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crymeariveronceagain · 2 years

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personal rant for personal reasons because im that kind of person, personally

hey, check tags before reading, my beloveds

so like, im excited about the new mcr music. I swear i am.

but holy frick if it doesn't give me flashes to the crappy friendships i had at age 15

like holy crap if i'm not constantly wondering what the friend who introduced me to MCR is thinking about this song

like holy fricking crap if i don't want to text him and ask him if he thinks it's any good

like holy crap.

for the first time since we stopped talking i want to talk to him again. I want to find him and ask him what he thinks. I want him to tell me all his opinions just like nothing had ever changed and I'm still a fricking baby who can't get over my best friends in the world hurting me in stupid ways that never mattered at all--

Like, I'm so excited about Foundations of Decay, and I really enjoyed the sound.

But the level at which I want to dig out that old contact I never blocked, but never texted again, and just ask him what he thinks is so strong.

I want to ask him if he liked it. If the sound was good. If he remembers when he sent me "Bulletproof Heart" after singing "Blood" at the top of his lungs, and spamming "I'm Not Okay" in group chats for as long as I can remember.

But if I ask him what he thinks.

He'll say other things.

Or maybe he won't.

But he'd want to. He'd have so many things to say that they would hang in silence like anvils above our heads, waiting for the cords to get pulled too tight and snap, crushing us both.

Why haven't you talked to me since 2021?

Because you weren't good for me, and you're still not.

Why are you only texting me now?

Because even though you were horrible to me, I want that friendship we once had.

Why didn't you text me sooner?

I didn't want to.

Like, I know this is all so specific and probably heartbreaking to read. But like, people are so shitty sometimes? Why do you want to go back to someone who fed you your ripped-out heart on a silver platter? Someone who stopped taking your side when you needed them most? Why do we want that? Why do we crave that?

Am I just an emotional masochist, or is everyone? Are we all just looking for the next person to hurt us, waiting for the next shoe to drop?

And the thing is, I wish I could say I knew he was struggling with it, too. I wish I could say he wanted to talk to me, too.

But he doesn't, and he won't. Know why? It's been nearly a year since he last spoke to me.

I lost his world and gained another.

But now, I think, watching people on the internet scream about a song that talks about everything he would have loved to talk about, everything he would have been overjoyed and a little haughty to explain to me, everything he would have shamed me over, judged me over, spoken down to me over. Everything he would have talked about with someone else before he ever came to talk to me. Everything he ever would have never wanted to talk with me about, anyways, until I dragged him into it--

He and I are on the same terms with each other. We always have been. We'd pick fights, try to one-up each other. I know what he's thinking like you'd know what your brother is thinking. Like someone who was your best friend for years is thinking.

And together, the two of us have decided.

We've made our choices for different reasons. We've put our ideas together separately in the same ways.

I know why he hurt me. He had a girlfriend who was jealous of any time he gave me, even though she denied it. And then a friend whose feelings mattered more than mine did, even though he was the one who broke my heart. And after all that, I was just the girl he came to talk to last. Everything he'd told me had already been told to someone else, so if there was slack in the friend group to be cut it was me.

But I know him.

I know how he operates.

And yeah.

We're not talking.

But stars. Do I want to.

He doesn't want to. He's still mad at me.

But I want to talk to him.

What would I even say, if I did?

"Hey, you broke my heart far worse than any lover ever broke it. But what do you think of Foundations of Decay?"

"Yo, you let people talk shit about me behind my back and said nothing, even though I'd have burned down the world for you, did you see that MCR dropped a new single?"

"So you know how you were complicit in ruining the only friendships I had? Forget about it for a second. What's going on with My Chemical Romance?"

"So, like. Remember all the things we left unsaid? Leave them unsaid even longer. Is Foundations of Decay any good?"

I'm a fool, and I'll readily admit it.

Maybe it was just seeing his picture, seeing his mom today.

Maybe it was just knowing that I'm going to see him next year, no matter what, run into him in the hallways, we're going to the same school.

Maybe it's just emotional masochism, and the need to make myself suffer even more for whatever tiny sins I've committed against him, whatever I've ruined in myself.

Maybe this is just me wanting back the peace found in destruction, the safety in the danger, the calm before the sickness, the thing that gives me anxiety to this day just trying to lord over me how small and little and weak I am.

Or maybe.

I just wish that the good things had stayed good, and that I still could call him my friend.

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mermaidsirennikita · 2 years

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can you recommend HRs with really good smut? i just read joanna shupe’s gilded age books and i think she does such a good job. i’m also looking for any HR where the hero is a mean ~scary~ man and the heroine is lovely and likable. thank you so much!!

Yep yep yep, I love smut! Joanna Shupe is so good at it. Imo, a lot of HR authors kinda vary in terms of smut--some of it is ah-mazing, some of it leaves something to be desired because (in part) I think the HR market skews a bit older. Which is dumb, because you're never too old to read smut.

Elizabeth Hoyt is my favorite for sex in HR. Her sex scenes are pretty earthy and usually involve blow jobs, which are! Surprisingly! Hard to find! In HR! She tends to write alpha heroes, though I wouldn't say that a lot of heroines are uniformly sweet, meek, or mild. They tend to be kind of calculating, though there are exceptions.

Pretty much all of her books have great smut, but special shoutouts to:

Scandalous Desires--The hero is very snarky/flirtatious versus outright *mean*, but he's very much a powerful, alpha hero (he's a river pirate captain) and the heroine is a sweet widow who's been running the orphanage that housed his baby. Features death row head (you'll understand after you read).

Thief of Shadows--virgin hero older/experienced heroine, The Greatest Blowjob Scene Known to Man.

Duke of Midnight--fully insane hero, wildest dirty talk I've ever read. He's definitely mean, though the hero gives as good as she gets.

Sweetest Scoundrel--TW: heroine was sexually abused as a child. She thus has a lot of sexual trauma, and the book builds up to penetrative sex with a looooot of mutual masturbation/voyeurism. Enemies to lovers with a lot of banter.

Kerrigan Byrne is another great HR writer for smut. Her books, like Hoyt's tend to be on the darker/crazier side in terms of plot. Standouts include:

The Highwayman--TW: hero was sexually abused as a child. Character-wise, this is definitely what you want. He's mean. He's killed people. He kidnaps her. She's lovely, gentle, and ladylike, though she definitely has a backbone. They're both virgins, and the sex is hooooot. He's very into *watching* because he has a touch aversion... But he'll touch her plenty if he's wearing leather gloves lol.

How to Love A Duke in Ten Days--TW: the heroine is sexually assaulted in the beginning of the book, has a lot of trauma about it. She's quite lovely and sweet, and the hero is definitely on the mean side. This is another one where they understandably work their way up to penetrative sex with a lot of hand and mouth stuff. Has an ahmaaaaazing cunnilingus in public scene.

All Scot and Bothered--The heroine is plus size! The hero is a lawman. There's a lot of identity stuff in this one. He's also, like. HUGE. Which helps. Involves such a good scene where he fucks her in a chair, tons of body worship.

Tessa Dare is great if you'd like something somewhat lighter, funnier, but still super smutty. Her heroes are a bit less mean, though. My favorites on that front are:

Any Duchess Will Do--Hero is a slutty, slutty duke, heroine is the maid he convinces to get engaged to him (it's fake). Has an excellent "bend her over the desk and fuck her brains out" scene.

The Duchess Deal--Marriage of convenience, mean, scarred hero and heroine who agrees to marry him so that he can get an heir. A lot of "we're having sex to make a baby" moments, but it's obviously... not just about making a baby.

Scarlett Peckham writes kinkier historical romances than most. I'd recommend:

The Duke I Tempted--Sexually submissive duke, but he's still kinda cold and mean at first (tragic backstory) and the heroine is a breath of fresh air. He keeps his kink a secret for much of the book, but when he lets her know... he lets her know.

The Earl I Ruined--Lovely (if kinda unintentionally bitchy) heroine, hero who's been in love with her for years but is too cold and uptight to let her know. He is very much a dom, and she... is into that.

A couple of books that haven't released yet come to mind:

Heartbreaker by Sarah MacLean--In a lot of ways, I think this is her hottest book? The hero is cold and brusque, the heroine is quiet and tries not to be seen. This shit................... Like.................. Like he grabs her hair and chokes her with his dick a little and she likes it??? He says good girl?? She sits on his face? It's HOT. Out August 23.

Return of The Duke by Lorraine Heath. Probably the hottest book Lorraine has written too. The heroine was the mistress of the hero's father. There is face sitting that turns into 69ing, body worship. I wouldn't call her super sweet--she's a few years older than the hero and quite snarky. But he's pretty mean in turn. Out July 26.

Oh shit! Another thing!

If you want meeeeean heroes and you're open to old school smut (which is often more frequent but more metaphorical--where Elizabeth Hoyt writes clitoris old schoolers write like, pearl or something) I would read Elizabeth Lowell's medieval trilogy.

Untamed--The hero and heroine have an arranged marriage, he is MEEEEAN and she is lovely. He's super into her but believes she may be pregnant with another's man's child (lmao she's a virgin) so he holds off on fucking her until she's had her period. Though they do some *stuff* beforehand. It's a little dubcon-y at points, as most old schools are. Some references to the Ottoman empire and "harem" stuff because.... old school medieval. I don't love that aspect, but it's definitely there.

Forbidden--My favorite of the trilogy (in part because there are fewer references to the Ottoman empire, but for other reasons too). The hero is a Scottish warrior with amnesia, the heroine is the woman who cares for him. Some dubcon-y shit. He's less mean, she's totally lovely, and he is pretty mean after a reveal lol. This one is HOT. SUPER HOT. I don't even care about the flowery descriptions, it's insane. The hate sex in this??? TOP TIER. At one point he's like, sworn not to touch her because he's mad her so she basically kinda femdoms him and does all this shit to him while he tries to resist reaching out to touch her. It's. Good. Shit.

Enchanted--Another arranged marriage. The heroine is really against men because she was raped in the past. I won't say that's handled... Any better than you'd expect it to be handled in 1994, but I honestly liked the interplay. He doesn't wanna love and doesn't know she was raped, so he's a bit mean towards her at first. There's an aphrodisiac balm at one point, some kind of like?? Dream sex? Somnophilia??? It's very ambiguous and very dubcon, which... Honestly, all power to people who can't handle it because it's all VERRRRRY iffy, but if you like dark romance you might like this. And I appreciated the resolution.

Anyway, mean heroes and lovely heroines abound, and Forbidden especially SLAPS. But I'd recommend reading Untamed before Forbidden to fully enjoy it; these books are very interconnected. And then you can decide if you want to read Enchanted. Some people don't like dubcon, and I get that, but.... [I would like to see it.]

#romance novel blogging #book recs

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scott-mccall-the-hot-girl · 3 years

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theodore raeken: missing persons

( okay so i kinda had an idea ,, and then went through the whole teen wolf timeline to see if it would work ,, so here it is !!

theo’s backstory !! it started off way more messy headcannon format & then it got kinda a real story vibe ,, def thinking about making it an ao3 one shot eventually )

TW: very sad & hurt my feelings

don't imagine:

eight year old theo raeken...

who sleeps at his best friend scott mccall's house almost every single night, stiles is almost always there too.

theo and his friends where they all watch movies together until ungodly hours of the morning. stiles loved star wars, theo will never forget that. they had gone as luke, han and chewy for halloween that previous year. melissa went as leia. scott has always been more of a indiana jones fan himself. theo would watch either, anywhere where harrison ford was theo didn't mind being.

in this little trio, who were all raised in the mccall house, where they were given eveything they needed. sometimes when theo thought about her, when he needed to remember the good things in life. he never quite knew how she managed. expecially with scott's dad who floated in and out of the picture.

yet, it always was melissa who gave scott extra lunches to take to school because theo and his sister, who were often forgotten by their parents usually were left to fend for themselves and a fourteen year old girl rarely had the funds or mind to give a growing boy a nutritious lunch. these packed lunches always with the crust off because that's the way theo liked it. melissa always remembered.

theo had three favorite places: scott's bedroom, the corner next to his bed where theo's blow up mattress was. the bridge in which tara and he crossed everyday on their way back to raekens from school. his final place was actually beacon hills elementary.

theo always liked school. theo was good at school. he didn't realize this until mellisa had pointed out an exceptional report card. he didn't think it was much of anything to be proud of.

he liked recognizing big words from english class and novels that would help him when his mom watched jeopardy. she would watch the show every night. sitting in a daze in the raekens dark living room. not paying much mine to the eight year old, until he started blurting out the answers to her favorite show. she beamed at him. he loved his mother's smile, she had the same dimples as tara.

so yeah, when a seventeen year old theo raeken spent months filing the names of anyone ever involved in the mccall pack, current members, deceased and ones that just fell out of beacon hills. he remebered some names.

theo raeken grew up in beacon hills, and beacon hill wasn't to big of a town.

theo rembered issac lahey a quiet boy who had been in his thrid grade class, jackson whittemore who was a grade older than them and everyone knew him because he was was offered a spot on the middle school lacross team, he knew erica reyes who he rembered for her epilepsy and it made him hate himself a little less for being the king of the heart condition, he even remebered names like derek hale- who was in the same grade as tara. theo even rembered the name malia tate as she was small girl who did go to beacon hills elementary, who was always startled and always walked a bit faster than everyone else through the halls. or even lydia martin, a girl stiles had a crush on. she talked to theo a lot, lydia used to call him teddy, he didn't know when it started but he let her do it purely to spite the fact that lydia gave theo a nickname and never bothered to acknowledge stiles.

theo rembered all of them, i mean for years of his life all he had to rely on was his memory to make sure it was real.

though during the line memories turned bitter and he was left with the sour taste of resentment.

so it was weird to think despite it all, that year was one of theo's best. he never felt like he belonged. sure he had scott and stiles before but gaining friendship & being labeled as an "inseparable trio" by the sheriff station deputies, whenever they rang havoc through their office made theo's mouth crack a toothy grin. he felt like he had a family.

that was until the air started getting colder in beacon hills. theo started hearing the voices. though, even so much later in life he never could quite pin point how it started, like his brain couldn't truly decipher what was going on. some of it felt like dream, though the dreams and the thoughts. sometimes they didn't feel like his own and made him so scared he would leave the day feeling nauseous.

though this all came in spurts. his birthday was that november, and that was magical. he spent the weekend with stiles and scott, theo's mom actually made the point to bring the three of them bowling. the boys pitched in on buying theo a big millennium falcon lego set because he was always doing things with his hands, something he picked up not being so most athletic of the bunch. they also got him big poster of han solo just to spite him. he blushed and yelled at them for stupid gifts but they knew by the smile on his face he loved them.

he loved so much because despite the fact that they were poking fun at him ever so lightly, they were good natured and they held thought. they really thought about theo enough to know what he liked. he never had that before.

so the voices started getting louder again around christmas time. it was weird for theo, the happiest time of the year filled him with such excessive dread. it didn't feel right. theo's life changed that month.

then one day scott and stiles get sit down because something tragic happened. tara raeken is dead. the details are fuzzy and they don't really understand how, seeing as these boys are just in fourth grade. they are horrified, it's one of the only other times they've experienced death besides with stiles mom. though claudia stilinksi was sick, sometimes sick people die. learning about tara left a bad taste in their mouth. she was young.

they try and call, bike past is his house. they don't hear from him. they go to her funeral, scott and stiles, high on anxiety attached to their parents just trying to sneak a peak of where their best friends may be. he's gone, that's the conclusion they come to, he's gone. they don't know how it could have happened, they just know that he isn't there. why wouldn't he be there?

they try and talk to the raekens but haunted by their daughters death, they paid less attention to theo than before. they barley give them a straight answer, melissa explains what grief can do to a family and not to blame them but is equally suspicious.

just take a minute to think, while scott and stiles are scared and searching for their best friend, theo raeken, barley nine years old is given a heart transplant. alone in a dark and cold sewer hidden deep under beacon hills, horrified and a failure, that's what the dread doctors tell him. a boy who keeps quiet, does what needs to be done and has to survive. doing absolutely everything he can to be kept around, the second he heals (which theo recognizes is abnormally fast) the doctors are straight out of beacon hills.

the doctors eventually find his parents too, who leave beacon hills, he doesn't exactly know what happened to them. he doesn't everything he can not to think about the possibilities. he hopes he has a chance, survival instincts flourish but the ideal of living isn't quite the same as surviving.

one day, the doctors inform him he has absolutely nothing to go back to, he figured this he just be didn't think they would actually tell him. they never told him much.

they are far away from beacon hills- much farther than he assumed. he has no sister, and his parents are gone.

he is alone, and he is finding out that now, he has one more secret to hide. the poor boy has claw and fangs and often thinks about using them to rip himself apart, i mean he deserves it right? he just watched his sister die, to go down with the last living part of her, his own heart.

while theo is expecting his fate, stiles and scott and stuck in months of confusion. missing posters of the boys face are strung up everywhere they can reach, once his parents are gone. they know they need to do everything they can.

mellisa feels like she's been punched in the gut, so she helps her boys. she calls every hospital in the county, and then she starts reaching out to some of the bigger hospitals in the state. spreading word of a missing nine year old like wildfire. she spends nights after her shift arguing with noah stilinksi, he has been looking to. he tries to bargain logic with her.

"yeah it's strange he never said goodbye, he wasnt at the funeral- it's weird, yes, but his parents left too. their daughter just died melissa. maybe they didn't want to stay."

melissa knows, yeah that makes sense. theo had to of just moved with the raekens but something about it doesn't feel like it makes sense.

he would have said goodbye to her. she knows it.

other people in beacon hills were actually thinking the same thing, something wasn’t quite making sense.

those other people being some who can sense unrest in supernatural frequencies. a family who makes it their business to monitor the supernatural. the hales.

though, talia hales supernatural concerns didn't often revolve around fourteen year old girls who drown, shes curious. the girl, was in dereks grade. the mother in her falters but it doesn't get strange until the police reports reveal the fact that the girls heart was gone, she was found. gaping chest wound, lying in the river.

so she starts to suspect somethings wrong. she's seen the raekens case, something about it doesn't make sense. sure, the death of a teenage girl is overwhelmingly tragic but there isn't much to investigate. though talk of the raekens is getting loud, she comes to find out this is because of the raekens youngest, who was nowhere to be seen days before the funeral.

she knows the hunters are back in beacon hills. so wonders if the two correlate. so she starts asking questions.

talia, with her daughter in tow see two boys standing outside the sheriffs station, stopping people when they walk in to show they a poster. it's theo raekens missing poster, though there isn't much official about it. it seems like the sheriffs department couldn't issue anything official, so as she walks up to the boys seemed to have made dozens of copies themselves. there information seems formal enough.

she catches their anxiety heighten as talia hands the poster over to laura who stands behind her.

the taller one raises a brow, "have you seen him anywhere miss?"

she smiles, "miss hale- you can call me talia though. this is my daughter laura. we haven't seen your friend but we'd like to help..."

the taller boy nods, "well, i'm scott. that's stiles. how could you help?"

talia hale lies easily, "i've heard about what happened to the raekens and it sparked my concern. i have a friend, local sheriffs station who is awfully good with the police dogs. if you have anything that your friend owned i might be able to call i'm a favor."

a few days later, stiles had found her in the same spot as last time with a small black sweater. she smiled and told him she would do her best to help these two boys. not sure if her intrest in the case was supernatural based or because she didn't want these boys, who smelled like anxiety and exhaustion to fall down the hole of loss themselves. she wasn't sure where investigating theo’s disappearance themselves would leave them, she didn't want them getting caught up in the supernatural spiderweb of beacon hills.

though, talia hale looses scent and momentum on the case. literally and metaphorically. she finds herself near some suspicious tunnels, leading right under beacon hills but scent falls short. she's frustrated, and the time since his disappearance is lengthening but her families needs become increasingly concerning.

she's listens, she likes to know what's going on. so when she hears her sixteen year old whispering a bit more with her kid brother she raises suspicion. she doesn't trust peter like she used to, not after getting involved with the desert wolf.

paige dies months after that, dereks heartbroken and talia is trying to put together pieces of a story that turned her babies eyes blue. to young. beacon hills doesn't quite understand how another student is dead, with no previous medical history. this, the death of paige she knows is supernatural.

kate argent moves to town and in months, the hale house is burned to the ground. inside, theo raekens black sweater. tucked away in a room, where news clippings and missing posters caught fire the fastest.

so with no surprise, another tragedy is unleashed and it's the talk of the town. memory of theo starts to fade, like most things do in beacon hills. it's not anybodies fault but it still stings. though, theo million miles away hasn't felt much of anything latley.

it's been a little over a year. he hasn't cried in the past three months. he won't let himself. nobody is going to find him. he isn't going to het out. so he puts up his walls, as many as he can. he just has to stay alive a little bit longer. make something worth taras sacrifice. they had started to kill off more of the chimeras, more of their science experiments. he can't get killed, he can't do that to tara.

theo was always a fast learner. theo always liked school. theo was good at school. this wasnt exactly the same as math class at beacon hills elementary but he was picking up skills quickly. theo didn't quite recognize himself after that year. he wasn't that same boy, and that had to suite him just fine. he never had much of a choice in this. he just chose to try and keep her heart beating for as long as he could.

so theo raeken adjusted, he had to.

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lady-of-the-spirit · 3 years

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Okay

I gave in. I wrote a Mandalorian fic. And I posted it again because it wasn’t showing up in the tags, so second time’s the charm. Enjoy!

Summary: The Child finds out you have scars and wants to know more about them.

Pairings: Baby Yoda (Grogu) & Reader, Din Djarin & Reader

Gender-neutral reader. No use of Y/N.

TW: Non-graphic memories of a fire (tragic backstory), discussion of scars.

Notes: No spoilers for the finale. Grogu is called The Child in this fic. Din actually isn’t in the story much since this is mostly about you and the Child but he shows up at the end. You’re shirtless for most of the story but in a casual, just hanging out way, not in a sexy way.

Word count: 2823

AO3

You only had two shirts that you wore on a daily rotation. It was a step up from Din, who seemed to have exactly one set of clothes he wore on repeat. You suppose when you're always wearing armour, the clothing underneath doesn't matter as much - it's just extra padding.

But even when swapping shirts for each other every day, with the life you lead, things got dirty. Dirty and gross. Sweat, blood, all sorts of disgusting things you came into contact with got all over you and your clothes and after some amount of time, you and your clothes needed a wash. (You were never going to get the stain from hugging Din right after he exploded out of that Krayt Dragon out of your clothes, a fact you had come to terms with.)

That brought you here, on the planet of Valahari. It was relatively safe, so far at least. It reminded you of Sorgan, with all the forests. It gave the Razor Crest some good coverage while Din was in town, looking for a job to make a few credits, and you and the Child waited for him to come back with the money. Or to come running back under blaster fire to make a quick getaway - either was likely, in your opinion.

Normally you would have headed off with Din, the Child held safely in his pod or the satchel hung over Din's shoulder, and worked the job with him, or found a job of your own to make some extra money, but the last adventure the clan of two and you had been on ended with a sprain in your right ankle. It wasn't bad enough you couldn't walk (limping was walking, no matter what Din said, the worrier), but it was bad enough that Din had decided you were not to do anything too strenuous until it healed. The Child had attempted to heal you, seeing you lying in pain on the floor of the Crest while Din was flying you all off the planet, but you had stopped him. Healing took a lot out of him and you would rather be inconvenienced for two to three weeks than let him hurt himself trying to help you. You had made it your whole life healing the normal way without any magical powers and you were perfectly fine doing it now.

Being out of commission meant being stuck with the Crest and watching the Child. It would bother you being left behind while Din was working, make you feel helpless, but knowing that Din "where I go, he goes" Djarin trusted you to take care of his baby was a nice feeling.

Near where the Crest was parked, hidden away in the forest, was a river. You, knowing that you would not get another chance to do so for a while, decided to take advantage of this and use the river to wash and clean your shirts. The edge was shallow enough for the Child to play in without much danger, although you glanced up at him every thirty seconds or so to make sure he was not getting in too deep. You knelt in a deeper part, sitting before the rock you were using to clean your clothes, and you didn't want him following you in further and getting washed away. He got used to the sound of you slapping your clothes against the rocks pretty quickly and didn't squeak in surprise after the third time. He was having the time of his life, splashing around in the water that came up to a little less than half his height. He chased after the little fishes darting through the water, doing his best to catch them and have a snack, and although they were always too fast for him he was determined to keep trying.

It was hard not to laugh when he slipped and landed on his behind - only after waiting to make sure he wasn't actually hurt, of course. He tilted his head and stared at you with "BETRAYAL!" flashing in those big dark eyes of his, and it made you laugh even more. He sighed - the resemblance to Din was uncanny and you laughed at that too, the way the fifty-year-old child perfectly mimicked his father's world-weary sigh - and got back to his feet and kept stumbling through the water after the silvery fish.

It didn't take long for you to finish your chores. You stood up and limped back to shore. You laid your wet clothes out on a boulder on the riverbank for them to dry in the sun. Despite the forest around you, the sun shone through perfectly onto the spot you found. You settled down on the grass and leaned back on your elbows, keeping your sprained ankle straight out in front of you and trying not to move it. You had a perfect view of the Child from where you were. The sun was warm against your skin. You sighed contentedly and continued to watch the little one play. He seemed to understand not to ask you to play with him like he normally would, that you were injured and shouldn't be pushing yourself.

You wondered if Din told him that when you weren't around, if the Force was telling him that, or if he just knew that himself. He was a very wise child, although it was easy to forget that as he babbled in joy after turning over a rock and finding a worm. He ate it before the words "Don't eat that!" were out of your mouth and there was nothing more you could do. You sighed and leaned back again. You closed your eyes for a moment, absorbing the warmth, trying to enjoy the rare moment of peace you had been blessed with.

A second later you realized it had gone quiet and your eyes snapped open. Peace never lasted long.

The Child wasn't gone, hadn't been swept away, to your relief. He was toddling out of the river, heading for you.

"Done with terrorizing the wildlife?" you asked him as he reached your side. He cooed in reply, smiling up at you. You took it as a yes and couldn't resist the urge to give his nose a little 'boop'. He made a noise you and Din had identified as his 'happy' noise and grinned. "You want to sit up here with me?"

The Child made another noise, looking away from your face and at your uncovered torso. It might have been the most skin he'd seen on a person in a while, so you couldn't blame him for his fascination. You watched as he took a few steps closer until he was standing right up against you. He raised his little green hand and started touching your stomach.

You wondered what he was doing before he started making noises you and Din had identified as his 'upset' noises and your eyes widened. "What's wrong?" You pushed yourself up a little bit, but he made the noises again, slightly louder. He moved his hand back to where it had been before. He prodded at your stomach and looked up at you, eyes huge and worried, wearing the saddest face you had ever seen.

You looked down at where he was poking you and you understood.

He had discovered one of your old scars. A really old one, so old it was mostly faded by now. You almost forgot it was even there, you were so accustomed to seeing it on your skin.

But the Child was not, and he saw the mark of an old wound and thought "hurt."

"Oh, honey," you said, reaching out and stroking one of his ears. "I'm fine."

He made another distressed noise like he thought you were lying.

"This is an old mark," you explained. You had long since stopped feeling silly for explaining things to the Child. He understood, whether or not he could say anything back. "I got it as a child. When I was little, like you." You held your hand at the height you were as a child to illustrate how little you were then compared to now. "It doesn't hurt anymore."

The Child still looked worried. You took one of his little hands into your own and held it against your scar, giving it a harder poke. "See? Doesn't hurt." You paused. "You wanna know how I got it?"

He cooed and blinked at you. You took it as a yes.

"Loth-cat," you said. He scowled and made an 'unhappy' noise. "Yeah, you remember those from Sorgan, don't you? Vicious little bas- monsters. I made the mistake of picking one up and it did not like that. Clawed me right here and that was that." You grimaced at the old memory.

"But it's all healed now," you continued, and you patted the Child's hand, still laid over the mark. "See? It's okay. No pain. I forget about it most of the time, it's fine."

The Child hummed and studied the mark with glittering eyes. You let go of his little fingers and he patted your scar on his own. Something warmed in your chest at the action.

He seemed to be taken in by the sight of your bare torso and quickly pointed to another scar, this one a little more recent. It was like a little starburst on your hip.

"Same thing, honey. It's an old wound, it doesn't hurt anymore." He stared up at you expectantly. "Oh, the story? I was on a hunt, like the kinds your dad goes on, or used to before we started looking for your people. This was way before I ever met him, though. Got on the wrong side of some, ahem, ruffians, and they shot me clean through. I got lucky since a doctor was in the crowd watching our fight and got me to her medical center. Still got the mark, though." You had also made a friend out of the doctor. You smiled and made a mental note to check in on her sometime. The path your little team was taking through the galaxy would put you somewhere near her planet, and it couldn't hurt to have her take a look at the child to make sure he was healthy.

The Child looked a little sadder at this story and his ears drooped.

"But I'm fine," you said gently, running your hand over his little head. "I'm here, aren't I? With you and your dad?"

He said nothing and reached up. His hands grabbed at your stomach and you realized he was trying to pull himself up onto you. You helped him out, giving him a lift with your hand, and he climbed over your stomach. He found a series of thin marks on your rib cage, which you then had to explain to him is what was left behind from pieces of shrapnel - an explosion a bounty had set off to evade capture. It hadn't even been your own bounty, you added with an exaggerated scowl to make the Child laugh. You had just been taking a day off in the vicinity of another hunt. Bad luck.

You omitted the fact that the accident had nearly been lights out for you. The Child didn't seem sad anymore, just curious, and you wanted to keep it that way. He started patting every scar he found. You wondered how often he'd had skin-on-skin contact with another creature. Wasn't that supposed to be good for babies? You remembered reading about that somewhere. You made another mental note to mention it to Din. It was something he should know.

You couldn't tell how the Child felt about the number of scars he found on your body, but he seemed engaged in every story you told. A lot of them were from stupid accidents when you were younger - "My sibling and I got into a knife fight with each other, I don't recommend it," "Don't pick up a nuna without warning, they'll probably freak out and their claws hurt," - but most were from various and more dangerous excursions throughout your adult life. You kept those stories shorter to keep from frightening him but told him enough to keep him entertained. He liked some danger, you knew, he just didn't like it when you or Din were threatened.

His hand landed on an old burn scar that crawled up your side and it made you go stiff. He stilled, sensing something was wrong.

You had to take a moment to compose your thoughts. What to say about that one? How much to keep from him? Could you even tell him about it?

You closed your eyes and tried to sift through the almost ancient memories pushing their way to the forefront of your mind. Your house on fire. Your village burning to the ground. The flames and their suffocating heat all around you. The sounds of your family, neighbours, people you've known all your life, screaming. You running and trying to hide - getting trapped under a burning wooden beam - a random face, a person you know you've seen before but can't place, pulling you out, putting out the flames on your side, carrying you to safety. You had passed out from the searing pain in your side and never saw the person again. You never found out who it was, you just knew you were alive thanks to them. Alive with a single mark to show for it.

You opened your eyes when you felt the Child shifting. He took a few steps and stood on your chest. You grunted under his weight, grateful he wasn't any heavier or he would have been a problem - he was just like a little cat. He studied your face with inquisitive eyes. You smiled weakly.

"Not quite ready to talk about that one yet, I'm afraid," you said.

His ears drooped and he looked at you sadly. You thought it was because he wanted his story, but then he reached out and patted your cheek, the same way he'd been doing to all of your scars. He cooed gently and tilted his head.

It's okay, he seemed to be telling you. Like if he couldn't use his Force healing to help, giving you a gentle pat was the next best thing.

You stroked his ears.

"Yeah, I'm okay," you murmured to him.

He smiled, happy to have helped.

You were able to smile back. His ears lifted.

You heard a rustle and immediately sat up, holding the Child tight to you, keeping him hidden, and turning so you could see who was coming.

You saw Beskar glinting in the sunlight. It was just Din. You sighed and relax, letting the Child go so he could drop off your stomach and waddle over to his dad.

"Get any credits?" you called over your shoulder, tilting your head back to soak in a few last rays of sun before you had to go back to the Crest.

"Got enough," was his reply. "How's the ankle?"

That was his daily greeting now, every time you woke up or had been apart for longer than a few hours. It was cute how much he worried despite trying to seem like he wasn't worrying.

"It's doing alright." You sat up. "Good as it can be, anyway." You managed to get to your feet, the pain shooting up your leg making you wince. You could tell Din saw it, if the way he suddenly tensed like he was ready to spring forward and help was any indication.

"That's good." His voice sounded odd. The Child, snug in his arms, seemed to notice too as he looked up at Din with a curious look. You shrugged it off and picked up your laundry from the boulder. It was mostly dry, so you pulled on one of your shirts.

"How was the Child?" he asked, his voice going back to normal.

"He had fun, terrorizing the wildlife, as he does." You didn't mention the worm he ate.

"As he does," Din repeated with a hint of fondness. You walked over to him, only a slight limp in your step. "It seems like you two were bonding."

"He was curious about some of my marks," you said. "Don't think he's ever seen a scar before."

Din didn't say anything. The Child reached a tiny hand out to you and you gave him a little handshake, smiling at him.

"I just told him about them," you explained. "Nothing too graphic, just the basic story of them all. He seems glad to know I'm still here, though."

Din nodded. The Child refused to let your hand go.

"He's not the only one," Din said quietly, so quietly you almost missed it. But you didn't.

You didn't comment on it, but you couldn't stop smiling all the way back to the Crest.

Din was definitely hiding in the background watching some of the last bits of you and Baby’s bonding moment and is dealing with Feelings about that and seeing you shirtless.

This is the first, but hopefully not the last fic I’ve written for The Mandalorian. Hope I did okay! If this made you want to see my future writing for The Mandalorian, just let me know and I’ll put you on a tag list.

I think I did a decent job, making this gender-neutral, but if there’s anything you noticed you feel like bringing to my attention, feel free.

#the mandalorian imagine #din djarin imagine #din djarin #grogu #baby yoda #the mandalorian #star wars #imagine #baby yoda imagine #star wars imagine #i'm making stuff #i'm writing stuff #okay to reblog

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mcmactictac · 3 years

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Hi 🙋‍♂️

What do you think about jasons death ? In my opinion it made sense because it made the emprrors seem like a true threat but in the other hand i wish his character arc had been finished before that . Jason was suppossed to be a Bridge between greeks and romans and yet we barely See him in that role.Also i would have loved to See platonic jiper .... .....

Oh I have SO many thought about this I’m so glad you asked.

Here’s the thing. Jason had the potential to be a really interesting character in hero’s of olympus, but a lot of it was tossed to the side because there was so much other stuff going on with the plot. I know everyone complained about how boring he was and how he did literally nothing. Although his character has amazing potential, it was never going to be properly explored.

The one thing they could do to Jason’s character to make him more interesting and sympathetic is kill him off. Although it frustrates me that his death is really only there for Apollo’s development, it made his character more interesting. I feel like it adds threats we don’t usually see with demigods.

Within the first series they talk a lot about how demigods usually don’t make it past like 20, but then no one really dies beside in the war. I think Jason’s death is a good way to show that accidents happen on quests, even the most qualified and put together person can slip up, can lose and can die just as easily as everyone else.

I know I personally found Jason’s character the most interesting in the burning maze because he’s given something he wants. He’s in school, he’s not in a relationship with Piper so his character arc centers around himself, not around his relationship, and he wants to rebuild camp Jupiter. He doesn’t just have a goal he has to complete, he has something that he WANTS.

This makes his death hurt way more because Jason really hasn’t had anything he cared about for? His character was very responsibility and mission driven, so to see him focus on something for himself only to have it ripped away? Very interesting. It makes his feel ty more impactful because it wasn’t the end of his arc, he had things he wanted and like he wasn’t DONE. And he wasn’t expecting to die like he was on a quest

That being said because I am petty. Blood of olympus had very low stakes for me. The climax was over pretty quickly and although I know it’s a children’s book like. No one actually “dying” felt like a cop out. The whole series has been building up to that with the promise someone is going to die and then Leo has an anticlimactic “death” before coming right back. I wanted to see one of them get like. A really rough ending I guess? Obviously I love them all and I wouldn’t want any of them to hurt but like. To spill the blood, someone should have died. Someone should have sacrificed themselves to protect someone else. And it should have been a clear death, a permanent there’s no coming back where you see the body. When I read the book I assumed Rick didn’t do it just because it’s a children’s book and since we get POV’s from everyone it would be kind of graphic for kids to see that character die but like.

If we were going to properly kill someone, I wish we did it in hero’s of olympus. Although I think Jason’s death sets good stakes in trials of Apollo, he really didn’t get much to work with character wise. He should have been killed off In his own series where he was one of the people who was SUPPOSED to die. It would have been better for his character since we could have the POV’s of Piper, Leo and people who are really invested in him, not just Apollo.

Now I have many many thoughts about where Jason’s character should have gone especially since everyone in HOO had such interesting backstories that were just kind of thrown away and not talked about again. Like. (Tw for suicide skip to next paragraph to avoid it)

I wanna talk about Percy and his clearly suicidal tendencies. How quickly he gave up once they landed in the river, how much he struggled when he was “drowning”. I wanted to see him have some ptsd from that. A percy who can’t stay long underwater because it sends him into a panic attack. Same with Frank he had so much potential with that stick and it was just. Not there. Now correct me if this did happen I haven’t read the books in a while but I want to see a Frank who lights it on purpose, to try and save other people. Frank who screws up on a big mission, gets people hurt and sits on his bed with a lighter in one hand and the stick in the other. He was responsible for so many deaths he thinks, shouldnt i die a bit too? I know these are dark topics for a kids book but I think it’s important to talk about them and expose them to the concept so they feel less alone if they have that.

An Annabeth who’s tired, and done, and DOESNT have all the answers anymore. Shes an anxious kid who keeps losing everything, and she can’t always keep everything together. At some point, she should have cracked. Lost control for a bit and broke down, before putting the pieces back together. It’s not functional to keep being that high strung all the time. A Hazel who is terrified of herself, who won’t touch other people because her mother would say things like “you ruin everything you touch”. A Hazel who has to address and unpack the trauma from being a young child forced to care for her bad mother, dealing with her own problems and coping with her literal death. That’s way too much for a 14 year old to handle and be as stable as she is. Especially after getting thrown back into the mortal world.

A leo who has to fight the urge to run away. He’s been running for so long, when things get bad on the Argo he runs down and packs a bag. And he goes to run because he learned he just makes things worse, no one wants him and they’ll all be better if he just leaves. But this time someone stops him. Percy is there and he helps Leo because he’s been there before. And Percy doesn’t try to trap him there, if he needs to go he needs to go. But he lets him know that he’s valued here and this isn’t a place he needs to run anymore. Leo who finally feels safe for the first time in years who silently goes back downstairs and unpacks his bag. He sits silently and cries on his bed because he feels SEEN. A Piper who struggled more with her sexuality!!! I would have loved to see the POV of a child of Aphrodite who thinks she might like girls too. Piper who isn’t Just “Jason and Piper” or “Leo and Piper” but Is just PIPER. Her character isn’t tied into everyone else’s, and is given a chance to be her own person, explore herself,

And a Jason who is his own. Not just a leader or a figurehead but just JASON. Who’s allowed to have a personality, to explore, figure out what role he wants to have. A Jason who isn’t rooted in duty anymore, but wants to live his life. Jason who lives for himself, not for other people.

But we were never going to get that, so yeah I think it was a good but tragic end to his character. Makes him more likeable, gives him a final little bit of personality before writing him out. But yeah!! Thanks for asking!

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #Jason grace #Jason grace desth #Leo valdez #piper mclean #annabeth chase #hazel levesque #frank zhang #pjo #hoo #trials of Apollo #toa

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literaryillusions · 5 years

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Cutler, Sutter and Salinas

A trio of brothers - and their rather excellent foster father - make up the family for this trilogy of thriller romances. The romance is definitely secondary - most bedroom scenes are fade to black - and all have some rather heavy action/ thriller/ violent/ trauma/ mental health aspects that I thought were handled well. There is a story that goes through all three - I don’t think it is necessary for book one at all but definitely 2 and 3. I would suggest reading these in order or at least books 2 and 3.

When All the Girls Are Gone

Tonight she was going to do what she wanted to do and let tomorrow take care of itself.

Charlotte can’t find her stepsister and after the bodies start piling up in increasingly suspicious ways she knows she needs some help. Max is the help - having just set up his private investigation office. While they are running, riding cars in rivers and generally trying to stay alive - they also find someone who makes them feel a lot less boring.

I read these out of order and ended up here last - I think that was fine but can’t really tell... Max is an alpha hero but Charlotte is strong enough not to let him bowl her over and his level of respect makes sure she isn’t a damsel in distress. The mystery in this one wasn’t terribly predictable and I really enjoyed watching how Max tries to be comfortable with Charlotte and doesn’t hold back when she asks him hard questions. Overall - not brilliant but rather interesting.

TW: Rapes are discussed but do not happen on the page. There is no sexual violence that happens but it is frequently mentioned and referenced.

Promise Not to Tell

The older I get, the more I realize that everyone is weird in one way or another.

Cabot is low on social skills and high on intensity which doesn’t necessarily make him approachable but it does make him a rather great investigator. Virginia really doesn’t want to believe that the man who destroyed her childhood, nearly killed her and haunts her nightmares is back. But at least Cabot doesn’t think she is crazy.

This is an interesting book and I think my favorite within the series. Cabot is wickedly awkward and I love an awkward hero. He is almost too blunt and doesn’t necessarily seem to have - for lack of a better term - bedside manner. He is overprotective and a bit highhanded and Virginia just sort of... ignores him and they learn to trust each other's judgement. (I don’t mind a protective hero but passive heroines drive me bonkers.) These two knew each other as children and did not have a romance but do share some serious trauma and together are trying to stay alive and solve a mystery. This book focused a lot on their shared anxieties and mental health and I think that it was really brutally honest storyline that I enjoyed. It did not overplay her anxiety but did help shape her character with the story - especially with romantic scenes with Cabot.

TW: Parental death, PTSD, panic attacks and gunplay at the end.

Untouchable

Sometimes just knowing that someone thinks you deserve to be heard, that your opinion has merit, means everything.

Jack knows he is teetering on the edge of sanity when he turns to Winter for meditation guidance and help with his lucid dreaming. What he doesn’t know is that maybe instead of losing his mind he will finally get the answers he needs and solve the mystery that has plagued his life. Winter was just starting over and just falling for Jack when their lives go from relatively simple to a race against time to stop the man that has ruined more lives than anyone knows.

This book was... not my favorite in the series. The characterization of Jack felt... forced? Like making him not necessarily awkward but truly on the edge but in like - what I think - was supposed to be a sexy way? And I didn’t buy it. Winter seemed cool? If a little too tragic a backstory... Overall - very underwhelming and a lame conclusion to the series after book two.

TW: Mental health/ insanity conversations and action/ violence in the end of the book.

#contemporary romance #reader thoughts #jayne ann krentz #thriller romance

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tsvrosvs-blog · 5 years

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Murdered: Soul Suspect AU

Now, I know this is a very unknown game but, I love it so much so I HAD to make an au out of it.

TW: death, violence, murder, dark themes, ghosts etc

I will be showing photos of the characters right at the end.

Ronan, the main character, would be Roman. Mainly because I like Ronan’s backstory and it’s god damn interesting.

So Ronan (before he died) was a cop. Before he was a cop he was a criminal. He grew up with a rather not so nice dad. He didn’t raise him properly and literally gave him a fucking tattoo at the age of 11.

If you’ve played the game, you’ll know that Ronan has gotten a lot of tattoos throughout his life meaning different things. I don’t know much about that though so let’s move on.

His wife (in the au Romans’ husband will be Patton) gets murdered three years before Ronans death.

Ronan dies because he’s after the killer (the bell killer) and the bell killer is looking for Joy and Joys mom (Virgil and Remy)

Ronan, unfortunately, dies as the murderer kills him. Roman meets Joy and Joy is a medium, someone who can talk and see ghosts. Joy helps Ronan figure out his death and Ronan helps Joy find her mom.

Now onto Joy.

In this au, Joy will be Virgil as stated above. Keep in mind, this will be platonic Prinxiety as in the au Virgil is a teen and Roman is not and also one is dead and one isn’t.

Joy is your typical gothic emo teenager. She’s shy and rebellious and blah blah blah. Her mom goes missing, she comes back in the end don’t worry, and Joy is desperataly trying to find her.

You don’t get much of Joys backstory sadly but you know she’s a medium.

Next up is all the ghosts that you encounter and get to know about their deaths in the game.

Sophia is Thomas and her death iS SO GOD DAMN DARK.

Rose is Logan.

Iris is Picani, Logan’s brother.

Keep in mind, Iris was close to dying but Rose freed her and tried to free herself but got killed anyway and poor iris had to witness it.

So Sophia’s death is tragic.

Sophia gets tied to a chair, hit against a tree and drowned. Her body washes up on a river.

Rose and Iris are tied together as they’re about to be BURNT on the stake. However, Rose freed Iris and sadly had to be burnt.

I’ll get the other characters in another post don’t worry!!!

In order of the photos shown

Ronan (before death)

Ronan (after death)

Joy

Sophia

Iris

Rose

#sandersides #logansanders #pattonsanders #virgilsanders #deceitsanders #romansanders #sandersidesau #murdered: soul suspect #mssau #msssandersidesau

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luckton-moved · 6 years

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Raphael and Denestia: A Tragic Love Story

i decided to type out a summary of one of my favorite oc backstories for future reference, and so people could read it. this is pretty much the things that led up to the plot of my story/upcoming webcomic, a forest on fire. it’s extremely long (over 2000 words) and therefore in a read more. please feel free to read it if you’d like !

(tw: parents, hospitals, sickness, death, violence, alcohol mentions, fires, overall relationship issues and family issues. the usual stuff.)

Raphael and Denestia: The Story

A violent teenage delinquent, Raph Maxton grew up on the wrong side of town in late 1958. His mysterious girlfriend of several years, Denise Buckland, had what he didn’t: a large house, a substantial amount of money and, most importantly, a level head. The two were in love. Denise loved Raph and found him amusing, teasing him in good spirits but always meaning well. Raph loved Denise, often pretending she was royalty and calling her “Queen Denestia of the Elite Socialites”, which always made her laugh. The two weren’t without problems though, often fighting and breaking up, but getting back together. It seemed like trouble was always inevitable, with Raph constantly getting in trouble with the law and often disappearing, leading Denise to believe he was with another girl.

Although Denise was one of the wealthier students at the high school, Denise did not enjoy being around the other students. Even so, she would rather not be at home, as her adoptive parents would always treat her as if she was more of an object and less of a person; they ignored her interests as they showered in the glory of having their precious, beautiful, happy daughter, Denise. Raph’s home life was also very undesirable. His mother had left; whether she was dead or alive Raph did not know. He often fought with his alcoholic father and said father’s petty young girlfriend. The only person in his house that he could really stand to be around was his older brother Charley: a smart, messy haired young man who always aspired to be something great. Charley did always have a sickly countenance about him, though, and he soon succumbed to an unknown illness.

Raph, of course, absolutely lost control when his brother died. He got into more fights, at home and at school, then after school and in the streets. He began lashing out at his friends and isolating himself more, progressively becoming more bitter and violent as time went on. Denise became worried as he stopped taking care of himself, often forgetting to eat and frequently not returning home. Denise had barely noticed it, but he was also having trouble catching his breath sometimes and coughed more often.

One time, Denise and Raph were walking through the forest near their hometown when Raph suddenly doubled over coughing. He insisted he was fine, but once Denise saw blood, she rushed him to the hospital, insisting that if he would just come with her, she would cover all the bills and costs with her parents’ money. He finally, reluctantly, agreed and when they arrived, he was quickly taken away into a room. When denise was finally able to enter the room, she did.

Once Denise stepped inside, she saw that Raph looked…bad, to say the least. He was paler than usual, and looked very weak. He looked… pathetic. Denise stood there in silence for a little while,thinking, before Raph broke the silence with, “are you gonna say something, or are you just gonna stand there and stare at me like a broken marionette?” He laughed hard and then coughed. Denise knew he didn’t have too much time left. She didn’t sit down.

Denise wanted to ask him why he didn’t tell her she was sick. She wanted to ask him why he didn’t tell her anything. So she did. Everything she wanted to say to Raph spilled from her: how worried she always was, how much she cared about him, how angry she was at him for never taking care of himself, how much she hated when he pushed her away, you name it. She wasn’t worried anymore. She was mad.

Raph was mad too. He shot back at Denise, asking her why she was mad if she cared so much, telling her how difficult it was to even get up in the morning (let alone take care of himself), and wondering why she never took the time to understand him. He asked her why now, of all times, was she fighting with him about something they could have possibly talked about. He didn’t want her there if all she was going to do was argue with him more.

So Denise left, running down the hallways of the hospital, holding back tears. She went home. There was nothing left for her to do at the hospital. It wasn’t until her parents were talking about Raph at the dinner table two days later that she realized she needed to go back. They said that the town delinquent, Raph Maxton, had finally succumbed to whatever karma he had accumulated. Denise excused herself from the table and left the house, running at full speed toward the hospital.

When Denise entered, Raph was, somehow, even worse off. He was arguing with a nurse about why she wouldn’t just let him go already, but he was even weaker than before and looked like he probably couldn’t physically do anything to her if he had the chance. When Raph saw Denise, he shooed away the nurse and focused on his girlfriend. Amidst all his pain and anger, he chuckled. “Well, look who was just dying to see me.” He broke into a fit of coughing. Raph was dying.

Denise sat down. She apologized to Raph, but he waved it off. He didn’t blame her for being irrational; he was being irrational too. They smiled at each other for a long minute. Denise and Raph began sharing and reminiscing about the times they shared, laughing and joking about their past as the world melted away and only they were left.

After about fifteen minutes, Raph quieted. He looked out the window and commented on the view of the forest below. He told Denise that he hated it in the hospital, that he wishes he was outside taking a walk with her, just like they had been before the whole ordeal went down. Denise looked at Raph, his tired eyes longing and his smile soft. She realized that he wasn’t as tough as he appeared. She didn’t want to see him die. Denise excused herself so she could walk the halls and think for a few minutes. When she returned, Raph was missing.

Denise ran down the stairs and outside. How could she have been so stupid as to leave Raph alone like that? She called his name. No answer. She called his name again. And again. And again. She ran into the forest, now screaming his name.

Denise had been searching for only a few minutes when she found him crumpled near a tree, but by then, Raph was already gone. She cried for a long while, but realized that it wasn’t her fault. She decided to put him in a more rested position, then left him.

Denise was faced with another problem: she was lost. She turned left and right, though the night had turned dark and she couldn’t see. It seemed as if the entire forest was watching and laughing at her. She could almost hear the awful taunting of the forest, mocking and jeering at her. It was driving her mad. She began to run, trying to find any trace of light or civilization in the inky blackness of the night. She felt the ground give way beneath her and she fell into an icy cold river, never to return.

A spirit woke up and looked around. He was in the heart of the forest, a large clearing surrounded by aspen trees. He stood up. In the center, a large, thick, twisted tree with dark leaves loomed in front of him. Its roots seemed to spread far and wide, all across the forest. It seemed like it was staring at the spirit, judging him. Somehow, the spirit felt as if it wanted him to do something. He looked at the ground below, grass and flowers beginning to grow to crown his feet, as if he was the one commanding them to do so. Small purple flowers sprouted slightly in front of him and spelled out four simple letters. ‘RAPH’. Hm, the spirit thought, was that his name? No. His name should be longer than that. He squatted down. “Raphael,” he said aloud, “That’s a name, right?” He wasn’t addressing any person directly. He touched the flowers and they wilted. He touched them again and they sprouted good as new. He traced a messy ‘AEL’ in the grass at the end of the word, purple flowers popping up as he did so. He smiled, satisfied, and left. Maybe he could find out just who he was.

A different spirit woke on the other side of the tree. She stood up and stared at it, feeling its powerful energy drawing her in. She was afraid of it. She then realized that her feet were not touching the ground, and looking down she realized they weren’t even there. A name, Denise, was traced on the ground in blue flowers. As the spirit read it, she was hit with numerous images of her life before she woke up there. She fell to her knees and began to cry, the grass and plants around her legs, including the name, turning black and dying. She sat there for a long time, but something told her the tree was still calling her. She stood (more like floated) up again and stared at it. She flashed her middle finger at it and flew off. She knew that she couldn’t be called what she was before, that she was a new entity now, so she needed a new name. Rather than picking something out of the blue, she settled on a nickname her boyfriend had called her what seemed like centuries before. Denestia.

Raphael was having a little fun, drawing flower patterns on trees and running from the spirits of said trees while laughing. Something then movd out of the corner of his eye and he turned. He saw her: Denestia. It didn’t matter that he had never seen her before. He thought she was beautiful. He decided that she would be more fun to fool around with than some simple tree spirits, that she was a little more mysterious and needed to be found out. So he approached her and held out a hand, grinning. “My name’s Raphael, and I believe you’re looking for me.”

Denestia had been searching the forest for a sign, any sign, as to why she was placed there in the first place, when she was met with a cheeky, freckled smile and a line she recognized as one used every time her boyfriend saw her. She blinked. The spirit in front of her was pointy eared and sharp-toothed, but she’d recognize that stupid grin anywhere. Raph. She leaned forward and hugged him, burying her head in his shoulders. “Raph, I’m so sorry.”

Raphael was still holding his arm out when the other spirit grabbed him. His grin faltered. “I-I’m sorry, have we met?” Denestia pushed herself off of him and looked at him. His smile was awkward and he was looking her up and down, but there was not a speck of recognition in his eyes. He did not remember her. She stared at him for a second, then turned her head away. “Oh. I thought you were someone else.”

Raphael smiled and put an arm around her, stating that it was fine and that it happened a lot. He re-introduced himself and asked Denestia for her name, which she reluctantly gave. He began to float alongside her and ramble about the different parts of the forest, casually slipping in flirts which went unnoticed by Denestia. He had decided to give her a tour, under the impression that she was new in the forest. Denestia listened to him, staring at him and trying to come to terms with the fact that no matter how much he acted like it, he was not the same Raph she knew. From the looks of it though, he was still completely smitten with her. Maybe things couldn’t go back to the way they used to be, but they could possibly get pretty damn close.

They’d been trying for years, and still Raphael and Denestia hadn’t figured out why they’d been placed under this curse, a curse that turned them into spirits of the forest and restricted them from leaving except for short periods of time, invisible or disguised as human. They needed to find something, or someone, to break the curse. It was Raphael’s idea to try to destroy the heart of the forest. So they tried. They started a fire.

8 years since the fire and they still had gotten nowhere closer to the destruction of the heart. The only thing the fire had brought was burnt trees and orphaned creatures, one of which Denestia adopted as her own, naming them December after the month of the fire. They could shapeshift into a wolf or a human at will, and their body and mind matured at twice the speed of a normal human. They loved Denestia as a mother, but somehow hated Raphael with a passion.

Raphael often went invisible and went into town, partially to find the way to lift the curse, but mostly to annoy the fluffy-haired mayor’s son and his friends. Until a new girl moved into town, a new girl who could see Raphael, even though he was invisible…

Raphael and Denestia: Descriptions

Raph Maxton (pre-curse): A heavily freckled boy, 5′8″ (172 cm), redhead. Often greases hair back, the natural curl annoys him. Pale and somewhat skinny. Cracks many jokes, often at inappropriate times. Has a very, very dirty mouth. Often very bruised up or injured. Aggressive and violent. Unpredictable in a predictable way. A liar. Has a self conscious side, never shows it.

Denise Buckland (pre-curse): A slightly dark-skinned girl, soft black-silver hair, 5′6″ (167 cm). Wears hair down, despises having product in it. Average weight. Purposely gives of the impression of nonchalant, often cares way more than thought. Sad often and barely ever smiles. Blunt and sarcastic a lot, but just never learned how to express herself. Often cares so much she forgets to understand.

Raphael (during/post-curse): Same height. Smooth purple skin, but still splattered with numerous white freckles. Pointed ears. Black whites of the eyes and purple irises (slitted pupils.) Dark purple hair and pointed tail, hair is still curly. Hands with long, sharp fingernails/claws. Doesn’t lie as much. Seems more relaxed, has less to worry about so nothing to get super aggressive over. Calmer, gentler, has a soft side. More dorky and awkward. Shows silly side more often and cracks even more jokes as before. Remembers minimal from pre-curse. Can heal plants. Can also kill plants.

Denestia (during/post-curse): Same height. Smooth bluish-grey skin. Dark silver hair. Black whites of the eyes and red irises (slitted pupils.) Sharp teeth. Sharp clawed hands. Feet are gone, legs fade off into translucence at the shin. Can turn living things rotten with a touch if she wanted. Thinks the curse is her fault. Unhappy but not too upset. Still loves Raphael. Plotting revenge. Awkward at conversation, still having not learned anything about expressing herself. Likes flowers. Sings sometimes. Remembers almost everything from pre-curse.

#THIS TOOK LIKE A WEEK DSKJLKJL #lms/int if you read the whole thing.#im. dying.#parents ment //#fire ment //#hospitals //#sickness //#death //#oc: raphael #oc: denestia #ocs #oc: december #;;⚓⚓#long post //

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dmgmoreno-blog · 7 years

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dmgtask 01 || cry me a river

Notes: Imogen experiences writer’s block and goes on a trip down memory lane.

TWs: None that I can think of. Imogen belittles her own problems a bit, which isn’t exactly healthy or recommended, but ??? I think that’s all fam

Imogen stared at the blinking line on her computer, as if willing it to produce words of its own accord. She was trying to figure out what on earth to write about for Mr. Mitchell’s creative writing class, and coming up totally blank. He’d told the class to dig deep for the first assignment and write about something that really represented their childhood, but Imogen was having a difficult time pinning down what exactly that would be for her.

Maybe it was the way her parents were always arguing- over money, whose turn it was to take her to school, money, who was supposed to do the dishes, and money again. Always with the money. The fighting really hadn’t started until she was a little older, though- probably around eight, and it was hardly something she’d consider crucial to her life experience. And it was really more a constant stream of bickering than actual fighting. so she she dug a little deeper and tried to find something else to write about.

Maybe it was the time her dad lost his job. She hadn’t fully understood what was going on back then, just that suddenly, they were moving out of the house and into a cramped apartment. He’d gotten a new job eventually, but the pay wasn’t as good- so the cramped apartment stayed. Come to think of it, that was probably the cause of the bickering, which still wasn’t important enough to write about. Something else, then.

Maybe it was the loneliness. Now that was something that had been around for most of her childhood. Being unapologetically herself had made certain aspects of her existence easier, but making friends certainly hadn’t been one of them. It wasn’t really that she was bullied per se, but there came a point where nobody really wanted to hang around with the school weirdo. It wasn’t like she hadn’t made any friends though, so loneliness wasn’t quite a defining aspect of her childhood either.

Maybe it was the time her best friend moved away, back at age five. She cried for days after that, refusing to come out of the pillow fort she’d made to protect herself from the rest of the world. She’d become a little more closed off after that... which probably explained some of the loneliness, actually.

Realizing that she was getting absolutely nowhere fast, Imogen let out a huff and pulled out her phone, deciding that a little check-in on Hastygram and FaceRange was what she needed if she was ever going to pull out of this weird, depressive childhood-related funk and think of something not terrible to write about. She wasn’t even sure why that was the direction her brain had initially gone in, anyway. It wasn’t like she had some tragic backstory in her rearview mirror- and even if she did, it certainly wasn’t something she’d want to share with the class.

Besides, there were people out there with real problems. It felt stupid complaining about hers when, all things considered, she’d had an alright childhood. Not terrible, not great... just sort of there. If anything, she decided, that was the real tragedy. That here she was at nearly eighteen years of age, and she’d yet to do anything truly meaningful.

#dmgtask

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