#I just drew it out of my ass I love bloody Gai

[sinnbaddie]

Warm up | repost with credit

[hydrate-or-diedrate]

Where the hell were we

But first a quick flat color Kanaya doodle because I asked my friend to pick a troll. It's been like 3 billion years since I drew anything but blobby cartoon anatomy, I'm super out of practice lmaoooo

Also thank you this person because either would have absolutely not idea how to pose someone holding a chainsaw without them <33

Some day these doodles will end up on my actual art blog as well but for now I am Lazy™️

ANYWAY

Okay look glasses boy I'm pretty certain you did not "solve" pi

Thank you LU server, I keep reading Dirk as Dink

SIGNLESS

This signless(?) is so sweet and chill, I can't wait to meet them, too

They're a historian? Oh I love them. A child(?) after my own heart

AND THEY WRITE FANFIC AWWW

WOAH those sure are horns

Okay this text is starting to seem to apply something adjacent to a vague British accent

By which I mean they're using words like "bloody" and calling people "love" and etc etc so that's inchresting but also kinda weird

AND THEY DRAW? I love them so much and I haven't even met them, I can't wait for everyone to vaguely suggest something terrible about their story in the comments later agskdhhdj

Oh are they finally gonna explain the fuckin typing quirks?

Nope no they are not

Oh my gosh Roxy stop interfering in people's love livesssss

Jane he could always be some variety of bi or pan

These girls have their priorities all out of wack :/

Wow Dirk are you really just gonna drop the head off like you're leaving it at daycare?

Lmaoooo he's got a little parade behind him

I SPY FEFERIS ANCESTOR OMG NO WONDER THEY GOT VIOLENT SO FUCKIN QUICK

AJHD HI DKDH JAKE USING PESTERCHUM OR WHATEVER ITS CALLED IN THIS SESSION TO CENSOR THE ALIENS NIPPLE I CANT

Uh oh nap time

Vriska??? I spy vriska horns???

OH THATS HER ANCESTOR

Oh she's so cute

<??????? is right, Jake

Jake is turning this into a harem manga

I spy a brobot ripping it's own uranium heart out

LMAO Jane just got hard-core friendzoned

I spy a brobot beating its uranium heart to smithereens in pettiness?

Jane, Jake is basically coming out to you and all you can think about is your own damn crush >:/ (but also I am totally biased gimme the gays, I've barely even seen them interact yet I just want gay rep. Queer them into oblivion Hussie I deserve it)

HELL YEAH PROSPIT QUEEN KICK HIS ASS

ID VALL HER QUEEN AS IN THE SLANG BUT THATD BE REDUNDANT

Hello again Jaspersprite!

HELLO DERSITES PLEASE GO AWAY

h-hewwooo?

OH FUCK OH SHIT OH PISS OH HELL OH FUCK

Another UU? Wtf? Also oo black text thats new

A session with only 2 players 👀 oho?

I AM NOT FEELING YOu, MOTHERFuCKER

I agree Cal is an uncanny grinning mockery and a bad omen and should be chopped up and burned fantastic talk

What the fuck is tumut

Here comes the meteorrrr woooo

BETTY CROCKER ARMAGEDDON?

Did they all get fuckin transported? Tf

I'll be honest this is one of the more confusing cutscenes so far simply because Dirk and Roxy seem to have been instantly transported years into the future which doesn't make sense at all but I'm sure will be explained later

Oh boy and of act 6 act 2

Day 13 of reading homestuck hoo boy

Before we read I just want you to know that I added some homestuck songs to my playlist and now pony chorale is haunting me. Every single time I've listened to music while walking between classes, without fail, pony chorale has come on before I reached my destination and I've had to hold back laughter.

WITHOUT

FAIL

Anyway Roxy is getting the TeaTM from Dirk's glasses

Is it am actual love triangle this time or a haha funniee one? Guess I'll find out but hoo boy teenage crush drama, I do not miss it

NOOOOOO FRIGGLISH

FUUUUUUUCK

"Rogue of Void" is certainly new

Hehe spoipage

Again, I am a simple women, put misspellings and funny words in front of me and I'm guaranteed to laugh its not that hard

I SEE TROLL KEYBOARD

Come on these trolls have gotta be our first trolls' paradox ancestors I wanna meet eeemmmmmm

Woag hi Roxy dreamself

I forgot that Cal is back :(

Well hello Squarewave!

bitch

Dave and Dirk truly got some of the worst modii in the story lmaoo

RAP OFF!!!!!!!

Woahhhh bye bye HB

[unnecessarilygrandiose]

listen i actually liked these two episodes okay, and i liked what they're doing and where the plot is heading and it truly was a roller coaster especially what they did with max in the last episode jesus god. it's a good cliffhanger. but like! i need to grieve byler and aroace eleven okay?

so here goes:

WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT IN THE NAME OF JESUS HELL HETERO CORNY ASS AMATONORMATIVITY HETERONORMATIVITY COMPHET FUCKING SHIT WAS THAT??

A. WE WERE ROBBED OF WILL COMING OUT SCENE!!!!!!??? why the fuck would you say his sexuality was addressed when the word gay was not even uttered once??? THAT is how you handle coming out??? make will cry twice??? express all his feelings for mike by making him say 'that's what el would have thought'??? not even make him say out loud even once that he's in love with mike? WHAT THE FUCK

B. THE PAINTING??? the painting that was supposed to express will's love for mike??? THAT is what it was??? like. it was a decent painting, you drew your red heart out on mike's shield. but will, baby, EL COMMISSIONED IT??? what in the actual shitty hell??

C. MIKE FUCKING WHEELER IS AN ASSHOLE. it would have been such a neat explanation as to why he had been acting like a douche to his best friend and girlfriend for two seasons if they had just said internalised homophobia. but no!! he just went from the guy who would literally jump off a cliff for his friend to the guy who would treat two of the closest people in his life like shit. treating your best friend like that just cause you have a girlfriend and are supposedly grown up?? douche. not having the gall to say i love you to the girl you are supposedly in love with FROM FIRST SIGHT??? FUCK YOU. im seriously gonna puke.

D. EL NEEDS MIKE MY FOOT. they literally made her say she needs mike???? WHAT THE FUCK. WASN'T THAT SUPPOSED TO BE HER ENTIRE ARC?? TO FIND HER PLACE IN THE WORLD??? like. okay, she's allowed to want him. it's fine if she's intersted in romance-- i'd love it personally if she weren't, but it's fine. she wants mike. but the fact they said she NEEDS HIM??? FUCK YOU AMATONORMATIVITY FUCK. YOU.

E. THIS IS JUST ME RANTING ABOUT AMATONORMATIVITY AGAIN POST ENDED IF YOU WANNA STOP READING THAT'S FINE JUST. OF FUCKING COURSE EL NEEDS A MAN IN HER LIFE OF FUCKING COURSE. OF FUCKING COURSE THE MAIN CHARACTER CANNOT END THE SHOW SINGLE AND STRONG AND INDEPENDENT AND READY TO FIND HERSELF OUTSIDE OF A ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP OF FUCKING COURSE. CAUSE THAT'S THE MOST IMPORTANT THING RIGHT?? EVEBN IF YOU DON'T KNOW WHO YOU ARE EVEN IF YOU'RE DESPERATELY TRYING TO FIT IN AS LONG AS YOU HAVE A MAN IN YOUR LIFE EVERYTHING IS BLOODY FINE AND FUCKING DANDY.

also mini rant at the end of this mega rant but did they really have to frame that final shot that way? like three couples and one el? did they really have to frame it like jopper, jancy, and byler? and one single independent head held high el?? THE EXACT THING I WANTED THAT THEY AREN'T GIVING US BECAUSE WE CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS, APPARENTLY?? did they really have to rub salt in the wound???

[lizzielikeborden]

More Than Friends?

Request: Hey, I saw the requests were open: I’m furious, bc of the biphobia at the moment, so would you please write ANY HP fic with bi reader? Them dating whoever they feel like, but people around still not believing “this is a thing” and that they’re “doing it for attention” or just “scared to admit they’re gay” Ohhhh, I’m in pain, sorry for this mess...😬🌻

Author’s Note: I loved this request so much, it was so unique and I really feel this in my heart. I hope everyone enjoys this and if you relate just know that you are perfect and I have unconditional love for all of you. Love who you want, no matter who you love you’re perfect. 

The power you have and feel when you break up with someone is so strong. There’s always so many ways it can show up, anger, sadness, or pure screw them. And after this particular breakup with one of the nasty Slytherin boys who treated you poorly and expected the absolute world out of you. You felt nothing but screw him, you weren’t even mad. In fact you ended it right before going to lay down in bed that night. 

You were so energetic and giddy that you could barely sleep. You had just done something that needed to be done a long time ago. You really did it. You took out the trash and life was gonna get better. At least that’s what you thought until the next morning at breakfast..

See you had gotten up happy, and did your hair maybe even some makeup and hyped yourself up a bit. But the moment you stepped out of your room all the eyes went on you. And that feeling of energy slithered away so fast it felt like it was never there.  Some of the girls in Y/H looked a bit more uptight. But you let it go and walked to Y/H table. And that’s when Pansy Parkinson saw you, and like a shark that smelled fresh blood came over to you.

“Well well well, what do we have here?” She pitched her voice even higher than normal and acted like a fool. 

“A foolish Slytherin girl and her gang of idiots.” You spoke up, though nervous you didn’t really wanna deal with Pansy. 

She scoffed and said the magic words that made the rest of the day anxious 

“At least I like boys and don’t just date them to look straight.” 

Your heart dropped into your feet. She knew. How did she know? 

“What the hell are you talking about?” You whisper yelled at her, anxiety wracked your brain like never before.

“Or maybe you just do it for attention to be different.” She tapped a finger on her chin as if she was actually using her brain to think for once. 

You got up and stormed out of the room, only a few eyes followed you and you heard Pansy cackling like a hyena. You couldn’t believe his nasty ass told everyone. You knew it wasn’t just Pansy who knew, even though she was probably the one who told so many others. The whole fucking school probably knew. Slytherin’s spread rumors and secrets as fast as a snake strikes. You sat on a bench outside and took deep breaths. You didn’t know what to do or where to go or how to fix this. And then you heard talking. Great. You turned your head to see none other than Ron Weasley, Harry Potter, and Hermione Granger. You turned quickly as to get them not see you but you were much too late. 

“Y/N!” Hermione’s voice perked up and got closer to you. Suddenly someone was on the bench next to you. 

“Hi.” You dryly told her back and she nodded the boys off. 

“What’s wrong?” She questioned, grabbing your hand. 

You pulled your hand away gently. And she moved it back into hers,

“What’s wrong? Why did you do that?” She gently questioned a bit more concerned. 

The two of you had always shown very close platonic affection. Whether it was cuddling in the cold or on nights when one of you had a nightmare. You held each others hands when one of you was even a little upset. And you kissed each other’s cheeks when you felt silly or needed a little cheering up. You sat on each others laps when seats were full or even if they weren’t. You laid on each other all the time and were just always super physically close. 

“Oh cmon, you have to know.” You bowed your head upset. 

“Know what? That your and that prick broke up?” She squeezed your hand a bit. 

You chuckled,

“Well yes that and the whole bisexual thing.” You took in a deep breath ready for her to pull her hand away and get uncomfortable. But she didn’t she just stayed right where she was. Even when she heard a chuckle from none other than the Slytherin prince himself. 

“What do you want Draco.” Hermione didn’t let go of your hand. 

“Oohoho I see we have a budding romance.” He waved his hands around and gestured towards the two of you. 

No one said anything except Draco some more, 

“Pansy was right, you do just want the attention. You didn’t even really date him.”

That was when you had had enough of his big mouth and spoke up,

“Just because you’ve only see me partially date one boy doesn’t mean i’m straight. It also doesn’t make me straight or mean that I want attention from it. I didn’t ask for attention. I didn’t ask for this and I didn’t ask to be born this way. It’s just who I am.” Tears pricked at your eyes the louder you spoke to him. 

“Oh whatever you bloody fa-” He didn’t get to finish his sentence before you felt Hermione’s hand leave yours and connect with Malfoy’s face. She couldn’t let him say that word or let him speak to you in that way. Pure shock chased away the tears, and it even seemed like your tears ran over to befriend Draco as he began to cry on the ground holding his nose. 

She stood still in her spot heavily breathing and turned back to look at your shocked face before leaving.

You didn’t see her for the rest of the day, class went on so slowly. You were so confused why she ran away or why she hadn’t tried to see you the rest of the day. You were so grateful for what she did, and you wanted to thank her. So you got some of her favorite treats at dinner and wrapped them up in a napkin, went outside and got what little wild flowers grew, and wrote her “THANK YOU” with a heart on some parchment. It was the least you do, but you weren’t exactly expecting your day to go this way.

You searched a bit before finding her outside on the same bench the two of you had sat many hours ago. 

“It’s a bit late to be out don’t you think?” You stood a bit away from the bench. She looked up at you and chuckled, looking back down again. 

“I suppose so.” She lifted her head back up to you and you sat down next to her. 

“This is all for you, I just wanted to show you I’m grateful for earlier. No one else would’ve punched him.” 

She took the napkin and opened it revealing her favorite treats, the flowers were tied with a string at  the bottom, and the little note. Her eyes watered and a smile gleamed across her face. She gently dropped the gifts on the other side of the bench and held your face in both hands, placing a soft kiss on your lips. You could feel her tears on your skin. She quickly pulled away and placed her hand over her mouth. 

“I am so sorry, that was beyond uncalled for.” She rose from her seat, grabbed her gifts, and went to leave.

“No. No it was not.” You held her empty hand, “I never knew, but, I feel the same, and I’m sorry for never saying anything.” 

“You mean it?” She whispered. 

“Of course I do! Hermione, I just. Didn’t wanna assume.” You drew off, not knowing what to say.

“More than friends? Please...” She asked. 

You giggled, “Yes, more than friends.” You grabbed her hand and kissed her cheek. 

[carryonsnowbaz]

trans!Fiona

I’ve had this idea in my head about Fiona being a trans man for a while, but I decided to wait until @transmagesweek to post it. This idea is what the majority of the things I post this week will revolve around, so I thought it would be a good thing to start out with it. I'll also be posting a fic to go with today's prompts later today.

Fiona came out when he was younger but only to a few people: Ebb, Nico, and Natasha

But then he lost all of that 

Nico decided to become a vampire, which cause Ebb to withdraw into herself and it was almost like she was gone too, and when Natasha died, he felt like he had no one he could talk to about this

He felt all alone and didn't feel comfortable opening up to anyone, so he drew back into the closet and stayed there, playing at being a girl even though it nearly killed him a few times - he stayed strong for Baz though because someone had to look out for him

There were so many times when he wanted to tell someone but he felt like he had no one

He wanted to talk to Ebb but it felt like too much time had passed; there was too much distance between them after all this time

Ebb, Nico, and Fiona had all been so close in school, and Fiona had loved them both dearly, but it somehow felt different with Ebb. Fiona never thought too hard about that though because he didn’t want it to ruin what they had.

It was just another secret he held that sometimes felt like it would tear him apart, but we went on with his life, keeping it all in.

As Baz got older, there were times when Fiona wanted to tell Baz that he was trans, but he felt like Baz was suffering with enough without also having to carry this secret, so he kept his mouth shut even though it meant he felt like he was constantly lying to Baz (and to himself at times)

When Baz came out to him as gay at age 15, he again wanted to tell him, but he didn’t want to take that moment away from Baz. He made sure Baz knew he was loved no matter what (and wondered if Baz would feel the same about him when it came down to it)

Time passed and Fiona kept to himself

He watched after Baz and went on with his life, suffering silently by himself

But when he heard that Ebb had nearly been killed by the mage (because Ebb deserved to live) he went to her, tears in his eyes and an unnamable feeling in his chest.

"You're alive," he said. "So are you." "Of course I am. Nothing will ever kill me, remember?” It’s an old joke between them, but it falls flat now. Things just aren’t the same anymore.

"So how have you been?" Ebb asks, and Fiona is quiet for a long time before tears burn at his eyes, threatening to spill over as the truth overwhelms him. "Honestly? Not great." Ebb pulls him into her arms and rubs his back soothingly ass he whispers "it's okay. It will all be okay." And then they're both crying as Fiona finally allows himself to feel the pain he's been hiding for years.

"I'm trans," Fiona whispers. "I know." "No one else does." "That doesn’t make it any less real. You're still you." "Thank you."

They’re quiet for a while, simply holding onto each other like if they let go, the world will fall apart.

Fiona decides that while he’s getting things off his chest, he might as well confess his other big secret, and before he’s even made the decision to do so, the words are spilling out of his mouth: "I love you."

Ebb pulls back to meet his eyes as she says, “I love you, too. But why did you never say anything?" "You were in love with that dryad, and I didn’t want to ruin things." Ebb nods knowingly. Things were different back then.

They talk for a while after that, catching up and listening to each other about what they’ve been up to since the last time they saw each other.

Nothing is certain between them, but Fiona is smiling as he leaves, knowing that things will be okay. They can close this distance between them and at the very least be friends.

After talking with Ebb, Fiona decides it's time to tell Baz. He's tired of hiding himself from the world, especially the people he cares most about.

He doesn’t care as much about what anyone else will think or say, but he does care what Baz will think and it's time to face that, whatever happens.

It turns out that Baz also has something to tell Fiona, but Fiona asks him to wait. He needs to get this off his chest before he can have a chance to change his mind.

Fiona has been thinking about how he would tell Baz he was trans for years, but it’s still difficult to get the words out.

Somehow, it felt easier to come out to his friends when he was younger. It seemed as simple as telling them that he felt like a boy, but it isn’t that simple now. It feels like with just a few words, he could lose everything.

But he won’t back out now. He still tells Baz.

To Fiona's relief, Baz doesn’t have a problem with it. Baz hugs him and says that he loves him, and Fiona hadn’t realized until that moment how worried he was that he might never hear those words from Baz again after this, and for the second time that day, he feels tears filling his eyes.

"What should I call you?" Baz asks as Fiona wipes away his tears. "Fiona is fine for now." "Okay." He simply accepts it, which is another great relief to Fiona.

To get some of the attention off of himself for a bit, Fiona asks Baz what he wanted to tell him, and that’s when Baz tells him that he’s dating Simon.

A large part of Fiona wants to be mad because it’s the mages bloody heir, but he loves Baz, and if this is who he loves, Fiona will find a way to be okay with that.

"I'm happy for you," Fiona tells him. "Really?" "Of course. I told you that I’ll love you no matter what. It just might take me some time to love the idea of you dating the chosen one." Baz nods and laughs lightly. "That’s understandable."

They hug and in that moment they’re both happy. But this is just the beginning.

Fiona has a long road ahead of him. To figure out how to love himself and accept himself and find a way to be himself in a way that makes him comfortable but having the two people he loves most in the world by his side makes a huge difference.

Things don’t seem so difficult anymore, and when he looks ahead at the future, he has hope.

[bottleofspilledink]

God’s Watching, Put on a Show || Chapter XI

The air was cool and crisp, blowing by her and carrying with it the lingering scent of teenage rebellion and the joy that was momentary liberation. Her feet moved swiftly as she waded through waist-high grass, it’s dew caressing the sliver of skin between the end of her pant leg and her sneakers.

The long walk over to the partly hidden, run-down shack they had made their hideout gave her time to think, mind wandering, thoughts racing. And yet, the thirty minutes she walked wasn’t enough for her to sort said thoughts, not enough to know what to do with them, anyways.

She was excited. Who wouldn’t be giddy if something they had waited on for a year now was coming closer with every day, with every passing second, with every step?

Under that, though, there was a sense of dread, Lilith instinctually doubting all the good that was happening to her. Again, I ask, who wouldn’t doubt all the great things that came to them if it were drilled into them everyday that they simply weren’t deserving of it, too sinful to be worthy of anything other than guilt and scorn?

And even deeper than the dread, there was fear.

What if there wasn’t enough money? While Colette’s parents had told her to expect about a few hundred thousands, it was a known fact to all of them that because they were the ones to set the fund up, they could access, and consequently take, money from it as they wished.

What if there was no money at all? Colette not being granted access to her trust fund for some superficial reason was always a real, daunting possibility, leaving her as the one the whole group would have to rely on.

Lilith arrived at their hideaway, almost hesitant to knock at the door, fearing what she could find inside it. This was the one of the two nights that would determine their future. Should she not fear or fret, to a certain extent, that something could go wrong?

Regardless, she soldiered on and knocked.

“Who’s there?” Asked Joan, voice wary and gruff, a slight creak coming from her end probably due to her leaning on the door to make sure no one who wasn’t supposed to get in was able to.

“It’s me.”

The girl’s response was the clicking and clacking of deadbolts before swinging the door open and ushering Lilith inside. It was an unspoken, sorrowful truth the five of them shared, that all the locks they’d placed on the shack weren’t a mere sign to others looking for a place to hang out that it was taken, but an unfortunate, and necessary precaution they had to take due to the simple fact that they were them, that they were gay.

It was so that – if it ever came to it – they could buy themselves a few seconds more.

To hide what they had to, be it alcohol or forbidden books or money.

To come up with a lie, unconvincing as it may be.

To say their dreaded, tearful goodbyes to one another before the inevitable consequence for being them came to claim them.

They wouldn’t have to worry about that for much longer, though. Not if tonight went well. They would never have to worry about it again.

“Where are the others?” She looked around the space they’d made their own, devoid of people save for her and Joan. The time they’d agreed on drew closer and worry slowly made it’s way into the cavity of her chest that seemed to exist for such unpleasantness alone, the part of her she didn’t want, that ever constant fear.

Maybe it would go away once they were out of this town. She hoped it would.

In a better world, she wouldn’t have to feel like this to begin with.

She tried not to think of that too much.

“They came here, pooled together ten bucks, and went back out to buy a pack of cupcakes and a candle for Colette.”

Relief flushed out most of the concern and Lilith allowed herself to plop down on one of the beanbag chairs they got for relatively cheap at a yard sale.

“What about Colette?”

“She’s not here yet,” Joan said, sitting in a near-identical chair from across her, wiggling a bit to try and get comfortable, legs shifting constantly, much more accustomed to the hardwood floor.

“And you guys are sure she’s back from her trip?”

The girl stood up took to leaning on the door again after hearing rustling from outside.

“God, I hope so. It’d be a waste of cash if not.” The girl stood up took to leaning on the door again after hearing rustling from outside. “She said she’d be back on the twentieth.”

A series of knocks came from the other side, panicked, frantic.

“Open up! Colette’s almost here!”

The familiar clinking of metal reverberated around the shack once more, the two girls coming in not even a second after.

“What’s with all the rush?” Joan locked the door once more despite knowing their friend drew nearer by the second. Better safe than sorry. “Doesn’t she know we’re waiting for her?”

Paula gave her no mind, instead sticking a small, pastel blue candle atop one of the cupcakes.

“Joan, dear, your lighter.” She held her palm out, expectant, Joan fished it out from her pocket and passed it over. If Paula wanted to surprise Colette, she might as well indulge her.

Meanwhile, Julia took a lacy tablecloth she had smuggled away from her house during laundry day and smoothed it over the wood of the table, she got the remaining cupcakes from the box, putting them on top of the soft fabric in a short line, careful, making sure none of them touched.

They handed stripped, sparkly party hats to Lilith and Joan, leaving the only one with a small pompom atop it on the table, for Colette.

The set up was modest, intimate, even nostalgic in a sense.

It looked like a child’s tea party. Food just enough for the five who were coming, the silly party favors, the simple decor that could hardly be considered such. All they needed now was a few plastic cups, a teddy bear, perhaps a tutu, and they were good to go.

There was a second after everything was set up before Colette came knocking.

“Guess who’s back from the Bahamas?”

Hushed, excited whispers came from them before they giggled and let her in.

The creak of the door was drowned out by the party horn that Paula had bought.

“Happy birthday!”

“Holy shit, thanks, but I need to tell you guys that those hats make you look like Christmas elves!”

The giggles they had momentarily stifled returned when Lilith put one of said hat on Colette, playfully tugging a strand of her sand coloured hair along the way.

“Then you’re an elf too!”

They cackled and squealed as Colette screamed bloody murder, exaggerated and theatrical.

Julia then held out the cupcake for the girl as the laughter died down and they sang for her, jolly, off-key, filled with love.

“Happy birthday to you!”

They were acting like teenagers. Carefree, joking, happy.

Granted, they were teenagers.

It just wasn’t very often that they felt like one.

“Happy birthday to you!”

As they sang, jovial, unselfconscious of their pitch and tone, Lilith felt all the misery of the day’s happening fade, giving way for their merriment and warmth.

She felt safe.

She felt comfortable.

She felt loved, unconditionally, by this group of misfits, her friends.

Her family.

“Happy birthday, dear Colette!”

There was happiness in the very air they breathed tonight. It wasn’t something they felt often especially nowadays, this sort of infectious joy, this infrequent, sought after euphoria. And yet they basked in it now, fueled by each other’s warmth, feeding off of each other’s joy. This rare, coveted high they had so little of, but shared nonetheless.

“Happy birthday to you!” The final notes were dragged out to a comical extent, punctuated by guffaws and giggles, laughter and lack of breath halting it.

Lilith wished, as Colette blew out the candles and made hers, that the song could have kept going.

She wished her lungs would grow as if they were pufferfish so they could continue that final note til the end of time.

She wished that tonight would never end.

She wished for an eternal, permanent happiness, for all of them.

They settled down after the song, eating cupcakes as they chatted, asking Colette about her trip.

“There were a ton of cute girl in bikinis,” She said in between bites, a bit of green frosting smeared on her pale, chubby cheek. “You guys should come with me on my next trip!”

“Sure, lemme just pull some cash out of my ass and we can fly there on a private jet when Christmas break hits,” Joan cackled, crumpling the polka-dotted wrapper of her cupcake, slightly jostling Paula who sat in her lap.

“Okay, but speaking of money…”

Reminders of their other reason for being here effectively put a damper on everyone’s mood except Colette, who from her skirt pocket took out a crisp, pristine check.

“Will five hundred thousand be enough for us?” She smirked, sliding across the cloth covered table.

The rest of the girl shared glances, incredulous.

“Holy shit.” Julia said, the first to break the for once not terrible silence.

The sentiment was echoed and they all cheered, hugging and crying and hopeful, Colette in the middle of it all, receiving thanks and cheek kisses and hair ruffles, all of them getting pulled down from each other’s weight but refusing to let go, the girls now in a giddy pile on the hardwood floor.

“Well, that was at least nine tons off my shoulders…” The blonde said, finally being released from the tight hug, breathless, short, wheezing laughs coming from all of them as they lay unmoving, tired but happy.

None of them bothered to get up, content to lay on the floor, on each other.

They talked about the future, what they needed to do to reach it, what they wanted to do once they graduated and left town, some serious, some silly, some plans mixed in with some wishful thinking.

“I’m gonna shave all my hair off right after graduation.” Joan declared, flat on her back, eyes fixed to a certain point in the ceiling where the colour of the wood became lighter, large hands holding Paula’s dark ones.

“Yeah?” The voice was Julia��s, but Lilith couldn’t see her, the girl probably above her, just outside her peripherals along with Colette.

“Yeah! I’m not even gonna wait til we get to San Fran. We can just shave it off in the back of my pick-up truck and huck it at whatever car passes us.”

This earned a snicker from the girls, some of them adding what they’d do if whoever they threw it at decided to pursue them, coming up with outlandish excuses for what to tell the cops ranging from ridiculous ones like “she was shedding” and “the wind just blew it away” to outright slander against whoever the hair hit like “they were following us so we tried to throw them off” and “they actually tried to throw that at us, but it backfired.”

“In all seriousness though, we are not cutting your hair while the truck is running. I don’t want my girlfriend ending up with scissors in her skull.” Paula flipped herself over to lay on her stomach and reached over to twirl a lock of Joan’s hair, not caring enough to prop her body up, letting her cheek press against the ground while the others burst into laughter at the mere mention of scissors.

“We chop it off at some gas station bathroom or we wait til we pull over somewhere to camp for the night and do it there.”

“Aww…” They all lamented the loss of a prank before Colette spoke up.

“We can still chuck it at someone if we braid what we can, cut that off, and shave the rest. Then we can hang the braid from a tree and scare hikers!”

“Hell yes!”

The question of what they wanted to do the moment after graduation made it’s way around the circle, the answers varying from things like “take a nap” to “get wasted” and “yeah, getting wasted sounds good!”

“Hey, Lilith! You’ve been hella quiet, dude.” Julia coaxes from somewhere in the room. “C’mon! tell us about whatever the fuck you feel like doing!”

“Hmm… I think I’m gonna give my grandpa the middle finger and fuck his study up,” She nods to herself, the others made her carry on, telling her to stick it to the man and too count them in with her.

“Yeah!” Lilith laughed, throwing her head back as much as the floor beneath her would allow, adrenaline rushing through her at the mere thought of getting back at the man who had made her life a living hell. “I’m gonna get a knife and just stab his armchair and straight up vandalize all his books and smash that stupid paperweight on his desk!”

The girls cheered and jeered, shouting curses at the man and his bald spot and his cock, joking about everything from erectile disfunction to micro-penises til they devolved into fits of manic, belittling laughter.

From there, they bounced from topic to topic, though they always drifted back to thoughts of tomorrow. It was what made life worth living after all, at least for them.

The sights of the city, the courses they wanted to take, possible part-time jobs, the girls they hoped to meet. (Or at least, the single ones did. Joan and Paula added to this by suggesting cute places where they could go to on dates.)

Eventually though, the question was asked.

“So, anything interesting happen while I was out.”

Lilith could immediately tell that those who could see her from the corner of their eyes were staring, leaving her to recount the week’s events.

She sighed, long and loud and long.

“Buckle up. This gets shitty and it gets shitty fast.”

 …

 It took a good hour and a half to get through everything, the occasional comments from Joan and Julia not very helpful in keeping it short.

“So, let me get this straight-”

“We’re not!” Julia cut Colette off, giving Joan a high-five while the rest of them groaned.

“As I was saying, in the two weeks that I was gone,” she took a deep breath and spoke again, “Lilith started a fire and met a girl and fell in love and told the girl that she started it because she felt bad about fucking sandwiches also the girl is gay and can’t cope with it, which is why when you almost kissed, like, five days after you met, she freaked out and cried and threatened to blackmail you if you told anyone about what happened, then proceeded to act like nothing happened literally this morning and freaked out again cause she saw your boobs and again, couldn’t cope and had a panic attack during lunch and is now actively rebelling against her mother.”

“I wouldn’t say the panic attack and maybe gay realization and acceptance happened cause of Lilith’s hotness, but like, cause we human?” Paula interjected, still somewhat puzzled on how to put all the admittedly intense happening into words, but being the only one with Eve during the majority of her breakdown, the burden fell to her. “I think she saw how the fact we were lesbians doesn’t change how we’re human and how we weren’t evil like what some sermon taught her or something and had a crisis of faith because of it.”

Colette and Julia, who hadn’t been able to hear this part of the story earlier, stood in stunned silence, jaws dropped, socks knocked off.

“Oh wow. Well, that was…”

“A lot?”

“A mood killer?”

“A really bitchy thing to do?”

“All of the above.”

Lilith only shrugged, the “I-told-you-so” more implied than anything.

The night was drawing to a close, the girls knowing and dreading that soon, eventually, in the next thirty minutes, they’d have to go home.

“I think that’s enough for tonight. They’ll turn the lampposts off at three and it’s not safe out without it.”

“Okay, but one last question, is this girl on our side now or what? I mean, we already know she won’t tell anyone we’re gay cause then Lilith could just tell them that she’s gay too, but is she one of us now?”

They exchanged glances before reaching a unanimous “no.”

“She could be, though. If she apologizes for being a dick and accepts the fact she’s gay, all our problems with her are gone.” Joan added, albeit rather begrudging.

The girls nodded, agreeing once more. They felt sorry for her, yes, especially since they all knew what it was like to be in Eve’s place, but it was no excuse.

With those final statements filled with pity, the night was over.

Dusting themselves off, they sat up slowly and stood on wobbly, somewhat numb legs, they helped each other up, some being pulled to their feet, some leaning on other’s for support. Even when their legs didn’t feel like that of a newborn deer’s, their movements were sluggish. No one wanted the night to end, not even Paula, the one who suggested it. They wanted to stay here and sleep and cuddle and feel safe with each other. But so many good things had already happened that night, and no one wanted to push their luck and potentially jeopardize the plan by getting caught.

They left silently, not a single goodbye uttered, not so much as a wave given.

It was probably for the better.

Lilith knew she’d end up in tears if they had to vocalize their parting. It wasn’t like the other nights where they themselves knew that they had not the means to leave, no matter how much they wanted to. This was different. They enough money to leave whenever they wanted, the only things keeping them back were themselves.

She tried not to dwell on it during the walk home, mind shutting off all internal debates about whether it was sadder to be locked up with no choice or to willingly stay, making what was once a cage you were forced in to that of your own.

Instead, she remembered her friends’ echoing laughter, the familial warmth of their company, memories made not even an hour earlier already filtered with fondness and tinted with nostalgia.

It only served to accentuate her sorrow.

_____________________________

Taglist: @anon-nom-nom95 @leahstypewriter @madame-ree @phillyinthebathroom @melpomenismask @littlemisscalamity @gaypeaches @pirateofblood @i-wanna-be-a-rock @extrabitterbrain

[gaybastard2]

IDFC- Chapter 2: Treehouse

[Treehouse]

    When I opened the door, I saw Travis leaning on the wall for support. Holy shit, what the fuck happened him?! His nose, mouth, and head were bleeding profusely. He was clutching his arm, and it looked like looked like his leg was in pain. His normally purple sweater had turned dark brown around his arm and torso. “Larry! Please help me, I-I don’t know how to fix these, and I can’t go home,” Travis rambled. His face was red and blotchy from crying, I assume, and he looked like he was about to start crying again. It was so strange to see him like this, vulnerable. It freaked me out. The heavily religious, homophobic kid who fucking punches my friends is now bloody and bruised, begging for help. God this is weird.

  “Jesus Christ, Travis! What the fuck happened?!” I yelled. I started panicking. I’ve only fixed a few really bad injuries before, what if I fuck this up? “Larry, is that really fucking important right now?! Please, for the love of god, help me,” Travis cried. I nodded. Well shit, I guess we’re doing this shit. I ran next to him and wrapped my arm around his waist and let him lean on me. This isn’t awkward. Travis winced as I did this. “Oh fuck, sorry dude,” I said. He simply gave me a thumbs up. I guided him to my bathroom and told him to sit on the counter. He simply stared at me for a minute.

   “Larry, does it fucking look like I can get on the counter? My leg is either broken or sprained, and my arm hurts really fucking bad.” Travis sneered. I couldn’t help but snicker. “Sorry dude, I a bit unprepared for this.” He gave me a small smile that made my chest tighten. Whatever, not in the mood to deal with this bullshit. I looked back at him. “Okay, so I’m going to pick you up and put you on the counter, so please bear with me.” I explained. This. Isn’t. Weird. Travis blushed lightly but nodded slowly.  I put my hands on his waist, picked him up, and quickly sat him on the counter. He hissed in pain slightly, but then gave me thumbs up again.

  I got on my knees and opened the the cabinet under the counter. I pulled out rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, bandages, and stood up. “Okay, dude, you may have to take of your sweater so I can take care of the shit on your waist and stomach.” I said. Not weird at all. Travis stared at me blankly. “What? Larry, isn’t that..gay?” I laughed. “Way to make this awkward, dude.” I said. He blushed and muttered an apology. Travis reluctantly pulled of his sweater and carefully placed it on the floor. Holy shit. His torso was covered in black and blue bruises. There were small cuts all over his stomach. Oh god the blood. “Holy fuck, Travis! What the hell happened?!” He laughed bitterly. “Ran into a fucking door. Can you please just fucking help me now?” I shook my head, but finally coated a cotton ball in rubbing alcohol. He’s a bad liar.

  Travis hissed in pain every time the cotton ball touched a cut and scooted back. Now, normally I would never give a fuck if he was in pain, but it started to get annoying every time he would have to sit there for a minute before scooting forward again and the process starting over again. I sighed, clearly annoyed, as Travis scooted away yet again. I looked up at him. “Travis, I swear, if you don’t stay the fuck still, I will throw you out the window. He scowled and crossed his arms, looking down. I smirked and shook my head. I pressed the cotton ball back to one of the cuts. Travis swore under his breath and dug his nails into my forearms, but hey, at least he isn’t scooting away.

  By the time I had taken care of all his cuts and wrapped them with bandages, my arms were covered in reddish, crescent marks from Travis’s nails. I handed him a red Sanity Falls shirt and some worn blue jeans for him to wear. He offered to wear his blood stained sweater, but I wouldn’t let him. I feel like I might gag every time I see it. Travis thanked me and changed in the bathroom. As he was changing, my mind wandered. Who did this shit to him? I mean, he’s an ass, but I don’t think he deserves this. Other than me and Ash, no one really even thought of hurting him. Was it his parents? I know his dad is an ass, too, and a pastor. Maybe Travis’s not as bad as I think he is. Maybe. Also, why did he come to me?

  Travis brought me back into reality as he slammed the bathroom door opened. I winced, worrying if there was now a hole in the damn wall. “Not a word, Grease Ball.” Travis yelled. I looked over and snorted. My shirt was swallowing him. Thank god the jeans were okay. He still had the same cross around his neck that he wears every day. Travis rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Fuck off, Larry.” I faked a gasp and dramatically fell on my bed. 

  “And here I was, thinking we were friends!” I yelled. Travis smiled and sat next to me. “Hey, Larry, thank you. I don’t know where I would be right now if you didn’t help me. I know I’ve been a dick, but I’m going to try and be better. There’s a lot of shit going on right now, and I don’t know what to do.” Travis drew a shaky breath as he ran his fingers through his short, blonde hair. I thought for a moment. He’s going threw some shit, apparently. I know how he feels. I stood up, grabbed my red jacket, and threw it at Travis. “Put that on, and come with me. I want to show you something.” He looked at me curiously as he slid on the jacket.

  “Are you sure this is okay? My leg isn’t working too well.” Travis asked as I guided him behind the apartments. “It’s not that far.” I’m really going to show him a place that only Sal and I know about. God, this is going to end horribly. This is something so important to me, and I’m about to show it to Travis, the schools bully. A cliche one too. Every few seconds, he would ask where we were going, and I responded every time with ‘somewhere special to me.’ Eventually, I stopped and Travis bumped into me. He looked up and gasped.

  “We’re here. This is my treehouse. I come here whenever I need to be alone or clear my head. Or whenever I need to smoke pot and my moms home.” I explained. Travis looked at me, visibly shaken. The fuck is up with him? “Why are you showing me this? I’m an ass.” He asked shakily. I sighed and looked down. “Well, you’re an ass yes, but one who came to my room covered in bruises and blood. You’re going through shit. You need help.” I explained. Travis grinned. “Thanks, Larry.” I nodded, grabbed his hand and helped him climb into the treehouse.

  Travis stood in the treehouse and looked around, still leaning on me from trying to climb the tree. He smiled. “This place seems nice.” I nodded. “My dad helped me build before he left..” my voice trailed off. Travis stared at me. Fuck. “Larry? Are you okay?” I sighed and nodded. “Sorry, I’ll tell you later. Now, let’s talk. What the fuck happened?” He sighed and looked down. His eyes were glazed over. I reached out and grabbed his hand. Travis looked at me, his face now blotchy from crying and scarlet from blushing, and smiled weakly. I squeezed his hand and offered him a patient smile, ignoring how warm my face felt. This is normal. Totally. He took a few deep breaths and nodded. “Okay, I think I’m good now. My dad is a pastor and apart of something awful, but I don’t think I can really relive that shit right now. He’s also, of course, not too fond of gays. Yeah, he thinks I’m gay, and today he said something really fucked up, like really, and I defended gay people. He beat the shit out of me. I ran the fuck away, and came here.” Travis explained as tears ran down his cheeks. I blinked slowly. This doesn’t make sense. This guy is the most homophobic man I’ve ever met, and he stood up for gay people? That’s bullshit.

  “Travis, why did you stand up for gay people? I thought you were homophobic.” I asked, a bit of edge in my voice. I have to remember, he’s a homophobic bitch. He laughed bitterly and shook his head. “No, I don’t. I have to act this way, keep up my reputation or my dad will kill me. I feel like shit, and I’m a horrible person.” Well shit, there goes that excuse. I squeezed his hand again as more tears fell from his eyes. He squeezed my hand and let out a loud sob. Damn, his dad is worse then him. Then it hit me. “Travis, be honest, are you gay?” I asked slowly. Travis flinched and hesitated for a full goddamn minute before nodding meekly. Holy fucking hell I was right. I awkwardly rubbed circles on his back as he cried. This is normal.

  A change of subject, two hours later, and we’re both laughing hysterically as I’m trying to help Travis down the steps of the tree. I’m not even sure what we were laughing at, but damn, apparently it was hilarious. At this point I’m basically fucking carrying him trying to get down. Travis snorted and I fucking lost it. I slipped on the last step and fell on the ground. Travis screamed before laughing his ass off, his head laying on my chest. I became a bit more aware of our position. His head was pressed to my chest and his arms were wrapped around my neck. This is fucking normal. Travis’s dark eyes creased and twinkled as he laughed, his blonde locks falling in his eyes. Why do I notice this shit?    After the shock of falling wore off, I started laughing too. We continued like this till we heard an obnoxious click from behind us. “Shit,” a familiar voice muttered. Goddamn it, Sal.

[faunusrights]

OFFAL HUNT REMASTERED LIVEBLOG // CHAPTER 22

IN THIS EPISODE OF SURPRISINGLY TENDER TENDERNESS:

It had her soul by a hook, a barbed arrow digging into her flesh, gouging her bloody the more she tried to escape it.

JUST KIDDING

okay i’m just gonna HOP RIGHT IN if u dont mind me cause we in it now and i DON’T have time to catch you all up go read the fic!!!!!!!!!!!! DONT ASK ME SHIT

A direct line suited her better. From up here, with only the rain between her and the sky, the path ahead was so clear. The tether was a straight line.

a gaydar so refined it comes with its own overlay. sweet.

the planet below her resisted, no matter how she insisted

even when she persisted? 

She pushed, and the force released like a broken dam, propelling her body away from the unyielding world beneath it—she leapt, high into the air, and it was like flying. With huge bursts of Aura, she cushioned her falls and leapt again, from rooftop to rooftop, making a straight line across the city.

can u imagine yr in umbraroot having a grand old time minding yr own business and then u see Very Famous Tenured Professor of Beacon Academy, Glynda Goodwitch, pinging herself across the sky? nobody would believe u. do u think it’d b on the news.

The rain fell hard. It was pitch dark. Glynda had the phantom of a scent: like the last breath of a campfire before it died, like a kinder version of the acrid stench of Grimm, Cinder’s trail was clear as day to her. She was getting close; she could sense it, like blood on the wind.

ISNT THIS NOSTALGIC,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, wow. its like glynda’s abt to ruin vale’s infrastructure all over again,

If Cinder was in a fight, this rain would muzzle her. Glynda remembered it vividly: how frustration tainted Cinder’s face in Forever Fall, how her fire sputtered and died. Even Cinder would lose her edge here, in this cold downpour. If she was in trouble—if she—

remember when glynda realised this for the first time and was like ‘hoho’ only now its made a thousand times worse because u have a crush emotions r hell and yr in the soup now!!!!!!!!!!! YR IN THE SOUP NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

She almost ran right past Cinder—might have missed her entirely, if not for the painful yank at her own soul.

did cinder just hit the ground like a wet grape

“Don’t touch me!” Cinder’s voice was raw. She snarled the words out like a cornered animal and lashed out with one arm, hitting Glynda’s hand away. The other arm was limp, still tucked to her chest.

BE GENTLE WITH KITTY,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, lure her ass out w/ some shrimp on a string,

She shook like a frightened fawn under Glynda’s touch, ratchet tense and wholly spent of strength.

i cannot even describe how many of these scenes i am seeing so vividly in my head and my GOD do i wish i were better at sequential art cause i want to draw them ALL........................ I WANNA DRAW OUT THIS WHOLE THING!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAA

god i cant like. TALK ABT THIS SCENE WITHOUT COPY-PASTING THE ENTIRE THING BUT AAAAAAAAAA god. GOD. i just. phew. PHEW. its REAL TENDER. GLYNDA PICKING CINDER UP LIKE A LIL GRAPE AND wait diesel is this the thing you drew art of. diesel. diesel look at me is this that art--

Her fingers bunched in Glynda’s shirt. They were drenched and cold and Glynda hurt so much inside for her—whatever had happened to Cinder this night had destroyed her, that much was clear.

/sips drink see if i were an asshole id say hoohoo the karma but as i am not i say only this: babey 😔

If they recognized her name, they were determined to act normally when arranging the room she asked for.

“hey didn’t we just see her ping across the city a couple of hours ago--” “greg don’t even ask”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Cinder mumbled. “Leave me.”

“I won’t.”

ough,,,, directly in the kokoro i see

The shower was a collaborative effort; Glynda inspected for injuries while Cinder sat in the tub, warm water pelting down on them both.

other slowburns when they share a shower: hoohoo,,,,,,,, the tension,,,,,,,,, the s k i n offal hunt: what if you got in the shower with yr ex-enemy,,,,,,,,,, to inspect her wounds,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, and you were both girls 😳

Glynda gently roused her own, pressing a tender flow of it through her palms, offering it to Cinder.

Cinder’s Aura was hollow and hungry. Her soul lapped up everything it was offered. Cinder leaned back slightly, like that would help the boost go through faster; or maybe like all she wanted was a kind touch. She didn’t look back. Slowly, the various cuts and scrapes that littered her body erased themselves.

i am loving this mirroring which you probably already guessed but im like wriggling in my chair abt it all,,,,,,,,,,,,,, THIS GAY SHIT. FUCK YEA. FUCK YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEA

She turned off the shower and stepped out, gathering up the biggest towels she had found, bundling Cinder up in one and fluffing her hair again. This time the white towel came away clean. Cinder peered out owlishly, her face a far healthier color despite the purple bruising that remained around her eyes, telling plainly of her weariness.

OKAY straight up that description is so cute i physically clapped a hand to my mouth and went ‘AWUGH’ because BABY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! B A B Y

There was a gulf between them in the hotel bed.

It wasn’t at all like their nights at Cinder’s house. This was closed off. Distant. A thousand questions and answers hung unspoken in the air, heavy like the rain clouds themselves. The two of them were warm and dry, but not much else. There was little comfort to speak of.

see the real slowburn experience is having progress and losing that shit again. we take one step forwards and two back. u get the HIGH and then u get the real low but rn i hope cinders round face smiles once again. nobody who looks that baby like should ever b so sad and thats a fact 😔

Cinder, in her sleep, started crying again. It came and went in disconnected pieces, until she finally cried herself awake, startling out of her dreams.

i sent this crying cat in response to the update announcement but i never knew how real it was until now

again there’s a whole ass section where i cant pick one bit cause its ALL good but GOD this fucking. whole silent conversation theyre having. OUGH. THE SOULMATES.

When Cinder didn’t answer the question, Glynda held one arm out, lifting the blankets between them. “Cinder.”

Glynda didn’t know which surprised her more: that she had offered, or that Cinder accepted.

OH???????????

She settled quietly, face pressed into Glynda’s collarbone, her breath flitting warm over scar-marked skin. Glynda’s arm, curled around her back, weighed her down. Cinder did not hold on to her in return. She was folded up around herself, fitting into the space Glynda had made for her, taking to warmth and shelter like an abandoned child.

OH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ;w; 

also whuh-oh:

The fear was eating her alive, and bit by bit, her skin seemed to unravel, every layer of her body sloughing off into just meat, rent through by that light—it felt like teeth, like destruction, like being twisted apart in some giant’s hands like an insect having its wings pulled out. It held fury like she had never felt. She quailed before it, and it bared its teeth, black tar and grave-rot spilling from between yellowed fangs.

Glynda tried to close her eyes, to look away, to run away, but it seized her like a bear trap sinking its jagged teeth into the wrong prey, snapping a much more fragile deer bone with ease. It sieved her being out from between her ribs, drinking only the cacophony of her soul, lapping up every part of her inheritance—all the while she was fighting, struggling helplessly in its grasp, her mind mere shatterings of bright-red pain, with only slivers of meat and fragments of bone remaining of her body—torn apart by lances of sunlight, burning like fire, a dawn that came with the sound of a scream.

firstly: 👈😎👈

secondly: do i gotta say how i love how visceral this fic is? i say it like in every liveblog. BUT IM SAYING IT AGAIN FOR GOOD MEASURE. IM SAYING IT AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It was coming. It would destroy her. With ease, with relish, it would tear her still beating heart from her chest and discard it, offal from the slaughter—and then it would dig deeper still, to draw out of her that very engine that kept her moving.

is this the closest we’ve gotten to an almost title namedrop?

Glynda stared through the darkness, seeing nothing, but knowing without a doubt that her gaze pointed north like a compass.

HRM............................................. I N 👈 T E R 😎 E S T I 👈 N G

THATS CHAPTER 22 BABEY. it was VERY good. i mean rip cinder’s whole ass but i do love her. i love this evil baby. i also love glynda picking her up with all the effort of picking up a bag of crisps,

[thatsnotcanonpodcasts]

The Mask Of Anarchy by Percy Bysshe Shelley read by Zane C Weber

The Mask Of Anarchy by Percy Bysshe Shelley

    1.

    As I lay asleep in Italy

    There came a voice from over the Sea,

    And with great power it forth led me

    To walk in the visions of Poesy.

    2.

    I met Murder on the way -

    He had a mask like Castlereagh -

    Very smooth he looked, yet grim;

    Seven blood-hounds followed him:

    3.

    All were fat; and well they might

    Be in admirable plight,

    For one by one, and two by two,

    He tossed them human hearts to chew

    Which from his wide cloak he drew.

    4.

    Next came Fraud, and he had on,

    Like Eldon, an ermined gown;

    His big tears, for he wept well,

    Turned to mill-stones as they fell.

    5.

    And the little children, who

    Round his feet played to and fro,

    Thinking every tear a gem,

    Had their brains knocked out by them.

    6.

    Clothed with the Bible, as with light,

    And the shadows of the night,

    Like Sidmouth, next, Hypocrisy

    On a crocodile rode by.

    7.

    And many more Destructions played

    In this ghastly masquerade,

    All disguised, even to the eyes,

    Like Bishops, lawyers, peers, or spies.

    8.

    Last came Anarchy: he rode

    On a white horse, splashed with blood;

    He was pale even to the lips,

    Like Death in the Apocalypse.

    9.

    And he wore a kingly crown;

    And in his grasp a sceptre shone;

    On his brow this mark I saw -

    'I AM GOD, AND KING, AND LAW!'

    10.

    With a pace stately and fast,

    Over English land he passed,

    Trampling to a mire of blood

    The adoring multitude.

    11.

    And a mighty troop around,

    With their trampling shook the ground,

    Waving each a bloody sword,

    For the service of their Lord.

    12.

    And with glorious triumph, they

    Rode through England proud and gay,

    Drunk as with intoxication

    Of the wine of desolation.

    13.

    O'er fields and towns, from sea to sea,

    Passed the Pageant swift and free,

    Tearing up, and trampling down;

    Till they came to London town.

    14.

    And each dweller, panic-stricken,

    Felt his heart with terror sicken

    Hearing the tempestuous cry

    Of the triumph of Anarchy.

    15.

    For with pomp to meet him came,

    Clothed in arms like blood and flame,

    The hired murderers, who did sing

    'Thou art God, and Law, and King.

    16.

    'We have waited, weak and lone

    For thy coming, Mighty One!

    Our purses are empty, our swords are cold,

    Give us glory, and blood, and gold.'

    17.

    Lawyers and priests, a motley crowd,

    To the earth their pale brows bowed;

    Like a bad prayer not over loud,

    Whispering - 'Thou art Law and God.' -

    18.

    Then all cried with one accord,

    'Thou art King, and God, and Lord;

    Anarchy, to thee we bow,

    Be thy name made holy now!'

    19.

    And Anarchy, the Skeleton,

    Bowed and grinned to every one,

    As well as if his education

    Had cost ten millions to the nation.

    20.

    For he knew the Palaces

    Of our Kings were rightly his;

    His the sceptre, crown, and globe,

    And the gold-inwoven robe.

    21.

    So he sent his slaves before

    To seize upon the Bank and Tower,

    And was proceeding with intent

    To meet his pensioned Parliament

    22.

    When one fled past, a maniac maid,

    And her name was Hope, she said:

    But she looked more like Despair,

    And she cried out in the air:

    23.

    'My father Time is weak and gray

    With waiting for a better day;

    See how idiot-like he stands,

    Fumbling with his palsied hands!

    24.

    'He has had child after child,

    And the dust of death is piled

    Over every one but me -

    Misery, oh, Misery!'

    25.

    Then she lay down in the street,

    Right before the horses' feet,

    Expecting, with a patient eye,

    Murder, Fraud, and Anarchy.

    26.

    When between her and her foes

    A mist, a light, an image rose,

    Small at first, and weak, and frail

    Like the vapour of a vale:

    27.

    Till as clouds grow on the blast,

    Like tower-crowned giants striding fast,

    And glare with lightnings as they fly,

    And speak in thunder to the sky,

    28.

    It grew - a Shape arrayed in mail

    Brighter than the viper's scale,

    And upborne on wings whose grain

    Was as the light of sunny rain.

    29.

    On its helm, seen far away,

    A planet, like the Morning's, lay;

    And those plumes its light rained through

    Like a shower of crimson dew.

    30.

    With step as soft as wind it passed

    O'er the heads of men - so fast

    That they knew the presence there,

    And looked, - but all was empty air.

    31.

    As flowers beneath May's footstep waken,

    As stars from Night's loose hair are shaken,

    As waves arise when loud winds call,

    Thoughts sprung where'er that step did fall.

    32.

    And the prostrate multitude

    Looked - and ankle-deep in blood,

    Hope, that maiden most serene,

    Was walking with a quiet mien:

    33.

    And Anarchy, the ghastly birth,

    Lay dead earth upon the earth;

    The Horse of Death tameless as wind

    Fled, and with his hoofs did grind

    To dust the murderers thronged behind.

    34.

    A rushing light of clouds and splendour,

    A sense awakening and yet tender

    Was heard and felt - and at its close

    These words of joy and fear arose

    35.

    As if their own indignant Earth

    Which gave the sons of England birth

    Had felt their blood upon her brow,

    And shuddering with a mother's throe

    36.

    Had turned every drop of blood

    By which her face had been bedewed

    To an accent unwithstood, -

    As if her heart had cried aloud:

    37.

    'Men of England, heirs of Glory,

    Heroes of unwritten story,

    Nurslings of one mighty Mother,

    Hopes of her, and one another;

    38.

    'Rise like Lions after slumber

    In unvanquishable number,

    Shake your chains to earth like dew

    Which in sleep had fallen on you -

    Ye are many - they are few.

    39.

    'What is Freedom? - ye can tell

    That which slavery is, too well -

    For its very name has grown

    To an echo of your own.

    40.

    ''Tis to work and have such pay

    As just keeps life from day to day

    In your limbs, as in a cell

    For the tyrants' use to dwell,

    41.

    'So that ye for them are made

    Loom, and plough, and sword, and spade,

    With or without your own will bent

    To their defence and nourishment.

    42.

    ''Tis to see your children weak

    With their mothers pine and peak,

    When the winter winds are bleak, -

    They are dying whilst I speak.

    43.

    ''Tis to hunger for such diet

    As the rich man in his riot

    Casts to the fat dogs that lie

    Surfeiting beneath his eye;

    44.

    ''Tis to let the Ghost of Gold

    Take from Toil a thousandfold

    More than e'er its substance could

    In the tyrannies of old.

    45.

    'Paper coin - that forgery

    Of the title-deeds, which ye

    Hold to something of the worth

    Of the inheritance of Earth.

    46.

    ''Tis to be a slave in soul

    And to hold no strong control

    Over your own wills, but be

    All that others make of ye.

    47.

    'And at length when ye complain

    With a murmur weak and vain

    'Tis to see the Tyrant's crew

    Ride over your wives and you

    Blood is on the grass like dew.

    48.

    'Then it is to feel revenge

    Fiercely thirsting to exchange

    Blood for blood - and wrong for wrong -

    Do not thus when ye are strong.

    49.

    'Birds find rest, in narrow nest

    When weary of their winged quest;

    Beasts find fare, in woody lair

    When storm and snow are in the air.

    50.

    'Asses, swine, have litter spread

    And with fitting food are fed;

    All things have a home but one -

    Thou, Oh, Englishman, hast none!

    51.

    'This is Slavery - savage men,

    Or wild beasts within a den

    Would endure not as ye do -

    But such ills they never knew.

    52.

    'What art thou Freedom? O! could slaves

    Answer from their living graves

    This demand - tyrants would flee

    Like a dream's dim imagery:

    53.

    'Thou art not, as impostors say,

    A shadow soon to pass away,

    A superstition, and a name

    Echoing from the cave of Fame.

    54.

    'For the labourer thou art bread,

    And a comely table spread

    From his daily labour come

    In a neat and happy home.

    55.

    Thou art clothes, and fire, and food

    For the trampled multitude -

    No - in countries that are free

    Such starvation cannot be

    As in England now we see.

    56.

    'To the rich thou art a check,

    When his foot is on the neck

    Of his victim, thou dost make

    That he treads upon a snake.

    57.

    Thou art Justice - ne'er for gold

    May thy righteous laws be sold

    As laws are in England - thou

    Shield'st alike the high and low.

    58.

    'Thou art Wisdom - Freemen never

    Dream that God will damn for ever

    All who think those things untrue

    Of which Priests make such ado.

    59.

    'Thou art Peace - never by thee

    Would blood and treasure wasted be

    As tyrants wasted them, when all

    Leagued to quench thy flame in Gaul.

    60.

    'What if English toil and blood

    Was poured forth, even as a flood?

    It availed, Oh, Liberty,

    To dim, but not extinguish thee.

    61.

    'Thou art Love - the rich have kissed

    Thy feet, and like him following Christ,

    Give their substance to the free

    And through the rough world follow thee,

    62.

    'Or turn their wealth to arms, and make

    War for thy beloved sake

    On wealth, and war, and fraud - whence they

    Drew the power which is their prey.

    63.

    'Science, Poetry, and Thought

    Are thy lamps; they make the lot

    Of the dwellers in a cot

    So serene, they curse it not.

    64.

    'Spirit, Patience, Gentleness,

    All that can adorn and bless

    Art thou - let deeds, not words, express

    Thine exceeding loveliness.

    65.

    'Let a great Assembly be

    Of the fearless and the free

    On some spot of English ground

    Where the plains stretch wide around.

    66.

    'Let the blue sky overhead,

    The green earth on which ye tread,

    All that must eternal be

    Witness the solemnity.

    67.

    'From the corners uttermost

    Of the bounds of English coast;

    From every hut, village, and town

    Where those who live and suffer moan

    For others' misery or their own,

    68.

    'From the workhouse and the prison

    Where pale as corpses newly risen,

    Women, children, young and old

    Groan for pain, and weep for cold -

    69.

    'From the haunts of daily life

    Where is waged the daily strife

    With common wants and common cares

    Which sows the human heart with tares -

    70.

    'Lastly from the palaces

    Where the murmur of distress

    Echoes, like the distant sound

    Of a wind alive around

    71.

    'Those prison halls of wealth and fashion,

    Where some few feel such compassion

    For those who groan, and toil, and wail

    As must make their brethren pale -

    72.

    'Ye who suffer woes untold,

    Or to feel, or to behold

    Your lost country bought and sold

    With a price of blood and gold -

    73.

    'Let a vast assembly be,

    And with great solemnity

    Declare with measured words that ye

    Are, as God has made ye, free -

    74.

    'Be your strong and simple words

    Keen to wound as sharpened swords,

    And wide as targes let them be,

    With their shade to cover ye.

    75.

    'Let the tyrants pour around

    With a quick and startling sound,

    Like the loosening of a sea,

    Troops of armed emblazonry.

    76.

    'Let the charged artillery drive

    Till the dead air seems alive

    With the clash of clanging wheels,

    And the tramp of horses' heels.

    77.

    'Let the fixed bayonet

    Gleam with sharp desire to wet

    Its bright point in English blood

    Looking keen as one for food.

    78.

    Let the horsemen's scimitars

    Wheel and flash, like sphereless stars

    Thirsting to eclipse their burning

    In a sea of death and mourning.

    79.

    'Stand ye calm and resolute,

    Like a forest close and mute,

    With folded arms and looks which are

    Weapons of unvanquished war,

    80.

    'And let Panic, who outspeeds

    The career of armed steeds

    Pass, a disregarded shade

    Through your phalanx undismayed.

    81.

    'Let the laws of your own land,

    Good or ill, between ye stand

    Hand to hand, and foot to foot,

    Arbiters of the dispute,

    82.

    'The old laws of England - they

    Whose reverend heads with age are gray,

    Children of a wiser day;

    And whose solemn voice must be

    Thine own echo - Liberty!

    83.

    'On those who first should violate

    Such sacred heralds in their state

    Rest the blood that must ensue,

    And it will not rest on you.

    84.

    'And if then the tyrants dare

    Let them ride among you there,

    Slash, and stab, and maim, and hew, -

    What they like, that let them do.

    85.

    'With folded arms and steady eyes,

    And little fear, and less surprise,

    Look upon them as they slay

    Till their rage has died away.

    86.

    Then they will return with shame

    To the place from which they came,

    And the blood thus shed will speak

    In hot blushes on their cheek.

    87.

    'Every woman in the land

    Will point at them as they stand -

    They will hardly dare to greet

    Their acquaintance in the street.

    88.

    'And the bold, true warriors

    Who have hugged Danger in wars

    Will turn to those who would be free,

    Ashamed of such base company.

    89.

    'And that slaughter to the Nation

    Shall steam up like inspiration,

    Eloquent, oracular;

    A volcano heard afar.

    90.

    'And these words shall then become

    Like Oppression's thundered doom

    Ringing through each heart and brain,

    Heard again - again - again -

      91.

    'Rise like Lions after slumber

    In unvanquishable number -

    Shake your chains to earth like dew

    Which in sleep had fallen on you -

    Ye are many - they are few.'

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[adder24]

“She’s not the only Woman superhero”

Alright I am sick of hearing this. I’m sick of hearing people I talk to (mainly guys) Say that Captain Marvel is not the only woman superhero. Yes....Yes I fucking know she isn’t! We have Wonder woman, Supergirl, Black Widow, Scarlet Witch Batwoman etc etc. I KNOW! I ain’t an Idiot! But when I explain my reasoning behind my obsession with this woman, I just get point blank stares and I need to just put it straight. 

I’m a Tomboy. I’m straight and I find it very hard to connect to other female superheroes. Technically I should enjoy Wonder Woman or Supergirl but I don’t, I don’t because they make it very obvious these characters are women. “How?” I hear you ask....well look at their super hero names to start with “Wonder Woman” “Super Girl” I hate it being advertised that I am a woman, my body makes it obvious that I am a woman, so if I was a superhero, why the HELL would I make it bloody obvious what gender I am?! Seriously I have tits, that’s key enough to know what gender I bloody well am!

Then we look at the attire.....and yeah you guessed it, these girls are decked out in skirts or skin tight trousers and skin tight tops or corsets. Not every woman likes wearing that shit, Not every woman wants to look sexy as shit when beating the crap out of people! I certainly don’t, gimme a pair of jeans and some well worn DC skater shoes and I’d beat the crap out of goons in comfort.

Even with superheroes there is far too much stereotyping going on and I know that what I am saying maybe deemed controversial or I am spouting crap but seriously as a Tomboy who is automatically labelled as gay because I rock short hair and wear boys clothes, I find it very hard to connect to a superhero that is generally portrayed as the stereotypical image of how a woman should appear to men. Long hair, skirts, dresses, curves and all that bullshit.

So why Captain Marvel?

Alright she ain’t innocent of the stereotyping herself. She had a period where she wore a leotard, was sexualised and was known as Ms Marvel

but in 2012 she got revamped by a female cartoonist who saw the impracticability of this AWFUL costume (God bless you Kelly Sue DeConnick) And was given the uniform we associate with her today. And it suits! Captain Marvel is far far far from being girly, She likes to be one of the lads, in fact she tries to be better than the lads because she has a point to prove, that she is equal, that she can do the things that the men can do and believe it or not she is the most powerful superhero in the MCU right now.

And that’s what I like about her...she’s essentially a Ladette/Tomboy. She plays baseball, she ain’t afraid of a bit of rough housing from the lads, she falls down alot but she gets back up again because she fucking can or as DeConnick puts it

“Carol falls down all the time,” DeConnick says, “but she always gets back up — we say that about Captain America as well, but Captain America gets back up because it’s the right thing to do. Carol gets back up because ‘Fuck you.”

Link

She’s also a character with weakness, she has severe anxiety attacks due to what she has been through, Civil war 2 wasn’t exactly kind to her and then Secret empire really did bring her to her knees but despite the anxiety, the PTSD, the alcohol addiction she went through to cope with her trauma, she got back up!! This is why I can connect to her! She’s been dragged through the wars and made to suffer and she comes back just as strong! She don’t get up because it’s right. She gets up because “FUCK YOU!” Fuck you I will prove you wrong! “Fuck you! I will kick your fucking ass!” “Fuck you I can show you I can do what you do and do it better!”

I got into reading her comics late! In fact I started reading them in 2017, it was a rough year for me, I lost my grandfather the previous year and I was struggling with grief and my depression, I was losing friends cause my moods were spiralling out of control and my anxiety was making my life unbearable. I remember trying to grasps some normalacy and I went into my comic book store to escape reality and thats when  I saw a picture of her on a comic.

And I remember thinking “Holy shit there is a female superhero with short hair!” That was what drew me to her! She had short hair! So I picked that comic up and I was in that shop for an hour reading it and loving this character because I was going “She’s me.....she’s me if I was a superhero!” It was that bad that I went to New York comic con and cosplayed as her!  And it felt great!

I think that was the turning point, the fact I found a character, who was a woman that I could connect with. A woman that is not stereotypical, that kicks ass and does it better than the men she works alongside. A woman that has gone through grief, depression and Anxiety and come back twice as strong with that attitude “Oh you thought I was giving up? Wrong!!”

She’s not the only Woman Superhero no, but for me a Tomboy who’s fed up of being told to be more feminine, who’s fed up of being forced to follow gender stereotype and being presented daily through media and advertising with images of what is an acceptable appearance for a woman, she’s a welcome and refreshing break to the mould.

She’s my Superhero and she’s gonna kick Thanos’s Ass. RUN PURPLE BOY RUN!

(Awesome art by @BossLogic)

@marvelentertainment @myfriendtheurbanlegend @untilthe12ofnever @vegetarianvampireduck @detective-fiasco @aragarna @savhcaro @reeselivesforeverinmyheart @plink42 @purpleshield1548 @prplprincez @frenchfrostpudding @imelopsittacus @angelus80 @bonnie131313 @dontgetfunny @ellenveggirl @feelmyroarrrr @gutterfortunecookie @heike-251 @lisagarlandd @luckythirteen45 @msmarvel @nuggsmum

[thechillingadventuresoflili-blog]

Chapter twenty, my sweet people. Lilia is back and she knows who she is. Hope you enjoy it. Even though this chapter is probably shorter than the others. As always, this is dedicated to @zeciex, @lovelykhaleesiii, @frucienlover, @hedgewitchhollow, @heda-mikaelson, and @satanskittles.

Chapter Twenty After The Ritual

Lilia opened her eyes after the ritual was complete and stared into the black, demonic eyes of Michael Langdon, the love of her life. She smiled and flung her naked body against his, her arms wrapping around his neck. His long hair tickled her nose and she laughed.

“It’s been too long, Boy Wonder.” She whispered as she leaned back to look at him, moving a strand of hair from his face. “Your hair grew. It looks great. More to tug on than your curls.”

Michael chuckled and placed his bloody hands on her cheeks. “God, I missed your sassiness.” He leaned in and kissed her. A sweet kiss that told her how much he had missed her.

She pulled away and smiled at him, moving away from his lap. “Come on. Let’s get this blood off us. We have catching up to do.” She turned on the shower and waited for him to join her.

Half an hour and one very satisfying shower later, she was sitting in the chair before the fireplace, watching him. “What happened after you set the identity spell?”

“I met with The Cooperative and started building the Outposts.” He crossed his legs and smiled when her eyes moved down his form. “I take it you like what you see.”

She blushed and looked away from him, smiling. “And what of the witches? Where are they?”

“I thought the bombs had killed them off, but I believe at least one remains. The Grey, Mallory, is one. She damn near burned off my ass the other day.” He chuckled and looked at her. “There is a package coming in the next few days filled with apples. Venable and Mead will be filling them with venom from the snakes.”

She shivered as she thought of the snakes coming back to life after they had cooked them. “That was you, wasn’t it? You asshole.”

He chuckled again and waved his hand around. “This place was boring before I came here. Admit it.”

“You made Gallant unbearable.” She hesitated and looked at him. “You didn’t fuck him, did you?”

Michael looked at her and shook his head. “No. That was magic in the rubber suit from the Murder House. I saved it before the blast. Do you really have little faith in me?”

Lilia bit her lip and looked away. “You’re a man. The Antichrist. You have needs and I wasn’t there to fulfill them for you.”

He got up and knelt down to one knee to look her in the eyes better. “I didn’t want anyone else, but you. You are my other half. My Lilith. My lover. My Queen. Don’t ever forget that.” He leaned in and kissed her with a passion that burned through her all the way from the top of her head to the bottom of her toes.

Lilia smiled against his lips as the alarm went off for the perimeter. “I’m guessing that’s your apples arriving. “

Michael nodded and smiled, standing up and moving to the door. “You will meet me here when they are all getting ready for the Halloween celebration they have planned, yes?”

“Halloween is coming up? That’s how out of the loop we all are.” She rolled her eyes and stood up with him. “May I come here tonight? I missed you too much to be away from you any longer.”

Michael leaned down and captured her lips in another kiss, nodding when he pulled away. “Of course, you can.”

And with that, Lilia went to join the rest of the Outpost to hear the announcement from Venable about the Halloween celebration.

Looking around the room with her memories of before the bombs dropped, Lilia smiled as she saw Dinah Stevens, the Voodoo Queen, with her son, Andre. Coco and Mallory were witches. She was sure about them being the last of the Coven. She wondered what exactly Cordelia was planning when she put them in this Outpost.

At least she knew she was safe. Lilia remembered Michael saying that he would erase her from the Coven and anyone associated with them. She just hoped that it worked.

Everyone was a buzz with the party for Halloween. Some wondered if Michael would announce the people chosen to go with him to the Sanctuary. But, Lilia knew better. It was a means to an end. She was happy that all of the annoying people would be dead after Halloween. She was tired of them all. Especially Gallant, who wouldn’t shut up about the man who had fucked him and saying it was Michael.

“Like he would ever want to fuck you.” She snapped at him one day in the parlor as she was looking for a new book. “Has he come to you since you ‘found’ your precious nana?”

“Well no. But, that’s because he’s been busy interviewing the Greys.” He said with such confidence it made her blood boil.

“You moron. You really are dense. I thought gay men were supposed to be smarter when another man was into them.” Lilia chuckled as she stood up to walk over to him, not knowing that Michael was in the shadows. “Just to let you know, while you were hiding in your room, masturbating to Langdon.” She got up real close and whispered. “I was riding him and screaming out his name as I came all over him.”

“That’s a lie!” Coco jumped up to defend her hairdresser. “What would Langdon want with someone like you?”

“Everything.” Lilia told her and turned to see him standing in the doorway. “I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”

He smiled and nodded, walking away towards his office. She looked over her shoulder at the two and winked at them, walking faster to catch up with him.

In his suite, she bit her lip as she closed the door behind her. “Was I in the wrong? Putting them in their place like that?”

Michael stalked over to her and sighed. “Just as stubborn as ever. What am I going to do with you?”

“Love me. Duh.” Lilia smiled and kissed his lips softly.

“You are going to be the death of me.” He walked away from her and went back to his Macbook, sending an email to the rest of The Cooperative who had managed to survive. “I think it would be better if you stayed in this room with me until Halloween. Wouldn’t want any of them to go telling Venable about us and then them trying to kill us, now would we?”

She sat in front of the fireplace and watched do his work. “No, we wouldn’t.”

“If you continued to have run your mouth, one of the Greys would have told her.” He turned to look at her. “As much as I love you, I can’t lose you again. Not even permanently.”

“When are you going to bring back Mead’s memories? She’s a bitch now.” Lilia whined. She normally wasn’t like this, but her soul told her that something was wrong.”Michael, I feel weird. Like my skin is itchy. I don’t know how to explain it. I feel as though something will happen.”

He got up and walked over to her, kneeling in front of her. “Nothing will happen. I swear it.”

That night, the Banshee in her made itself known. The dream was awful. The witches had made their way to the Outpost and challenged Michael. He tried to fight, but when Mallory enacted Tempus Infinituum and went back in time to kill Michael before he learns he is the Antichrist.

Lilia woke up screaming as she felt the car run over her lover and his life force leave his body. Michael tried everything he could to get her to be quiet, but this scream was different than any of the others that he heard her do.

When she finally calmed down and stopped, she clung to him, sobbing so hard that her whole body shook. “They are going back in time.” She whispered.

“What? Who?” Michael pulled her away from his body to look at her.

“They are going back in time to kill you.” She sobbed as she tested every bone in her body. “They send that bitch, Mallory, back in time to kill you when your grandmother kicks you out of the house. I felt you die!”

He looked at her as if he didn’t believe her. “Are you sure?”

“Tempus Inifintuum. That’s what they use.” She got up and went over to the chair she was sitting in earlier that night, tears still pouring down her cheeks. “You kill everyone else, but Cordelia, Myrtle, and Mallory. Mallory gets stabbed and is taken to the tub in my room of all places. They try to heal her but can’t. Cordelia confronts you and stabs herself, dying to give Mallory the power to do it.”

He got out of bed and walked over to her, moving her hair from her face. “We have to stop them. You have to do it. Perform what they do.”

“I don’t know if I’m powerful enough to do so, Michael. I’m powerful, but not Supreme powerful.” Lilia was now terrified of him dying.

“You can do it. I believe in you.” Michael kissed her head and got ready for the day to deal with Venable and Mead later that night.

Lilia wrapped her robe around her and went to her room, trying to think about how to help him. She ran her hands through her hair and bit her lip as she paced her room. She looked to her bathroom and thought about how he used his rituals to talk to his father. Maybe she could talk to Lilith.

Lilia went to the bathroom and undressed. Waving her hand, she lit all the candles in the circle and stepped in the middle of it. She took a deep breath and sighed as she sank to her knees. Making lines up her wrists with her finger, she gasped as the skin split, blood pouring from her body. “Lilith, I need your help. Michael is going to die if I don’t do something. Rise from the void and help me.” She drew a pentagram in her blood like she had seen Michael do so many times before. “The witches are going to kill him. Please, help me, Lilith!”

She closed her eyes as whispers began to fill the room. She tried to listen to what they were saying, but there were too many of them. She sighed, thinking that she had failed when a gentle hand touched her cheek.

“Open your eyes, my child.” A feminine voice whispered in her ear.

Her eyes popped open and her face was looking back at her, but with dark hair. “Lilith.”

[0-kuki-0]

This is a little work in progress written by yours truly using my oc (Nolu) and my platonic die or die trying Chicken’s oc (Syx).

For context, Syx is dating both Xiao and Aether because why have one pretty boyfriend when you could have two? Please don’t mind the ooc ness for any of the characters.

Also- can someone please tell me how to add the little read more on mobile? These posts tend to be long and well.. no poor soul wants to scroll past a wall of text. Apologies for poor formatting.

————————————————————

"Hey babe!" The blonde cheered as he rushed forward and drew him into a hug, the other easily reciprocating.

He turned back to the crowd, and Syx relaxed a tad when he felt the familiar presence of Nolu appear behind him.

"This is my boyfriend, Syx! And that behind him," he stated, glancing back at a bloodied Nolu, sighing at the sight, "is a menace of society."

Nolu squawked in disbelief glaring at the blonde. "Hey braid buddy that's not very cash money of you! This blood isn't even mine?!"

Aether just slumped forward, taking a dramatic gasp before spinning around and pointing at her. Syx just sighed at their shenanigans.

"You stupid adventurer bard- that's the point!" He declared and the women placed her hands over her heart before whispering a minor 'fatal' under her breath.

"That's why your shoes raggedy Blondie!"

"That's why your god dead homophobe!"

"WE ARE BOTH GAY??"

"FUCK YOU"

Syx slinked past his boyfriend, starting up a conversation with the shocked crowd as the braided argued, their statements getting more and more outrageous.

"Greetings," he bowed his head slightly as he spoke, holding out a gloved hand.

The older (?) gentlemen, tall with long brown hair, wore a faint smile as he reciprocated the action.

The boy beside him however, jumped in front and knocked his hand out of the way, posing dramatically.

"It's nice to meet you! I'm Venti, Venti the bard!" Sparkles practically floated around the man as he spoke, a hand outstretched to Syx.

Meanwhile, he just sighed, practically collapsed in on himself.

"Another gremlin? Really? I thought Nolu would be the only one I would have to deal with in this lifetime." He pouted, suffering eternally.

The bards both let out offended gasps, Nolu jumping over travelers shoulder as she skidded to a stop before him.

"What's that supposed to mean buddy ol' pal? I'm your sibling! You're supposed to be nice to meee..." she whined, tugging on his sleeve.

"You've eaten demons for fun I think you'll be fine." He deadpans, the brunette gasping as their head back, placing an arm over her eyes as they oh so dramatically collapsed.

"Betrayed! Woah is me, a humble bard left behind by my only kin, to starve and suffer alone."

They fake sobbed from where they hung tightly on his leg.

Aether sighed before hooking his arms under her own and dragging them off of Syx. They let go easily- much to Aether frustration as they both tumbled backwards.

With a loud crash and oomph sounding as Nolu checked up on Aether- Syx began introducing himself to the 4 men.

"Greetings- as Aether has stated I am Syx. The woman over their is Nolu, my kin, please do not mind her."

The man from earlier pushed aside the bard, introducing himself as Zhongli from the Wangsheng funeral parlor.

The other two, following the brunette, did the same. Albedo and 'child'.

"That's a weird ass name- did your parents not love you or something?" He asked the ginger.

Chaos erupted as the ginger lunged at him, Syx cackling as the two fought.

-----------------------

From hastily apologizing to Aether after causing chaos to pinning their brother and some random ginger child down, Nolu thinks today could have gone a lot worse.

"You! What were you thinking- antagonizing some leprechaun like that?! If Adriyan hears a word of this she will have our heads!"

"Leprechaun-?!" The ginger let out and offended gasp- a fatal mistake, dragging an irate former priestess's attention to him.

"And you! Gingerbread boy! What were you thinking?! Attacking the traveler's boyfriend and MY brother? What are you?! A child?!"

After saying that she suddenly paused, glancing down at the fallen ginger.

"..your not actually a child are you? How old are you kiddo?"

..”Nolu I swear to god if you adopt a GROWN ASS MAN-“

[theamazingcaptdeadpool]

That One Time Shit Went From Bad To Worse

Summary: The past downright sucks when it catches up.  Pairing: Silverpool (Wade Wilson x Pietro Maximoff)  Warnings: Explicit language, mentions of torture, mentions of abuse, narrowminded shithead army fuck, injuries, this might turn into a RP thing which does not ever have to be matched in length.  Word Count: 1648

Wade was heading home – he’d spent the evening at Sister Margaret’s School for Wayward Children. It had (eventually) been a fun night, though it took him some time to get back into his game, mainly because he missed Pietro. He’d shot some pool, thrown knives (instead of darts) and won, arm wrestled some bikers, shared some of his latest adventures and mishaps – and more importantly, caught up with Weasel. As he said bye to the guys at the door everyone seemed to be in good spirits, telling him not to forget them, come back soon, bring the Silvery guy. It made him smile; how easy it was to jump back into his old lifestyle.

Wade cut through a back alley. It was faster, besides, he wasn’t afraid that anyone would jump him. I’m friggin Deadpool after all. I can hold my own. It was dark, he could hardly see the contours of the trash bins and flattened cardboard boxes that told tales of hobos and junkies. They’d be off the street at night, though. Dark shadows moved between them. Rats or cats most likely. The street lights were like small glowing dots far up ahead – it gave him the whole “light at the end of your tunnel” feeling – though he was pretty sure there was no light at the end of his. Hell, I won’t even get to do the tunnel. I can’t die. He huffed to himself.

Somewhere someone hummed an all too familiar tune. At first he thought it came from one of the apartments above him. It floated in and out of the noises of the city, but grew more solid as he walked forward. It’s tones were in minor, sad but oddly comforting. How they moved up and down felt like being rocked back and forth, safe in someone’s embrace. Maybe because that’s what he tied to them. The melody drew him to a place he thought he’d left behind ages ago. Wade froze and listened. The hum broke into song with actual words – and it became painfully evident that it wasn’t performed by the one he expected to hear it from. Even he noticed that it was accented; not native Ukrainian. The tiny hope he had that Pietro had sought him out was ripped away from him.

“That does not belong to you,” Wade spoke to the street lights up ahead, as he glanced around. He couldn’t actually see anyone… Could he? “No? I don’t think it’s yours either.” the voice was raspy, as if they’ve had too much whiskey, which wasn’t too far from the truth. He instantly recognised the owner of it. “You’re still alive, eh? I thought you drowned yourself in a barrel of Jack.” Wade muttered, still trying to figure out where he was hidden. “Why don’t you come out and play. Did you bring your tasers this time? I love that electric tingle.” Wade went for his gun and realised far too late that he wasn’t carrying. Shit. Well, the throwing knives would have to do. Wade reached under his jacket – finding that most of them had been left in the target back at the bar. Fuck. That’s unfortunate. Fists it is, then. Ladies and gents. I give you Lieutenant Trevor Blake. A tall guy. Buzz cut. Grey eyes – to match his soul. Broad shoulders and slim waist; used to lift a lot. Intimidating. The kind of man you’re silent around. That instils fear and/or respect in people. Old Trev was a friend of my father’s. They served together. Were practically bros. When I enlisted - he was the guy to make sure I got kicked down. Not that I didn’t deserve it, but that fucker seemed to enjoy taking the crap out of me as much as my father had. Maybe he held me responsible for his death… Hell do I care. Shortly after I left the military to start my mercenary business, he got kicked out too. Unruly conduct with the soldiers, they said. Drunk at the job, too. Dealing with shit from the pasts. Screams of victims, gunshot echoes. He got what he deserved. If he wasn’t such a miserable fuck a veteran, I would have taken him out myself. For free. I thought he died. How wrong was I? After I signed up for Weapons-X he turned up like the fucking pest he is. Stryker must have pulled him clean out of AA, given him the green suit and patched the stars back on him. They probably share the same fascist mind set. I don’t want to talk to him long enough to find out. Our very last encounter had him trying to get me to pass out and giving me verbal hell at the same time – and I was mouthing off. It turned ugly. Let’s say he hit a nerve, I broke free from my restraints. Beat him raw and bloody. Got knocked out of course. Punished. I never saw him again. My guess is his pride took a hit for the worse… Or maybe I actually got him hospitalised. At least I made sure no one else would suffer him.  

Trevor chuckled darkly as he appeared from the darkness, nothing more than a silhouette in front of him. A fucking ghost from his past. He hummed some of the tune to taunt him more before he spoke; “It was a cute song you homos shared back there.” Wade’s jaw clenched. “Yeah? Are you jealous Trev? Too bad I never was into the old abusive shits huh?”   “And I never was into the scarred freaks. How you holdin’ up, boy?” The last word was condescending. It took all of Wade’s effort not to cringe, not to remember all those times he’d said it like that – with the physical upper hand. “Far better than you, lieutenant mc-drunk face.” Wade pulled out one of his knives. The streetlights betrayed him – and it glittered in the darkness. “I see your insults haven’t gotten any better.” Trevor pressed. “Tell me – what are you doing with that mutant, huh? If your father knew…” “How was it you worded it? Homo? Yeah. I’m totally gay for that guy.” Which wasn’t a lie. His chest swelled with love whenever he talked of Pietro, and he knew it stung the old man. “And my father is dead.” He added coldly, and flipped the knife before he sent it flying. Trevor was experienced, and despite his age he hadn’t slowed – so he was able to deflect it. Wade felt the knife belt. He had one more. Be careful now. “Thank god. To think of how he’d feel, knowing what you’ve become.” Trevor spat. “I don’t give a rats ass about either one of you. But hey, since you care so much about him – how about you join him?” Wade tried not to let the anger he felt colour his voice. “You’re gonna take me out, boy?” he laughed. Wade’s blood boiled. He drew a deep breath, to keep focus.

Several things happened at once, once he let go of that knife. He felt a jabbing pain to his neck. He heard Trevor grunt. Someone kicked him behind the knee and clawed at his shoulders. The next thing he knew, he was facing the smog of the city, groaning. His head was spinning. He tried to feel his neck, but someone stepped on his hand. He saw two, no… four? Eight? Figures standing over him. Hallucinating. They’ve drugged me. “That’s clever of you, but fucking weak. You know I’d take you out, old man.” Wade slurred, trying not to let whatever they have injected him with pull him under. “What do you want?” He actually feared that they’d lock him back up, torture him again - - - and keep him from Pietro. Wade attempted to trash, but it felt like he was under water. He just couldn’t move properly.

Trevor moved into view. He pulled the knife out from his side, groaning as he did so. “Amateur throw, boy. Missed my vitals.” Trevor turned the knife and jammed it into Wade’s heart with massive force, drawing an awful scream from his lips. “That’s what you want to aim for. Try to get some practise in, eh?” Trevor patted halfway slapped his cheek with bloody fingers, Wade desperately tried to turn his head away – but couldn’t. Trevor searched Wade’s pockets – found what he was looking for and sniffed as he straightened up, looming over him.

“That injection we gave you? It slows your healing for a while. Won’t stop it – but it’ll make you feel like hell for a little longer.” Trevor leered, before he whispered the last four words. “Ajax sends his regards,” Wade’s eyes widened. Fuck no – not those two together. He wanted to call Ajax out, say that he was a fucking chicken for not coming after him himself – but he never got the chance to. He saw the underside of Trevor’s boot, who stepped on his face, knocking him clean out.

Trevor tossed Wade’s cellphone over to one of his guys – getting him to unlock it. He went through his messages, not surprised to find Pietro on top of his texts. He took a photo of Wade, knocked out, with the broken jaw and nose – bleeding from the face, syringe standing out of his neck and oh – the knife in his heart, wrote “If you want him, come get him.” hit send and threw the phone on top of Wade.

“Let’s move out. The mutant freak might be here in no time.” Trevor instructed his guys – and they disappeared back into the shadows. They’d have time to leave because Trevor hadn’t revealed their location. And Wade? He was left bleeding, injured, drugged and alone – except forthe rats and cats that still lurked in the shadows. Trevor smirked as he saw the little figures moving up to the body.

@runfastgivesass

[movedto-dazaipositive]

urban fantasy + jackparse

big thanks to @taggianto and @restfulinsomniac because they yelled at me when I asked them to I couldn’t have done it without you 💙 🌌brought to you by the parseposse 🌌

Bob was human before Alicia turned him

but she turned Bob only after Jack was conceived

so Jack is a halfie from the start

and in their real forms, vampires are unnerving. they have waxy, bloodless skin and sunken eyes but in artificial light they’re sparkling_heart

and Jack gets all his mom’s good looks and his dad’s love for hockey

but they know that putting him in hockey is unfair because humans just can’t compete

he never grows up with hockey as a burden on his shoulders. he’s allowed to be a geeky, chubby history nerd who loves taking photos of random stuff

Jack goes to samwell

the Samwell campus (since I can’t remember canon right now) is next to/in a lil town

right? and Kent is just this lonely sixteen y/o boy who has a little magic and he can talk to ghosts

and in Jack’s first year, this girl on campus and her boyfriend are found dead in the woods behind the Haus

and then weird shit starts going down near the Haus and their Captain, who is superstitious as fuck even by hockey player standards, is like. nope. we gotta do an exorcism

and he puts Shitty and Jack on the task because the frogs gotta be good for something, right? and so they ask around and someone gives them the game of someone who tells them about Kent

Kent lives alone. he got kicked out when he was 13 bc his dad was like, no fucking devils in my house. Kent finds this dilapidated cottage just a little bit into the woods on the other side and the ghosts there are friendly and kind and give him instructions on how to cook and which herbs to pick at what time for witchcraft and which herbs the florist will buy

and Kent survives and occasionally someone will ask him to do an exorcism and Kent will charge them to talk to some poor confused ghost who doesn’t know what’s going on

which is what Jack and shitty ask him to do, or so he thinks, so he shrugs and agrees. and I want it to keep in mind that this is Jack without hockey. he’s a slightly chubby, awkward history nerd who takes a camera everywhere and happens to be half-vampire by complete accident

he’s like, the last person you’d expect to have vampire parents

he’s adorable, okay? Kent can’t deal with this stupidly beautiful soft boy. he just can’t. he reacts in typical Kent fashion by being a jackass to Jack (ha!) who’s like ?? about it

(Kent is going to melt the first time Jack hugs him)

Kent is so going to melt, though. he’s been alone with nothing but ghosts for regular company since he was 13 and Jack is large and warm and he smells like maple syrup and almonds and he’s always wearing dorky sweaters and he’s got a slow, wonderfully calming heartbeat. Kent doesn’t stand a fucking chance

I think Jack doesn’t even need to be a vampire for this fic to work he just needs to not play hockey

anyway. Kent goes with Jack and Shitty to the woods behind the Haus and they a have a campout for 2 days where they toast marshmallows and wait for the ghosts to show up

Kent hears someone crying on the second night after Jack and shitty are asleep. he goes to investigate, like the entire dumbass that he is. who goes it turn out to be? the girl who was killed, ofc. and she’s all bloody and horrifying and shit and I won’t go into details bc I have to sleep in 15 minutes but she scary

but Kent is like, np. hey, can I help you out? what happened? starts talking to her in a normal person voice until she calms down somewhat. and she’s just getting somewhere when shitty pops up behind Kent with a really loud leaf cronch sound and the girl starts screaming again

Kent is like, good job, asshole. and they aren’t getting anywhere with the girl so they just go back to their tents, where Jack is taking photos of the fire and looking Hot As Fuck (ha!) and Kent is extremely flustered bc he is a smol teenagered boy. and they all go to bed.

Kent wakes up just before dawn, yelling. his nightmare is bad enough that he nearly strangles himself trying to get the fuck away from whatever it was and Jack and shitty don’t get what’s going on but Kent is terrified and won’t stop crying so they take him back to the Haus, where Drew, their manager, makes waffles for everyone but especially Kent

who is by this time wearing one of jack’s sweaters and also has their softest blanket draped over him like a cape

(interlude because I fell asleep)

so where I left off, Kent is sitting at the table, eating waffles courtesy of Drew, the SMH’s genderfluid manager and Lardo’s predecessor

Jack is hovering nervously bc Kent has been crying for half the night and vomiting for a quarter of it

but Kent insists he’s okay now, and Jack is hovering because he’s! worried! Kent is tiny and Jack doesn’t want anything to happen to him

Kent, between shoveling waffles into his mouth bc he’s only had them once before in his life, tells them briefly how the girl died

and the way she died is like, gruesome. it’s this horrible thing involving a high school cult and this girl was a witch with real power that got trapped in this thing and they tried to kill her but it didn’t work and it’s bad. let’s not go into too many details about it

and she told her boyfriend, who was a lax bro, and he was like, I’m gonna beat these people up, except there was a demon stuck somewhere that these stupid cultists set free and it killed her and her boyfriend

bad, long drawn out deaths

and once Kent is done eating waffles–which takes a while, because he eats a lot–he slams his fork down and says, grimly, “I’m going to kill them.” and Jack goes ummm? no? ur 16 u r a child?

they fight. loudly. there’s a lot of Jack yelling you are a child and Kent screaming, I’m the only one who can do this

Kent does not like Shouting he has a lot of bad memories of it.

shitty, walking in: we can,,,,,,all go,,,

Jack:

Kent:

and drew is like, the hell you guys are leaving me behind. I’m the only adult in this room and y'all all are kids

restful: (drew has adopted three children? somehow?? but they are all drew’s children and drew loves them)

restful: (one of them lives in the woods and needs more waffles in his life, another goes by the name ‘shitty’, and the third hangs around with the hockey team despite not playing hockey but they are all drew’s kids)

me: (the lax bro feud starts in jack’s sophomore year and it is 100% Drew’s fault. drew didn’t have to humiliate the entire team because zey were bored)

Drew uses zey/zer/zers

drew is a messy edgelord parent

so Kent and shitty and Jack and drew all go on an Investigation

(I feel like this fic should be written like an Enid Blyton novel)

so they around and ask people weird questions until Kent sees someone who has magic. people who have magic (and other supernaturals) show up in Kent’s vision with weird coloured auras.

and they go up to this dude, a Muslim guy in his third year who recognises drew, and this guy is like, yeah totally. I know about that cult of fucking weirdos that followed Allison around. I helped her get a restraining order on them

so they go track down the restraining order. the cop they meet first is this nasty cishet dude who refuses point blank to use Drew’s pronouns, casually calls Kent a slur, and won’t look at Ahmed and sideyes shitty suspiciously. this is where jack’s occasional vampire charm helps (or maybe it’s because Jack looks like a Fellow CisHet) and the cop agrees to dig up the file

Jack is not a Fellow CisHet and is very uncomfortable at being mistaken as such but he plays along because he Must

and everyone acknowledges the brave sacrifice that he’s making

restful: Jack, staring longingly at Kent’s every move. “Uh, yeah. Het. I can pretend to be that.”

me: [about Jack] me? heterosexual? yeah, uh, totally. I’m not. gay. or bisexual. *staring at Ahmed’s ass in those jeans * I’m Straight

Kent, also staring at Ahmed’s ass: I’m not

drew: you’re all dead to me except Ahmed, who can have my number whenever he wants

restful: Ahmed, wide-eyed and trying to decide which of them to stare at. “all of you can have my number, please use it.”

Ahmed: except you, Kenny. also, does anyone know to file for adoption?

the head of the (I had to google this) precinct is a butch Native American woman who shows up to ask them why they want records.

Captain: can someone explain?

Drew: please take me I’m gay

Kent explains the situation to her and she’s like, yeah totally. u can have the records. Allison’s restraining order was before i transferred here but totally

so they go thru the records and find the names of the people Allison restrained. and then they go track down those people

drew gets the captain’s number 'just in case we need some help’ but we all know zer True Motives

(Ahmed and Drew are gonna get together and work out a relationship where Drew gets to have as much sex as zey like and Ahmed gets to remain faithful to zer which is ideal for both of them, partly because Ahmed is just a lil grey ace? he’s uncomfortable calling himself that but he doesn’t like sex nearly as much as Drew does)

anyway, they have a showdown where Ahmed shows off his karate moves and Drew splits zer time between fighting (badly, needs to be rescued) and 😍@ahmed

drew is such a bad fighter because zer entire technique is to flail and screme

Ahmed loves his idiot person, okay? he’s made his peace with it

Kent meanwhile tries to exorcise a demon and he has no fucking clue what’s going on

or what he’s doing. but he cuts a deal with the demon that amounts to 'you can have the cultists but plz go from here, begone etc’. demon is okay with this, partly because Jack is being a threatening bloodsucker in the background and this demon isn’t that strong–demon boi might win. but he might not. boy ain’t chancing it

Jack and Kent become awkward friends who meet for dinner every week and they go trekking in the woods and pine horribly over each other. it’s gross. Kent is still living alone in a cottage in the woods and he still needs to be hugged about 6 times more than he is right now

but on the plus side, he has friends now! Jack and Drew and Ahmed (who’s teaching Kent magic !!) and *looks at smudged writing on hand * Skittles

and the entire hockey team.

and the Captain, who takes one look at this idiot boy and invites him home and feeds him and does it regularly enough that Kent is living there before he knows it

Kent goes back to school. he s t r u g g l e s to get grades good enough to get into samwell next year (he hasn’t been to school in 4 years ok) but he has Jack to help him study!

Jack kisses him at graduation

it’s just a quick little omg you made it kiss but Kent is! so happy! he feels like he’s bursting with it

he has everything he wants, he’s loved and hugged, he has a little kitten who’s his familiar, and even if he doesn’t get into Samwell he’ll still finds have magic and community college and he wants to become a teacher

the end

[humble-althemist]

Billy’s a Bully, But (He’s Been There Too)

Written for week two of @flippyspoon ‘s Harringrove Playing-card Prompt Challenge. The cards I drew gave me the prompt: hurt/comfort with a letter or Billy’s earring, in the woods with Will.

We we also given the option for smut, so I may have thrown in some smut at the end.

Billy takes one last look at the note he found in his locker that morning, and steps out the front door of Hawkins' High.

Woods after fourth? You're right. If we don't talk this out...  -S

He glances over the parking lot, but Steve's Beemer is already gone. He considers ignoring the note one last time, but he knows there'd be explanations due then, and it'll be easier to just talk to Steve now and get it over with. After all, this talk had been his idea. Lighting a cigarette with one hand, Billy pulls out of the parking lot and into the road.

Steve is chain smoking on the hood of his car at their usual spot when Billy pulls up, and watches as he kills the engine and steps out of the Camaro. Billy approaches him casually and nods toward the cigarette in Steve's hand like any other day, asking for a hit even though he only just finished his own one. Steve holds it out for him reflexively, and Billy takes a long drag, holding his gaze the whole time.

Billy is the first to speak, after he's held the smoke in his lungs for a beat and exhaled it all through his nose and mouth.

"I'm sorry."

He's always been told never to start an argument that way, so he figures this was as good a way as any to show Steve that he wasn't here to fight. Still, the weakness of it makes the back of his shoulders ache. Steve frowns.

"For what?" he asks.

Billy shrugs.

"Nothing," he says. "Everything. I just thought I'd start there and we could move forward. I know I'm a shit... whatever we are. Friend. Enemy. Lover..."

"You're not my enemy."

Billy smiles, but it's tight. Worried.

"Good," he says. "That's a start."

Steve nods.

"Shall we?" he indicates the woods, slipping off the hood of his car and crushing the cigarette under his sneaker.

Billy follows.

They walk in silence for a while, just out of arm's reach, the crunch of fallen leaves and the first snow of the season filling the silence between them. Usually that in itself is a kind of foreplay, but today it just adds to the cold and the strain between them. Billy curses the part of him that always makes this happen. The part that can't accept a good thing for what it is and always has to assume the worst.

Steve likes getting off with you, he thinks to himself bitterly. Hell, he even stands your presence when you're not sucking his dick. Isn't that enough? It's certainly more than you deserve!

But it isn't enough. Now that he's had a taste, Billy can't just leave it at that. Can't feel safe with this, the safest boy he's ever fucking been with, until he knows for sure where they stand. Until he knows somehow that Steve isn't just going to leave him for some girl the first opportunity he gets.

Billy's so caught up in his thoughts he runs into Steve when the taller boy stops suddenly in his tracks.

"Hey. What--" but Steve shakes his head and nods toward the clearing ahead, frowning.

There's a kid there. Billy thinks he's seen him around before, one of Max's friends maybe. The one kids call "the freak." He's curled up on himself, backpack forgotten a few feet away. Crying. He doesn't see Steve or Billy, or doesn't give any indication if he does.

Billy tugs Steve's arm and nods back towards the woods behind them.

"Come on. Kid obviously needs some space," he says in an undertone.

But Steve frowns at him and shakes his head.

"I know this kid, Bill," he says back. "He doesn't just cry. He's a tough kid. Been through a lot."

Billy rolls his eyes as Steve turns back towards the freak and enters the clearing.

"Yeah, haven't we all," he mutters so Steve can't hear, but he follows anyway.

"Steve?" the kid sniffles when he hears footsteps approaching, looking up at the guy like he's Jesus come down to save him. Then his eyes flicker over to Billy and his frown deepens. "And... Max's brother? Isn't that the guy who beat you up all bloody during the--"

"Yeah, he is," Steve sighs. And that's probably something they ought to talk about too. Shit. "But he's cool now, I promise," he assures, going down into a squat to get on the kid's level. "He's got your same name, you know. William? He's a Billy instead of a Will, but..."

Billy rolls his eyes. How old does he think this kid is, that that kind of shit will endear him to someone he's no doubt heard plenty of well-deserved shit about from Max?

"My name isn't actually William. Just Will," Will counters softly, and Billy almost turns an appreciative grin on the kid but his gaze catches instead on something else. A letter fallen out of Will's backpack, a little tearstained and crumpled by shaking hands. He bends to pick it up.

"What're you doing?" Will's panicked voice cuts in as Billy takes the note in hand, still soft but a little sharper now. "Give that back! That's private!"

Billy flicks him a knowing grin and stands back up with the note.

"What is it? Rejected love letter? A bad grade?" he suggests, unfolding it.

Steve turns to look over at him disapprovingly, and it hurts but Billy wonders at how easy it is for him to turn and look at him like that. Like maybe that disgust was just under the surface all this time. He looks about to get up and take the letter forcibly, but unwilling to start another fight in front of one of his precious kids.

"Billy..." he entreats instead.

But Billy's eyes have already caught on one singular word, and now he's reading the letter whether he wants to or not.

Hey Freak,

Stop staring at my ass in PE. I know you're doing it. We all do. It's fucking gross.

Not even another fag would want you, Freak. And I'm not a fucking fagot.

If I catch you looking at me again we're gonna teach your girly ass a lesson in respect.

Maybe I'll even tell the teachers what a fag you are.

"Billy?" Steve's voice goes softer in response to the look of rage and disgust and residual hurt that must be surfacing on Billy's face, and he stands up next to the kid, who's still sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest on the ground. But Billy ignores him.

"Who wrote this?" he asks the kid instead, and his voice is iron. He can't blame the kid for flinching, but shit like this makes him feel like a little kid again, impotently angry. He wants to hit something, hard. Starting with the piece of shit who'd write a note like this to a kid like the one sitting so helplessly in front of him.

But Will just shakes his head. He doesn't know, or he isn't telling.

"Billy. What is it?" Steve asks, stepping closer and holding his hand out for the paper.

"Some fucking middle schooler thinks he's hot shit, and that blackmailing one of your kids is an option he can get away with," Billy bites out, letting him have the letter as he steps past him to kneel in front of Will.

The kid shrinks a little where he sits, new tears in his eyes as he looks away from the angry teenager in front of him. Billy tries to remind himself that his intimidation act is hurting more than helping in this situation, but it's a hard thing to turn off when it's something he's been perfecting for so many years.

"Hey," he says, turning Will's face toward him with as soft a voice as he can manage. "If you get any more of these you tell me, okay? I don't care when or where. You find me and you tell me."

Will frowns, turning back to Billy before he can stop himself, his eyes searching Billy's in confusion.

"Why...?" he croaks, unfurling slightly. The start of many questions he doesn't know quite how to ask.

"Because that kind of shit," he points forcefully back at the letter in Steve's hands, "is not okay. And if your teachers aren't gonna stand up for you then someone ought to. I wish I'd had someone around for me when I was your age. Even just someone to talk to or to threaten the assholes at school with when they pulled this shit and worse."

Steve crouches down beside him, but Will just frowns at Billy distrustfully, like he's just lost any credibility that coming here with Steve gave him.

"You're just saying that," he says, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. "Everybody says they know what it's like 'cause they've been bullied too. But who would pick on you? You're..." he gestures toward Billy's general stature, somewhat enhanced by the fact that he's taking up half Will's field of vision at this distance.

Billy huffs a laugh and shakes his head.

"Okay, ignore the seriously hard-earned muscle, the pointy earring, whatever, for half a second," he says. "Look at me. Lips, Eyelashes, hair... I'm not exactly tall either, and all that came in the past year or two. Will, fourteen-year-old me would've made you look positively mannish."

Will looks like he's considering this, lets his eyes track over what he can see of Billy, but he's still not convinced. Billy rolls his eyes.

"Steve, I'm gonna borrow your lips for a second, man. Sorry," he says quickly, giving the other boy some warning and plausible deniability if he chooses not to take this time to come out too. And then he's turning and pulling Steve into a soft, deep kiss by the front of his jacket. One that couldn't be construed as anything but flamingly homosexual. He even slips in a little tongue for good measure.

When he pulls away Steve still hasn't moved beneath him, but his eyes don't look angry either. Good. They can talk about it later if they need to, but it seems Steve understands what he's doing at least a little. Billy turns back to their protege and raises an eyebrow at him.

"Trust me now?" he asks.

"You're-- Gay?" he whispers. He looks a little star struck, poor kid. Billy realizes he may have just gave him something to jerk to for about the next three years. Whoops.

"Since the day I was born," he cops.

"And... Steve?" Will asks, turning worriedly to his older friend.

Steve smiles a little shyly back at Will and shrugs, then thinks better of it and nods. He doesn't meet Billy's eyes, but his cheeks are going that really endearing tinge of pink he gets when he's thinking of him.

"I don't know what I am really. I mean, I love-- I loved Nancy. But now... I really like being with this asshole too," he inclines his head toward Billy with such a sweet, stupid smile that Billy can't be offended at all. "I dunno. Maybe you can do both. What matters is that you're happy, I think."

Will smiles too.

"Are you happy?" he asks softly.

Steve bites his lip and shrugs.

"Not all the time," he admits, his soft eyes meeting Billy's for a moment. "You've gotta keep it a lot more private than I'm used to with girls, and that's... tiring. But..." he turns back to Will and nods. "Honestly, I don't think I've ever been happier." He says that last almost like it's a secret between he and Will. A whisper Billy isn't exactly not meant to hear.

Billy can't help but smile. God, he wants to kiss Steve right now. Kid audience be damned.

"And count me in for Billy's offer too, kid," he tells Will, holding up the note again. "This asshole doesn't know who he's messing with, writing shit like this to Will Byers. You're the toughest kid I know, and I know a lot of tough kids."

Will smiles and ducks his head shyly, his cheeks pinking just a little.

"Thanks Steve, and Billy. I'll let you know if he messes with me again. I promise," he bites his lip. "But..." he worries, "you won't tell the others, will you? I don't really want to deal with... Not yet."

"It'll be our secret," Billy agrees, standing.

Steve nods, and helps Will up to his feet, messing up his hair affectionately.

"You bet, Byers," he agrees. "D'you need a ride home?" he offers as Will goes to pick up his bag from the ground.

Will shakes his head.

"No, it's all right, I've got my bike," he points a few paces further on.

Billy can tell the kid wants to get out of their hair now just about as much as Billy wants him to. They all need a little space right about now. But Steve is still worried.

"Didn't your mom say no more riding your bike alone?" He sounds like he thinks he's the kid's father. Billy can't tell whether he finds that quality attractive or infuriating. Perhaps a bit of both.

"I'll be fine, Steve," Will rolls his eyes. "I'm not an invalid too, just a fag." He says the last almost like he's proud of it. Man, this kid bounces back fast.

Billy pulls Steve closer too him in anticipation of his trying to go after Will, and turns a kiss into his neck.

"Come on, Stevie, let the kid go home. We've still gotta talk about us. Remember?" he says, smiling into the kiss. Somehow the prospect isn't quite as scary now. Must've been a convincing pep-talk they just gave, to make a dent even on his own internalized shit.

Steve groans in the back of his throat, but moves a hand to hold him there as he waves at the retreating middleschooler.

"First can we talk about how fucking hot it is when you bother to be good with kids?" he suggests once Will is properly out of ear shot. "Where has inspirational mentor Billy been this whole time?"

Billy smirks, bringing his lips up to kiss Steve on the mouth.

"Hiding out with doting mother Steve, I guess," he teases.

Steve makes a sound like indignation.

"I am not a doting mother."

"Mm," Billy hums. "Yes you are. And I'm a regular motherfucker."

Steve's groaning laugh turns into just a groan as Billy pushes him back against the tree they were just sitting under, and palms him through his jeans.

"Sex now, talk later?" Billy suggests.

Steve nods quickly and pulls at Billy's shirt, untucking it just enough that he can run his hands up underneath.

Billy shudders at the shock of his cold hands but lets him do it, reveling in the praise of Steve never being able to keep his hands off Billy's body for long when they're alone. Let his father think he bulked up so he could stand up to him - and in some ways he did - but what Billy lives for is this feeling.

He opens Steve's jeans and tugs, bringing them down around his thighs so his half-hard cock slips out into the cold November air. Billy smirks and presses in close to speak against his ear.

"Someone's eager," he teases, hot breath playing over Steve's soft skin. The older boy shivers against him.

"I told you protective Billy was hot, didn't I?" he grunts as Billy slides a hand between them.

Billy raises an eyebrow and pulls back slightly at that.

"You said inspirational before," he points out with a mischievous grin. "Protective though, that's interesting."

Steve blushes and squirms. Turns his attention to opening up Billy's tight jeans for him.

"Shut up," he mumbles.

"D'you need protecting, baby?" Billy purrs, relishing the little moan this forces out of Steve. He leans in and takes his mouth again. Puts a hand on either side of him, trapping him against the tree. "I can do that," he says. "Be your fucking attack dog. Keep you safe from everything."

Steve lets out an affectionate laugh. Slides a hand out from under Billy's shirt once again to feel the pockets of his jean jacket.

"Please tell me you've got the stuff, fucking hell."

Billy smiles against his neck, giving it one last kiss before he pulls back and gets out a condom and a one-use packet of lube.

"How do you want it, baby?" he asks, opening both packets quickly and skillfully in one pull of his teeth.

Steve groans a little as he watches.

"Want you to fuck me," he says. "Like this. So I can see."

He pulls Billy back in softly by the hair and kisses him like it's the only way that he knows how to breathe. Billy groans and struggles to roll the condom over his cock one-handed.

"So hot when you're desperate for it, Harrington," he growls as he pulls away to see Steve pushing his pants further down his legs.

"Mm," Steve moans as Billy slips two fingers, coated with lube, back behind his balls. "Look who's talking," he grunts out, letting his eyes fall closed appreciatively as Billy slides the fingers inside him.

Billy watches him writhe for a while before slipping them out to add more lube and another finger. It isn't long before Steve is pushing him away completely and kicking his pants off the rest of the way. His shoes slip off with them, and Billy raises an eyebrow.

"You're gonna ruin your socks," he teases.

And it's worth it for the utterly filthy smile Steve gives him in return.

"If only there was someone here who could keep that from happening," he says, taking in Billy's still mostly-covered torso promisingly.

Billy tosses his jacket to the ground and presses back into Steve's space in one movement, lifting the slightly taller boy and chasing his mouth as he presses him up against the tree. Steve wraps his legs around him with a grin like he just won, the fucker.

"Fuck me," he says, and Billy should be annoyed he's giving orders like this when fucking obviously. But it's so hot that he doesn't care. Instead he carefully adjusts them both so he's lined up perfectly, and then presses up and... Oh.

Steve is so good at this angle. So greedy and open and warm and he's panting like Billy's already making him come. They've never done it face to face like this before. Too intimate for what they were trying to kid themselves into thinking they were. But this is amazing.

He leans in to kiss Steve, and presses deeper up inside him inadvertently. Steve clings to his back and moans.

"Fuck, Billy." His cock is leaking now between them, and Billy draws a finger across the tip teasingly, licking precome from his finger with a grin.

"Mm hold on tight, sweetheart," he threatens, and Steve's walls bear down on him.

Billy holds him by the hips tightly, and slides himself almost out. Steve's needy moan is cut short when Billy slams back in, and Billy has to brace himself before he does it again. This time he goes deeper. And as he builds up a rhythm with his hips, he finds the right angle so that Steve's shattered breathing is scattered with uncontrollable mewls.

Fuck, he's hot like this. Billy always knew Steve's sounds were intoxicating, but watching his face is just as good. Watching every wave of pleasure chase the wave before across his face, and he looks almost surprised by every one, like he never knew something could feel so good.

"Jesus, Steve," he grunts appreciatively. "I'm so close. So impossibly good, baby."

Steve arches his back and tightens his legs around Billy's ass, holding him deep inside as he suddenly stills and cries out.

"Oh, fuck!" and then he's coming hot and thick between their heaving stomachs, his ass tight around Billy and his face so perfect it sends him over the edge too.

It takes a moment once they've finished for Billy to glance up at Steve with a tired smile, and lean in for a sloppy, sex-giddy kiss that only lasts a second by virtue of the fact that Billy thinks he might pass out of he has to hold Steve up for much longer.

So he lets the older boy down softly, and hands him back his shoes before pulling the filthy condom off and tying it.

"You okay?" Steve asks, pulling his jeans up his thighs, and Billy's smile probably looks a little on the drunken side.

"I've never fucked someone so hard that I couldn't walk for a week," he quips, pulling his own jeans back up. And then, because Steve still looks doubtful. "That was fucking hot, Harrington."

Steve grins and leans in to kiss him on the cheek.

"Next time I wanna do it to you," he says in a low voice just against his ear, and Billy's knees nearly do buckle. Shit, when'd that become a thing he wanted?

He can't even respond when Steve pulls away from him, so he just nods like an idiot and bites his lip with anticipation.

This talk is gonna go a lot better than he expected.

This is on my ao3 @ficsandfuckery too, if you wanna leave me comments or see other stuff I write. 

[applesandbannas747]

okay so like h o l y f u c k i n g shit these are AMAZING and I cannot believe that you illustrated scenes from Weak—I’m just so happy you liked my take on this au enough to draw these wgerfsd truly, you spoil me—i cannot get over how perfect these pictures are or the fact that you like??? we’re so fast to draw them too?? like holy shit you’re impressive i dont even have words to express how aMAZING these are and how much I love them!!!

aaahhh!! I’m really excited you decided to draw Seiji with his dagger to Nick’s throat. He just deserves daggers and im not wrong. he’s so pretty with them and no i will not explain. but e v e r y t h i n g about this is perfect. First, I’ve said it a million times but I love the blue-tinted gray scale you do with Nichoji and yellow tinted you do with Eugesse. just. aesthetically pleasing and pretty but also im a slut for them being color coded and that nod to canon in coloring them with that in mind. It’s just really pretty and I love it. Ooooh but the pose and vibe of this is just so perfect. Just. Immaculate.

Nick looks amazing, even on the deaths door. What a king. We Stan. Really though he looks so perfect and cute my heart is just melting because look at that cute smile!!! Loooook at it!!! I love. The shape of it is so darling I’m obsessed. The little show of fangs? I’d die for them. I just can’t get over the little up curve of his smile at the corner like it is The cutest thing ever—also the shape of his lips is really pretty. Like it’s just a striking profile altogether. And the little lines indicating he’s laughing are really cute too idkk why but movement lines are always cute to me. And it’s not just his smile, it’s his whole face that really sell it. Like the tilt of his eyebrows is just A++ and his closed eyes are really pretty. Like. Those eyelashes bro so pretty. His hair is fantastic and fluffy and I love how he’s clearly pressed into the couch because of the way his hair interacts with the cushion. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again but I LOVE his pointy ears. Like everything about them is top notch. I love the way you draw them because they’re nice and pointy but they feel real and they fit the character designs of fence. Like, you’re not out here drawing ridiculously long anime pointy ears, they’re just the right fit for the boys. Also love the shape of them! There’s so many ways to do pointy ears but I love the direction you chose and I do so adore the way they kind of follow along nicks undercut. Like that’s just the perfect interaction. You saw an opportunity for dope ass character design and you took it. And I love his open shirt—hell yeah to Open shirts we love that shit in this household. And the shape of the collar is really nice I like it. But my favorite thing about that open shirt? The bloody bandages. I so adore bandaged abdomens especially when the bloods showing though. We can either blame barbies or anime for that particular aesthetic but the point remains that I love it and Nick wears it so well <33 I love the layering of the bandages to look all authentically wrapped and the seeping of the blood up through them is a really cool effect too the way you drew it. He is perfect

And Seiji!! Fuck I’m so happy you drew this because I love it so much. He looks absolutely feral and I LOVE that because he’s the human here but he looks far more dangerous and angry than Nick, who has literal fangs. Really is there anything more gay than pinning your enemy with a blade to their skin? No. I think the fuck not. And by god did you capture that tension and homoeroticism perfectly. Just. The way Seiji’s hunched over Nick is great and I love that this bitch is happily sitting on an injured man. Like I know I wrote it but it didn’t even strike me that Seiji’s deadass just carelessly perched on Nick and all his injuries. Gotta love this bitch I guess. And I love the hand against Nick’s neck—Seiji does not fuck around and it shows in this picture. Like he is dangerous. I really like the shape of that hand. It just l o o k s harsh and angry. And the press of blade to skin with those angry red marks on Nick’s throat? Love it. Especially in contrast with Nick’s expression. And speaking of contrasts to Nick’s expression, my god is Seiji’s face the absolute opposite of Nick’s and I love it so much. The snarl of his lips, the angry pull of his eyebrows over suspicious and hateful eyes. Yesssss it’s all so good. Even his nose adds to it, looking so sharp and hard edged here that it makes him look even more dangerous. And his hair falling loose as he bends over Nick is a delectable detail. I just. It’s perfect. It’s all so perfect. The animosity, the high emotions, the intensity, the tension. Hhh I’m love this and do plan on staring at it a completely reasonable amount

Hhhhhoooooh boy. The beautiful full-on magical illustration of the hand kiss. I am speechless. Like i was just OWO at my computer screen for a full minute before thoughts were even capable of forming in my brain other than ‘prettyprettyprettYohmygodpretty’.

Truly, this piece is just so lovely and it feels so classic and romantic and tender. There’s just. So many emotions here and the picture really does tell a story with how everything fits together from posture to expressions to the simple action of a kiss pressed to hand. Hand kisses are just superior and I always love to see them and this one is just absolutely gorgeous and I can’t believe my words inspired something so tremendously beautiful.

So the body language is just entrancing and so brilliant because it perfectly conveys everything not said. The way Nick’s bowed over Seiji’s hand—like its reverent almost, and so obviously adoring and gentle. and the entire weight of his body is just so relaxed and easy and natural—like his stance isn’t guarded at all, it’s soft and open and sincere. And then Seiji. oh man Seiji. He’s so perfectly stiff and upright, stood tall and unimpressed, unyielding. it’s perfect. I love the way he meets Nick’s gentle touch with mistrust and stiff posture. it’s so perfect and the tension in it is superb. like Nick’s yearning is so clear in everything about him, but Seiji’s reserved and hardened and unwilling to give in to this—not yet. It’s just such a pretty picture and I cannot get over their contrasting body language. Even the fall of their arms and curl of their fingers looks different—Nick’s arm looks naturally held, like it’s loose and easy and forgotten by his side, curved organically and falling unthinkingly by his side with fingers loosely furled. But Seiji’s arm seems intentionally and more stiffly held. like the angle of his wrist and the way his hand looks more like a it’s clenching than gently curling. it’s just. they’re all such good details and I keep thinking I’m done with the posture but i am, in fact, not. The set of their shoulders with Nick’s curved and soft while Seiji’s are straight and sharp hhh and Nick’s head bent over Seiji, while Seiji’s head is upright, only his eyes moving to watch Nick down his nose.

and, naturally, their expressions just add to and build off of what their body language is already telling us (and each other haha). Like the way Seiji’s mouth is so rigidly straight, held in a neutral line that can at once be read as contemptuous and soft—and that’s one of the really amazing things about Seiji here, he really does look like a million contradictions, each piece of him simultaneously loathing and longing for Nick and it shows and I just think that’s a really special thing to have been able to capture—that duality in emotion and mind woven into every detail of Seiji’s being. His eyes are the same—that downcast gaze and heavy, lowered brow is an optical illusion, sometimes hard and glaring, sometimes soft and yearning. I love it. And i love the shape of his eyebrow here, its just Very Good. and his thick lash line <3 and of course i love that you positioned them so we can see his mole <33 And his nose really is so straight and regal, it’s beautiful and I love him looking down it. And holy shit Nick. this has got to be one of my favorite pictures of Nick. like. fuck. look at all the love and care and tenderness in his face. look at that simple and sure affection—he knows he loves Seiji and will always and no matter what. its so sweet and so pretty. i love how soft he looks. again, that inversion of human and monster where the monster is by far the softer, sweeter creature. hhh it’s just. such a lovely thing to see. And Nick really is lovely here. The gently closed eyes with those pretty lashes (and i love the shape of them, the way they wrap to make the depth and shape of the closed eye feel genuine and real) and the relaxed, wondrous shape of his eyebrows—it’s just so vulnerable and sincere, like he’s completely letting his guard down with Seiji. And his nose—I love the little swoop of his nose and pointed upturned tip, it’s so different from Seiji’s, it’s always so great to see them next to each other. but his lips. that’s gotta be my favorite part. just. the softness of them pressed to Seiji’s hand. The shape of them and the way they genuinely seem pressed to skin, soft and yielding and cushioned by the press….its just so fucking pretty. I’m just in love with the point of contact in that kiss. And also his chin and jaw look great curving from it. just hhhhhh the tenderness and freely given affection i LOVE it. And Seiji does seem genuinely unsure what to do with it all, which I also love

Which leads us right into the end kiss. I already said how much I love Nick’s kiss and the shape of his lips against Seiji, but I do. so fucking much. And the way he’s holding Seiji’s hand up to his mouth so gently? Im crying there’s just so much tenderness in that. That gentleness coming from a clawed hand is gorgeous, and Seiji is obviously unable to forget either the tenderness or the danger of Nick’s hand (of all of him really). And I do so love the claws. just hell yeah claws are badass and pretty and I love the way you drew them (the pinked fingertips look EXTRA cute with those claws), so big thank you to you for positioning his hand perfectly to se them. And it’s a really pretty position too. the turn of his wrist is interesting and aesthetically pleasing, i love it. And the hold of his hand around Seiji’s is pretty too!! again, super gentle and sweet, but it’s a full hold, capturing Seiji’s hand entirely, holding tight enough to cradle but not so tight that Seiji couldn’t pull away. And Seiji d o e s n t pull away. I love the way he’s letting Nick hold up his hand to his mouth—the reluctance of it, the unwilling relinquishment of arm to bend up and offer a hand for Nick’s touch. It’s delicate and pretty, but also unintentionally so—like Seiji’s let Nick have his hand here and isn’t doing anything to hold it to Nick or to pull it away, he’s given up control of it and so it just falls as it willingly Nick’s grasp. I really like the fit of their hands together—the different shape and color of them fit together is just A+++ and Seiji’s fingers really do look graceful, and Nick’s are pretty too and just. its all about the h a n d s. Also love the little blush spread high on Seiji’s cheeks even as he watches Nick kiss his hand with willed indifference, he’s clearly not unaffected by the kiss or by Nick. and i love that. seiji looks so pretty in blushes.

okay I am obsessed with their clothes. Because first of all, hell yeah I love that they’re in traditional fantastical clothes instead of modern clothes because as hard as fae au bops in an urban setting, there’s something classic and pretty in having them in another world or at least another time, which is definitely how i imagined this iteration, so i love to see that reflected here as well. and by god the clothes are gorgeous. I love the blowing and loose blouse aesthetic always and it’s gorgeous and perfect here especially—it just fits with the magic. And the patterns are so lovely. I am not as creative with fashion as you so I never would have thought to put them in such gorgeous shirts, but fuck am I glad you did XD seriously, i love when you pull in Romanian-inspired fashion because it’s so pretty and quite frankly rather suits fantasy settings like this. And THEYRE WARING THEIR COLORS ugh i will never grow tired of that i fucking love it and I love how you incorporated it in this picture. And okay i love also that these shirts are of the same world but the differences in them as worn by each boy is stunning and subtle. Like Nick’s open shirt? we love to see it. and we all know Nick WOULD wear his shirt open like that, but the cut of the collar and how it falls open is really pretty. And then there’s Seiji who’s in a shirt with a secure and non-negotiable neckline much higher than Nick’s open shirt—more strict and structured than Nick in this as in all things. And also I like the fall of their sleeves. Once again, Seiji’s more covered with his longer sleeves (and I love how they loosely cuff at the bottom to really drive home the poet like sleeves), while Nick’s fall above the elbow more loosely and carelessly (i love the open shirt and elbow-length sleeves because its reminiscent of canon how he wears his uniform button down XD). also like how Seiji’s shirt has that band at the bottom. its just pretty. And the designs are so intricate and lovely, I love the different designs of each, but how Nick’s got a flower on his shoulder and Seiji’s got them on his sleeves—like. they’re different but still match in their way <3 ahh the pants dude. I love Nick in simple brown trousers that look comfortable and well worn—it also blends really nicely with the colors of his shirt. But then Seiji?? honestly the little lines of silver detail aren’t all that extravagant, but they make his outfit look more intricate and pretty. I love it. I love that Nick’s royalty but Seiji looks more like a prince here than he does. just. such brilliant and lovely detail in that little pattern, cant get over it. and the folds on the fabric look perfect as always and the shading/lighting is used so skillfully to sell those folds. one of my favorite parts is the diffused light hitting the front of Seiji’s pants and the way it branches off at the top like over the thick fold the front of pants like to bunch in—just wow what a great eye for detail you’ve got.

And actually all the lighting and shading on this is beautiful. You are unfairly gifted at coloring and lighting, you know you’re signature ligthing style is just about my favorite ever because of the soft abd magical cast it has. Just. So pretty and gentle. I love the soft diffusion of light across the boys. It’s so fucking pretty. And the highlights are so pretty and saturated in places (like on Nick’s arm) it just makes it pop and her so pretty. Abd the way the light and shadows are blended over skin abd fabric? Beyond lovely. Like it looks painted just splendidly done. And the texture of blush you used for line art is really pretty and fits the vibe of this piece perfectly. Like a little softer snd rougher—more textures—than usual, it furthers the soft snd hazy magic of the light and of the moment. And then on top of that we’ve got the pretty tinted lines—I live that shit. You just. Make it all work together to create master pieces. And again the lighting and shading is so fucking pretty, I can’t stop marveling. Like Nick’s neck and jaw?? Witchcraft. And the sparkles!!! I love the sparkles. And the way the lights coming in from behind Nick and it blends out in a gradient of golden light—so super pretty

Just a couple more things: I live the hair. Both have such perfect hair. I live Seiji’s falls in his style and swoops behind his ear, but there’s some fluff to the other side of it behind his face <3 and his hair in the back showing in wisp away strands that mold back into the body is so pretty and cute too and I love it. And the light hitting it is so pretty as well!! Then Nick!! My fluffy boy. I live him. I live his hair and the little strands that show throughout it. And the way the lighting is lighting it up is so pretty. Like there’s a lot going on there with lighting and shading and it’s amazing. And I love the little peeks of collarbones and neck tendons. You know I always love those details <33 and I’ve waxed poetic so much about Nick’s ears I will spare you from hearing it again but I love the shape and the direction of them and the coloring on them is really cute too. And his TAIL!!! I love it. I love a good tufty tail. They are just simply the best and omfg Nick just looks so fucking cute with one. But it’s as pretty as it is cute here. The way it’s looping is so pretty (and I bet it’s unintentional but I love that it almost looks like an infinity sign because Nick will always love Seiji). It’s just so graceful and subdued here, I love it. Snd the little tufty!! I love how you colored it with lots of different browns and golds but it’s just really pretty, but it still matches with his hair so it makes sense. Just. I adore it. I cannot resist a good turfed tail and Nick’s got such a great one

Aaaaaaaaa I just love this So much you don’t understand thank you a million times for drawing these gorgeous pictures and I’m ridiculously happy you liked the fic! 💜💛

Weak by @applesandbannas747 on AO3

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l i s t e n this au was already one of my personal favs for a number of reasons cough tufted tail nicholas cough so there now being a fic just made my entire mo n t h. i am going to reread it so much i already feel it in my b on e s. i just want to say that the fight scene is *kisses fingers* b e a u t i f u l and i am absolutely floored at how well-written it is. i know a lot of writers struggle with that stuff, but goddamn it's written so incredibly stupidly well here. and also the tension between nicholas and seiji? oh h oh oh hoho perfectly mirrors what i had imagined in my many hours of thinking about this au.

so, jack, please take these as a big fat thank you for making my monster hunter au dreams come to life in writing and take all my love while you're at it too 💛💛💛