#I love u liquid death my beloved

[oldxenomorph]

Folks, I think I’m turning into a Liquid Death drinker

[mikashisus]

Memories of You

“i’d cut my soul into a million different pieces just to form a constellation to light your way home. i’d write love poems to the parts of yourself you can’t stand. i’d stand in the shadows of your heart and tell you i’m not afraid of your dark.”

— andrea gibson

summary: In which, Barbatos reflects on a distant past, a time where he felt the cruel sting of first love.

pairing: venti x fem!reader

content warnings: death, angst

wc: 1.7k

author’s notes: this has been sitting in my drafts for awhile. decided to post it here since i dont want it to go to waste yk.

i recommend listening to iris by the goo goo dolls while u read! enjoy! <3

Aether shuffled his way through the busy streets of Mondstadt, craning his neck to look for the ever playful bard.

This time of year had rolled around once again: the time of the Windblume Festival.

Mondstadt was a romantic and free city, without the rule of royalty. And although many years had passed since the people last saw their beloved archon, he still wandered the streets as a carefree bard— an archon hidden in plain sight, though his "disguise" actually should've given him away a long time ago.

At the sound of singing, Paimon gasped and grabbed Aether's attention by pulling on his arm. "Look!" She pointed ahead, where Venti had been standing in front of the mighty statue of Barbatos. "The tone-deaf bard is performing again! Let's get closer!" She floated above the heads of the crowd, glancing back at Aether while he struggled to get to the front.

Akin to Venti's many other songs, this one told a story of a harrowing tale. Of a love found through festivals and flowers, of a maiden with stars in her eyes and a smile as warm as the sun.

She was as beautiful as the sky on a cloudless night, with grace like that of royalty. Every word she spoke flowed off her tongue like liquid gold, and each press of her fingertips were as light as a feather. Crafted from the finest marble and made to be worshipped like a goddess.

She fell in love with a boy, one filled with determination and courage. A boy who cared a little too much for others and never for himself.

A boy who sought freedom, up until the very end.

The story continued, with the girl clueless as to the boy's death. Not having witnessed his final moments and final words, she was left in the dark, never to know he passed on because his form was taken on by someone else.

His memory was preserved, and she found him after a long while of wandering on her own. Tears were shed, and wine was brewed in celebration, and as the Anemo Archon bestowed a blessing of protection onto her, he whispered to her through the wind and together they created what was now known to be the Windblume Festival.

The people of Mondstadt joined in, and the tradition was carried down through the generations. The song ended on a happy note, but Aether could sense there was something more to the story.

As the people around him clapped for Venti's stellar performance and eventually dispersed, Aether took his chance to finally speak with the bard.

"Ah, Aether! Paimon!" Venti greeted with a smile, his voice a little strained. There was something clearly wrong. "How are you enjoying another Windblume Festival? Is it as exciting as the others?"

Paimon hummed excitedly. "Mhm! It's so nice seeing the city decked out! And I bet you're having the time of your life with all this wine too!" She pointed accusingly to the wine left at the foot of the Barbatos statue, along with multiple bouquets of cecilias.

Venti laughed nervously before clearing his throat. "Shh!" He brought a finger to his lips and spoke softly, "Don't blow my cover!"

"Who was that song about?" Aether questioned, getting straight to the point instead of beating around the bush.

He knew Venti was familiar with whomever was in that ballad, as he knew many people throughout history and was knowledgeable on many events. He knew how the Golden Apple Archipelago was formed (because he was behind it), the history of all the festivals in Mondstadt (because he created them), and especially— what happened 2,600 years ago during the reign of Decarabian.

Venti's face fell, a solemn smile adorning his lips. "Ah, that. Nothing gets past you, does it?" He tried to lighten the mood with a small laugh. He sighed, "Meet me at Old Mondstadt. I'll tell you the story in full there. But first, there's something I must do. I'll see you there."

Aether nodded, watching as Venti disappeared into a gust of wind and dandelions. He followed the bard's orders and began to trek into the mountains, ignoring Paimon's theories and complaints on the way.

The wind blew especially hard here, a testament to the ruins that withstood time. He wandered the outskirts as he waited for Venti, taking in the breathtaking scenery.

A gust of wind blew his braid around, and he squinted his eyes until it died down a little. There was no doubt in his mind that that had been Venti making a grand entrance. He turned to his right, and sure enough, his suspicions were correct. The lonesome bard stood there with a look of nostalgia in his eyes and a small bouquet of cecilias in his hand.

"It was over two thousand years ago, before the fall of Decarabian," he began, his tone turning serious. Aether could tell he was no longer talking to Venti, and was now speaking with Barbatos. There was always a notable difference between the two.

Venti was a carefree bard who represented the true meaning of freedom. He had no worries and lived everyday to its fullest. He traveled the world and sang songs from the past, present, and even the future. He was jovial and exceptionally fun to be around. Barbatos on the other hand, was on the calmer and wiser side. He was full of regrets, and although being labeled the god of freedom, he wasn't free in the slightest. He carried the memories of his fallen friends, and held a deep rooted fear of the heavens above. He's seen the cruelty of the world, experienced it for himself, and drank his worries away until he felt numb.

He was kind and gentle towards his people, loved them with all his heart and protected them from threats. He promised them everlasting freedom, even if it meant giving up his own in turn for it. He never abandoned them, and always listened to the prayers they whispered along the wind. He tried his best to answer said prayers, giving hope to his people and blessing them with joyful days. He walked among them, saw them as equals and never as inferior.

Among the gods Aether has met, two have struck a serious chord within him. The gods of freedom and wisdom, two who were the kindest and most loving.

"I met a girl..." Venti continued, taking a sharp inhale. "Well... my friend did. The two of them met during the rebellion. They loved each other dearly, and before I knew what was happening, I had also fallen in love with her." He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts.

"I watched as they lived out their days happily together, despite what was going on. I thought it cruel to wish that was me loving her instead of him, but... I supported them, because that was the only thing I could do." He swallowed the lump forming in his throat. "And then it happened... my friend passed, and his final words to me were a song. I ascended to godhood not long after, and brought his memory back into the world."

"And now his form represents what the Anemo Archon looks like..." Aether said softly, receiving a slow nod in return. It was crazy to think about that: that the Anemo Archon statue in the city, and the statues of The Seven littered throughout Mondstadt depicted the nameless bard's form, and not Barbatos'. In fact, he never realized that until now.

"I couldn't let his memory be forgotten." Venti shook his head. "And now it never will be." A small silence passed as the three of them let that fact sink in. Venti closed his eyes and continued his story. "After his death and my ascension, I found her again. She was older— she was a mortal after all. And her beautiful features had not changed at all. Our reunion was bittersweet, as it wasn't me she was looking at, but my friend. It hurt, but I dared not tell her my true identity.

"We continued on, and I got to love her in his stead. I wrote her poems and sang her ballads, even sung some of the ones he dedicated to her. As the Anemo Archon and the god of freedom, I sought out peace and freedom for my people. I made festivals, one of them being the Windblume Festival. I dedicated the festival of love and cheer to her, and in the song I wrote about her, I tweaked the story a little.

"I changed it so that both her and I created the Windblume Festival. That way, she would always be a huge part of Mondstadt's history. Just like my friend."

"What happened after?" Paimon asked, a little too invested into this story. So much so, that she didn't realize how much of an impact her question had on him.

He bit his lip, his eyes turning glossy as he looked down at the cecilias he held tightly in his hands. "She died, never knowing what truly happened to the one she loved, and never knowing that I am Barbatos." The wind picked up, a clear sign of his bubbling emotions, and he made quick work to calm down. He couldn't be seen like this, vulnerable and upset. It tarnished his image as a jovial bard.

He led them inside the ruined tower, descending a few sets of stairs until they reached a spacious room. He walked ahead as the other two gawked in wonder, and knelt down next to a masterless vision. Her vision. He placed the bouquet of cecilias overtop of the vision, closing his eyes and paying his respects before he stood back up.

"It's okay, though. She didn't need to know that I am Barbatos to know that I loved her."

author’s notes: didn't realize until after i wrote this that the windblume festival was created FOR the anemo archon & not by him 💀 mb ig

barbatos created ludi harpastum tho, i do know that. i think i got the two mixed up when writing but wtv. we'll just pretend he created the windblume festival lmfao

this was written before the events of 4.0.

masterlist!

[pumpkinspice-prouvaire]

What are your favourite fanarts? Or, even better, what are your favourite fanarts of your own fics?

omg anon I am about to YAP.

The fanarts I love more than anything are big group shots of Les Amis. Shout out to fanartists for depicting every single one of our favourite lil guys u are doing the lord's work FR

Some of my faves are:

boopliette (give me a parisien rooftop at sunset or give me death)

nopeemi

also anything by batcii,who sadly is no longer on tumblr but occasionally their posts come across my dash and every time they do I SCREAM.

ExR wise, some of my faves:

beloved shamedumpster!!!!

the-march-hair

weisbrot (omg this one was for me for begging for ballet au lmao)

and I have been lucky enough to have had some wonderful art made for my fics which is just????? literally so insane to me lmao

first of all, the art done by my exchange partner for all three Take My Hand events!

blood-suits-and-tears (art from my lithromantic R fic)

mrsferocious (from my ExR as FWB who don't know how to communicate fic lmao)

nopeemi (from my assassin au)

p-trichor (a lil enjolras from my greek god R au and he's just so pretty)

it was at this point anon that tumblr decided to be a functioning website and wouldn't save/post my COMPLETED answer with the REST OF THE ART I WANTED TO INCLUDE. I hate it here sometimes I s2g. I gave up after 5 attempts so if you want to see the rest of the art I linked hit me up again ig but I hate it here lmao

[sadomatica]

NOOO SADO YOU BROKE MY HEART 💔💔💔 i forgive u tho, ocelhira death pact can be rly hot and maybe even a little emotional

Which bring us to the core: What Ocie could do to Liquid dressed as Master Miller....do u have any thoughts abt it?

- ocelhira anon

SHSJKFHDJFKSHK IM SORRY NONNIEEE IF ITS ANY CONSOLATION I JUST READ AN OCELHIRA FIC LAST NIGHT THAT I ENDED UP ACTUALLY RLY ENJOYING…LIKE I SAID WHEN ITS DONE WELL ITS A NICE TREAT!! Just not my Favorite flavor of yaoi ice cream yanno....

HOWEVERRRR…..I fucking LOVEEEEEE ur core concept u just KNOW ocie was doing all kinds of freaky shit with liquid in miller drag. I love imagining that ocie literally Gifts liquid the sunglasses like "Got a little present for you boss… :{)" and likky tears open the little box and scoffs at whats inside, tries to play it off like "Ah yes....this will be quite helpful..." but inside hes squealing like ocelot just got down on one knee and proposed with a giant diamond ring, its the kind of perfectly fucked up romantic gesture that keeps him constantly coming back for more......So of course when ocie eventually suggests he keep the sunglasses on, keep his hair tied back when they're heading in for the night, hes just like....Yeah alright Old Freak (affectionate). And oceliquid sex is usually pretty depraved as is but the addition of the miller disguise just sends ocie into a sadistic frenzy- he restrains liquid in all kinds of impossibly painful positions, punches his tits and grinds his spurs into the backs of his thighs while he sits and has him fellate his gun, both reliving miller's delicious final moments and acting out every fantasy he's ever wanted to fulfill with this beautiful trashy roided up imitation of miller...Gawd. Master musclebimbo miller.

It's a total farce, the ultimate act of disrespect and making a mockery of who kaz once was, and that (and the knowledge that kaz would be turning in his grave if he knew just how many gross old perv loads were being shot on his beloved ray-bans) is just utterly addictive to those two haters. And, erm, if I may pepper in my own mental illness creative liberties here...it makes them (or at least ocie) a little nostalgic, thinking back to their humble beginnings in the 80s, their first initial bond being formed over the common ground of kaz being a bitch (IN MY 84 OCELIQUID BRAIN PALACE DONT COME FOR ME SAYING THIS DIDNT HAPPEN OKAYY)....OKAY I'LL SHUT UP NOWWWW....UNLESS....? :333

[onihitokuchi]

morbus (I. U.)

A/N: Thank you for the requests, dear anons! I hope none of you mind, that I used both of your requests to write one one-shot. I just thought the two would work perfect together. I hope you like it! Second A/N at the bottom.

(I don´t own Naruto nor the characters in this story except for my own characters.)

Prompts: #16 - “Bad dream?”; #17 - “Don´t lie to me.”

Words: 1.409

TW: Blood, indication of death

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･.･ﾟ: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆:*⋆.*･ﾟ⋆*･:*⋆.*:･ﾟ: .⋆:*

It was never Itachi´s intention to lie to her. 

In fact he had never lied to her. Not  a  single  time. 

For the Uchiha, it felt more like withholding unimportant information or giving spare excuses.

Up to the first time this horrible cough had rippled through him, Itachi not once gave a second thought to the harsh throbbing pain behind his rib cage as he took each breath, or the ache in his heart that would spread through his whole body when he moved in one certain way.

However, as he felt this hot liquid, burning its way up to his throat - the taste of it much too similar to blood, the Uchiha had thought - he knew, it was only a matter of time now. 

And he was sure of it, he had to change his plans.

With the current knowledge, that it was possible that not his beloved brother would end him, but this sickness as it slowly became worse and worse, he started to search for something that would change that fact.

Nevertheless, what he did not expect, was that the various pills, teas and drugs he took - that he had thanked the lonely old woman, that lived at the edge of the woods, for giving him - would prolong the ultimate outcome, but his symptoms would only worsen with time.

Don´t understand it wrong, Itachi did not care if Kisame, Konan or any other member would find out about his suffering, and neither would they care when they would get to know about his sickness.

What Itachi did care about, would be whether his partner would notice or not.

 The stress that would come with his concerns weighted his shoulders down even more. 

He hadn´t even thought about how hurtful it would be for her, knowing that they both would not spend their life together as she had thought before.

Of course, it was clear for the both of them, that living this kind of life would not bring them the happy-ending everybody wished for. 

But Itachi had at least hoped, that he would have a little more time with his lover...

Still, as the days slowly blurred together more and more and his pain would gradually get worse, the nagging thoughts in the deepest corner of his mind would move to the surface as fast as the pain would come. 

What if she finds out? 

It would break her heart if you tell her.

She wouldn´t think of you the same as before, after lying to her for so long.

I am not lying...

If you tell her, you will lose her.

What if she wants to help?

...

There is nothing that will help.

He was a master at hiding - nobody would say anything different -, whether it be his emotions, his thoughts or in this case: his illness.

And at first, it worked.

He religiously cleaned up after himself. When he would start to feel a bloody cough gripping at his lungs, he would excuse himself and leave. The times he would be on a mission with her together, he would refuse to show how painful it actually was to keep up with her speed.

He would laugh with her, even if it felt like it ripped him apart from the inside. He would play his receding eye-sight off, saying that it had run in the family. 

You don´t need to worry, he had told her with a small smile.

He would make love to her,  but only in the dark where his pain-stricken face would be hidden in the shadows. 

But... things changed with time.

Eventually, his carefulness receded and Itachi started to isolate himself.

The bloody tissues, where he had coughed his lungs out a few hours ago, would lay on the ground. He had stopped taking her with him on missions and even refused to train with her. The intimate nights together, with loving touches and gentle strokes were long forgotten.

It became only harder for him. Harder, trying to hide the pain. Harder, trying to hide the blood, that would often mix with his tears when he used the mangyeko sharingan too much. Harder, to give the woman he loved so dearly everything she wanted.

And then, she started to notice.

The blood that would stick to the sides of his mouth. The dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, that seemed to get darker every day. His lack of appetite, which lead to Itachi getting thinner and thinner.

She tried to ignore all these signs, thinking that if her lover would have a problem, he would tell her. 

And after all this time they had spent together, she hoped that he would know, that she would help him. Through anything.

You need to eat more, Itachi.

Did you sleep last night?

You know, if something is bothering you, you can always come to me.

How are you feeling?

But even after all these efforts, it seemed as if Itachi would go into himself more and more. Yet, she would still attempt - slyly - to aid him through any difficulties he might have, and wait for him to open up.

She had tried, not to push him. Afraid of losing him even more. 

Despite her intention, she could stay patient only for so long.

It wasn´t the first time Itachi would shoot awake in the middle of the night. His long hair sticking on his sweat-laced body.

And to the woman lying next to him, it was as clear as that night that it would not be the last.

So she turned around, propping her elbow on the thin mattress to put her hand under her chin. 

Her eyes found the man´s face next to her. She couldn´t differ if the streaks on his cheeks were the sweat running down his face or maybe his tears.

“Bad dream?”, she had asked as she laid a comforting hand on his shaking back, moving up and down his backside. His ribs and spine felt even more prominent than the last time this had happened.

It would be amusing, Itachi thought as he tried to catch his breath. If the circumstances were different.

Because no. It was not a bad dream. In reality, it was one of the best dreams he had in the last few days. 

For him, being able to clearly see the woman that laid next to him - to feel and touch her, to love her - without any pain and second thoughts, was one of the best things Itachi could think of.

The night - the dreams he was in - was the only time now the man could be truly happy.

The dreams in which he would sit under the big oak tree, next to his love. 

Being able to distinguish every single leaf on the trees surrounding both of them. Being able to see the different shades of green in the grass and identify the four-leafed clover that sat in the ground next to him. 

Or being able to identify the different birds that flew through the sky, trying to chase each other.

That was not something he would call a ´bad dream´.

It was the cruel reality, that would creep on him in his dreams that would wake him so suddenly and make him such a mess.

So, he told the truth.

"No.", a little smile danced on his lips. "Don´t worry, my love."

The hand on Itachi´s back stopped in its tracks. A deep sigh reached his ears.

"Itachi...", the hand that previously was on his back moved now to his hand that laid in his lap. "Look at me, please.", the woman whispered as she laced her fingers through his.

More tears streamed down his face as he looked at her face. For him, the only thing he could distinguish were the rough outlines of her eyes.

Those eyes, he closed his ones as he remembered them. The most beautiful eyes I have ever seen.

His eyes opened the moment he felt the woman squeeze his hand.

"Please,", she breathed. "Please, don´t lie to me."

He chuckled, the motion of it brought the pain back. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Believe me.", his hand reached over, grabbing her head carefully and bringing her forehead to his until they were touching. He closed his eyes once more. "I had a really good dream."

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･.･ﾟ: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆:*⋆.*･ﾟ⋆*･:*⋆.*:･ﾟ: .⋆:*

A/N: Ok, so, I have no idea if what I wrote is exactly what the two anons had requested, but I just started to write it and fell so in love with this idea. I tried to write a lot about how Itachi´s sickness would limit his normal day-to-day life and how he feels.

I hope you liked reading it. And as always: feel free to comment or write me what I could do better. Also: Submit a request if you want!

I researched a bit, about what kind of sickness it is believed he has and used the symptoms that were discribed there (If you want to read the post, just ask and I will post the link.).

Thanks for reading.

[shadyteacup]

I am a major Fyodor simp... so can I request some fyo fic?

Honestly, anything Fyodor..

I LOVE YOUR WORK!

Have a good day!

You shall ask, n I shall deliver.. Here's some Fyodor angst! Hope u like it💕

My Favorite Poison

Fyodor x GN! Reader

TW: angst, and death... also manipulation and immense God complex...

Enjoy mi amor :)

You and fyodor loved each other. You were the perfect couple. He was a tall, handsome, lanky man, and you complemented him perfectly. Both of you couldn't be happier with your lives right now.

So why did your smile never reach your eyes when you talked to him? Why did his expression look more commanding than loving? Why did he never leave any important documents near you? Why do you never kiss him like you used to?

Why does being with him feel like a burden?

It's simple, really. You both had met a few years ago and fallen in love with each other.

What you both didn't realize at the time, was just how cunning and dangerously manipulative the other was.

You both were probably attracted to each other because of how similar you both were. Both of you had a God complex. Only now do you realize, that you two were powerful, headstrong gods, with opposite views of the world.

You believed in a clean world, devoid of evil. So did he. But in your eyes, he was evil too. Anyone who disturbs the serenity of the world is evil. It was all about balance for you. You believed in equal amount of good and bad. And that's how the world is. It is a lot of bad mixed with a lot of good, making it neither, as a whole. Anyone who tampers with this balance, is a criminal.

You, being the all knowing, were the only one exempted from this rule. For you created some ruckus, and watched how the world reacted. It was amusing for you. The way the mortals scrambled to keep up with pretenses, and killed to maintain decorum. The irony was humorous. It was your way of testing your people. Throwing them under the bus, and observing just how far they would go to survive.

Fyodor wasn't the same. His methods were all aimed towards changing the way of the world. He was aiming to break this cycle of good and bad, and believed that he could make all the bad go away. How foolish of him.

If you two ever decide to come to a middle ground, and work together, you could achieve great things.

But both of you couldn't accept another God, one who is equal to yourselves. For each of you, there existed only one God, and that was your own self. Neither of you could tolerate the presence of the other. But instead of discussing this issue, you both decided to play games. Both of you, being super manipulative, created a fake world, wherein both of you were an ideal couple, loving one another, caring for each other, sipping wine and having lively conversations. You two were living the 'perfect life of a perfect couple'.

Currently, you were seated at the large marble table of your spacious living room. You were clad in expensive attire, and seated opposite to you, Fyodor adorned a fancy suit. You two were celebrating your third anniversary. What a better way to celebrate it, than over a vast variety of mouthwatering multi cuisine spread and the finest red wine?

Your silk gloves shone in the pretty lighting of the chandelier lit hall. Fyodor looked dashing in his black suit, and the color of his tie perfectly matched the violet of his eyes. If you didn't know any better, you would have fallen for him.

But you did know better.

So you flashed a dazzlingly fake grin at the man seated opposite to you.

"What a lovely evening."

He mocked your expression, and held your hand in his, two gloved hands uniting atop the wide table.

"It indeed is, my beloved. "

Soft violins played in the background, as you both began your celebratory meal.

You stare at him as you sipped the red liquid. Observing his looks, almost as if you were memorizing his features. Oddly enough, he was doing the same.

"You look really beautiful today, my dear."

Fyodor says as he cuts himself a piece of the syrniki, dipping it in the blueberry jam that you had specially prepared for him.

You felt happy, in that moment. Your hatred for him remained constant and clear.

He observed your face, noticing the raw, elegant beauty it held. He remembers the times he spent spent with you over the last three years. Those days were truly splendid. So why did it go wrong? Why did you both hate each other? Why are you both so close, yet so far?

You and him were perfect, until you realized his point of view towards life. You believed that people born with abilities are gifted individuals. He considers them to be a curse. Abilities are immensely unfair. He wanted to rid the world of its unfairness. You, on the other hand, saw beauty in imperfection. You despised evil. Evil, in your terms, was something that changes the frangible balance of good and bad in this world. You believed in karma, and enjoyed watching from your throne as it righted all wrongs.

Fyodor was set on changing the dynamics of this impure world. You couldn't let that happen. You enjoyed it the way it was.

He knows that if he wants to be successful in cleansing the world, he would have to let you go. But you were stubborn. You wouldn't leave without changing his mind and manipulating him to give up on his aim. Besides, you had seen and heard way too much. He couldn't just let you walk away.

He noticed how you kept sipping the wine, and didn't touch the food.

That works for him.

He tries to hide his grin. Yes, the good times he had with you were lovely. He honestly hadn't felt like that with anyone before. He had fallen in love with you. But, alas, all good things must come to an end.

You felt lightheaded, and dizzy. You wondered if it was happiness, or something else entirely.

Your eyes widened as you realized just what you were drinking. You had just sipped your own demise.

The peculiar smell, the slightly sour taste.. you wondered how you missed the tell tale signs of being poisoned.

Fyodor chuckled at your shocked expression.

"It was fun, Krasotka. The times we shared were very genuine."

He cuts another piece of his syrniki, relishing the taste.

It's a pity. He thought. Nobody can make these as well as you do. It's a pity he won't be able to enjoy them anymore.

You start laughing maniacally.

'Ofcourse,' , you thought,' afterall, the two of us are the exact same.'

"So this is goodbye, I suppose." You say as you grip the table to prevent falling prey to the weakness spreading throughout your body.

"Why, yes. I-"

Fyodor was interrupted by a series of coughs. His breathing became irregular, and he was coughing up blood, staining the pearly white silk napkin with a crimson hue.

Fyodor gapes at your laughing form.

'The syrniki', he thought.

"We are but the same darling.", you say as you caress his paling cheek with your fingers.

The reason for your giddiness became clear to him now. You wanted him gone. He wondered why he didn't catch on to the subtle hints. The peculiar smell, the slightly metallic taste, it all points to being poisoned. Now he understood why you had made his favourite dish in the first place. It was all to lure him to bite into his last meal.

He stares at your beautiful eyes. Eyes that once held pure unadulterated love for him. But now,they were filled with malice and hatred. Oh, how cunning you were. As he observed the evil glint in your eyes, he fell for you all over again. He loves your dark side. Now that he was on the verge of death, his goals, ambitions, nothing really mattered. In this moment of truth, he was able to genuinely appreciate your evil genius. The mysterious new plant in your garden, one that looked so much like an innocent garden plant, was one of your deadly creations. You really were a smart person. Always tinkering with life, in all forms. Your array of poisonous creations were memorised by him. This one was new. You had discovered another poisonous plant species, and grown it specially for this occasion. How truly romantic of you.

"I love you." ,he says as he stares at his one true love, his savior, and his angel, who would carry him to his death.

"It's a pity that I don't anymore. ", you say, leaning closer to him.

"Happy anniversary, love.", you whisper.

Both your faces meet halfway in one last kiss.

Check me out on wattpad

[bitchiha]

hii can you write some detailed nsfw headcanons for kakashi or just write a smut fic i love your writings so i wanted to ask if u could do it or not!

Is it wrong to pick up strange girls at a bar? (Kakashi x Reader)

A/N: you asked and you shall receive! The setting is based of A Little Death — the Neighbourhood. Just cause I liked the idea and I wanted to go with it, here’s a link to the song. The reader is basically a Kakegurui character but make it sexual intercourse <3 Kakashi wasn’t originally supposed to be a sub but I wanted to write sub naruto boys at some point so here it is.

Summary: Kakashi meets a mysterious stranger at a bar and things escalate quickly and he takes her back to his motel. After all, is it wrong to pick up strange girls at a bar?

Warnings: drinking, NSFW, sub!Kakashi, dom!reader, harsh degradation (male recieving) so i re wrote this five million times and I can’t torture myself with doing another edit of it so let’s say it’s edited half assedly

In the shitty little town you lived in the only exciting thing it had to offer was the bar.

It was a town used as a resting stop for travellers. People stopped for the night to recharge before continuing on their way to their actual destination in the morning. Many interesting people came in and out, but all the boring ones stayed put. There was no excitement in your family, in your friends, in your neighbourhood… the only time you ever felt even a lick of the feeling was when you were in that bar.

Not a lot of locals drank there, to them the idea of a public drinking place was disgusting and avoided it like the plague, even going as far as to try and ban the joint. To their disappointment, the bar was the main attraction to the travellers, making it difficult to shut down. The frequent travellers insistance to keep it open was solid proof for your thesis; it was the only good thing about this place.

You were one of the few locals that didn’t avoid the bar. How could you when the only exciting people you met were from that joint? Like that woman obsessed with being a bride, or the Taijutsu master in the green stretch suit, or that boy who declared to you that true art was an explosion!

Those were the kind of people you met there, the kind of people you wanted to be with. The only ones who could make you feel like you were breathing, feel like you were human — if that was even possible anymore. God, it felt like every day you spent in this town you lost a little more of your sense of self...

You’re sat there now. In the dim light of the bar on one of the cracked vinyl stools, toying with your empty glass. The bar tender would shoot you a look in a few minutes grunting to “either buy another drink or get out,” but if you were being honest, you didn’t have that much cash on you right now and you hadn’t intended to buy another glass. You see, you had planned to leave earlier with someone new you’d meet at the bar, but no one had yet to ignite that bubbling excitement within you.

You were beginning to get impatient, there was an undeniable need growing in you and it was clawing at your insides, begging you to give it a release. But Monday’s were always slow and you were starting to realize that you may have to wait a little longer than you could bare-

The door to the bar opened and your heart lurched with that desperate craving upon the sight of the man walking through the doorway. Just when you were about to lose hope, you were given your wish. Your body instantly perked up, drinking in that cool manner that he walked with; like he new he was something special, in whatever aspect that may be. He wasn’t flaunting it, no— rather he was just conscious of the fact. Confident.

He had unruly silver hair and the same green vest plastered to his body that the Taijutsu master you met did. He also had a headband on his forehead concealing one of his tired eyes. Upon further inspection you declared that the insignia was the symbol of the Leaf — so he was a shinobi then... He sat down a few chairs away from you.

Quietly, you counted four vinyl coated barriers between you and to your dismay, he had yet to notice you. Instead, he slumped against the table and mumbled an order to the bar tender. You turned your head to look at him again, your fingers tapping against your empty glass. Oh boy, just looking at him made your entire body thrum with that feeling, that exhilarating eagerness pumping through your veins… excitement.

You felt that familiar intoxicating passion swimming through your body a hundred times stronger than you’ve ever experienced before. There was that familiar bitter feeling between your legs and you clenched your thighs together. He was handsome — anyone could agree on that and you just couldn't wait to toy with him. 

Shifting like a curious cat on your barstool, you studied the stranger further. Your movement finally stirred his attention and he turned his head ever so slightly, looking at you for the first time that night. His expression echoed your own curiosity mildly before the bartender slid him his drink, ice clanking in the cup.

You were never one to be shy around strangers, that’s something everyone in the town disliked you for, among other things... But you didn’t think about that as you slid a seat over, giving him a cat-like grin. You chose him for your entertainment tonight, wanting to toy with his cocky attitude until you could swat him around with your paws like a ball of yarn. Like you did with all the ones before him.

“So you’re a Leaf Shinobi, huh?” You asked, taking advantage of his attention, watching him stir his drink. You perched your elbow on the table and balanced your chin on your palm.

“Yeah,” the silver haired ninja smirked a little at your interest, “why so curious?”

You shrugged, “You said it yourself, this bars the only exciting thing in this town. A girls gotta find some kind of amusement, don’t ya think?”

“So I’m amusing to you?”

“Mhm,” you chirped, glad he was entertaining you— albeit a little disinterestedly, but you could work with it... “now go on, what’s it like?”

He was silent for a second. Contemplating before dodging your question, coming off a little distant. “How ‘bout I buy you a drink?” He slid a seat over.

You took his suggestion with a grin, brushing off how he ignored your previous sentence, “Oh! What a gentleman!” You beamed before turning to the bartender, “a vodka and sprite.”

The bartender sighed defeatedly, unable to kick you out of the bar now that the stranger offered you a drink. You were always too damn chatty. The silver haired man snickered at your choice of drink, causing you to gasp at him in mock offense, making him crack the smallest smile.

“What are you laughing at?” You scoffed playfully, once again sliding a chair over. Your arm gliding against the sleek wood table as you did so. Taking your seat, the bartender counted a single chaired gap between his two customers.

“And what are you drinking?” Your voice teasing as your fingers wrapped around his cup and before he had the chance to process your actions you brought the liquid to your lips, tasting its contents and wincing dramatically, “God. Who let you drink that?” You sent an accusing glance at the bartender, who was working on your own drink.

He heard the accusation and lifted a finger with half hearted annoyance, “You’re dangling on my last nerve, y/n.”

So that was your name. Y/n. Kakashi decided he could have some fun real good fun with you tonight. From what you’ve told him, you’re a local in this town, but by the way you dressed he could tell you weren’t like the other people in this place. Wearing that tiny jean skirt and that little top, you were definitely just twenty-one, or maybe twenty-two and certainly not as conservative as the other villagers.

He let himself wonder, as his fingers soaked into the condensation of his glass, how any of them let you out in an outfit like that. Perched a barstool with your leg crossed lazily over the other you looked more dangerous than any enemy he had encountered today.

Before he knew what he was doing, his body was moving him to close the single chaired gap between you two. Sitting on the cracked vinyl, sliding his drink over with him, he simply shrugged at your question and deflected it with a new one.

“And who let you out in that little skirt?”

The two of you maneuvered through the damp halls to whatever room number was engraved on the rusty key Kakashi held (you finally learning his name after some prying.) He slurred something stupid to you as you stumbled along and tilted your head to laugh.

After some drunken fumbling, your beloved stranger managed to unlock the door, pulling you inside in the process. The room was as clean as expected for a cheap room in a shitty motel, but you didn’t bother studying it. You’ve been here countless times before.

You found yourself being pushed up against the door, as Kakashi reached for his headband, pulling it off as you worked at pulling his mask down, your painted nails grazing his skin. Once you tugged the fabric down and his headband clattered to the floor, you marvelled at the sight of his face in its proper glory, burying your hands in his hair as you did so. It was even more alluring in its barest form and there was another wave of excitement surging through your body.

Licking your lips you leaned forward, hands tangling in his hair to connect your mouths for the first time. Teeth grazed against teeth and tongues clashed against tongues in what seemed to be an equally matched fight for power. It was a breath stealing, desperate kiss that lasted for what felt like hours, but could have only been a minute. The kiss had been so invasive that there were sleek strings of saliva connecting your lips, but neither of you moved to wipe them away.

Instead you leaned your head against the wall, his face barely a hair from yours as you both panted. Then in a matter of seconds you were on eachother again, this time the man took to taking your clothes off. Slipping your top off as you began to climb out of your shoes, him doing the same. Leaving you in a bra and your skirt, he started grabbing at your thighs, hoisting them up as he began to move you to the bed. What an eager boy.

When he felt his knees hit the beginning of the mattress, he let his grip on you go, causing your body to fall back. Your arms still around his neck taking him down with you, your back falling onto the mattress as he towered ontop of you. He removed his lips from yours as he began to trail kisses up to your earlobe, tugging at it firmly before licking right up the shell of it.

“How many people have you done this with?” he spoke into your ear, it was a question he was dying to know. Was he gonna be the first? Maybe the second? He liked that idea, liked the prospect of using an all too curious girl for his own pleasure—

“Lots of ‘em, too many to count... but dont take it personally.” What.

He scoffed surprised at your statement, lots? How much is lots? Kakashi felt his ego take a little hit, was he just another person you used for your own desire... He had used many people for his own sake, but he had never had the tables turn on him, until now of course. “The hell is that supposed to mean?” The sound echoed through the shell of your ear and you giggled at the feeling and his voice came out more hurt then upset, which pissed him off even more. Oh how adorable, was the big, strong shinobi’s ego getting hurt?

“Well, You like excitement dont you?” You waited for him to nod an annoyed yes, “Good boy, so we’re on the same track here... Do you know what that’s like to live with a bunch of fucking prudes?” This time you didn’t want for a response, “None of them would even step foot in that bar. Not people like you though and when I saw you I could just feel it... the good fuck could get out of you. I’m gonna have so much fun, we’re gonna have so much fun.” He gave you a surprised look, your mask was slipping and your true colours were shining through and his reaction only egged you on to continue. Did he really think this was some sort of spur of the moment act, that coming here with him was spontaneous.. something special? Oh God, what an idiot..

You pushed at his shoulders, causing him to fall onto his back, allowing you to crawl on top of him. Straddling him, you let your hand to push underneath the fabric of your jean skirt. He stared wide eyed, shocked at how your demeanour was slowly changing. Is the idiot finally getting it now, is he finally understanding his place? “They would never do this. They’d never touch themselves, not like this...” Your fingers dragged along your slit, preparing to access your digits to access to your dripping slit. “But it’s so much fun isn’t, oh and it just feels so good.” As your digits slipped into your enterance your mouth fell open, letting a small moan carelessly fall as you began to push in and out of yourself.

All Kakashi could do was stare up at you. Holy fuck. Were you masturbating ontop of him? The motel room, the look you made, the lewd sounds, all of it.. all of it was like something straight out of the books he read and the fact it was happening to him in real time was beginning to make him short circuit.

“What, You really want to act all shy now, what happened to practically sucking my face off? You brought me back here to fuck, not to blush at me like a virgin.” You said, lifting your skirt with your free hand, giving him a picture to go along with the sounds he was hearing. Upon that sight he made the discovery that you weren’t wearing any panties. “I bet you think about this shit all the time, don’t you? Ngh — You like thinking about girls like this, huh? If you didn’t bring me back here with you, you’d probably be jacking off to the thought of me like some kind of pervert...”

He couldn’t help the red colour invading his face. When he was in bed with girls he was usually the one saying all the dirty stuff, so having you spew all this vulgarity at him was shocking. But what was even more so was the twitching of his cock in his excruciatingly right pants.

He could tell by the face you were making that you were getting close to your own release, the look of embarrassment on his face only fueling your desire even more. Fingers curling and filling your pussy fast and eagerly, thumb moving to flick at your clit. Your tongue was starting to slip out of your open mouth now and he watched the little dribble of saliva coursing down it, your eyes starting to lull to the back of your head — it was that look. That fucking look that he read a hundred times over in the pages of his novels. He felt like he was going to cum just staring at you. But, oh god — were you gonna cum? By yourself? Right now?

Finally being able to move his body, he grabbed your wrist from under your skirt, the lewd sound of your digits leaving your soaked core made his mind all the more foggy. You didn’t complain, the pleasure built up in your core was only intensifying with the anticipation that he was going to be the one between your legs now.

But you wouldn’t tell him that. No, it was too fun to toy with his confidence. “Huh, You think you can make me cum better then my fingers? Hm, Let’s hope I’m not disappointed.” Those words definitely pricked at his ego, but he didn’t have time to mull them over as you began to crawl towards his face.

“You know, you don’t really talk too much, or maybe it’s just cause your a fucking pussy whipped whore...” Kakashi’s face gets redder at the insult. Did you just call him a whore? And why did he like it?

Your breasts bounce in your bra as you moved further up his body. “Lets just see if your mouth is good at something.” You said with dramatic exasperation and before his brain could process it, your thighs were straddling the sides of his head, pushing your core right onto his face.

Kakashi’s reaction was a bit delayed, it was only when your skirt fell over your thighs, trapping him in like a curtain, that he registered the fact that you were now sitting on his face. That and the fact that your pussy was practically suffocating him with your impatience.

He had never felt this much desire to please a woman. You were being so intoxicatingly rough with him that he found his mind only swimming with thoughts of you. Y/n, y/n, y/n. The strange girl he met at a bar. The girl who fingered herself ontop of him and was moaning like a pornstar. The feeling of your wetness already dripping down his chin, ready to be tasted... All of it was tattooing itself into his subconscious.

“Do you need me to say go?” You spat impatiently in the most tantalizing tone, it caused Kakashi’s cock to stir again. However, the words snapped him out of his frozen state and he began to desperately suck at your clit, the wet sounds echoing off the jean curtain and he felt his hips involuntarily buck into the air at your taste.

You felt the movement of his bucking hips and it his embarrassment you refused to let it go. “Oh! So you are a pussy whipped slut? You act so confident but the minute I sit on your face you lose control, just like a good whore.”

As if insulting him turned you on, your mouth began to flow with the most sinful noises and for a second Kakashi thought he was trapped in some fucked up porno. When I’m reality that excitement that had been building inside of you had been finally getting an appropriate release and you were never one to hold back your pleasure.

It felt like your veins were gushing at this point, so much so it felt as though they could burst at any second. You were just so excited and his tongue was so good.. The muscle pushing in and out of your hole, his tongue brushing against your clit as he wriggled as far as he could into your pussy.

Faintly, behind the throbbing in your ears you could hear frustrated fists against the door. They were undoubtably an angry guest that had been awoken by your loud noises, probably a pervy old man too. But you didn't give a fuck and Kakashi was too busy trying to make you cum to care either. Soon enough the banging had either blended into the noise you two were already making or the perv gave up to go jerk himself off.

“You’re licking me like a fucking dog, you’re so desperate to make me feel good.. its fucking sad.” There was no mistaking the vibration of the mans mouth on your clit, he had just moaned. As if that weren’t telling enough you could practically feel the embarrassed heat of his face on the squishy flesh of your inner thighs.  

After another sinful noise barged past your lips you found yourself hurtling quite quickly towards your climax. Losing the little ounce of pity you had for mercilessly using Kakashi’s face, you began to grind onto it. Everything was beginning to feel more heightened now. The booming sound of your heart slamming in your chest, the throbbing of your veins, the feeling of Kakashi’s mouth sucking at your clit.

You didnt even bother to heed the man a warning as you came with a loud moan, all over his face. He wasn’t shocked, afterall he finally seen your true colours and he wouldn’t have put it above you to enjoy his surprised face flushed with your own juices. He felt his arms move from their position on your hips to snake under your skirt and wipe it off—

“Don’t fucking wipe it off.”

After catching your breath, you climbed off his face and stared down at the mess you made. Your hair began to fall over your features, but he could distinctly see the sick smirk on your face before you lent down and licked a line from his chin to his cheek, collecting some of your slick off of him. Then you moved back up again, watching his still blushing face stare at you with wide eyes.

“Y/n-“ But you weren’t listening as you climbed off the bed entirely.

Though your own excitement had been suppressed, you weren’t going to leave Kakashi to finish himself off. You liked to consider yourself a good girl, at least a little bit..

“You were so well behaved, weren’t you? Do you want to cum too?” Were you really about to make him beg? Yes you were. “Come on, use your words little shinobi, why don’t you tell me what you want?” The way you spat that word out belittled him in ever sense and he couldn’t help but buck his hips again.

He felt so embarrassed, but the nights events have had him desperately straining his pants and his normal thoughts were in a far away land. The only thing he could process was the bitter ache in his pants and the sticky substance on his face.

“I-I want to cum too.”

You smirked at him from the edge of the bed. You usually expected a please at the end of the sentence but you weren’t gonna make him suffer anymore. You pat the edge of the matress as a sign for him to shuffle down. He did so eagerly and you began to fumble with his zipper.

“Be a good boy and I’ll let you.”

[littlelieshq]

hey my loyal readers, ALISE here, your one and only source of gosan’s finest. aren’t you curious about what i have in store for you today? don’t lie, of course you are! well, today’s highlight happens to be the one and only YOON SUNHEE. the yoon sunhee? yes, that’s right, her. you know her, don’t you? TWENTY-THREE, JUNIOR AT GOSAN U? no? well��i don’t blame you if you don’t, if you’ve seen one gosaner, you’ve seen them all. but this one, she’s a little special—not everyone took part in a prank that killed a classmate, after all.

                                     interested? well why wouldn’t you be?

                                        lucky for you i always deliver.

               ( TW DEATH, SUICIDE, HOMOPHOBIA, HOMOPHOBIC SLURS )

i.

Flowers loitered the school hallways, various pastel colors echoing a sense of mourn. Everything deemed itself too much; from the view of an endless black void cloaking every student, nothing but dim fairy lights aluminizing their last hopes; to the silence that filled every inch of her— forcing the teenager to gently quake. It’s.. too much.

“The problem is, Sunhee— If I kissed you,”

               “I don’t think I’d be able to stop.”

Images flickered through her mind at a dizzying rate, flashing freckles that dotted the other’s cheeks, and how they must have turned to stardust.. The glow of the deceased’s smile forced her hand to shake. Her fingers dug into crushed flowers over frustration. That — that person — their existence alone filled Sunhee’s veins up with liquid silver. The stings made the idea turn into a disease she could no longer cure. The only thing that.. person, has ever done was permit uncomfortable situations. Situations of flirting and touching, too much, too far. The whole point was to give her a lesson, a lesson that was well delivered.

Even so, something towards the back of her head encouraged a belief that she— she had no right to mourn. She had no right to comfort her fellow peers as they fall to their knees in loud sobs, tears staining their cheeks. So, only anger and hatred filled her to a leaking brim.

“Sunhee. You can’t seriously be feeling sorry for her, right? She fell. It wasn’t our fault. Now go before someone sees.”

But, was she mad at the photo framed with delicates before her? Or was she furious with herself?

The past several weeks, law enforcement officials have made the school their newly established home. Just, that their only purpose was to consistently question students on an ongoing missing persons case. The case was over Jeju High’s beloved— lesbian— Park Jiah. Although, it seemed that the police peaked an interest on Sunhee. After all, Sunhee was the local gossip queen.. and the deceased’s biggest crush.

“Keep your mouth fucking shut. This could destroy all of our lives.” “We did this for you, Sunhee, why are you backing out now? You wanted that faggot off your ass.”

The case went cold.

It went cold until the discovery of Jiah’s body at the bottom of a lake, skull ripped to shreds and fish feeding off of flesh. They classified the autopsy as a suicide which closed the case permanently after two months.

Yet, You don’t get to die and be reborn the same. You come back, yet you come back wrong.

ii.

Maybe being handed life from two famous celebrities made it so simple. As if an all out pass to society’s perfect face was nothing but a gift from absent loving parents. Everything from that point on continued to be handed to her with ease, she began to believe it was a basic right. A right that those who were made to stand had, and those who didn’t receive, were just stepping stones.

Even fame was something to be groomed for, the public eye always kept a close look towards her actions anyways. Cameras consistently monitored every movement, trend, place, vacation— anything. Paparazzis couldn’t get enough of Korea’s new perfect little sunshine.

But, she thrived in it, breathed it, demanded it. It’s all she’s ever known.

Sunhee continued to desire more— yes, more than that high school popularity or the rapid growth of social media accounts.. More, more, more. She wanted the public to bow down to her like a princess. She threaded unadulterated beauty to her core, flexed it. Every smile thrown a direction always caused a beautiful headline photo. Just what more could she receive? Displeasure began to seep towards darkened corners. It wasn’t enough, it was never enough.

So, the young adult inserted herself into different communities to stretch the name. Makeup, SFX, fashion, modeling— what else couldn’t she pull off or turn into her own trend? It was a sense of feminine art that etched into her creativity, something she grew to adore rather quickly with makeup being her largest focus. Such a focus that college permitted her into a business major in hopes to develop her own company.

Sunhee must have saved an entire nation from a previous life to be rewarded with an easy access life. Or, at least.. the public believes her day-to-day is that simple.

Don’t know the name? Now you do.

[zombriekid]

Indoctrination: the First Palpitation [Jacob Seed/Gender Neutral Reader]

Series: Far Cry; Far Cry 5

Summary: your attempt to take jacob’s life backfires on you

warning: brief mentions of a panic attack; pov rule break

  The wood is chipped, fragmented, splintered around a hole about the size of a grape- a hole that wasn’t there just a few seconds ago. (fast) Midday’s sun gleams off of the metal found in the hole (.50 cal round), and in record time he realizes that a. he never even heard the shot coming (gun modification; suppressor) and b. the bullet landed where his head would’ve been had he not paused. (sniper)

  Someone just tried to kill Jacob Seed.

  Now the man is by no means a fool; he’s the head of the militant flock, of the Project’s security; he’s alpha over the Judges, master of the mountains, herald in the north, and the Father’s most beloved Soldier. Because the oldest Seed has built a blood-soaked reputation from the foundation of ruthless and sadistic cruelty, subscribing to a darwinism philosophy and enforcing it on his men- culling the herd, as it were- he has procured an ever growing list of enemies as long as the Henbane River. So yes, it’s a secret to no one that hundreds of people across Hope County want him dead, hell some of these sheep have hated him so much that they’ve risked their lives trying to end his themselves, but no one… no one has ever gotten so close to succeeding.

  And this near brush with death makes his heart stutter ever so slightly.

  Instead of giving in to the adrenaline, however, he allows himself a single cycle of deep breaths while the liquid cold in his veins relaxes its invasion. If nothing else to bide time until his head clears up enough so he can properly assess the situation.

  First the trajectory of the bullet.

  Even the weakest of the flock can figure this one out: the propulsion of a gun’s blast fires the bullet in a straight path, especially given the power behind a sniper rifle, so if he looks away from the hole in the compound’s wall…

  A rocky incline with smudges of green grass, young patchy spruces, and even sparser brushes across the way; considering that the offending rifle has a silencer modification then the would be assassin is seeking some level of stealth, and in the forests of the Whitetail Mountains this feat can only be supported by wearing the proper garments in the shadows of the trees. Target’s location found.

  Now the sniper.

  Obviously they must possess at least a modicum of skill with a sniper rifle seeing as how they nearly painted a fraction of the Wolf’s Den with Jacob’s brain matter- would’ve been profitable too had he kept moving.

  But not only that there still hasn’t been a follow up shot, something that kind of serves as a signature to those Militia cowards, and he has yet to note any disturbances in the flora on the incline. Trained. It’s not one of his though. The Chosen and the Hunters use poisoned arrows to execute their prey, more likely to suffer a slower death that way.

  … He has a hunch, a feeling in his gut that fills him in on this succulent mystery because there’s only been one person in the entirety of Hope County who has been reigning sheer hell down upon the Project...all from the safety of the shadows.

  Jacob takes the fastest route to the closest radio so he can test his theory.

_______________________________________________________________________

  The Soldier lives.

  The Soldier breathes.

  The Soldier walks.

  All because you missed your shot.

  The sensation of ice pours down the contours of your spine; it drains into your wrists and your hands and it kisses your fingertips until your extremities begin to quake. Because you missed. You can’t seem to fill your lungs deep enough, and the rapid incomplete inhales and exhales robs your brain of the oxygen it needs. You’re light headed because you missed. Eli, Wheaty, Tammy, Jess, every single one of them and more are going to continue to suffer at Jacob’s hands because you fucking missed his fucking skull!

  And the absolute worst part of all of this is the fact that somewhere deep down inside your chest you feel a percentage of relief.

  The radio at your hip chirps before his voice comes through the static mere seconds later. “Oh deputy, didn’t your academy teach you to shoot to kill? I’ve heard that cops are… rather fond of that.”

  A taunt, though not one born from childish immaturity or smug superiority (this isn’t the youngest Seed brother)- he’s aware of your social condition so it’s not as if he expects you to verbally respond/react. It’s likely that he’s seeing if you’ll take the bait.

  “I have to admit I am pleasantly surprised, rook.” He says with a rough, chafed cadence not unlike a beast. “See I figured, after our last session, that you’d avoid the mountains like it has the goddamn plague… was certain that I would have to be the one to come after you. Yet here we are.”

  With little grace and even less reverence the rifle slips from your hands and collapses to the ground near your feet with a dull thump. You feel… strange. Heavy. Like you’re standing on the precipice before a storm; something’s brewing, your instincts warns, and the fine hairs all over your body rise with the pebbling of your skin.

  “Maybe you are due for more… therapy,” he voice rumbles quietly, “you did just try to kill me after all, though you failed spectacularly. Seems that there’s still some weakness I need to beat out of you. But don’t worry, there’s hope for you yet, so stay put..

  “I’ll come get you.”

  It’s foolish.

  It is goddamn foolish and you’re going to look back on this moment with such colossal self hatred that it’ll taste like bitter, rotten fruit in your teeth.

  But when the feral cry of a drug-addicted wolf reaches your ears from down below, your sense of fight or flight kicks into autopilot and it drives your legs into a burning sprint away from the Wolf’s Den like a bat out of hell.

  You proved his theory correct; you took the bait.

_______________________________________________________________________

a/u: not my best, but it was kinda nice being able to focus on something else for a bit. the reason this is titled the way it is is because i MIGHT do something for the other seed siblings, but that isn’t for certain. we’ll see. if you liked my work then please give a like, leave a comment, and reblog it so other people may enjoy it as well <3 all y’all are cash money and i love you

[purplesangel]

Crystal Fate

So this is my Frist time showing my writing on tumblr, I had written this for a friend @jaroffangurl the little song is her own lyrics 😍 hope you enjoy! (P.s tmt belongs to rightful owner)

~~~~~~~~~

It was routine his life and as such he had grown numb to it. Everyone of his responses were on autopilot, his body a motion of habit, the passion long forgotten his eye dulled no longer glowing like the stars he so favored. His spark lost in his responsibility....he Leonardo felt nothing more then a shell of his self ...

That is....

Till he slept

It started off simple enough he go for his rest like the rest of his family have. The ushal nightmarish exprents and yet again he found himself in one.

Looking at a river a blood as he was forced to drink his from the sickening lquid, feeling his body dieing from thist as if he collapse if he did not, he reched at each mothful nor stopping until his thrist was celnched only when he looked up to follow the river of death and horror. Leo's legs burning with each step as his eye frouces upon the sorce..

He scream,

His family was there each tore apart limb form limb his brother head on steaks, his beloved father hung upside down skinned alive still barely alive as his last drop of liquid life drained from him as his now torn eyes pin Leonardo down as he spoke one last breath

"You failaure"

Paralized, he...

He

Reched..his contents of stomach the blood of his family pouring out of him as if to tourcher him all over again his brother dismembered heads started to talk

"How could you"

"I trusted you"

"Sell out"

"Your a monster"

Each stabbed him in the heart as he wanted to die..that when it appeared

A dark tar soaked katana apread infront of him smelling like sin it's self.

All three bothers spoke

"Kill yourself, to rot in hell were you belong"

His shaken hand went to grab it painfully as his skin burned, his eyes spilling tears of lquid green. He was about to grab the cursed item a cystal wall grown from the ground itself, starting to surround him. It was made from rose quartz as the glimmering jewel form a barrair cutting him off from everything the stench, the sounds , his diced family, his death...

The cystals caged him but not it darkness but that of a soft glow. Leo did not know if he was still in hell, tourching him with fasle sanctuary.

"Have u ever seen a man's face when he wasn't saadddd~

When he wasn't holding back the grit of the past

Just tell me uve seen the smile he tries to hide from youuuu

Cause god knows he's tried

A feather flick of a lash

His eyes spark and colors clash

He's the man with no dreams

No hope

But when he glances at you he just scheme's

Have u ever seen a man's face bare no snear

And you come too close

It all becomes all to clear~~~~"

Tears covering his green stain faced he cried, the turth was sung out in such a hypnotic voice he shook as he felt it to his very core.

Who was singing this

Why were they here

Where were they

When was he going to wake up from this tourcher, frist his family and now a voice that sung what he was trying so desperately to hide!!

The cystal walls came down one by one as he now was crying in a field of Heliotrope's as foot steps could be heard in the plush grass.

"JUST KILL ME ALREADY!!"

"why" the velet voice spoke, he didn't look up

"BEACUSE I AM NOTHING!! I CANT GO ON LIKE!! MY FAMILY GONE I FAILED I AM A DISCRACE" he curled into a ball

A warmth on his shell

"You know that isn't ture Leonardo"

Finally finally he looked up. His broken blues with flooded pools of toxic green dripped. As her soften golden kissed forest green looked at him with what he thought he never see....

"Wh-

"My name is not important, what is *she cupped his face as he whipe away his tears with a brush of her thumb* important is you" pressing her soften lips to his forhead he felt a gush of wind as he closed his eyes to feel different..

Opening them he found him standing in his home his hand on her waist as she wore a pure white gown made of what seemed to be flowing gold. Golded hair pooled to her back as her rich skin held his face. As he watched her hand gestured out...

He saw it ....

Donnie was getting coffee looking half awake but tried to smile to him none the less with a small little wave.

Mikey was cooking flipping the pancakes ten feet high as he cought it on a plate showing off his skills as a chef of the family

*Shove*

Raph had pushed his shoulder "come on fearless breakfast is ready!" He gave his famous grin as he went to sit down his strut proud to be here.

Splinter was already drinking tea his eyes twinking with plans for his sons mutation day..as he loved his sons so

"You are so loved Leonardo, try not to forget that" his attention brought back to this what he was convise now was a goddess. She had saved him ...fr- "you always focus on such negitive thoughts you forget the positives in your life" looking back she now had wings that were made of Sakura tree flowing in the wind in full bloom growing from her back "I can not tell you to stop you ways, but I can tell you open your eyes" her cheery lips smiling to him. As her hands let go of him he cling to her.

"N-no don't go!"

Taking his massive hands in her own she blessed them with a press of her lips as his skin felt on fire ...

"I will be back, now *wings flapped once as her face was so close her lips brushed his as she spoke* wake up my chubbles" her whispered the last thing he heard as her eyes burned in his memories

Eyes shot open

As a slow Grin placed on his face

"Chubbles?" A partial laugh came from his lips as he looked to ciling..."I like it....."

"My Blossom"

[red-5]

Consequences

Summary: Learning you may have had a one-night stand with the bane of your existence is bad enough. But having to team up with said one-night stand to track down possible video evidence is just a recipe for a bad day.

Pairings: Poe x Reader

Warnings: Adult themes, alcohol consumption, language

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone that has helped me get my groove back. I’m working on a bunch of Poe request that came in, but i’m still riding a crazed, derailed rollercoaster of emotions so just kinda writing my way through it. Wheeee.

As delicious as aged Corellian Whiskey was, it left one hell of an aftertaste.

You peeled your tongue from the roof of your mouth and scrubbed it across your teeth, trying to rid them of the vile fermentation that clung to them in a fuzzy film that your toothpaste just couldn’t quite get off. There had been a thought about hiding the bags that hung beneath your eyes and taming the wild flyaways that sprung from your head, a fleeting one, but a thought nonetheless. Chances were the majority of the fleet wouldn’t look much better than you anyway. Your only saving grace was there were no scheduled flights today. Red Squadron would be spending the day with their feet planted firmly on the ground. Thank the Maker.

You stumbled into the cantina, shielding your eyes from the intrusive light that seemed so much brighter than normal.  The cinched arms of your flight suit hung off your hips, you’d gotten it most of the way on, and you were 75% sure your tank top was clean. Most of them were stained with various mechanical fluids at this point so it wasn’t like it was a new look for you. The thick orange material was just too thick, and you were in no mood to bear the heat of a D’Qar afternoon any more than you needed to.

“Daaaamn, boss.”

You actively flinched away from the far-too enthusiastic voice that had the nerve to intrude upon your sulking. Bright, blue eyes raked across your disheveled form with just a hint of disapproval, blonde waves infuriatingly impeccable. Cora. You loved her, you did, but her ability to end the night barely remembering her own name and start the next morning fresh as a Noobian daisy was something you’d never been able to stop hating her for.

“Shhh.”

You heaved your hand up, pressing a finger to her lips to stop the assault on your eardrums that was sure to follow.

“Where’s Kato?” You croaked.

She laughed, pulling your hand from her mouth and taking hold of your arm.

“He popped off to talk to Miss Mira the second you stumbled in,” she chirped, dragging you in the direction of what you hoped was somewhere you could just sit down and wait for death. “He’ll be bringing you his life-restoring concoction in no time.”

You ducked your head and allowed yourself to be pulled across the cantina and dumped into your usual chair at your usual table, collapsing across the top and burying your face in your arms. It wasn’t quite as loud as it normally was at this time in the morning, so it appeared that as bad a shape as you were in, you didn’t seem to be the worst. Just as the spinning in your head reached it’s peak and you opened yourself up to the sweet embrace of death, a firm hand grasped your shoulder and hauled you into a sitting position.

Your mouth dropped open in preparation to unleash an unholy torrent of cutting insults until your eyes squinted Kato’s face into focus.

“You better drink this before the rest of your pilots show up. They’ll never let you forget it.”

He placed the cup in your hand, and you wasted no time raising it to your lips. You’d thank him when you could form coherent sentences again. The thick, green liquid coated your mouth and slid down your throat, but the knowledge of the sweet relief that was in store for you helped you fight against the churning in your stomach. The first time he’d made it for you, you’d made the mistake of asking what was in it. He had taken your hands in his, looked deeply into your eyes, and said in the ominous voice you had ever heard:

“You don’t want to know.”

You hadn’t wanted to drink it, but after he had coaxed it down your throat and you had felt the effects, you’d never questioned him again.

“You know,” Kato drawled, leaning lazily against the table next to you. “You look a lot better than I thought you would, considering the… company you had last night.”

You grimaced through a thick, sticky swallow and shot him a confused look before yelping at the sharp pain that exploded across your shin.

“Cora what the shit?!” You howled, lifting your glass into the air to try and salvage the nectar of life that sloshed up the sides and rubbing the burn away with your other hand.

Cora’s wide, panicked eyes darted between your face and Kato’s, perfectly pouted pink lips gaping between the two of you for a frantic moment before she remembered how to speak.

“S-sorry boss,” she squeaked with a shrug. “Leg spasms. My thighs still cramp up since the crash.”

You shot her an irritated look, but lacked the energy to do little more than raise your cup back to your mouth.

“What the hell are you going on about now?” You asked after another large swallow, wiping the corners of your mouth on the back of your hand.

Kato blinked back at you, suddenly nervous gaze snapping from your face to the frightening, pointed look the tiny blonde shot him from across the table.

“U-um, well- “ he stuttered.

“Kato, just spit it the hell- “

“What do you remember from last night?” Cora blurted over you, leaning onto her elbows to look at you carefully.

You looked back and forth between them for a moment, slowly lowering the cup to the table.

“What do you mean?”

“Just,” Cora began, pressing her lips together and drawing a sharp breath through her nose before continuing. “What is the last thing you remember?”

You rolled your eyes, but seeing no end to the interrogation, obliged.

“Black Squadron was throwing Snap a make-up birthday party, which, I’m sure you agree was a perfect opportunity to break out the whiskey Han sent me.”

She smiled and nodded, but stayed silent.

“I had a few drinks, gave my good wishes to the birthday boy, you-know-who showed up, so I decided to bail, ran in to Jess and you guys and we went to the hangar for a few more drinks, then I went home. Alone.”

She rested her chin on her hands, narrowing her eyes as she watched you. You could practically hear the gears in her head turning.

“Not… exactly.”

Your eyebrow shot into your hairline.

“What do you mean not exactly?”

She sighed, dropping her arms to the table and pressing her palms flat against the top.

“You did go home… but a bit more happened before then… and you didn’t go alone… “

You didn’t speak, but watching her squirm under your gaze was satisfying enough.

“Someone… else… showed up at the hangar…”

A chill ran up your spine. There was a relatively small list of people that warranted the kind of reaction that had been elicited from your closest friends, and only one name was coming to mind.

“Who?” You hissed.

Her mouth dropped open, and you watched the words die in her throat. Her eyes snapped helplessly to Kato before slipping over your shoulder and widening in a way you were certain she had no real control over. It felt like your life had been put into slow motion as you turned your head, meeting the wide-eyed look Jess gave you when she clearly had something she needed to speak to you about before landing on the head of unruly dark curls that walked in after her.

“No…”

You whipped your head back around to face them a little too quickly for your current state.

“If this is some kind of joke it isn’t funny.”

Their silence spoke volumes.

“There’s no possible way…”

More silence.

You whirled back around helplessly, unsure what seeing his stupid face again would solve but not entirely sure what else to do. Nausea twisted tight knots in your stomach when his eyes seemed to be waiting to meet yours from across the room. You barely lasted a more than a second of full eye-contact with Poe Dameron, your arch-nemesis, however childish Cora said having an arch-nemesis was, and apparently if your closest friends were to be trusted, lover. Kato’s miracle concoction crawled back up your throat at the thought, and you spat out a string of words that conveyed your intention before darting out of the cantina. You wanted to be behind closed doors when the few contents of your stomach made a reappearance.

A few deep breaths, a splash of cold water to the face, and a stiff cup of caf, and you’d managed to calm the raging storm in your stomach. Kato’s potion had finally taken effect, and you’d managed to work yourself into a state where it no longer felt like your skeleton was trying to crawl out of your skin. You’d resisted the urge to sit in the fresher under the hottest water it was capable of producing until your flesh melted off, ultimately convincing yourself that was a touch melodramatic. You were an adult. You could handle a regrettable one-night stand. Eventually the mortifying thumbs-up and sly winks you were receiving would stop, and everyone would move on to the next scandal. Until then, you would take out the frustration on all the little bugs and quirks you’d been meaning to work out of your beloved ship.

Once you’d nursed yourself back to a state of productivity, you’d beelined for the hangar and set to work without another word. You didn’t know where Cora and Kato were, and despite the look you’d seen on her face in the cantina, Jess was also nowhere to be seen. It was just as well. You had no intention of interaction with another person for a while. Because it seemed everything in the galaxy had made a pact to turn against you, the wrench you gripped in your cramping fingers seemed bound and determined not to move. You jerked it free from the crusted bolt you’d been attempting to coax free with a growl. With one more inspection of the bolt in question, you backed out of the maintenance compartment, mumbling obscenities under your breath, and turned on your heel to face your tool cart only to crash into a solid, warm figure. You realized with a sickening fury that you didn’t need to see the face to know who it was, you recognized their scent instantly.

“Woah, sorry,” Poe said with an awkward chuckle, innocently putting his hands into the air and taking a few steps back.

You glared holes into his head in response, folding your grease-slicked arms across your chest.

“Is there something I can help you with, Commander?” You ground out between your teeth.

His eyes floated across your face in a way that made you feed oddly exposed, and you fought the urge to squirm as you stared him into submission.

“I, uh… “ he started lamely, wringing his hands in front of him. “I was thinking we should… talk.”

Oh, no. Not happening.

You shouldered passed him, nonchalantly tossing the wrench onto your cart and rifling through your tools.

“About what?”

He didn’t respond right away. You could feel him fidgeting behind you. You were also slightly ashamed at how much satisfaction it gave you.

“About… about last night… “

You continued to search through your tools at a leisurely pace, picking through them one-by-one until finding the one you were looking for.

“I barely remember anything from last night, Commander Dameron, and the parts I do remember don’t concern you.” You spun back around to stride back to your ship without so much as sparing him a second glance. “If I can’t remember something, I can’t talk about it, now can I?”

Ignoring his sigh, you set back to work freeing the bolt from the dried, crusted oil that imprisoned it in place.

“That’s how we’re going to do this?”

Though your mind created a list of biting responses, you elected to simply continue to ignore him. Eventually he’d get the hint and go away. The seconds ticked by, and your skin still bristled at his presence behind you.

Fine,” he said after a while. “Will you at least tell me if you saw my datapad?”

You heaved a sigh, dropping your chin to your chest as your hands halted their work.

“Why the hell would I care about your damn datapad?”

The awkwardness, it at all possible, spiked to a record high between you.

“Because, the last time I saw it… was… well we were… “

The glare you shot over your shoulder was all the motivation he needed.

“The last time I remember having it was when we were… together.”

You stared at him while your mind caught up.

“…And?”

His eyes shot up, down, to the side, anywhere but your face as his hands found his hips.

“And… I’m pretty sure that the… that the video function… was used.”

For the next several seconds all you could hear was a high-pitched whine and your own heartbeat.

“I’m sorry?”

He winced at your low hiss, still reluctant to meet your eyes as he increased the distance between the two of you by a few strides.

“I’m pretty sure- “

“Well you better get really sure really damn quick!” You wailed. “For fuck’s sake, Dameron.”

You pushed off of the fuselage, drawing in a deep, steading breath as you paced the short distance between your ship and tool cart.

“What the hell were you thinking?!”

He shifted uncomfortably from side to side, a brilliant shade of red painting his face and neck.

“You didn’t seem to have any complaints.”

The look you gave him could have melted planets. That’s it. You were smashing the next bottle Han sent you, regardless of what it was. Poe seemed to sense there were no words that would help him out of his current situation, and that the sound of his voice would only act as fuel for your roaring fire of rage. After several laps, and several cleansing breaths, your fists unclenched, your fingernails no longer tore through the tender flesh of your palms, and you felt confident enough to speak.

“Okay,” you breathed with a firm set of your shoulders. “Well, obviously we have to find it, so get to remembering. The sooner we find it, the sooner I don’t have to look at you anymore.”

You didn’t give any room for argument, tossing your tools unceremoniously back on your cart with a clunk and turning on your heel to log your progress before beginning what was sure to be the worst scavenger hunt you’d ever participated in. You could feel his eyes on you, but the only indication he gave that he agreed were two simple words.

“Yes, ma’am.”

@angelaiswriting @i-said-goddameron @geeksareunique @hanginwithmanerds@thefirebreather00

[achraf1149]

10 Powerful Books That Make You Think

If you're soul looking for distinctive and uncorked world book recommendations that cause you to suppose and can amendment your life, you're within the right place.

Discover books that open your eyes and expand your mind, cause you to deem love afresh, which forces you to rethink the which means of life.

Many of those titles have impressed my actions or altered the manner within which I see the globe. Some have even modified the manner I travel or forced Maine to try and do one thing as straightforward as cleaning out my closets or preparation a replacement dish.

In 1998, Ehrenreich explored what it suggests that to measure (and not live) off of low-income wages below the poverty line. providing realistic and hardcore insight into the impossibility of living in lower working-class America–even after you hold 3 jobs–Ehrenreich exploits a system that also plagues America nowadays.

Nickel ANd Dimed is an eye-opening book that may amendment the manner you think that concerning the financial gain gap and assumptions we tend to create concerning the poor.

A Cook’s Tour: world Adventures In Extreme Cuisines by Anthony Bourdain

When I woke to the news of Bourdain’s death, I might barely breathe all day. Feeling like I used to be underwater, my travel idol had left this world, untimely. Bourdain is one amongst my favorites, and his TV shows and books force the U.S.A. to suppose outside of the box.

Bourdain voiceless his wanderings in my ear over and yet again as I traveled the globe. He saw individuals for World Health Organization they were, ne'er perfect a culture, and nearly always completed his privileged errors.

As a book to create you think that concerning food and therefore the world, A Cook’s Tour talks concerning basis. Food brings individuals along. Food is that the language starter, a shared language, trailblazing a discourse concerning history and politics.

A Cook’s Tour lays out Bourdain’s life as a cook and his initial travels. Bourdain wasn’t forever AN notorious TV mortal and his humble beginnings area unit guides for the U.S.A. all. A Cook’s Tour could be a powerful book concerning the human association.

A come in The Woods by Bill Bryson

If I ever become a printed author, presumably writing travel memoirs, my voice may match Bill Bryson’s wit and satire. A come in The Woods could be a nonfictional prose book that may cause you to laugh and will land on everyone’s shelf.

One of my favorite nonfictional prose memoir and scientific writers, Bryson takes on AN unlikely challenge: hiking components of the geographic region path.

Not specifically a task model for fitness or being out-of-door, Bryson and his drunken friend, Katz, walk into the woods. In the AN journey of a period, they study their relationship, survival, and a unique manner of life. Perseverance is everything.

A come in The Woods is one amongst those books that challenge the manner we expect about perceived not possible challenges. Bryson smashes stereotypes.

Books That cause you to Smarter

Nonfiction Books That cause you to Smarter embody Quiet by Susan adult male

Quiet: the ability Of Introverts during a World That Can’t Stop Talking by Susan adult male

Looking for nonfictional prose books that cause you to smarter? Quiet is one amongst the books that modified the manner I believe concerning myself as AN introvert dissembling to be AN extrovert.

Powerful Books that may cause you to suppose

Deep books and most powerful books embody Beloved by Toni Morrison

Beloved by Toni Morrison

A Pulitzer lottery winner, Beloved is one amongst several classic books to create you think that and appearance at the globe through new, and undoubtedly tear-stained, eyes.

You really shouldn’t miss Beloved throughout your formal or informal education. I studied the title in each highschool and college man category. Beloved is one amongst those powerful and deep books that stays with you forever.

Born into and eventually escaping slavery in Bluegrass State, Sethe finds freedom in Ohio. Is she extremely free, though? Sethe will ne'er totally escape her reminiscences or past, as well as the death of a baby.

Books That cause you to suppose The Hate U provide by Angie Thomas

The Hate U provide by Angie Thomas

Another very powerful book that's extremely relevant and demands amendment is that the Hate U provides. The Hate U provides exemplifies the Black Lives Matter movement and offers strength and voice to a story that deserves an area in literature.

As a young Negro, a rock star is unfree between 2 worlds: her preppy white college and her zero in Garden Heights, a poorer neighborhood. once her unarmed and innocent relative is shot and killed by a white peace officer, rock star must create the choice of her life. will she fight? Or will she keep silent?

Racism, stereotypes, activism, and identity area unit simply some themes cleft in tough. tough is one amongst a lot of recent|many more moderen} YA books that creates you think that more deeply concerning current racism and racial tensions within the U.S. tough is additionally a book that may cause you to cry and rise.

Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides

If you're trying to find a classic book that may cause you to suppose, Middlesex lands on nearly every list–as it ought to.

Winner of the Pulitzer Prize, uncover a world of family secrets, gender liquidity, and the way we tend to battle social constructs. There are themes of migration from a little Greek village and assimilation to urban centers.

Oprah featured Middlesex on her Book Club, and this beautiful title has been deemed “The nice Yankee Novel.”

Did you recognize That Books That amendment Your Perspective Is one amongst The Themes For The Uncorked Librarian’s 2020 Reading Challenge?

The Uncorked professional person hosts yearly reading challenges with themes as well as books, booze, and travel. you're not needed to check in or perhaps participate every month. browse a lot of to seek out monthly themed reading ideas with book suggestions per class. you'll be able to browse the maximum amount or as very little as you prefer.

Honestly, I'll ne'er perceive the Twitter backlash Kondo received within the studious community. Kondo could be a professional that loves tidying and believes the act of organization greatly enhances your life. Kondo’s book teaches the U.S.A. to deem however we discover the joy and scale back muddle, virtually and figuratively.

We collect several things over the years. Some bring U.S.A. joy. Others litter our homes and will be appreciated, thanked, and discarded.

Marie recommends tidying as how to attach in your relationships and surround yourself with purposeful reminiscences. Thorough cleansing, we tend to learn the World Health Organization we tend to area unit (and what proportion crap we tend to collect).

I know that I reexamined what proportion ‘stuff’ I have and what I waste on a day today. Kondo’s Japanse ascetic and culture area unit was new and eye-opening to the present Yankee.

Kondo’s ideology can have you ever deeply examining your shelf, closet, and even relationships. See however Kondo’s recommendation applies to decorate your home, literary-style.

Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert

Who hasn’t unreal of the amendment and finding oneself in an alimentary paste, rice paddies, and meditation rooms? Eat, Pray, Love is one amongst those purposeful books that such a big amount of individuals will relate to.

Elizabeth Gilbert finds herself at the crossroads of divorce, unhappiness, and a mussy life that she thus badly needs to reclaim.

Instead of proverbially driving her state of affairs off of a drop, Gilbert decides to travel around the world to Italy, India, and Indonesia, embracing, love, culture, and relationship. She learns the ability of compassion and the way nature and silence will spark peace among.

Gilbert has increased my travels and her books create Maine woke to the globe. once I captive to Indonesia, her life lessons and honesty coursed through my veins. I followed her path and even visit Wayan in Bali to possess my fortune and health browse.

The Book outlaw by Markus Zusak

A classic book that may cause you to suppose outside of the box, The Book outlaw brings home the ability of words. You’ll end up questioning ancient definitions of relationship, prejudice, and family.

Liesel is AN adopted kid World Health Organization befriends the Jewish man concealing in her basement. Together, we tend to learn the way music, art, and words will form and outline our worlds and relationships. Warning: The Book outlaw can in all probability cause you to cry, too.

[beet-rootesoupevodkabanya]

Teen military AU. Part 2.

TW: Underaged!!!

- Good boy! Like this. Yeah... Lift your hips a bit more... - voice of eleven-years old, silver-haired beauty was ringing from excitement. Thin fingers slid between kid's legs. Yuuri dropped his head on hands and screamed again. Cold palm stroke his abdomen, reached a nipple and squeezed it. Another thin hand laid on boy's back, not letting him to distant too much or to fall on the bed. Although he was already nearly collapsing from the overwhelming desire of something not very clear. When a cold finger slid inside, he sobbed and moaned but moved hips to meet the intrusions. It felt not very comfortable and weird but still so...enjoyable? - My little puppy should bear it a bit more... - mischievous whisper of young Snow King touched boy's ear. Hot tongue explored the neck and the earlobe and teeth dug into it with a kind of predatory, lustful giggling. When wet, burning hardness was pressed to his entrance, Yuuri screamed, clumsily trying to meet this [so desired] length and made an unskilled effort to spread his buttocks with hands, to give his King more access. He moaned and sobbed without hesitation. Small kid's arousal throbbed painfully, dripping with precum into white palm, that touched it lightly and teasingly. Desire to have a release into this hand but at the same time desperate need to be filled completely with his Yuki no Kami was tormenting. Yuuri buried the face into sheets with tears streaming down because of overwhelming feelings. He didn't realize completely how his King put it in. Just felt burning but still enjoyable heat filling his entire being from behind, came immediately (more like from the thought then from actual actions) and...woke up.

Thirteen years old Yuuri Katsuki laid in arms of his beloved Snezhny Korol. Panting and sweating from that inappropriate vision. Sticky whitish liquid covered an abdomen and a hipbone of his silver-haired, young God. And what's the worst - blue gemstones were opened and looked right on [messed up as usual] Yuuri. Crimson red, chocking with tears he tossed in protective, porcelain arms. Not really wishing to set free. Just being unable to control himself from embarrassment. Soft kisses wiped teardrops from tightly shut lashes. Snow King hugged his boy tighter with tender, quiet laugh. Under caress of frosted fingers Yuuri surrendered and cautiously opened one eye. Only to find out they both were hiding from the entire world under the cloak of silver blizzard. - What did my Kay see in his dream? Something good? Was it me? - Yuki no Kami pecked boy's lips, trying to sound teasing but it anyway came out full of love. Yuuri clung to him still blushing and nodded. He didn't like the idea to hide something from his Snow God but still didn't know how to explain it properly. That he was completely aware he loved this man since the first time he saw him on tv being seven years old. He just knew it from the very beginning. Not like he realized his feelings were love. More like he understood the entire meaning of the word "love" was trapped in that silver locks, splinters of the northern sky and sharp lines of young Polar Death. And he desperately wished to belong to this man (that time - still kid in fact, despite of battle experience) completely. With his heart, soul and body. Lips of Yuki no Kami softly touched boy's face, neck, shoulders. Not even passionate, but with ultimate, unexpected from the teen care. Since their first intimate actions they used to sleep naked cuddling. Regardless of any sexual intentions. Yuuri inhaled anxiously and muttered: - I...just...want to...be yours...completely. Heart in porcelain chest bet faster. Boy heard it too well. Husky whisper warmed his ear: - More than we usually do?... - Yes... - being almost blind from embarrassment Yuuri didn't expect his voice would sound this confident, almost demanding. - Are U sure?... - Yes... Young God of Snow pushed the blanket away. Being on his elbows above Yuuri in dark room and almost glowing in weak night lights... Boy gasped mesmerized with this beauty completely. Remembered his dream. And helplessly realized he is blushing again. And again is becoming hard... Frosted hands slid his sides. Soft lips covered boy's mouth. Yuuri gasped melting in this tender blizzard. Butterfly kisses covered his neck, chest, abdomen... Feeling his still fresh cum on porcelain silk, boy blushed again, seeking where to hide his face...and not wanting it at all. Because he physically couldn't take his eyes off of this northern perfection. Silver rain tickled his thighs. Wet tongue traced still childishly smooth skin. Lower. And lower. When porcelain cheek touched his hardness boy tossed on the bed, moaning and digging nails into sheets. Snow King raised a head and reassuringly smiled to his Kay. Cold fingers wrapped a lock of winter silk around boy's arousal. With a short scream Yuuri bit his lip not to cum right in the moment. Too good. Much better than in any dream. Cold palms slid under boy's butt raising it a bit. Without thinking he speed legs more laying them on Victor's shoulders. No matter how shy Yuuri was in daily life, closeness with his Yuki no Kami pressed a kind of switch inside of him. And all doubts and fears faded away for the time of burning touch of beautiful Polar Death. Hot mouth softly covered his arousal. Boy screamed, arching his back and scratching the bed. Need to cling to the [insanely loved] body of his King was suffocating. But at the same time he was longing for this to be continued too much... As if understanding him without words, Victor freed one hand and reached for boy's palm. Nearly sobbing Yuuri squeezed frosted fingers, pulled to the face and desperately clung to them, kissing (more like sloppily licking...) white wrist through gasps and screams. For a moment Snow King's mouth left his length. Boy sobbed in protest, but cold fingers caressed his cheek and a tongue touched his entrance. Moved over wrinkled skin, slightly sneaking into tight muscle ring. Wrapped around balls and returned to twitching boy's arousal. Yuuri tossed on sheets violently. Screaming. Digging teeth into porcelain wrist. His (not so strong in Snow King's arms in general) self-control cracked. He didn't even think about moving away or saying something to his Yuki no Kami. He wasn't able to think or talk at all... Only when the world around stopped spinning, he released the grip on white hand and opened eyes breathing hard. Splinters of the northern sky looked right at him. Playful, happy and with hidden bitter tenderness. Whitish traces covered his face and some silver locks. With a soft smile Victor raised his exhausted boy from the bed and pulled into tight embrace, pressing Yuuri's head to the shoulder. Boy still breathed hard looking through half-lidded eyes how his Snow King wiped his face with a free hand and licks fingers. Perfect lips touched stuck together from sweat dark hair: - Well, солнышко/sunshine, were U mine enough? Yuuri, who a moment ago was almost sleeping in Victor's embrace, moved with unexpectedly fresh strength. Pushed his King on sheets and set on his waist with almost demonic, too adult grin: - Enough?.. Obviously. Not. Victor's surprised gasp drowned into boy's kiss.

[Little Kay, when did U learn to be this intense?..]

Boy's tongue left lips of his King and moved over his face, replacing the rest of exact whitish spots with saliva. He moved down, marking porcelain skin with every kiss. Every next one under another. Crimson stairway to... Hell? Heaven? Like kids used to draw in the midnight on mirrors. Summoning for spirits from the another world. Calling for the supreme being... It will be visible tomorrow... Yuuri left one more purple mark on Victor's ribs, smiling to this thought and in a corner of his mind desperately solving a problem: how to make this overcaring Snow God to do the same to him... To show everyone they belong to each other. Boy reached evidences of his inappropriate vision on the abdomen and began to clean them away with tongue too. Somehow he didn't feel embarrassed anymore. (Although anxiety will pretty much return in the morning. Being twice... No. Twenty times stronger. But not now... Now his entire being were filled only with his Yuki no Kami.) Wet traces on shivering beautiful body... Hard breath of his young King. Weak, caressing grip of cold fingers in dark silk. Yuuri almost roared, letting some more saliva droll from his tongue on white skin not far from Victor's arousal. Small boy's fingers smeared a wet spot over heating (like ultimate frost?) skin, touched the hardness and mixed it with precum. - Y-yuuri! - cracked gasp and arched back of his Snow King. Breathing hard, nearly chocking from tormenting mix of excitement and anxiety, boy caressed a white thigh and clumsily leaned to the hard muscle with the mouth. Not like he really knew what to do. When Victor did it to him he was too overwhelmed with excitement, pleasure and happiness to realize or remember exact movements. Boy tasted the wetness on arousal with the tip of his tongue, traced the vein and took all Snow King's length into the mouth, greedily trying to swallow every twitch, every drop of the proof his young God feels the same. The same as him. He imagined it so often before - sharing the love with his King like this. To give him all the lust and tenderness at once. To feel all Polar blizzard inside. This way. And many others... Every time thinking about it Yuuri had no choice but to please himself. In the corner of his clouded mind he remembered how it was. Moves that brought unsatisfying in a lonely room relief... Following this trace of thoughts boy fastened the pace, with a firmer grip, every time trying to gulp more. Small palm teasingly squeezed balls... - Yuuri!! Yuu-ri... M-move... Away... - husky scream and a soft push of white hand. Boy dug nails into porcelain hip and sucked harder... For less then a second grip of cold fingers in dark locks became forceful and almost violent. But during this moment Yuuri nearly came again, hungrily swallowing whitish heat and imbibing every toss and every scream of his the one and the only God. Breathing hard and still being unable to open eyes Victor blindly pulled his boy into a kiss. Tired, embarrassed but happy kiss: - Я люблю тебя... - husky whisper of Snow King warmed lips of his Kay. Then he gasped trying to return to reality: - Ah! It means.. - It means "I love U". Я тебя тоже, Снежный./ Love U too Snezhnblj. - Yuuri kissed blushing cheek and giggled, hiding his face in Victor's neck. How could his genius Kami be so naive and think he didn't learn this most important phrase in his language beforehand?...

[fallenangelofmurderhusbands]

Death’s Beloved - A Hannigram Fic

((I can’t believe I am finally posting this somewhere. This is the first fic I have written for this wonderful fandom - and myself - and I hope you all enjoy it! Please let me know if you find any errors, or have any comments. Right now this is just a simple stand alone one shot, but if enough readers request, I may create a sequal. 

Special thank you to @spider-viking @goddessakinator @asswhippingspoon @skeleton-wearing-a-bikini and @fataldrum for being amazing betas and offering to help me out! Sorry if I missed anyone, if I did just let me know and I’ll add you in!

Enjoy you lovely fannibals! 

-ML))

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        It was time. He had fought against it for so long.

Will’s eyes flicked down to his wrist, unfocused and distant they scanned over the date and times marked there.

                    August 29th 2013 – 11:58 pm. August 29th 2013 – 11:59 pm. August 30th 2013 – 12:00 am.

        He knew what the black tattoos scrawling across his wrist meant –  everyone had a similar one. The first was when you would accomplish your lifelong goal, the second when you would meet your soulmate and the third when you would die. Luckily for him, all the times on his wrist were minutes apart. As for why it was unlucky, well, no one wanted to never be able to live with their soulmate. He’d tried his hardest to make his times change. As rare as it was, there were stories of some who’d managed the feat. He’d tried everything, from praying to attempting suicide, but it was always met with the same outcome – nothing. Prayers went unanswered, and he was always found and saved before death could claim him. He’d eventually stopped trying, letting destiny carry him to his fate, numb to the pity people tossed his way.

        Will believed it was easier this way – living alone, surrounded by dogs and acres of empty land. People were distracting, what with all the pity and sorrow clouding their eyes. He didn’t need them to feel bad for him. After his third and last suicide attempt in high school, he had accepted that he would never have a life with the person he was destined to love. Instead, he poured his life and love into his passions and dreams. Fishing and writing became his escape from work, people, and the harsh reality in which he lived.

Now he stood at his front door, key halfway to the lock, eyes on his wrist. Today was the day. August twenty-ninth. The inevitable was closing in, and all he could do was heave a sigh. Finally, he shook his head in an attempt to clear it, unlocked his door, and went inside. His herd of happy dogs greeted him, causing him to remain by the door to properly say hello and goodbye to each one. It was the buzzing of his cell that eventually forced him to move, setting down his keys and pulling out his phone. Jack’s number glowed under his phone’s clock, the time mocking him as it slowly ticked away. 8:00 pm. Four hours, the voice in his head whispered. Too long. Will hit the decline button, ignoring the call. Not tonight, Jack. Of all the nights, definitely not tonight.

Despite his oncoming death, a small smile appeared on his face as he walked into his bedroom, gaze falling onto the moonlit writing desk on which rested a book. Published under a pseudonym, the book was Will’s first step in achieving his life goal to change the world and be remembered after his death. It hadn’t so much been his ego as it was fear of fading from existence that had created the goal.

But now, a sense of calm washed through him as he took a seat and slid his book from the center of the desk to the top left corner to make room for the last draft of his second and final book. He pulled it from the top drawer to his right – it was sitting carefully atop the stack of previous rough drafts. His first book had taken off, becoming a bestseller for four consecutive years, and remaining in the top five for two more. The time stamp on his wrist told him he would succeed (although it could be argued that he had already), but that his last book would be published posthumously. Aware and uncaring, of the fact he wouldn’t experience the joy of publication again, he nevertheless lost himself in a final editing session with a carefree smile. At least this book would have his real name on the cover. If you couldn’t escape your fate, you might as well embrace it. Will had learned that lesson long ago.

        As fate had decreed, when he set his pen down for the last time, final draft complete, the clock read 11:58. Deciding he had a moment to spare (and not wanting to meet his soulmate in the bedroom, of all places), he headed to the kitchen for a celebratory glass of wine.

A man appeared as his tongue touched sweet, red liquid for the first time that night. Will’s eyes widened slightly as he shakily set his glass back down on the counter, taking in the sight before him. Only slightly taller, but with an ethereal air of confidence Will could never hope (literally, now) to emulate, the man that stood before him sported an immaculate dark plaid suit and bittersweet expression with equal grace and naturalness. His silver-streaked hair had been combed back into smooth but slightly choppy swoops, and Will could catch a glimpse of piercing amber eyes from underneath their soft streaks. The man spoke first, voice warm but words sending a shiver down Will’s spine. “I am Death,” was all he said before sweeping forward to taste the unswallowed wine on Will’s blood-stained lips. The clock struck midnight as their lips met and the sweet kiss of Death stole his breath and his soul.

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Will woke up to darkness blanketing the room. Rolling over in the bed, he reached out for his bedside lamp and upon finding it, flicked it on. He sat up with a yawn, then felt his eyes grow wide when he saw he wasn’t in his room. The suite sized bedroom was magnificent – Roman in taste, with white marble walls and high ceilings. Furnished with what appeared to be ludicrously expensive possessions, Will found himself awestruck by the sight before him.

        Awe gave way to confusion and surprise, which clouded his mind as he hesitantly got out of bed with the intention of exploring. He noticed the balcony doors were open to let in a warm night breeze and, drawn to the view he’d seen, he walked towards them. He hesitated when he saw a figure standing with its back to him, but when calm instead of fear seeped into his heart, he found the courage to approach the man. Will was welcomed with kind eyes and a warm smile, which he returned effortlessly (to his surprise). Still unsure of where he was and who he was with, Will tried his best to review his memories, only to find he couldn’t recall them. A hazy barrier, which was slowly ebbing away to his relief, kept them at bay for the moment.

        “You are awake. I was curious as to how long you would sleep.”

Will smiled as he gazed at the starry sky, but his brows creased when the realization came to him.

        “You’re Death… and my soulmate…” His voice trailed off in a wary whisper as the now-dubbed Death nodded. “Where is the moon, Death?” He could feel his memories slowly returning to him as he gazed out at the infinite space.

        “It has yet to die. Therefore, it cannot exist upon this plane.” Death paused a moment before continuing. “Tell me, what was it like to die?”

The soft voice snapped him back to awareness, memories flooding in, but the last thing he remembered was the kiss. His confusion manifested as sassiness as he responded. “What the hell are you talking about?”

        “You do not remember?” Death pursed his lips at his love’s choice of language, but if he disapproved, he didn’t address it.

        “I remember you kissing me and then I woke up here. Are you telling me I died, then?” Even as he asked, the answer was made evident by his blank wrist. The dates and times only left if the act had been fulfilled. He was indeed dead.

        “Contrary to the epics of old, you could not join me here unless you were dead. So, in short, yes. You died as we kissed.”

        “The kiss of Death. I could kill you for being so cliché.” Will chuckled, relaxing a bit more in Death’s presence. Of course the man he was destined to spend eternity with thrived on cliché puns.

        “Darling, I am already dead,” Death chided halfheartedly, amused by the man’s fiery spirit which, even in the realm of the dead, had brought a spark of life. He would become a powerful reaper, Death realized, and the idea pleased him greatly. A gently kiss drew him from his thoughts.

        “Care to share, love? What were you thinking about?” The pet name slid off Will’s tongue before he could catch it, but he didn’t care. After years of running, he’d finally learned fate’s plan for him – to love and be loved by this man – so why shouldn’t he start trusting in fate and in Death?

        “You.” Death smiled down at him, wrapping him in a strong and surprisingly warm embrace.

        “What about me?”

        “Your future, specifically. You have the potential to become a very powerful reaper.”

        “Oh. So now I have to work for my husband?” Will feigned annoyance, though his words carried weight.

        “Alongside, not for. I would never treat you as anything but my equal. Speaking of which – please call me Hannibal. Death is merely a title. It is not my name. And we cannot keep calling each other pet names forever. Would a first name basis not be more appropriate, Will? We are soulmates after all.”

        “U-um, yes we are soulmates. And yes, we should be, Hannibal. Now, if you would be so kind as to answer my question love, how do I become this ‘powerful reaper’?” Will smirked defiantly.

        “It is a process –  a becoming, so to speak. But it starts with the taking of your first life.” Hannibal sighed at Will’s dramatics and focused on the question instead.

        “Well, what are we waiting for?” Will smirked again as he saw the fire dance behind Hannibal’s eyes. He said nothing, and for once, nothing was the only answer Will needed.

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        The bracelet around his wrist caught the moonlight as his hand shot up to grip the jaw of the man before him. He had smoke in his eyes and Death at his back as he sucked the soul from yet another victim. As a murderer of families, this soul had been condemned to Hell.

        Hannibal had been right – his love carried a spark of life within his soul, and this stopped him from being able to reap the souls of the innocent. Will’s splinter of life caused him to empathize with them until he was incapable of taking their vibrant life. Death loved this about him, and was always there to reap those that Will couldn’t – Hannibal would never force him to give up his gift.

        However, when it came to the souls condemned to Hell, Will was merciless. Often finding pleasure in stealing their spark of life, he once admitted to Hannibal that doing bad things to bad people felt good and powerful. Hannibal’s response had merely been to smile in praise.

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Now, many years later, Will Graham is still remembered. His last book has become a classic, the material helping to better the world even as years progressed. But he is also remembered by a different name. Mortis Cupitus. Death’s Beloved. His presence has found its way into mythology. Stories told in the dead of night describe the man who takes vengeance on those who have sinned. Some say he is made from smoke and justice, others say he is dark matter and starlight. But despite the variations and ambiguity within each account, one fact remains constant – the bracelet around his wrist.

        As the saying goes, the charm bracelet had been a celebratory gift from Death after his love’s first kill, and Death’s Beloved adds a charm to the bracelet for every life he takes. The jingling of the charms is the only warning you get that he is there, and the flash of moonlight on the bracelet as his hand rises to your jaw is the last thing you’ll remember seeing before he sucks out your soul.

[boy-yandere]

[Louis felt a cold thrill travel through his body. She said yes. She said yes. It was more he could ever ask for. He would have done it anyway even if she said no, but just the knowledge that she accepted her punishment brought a smile to his face. He hummed, kissing her forehead, feeling the need for blood.]

Good girl.

[What was better is that she told him he could kill that pig of a man. He could end his life, he could stop his heart slowly and painfully. Another shiver ran up his spine.]

What would you like me to do to him? Rip out his tongue? Cut off his fingers? Burn him?

Tell me.

[It would make the torture better, more meaningful for him, if his Lily, his beloved, told him what to do in excruciating detail. Murder excited him, that was for sure.]

[He couldn’t hold on any longer. Taking her by the arm, he all but dragged her into a very special room, one he knew well. He was not the one who got cut, burned, chained, tortured, but he watched with that sick fascination, even as a child. And he could not wait to show Lily. She liked it, right? Turning to her, that same emotion deep within his eyes, he smiled again.]

And I love you, Lily.

[His heart warmed, then chilled. He felt the change. It was elating.]

Do you like it?

[Tell me you like it.]

My father used to bring my here all the time.

[He sung, feelings his hands starting to shake. Oh, this room held so many memories. Of course, he had changed it since his father’s death. He had no taste whatsoever. Louis had almost drowned in all the devices he had purchased just for that special human. Which, he had discovered to be Lily. It was all so moving.]

[He barely even registered the plead she held in her eyes. He was too excited. He wanted to see her bleed, he wanted to hear her scream. Louis chose carefully, and hurried to strap her to the chosen area. The position pleased him. She was in the exact position his brother was in, just before his father told him to watch, watch how I make him bleed. This is how much I love your brother. You will never know this love. Of course, it was different, now. Louis had discovered the love of a partner. It was all so different.]

[Humming, contempating over the device to cut her with, he thought to use the hammer, bringing it up almost lovingly, twisting it in his fingers. How he loved that tool. But, it wasn’t useful. He wanted to carve Lily, not bruise her, not crush her bones. That was for another time. Instead, he chose a knife with a white blade. He adored this one almost as much as his hammer, because of the way the blood splattered across the blade. It was so pretty. Almost as pretty as his beloved.]

[He had made his decision. Louis turned to his love, smiling, adoration clouding his gaze. A flicker of something, something dark was held in the very depth of his sharp eyes. Caressing her face, so, so softly, he leaned in, so she may be able to see the love he held for her.]

[He drove the knife into her arm, relishing the way it seemed to slide through her flesh. And she said no. He paused, hands shaking, and met her gaze.]

No?

[His blue eyes hardened.]

What do you mean, no?

[She apologised. He was not satisfied. But he would take it.]

Don’t let it happen again.

[He carved again, the blood licking the blade. It oozed, fell like a waterfall. He loved every second of it. First, L. He took his time, making sure every letter was perfect. Then, O. He giggled, tempted to have a taste of that red, red liquid. Oh, it was so tempting. U. He especially loved this letter. Down, then up! It was so much fun with the knife. I. Boring, so he made it as slow as he could. Lily was doing so well not to scream; he would reward her for that. Finally, S. Lily screamed. He laughed, cruelly, clearly maddened with the sight, the scent of blood.]

Tell me, Lily!

[First, one arm. Then, he started on the next. Oh, he wasn’t done yet!]

Where does that disgusting man live?

What does he hate the most?

Should I burn him? Should I slit his wrists? Make him bleed out?

[Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tellmetellmetellmetellmetellmetellme-]

Go on! I promise I won’t get mad~

[It had been two days since Louis left her restrained to that bed after he'd caught her. No food, no water. Lily was delirious. Her body was numb from the restraints and she slept most of the time. It was only when she heard a few noises that sounded like footsteps did she snap awake.] L-Louis...? Is... is that you? 🍒

[Louis had, well, healed over the time apart from Lily. If one could count his violent activities ‘healing’. Still, he knew Lily would be suffering. It had been a long time; Louis had forgotten how long. Today, he would pull himself back, stitch the wounds up. So, he decided to visit her today. He knocked softly on the door, hearing a muffled voice beyond.]

Are you awake, Lily?

[He loved her. He still loved her. He wished their relationship would go back to what it was before she tried to escape. Perhaps this was his chance.]

[valorxdrive]

“Sorry, but I don’t lose.”

Proof behind such declaration could be the miniature rivers of crimson spilling down his opponent’s body. Pain unending, seemingly everlasting, for a fleeting moment all of that raw grit finds itself cracking under a fight he truly couldn’t of anticipated. Nothing but wavering vision is what fixates him onto the figure carefully stepping towards his fallen prey.

Sora had nothing but the smattering heft of blood to expel from his lips. So so so much. Energy felt as if it was bleeding alongside of the natural liquid of his being as he’s pressured down onto a single knee.

‘Can I really..?’ With one singular thought did the ascension to his end finally begin.

The promised crystal begin to creep from the ether, pristine, prominent all while holding a cosmic force not yet fully known. No amount of attention could be grated to such a design, nor to the fact it’s gradually restricting his movement.

♕ - What swelled into mind and heart was a torrent of relief. Any hardship sustained was gradually being drained as the encroaching sharp edge continued it’s warpath, gradually sweeping over his legs, up the extent of his arm and soon seething along another. In a way it’s mystifying, a forceful calm taking away the agonies of life itself as it begins to fully draw him into a ‘savior’s’ embrace. Heterochromatic eyes would be the last witness upon the keybearer’s fall. Any struggling remnants of willpower was made to bring himself higher.. But for what? As the comfort only intensifies such sensations of serenity... Why had he been struggling to such maddening degrees to begin with?

Why fight when a safe haven was enveloping him entirely, removing the burden, allowing any thoughts united with his purpose to seep like the spilled crimson his body once ushered?

Crossing over what he believed to be his vision would be blinding white.

....

........

Comfortable. Somewhere. Anywhere. ..Nowhere? Mindless thoughts found themselves melting away as nothing but pleasant serenity pervaded every nook and cranny. In untold ways it was soothing, unnaturally so to find himself wading through a gentle ivory abyss. Any urge to allow those cerulean eyes to be hidden from the world was overbearing, barely outweighed by emotions that haven’t yet found rest. How could they when the giddiness ebbed into soul lifting contentment? Nothing but the sweetest memories begin to pepper Sora’s heart and mind as everlasting crystal encases him.

Rest. There was no need to fight, no need to struggle, that was the continuous demand drawn as a silent hum commands. Focus on what sprawls before his sight, what nostalgia grants the ears and the effort of letting all p--n escape. A lingering moment of seconds stretched an eternity’s worth of memories in the pool of his heart. Carefree days spent dreaming of heroism alongside of his dear friends, the quieter instances, grandiose moments underneath a starlit sky as hefty smoke and chimes of laughter signaled another camp out. The pristine shine of Destiny Islands and the many, beloved faces it held and revealed to him, all revealing their shamelessly bright smiles towards him.

His parents. R--u, K---i, Tidus, Selphie and Wakka too.

Another turn of the turbulent pages had revealed times that were.. static-y? Splintered fragments of memory were attempting to fight through an invisible force. Sights of a shield whose love protected any ally from harm, the stalwart beat of magic made through a wand, bending the elements to either desolate it’s foes or offer life giving magics when he needed it most.. Who did these belong too?

Smiles. So faint, so hard to remember, yet the feelings that gave brings a nostalgia so potent it nearly brings tears to his eyes then and there. D----d, G---y.

Soon the beat of the memories begin to swim by faster as more hazy recollections were desperately scraped by. Times in a town once drenched.. No, one that always held peace, shining with a pristine radiance as the prominent city of light. Many worlds that held many people, all who held no problems.. Problems?

When did he..?

Why... Was he relaxing so much in this moment?

A terrified lunge of the heart stirred an awakening beat that roars through the entirety known as Sora. Grating within his ears if the harrowing howl of a power loosening it’s grip of control, desperately vying to give positives back into the set of emotions bubbling akin to a cauldron’s fury. Emotions introduced awareness, this very awareness brings back a very cradled and important truth to the wielder of the keyblade. All this was feeling too good, too right. The very source of what brought him here was fading away fast.. Too fast, almost as if a force was attempting to tear away any weight from his beloved burden.

The pain that allowed him to connect with so many precious people in his life.

“....No.” The instant denial of arriving paradise was a rebellious curse spilled from his lips. From the view of an outsider as the mysterious transgression takes place, the one known as Yozora who intends to close the curtain found himself rendered into a pause while a gloved palm rests upon the crystallized Sora.

“...!!” Realization dawns. Charging underneath build of this power was settled in the realm deigned impossibility. A familiar beat, one so foreign yet so brutishly true, one that draws lethal promises in terms of resolve. Despite having carefully placement upon his knee, the resonating beat of that caged heart felt like shattered shackles. Another, more powerful beat causes the miniature garden of crystal with it’s latest piece to be violently interrupted, a harsh gale spilling from the frozen body, causing Yozora to stumble back as the lost feelings of heart managed to briefly echo within the depths of his own unknown.

Drawing across the pristine mark of the statue as a fierce press of abstract chaos would be webbed cracks. Splinters of crystal, iridescent rays pouring from every crevice forcefully drawn before a loud crash echoes out. What first draws it’s freedom would be his hand, arched in such a fashion, grasping onto life from the jaws of peaceful death itself. Following would be a firm jut of the head, leading to the eruption of a face etched in a furious scowl, caring naught of the mysterious strength that attempts to give him a peaceful end.

No. To rid of his pain, another means of connecting him to the power he adores...

That would be a fate worse than death itself.

“Just who do you.. Think you... ARE!” Plowing through the entire arena would be a strength that even hijacks the surrounding dominance of this mysterious city before them. The illusion would find itself shattered, similar to the very cage that aimed to forever lock his heart away. Ripples of strength would draw the ‘steel’ to melt away, for the night’s sky to crackle and shatter from the skies above, revealing the very station that such a battle was taking place. Right now, what was involved was the heart of Sora.

A heart that intends to pay the Ultimate Price and survive.

Blistering energy erupts to the surroundings with ‘precise’ force of a natural disaster. It could truly be considered an incarnate of chaos as light, darkness and the power of bonds coalesced around the newly healed figure of the Keybearer as he remains skyborn. Light spilled from muscle, sinew and Keyblade akin to a freshly snapped bottleneck. Right now the many people who were depending on him, who he depended on, the very belief of self was riding on a fight that aimed to steal it all within a heartbeat.

To eternally freeze him on the path he intends to walk.

Hovering above the resting caricature on the station of his very heart, a passionate blaze was incited in those eyes, peering down to the speechless figure who braved so many trials to reach this very spot.. To accomplish this goal of saving Sora. Just.. Who was he saving exactly?

Before his eyes was a sleeping dog truly awoken. One that intends to never lose sight purpose that the paradoxical vastness known as his heart instilled in him.

“You’re not staying in my way!”

Round 2.