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shojizbae · 10 months ago

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Yeehaw!

Spencer Reid x reader

Warnings: This is spicy! Use of alcohol, behind drunk/drunk sex, Oral fem! receiving, cowgirl position

Everyone could tell with just one look at you that you were Southern. That being said, anytime there was a case in the South, everyone knew to take a step back and let you lead. This time, there was a string of murders in Aiken, South Carolina, and the team knew that you were all over it.

"Weren't you from a Carolina?" Derek chuckles as we board the jet.

"Yeah, I spent most of my time on Camp Lejeune with my daddy, then I went south for college in Charleston."

"So that means Hotch has been demoted for this." Emily snickers

"No, I just know the South, and I'll get a little gun-happy when I'm back home. It wouldn't be no different had we gone to Chicago, Derek."

"Wow, mama's go home heat today." We settle on the jet, and Hotch and Rossi debrief us. I take a nap as we head south, and unfortunately, the power of the state takes me over. I march up to the sheriff and flash my credentials.

"So, how's it happen?" The sheriff speaks in an accent so thick it makes grits look like juice. I glance at the team, and they seem to sigh in relief when they realize I can understand him. Tirelessly, we worked the case for 73 hours. We met at a fresh crime scene every morning. The unsub seemed to be in a frenzy. He was dangerous and mixed with a high concentration of amphetamine addiction in this area. It was likely he had no clue he was killing.

But, due to the trace amounts of meth, we knew that he was unstable and would trip up eventually. We got some sleep after the fourth body, and there was a trip up in the morning. A fifth, but he had left some of his powdered sugar at the crime scene.

I put a glove on and lifted the little baggie, showing it off to Reid.

"Hey, Spencer, check this out."

"Hey, I've been clean for years," He mopes

"Aw, I'm sorry, sugar," A detective approaches me with an evidence bag. "Here, swab it and run this through CODIS." Spencer and I kept sweeping the crime scene for any molecule of evidence. Nothing all that exciting. The killer left the knife in her this time. Indicative of the fact that they were out of control. I squat next to the body and ghost my fingers over the entrance wound.

"Hey Spencer," He perks up like a gopher, "If you were going to kill someone and you were going to stab them to death, how'd you do it?"

"Are you sure that's an appropriate question?"

"I'm just curious."

"I'd probably use something with a curved blade. It would do the most damage and be the hardest to remove." His eyes go kind of dead, as he explains. An awkward air hangs between the two of us as we survey the wound.

"Damn, Spence, that's messed up."

"You asked." He sasses

Not later that evening, a woman called to suspect a strange man was in her house. We move in immediately and find a man pacing in circles in the bathroom. He's violent and angry, and his nose is bleeding. He tried to swing a knife at Morgan, but I grabbed him by the wrist and slammed his head into the wall. I use my hips to push him forward and cuff him while Emily helps the woman safely out of her house.

I march him to the car while he screams that I'm a bastard whore. Finally, I shoved him into the police car and muttered a good riddance. I even patted my hands like a baker getting flour off.

"I need a drink." I put my hands on my hips

"I could use something to cool off, too. This southern heat can be beat." Derek wipes his brow

"Hotch you think we have the leeway to spend the night here?" Emily asks

"That's all up to JJ, anything pressing enough that we need to get back to Quantico?"

"Well, nothing too scary that we couldn't cut loose after working for six days straight." She smiles at the team

Hours later, we showered, ate a full meal at a steakhouse, and put on the nicest clothes in our go-bags. The team was shocked to discover I had a cowboy hat in my bag. We moseyed our way to the bar, a small dive bar with a pool table. A mechanical bull is in the center of the room, and my eyes light up at the memories. Rossie buys us a pitcher of beer, and we all unwind from the stressful week.

As we knock 'em back slowly and let college stories fly, the team starts to forget what we had seen. Rossi tells us some funny stories about going to college during the summer of love, and Reid accidentally brags about going to Cal Tech.

"Well, what about you? Didn't you go to school nearby?" Emily says as she refills her glass.

"Uh yeah, in Charleston, South Carolina." I clarify

"So you must have spent most of your nights like this." Derek motions around the bar, playing honky-tonk music. Pool balls clack around us, and there's a thin layer of dirt around the edge of the bar.

"Well, most nights I spent in my dorm or the library. Every other Saturday, my roommate and neighbors would go to a dive named Fat Daddy's. We would make bets with the alcoholic dads about being able to ride the bull, and if we stayed on longer than they said so, they'd buy us all a drink. I didn't pay for my own liquor for three semesters." The team stood in shock. Hotch's jaw was agape and Rossi just nodded his chin in acknowledgement.

"Well, now, baby girl, I have to see you in action." Derek almost commands

"No, I ain't dressed right. And ain't nobody betted me."

"I bet you won't last seven seconds on the mechanical bull," Spencer interjects "If you do, I'll buy you that coconut margarita that you've been eyeing."

"Alrght, there's my bet." I march up to the bartender "I'm'onna ride that bull." I point at it and he looks me hat to boot.

"Alright," The bartender seems disinterested. He hits a button, and lights around the bull flash like a carnival. I draw the attention of the whole bar as a pre-recorded announcer calls me a brave challenger.

Big men with fat beer bellies gather around, and I readjust my top. If I play my cards right, I might get more than a coconut margarita out of this. I'm not wearing anything too special—just one of my combat scoop-neck tees and low-rise daisy dukes. The bartender offers his hand, and I use it to mount the big plastic bull.

"You ready, little girl?" He asks

"Yes sir." I grip onto the handle at the 'bull's nape and a bell rings. Slowly the bull starts lurching forward and back while exciting music bounces around the bar.

one Mississippi

The bull speeds up

'ride it, cowgirl!" Derek yells from the edge of the bull enclosure

two Mississippi

It starts going sideways

three Mississippi

I fake with my appearance that I'm struggling and readjust my grip

four Mississippi

I use my hips to grind with the rhythm of the bull as men whoop and cheer

five Mississippi, six Mississippi

My heart starts to thump against my ribs

Seven Mississippi, I win.

The team cheers for me. I keep going, getting bold enough to grind more dramatically. I hear more whoops and hollers as I lift my arms and squee. Someone yells, and another man whistles. I hold onto my hat as the bull speeds up, and I feel my shirt lift.

'Yeehaw!' I hear, and the bar just erupts. I feel so full of life, and I jump up on the bull, riding it like a surfboard. I drop down and sit backward on the bull. I twist around and ride the bull until the bartender slows it down.

"You done broke our record. 39 seconds on the highest speed." The bar screams in glee, and the team closes in on me, handing out high fives. Reid hangs behind the group, and I see him ask Derek a question

"Did you know that (Y/n) has a stomach tattoo?"

"Wow (Y/n), that was incredible." Emily looks starstruck

"I told you I didn't pay for a drink for 18 months." I give JJ a hug, and Reid emerges from the crowd

"I guess I owe you a drink." He smiles, and I fidget with the hem of my shirt

"One coconut margarita, please, sir." He leads me to the bar, where the bartender makes one for me. I hold the glass up to his face, and Reid takes the first sip.

"No, that's fine," He pushes the glass from his cheek

"C'mon, you paid for it."

"Listen, you know that coercion isn't a great thing to do. Most serial killers are more coercive than a skeezy lawyer."

"Aw, you're using my metaphors." I coo and step closer to his chest

"When did you become so flirty?" he braces me on the hip

"All that shaking around must have got the beer movin' in me." I giggle and sip on my glass. "I saw you askin' Derek 'bout my tattoo. y' wanna see it?" I start to roll up my shirt

"No, no, that's fine," He holds my wrist to stop me. "Why don't we get you some water."

"No, this is yummy." I smile and down the cup. He grimaces at the action and tries to walk me over to our table

"Hey, Spencer, you wanna know why I'm so good at riding that thing?" I halt to play with the button of his shirt, and he stops, too.

"Uh sure," He swallows

"Ever the curious doctor," I slur. I'm good with the bull because I love riding," I whisper drunkenly in his ear. He swallows hard and tries to shimmy us back to our table. His hands shake as he grips my tricep.

"Why're you so nervous?" I ask the side of his jaw. My voice swings up an octave, but I snort as I survey the team.

"The liquor got to her quick. I'm gonna get her back to the hotel."

"Oooh, why don't you take me someplace fancy," I tease

"Well, make sure you use protection." Derek snorts as he lifts a brown bottle to his lips

"Aw, you ain't gotta worry. I've got an IUD." Spencer soothes my sentence with a pat on my shoulder, and I slide a hand down his back

"That won't be a problem. I'm just going to ensure she has water, Advil, and comfortable clothes." He jumps away as I make an attempt to grab his butt.

"You sure you don't want either of us to take her?" JJ offers and points between Emily and herself. I rest my head on his chest. I can feel his heart pounding against my temple.

"You gonna take good care of me, Doctor?" I smile up at his concerned face

"I'm not that kind of doctor." He scolds. He helps seatbelt me into one of two FBI SUVs. Slowly and carefully, he drives me to the highway motel we were placed in, and he marches me into my room.

"Alright, are you sober enough to shower?" He sits me on the bed, and the mattress shrieks beneath me

"Yeah, so long as you help me get my shirt off."

"No, I won't be doing that," He finds a glass and fills it with water. He digs in my go-bag and finds the bottle of Advil. He drops two in his hand and gives them to me as well as the cup. "Drink this," he tucks some hair behind his ears.

"My feet hurt," I whine and put the pills in my mouth.

"Well, you're wearing those ridiculous boots," He stressfully tucks some hair behind his ears

"They ain't ridiculous." Stick out a foot and twist it to see the whole design, "Maybe a little flashy." I tuck my foot in and look up at him. "Will you calm down if you held me out of these sugar?"

"Yeah, sure." He kneels down and tugs each of my boots off, and lines them up with the rest of my shoes.

"Aww, you're so caring. C'mere sugar." Reluctantly, he finds me on the mattress, and I pat it next to me. He's hesitant, but he sits, and I lean against him. "Hey, Spencer?"

"Yes, (Y/n)?"

"You wanna ask about my tattoo?"

"No,"

"Really, because you keep glancing down at my stomach. I may be a drunk one, but I am a profiler. What about it? Gets you going so much?"

"What?" He scoffs in shock "It doesn't 'get me going'." I hold onto his arm

"Really? Because I'm pushin' my tits against you, and you're still lookin' at my stomach."

"I uh I'm not." He's distracted enough that I can swing my legs across his lap "(Y/n), this is really inappropriate conduct for coworkers."

"I ain't on the clock," I slowly drag my shirt up to reveal the design. Two big blossoms of overlapping lavender and olive flowers. Any protests he tries to make are halted as he studies the image.

"These ones, "I guide his apprehensive hand as hi pointer finger traces my stomach "Are olive blossoms, they stand for peace. and these are lavenders."

"They mean feminity and grace." He clears his throat

"I've got more," I whisper playfully

"C-can I see them?" He swallows. I cross my arms at the hem of my shirt and pull it off, lifting the hem of my bralette.

"There's some text under my boobs."

"te amo para siempre." He reads without an accent, so it sounds stilted. "Did you get that for a boyfriend?"

"No, it's something my grandpa used to tell me." he runs his thumb over the cursive, "And on my collarbones." I guide his wrist to my right clavicle.

"'An eye for an eye,' I guided him across my chest, and he traced like he was reading braille.' leaves the whole world blind.' He connected his eyes with mine. His pupils were real big.

"Aw gee, I just realized I'm a little underdressed."

"Of course," he shifts around to encourage me to get off

"Uh uh, it could be you're just overdressed," I hold onto the knot in his tie

"No (Y/n),"

"You know, darling, your mouth is saying no, but your body is saying yes." I slide my hips forward and feel him suppress a shudder. I direct his head to look at me with blown-wide puppy dog eyes. "Maybe we should tell your mouth to let your body take over." I sink my lips against him, and he melts into me. Our lips smack as he pulls away

"(y/n), no, this isn't professional," he tries to disable my arms as I slide his tie knot apart

"Well, that's good. If I were professional, you get a hotel in a local jail for soliciting a prostitute." I get the knot loose and free his neck, making headway on the buttons. He shiftsbutI kiss his complaints away. Soon, sounds of complaint turn to moans as he succumbs to his body.

"Hey, Spencer," I pull away briefly and chew on my lip at the view. His hair is fluffed, and the top half of his shirt is flipped open. "I've got one more tattoo, and I think you'd really like it."

"I would?" he pushes his hair back "Why." I give him a peck as I reach for the button on my shorts. He grabs my hand and undoes the button himself. I guide his hand to the zipper, and he tugs it down. Instead of shimmying out of the shorts, I hook his finger in the elastic of my underwear. He pulls it down just enough to read the black text that slowly faded to show green.

"C6H12O6?"

"Yeah, you remember what that means?"

"It's the chemical formula for sugar." He snaps the underwear back into place, and I jump at the sensation, "Why?"

"Because I'm so sweet." I dive back in and kiss him. Heated aggressively like he's got the last cup of water on his tongue. He reaches into my hair to steady me, and with his second hand, he grabs my hip. I continue to unbutton his shirt until he shores it off into the distance.

"Well, look how handsome you are," I watch him blush, but I run my hands up his chest and over his collarbones. He blushes but guides my hand to his belt buckle. I love the sound a belt buckle makes. Before I can get his pants off him, Spencer surprises me. He picks us up and twists us, so my back slaps against the squeaky mattress.

He slithers down my body, kissing down the various tattoos. Gently, he slides his fingers into the waistband of my jeans. He slides them down and separates each of my knees. Almost entranced he licks up the gray cotton panties I wore.

"Spencer!' I moan in shock

"Please, this is my favorite part." He pulls the underwear off and tosses it to the side. I don't protest any further. It's rare to find a guy willing to go down on me, much less one that initiates. He wraps his arms around my thighs and places my knees at his shoulders. He wastes no time diving in.

With every man I've slept with, I've never felt someone go down on me with such fervor and skill. I'm taken down. He clings onto my clit with desperation. He drops my right leg so that he can trace gentle circles around my pussy.

"Spenc- Uh"

"Sh-sh -shh, just relax." He soothes me and rubs my inner thigh. I try to look down at him, but as he continues his ministrations, I lose my strength and flop my head back. Slowly, he sinks his pointer finger in, and I take a sharp inhale.

"Spe-EUUh!" His skill is shocking as he slowly moves his finger in and out. Once I was acclimated, he pulled out and put both his pointer and middle in. I do my best to suppress it for the comfort of the surrounding guests.

"Don't hide from me." He comes up and looks my face over

"There's other people around, Spencer."

"Then let them hear." He places a kiss on my forehead and sinks down to continue devouring me. I don't hold back as much as I'm embarrassed. He starts a 'come hither' motion and I roll my hips up into his face. He braces a hand on my hip.

"Sit still." He commands

Steadily, I felt a climax rising in me. I felt the muscles in my stomach clenching and tensing. I feel like yellow waves of pleasure ripple through my body.

"SPE—Spencerr, I'm gonna!" I desperately reached around and threaded my fingers into his hair. With my other hand, I felt around for the disheveled comforter. I balled my hands into a fist around what I held: his hair and the blanket. I climaxed faster than I had expected. Accidentally, I locked Spencer in with my legs. Desperate to keep the pleasure close to me.

It took me a moment to catch my breath. When I came to, I released my legs, and he resurfaced, wiping his mouth as he checked on me.

"How are you doing? Was that any good?"

"Good?" I gaped, and I saw him crumble a little in insecurity. Spencer, that was the best head I've ever had." He chuckled boyishly as I held his pants so he lay on top of me.

"Spencer?" I ask slowly

"Yeah," He kisses me on the side of the mouth

"I'm gonna fuck you now,"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," I sit him up and unzip his pants and pull them down. His legs are ridiculously long, and it feels like an eternity to get him naked. I geek at his boxers. His cock is jumping against the fabric, and there is a small precum stain. I rub over the fabric, and he keens into my touch.

"Aww, so you're all talk," I tease

"S-shut up, you were just writhing under me." He leans back on his arms. The veins in his forearms are bulging, and I can see his stomach shift as he shifts under my pawing.

"Yeah, and now you will be."

I slide my fingers under the elastic, and he lifts his hips to help me free him. Gently, I stroke him, and he gulps back and moans. I mount him, letting Spencer guide himself into me. I sigh as I feel him slide in, and his hands gravitate to my hips.

"Woah," he grunts. It's probably the strangest reaction I've gotten, but I appreciate being such a stunner.

"How are you doing, Reid?"

"I-I'm sublime. How are you?" I shift my hips in contemplation, feeling my eyes pool in the back of my head.

"Oh, I'm doing-g just-" My sentence cuts itself off as the head of his dick kisses a sweet spot inside me. "Can you just give me a little boost?" He holds each of my hips and drags me across my lap.

"Oh fuck," I sigh, and I pick my hips up. We fall into a sensual rhythm as the world disappears around us. "Spencer, that feels so..." My forehead collapses against his collarbone. There's something about his dick that itches a scratch I didn't know I was feeling. Similarly, he mews below me.

"(Y/n)," he groans out below me "Don't stop." and I don't. Instead, I pick up the pace. I brace myself on his shoulders and slam my hips back and forth until my thighs burn. And when the sensation becomes overwhelming I keep fighting.

"Oh my- uh," He groans beneath me "(Y/n), (Y/n), I'm gonna cum." He sounds desperate. "(Y/n) you have to get off." He whimpers

"No, I'm gonna cum too. I won't-" I keep my hips galloping against his thighs, "PLEase- fuck, I'm gonna." I feel his cock twitch inside me, and warmth spreads through my thighs.

"Uh, nice and deep." I halt myself for a second," Spencer I gotta keep going."

"M'kay." I ride with such speed that I'm scared the legs on the bed will snap. Finally, I feel the point of no return—like watching a slow vase fall over, knowing you're too far away to stop it. I came. My knees buckled, and I fell chest-first onto Reid.

"Are you okay?" He holds my back steady and gently rubs my spine, and I catch my breath.

"Yeah, I'm okay." I sit myself up, and Spencer tucks some frizzy hair behind my ear. "Probably some of the sex I've had in... ever." His face lights up. I use his shoulder to stand up, and I feel it slide down my thigh.

"I'm gonna need a shower, but there's always room for two." I smile and trot off to the ensuite. It's not long before Spencer is chasing me behind the vinyl curtain to wet his hair and press a kiss to the back of my shoulder.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #the south #mechanical bullride #smut

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bwat5-blog · 2 months ago

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Caitlyn Kiramman's Strength

**Spoiler warning for all of arcane**

��You will never rest knowing that she’s out there. Or maybe I underestimated you. Maybe you have the strength I do not. To forgive, and trust in tomorrow”- Ambessa

Caitlyn's commander arc has been a HEAVY topic of debate. I have written plenty as have many others. I am writing this after reading a wonderful exchange between some other users who added even more to my understanding of this story.

For my purposes today, I am thinking about Caitlyn's strength. The question of true strength is one pursued in many ways throughout this story. Vi learning she deserves to be loved for more than the strength of her arm, Huck explaining to Caitlyn that he became addicted to shimmer because he just wanted for someone else to be afraid for once. So what of Caitlyn? Her strength to achieve, is the strength to forgive.

There are many kinds of strength. Caitlyn is agile, and a great fighter. Her mind is sharp and creative. Even as a rookie enforcer she has the force of will to follow a mysterious tattooed Zaunite into the undercity, never knowing how her life would change. What she would lose, and what she would gain.

People have made many ham-handed attempts at demonizing Caitlyn's character arc in season 2. Their failure to grasp the ways in which grief can warp us is their cross to bear. In Caitlyn's story, we watch as a kind, clever, idealistic and brave young woman is terrorized and almost murdered by wanted terrorist, only to watch helplessly as her mother falls to the same killer. Because remember my friends it's easy for us to look at Jinx's actions and try for understanding. We were there when Powder was a scared little girl holding her sisters hand on that bridge. Caitlyn wasn't. And in a span of mere days, all for the crime of believing she could make a difference, her reality is violently transformed in front of her.

This show gives us many depictions of the illusion of strength. My mind goes to the breaking of Powder and creation of JInx, in which Silco lauds the strength she has achieved by "letting Powder die". When the truth is that no matter how strong her body has become, her mind has only grown more fractured.

Caitlyn's takes control of her house. She demands her seat at the council, and forms a strike team to go into Zaun all of her own accord where they actively engage in combat against the Chem Barons. Strength? On the surface yes. But the unfortunately reality is that she is not an agent of law and order, bringing peace and safety to troubled streets. She is on a crusade. And with every step she takes down that road, she destroys more and more of what really matters to her, until even the woman she loves lays heartbroken and alone. All culminating in her glorious rise to Commander. Strength..

It is during this bleak time in Caitlyn's story, that she and Ambessa have a conversation. Caitlyn is questioning the Noxian's brutal tactics, and if the ongoing occupation of Zaun is really worth it anymore. Ambessa says the quote at the top to remind her of her rage.. and of her fear.

“You will never rest knowing that she’s out there. Or maybe I underestimated you. Maybe you have the strength I do not. To forgive, and trust in tomorrow”

And it works! For the time being. Because what neither of them could have known is Caitlyn was soon to be reunited with the woman who reminded her of inner strength. The woman who believed in her, who supported her, who sacrificed for her. Who at the moment of their reuniting, even with that emotional chasm between them and all of Caitlyn's wrongs known, trusts Caitlyn to save her father.

Trust... that single word from someone so important to her and Caitlyn begins to find herself again. Ambessa taught her to kill, to trick, to oppress and debilitate. Caitlyn's physical body growing stronger and more dangerous while her soul was buried deeper and deeper beneath the waves. But it was not until Vi was still willing to believe in her, to give her a second chance, that she truly began to breathe again.

It is in this time, that Caitlyn's true strength emerges. When face to face with the woman she knows captured her heart, and who calls her to account, the question of who deserves who gets a second chance is left in the air. What Jinx took from Caitlyn cannot be undone. And Vi is not asking her to love Jinx, or to love what she did. She is asking her to let go of the hatred, and the fear, and the pain. To live not just for Jinx's benefit but for Caitlyn herself as well. To carry the same strength in her heart that Vi demonstrated by telling her about Vander. And in so doing, for the sake of herself, and the woman she loves, Caitlyn sets aside that rage, and opens the way for them all to start healing.

Our story ends with Vi, and Caitlyn enjoying a quiet moment together. Violet's journey was never about physical strength, but about the strength to admit she deserves to feel loved, and protected, and safe. To know that she is worth more to her partner than the strength of her arm. Caitlyn was almost swallowed by her darkness, never having been more alone than when she was one of the most powerful people in the city. Now here, at the end of things, it is because she found the strength to forgive the person who wronged her, and in aspiring to be the person Vi deserves has begun to forgive herself, that she finds peace.

#arcane season 2 spoilers #arcane season 1 #caitlyn kiramman #caitvi #arcane

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pluckyredhead · 28 days ago

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for the snippet commentary ask:

[But there were some weeks that Roy moved a little slower, talked a little softer. Weeks that he poked at the food on his plate, listless and uninterested. Jason knew those were the times that the past reared up inside of Roy and awakened cravings that no food could satisfy.

It wasn’t physiological, Jason knew. He’d done plenty of research on addiction: first as a grieving child searching for ways he could have saved his mother, if only he’d known how, and then again when he and Roy had started living out of each other’s pockets. It wasn’t the ghost of heroin a decade past curbing Roy’s appetite. It was just depression, as if that “just” made it any less pernicious.

Jason frowned into the open pantry. Roy had barely eaten anything yesterday. “Nothing tastes good right now,” he’d said with a shrug when Jason had pressed.

Jason took out flour, baking powder, and salt, and got to work.

Maybe it was the smell that finally coaxed Roy out of his room, or maybe it was just good timing, but he emerged right as Jason was turning the first piece over to cook on the other side.

“Is that fry bread?” Roy asked, sounding bewildered.

“Sit down,” Jason said. Roy obeyed, watching him in silence as the oil sizzled in the pan.

When the bread was golden on both sides, Jason laid it out on paper towels to drain and sprinkled it generously with cinnamon sugar. He carefully put a second piece in the oil before bringing the plate over to Roy.

“I can’t believe you made fry bread,” Roy said, a little line between his brows. “I haven’t had this since I was a kid.”

Jason knew that. Roy had reminisced enough times about burning his fingers on fry bread right out of the pan that Jason could picture it: little Roy, big-eared and sunburned, fingers and cheeks sticky with cinnamon sugar or honey as he angled for another piece.

But all he said was “You gonna eat it or what?”]

IT SAID 500 WORDS OR LESS & I EXPLOITED THAT I KNOWWWWW i just love this entire part soooo much tho

Lol taxing the ask character count to the UTMOST, I respect it!

But there were some weeks that Roy moved a little slower, talked a little softer. Weeks that he poked at the food on his plate, listless and uninterested. Jason knew those were the times that the past reared up inside of Roy and awakened cravings that no food could satisfy.

My inspiration for Roy's depression comes mostly from this heartbreaking page in Outsiders #45 (2003 series):

(The other major source is, of course, his attempt at suicide by Killer Croc in RHATO.)

Roy is an extrovert who is very very good at masking, so the fact that he's even letting Jason see the depression - something he doesn't do for anyone else but Dinah and arguably Dick, although that was more PTSD than depression - is significant all on its own. He can let his guard down with Jason.

Jason, meanwhile, is going to quietly do research on addiction and recovery and never actually say anything out loud to Roy. (Fun fact: Ollie did this in canon. What's that thing about how we gravitate to partners who are similar to our parents?)

They were in one of Jason’s safe houses in Gotham, and the black cloud had been hanging over Roy’s head for days. Now it was nearly two p.m., and Roy was still in bed. Neither of them were early risers, given the late night demands of the vigilante lifestyle, but this was late even for them. Jason frowned into the open pantry. Roy had barely eaten anything yesterday. “Nothing tastes good right now,” he’d said with a shrug when Jason had pressed.

Some of this may also be related to my own experiences with depression, as someone who usually loves food.

Jason took out flour, baking powder, and salt, and got to work. Maybe it was the smell that finally coaxed Roy out of his room, or maybe it was just good timing, but he emerged right as Jason was turning the first piece over to cook on the other side. “Is that fry bread?” Roy asked, sounding bewildered. “Sit down,” Jason said. Roy obeyed, watching him in silence as the oil sizzled in the pan. When the bread was golden on both sides, Jason laid it out on paper towels to drain and sprinkled it generously with cinnamon sugar. He carefully put a second piece in the oil before bringing the plate over to Roy.

I've never actually had fry bread so I read a bunch of recipes and watched some YouTube tutorials, trying to find recipes from Navajo cooks especially. Now I really want it but I'm intimidated by deep frying.

I always write Roy with a sweet tooth, hence Jason going for a cinnamon sugar finish instead of savory. Also, I love writing Roy catching Jason doing An Affection and Jason retreating behind grumpily barking orders. NO ONE CAN KNOW THAT HE LOVES ROY. ESPECIALLY NOT ROY.

“I can’t believe you made fry bread,” Roy said, a little line between his brows. “I haven’t had this since I was a kid.”

Roy does NOT know how to respond to being taken care of. I love his relationship with Ollie but I always headcanon it as being pretty much a partnership of equals even when Roy was 10, i.e. they were equally immature. Ollie was his best friend but he was not cooking Roy's favorite foods.

GREAT JOB, MAN OF MYSTERY, YOU HID YOUR FEELINGS IMPECCABLY.

#jason todd #red hood #roy harper #arsenal #i write things

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siriusblackdevotee · 1 month ago

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something about the way fandoms blame Sirius for "abandoning" Regulus (he ran away from an abusive household) and Violet for "abandoning" Powder (literally never happened)🤨

or criticizing Sirius for not choosing Regulus (he's a death eater) and Violet for not choosing Jinx (the other option was killing Caitlyn) 🤨

or expecting Sirius (locked in Azkaban with dementors for 12 years) and Violet (beat up by prison guards since she was 16 for 7ish years)to be perfect, stable and make good decisions 🤨

well this isn't related but Sirius spent all his years in Azkaban thinking abt James and to avenge them and Vi called out for Powder so often, the guards thought she was a drug addict and the first thing they did after escaping/being freed is to find James's killer/Powder and their loyalty just makes me sob violently 😭

#oldest sibling syndrome #THEY WILL NEVER MAKE ME HATE YOU #sirius black #regulus black #james potter #platonic prongsfoot #violet arcane #powder #jinx arcane #arcane #arcane league of legends #vi and jinx #vi and powder

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lostinhisworld · 1 year ago

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find me - RAFE CAMERON

warnings: angst!!!! so much angst. addiction. allusion to death/killing? sad rafe. sad reader. she/her pronouns. breakup. messy writing. unedited. potential for a part 2 with a happy ending? lmk if i missed anything. another draft. drabble

word count: 384

hope you enjoy x

sorry about my lack of posting and request replies. i’ve been feeling really unmotivated and have just gone back to work. i promise i’ll try to get out some new fics/requests soon

the signs had been there all along— pale skin, matching the scattered white powder, thunder storms hiding behind his once bright eyes, sunken skin and shortened temper.

she had tried to ignore them at first, hoping a blind eye would force them away but it only made things worse.

images of him bent over a table, a single finger pressing his left nostril closed as he inhaled his killer, haunted her.

she saw them each time she closed her eyes or stared at her own reflection too long. and again when she tried to admire her boyfriend.

he’d never purposefully hurt her, not even with the drug infecting his body. but she couldn't stand to watch him kill himself any longer.

despite all the love she felt for him, and the love she knew he held for her, she had to leave, if not for herself than for the hope that this would be the boy's motivation to save himself before it were too late.

"i can't love you if you refuse to love yourself." she cried, hands gripping the dock’s railing as she tried to gather strength. she kept her back to him, not yet ready to see the consequences of their actions.

his sobs reverberated off the calm waters, echoing through the otherwise still area. “i don't need to love myself," he pleaded, hands itching to touch the girl— to know if she were real or just another symptom of his disease. “i love you enough that i don't need to."

"you love me enough that i don't need to." he whispered.

the words were spoken as a statement, and any by stander would take them as such. but she knew better than that.

he was asking— begging, for reassurance. something to prove his worst fears wrong.

but she could no longer do that, because while he still believed her to be his guider, she knew she'd already failed. “no, Rafe.” she stated simply, finally turning to look into his eyes.

for the first time in months they weren't red from his addiction, but, instead, from the salty liquid burning his eyes.

his lips, the ones she once couldn't stop staring at, were chapped and bleeding from his teeth nervously scrapping them.

the hands that had treated her body with nothing but kindness and worship, gently caressing her skin, now fidgeted by his sides, straining his joints as he stretched his fingers and clenched his knuckles, repeating over and over like a pre-rehearsed dance.

stepping closer to the body she used to call home, the girl couldn't help her smile as she recalled their before moments. "i’ll always love you, that much we both know,” she started, small hand reaching to brush the hair from his face. “but my love cannot replace your own."

pressing her lips to the boy's cheek, she said her final farewell, "you need to find yourself and you can't do that with me standing in the way."

stepping back, she looked out at the water surrounding them before returning her sight to him. "so find yourself, Rafe. and then, if you can still feel me in your heart, find me.”

#netflix #outer banks #obx #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe fic #outerbanks rafe #angst #rafe angst #breakup #rafe x female!reader #rafe x ex!reader #drabble #short fiction

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augustameretrix · 2 months ago

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arcane abstinence so acute i stumbled into The Council Archives, a little point-and-click style game released in the league client in november 2021 where you you get to sift through some form of in-universe files relating in some respects to jayce, vi, caitlyn and jinx

btw the promotional video for jayce's collection is also where the 'i discovered discovered sextech' template comes from I think which is great news to me personally because god knows how much i like that stupid meme

anyways, they're an interesting short read, the epistolary form is always great for immersion and there's some interesting stuff going on.

both jayce's and jinx's collections consist primarily of their own writings, his work journal and her diary respectively. as for jayce, there's some details on the practical workings of hextech, followed by his disdain for the other piltie inventors - a bunch of glorified toymakers, almost, according to him - vs his self-confidence that his invention is Good and Noble. then there's a cute little section dedicated to his partnership with viktor and you can tell just how much that rocks his professional and personal world

jinx's diary is the least revealing: it's super short and almost everything she says is either repeated or can be easily inferred by watching arcane. it makes sense as these are just her personal thoughts in written form, plain and simple. but there's some painfully concise musings about herself and vi that didn't make it in the show quite in the same form. it retrodates her suicidal ideation by a lot. plus we get a little drawing of small ekko

now, cait's and especially vi's collections get into aspects the show didn't go into in depth, as in both cases we're dealing with official enforcers/wardens documentation

vi's for me is the absolute standout out of these collections. her files consist of the various internal reports of her misbehaviour in stillwater throughout the years, which document a devastating picture of her progressive decline under the watchful yet utterly uncaring, if not a bit unnerved, eyes of the wardens. there's a whole (small) character arc in there that arcane only hints at.

we learn that she goes from trying to escape, to beating information about powder out of newly arrived detainees, and finally to seemingly resign herself to a cycle of increasingly dangerous violence with other zaunite prisoners: provoke people, foil murder attempts, retaliate, rinse and repeat. any fight against the wardens she might've had in the past now she takes out on fellow inmates, recognizing the futility in trying to punch up. her reputation with the prisoners is so bad the wardens imply she sometimes relies on the guards interrogating her for some human contact - by making fun of them (one of the very first interactions between vi and cait is vi cracking a joke)

another killer thread in the collection is the guards systematically misunderstand vi's search for powder, which they interpret as drug addiction. at some point vi stops uttering her sister's name altogether, and the guard's report simply notes: "addiction to substance is cured". ain't that something

the formal and dehumanizing linguistic style of the prison wardens does wonders for this little character arc. the last file, a dismissal of a transfer request, contains a play on the words "foster" and "fester", which is just *chef's kiss*

finally, cait's collection is made up of the murder/missing person reports and autopsies she pilfered from the police station as a junior officer to conduct her private investigation on grayson's murder and on zaun's shimmer ring, as well as to whom among the enforcers is covering it up + interviews with suspects, most of which she conducted herself + one disciplinary action against her from marcus. as is usually the case for cait, we don't get a lot of direct personal info, instead we see her methodically connecting the dots while ignoring direct orders from her superior, and going deeper, deeper, and always forward. a nice little touch is the trial-and-error nature of her system: every time she gets a lead she needs to confirm or deny it, and sometimes that means suspects will laugh in her face because she submits to them an assumption that might very well be wrong. this in - apparent - contrast with her marksman (markswoman?) status. but as always, she remains unphased and keeps marching on... and ends up closing in on the target anyways.

then of course from her files you can gaze at the typically league-esque depiction of a zaun ravaged by the chem-barons' cynical endeavors, in particular by silco's (and singed's) shimmer-bloated brutes roaming the streets, or his kidnapping children for experimentation.

also of note and somewhat confusing, among caitlyn's objects in her collection there's a photograph of vi laughing (!) taken.... i'm not sure when, actually? the game mentions her "self-inked tattoos" (how, btw?), so it has to be after her arrest, but since it's unlikely vi had anything to smile about in stillwater, not to mention the description (which does NOT match the illustration btw) which reads "former inmate #516", so it must've been taken after she got out... which is weird, because the rest of cait's collection refers to events taking place up until she leaves for stillwater near the end of episode 4 aka before she gets vi released. but the photograph is described as "pinned" (to the board...? the board is treated as another object entirely), and visually depicted as one of the files in a folder, so it's a piece of evidence which would imply cait already had it. damningly, there is a camera on cait's desk, which could mean nothing, considering she likely uses it to collect clues from crime scenes. but then....

...to make things even weirder the tone in which the game goes on to describe the photo is so cheesy... dare I say romantic in a trite way. get this:

"[...] an image captured from reality, a moment frozen in time with this Zaunite urchin. In all you've researched, there was no indication that the criminal was even capable of smiling. But in this picture… she's laughing."

what is happening here?? did cait take this picture after vi's release? when? is this one of those not-so-subtle hints at cait and vi's relatonship riot likes to sprinkle in league and in the lore site? it would match the style and would explain the discrepancy between text and image, but it's so out of place and time here. oh well!

#who the hell is this post for? well for me and me only i guess. like WHO cares about this #jk vi and caits files are actually interesting. especially vis as i said go read that one #arcane #arcane meta #league of legends #the council archives #vi #caitlyn kiramman #not tagging the other two because i dont have a lot to say about them

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ninyard · 8 months ago

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For the Fandom Ask game:

22. Give us a headcanon for Seth? (Yes I'm a little bit predictable...)

I hope you are asleep now Nin and you see this in like four hours earliest! <3

So I know all of my Seth headcanons always end up being about his death but

I always wonder if he knew he was dying. If he knew Allison was waiting for him to come back. And how quick was it? This isn't really a headcanon but more of a musing and I swear eventually I'll have no choice but to talk about something else when it comes to Seth. For now. RIP King. tw overdose SORRYYYYY

As someone who had overdosed before, I wonder if he knew the feeling? Knew the feeling that he'd had too much, knew there was nothing he could do to stop it?

But one thing that always gets me kind of heartbroken is if he watched it happen and knew there was nothing he could do about it. My hypothesis of his death was that he was spiked by a needle in the bathroom of the bar they were at, and it was quick because of the amount of whatever it was that they'd given him. So picture this:

Seth is in the toilets of the bar. It's busy, there's loud music outside, but the toilets are relatively quiet. It's just him standing at the urinals, he's kind of drunk already. Allison is getting their next round of drinks at the bar. Somebody comes out of one of the stalls and offers him a bump of some sort of powder and he looks at it for a second too long but refuses. He's clean. He's not going to do it. He promised Allison that he wouldn't. That person leaves, unbothered. More for them.

And the door opens. The music gets louder for a second, and then its muted again, and he glances over his shoulder to see somebody coming up behind him.

There's a prick in his arm, or his back, or his leg, and he feels it. He feels it, and his heart drops into his shoes at that feeling, at the strangers hands disappearing back into their pockets. But there's no way he actually saw that, right? Why would somebody he's never met before... No.

So he fixes himself, and he joins the stranger at the sinks, and he starts to wash his hands, and then he looks at himself. Something feels wrong.

"Are you good, man?" The stranger asks him, and he looks at him, but something is wrong, and the stranger is smiling, and his hand plants onto his shoulder, and then Seth feels it again. A prick. The feeling of a needle right into his neck this time. And this time he sees it. A little thin syringe, empty, a cap replaced on top of it now. Then the stranger is gone.

And he's on the floor of one of the stalls, and he's trying to get it out of his system, but he knows there's nothing he can do. It's too much, it's too quick, it's too intense. He tries to take out his phone but it's gone, he thinks he can see it on the floor, but his head is hurting, and he's trying to call out for Allison, or anyone, anyone at all. Nobody is coming. Nobody is coming.

Do you think Seth knew that he was dying? That he looked that stranger in the eyes, and knew they'd done this, and they knew it would kill him? Do you think he knew that nobody would believe he hadn't done it himself?

My disgusting heartbreaking headcanon for Seth was that he knew somebody else had done it, but he'd looked them in the eyes. Seth had looked his killer in the eyes, he knew he was dying, he knew there was nothing he could do. He died alone. Seth died knowing nobody would believe it when they found his body, like the boy who cried wolf, they'd hear about it and they'd say typical. Not surprised. It was only a matter of time. Seth died alone, feeling like a disappointment, knowing that he was going to die as an addict when he'd been trying so hard to not be known as that anymore. He was meant to live. He was meant to survive.

Anyways.

I also think that Seth spoke to Allison in a baby voice when they were alone. He'd blow raspberries on her stomach and they'd laugh so hard together that they'd cry. There's that too?

#i promise next time i get a seth ask i SWEAR i'll make it to do with smth other than his death #I PROMISE

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imaginemonstervi · 1 year ago

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Collaboration with @la-mishi-mish

I really didn't want to make this concept of Creepypasta information controversial, but I do feel the need to say something

It just baffles me how CLOSE TO TEN years ago people would expose Mishi for her wrongdoings on aging up Sally for fan requested NSFW, leading to people still beating the boney remains of the dead horse into a powder, even nowadays when Mishi apologized n didn't repeat those actions since

yet people would completely ignore that Ben is also a 12 year old ghost being s3xu4l1z3d n shipped to adults by many people in the fandom

Not to overlook the obvious misportrayal of him being a p3rv3rt3d drxg addict

It should be common sense that NO ghost child should be portrayed in such way nor be ‘aged up’ for anything like that

Also BEN not being an exception n a way around it, since the entity does contain the souls or kids too

Don't get me wrong, I am NOT excusing what Mishi did, but it does eat my nerves to STILL see people nowadays bring it up when it clearly has been resolved

Focus maybe on the artists who haven't apologized at all (eg. Yaguyi, DeluCat..)

But it's extremely hypocritical to see people still be riled up on a already resolved old situation,

yet having a complete blind eye when it comes to Ben and how people treat this ghost child, includin the 13 year old version of Jeff the Killer and more kid characters

#ben drowned #ben drowned creepypasta #creepypasta #creepypastaoc #horror arg #behavioral event network #ben lawman #creepypasta fandom

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rainbowxocs · 7 months ago

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(REFERENCE COMING SOON)

TW: Child Abuse, Grooming, Stuff of that nature.

Name: Jonah Louis Francois.

Alt Names: Moon, Mouse.

Special Titles: Forsaken God, Death, The Grim Reaper, Puppet, God Killer.

Old Titles: Roi De France, Dauphin de France, General, God of Knowledge, God of Mourning, God of the Moon, God of Healing, False God, Mad King.

Username: @jonahfrancois

Nicknames: Your Majesty, Your Highness, My Prince, Chiot, Baby Girl, La Lune, Moonie, Old Man, Hero, Mr Nice Guy, Dog Boy, My Muse, Watson, Hound of Baskerville.

Chronological Age: 4.5 Billion.

Vessel Age: 605.

Age: 45.

Pronouns: Any Pronouns.

Sexuality: Demisexual, Gay.

Gender: Transfeminine, Nonbinary, Genderqueer.

Base Species: Starling.

Current Species: Litch, Reaper, “Werewolf.”

Disorders: Insomnia, CPTSD, Morality OCD, Autism, Schizophrenia, NPD, ASPD, Bulimia.

Physical Disabilities: Blind in Left Eye,Dyslexia, Chronic Pain, Cursed, Immunocompromised.

Curse Info: He got cursed after trying to deceive the gods. The curse has two parts to it, Jonah is able to feel everyone‘s pain and emotions within a 50 mile radius of him, Jonah is able to take a persons pain/injury and transfer it to himself. Jonah also has a sort of Hanahaki-esque part to his curse, where Roses and Thorny Branches will sometimes consume him or cause him to throw up the flowers. Usually this part of the curse activates if Jonah hurts someone. His hands and arms can also blacken if he uses excessive power.

Recovering Addictions: Nicotine (Cigarettes), Alcohol, Cocaine.

Religion: None.

Job: Professional Antihero, Hospital Administrator, Cafe Owner, Painter.

Degrees: Mathematics, Physics, Paramedic Science, NPLQ, Health Administration.

Lives in: NYC, New York, 2306.

Languages: Voynich,French, English, ASL, LSF, Spanish, Chinese, Hindi, Japanese, Arabic, German, Danish, Italian, Russian, Dutch.

Height: 6’5”

Ethnicity: French.

Accent: French.

Monster Form: Black Shadowy Werewolf-Like Creature with glowing white eyes. Slightly staticy.

Animal Form: Giant Powder Blue Isopod, or Black Wolf.

Other Form: Blue Goop.

Spirit Form: Blue Firey Figure with Glowing White Eyes.

Spirit Level: Acceptance.

Powers: Healing, Thorn Vines, Siren, Illusion Magic, Reality Bending, Shapeshifting, Snow Magic, Fire Magic, Plant Magic, Hypnosis, Water Magic, Causing Eclipses, Strings, Necromancy, Ocean Magic, Mind Walking, Dream Walking, Static.

Weapons: Sword, Knife, Scissors.

Alignment: Lawful Neutral.

Text Color: Blue.

Main Animal: Dogs, Otters, Mice.

Main Hobbies: Piano, Painting, Sewing, Crochet, Knitting, Antiquing, Reading, Video Games.

Favorite Drinks: Peppermint Tea, Hot Chocolate,

Favorite Snacks: Almonds, Cheese, Tortilla Chips, Triskets, Pomegranates.

Favorite Meals: Peanut Butter and Pickle Sandwiches, Mac and Cheese, Tacos, Ratatouille, Garbure, Mushroom and Olive Pizza, Maki Rolls, Sashimi, Toast.

Favorite Dessert: Blueberry Muffins, Chocolate Chip Cookies, Swirl Icecream, Cheesecake.

Favorite Flower: Daffodils, Lilies, Daisies.

Scent: Fancy Vanilla Cologne.

Handedness: Right Handed.

Blood Color: Gold/Silver, Sometimes Red.

Awareness: Very Aware. (Effect: Negative.)

Birthday: December 1st 1701

Theme:

Playlist:

Fun Facts: Jane Austen is one of his favorite authors, He is fork lift certified.

Special Interests: History, Heroism, Physics, Project Sekai and Vocaloid, Idols, Animals.

Stims: Very subtle stims. Fidgeting with pens, playing with his hair, etc. he also uses a moon stress ball.

Stimboard: COMING SOON.

Moodboard: COMING SOON.

Fashion Board: COMING SOON.

Comfort Objects: Teddy (Old Teddy Bear.)

Family:

Alden Francois, Madeline Francois. (Parents.)

Charles, Pierre, Raphael, Angelo. (Brothers.)

Evelyn Williams (Adoptive Grandmother)

Lila Francois (Adoptive Daughter) (Deceased)

Evan Sirius (Adoptive Son) (Deceased)

Kaela Sirius (Adoptive Daughter)

Aculia Bell (Daughter Figure)

Friends: Samantha, Claire, Malik.

Puppetmaster: Aditya.

Romance: James DuPont, Aditya Ravi. (Spouses.), Kriston Bell (Boyfriend.)

Enemies: James DuPont (Mortal Enemy)

Pets: Jasper (Service Dog) (Golden Retriver), Pepper (Grey,Tan, and White Cat with Cerebellar Hypoplasia), Aquarium with Various Fish.

Reincarnations: Achilles, Other Unknown Reincarnations.

Brief Personality: Not many people know the real Jonah. He has carefully crafted his personality over the past few hundred years in order to be the epitome of perfection. Kind, Generous, Empathetic. He wants nothing more than to help people, to be good. However underneath the mask, Jonah is incredibly lonely. He often feels like there is a glass wall between him and other people. The “real” Jonah, doesn’t react correctly, doesn’t have the proper emotions or thoughts. So he buries that within himself. Though, some have noticed his mask is slipping.

Brief Backstory:

Jonah was born as a french prince, the youngest out of four other brothers. He was much younger than the rest of his brothers, them being young men when he was born. This concerned Jonah's mother deeply as her other sons had playmates and other children to grow up with and Jonah would be all alone. She looked down at her son in his crib until she had an epiphany.

She took several ladies in waiting down to the local town's orphanage with her and she picked out a boy around her son's age. One of the women named him James. Queen Madeline decided that this will be her sons new playmate and took him back to the castle with her.

Jonah and James became inseparable. They shared the same bed, they would play together, eat together, basically do everything together. The queen's gambit actually worked spectacularly. They were best friends. Though she did regret it sometimes when Jonah would have the mother of all tantrums when James wasn't included in every single activity they were doing. But, it made Jonah happy and that's all that mattered to her.

One day, when Jonah was around 5 or 6, Jonah's father kissed his mother while saying goodbye. Jonah asked her about it as he was curious. She explained that is what married people do. Jonah, again confused asked what marriage was. His mother said that marriage is an inseparable bond, someone you are with forever. She also explained weddings and other boring stuff like that.

Jonah nodded, and went off to "go play". and by go play, he means go be a little rascal. Jonah snuck into his parents bedroom and climbed up on a chair. He began to rummage through his mothers jewelry box. The little thief found a beautiful ring and stuffed it in his pockets before making a quick getaway.

Jonah ran his little legs over to James, finding him in the library where he normally was and he knelt down and proposed to James. James, of course said yes and the two of them ran through the castle and to Jonah's mother. Jonah explained that he needed a wedding URGENTLY. it was VERY important.

Thankfully, his mother found this amusing despite the time period and decided to indulge them. She set up a crowd of their collective stuffed animals, and officiated a little "wedding" for the two of them. She even took one of her old necklace chains and fashioned the ring into a necklace, since James hands were far too small to wear the ring normally.

She figured, that they had no idea what the hell this meant so might as well let them have fun.

The rest of their childhood went without much incident, the two of them just learning and playing with one another. Until the two boys turned into tweens about 11 or 12. They were starting to get a little rebellious as tweens often do. One day during a boring royal event, the two of them snuck out of the castle and onto the grounds.

They ran up to a nearby pond that was on the property and they both decided to go swimming. They jump into the water. Jonah is a natural born swimmer, however.. James.. was not.. while Jonah and him were having fun, Jonah got distracted by some guards coming and trying to find him and James. He swam deeper into the water to hide, and when he came back up. He realized.. James was ?̴̡̖̦̼̜̺̰̈́̀̿̀́́͂̋͝͝?̴̛͔͕͙͉͓̙̞͖̱̉͌̊͐̚͜?̴̧̰̭͉̺͙͉̰̯̦̊̇̄̑̄̏̑̄̏͆͑͝?̷̛͈̦͖̲̫̬̔͌̽̇͑̎͐͗͜͠͠͠?̷̼̼͓̖̬̐̓̇?̴̨̧̣̼̘̝͈̰͉̞̅̐̇͌͠?̶͖̬̖̟̱̰͖̹̺̍̿̈́̆͋̃̍?̴̡̛͙̫̬̹͍̳̮̮͍̲̱̔͂͊͆̅̄̾̿̕͜͜͠?̴̛̱̥̖̰̫̖̝̥̝̈́̑̈́͂́̍̔̌̆̔͐͘̚?̴̧̘͍̙͈̯̝̻̝͙̟̹͚̺̂̐̀͗̇̄͝?̵̧̪͔̼̜̤̹͐?̷̯͍̰̪̣̘͈̘̥̐̉̿̾̽̓̂̐̊̐̂̊͑̅̅ͅ

He dived under the water, and.. found.. ?̴̡̖̦̼̜̺̰̈́̀̿̀́́͂̋͝͝?̴̛͔͕͙͉͓̙̞͖̱̉͌̊͐̚͜?̴̧̰̭͉̺͙͉̰̯̦̊̇̄̑̄̏̑̄̏͆͑͝?̷̛͈̦͖̲̫̬̔͌̽̇͑̎͐͗͜͠͠͠?̷̼̼͓̖̬̐̓̇?̴̨̧̣̼̘̝͈̰͉̞̅̐̇͌͠?̶͖̬̖̟̱̰͖̹̺̍̿̈́̆͋̃̍?̴̡̛͙̫̬̹͍̳̮̮͍̲̱̔͂͊͆̅̄̾̿̕͜͜͠?̴̛̱̥̖̰̫̖̝̥̝̈́̑̈́͂́̍̔̌̆̔͐͘̚?̴̧̘͍̙͈̯̝̻̝͙̟̹͚̺̂̐̀͗̇̄͝?̵̧̪͔̼̜̤̹͐?̷̯͍̰̪̣̘͈̘̥̐̉̿̾̽̓̂̐̊̐̂̊͑̅̅ͅ.. James had ?̴̡̖̦̼̜̺̰̈́̀̿̀́́͂̋͝͝?̴̛͔͕͙͉͓̙̞͖̱̉͌̊͐̚͜?̴̧̰̭͉̺͙͉̰̯̦̊̇̄̑̄̏̑̄̏͆͑͝?̷̛͈̦͖̲̫̬̔͌̽̇͑̎͐͗͜͠͠͠?̷̼̼͓̖̬̐̓̇?̴̨̧̣̼̘̝͈̰͉̞̅̐̇͌͠?̶͖̬̖̟̱̰͖̹̺̍̿̈́̆͋̃̍?̴̡̛͙̫̬̹͍̳̮̮͍̲̱̔͂͊͆̅̄̾̿̕͜͜͠?̴̛̱̥̖̰̫̖̝̥̝̈́̑̈́͂́̍̔̌̆̔͐͘̚?̴̧̘͍̙͈̯̝̻̝͙̟̹͚̺̂̐̀͗̇̄͝?̵̧̪͔̼̜̤̹͐?̷̯͍̰̪̣̘͈̘̥̐̉̿̾̽̓̂̐̊̐̂̊͑̅̅ͅ.. Jonah pulls his friend up onto the shore and attempted to?̴̡̖̦̼̜̺̰̈́̀̿̀́́͂̋͝͝?̴̛͔͕͙͉͓̙̞͖̱̉͌̊͐̚͜?̴̧̰̭͉̺͙͉̰̯̦̊̇̄̑̄̏̑̄̏͆͑͝?̷̛͈̦͖̲̫̬̔͌̽̇͑̎͐͗͜͠͠͠?̷̼̼͓̖̬̐̓̇?̴̨̧̣̼̘̝͈̰͉̞̅̐̇͌͠?̶͖̬̖̟̱̰͖̹̺̍̿̈́̆͋̃̍?̴̡̛͙̫̬̹͍̳̮̮͍̲̱̔͂͊͆̅̄̾̿̕͜͜͠?̴̛̱̥̖̰̫̖̝̥̝̈́̑̈́͂́̍̔̌̆̔͐͘̚?̴̧̘͍̙͈̯̝̻̝͙̟̹͚̺̂̐̀͗̇̄͝?̵̧̪͔̼̜̤̹͐?̷̯͍̰̪̣̘͈̘̥̐̉̿̾̽̓̂̐̊̐̂̊͑̅̅ͅ, but it was already t̴̮͙͉͕͒̂̈́̒̿͂͐̈̿̚͠͝o̴͉͈͙͂̏̀̓ͅơ̷̟̳̬̣̪͓̤̱̣̩̮̓̌̐̈́͋̍̃̕͜͝ ̷̟̤̐̐̓̈͊̈́͝l̵̢̡̢̧̡̧̜̝̬̻̱͇̭͈̙̉̅̉a̷̢̦̗̼͕̼̩̭̝̽̔ͅt̸͙͔͝ȩ̸̢̝̝̗̠̘͚̳̫͉̫̱́̀̈́͋̾̒̃̐̒̾̀̑̕. Jonah, began to sob into James. Up in the sky, the moon covered the sun causing an eclipse. The water from the pond moved forwards, surrounding James and Jonah in a shallow pool. The water glowing a bright blue around them and, like a miracle.

James ?̸͎̬̑̇͂̎̓̆̀̒͜?̷͆ͅ��͎͍͓̤͓͖̫͈?̴̧̟́͂͝?̴̧̛̣̞͚̤̟̝̮̫̟͙̟̀͑̀͒̔̅̂̀̄͗̊̌̕͜?̶͈̗̜̝̈̿͛̓̐͌̀?̴̳̖͎̓̈́̕. Jonah hugged him tightly as he began to cry harder. The moon moved past the sun, returning everything to normal. James was very confused as he didn't even remember what had happened. But he hugged Jonah back either way. He picks James up and brings him back to the castle.

The two grow up more, now being around 16. Jonah has been learning how to paint and do the arts, as well as learning how to swordfight. Him and James will practice for hours on in just sparring with one another. The two of them quite enjoy "fighting" and they're both quite equally good at it.

There is a war going on between his father's kingdom and some others. It's quite vicious and things have been tense around the castle. Jonah's older brothers are helping their father the best they can however none of them are exactly good at strategy or battle tactic. Which is causing a lot of arguments between them and their father.

Jonah and James one day decide to visit the war room, where they find the king screaming at Jonah's brothers. Their bad call had caused an entire army to die, once again and he was getting sick and tired of them all being idiots. They all storm out of the room for a moment to cool off, leaving Jonah and James alone in the room.

James looks at the giant chess board in the middle of the room, looking at the battle strategy. Jonah couldn't really make heads or tails of it, he was always more of an artist than a military man. James however moved some pieces around in order to make a better formation before stepping back.

Jonah's father came back into the room, and looked at the board. He looked at Jonah and thought that his son had done it instead of James. Something.. clicks in the kings mind before he dismisses the two boys.

A few weeks later, The king summons Jonah into the war room again. He tells him that it is a shame that he is the youngest when he has so much potential to be a great leader. Jonah.. didn't exactly agree but nodded anyway to be polite. His father brushed some hair out of Jonah's face. "You want to make me proud, right?" The king said.

"Of course." Jonah replied.. nervously.

"Why don't you become my second in command so to speak? Your brothers are not exactly... the best at this sort of thing. I need someone like you to help me."

And of course, Jonah wouldn't say no to something like that. Being able to help his father, to actually get attention from him would be amazing. Him and his father never really had much of a connection due to Jonah being a bit soft. If he could prove to him that he also had value, Jonah thought that would be swell.

Jonah's father and him spent a lot more time together, growing closer and closer. Jonah despite not being the one who originally messed with the board, was actually pretty good at strategy. Most of his plans worked and the ones that didn't, his father would ?̴̡̖̦̼̜̺̰̈́̀̿̀́́͂̋͝͝?̴̛͔͕͙͉͓̙̞͖̱̉͌̊͐̚͜?̴̧̰̭͉̺͙͉̰̯̦̊̇̄̑̄̏̑̄̏͆͑͝?̷̛͈̦͖̲̫̬̔͌̽̇͑̎͐͗͜͠͠͠?̷̼̼͓̖̬̐̓̇?̴̨̧̣̼̘̝͈̰͉̞̅̐̇͌͠?̶͖̬̖̟̱̰͖̹̺̍̿̈́̆͋̃̍?̴̡̛͙̫̬̹͍̳̮̮͍̲̱̔͂͊͆̅̄̾̿̕͜͜͠?̴̛̱̥̖̰̫̖̝̥̝̈́̑̈́͂́̍̔̌̆̔͐͘̚?̴̧̘͍̙͈̯̝̻̝͙̟̹͚̺̂̐̀͗̇̄͝?̵̧̪͔̼̜̤̹͐?̷̯͍̰̪̣̘͈̘̥̐̉̿̾̽̓̂̐̊̐̂̊͑̅̅ͅ give him a pat on the back. You can't win them all after all.

His brothers kept getting in the way though of his progress. The lot of them didn't really take Jonah seriously. His dad did though, and that's all that mattered. Him and his dad would stay up late at night and ?̴̡̖̦̼̜̺̰̈́̀̿̀́́͂̋͝͝?̴̛͔͕͙͉͓̙̞͖̱̉͌̊͐̚͜?̴̧̰̭͉̺͙͉̰̯̦̊̇̄̑̄̏̑̄̏͆͑͝?̷̛͈̦͖̲̫̬̔͌̽̇͑̎͐͗͜͠͠͠?̷̼̼͓̖̬̐̓̇?̴̨̧̣̼̘̝͈̰͉̞̅̐̇͌͠?̶͖̬̖̟̱̰͖̹̺̍̿̈́̆͋̃̍?̴̡̛͙̫̬̹͍̳̮̮͍̲̱̔͂͊͆̅̄̾̿̕͜͜͠?̴̛̱̥̖̰̫̖̝̥̝̈́̑̈́͂́̍̔̌̆̔͐͘̚?̴̧̘͍̙͈̯̝̻̝͙̟̹͚̺̂̐̀͗̇̄͝?̵̧̪͔̼̜̤̹͐?̷̯͍̰̪̣̘͈̘̥̐̉̿̾̽̓̂̐̊̐̂̊͑̅̅ͅ gossip about his brothers. The king over the coming months explained to himạ̴̢̛̜͂̌̆̀̋̑̉̋͝͠ ̴͓̯̑̈͗̉̃͒̒̚ṕ̷̮̣̣͈̫̤̅̀̈̔͑͌͛͘ľ̶̡̛̥͖̮̪͚̟͉̠̤͎̊̃́̀̉́̋̆̾̚ă̶̡̜̤̗̖͓͔̦̥̼̣͈̜̞͚̚n̴̨̛̍̔͐̾͑̂. Obviously, he couldn't just make Jonah the heir. Birth order succeeds intelligence and actual talent to rule a country. So the king told Jonah to ?̴̡͕͍̭̭̝̣͖̼̭̞͙̺̳̖̇͝?̷̧̙̟̭̥̰̥̱̭̾̊̅͑̓̾̏̈͋̑́̕̚̚͜?̷̯͇͖͇̳͔͓͖̜̼͖̖̼̻̬͌̂̇́͐́͑̎͘?̶̛͔̰̦̓̎̂̆̄̎̄̈̀͘̕͠͠?̸̧̪̩͖̱̣̱̠̠͔̬̀͐͗̈̋̔̊̎͘͝͠͠?̸̯͔͔̙̞̦̹̱̫̩͙̘̜̙̙̽́̏͊̊͘. It would be easy, all he had to do was get rid of the problem and then Jonah wouldn't have to worry about his brothers getting in the way of ?̴̡͕͍̭̭̝̣͖̼̭̞͙̺̳̖̇͝?̷̧̙̟̭̥̰̥̱̭̾̊̅͑̓̾̏̈͋̑́̕̚̚͜?̷̯͇͖͇̳͔͓͖̜̼͖̖̼̻̬͌̂̇́͐́͑̎͘?̶̛͔̰̦̓̎̂̆̄̎̄̈̀͘̕͠͠?̸̧̪̩͖̱̣̱̠̠͔̬̀͐͗̈̋̔̊̎͘͝͠͠?̸̯͔͔̙̞̦̹̱̫̩͙̘̜̙̙̽́̏͊̊͘.

O̵͍̼̣̯͍̲̅̔̐̒̅͑̊̿̌͗̆́̚n̵̞͙̼̬̩͇͕̠͎̼͕͍̺͕͂e̵͈̓̒͛ ̵͔͔̲̳̙̞̪͓̊ḅ̴̛̘̙̠͝ỵ̸͙̬̺́̅̐̔̀͒̑̈̀̎̕̕̕̚ ̷̨̗̜̱̬͓̟͉̯̯̥̜̣̙̈̋̉̿͋͜ö̴̡̫̖̤̀̾͝n̸̡̨̺̮͔̲̝̗͍̹̹̓̍̅̐̏̕ḙ̶̻̲̻̀̎̈́̋̑͛̾̔͘̕ ̸̙̟́͆̍͗͌̃͌͆t̴̰̤̪̫̗̐͒̀́̉̑̉̔̓͋͛̽̚͝ͅh̶̘̜͑̄̈́̾͒̿̈͑̆́̆̊͘͝ę̷̛̜͎̝͂̇̂̄͠ ̶̛̘̃̑̌̃̏p̸̧̢̛̩̪̤͛̊̅̀r̸̨̡͎̟͖͚̖̱̭̪̋͌̓̈́̈̓͝í̷̛̺̜̜̥̬̰͔͎̇̉̔̐̊̂̄͗͘͝n̵̨̨̦̬̹͔̮̽̐͛̄͐̄̊̾͌̆̒͝c̵̡̤̖̭͙̜͈̟͖͖̍̆ͅȩ̶̱͖͓̭̩͒͐s̴̡̨̢̘̫̙͔̗͚̀͊͆͝ ̷̘̣̜͙͋̓̎̏́̇ả̴̡̧̡̤͇̬͉͉̰̭̮̱͙̹̐̈́l̸͕̘̀̄͐̔̀̒̇̚͜͠l̶̯͙͎̳͔̜̘̦̤̳̪̐̔̀ ̸̻̉͑͂̂͆̇͝f̶̨̪̩͙͙̦̆̋̆̃̾́͜ē̵̡̢̛͓͔̬̰̭̘̣͎̻͙̓̒̽̊̈͆͆̈́̃̈́͒͘ͅl̶̢̩̳̗̘̜̮͖̙̥̥̃̈̃̽̎̀͛͋͠͝ḽ̴̫͍̭̀̓̈́̽̀̇͌͌͊͝.̴̢͕͈̱̝̪͚̲͎̪͕̭͓̈́͊̐͒̾͊̒̑̀̅̅̌̿̊͜͝

Jonah was the new heir to the throne, and along side his father he began to train to one day take over his fathers stead. ỉ̸͔͕̹͗̌̇̋͝ ̴̡̛̰̯̯̣̼͕́͗̀̍̔̎̉̀̚h̷̡̢̦̼̝̬̳̼̬̘̬̰̝̃͛́̑̔̽͝ͅá̵̡̡̱̮͙͎͍̠̭̭̎͛ͅț̵̗̱̘̬́̑͂̅́̂̄̉͆͒͘ ḙ̴̲̻͛̆̐́͊͘͘t̴̡̢̧̤͖̜̯͌̓͛͗͑̔̓̈́͒̽̄͑̚͝͝h̶͔͚̪̤͎̅̃̔́͗̾̚͠ī̶͍͕̱̹̬̺̬̰͖̺͛̀̿̆̽͝ş̷̲̭̪̹̬̀́̏͠.̷̪͕̠̩̱͎̺̳͕̻͙̻̍̓͌̅͝ͅ Jonah finally felt happy, H̷̬̫̟̪̻̍͂̍̑̔̿̍͒̾̚ế̵̻̭̮̜̬̄̈́ ̴̧̗͙̳͚̰̹̤̻̭̣͆͋̒̍͜h̷̥͖͉̤̯̗̹͉̯͍̣͕̰̹̰̒̌̅͊͛̎a̶͙̻͙̟͎͒̓̒d̸̙͓͔̜̔̌͐̀̀̓ ̵̖̠̘͈͚͍̞͎̥̺͉̎̍̄́́̈́͗̇͛̀̕͝͝a̷͙͔̲̭͐͑̀̎͘͝ ̷̨̫͍̪͓̼̬͖̪̞̤̤̪̘͖̒̿̇̏̊̊̊̒̒͗p̵̛̤̗͙͓̿̐̂͌̓̒̊̍͆͒̇̏̚͝ͅư̶̛̪͙͌̿͂̌̿̈́̅̀ŗ̶̈́͆̏͑͒̉̑̆̚p̴̬̣̓͒̆̀̏̔͠ȏ̷̡̰̣͋͊̏ś̴̨̢̛̛͓̪̦̝̗̂̑̈̒̓́͑̉ḙ̶̢̢̛̘̰̙̻̊̈́͐̂̈́̓.̸̞̓̏̑̾ H̵̡͔̥̰͍̠̻͌̀̈́͌͂͂̆͂͛̂͊̕ͅȅ̴̡̼̙̘͎̙͇̍̀̔͋̚ ̵͖̼͇̾̅̿̾̔͛͠w̸̛͇͑̋̄̔̄̓͋̅́̈́́́à̵̳̑̉̀́͂̍̑͋̿̊̊̈́́͝s̵̰̪͇̹̖̠̳̝͂̽͗̕͠ ̶̪̼̠͙̬̺̚m̶̤̪̪̟͚̭͙̮̼̾̐͂͛̑̏͂a̵͓̰̺͕̻͓̤̣̖̤͇͈͗́̀̽͌̀͒̎̆̊͒́̂͘ķ̸̫͇̰͕̲͍͚̠͚̯̥̗̥̊͗͂͋̚͜ḯ̸͚̰̥̠̫̘͙̹͍̼̜̞̦̜̒͐͋̽̌̐̎̒̉̽͆̚͝͝n̷̨͇̯̭̠̝͕̝̻̽ğ̸̭̞͊̽̀͊͝͝͝ ̸̡̖̓̌͜ͅḩ̵͙̬͖̳̞̝̘̞̫̤͊̿̾̿̒i̷͔͗͆m̴̛̹̹̯̆͊͐͛̿̊̚ ̵̢̳̬̤̪̝͍̜̹̣̮̥̠̱͂͒͋̓̈́͒͝ͅp̴̢̨̡̛̝͙̝͔͍̺̲͙̣͐͊̌̂̾́̈́̒̈́̿͌̅͝͝ͅr̴̡̡̰̬̗̰̖̪̩̗̾̑̎̋ͅo̴̬̗̱̠̰̺̲͖̞̭̲̗̩̟͑̈̌̎̉̏̀̈́̊̈́̽̿͗̈́ǔ̴͖͔̮̣̗͎͓͍͉̠̤͙̣̥̉͑̓̐́͗̉̍̓̈́̍̓͂ͅd̵̛͉̘͐̂͊͂͌́̑̎̐̒̅.̶̖͉̂̇̿̌̈́͆͜

When Jonah was around 17, all the court could talk about was marriage. There were several ladies of the court who were fawning over him. However Jonah never seemed interested in any woman. Most people believed he was just reserved. Every party his mother and father would throw for him to find a wife, he would just sneak off to the rose garden with James.

In Jonah's mind, he already had a wife. He didn't need anyone else besides him. James however was a bit more practical. He did genuinely try and attempt to get Jonah at least a woman he could be friends with so the others wouldn't grow suspicious of the two of them. Despite Jonah's many protests.

His mother informs him that a specific kingdom has offered a meeting with their daughter. Jonah begrudgingly agreed after James pushed him to at least try to meet with her. A few weeks later, a quite beautiful woman arrived, a Duchess from a neighboring country named Dahlia. They exchanged pleasantries however her ladies in waiting wouldn't quite let Jonah anywhere near her to speak with her.

James followed Jonah around to sort of, match the vibe the Duchess was putting out. The group of them would walk around the castle together in awkward silence. It was so. terrible. Jonah eventually lead the group of them to the rose gardens, where he s̴̞͇̤̰̗̗͖̭̥̍̀̒̊͋͑̚͠t̷̮̻̭̤̩͔̆̓̋ǎ̷̡̛͎͊̈́̓̈́͐̚͘ŕ̷̡̨̪̤̜̗͚́̍̓̋͂̓́̽̔̇͑̕͠e̴͍̰̖̥̺͉̯͗d̸̨̧̛̬̯̪̭̳̳̹̝̦̗̘̺̤̑́̽̓̚͠͠ ̶̮̺͚̜͕̲͓̜̱̬̔̐̓̾͜͠͝ͅa̵̡͈͖̮̼͓̅̌̏̐̈́̕̚t̴̨̢̝̬͇͔̙̆͋̾͐͊̃̓̿̋̂̉̍͂́̕ ̶̢̢̯̹̣͈̦̜̥͍̹̞͔͒̉̀͒̀͐̉̚͜t̶̢̙̹͕̬̖̭̩͙͓̑̆͂̾͊̍̄͆̕̚͠ͅh̷̨̰̭̩̭͚͈͓̱̗̪̺͉̣̭̽́̉̔͝ę̵̛̛͉̻̍͗̒̋́͑̎̀̽͑͆͘͝ ̶̨͎̜̲̥̹̦̯͔͎͖̗̱̇r̴̨̛̥͚̩̙̖̜͕̟̤̮̳̒́̾̌̈́̂̽̄̔̌̀͆̌͘ǫ̴͚͕̫͚̱̘͙͍͙̟͗ŝ̴̹̒͐͐́̒͆͗̇̏͝e̸̡̘̫̭̳͓̖̺̜̬̝̜̖̔̎͆́́͑͛̿͝ş̷̡̡̬̥̮̙͉̜̙͔̗̈́̀.̷̨̳̭̼̣̈́̾̀̈̒͂͆͗̉̐̑͐̉̈́̈

He went and grabbed one with his hand h̴̨̥̰͚̦̪͎̤̘̠̪̟͇̠̿̍̓͊̽́̍̚ͅę̸̢̠͉̝͛̒̊̌͋̎̋̑͆̊̓̚̕͘͘ͅ ̴̛̛̟̯̥̙͎̤͖͈̻̊̉̈͂̏̄̀͘͜͜b̷͈͚̬̈́̇̾̅̏̆͒͋̓̈̂͜l̵̟̈́́͊̾̾͒̊̋̓͐ȏ̶̧̳͍͇̜̩͖͔͕͍̥̣ͅo̵̯͑͋͗̎́̏̄̿̊͜͝d̵̩̩́͊̓̍̿̊͐͊͗̎̑͗̿͂̕ ̸̛̛̦͊̄̆͋̊̀̄́̉̈́͛͘̚g̷̨̾̀͋̊ų̷̗̥̜̾͌̉͌̇s̶̢̛̤̼͎̈̒̾͑̀͊̆̉̚h̷̛̖̯̓̄́̐̓i̴͚̝̼̦̯̝̙̣̥̠͎̘̬̋̍̋͒̀̉̾̑͜n̸͍̦̜̄͐̃̀͑́̎̌́̚g̴̡͓̺̜̖͚͙̥̟͎͎̫̭̈͐̏̆͌̈́̂͒ͅ ̸̳̳̪̗͉̆͗̍̔͑̆̈́̃̆̕ͅf̵̰̹̬̉̑͛̍ŕ̵̼͈͙͈̪͎͕̳̪̼̱̻̮̦͐̑̾͗̿̅̚͝ͅo̸̘̬̗͉̾̅̿̓͐͐̐́̎̊͂͑̂̍m̵̯̜̤̱͎͈͉̣͓͓̙̺̘͋͝ͅ ̸̡̨̛͈̞̹̘͎̰̹͉̳̯͉́́̅̏̍̍̈́̋́͠ͅh̴̖̝͋͒ï̵̢̨̢̲̼͎̼͕͕̣͍͎̼̯̀ş̷̛̫̩̼̪͎̟̥̦̬̞̜͚̑̉̃̄̎̈̉̉͛͂͆́̔͜͝ ̶̡̛̛͇͈͕̗͖͙̱͉͚͕̖̘̼̭̿͌͆͐̈̿̆͋͐̈́̀̕͠ḩ̴̯̞͔̺̦͎͙͗̌̎́̆͑͆̀̍̈͝a̸̙̣͈̠̲̙͔̭̥͎̘̖̮̜̿̒͛́ͅn̶̦̂͆̔̇̋̆̏́d̸̢̛̻̙̭̟̞̠͗͋̂̓͋͒͜ ̶̪̼̓͆̄̂̃̈å̵̗͓̘̠̱̀̎̏s̴̰̪͓̣̖̪̭̱̺͉̀͋̌̀̚͜ ̸̧̲̟͓̈̌̔̍̉͊͛̓t̸̯̪͉͎̞͉͗͛͛͘ḩ̷̘̩̭̤̦̻̮̝͚́̓̊̈́̿͜e̸̛͈̬̜͕͖͊͐̃̅̚͝ ̶̢̧̩̮̘̹̖̣͚́̏̐ͅt̵̨̩̩͉̯̳̬̮͓͈̻̯̿̈́̑͒̈́̽͊̒̈́ͅh̸̛̥͎̟̘̜͗̇͗̎̈́̈́̿̈͌͒͆͊̕͠o̶̹͍̹̯͔͊̎͒̉̀̐́ŗ̸̨̧͍͕̬͉̠̬̳̩̖͖̞̜̈́̅̄̀n̵͂͛̔͌̈́̂��̡̢̼̠̪̦̫͈̬̘͉ͅͅs̴̥̘̭̘̦̾̊̆ ̶̛̩̎͛d̴̤͈̬̩̬͍̞͚͇̏̆̑̓̽̇̂́́͑̿̏̆͝u̶͚͓͕̩͔̗͙̪̳̮̤̮̠̾͜͜g̴͓̰͈͈̓ ̴̧̻̬͓̥̏́̾̈́͜ḯ̶̗̹͚̞̙̜̘͓͈̬̗̀͗̅̋͂̓͒̀͗͂̐̚͘̚͜ͅn̷̺̫̞̝̖͈̓̇̍̾̓̂͋̀̌̌̂̂̄͝t̶̫̳̠͉̼͈̎̽͑̈́̌͑͐̎͂̈̉̒̔̚o̸̞̥̞̰̭̺̘̦̰͍̹̹͛͑͂̿͜ ̴̘̠̳͇̩͓̿̈́̈́̇͑̄͑̀͌̕̕͠ḫ̷̨̢̧̞̻̦̼̺̩̝͕̠͆͜ī̴̧͕̣͖̹̥̟̫̩̬̖͉̰͑̐̀̽̔̈́̈́̆̕ḿ̴̢̦̩̣͙̬͎̫͔̝́̅̏̐̈͛͑͂̌͋̇̕̕͜.̸͎̑̍̍́̅̅̈́̾̽͘͘

He stared down at the bandages on his hand.

"Are you listening, Jonah?" The king said.

"Oh." He shook his head, looking up at his father. "Sorry. I got distracted, what did you say?"

"People are starting to talk, Jonah." His father took a sip of his drink as he paced slightly around the room.

"We could give you the most beautiful, intelligent woman in the entire world and you would still run off with the servant boy." His father said, coldly.

"I... mean.. I've known him for my entire life.. He's my best friend.. I just sort of default to his company above someone I don't really know.." He sighed. "She was barely even speaking to me."

"You always find an excuse, Jonah. It's always something with you."

"I'm sorry. I didn't me-" ?̸̨̛̰͓͍̦̭̄̈͘͠?̵̡̲̱̭̺̰̣͋͐̎͒͊́̚͝?̷̼̻̇͂͛̿͌̕͝͝?̴̯̟̜̦͉̰̣̊͊͒́͌̓͐̒̅?̷̧͖̆?̸̨̳̎͋̈́͐̊̎̈́̂͘?̴̝̻̱̞̮̆̈̇͒̿̒̄͆̕͠?̷͎̗͕̫̜̯̭̱͉̖́̒͛̅̉̓͝?̴̡̡̳̘͉̟̝̮̦̫̺͐̊̊̌̍́̀̒̀͗͑̏͊͘͜?̴̨͓̪͉̲͖͓̬̬̣̳͎͕̼͑͗̽̚̚?̸̢̮͍̰͙͖͛̿̈́̈̽̑̽͐̔͠͝ͅ?̶͇̣̱̮̦̈́̽̅͂̊̓̑͂͗̍?̷͙̥̻̦͚́̇̕̕?̵̧͖̺͓͍͎̠̦̣͈̝̞̾͑̾̔̅͆͋̎̀̅́͗̚͝?̶̧̢̼̫̥̮̥̫̤̈͒̊͆͊̌̉͆͗̅̔́̅͠?̷̢̧̠̱̗̺̘̝̥̿́͂͜?̶̛͈͙͗̀̈́͐͘͠͝?̴̡̛̘̖̈́̾̔̀̑̓̉̋͘͝?̷̨̙̜̥̣̖̩̻̤̦̟̩̳̦̉̍̍͌̾̐́̕͜͠͝?̵̲̲̤̦̖̣̔͂̓͌̇̄̾͒̍̋͝?̶̤͙̦̗͔͈̘͍͇̎̿̆̔̊̔͌ͅ?̴͔͕͕̮͙͂͂̚͘?̵͎͍͈̗̿̓̔̋̈͛͐͊͗͜͠͠ͅ?̸̢̺͍̙͖̤̭̜͙́͑̾͛̉̽͗̿̈́̂̌̈̇͜͝͝?̴̬̯̱̳̣͚͕̇͗̕?̴̜͓̫̺̰̰̞͈̣̐̀̒̾̈̍̉̒?̷̧̯͙̄̈̃͑̒͐̽͝?̴̨̛̫̥̰͔̩̻͇̲̫̯͛̈͊̏̑̏̅̅͆̍́͜͝?̵̞͖̖̗̟̠̯͙̻̙̳̼͓̒/̶̫͇̱̀͛͐͐̾̇́͊̈̚͠ͅ

Within the next few weeks, Dahlia was betrothed to Jonah. The plan being Dahlia will move into the castle and live with his family. Jonah wasn't the most thrilled with this arrangement, but he knew it was necessary. He just tried to enjoy his last few months of freedom.

One night, Jonah woke up. He rubbed his eyes and realized James was gone from their bed. Which was odd. Jonah tried to go back to sleep, but he just couldn't without James around so he decided to take a little walk around the castle until James came back.

He walked through the hallways and heard ?̸̛̥̳͍̟̠̮̗̠͈̀̌̂̄̾͂̈͒͌?̶̢̰̜̰̪͍͙̪̥̮͎̼̒̓͗́̑̽͑͌́̃͌̓͘͠?̶̨̤͖̲̳̺͉̘̦̥͍̆̍̅?̸̦̼̦̩̜̤̗̱͚͈͔̮̋́́̃͌̀̊̇͌̈̀͒͗͜ͅ?̸̨̩͚̭̪̖͔͓̭̫̺̖̪̮͈̏̐́̑̆̎̎͆̅͆́̕̕?̶̨͇̲̩̱̔́̅͂̆̽. James came out of his parents room,?̸̛̥̳͍̟̠̮̗̠͈̀̌̂̄̾͂̈͒͌?̶̢̰̜̰̪͍͙̪̥̮͎̼̒̓͗́̑̽͑͌́̃͌̓͘͠?̶̨̤͖̲̳̺͉̘̦̥͍̆̍̅?̸̦̼̦̩̜̤̗̱͚͈͔̮̋́́̃͌̀̊̇͌̈̀͒͗͜ͅ?̸̨̩͚̭̪̖͔͓̭̫̺̖̪̮͈̏̐́̑̆̎̎͆̅͆́̕̕?̶̨͇̲̩̱̔́̅͂̆̽ brushed past Jonah. His mother stormed out with his father standing in the doorway, trying to tell her to come back. Before he looks at Jonah and ?̸̛̥̳͍̟̠̮̗̠͈̀̌̂̄̾͂̈͒͌?̶̢̰̜̰̪͍͙̪̥̮͎̼̒̓͗́̑̽͑͌́̃͌̓͘͠?̶̨̤͖̲̳̺͉̘̦̥͍̆̍̅?̸̦̼̦̩̜̤̗̱͚͈͔̮̋́́̃͌̀̊̇͌̈̀͒͗͜ͅ?̸̨̩͚̭̪̖͔͓̭̫̺̖̪̮͈̏̐́̑̆̎̎͆̅͆́̕̕?̶̨͇̲̩̱̔́̅͂̆̽.

ḯ̷͖̞̑̕͜ḿ̴̦̻̣̋͠ ̵̡͖͚̕s̸̹͚̒͊o̶̘͋ ̶͖̍̈̚s̸͍̱̾̐ō̵̫̲r̸̖̆̐͜r̶͕͆͌̃ÿ̴͙̺̟́͊ ̷̬̦̈m̷̖͙̝͛͠ő̶̫m̶̛̫̟͙̃m̷̯̗̩̐̇̾y̶̞͙̼̌͛̚ ̶̢̢͕̑͛̈́i̴̛̪͘ ̵̤̌ḋ̶̪͈͎ĩ̵̼̖̚d̷͖͆͒̾n̸̨̦͊̃t̵͇̖͐́̒ ̵͎͔͒̚ḿ̴̧͉è̵̠̔ȁ̴̫̗̮n̸̼̠̈͑ ̷̡̀́͜t̵̘̦́o̵̱͌͐o̶̤͇͕͝ ̴̺͒͋̓p̶̬̦̚l̶͓̖͝e̵̘͓̺̓̓̓ả̸̫̪s̷̱̚e̵͚̰̫̐̈́ ̴̙̺͊f̸͉̈͂o̶͈̓̔̚͜r̶͔̱̈͝ḡ̸̲̣͒̄ị̴͕̾͐̂v̴̻́̇ḙ̷͋ ̷͔͛͐̍m̴͔̺̓e̴͈̍ ̵̠̞̈́i̶͇͒̾͑m̸̻̠͖̏͒͠ ̷̥͌ś̵͇̥͓̌͘ỏ̸̠̂͝ ̴͇̃̊s̷̳̑̇o̸̧͓̜̾́ȓ̵̜͘r̶̰̭̦̿͑̉y̵̲̻̠̍̅͂ ̴̳̻͎͂i̴̳̒̕ ̵̱͑d̴̯̂̂ì̶̯d̴̞̺͛̒n̷̮̼̣͋̄t̴̛̞̏ ̴̨̜̟̍̆m̸̨̬̿e̴̟̥͐̈͆a̸̖̿͊̀n̵͖͚̣̓ ̵̘̒͠t̷̛͎͈ō̸͖̳ ̴̻̣̂̀͝i̷̳͐ ̷̼͊͜d̵̲̫͖͗͌ì̵̖͚̜͋d̸̺͌̃̇ǹ̸͍̭̊̿ț̴̭̀̋͜ ̶̪͍͙̒͂m̷̱̟̾ë̷̟̲́a̷͖̕n̸̗̻͑͝ ̸̱̆ţ̸͖̈́o̸͖͠ ̶͖͌͗̒i̶̞͘m̷̠͚̬͑́̇ ̷̢͕̈̂͝s̶̳͐̂͝ó̷̜̯̈́̍ṟ̷̼̈́ṙ̶̫̟̂y̸̬̭͗̓̅ ̴̛̲̼̱t̶̡̩͍̚̚ḫ̵̅͛ë̵̱̱́r̴̠͌̌e̷̻̺̩͆s̶̛̮̏̕ ̵̝͛̇̌ͅs̵̭̲͂͂͐o̴̯̥͆ ̷̧̘̱̓m̷̬̌u̷͇͊̿͠c̵̢̩̈̈h̸̪̓̂͘ ̵͓͈͎̒b̴̄̕ͅl̴̪̣͐ō̸͉ô̴̯̮̹̚͝d̷̩̭̘́͠ ̸̛̤̊͗i̶͓̹̊̅ ̷̦̯̌̄d̸̛̗ĩ̶̧͉̾͘d̴̥̮̓̆n̴̦̤̮̋̀t̸̨̟͇̿̃̓ ̸̨͚̰̾m̵̧̹͆͂͠e̸̞̟͕̐a̸̖̘̔ṇ̵̞͓͊̋̀ ̸̖͆t̵̟̻́̒ö̵̠̒ ̸͓̎̅k̶̲̓i̸̱͛l̸͔̮̓l̷͔̊͊͝ ̵̙͐͘͝y̴̬͗ờ̸̫̬͈̚u̴̖̞̪̇ ̴̟͈̑̒̔b̷͈̊̏͋o̷̰̞̲͐t̷̨̰͓̀h̵̩̍̈́͠ ̶̞͖̇̓͜į̶̏̄̆m̶̟̲͆͛̕ ̷̫̖̰̿s̶̜̒̕͝ͅò̷̧̲̻͝r̷̦̤̋r̴̝͌̀̓ỷ̴̬ ̶͇̹͘ị̴̞̚ͅ ̴̥̯͚̇͝d̴͉͊̄į̴̤̿̄́d̴̢̧͜͝n̶̛͖̥t̷͓̅̒ ̷̰͓̙̏m̴͔̽͆ę̸̀̈̚a̸̬̤̓͋͠n̶̮̥̞̏ ̵̺̅͋t̴̞̊o̸͓̾ ̴͕̣̳̊͂i̶̧̜̘̔̇͝ṃ̴̡̉ ̴̛͚s̴̢̤̯̋̀o̴͇͐̏ṙ̵̪̘̓r̷̭͗͘ȳ̴̙͐́ ̵̪̈̀į̷̥͕̎̄̄m̵̗̻̞̔̕͠ ̸̩͉͒͘s̴̩̗̤̅ó̸̻̦̺͠r̷̗̭͋r̴̤͛̈́y̴̭̗͙̐͒͝ ̶̝̭̆̆͝p̷̢͝ḻ̴̩̜͋e̶̯̭̋͜a̵͈͉͕͐̎͋s̴̤͆̕e̵̥̗͐̂̈́͜ ̴̻̝͐̄̈c̶̬͐͂̍ó̴̧̮̜͠m̴̤̠̳̍͘e̸̢̊̀̕ ̶͔͠b̴̠͕̮̄ȧ̵̮̜̞̃̈́c̵̞͐̿k̸̞̙̉ ̵̟̱͌̓͝i̴̢̢̠̓̕͠l̶̬̖̗̔͑̈́l̵̨͉̓̄ ̵̼͗͌͘b̴̙̲̯̓ẹ̷̱̽͜ ̸͕̌̆̀g̴̢̻̝̅̈́ȏ̶̗̤̈o̴͎̽͂̂ḑ̴̥͎̿̑ ̸̰̚͠ť̴̠̺͎h̴͈̊ị̴̓̃s̶̘̏ ̷̩̟͛ͅẗ̷̢̈́i̸̝̩̋̓m̴̟͌̓̀e̴̟͕̺̎ ̶̧̄͐͛͜p̴͚̔͌͒ĺ̸̡̅ͅë̸͙̭́͠͠ậ̸̻͉͘s̷̡̙̞̄͐e̵͙̫̣͊͒̕ ̴̡̺̔̕c̷̳̄̑͜͝ỏ̸͕̠͎͘͝m̷̝͒̾͋e̵͔̓ͅ ̶͈̳͓͛̃b̷̜̤͆a̸͔̙͑͘c̶̗͕̈͝k̶̹̪̋̋ ̶̢̃̃i̵͚͚̩͐ ̷̳̉w̷̺̅į̴̭͌́l̴̞̈l̵̖̯͉̂ ̷̧̠̬͒͝d̶̺͔͊ỏ̶͔͘͘ ̷̮͝a̸̠̖̖͒n̷̤͑ẙ̴̨̹̍̈́t̴̥̤͛̈́͝h̵͉̺̣͐̐̈į̵͠͠ͅn̵̟̻̈́̐͑͜ǵ̶̻͕̰̇͋ ̵̗̹̊́͑t̶̪͎̅́ȍ̸̳͒̓ ̵̹̭́g̷͚̣̒̆͝ḛ̸̆͝t̴̰͓̑͐͐ ̴̘͖̙̀̔͠y̷̧̭͚̔õ̵̳̞̥̔̆ǘ̷̬̱̀͋ ̵͎̲̼͠b̵͓̈́͠ḁ̴͎̍ͅc̶͉̒̚k̸͇̹̳̈́ ̵̙̽p̶̯̲̉͜͝͠l̴̛̤̥͚͂ë̴͙̗͇́a̸̫̋̓̚s̴̰̹͆̅̉ē̸̼̫͠ͅ ̷̧͍̠̾i̷͍̞͋m̸̺̝̑̓͝ͅ ̷̹͖͛͗s̴̡̋o̸̩̒ŕ̷̦͚̍r̴̡͍͛͂̍͜y̸̙̅̀͗ ̶̧͍̱̓͠i̷̢̻̪̐͐m̷͓̼̖͛͝ ̶̢͉̂̉̕s̴̛̲͠͝ó̵̳̂ŗ̷͎̎́r̶͙͛̆y̸̰͓̎̀ ̷̥͈̦̈́̒̋i̷̼̓m̵͈̝̃͒̍ ̷̞̺͊̇ṣ̶̔̈́͐ŏ̵͚̩̼r̸̼̓͆͊r̴̠̗̱̽́ý̶̜̎͠ ̸̟̠͝ị̸̧͌ḿ̸̼͇ ̷̦̑s̶͔͂͌̿ơ̸̛̬͖̈́r̵̘̲͆̀̚ŗ̶̜̣͗͠ÿ̸̗̼̱́.̵̙͈̆̉͘ ẗ̴̺̞̂h̷̭̆͌e̶̡̜͎̒̀ŗ̴̘̜̀̔̈è̶̟̞̫̚ș̵̖͙͆̆͆ ̴̣̅̋s̸̢͓͙̓ọ̷̿͝ ̷̨̜͖̄m̴͔̹̈́u̶̦͓̿́c̷̛̱̫̽h̵͇͚̣̆̇ ̵̲̉͒b̸̠̱̻̉l̵̻̮̙͗͑͝ö̸͓́o̵̻̅d̶̠̱̿ ̸͎͇̈́̑͘t̸̮͈̘͘ȟ̵̪͌̃ȇ̸̦̱̯ṙ̸̨̞e̵̮̲̪̚s̴̼̈́ ̴̠̒̆̇s̶̨̯̈́̉͛o̶̱̘̼̅̈́̌ ̶̞͈̈́̂̌m̵̧̙̟͐̑ű̸̩͖c̵̿͌͜h̶̲͛͊ ̴͉̮̖͗̀́b̶͙͔̅̎l̴̥̠̲̍̌͠ö̶͔́̃͂ó̴̡͎͓͋̓d̶̥̻̂̊ ̴̼̀t̴̜̻͐̏̒h̴̞͔̏͂͝é̵̯̝r̴̰̼̒ę̶̤̾ͅs̵͙̮̰͂̓͝ ̴̺̦͊̉̀s̶̭̯̉͑ö̸͎͚̯ ̸͕̗̂̈́͋͜m̶͓̿u̷̞͔͛c̶̳͛̀͘ͅh̶̨͙̜͠ ̴̜̂̀b̶̧̮̾̀̎ḽ̸̨̜̋̀͌o̶͕̞̓ò̴̜̟͓̾̓d̵̥͗͂ ̵̠̆̐ì̵̼ ̴̭̅͆͝c̷̥̬̊͗̋ä̴̲͓́̈́n̴̝͖̏t̵̳͉̙̕ ̸̗̆͜͠͠b̵̥͂r̵̜̄͝e̵͚̭̊ä̴͎͖̳́t̶̠͉̑̀̕h̶̙̗̗̑̀e̵̲̞̙̽̈́͝ ̸̝̠̩̄p̵͓̹̉l̸̺̅̅e̶͓͐̀̀ã̸̞̬̽͜s̵͇͝è̵̺̮͑̄ ̷̤͗m̷̺̪̑̆̅ä̶̝̍k̴͙̇̓̉e̶̢̙̲̽ ̶̢̰̤̒̂͌ï̴̖̣t̵̬̗̝̉ ̶͉̰̃͘͜s̶͉̣̮̿t̵̞̫̽̑ǒ̴̡̼p̵̱̰͗̌ ̴̠̒̈́͜m̴͇̋a̷͔̥͈͛͝k̴̥̣̗͌͝͝ĕ̷͜͝ ̸͇̫́͐i̸̠̙̎̒̂ͅṯ̸͆̚ ̴̳̞́̓̚s̵̡͉̎̔̈́ţ̸̘̙̾̇o̵̺̮̯͠p̵̨̽͠ ̶̿̚͜ī̸̛̖ ̸͙̲͇̿̒̕d̴̝̔̕o̴̫̯̾͒͠ͅn̵̖͔̒͗͝t̸͝ͅ ̷̫̇͋͂ẃ̶͔̖̮a̸̤̫͛n̸̩̦̥͠t̵͓̙͉͝͝ ̴̳̰͝t̸̳̙̏̽̕o̵͙̐̾̓ ̵̣̖͛r̴̺̜̹̎è̸̖̮̓m̶̧̙̞̈́̾e̴̱̽m̵̺͉̏̅b̵̭͒e̶͓̙̔̓͑r̸̨̤͓̚ ̵͎͉̋̀̆t̵̼̺̓́ḥ̴̑̚i̸͇̎̍ș̵̙̪̽ ̵͔̞̀̒̂p̶̦̺͝l̴͉̹̘̑͘͠ȅ̵̥͓͂͝ą̶͗s̴͓̩̹̽̇̇ě̶̲͍̈̍ ̴̥̞͆̓͌m̷̼͛͑ą̸͋͝ͅk̵̺͎̔́ȩ̴̛͈͌̊ ̵̧̠̆į̵̡̛ẗ̵̫̰ ̷̤̕s̵̪̈̇̚ṯ̸͊o̷͖͊͗̎p̸̟̀́ ̷̣̮̮͗m̶̘̂ā̶̞͎͉k̷̜̻̉͛e̴̛̺͕͊̓ ̶̾ͅḯ̴̠t̴͓͍̣͐̌ ̴̜̹̻̑͆̾ŝ̶̲̩̌ṯ̶̹̿̂̀ö̴͖̉͊ṕ̷̠̮ ̷̛̼͌̉m̸̼̭̭̆͘ä̶͙̀͝k̷̭̪̲̄̇ė̵̗ ̷͇̅ị̴̲̈͒͐t̶̝̓̚ ̴̣̹̍͜s̶̞̜͗̽t̵̝̺͌͜ó̶̰̯͎p̴̝̟̗͛͝.̸̬̙͈̀̈́͗

"̷̱̟̎y̶̗͍̋o̷͍̫͛̂u̴̗͊̕ ̸͈̹̫̍̈́d̴̖̰̈́̇i̴̖̿͂̂d̷̦̀̎ ̷̧̡̦̏̋s̷̫͓̺͌̈͒u̵͍͖̅c̶̥̅h̶̗̟̞̐̉̋ ̷̢̛͕̈̏͜a̷̼̠̝̒̒͘ ̵̗̩̋͊̉ǵ̶͙͍́͝o̵̹̓o̷͇̣̲̓d̷͙̒̊̎ ̷̫́͂j̸̱̉̀̓o̶̫̹͌̉͝b̶̤̹͙̈́̐̽"̵͔̓

"Jonah?" James said softly.

"Huh-?" Jonah shook his head, James was carefully dressing him.

"It's going to be alright.." He dusted off Jonah's shoulder before looking up at him. "You're going to walk out there, and you're going to act.. somber.. but stern.."

"And nobody will know w̷͍̙̏͝h̶̳̕a̷͕̺̒̔̅ẗ̷̢̹̩́ ̴̪͖̐͌̂h̵̹̍̃̕ȁ̴̯͉̮ṗ̷̠̞͆̆p̴̳̅̕͠e̸͍̬̓̍n̴͙͉̱͌͐͒ȩ̴̗̄d̵̹̗͍̒" James said, before placing Jonah's crown upon his head.

The coronation went without a hitch, the wedding was shortly after. Jonah ?̸̖͖̣̈̕͝?̵̢̢̤͖͛��̰?̴̘͔̤̼͎̩̑͐̓̓?̷̙͈̪͌͆̅͌̏̍?̶̢͍̜̣̟̓͜?̷̮̝̝̬͑̈̍̈́̊?̶͇̙̐̐͂̏͘͠?̶̣̳͓̖̔̿̀̒̔͠?̶̢͓͚͒͐̈̌?̷͓̲̦̼̃̒̐̆ was fine. He, was able to do a lot more now. He made James his knight, so that the two of them can still spend time together. James, happily accepted this role. It was different now. But, the two of them made it work together.

Dahlia begins... to notice something between the two... But Jonah didn't seem to notice nor care. He just really needed James around. He grounded him in a way no one else could.

A year or so passes, and a plague has taken over the country, and unfortunately Jonah fell deathly ill. For several weeks, Jonah was mostly alone.. as nobody wanted to catch the illness.. It was torture for him, b̸̢̨̢̛̻̬̝̗̤͎̲̭̱̤̦̺̀̑̏͐̓͗͋͘̚͜͝e̷̡̢̧̥̹̹̪͖̝͎̦̼̟͖͕͛̏̍̈͆̓̈́̉́̈́̆̽͘̕͝͝į̷̧̗͇̘̗̼̻͈̖̪̰̩͎̋̆̑̓͒̈́̒̈́̄͜͝͝n̷̡̛̯̲̪͙̥͓͉͇̬͈͔̈͑̌̎͋̄̊͐̔͊̌̂̃͑͜͝g̴̢̧̛͎̤̻̭͍͕̦͔̞͇̺̝͔͉̽̌̚͠ ̶̢̳̬͈̎̾͊̈͆͐͋͒̏̚̚͝͝a̷̡͚̼͎̰̣͕̤͔̓͒́l̴̡̥̬͉͈̹̖̝̤̻͇͚̗̳̹͙̃͐̓͘ǒ̵̢̧͔̺̜͇̻̀̈͛̾͜͝ͅṅ̵̦͎̤̪̗̺͚̃ȩ̸͙̻̥̣̩͙̞̰̑̽̿̄̍͐̾̏̊͛͂͘͝ ̴̧̧̨͚͖̤̬̹̹̰̠̜̼͙̭̎͆͜ͅw̷̳̠͎̯̃͊̔͛̅̈̂͒̀̿̃̑̉̓͒͘i̸̍̈́̉̽͛ͅț̷̩͌̑͝h̵̟̙̙͚̖̟̹̫̥̯̤̩́̔̂͆͊͂̽̿̂̋͂̈͂͌̚͝ ̵̧͖͉̯̠̩̝̼͉͂͒͜͜ẖ̸͍͍̪͇͍̬̱̽̓͗̽̃̓͊̕͜i̷̡̩̳͙̯̰͇͖͇̤̰̳͛̄̈́̓̑̐͝͝ͅş̸̱͇̝͙͙̤̲͇͙̝̳̬̫̅͗̉ ̵̢͉̗̠̔̇̆̋͗͆͋̆͜͝ͅt̶̝̬͓̱͕̦͔̖̻̤͔̙͙͚̅̒͊̏̈́̔̓͊͝h̵͚̳͔̬͓̬͐̿͌̃͌̌͐͛̂ͅǒ̶̡͖̟͎͕̬̝̘̞̻̖̲̈́̂̈̓̓̚͝͠͝ų̶̡̯̪̦͖͖̲͉̟͈̰͉̓͌̏̂̐́̄̏̽̂g̵͎͍̻̩̅̍̈́͂ḧ̸̢̨̝̙͈̺̯̳̯̩́̈́́̂͋͌̃͑̈̚̚͜t̵̮͕̠̰͖̘̻̖̪̻̎̂̄͒̾͐͛̑́̐͠͝s̴̟̥̟̮̺͔͍̽̽̒̅́̔̑̌̓̾̕͜.̶̭͑͗̽̍̀͋̐̇̇̀̄͋

Jonah is broken out of his mind by the sound of his door opening late at night. A man in a mask came in with some sort of liquid in a bowl, Jonah quickly realized it was James. The two of them, had a long conversation about their life, about everything that happened.

James had Jonah drink the concoction he had made, though Jonah doubted it will help much. He was talking to James as if he was going to die.. why would he survive this after all.. James caressed his cheek with a gloved hand. The two of them.. told eachother how much they love one another.. Jonah told James that he would always be his, no matter what. Ṭ̴̙̺͓̹̭́ȟ̵̢̢̩̳̞̩̙̋̀̈̐̐̅͊̌è̸̙̫̗̱͉͚͔̹͍̎̿͜͝ͅ ̸̧̺̺̖̲̹̪͖̬͗̓̂̈́̈́̒̏̀͝͝d̴͍͙̙͙̟̮̝͙̤͍̖̳͔̰͂̉̇́́̎̉̋͘ǫ̸̡̣͓̲̭̯̩̍͛̋̓̀̓̄͌̒̓̿̒̐̕̚͠͝o̶̖̜̼̭̳͍̗̦̱͔͔̠̗̻̫̱͗̾̆͊̒͋̚͜ȑ̵̛̗̱͎͔̙̬̩̣̾́̂̌̇̀̍̌͂̕ͅͅ ̴̣͓̭͈͊̊̓̅̀͑̏͛́̂̓̊w̷̧̢̡̗̦̮̪̝̮̳̰͙͈͍̭̖͓̐̌͂͒̉͆̒̑̒̈́͐͋a̷̧̨̨̻͙̣͙̜̘̝͖̲͓̘̙͛̂͜͝s̸̢̧͈̣͚̤͕̗̠̥̩̥͚͈͍̟̊ͅ ̸̥͓̭̼͈̮͈͈̣̿̊́͑̎̇͛̀̒̒̈͑́̈̚̚ͅs̴͙̗̞͌́̌̑̑̐̈̽͘͠l̸̡̹͙̜̩̻͓͍͍͔̞̟̜̣̖̑̊̊ḯ̵̧̠̲͚͚̣̳͎̳̼̭͈̔̓g̷̝͓̿̓̄͝h̵̛͈͈̠̥͕̍̊̋̀̊͗̆́̀̉͠͝t̵̡̧͕͔͚͔̲͓̮̹̔̋̎̽͝ḽ̶͖͓͛̈͑͂͆̈́̔̽̓̆̑̓͘̚͝͠ÿ̴̛̝̼̟̻̱̗͖́̈́̆́̃̈̂̔͌͗͂̈͝͝ ̶̡̢͇̬̤͍̪̙͇̫̯̻̯͈́̃̽̐̐̔̌͜o̵̩̺̖͇̥̗̥͇̖̲͑p̵͓̳͎̳̩̞̠͍̓̌̾́͑́̑͌̚e̶̯͎̺͆̌͊́̏̈́̒̉̐̀̐̈́̀̈̈̕̚n̵̨̨͔͎͇̥̥̠̱͔̼̥͚̈́̉͜.̶̨̱̱̗̦̜̙̯̩͎̱̪̰̑̆͊̈̓̄̒͝

Jonah, amazingly actually was able to recover from the illness. It genuinely was a miracle. He wondered if James care had maybe actually helped a bit. The two of them continue to live their lives normally. One day the two of them are walking through the castle, chatting about some plans for a banquet they have to throw because of some neighboring kingdoms coming to visit.

Until they are stopped in the middle of the hallway by Dahlia and a few sets of guards. They ?̶̢̘̻̪͎͍͍̈́͌͆̆̅́̎͠ͅ?̷̢̺͔̘̗̰̰̟̮͇̼̼͇̍̒͊̉̈́̐͂͋̆̕͝?̶̨̡̡̺̟̩̥̺̮̬̻̥͎̙̰̩̀̋͑͌͐̽̽̐̌͘?̷̨̢̛̟̯͈͚̭̳͍̯̭̝̣͋͊̋͛̋̇́̓̒̀̑̎́̕͘̕?̴̧̻̙͈̺͔͖͕̟̒̈́̈́ͅ?̸̧̛͔̰̪̺̣̹̰̠̘͙̥̻͛͌͂̓̈̌̒͠ͅͅ?̷̧̞̯̹͛̔́́̒̀͒̔͒̑͐̚͠͝ͅ?̸̧̤̻̮̬̠͖̹̲̗̻͍̼͔̩̖̿̿̆̂̆̓̅́̽͑͝?̵̡̛͈̞̌̏̊̽̑̋͛̏̔̏̃̕?̸̼̩̭̑͌̐͛̄̍͂̉̚͠͝͝?̶̨̼̹̭̬̱͓͉̟̬̭͙̰̙͕̺͛̃̀̅̔̿̈́̋̋͒͛̒͆͌̚̕?̷̡̧̼͎̭͔̹͈̳̹̱̫̯̪͚͛̀͆̈́ͅ?̷̠͕͓͖̼̘̥̰͇̜̻̩̰͇͛̀̊͗́͌́̃͐͝ͅ?̸̣̳͕̼͙͉͙̪̝͕̱͛̎̂̏͛͂̈́̔͆͂̒̂͝?̶͉͉̮͔̤̣̳̜̠͕͈̣̤̣͇̎͂͛̈́̓̂̐͝?̸̨̛̙͇͕̩͇̠̹̙͚̺̳͖̦͗͆̀͌̌̋̒?̴̢̨͚͓͙̤̭̪̥̍̐̈́̈́̐̈́̈́̑̆͌́͝͝?̶̢̨̛̺̭̣̼̬̋̄̃̆͒́́̂̑̔͒̍͒͝͠͝?̸̘̰͔̞͙͉̦̪͜͝?̶̨̡̣̥̺̤̱͊́͝ͅ?̴̰̩̦̆̄̉͊͊̒̆̅̀̍́͜͝͠?̷̭̥̜̭̠̫̪̦̘̦̯͉̫̳͎̯͕̄̉̐͗̓̈́͌̀͗͊͑͑͛̇͗͝. James is. ?̶̢̘̻̪͎͍͍̈́͌͆̆̅́̎͠ͅ?̷̢̺͔̘̗̰̰̟̮͇̼̼͇̍̒͊̉̈́̐͂͋̆̕͝?̶̨̡̡̺̟̩̥̺̮̬̻̥͎̙̰̩̀̋͑͌͐̽̽̐̌͘?̷̨̢̛̟̯͈͚̭̳͍̯̭̝̣͋͊̋͛̋̇́̓̒̀̑̎́̕͘̕?̴̧̻̙͈̺͔͖͕̟̒̈́̈́ͅ?̸̧̛͔̰̪̺̣̹̰̠̘͙̥̻͛͌͂̓̈̌̒͠ͅͅ?̷̧̞̯̹͛̔́́̒̀͒̔͒̑͐̚͠͝ͅ?̸̧̤̻̮̬̠͖̹̲̗̻͍̼͔̩̖̿̿̆̂̆̓̅́̽͑͝?̵̡̛͈̞̌̏̊̽̑̋͛̏̔̏̃̕?̸̼̩̭̑͌̐͛̄̍͂̉̚͠͝͝?̶̨̼̹̭̬̱͓͉̟̬̭͙̰̙͕̺͛̃̀̅̔̿̈́̋̋͒͛̒͆͌̚̕?̷̡̧̼͎̭͔̹͈̳̹̱̫̯̪͚͛̀͆̈́ͅ?̷̠͕͓͖̼̘̥̰͇̜̻̩̰͇͛̀̊͗́͌́̃͐͝ͅ?̸̣̳͕̼͙͉͙̪̝͕̱͛̎̂̏͛͂̈́̔͆͂̒̂͝?̶͉͉̮͔̤̣̳̜̠͕͈̣̤̣͇̎͂͛̈́̓̂̐͝?̸̨̛̙͇͕̩͇̠̹̙͚̺̳͖̦͗͆̀͌̌̋̒?̴̢̨͚͓͙̤̭̪̥̍̐̈́̈́̐̈́̈́̑̆͌́͝͝?̶̢̨̛̺̭̣̼̬̋̄̃̆͒́́̂̑̔͒̍͒͝͠͝?̸̘̰͔̞͙͉̦̪͜͝?̶̨̡̣̥̺̤̱͊́͝ͅ?̴̰̩̦̆̄̉͊͊̒̆̅̀̍́͜͝͠?̷̭̥̜̭̠̫̪̦̘̦̯͉̫̳͎̯͕̄̉̐͗̓̈́͌̀͗͊͑͑͛̇͗͝?̴̼͖̫̎̿̃̊͛̉̏̉̓͂́̌̒̕͘͝ͅ Dahlia comes over to Jonah and hugs him. He looks down at the ground not sure what to say. T̸̛̥̊͐̊̕͝͠h̶̢̡̰̗͚͖̦̔ȩ̵͙̋̾̔͂̓͌̚͜ ̸̡̛̘̥̩̤̥̥̮m̴̡̼̹̔̈͗̚͜ō̶̲̟̯̣̞̑͆̌̓͜͝͠n̵͙͊́͊͋͘s̷͚̟͎̃t̸͖͎̦̰̫̯̺̿̀͑ȩ̴̬͍͓̾͛r̸̺͑̀̆̇́̕͝ ̵̠͇̳̞̌̐͜͝i̶̺͍̻̖̎̌͠s̷̢̲̟̼͊́͋͂ ̶̞̳̫̮̞̃̃̑̐͘͝͝ͅğ̴̡͕̝̀͐̈́̃͛ó̸̤͆̎́̚͠ń̷̲͓ȅ̴̫̀͗.̶̘͎̓́͛͑͜͝͠

Jonah and Dahlia sat upon their thrones as they watched the execution. This was, a quite common occurrence for any royal family. The guards pulled him onto the chopping block, locking the boy in place. Jonah thought about how his mother never let him go to these kind of things. How gruesome they were.

The executioner asked for the prisoners last words. But he said nothing. H̶̢͎̖̳̦̿̓̐͒̍̈́̆e̷̩̔͝ ̸̛̝͎̈͋̈́͝l̴̖̙̯̪̬̭͛̽͐̆ͅo̷̝̫̠̼͇̞̾ͅò̸̦̤̭͔̖̻͚̰k̷̬͎̱͓̯͔̜̱͒̇͗͌͑͋̑e̵̦͎͍̦̳̪̫͍̐͑̀͝d̵͇̊͌̒̄ ̴͇͚͓͇̌̋̄͑̀͛̾͝i̶̢͚͛̓̊̑͘ņ̶̯͇̞̯̥̋́̐t̴̡̧͚̊̓ͅͅo̶̜̬̼̙̺͗̒̅̒͛̒͘͠ ̸͉͍̣̺̗̰̲̿̏͑̂m̵̨̞̓͌̀̆̈́ẙ̵̲̰̊̓͌͗ ̷̨̟͎̱̯̆̈́͑̂ę̷̻̿͑̈́̔̈̒̐͘y̴̛̥͇͓͚̪̟̹͌̒̅̋͐̎e̵͉̩̜͚͓̠͌͆̉̈́s̷̯͍̽̈́͂̅͘̚̕͘ ̸̪͓̀̉ấ̴͙͆ǹ̸̢̦̲̲̣̺̃d̸̮̱͖̼̯̪̜̂͆͋̿́̐̒͠ ̶̗͔̉͘h̸͕͒̎e̴̡̞͕̣͎̦̽̀̉͠ ̶̢̛̩̘̜̊̓͘̚ͅḽ̸͍̪̥͗̽͆̈́̆͒͠o̴̙̲̮͉̺̓̌́̈̑o̸͎̪̤̍̊k̶̛͖̠̰̝͈̩͒̎e̷̛̛̞̯̬̹͎̠͌̿͆̓́͠ḏ̶̱̖̜̔̂́͂͐ ̸̩̳̳̗͈͚̮̙͗̉̓̍̈s̷͇̥̠̥͔̪͓͎̄́ỏ̴̲̜̾ ̵̼̰͆̋̍̏́̄͠b̷̫͇͓̹͙̺̭͛̒͂ȩ̵̯̬̃͝t̵͖̘͙̻͈̭̪͝r̵̛̮͛̽̃̐a̶̖̜̲̮̝̞͂͒̽͑͊̚̚y̴̼̩͒̃͌͆͋͝é̴͉̩̜͎̗́̉̇͋̇̾d̸̟̭̱͛̐͒͝.̶̧͚͕̫̔͊̿̃̌͠

H̶̢̛̖̝͕̦̫͉̠͌̊͘i̵̛̲̠̦̦͈̿͆̓͆͆s̷̫̮̊̓̈́͝ ̶̡͉͇̯̳̦͗h̸̪͙̝̳̣́̍̑͘e̶̫͙̩̼̽̊́͛̒̈́͝ͅa̴̛͇̣d̷̛̯̣̪̺͙͚̎͌͐̓́̕ ̸̯̖̹̯̊̊h̶͈̞̳̦̻̦͋̍̊ḭ̷̡̲͎̤̹̳̰̀̽̓̎̏̕͠t̵̩̀ ̵̡̧̥̙͆̚ẗ̷̢̢̤̩͕́h̴̢̧̝̳̖̪̦̄̔̉̈́e̸̡̟̯̜̞̬̖̪͌͋̉̋̊̕͠͝ ̷̧̺̥͉̄̆̈́͝g̸̺͓͔͕̝̀̿̅̇̈́́͝r̸̹̖͓̬͎̪̲̾͐ͅǒ̷͔̜͖̗̼̻ͅȕ̸̮̮͈̬̘̺̬͜n̴̨͖̰̆́d̸̦͋̀̇́͝.̸̫̳̱͍̣̦̰͎̓̈̐̚

Ḭ̴̯̙̪̘͍̑͊ ̸̞̱͖͇́̄͑̚̕͝ͅḓ̴̢͚͚͖́́̔̿̑͑͘͝o̸̞̠̤͒̿̊̾̚ǹ̵̢̫͈̥̭́̀̔̂́̒̂͜’̷̳̻͔̮̤͗̉͝ͅt̶͇̥͖̘̲̆̿̅̑̔̓̆͝ͅ ̸̨̗̣͔́̂͊̾͒̍k̵͚͓̼̜͒͑̌̋ͅn̶̡̡̯̥̠͖͆̍́̽̋ȯ̶͇̱̮̘̹͍̌̂͜w̵̤̩͑͂̄̈͌̎̚͜ ̴͚͕̼͇͔̂́̀̋̈́͘͝h̸͖̥̟̳̙͖̬̳̍͠ọ̶͈̥̿͋̅̐̄̓͜͝��̬͔͍w̵̛̼̼̝͓͒̾͗͑̌̂̌ ̵̛̮̻̌͐̎͝l̶̢̧͍̪̟̓̔ō̵͎͓̤̰͉̫̰͛̎̏n̷̝̮͎̲̄͝g̴̯̘͒̈ ̶͕̞̓ì̷̞̪̳̩͒̈̔͝ẗ̶͙̲́̂͊̈̊’̵̛̗̏͒̉͂́̇̆s̸̛̥̞͙̞̓̋̌̚͝͝ ̶̢̫̼͗̿̓̈͛̆͝b̸̨̛̼̤̳͍̤͖̹̔̅̍̑̾e̸̳͈̫͇̬͘e̵̡̛̗͖̫͔̙͐͋̍̐͜͜ņ̴͚͇̘̲̪̟͛͜.̵̫̞̟̇̉̈́ ̶͉̮̝̥̓̏̑͗͋̄͠D̵̥̺͓̃͊̾à̴͎y̶̨̙̼̦̝̯͚͂ṣ̷̢͍̱́͆͋̇̐̆̏͠?̸͖͙͔̓̋̓̿͠ ̸͉͍͙̇̒̉́M̵̨͉̪̫̺̀ǒ̶̧̭͙̫̯̞̖̆͊͛͜ņ̸̲̹̦̰̀̐͋t̴͍̘̯̻̆̿͂́h̴̪̺̟̪̗̆̆͛͘ś̴̙͈̺̮̹̒͑͒̽͛̚?̵͖̊ ̸̗̯͒͌͠Ý̵͕̃̈́̀̿̈́̔͘e̶̡̡̺̮̦̩̟̓͛́͝a̷̦͇͓̥̺͉̒̿͗̏̍͠r̷̨̖̻̙̰̳̀͑̍s̶̡̹̬̥͇̫̘̖̾̈́̄̕͠?̸͎̝̤́̆̏͑̈́̔̚͝ ̸̘̮̯̤̯̯̀͆͊͂͐̑͐̒I̵̜̐̓̈̀̆͂̈́͠ ̸̟͔̫͍͇̉͌̃̇̈́͜ç̴͍͓̙͈̯͗̐̉̀̀̋̚a̷̤͍̜͊͆̿͂͌n̴̰̫̦̩̦͋̈͌̑̇̓̏̃’̶̩̞̹̮͕̮̣̈́̕͠͠t̴̥̿̈́͗̀̒̚ ̷̰̇̐͑̓͒̃̈̄s̵̢̜̈́̋̌̈́̋͊l̸̡̗̣̼̣̰͖̫͑̿͑̈́̊̍́e̸̼̙͖̭̾͆͜é̷̘̚͜ͅp̷̡̩͕̹͚̟͔̔̾́̌͆.̴̗͍̖̄̂

Jonah began to wander through the castle aimlessly, tracing the walls with his hand. He had grown up here, he knew it intimately. Į̴̼͍̣̼̀̔̔̅̇͝�� ̶̨̲̌̃ḳ̷̅̓̊̀̽̽̈́̃͜͜ḛ̷̡̣̿̒ͅę̶̼̆p̴̢̤̯̙͌̒̿̓̉͘͝ͅ ̵̨͗̌̋̏͘h̷̘̮̝̗̱̯̑̀e̵̥̯̭̔͊ḁ̷͔̰̻̝̀͆̏̈́r̶͙̱̖̙̟̓̽͑̕ͅḯ̶̠͉̼͝ň̵̯̭ģ̴͈̼͚͙̻̰̐̓̌͘ͅ ̶̼̺̬̞̲̖͎̖͗̒̅i̶͇͕͕̓̽̕t̷͙͓̳͗̈́̃.̸̡̣̼̠͗̈́̑̽͋͘ ̶͑͜͝O̶̫̟̽͂̊̈́͌͠͝v̷̲͈̻̯̩̊̃̽͂̀̐̀ḙ̵̦͕̝̤̗̇r̵̢̡̗̫̖̙͓̻͋̑̓̈́̉̋ ̴̨̙͓̣͗͆̂̋̏͘͠͠ä̷̛͉͖͇͇̞̂n̵̼̺̜̫̝͛̈́̍̒͐d̵̨͕͚̳̪̣̾͜ ̶̛̳́̎͆̅̂̐o̵̻͓̻͌̇͂v̶̧̡͎̣͍̐́͠ë̴͓̞̲̬͈́̂̿̔̕ŕ̴͇͇̠̬̤̟̜̙͆̄̃̓̈ ̷̢̡͔̥̖̞̂̽̔̓̏̌̊͌a̷̡̗̗̰̩̦͋̏̎̊͐͑̚͘n̴̢͔͕̹̯͋͐d̶̨͈̽̑̈́͌̍̎͠ ̸̢̦̻̪͚̋̂́̒o̷̢͍͚̭̠̱̼̓͐̌̀v̴̧͙̐̄̋̎̀̇̄͝e̵̡̡͇̠̗̣̖̓͆̀̕ͅr̶̹̣͕͗̉ ̶͎̫̽a̸̢̜̜̘͖̖͙͠g̷̠̞̺̞̟͉̪̽̒́̎̓̆͘͘a̴̡̛̫̥̩̳̫̪̺̋͊̆͐̽͑i̸̛̦͈͚̿̉̆͊̓͘͠ṇ̸̻̫̦͈͕̓̐͗̈̍̌͊͠.̶̧̳̳̳͖̖̇̾̒͜

I̶̘̟͛̓̈̿́͋͠ ̴̱̐̈̌͒͌̕ḩ̶̛͚̘̱̝͈́̒͝a̵̛̲͓͛̏̄̃̓ț̴̨̖̅͗͆e̸͎̔̅ ̷̻̝̃̈̋̃͊͌̕͘m̴̪̟̫̱̟̙̝̀̀̏̀̅͊ͅỳ̴̼͈̯̦̭́̋̇ș̷̬̳͍̘͇̏͠e̷̛̳͎̙̓̑̌̏l̵̤͖͓̼̂̄̀͂̅̕f̵̧͓̺̪̜̤͈̖̏͊.̷̯̪̳̼̖́̄̀̇̋͐ ̴̤̘̫͍̗̩̺̈̽̈́͐I̷̧͍͙͎̯̣̎̀̄̓ͅ ̵̒̂̿̒̇̉͘͜͝h̶̢̺̗̝̠̬̥͒̾a̵̛̰̣͔̗̫̐̀̂͒̓̕t̸̢̢̲̰͈̟̲̳́̎̿̒̿̂͝e̶̻̪̠̭̬͌̽̈́̀̾͛̉ͅ ̵͇̥͉̩̝̑́e̸̠̻̯̣̕v̸̛̞͒̀̈́̔̕͝e̶̲͎̬̻̗̞̰̱͑r̷̰̍́͑̀͒̌y̷̘̱̩̰̝̞̬̓̎̕͝t̶̘̳̤̩͕̫̥̠͌̉̾̄̋͋̚͝h̵̺̩̳̥͇̣̹̑̈́̅͊̊̑͜į̴̰̳̀́̒̓̀ͅn̷̡͔͉͉̆͐̅͊͘g̶̜̪͙͚̀̋̀́͝ ̷̛̬̥͎̈́̆̏͝ḁ̸̮̹̮̿͂̽͐̋̌̈́̚b̵̲̠̖͎͖͌̍̐̋͋͝ͅö̵̤̪̬̖͎̖́̃̆͂̈̀̆ū̷̡̙̩̹̘͙͇́͝ṱ̶̌́͌̅̓͝ ̴͓͙̻̰͙͆́m̶̨̂̔̊͒͘͘̚e̶̡̡̫̗̣̟͊̌̏͂̕͝.̶̢͙͎̝̘͇̝̿̂̌́̕͝͠ Ḯ̸̫̲̪̳̲ ̴̠̲͈̅r̶̡̮͇͕̝̫̣̓́̒̀́͠͠͝è̴̯͓̭̙͝a̴̧̡̘̤̒́̈́̓͘͜c̵̡͈̤͍̰͈̍͆̓͜͜͝ḩ̵͔̙̞͉͗̏̽̿͊͌͊̃ͅ ̶̬͈͔͎͒̚͝f̸͖̿̔ó̸̺̻r̶̭̍͒̽̚ Ḯ̸̫̲̪̳̲ ̴̠̲͈̅r̶̡̮͇͕̝̫̣̓́̒̀́͠͠͝è̴̯͓̭̙͝a̴̧̡̘̤̒́̈́̓͘͜c̵̡͈̤͍̰͈̍͆̓͜͜͝ḩ̵͔̙̞͉͗̏̽̿͊͌͊̃ͅ ̶̬͈͔͎͒̚͝f̸͖̿̔ó̸̺̻r̶̭̍͒̽̚ ̷͔͚͈͇̬̥̏͑̂̅͋̕͘͜͜͝t̵͕͈̘̂̈́̎͌͝ḫ̵̯̖͑̽̀́̄e̷̥̜͇̔̓̐̅͆̐͛ ̵͕̪̟͎͙̻̍c̴͉̠͆̃̈́͗ắ̵̢̞̪͖̠͒͜n̷͍̭̭͚̠͎̲̓̏̒͆͊̆̆̚͜d̷̛͍̺̲̤̈̒̓̈́̃̋̚ẹ̶̰̰̰̹͑͛̀̕͝l̴̙͙̀̉̕͝͝ḁ̵̙̎̉̓͌͑͑͐̉b̵̬͖̆̕r̶̲̰̤͇̦̦̕͜ͅả̸̡̳̳͉̹̦̬̖̐͘,̵̝̂ ̴̳͈̉̑̈̈́̊͝ͅͅI̷͚͓̖̭̣̩̽̃ ̷̭͙͉̔̉r̸̩̹̳̗̩͍̙̿̉̊͑͑͑̐́è̷̱̔̄a̶̗͈̪͒̏͝ĉ̸̜͔̠̙͙̒̒̎͆̿͌̚͜ẖ̷̡̩͉̦̓̈́ ̶̰́̑̾̊̎̓̔͋f̸̡̧̯̹͙̣̟͕́̏̇́͛̈̚ő̶͈̘̼̠̠̂̔̿̚̕͝ŗ̷̱͚̘̋̉́̽͘̚͠͝ ̵̤̼͊t̷̡̺̣̦̙͓̄͊̄̈́͜h̷̗̠̳̠̞͓̮̍̈̿e̵̼͌͐̅̌̊ ̸̨̛̬̩͖̽̍͛̑͘c̸̻̬̼̟̳̣͇̭͆͂͗͂̚͝ȧ̵̟͚͉̙͊̈́̈́̑͌͑̕n̵̖̟̹̻̽̚d̶̛͓̥̋͗̽͑͘ẹ̴̲͖̌͂̊l̴̛̮̲̳̥̼̞͗̿̉̄́́̒͜a̴͔̮͔̻̣̹̋̀̏͋͠b̷͖̩͔̩͚͔̂̔̉͗r̵̢̦̻͗̄a̵̡̨̞̤̰͙̦̾̃.̴̳͂͆́͌̓̐̚͘ ̷͔͚͈͇̬̥̏͑̂̅͋̕͘͜͜͝t̵͕͈̘̂̈́̎͌͝ḫ̵̯̖͑̽̀́̄e̷̥̜͇̔̓̐̅͆̐͛ ̵͕̪̟͎͙̻̍c̴͉̠͆̃̈́͗ắ̵̢̞̪͖̠͒͜n̷͍̭̭͚̠͎̲̓̏̒͆͊̆̆̚͜d̷̛͍̺̲̤̈̒̓̈́̃̋̚ẹ̶̰̰̰̹͑͛̀̕͝l̴̙͙̀̉̕͝͝ḁ̵̙̎̉̓͌͑͑͐̉b̵̬͖̆̕r̶̲̰̤͇̦̦̕͜ͅả̸̡̳̳͉̹̦̬̖̐͘,̵̝̂ ̴̳͈̉̑̈̈́̊͝ͅͅI̷͚͓̖̭̣̩̽̃ ̷̭͙͉̔̉r̸̩̹̳̗̩͍̙̿̉̊͑͑͑̐́è̷̱̔̄a̶̗͈̪͒̏͝ĉ̸̜͔̠̙͙̒̒̎͆̿͌̚͜ẖ̷̡̩͉̦̓̈́ ̶̰́̑̾̊̎̓̔͋f̸̡̧̯̹͙̣̟͕́̏̇́͛̈̚ő̶͈̘̼̠̠̂̔̿̚̕͝ŗ̷̱͚̘̋̉́̽͘̚͠͝ ̵̤̼͊t̷̡̺̣̦̙͓̄͊̄̈́͜h̷̗̠̳̠̞͓̮̍̈̿e̵̼͌͐̅̌̊ ̸̨̛̬̩͖̽̍͛̑͘c̸̻̬̼̟̳̣͇̭͆͂͗͂̚͝ȧ̵̟͚͉̙͊̈́̈́̑͌͑̕n̵̖̟̹̻̽̚d̶̛͓̥̋͗̽͑͘ẹ̴̲͖̌͂̊l̴̛̮̲̳̥̼̞͗̿̉̄́́̒͜a̴͔̮͔̻̣̹̋̀̏͋͠b̷͖̩͔̩͚͔̂̔̉͗r̵̢̦̻͗̄a̵̡̨̞̤̰͙̦̾̃.̴̳͂͆́͌̓̐̚͘

When Jonah awoke, he was in a courtroom. He tasted A̷̭̗̅s̸̢̱͍͓͍̤̙̈̏̏͌̂̈͠h̶͎͇͋̈̓̓̇́̾̕ͅ in his mouth. He seemed to have made an audience with the gods. A tall figure dressed in a black cloak stood before him, along with several other godlike beings. Jonah remembered feeling nervous, having all these eyes upon him.

The god in the cloak asks Jonah if he wants to admit the sins he’s committed. To face the crimes and horrors that have happened in his life because of his own two hands.

Jonah snapped into a performance, he begged and pleaded, he said he was sorry. H̴̯̒̏̇ͅë̴̞̦̻̺̙̣́̉͂̉͜ ̸̧̧̞̝̘̚w̶̢̡͔͓͕̏̑̃͌̎̎ͅä̷̯̯̜́̍̏̎̉ͅš̵̲̮̱͕͎͋͑̾̋̄̊̾ņ̵̡̫͕̤̽̌̾͐͜͠’̴̖͙̽͌t̴͇̠̤̖͙͙̱͐̍͑ ̶̙̩̟̿̀s̸̛͈̠̅̍̿͆͆̕͝ó̶̢̢̥̥̌͆̌̋͒ͅṟ̸̖̜͕̤̝̎̇̒́̉͂͐̓r̶̨̧͇̮͈̩͛̓̎̃̆̚͠y̷̬͙̎.̵̛̥͙̫̭̝̥̺͆͆͋̍̽̓͜He balanced his arms and head on the podium, looking downwards. I̸̞̣̻̜̯̅̈́̈́ͅͅ ̶̛͈͓͖͇̭̗̇r̷̢̘̖͙̜͕̗͂̈́̒̌ȇ̵̹̣̺̪͍̹̓̏̾̈́m̵̛͙̟͍̯̟̫͖̂̊͑͝e̵͓͕̗͐̎͑m̴̦̲͕̱͠ḃ̴̼͎̯͕̦͋̕͝e̶̺̼̝̝̩̝̒̀̊̀̎͌́r̷̳͖͇͠ ̷̖͌͌̆̚͘s̸̗̪͘m̸̥̜̟̣̼̹̟̆i̶̬̫̾̈̄̆ļ̷̼͓̳̹̳̇͗̋̊́ǐ̸̼̹̤̪͔̣͙̲̊́̈́n̶̰̒̈̀̈̽̂͘ǵ̴̲͓̆̊̅̊͠,̶͈̪͙̖͙̃ ̷̰̯̯̻͈́̌͠ț̸̮̆͆̉̐̒h̶̢̖̣̣̣̺́̀̈́͜ͅï̴̯ṋ̴͎̓k̵̯͐̑͛ĩ̷͍̜̻͚̍n̶̜͖̞͔̫͙̉̐͂̅͛̿̑͊g̴̡͙̔̈̆̑̍͒͝ ̶̦͕́̄ì̴͉̣̲̩͕̟̮͂͐̕͜ṫ̴̝̱̳̼̬̜̖͋̏͘ ̶̢̨̨̛̛̬ḣ̶̹̩̠͙͎͇̈́̌̽̅̀̚ͅͅạ̸̗̝̝̑́̏̂̈́d̷̙̠͈̻͉͖̾ ̶̡͙̜̪̰̩͐w̶̨̬̼̫̰̗͒͑̇͆͋̉̓ǒ̵̧̰̩͚̩͎͚̪̔̋͌͝r̸̙̘̮͚̃̔̽̒͌͒͠͝k̶̫̯̟͑̈́e̵̢̬͊̑̏̅͝ḑ̵̜̲͚̳̦̟̰̾̚.̵̢̥͖̘̺̩̄̚

B̶̧̗̗̼̤̰̏̄͗u̸͎̱̖̽́̂̾̆̕t̶̰̠̠̉͋̈́ ̸̗͉͖̠̼̳̘̔͋ḧ̸̠̺̜̰̭́ȇ̶͕̖̟͉ ̸̪̺̈̀̾͗͆̌͑͘s̴̢̼̈́̋̈́͜͠ȁ̸̟̰͉͈͙̰̺̖̏́́w̷̲̖͓̋̈́̈̊͂͘ ̴̡̧̮͎̹̗̥̐ṯ̶͎̩͌ḫ̸̘̟͎͓̰̻͛̿͛̉̆̈́r̵̺̪̣̘̖̖̈͒̾̈͜o̷̜̼̙̽̎̒̂̿̿͑͝u̷̳̤͚̻̮̻͙̥͋͋̈̅͆ǧ̵̢̖͚͚̅̌͠h̴̛̳́̈́́́͆͒̔ ̶͍̻̦̻̠̌̐ͅm̵̧̟̮̣̣̙̉͊͛ẹ̸̪̬̙̤͉̞̭͂.̶̨͈̰͈͉͑̚ Y̴̗̩͍̻̯̰̻̓̉ỏ̸̘͖̹̫̇̏̓̎̊͊̆ȗ̵̧̗̀͋̕̕̕ͅ ̸̫͖̻̻̣̫̹͋̎̋͒̐̉̚̕c̶̨̫̳̈́̽̐̓́̃̂͐â̶͇͖̘̣͚̅͂͝n̵̨͍͍͕̋̈́̌͑̕͜n̸͕̩͖̩̺̟͝o̴͉̪̝̯͎͈̥͗͋̀̇̂̈̚͠t̴̝͍̗̎͋̈́͗͑͂͆ ̶̨͖̯̠͛̓͒̊̚e̷̱̽͌̾̔̀͒̕ͅş̶̈́̀̈́̋̈̀̊̈c̷̪͉̎́a̶̛͖̳͓͆͒̏͝͝p̸̡̫͛̈́̀̅̓̍͌ë̶̬́̌͊̅̚͜͠ ̴̻͇̲̆̏͒̋p̷̞͍̺̂͒̄̕̕ṳ̴͛͐̔̓́̕n̵̨̛͇͈͕̥̲̦͂̓̚ḯ̵̲̈́͒ş̴̯̕h̸͖̮̄͗̌͒m̶̢̖̪̮͓͛̇̈́̊̏é̷͕̖̪̖̲̎̇̓̚n̶̢̦͍͑͌̌t̸͇̖̟̩̃̑̈̉͝ ̴̩͎̃͝t̵̤̾̈́h̴̛̥̤̟̤̄͐̓̈́͊̂͘r̸̯̂̓̎͆̒ǫ̴̡̧̧̢̰̠̎̆ǘ̴̪̳̗̭̫͛̈́̃͘͠ͅg̴̘̩̮͇̑͆̇̉̈́͝͠h̶̛̤̜̏̆̂ ̶̢̩̺͉͎͕̣̈́̇͊̊̀ͅd̵̗͒̆̓̀̑̔ĕ̸̛̞̩̰̠̪̎͒͗ͅä̵͖̺͎͉̠̹́̌͆͊̊̒̓̈ͅt̵͙͚̮̦̄͑̇͝h̴̺͎͐͗̿͛̕.̵̟̟͎̥̣̪͐̀ ̷͈̅̇F̸̺̲̻̟̜̀̓̕o̵̧̭͖̤̮̒͐ͅr̴̖̦̉̚ ̷̐̆͋̓̈̅��̻h̷̳͊̂̓̄͌͝e̵̬̗̺̯̝̭͘ͅ ̸̳͖̻̏́͋̉ị̴̱̪̯̦͉͔̗̉̉͑̈́͋̚͝s̸̨̨̲͓̭͈̗̾̿͊̆͛̽̌͝ ̷̦̟͊̀́̃t̵͇̻̙̤̣̪̬̠̀̊́̂͑h̸͇̊͌̄̋̆̾͘e̷̛͖̲͙͇͈̻̜̗̊͒̿̆͝͝ ̷̣̀̎̅͝j̴̦͈̚ų̶̼͚̫̪͖͊̀̕d̴̗͔͖̜̲̬́͆̂͌́̃̆̊g̶̙̖̮͈̣̣̿̋̅e̸̥͋̃̂,̸͇̬͎̟̱̠͉̮̒̎̎͋́̓̚ ̵̡̗̙̼̼̯̋̈́͜ͅj̸̤̬͎̬͗̉̀̚͝ṵ̸̧̧̳̼̮̤̜̆̌̊́̈́̎r̴̝̟̔̀͛̎̈̈̕y̴̧̹͙̠̫͓͂̓,̴̧͒̂́̽̚͝͝ ̶̧͚̖̼̗͊̔͒̃̏͂͋a̵̢̨̛͎̝͍͛̌̾̔͐̐n̷̛͆͜͠͝d̴͎͍͈̮̤̑ ̷̢̗̭̗̱̟̪̿̿̽̒̾͜ȇ̶̛͚̫̀͋̍͂̅x̷͍͍̩̱̤͋̀͌͠e̸̥͇̙̳̊̑̉̇̈́̕c̵͇̝̖͓̖͛̌̀̂͊u̴̘͙̻̩̺͝t̶̟̰͕͗̓͐͑̆̅̕i̸̢͎̜̣̞̟̘͓̍̎͌̋͐̋͝o̵̰̅͌͂̈́́͠͝n̷̜̲͖͉̬̓̒e̸̛̮͇̲͍͎̫̫̋̋̇̾r̴̪̾̊.̸̢̨̦̹̱͕̣̏͑͂̈́

Jonah panicked. J̸̫͑́ơ̵̺͑̿̃n̴̨̧̛͗̂̓̈́̈́̒ȃ̶͖̺̖͕̐̆h̴͍͗͗̃͗̚ ̶̠̻̰̄̃̀̋̔p̵̮̻̯͘̕ä̴̛͔̥͕̥̭̩̥́̇̄̾̚͝n̷̞̓̔͝i̸̬̯̮̭͉̦͆̀̈́̏̒̄͝c̸̜̾̓̍̐̒̄̀ķ̸̥͇̰̙̲̾ȇ̷͕̺̟̤̿̀͛̃͘̚d̵̢̛̠̣̙͖̐̑͒͜.̵̼̉̈ J̸̫͑́ơ̵̺͑̿̃n̴̨̧̛͗̂̓̈́̈́̒ȃ̶͖̺̖͕̐̆h̴͍͗͗̃͗̚ ̶̠̻̰̄̃̀̋̔p̵̮̻̯͘̕ä̴̛͔̥͕̥̭̩̥́̇̄̾̚͝n̷̞̓̔͝i̸̬̯̮̭͉̦͆̀̈́̏̒̄͝c̸̜̾̓̍̐̒̄̀ķ̸̥͇̰̙̲̾ȇ̷͕̺̟̤̿̀͛̃͘̚d̵̢̛̠̣̙͖̐̑͒͜.̵̼̉̈ J̸̫͑́ơ̵̺͑̿̃n̴̨̧̛͗̂̓̈́̈́̒ȃ̶͖̺̖͕̐̆h̴͍͗͗̃͗̚ ̶̠̻̰̄̃̀̋̔p̵̮̻̯͘̕ä̴̛͔̥͕̥̭̩̥́̇̄̾̚͝n̷̞̓̔͝i̸̬̯̮̭͉̦͆̀̈́̏̒̄͝c̸̜̾̓̍̐̒̄̀ķ̸̥͇̰̙̲̾ȇ̷͕̺̟̤̿̀͛̃͘̚d̵̢̛̠̣̙͖̐̑͒͜.̵̼̉̈ J̸̫͑́ơ̵̺͑̿̃n̴̨̧̛͗̂̓̈́̈́̒ȃ̶͖̺̖͕̐̆h̴͍͗͗̃͗̚ ̶̠̻̰̄̃̀̋̔p̵̮̻̯͘̕ä̴̛͔̥͕̥̭̩̥́̇̄̾̚͝n̷̞̓̔͝i̸̬̯̮̭͉̦͆̀̈́̏̒̄͝c̸̜̾̓̍̐̒̄̀ķ̸̥͇̰̙̲̾ȇ̷͕̺̟̤̿̀͛̃͘̚d̵̢̛̠̣̙͖̐̑͒͜.̵̼̉̈ J̸̫͑́ơ̵̺͑̿̃n̴̨̧̛͗̂̓̈́̈́̒ȃ̶͖̺̖͕̐̆h̴͍͗͗̃͗̚ ̶̠̻̰̄̃̀̋̔p̵̮̻̯͘̕ä̴̛͔̥͕̥̭̩̥́̇̄̾̚͝n̷̞̓̔͝i̸̬̯̮̭͉̦͆̀̈́̏̒̄͝c̸̜̾̓̍̐̒̄̀ķ̸̥͇̰̙̲̾ȇ̷͕̺̟̤̿̀͛̃͘̚d̵̢̛̠̣̙͖̐̑͒͜.̵̼̉̈

J̵̙̞̎̈́̽ỏ̶̜͍̝̊n̶̺̱͙͙̞̅͜ȧ̵̻̫̞͉̳̿̑̍ͅh̵͚̏̋̍ ̶̟̼͉͓̜̗̦̂̀̓̊́̅̇l̶̦̪̰͇̫̒̏̈́ǫ̵̼͔̟̦͂͐̕ȍ̵̧̧͈̹̙͙̾k̶̢̡̘͓̥͈̳͑̈́͌̋ę̶̣͚̟͛͊̓̈́͂̒d̷̬̑͂̃ ̷̹̬̬̼͒́̃̀̔͒̇d̷̢̫̩͓̝̉͗͑̐̍͊͜ơ̷̡͓̐̃̍̀w̸̰̓͊̊͗͛͝n̵̤͚͖͝͠ ̷̡̠̩̋͐̉͑͐̂̓͝ä̶̠̜̰̙̯̗̤͔́̊͆ţ̸͈͉̭̃̾̋̓̂̅̿͝ ̴̲̰̯̏t̵͔̹̆̍̚͠ḩ̸̲͓̘̞̩̤̍̈́̂͆e̴͑̽̑̄̎̉̾ͅ ̵̢̛̫̈́̀̃̃s̶͍͇͔͖͓̣̞̓̿̐̏̉̆͠í̴̖̗̬̱̬͚̬͂̇̓l̵̨͕̮͕̥̟̲̻̂̿͊͒̏̾͘v̵̧̧̫̩͒e̵͇̪͈͙̙̟̫͒̈r̵̪̞̎͆̾͌ ̴̥̞͕̹̳̻̎̈͒̈̐̑̐͠b̸̭̰̥̞̭̩̺̙̈́l̷̙͉̱̪͕͇̟̃ȍ̶̧͚̣͉̣͉̣̑̚ó̴̫͉̻̜͎̤̥̽̔d̷̡̧̿̾̎͒͝͠͝ ̵̙̣̙̼͆̈ö̸̢̲̹̪̦̙̓̍͗͗́͌́ͅn̴̦͕̄̀̄̔̐̏̚ ̶̥̪͈͗̈́͂̉̓̕h̸̡̙̫͕̒͛̋̂̀̽̚ḭ̷̟̘̰͑̎͒̓̾͝͝s̴̨̛͔̗͈͕̥͍̆ ̵̧̹͕̘̉̈͂̃̀͠ḩ̷̣̺͉̰̔̈́́̇̕ͅå̶̧̢̙͚̃͊̈̾n̷̖̥̗̙̠͚̑̇ḑ̵̨̛͇̈́̍̀͆̍͜s̵̪̫̫̗̿̽̒̊̈̚͜ͅ ̵̛̝͍͚̎̓͒̇̀͝a̴͔̰͔̦̓̚͝ͅn̴̜̞͎͚͖̤̅̄ḑ̷͇̖̜̰̥̗̮͒ ̷̏́́̃͑̈ͅh̷̨̡̫͈̥͍͕̽̄̀ě̷͔͈̕͠ ̷̺̪̲̟̺̬͈̓̓͌̕ͅc̵̜̦̱̲̙̞̐̑͊͘l̷̙̪̭̟̫̗̫̈ͅụ̷̧̧̭̣̱̋͝ͅt̷̯͔̩̫̅̓c̶̜͕͒̚̕h̵̢̛̘̗̯̱̻̬̎̍̀̄̓̑̉e̶̱̹͑͝d̴̛̟̉ ̸̢̳̭̺̞̘̱̀͐t̵͓̣̿̂̈́̔͊̑͘͝h̵̡̧̖̲͇́͘͜e̷̤̟̎̌ ̶̧͔̥̃̋̕e̵̢̢̼̘̼̽̄͑͊̋̑̈́̑m̵͙̼̤̈́̽͒̀̄ͅb̴̥̲̭̺̜͑̓͆͘l̴̬̭͚̗̘̄̉ë̷͔͍̘́͐̽͗͂̀͝m̸̜̲͚͙̫̱̰̈̒̈̏͛̈́ͅ ̴̛̛̺̯͚̭̖̱̰͗̀̄͠ͅa̵̲͂͌͐̇͆̈́n̷̦̈́͛̋̇͘d̵͈̘̦͇̥̱̺͒͑̃͆̽͂̿̚ͅ ̶͔̪̪͇͔̞̂ͅp̴͔̤͚̣̞͖̺̊͆͆̀̐̚ḽ̸̘͕̑͌͗̀á̴̩̑̓͆ç̵̨͋̒̂̌͆͘̕ͅé̵͎̎̐̍̈́͗͝d̴̟̎ ̶̨̛̜͕̙͚̈i̸̧̝͚̯̩͉̜͋̾͊̈́̀͐̆͝t̷͔̭̟̮̰̞͉͋ ̶̧͙̩̫̫͝ͅḭ̴͑͂̋̎̋͝͝͝n̷̳͖͊̽̃̂̌͌̔̾ ̶̲͖͉̻͗̾̏̔h̵̢̤̬̝̫͍̻̐ỉ̵̬̅̽̚s̵͚̘̦̥̹̒̎̀̈́̕͘ ̷̢̤̹̮͍̯̩̌̅̿̎c̷̛̤͚͗̌̓̓ͅͅh̷͕̲̫͍̮͉̘̥͑̃ę̶̥͙͔̻̍ͅs̷͖̱͒̋t̶̟̭͓̊̅͋̓͝.̵̪͈͐̇̀͘ ̴̧̡͇̰̇̃̈́̈́T̸͈̊͊̓͊͑̓̓͘h̵͕̙͚̹͈̥͌̔͘ȩ̵̤̇͋ ̴̰͒̿͑̓͐̄̾g̸̲͍͙̥͐o̸̟̾ḑ̷̪̱̬̲͓͕̏̂̌̇͑́͘̚s̵̭̲̼̈̾̋ ̷̡̢̣͚̩́̉̔͒̈́͜t̸̡͝r̴̘̳̱̖̰̞̬̺̾̐͂̀i̴̢̛̙̤̬̻̲͛̔́̇͑̽ͅe̷̡̬̣̝̺̝̅͂̂͜d̶͔͈̲̪̬̫̭̬͆̉ ̶̛̟̝̫͐͑ͅț̶̖͕̪̹̘̬̒͗͛̿̚̕͝͠o̶̳͈̞̭͉̗͛͆̏͘̚͝͝ ̷̨̟̳͇͆̓̓̿͘͠͠r̶̩̗̻̥͔͑̆̒̓ẻ̴̲͍̳̣̠͎̙̃̅̓͋͒̈́͆ͅs̶̡̪̠̱͕̺̟̿̏̓t̷̲̳̹̮́̉ṟ̴̛̣̳̰͇̈́͆̅̅̿ä̷̞̙̙͎̺̓͗̔́͘ȉ̷̩̤͓̹̮̮̼͊̃̕ͅn̸̨͗̔̈́̎̇͘ ̴̱̱̋̏͆́h̵̹̖̿̈́̅̔̆̄͠ì̶̖̣̫̖̚m̵̰͂̅-̶̬͔̉̆̀̋͜

T̴̢̨̕h̵͙̫͊̆́ë̴̡̱̗͔͂y̶̮͚͓̔̾̍̒ ̶̛̜̦̈́ͅt̸̖̜͇͚͗͋́͂h̵̹͖̖̝͗̈́͑̕r̶̤̖̯̥͆ë̵͍̼́̃͝͝w̷̘̄͐̈́͘ ̸̛̭͙͈͖m̶̢̈́̃e̷͖͔͓͠ ̷̞̫͖̓i̶̝̺̓́n̶̠̪̹̒͜t̴̛̳͑͝o̶͕̩̔͠ ̴̼̻̀̑̈́͘t̵̫̻̥̱͋́̆̍h̶̺̤̆̐ę̴̛͓ ̸͇͋̍́ȑ̴̲í̷̧͖̼͎̍͝v̵̢̥͚͖̒́̈e̴̡̛̠̩r̸̢̢̘̃̐̑͜.̶̨̧̲̖̇ ̸̳̳̗̣̍̂͝Ī̴̗͠ț̵͎̾̍͊ ̴̧̦̲͘͠ẁ̶̛̩̚á̸̧͎̗̗̂s̶̤̈́̑̓ ̶̥̱̖͂͊͜s̴͕̻͈̓o̵͈̱͚̓͛ ̴̡́̽̕c̸͖̋ơ̵͉͚͑͑͝ḷ̷̔̅͋͛d̷͕̐̈́.̶̯͗̇ ̶͖͍̲̊A̷̦̥̔l̸͎̲̾͌̅l̷̮̯̼̂͛́ ̶̳́̑̓̊Ḭ̵̧͇̳̽̀͝ ̴̘̈͆͆c̸̤̱̺̭̊͌̃͝ǫ̴̧͔̍͗̊̂u̴̜̘̦̙͂l̷̤̬̽̅̂d̷̛̜̗͉͔͐ ̵̟̥͚̩͛̕͝͠h̶̡̩̼̲̓͒̒ȅ̴̢̡͕͈͆͋̇à̷̮̖̼̏̽̕r̵̺͌̉̈́̕ ̸̨̅͜w̸̮͙͐ë̸͇̼͕͍́̐̃̉ŕ̷͍̲͒̕é̵̺̈́̾͠ ̷͇̤͋̓s̴̤͆c̶͎̣͔̿ṛ̸͍̘͝e̸̙͗̈́̐̈́ắ̴͙̌̚m̵̪̾ŝ̸̫̖̃͂ ̶͇̟͉̟̐͛͒͐a̴̺̻̙͆̂ǹ̵̮̺̩d̸̮͛ ̸̺̬͈̚t̴̳̻̺͂͂̕͝ḫ̶̂͝͝e̷̬̤̓͋̓y̶̛̺͕͇͗͒̌ ̷̨̥͐͂̂̾ẇ̸̺̾̽̐e̵̘̘̲̰͋r̷̛͙̻̙̈͘e̴͓̜̓ ̶̢͙̊ā̶̚͜ḻ̷̝̼͙̒͐͋l̷͔̹̫̀̈ ̸̼̟̼̓́͑g̵̯̦̞͛r̸̦̪̩̀̈́a̵̱͇̾̀s̴̥͊̈͒̏p̶̤̻̓̀́̚i̷͙̖͓̖̓̊ṋ̶̡̞͓̀̾̇g̸̮̠̰̼̀̆͘ ̴̲̦͊͑̌́ḿ̸̢͚̖͗̽e̷͉̻͚͙͋̌͛.̷̱̪̝͇͌̍̅ ̷͖̼̥͑Ị̸͕͎̏͜ ̴̢̫͔̘́́̀̅c̵̨͉̺̉ǫ̸̓͂ŭ̵͚͌̕l̴̛̘̮d̶̰̼͋̿́̌ǹ̷͉̩̀̑̚’̴̨̭̻̬́̅̒̐t̸̗̱̆̈̑ ̸̗̥̠͖̓̊̚d̵̲͓͐͌̒̌i̶̜͌͌e̷̛̞̪͊͝.̵̯͍́̔̏̄ ̷̡̟͎̑̉͠Ẁ̶̩̾ḩ̷̲̘̮̅y̵̖͖͔̬̐ ̴̠͍̏č̸͙̱̪o̸̬̖̎̉ȕ̴̥̇̆͋l̴̩͍̈͊̅͗ḍ̸͔̗̞̾̓̏ň̷̨̦̻͎̅͝’̷̯̐͑t̴͕͍̆̾͌ ̷̼́Ȉ̶͚͉̺͒͐̄ ̷̡̟̣͑̀̋͛d̴͚͂̽̀͝i̵̩͒̚ḛ̵̱̫̰̃͌.̵̨̲̯͖̀̋̑ ̸̙̻͍̄̇W̶͎̊̓͂ḥ̷̽͗̾͝y̸͕͍͓͋͊ͅ ̵̞̓c̵̟͇̎̈o̸͖̹̾̓̈́̇ủ̸̯̣̻̭l̵̲̲̰͕̉͊͑d̵͕͖̗͐́̾͝n̷͊̋͜’̷̺̖̮̋̅͛ṫ̷̪̥̼̒̓̎ͅ ̸̛̯̹̎͘I̶̧̺̓ ̴̨̅̋̐͝ḍ̷̮̄̽̕͘i̷̡͕͔͈̓e̵̱̚.̸͈̆̇͊͝ ̸̯͖̑̃̾̂Ẇ̸͕̤͜ḥ̶̛̪̞̆͂́͜ỳ̶̗̩͝ ̶̨̤̌̅̿c̵̭͍͖͕̀̔o̷̱̗͝ú̴͓̫͚̊ͅl̵̞͚̈́d̶͕̫̿n̶͈̮̭̩͆’̶̟̟̦̒t̷͔̙̼͆ ̶̤̲̓́I̵̥͔͋ ̸͓̙̥̊̌d̶͓͋͐͋̚ĩ̶̧ͅe̶͇̎̇̊.̴̖̹̖̑ ̸̤̹̝̲̄̅P̵̞̣͇̾̓̍͘l̵͓͎̣̻̽̂̍e̴͎̒͋̏̒a̸̛͖͓͐s̶̫͐͂ę̵̛̩ ̴̣͕̌͒͆l̴̝̎ȩ̶̉̃t̶̬̩̻́͜ ̴̨͔̕͜m̶̢̫̻͖͑͝e̸̬̳̲̝͐̌̾̽ ̵͙́̿̌̄ḍ̴̨̱͗͆i̵͎̓̓̍͌ẽ̴̳̫̗͚̑.̵͉̙̭̓̓ ̷̫̅P̷̲̞͔̥͛l̷̜̙̥̑̇͜e̴̤͚̰̖̽͗̎͝a̵͉͊s̷̡̊̿e̶͓̔ ̸̢̹̭̓̄Í̷̧̠͙ͅ’̷͌̇͂͗͜͜m̶̻͇̯̋ ̷͚̈́s̸̹̤̟̰͑́̃͗ǫ̴͙͊͛r̸̗̿́̈͜r̸̢̞̭͋ý̶̢͈̖̐͗͝ ̶̛̰͙͔Ỉ̸̢̳͇̑ ̴̢̥̥̬̏d̶̙͉̻̯͑̈̌͗į̷̙̳̻́d̸̜̠̝̍n̷̲̂’̵̜̞̃ţ̴̔ ̵̹͍̐̓̐m̶̝̩̹̞̓̄͗̚e̵̢̱͈͕͛̾à̵̫̌͐n̸̛̛̦̅͗ẗ̵͕́̀͜ ̶̭̯̺͉́t̴͎̋ó̴̘̯̭̬ ̸͔̱̑̍̕ǰ̵͚̐̀ủ̸̯̝̯̖̀̂s̴̨̿̒͛̈t̴̲͝ ̸̠̠͎̘̓l̸͕͕̊̏̄́e̶̺̫̔t̸͖̭͆̈̐͝ ̴̯̰̀m̶͔̟̬̽̈̈́ẻ̴̺̳̳͛̓͂ͅ ̷̠̺̬̊̽̓̽d̸͔̪͎͆̚i̷̾͑̍͝ͅe̸̩̊̔ ̴̡̬̝̄͌p̷̗̎͆̆͗l̵̺̝͌͝e̶͍̞͂̍͠ä̷̺͖̟́̿̾s̶̠͔͌͌ȅ̶̘̤̻̒ ̴̰̂̄ḻ̸̛̜̀e̶͈̱̬͋̈͑t̸̛̺̝͕̹̓ ̸̺͍̗̾m̶̢͚͑̎̚͜͜e̸͈̽̊͠ ̶̲̻̉͛͝d̷̛̖̉͛͐í̵͖̪̄ȅ̷͕̽.̵̯̏͊̈́͜͠

H̸̨͔͑̏̕ŭ̴̡̝̹͙͋ň̵͒̅͜ḑ̵̛͉̞̲̠̼́͂͆̄r̴̰̟̱̯͖̄ȅ̷̡̩͖̹͙̌̔̏͜͝d̷̝̦̙̽̑š̴͓ ̶̘̻̘͎̩͍̿͊̿ő̸̦̞̽͑̌͌f̸̪̜͔͓̽ ̸̛̖͋͛̅̚y̷̰̳̖̙̕e̸̢̘̟͚̗̖͝a̸̡̠̟͌͗̄͠r̶̥͇̥̖̗͂ͅs̴͈̮̰̺̅̊͑.̶̥̋̂̄͝ ̸̦͉͍̏̄̊Ṡ̶̟̭̯̫̞̈́̓̚ỏ̸͍̲̫ ̴̪̥̞͌̓m̷̢̮̕ȕ̵̡̬̻̘̽̏c̷̻̯͕͈͔̀̌̔ẖ̴̭̘̖̽̈́ ̶̗̣͚͎̠͚̄͠t̸̡͊̀̃̎̾i̴̬̔́́͑̍̿m̴̢̤̟̺̈̿̈́̀̓͝e̴͍̦̻̩̒͗̎̾.̴̭̫̱̽̿̽ ̵͚̭̳͊̓̀̆̚͝P̴̰̮̫̮͚̿͒̽͛͠l̸̥̓͘͝e̴̘͓̋̐̑͂͝a̶͇̟̬̝͗͛̽̊́́s̴̘͖̭̈͌è̸̦͈̯͚̺̋̆̕ ̷̧̥͓͍̫̣̀̂̈̀̌Ȋ̵̧̑͝͝ ̸̟̽̽j̸̨̥̖̱͖͊͝ư̸̪̪͗̅̊̂s̸̛̟̯̒̄̊͝t̸͇̾̈́̈́̄̓̉-̵̧̰̀͗̍̂͑ͅ ̷̧̮͕̖̀̅i̴͍͙̲͆f̵̻͍̣̦̫͛̀͂̉ ̴̠̳̠̗̿̑I̴̗̒͘ ̶̢̳̗̈̌̽̇ͅc̸̖̤͊̔̈́̕o̸̬̝̮̥̺̞͂͋u̵̺͇͚̕l̷͍̺͓͒̃͐͒͝ͅd̸̻̬̝͎́̏̓ ̸̩̘̠̗̓̾̓̾g̴̮̞̦̘͝r̷̻͇̥̪̆̀̎̈́̎á̴̳̯̰͉̪̳̈̓̆ş̷̡̭͖̱̃̈́p̸̛̞̒͒̊̀̈́ ̵̣̳̑̔ỉ̴̘̰͚͖͔̲́͘̚͝͝t̸̪̼̱͌̇̃.̵̲͐̔̐ ̵͕̦͑̍̐P̷̳̂l̴̢̨̳͈͍͗̐́̚ę̴̣̠̫́͌̀̑a̴̧͎̦͉̠̮͝͝s̶̼̀̿̕e̸̞̼̘̝̟͆͂̇-̶͙̚ ̴̫̒I̵̥͐̆̊̿̉ ̴͕̤̆̽́̉͠j̶̡͕͈̯̰̯̃͘u̸̡͙̝͎̺͑̿̽̒̕s̸̖͌̽̈͐t̸̢̛͈͍̱̭̹̊̋͒͝-̸̡̬̮̬̮͛͑̀́̐͘ ̷̡̡̳̦̳͙̈́̆I̶̗͔̬̻̕ ̵̺͎̟͙͖̣̓̆̀̓̓̍ç̵͈͕̞̗̍a̸̟̟̖̋͐͋͊n̴̜̿͂̕ ̷̭͑̾͑́̽́j̷̬̋͛̍ũ̸͓̠̓̏̿͜ș̸̐͊͋͂͘t̶̠͎͔̳̾͛̂̓͆̏ ̴͓͙̜͍͉̈́b̸̛̭̜͕̱̗͑a̸̛͎͍͕̭̰r̸͈͉̖̊̌͠ę̴̦̗̪͛̍̓̑̎l̷̥͑y̴̹̠̜̘̓͒̆̈̏͝-̵̡̤͎̏̈́̌̑ ̸̲̱̱̼̥̼̆̽̐̈̿͝r̶̛͇̟̗̬̈́͌̿̊͋e̶̺̟͓̥̳͐̋ą̶̛͇̝̖̬͑̅̎̈́͘ċ̶̩̖͘̚͝ḫ̷̨̡̤̫͌̎̿̈́̒̏ ̴̙̺̥͙̱̀̓̈́̚i̵͖̙̥͂̅̂͜t̶̡̾̎͝͝ ̷̪͈̖̼̇̓͆i̸͓̹̺̪͛̀͑f̸̢̤̼͓͂̿̈́͊̊ ̵̧̦̫̚̕İ̶͙̝͓͙͑̄̅̂̚ ̶̣̬̤̎̅c̶̙͖̥̖̝͆̈́̈͝ȧ̷̧̧̹͈͈̬̅n̴͙̪̖̑͂̈́͒̈́͘ ̶̧̦͔͑͜j̸̨̪̯̱͈̣̉̇̈́͘u̶̡̟̺̟̻̘̿̋̔͋͐s̷͉̣̣͐̈̃t̴̡̨̿̅̇͌̓͝-̶̧̠͕͇̓̓̆͆̊

Jonah reached up and got a solid grip on the edge of Ţ̸̢͙̬̘̦͔͉̻͎͉̱̙̉͐̈͂̇͋̽̂͛̕͜͝͝ḧ̶̨̡̡̻̰͖̙̠͈̲̭̞̠́̉͋̔̒̀̀̌̈́́̀̓͘̚͘ȩ̶̢̧̢̡͖̭͕̻̦͖͙͓̯̦͊̏̾̽̒̈́̑̉͛̓̒̔͆͋͐͆͑ ̶̧̟̑̿͂̈́͆̅R̶̨̨̢̧̟͉͙͔̥͇͑̊͐͐̓̍̽̽̋̔͋̚i̸̛̩͙̣͊́͜͠v̷̢̛̜͋͛͗̄̈́͌͑̀̍͋̆̓͠͝e̷̲̋̂̓͝͝ŕ̷͓͎̼̙͙̞̤̗̱̥͉͓͍̖̦̇͋̌͌͐̇̀̄̕͜͝. He shakily pulled himself up and out of the water. Į̵̩̯͓̮̣͉̗̫̹̿͋̈́̾̇̋́̌͆͛̊̚t̵̬͓̮̮̬̣͋̊͘͜ ̶̙̣̟̬̩̝̺̱̞̏͆̀̇̈́͆̄͒̈́̔̊̊̂̑͝ͅẃ̶̡̛̗̺̓ą̸̺̜̗̦̯͖̖͕̼͕̲̪͒̅̀̐̐̓͒͊͑̉̚̚ͅs̶̻̹̎̈́̆̋͑́̒́̕ ̴̤͚͇̘̺̩͈̫̻̙͓̪̮̥̫̋̏͒̔͑̿̓̐́̿̈̚͠͝͝s̴̨͎͍͚̠̝̥̅͛͋͜o̶͍̳͎͈͆̾̈́̃̉̈́͛͘͝͠ ̴̧̤̗̯̗̺̞̼͙̘͈̩̘̤̮͊͊͌̇̇̉̌̋̈̊̍̐͗̏͘͜͠͝č̸͙̣̜̟̣̜͍̩̳͆̈̀́̌̍́̌͂͊̕͝o̵̮̟̰̳̝̹͈̗̖̙͉̣̮̣̳̻̙͊͆̈́̀͆̎͛͑͒̌͝͠l̴̩̻̖̮̎̆ḋ̴̛̇͋̅͐͒͛͋͐̋̈́́̕͜͝.̶͉̆̓͋̉̚͝͠

He shuffled himself over- he hadn’t.. walked in so long.. he hadn’t.. thought.. in so long.. He reached over to a pomegranate tree and devoured most of them.

Ḁ̴̺̉̐̈́́̐̚̚̚͝ ̷̡̨̝̥̥̻̏̓̓͌̈́̾̋͝g̷̡̘͈̪͆̍̈́̐͆͒͌̚͜͝ͅǫ̵̬͖̲͎͈̝͕͇͔̰̳̯͇̲̜̞̀̔̓́̚ḍ̷̺͕̥͙̙̙̣͎̺̪̈́͑̒̚ ̵̙̥͇̳͚͓̙̜̩̜͎͛́̓̓̒̄͛̌̑̿̊̈́ͅa̷͇̖̓̏̍p̵̢͈̬̞̘̣̫͉͆̒̈́͒̄̄̒͑͜͠͝͠ͅp̵̢̳̺͓͇͇͉̙͙̭̼̬͎̉̏͒̓́́͑͘̚̚͠͝r̵̨̦̹̘̊͐̋͊̾͌̑̓̍́́̌̾ó̸̡͔̭̮͙̼̣̺̖̬̜̩͔͔̜̈̾̔͂͗̑̄͐̈́͌͘͜͝ą̶̨̟̤̗̝͎̣̫̃͂c̸̰̜̦̺̖̭͚͊͑̉̊̈̂͝͠ͅh̴̡̡̖̫̘͓̟̯͓̖͉̹̪̓͂͐̇̑̕ͅę̵̛̯͇͎̬̩̥͎̮͕͇̣̞̈́̒͒̔̔̑̂̀̈́̾͘̚͜͝d̵͎̟̹̳͖̯̘̲͈̺̙͎̯̙̗̝͙̐͂̇͑̀̊ ̴̧͕͕̗͕̞͖̰̥̞̙̳̾̾͒̏̅̈̀̒̕̕͝͝h̵̡̗͉̠̳͙̻̥͚̤̙̠̥͚̗̩̒̀͂́́͗̀͂̀̽̅̉́͒͝͠͠ǐ̴̩͍͔̥̲̟̓̎́̅̌̕m̵̰͍̣̲̩̭̣̰͈̱͕͉̤̦̪͙̲̓͌͐͂̀̈́͛͂͊.̵̨̛̥̩̩͓̜̪͚͎̩̿̿̂̊̽̀̋̎͠

[will be continued. can you blame me for not finishing it all look at how long this already is lol]

#Jonah #oc #ocs #oc reference #original character #original character reference #superhero #supervillain #antihero #my art #Spotify

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lamuradex · 4 months ago

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Stitches of the Mind: Character Profile 2

Let's keep going with these. 2nd main character.

Rhianne Thompson

Description:

Rhianne looked the same as she always did. Powder blush, a rosy-painted complexion, and the face of a model. Subtle makeup framed her eyes and coloured her lips, today’s lipstick being a shade of dark red. Her long, chocolate-brown hair rolled down her shoulders in silky waves, while she wore a sharp blue skirt with a white buttoned blouse, all of which clung to her curved figure. Even out of the public eye, she always made the effort to dress well, looking like someone straight out of a fashion magazine, with a pair of stylish blue spectacles perched on her nose to complete the look.

Born and raised in Meadowhurst, Rhianne is a very fashionable and beautiful woman. She's managed to carve a niche as an owner of Meadowhurst's premier deluxe clothing store, with employees to deal with the day to day sales while she manages and creates her own new designs for the shop floor. Sooner or later, everyone in town has been in there for a dress or a suit.

As she was raised in Meadowhurst, she's always had a passing familiarity with many of the girls that would become her best friends, so it's easy for her to think of them as lifelong friends.

Rhianne can be sharp, even argumentative, and a little stuck in her ways. Even so, she cares for her friends deeply, will be there to support them as needed, and especially has an affection for Penny... more than maybe even she realises.

Rhianne is the one who first met Tammy when she moved to town, going to complain about postal issues, only to find by a quirk of town planning that Tammy was her neighbour in house number, but not actually her next door neighbour. They frequently get each others post. When even Tammy couldn't work out the cause of this quirk, Rhianne invited her out for commiseratory drinks, where she met the rest of the girls.

Not quite a pillar of the community, but a steadfast member of it, known and respected by most.

Of course, much of this changed after Penny disappeared.

With Penny dropping bodies, Rhianne isolated herself, terrified of the killer on the loose, even if that killer used to be her friend. Her isolation became so severe that she stopped visiting her shop, leaving it to her employees and sending the occasional note over, and never leaving her house for more than groceries for fear of Penny being around any corner.

However, even she could see this wasn't healthy. Her fear only grew worse, overwhelming her, days turning to weeks, turning to months, always alone and afraid. Finally, when she heard noises outside in her bins, she decided an act of bravery was needed. She was terrified, but she needed to prove she could do it. So she went out to investigate.

This resulted in a panic, some screaming, and scratches from a wild animal.

Rhianne returned to her home, heart racing and hurt. Not badly, but enough to sting. Which is when she had a revelation. The pain had broken the tension. Burst the bubble. She wasn't afraid. Not with the worst having happened, her heart racing and cuts burning.

And so, next time she found herself afraid, she tried to replicate this. She took some scissors and traced them on her skin. Pain granted her relief from her fears.

This relief soon became an indulgence, a masochistic pastime that she began to enjoy. It helped her escaped the terrifying reality of Meadowhurst. And who was she hurting, other than herself, of course?

But fantasies can run away with you.

Over the months, her indulgence continued, becoming close to an addiction, until one day she found herself fantasising. Daydreaming about a certain serial killer who could truly bring pain. A friend she had lost but that she still cared for. Penny.

While initially a little shocked at herself, she reasoned she still wasn't hurting anyone. Gradually, a new, twisted infatuation was born from that twisted seed. She even made a life sized ragdoll, an idol to heap her affections onto, out of fabric and thread. A doll to cuddle, made to look like Penny, which she called her Pretty Penny.

And her infatuation may have ended there, strange as it was... had she not received a very strange gift from Penny herself, alongside a note begging for her to keep it safe.

It was a human heart in a box.

But to Rhianne, it was her affections returned. Her crush reciprocated. Maybe it truly was love after all?

So she hid Penny's gift. She hid it inside Pretty Penny where no one would find it. And thus she waited, indulging in her reliefs, her masochism, hoping for the day the real Penny would find her again.

But she knows no one will understand. How far will she go to keep her secrets. How far will she go to keep Penny's gift hidden?

And is there perhaps more to Pretty Penny than meets the eye?

Rhianne knows she's likely gone mad, but it's better than facing the horrid reality her life has become. And when she faced with living dolls and nightmares, she embraces them, seeing them for the miracle she thinks they are. But even if these things are real, then that does not mean they wish her well. And the darkness of these horrors is only a short walk from her madness.

#writeblr #writing #writers on tumblr #writing community #horror #StitchesoftheMind #Rhianne Thompson #Character Profile #asks are welcome

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grinbizz1 · 1 year ago

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semper-legens · 9 months ago

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42. Did She Kill Him?, by Kate Colquhoun

Owned?: No, library Page count: 346 My summary: Liverpool, 1889. James Maybrick dies after a long illness, his wife Florence by his side. But is this death all it seems? His brothers suspect Florence of murdering him - it's a known secret that she committed adultery, and her marriage was already all but over. Florence maintains her innocence, despite the opinions of the world. But with the revelations that James was a hypochondriac who regularly took arsenic as medicine, the waters become a lot more muddled. So what actually happened to James Maybrick? My rating: 4/5 My commentary:

This case is an absolutely fascinating one. I first found out about it in a very roundabout way - the book Dan Leno and the Limehouse Golem draws inspiration from Florence Maybrick for its main antagonist, as well as the history of Jack the Ripper. It baffles the modern mind to hear that in the late 1800s, there were people who regularly took arsenic as a form of medicine despite, you know, it being a deadly poison, but Victorian medicine left a lot to be desired. As did Victorian morality and treatment of women. Poor Florence Maybrick spent fifteen years in prison for a crime she most likely didn't actually commit, and all because she was judged by the moral attitudes of the time. Her status as middle-class and her relative youth might have been the only things that saved her from the noose, but even so, she spent fifteen years in prison, emigrated to America, never saw her children again, and died alone and penniless. Her tale is a tragic one, of injustice done to someone who likely deserved none of it.

Case for the prosecution: Florence Maybrick had been having an affair, had argued with and openly rebelled against her husband, had bought flypapers to soak the arsenic out of them, was seen putting suspicious powders into her husband's meat juice (ew), and stood in theory to gain from his death. Case for the defense: James Maybrick was addicted to arsenic, may have requested that his wife dose the bottle, the bottle was never drunk from, the cause of death was uncertain and not always consistent with arsenic poisoning and, most damning of all, the doctors involved in James Maybrick's care didn't suspect poison until his brothers brought it up. The point is, the evidence was murky enough that Florence couldn't and shouldn't have been convicted on it. So why was she? This book suggests Victorian morality. She had admitted to adultery and, while her husband was also guilty of the same crime, her having an affair was seen as proof she was guilty because she didn't live up to the lofty goals of Victorian morality. Wives are meant to be domestic, caring, loving, devoted. Florence complicated that by being imperfect. But that doesn't mean she was a killer. This book is an excellent summary of the case, written in a more proselike style but with an extensive bibliography, covering everything that happened behind the walls of the Maybrick house - at least, as far as that can be known. I'd recommend it to anyone interested in these sorts of true crime stories!

Next up, something is killing the children…

#Did She Kill Him #Kate Colquhoun #bookblr #book blog #book blogger #4

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bwat5-blog · 26 days ago

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Monsters And Angels

Spoilers For Arcane

Helped Silco push Shimmer

Killed unknowable amount of Firelights

Almost killed Ekko

Stole gemstone, killed six enforcers and blew up a building drawing Piltover's attention

Blew up council chamber and murdered 3 councilors guaranteeing Piltovan response

Unleased Grey on all of Piltover (if its so dangerous shouldn't this be a big deal?)

Betrayed Vander

Was prepared to kill Vi and tried multiple times (would have been in Vander's crew before Felicia and Connal died and certainly knew the kids)

Helped Silco flood the lanes with Shimmer

Intentionally messed with Jinx's head in hopes she would be cast aside due to her mental illness, knowing jinx was orphaned the second time because of Silco who Sevika serves.

Murdered Vander

Created the situation where Powder set off the bomb killing Mylo and Claggor

Tries to have his goons kill Vi when he swore to make a better zaun for her before she was born.

His puppet sheriff imprisoned a fifteen year old girl with no record (Silco didn't know but again. Silco started this) .

Raised Powder into Jinx as part of his operation turning her into a killer.

Unleashed an addictive dangerous drug that mutates addicts onto the people he claims to care about and fight for.

Tries to kill Vi again in ultimate betrayal of Felicia outside of their old home

Tries to kill Vi at the dinner party

If Jinx can become a symbol of hope, Sevika can become a councilor, and Silco can become fish-food, there is certainly hope for Caitlyn Kiramman!

**I love Jinx don't yell at me, just making a point. The undercity doesn't exactly have a high bar for hero**

#arcane #arcane season 2 spoilers #jinx arcane #sevika #fish food #caitlyn kiramman

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bloodcandied · 2 years ago

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Death Addiction 亡瘾 Chapter 2

My neck was strangled hard by the thin rope, and unlike my carefully selected tools for when I did it myself, the sharp pain when the thin rope was tightened instantly aroused and excited me even more.

To be honest, if there was ever an Olympic competition for hanging oneself, I could have most likely represented the Chinese team to secured the top three spots in the global group.

Being strangled by rope however was a common occurrence, and I skillfully touched the place where the rope was knotted, and stuck my fingers in to hold it in place, preventing it from continuing to tighten.

Noticing the anomaly, Xu Tuo covered my mouth and lowered me to the ground, "You enjoy playing with the rope?"

It still took a few seconds to recover from the slight suffocation, and my mind was still a little foggy, "Can ...... you ...... change the rope ...... "

"Hmm?"

"Slowly ...... change to thick rope ...... No, wait, why are you trying to kill me?"

As he got closer, I could smell a certain odor coming from him. In addition to the faint scent of cologne, there was some sort of odor that was familiar to me.

Ah ...... it seemed to be the odor I smelled in my nose whenever I tried to kill myself. When a person was near death, the brain secreted a strange odor, a bit like baby powder if I had to describe it.

I was so addicted to this smell that I was lost in my thoughts at such a time. In Xu Tuo's eyes though, my expression at the moment looked amazing.

"It feels a little gross to be looked at like that." He said.

"...... That strain on your collar, it's real blood isn't it?" I weakly raised my hand and pointed to his collar, "Could it be that you ...... were responsible for both of the murder cases?"

"Uh-huh." He admitted dryly. Then, a certain physical reaction between my legs was noticed by Xu Tuo, and he was stunned for a few seconds before laughing out loud, "What the hell ...... why does this kind of thing excite you? You, kid, are very dangerous."

-- It was true. When I was strangled just now, the matter of "dying without my control" did make me excited.

I was very overwhelmed by him discovering my secret and indulging me.

It was as if a luxury car enthusiast, who usually could only afford to ride a bike in his own neighborhood, was suddenly gifted a Rolls Royce by Xu Tuo ......

"Can you control your emotions? According to normal people's thinking, finding out a serial murderer is your house tenant should be slightly shocking," He patted my face.

I snapped back to reality slightly.

It was hard to associate serial killers with the image of Xu Tuo, who was textbook "likable". In contrast, I was probably more likely to be a high school student driven crazy by the pressure of schooling who turned to killing people as a source of relief.

I asked, "Will you kill me?"

"Will you tell?"

In that instant, a tacit understanding suddenly formed between us.

I wavered between telling on him and not telling on him for a few seconds - mostly, if I snitched, my dad would catch him, and maybe I could get a bonus from my unit, and my money to go on a school trip for the summer would be taken care of.

However, Xu Tuo had already followed my odd train of thought, "You're not calculating how much of a bonus you can get after Uncle Dai catches me, are you?"

"Do you know how much?"

"No idea, but I'd hate for that to happen, Xueming." Xu Tuo, who was half a head taller than me, pulled me up and crouched down to look me levelly in the eyes, "Look, if I kill you to silence you, I'll have to change my house, and your house has the best rental in the area. And then there's the fact that I love my uncle's cooking."

I liked my dad's cooking too, and could sort of understand his pain.

"I won't say anything about it. But you're not allowed to do anything to my parents either."

"It's not like I'm a homicidal maniac."

"...... That's very unconvincing of you."

"To get you to change your mind about me a little, how about buying you another Coke and fried chicken?"

I rubbed my neck where the strangulation msrks burned, "No. Where do you get your money from? It's not really from an IT company, is it?"

"That's an adult thing."

---

We headed back to the house. He still bought another fried chicken halfway there, and the two of us ate it as we walked. We bumped into my mom in front of the house and Xu Tuo was scolded by her for a long time, "Xiao Xu, don't buy him junk food."

My dad worked seven days a week, and slept in the office four days if he was busy. On Fridays, he was able to come home for dinner, and my mom helped him heat up the leftovee dishes, which he devoured in the living room.

I went over to him, "Dad, let me ask you something."

"What is it?"

"You said there was a murder in Old Town two years ago, so was that murderer caught?"

"Nope. There was a suspicion that the recent murders were also done by the murderer from two years ago, but there's always something that doesn't add up ...... Forget it, I'm not talking to you about it. Have you finished your homework?"

"No."

I went back to my room. The door to the room had just been pushed open when a hand reached out from inside and yanked me in.

The -- window was open, and Xu Tuo came down from upstairs through the window into my room.

"What's all this nonsense you were asking?" He whispered, "Dead kid."

"I didn't say anything!" I pried his hand off of me, "Just asking my dad. I was thinking you weren't in the city two years ago."

"Don't push every case onto my head, okay? I'm very meticulous."

"Fine." I mumbled and sat at my desk. The desk was next to the window, and when he came in through the window, he'd crumpled the papers on the desk into a ball.

Xu Tuo had to accompany me to clean up the trampled homework during which found the rope I kept hidden behind the desk and picked it up to measure it, "This is also too thick ......"

"It's not like I'm trying to strangle myself to death."

"Is it comfortable?" He slipped the noose around his own neck, "I'd like to try it."

I walked behind him, sized up the rope and hung the other end on the doorknob, "There you go, just sit down."

He looked at the rope on the doorknob, unhooked it and took it to the window. Outside the window was the outer case of the air conditioner, Xu Tuo hung the other end of the rope on the case shelf, and stood by the window.

I suddenly realized what he wanted to do, jumped over and grabbed him: "Are you crazy? You really will die!"

"I won't, with such a thick rope, I'll fall within two meters and still have almost five minutes to struggle." He laughed and adjusted the rope around his neck tighter, "You're afraid I'll die?"

"Don't die in my bedroom! How will I explain this to the others?"

"I won't."

He crouched at the edge of the window and patted the top of my head. I heard a sigh that seemed relaxed, as if he could finally sleep peacefully after long bout of labor.

-- Xu Tuo leapt off my window ledge, the thick rope straining for a split second, the air conditioner's outside case rack making a metallic sound.

I grabbed the rope as hard as I could and yanked upward. As far as males my age went, I wasn't the strong type, and it was too much of a stretch to yank another adult male back up out of the air - yell for Dad to help? No, it would be better to let him hang like this!

Regardless of all the strength I could muster, I couldn't drag him back. He was still breathing, but the force from the fall caused the rope to tighten so much that it became a giant noose around his neck.

This was the first time I had witnessed someone else's death process.

Xu Tuo's complexion had changed, his face turning blood red from the congestion. I poked half of my body out of the window and tugged at the rope around his neck, but my fingers were unable to snap into it no matter what.

At that moment, his hand lifted and raked upward against the window sill.

"Xu Tuo!" Following the force of his own upward climb, I endeavored to tug him back as well. Half a minute later, Xu Tuo finally returned to my room, his legs swinging out the window, his body lying on my desk.

I used scissors to cut the rope that had sunk into his flesh, and the tip of the knife poked him in the neck a couple times because the rope was so strong. He moved his head, took the scissors from me, and cut the ropes away sharply himself.

"Not a bad score for a first time, huh?" After coughing for a while, he smiled and asked me, "What are you panicking about? Shouldn't you be more relieved that I was going to die?"

My head was covered in a cold sweat. A serial killer about to hang from my window.. was it a good thing or a bad thing? I could have still found a way to tell my dad about his identity, so that my dad could close the case and not have to continue to hustle ...... but the thought of Xu Tuo dying pressed a wave of despair down on the top of my head for some reason.

--If he died, my life would go back to the way it was.

Going to school, coming home, homework, eating, cramming, and occasionally spicing it up with suicide ......

The only fun that was out of my grasp was Xu Tuo.

He rubbed my neck and sat up, tossing the broken rope into the trash. My mom came in at that moment to deliver the snacks and stared in surprise when she saw that he was actually in my room, "When did you get here, Xiao Xu?"

"Just now. Xueming opened the door for me. I helped him with his math."

"Oh ...... I probably didn't hear you in the kitchen." She didn't get suspicious at all and put the sliced fruit on my table, "What's wrong? Why are both your faces red?"

"He just can't learn the problems I've been taught." He said.

"Xueming you take it seriously too. Xiao Xu even came over after work to help with your homework." My mom rubbed my neck and collected the garbage bags from my room, "You guys go on. What do you want to eat for a late night snack? There's yellow fish wontons, Xueming's dad wrapped them himself."

In the end, Xu Tuo broke one of my favorite hanging ropes, downed a bowl of my dad's fish wontons, and walked away satisfied.

A week later, my dad's job loosened up a bit, and he was able to come home on time from time to time.

One day at dinner, Xu Tuo was at the table. My dad mentioned something about work while reading the newspaper, "Xueming, didn't you ask me about the old downtown massacre earlier?"

My mom put down her chopsticks, "Don't talk about this during dinner!"

"What does it matter, to exercise the child's tolerance." He said, putting down the newspaper, "I'm telling you, the murderer of the old downtown serial murders has been found."

"Huh?" My first reaction was to look at Xu Tuo. That guy was mentally tough though, surprisingly he just looked at my dad with a curious face, like an ordinary person waiting to hear gossip.

"Don't say it out haha, it hasn't been officially announced yet. The victims of the two recent murder cases ......"

"Stop it!" My mom was so angry that she banged the table.

"- are suspected to be the two serial killers of the old downtown murders. They were working in pairs over two years ago." Excitement bubbled in my dad's eyes as he said, "Two suspects in an unsolved case became victims one after another, and there's a new breakthrough in this case, we're investigating it along the lines of a vendetta. A part of the investigation was given to the provinces, to check the family of the victim of the old city murders, the family had a son who is now working in the provinces."

"Xueming, pretend you didn't hear him." My mom glared at my dad, "Alright, you can go watch TV when you're done eating, no more chatter."

Xu Tuo followed me as i walked through the house, pretending to take a math tutorial and flip through two pages. I squatted on the chair, staring at him with a gloomy face.

"Why the long face?" He had an innocent look on his face, "I told you that what happened two years ago had nothing to do with me."

"You didn't tell me you were a serial killer hunting serial killers."

"Isn't that good? You should be more at ease, right?"

-- But the original excitement was gone in an instant. He was only targeting criminals on the loose, and I wasn't a criminal!

Once again, Xu Tuo had become a controlled danger, and controlled meant no more fun.

"-And what are my dad and the others going to do when you're finished killing criminals?"

"He'll be able to come back on time to wrap wontons, isn't that good? I'm technically volunteering for them for free."

"So there's no big case bonus!"

"Big cities don't have so many big cases. And am I not giving you rent every month? You little brat...... you're not going to encourage your mom to raise the rent, right?"

I was actually already calculating whether to raise it by two thousand or three thousand.

"Then again, why do you think I don't like killing ordinary people?" He grumbled to himself as he graded the words for my English dictation, "It's neither fun nor challenging, and if ordinary people have a vigilance value of 10, those criminals on the loose have a vigilance value of at least 50 - have you ever seen a cat like to pounce on dull things that don't move? Definitely the more alert and lively something is, the more the cat likes to pounce ah."

-----

I sulked for two days.

In the words of the female class president, she thought she had read a suspense and deduction book, but it turned out to be a running sweet favorite. I wasn't very interested in those novels she was reading, but she was always inquiring about brother Xu who came to pick me up from school.

"Dai Xueming, it's a pity that you're planning to go out for your high school entrance exam." She wailed, "Doomed to split from him ......"

"Not necessarily ah, in the case that the tuition fee exceeds my budget, my father may not send me out."

Excluding Xu Tuo, I knew my life was just that of an ordinary aspiring international student.

My family would struggle to come up with the money to send me abroad to study, I would come back to China, get a job that's not good enough to live up to expectations, work, go on a blind date, get married, have a baby, and remember to kick that tenant out before I have the baby.

"You're taking life too boringly, too." The class president laughed at me, "The thing about life is that there are variables all the time, and no one can tell what's going to happen tomorrow."

--Life is a straight line. It's just a straight line with all the trimmings on it, and it's just a boring line going forward. The only variable is whether my dad can save enough money to send me to study abroad or not.

As for Xu Tuo, knowing that the guy's hunt was limited to murderers on the loose, he too became an ordinary part of my life line's trajectory. Nothing more than a slightly brighter color than the others.

I went home.

My dad didn't come home that day, which was not an uncommon occurrence, and everyone did what they had to do. My mom and her little sister were discussing where to go for a weekend get-together, I was listening to English listening, and Xu Tuo was sitting on the bed behind my desk, looking up information on his laptop.

"Hey, if, I mean if," I whispered to him as I leaned over my desk after finishing a paper, "if my family of three were to be burglarized and murdered one day, would you step in?"

"I would." He smiled and nodded, "Uncle Dai's wontons are delicious."

At that moment, the doorbell rang outside. I thought it was my dad coming back - mom went to open the door, her tone was surprised, "Why is Commander Zhou here ......"

He asked, "Who's Commander Zhou?"

"My dad's boss."

Xu Tuo became alert, closed the computer, and got close to the window to listen to the conversation below.

I brainstormed the craziest situation - if what this guy did was found out, the police force was extremely important. What if the captain led the people to rush into my house, kicked open the door of my room, and started a war with him ......

Then I'm sure I'll help Uncle Zhou, because he gives me year-end money every year.

"Dead child, you little fortune hunter!" Xu Tuo suddenly lowered his voice and scolded me through gritted teeth, thinking I had sold him out.

However no one rushed in.

We waited for a long time, wondering what kind of conversation was actually going on in the living room. And just five minutes later, I heard my mom's heartbreaking cries.

--My dad had been lost in the line of duty.

To be continued

#death addiction #death addiction mtl #扶他柠檬茶 #亡瘾

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