#ALSO FUCK LIGHT POLLUTION I WAS AT A PLACE WHERE THERE WERE NO LIGHT SOURCES NEARBY AND OMG THE STARS LOOKED SO COOL???

[rayofmisfortune]

My obsession with space has gotten so bad I started yapping about what I know to my parents, send help

[frostahesmegabite]

How would he react, if he were transported into a "Steampunk" or "Cyberpunk" universe? 🤔 (I'll let you choose between the two.)

[ Good question @jacobdcheshyre! Thankfully with WoW and the Mechagon patch we had, I pretty much got to have that Steampunk sort of vibe for a little bit with the whole scrap yard piping everywhere sort of bit. Albeit, I know that's not 100%, but it gave me a good feel for how excited Mega would be! Needless to say, he walked away from that expansion with several new weapons designs and ideas as well gadgets and a new-found sense of purpose and inspiration. So, for a quick IC post, I'm gonna roll out with Cyberpunk. Now, forewarning, my knowledge here is limited, not out of lack of caring, just never got much time to explore it and my knowledge comes pretty much from Cyberpunk 2077 game, so I'm gonna essentially adapt him for that sort of lore/canon. ] A blinding flash of light and colors occurs! This isn't right! They're not only offensive to the eyes, but each sudden shift comes with a smash of concussive energy as if being hit by a sudden wash of air from an arriving hurricane. The largest problem isn't that it isn't just one, but a reoccurrence whose frequency is picking up in rapidity while being accompanied with the sudden shift of falling! Meghes begins to flip and roll, losing any track of what's up and down and he screams out into the cascade of colors! "Turn tha fuckin machine off! Bring me back!" Panic wasn't setting it, it was already there and was choking him out as he couldn't stabilize due to the turbulence and lack of identification on what was up or down, left or right! Bam! Bam! Bambam! BamBamBam! BAMBAMBAMBAM! Each forceful blow sent him flying in a whole new direction and he'd suddenly vomit, near ready to lose consciousness from it. Then... it settles and a bright light nearly blinds him, forcing his hands up just for him to realize that it's the Sun! Thank the Light! Maybe that was a bit to early though as he realizes he's still in freefall. This he can handle now that he has direction and he quickly flips around, gaining his bearing just to realize this sure as fuck isn't Azeroth anymore! As he flies down towards the ground, smooth towers of steel and glass stab up at the morning sky as if they were pointing up at his point of entry! He tries to scream, asking where the hell he's at but at this speed, words at lost and someone might as well have a leafblower pointed at his mouth. Around this moment is where reality kicks in and he sees the ground coming up -fast- and he casts a Feather Spell! Nothing. Panic sets in and he tries again. Still. Nothing. His mouth opens to scream but it sounds more akin to a blarglglgh! than actual vocabulary. He begins to slap himself, patting himself down for anything, mana crystals? All gone. No recharge. What the fuck?! His hands get to his vest, feeling around. Magical items all gone. Gold damn it! His hands go to his belt buckle, every goblin hand one and thank what the hell ever was watching over him, his belt was still there! His fingers twist off the buckle and he's given a small remote that's palmed and he hits the bright red button upon it, instantly activating his set of rocket boots so he can slow his descent! This wasn't going to save him, there wasn't enough fuel for that, but he had to slow down for the next part or he'd surely just fall to his death! With a few stalling blasts, the device in his hand begins to go off with alarms, warning to a low fuel source and with his other hand, he goes to his work vest and jerks on a rip cord! His clothing explodes out the back (thankfully not out of his ass!) and Goblin Glider's wings extend to the left and right above him as the boots propel him forward as opposed to down, helping to offer leverage so he can steer and glide down properly! Mega would need to thank Maxwell for that. Now though that this emergency was coming to a standstill, he begins to look around, trying to figure out just where the fuck he's at. "Tha hell did that Portal Machine take me..." Mega's body shakes from the adrenaline spike, but he maintains a grip as he soars overhead some mile up off the ground. His red eyes look

over the ground, trying to figure out who the hell built all of this! Was it Goblins? No. Not enough pollution or explosions, at least not here anyways. Gnomes? Maybe... but they tended to favor underground facilities and this certainly wasn't that either! Slowly, people come into better view and the site of vehicles and street vendors and people come into view and the signs! Oh all the signs! So many colors and advertisements! If it wasn't for all the humans plastered and shoved into all of them, he'd swear this was some kind of Goblin City centered entirely on Commerce and Trade, but that's when it hits him. This is nothing but Humans and Humans weren't like this... At least... not back on the Azeroth he knew. He needed time to process this, but with all the new sights and sounds, it was hard to do, even from way up here! "Where the fuck did that portal put me?!" He screams out, a new type of concern coming to mind now as he begins to look for a place to land. There's fucking people everywhere and while he's not familiar with what type of vehicles he's seeing, he sure as hell knows a road (Thanks Kezan!) when he sees one and he makes sure to steer clear from the Highway and the massive metal boxes going gold knows how fast! He starts to scan quickly, there! Trash bags! A heap of crap and junk on the ground, perfect! He begins to steer his glider into an Alleyway, bringing himself in and slowing his assent along the way until his feet touch down and he's left running. He plants his feet and pulls back against the Glider, using it as a counterweight to bring him to a skidding stop just before his crash pad of foul smelling trash! Phew! Mega didn't care about the Glider anymore at this point, nope! It was spent and he'd begin to rush towards the Alleyway entrance, hiding behind a dumpster to scan the area around him. "Well... smells like trash and shit here but... these humans." He pauses, seeing a human walk by with a set of massive mechanical arms that look like they could pulverize stone! But, they move so smoothly! They surpass anything he ever saw with Naturasu's prosthetics or anything the Gnomes or even Draenei came up with! These things moved as if they were essentially organic, but they weren't! Something in Mega's brain breaks in that moment and any fear or concern he has, suddenly floods out of him and is replaced by pure unadulterated excitement and he rushes into the street, scaring the every living fuck out of someone who thought he was some kind of overgrown rat or lab experiment until they see him dressed and moving with purpose! Megahes runs into the crowd and ocean of people, awe and amazement clear on his face as he gets way to close to several people with clear prosthetics and even some of them with weapons right there on their hips or backs! And some of their suits! Mega was in heaven! So many new things to explore! So much to try to take back... [For the sake of this already being -massive-, I'm gonna OoC cut in here and say that I think it's very fair that Megahes would probably have mental orgasms as he learned about everything and while he would try to find a way home, he'd also be working to try to learn as much about all of this that he can so he can take these ideas and designs home as well. Even if he wouldn't ever get back home, his apartment, home or where ever the hell he ended up staying would end up stuffed with nearly every schematic and idea design he could think of to take back. ]

[keravnous]

I’ve noticed that Edwards likes telescopes. There’s one on the rooftop above his office at Sgail and one can be seen in his meeting room where he logs in to talk to the Partners. It might just be put there by IOI to hammer home the idea that Providence is all-seeing but I have two different ideas: one SFW and one NSFW. I’ll put the NSFW in a separate ask cause idk if you'll be into it and this is already a long post lol.

The SFW idea is that he enjoys stargazing. I think it kind of suits him given how purposeful he is. Always looking up, always striving for more. When the poor, overworked guy needs to recharge during the Ark Society event, he heads up to the tower roof to relax and have some alone time. He treats himself to a little slice of cheesecake and wine (you can see it on the table in the game) while peering up at his favorite constellations. Marveling at how clear they are without all the light pollution you’d get in the city.

Or maybe he brings a Herald that he admires to the event. They eat, drink, and swap eavesdropped information over faint music from the courtyard. The effigy glows a warm, flickering orange in the distance. The waves surround the tower with the pleasant scent of sea water.

He shyly motions to the telescope and the Herald accepts when he invites them to have a look through it. Edward’s eyes light up as he points out different stars. Ever so gently, he places his hand on their back, ready to quickly retrieve it should they recoil. But they don’t, much to his relief. While they peek through the scope, he leans in and regales them with the stories behind the constellations' names. Orion and the scorpion, Perseus and Andromeda… His voice is so soft in their ear and his body so warm against them in the cool night. It’s a completely different side to him. One the Herald grows very fond of.

this 🥺

I am not too sure if I can fulfill the nsfw request, but I tried to give this one here a little nsfw undertone

the mentioned song: youtube / spotify

_

This wasn't your first time attending the annual Ark Society gathering at the Isle of Sgail but it sure was your first time making your way, let alone entering, the Constant's tower.

Miss Vidal had handed you a dossier earlier that night and requested that you'd bring it to the Constant yourself, being one of her most trusted associates. You heard your heartbeat hammer in your skull, it made your whole body vibrate with both, excitement and anxiety, as you gave a sharp knock to the massive wooden doors. The guards had immediately recognized your Providence pin and had let you past with no further questions, given the file savely tucked away under your arm.

Slowly, and your nearly expected the hinges to shriek, the door opened and you came face to face with an old man, white hair and - that, that was clearly not Mister Edwards. You were glad that the mask covered at least half of your face, your brows furrowing in both confusion and slight amusement.

"Yes, Miss/Mister?", he sharply clicked his heels and looked at you, an unreadable gaze locking with your eyes. A cold shiver ran down your spine. He seemed like a butler, and maybe he really was, but there was something in his eyes that seemed to pierce right through your carefully built facade, that screamed killer to you.

"Good evening, Sir", you smiled your most charismatic smile, "My name is y/n, Miss Vidal has sent me."

"Ah yes of course, we have been informed. Please, do come in", he took a step backwards and opened the door completely. The air inside was warm and your anxiety was immediately calmed by the dark and cozy interior as you entered the tower. So, this was it, huh? This was his place, the place of the most powerful man on earth. You had expected something a little more ... modern, maybe? More Bond villain-ish, sharp edges and light colours but this looked at lot more like the set of a period drama.

"Mister Edwards is already expecting you. This way, please", the butler lead you towards the staircase and stretched out his arm invitingly. You took a deep breath and muttered a quiet Thank you, Sir underneath your breath, slowly ascending the stairs. You heard music and someone humming along with the tune. The soft barritone sent a shiver down your spine, much more pleasant than the one minutes earlier, right down your stomach, leaving a warm and fuzzing feeling. His voice was beautiful. You rarely heard him speak and it was hard to make out the warmth of his voice in his whispering tone but now it was clearer and louded and it wrapped around your head, your whole body, like a warm blanket. You took you first steps across the perfectly polished floor and peaked around the corner.

He was lanky and tall, even more visible now with his jacket off, the crisp white shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows. You had never seen him that casually and he also seemed rather relaxed as well, seemingly focussed on a telescope that stood near one of the massive, opened windows of his office.

You stood there, unsure wether to interrupt him or not, he was the Constant after all. With all the rumours that surrounded him and powered the slight dusk of myths and speculations that wafted around him you had totally forgotten that he was human after all.

It was a rather endearing sight, really. It made your stomach twist a little, spread warmth through your abdomen as he kept on making adjustments to the telescope and quietly humming along with the tune.

You did not have any track of the time that passed, while you stood there still and unmoving, the file still under your arm, watching him watching the clear night sky, before his warm voice suddendly left the lyrics, was replaced by an equally warm chuckle.

"I find the stars to be much more interesting to watch than the gazer himself, if I may be that direct."

Your heart dropped. Fuck, you fucked up. You prepared yourself for him to throw a fit, threaten you or just having you shot by his creepy-not so innocent-looking butler right on the spot.

"I- uh, Sir, I am very sorry - I just, it's- I'm-", well, wasn't that just very professional of you.

Arthur turned around to you, his expression surprisingly open and friendly, his lips curled up in a slight smile.

"The file I assume, yes?"

"Yes, right here", you took a few steps forward and he met you halfway, wrapping his delicate fingers around the slim folder.

"Thank you very much", he held your gaze for a few seconds longer and then nodded towards the little coffee table, "A glas of wine, maybe?"

You felt your brain errupting in a high frequency static noise.

"What?"

He chuckled again, a deep and low sound, a little amused and a little snobby that did things to your groin.

"Wine. A red one", he turned around to the table and eyed the bottle, "Argentinian, I believe, one of Yates'."

You swallowed. This was certainly not happening. He turned around to you once more. "So?"

Fuck it. "Yes, please."

The following hour then passed by like a cold breeze on a warm summer day and you found yourself really enjoying his company, his witty and dry humour, the way he listened to you and gave well reflected and soft spoken replies.

"Am I still right about my very early assumption that you have never watched the stars before?", he tilted his head a little.

"No, not really. Not like this", you gestured towards the telescope.

"Would you like to try?", he recognized your hesitation and got up, offering you his hand, "I am convinced you will very much enjoy it."

Carefully, like a deer in the headlights, you took his hand and got up, while he led you towards the opened window as Arthur took a scrutinizing look through the telescope and gestured you closer. You leaned down a little and looked through the objective and your breath hitched.

The stars were so close and so bright and it was nothing like taking a lamely look towards the sky on a night out in the busy streets of London. It was fascinating. A surprised laugh left your lips and you heard him chuckle again behind you. He was much closer than you expected him to be.

"Surprised, hm?", he hummed.

"Well, yes. It's - They're beautiful."

"It must be Cassiopeia you're looking at, that constellation is the most present during these months."

He guided you across the night sky, leaning over your shoulder and adjusting the telescope or leaning in close to explain the constellations and their names to you. It left your head spinning and heart thrumming in your chest and you felt like you could've dropped dead the second that he put his hand on the small of your back, right underneath the dark blue robe you were wearing over your formal wear.

You felt the warmth of his fingers radiating through the thin layer of clothing and a sigh escaped your lips. Your cheeks immediately heated up with crimson red but he continued to rub soft, soothing circles over your back. "This one right here is Orion, sometimes believed to affect certain sign's love life."

"Is that so?", you had huffed out while feeling him pressing against you, his warm breath that smells faintly of expensive red wine and cigarettes grazed your cheek.

"Well, I like to believe that society evolved from that. You know, that we start to rely on more reliable sources."

"Such as?"

"Increase in body temperature", his hand sneaked forward, placed itself on your stomach and pressed your body flush against his, "Fast heartbeat -"

He came closer, you could feel the tip of his nose against the nape of your neck. You shouldn't. He was technically not only your boss, but also so much more, so much more important to the world's fate than you were. But he felt good against you and his quiet barritone sent shivers down your spine.

"Loss of words."

"Is that so?", you heard yourself whisper, a sharp, needy and rather unknow edge to your own voice.

You felt his lips grazing over your neck and how they softly turned into a slight smile.

"Sometimes, yes", you felt how he slowly detached his body from yours and you suddendly felt how cold the room had gotten, given the opened window and rather cold autumn night, "Another glas of wine, maybe?"

Who were you to even think of declining such an offer?

[poisonedapples]

Lasting Impressions - Chapter One: Three Hours Before

Summary: Virgil makes a good friend at the weirdest time of day; four in the morning, where everyone and their dog is fast asleep. However, deciding to befriend that person ends up getting him into a lot more trouble than he could ever suspect. His new friend ended up going missing that same night. And Virgil was the last person to see him alive.

Chapter Warnings: Kidnapping, missing people, nightmares and anxiety, mentions of death, mentions of murder (regarding Disney characters), blood, mentions of drunkenness/alcohol, and swearing

Pairings: Familial Royality, platonic Prinxiety that still flirt with each other in this chapter

Word Count: 4,307

Notes: Heed the warnings, as this story (although not mentioned a lot in this chapter) will contain missing people, kidnapping, and its fair share of violence as we go along the story. Always read chapter triggers before you dive in, and if there’s a chapter or scene you can’t read, you can always DM me for a less graphic or trigger free version of it.

It was 3:51 AM when Virgil felt himself jolt awake in a cold sweat.

He frantically turned his bedside table lamp on, ignoring the pain of the blinding light on his adjusting eyes. It wasn’t often he got nightmares anymore, but God when he did, they were horrible. He could always barely remember what it was about; something with not being able to scream and a weird creature chasing him, but nothing more than that. Instead he was left to shake in his bed and attempt to breathe in for four seconds.

In for four...hold for seven- fuck, wait-...four...hold for seven…come on! In for four...sev- Are you fucking kidding me!?

Virgil jumped out of bed, ignoring the weakness in his legs and shakiness of his arms and threw on his hoodie and a pair of jeans. He only bothered with putting on a sports bra, instead of trying to breathe in his binder, then stuffed his phone in his pocket and walked out his bedroom door. He was careful not to slam it to not alert his roommate Elliott, instead quietly scooting himself to the front door of their apartment. Despite his haste, he double checked to make sure he locked the door before going down the apartment steps. Like always, Elliott would be none the wiser.

Virgil walked out to the front of the apartments and took a left down the block. His body was still shaking, but the fresh air always helped.

It’s fine. You’re fine.

...It’s gonna be another one of these days, isn’t it?

Virgil sighed. Anxiety was always the worst. Sometimes, all it took was for you to wake up in a certain mood and hope it was gone by the next day. He’d certainly gotten better over the years when it came to nightmares and having to run away at terrible times in the night, but disorders never completely went away. Not that he’d heard of, at least.

The air had a different feeling to it outside. Fall was cooling the atmosphere and giving Virgil a kind of contentment he could only reach in this time of year. Halloween decorations had filled store shelves before September ended, though none of those stores were open at this time in the early morning. Instead, Virgil walked down the street and occupied himself with looking at street lights and the occasional car passing by.

The very, very occasional car.

Virgil plucked his earbuds out of his hoodie pocket and plugged them into his phone, putting a random playlist on scramble to drown out the eerie silence. Everything was so quiet at this time. Usually in the city, the streets would be so noisy Virgil was more at risk of a sensory overload than being this kind of uneasy. In a way, walking alone in the dark was the worst way to recover from a nightmare, no matter how many times it became his solution. He felt watched.

...Shut up, no, don’t think like that. No panic attacks for you. Not in the middle of the damn street.

Virgil pressed his earbuds deeper into his ears, as if that could muffle his thoughts the same way it damaged his hearing.

At least the air was a nice change of pace. Fresh air always helped him when he felt like he couldn’t breathe, and now the chills in his body could be explained with a different reason. Even if it really wasn’t that cold outside.

Virgil felt the cold bring a sudden wind to the back of his feet. He almost jumped three feet in the air as his mind raced with thoughts of someone’s chasing you, but as he looked around, no one was there. 

He saw something move in the corner of his eye and jumped again. 

Virgil kept deathly still, like any sudden movement would bring this mysterious shadow to kill him. The only thing keeping him sane was the emo music blasting through his earbuds, the rest looking like something out of one of his horror movies.

He saw something in the corner of his eye again, shooting to look at the black blob right next to his foot. He took a sudden, sharp breath to stop himself from screaming such a sketchy time of night and darted his head around to find the source.

Underneath Virgil’s feet was a very offended looking squirrel. Before he could smack himself in the face for being an idiot, the creature scurried away and disappeared in a dark alleyway.

Virgil rubbed at his eyes. Jesus, he thought, I’m really on edge. It’s just a damn squirrel.

Still, Virgil turned around and walked faster until the alleyway was out of his sight. He sighed and attempted to calm himself down a little, but his chest still felt ready to burst from all the fear. He breathed in deeply, then out again.

His hands still shook, but it was okay.

Everything is alright.

He paused his speed walk long enough to continue his breathing patterns. He focused on the feeling of nighttime air instead of the what-ifs. He looked up to gaze at the dim stars, barely visible from so much light pollution, but still a soothing presence. With each time he counted a second of breathing in, he counted another star in the sky. The sight of twinkling lights with a bright moon in the sky was more than calming. It reminded him of the nights he’d spend on his parents roof, looking up and not bothering to think about what was down on Earth.

Up there, everything was quiet. Peaceful. There was no sound or responsibility. No student loans or nightmares, only emptiness with chunks of rock and gas. The chaos was too far away for you to really be bothered with it, you could watch from afar and be completely safe on your own floating rock. Out there, nothing mattered.

Virgil closed his eyes and took a deep breath in. Everything is quiet. Everything would be okay.

The peacefulness was all that really mattered.

“Why hello, handsome!”

“Fuck!”

Virgil’s whole body jolted like an electric shock when an unexpected hand touched his shoulder. He yanked his earbuds out and turned to his attacker with wide eyes, fully ready to fucking slice the dude.

The idiot only smiled and waved. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you so badly! Are you alright?”

Virgil blinked. “Uh, yeah. I’m fine, thanks.”

Before he could put his earbuds back in, the guy put both his hands on Virgil’s biceps and pulled his arms down. Virgil was fully ready to knock his teeth out and make a run for it, but before he could reel his arm back, he noticed blood and scratches all over the guy’s face.

Virgil did a double take at him long enough for the guy to get his damn hands off of him and smile. “I mean more than you being okay after I scared you. You seem to be quite on edge in general.”

Bitch, why do you care? “Well, it’s the asscrack of night, better be safe than sorry if you don’t wanna get murdered.”

He laughed. “Fair point, fair point. And what are you doing out at a time you call ‘the asscrack of night’, as you so elegantly worded it?”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “How about it’s none of your business?”

The guy put his hand on his chest in feign offense. “So cruel to me! Here I was, trying to be a humble citizen and help you out, and this is the thanks I get?”

He rolled his eyes. “Get used to disappointment. The only reason I didn’t pummel you is because you look like a wreck.”

The guy put a hand to his face. “Is it the blood?”

“It’s definitely the blood.”

“Ugh, I suppose that’s what I get for trying to have a good time so late in the night! I’ll admit, I’m exhausted and also a little buzzed. So maybe trying to befriend a cat at 3 in the morning wasn’t my greatest idea.”

“It looks like that cat wanted to gut you alive.”

“... I’m not the best with animals.”

Virgil couldn’t help but roll his eyes and laugh. Something about a tipsy guy trying to flirt after being attacked by a cat was hilarious. “You sound like an idiot.”

“Just a little bit! But that’s what’s so endearing about me, I like to imagine.”

“You keep imagining then, Princey.”

The guy seemed to freeze in place. “... Princey?”

Virgil’s eyes widened, awkwardly coughing to try and play himself off as collected. Damnit Virgil, play it off! “Well I don’t know your name, and you sound like a spoiled, dramatic prince, so… You’re Princey now.”

The guy chuckled. Nailed it. “I guess that makes sense, I am very dramatic. But that’s just what makes me wonderful.”

“You tell yourself that.”

Virgil started to walk ahead of Princey, only for him to stumble over his feet to keep his pace with Virgil. At least he wasn’t too drunk, and he certainly didn’t seem harmless. Of course, Virgil hadn’t known him that long, but right now he just seemed like a major dork who wanted to talk to someone.

Relatable, honestly.

The guy kept his pace next to Virgil, though staying a reasonable distance away before standing up proudly and smiling again. “Though if you want to know my real name...it’s Roman. Roman Goldsberry.”

Virgil hummed. “S’up Roman. I’m not telling you my name, though.”

Roman gasped. “Why not!?”

“Because I’m not gonna make it that easy for you to find where I live and murder me.”

Roman shrugged and nodded his head. “Okay, fair. I guess.”

“Maybe if I meet you in a less sketchy place, I’ll consider telling you my name.”

“I suppose I’ll have to call you something else until then. Something that suits you.”

“Oh really? What do you think suits me?” Virgil asked.

“Something dark and brooding, maybe with a dash of paranoia. After all, that hoodie you have is quite the emo aesthetic.”

“You picked up my vibes pretty quickly there, damn.”

“I have many talents! Now, as for something to call you…” Roman seemed to think about it for a long time, “...I think I’ll call you Emo Nightmare!”

Virgil reeled. “...Thank you. Best compliment I’ve ever gotten.”

Roman pouted like a toddler who dropped their candy. “Compliment!? Well now I can’t call you that! If you’re going to be so rude to me, then I should be able to be rude back!”

Virgil smirked, “Really now? Go ahead then, make a nickname that offends me.”

Roman seemed to think about it again, “Gerard Wayward?”

“Clever, but I don’t think you know what wayward means.”

“I’m only warming up! How about Brad Pitiful?”

“That one’s just funny.”

“Count Woelaf!”

“My feelings have yet to be hurt.”

“Surly Temple? JD-lightful? Incredible Sulk?”

“Literally where the fuck are you getting these?”

Roman put his hands on his hips. “I’m good at improv! Oh! What about Henry Ravens-brood?”

Virgil put an offended hand to his chest. “Now that one is mean. Congrats Princey, you just offended me.”

Roman clapped his hands together. “Fantastic! I knew I could- wait...you know Phantom Manor?”

Virgil shrugged. “What can I say, I’m a Disney fan.”

“You? A fan of fairytales and magic? I find that hard to believe based on your everything.”

“You barely even know me dude, don’t give yourself so much credit.” Virgil tried not to smile at Roman’s dramaticized offense. “And that’s way too much of an oversimplification for Disney. I mean seriously, Constance Hatchaway fucking murdered ten of her husbands! Who even marries that many people?”

“I’ll have you know that she had five husbands, not ten! Also that hardly counts, it’s a ride all about ghosts! Of course people have to die!”

“Doesn’t mean she had to hack them to death. They could have toned down the axe murdering part.”

“Please, that’s nothing compared to the scene where Mufasa gets trampled. It’s not like you watch the murder happen, you only see it implied with the paintings and when her bouquet turns into an axe on the ride!”

Virgil smirked. “So you admit that Disney can get dark sometimes.”

Roman scoffed, seemingly at a loss of words. “I never said that!”

“You literally just said that Mufasa’s death scene is really dark.”

“It was a necessary part of the plot! Simba would have grown up to be a selfish king who only cared for power if he didn’t have to save everyone from Scar!”

“Doesn’t change the fact that it’s super dark and not just ‘fairytales and magic’, Princey.”

Roman did an overdramatic, offended gasp as his hand went to his chest once again. Is that the only emotion this dude knows? “I can not believe you! Twisting my words in such a fiendish way!”

“Seriously dude, are you a clown or some shit as your day job? Because the way you act is kind of hilarious.”

The offense dropped from Roman’s face almost immediately, replaced with a soft, yet still prideful smile better fit for this time at night. “I’m going to ignore the clown part and say that actually, I’m an actor for the community theater only a couple blocks from here. That usually tends to explain my behavior to people.”

“Sounds about right, yeah. You any good?” Virgil asked.

“I like to imagine so! In three days from now, I’ll be playing the lead of Fiddler on the Roof for our fall musical! I’m usually too busy to make the bigger shows, but I tried my best to find the time this year.” Roman’s proud smile faltered for a moment into something softer, more sad. Like he was suddenly grieving a lost memory. “...Though I might end up having to miss it after all.”

Virgil tilted his head to the side. “Why’s that?”

Roman shrugged, and for a second, Virgil could see past the dramatics and pride. He looked lonely, almost. “Personal stuff. Since you won’t even tell me your name, I believe I’m inclined to keep that information to myself.”

“You always tease people this much?”

Roman chuckled. “Not usually. But I am exhausted, so maybe I’m a little slap happy.”

Virgil pulled out his phone to look at the time. 4:19 AM. Holy shit. “Yeah, no wonder. It’s late as shit, and I gotta wake up at eleven today.”

“I think maybe you should go home then. I would offer to walk you, but considering you won’t say your name, I doubt you’ll let me know your address.”

“You got that right. You should go home too, before someone kidnaps you.”

Roman stopped suddenly, right below a street light. He turned around to face Virgil with such a sad smile, but Virgil couldn’t tell if that was from exhaustion or not. He looked at Virgil so softly for a long moment in a way that made him feel vulnerable. “Perhaps you’re right, but don’t worry your angsty heart about it, I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah, fair.”

“Though, you are making me think, Emo Nightmare.”

Virgil tried his hardest not to blush. “Think about what?”

“Maybe you would like to see the show?” Roman asked, “I won’t be able to participate, but I’d love to hear how it went. And if you like Disney, maybe you can appreciate a classic musical as well.”

Virgil shrugged. “I mean, maybe. What days?”

Roman straightened his maroon polo and brushed nonexistent dirt off one of his sleeves. “If you go to the Sanders Community Theater website, it’ll show you all the details. I would tell you myself, but it’s a lot of information, and I really need to be heading out, sadly.”

Virgil took one last look at Roman. Even with a scratched up face and knuckles, he still looked like the softest person Virgil could ever meet. He was dramatic yet funny, and he didn’t seem to actually want to cause any harm. If anything, he just seemed like a humble idiot who wanted to make a friend late at night. Considering Roman also called him handsome, maybe he wanted a little bit more, but Virgil didn’t really mind. For someone who was tipsy and exhausted at four in the morning, Roman seemed like a good guy.

Maybe he’s not so bad.

“I’ll, uh…” Virgil hesitated, “I’ll be sure to check it out if I can. We all need a break sometimes.”

“We do.” Roman whispered.

“Yeah, so go home and get some sleep. I know you’re tipsy, but don’t get yourself murdered by being out here all night.”

Roman let out a tired sigh, looking behind himself as if to check if he could see his destination from where he stood. “You’re right about that, Jack Skellington. But I have one more pit stop to make, so don’t worry about me. I know what I’m doing.”

“If you say so, I guess.”

Roman turned back to Virgil. “Though, if you’re interested...maybe you and I could swap phone numbers? So you can tell me about the show if you see it, and so our destined crossing on a raven black night doesn’t go to waste?”

Virgil snorted. “Raven black night?”

“I’m tired, shush. Let me be my own type of poetic.”

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say, I guess.”

Roman took out his phone and pressed a couple buttons before handing it to Virgil. Virgil stared at it before taking it with a smirk. “...Android, huh?”

Roman didn’t just roll his eyes, he rolled his entire head. “Oh, shush and put in the darn number!”

Virgil laughed but did as he was told anyway, putting in his number and saving the contact as Emo Nightmare before handing it back to Roman. 

Roman smiled at the name so fondly Virgil’s heart almost broke. This dude’s gonna be pretty damn disappointed when he finds out my name is fucking Virgil, of all things. “Do you mind if I send you a text to make sure it works?”

“Nope.” Virgil said with a popped p.

Though, instead of sending a random letter or a hello like a normal fucking person, Roman posed under the street light and held his phone up for a selfie. He ran his hands through his hair in a fruitless attempt to fix its messiness but eventually gave up, smiling for the camera and dropping the pose long enough for Virgil to feel his phone buzz in his pocket.

Virgil pulled it out:

Unknown sent a photo

Unknown: Make sure to remember this beautiful face :P

He shook his head with disapproval, but also to hide his smile behind the safety of movement. “Seriously?”

“Don’t you worry Beetlejuice, you’ll get used to it after knowing me for long enough.” Roman tried to flip his hair back, but considering it was way too short to do so, it was a fail. “Though if I don’t respond to any texts you may send these next few days, don’t worry too much about it. I’m going to be awfully busy and won’t have my phone on me.”

“Alright, noted.” Virgil sighed and put his phone in his pocket. “Talk to you later then, Princey?”

“I sure hope so. Though, Brad Pitiful?”

“Pretty sure you already said that one, but yeah?”

“It’s 4:24 AM right now. Don’t forget that number. Considering it’s the time you last saw me, I’m sure it has some kind of luck to it.”

Virgil almost physically facepalmed at that. “You have such an ego.”

“It’s what people love about me!” Roman laughed as he dropped the overexaggerated smile for a second to replace it with seriousness. “Though, I am serious about you seeing the show. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard you. I’ll look into it at least, promise. Though for now, I’m fucking tired and I gotta go.”

Roman hummed, and without another word, the two turned in opposite directions to head to their next destination. Which for Virgil, was straight to bed until he woke up wondering if all of this was a fever dream. He did hear one last thing be called out to him: “So long, Dark and Stormy Night!”

Virgil didn’t respond, he only waved behind himself and hoped Roman saw it. When he turned the corner and was for sure away from Roman’s sight, he pulled out his phone and went to his contacts.

New contact added: Prince Underarm Stink

Satisfied with himself, Virgil walked the next couple blocks back to his apartment. Once he opened the door, he crashed onto his bed without bothering to change, letting sleep overcome his body as fast as it had woke him up in the first place.

I’ll text him tomorrow morning, he thought, just to test it out. Even if he doesn’t respond.

That was the last thing Virgil thought before he fell right to sleep.

***

It had been three days since the night Virgil met Roman. He’s sent one text every morning since then, but had yet to get a response to any of them. Considering Roman said he would be busy, he wasn’t too worried. If Roman didn’t respond in more than a week, though, he would consider himself ghosted.

Oh well, it was a stretch thinking the cute guy I met at 4 AM would text me back anyway.

On the third morning, Virgil sent a text saying You there yet??? Lol, before packing up his stuff and starting to walk to his classroom campus.

The walk was normal, nothing but other college students bumping into each other on the street and in the hallways until he made it to his classroom, leaning back in his seat and checking his phone.

No text messages, but he did have a couple notifications on Tumblr. Not surprising, but it was still something to occupy himself with.

A few more kids entered the classroom, stopping in the doorway right behind Virgil. “D’you know anything about this?” One of them asked.

“Nope. The guy doesn’t look familiar.” The other said.

“Damn. A ten thousand dollar reward would do wonders for a college loan.”

Virgil slowly lowered his phone back into his pocket at the sound of cash. With this amount of eavesdropping, he felt like a cartoon character with their ear growing five times in size.

“That could pay one year’s worth of a dorm. Ten grand doesn’t do shit for loans anymore.”

“Still dude, that’s ten grand you don’t gotta work for. I wish I had that.”

“Then go looking for information on this guy, I guess.”

The first guy laughed. “Maybe! I hope they find him, though. It’s always sad to hear about missing people. They usually find their bodies, like, a month later.”

“Yeah, well, people are fucked up. Now come on, I need your notes.”

“Again!? Dude, you’re a damn mooch.”

The two voices faded away to Virgil’s left as they walked away. Once the two guys sat down, Virgil turned around to squint at a paper he hadn’t noticed when he first walked in, even getting out of his chair to take a better look.

Though the moment he got closer, Virgil felt his stomach fill with lead.

Missing: Roman Goldsberry. Last seen October 2nd. Virgil stared at it for a suspicious amount of time. His eyes were widened like a bug ready to be squashed, ripping the paper off the wall and taking a closer look. No matter how many times he squished the paper to his face and examined every letter written, the facts were logically unmistakable. This is the guy I met.

The guy I met on October 3rd.

Virgil wanted to vomit. It couldn’t be him. It just couldn’t be. Stuff like this doesn’t just happen, you don’t meet someone only for them to go missing that same fucking day!

Is this why he wasn’t responding to his phone!? Because someone grabbed him off the street and locked him in a truck!? Because he’s somewhere in the middle of the woods, probably being tortured right this second!?

It isn’t him. It can’t be. I’m remembering it wrong. Missing people just freak me out. They’re not. The same. Person.

Virgil felt a lightbulb go off in his head. The photo.

Roman took a photo of himself before they parted ways. He’d even said not to forget his face with that stupid egotistical smile that made Virgil wanna roll his eyes so far they went into the back of his head.

Grabbing his phone was like trying to grab an ice cube off the floor, but Virgil managed it, shakily opening his phone and going into his recent contacts.

Picture, picture, picture...there!

Virgil put his phone and the paper on his desk and compared them. Same hair color. Same hair style. Same smile. Same eyes. The only difference is the clothing.

He didn’t want to believe it. He wanted to pick apart every possible difference in the photos until he somehow managed to convince himself they were different people. But there was no way. Even in his hysteria, there was no way he could ignore that he had seen someone hours before their possible demise.

...He couldn’t stay here listening to a lecture. He didn’t care about his grade tanking because of a zero on attendance, or about the homework he’d miss turning in if he left, he had to do something. He had to help somehow, even if Virgil didn’t know exactly what he was doing.

The professor had just stepped in front of the class and started to speak. Virgil grabbed his bag and didn’t hear a word that was said.

He ran out the door and didn’t come back.

[meeeeyahhhhh]

The Most Vibriant Color In the Rainbow (Jasonette)

Red. It was in your veins, it’s the color of fire and the setting sun. Red was the color of France’s superhero. A heroine that was wilting like a rose. She was hanging on by a thread and the Fates seemed so very tempted to snip it. There, in the shadow of the heroine’s mantel, lies a girl who is just fighting to not have her voice stolen from her again.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was that same hero, but she was so much more than that. She was an artist, a daughter, a designer, a partner, and a friend. Marinette knew exactly how to fix any problem that came her way no matter how bad of odds there were. She came, she saw, and she conquered every challenge that dared come between her and her goals. All Marinette wanted to do was love. So the question is, what happened to the Marinette everyone knew?

Away with the firecracker that was Marinette, anew with a pale imitation of the beautiful girl. She moves mechanically, every step she takes she’s made a thousand times over. All of this because of the Antichrist herself, Lila Rossi, made good on her promise to herd the sheep into her flock. The sound of crocodile tears could be heard ringing through the classroom, “W-why are you s-so mean? I-I just w-wanted a dress f-for the dance!”

Marinette stared at the Italian woman with a glare that could kill, “And I told you, I cant. I have my responsibilities and you have your ‘responsibilities’ we’re both busy people. Your universe may revolve around Lila, but mine revolves around me. It’s sad that you think you can guilt trip me into doing something I don’t want to do when you and I aren’t friends. Call me mean all you want, but I won’t care. You and everyone else in this class mean absolutely nothing to me. I do what I have to do to survive and you are a shepherd to week sheep. It’s unfortunate for you that you would ever think I would fall in line for you.”

A hush fell over the room. No one expected Marinette to clap-back against Lila, but more so that she would speak with no emotion backing her. Lila, stunned silent, forgot to keep crying. Ladybug doesn’t let anyone treat her like a stepping stone, so why should Marinette? Marinette is Ladybug inside and outside of the mask. She just puts the mask’s responsibilities more important than Marinette’s happiness. An obnoxious girl with glasses broke the silence, “W-What d-did you say?”

“You heard me, Alya, we are not friends. You chose the shiny new toy over truth. I want nothing to do with unreliable sources,” The tone she used was deadly, “something you do a lot. It’s no wonder why Ladybug stopped endorsing your blog. It’s such a shame that you chose someone who Ladybug has publicly claimed has no connection to her over the one who got you your interviews. Or did you forget, that I’m the one who actually knows Ladybug and is friends with?”

Everything stopped. No one breathed, blinked, or moved. You don’t know fear until the wrath of the Cheng family befalls you. Though they might not have the resources, or so you think, (A/N: I headcannon that the Dupain Chengs are rich bc they are the best bakers in Paris, plus why would Gabriel or Aubrey let their children go into public school.) The Cheng family held themselves with a an air of respect without even trying. Marinette maybe wilting due to the weight of the world, but she would not crumble to the will of uneducated teenagers.

Red. That is the color of vengeance, anger, and blood. Red is the color of Gotham’s vigilante. A zombie of a man trying to rebuild what was once his life. Across an ocean there is a boy that just had his world turn upside down. He died an incredibly gruesome death and had he thought no one mourned his loss.

Jason Todd was Red Hood, the loose cannon of Gotham. Everyone thought the pit had taken him to the place of no return. That his mind was the problem. Yes, the pit madness made his angry, but it didn’t make him lose his mind entirely. Behind his anger, Jason was just a boy taken too soon and then mutilated for other people’s benefit. He craved physical affection. He pleaded for trust. He needs his father to tell him he loves him.

Red Hood stayed out during patrol to clear his head. He looked down on the city while perched on a high rise. It usually calmed the voices in his head, tonight they seemed restless. Jason wished for silence, he felt oppressed by the dreariness of the city. Something in his heart told him that this isn’t where he was meant to be. The voices told him to jump off the high rise and to the voices Jason responded with a kind, “Thanks Karen, but fuck right off.”

No stars could be seen due to the pollution of Gotham, but the moonlight shone on Red Hood. He stared at the moon, deep in thought, “Where would I even go?” He asked himself, “Who would want me?”

Not even the voices wanted to hear him talk about him, “Paris,” they whispered.

“Why Paris?” Paris? What’s so specials about Paris?

“Trust us,” the voices responded, “there’s something you won’t want to miss.”

Jason filed that under the folder titled ‘Another question for the therapist that I don’t have.’ He couldn’t deny the pull he felt towards Paris no matter how hard he tried. There was no reason to go though, but there was no reason to stay either. They were all fine without him before why would this time be different?

It was then Jason was reminded the coms were still on and that Tim was an insomniac, “Paris? What are you talking about?”

“Don’t worry about it Timmy. I’m just thinking about taking a vacation. Don’t tell B yet, I’m not sure I should even go,” He knew it wasn’t Tim’s fault, but he couldn’t help but feel that familiar tingle of resentment towards his brother. He shook the feeling away, “I just need a breath, Gotham seems to have me dying all over again.”

Tim reassured Jason that his secret was to be kept between the two of them. The feeling was still gnawing at his being on the way back to his apartment. Red Hood, the light hearted jokester, the one who needed to be restrained, a smiling pillar to the magnifying glass that was Bruce and Dick, was lonely. The question was: is he lonely enough to leave? The answer is yes. Jason is tried of being the second thought, he’s tired of having to report in, and he’s tired of the way the voices take up space in his mind when there’s no company to talk to.

Paris, be prepared. Red is coming to your city and it’s going to become a color of change. Red will paint the streets. Red is going to cause Hawkmoth to rethink if his antics are really worth the price tag that follows.

A/N: Marinette is 19 and Jason is only 20. This could be a series of this is something you all would want to read. I’m a sucker for Jasonette and I love the Maribat genre in general. Please let me know if you want to be tagged also! Thank you all for reading and supporting me!

Tags: @abrx2002 @amayakans @mystery-5-5 @normal-piece-of-shit @st0rmy-w1th1n @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @g-arya @smolplantmum @rayray384 @rosa97 @drarryismylife101 @kris-pines04 @black-streak @storyteller-d @weird-pale-blonde-person

[shakespearerants]

Mocha, Jasmine Tea, Iced Lemon Tea <3

Mocha: Dream job?

Oof I honestly don’t know. I like knowing things and laghing manically so...evil scientist? Let’s see if something works its way out. Though tbh I’m just starting to gain enough energy to master day to day uni stuff again so I’m not really in a place where ‘what do I want to get paid for when my minimum of another three years of uni is done’ is something I really think about.

Jasmine Tea: If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be and why?

That is a QUESTION! There are three answers to this:

1) Italy, specifically the Naples/Sorrento area, because that’s where my Studienfahrt went to and it was honestly beautiful and one of the very very few good memories I have from my time at school BUT I would like to see it without a horde of drunk 17 year olds. Also I was sick the day we went to Pompeii and that has been a source of constant regret ever since.

2) The United Kingdom, specifically Ireland, Wales and Scotland. This is for archeologist reasons also I just always wanted to visit.

3) Someplace without light pollution. I long to see the milky way again, ideally when camping somewhere really remote. Looking at a light pollution map of Europe, there aren’t that many options! I’ve been thinking about Iceland, Greenland, or I might someday take a trip to the Czech Republic to connect with old family roots in Schlesien.

Iced Lemon Tea: Favourite song/ band?

Have you SEEN my Spotify??!! No you haven’t so let me tell you I regularly crash the app because I have too many fucking playlists. I am Obsessed with what my friends are listening. The second question I ask anyone after I meet them for the first time is what kind of music do you listen to. This question prompted hours of rumination and enough digging to make my head spin. I had to divide this question up into different parts because else I never would’ve answered it.

Favourite song i.e. a song I’ve been obsessed with lately: Garmana - Naden

Favourite song i.e. I know all the lyrics and you physically can’t stop me from singing along: Faun - Dies kalte nacht, Qntal - Palästinalied, Klaus Lage - 1000 und 1 Nacht (Zoom!) (also pretty much the entirety of my Mitsingen! playlist)

Favourite song i.e. I won’t ever get sick of it: In Extremo - Frei zu sein, Fall Out Boy -  Disloyal Order of Waterbuffalos, Celine Dion - All By Myself

Favourite song i.e. objectively perfect from a technical standpoint: Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here

Favourite song i.e. I can’t listen to it without crying: The Irrepressibles - In This Shirt

Favourite band i.e. Spotify says I listen to them the most: Linkin Park

Favourite band i.e. every song is a banger: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance

Idk I don’t really listen to bands? Or albums for that matter I’m a playlist and single songs kind of person.

This is...not everything. Literally I am always down to just exchange songs with people my favourite thing in the world is just going “listen to this” with someone for hours.

[apollosvotive]

PETRICHOR — PROLOGUE 

the last he sees of nataliya

also available on wattpad here

(in continuation)

Kursick is a grey town. Dump town. Dull and morose. An air of sickness hovers over everything in an ever-present shroud. Houses are dirty and squat and made of crumbling brick, slumped against each other as if huddling for warmth against the cold too. Everything around them acts as a reminder of how depressing this town is. Dead trees, black leaves, the ground steeped in shit and piss. No wall is ever too pristine to be fully white. Even the snow that descends lightly around them is tinged grey with a polluted quality to it.

At this age, Nataliya is smart and sharp. She’s a pair of beady black eyes darting back and forth, scanning her surroundings and drinking in information. As much as he hates to admit it, she’s the backbone of the two of them. She’s the reason for their escapades’ success, the sole cause for their survival. It’s been a few months since they’ve settled into this rhythm, uncertain at first, then slowly growing steady as they acclimatize to the newness of each other’s presence. They steal together and flee together. They split the profits of their latest raid between them equally and revel in the flush of their victory. They’re good together, able to match each other without much effort. Quick and efficient like a good set of hands. But for all the time he’s spent with her, Nataliya remains an enigma, shrouded in mystery. The inner workings of her mind are a puzzle. She’s a tough read, or not a read at all, and Thomas has always prided himself on knowing what people want.

“Here,” she signals. The two slink across the street, the cover of night protecting them like a cloak. The only source of illumination is a street lamp emitting an orange glow. The streets are empty, save for the stray vagabond who clutches a coarsely cut knife in his hand threateningly.

The house belongs to a military officer from the city center, Azus, who is stationed in Kursick to monitor the ruined village, no doubt another out of the hundreds of men populating the rich capital with an overabundant belly and grubby fat fingers. He stands in a long line of victims. Anyone from Azus who comes to Kursick are buffoons. They’re essentially positioning themselves like low-hanging fruit in the reach of a town full of ravenous people, just waiting to be plucked. While the people of Kursick stole and fought and killed for something to sustain themselves, these officials lined their tables with roast chicken and attested to their generous helpings of food with their big potbellies.

It is important that they do this. It is important that they take from the selfish and the privileged. The city people are scoundrels to allow them to survive like this, cold and haggard and starved to the bone, while they drape themselves in tapestries made from finer material that people from this town could ever imagine. Stealing from them is an act of vengeance that barely paid a morsel of the price.

East Kosenyka is the affluent neighbourhood. It’s a gated estate with houses built on either side of a road that stretches throughout the plot of land. It opens at a metal gate, where a guardhouse is situated. The street is heavily surveilled, which is why hardly anyone tried to steal anything from the residents here. It’s only Nataliya who looked at the gold window of light from where they crouched in the dark one day, with a look in her eyes that told him the plan was already forming in her head. Turns out that that plan was the thing that would feed them better than anyone ate in this stupid town. This time, though, it seems that there is an entire battalion parked outside the street. It has to be someone important, then. Nataliya narrows her eyes.

In this distance, Thomas can see several more soldiers pacing outside a house. The lights in the house are all switched off.

“What the fuck is this?” Thomas hisses. In all their time spent raiding, he’s never seen such security for a single official before. “How do we get in like this?”

Usually, they will scale the gate to get into the neighbourhood, but they can’t now.

“There has to be a way in.”

Nataliya scrubs a hand through her hair in frustration. It’s black and cropped at her shoulders. Thomas remembers when it used to be long. They were on another one of their righteous escapades, just about to slide through the cracks of the estate and escape, when the end of her hair got caught on the gate. Without a moment’s hesitation, she sheared the entire lock of hair off with a paring knife. There was no emotion in her eyes.

Thomas swears. “Damn it, Nat. I’m fucking starving.”

“Shut up, Thomas. I didn’t say there wouldn’t be food tonight.”

Nataliya stalks off in the opposite direction. Thomas trails behind her. They circle the perimeter of the street, careful to remain hidden. The moon hangs like a silver orb in the sky. He wishes it didn’t. The night isn’t potent enough. It’s not dark enough to keep them hidden. Plus, it doesn’t help matters that the entire city center’s supply of soldiers has been emptied out in this street, right in front of the house they are going to rob. Anxiety prickles in him, flooding his senses.

“Nat. Nat,” Thomas snaps. “We shouldn’t. It’s too dangerous.”

Nataliya’s back portrait doesn’t falter. The cadence of her footfalls still goes strong. “We can find a blindspot. I know we can.”

“We can starve for a night.”

A sigh. “It’s not about that. Didn’t you hear when we were in the marketplace this morning?”

“What about?”

Thomas tries to recall the moment but can only remember the gloss of a green apple staring back at him. He was ravenous then. He’s ravenous now.

Though he can’t see her, he can imagine her shaking his head.

“There’s a new king. Military officials are going to be sent back for the coronation. No one’s going to be coming to Kursick for a while. And in between everyone fighting for the apples in the orchards and the food in the shophouses, I already know there’s going to be a food shortage. We need to gather a supply of food now.”

“We can steal the reserves from the apple orchards now. We don’t have to steal from here.”

“It’s apples,” Nataliya says. “We’re gonna rot in between the time in next official comes. Think about it, Tommy. Rich chicken breast, sweetcorn, sugar bread. Don’t you want that kind of feast again?”

Thomas can feel himself salivating, but dread pools in his stomach. “If we get caught, they might kill us.”

“They won’t.” Nataliya sounds so sure, Thomas wants to believe her. Because if there is one thing that he has learned about her during the course of their time together, it’s that he should put all his faith in her and trust that she knows better than him. She has never failed them and she wouldn’t now. She has always been the smarter out of the two of them. He remembers their first encounter —the feeling of his father’s meaty fist curled into the fabric of his shirt, holding him over the water before letting him plunge in. He thought that that was it for him, the end of a sorry life of an insignificant boy, but before he could even comprehend what was going on, he felt himself rising to the surface and being dragged to the bank. Once he finished shuddering and gasping and spewing out water, he found himself staring into curious black eyes. His first thought went to organ harvester. It was not that uncommon. Many people might have seen a scrawny, helpless kid and thought to make some use out of him, but she just fought away his hostile hands and patiently fended off his bite. When the fight finally seeped out of him, they’d stared at each other with a kind of uncertainty and a knowing that this, this thing between them, was something that did not belong in a place like Kursick.

They walk until Nataliya stops in her tracks. She’s looking at the back of the estate, where a young soldier fumbles with his rifle. In total, there are three soldiers along the perimeter. Two at either ends, and the young one, squarely in the middle. He’s standing in front of their usual entrance, the section of loose bricks which they have come to find with detailed scouting will give way with a slight push. The young soldier is still pockmarked, with the faintest trace of hair at his chin. He carries the rifle like he still doesn’t know how. This time, Thomas knows what Nataliya is thinking without her having to say it aloud first.

“Distract the other two,” Nataliya tells him. “I’ll deal with that one. After that, join me through the hole. I’ll wait for you at the entrance.”

Thomas makes a noise of assent.

“Done and dusted,” he replies, and slinks away to the side of the street. Neither of them looks back at the other.

Heart thumping a lopsided rhythm against his chest, he picks up a rock and dashes it across his skin. The stinging pain follows more as an afterthought. He’s weathered worse. A rivulet of blood leaks out from the gash. He composes himself. Then he bursts out of the undergrowth, yelling: “HELP! HELP ME!”

There are sounds of a rifles being cocked. So many shutters all at once, like a flock of birds taking flight. He collapses onto the ground, holding out his bleeding hand for everyone to see.

“There’s a wild boar chasing me. Help me, please!”

He keeps yelling until he’s sure it reaches the four corners of this street. There’s the heavy sound of footfalls as soldiers run over to see the commotion. The line of soldiers along the back of the estate draws nearer to him as planned. Thomas doesn’t dare look up. He keeps his eyes trained on the ground because he’s sure if he does so, he’ll see a million gun barrels pointed at him and his stomach will go lurching. He just hopes Nataliya makes it in.

Cold metal forces his chin up. He has to open his eyes. The stern visage of a soldier is outlined in silver in the moonlight. This is a soldier from the city center. Azus’ own army. He hates them. He hates them so much, though they are generally harmless. They’re the claws of a buffoon king, a fat man who has grown complacent and idle on top of the throne while his kingdom withers, and so it comes as no surprise that the army has all the efficiency of its leader. They’re all bark and no bite. Usually they will make fun of him, shove him around, spit on him, but in the end let him go more or less in one piece, because even for the luxurious city center the morally decrepit place is masquerading as, they still have appearances to upkeep. The life of a small Kursick boy is still a life, no matter how insubstantial.

But this night a red beret rests atop the soldier’s head, a new addition. Realisation dawns on Thomas. The new king and his army. This is completely different threat they were used to dealing with.

“What do we have here? A street rat?”

The man’s voice is slow and rumbling, like a thunderstorm.

“Please, sir, help me. I was searching for food in the forest when a wild boar started chasing me.” Thomas clutches his injured arm harder for emphasis.

The soldier smiles. It’s horrifying. Skin pulls away to reveal a set of gleaming white teeth. He looks like he’ll eat Thomas alive. A sudden flood of regret fills him. He should have just insisted to Nataliya that they leave. Now the bad feeling is real and alive, beating inside Thomas like a second heart. He needs to get Nataliya out of there. This is far more than either of them anticipated.

“Look at the poor boy,” the soldier murmurs. “He can barely help himself. This is why I hate Kursick. No one can seem to fend for themselves. Always complaining about how the capital doesn’t feed them when they don’t even want to do the work themselves.”

Thomas opens his mouth to respond, but a dull thwack across his jaw sends his mind ringing. The force of impact is so great and filled with such brute strength that death flashes before his eyes. This is not the first time he’s experienced this, in fact he’s well-acquainted with it by now, but it still sends adrenaline coursing through his veins. His heart batters against his chest furiously. His vision blacks out for a split second, and it returns just to catch a glimpse of gold before it flickers out of view. The soldier signals to another soldier. “Get him out.”

With only those words, he’s picked up by his arms and thrown out at the front of the street. Pain explodes on his body. His shoulder joints pop and squeal. The thought of Nataliya pulsates frantically in his mind. The moment he lands in the dirt, he sprints back to the spot where he and Nataliya stood minutes ago to find the young soldier standing the same way they find him, still pacing about with uncertainty. Thomas turns his eyes up to the house they are protecting, where a single light that wasn’t turned on a few minutes ago now is.

If he knew this is the last time he will be seeing Nataliya, what would he have done? It will be months of waiting by their usual spots, of surveying the crime scene over and over till there’s nothing more to make out of it, of sitting by the freezing lake waiting for her familiar presence to make itself known to him before he finally understands that she’s never coming back. In time to come he will find out she’s right. Food will turn scarce and everyone will be fighting, man against man for that last apple in the orchard. There will be nights when Thomas will circle the perimeter of East Kosenyka but will never actually steal from them again because it’s simply not the same without her. He will grow cold and hungry and alone. Not that he wasn’t these things before, but it’s just that there used to be the warmth of her presence, her always-there presence, to stave them out of his mind. He will have nowhere to go. Home has nothing but fire and fury and bloody fists. He will press up against the dirty cinderblock, shivering and alone, feeling like a stranger in the only place he has known as home. But it won’t always be like this. He shouldn’t underestimate the lengths that his honed survival instinct will bring him to. In time he will come to love this place, this terrible, shoddy town, like a parent learns to love the face of an ugly child. He will learn what it means to survive and what one will do. Kill or be killed. It will come to be the thing which he finds the most true in this world and the governing principle of his life. He will learn to make a name for himself. He will adapt to the loss of an important limb — the most important limb — and traverse through the grey snow with ease as if he has never lost something crucial to him. He will never think of Nataliya again. Never, except in his moments of piercing sobriety, which he finds will be incredibly rare, when he is held ransom to his wandering thoughts.

But for now he is thirteen and stupid and cold. Always cold. It occurs to him that the last he sees of her is her back. Her small, scrawny frame, the dogged set of her shoulders, the jagged crop of her dark hair. The portrait burns its way into his memory forever.

taglist: @noloumna @cinnamonboba-writes @apricotwrites @atbwrites (ask to be added or removed)

[callsigndreadfrost]

Ok, so, originally this was gonna just be a million fuckin questions, and it'll prooooobably turn into one of those question chains from several months ago. BUT to start I think I can do just like, three. First, tell me ALL about the area in Norway where Jelani was growin up, absolutely anything and everything you can think of about it. Secondly, tell me ALL about babby Jelani! Again just anything and everything you can think of! Lastly, how exactly do those magic weapons work? :o Like, once they're made can anyone grab them? Can he only have one at a time? Stuff like that! Basically just use this as a chance to talk about all those things! :3

❤️❤️❤️

So Jelani was born and raised near what is known as Hammerfest today (woohoo subarctic climate!). Honestly he’s been everywhere and just about seen everything but nothing compares to when he was growing up in that area and watching the Aurora Borealis with family and friends in a comfortable silence while just taking it all in, ya know? Being born in 870 CE meant there was no light pollution so every night the sky always lit up and the stars were so shiny and there were millions and millions of them which was absolutely insane to see and had a lot of significance because of his mom’s culture and their relationship to the stars.

They were close to the coast so there was a lot of fishing and sailing. He was also partial to that area because it was close to the sea and close enough to the mountains where it felt like a happy in between. He’s not a fan of being too far from some source of water. That place was perfect as he could see all kinds of sea dwelling animals like whales and seals, squids though he’s not a fan, he’s kind of scared of squid especially the really big ones he saw every once in a while. He especially liked puffins as a kid since he thought they were kinda silly. Inland he saw his fair share of reindeer, foxes, bears, wolves and otters which he completely fell in love with and still loves as an adult. Show him pictures or videos of otters and he’ll melt, if he sees one irl he’ll practically die from the amount of cute. There were also the more supernatural creatures though he mostly grew up around a lot of werewolves.

Oh! And sure, he’s not a big fan of the sun but even he has to admit that the midnight sun is pretty impressive and beautiful in its own right. It was gorgeous to see it and he did enjoy walking around in the middle of the night and still see the sun out.

Also, despite the location, he was exposed to a lot of different people as the village was flagged as a safe area which saw a ton of traders and all were welcome regardless of who you were or if you were human or non-human. He saw everything and interacted with all sorts of people from the local Sámi People, Middle Eastern, Asian and even other African people. And after his mom found out her family were still alive and well they’d also visit each other when they could. Honestly, his upbringing was kinda fairy tale like.

______________________________________________________________

qasdxcfgbhn well, Jela as a little kid was always hanging around his parents, grandparents and especially his brother. Since Loke’s 13 years older than him Loke often watched him and played with him a lot, he wasn’t even asked to he just did it because baby brother. Like the instant Lo first saw him it was like love at first sight type of shit. He learned to speak clearly very early on which surprised everyone at how clear and structured his speech was for a kid so young and then they learned he was a very fast learner and really smart and was always curious and asking tons of questions.

Even since he was little he really loved animals so he was always seen chasing after them or somehow petting them and playing with them. Learned to ride and care for horses pretty fast and when he got his own it was like fireworks went off in his head. Even in present day he sees a horse and it’s like instant childhood memories flooding him. Btw his first horse was a mare he named Dagny, just like his ball python in modern times lol, it was a Fjord with a grey coat and a two tone mane and he loved her to bits. Aside from that there was the family dog named River because she loved to swim. He also liked cats but they didn’t have a cat because Loke was scared of them and Sanaa (for different reasons related to another creature) wasn’t fond of them. They don’t hate cats but they’d rather just keep ‘em at arm’s length.

Then teen Jelani who was...I don’t wanna use the word difficult because he wasn’t but let’s just say different for lack of a better word. It was around this time that he was realizing he wasn’t like his family and it actually hurt ‘im a lot. Especially since his mom was an arcane berserker and it was like a huge deal so they all thought he was gonna be one too. So in come the feelings of alienation and the doubts and the semi angst and the moodiness. He was never disrespectful to anyone but he was often moody and often felt down. Around this time he was also learning he had some unique abilities of his own that no one else had and since no one else had them he learned to control them but not without incidents. Not to mention that since he was very little he could see and hear and talk to things that no one else could really see. Some were friendly and others weren’t. Mix in the regular hormonal shit teenagers go through during puberty and it made for a bit of a mess. This kind of “weakened” him and his old self (which he nor anyone else knew of) was starting to rear in and it was kind of scary. He was actually fluctuating between his old personality which was chaotic af and his present self and both seemed to clash a lot. Once this started happening the migraine attacks and the nosebleeds began as well as the sleep paralysis, night terrors, insomnia and the nyctophobia and they all seemed to hit him really hard and suddenly. So all of that mixed in made the ages of 13 through 17 really, really fucking messy.

But family and friends were with him through it all and at 17 and a half he chilled out and learned to control himself and managed to suppress his old self. He’d learned to use and handle his abilities responsibly, still felt a little out of place but his family was sure to always let ‘im know they loved him no matter what and his grandfather especially let him know that his differences weren’t a bad thing and that they made ‘im special. By 18 he was back to his cheerful old self though sometimes he still felt bad about being different but didn’t let it get him down. However, he now had to cope with migraine attacks, night terrors, nyctophobia, random nosebleeds, insomnia and sleep paralysis which he still has even in present day.

______________________________________________________________ 

Okay so berserkers are non-humans that have the ability to summon powerful weapons and very sturdy armor from nothing thin air. The armor can take a beating but if they get targeted by a barrage of attacks the armor can break and they’d have to summon the armor again but there’s a cool down of about half an hour so it’s better to hang on to the armor even if broken or get your ass to safety. The weapons don’t break though. Oh and if an armor broke and they summon it again it’ll show up as good as new. Berserkers can summon up to two different weapons so which ones they summon depends on the person’s taste and comfort level.

These weapons can be summoned and dematerialized at will and have no cool down. Anyone can grab them if the berserker it belongs to doesn’t mind though why would a berserker use another one’s weapon unless they wanna be offensive and kill ‘em with their own weapon? It’s not offensive, more like yikes.

Now, since Jelani isn’t a berserker he managed to figure out a way to mimic berserkers’ ability to summon a weapon from thin air though unlike grown up berserkers he isn’t limited to just two types of weapons. For example Loke is able to summon a two headed axe and a bow, nothing more nothing less. Jelani can summon whatever he wants as he can manipulate the shape. His mom’s tribe are partial to glaives so he mainly uses a glaive. His weapons however are made of an unknown material that’s insanely hard and impossible to even crack. His weapons can’t be wielded by anyone other than himself bc as soon as someone else touches them they dematrerialize. It also looks weird, like it’s so dark it swallows all light and no light bounces off of it. He can’t summon armor though so that’s where the blacksmith comes in. His uncle Jørgen made his look like his dad’s and his mom’s.

[birlcholtz]

25 - 50 - 80 for the angst/fluff ask. Ship of your choice. ^_^

25. Karma is a bitch.

50. It’s not safe here.

80. You have no idea.

Prompts from this post!

i had no idea if you meant these separately or together, so here’s 2k of a charmer… kind of monster hunter kind of ghostbusters au! they fight things and cait has a truck that’s the vision here. and here it is on ao3!

.

Caitlin has seen a lot of weird things. She kind of gets paid to go around looking for weird things and, well, stabbing them, frequently. (She tries to communicate first, but… usually, if communication is possible, the sixteen-year-olds who make supernatural creatures angry in the first place can manage the situation themselves.)

But this is the first time that someone else has beaten her to the site where the last interaction took place. This time, it’s an empty lot, mostly weeds and dead wildflowers, bordered by trees on every side except the side with the road.

The teary, fear-quickened voice on the other end of her work phone had said that the thing, whatever it was, had six legs. So Caitlin is pretty sure that a person in black jeans and a teal sweatshirt is some sort of bystander, stumbling into something they are not equipped to handle.

“Stop!” she calls out, just loud enough that she can be sure the person hears her. They stop walking, and she can see their back stiffen just before they turn towards the source of the noise, but she’s already running towards them. If the thing comes out, this person will be a lot safer next to Caitlin than far away from her. “It’s not safe here,” she adds once she’s within a few feet.

The person gives her a small smile and says, “Oh, you have no idea.”

Okay. Fuck. That’s ominous.

At least they don’t immediately grow four more legs and attack her, which dismisses her immediate thought of shapeshifter, but Caitlin braces and puts her hands on her weapons— coiled rope on one hip, knife on the other, gun under her jacket but let’s hope that’s not necessary, and says, “Tell me what you know.”

“It’s a giant venomous tarantula. I haven’t seen it myself, though.” They shrug, hands still in the front pocket of their hoodie, which Caitlin can now see has a San Jose Sharks logo on the front. “Sorry!”

“So are you going to help me deal with it, or am I doing this by myself?” she asks. Which might be rude, but they’ve got bigger problems.

The person blinks, and then lets a bigger, close-mouthed smile spread across their face. “You’re going to help? ‘Swawesome! I brought these.” They pull their hands out of their pockets, revealing a knife between each finger like Wolverine or some shit. They’re an interesting color, not silver or gray or anything, dark and viciously sharp-looking. “So what’s your name?”

Caitlin sizes up the knives again, and then says, “Are you fae?”

“Nope! I just don’t know many people outside my house. Are you a monster fighter?”

“Yes,” she answers slowly, and decides not to reveal any more personal information until she’s figured out who the hell this person is.

“That’s cool,” they say cheerfully, and Caitlin notices dark hair, mostly hidden under the hood of their sweatshirt. “I’m learning how to do that. Usually I’m supposed to have an escort for the first five years so nothing bad happens but my team decided to send me out here while they work on something over in Worcester, I’m not sure what? Anyway. I’m glad you’re here too though! To be honest, I was a little nervous about doing this by myself, but you know.” Another shrug.

Caitlin most definitely does not know whatever this person is referring to, but she keeps that to herself. “Do you have any idea where the tarantula is right now?”

“Probably the trees. I wouldn’t be in the open right now if it was me, it got a pretty bad scare! Not as bad as those kids did, though, I guess.” And the person giggles. “Oh, well.”

This is definitely weird, and Caitlin has decided not to rule out any possibilities on why, exactly, this person is here right now and how they seem to know so much about what’s going on. Better to probe for information. “How did it get scared?”

“Well, they’re burrowers, you know? Someone just took a stick and— get ready! Try not to hurt it!”

And with that, the person springs forward what has to be at least six feet in the blink of an eye, settling into a crouch, knives in hand, almost before Caitlin sees the first pair of legs emerge from the trees, followed by the second, and then the third.

The tarantula is, indeed, giant. It’s brown, and furry, and has lots of eyes, and overall looks kind of like every other tarantula Caitlin has ever seen in pictures and terrariums, except tall enough to make solid eye contact with her shoulder. And Caitlin is tall.

She grabs her rope. It’s already set up to be a lasso, which is probably ideal in this situation. At least, if the whole ‘try not to hurt it’ thing is actually a good idea.

The tarantula approaches, and Caitlin wishes they were somewhere with streetlights, but all she has to go off of are the stars, sparse in a sky artificially brightened from light pollution, and the waxing moon overhead. It’s enough to see by, barely. The tarantula doesn’t actually seem super interested in attacking them, which is a good sign, but it’s also coming directly at them, which is a bad one.

She readies her lasso, but it’s still well outside of lassoing distance when it stops and starts doing something.

“Burrowing,” the person still crouched about six feet away whispers. “It probably just wants its home back!”

That does actually look like what’s going on. Caitlin can see the tarantula digging, even pushing some of the dirt farther away from what must be a decently sized hole. But she doesn’t dare move.

They wait there for at least twenty minutes. Caitlin’s abs hurt from how hard she’s clenching them to stay still, and she cannot believe this person is still maintaining a crouch. They haven’t moved at all from what she can see, and she was so proud of herself for managing a five-minute wall sit yesterday, too. 

Finally, the tarantula stops digging. It starts walking again, and Caitlin tenses even more, but it just walks in a circle around where its hole must be (she can’t see exactly, because the weeds are tall enough to block her vision), and then it must crawl in, because all of a sudden it’s vanished.

The other person stands up immediately and says, “Woohoo!”

“Uh, what?”

They’re already putting the knives back in their sweatshirt pocket (which does not seem like a good place for them, but whatever). “Okay, so I didn’t hear everything that happened earlier, but I’m pretty sure someone like, poked its burrow and ruined it. And it got really, really big to retaliate— I bet if the people hadn’t gotten away so fast, it would have tried to destroy some houses or something. But it’s got its home back, so it’s back to normal size. I’m Chris, by the way!” They stick out their newly knife-free hand. “I’m from a monster hunting team outside Boston. Who are you?”

“Uh, I’m Caitlin,” she says, and shakes their hand. “I’m a loner.”

“Oh, that’s too bad! Unless you prefer it that way, then I guess it’s better? I really like being around other people, though, so it would be worse for me. The other guys on my team— we’re not all guys! Just, like, I am, and a bunch of other people are, but not all of us, don’t worry, we’re not like some weird misogynistic monster fighting group or anything— anyway, some of the other guys on my team have worked together forever and they bought a really big house a few years back so they could all live together! And once I joined I moved in too and it’s been great, I’ve never had so many roommates! But um. Anyway. How’d you hear about the tarantula?”

She shrugs. “Someone called me. Probably one of the people who was there when it happened, but I have no idea. I usually don’t bother to find out, because I’ve got a private patron anyway, so I don’t need to get paid for each job.”

“Oh, us too!” Chris says. “Does yours have a really weird name too?”

“Mine calls himself Fry Guy?”

His jaw drops, just for a moment, but Caitlin notices the glint of white teeth before he closes his mouth again. “That’s what ours calls himself too! I bet it’s the same person. You should totally come join our team, then! Wait, but you’re a human, aren’t you? Never mind.”

“I’m half banshee,” Caitlin says.

Chris beams and reveals a full set of fangs. “Great! I’m a vampire!” That explains the leg muscles. And the speed. And Caitlin is guessing he heard whatever happened with the tarantula— she hasn’t met any vampires, but people have told her their senses are very good. “I just got turned, like, two years ago, though. We were fighting this demon and it was the backup goalie from my high school hockey team, and we didn’t know that but he totally had it out for me, because I was goalie too and he was a senior when I was a sophomore and I guess he was mad because he didn’t get as much ice time because of me and then he didn’t get scouted or anything, and I definitely would have died so my friend Justin had to turn me, like, right then. Um, and then the demon guy kind of burned himself up because he wasn’t supposed to use that much power at once?” He frowns. “I think he might have been a warlock, actually. But he wasn’t very good at hockey.”

“Karma is a bitch,” Caitlin offers, because that whole speech was a lot and that’s about the only thing she can muster.

Chris (Chris? For a vampire?) says, “I think the real problem with karma is that usually people don’t live long enough for it to come around again.”

“That sounds really jaded for someone who says they’re a new vampire.”

He shrugs, smile back in place, although Caitlin notices it’s just a little crooked— she can see his fangs on his left side a little more than the ones on his right. It’s surprisingly endearing. “April says I’m learning to fit in with the team really well!”

They wait in the empty lot for a few more minutes, just to make sure the tarantula doesn’t get back to giant size, and then Chris graciously accepts a ride in Caitlin’s truck back to his house. He’d run to the lot, apparently. 

“You really should consider joining our team, you know,” Chris says once Caitlin’s started the truck. “We have enough different people that we can choose who we send to deal with different things. And also we have collective bargaining power.”

“It sounds great,” Caitlin admits. “I’ve been working by myself the whole time. It gets kind of lonely.”

“Well, we don’t take humans at all, so you’ll need proof that you’re part banshee, but you’re super qualified! And I’ll vouch for you.” He smiles at her from the passenger seat, and Caitlin wonders how a creature of the night can smile so earnestly that it lights up his whole face.

She drops him off at a huge colonial-style house with a long driveway, and he puts his phone number and the landline for that house in her phone, and Caitlin watches him leap up to a second story balcony and casually step inside and wonders if this time next year, she might be able to call this place home.

She drives off, remembering Chris’s last smile from over his shoulder, and she smiles too.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Two Can Play At This Game

Characters: Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader

Word Count: 1,172

Warnings: fluff, minor smut, breast action and a bit of nipple

Summary: Matthew comes up with a new way for you to study for your finals.

Author’s Note: If you have any requests, please send them in! this is unbeta’d and every mistake is all on me.

This is the December 2nd fic for my 25 days of RPF Christmas with the prompt: Imagine your OTP studying together, and for every question answered right, somebody has to take off a piece of clothing.

Feedback the glue that holds my writing together

Tags at the bottom

The most stressful thing about the Christmas holiday isn’t the shopping, planning, buying a tree, or inviting over your in-laws. No, it is finals week… and they suck. The degree you’re going for is in astronomy since stars, planets, galaxies, and space overall is something you’re really passionate about. Matthew loves that side of you since you often went star hunting in unbelievable places where there aren’t pollution and lights to fuck up the search.

You’re so passionate about the subject that you took Matthew to a planetarium for your first date since you asked him out first. He had been fascinated by the whole thing and impressed by your knowledge of the constellations and stars. Having him explore that side of you has been a surreal experience, but if you can get a degree without all these tests, that would be great. Some of them are easy, but there are others like the one you’re doing now which is so hard.

Testing already makes you nervous, you can’t focus on anything but how you’re freaking out. Matthew so graciously let you study in his trailer while on set for Dollface, a new series exclusively on Hulu. He’s busy with Kat and the rest of the cast, and you’re stuck inside studying. It wouldn’t be so bad, but it’s also winter which means the cold is biting at your skin in all the ways it knows how. If you hate anything more than finals week, it’s the cold.

If Matthew were to come in here right now, he would be so disappointed. Instead of studying, you’ve been on your phone watching hilarious videos that people without your humor wouldn’t find funny. You’re scrolling aimlessly when you hear his trailer door open and his infectious laughter.

“I’ll talk to you later. I want to see how Y/N is doing,” he says as he enters. You’re slow to react because you don’t move your eyes from your phone until you hear his throat clear. You look into his eyes and give him a nervous chuckle.

“I was taking a break?” you pose it as a question.

“Have you been on that thing the entire time? You know you have to study if you want to pass!”

“I know but it’s so hard,” you whine.

“Not good enough,” he shakes his head and snatches your phone from your hands. You whimper and whine, but he doesn’t break under your weak manipulation.

“Study!”

“I don’t want to. I’ll just wing it,” you nod.

“How about we make this into a game? It seems like you won’t otherwise, and if we do this my way, you’ll learn a thing or two extra,” he chuckles as he sets your phone on the counter.

“I’m interested,” you trail off and sit up.

“I’ll give you thirty minutes to study with no distractions. I’ll ask you questions from the sections you read, and for every question you get right, I’ll take off an article of clothing of your choice. For every question you get wrong, you have to.”

“But it’s cold in here!” you gasp.

“I know. It’s punishment for not studying,” he chuckles.

“You bitch,” you grumble.

“Do we have a deal?” he grins.

“Fine, but just know you’re getting naked before I do.”

“We’ll see,” he smirks and lets you get to work. He sets a timer for thirty minutes, and as soon as it starts counting down, you begin studying. It’s easier said than done with Matthew in the room since he can be very distracting even if he’s just sitting there. You have your back facing toward him so you’re not tempted to just watch him scroll aimlessly on his phone. Within thirty minutes, you’ve gotten through a good chunk of knowledge. As soon as the timer beeps, Matthew turns it off and takes your textbook from you. After showing him the sections you’ve read, he begins flipping through the pages.

“What is dark energy, in simple terms?” he finally asks.

“Well, it’s not something the scientific community has a whole lot of knowledge on. However, it is thought that an energy field of some sort pushes things apart, causing the universe to expand faster than it would have otherwise.”

“Correct.”

“Shirt off, Gubler,” you grin.

This is so going to be easy.

This is so not easy.

Currently, you’re down to your bra, sweats, and mismatched socks (thanks, Matthew) while Matthew’s down just to his sweats. You’re freezing at this point since Matthew made it his personal mission to get his trailer to reach freezing temperatures--or, it feels like it. He’s continuing with the questions as if you in your bra doesn’t affect him, and you pray to get this right. Matthew doesn’t like wearing underwear, so if you can get his sweats off, then it’s game over for the both of you. If you get it wrong, then the questions will still continue. He’s looking through your textbook for the hardest question he can find until his eyes light up when he finds it.

“Can any new interstellar matter be developed from quasars after they die?” he asks.

Oh shit. Oh shit. You learned about this a few weeks ago, but for the life of you, you can’t remember it now. Shit, that means you’re going to have to take off an article of clothing and continue the game. It was fun at first, but now you’re getting annoyed. Not with Matthew or his question, but just because you’re watching the bulge in his pants swell, and you’d rather do something else than this.

“Yes! No, wait no!” you gasp.

“Why? You have to give an answer.”

“Shit, um, because they’re dead?”

“Wrong. Take off your bra,” he chuckles.

He doesn’t realize the mistake of his decision until it’s too late. As soon as he sees your breasts bounce free, he’s a goner.

“I think we’re done studying. You’ll get an A,” he mutters as he tosses the book to the side. You don’t say anything as he crawls over to you, and you can’t help but tease him just a little.

“No, we have to study. You’re the one that told me to in the first place,” you giggle when his lips ghost over the skin on your neck.

“Now you’re being cruel, woman.”

“Your rules,” you sing.

“Yeah, and I change them. New game now. Try not to make too much noise, okay? Kat’s trailer is very close to ours,” he chuckles. He moves down south and peppers kisses all around your breasts without touching the one place you want him to touch. You fist your fingers in his hair and start to guide him when he latches onto one nipple and lightly bites it. Your back arches as pleasure shoot down from the source to your core. Keeping Matthew’s rules in mind, you hold in the moan that’s desperate to leave your throat.

Oh, so this is how he wants to play? Well, two can play at this game.

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[merinnan]

DMBJ Explore with the Note Ep 3

Okay! Recap post for DMBJ season 2 (Explore with the Note), Ep 3!

Current counts:

Season 2 Xiaoge Rescue Count: 2 for Wu Xie, 2 for protagonists, 3 for everyone

Season 2 Wu Xie Swoon Count: 0 

Season 2 Evil Hair Count: 2 

 Cumulative Xiaoge Rescue Count: 12 for Wu Xie, 17 for protagonists, 18 for everyone 

Cumulative Wu Xie Swoon Count: 6

- Hopefully this ep has less snorkelling scenes 

- But to be honest 

- It would be hard to have MORE snorkelling scenes than ep 2 and still have plot

- Oh yeah, they've just had the first switcheroo of the side chambers and Wu Xie is Very Confused

- And Xiaoge just realised he's been here before, and is admitting he has memory problems 

- You are still such a bad liar at this point, Wu Xie. 

- Oh my god, Pangzi, you can't just ask people if they inject Botox or have a radiation-caused genetic mutation

- Also, yes, I am already on my bullshit with the soft looks Xiaoge gives Wu Xie 

- Well. The looks. Because this Xiaoge looks at people who are not Wu Xie about the same amount as Yang Yang's Xiaoge did

- It is very convenient how the flashbacks in this one are colour coded with that soft yellow lighting 

- It's taken these guys from 20 years ago a lot longer to get out here than it's taken Wu Xie and co. in the present time

- Like. I'm kinda wondering if this past Xiaoge was just straight up watching the idiot Xie accidentally kill himself. 

- I mean, I wouldn't blame him, tbh

- Going out diving by yourself without telling anyone is borderline suicidal without adding sneaking into an underwater tomb without adequate preparation to it 

- It's nice to have better lighting in the flashbacks, though 

- There's a snek-browed fishy, and past!Xiaoge is shook

- Also, that Xie guy looks like he was boiled or roasted down there 

- Oh, is past!Xiaoge remembering something about snek-fishies?

- Wu Xie coming in with some epic side-eye as Xiaoge tells the story

- Why does the flashback get a much more clear and visible snorkelling scene?! 

- You can actually see things! - Are they trying to make a low-key accidental statement about water pollution?

- Okay, this episode's snorkelling scene starts 6 minutes in 

- Let's see how long it goes for 

- Hopefully it will end before the 17 minute mark 

- That's the bar it has to beat here 

- Surely it can't be that hard 

- Oh, I spoke too soon on the water clarity

- Hey, if Sanshu and Wenjin could properly communicate underwater without arm notepads and without pulling out their fucking snorkles to try to literally talk underwater, WU XIE AND PANGZI, then why couldn't people in the present timeline do the same?

- Not looking at anyone in particular 

- At all 

- Especially not ones named Wu Xie and Pangzi

- The sea monkey that Sanshu chased off looks like baby compared to the one on the ghost ship

- Wow. Snorkelling took less than a minute and a half, with almost twice the number of people 

- Obviously A-Ning needed more people on her expedition 

- Then they wouldn't have had to swim around aimlessly for eleven fucking minutes before getting into the tomb

- Hahah, a perfume tomb 

- Sure it is 

- Don't you think that should make you suspicious, Sanshu? 

- There's always gotta be a big, interesting mural. Let's see what exposition this one will trigger.

- Ofc Pangzi goes sniffing for perfume after hearing about it being there 20 years ago 

- In a different room in the tomb 

- After people had traipsed through it with their stinky diving equipment

- And ofc he doesn't smell it and then complains that it can't have been there in the first place 

- Xiaoge's expression just says everything

- See, Wu Xie is the smart boy with the logical suggestions of why that might be, Pangzi 

- This guy who wants to leave is like the only genre-savvy one of the lot of them 

- Smart suggestions from past!Sanshu that yes, everyone should listen to 

- They're not gonna listen to him

- Yep, taking a nap is never a good idea in these situations 

- Which is why he's gonna do it 

- After DMBJ 1 Pangzi, it's so nice to have a Pangzi who's smart and competent straight off the bat, instead of having to take like 4/5 of the season to get to that point

- And ofc you were a hooligan as a kid, Pangzi. I am totally unsurprised by this news 

- I'd wondered why he jumped straight to aroma hypnosis, but him having come across it before when he was younger explains it

- This Wu Xie has some fantastic facial expressions 

- For instance, this one is wondering if Pangzi is bullshitting him 

- He doesn't even need to say it. It's right there on his face

- Oh yeah, Xiaoge recognises that

- And I was wondering how they'd intro that in without Wu Xie's disreputable antique store contacts telling him about it 

- Pangzi is ofc the logical choice for it 

- Hahah, yes, Wu Xie, you're right and you should say it

- Wu Xie: There's no such thing as ghosts 

- Xiaoge's expression: You might want to reconsider that 

- Oooh, Wu Xie has heard about it, too.

- Like almost 20 years ago, judging by how young he is in these flashbacks. And that this one looks like it takes place not long after Sanshu got into trouble from Grandpa Wu 

- But like, Sanshu, why are you telling a five year old about this? Or maybe he's six. BUT STILL

- Sanshu, do not recommend evil, possibly-ghosty, nightmare-inducing perfumed bone to your baby nephew as a sleep aid 

- Who tf let you near children?

- Ah, now time for the Sanshu-POV flashback. Which is happening within Wu Xie's flashback 

- Flashback-ception! 

- See, Sanshu, told you sleeping was a bad idea 

- None of them listened to you 

- Because you fell asleep and couldn't tell them no

- He can see surprisingly well for a man left in a sideroom of an underwater tomb with no light sources 

- It looks like they took all his diving gear as well as their own 

- How rude of them 

- OH GOOD, it's not just me who was thinking that this room looked really empty

- I thought I was imagining things, or mixing up the room they were in earlier with the room that Wu Xie and the rest were in last ep 

- Are those...claw marks where the mural used to be?

- OH WAIT NOW I REMEMBER WHAT'S HAPPENED TO HIM 

- If this is following the book as closely as it seems for this bit, anyway 

- I am less confused now

- Weird flash of light and sudden coffin appears 

- Which Sanshu can still see without a light source 

- Remember, kids, eat all your carrots like Sanshu obviously does!

- Do they just paint the same mural in every side chamber that has a mural? Because that looks just like the one from the other room. 

- Oh no, I can see some differences in it now 

- Yeah, that's not a good sign

- WTF Sanshu don't touch the creepy coffin that's suddenly pouring dark liquid out of it 

- Is that another sea monkey?

- Apparently diving equipment is only necessary to get down to the tomb, not to get back up. You won't even swallow much water, you'll get back perfectly safely, just a bit out of breath 

- And tired enough to pass out on the beach, but that might be from fighting a sea monkey first

- JFC, Sanshu, why are you telling all this to a five year old? 

- You really think this is gonna dissuade him from this when he grows up? No. You are planting the early seeds of encouragement. 

- Also the early seeds of lifelong nightmares

- You know, I still haven't worked out how Sanshu didn't recognise Xiaoge in DMBJ 1 - both drama and book. I mean, drama can be explained by them only adapting the first book that time, but book? Unless it gets explained later on

- Or I somehow skipped the explanation, which is also possible - I'll go back and reread them another time 

- lol, Pangzi 

- And look, more spiderwebs 

- The undersea spider colony here really works hard 

- Aaaah, Wu Xie's figuring it out already

- Pangzi seems to be serving the purpose of giving all the hints and little plot points that book Wu Xie already had before he stepped foot in the tomb 

- Hahahah, 'can you please speak human'

- Pangzi with the major concerns. Who cares about running out of oxygen if the food is gone?! Not Pangzi! 

- lol, looking at each other when they think Pangzi's being silly or unreasonable is already their go-to response

- lol, and Xiaoge doesn't agree until Wu Xie nods 

- Ah, first thing they come across is the coffin from one of the other rooms, and Pangzi is showing off that this time around he actually knows things! Yay!

- Okay, this little smile and nod from Xiaoge to Wu Xie is just too adorable for words

- And in they go to investigate the coffin 

- I do have to say that it's a very pretty coffin, though 

- Yes, Xiaoge, that look is the appropriate look to give to Pangzi for saying that XD

- WTF is that 

- lol, I like this troll Wu Xie 

- Well. That was dramatic. 

- IDK how the coffin lid when flying off like that though, there doesn't seem to be a sea monkey hiding in there this time 

- Ew, that's a little gruesome 

- Wu Xie is appropriately horrified by this

- It does still amuse me how Pangzi isn't even pretending not to be a tomb robber this time. He's so refreshingly honest about it. 

- Hahaha. "Are you a Virgo? You're so picky" because Wu Xie is more interested in looking at the vases than in just grabbing a few to bail water with

- But hey, Wu Xie is a Pisces, nice to know 

- You're just gonna walk over the top of that coffin lid like that, huh, Pangzi? Weren't you the one talking about how valuable the coffin was? And how you needed to do the proper rituals to show respect before opening it?

- And Wu Xie is back in the other room happily playing with vases and looking at the stories painted on them 

- Alone 

- Nothing bad could possibly come of this 

- It's not like Wu Xie has a tendency to get into danger without even realising it 

- Not at all

- But he's so happy! Like a cute little puppy 

- lol, you really were so wrapped up in the vases that you didn't notice him leaving, huh, Wu Xie? 

- Oops, looks like you stayed there a bit too long, Wu Xie. The entrance to the other room isn't there anymore

- Hahah, Xiaoge is so delicately scooping out water with the bowl compared to Pangzi just fucking going for it with that huge vase 

- Aww, Xiaoge is worried about Wu Xie. 

- But, y'know, guys, maybe you should turn around and realise that there's no entrance anymore

- Although that body is pretty creepy and attention-grabbing 

- Yeah, I don't think that's gonna help, Wu Xie 

- You're so adorable, though 

- WTF how is there a live cat there 

- Yeah, I don't blame you for pulling a gun, Pangzi

- Now back to poor, worried Wu Xie 

- WTF does the theory of relativity have to do with the current situation? 

- Awww, he's talking himself down from panic again. And it seems to be working. 

- ...or not

- Ooh, the cat corpse is gone 

- Xiaoge doesn't seem that concerned. More interested in the human corpse 

- And they STILL haven't noticed that the entrance is gone I thought you had better situational awareness than this, Xiaoge 

- Oh, that's not a good sign

- Ah, finally, NOW you notice 

- As always, Xiaoge takes this the most calmly out of all of them 

- I think it's a little late for not getting anxious, Wu Xie, when you were practically panicking earlier 

- Uh-oh

- Here's the sea monkey, and Xiaoge is trapped in another room with no way of knowing 

- Even though he does seem to have a sixth sense solely dedicated to Wu Xie being in trouble

- Run, Wu Xie, run! 

- Lose your balance on those arrows! Throw those priceless vases as ineffective weapons! 

- Ah, a side chamber which conveniently as a door that closes and locks

- GDI, Wu Xie, don't taunt the monster that's chasing you 

- lol, his, 'wait, did that actually work' face

- Oh, so it's just gonna...dig through those stones. Fantastic. 

- Why is there no blood on his knife? There really should be blood on his knife after stabbing that deeply. 

- Hahah, Pangzi says that Wu Xie's guess was wrong, and Xiaoge just gives this lovely 'bitch please' look

- That's a hairy hairy hand right there 

- I don't think Xiaoge so much as flinched 

- Even when Pangzi's dart almost hit him 

- Oh, okay, he seems vaguely concerned about the mark on his wrist now

- Oh, and now he's worried 

- Yeah, when Xiaoge is worried and yells at you to run, it's time to fucking book it 

- Guess he's a bit too distracted for his Wu Xie Is In Danger sense to be tingling right now

- That's a weird looking coffin 

- And on Wu Xie considering anachronistic elements of this tomb that he's now noticing, Ep 3 comes to an end. 

- And with no updates to the Rescue Count, the Swoon Count, or the Evil Hair Count. 

[wrathofthewind]

ii. Mercy

The first he’d ever laid eyes on Marius, it was during a mission near the Jungles of Tar. Everyone knew not to enter beyond the bounds of the black palms and acid rain. The poisons alone made it impossible to traverse. But occasionally, a poor soul would wander in the dead of night, usually an ignorant one or worse, a desperate one. There had been many stories of sordid bandits and criminals attempting to flee for their life or evade capture by risking entry into the Jungle. If they managed to emerge, they would usually beg to be captured or end their life.

Some of the curses were putrified skin from the sap of plans that dripped on them, or becoming instantly blinded as they attempted to wash their face by a creek. If they dared eat, in the madness of starvation, their lips would be burned or teeth melted, never mind swallowing. Sometimes they found edible meats or fruits… and there were even prized medicines to be obtained, with the right equipment.

Anything that survived the Jungles of Tar was built from a material far beyond what was normal, it could endure and flourish? It was clearly the strongest of its kind. Arnalt never expected to find one such creature to be a child. This also happened often, parents without the means to raise a child would abandon them in one of the hollowed trees or on a pile of random leaves. The child would be like an offering to the gods at that point, or straight up fertilizer. But on a rare occasion, some children survived and were eventually found.

Perhaps a happy occasion for some, but to survive in the jungle, it was more likely the child was cursed by the Kur. The very source of the jungle’s terrifying symptoms… an ominous land that was buried underneath the jungle. The roots had clung to that land’s evil and to this day the Azurians would occasionally come to deliver cleansing spells and help the jungle heal. One patch per generation, perhaps.

Marius had been near the very edge of the forest. Arnalt and his guardians hadn’t even fully entered, on a mission to locate the rare Vegnas Spyralia. An extremely important herb for Arnalt’s crowning ceremony. He’d been 17 at the time, dressed head to toe in protective gear. Enchanted cloths tied all the way up to his mouth, with thick black robes concealing a lithe body underneath. His hair tied up and wrapped in the magical cloths as well, and his eyes shielded by a thin blue veil.

The boy, if it hadn’t been exposed to others before, would’ve thought him and his whole party a pack of monsters. Maybe assassins from the Fallaix—shadow dwellers. But the boy just started crying and plopped on the ground, squeezing a fruit until its juices stained his arm. He looked dust-covered and windswept. His clothes weren’t ragged, but his knees were scrapped and his knuckles were bruised. He might’ve accidentally wandered on his own and gotten lost, ended up in the borderlands. Hungry and scared, maybe climbed a few trees to locate someone.

The child now looked pitiful.

“Sire… should we…?” One of his guardians pointed at an arrow and his bow.

Arnalt lifted a hand. “It’s alright Pallax, he looks healthy enough, he might even survive.”

“But he’ll be cursed even if he does… who knows what poisons are now in his system.”

“I will not have a child killed by my men, under my watch. We save him. Quite frankly fuck the curse.”

“But… but it’s a Kur now!”

Tyssen also attempted to stop him but Arnalt wouldn’t have it and side-stepped him, immediately finding his way to the boy’s side and lifting his veil, revealing pale icy grey eyes and light lashes. “Child, do you know where you are?”

The boy looked up and his eyes were uncharacteristically bright and honeyed. Arnalt pat the dust from his head away and revealed a disheveled mass of mahogany curls. A good wash and that hair would gleam. He was clearly in great health, just dirty, scrapped up and scared. He sniffed softly and stared at Arnalt with a pout.

“Where are your parents?

The child shook his head.

“They’re deeper in the jungle?”

Another shake. His eyes watered and he gripped Arnalt’s sleeve.

Pallax gave an audible gasp behind them. The energy was restless even among these hardened men.

“Are they alive?”

It was a blunt but necessary question.

The boy shook his head and Arnalt sighed. A thousand different stories popped in his head, this childs robes had accessories, he was possibly from a wealthy merchant family, overtaken on the road by bandits or some such, or perhaps one of the monsters that occasionally emerge from the Craigh. He was obviously all alone now and worse, had ended up a Kur.

“Alright, come with me.” He unceremoniously picked him up and arranged him piggyback style. The child was 5 or 6, not exactly small but not too big and either way he’d slow them down if he walked.

“Highness! We beg you to reconsider!” Pallax was practically foaming at the mouth now.

“It’s not recommendable to take this child. You should leave him where you found him. It’ll be better for the world, and for… him.” Tyssen urged.

“Says who? Some crap folktale? When was the last time anyone was affected by the curse of the Kur, at most from the few accounts I know the children don’t even live past a few days, if he’s going to perish then the least we can do is offer him a warm bed and some food for his remaining days.”

“Sire! What’s in his hand!” All the guardians went for the hilt of their swords or drew their bow and arrow. The young boy had simply opened his palm near Arnalt’s face.

Arnalt glanced. It was a curled, purplish-red vine with tiny bell-like flowers sprouting around it. Arnalt snorted. “Well, well. How can this child be so lucky if it’s as cursed as you say? Look, Vegnas Spyralia.”

The guardians were indeed shocked by this, but still weary.

“This child might’ve just been my trial. Let this be a lesson for all of us, that compassion is still a noble trait of Azurian, and when I’m made formal prince, this shall be one of my virtues. Have it engraved on my sword’s hilt.” Now Arnalt was in great spirits. This indeed felt like a lucky day! They’d barely braved the dangerous jungle and instead rescued a child with the boon in hand. The child’s hand went limp, but the Vegnas Spyralia was still tightly gripped in his fingers. A grip like that meant this child had learned to hold on to something and desperately strive to never let it go.

A mother’s robe perhaps? He heard the soft snoring behind him and thought it amusing.

A Kurian. When he regained consciousness Arnalt made a note to ask what village he was originally from. Maybe after a bowl of hot soup the child would even tell them how he ended up in such a predicament.

Now, as he entered Marius’s humble quarters near the kitchens, he was still a little mystified that the fragile young child had grown much more past the date of his imminent “death”. If anything, he was like the very medicine they extracted from the jungle, the sturdiest of its kind. Even now, at still such a young age, his potential was palpable. His spiritual force even slightly frightening.

Arnalt observed him silently as Marius ran a few solo drills, unaware his Master had entered.

He unconsciously gripped the hilt of his sword, still engraved with the word “Merced”—Mercy—and cleared his throat.

Marius immediately stopped mid-kick in the air and fell gracelessly on the floor. He clambered up to a formal salute position, but it looked rather amusing with his clothes half off.

“My… My… My Lord if I had known you would grace me with—“ he stammered some more unsure of how to finish and quickly kneeled down again. As if awaiting command.

Arnalt felt his lips quirk slightly. He really could be too amusing. “At ease Marius. I just came to check your vitals.”

“You— you don’t have to…” the boy stood up again but looked down shyly. “A medic can surely—“

“They will send you no medics Marius and you know why.”

“It was an accident.” His voice had gotten smaller and smaller.

“Let me see.” Arnalt extended his hand, expecting Marius to hold out his wrist and allow him to examine.

For the most part his spiritual current seemed fine, but there was a light tremor somewhere near his thumb. Arnalt brought out a small knife from his belt and pricked the pad of that thumb. Immediately, a small stream of tar-like black blood spilled, viscously sliding out until it was replaced by the sight of normal fresh blood again.

“T-thank you, I’m sorry.”

“I thought we went through this, you are to never use Aerial magic, or any magic unless you’ve verified your blood is fully cleansed and your spiritual current is purified.”

“It was fine this morning.”

Arnalt sighed. It had been accumulating like this more frequently. He wondered if this was the real curse of being a Kurian, that they would eventually need to be exsanguinate to keep up with the rate of blood pollution. A very poor way to go indeed.

“We’ll need to drain you more often then. Here.” He passed Marius a strip of jerky. “You’ll need meat to keep up with all this bloodletting. You really should reconsider this martial knight business.”

“This is nothing!” Marius declared.

When he looked so determined Arnalt felt like once again patting his head, ruffling that thick head of hair. Arnalt’s face usually looked stoic and cold, a picture as calm as water without a single ripple. Befitting of the Azurian name. But even though his face remained unchanged, he must’ve let something slip in his expression because the young boy in front of him suddenly stared at him with eyes that practically glittered.

Arnalt frowned. “How dare you!”

Again Marius kneeled. “Forgive me my Lord, I momentarily forgot my place.”

Arnalt felt heavy all of a sudden. “They’re going to bring this case to the council. I don’t know if I can help you.”

“My Lord has already done too much for me. I will gladly accept whatever punishment befits me.”

What would it be this time Arnalt wondered… the water dungeon was grueling but at least it was nearby. Lashes were barbaric, but Marius was so sturdy he healed immediately. Either way Arnalt hated those old methods. He was known to never use them himself. The word on the hilt of his sword wasn’t just for display.

“I’ll try to speak for you, it really seems to just be this blood issue, but I make no guarantees.”

“My Lord is merciful.”

Arnalt thought the words sounded rather odd and… fond. He cleared his throat once more.

“Stand. Go eat. I’ll have them send over rice.”

“I should starve in penance.”

“Knowing the council. You just might.”

Just then a young girl entered, wearing a grey simple tunic. She bowed lightly. “My Lord Arnalt, your presence is requested in the council room.”

“Thank you Pagytha. Be sure to have rice sent here while I’m gone.”

“I... I can’t do that My Lord.”

Arnalt froze mid-step. He turned towards her, his eyes bloodless and cold. But this gaze wasn’t really directed towards her, but to the dark thought that overcame him.

“That was a direct order from your Prince. What is the meaning of this?”

“The King has ordered his... the creature’s exile. By royal decree it cannot be undone. Forgive me my Lord, I am only authorized to speak until this point.”

Arnalt’s shock was the first ripple on his face, quickly replaced by anger. ‘Can you at least tell me to where the hell exactly he’s been exiled?’ He instantly felt bad for his tone, gripping the hilt of his sword once more to calm down and when he was sufficiently less altered, he at last spoke up.

“How long?”

“A year, sire.”

“Where?”

“The Winterlands.” 

It was just as he’d feared. 

[prorevenge]

He must have been a master hacker.

Warning: book ahead

Decades ago a was a restaurant manager. After years of working for TGI McChillibees I was recruited by a regular to come work at a hotel.

I was tired of the big corporate game and this seemed like a new challenge. Plus I was tired of trying to take pride in slinging food that when done perfectly was still mediocre at best.

Right away it was evident this hotel was a shit show. It turned out the property was under federal receivership as the owner was under indictment for making half a billion dollars in loans to banks that didn’t exist for companies that didn’t exist.

(One day the bellman who drove the shuttle can came back from a run superexcited to tell everyone the owner was back in country and he knew it because the bellman saw the owner led out of the airport in handcuffs by guys with windbreakers that read FBI.)

I was brought in to update the bars and restaurants but was not allowed to change anything. The head of housekeeping denied my request to dim the lights in the bar because it looked cleaner. I later found out this is common in some Asian countries but who the hell in America wants to sit in a bright white box with a bar in a shitty airport hotel when there are a load of hip bars a cab ride away.

No one. And that’s who was drinking in our bar. No one.

I was used to working with people more or less my age and with the same point of view. Now I was managing long term union members who gave zero fucks. Add to that the complete lack of training I was given in how to work in a union environment and it wasn’t pretty.

The HR manager (who recruited me) was leading negotiations with the union for the next contract and didn’t want to upset the apple cart so she refused to endorce any discipline. We had a busser no call/no show for a month. We let him go as it was job abandonment, it was grieved, and he was brought back as a banquet porter. Wtf?

It was a union house yet when someone no showed or called out I was expected to cover. I didn’t know this until a few weeks in when I got a call at 3 am saying I had to cover the breakfast shift as both server and cashier.

The controller was convinced everyone was stealing. She walked around all day looking for opportunities, nay possibilities that someone might remove a paper clip and screw the hotel.

The accountant sat in his office chain smoking cigarettes. He looked like something out of a movie with his long nails and an ash never less that three inches long. His office was always locked and he was barricaded in his desk by two shredders and they were always going.

The banquet manager got arrested for a DUI and convinced the guy who had my job before me to bail him out. No one knew this until one day he no showed and the cops come by looking for homie. Turns out the old manager had put his house on the line for this dude so he was fucked.

The Chef was awful. Like out of a book awful. He would buy fish from his steward who was catching them in the bay. The bay that was known to be full of PCBs and other contaminants from a few hundred years of pollution and was deemed off limits for catching food.

The Sunday buffet was everything from the last week or so covered in cream sauces and lemon slices. Didn’t matter if it was bad or not, just add more lemon slices.

Banquet food came out of the freezer and got put in the hot box hours before the event yet this clown ran around yelling at everyone like he was Gordon Ramsay.

The GM was told his contract wouldn’t be renewed a month into my tenure so he said fuck it and had me order cases of Dominus, and Lynch Bages, a fifth growth Bordeaux that drinks like a first. I learned that wine crap later as I was 25 and considered Miller Genuine Draft Light and Rumpleminz the pinnacle of fine drinking. All I knew was the shit was spends.

He would get off work and sit in the bar knocking back $60 of wine (around $100 in today’s scrilla) while I was yelled at for letting him do it.

Let him do it? That was my boss. How could I stop him?

Needless to say things weren’t working out so after a few months we agreed at my 90 day review to part ways. It was an easy decision.

I was moving on and happy in my next gig but still friends with some of the people I worked with who were there. In fact I ended up in the wedding of one of them.

I was already salty about my time there as what I was promised and what happened were worlds apart. But then my friend got fucked over.

She had landed a long term contract with the power company. We had some bad storms that damaged the power grid and they brought people from another market in for 9 months to trim trees, modernize things, whatever it is power companies due in such cases.

My friend should have received 1.5% of all their billing. Rooms, food, misc expenses all should have had a slight vig that kicked to her as was laid out in her employment bonus program. This would have been huge money as it was dozens of rooms a night over nine months.

When bonus time rolled around they kicked her a tiny fraction of what she was owed. Instead of close to 6 figures she barely got a few grand.

She was livid, as was her fiancé and I.

One night we were all bitching about it at the bar watching football. I really hated that place for me, for her, for everyone stuck in that hellhole. A terrible thought entered my brain around halftime and wouldn’t go away. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do but this would be my night.

I drove to the property and parked next door. It was not a well lit area so I could sneak over to where my old office was and jumped the wall. We always left the slider open to go out and smoke (it was a converted ground floor room) and I knew the banquet manager who shared the office was still on the run so I should be safe.

Once in the office I looked around trying to decide what to do when I saw the POS computer. This was the 90s so everything was controlled by this dinosaur from the 80s in the backroom that had a plastic box over the keyboard so no one could accidentally hit a key.

I grabbed my shirt like I’d seen in the movies so I wouldn’t leave any prints and fired it up. This old beast ran MSDOS as it’s operating system and I was enough of a geek to know what to try.

I typed in cd\ to get to the root directory. Then del . For the vast majority out there who have no idea what that means wiped out the root directory. I was giddy with that total “aw fuck what did I just do” feeling. Not sure if that was enough and completely surprised I was able to do so I double downed and typed in format /c.

The damn thing blinked and just started chugging along. Fucking erased itself.

I got the hell out of there and somehow made it home without a dui. I guessed they’d have to reboot from a back up and ha ha that would be a pain in the ass.

A year or so later I ran in to some of the hotel peeps in a bar and they asked if I’d heard about what happened.

It turned out that someone hacked the pos system and destroyed it. Because it was so old, “experts” had to be flown in and they said the person must have been a masterful hacker because if they had done anything less then it would have been an easy fix. Anything more and it would have left electronic fingerprints.

It turned out that there were no back ups. It was towards the end of the month and all the sales data was gone. The experts couldn’t rebuild a system so old so a new system had to be purchased and installed. That alone ran over 6 figures to do.

This also triggered an audit.

Remember the controller who was convinced everyone was stealing? Turns out she was. She and the accountant were led out of the hotel in handcuffs as it turns out the feds don’t like it when you embezzle from a company in their receivership.

At that point it hit me that I could be in some seriously hot water so once my heart started pumping again I stopped any sort of coy “what do you mean” bullshit when asked if I knew anything about it and shut the hell up.

The statute of limitations is long gone and it’s an obvious throwaway. I wish I could take credit for being such a master l33t haxter but it was just the actions of a pissed off drunk with a geeky background.

(source) (story by Poskilla)

[poisonedamaryllis]

Good morning peach!! What's the gods and goddesses au about? *A* 😘👌❤🌹🌠

HELLO MARS!! I’ve finally gotten around to answering this! I took a lot of time because beside my legendary laziness and poor time management skills, I uhhh had no idea what this AU was truly about XD But now I do!

The idea stemmed a whiiiiiile ago, months ago I think, maybe more, when I had a dream where Hana was the goddess of death who could summon zombies. And like, that’s cool and all but Hana as the goddess of Death wouldn’t make much sense so when I started blogging about the gods and goddesses AU, I had conflicting representations of what she was in this AU and of what the plot would be. 

A quick look at what had inspired me helped me grasp better what I wanted from this AU! 

The story revolves around a sacred kingdom of gods who rule over the world. Everything in that world is attached to the authority of a good: life, death, birth, nature, time... The balance of the world is the hands of a few godly beings, and would one of them become rogue, that balance would be lost.

Or at least, that was what his family had told him.

Killua isn’t a god. Not yet, according to his family, at least. He is the heir of the Zoaldyeck family--the House of Chaos that gathers the gods at the source of every tempestuous crisis in the world. His father, Silva, the God of Chaos and Liars, has great expectations regarding Killua’s future reign over his House. He knows his son has infinite potential and outstanding power, but there is only one slight issue: he doesn’t know what Killua would be the god of.

Here is the thing: a lot of gods weren’t born as gods. Most of them were muses, some nymphs, some monsters, witches, fairies, and a handful were humans before they acquired the power to join the Garden of Divinities. 

At this point, Killua is just a muse. Muse of Destruction, his family calls him, a step behind his rightful place as the God of Destruction in the House of Chaos. Killua doesn’t think that suits him--he has too many dreams of the human world, daydreams of travels and bare feet in the grass, questions about all the things life has to offer to the living--and he doesn’t like the title, but his family knows better. Family always does.

Things change when the Goddess of Light goes missing.

Nightfall takes over--darkness is upon the world, and the sun dims into a pale shadow of itself. The Council of Gods is summoned to find a solution, with Silva at its head. They know they have to take heavy measures quickly and efficiently to find the goddess before it’s too late. 

Without light, there is no life.

Killua is the one tasked to find the goddess, a mission that is meant to affirm his place as a god and not just as a muse. 

It is his one chance to grow--and the world’s fate is in his hands. Yet all he can think about is that he will be wandering in the world of humans. Unmonitored. Without his brother’s constant scrutiny trained on him. 

Free.

During his journey to find the goddess, Killua meets rogue gods for the first time in his life. His father always spoke of them as though they were disgraces--the gods who had given up their rule in the kingdom to mingle with the humans--but Killua doesn’t see it that way. He was always curious of those legendary gods who had done what he could only dream of--even if it was unspeakable among his kind.

So when he meets Gon, the God of Nature, Family, and Fishermen, Leorio, God of Healing and Fortune, and Elias, the God of Time and Memories, Killua is torn. They alert him of the cunning and thirst for power that is breeding a new movement in the kingdom--a movement they fled--but they offer nonetheless to aid him in his quest to find the missing goddess, as it is not just the politics of the kingdom that is jeopardized by her absence but the balance of the whole world.

They find her, together, eventually. She was never in hiding, or missing--not really.

The real issue is that she has forgotten everything. The one thing she still remembers is her name.

Hana.

................

:DDD

OKAY LOOK... this is very sloppy because I have a feeling this could evolve into a story of its own because the political intrigue behind it is worth its own story XD 

Basically, Silva is the god of Chaos, and he’s baaaad because i can do that. he’s been abusing Killua since he was a kid to try and fit him into his mold because he thinks Killua has incredible power and potential to become a great god.

He’s right about that! Killua will become a god, but he certainly won’t be the god of destruction and that’s where Silva’s understanding of his son stops. 

Now, the intrigue behind it is that since Silva rules over the House of Chaos (the house of the Zoaldyecks divinities), he has a lot of power over the kingdom. His wife is the goddess of Madness, his first son became the god of Nothingness, and he is about sure his third son could be destruction incarnate! (milluki who??? silva doesnt him hekjhg). Now, the problem is that his decisions in the council are always countered by the other houses (House of Life, House of Arts, House of Justice, etc.). Silva doesn’t seek absolute power--he seeks the resilience of his opponents to make his decretes pass. 

Why? i dont know because he is persuaded he wants to stop those silly dreams from polluting his son’s head; and for that, he needs the power to change the world and so, to change his son--Killua. 

Yeah he’s worse than in the anime lol. 

So what’s the best thing for him to do if he wants the other Houses to give up to him? 

Well, he needs Chaos to be absolute. And for that, he wants absolute Darkness, and he wants the Goddess of Death to relinquish her power (that’s Duanphen, the goddess of death :D). With Death in his house and Light abolished, he could exercize his power over the world no matter what the other Houses think and thus destroy his son’s dreams and exert absolute control over him. 

Because, you know, that’s what’s best for him :))

SOOO since this is kinda very evil, Hana, the goddess of light, has word of the scheme and she decides to go rogue (like Gon and Elias) so that Silva can’t find her and force her to relinquish her power over light (because she doesn’t want absolute darkness you know). But Silva knows!! so there’s a fight blabla and since he’s more powerful he sows chaos in her mind and she forgets everything about who she is--including her rule over Light. She still manages to escape before he controls her, so YEAH there is darkness all over the world, but since he didn’t catch her, she can still have the chance to recover her memory and thwart his plans!!!

Hence why he sends Killua to find her. He is convinced this will make killua a ~~~truuue~~~ god of destruction and it will bring back the girl he wants to control so she can’t meddle with his plans.

Now here’s the thing: killua will befriend gon, leorio, and elias, and they’ll teach him that everything his father has been teaching him from birth is wrong!! then they find Hana, and she slowly recovers her memory and shares what she knows about the baaad evil plans. (and they fall in love obviously duh). It’s through her that Killua will learn he’s got nothing to do with destruction and that’s why he never managed to become a god--he’ll eventually accept his true nature and become the God of Curiosity and Rebels. With a dash of lightning bc i can.

Oh and ofc there are other ocs in there! Idk if they’ll be as prominent but Malzi is the god of Darkness and since Hana (goddess of light) is gone, he has WAY TOO MUCH WORK ON HIS HANDS because there’s way too much darkness to manage, which pisses him off, so he decides to investigate where the fuck she went because goddammit i didn’t sign to manage the entire world’s darkness and this is why we can’t trust young gods, these silly kids. And Arashi is the goddess of Enigmas and Riddles and she senses Silva has iffy intentions so she pairs up with Duanphen (goddess of death) to figure this out. 

And well, Natsu also looks for her daughter--goddess or not, Hana is still her baby. I think Natsu is the goddess of Protection.

ANYWAYY this is getting way too long XD I hope this answers roughly what this AU is about! It would deserve its own story to exist but it’s really fun to think about XD Hana as the goddess of light is so fitting and I love the idea of Killua slowly coming to terms with the fact that his family abused him and lied to him and well, him finding his own path and identity through meeting with people who understand him. 

[bleedingcoffee42]

Eureka AU - Part 9

Weeeeee...here we go.  Future Me is going to be so happy when she edits this and has to make up entire fields of shitpost science.�� Hahaha.  

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ed's eyes shifted over to Mustang who now sounded a lot more like the boss they all knew.  His statement was an order, it wasn't a discussion starter, and Al was already reprogramming his tiny robots to do as asked.    He had to admit, it was good to feel like the condescending asshole was back to being himself because they genuinely needed him.

“That would avoid sending her into shock when you kill a massive load of invasive pathogens in her body.”   Knox said.  He was here to remind everyone his patient was human and this wasn't a simulation. Killing a large quantity of anything in her bloodstream could very well have consequences they were not planning for.   In theory a lot of things sounded good, but they were just desperately looking for any idea that could work at this point and that was not how he practiced medicine.   “I do like the idea of giving the virus something else to attack, that will give her own immune system a chance to fight back as well.”

“How are we going to get the nanites out of her system?”  Marcoh asked. “Now they're going to be twice as big, if not bigger, and she's already lost blood?”

Ed watched Mustang stand up, his focus seemed to have returned and his attitude noticeably changed.  He was back to commanding everyone's attention in the room, they all looked to him even though he hadn't made a sound to indicate he had an answer.  

“Chelation.” Roy said as if the answer was simple and had been there the entire time.   “Dr. Comanche has a project that is meant to extract metals from the blood stream, more than just the common treatment for lead and mercury poisoning.   It's been approved for medical use, extensive testing already.   Last proposal he submitted to me implied he was able to use it to extract valuable metals from any source.   He's trying to market it to me as a way to clean waterways of mercury, but his research paperwork tells me he's also looking to harvest more valuable non-toxic metals in the process.“

Ed saw where Mustang was going with this.  “So he has the equipment to synthesize an amino acid to do his bidding in his lab?”

Roy pulled his keys out of his pocket and held them up.  “Shall we?”

Ed smiled and together they left Al's lab to go take what Comanche had available.  Under any other circumstances he would be delighted they were pillaging his colleagues labs and utilizing the incredible array of resources in this building for good.   Right now he was just happy it was here and they were able to take advance of years of research to save someone they all held dear.   He ran over to the elevator to hit the button and open it for them both to head to the next floor. “So what tipped you off about Comanche?”

  “He clearly doesn't think my field of Thermodynamics includes equilibrium thermodynamics because he might as well have highlighted all the documentation of his side project in the proposal he submitted to me.”

“Not to defend the guy, cause he's a dick, but you are notorious for not looking at paperwork.”  Ed reminded him.  Mustang looked over at him and smiled, a smug smile, that made him think that that was a ruse.   The asshole did read everything.  

“In this instance, I thought it best to catch him harvesting his retirement income from the polluted streams instead of trying to prosecute him based on theoretical research that not judge is going to understand.”   Roy replied.  

“Or let him collect next years budget for you since his inventions are contractually property of the government while he's working in this facility.”   Ed countered.

“You have no idea how much this place costs to keep running.”  Roy said and the doors to the elevator closed and they went up to the next floor.  “You especially cost a lot of money.”

“We might not have to beg for Congressional pocket change if you spent more time being a scientist and less time as a politician.”  Ed said to him and Mustang narrowed his eyes at him.  

“There is honestly nothing good that will come from any projects I create with my specialty.”  Roy said.  “I've come to that conclusion long ago.  I'll do more good filtering what the government sees and receives from Eureka.”

“Like the flame-thrower gloves you keep in your desk?”

“Stop breaking into my office.”   Roy hissed as the bell dinged indicating they were on the next floor.   Ed snorted, as if it was his right.   Fine.  He'd put an end to that.  “I have sex with my wife on that desk.”

“What the fuck, Mustang?”

Roy smiled and stepped off the elevator and walked down the hall to Comanche's lab, room 047.   He unlocked the door and turned on the light.   Together he and Ed started turning on equipment and looking for what they needed.  “Comanche used his biological advancements in the field to get himself hired here, now he's focusing on environmental uses for his research.   I suspect he's doing that to not only gain favor within the community here, which is by nature rooted in finding cleaner and less invasive ways of doing things, but also to divert attention from what he may be doing with his original research.”

Ed was already diving into the files on the computer.    There was a lot of information here and it backed up Mustang's theory that Comanche was a really busy guy.   “Well that would explain how a dude his age can hop around on that peg leg like he's a ballerina.  He's using Chelation to clean his own  body of the wear and tear of aging.  I thought that was bullshit pseudo-science.”

“What's commercially available, yes..”  Roy said and turned on the machine that was used to synthesize the amino acids for the particular task needed.   There were profiles in the computer already for the standard uses of cleaning lead, mercury and arsenic from the body.   There was more though and Roy opened them up to see each to consider the formulas.   “EDTA for cleaning his clogged arteries and another for his joint arthritis.”

“Glad he's testing that on himself but I think keeping the obvious advances to himself is bullshit.” Ed shook his head.  “I see what you're saying about his environmental project.   Someone is a naughty alchemist, pulling lead out of the water and with it- gold.”

“He's probably old enough to have called himself an alchemist.”  Roy replied and heard Ed chuckle.   “I'm sure he's hiding it all so he can diversifiy his retirement fund,  quite the windfall when he takes this to the private sector.   I don't feel bad at all for breaking in here to use it for my own personal reasons.”

“It's personal for all of us too.” Ed said.  “Hawkeye is the best thing to happen to this town in a long time.”

“I'm well aware that if our little feuds ever came to taking sides that this town would have all stood behind her.”  Roy said, thankful that those days were behind them but also with a touch of nostalgia for the rivalry they had started with.  She made him work to outmaneuver her and that was something he couldn't say of a lot of people.  

“Alright, I have something promising here.   Let me upload Al's data and see about making us something. Metallurgy is a specialty of mine I got this.”  Ed said and connected his tablet to the computer and started to work his magic.  

“How is your brother going to handle us targeting his nanites and neutralizing them with this? I'm basically having you classify them as a toxin to have them broken down and flushed down the drain.”  Roy asked.   He didn't want to mention the Ultimate Eye tech they had thrown into the tank that was going to be destroyed with them.     He'd figure out that later.

“Al's not selfish, he understands that the sacrifice is worth it.   It's a setback, but he's patient.” Ed said and kept typing.   Heavy metals and elements were a breeze for him, he barely needed to focus to re-calibrate the program.   “Besides I'm sure he's discussing a catheter and collection bag with Knox as we speak.   Nothing gets flushed down the drain.”

“Riza will be thrilled to hear he's called 'dibs' on her piss.   Life in Eureka never ceases to keep her guessing.”  Roy said and saw data being transferred to the machine he was staring at.  Ed was fast.    He looked at the time and realized it wasn't even midnight yet.  It felt like they had been here forever, that he'd lived a few lifetimes between carrying Riza into the infirmary around 1800 and now.   This was a glimpse of her job, what happened when he was away.   This was why she was so adamant of being read in on everything that had the potential to go to hell, because when it did it was a race to stop a catastrophe.   They played on a whole different playing field here, science without regard to established rules and so often bordering on playing God. When it went wrong, it went horribly wrong.  They had so much they still needed to talk about and he hoped he got the chance.

“She'll be pissed.” Ed snorted and Mustang shot him a look.  “She hates sitting out.”

“That she does.”   Roy said and looked at the screen.  They were ready to begin synthesizing the next step in the process.  

[tikien]

#OpenLetter

An Open Letter to one of the Immeasurable Secret Mistresses of my begone Big Love:

Feel like Spread the word? Please do.

Share your thoughts? Oh yeah.

But above all, do what you, Yourself want to do with it.

Nothing is as it seems...

Xx Caroline

Hello Milly,

I am a woman of truth, I always favour truth, purity, however cold or cruel or hard the truth will be for me. It means I can then move on without wasting my time of being fooled by lies intended to preserve my feelings.

I do not have any control over your behaviour and I absolutely have no desire to carry that burden.

But I refuse, I will not tolerate, not indulge your disrespect for my children and me, ánd indirectly for all of my dearest ones who I love. (Not to mention your children, your parents, your 'loved' ones, the world where we live in.)

Your rudeness Milly, your dishonour, your inpurity, indelicacy. Your betrayal for all those years, it is dísgusting to me Caroline, a woman you don't know 'Kak' about. But what you dó know, is that you were cocksucking my husband and screwing around with him for years!

You were my backyard neighbour. You lived and sneaked around behind my back, literally backbiting. Twisted story this, but don't worry bearded darnel, to me, you, is only a small piece of my total reality.

The day my husband started cheating on me, by having disgraceful frustrated sex with a forever unenlightened number of women and with you, he started to take home theirs and your sick negative energy. Into my life! Into my home! Affecting my everyone! And affecting my everything.

At first you two met at your secret meeting point, the fishing spot. And while others around you were having real fish pleasure (and getting free performance) you were fishing rotten fish, in my pole.

Not to speak of your pathetic text messages when approaching my husband. Like the code-sign which you two agreed.

Luckily you do not have a partner to hide for.

The secret-code-sign was to use the . (the point), when the initiative was yours. My husband then would always have an excuse like: "Oh that's someone workrelated, it was probably unintentionally."

(Note: I've read my husband named you 'Trackreceipt'-and then mentioned-'the name of a big workrelated company' in his phonecontacts. He also identified you as 'AaaaaFucker', 'Overaged cocksucking whore', 'Assfucker', 'Suckwhore' and so on. Most recent your label was only 'Whore'. Sorry for the awful accurate words, I just read history.)

Well, the pointless points . .

You texted a lot of unintentional ones . .

.

.

.

.

Childish cleverness.

But it must feel exciting right? To have that bond? Oeehhh a little secret-code-sign between just the two of you, between you and my husband?

Later on you got more confident (misplaced). Texted him things like "Fishing game?" and "You have my heart". Or did you mean "My hell is yours"?

You felt secure enough then to get your knees dirty and fooling around with him at your own place.

Just a couple of meters distanced from you, literally behind your back, I was there, at home, waiting my husband to come home late from work. Oftentimes proudly yearning for my 'hardworking dedicated' husband.

If I had only watched my back I could have smelled, heard and seen you two fuck buddies. A perfect Satire!

Eventually you had no dignity at all anymore. You felt entitled to enter and to fuck up My Home!

Do wrong to no one Milly!

And let me be very clear again: Never Ever enter my property, or even put one foot in my garden and in my house ever again!

You watched and spied on my husband our kids and me. For so many times.

I saw you once, watching us getting into our car. Openly spying at us. (secretly eyeballing). Hanging on your balcony while smoking a cigarette and patting your cat. With that smile on your face full of misplaced courage and selfishness and your imprudent bodylanguage. Now it all makes sense to me. It was too risky for him to look back, hein? Ánd you knew, it made you feel excited, powerful, what a sick mind games.

Did it make you feel great to 'have' that power?Did it make you feel happy? Didn't you think of our emotional wellbeing at all? That was totally not in your interest, right?

What do you feel every morning when you wake up? Are you capable of taking a real look into your own eyes in the mirror? To look at your soul, who you are for real? That includes your darkside.

Well, do you love yourself? As a human being? As a mother? Maybe a grandmother? As a daughter? Do you love yourself as a friend? As a secret mistress? Do you?

And do your loved ones know about the pure Milly? How you live your life for real? Or is it all fake what's in your life?

Do they know that your ego, your self-interest is your foundation of morality?

If they don't, they cannot help you and you will always continue to live your life feeling empty and lonely. Loveless loneliness causes addiction and if you can't bond with other people you'll bond with the source of your addiction.

As you know already I unexpectedly caught you in flagrante delicto recently.

Seeing you skilled sneakin' through the bushes, entering my house by the backyard. And flee out of my frontdoor, like a trapped thieve, after I entered my own house by the back, out of the blue.

What the Heck you think you were doing?!

The minute I left my Home with my children, out of necessity, you thought you had a Chinese bucket to enter my property more freely? And enjoy my house more and more?Which still should be the save and peacefull home of my child!

You really thought you had a free ticket to infect the love in my house which was put in by my loved ones and by me?

Enjoying your stolen time and drinking the liquors which I brought into my home? Malibu mixed with orangejuice is what you drink, isn't it.

The sexual slackness you had with my husband has little to do with being conscious, and no love at all.

Sexual intercourse, being intimate with someone should balance each other, sharing tenderness, gentleness, sensitivity, pure vulnerability, trust, acceptance, respect. Grounding an inner connection, strengthening a boundless soul bond, and creating more unrestrained pure extased love energy.

Sex divorced from love is the thief of personal dignity.

Did you really think you had my permission to befilth and pollute my house with your unhealthy body and your unhealthy soul?

You knew better all along, referring to your way of entering my house, pourly dressed and experienced-bush-worming.

Respect other people's feelings Milly, even if it doesn't mean anything to you, it could mean the world to them.

And maybe, maybe you have to speak it out loud. Look at yourself in front of the mirror and say it:

"I am Milly, I am 50+ and I sneak through bushes. I am a practicing christian and I secretly enter and pollute a place where I do not belong at all. I know I hurt others because of my desire for sins, but I do it anyway just to meet up my fuckboy. I am proud to be a secret mistress!"

How does that feel? To be honest with yourself? That's what it is.

You two had real great times hanky-panky in my house, hein! Suck facing, roughhousing, having tear-jerking-fairy-tale-junkfood-dinners-for-2, under my cosy sheltered porch.Drinking some vanish-all-boundaries-booze by heavenly candlelight. Did you take a good look at the light? Did you stare into the flame? And at the picture? The picture shining next to this always burning candle?

The picture of my deceased father, me and your secret fuckboy? How shameless romantic, getting off by that. Disgraceful sickening.

You have serious problems Milly. You're not healthy, and by saying that I mean you have mental issues (and therefore also physical inconveniences). You have no self-respect, no self-esteem, no self-love and no dignity at all.

What about your infantile loveletter you put so brutally in the car of my husband?

Your words, and a red heart with a stethoscope on it, printed on paper.

That's a good advice for you Milly: To listen closely to your heart and maybe you should use the stethoscope. It is often used to listen to heart sounds.

Within the letter you put a golden key with a red ribbon on it.

And your words to him:

"The key is to use to the entrance of my heart, might you ever need it don't hasitate. For a fishing-game on the familiar place. You will always be here, if you'll ever come or not. Think of you. Your secret mistress."

So, it's necessary to use a golden key with a red ribbon, to open your heart? Wow! Amazing!!! My heart Milly, is freely accessible for love, no key needed.

The familiar place? The fishing-you-and-cocksucking-my-husband-in-a car-spot is a well known (read: save and happy) place for you? For a woman of your age, are you happy by that circumstances? Seriously?

Your secret mistress? Uou must be very proud of yourself, hein? Nicknaming yourself his secret mistress to him. Is that what you admire? Or desire? Betrayal and secrecy. Superb Milly, really magnificent. Noteworthy!

You sneaked around my home, putting your hopeless non-attractive-begging-for-the-wrong-attention-love-letter into his car, while we probably were asleep next to each other, only a couple of meters distanced from you. Inglorious humiliating.

How does it feel to walk willingly into a dark path? It seems so unsophisticated to me and without any shame. Rotten and greedy.

What did you feel when you heard of our divorce? You felt delighted? Finally, after all those years? Whoohooeewww. The party is on. And when you noticed our home went for sale? Ohhh yeah!

Does it make you feel blessed?

Knowing that you are partly responsable too, by inflicting your pain on others? Are you happy with the havoc you created? And don't you care about the people whose lives you have shattered?

No guilt? And now? While you read this, does is still make you feel delighted? Satisfied by your desires?

Always be honest with yourself Milly, so you can learn to respect yourself, to love yourself and to have some self-worth, Amour Propre.

For real, you must feel miserable being a fossil fuckgirl. It makes you lose your values, your character, reality and it isn't love at all. You gained lies, deceit and stolen affections which didn't ever belong to you.

Right after the moment I caught you red-handed, skulduggery in my house, I waylaid you at the back. Waiting for you to pass by on your pussyfooting way back home.

And there, after a couple of minutes, I saw you in distance. Walking towards me like a waddling duck and shiffling forward slowly. An insecure piece of human full of guilt, head pointed down and slumbed hunched shoulders of poor confidence, untruthfullness and pain.

'Flawless Miss Piggy on her too highly raised heels off the ground' and ‘Nellie hippo squeezed in 2 floating rings to keep her from drowning', were crossing my mind for a moment. Poor you. I felt your sadness and shame so deeply it overwhelmed me. The extreme sad anger, the negative energy you exposed almost made me puke.

When I stared into your eyes I saw they're coloured rarely and extremely beautiful, but not like a turquoise sea, which could be. There is no peace in your eyes Milly, your eyes didn't look pretty at all. What your eyes exposed to me made me feel godforsaken miserable.

I told you that very moment never to put one step, one foot, ever again in my garden or in my house again. Ever again!

I was very clear to you Milly: I forbid you to ever enter my property again.

You said you understood. Yeah, sure you understood. Shameless you. Leave your own shit in your own shithole and don't drop it in my place.

You do not have any respect for me or others. You dishonour my being because of your own selfish desires. It's embarrassing you're that desperate.

Let me stir up this textmessage, a message from you to my then husband: "Ready soon to fish I hope, I'm waiting my parents to leave".

This is the respect you have for your parents?Being busy with your fuckboy while they're in your presence? And hoping them to leave soon because of your desire for fish? Unbelievable. You actually should have to enjoy the precious moments of reality and be thankfull they're still in your life, for such a long time.

Did they harm you in anyway? Didn't they show you good moral behaviour? That, if you're about to do something and you want to know if it's a bad idea, you should project it on yourself first?

Do the right thing Milly, even when no one is watching, it is called integrity.

The relationship you set with yourself sets the tone for every other relationship in your life, you have with anyone. So, see every problem in your life as a lesson for you to make yourself stronger, more loveable, happier. Thén you'll never have to play the roll of the victim.

That's where you good at right, playing the victim? Hoping that it's giving you the attention you desire for? It's not ever gonna make you happy.

Desire, Lies and Secrets are like a cancer to the soul. It eats away what's good and leaves only destruction behind.

Have you ever really questioned yourself? What you were doing? And what the concequences could be? Also for other people, who don't want to be involved? Which you knew all along, but you left them no choice. My children? Your children? My parents? Your parents? My siblings and their families? Yours? My sincere friends? Your friends? All of my dear ones who are in my heart? Me myself?!

You inflamed love, kindness, temperance, humility, wisdom, respect, diligence, patience, justice, trust, self-temperance, innocence, acceptence, courage, believes, hopes, grace, caritas and so on an on.

People like you Milly are a pain in the arse, a plague, by protecting the purity of children. Children must not be cursed by emotional immature harmful and abusive 'adults' like you. By you poisonned beings. You bedevilled their purity. You sparked off a piece of their childhood. Giving them the inescapable burden of seeing their parents' grieve which they cannot understand at all.

Do you think children have the ability to see the light in the fact that there are people in this world who harm innocent people who they don't know because of their own ego? That these people can even be your own neighbours or your loved ones? Do you think they can cope shit like this?

Sounds really logical hein? Who wouldn't understand?

Lots of 'grown-ups' do not even have the awareness of understanding the poisoning conduct of people like you, people who suffer from mental disorder.

How did you guide your children good moral in life without them seeing any?

Do you realize how much strength it costs? Strugling every day to stay pure, strong, loveable and unconditional? As a mama? As a sister? As a friend? As a daughter? As a human being? To be a happy person? Who loves life? Pulling yourself out of a poisonous situation with someone you loved so deeply? Do you have any idea?

I think you do know the feeling, the feeling of being deeply betrayed yourself. That has happened to you in the past right?

But you never were strong enough to face yourself and no courage to search in your own past, finding out what causes your pain.

Instead of getting better you got bitter. You started to inflict your pain on others, in your selfish pursuit of your own satisfaction of ignorance.

It is a working-your-ass-off-duty, an almost-unbearable-mind-growing-battle, a very-lonely-bewildered-struggle-not-being-able-to-verbalize-properly.

I can tell you that for sure Milly, as an 'experience-expert'.

So, don't ruin other people's happiness just because you can't find your own. And before hurting others, ask yourself what is really hurting you.

I have viewed your social media to see if I could learn. You remember this post you shared with the whole world?

"You can't change the world but you can make a difference."

Is this the difference you want make Milly Making this world a little more rotten?

Practice what you preach or change your speech.

This world would be a better place to live in, if we learn not to play with heads and hearts of others. If we stop hurting peoples' feelings. If we all make ourselfs strong enough never to lie, no matter what the situation is. If only we all would learn to be true.

I read you are a daughter of god, a practicing christian, a pearl in God's hand? “You know that the Father knows you? You know that you are of value? You know that you're a pearl? A pearl in God's hand!"

Do you know the deeper meaning behind this Milly? Read about it. Is that the base of your morality?

Your profilepic and some other recognizable selfies made me wonder.

Why do you share your selfies on social media after sending this exact selfies first to my then husband? With your sweet tooth texts. I mean the ones you made with my husband in your thoughts or in your presence, you know? To show the world how happy you 'seem' just seconds after you went down on him? And to receive compliments (read: get false validation) of how beautiful you 'look' in that state.

Nothing is as it seems right?

Black can appear white when the light is blinding but white loses all luster at the faintest sign of darkness....I know.

And what about all the other things you carry, which cannot bear the daylight and are still hidden in the dark? Waiting to be found by you or to be taken into your grave someday? Your secrets, that are no big deal to anyone but to yourself.

You as a christian should benefit the precious advantage you have versus heathen. The ten commandments: very simple but very valuable fundamental guidelines, to live your life meaningful based on ethics and worship. And the seven Holy virtues, they cure the seven Capital sins, didn't you know?

You should take benefit from it and use this to leg-up properly. Mortal sin, I guess, is a refusal of God's offer to live and love. It's a sign of emotional immaturity, abusive and it should never be excused or tolerated. You are a pathatic lost woman who really needs help.

Everybody makes mistakes, through all of our lifes. And we all do some things sometimes we are ashamed of and regretting afterwards. But mistakes Milly, mistakes are meant for learning not for repeating.

There are going to be very painful moments in your life that will change your entire world in a matter of minutes. These moments will change you. Let these moments change you a stronger, smarter, kinder woman. Not a selfdestructing one who tears herself and others down.

Feel offended Milly? Insulted? Ashamed? Hurt? Humiliated? If so, realize it's your warning indicator showing you where to look within yourself for unresolved issues.

All of this is my perception, my opinion, the truth is whatever you think is true, I can only make you think.

But for you Milly I hope, just for your own sake, that you'll once be brave enough, strong enough and pure enough to change your heart of stone for a heart of flesh.

Love comes in miracles every day, like weakening the strong, challenging the weak, making fools of the wise, and wise ones of fools, favouring passions and obsessions, destroying reason, and in other words Love is turning tables every day.....

My sarcastic mirror of your own rudeness. Provoked to go love yourself. It is my gift to you Milly. A taste of your own medicine.

Wholeheartedly,

Caroline

What’s The point⚫️

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