#☾ ─── ⋆ 𝐆𝐇𝐂𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 ⦈ ANSWERED .

[ghcstrain]

❝ if anyone needs their rest, it’s you. ❞ // MISCELLANEOUS SENTENCE PROMPTS // @praenunti , Kevin Day

Said the pot.

Hazel hues couldn't spare a shit even if he had one. Smoke obscured his line of sight, studying the sturdy frame of Exy's most beloved, most treasured and abused pup with little regard for his commentary. The day Kevin Day said something worth a grain of salt is the day Wymack lost weight. Neither of which is happening anytime soon.

He didn't ask, anyways, blowing smoke from between chapped lips begging for water. He's not anyone's goddamn concern, and he sure as hell wasn't asking Mother Hen over here for his goddamn opinion. Breaking his gaze in favor of the night sky and the shitty sight of the college campus around them.

"Kick rocks," Andrew remarked lazily, perched on the edge of the roof to their dormitory. His heart pounded, beating against his ribs. Straining against the copper cage that kept it bound, tightening by the second until breath became a second thought.

He loved it. It scared him. Two things can be true. Gotta love a good fucking oxymoron.

[ghcstrain]

❝ maybe we exist to bleed. maybe we exist to burn. ❞ // PINNED .. an assortment of quotes found on pinterest . // @placeabo , Theodore Nott

"Do you hear yourself?" Draco asked. Starry eyes danced with amusement, this statement far too serious and real for him to handle.

Not now. Not here.

Not where the world could see and perceive him for who he truly is. How they would peck at all his soft spots. Prying meat from bone, a meal fit for a King and all his dutiful followers. Each one just as blind as the last, feasting without question. How many of them here would kill to usurp him of title and rank?

"Anymore poetic," Draco began, "And I'll have to worry for your health and sanity."

Don't let them hear you. Don't let them see the wheels turning inside your heard. They cannot be privy to your fists beating behind the glass pane. Beat a little quieter.

This war is not ours but everyone's. This war is not everyone's but theirs. This war is not theirs but ours.

Yours.

And mines.

And anyone else who has been brought up to drink from the family cauldron. Draco drinks.

And so does Nott.

And Pansy.

And Blaise.

And anyone else who understood children must be seen not heard. It is safer this way.

"Another time, Nott," he cleared his throat, sinking further into the soft cushion adorning their common room with a book whose very first page escapes him.

As well as the title.

And the reason he had even picked it up in the first place.

[ghcstrain]

[ META ] + Osamu Ichijouji {for Ken}

♢      —        send  [ META ] + a word / phrase / person / etc  and i will write a head  canon around it.

Big brother.

That really is all and everything Osamu will ever be to Ken. Osamu was thee big brother and while their siblingship wasn't perfect ( nothing ever is ) it was everything he wanted from an older brother.

I don't think Ken's resentment stems from Osamu's shadow but more in response to his parents and their inexperience with parenting. With Osamu being so "easy" and "self-efficient" they expected the same from Ken. Osamu took care of Osamu. Ken asked for attention.

Now Osamu must take care of Ken.

With his death came grief. The "black spore" symbolism wasn't a bad depiction of depression. Ken was overwhelmed with grief over the loss of his brother. The isolation from his parents ( who genuinely didn't know what to do with their second child ) was more than enough to drive him into a place of darkness.

The fact that the spores can't actually be removed is a great depiction of how depression doesn't go away ( it's always lingering in the background ) you can only learn to live with it and manage the effects that came with it. The "seeds" thing is just like a reminder that despite being in a depressive state, your choices and actions still affect those around you.

Anyways, I digress.

Ken does not hate Osamu. He just wished he understood him better instead of expecting the world of him like their parents did. They were both incredibly young and in a difficult situation.

If Ken could see Osamu one more time, he would cry and apologize to him for being blissfully unaware. Although, a part of me believes Osamu wanted Ken to be.

Osamu lashing out at Ken is the results of burdens and expectations weighing him down or even wanting to be blissfully unaware like his younger brother.

idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[ghcstrain]

(Weirdly Specific Questions) 2 and 12 for Ken, and 6 for Yamato!

WEIRDLY SPECIFIC BUT HELPFUL CHARACTER BUILDING QUESTIONS

2. How loosely or strictly do they use the word ‘friend’?

Loosely.

And while I do believe Ken understands that not everyone should be taken at face value, acceptance makes him feel good. If they're charismatic, initiated conversations between them more than once, and go out of their way to include them as frequently as possible?

We must be friends.

Or rather, I must be your friend, and you might not be mine. It's good enough as long as they're kind.

12. What’s something that makes them laugh every single time? Be specific!

Wormmon.

Wormmon is the Ken Ichijouji expert. He has written the manual, the guidebook and the achievement guide on his partner. Without fail, Wormmon can make Ken laugh and all he needs to do is put on a silly voice while impersonating someone.

It's ridiculous! But it guarantees Ken's attention and keeps him grounded to their reality instead of wandering off.

Overly exaggerated impersonations, I have to say, will always get a laugh out of Ken. It's silly!

6. What’s their favorite [insert anything] that they’ve never recommended to anyone before?

Rice and butter, or butter noddles.

A easy and quick meal to state the stomach when he's cooking for himself or too tired to think about making a proper dinner. The ideal depression meal! Followed by rice and ketchup. He would eat it more frequently if it wasn't for the lack of nutritional value.

[ghcstrain]

❝ bless your soul ,  you’ve got your head in the clouds . ❞ // 𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑰𝑪 ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ 𝑺𝑶𝑼𝑳 . // @hcmlock , Timothy Stoker

Papers snatched from his hands, Gerard bolted right up. A retort on his lips as Tim walked away with his sketchbook, flipping through the pages carelessly.

"Don't you like--- have a job?"

An important one too, or whatever it was Tim did here at the institute. Not quite an assistant like Michael was but nothing like an archivist the way Gertrude was either. Annoyed at the disturbance when he was at peace where he laid on Tim's desk.

"Give it back," Gerard demanded, sitting on his knees where emerald hues could track the other's movement as Tim circled around the desk.

He reached out, not nearly fast enough to snatch the book back but quick enough to retain his balance, on the verge of toppling over if he hadn't caught the ledge.

"Tim."

It's weird. It's personal. It's intimate on the tongue. Timothy Stoke's name. A dusting of color tinted his face, faint and obvious with how paper white his complexion was.

"You're annoying," he conceded, sprawled out once more on the surface of Timothy's desk. His head hanging off this time around with the sun bleeding into the night sky pooling on the floor.

[ghcstrain]

❝ there’s something tragic about you . ❞ // 𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑰𝑪 ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ 𝑺𝑶𝑼𝑳 . // @hcmlock , Bellamy Blake

"Depends on where you're looking."

Murphy bristled, weary and on the edge. Ready to jump to his own defense and shove his foot down the other's throat.

Why? What is it? Where does it show and how does he kill it? Stomp it out beneath the heel of his boot like a smoldering cigarette. Disgruntled and upset with their fearless leader inviting himself into his personal space, making his own damn assumptions and stating his own damn opinions. Did he ask? Did he invite him to speak his mind?

No. He didn't. Bellamy doesn't get to shit to say shit because he ain't worth shit.

"Are we talking about the boy who licked your feet?" he asked.

"Or the one who was lynched by majority rule?"

Or better yet.

"Still waiting on a few of my fingernails to grow back, you know? Just in time for them to get snatched again."

He's bitter. He's jaded. He's tired of bringing up old shit and unable to move past it all the same with a vicelike grip on his throat. The noose tightens, imperfectly cut with it's fraying edge dragging at his feet.

"What do you want to talk about, Bellamy? Huh?" Antagonizing with every syllable, no dull teeth to show. Storms brewed within grey hues. A torrential downpour in the forecast.

"My past? My future? My present?"

All wasted. All tragic. All set on fire with the same match that lit the flames on the Ark. That guard never stood a chance. He ruined Murphy's life. The least he could do is ruin his night. And if he had just so happened to be in his room when it burst into flames?

Tough luck. Shit happens.

[ghcstrain]

❝ it’s getting hard to find a silver lining . ❞ // 𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑰𝑪 ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ 𝑺𝑶𝑼𝑳 // @hcmlock , Taichi Yagami

"Then make one."

The soft impact of warm ivory knuckles against a broad shoulder that carried more weigh than it should harkened back to a punch well delivered and earned. More words said in one hit than what was spoken.

"You need to make your own," Yamato clarified, leaning against the balcony railing. Arms crossed beneath his chin, cerulean hues watched the people down below come and go. Oblivious to the turmoil of a couple of kids who saw more than they needed to all too fast and at an age where none of it made sense.

Not that it made any now. Yamato is more confused now than when they started. Emotions both warm and cool stirred within his chest like a storm on the horizon. Each one stamped out in favor of playing the good friend when there's nothing good about himself. No silver lining to be found in being in love with your own best friend.

"I was miserable when my parents divorced," unprompted and yet, soft-spoken. A confession made where he's never made one before. Yamato doesn't talk about the divorce.

Or home.

Or his dad.

Or his... mother.

"One day, I was brought into this big room with this giant polished desk made from oak. Some big guy behind it asked me to sit down on these chairs where the cushion was so soft, you were sinking right through it!"

He laughed, bitterly and then... fondly.

" 'Which parent do you choose?' ", Yamato echoed, breathing in deeply as he recalled the weight of one decision and how it bore down on him, pushing him into the ground until he just... couldn't get back up.

"You see," Yamato began, watching the people below as if they could give him all the strength he needed back then, "Dad's a hot mess. He can't cook. He can't clean. He doesn't know the first thing about raising a kid. But he's my dad, you know?"

"And Takeru was just---" he breathed in deeply, straightening up as he gripped the railing tight, knuckles white, "--- So small. He was so new to everyone and everything and I....Couldn't just leave my dad, you know? I couldn't just... take Takeru from mom either. I mean--- He loved her."

"Mom."

"His mother."

"My mother came and went already," Yamato explained, wry smile in place with no recollection of the woman who gave birth to him, "And it was me and dad for awhile. So I thought... I couldn't stay with this woman who I didn't have any attachment to. I couldn't leave dad when mom had already left him. I couldn't take Takeru either."

"In the van with all our things packed into it... Dad looked me in the eyes through the rearview mirror and said, 'At least we still have each other. There's our silver lining.' "

"I've never hated my father as much as I did then."

"I----," voice raised, Yamato pulled back from the railing and yet, refused to let go. He strained his arms, tensing up the muscles there as he gripped the metal railing tighter and tighter until it hurt.

"I wanted to go back," he confessed.

"I wanted to go back to Takeru and his mom! I didn't want to spend the rest of my life picking up after a middle-age man who barely remembered to come home to his fucking son!"

Tears brimmed along the curve of his eyes. They clung to lashes thick and heavy, shimmering under the watchful gaze of the evening sun getting ready for bed.

"I love my dad," Yamato clarified, letting go of the railing finally as he turned to face Taichi, trying to bring this conversation back around full circle.

There's gotta be a point in here, he swears.

He rubbed at his knuckles, working blood flow through his fingers. Flexing each individual digit until the stiffness wore out.

"There was no silver lining."

"For awhile, I firmly believed nothing would ever get better again and then," he breathed in deeply, centering his racing heart and the quiver in his voice. All evidence of how deeply it is that Yamato feels.

"But then I met you," he pointed out, "And Gabumon."

"And we went on adventures where I was able to reconnect with my brother. I learned to let go and watch him grow from the sidelines, gaining friends I never want to let go."

"I can leave the apartment whenever I want," he smiled, listing the good things to have come out of his father's divorce.

"I don't have a curfew."

Just a self-imposed one.

"And I can visit Takeru whenever because who's going to stop me?"

He laughed.

"I have a band," he pointed out as well.

"I made that," Yamato stated firmly, beating at his chest, "I made those friends. I reconnected with Takeru. I turned myself into a musician."

"You don't need to find a silver lining, Taichi," Yamato breathed out, smiling fondly at the Chosen Children's one and only leader. The tide of emotions welled up within has settled down.

"You need to make one."

Like he did. Like he did with Taichi.

[ghcstrain]

❝ don’t treat me like some situation that needs to be handled . ❞ // 𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑰𝑪 ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ 𝑺𝑶𝑼𝑳 // @hcmlock , Neil Josten

Height doesn't mean shit when you have the will and determination to beat shit into a shithead. Not excluding Neil 'Motherfucking' Josten.

Knuckles white; nothing compared to Andrew's vicelike grip when you're on the receiving end. Calloused fingers tore into the collar of Neil's shirt, backed up against the lockers. Hazel eyes hardened over an open flame fueled solely by the naivety and stupidity of this fucking runaway.

He's not some fucking situation that needs to be handled?

"Listen, Junkie," Andrew began, seething through clenched teeth, "Every time you open your goddamn mouth, shit happens."

The branding; the scars. Cigarette burns reminiscent of a college dropout wanting to be the next Seurat. Neil doesn't get to fucking decide if he's a situation or not.

"Answer your fucking phone."

The minimum requirement. Bee should see him now. She'd be jumping for fucking joy hearing him state his needs and want. No knife, just fists. Baby steps, right?

It's not the answer.

It's not the way he wants to be able to get his point across. If he has to get his shit together then why can't Neil? Out here with a brand new lock to hide behind while Andrew's patience wore thin.

Stop running off.

Say it

Stop bottling it up all inside when they've already seen the worst in one other. Ugly scars and dicks alike.

It's like talking to a brick wall, and shouldn't they be past that point by now?

Tch.

Tension evaporated from his body like steam, melting away as his grip loosened up. Letting him go as if he hadn't slammed Neil up against the lockers just a second ago.

"You know what?" Andrew breathed out, taking a step back from his whatever.

"Whatever."

Two can play at this game. If Neil wanted to let old habits die hard, Andrew could bring back a few of his own. Reverse psychology, Nicky would say. Everyone around him is a dumbass, Andrew would say, backing away.

He doesn't need to give Neil shit if Neil won't give back, pulling a page from the notebook of one Allison Reynolds. Fucking hell.

[ghcstrain]

❝ i kinda like it when you talk to me the way you do . ❞ // 𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑰𝑪 ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ 𝑺𝑶𝑼𝑳 // @hcmlock , sirius black

"Degradingly?" Severus asked, brow raised and a wry smile well in place where rouge colored lips creased. Seeking clarification when such a thing came from thin air.

The battle has been long won on their part. Sat astride the last living Black heir's lap as they dabbed ointment where the skin beneath his jaw began to flake. Like a stray dog riddled with fleas, Severus has their work cut out for them. Easing baths out of this ungrateful mutt while simultaneously taking the lashes he delivered in retaliation.

Nimue best let them pass those golden gates or else. Not that they gave a rat's ass where their forsaken soul wound up. Severus would be more than happy with a Noble Peace Prize for the patience and self-restraint they've exercised. Never mind the stray hex or two --- dozen--- in-between rounds. Say nothing about how they've managed to wrangle him into a chair, tied by ropes enchanted by the finest witch of their age.

"I find it hardly surprising you'd harbor a degradation kink," they confessed, working their way down the length of Sirius' neck with a satin cloth drenched in the concoction he refused to drink.

"If only you were good at following commands," they mused aloud, boldly meeting eyes of starlight.

"Sit."

"Stay."

"Roll over."

They demonstrated. Each command firmer and steadier then the last.

"Obedience school failed you," Severus remarked, dabbing at a sore spot where the skin has turned sour in color.

[ghcstrain]

❝ you didn’t think it’d be so much fun . ❞ // 𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑰𝑪 ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ 𝑺𝑶𝑼𝑳 // @hcmlock , takeru takaishi

"No," Ken confessed, nursing a cup of hot chocolate between his hands, violet eyes downcast, shimmering with mild embarrassment, "I didn't."

And why would he?

When all is said and done it does not amend his past actions. It does not makeup for the pain he has caused and the lives he has taken. It does not nurse the wound that playing God has left behind. The crowd loud around them, drowning out a sea of thoughts eager to drag him down.

Head tilted to the side, pushing these notions to the furthest depths of his mind. Ken offered to shed some light, explaining himself as they walked among the stalls, weaving through the crowd. Always one step behind Takeru as he led the way, taking point on their quest to reunite with the rest of Takeru's friends.

"I'm still getting used to the invitations," he clarified. "Old habits, as they say."

"Wormmon says I'm waiting for trouble," he smiled wearily, continuing, "For the next dark spiral to drop from the sky and upend my life."

Truer words could not have been spoken.

"But I'm glad I'm here," he breathed out.

Truly.

"So..." he stalled, pale features tinted pink. "Thank you."

For the invitation; the extended hand no longer solely from Daisuke. It made a difference. It eased the stirring of guilt at the pit of his stomach. Quieted the desire to hole himself up where the comfort of blankets heavy and thick could weigh him down and keep him anchored to this world.

"For the hot chocolate, of course," Ken teased, writing their own subconscious off as it lurked in the shadows. Drowned out by the cries of joy among the crowd, contestants winning prizes at these shoddy carnival stalls.

He shook his cup, taking another sip from it eagerly. The bitter sweetness of a darker flavor blessed him with the warmth he craved from such a cold night out. The price of a burnt tongue is well worth it. Covering his mouth as he recoiled from the scalding hot liquid.

[ghcstrain]

❝ that’s a spatula. ❞ // MISCELLANEOUS SENTENCE PROMPTS // @praenunti , Kevin Day

"No shit."

The Earth is round, God's some bitch with PMS and Danny is fucking the soul out of Matt. See? He could state the obvious too, scowling in return.

He stood there, hazel hues studying the world's dumbest Golden Retriever. A spatula in one hand, a plate of freshly made pancakes in the other with a yellow raggedy apron around his waist.

Yeah?

What of it?

The heavenly aroma of darkened flour made sweet with the most delicate pinch of sugar wafted through their shared room, rousing one of two idiots glued to the screen. Watching reruns of Exy games Andrew knew for a damn fact they could recite the play-by-play word for word without taking a single breath.

One braincell. Two idiots. The bedroom stinks. The pancakes only made it slightly worse.

"Touch it," Andrew began, setting the plate down on the shitty kitchen table they had, kept balanced by an Encyclopedia they found, "And I break your other hand."

[ghcstrain]

& general tag dump

☾ ─── ⋆ 𝐆𝐇𝐂𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 ⦈ PINNED POST .

☾ ─── ⋆ 𝐆𝐇𝐂𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 ⦈ OOC .

☾ ─── ⋆ 𝐆𝐇𝐂𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 ⦈ ANSWERED .

☾ ─── ⋆ 𝐆𝐇𝐂𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 ⦈ MEME .

☾ ─── ⋆ 𝐆𝐇𝐂𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 ⦈ SELF PROMO .

☾ ─── ⋆ 𝐆𝐇𝐂𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 ⦈ PROMO .

☾ ─── ⋆ 𝐆𝐇𝐂𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 ⦈ QUEUE .