioned. I nodded. “I don’t know.” He shook his head.

“You are actually no help.”

“What do you want me to say?” He asked incredulously.

Huffing, I practically threw myself on the bed. This was not going at all as I planned. Jimmy almost seemed mad that I was asking his advice on what to do on my date. But, to me it wasn’t just a date. Richard was a guy I had been crushing on for a while. I wanted things with him to go well. This was important.  

“Sorry.” He said, his tone softening as he began sensing the tension between the two of you. “It’ll be great.”

I gave him a soft smile. I could see that he was tying and that was enough, for now at least. “Do you wanna order sushi?” I asked, trying to move the conversation in different, lighter direction.

But even with that the night still seemed weird, just sort of awkward between us. There were things that neither of us were saying. There was a little bit more space between us on the couch, and even after the movie we had watched, and though it was almost midnight and while usually Jimmy would just crash on my couch, he decided to go home. And that’s when I knew, really, that something was off.

I guess sometime during the movie I had fallen asleep and when I woke up, startled, expecting to see his familiar face next to me on the couch. But, he wasn’t there. The TV had been turned off, all the dishes were in the sink, and there was a blanket placed upon me. The only thing missing was him.

On the way to my room, I checked to see if he had moseyed his way into the guest room to sleep, having done that a few times before, but nope. There was nobody in there. Glancing at my phone, I checked for a text, saying that he was leaving or something but that wasn’t there either.

The rest of the night I couldn’t sleep. My body was exhausted, but my mind was restless. Whether it was the nerves about my date or the awkwardness from Jimmy I couldn’t shake, I didn’t know.

Thankfully, however, the morning and my day at work had gone pretty smoothly, and now I had about two hours to get ready for my date.

And, damn did I look good. It took nearly the whole two hours, but it was worth it. Hair blown out to perfection. A smokey eye that was just smokey enough that it brought out the natural green hue of my eyes. A nude color on my lips that complemented everything else, without overpowering it. I was ready.

And, as I held the soft pink dress up against my body one last time in front the mirror, I knew for sure. The dress tied in the front, showing just a hint of cleavage. Usually, I didn’t wear as soft of a pink color but since it was summer and I actually had a tan, I decided to go for it. Pairing it with a gold studded, open toed heel, really made it the perfect summer outfit. But, as I glanced at the clock, I realized I only had five minutes until he would be here, and with the realization that this was happening, now, I started freaking out.

I heard his knock at the door, but I didn’t want to just rush over, so I grabbed my favorite lip gloss and my purse, before opening the door. He looked great. His navy blue dress pants were fitted to a tee, there was no doubt they were custom made for him. He paired it with a simple white button shirt, that was a few buttons unbuttoned, and a matching navy blue jacket. I smiled at him, trying to match the one on his face.

“You look incredible.” He gushed. “Are you all set to go?” I nodded before we left, walking into the  

Richard was a gentleman, there was no qualms about it. From the way he held doors open for me or how he pushed my chair in as we sat down for dinner. It was sweet- a nice surprise from the usual meet ups I had had with guys. I let him choose the restaurant, and it was nice, I just wasn’t familiar with it.  Usually, and unless I had to, I usually stayed in SoHo. It was where I worked, where I lived, where all my friends lived, where all my spots were- theres as no real reason to leave.

It was a big restaurant, but it didn’t feel big. Maybe it was the candle light that made it feel intimate. But, some how it felt like it was only the two of us, all the other voices and faces around us seemed to blur, and all I could focus on was him.

“So.” Richard started, after taking a swig of his red wine. “Tell me something about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?” I laughed nervously.

“Anything.” He said, seeming genuinely intrigued. “I see you everyday in the elevator, but I don’t know anything about you.”

“Okay. Well, I work in media.”

“Do you like it?” He asked.

“Yeah, I really do.” I smiled. “Do you like your job?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation between the two of us flowing.

“You know, I always think I don’t.” He began, while I semi regretted asking him the question noticing the negative beginning to his answer. “But then I’ll go on vacation or take some time off and by the end I’m always itching to go back.”  

I smiled again, nodding. I was trying to picture him at work, but then it hit me- I didn’t actually know was he did for a living. “What do you do, exactly?” I asked sheepishly.

“I’m a lawyer.” He chuckled, at my shyness. “When you caught me the other night I had just finished meeting with a client. You don’t know how happy I was to see you.”

I just stared at him blankly, not quite sure what to say.

“Let me guess.” Richard said, his hazel eyes looking exceptionally golden under the lighting of the restaurant and a devilish grin upon his lips. “You don’t remember.”

I looked down, shaking my head at the embarrassment. “I’m sorry.” I tried. “I was just really drunk, I wish I remembered it.”

He waved it off. “Happens to the best of us.” He said so nonchalantly. He wasn’t mad. There was no drama, no fights. It was refreshing to be talking to a guy and not be dealing with any of the usual bullshit that usually came with my relationships.

Thankfully after that conversation between us never lulled, even when the food was placed in front of our place settings, we still found a way to keep things going. And, man, as time went on he just got more and more handsome. Now, I really wish I remembered having sex with him.

It had all the makings to be a great date, and really, it was. The only thing that could make it better would be if he kissed me at the end of the night.

I watched as he paid the check, I tried to say something when it first came but he waved me off telling me that he had it, just sort of studying the features of his face that I had never noticed before. Like, the small scar on his neck, right underneath his ear. Or, the sole freckle on his forehead that you might miss if you were just glancing at him, as it was only a few shades darker that his actual skin tone.

“Are you ready to go?” He asked. I smiled and nodded, before standing up, and walking out of the restaurant and I knew he was right behind me. I could feel his presence- but not in a bad way. It was comforting.

The cab ride back to our building was quiet, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. When something came up, we talked about it, but I didn’t feel the need to constantly be making conversation. It was peaceful.

It was crazy, this was only our first date but already I felt like I could be myself with him. In passing, I had always thought he was stuffy and proper, but he was the opposite- easy going, funny, just a person I wanted to be around.

The elevator ride was quiet, especially as I noticed the look of one woman as both Richard and I walked into the elevator at the same, laughing. She knew what we were doing, and I knew what she thought. He was older, not old, but older. But, as I looked up at him, he smiled, and that put any fear or hesitation about him or his age to bed.

As we walked down the hallway to my door, his hand laced with mine. It was sweet, innocent, and it made me blush. He let go just as we got to my door, the both of us stopping in front of it.

“Well, this is me.” I said, glancing down at the floor quickly.

“I had a really great time.”

“Me too.” I answered immediately and honestly. “We should do this again.”

He nodded. As he looked at me, our eyes connecting. I could tell that he wanted to kiss me but didn’t know if it was okay. It was, of course, it’s not like this was uncharted territory for us. He had already seen me naked. So, I kissed him. I think it took him by surprise. It was a good kiss. It didn’t ignite fireworks in me, but rather was like a slow burning fire.

It was the kind of kiss that makes you want more.

And, with that I said goodnight before walking into my apartment. The rest of the night, though, I couldn’t help smiling, through everything.

“How was your date with what’s his face?” Jimmy asked, annoyingly.

“Shut up.” I quickly responded. “You know his name.”

“I know.”  

“What do you have against him? Seriously? “ I questioned.

“Nothing.” He breathed.

“Well, you must have some problem with him, you always seemed annoyed when I bring him up or have some sort of attitude when you bring him up in conversation.” I practically yelled across the room. I couldn’t help it. I was heated. I really like Richard, and I couldn’t see why Jimmy would have such a problem with that.

“Sorry, I didn’t know it was making you upset. I just, don’t think this guy is good enough.”

“Well, good for you that it’s not up to you to make those decisions.” I snapped back at him.

“You’re right.” And, with that, I pressed play resuming the show we were we watching. But it didn’t matter what was on the screen, I couldn’t get my Jimmy/Richard drama out of my mind.

Even though Jimmy had said everything was alright, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something definitely wasn’t. The person that stood before me wasn’t the one that I knew. And, while I thought it was jealousy, it wasn’t like he had ever acted this way before with any other guy that I had dated. But, instead of fixating on it I turned my attention to Bachelor in Paradise, which we were really watching more for Jimmy than for me. But, he would never admit that. Ever.

#jimmy vesey #jimmy vesey imagines #New York Rangers #NHL imagines #hockey imagines #hockey fanfiction #series #nowhere else #nowhere else fic #hockey fic #jimmy vesey fic

[carmineclock]

Dead Man Blues

Doc Scratch 4:28 PM

Its been an hour or so since your big meeting with the others, hopefully things have cooled down somewhat since then. You'd like to think you kept it quite calm and tasteful, despite your overall annoyance. Most of this time you spent updating your journal. You really have to do something about all these journals, its not safe to keep so many. And yet... With a sigh you set your pen aside. Time to do yet more damage control. You still think theres a chance you can get through to Trace, though perhaps you might be as bad as Clover in taht regard. Hoping is one thing, some men just dont change. Still, you make your way down to the holding cells. Perhaps your chat with Trace just needed a more dire backdrop. A broken arm and a cold concrete room with metal bars could be just what the Doctor ordered. Hoo hoo.

Trace 9:01 PM

Dire backdrop is an understatement. Your arm is long swollen, wrapped carefully in your shirt to give it some stability. You know a bit of first aid, but that is surprisingly difficult when it's your own arm and the only means you got available are what you have on your person. The new wound on your chest is just as aching, red and bloody with a hint of gold. You may have managed to pass out for a few hours, but you could hardly call that sleep, especially with that nightmare. Her body, stabbed and strung up - not Aradia's, but Nepeta's. A message to the one closest to her - Fin, angryy setting fire to your very self. The images linger, even long after you finally come to. And then the nightmare after you wake up - Snowman and how she dragged Fin in for your mutual punishment. How she used your wedding rings to violently erase the tattoo on your chest marking your love and relationships. When Scratch enters, you're wide awake, as much as you loathe it. Your mind still feels foggy and worlds away, definitely not prepared for a talk with him.

Doc Scratch 2:28 AM

You study him as you walk in, taking note of the remnants of Snowmans lesson. As graceful as she is deadly, as always. The gold makes a nice addition in your opinion. You take a chair from the nearby table and move it to in front of the bars in silence. After you moment you sit backwards with your arms resting over the back of the chair sit down normally, like a gentleman. This isnt an interrogation, or a call for confession, its just a conversation. "So, lets have it out, Trace. Whats this Droog business really all about. Dont you realize what youve cost yourself?"

Trace 9:51 AM

It never not feels like an interrogation with Scratch. You look up and watch him as he gets comfortable, then stare off to the side when he speaks. The muscles in your jaw tense, and when you reply, your hoarse and cracking voice clearly shows your exhaustion and pain. "Sir.. Do we really need to do this now? I'm not exactly the best for a talk right now and I'm really not too keen on netting me another scar for mouthing off..." Of course, you're aware he wouldn't have it any other time then when you're broken and at your wit's end.

Doc Scratch 11:27 AM

"If you're worried about your mouth, then I suggest you keep a civil tongue. I'm not concerned, though. Theres a kind of freeing honesty that cement walls and metal bars bring that can be found nowhere else. At this point, I would rather you speak freely, its just us now." Just the two of you. Man to man, or whatever Trace can be considered. Its an interesting thought, his classification may change as his DNA did. You'll have to look into that later. For now, your eyes are solely on him. His broken body, his pain. "Tell me true, Trace. I want to hear it. All of it. I wont punish you for speaking truthfully when asked. Its lies I hate the most."

Trace 3:03 PM

You give him a sour smile. You'll believe it when you see it. "What this is about, you really gotta ask?" Feels like you already talked plenty enough about this, and you doubt you got anything else to say that could placate him. Only plenty of frustration that has built up over everything, and you're way too tired to filter your words. Lets see who of the two of you is going to regret that more. "I.. am sorry that any of this ever reflected back on you, Nepeta or any of the Felt. It should never have been anything but personal. Which, I realize...  there's not really a personal in this outfit, is there?" you begin, actually honestly. "This... it was nothing more than a brawl between two guys heated up on a little too much emotion. But then this bastard.. abducted Nepeta, tortured and abused her, and then me. Cause he was pissed he got decked in the face. And he kept going, provoking us again and again, paralyzing her, seducing another, hurting us, as a whole, again and again. How could you expect me to do just nothing? You've been sending a signal, to them and to us, that they can just pick members of this very house off the street and do with us what they want." You try to sit up properly to face him better, wincing from the pain shooting through your arm again. "How has this not been a war yet for fuck's sake? How come Snowman can take the god damn white queen hostage, but we sit idle when the Crew come to pick us apart bit by bit? How come Snowman can take the god damn white queen hostage, but we sit idle when the Crew come to pick us apart, bit by bit?"

Doc Scratch 6:17 PM

You sit in silence, letting him say what hes going to say. You dont blame him for his views, and if anything, this lashing out may prove beneficial to you. No matter what happens from now on, Droog will have the reminder in the back of his mind. Certainly he wont forget it. Idly, you pull at the edge of your gloves, nodding every so often through his heated speech. Well, hes partially right on certain fronts. It really should have been war by now, whether you wanted it to be or not. The crew have gotten bolder and bolder, could it be your fault? Through inaction, have you allowed the crew more purchase on this slippery slope than you'd intended? "To start off, I'll answer your question. The reason it has not been war yet is because we did not have the numbers to win a war." You let out a silent sigh. "In truth, I'd hoped to collect our full set before provoking the Crew into an all out battle. I dont know how many wars you've seen, Trace, but I've seen enough to know that as much as you and all the others may want to go to war, young men that you are, we are not in a favored position for it. The Crew will always have the love of the common people, they built this city, and those that reside here are their kin. They have the better defenses, and most importantly, they have magic. True magic, the likes of which I cant begin to match." You pause to stand, arms folded behind your back as you pace, speaking more to the open air than to Trace now.

"Snowman is an army in her own right, its folly to compare anything or anyone to her. This little brawl you've had with Diamonds, its beyond reason and a waste of resources besides. If you were provoked into action, then you're a fool, because thats what Diamonds wanted from you. But more than that, you've allowed him to take the higher ground. The city is going to bleed now, I'll see to that, but you've allowed Diamonds to make it personal. And a man on a revenge mission doesnt care for the ruin he causes. I did not take what I've taken of this city for the last fourty years just to see it burned by some self righteous bastard in an Armani tuxedo." Another sigh, louder this time. You rub your temple, pausing in your pacing to look back at him. "Provoking. Abusing. Hurting us. All of us. You're right on that front. What one of us suffers, we all suffer. It was my mistake. I took this for play, the usual violence between men at odds, petty revenge for the sake of sleeping better." “But no, this has gotten well and truly out of hand. And its too late to go back. You’ve signed us up for a a war we were not prepared for, against an enemy whose eyes you’ve spit in, and now you say it should have been sooner. Hmph. Maybe you’re right. I dont hear the heckling of those underneath me, but it would only make sense that you do. So, then, its to be war. Do you have any plans for this war you’ve longed for, Trace? Any soldiers for the army? Connections to supplies and trades? Or did you expect that all you had to do was start it, and that I would finish it?”

Trace 8:05 PM

Well, obviously, you don't have any of these. You didn't plan for a war, let alone prepare for it. This was a selfish and careless act of revenge and he knows that. You're slowly starting to realize that you feel more bewildered about Nepeta's reaction than the prospect of war. This life has already been hell and you're tired of playing along. How little you care about Scratch's achievements and goals. Still, that is not an answer to give your boss and, unfortunately, owner. You close your eyes and think. The least you owe the others is to try  And if you've doomed all of you to die and burn, maybe you can at least rip a big hole into the crew. "..How much longer is he gonna have the favor of the common people if he's burning them? If he lashes out without remose and care, use it against them. With fires burning purple, it's not hard to besmirch their name. You have sucked the people dry under threat of violence and torture if they don't pay up. If you lack manpower, offer then alternatives. The crew is torching Felt warehouses. If it's supplies we lack, take theirs. We may be lacking time to prepare, but so do they. It's not too late to gain the upper hand."

Doc Scratch 1:40 PM

You stand and listen as he rattles off his ideas. Theyre not all without merit, but theyre naive, blunt, though its something you've come to expect. How could he possibly have known what he was getting himself, and the rest of the Felt, into. "Hes not burning them, he's burning us. True, it was careless, but Droog wont stay careless. Hes distraught over his daughters death, but he wont stay that way forever. He has as at least as much of a tactical mind as I do, he was built for war." You run a hand over your head, eyes closed in thought, trying not to imagine plumes of purple smoke eating their way through the Felt manor. Purple and green clash too much, it would be hideous. "I have ways of retaking the people, though its not the dregs of society that I'm worried about. All  I need is a shiny coin and a loaf of bread to win their loyalty back. We need to spread out. We need bases of operation throughout the city, safe places that arent glaring green mansions on a hilltop. If the Crew want war, we have to play their game." Yes, this is sounding more like a plan every passing second. You almost get carried away, before remembering where you are. This is no time to get caught up in nostalgia. "You know, it would be much easier planning if we had our trackers back. You and Fin have skills that will be of paramount importance coming very soon. Yet, I hesitate to bring you into the fold. Why should I trust that you can stay your hand? That your loyalty to this organization will trump your lust for revenge? You've proven the exact opposite is the case. Give me a reason why I shouldn't just let you sit down here and rot until the war is over with."

Trace 7:47 PM

Hey, can't blame you for trying, considering your situation. The night in here didn't exactly allow you to do your homework. Neither does it help with the next question. You look at him, tired as you are, trying to muster up the energy to defend yourself. Can't say you're, heh, dying to prove your loyalty to him, but wasting away down here in this cell doesn't seem like a solution either. "I... can't live without this organization. And neither can those that I care about. I know that my actions didn't exactly show it, but I want to do what I can to help it succeed and keep us all safe where possible." You'd like to assure him that your thirst for revenge is well-quenched - and for now it is. But should anything happen to Nepeta and Fin in this war you've apparently summoned, things could get ugly really fast. You won't tell him that. He's probably well aware. You'd like to not have to come to that though. "You gave the reason yourself. We're good at what we can do, and without us, this is gonna be much harder to deal with. Sure, it's a risk for you, but I'd be the one out there, risking my neck. It's my blood they're after. I'm not expecting your trust. I'm sure if you send me out there again, you'll be keeping a close eye on me, until I'll maybe have proven myself someday. Not sure what else I can give you besides my word, and I don't think that's much worth to you right now."

Doc Scratch 1:35 PM

"Hmm, its true enough." You sit back down, leaning back as you think. If you were a lesser man, you might consider handing him over to the crew and suing for peace. That would only be a short term fix, though, and probably cause more problems than itd solve. Not to mention youre loathe to lose one piece of the set. "In truth, Trace, I dont blame you for your actions. Not fully. Droog brought his suffering upon himself. We're just lucky he was good enough to burn all the  evidence." "At the very least you'll be going back to work soon, though as far away from Fin as possible. Perhaps Crowbar can take up the handle of your keeper. I cant have a mad dog running around doling out a childs version of vigilante justice." "For now, though, youll enjoy these accommodations. Im just having your room prepared."

Trace 1:48 PM

You should probably feel relieved at that response, could have gone much worse, after all. But the feeling of anxiety and dread keeps lingering. "I guess that's only fair." You lean back as well, which sends another pain shooting through your arm. A quiet hiss escapes you. Cursed thing. "Before you leave.. with all due respect, not trying to tell you what to do, but I don't think you'd find having me lose my arm or my life to an infection practical..."

Doc Scratch 1:55 PM

You were aleady on your way out when he makes his request. Now you pause, and turn slightly. "Does it hurt? Good. Its supposed to. Someone will be down soon to tend to it. Think on your mistakes, and how you can do better in the future." With that, you take your leave, closing and locking the door behind you.

#logs

[ursulaismymiddlename]

Blurb prompt: "Stop! Someone will see!" "No they wont Doll, theres a solid wall between us and the party" "Ok smart ass, someone will hear us then", he grins at you as he unbuckles his belt; "Nope, guess again Doll, your mouth is gonna be too full to make any noise".

"Quit it, Buck. They're gonna see us," you giggled against your alpha's lips, his breath sweet and heady with Asgardian mead and the spicy scent of rut less than a week away. He had you pulled you from the mission success party in the common room to a dark side office, his hands rucking up your skirt as he slipped his mouth down your jaw and neck."Doll, there's a wall between us an them," he countered, gripped your hips roughly to rock his clothed erection along your soft panties, already starting to darken with your slick. A coaxing, lascivious purr escaped his plush lips as he nipped at the swell of your breast. "Trust me, omega. No one's gonna see us."You were already shivering, spreading your thighs to let him slide his knee between them. But you had enough of your wits still about you to roll your eyes. "Fine, smartass. They'll hear us then. You know half of them have enhanced hearing."Bucky's hurried movements slowed, hand slipping from the fabric bunched at your hips to curl around your chin. His lust blown eyes raked over your face and his chuckle was dark and thrilling, voice rough. "Think again, sweetheart. You been teasin me with that pouty red mouth'a yours all night. And I'm gonna keep it nice and full so they won't hear a thing."There was no hiding the fresh rush of slick that seeped out onto your thighs. Bucky's nostrils flared, mouth tugging into a smirk as he reached to undo his belt. A pleasant, hazy surprise overtook his face when you reached your hands to take over the task. Jeans undone, you reached in to cup and stroke along his cock, reveling in the hiss and licking your lips slowly. "Mmm.. I've wanted a taste of this all night, Alpha."This drew a growl from him and soon you were on your knees, dragging his jeans and boxers halfway down his thighs. One strong hand fisted your hair carefully as the metal one stroked lazily at his cock. His dark gazed admired your submissive position as he stroked his head along your lips, smiling sharp when you suckled his already leaking tip and kitten licked the slit there."Such a good little omega," Bucky rumbled, pleased and scratching at your scalp. "Y'know exactly how your Alpha likes it. Gonna take my cock so good, yeah?"You nodded, licking your lips again before taking him slowly into your mouth, tongue massaging at the thick vein underneath as you went. He was the first to break eye contact, just for an instant, as he shuddered and groaned, thighs shaking a bit. His metal hand pressed into the wall above you for support as the other cradled your head. And you were rewarded with a husky "Fuck, omega. Just like that. So good for me."You preened a little under the praise before starting to work in earnest. Just as he said, you knew exactly what he liked and took pleasure in how quickly you had him huffing and biting at his bottom lip to stifle his moans. His hips started rocking, fucking shallow into your mouth, fueling the throb between your own legs. And it was about the time you were reaching to cup and knead his sack that you felt a growing thickness at your lips.A low growl tore from him and he was suddenly dragging your mouth off his cock and hauling you to your feet to kiss you hard, rutting at your thigh and smearing your saliva and his pre-cum there."Fuck, omega.. baby.." Bucky groaned into your mouth, dragging you toward the unadorned desk. His voice was rough and his scent thick with a spike in pheromones. "Thought I could hold off, but you looked so goddamn good on your knees for me and just knowin they could walk in... shit, darlin, omega.. gonna let me knot you? Gonna be a sweet little thing and let me fill you up right?""Yes, Alpha," you nodded frantically into his kisses. "Fuck yes, please. Need your knot. Want you to come deep inside me.."With a possessive growl, he spun you to face the desk, bending you over and flipping your skirt up over your ass to knead your soft plump cheeks a little rough. His hand slid down to cup your sex, making you mewl gently as he pushed the crotch of your panties aside and gathered your slick on his flesh fingers to swipe along his cock. Then he sank himself into you urgently, making you shudder and moan.As if remembering his earlier promise, he slid metal fingers up your spine to press into your mouth and muffle your noises as he started to thrust with wild abandon. You suckled and moaned and sobbed quietly in pleasure and relief around the digits as he pounded into, making your whole body shake beneath him. It wasn't long before the tell tale catch of his growing knot was driving you even closer to your own release along with his murmured praises."Ah fuck, omega. You feel so good," he cooed into the curve of your neck. His teeth scraping along your bonding glad and the scar he'd left there some months ago. "You're gonna come with me aren't ya, sugar?"You nodded, mewling your agreement around his fingers as he kept up his deliciously brutal pace. He rumbled, proud and primal. "Gonna milk the cum right outta me, you want it so bad, don'tcha?"Something in the sound you made had him pulling his fingers from your mouth, gripping your hips hard as you started babbling. "Yes, yes! Oh fuck, Bucky.. Alpha yes! Want you to cum inside me. Knot me good. Ah! Ah, fuck, want you to fill me with your pups.""Ah, shit, honey.. omega, fuck.." His moan turned into a feral growl as his knot caught in your tightening walls and he sank his teeth into your bonding gland again. The hot spill of his seed filling you in thick spurts dragged you over the edge with him and you somehow managed to stifle the noise in your fist.The two of you remained motionless aside from your heaving chests and the twitch of Bucky's cock as continued to spill."Ah shit," he breathed quietly, a bit of laughter to his voice, tension obviously relieved. "Fuck, baby.. I'm sorry. This.. this position was not well thought out for knotting.""The location either," you murmured, though you were still pleasantly warm and dreamy."Hmmmm," was his purr of agreement as he settled himself back over you, chest to your back, nuzzling and licking at his teeth print at the crook of your neck. "Might not be locked too long, since my ruts aways off. If it gets uncomfortable let me know and I'll think of somethin."You nodded, resting your cheek on the desktop and taking no small amount of pleasure in the feel of his warm seed resting inside you, imagining the day when it would make your belly grow round with Bucky's beautiful, perfect pups. His sweet nuzzling and gentle rumble at your back lulled you several moments, letting you relish the tenderness he often lavished upon you while waiting out his knot. You were nearly asleep when you heard the door to the office open and Bucky hunkered low against you with a warning growl."Hey, Buck," Steve's somewhat slurred voice carried through the room as you and your mate both twisted to look at him. "Thor's bringin out more mead. Want so-- Oh!""Yeah, oh, Rogers," Bucky snarled above you. "You so drunk your nose is runnin, can't smell what's goin on in here?""Jesus, sorry," Steve backpedaled, inching for the door. "I didn't.. I'm really sorry."Then, as if suddenly remembering any manners, he put his hands over his eyes like a school kid before turning and hightailing it out of the room."What says Barnes," you heard Thor's booming voice ask from the hallway. Then Steve's in an uneasy grumble. "He's, uh, a little tied up at the moment. C'mon.""Goddamn punk," Bucky scowled as he settled against you once more. "I swear ta God we ain't namin any'a our pups after that jackass.""You'd name 'em all after him if you could," you laughed, gripping his hand fondly as he wrapped his arms around you to snuggle close.He answered with his own deep chuckle and dropped a kiss on your nape. "Yeah, I s'pose you're right, doll."Prompted by @angryschnauzer@abovethesmokestacks @cuddlememarvelous @ryverpenrad @crazinessgraveyardsandcartoons @boogiewoogiebuglegal @misshyen @erisjade @heavenlyhavok @mermaidarya @captains-girl2016

[winterywitch]

i'm sorry to bother you but i've seen you talk about desiderius (spelling?) of the sea and i'm really curious to know more about ?

your spelling is correct! but omg dont worry this is SO not a bother, i love talking about my ocs kgjhfgkghh

this is gonna be kinda disjointed its really just a list of relevant facts about him:

well basically - desiderius is one of the five four godkings of the diamond continent, he rules a beautiful seaside kingdom with a big Mermaid Aesthetic to it. in fact he’s called “the mermaid king” by a lot of people, which was at first painful, humiliating and mortifying for some reason*, but these days he’s embraced it.

afterall its a pretty name and there isnt much he can do to stop people from calling him names... well, not much he can do that wouldn’t make him a tyrant, haha! not that he hasn’t committed a fairly... seemingly-tyrannical act**, bloody and terrifying

hes known as a charming, gorgeous man who loves parties and socializing!! ^ o ^ hes also known to like. REALLY get around, to a degree where he’s kind of made fun of for it by his coworkers. it makes him feel worse than he’s actively aware of but like yknow hes good!! shallow party guy and whatnot

rip underneath that though he’s severely depressed and its not unheard of for him to just spend a whole day in bed doing nothing, not even bathing or eating

uhhhhhhhhh suits of armor make him very anxious*** to the point that he jumps and startles very badly if he sees one unexpectedly or out of the corner of his eyes. someone actually WEARING one makes him breathless and run out of charming, cute words to say

hes kind of a dumbass, hes naturally drawn to mystery and danger and he gives people the benefit of the doubt WAAAY more than he should.

there is a terrible guilt weighing on him****

alright so lets get down to the Nitty Gritty of some of this stuff

* - tw child abuse

** - tw death/murder/execution

*** - tw child abuse, csa, rape, etc

**** - tw csa

* basically what happened was one day a kid broke into the palace. nobody really knew how, but they supposed it had to do with the fact that desiderius doesnt keep actual armored guards around, but rather he prefers witches to protect him. this kid was sorta just wandering around in awe of the place, not necessarily stealing anything, but he happened to walk in on desiderius changing clothes.

he didnt see anything inappropriate for a kid like desiderius wasn’t [sandy voice] In The Nude but his bare back was visible and so were the long dark lines adorning it. the kid didnt know any better and thought “hm ocean + mermaid aesthetic, thjis guy has lines on his back... THEYRE GILLS!!!”

and so began the rumor that he is some sort of half-aquatic god, and people started calling him the mermaid king and referring to his gills. he knew exactly what they meant and it was all so painfully embarrassing because what they all didnt know was, those were scars he got as a young boy/teen, not as punishment but rather as part of his old, growing-senile father’s plan to prepare him for the throne, which was to put him through unspeakable sorts of pain to the point that he wouldnt cry or yell anymore.

** desiderius, the moment he was made the official king, had every single one of his father’s old guard executed. no one really understood what that was about, but the incident was covered up so well and the public was so encouraged into silence that people rarely actually made a public fuss about it. its odd because these days they all know him as such a pleasant, generous king who would never hurt a fly

*** as part of that plan i mentioned earlier, desiderius was beaten, psychologically tortured and sexually assaulted by many of his father’s acting guards as a young teenager, which obviously had a disastrous effect on his mind and personality, it seemingly changed him altogether from a quiet, modest but very intelligent boy into a too-charming, attention-seeking (though never rudely, never TOO attention-seeking) and charismatic little boy-king.

he grew up too fast in the wrong ways, and no one really saw anything wrong with it because no one knew what was going on. his father knew, and he was actually quite pleased with the results, because the rituals didnt seem to blunt his wit or make him weaker.

he got WAY too good at seeming like everything was okay, to the point that his older brother pastor, and pastor’s very young teacher/aide/advisor, arcane (long, ableist, neglectful and abusive story), were completely clueless about it. arcane even HATED the young desiderius for his seemingly tall ego, his flirty affects, his apparent prioritizing of charisma and socializing over actually ruling a country, because his parents then came to completely ignore their older son, who was autistic and in their minds, completely incompetent and in no way capable of inheriting a throne given how poorly he responded to fairly normal education and training.

(and he seemed that way, because he was raised in the most stressful, least accommodating environment before he met arcane... who then turned out to be pretty nasty and ableist himself rip in the form of the You Can Do Anything You Set Your Mind To, Don’t Tell Me You Can’t Do Something, You Have To Overcome Everything And Be Inspiration Porn! ^_____^ Ableist but not irreversibly so, he’s capable of learning)

**** desiderius largely stood by and in some ways even HELPED nana in covering up his abuse of arya/kutsuuko, because he was terrified of what would happen to him if he stood up against it. there are two sexual predators he’s ended up working with, he doesn’t know what they’d do.

he wasnt wrong to be afraid, his fears were actually very rational because between the two of them, they could have easily done something severely traumatizing to him even if solely psychologically - but ofc at the same time it feels like fuck man, come on, you could have helped prevent something awful like what happened to you from happening a second time and you didnt.

of course he feels this way at himself too and it fucks with him BAD [somewhat deservedly] but he’s definitely not one of the Bad Kings by any stretch of the imagination, he finds his strength eventually

but theres a part of him thats willing to do HARDER, SCARIER things than it would take to do the right thing, simply because doing the right thing feels so impossible and terrifying. he’s kind of a dumbass

https://toyhou.se/335040.desiderius

heres his toyhouse but its probably a bit out of date, the setting has changed a lot recently

#kara's charas #w@tchtower grotto #alphajade

[mysticmysterywrites-blog]

Prompt #3

Your character finds a box full of old videos and photos, objects and letters, and the more they get into them the... weirder it gets. The photos in itself are harmless enough, if not some being a bit risque or ah, bordering pornographic. They're obviously meant to be private photos. Polaroid photos, with dates written in falling back to the fifties, and even some from a little before them. However, theres a catch. The three that are cropping up in these photos? They're the same age. They all look to be in their mid to late twenties, and remain in their mid to late twenties throughout the span of the photos. And the dates just keep going back farther and farther.

The letters span from a time before photography. Dates ranging back to 1870, written in languages from Japanese, to English, to Spanish fill the box. Again, when translated, it shows the letters are all from the same small group.

However, the weirdest ones have to be the videos, that show perhaps more then your character was meant to know of or see.

While, admittedly, this is slightly an excuse to write... ship materials of my own characters, Its also practice for me to write more scene based shit, and practice writing on a wider DM scale. I would like for this to inevitably lead to your characters tracking them down. Maybe they become enamored with the people they're seeing in the videos?? Maybe what they find in the photos intrigues them. These people obviously aren't human, so.. what are they? is this fake?

(if you want to know what their deal is before your characters, feel free to ask on connection. Though, if you don't, I will tell you now its mythological in nature. Thats all I'm giving : >>>)

Also... if you have two characters of your own you want to write for that are together, please feel free to throw them in here as well. Like I said, I want to DM the world around them, and what they're going through as they find these people in their photos! And more importantly, give them things to react to, at the start.

The box is tucked away under an attic floorboard, one that had become carefully loosened by time. In fact, a simple step onto it breaks the floorboard, revealing the funny thing to any prying eyes. It is, perhaps, not surprising that the floor breaks when it does. The house is an old victorian model. Once forgotten by time, its more a surprised that nature hadn't taken its course and taken the wood back to the earth. The woods around it were privately owned for decades, though now bought by a new owner hopefully aiming to give it more love then the old supposedly did.

Its a funny place for a house. In recent years, as society grew and flourished, it crept closer and closer to its domain. However, for decades, it seemed as though it was forgotten by even the makers. Though it shows signs of once being loved (A few markings on the wall here, a hand print that had been left behind there, even a large dogs paw that stained the floor in ink in one of the bedrooms.) It was now nothing more then a mystery. Who would want to live so far out that they'd not even have a town near by?

Though, the land was admittedly quite beautiful. Even as the winter came, animal life seemed to flourish throughout it. There was a lake that, while quite a ways walk away, was within view of the top floor. And though frozen now, a broken and rotting dock hinted that maybe it would make a nice swim spot in the summer months.

Still. Even with a town a good hours drive away, the house is all but in the middle of nowhere. While a large victorian house, its slow decay is obvious to anyone with eyes. No, no. The price tag is not for the house itself, but for the land it comes with. And while the company had made sure to at least attempt to put in new plumming and electricity, theres an air of disconnectivity that comes with being so far out.

The box though.

The box is beautiful.

While it's collected dust with its age, its rosewood is still polished, and what seems to be gold has filled the engravings. It seems like, once upon a time something had been painted in on it. But it had been done sloppily, on top of the design, and the only signs of it are the stains that damage the wood underneath. It's wide enough that taking it from the floorboards means removing, if not damaging quite a few of the panels. But its heavy enough to make it a worthy find, and the contents inside are only damaged by the natural flow of time.

The first photo on top tells a tale all on its own. The woman is beautiful. All three in the photo are, admittedly, quite an attractive bunch. But her smile is frozen in time, and hair falls into her eyes to hide part of her face. Freckles coat her cheeks, and a small scar cuts into the upper edge of her cheekbone. She has in what looks to be ear plugs, though its hard to tell at the angle of the photo. Simply peaks in just enough that, if you gazed at the photo long enough, you might catch it. She's in little more then a black bra, though the strap is falling on her left, and a hand is climbing up to grab the cloth from the right. If you looked close enough at the photo, you might be able to see hints of piercings from under the cloth. The detail is hard to manage, but the cloth is thin.

The edges of her figure blur together, caught in the movement of her laughter. The man on her right in pale in comparison to her tanned skin, his long black hair pushed sloppily back as though an attempt to keep it out of his eyes. It reveals that he bares piercings of his own. A stud in his right ear, some loops against the upper ears. His right arm hooks around her own, the hand just into view to show off a few rings. His left reaches across her in an attempt to grab something from outside the others reach.

It goes far past the other man, a dark skinned man with scars across his face that holds the camera steady in his grasp. His own face is pressed into her hair, and though his eyes are closed and her hair hides a lot of his features, a smile shines through the strands. His own hair is fluffy, and the woman's hand seems to reach from under him to help pull it back a little more. A few scars crawl up his cheek from his jaw, but the lines are faint. At some point, the wound might have been bad, but at the time of the photo they're simply an untold story.

Between the two, lipstick marks scatter on their skin, some like a stamp, others smeared thick. Like the woman, they're shirtless. The wall behind them seems to imply that the photo was taken somewhere from inside the house.

Theres a bit of exposure damage to it in the left corner, the type that comes with accidentally placing it in too much light. But the photo still seemed to mean something to someone, as on the exposure an old lipstick mark lingers. The color is the same shade of lipstick the woman is wearing, though seemingly some more had been applied before it was kissed. It seems like enough a brush to it will flake off the ends, and On the bottom, the words "With love, in 1995" is printed in ink.

No names are given, but no names needed to be. Here, it feels like a voyeuristic shot, meant for no eyes outside of the subjects of the photo.

The photos seem to make up the weight of the box. They ones nearest to the corners are stacked, but the ones farther in back are sprawled out. Perhaps moving the box had shuffled them together? They look the oldest as well, black and white, and even what looked to be some cabinet cards. Though what they contained was a mystery beyond their age, they seemed to be well loved and cared for. Just a little ways under them, yellowed envelopes peak out from the photos. The paper looks as though, if handled the wrong way, it will crumble in a moments notice.

The photographs and letters, however, only take up half the box. Carefully, a line of cassettes are stacked in such a way as to create a boarder. They're small, the type that could easily plug into a camera and accidentally record over. A disc that looks like a small record, labeled with a pastel green "Voice-O-Graph!" on it barely fits into the box. If pulled out the wrong way, it looks like it would snap. It already looks well used, and worn down. As though one more use will destroy it for good.

Almost as though misplaced, theres a smaller box in the bottom left corner of the box. When picked up, it rattles, and when opened, reveals necklace and ring on earrings and bracelets. Some of them look as though they're made of plastic, though others are heavy, made of metal and gemstone.

Theres a thing of lipstick wrapped in some gloves. What looks like a once pressed flower, fallen apart with time. Old spanish train tickets, and an antique key. An old leather journal, curved with the angle it had been sitting in the box for so many years. A small bag filled with nothing, a hole ripped into the bottom.

On the underside of the lid of the box, words are written in marker. The writing is curly, and flows on the wood.

[It's funny, how the world stays the same. These people grow and change, but the land around them thrives. Be careful with this, it took me a while to find some of these.

I'll miss you two. Stay safe, I'll be back soon.

Love you.]

The period is thick, and stains the wood as though it had been held there for a long bit of time. Like the writer hadn't wanted to pull back. Wanted to write more.

But they didn't.

#Cherubplay #Laelia/okami/floant prompt #This one was experimental

[tripile]

A Winter CSF Leak Update

I’ve received many very similar emails and DMs during the last few days.

“Jodi…?” the messages start out. “I don’t want to bother you but it has been a long time since you posted, and I’m really starting to worry.”

“Jodi: blink twice if you’re ok?”

“Jodi, here is a llama walking into an optometrist’s office in France. I thought of you! Also, ARE YOU OK?”

In a world of easy access to people’s inboxes, readers have only been a pleasure, a virtual cloud of warmth and never a burden. And when so many of you ping at once, I know I am due for an update. In this slow bedrest state, life feels like a woozy Groundhog Day. I love the filaments that connect me to so many of you, reminding me not to lose track of time entirely. I am so humbled by your care.

***

When I was a kid, my mother said my first word was a word. Instead of continuing along those lines, apparently the next thing I started said was a sentence, “see car go by.”

“And then,” my family jokes, “she never stopped talking!”

Being at a loss for words is not a problem I normally have. But yes, I have been very lax at updating because it’s been hard to find words for what I’m feeling.

A Leaky Anniversary

January 26 was the one year anniversary of the patch that sealed me last year. I had a really rough and heart-wrenching time reckoning with where I am on this anniversary. Instead of scaffolding off the slow and arduous recovery that followed the anaphylaxis and procedure, I am in bed.

Again.

For many months.

If you’re just tuning in, the CSF leak that sealed up and was healing reopened because I sat on the ground. Gingerly. Not even enthusiastically. I went from 4-5km walks a day, to no walking in record time.

At first, I was in extreme denial that something so small, so inhibited could blow out the scar tissue that had months to form. But one by one, each symptom I had in 2017 came back. I keep detailed daily logs of every symptom, supplement or mediation, and food. I couldn’t deny what I was experiencing.

Then, the grief. The anger. The deep sadness, the kind that suffocates all hope.

We learn about the “stages of grief” in popular culture, but what happens when they just cycle over and over? When you think you’ve come out the other side and can breathe again, when you tilt your face up at a brighter-than-you-remembered sun, only to find that you’re back in the dark?

***

My body, when I releaked, was in far better shape than the initial leak in 2017. Labs last summer showed improvements and lower inflammatory markers. I tried to stay positive. My friends and family came to visit. My inbox overflowed with llama photos.

As fall turned to winter, I saw some wonderful improvements. I stopped having the “brain sag” of my brain smushing into my spine due to low pressure. I moved into “high pressure” again, which is usually a symptom of the leak starting to seal over — the extra CSF produced while leaking backs up against the hole now tentatively closed. I started on the meds to lower intracranial pressure to prevent the fragile seal from bursting due to pressure. I felt cautiously optimistic.

And then a few weeks later in mid-December, I had an awful nightmare in my sleep. I remember it perfectly. And I also remember what woke me up: the excruciating pain in my back.

After an epidural blood patch to seal a CSF leak, the discharge instructions note that there’s to be no bending, lifting, or twisting for many weeks, but also that coughing or sneezing can blow out the patch due to intrathecal pressure. Many fellow leakers have blown out their patches — a clot or glue covering the leak temporarily while your own body can heal with scar tissue underneath — from constipation (pushing), sneezing, coughing, laughing.

Suspend your humanness while you can, the unsaid instructions whisper. Don’t do anything that can compromise this seal.

In my case, this nightmare I had blew out the seal and I was back to square one.

The Roller-Coaster of Ups and Downs

It is difficult for me to express the crazy-making nature of this condition.

No imaging sensitive enough to show a leak in many cases, including where it is located in the spine. Many people are chronically misdiagnosed because their imaging is normal. Normal imaging, the leak experts have learned, does not exclude a leak.

So the best way to know if you are leaking is via your symptoms, which only exacerbates your anxiety about what may or may not be happening in your body. It is a very tough, very exhausting dance to undertake. I have struggled the most with this balance of attempting to stay in touch with my body while also uncurling my clenched hands from the eventual outcome. Science tells us that focusing ad nauseum on our pain can magnify it in our minds, hence the usefulness of mindfulness and other meditation.

When your condition requires a focus on pain, and you also know you need to stay equanimous to heal effectively? That is a total mindfuck.

***

In mid-December, a close family member took a turn for the very worse. The funeral was around Christmas. I was too unwell to attend. Combined with the Re-Re-leak, I spiralled pretty solidly into a very bleak place.

If I’ve learned anything in this madness, it’s that staying in the black hole of despair is not how you heal. With the crutches of visits and calls from close friends, someone to talk with who specializes in grief, and the tools I’ve drawn on at the worst of times, I was able to wrench myself to a better place.

But still, I am not sealed and healed.

***

I put off Duke when I re-leaked because of what happened during the last round of patching. There is a lesson about anxiety in that procedure too: in my most creative of nightmares, I never imagined anaphylaxis as part of what could go wrong.

But it did, and while they will not use fibrin glue again (suspecting that was the cause for anaphylaxis), I’ve written about how my body seems to be stuck in that very reactive, anaphylax-y place. My mast cells degranulated all over the place and LOVED it. They seem to enjoy doing so again and again since, not only to foods but also smells – and even hot showers.

Given how pear-shaped things went last time, I wanted to give my body a long chance to seal before committing to another procedure. When I did seemingly seal up in November, I was so thrilled. It didn’t (and doesn’t) matter to me if it takes a long time, though my parents have the patience of saints. If slow and steady was the way, I was ok with that as long as I sealed up.

I will be honest: my turbulent December and January have tested the limits of my capacity for grace and patience and hope. I have been on bedrest for quite a few months. While I’m not bored, the pain levels are pretty unconscionable and keeping my spirit up has been a mighty challenge.

From my own calculus: if I do need to go back to Duke, I want to know I gave my body a full shot.

That way, if – IF – things go awry again during a procedure, I won’t be able to look back and say, “should have given it a bit more time.”

***

So where are we now? It’s February, and almost at my favourite holiday in the world: Vietnamese lunar new year or Tet. An amazing reader named Wendy just sent me a pic of lamp in my name from her family’s temple in Malaysia, a New Year wish of health and prosperity. Lunar new year was a time for reflection and cleaning and cleansing for my years in Asia, and I’ve kept that spirit during my return to Mexico and Canada. New Year starts in a few days, and with it I hope a better climate for healing.

I have seen such progress since the re-leak, progress I didn’t see when first in bed in 2017. I keep flipping into high pressure as it starts to seal, then unsealing. It may be that I need intervention after all, but I still have hope that the JodiDura-that-could comes through this winter. I’m eating a strict and healthy diet, meditating, visualizing, consistently working to bring my mind into a better space.

If I can’t seal during the winter, it certainly won’t be because I didn’t try.

Learning to be the Tortoise

There once was a speedy hare who bragged about how fast he could run. Tired of hearing him boast, Slow and Steady, the tortoise, challenged him to a race. All the animals in the forest gathered to watch. Hare ran down the road for a while and then and paused to rest. He looked back at Slow and Steady and cried out, “How do you expect to win this race when you are walking along at your slow, slow pace?” Hare stretched himself out alongside the road and fell asleep, thinking, “There is plenty of time to relax.” Slow and Steady walked and walked. He never, ever stopped until he came to the finish line. The animals who were watching cheered so loudly for Tortoise, they woke up Hare. Hare stretched and yawned and began to run again, but it was too late. Tortoise was over the line. After that, Hare always reminded himself, “Don’t brag about your lightning pace, for Slow and Steady won the race!”

The moral lesson of the Aesop’s “Tortoise and the Hare” fable is that sometimes you can be more successful by doing things slowly and steadily than by rash action. The race (of life) isn’t necessarily won by the fastest or strongest animal, but by those who persist in the face of obstacles – including the obstacle of time.

I undertook my life in the stubborn spirit of the hare.

I went to law school straight from grade 13 (CEGEP, in Quebec) because someone bet me I couldn’t get in. I took a job in NYC because on my first day of law school, someone said, “you don’t deserve to be here. Go back to high school where you belong. And don’t bother getting a job in New York City – you’ll never succeed.” When I quit my law job, it wasn’t for a two month trip, it was for an open jaw adventure to Siberia that unfurled into a glorious and food-filled new career.

My identity for years was the lawyer who quit her job to eat soup. As I’ve laid in bed on and off since 2017, I’ve watched the travel industry and my fellow writers move on with their lives. Mine feels very stuck. I am very unused to not being able to solve problems by DOING, and it is a monumental shift in my mindset. Above and beyond the leak, my health will require a different way of approaching work.

Apparently it’s time to be the tortoise.

Tortoise pic from one of the first adventures in my round-the-world trip: the Galapagos Islands in Ecuador

I’m still feeling around the edges of what that means for me. Sealing and healing will require me to change a lot about how I approach work and achievement, because excessive doing is a surefire way to undo my progress. There’s a lot here I hope to write about in the future, about learning to get under your mind and into your heart.

About listening to your body before it’s too late.

About not necessarily taking every bet that comes your way as a life challenge.

For now, though, I don’t know what I will redefine life “as.” I trust that it will unfold in its own way. While mourning the life I had, I also feel curious about what comes next.

But first: this leak in my spine needs to be firmly sealed for me to get walking again.

***

Thank you all as always for the caring notes, the questions, and the overwhelming support and love. I am extraordinarily lucky to have such a robust army of cheerleaders around the world.

Many of you have dedicated your meditation practices to my health, and for that I am grateful. I do plan to restart the group meditations next week, on Sunday February 10th. If you are interested in joining, the first 7 weeks are here, and you can enjoy any of the meditations as the tracks are all on that post.

I have been meditating alone here, but with all that unfolded I couldn’t manage the group ones during the holidays. I appreciate how many emails I’ve received asking when they’ll restart, and I am so glad many of you find them helpful and a source of light.

I haven’t written publicly in a long time, but typing this post out with my thumbs felt very good. I missed it. And though I would still be writing if no one was reading, I’m glad to go through this very tough journey with a community like you to help make things better along the way.

Jodi

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