#My idea was that in the guard school they just ALWAYS ate meat

[lieutenant-amuel]

if Valerio doesn’t eat meat, does it mean he’s a vegetarian?

Nope. He just doesn’t like the taste of meat whether it’s pork, beef, chicken, or anything else. But he loves fish and seafood in general so he cannot be considered a vegetarian.

[ganymedesclock]

"Normal looking person has terrifying teeth. bonus points if they have an extending/splitting jaw or retractable teeth or something like that" this seems... oddly specific. how'd you find out you like this?

It was a long process starting at my middle school goth phase where tiny vampire fangs were neat, and then later I was like, "well, that's not very scary is it, it could be scarier" and that graduated to progressively bigger scary teeth until I realized that the average human jaw can only fit so much teeth in it, and then I saw the art of @deadwooddross and it cracked open some brave new frontiers regarding how people can look.

Really in general it seems more specific than it is, it's generally that I think horror mouth is a good concept-

(monkey brain says bared teeth bad? Social repulsion of hunger, humanity's own predatory instincts and the primal hunting behaviors that once fed us, and one need not look any further than modern diet culture to consider that man has a very precarious nature indeed with the hunger that has always defined us? something else entirely? the fine line between the alluring, desirable, or appealing mouth that might yield tender kisses or speak sweet words and the aforementioned primal nature and threat potential of mouths?)

-and then throughout my life, in both consuming and creating art, I'm trying to challenge myself to outgrow the mindset that for something to be good or likable or deserving of patience or attention in any way it has to be the least offensive, prettiest thing- so slapping a horrible unfolding bobbit worm mouth or a leering skull grimace or a great slobbery aperture on a human face is a good challenge to that regard.

Honestly, anon, I think your question is a good one! Like I said, when I first discovered Dross's art, I was really amazed at their monster designs and it got me frustrated with the level of monstrosity in my own art. I was left wondering how someone could come to such wonderfully gross, unsettling, specific concepts. It's been years since then, and I think I can confidently say it's all just a matter of practice and inspiration!

I know we can often think of creativity as something semi-divine, born from the void (or, jokingly, as some like to insinuate, affected by psychoactive substances) and nothing us mere mortals can change- but really it's a lot more of a practical skill. For me, challenging my assumptions and interrogating my thoughts does a lot of the legwork- the important other piece is that this engine of analysis is driven by new ideas being pumped in from the things I consume.

While this has nothing to do with teeth, I remember seeing- incidentally, in a gif, I've never watched the movie and don't really plan to- Moder, the bestial antagonist of a live-action horror movie called The Ritual. Moder is a beautiful monster; she has a really unique design evoking a moose, with a hidden but disconcertingly humanlike face and two dangling arms where her mouth should be. Seeing her in motion struck me all at once that I had never really seen, before then, an ungulate monster. Hoofed creatures are conceptualized with a sort of unthreatening banality; the docile cow, the sweet innocent deer, the sacred unicorn, the majestic but servile horse. Seldom do we get this sort of old-god megafauna feeling cut loose in such a creature, and yet, looking at Moder, why the fuck not? At a point in the movie itself she effortlessly overtakes one of the main characters at a run, her great powerful legs and thrashing hooves causing her to keep pace with him in a moment that seems profoundly effortless before she banks to the side and decides to end the chase.

To bring this back to "why teeth", I think that horror character design is really a case where you just gotta look to your idols, in life and in creative works! Find something that fucks you up, even and ESPECIALLY something that seems stupid, and then gently lie back somewhere comfortable and look at the ceiling, and entertain, "wouldn't it be fucked up if you met a person whose entire face was just a pleasant mask and when they actually ate something their whole head hinged upwards to reveal their real mouth, which is just a gaping, cavernous, tooth-riddled throat?"

And it doesn't necessarily have to be teeth. There's no rule of what's exceptionally scary. For me, I like teeth. Like thinking about them. There's something about teeth and savagery and decorum and speech and the complex dance between them that, at risk of sounding insufferable, is one of the endless interstitial crossroads that make humans human.

Another very dear inspiration of mine is the decorum and presentation of the skeksis from The Dark Crystal- they simultaneously scratch my itch for predatory sophonts whose intelligence doesn't completely cut their instincts and court dramas where the image of high society is used as a contrast to the brutal and often ugly, undignified nature of ambition, pettiness, greed and lust- and they don't just serve up both of those flavors but use them to enrich each other, so that we are watching these vicious hyena birds stalking around, all puffed-up in arrogance, using gilded nail-guard forks and toothpicks, while devouring a horrible vampiric gluttonous feast and snarling at each other as they pass too close like starving wolves about to tear each other to pieces.

So I guess that's the essential linchpin of why I like unfolding or distending mouths, because it also conveys that sort of quality about a character. If your mouth splits like a flower, to a horrible toothy construct useful for mauling and threshing..... it's not going to be very good for speech. Reining it in to a humanlike configuration is stifling, and suppresses the true nature of a very specialized meat grinder, but it allows you to relate to things as something other than threats and prey. A sort of literal and figurative, sympathetic and horrifying, two-faced nature. It also plays to a good old vampire classic, the "game face" where a creature who might look beguiling and beautiful reveals a nasty appetite and a dangerous side, in a very pulpy organic fashion- it's no glamour, it's just cheeks that can retreat and a jawbone that splits.

[crossbows-and-moonshine]

Screaming Salvation (Part two)

Was supposed to upload one a day of these until I run out and totally forgot lmaoooo

Let me know what you guys are thinking of this so far. This story may be somewhat darker than my usual. I don't know if dark is the right word for it but there is a lot of hurt and healing and shit involved. 

Fun fact! The name of the fic was originally ‘The Hurt, The Hope’. Which is another As It Is song from the same album. I think it's self-explanatory why. The hurt is all they've been through, the hope is the kids. Carl, Judith and the new baby are the future of this new world. But I thought the other song fit it better so I changed it.

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

It had been a few hours since they’d found Rosalie, and they'd done nothing but walk. Her already tired body and sore feet were screaming at her, and the cut on her arm was throbbing. Rick had said once they found shelter someone would stitch it for her. They didn't have time to stop and do it out in the open, it was too dangerous and it was getting dark. Some people had tried to introduce themselves. A woman named Maggie and her husband Glenn finding it their job to be the welcome party. Maggie pointed to everyone in the group and told her their names but she found it hard to care. She doubted she would be staying long. Once the woman realised the new girl didn't want to speak, only nodding or shaking her head and staring off at nothing, she decided it was best to leave her be. Maggie wondered if she was always like this or if it was the trauma of the day. 

Rosalie noticed the crossbow guy, Daryl apparently, walking next to her the whole time. He seemed to do this thing where it felt like he projected outwards, like a protective shell that encompassed her and the baby. She wasn't sure if she was imagining it or just delirious from lack of blood and food. He never strayed far from her, and when they had to stop for a small break if someone got too tired, he seemed to hover close to her. Always alert and tense as he watched out for threats. He never seemed to let his guard down, and Rosalie knew that feeling. She had to be that way surviving on her own. If it wasn't for the fact she was injured and stupidly fucking tired, she would be the same way in that moment. The only reason she had some semblance of not being wound so tightly was the fact that she was with people, strength in numbers. She felt his gaze on her every so often but didn't care, keeping her eyes ahead. She had felt from the get-go that Daryl could easily suss people out. She just figured maybe that's what he was doing. She couldn't bring herself to care if he was. She wasn't a threat to his people, not unless they were a threat to her.

When they finally found shelter, she almost fell to the floor and kissed it out of desperation. She was beyond tired and she really didn't want to be out late in the dark with the baby. It was a run-down cabin in the woods, and after clearing it, they all filled in. They sat in the living space, a fire going to keep them warm, and the red-headed man and Latina woman took watch at the windows. When Rick handed her a bottle of formula like he promised, Rosalie felt like someone had cracked open all of her ribs. The pain and guilt were eating her alive. Even though she wasn't thrilled to be hanging with a group, she was grateful and she wanted to thank him. The words wouldn't come out though but Rick could see it in her eyes, how touched she was. He just gave her a warm smile and a pat to the shoulder. It was strange to her, ever since she relented to his request to join them, he’d acted like she was one of them. Part of the group. His words from earlier echoed in her mind. We look out for our own. She didn't feel like part of the group though. She didn't feel like one of them, and she didn’t want to. She felt like an outsider. A mere travel companion until she got her shit together enough to trust that she could look after the baby outside, or leave the baby with them. She was sitting near the fire for warmth, near the group but not directly next to anyone, clearly keeping her distance. And as soon as the boy greedily drank the formula, he happily nuzzled into her and fell asleep in her arms in his dirty blue onesie.

“How old is he?” Maggie asked from across the fire, her eyes on the sleeping boy with a caring smile. Rosalie nibbled her lip a little, avoiding all the eyes that seemed to fall on her. She never liked being the centre of attention. It felt like being the new girl in school all over again.

“I don't know,” was her blunt reply, causing a few raised eyebrows and some frowns.

“You don’t know?” Carol asked her, looking almost incredulously at her. Like how can someone not know how old their baby was, the idea was absurd.

“He’s not mine, I found him two months ago,” she said tensely, her hands protectively tightening around the boy as she glanced up, shooting a glare to the older woman. She noticed Carol's eyes widen a little, and something akin to pity or sadness crossing her features. She presumed most of the others did the same.

“You found him?” Rick asked her curiously. He was sitting off to her right, next to his son Carl and Daryl. Judith on Carl's lap. Rosalie chewed the inside of her cheek trying not to get agitated by the people that had helped her. It was natural they were curious, but she didn't want to talk about it. When she talked about it, it meant it was real and that she was in fact the sole carer of a baby that wasn't hers. She felt that crushing weight of pressure in her chest again.

“He was in the woods alone outside. I heard him crying and went to look… His mom wasn't too far away getting made into a snack,” she muttered with a dark glare at Rick, making it obvious this wasn't something she wanted to talk about. She saw the man swallow thickly and glance to the sleeping boy. She knew too well what he was thinking. How if she hadn't turned up the baby would have been next, and that was a dark thought indeed. But to the group, it also spoke volumes about what kind of person she was. To save the baby, to raise him as her own. A baby in this world was no easy feat. It was like an alarm bell for dinner for the dead, and it made it so much harder to survive. Yet she had done it, no hesitation.

A dark silence took over the group, grim thoughts swirling around their mind. Most of them thinking about baby Judith and how lucky she was not to be in that situation.

“Have you named him?” Carl spoke up, his eyes looked upon her kindly. She didn't know how she felt about that. She tensed a little, the archer next to Rick noticing. He’d noticed everything about her, observant as ever.

“I just call him Tiny,” she shrugged, making Carl snort a little. The adults didn’t find it amusing though because they knew. They knew why the boy had no name. Rosalie was terrified of naming the boy, terrified of forming an attachment other than keeping him alive for fear that something would happen. To her or the baby, none of which mattered. But ultimately the girl knew deep in her bones that one way or another, they would be separated, and she was scared to become attached to him. 

Her eyes drifted to the little boy sleeping soundly curled into her. Despite every effort to not get attached to him, the girl who held no hope long before the turn had gotten very attached to him. She fucking hated herself for it, for making herself so weak and vulnerable.

“I think he looks like a Jacob,” Carol mused softly, a smile directed at the baby in Rosalie's arms.

“I like that name for him, suits him,” Maggie grinned, making Rosalie clench her jaw at people trying to name the baby that was her responsibility and hers alone. Again that conflicting feeling. She had thought about leaving the boy with them, she shouldn't be getting angry at them for naming him. What the fuck did she care? But she did, she fucking cared and it made her mad.

Much to her relief the focus soon turned from her and the boy, to people just talking to each other. She kept feeling eyes on her and when she glanced up, she noticed Daryl looking right at her through his hair as he chewed his thumb. He didn't look away, the both of them just looking at each other for a moment before Rosalie looked down at the baby. She wasn't sure what was going on with the man. She couldn't figure out if he wanted to protect her or put a bolt through her heart at the first chance he’d get. She was struggling to get a read on him now with his stoic gaze. 

She felt her stomach grumble and she couldn't remember the last time she ate. She grabbed her pack and looked around, finding what she was looking for; squirrel meat wrapped in cloth. She’d caught it herself with the bow the ugly assholes from earlier had taken from her. Lucky for her, it was the only thing they had taken. But it was still a big blow as she didn't know how else to hunt for food. She had prepped it, rationing it and storing it in her bag. She didn't have much, yet for just her and the baby, it would have lasted about a week. Her eyes looked around at the others, noticing they too hadn’t eaten since they found her. She growled inwardly at the niggling feeling inside of her, telling her to share her food, to do the right thing. She wouldn't have to deal with this shit if she was alone. But they had helped her, and Rick had given her formula for the baby without any fuss or hesitation. She couldn't ignore that. She sighed a little as she took the meat wrapped in cloth, reaching over to Rick next to her and silently handing it to him. She heard the soft murmur of conversion stop around her, once more being the focus of attention she’d rather not have. 

Rick looked at her confused before he unwrapped it, his stomach partially growling when he saw the meat. He knew it wasn't much for their group, but it was more than enough. More than what they currently had, which was nothing. And what's more, it was obvious this was precious to her. This was hers and would have kept her going for quite a bit. He looked a little surprised at the gesture and looked at her. She felt the heat creeping its way up her chest to her cheeks. She really hated people noticing her existence. She wasn't used to it. To Rick, although the gesture was a simple one, it carried a lot of weight to him. She could have easily not told them about it, or even just cooked it for herself. But she chose to share it with him, with his group. It was yet another thing that spoke volumes to him of what kind of person she was.

“Are you sure?” he asked hesitantly. Of course he fucking wanted the food, he needed it, they all did. Daryl had not been able to find anything when he’d gone hunting earlier that day and they were all starved. But he also didn't want her to feel like she had no choice but to hand it over to them. She just gave him a nod before looking back at the boy, stroking his dark hair a little as if to ground her. She felt uncomfortable being around this many people. All these eyes watching her and judging her. It made her skin crawl.

“Thank you,” Rick smiled. A real genuine smile that he couldn't remember the last time was on his face. The others murmured the same as they looked at her, grateful for her help, but she didn't want any of it. She wanted them to stop looking at her. Carol took the meat and started cooking it as everyone fell into conversation again, making her relax just slightly. She chanced a glance up again only to see Daryl's eyes once again on hers. But this time he gave her a little nod of thanks, seeming to take note of how uncomfortable she was with everyone looking at her and making it into a big deal. He knew that feeling all too well, he was the same. He remembered back in the prison, how people acted like he was some sort of hero for going out hunting and he hated that shit. She returned the nod and glanced back down. She really didn't know how she felt about this group yet. It wasn't long after that the meat was cooked due to how small she had cut it up, and they all ate in companionable silence. Grateful for the food in their bellies, even if it wasn't that much.

She sighed and tried to get comfortable and winced at her arm again. It hadn't been stitched. She had been adamant the baby needed food first and then he’d fallen asleep. It had stopped bleeding, the blood coagulating and starting to form a scab, but it was still hurting and pulled every time she moved it.

“Let's get you stitched up,” Rick said softly, noticing her reaction to moving her arm. He didn't want the girl's arm to get infected and it didn't take a genius to see how little she seemed to care for her own well being over the boy’s. Rather letting him sleep comfortably than get her arm seen to. Daryl got up without prompting and rummaged through a duffel, getting out a first aid kit and walking over to her. He sat beside her, glancing at the baby. He couldn't do this when she was holding him, but he wasn’t sure just how to voice it. Not when he’d observed how protective she was over him. She looked at the man, knowing what he was thinking, and Maggie picked up on it too.

“I can take him for you,” she offered with a warm smile. Rosalie tensed a little, her arm holding the boy tighter, something else that Daryl observed. He could see the war inside of herself. To trust a stranger to hold the boy, and he watched her carefully as she finally relented. He knew it was a hard decision for her to make, and he knew if the shoe was on the other foot and it was Judith, he would have been the same. Maggie gently took the sleeping baby, grinning as she looked down upon him as she held him close. Rosalie looked at her, Maggie looked like a doting mother. It made her heart hurt and she swallowed thickly. Maybe Maggie would be a good person to trust the boy with. She felt eyes on her and glanced to see Daryl, still sat next to her watching her with careful eyes. It was almost like he knew just what she was thinking. That she was going to leave the baby with them because she felt useless and inadequate to do the job herself. She looked down from his gaze, it made her feel stripped bare. 

“Let me see it,” his voice was gruff but his tone was soft. It was a strange combination but she gave in anyway, lifting her arm to him with a wince. He took it in his large hands, examining it, furrowing his brow a little as he did and sucking through his teeth. It was bad, she was already aware of that. The man didn't know how she was acting so put together about it, like it was a tiny scratch. He grabbed a cloth and some alcohol to clean the wound before glancing at her through his long hair.

“S’gon’ hurt like a bitch,” he warned, his tone apologetic. He felt like the poor girl had already been through enough for one day, but if he didn't stitch her up it wouldn't end well for her. She looked at him and just gave a curt nod. She was well aware it would hurt, it wasn't the first time she’d been through this. 

He looked at her a little apprehensive for a moment, almost like he didn't want to do it. Up close like this he could see her very clearly. She was pretty and looked young, no older than 25. It was an odd combination with her fierce nature he had seen when she almost chopped off that pricks head right off his skinny ass shoulders. He saw the rage that took over her, he fucking felt the same rage when the asshole had muttered those vile fucking words that made him feel like he was going to throw up everywhere. He’d heard her growl and snarl like a wild wolf protecting her pup. And now seeing her up close, he was almost startled by how soft her face was. Her dark brown hair was matted and caked in blood and grime. He noticed it was chopped crudely to just above her shoulders, almost like she had taken a knife to it and hacked at it herself. Her eyes were wide, a light blue. Yet despite their colour, they looked dull, jaded at the things she had endured. Even through the layers of dirt and blood that covered her skin, he could see she was pale as can be, but it suited her. He could also see just how tired she was, and he wondered how the fuck this tiny little thing had not only managed to keep herself alive for so long, but the boy too. 

He was shocked when she had said the baby wasn't hers, that she had found him. From how protective she was of the boy, he never would have guessed she had been with him for only two months. That she wasn't his blood. He found himself grateful. Not only for the fact the baby was found at all before he endured something so horrific, but that it was Rosalie who had found him. How she had taken it upon herself to keep him alive no matter the cost. He was glad when Rick had made the decision to invite her to join them. He knew some others were a little apprehensive at first, but he knew why Rick had done so. And the reason was Judith. Daryl felt the same ache deep in his chest the second he heard the baby who was strapped to the scared girl. He felt like his stomach dropped right out of his ass and he couldn't possibly harm the girl when she was with a baby. Not unless she was a complete threat to them, which he knew she wasn't. He was ready to shoot if needed, but he could tell straight off the bat she wasn't a threat to him or the group unless they struck first. She had been desperate and wild-looking. He dreaded to think the hell she had been through to have that jaded look in her eyes, and he found an intense need to protect her and the boy. Gravitating towards them as they walked and keeping alert. He could see when she walked how tired she was. How she winced and limped a little and he knew her feet were hurting her. He couldn't imagine how she ever got any damn rest when it was just her and the boy. No one to take watch shifts with, to ever feel somewhat safe to sleep or stop for a rest. So he’d found himself by her side, protective and guarding, hoping she could sense that she could at least not be so alert and have some kind of rest. To know someone had her back for once. 

He realised he’d been staring at her arm for a moment deep in thought, and as much as he didn't want to hurt her, feeling the guilt bubbling inside of his chest. He knew he’d feel a fuck tonne more guilty if she died from infection and left the baby without his guardian. He’d noticed the look Rosalie gave Maggie, and he hoped he was fucking wrong about it. He couldn't shake the feeling the girl might up and leave, leaving the boy with them. He wasn't even angry about it. He knew why she would do such a thing, he saw it as clear as day in her eyes the moment she watched the boy with Maggie. She felt like she wasn't good enough, wasn't able to keep him alive. Guilty for not being able to look after him on her own as well as a group could have. But he didn't want her to leave. He wanted her to stay, for her and the baby to become part of the group. And he really hoped he was fucking wrong about what he thought. 

He got the thread ready with a needle, dowsing the needle in the alcohol to sterilize it. With one hand firmly gripping her arm, the other deftly started sewing the awful wound closed. She clenched her jaw, exhaling hard through her nose as she breathed through the pain without making a peep. It unsettled Daryl. It was almost like she'd experienced pain all too much in her life that she was used to it. No one else would have been able to act like that under the circumstances. He tried to work quickly and when he was done, he gave it another wipe with alcohol. He looked down at his work as did she, it wasn't perfect by any means but it was closed and that's what mattered. It would scar though, and the thought made Daryl angry. Angry that she would have a permanent reminder of those assholes and the things they said. The things they could have done to her and the boy before they even came across them. He wrapped her arm in a bandage, his rough hands surprisingly delicate as he undertook his task.

“Thanks,” she muttered, her voice quiet and raw sounding. He’d noticed the only few times she had spoken that her voice was quiet, and sounded so tired he wondered how she hadn’t just lay down and conked right out. He gave her a little nod and put the stuff back in the first aid kit, but he didn’t move back to his spot beside Rick. Instead he stayed next to her, leaning against the wall. She felt it again, the weird projection thing he seemed to do, and she wondered if he even knew he was doing it. She grabbed her pack and took out some dirty clothes, laying them on the floor next to her. She looked at Maggie expectantly, and Maggie gave her a sheepish smile as she handed the baby back over. Rosalie lay the baby down on the pile of clothes like a tiny makeshift mattress, before draping the blanket she used to carry him over him gently. Then she curled up next to him, protectively, her back to Daryl and the rest of them. She needed sleep so she felt better in the morning when they would head out again.

Despite the fact she was still slightly wary of the group, they'd done nothing but help her and the baby, and she was grateful. She was grateful to have a roof over their heads, for the baby to have food in his belly that he needed so desperately. To have some respite from being alone. For the fact she would be able to sleep for once. The strange projection that Daryl omitted made her feel safe. Like somehow without words, by staying next to her, giving off that vibe, he was saying to her to get some rest and she didn't need to worry. That her and the baby were safe and he wouldn't let anything happen to them. And she didn't need telling twice. Her exhausted body fell asleep instantly, her hand on the infant's tummy like she needed reassurance he was still there with her.

[unlockthelore]

Experience

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 幽☆遊☆白書 | YuYu Hakusho: Ghost Files Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Hiei/Kurama | Minamino Shuuichi Characters: Hiei (YuYu Hakusho), Kurama | Minamino Shuuichi Additional Tags: Developing Relationship, During Canon, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Banter, Attempt at Humor Series: Part 8 of Growing Pains Summary: Meeting the most important person in Kurama's life leads to one of the most rewarding experiences of Hiei's.

It all started with an innocent question. Lounging on Kurama’s window sill as the fox had dinner with his mother downstairs, the sound of their laughter and talking mingling with the singing cicadas and gentle tick of the clock on the wall. Hiei’s back leant against the wall as he stared out the window, half-listening to the conversation but lost in thought. Shiori Minamino was off limits not only in this game that he and Kurama played but to any demon hoping for a chance to devour human prey. More than once, Kurama asked that if Hiei had to make the choice, then his mother’s life should be prioritized if their partnership was to stand. It wasn’t a difficult request or an entirely unreasonable one. While the fox was in his human vessel, his mother was a provider and a caretaker, he relied on her for certain things due to the age of his vessel and thus she was necessary to his survival.

However, it was curious. The legends of Youko Kurama didn’t speak of a benevolent being that would prioritize the life of a single human woman. What was it that set this Shiori Minamino apart from the scores of people that fell prey to the fox’s hand?

Hiei’s first thought was nothing — but then again, he’d only seen her at a glance, from a distance or through the Jagan. Her voice and her words were never directed at him and he couldn’t assess her personality through Kurama’s clear bias of her kindness. The way that he described her was a veritable saint and Hiei had his doubts.

The fire demon’s ears twitched at the sound of the doorknob turning but a quick sniff and a glance aside told him that the intruder to his quiet musings was a familiar one. Kurama stepped into the room with a bowl in his hand, rising steam billowed from it’s contents and a pair of chopsticks rested on across the rim of it. Hiei tilted his head as Kurama approached him and extended the bowl with a patient smile. Peering inside of it, a rice dish with bits of vegetables and meat greeted him. With a hint of spice that singed his nose and a strange sweetness that drew him closer, he glanced from it to Kurama skeptically.

“Aren’t you going to take it?”

“Isn’t it yours?”

He’d grown to understand that there was a limit to what he could and couldn’t touch of Kurama’s. The fox had rules and he loathed to break them. This seemed like an easy rule to follow: don’t steal Kurama’s food.

“Mother made it for you, so here.” Kurama held the bowl up a bit higher and Hiei’s eyes followed it, transfixed on the steam. Out the corner of his eye, he could see the fox smiling but Kurama wisely said nothing about Hiei’s single-minded focus on the bowl’s contents as he set it down across from him on the sill.

With that, the fox turned on his heel and began to make his way across the room.

“Why?”

Kurama’s movements halted but Hiei didn’t look up at him. He was too busy trying to decipher the meaning behind this gesture.

“I told my mother that I had a friend who was in a precarious situation, and she insisted that I bring you that should I see you tomorrow,” Kurama explained with carefully chosen words that made his voice flow and ebb like the tide. It was calming but also disarming which beget danger and skepticism in Hiei’s mind. Eyes flicking up to meet Kurama’s, Hiei said nothing but his silence made the fox’s smile falter.

“We had the same dish for dinner, Hiei, it isn’t poisoned.”

“It isn’t that.”

Kurama tilted his head to one side, a silent question of ‘what is it’ posed, and Hiei glanced away. His answer being ‘I don’t know’. He wasn’t sure how to assess this gesture. True, it wasn’t the first time that someone had offered him food but it was the first time that it was done without some sort of string attached and from someone that he wasn’t entirely involved with.

“She has no reason to care whether or not I eat.”

“You’ll come to find that with my mother, it doesn’t matter to her, if she could find a way to solve world hunger — I’m sure that she would.”

Hiei huffed and picked up the chopsticks, hesitating before he poked at the meat then the rice. A few seconds of moving vegetables and the like around, giving them a light sniff before moving it away and onto the next. Kurama said nothing while he examined the contents but Hiei could feel his weighty gaze on his person. The fire demon picked up a piece of meat and looked it over before opening his mouth and eating it hurriedly before his mind could convulse with repulsion. After a few chews, his eyes widened. The meat was tender, juicy and the spiciness accompanied by the sweetness had a hint of saltiness to it. It wasn’t bitter but it was different and Hiei dug in to find another piece, putting it with the vegetables and delighting in the crunch. After a few hearty bites, the bowl was half gone and Hiei was chewing happily.

“I’m guessing that you like it.”

Pausing in mid-chew, Hiei glanced aside. Kurama sitting at the foot of his bed with his chin resting in hand. Green eyes glimmered with mischief and Hiei’s face fell. The chopsticks pressed to his lips as he chewed, he glanced away from Kurama to the food.

“It is passable.”

No, those words didn’t do it justice in the slightest. He’d cooked his own meals more than once when he lived on his own and even part of the bandit outfit he’d grown up in. The taste never mattered to him as long as his body had fuel to keep going. Taking the time to season and savor his food could result in death. Sentimental fools were the ones who expressed care for even what they ate. As long as it was not poisonous or putrid, it was edible.

“Does your mother cook like this every night?”

Kurama shrugged. “It depends on how tired she is from work, but she even insists on those days.”

“Sounds like someone else I know.”

A half-hearted glare shot his way was dutifully ignored as he picked up another bit of rice, vegetables and meat to distract himself with. War with himself was never fun. It always was a roundabout that left him tired and far more confused than before. However, crossed between wanting to act on his idea and stay where he was, Reason told him that it would give him an opportunity to understand this Shiori Minamino but practicality told him that staying within the shadows would keep him alive.

“You’re thinking loudly, Hiei.” Kurama’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, his tone curious and soft, but with that teasing edge that Hiei despised.

Hiei set down his chopsticks and rested his hands in his lap. “Answer a question for me, Kurama.”

“Of course, what is it?”

“Why is Minamino Shiori so important to you?”

For a moment, Kurama said nothing. A million emotions swept through his eyes, eyes that were too knowing for their own good, and yet guarded in a way that yielded no answer to Hiei but only questions. He’d heard Shiori tell the fox that eyes were the window to the soul. Yet the soul that Kurama possessed were shuttered behind blinds deceiving of their true nature. It was difficult to look away from him when he looked like that. Intense and yet gentle, a fox among sheep.

“If you meet her,” Kurama carefully intones, a smile easing its way onto his face. “Then you’ll understand.”

That vague answer is what led Hiei here. They’d made a plan, corroborated their stories, and put it into motion. Kurama leading the way one afternoon after he’d returned home from school with Hiei following behind him dressed in human clothing. His bandana was a non-negotiable part of his human disguise. With his growing mastery over the Jagan, they both deemed it important that the evil eye wasn’t mistakenly activated. Risking Shiori was something that Kurama would never do and Hiei loathed mistakes.

“Mother, I’m home!” Kurama called from the entry hall.

Hiei shut the door behind them and took to the task of removing his boots, setting them beside Kurama’s shoes.

“Welcome back, Shuuichi! How was school?!” Shiori called from further inside, likely the kitchen from the way that her voice echoed, and the bubbling of boiling water filled the air.

Shuuichi. Hiei glanced aside at Kurama as he talked his mother, distracted by telling her of his day. The junior high student that nearly bested him in his wounded state, the one who claimed to be the Legendary King of Thieves, and the son of a human woman. It was almost laughable but from the easy smile that brightened Kurama’s eyes and the coaxing wave that he gave Hiei to have him follow, Hiei found it harder to laugh. The fox had been excited for most of the day. Far more restless than usual, fidgeting even, but his smiles were warmer and whenever he looked Hiei’s way — the fire demon found it hard to breathe.

Staring at Kurama’s back, Hiei sighed. It was all too curious. And far too late to turn back.

“Shuuichi, I was thinking that we could make cake —“ Shiori’s voice trailed off abruptly as her eyes met Hiei, smile faltering.

Hiei tilted his head and looked her over. She appeared young with dark hair slipping down her back and over her shoulders, framing her face and warm brown eyes. Her features were similar to Kurama’s in the sense that they both seemed soft and kind. Shiori’s eyes weren’t as intense as Kurama’s but they held a weight of their own, just as guarded, but with a warmth that was distracting rather than overwhelming. Her lips pressed together and she tilted her head to one side. A motion that Hiei knew well.

“Mother, this is my friend, Hiei,” Kurama said, gesturing to Hiei with a tilt of the head and a polite smile.

Hiei could practically feel the waves of nervous anticipation drifting off of him but kept his expression neutral, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans.

“Sorry for the intrusion.”

Shiori blinked at him and Hiei knew that if his heart beat like a normal human’s, it might have skipped. What was she thinking? What was she going to do? What did he want her to do?

“Your eyes,” she said softly. Hiei stared at her confused, his face scrunched. “They’re beautiful.”

His eyes widened and she laughed softly.

“I’m sorry, how rude of me. I’m Minamino Shiori, Shuuichi’s mother, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Hiei. Shuuichi doesn’t bring home friends of—“

“You think my eyes are beautiful?”

The interruption startled not only Shiori but Kurama, the fox looking at him with a curious expression but Hiei’s eyes were on her. Shiori seemed to think his words over, turn them in her mind, and her gaze drifted from head to toe. Hiei wasn’t sure how he felt being appraised like this but whatever Shiori found, she must have made up her mind. Standing at her full height, she nodded with a softness to her eyes.

“I do, you’re a very handsome young man.”

Hiei’s lips parted then pressed together. His face felt warmer and he ducked his head, looking away from her.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?”

Hiei’s head jerked up, eyes wide and he knew that he was caught when the interest showed on his face. Shiori’s eyes sparkled and that look he knew well. It was without the mischief that often came with Kurama but it was still the same. Glancing aside at the fox, Kurama seemed to be interested in the cupboards. Hiei’s eyes narrowed. He must have told her about how much he liked the food she set aside for him.

“…That would be nice.” Turning his head away, Hiei glared at nothing in particular.

A gentle yet heavy weight settled on top of his head and his heart leapt into his throat. Three little pats to the top of his head and from beneath Shiori’s hand, he could barely see her face but he knew that she was smiling.

“It’ll be ready in an hour. Shuuichi, we’ll see about making that cake, okay?”

Kurama nodded, mirroring her smile with one of his own. “Alright mother, do you need any help?”

“No, no, I’ll be fine.”

With that, she turned on her heel and lifted her hand from Hiei’s head. Without the weight, it almost felt empty and he wasn’t sure of what to make of the way that his eyes lingered on her back even as Kurama nudged him to follow. When he didn’t budge, the fox held him by the back of his t-shirt and practically dragged him to and up the staircase.

“Well that went better than I thought,” Kurama said, clapping his hands together. “You reacted well to mother’s touchiness, I’m glad that you didn’t threaten h—“

“I liked it.”

Kurama turned to look at him as they reached his door, standing outside it, their voices low but with the sounds of pots and pans from downstairs Hiei doubted Shiori could hear them.

“You liked it?”

“Her compliments, her touch, they were genuine…”

Almost overwhelming. It was as if she knew but she said nothing. Not in a way to withhold information or to tease or to have the upper hand but simply out of kindness.

“She’s a good soul, Hiei.”

That was plain for anyone to see but he couldn’t be sure. He told himself that there was a flaw somewhere. A chink in the armor that was Shiori Minamino. However, she made it hard for him to want to see it. That night as they sat at the table, full from the meal she’d made, Hiei helping to gather the dishes — she turned to him just as Kurama began to sip his tea.

“Hiei, you can come over any time that you like.”

He paused in movement and Kurama’s eyes opened wide from behind the rim of his tea cup. Shiori’s elbows resting on the table, her chin on the bridge of her fingers, she seemed to be weighing her words before she spoke with a soft assurance.

“It’s only Shuuichi and I here, and I wouldn’t mind if you’d like to stay over if you have nowhere else to go.” Her words are carefully chosen but each one pricks and squeezes and warms Hiei’s heart. It’s harder to breathe when she looks at him like that. Soft around the edges but with an assured confidence that gave choice rather than ultimatum.

“I hope that you can come to think of us as family.”

With that, she turned toward Kurama and the spell that she cast on Hiei was broken. The fire demon easing his hold on the dishes that he hold so he wouldn’t crack them.

“Is that alright with you, Shuuichi? He is your friend.”

Put on the spot, Kurama performed effortlessly. Though Hiei wasn’t sure what to do with that small genuine smile that Kurama gave him. Was it a performance or something else?

Dangerous.

The both of them were dangerous.

“Yes, that would be lovely, mother.”

Shiori nodded in agreement and the two of them turned the full weight of their gaze on Hiei. The fire demon was never one to duck away from a challenge but he found himself looking away.

“…I’ll think about it,” he grumbled, heading into the kitchen with the dishes collected. Away from them, he couldn’t help but smile himself.

They were dangerous.

But someone like her and someone like Kurama was too good for this world. From now on, he’d have to protect them as well.

[gromvillage]

all odd numbers. do it coward

jesus fucking christ i love you

1. Who was the last person you held hands with?

probably one of my friends when we went to the mall the day before homecoming?? it was a while ago

3. Who are you looking forward to seeing?

i can’t wait to see my cousin again but i also have this one really cool uncle that i’d like to see again. actually i’d like to see a lot of my family cause they live far away but i don’t know when i’ll see them next

5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you?

i never want to be drunk but i think they definitely would 

7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now?

i’d like to say yes because i’m a thirsty bitch but the answer is prolly no

9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?

negative ghostrider, my friends are tired of hearing me talk about me being thirsty

11. What does the most recent text that you sent say? 

me yelling at my friends about how i want to be on bear grylls’ show, cause i think him and i would have a great time hanging out

13. Do you like it when people play with your hair?

oh hell yeah, my friends got acrylics a couple months ago and i was literally begging them to play with my hair and scratch my head

15. What good thing happened this summer?

lots of good things happened this summer! i went to scout camp, went to washington/canada with some friends, and went to europe for the first time!!   

17. Do you think there is life on other planets?

i’d like to think so! but also,,,,i think it’s probably not like little green dudes sadly, prolly just like microscopic shit that happens to be alive

19. Do you like bubble baths?

i haven’t taken a bath since i was really young, the idea of sitting in your own water is gross

21. What are you bad habits?

oh lots...picking the skin around my nails, i can be really lazy, not tidying up my room as often as i should which then makes me feel weird, the list can go on and on

23. Do you have trust issues?

oh you bet baby, i don’t really have reason to cause no one has done anything absolutely horrible to me (yet) but i am constantly questioning the intents of the people i’m close to

25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with?

my face but also the fact i have no thighs and my arms are super scrawny 

27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker?

darker, i have such a hard time tanning and i’m high key pale

29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up?

h a h a have to have been in a relationship to have has an ex 

31. If your hair long enough for a pony tail?

yeah one tiny one on the top of my head

33. Spell your name with your chin.

paigved

35. Would you rather live without TV or music?

ohhh tough...probably tv though cause i stay listening to music all the time

37. What do you say during awkward silences?

hi welcome to chili’s

39. What are your favorite stores to shop in?

rei or any outdoor store really, small independent stationary shops, target kinda slaps, really any little shop that’s along the main street of a smaller town

41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?

negative ghostrider

43. Do you smile at strangers?

not really, i’m super self conscious about my teeth and also think i look kinda creepy when i do it

45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning?

the fact i have to go to school sadly but my goal is to one day get out of bed and be excited to do a job i love

47. Have you ever been high?

negative ghostrider, that kinda shit freaks me out

49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?

yeah there’s a couple things

51. Ever wished you were someone else?

all the time, i stay wishing i was an olympic skier or pro mountain athlete or literally anyone more interesting than me

53. Favourite makeup brand?

i don’t wear makeup!

55. Favourite blog?

@friendlydinosaur of course but also big fan of @perpetualpatchwork and a bunch of bon appetit blogs

57. Favourite food?

bread/pasta/sweets

59. First thing you ate this morning?

really lame breakfast sandwich thing on a piece of toast with cream cheese and lunch meat cause i’m lazy

61. Been suspended/expelled? For what?

no but i kinda wish, i have too much of a fear of authority/my parents

63. Ever been in love?

not yet

65. Are you hungry right now?

not super hungry but i could go for some ice cream

67. Facebook or Twitter?

twitter, i’m not a 40 year old lady jesus christ

69. Are you watching tv right now?

nope

71. Craving something? What?

someone to hold me but also really wanna go skiing or on an adventure in general

73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals?

that’s gonna be a no

75. Favourite animal?

ohhh i stay being a closet horse girl but also think elk are pretty cool! also just generally love dogs

77. Chocolate or Vanilla?

chocolate (but vanilla if it’s the really good shit)

79. What colour shirt are you wearing?

maroon! i stay wearing this color all the time

81. Favourite tv show?

i still haven’t finished turn but i do like it a lot! also i just think i finished watching something on netflix but i can’t remember what?? but i feel like i liked it?? thinking is hard

83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2?

never seen either sadly

85. Favourite character from Mean Girls?

see above

87. First person you talked to today?

my mom

89. Name a person you hate?

there are a couple but i’m not bouta drag em on tumblr

91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now? 

oh i could come up with a few people....

93. How many sweatpants do you have?

sadly only two pairs but i want more

95. Last movie you watched?

part of ratatouille with this girl that’s kinda like a little cousin to me

97. Favourite actor?

i don’t really have a favorite but i’m big on timothee chalamet at the moment

99. Have any pets?

a sickly beta fish i inherited from my brother when he moved

101. Do you type fast?

i’d like to think so

103. Can you spell well?

oh hell no

105. Ever been to a bonfire party?

a couple, though none recently sadly 

107. Have you ever been on a horse?

a few times!! again, closet horse girl

109. Is something irritating you right now?

the fact i’ve left some major work till the last minute, this one really painful pimple on my face, the way i stay wasting my time

111. Do you have trust issues?

this is a repeat from 23?? but the answer is still yes

113. What was your childhood nickname?

paigey, but a lot of people still use it! also foo foo the snoo was something my mom called me as kind of an inside joke rhyme thing

115. Do you play the Wii?

not anymore, though i was big on wii sports resort and the wipeout game when i was younger. oh also the lego harry potter, cause i liked to collect all the coins while my brother did the Actual Gaming for the levels

117. Do you like chicken noodle soup?

not really, the noodles are always super mushy and i just don’t really like the flavor

119. Favourite book?

i sadly haven’t been reading a ton lately and have forgotten literally every book i’ve ever read but i really enjoyed on jon krakauer’s  eiger dreams that i read this summer

121. Are you mean?

sometimes, yeah

123. Can you keep white shoes clean?

i kept a pair of white slip on vans pretty clean for a while! the trick is to use scotch guard

125. Do you believe in true love?

i haven’t thought about it a lot but i guess? 

127. What makes you happy?

oh lots of things! nice weather, spending time outdoors, good food, time with good friends, ice cream, exploring, creating things

129. What your zodiac sign?

sagittarius (almost my birthday!!)

131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

now that i think about it i don’t think i have a best guy friend?? but if i did i guess if i didn’t like them i’d try and be nice about it cause i’ve had a crush on close friends and know it sucks when they don’t feel the same way

133. Favourite lyrics right now?

“but if i get my shit together this year maybe i’ll be a ten” -10/10 by rex orange county

135. Dumbest lie you ever told?

oh i’m sure i told some dumb lies when i was a kid but i can’t remember any right now

137. How tall are you?

barely 5′1″

139. Brunette or Blonde?

brunette

141. Night or Day?

depends on the mood

143. Are you a vegetarian?

i really should be for the earth but meat bruh

145. Tea or Coffee?

i don’t drink either!

147. Mars or Snickers?

snickers

149. Do you believe in ghosts?

not really but the other night i woke up to my waterbottle falling off my nightstand and that was some freaky shit

love you dude, i really needed this tonight

[hungergames-fanfic]

The Reapings

Word Count: 2606

Today is reaping day. A boy and a girl will be chosen at the Plaza, in front of all of Panem, and be put to fight for their lives in an arena. The winner will bring riches and fame back home, or so that’s what president Snow says on the propaganda commercials. District 10 hasn’t had a victor in over a decade.

For the 4th Annual Hunger Games, daddy’s uncle Amos was chosen as a tribute, cause people still weren’t used to the idea of the games there were riots on the street. A lot people died in my family leaving only momma Bilmin and daddy alive, daddy was a newborn. My best friend Efrain’s daddy, who was just a little boy himself got shot but survived, a story Efrain loves to tell. While all of this happened, the government still took uncle Amos, who was sixteen at the time. Being all alone, mourning the death of her husband and family, momma Bilmin was forced to watch uncle Amos survive the games. He killed the most tributes, a goal some careers claim to wanna surpass, or so Efrain says they say, and came back home as that year’s victor.

With his wealth, uncle Amos bought miles of land and divided it into two with a road seven miles long making it a detour from Bloques, where the poor live, where momma Bilmin and daddy are from, to Littleburg, where the heart of District 10 sits. Here live the rich, where momma and her family is from, shopping centers, hospitals, the Mayoral building and more are located. Uncle Amos also purchased cattle, daddy says back then they only had two of every animal. Cows, goats, chickens, horses, pigs and even sheep, but we don’t have sheep no more. He also built momma Bilmin a pretty house on the land and then years later, before I was born, he killed himself.

No one talks about uncle Amos or watches the games at our house cause it makes momma Bilmin cry a lot. So much so that last night I could hear her from my room, so I spent the night with her. She hugged me until we fell asleep. This morning I woke up to the smell of a thousand types of food.

Cause momma Bilmin knows what it’s like to go to bed hungry, with our money, she cooks big pots of food and feeds those who flock to us. Usually, on the mornings she’ll hand out her famous honey walnut bread to those who walk past our road, but on reaping day, she cooks a grand meal. This year she’s baked bread and a cinnamon version of it, two types of rice, an orange one with tomato and basil that’s a little spicy and a yellow one, which is my favotire cause it has eggs, vegetables and beef, but I’m not eating meat no more. Not after I seen where it comes from. Momma Bilmin also cooked a big pot of beans with bacon and sausage a long with another pot of mashed potatoes and cheese. Enough to feed up to a thousand people or more if portioned correctly.

Cause momma is Mayor Sotto’s secretary, she’s all about appearance. Today she wears an elegant dark blue pantsuit. It makes her look so pretty daddy wont stop hugging and kissing her. She tells him to stop with a smile on her face and makes him wear a tanned suit, threatning with “you ain’t gettin’ any honey” if he wears his cowboy hat. Daddy takes it off so fast it makes me laugh. I watch them from the mirror, where I stand and stare at myself while momma does my hair.

Momma’s made me wear a pink dress with itchy white socks and shiny white shoes I only use when I wear dresses like this. She makes a braid from the top of my head to the back, turning it into a low pony tail and adds a big bow to it. I hate the way I look. Can’t even go out to play when I’m dressed like this. I stare at my reflection wishing I could dress myself. I wonder what i’d chose if I were allowed. Then again, i’m only ten years old and can’t take a bath without supervision.

“Oh, my Dora you look so precious”, momma says kissing my cheeks. I don’t think I look like her, her skin is lighter than mines, but I do have curly hair. The curls aren’t as coily as hers though, just a little thicker in shape. I don’t look like daddy or momma Bilmin either, daddy is too dark skinned and his hair is straight, he looks like momma Bilmin but her skin is as brown as mines. Her hair is just as straight as his, too.

“Miss Esperanza”, Vano, Efrain’s cousin, knocks on the door frame. He clears his throat and takes off his hat showing off the waves on his hair. Unlike most days, him and Eddy, Efrain’s older brother, are dressed presentable and clean, that’s cause they’re both still eligible to be a part of the reapings. “We ready to go”, he says.

The reapings don’t start until one in the afternoon, but cause momma needs to be at work early, momma Bilmin will be feeding people and the boys have to sign up, we’re leaving early. Daddy’s gonna stay behind though, says last year someone stole a couple of chickens while we was in Littleburg.

The ride to the Plaza is boring and takes a lot longer than usual. The roads and highways are packed with new and old vehicles, run down wagons that look like they gon lose a wheel on a bump and horses carrying up to three people. Everyone wants to get there before noon since the peacekeepers are a lot more abundant and meaner on this day. Sometimes they break into homes in search for those that haven’t left yet and beat them out on the streets as a warning for others to hurry up. At one point, on the road we see a man getting frisked while his wife screams at peacekeepers tryna hold her back. This day is stressful as it is, peacekeepers always make things worse.

When we arrive to the Plaza, momma gives me a kiss on the cheek before leaving. She always asks if I wanna go inside the Mayoral Building with her cause there’s air conditioning but I like to stay with momma Bilmin, she doesn’t tell me to shush and sit every five seconds.

Left with just her while the boys go and sign up, I make sure to keep momma Bilmin safe. There’s always somebody ungreatful. Next to our wagon, people form a long line on the sidewalk waiting to be handed a plate of food, I help hand forks.

“Ain’t that some shit, Bilmin!”, an old man stands a few feet away eating some of the bread she’s made. “The youngin’ look just like’em”, he laughs. Momma Bilmin doesn’t look at him, she clears her throat and nods. I’ve seen this look on her before, she wants to cry. Mad at him, I scream “go away!”, he just laughs. “Same attitude too!”, he blurts outs in a laugh that turns into a gross cough.

“Come on, John, move along”, another old man says. A plate in one hand, pulling on the gross old man’s shirt with the other.

“Hey, I lost my Isabella to the games too, we’ve all lost family. You ain’t seen us cryin’ when they names be mentioned. Besides, all I said was the little girl look like Amos”, he goes on but the other man pulls him away. Too late, though. The damage has already been done and momma Bilmin has tears rolling down her face. Is that why momma Bilmin cries when she looks at me? Cause I look like her baby brother?

“When I get bigger I’m gonna beat him up”, I tell her whilst giving her a tight hug. I hate it when she cries. It’s not fair cause she doesn’t deserve to be sad.

She smiles at me, gives me a kiss on the forehead and stares for a little too long before her upper lip starts to quiver and more tears roll down her face. This happens a lot around this time, too. It just takes one look and I make her cry. I wish I could change my face. “Please don’t cry momma, I’m sorry”, I apologize wishing I could stop making her so sad. She rubs my back, wipes her tears and keeps on feeding everyone.

People come and go, they wish us blessings, some cry with thanks and others give us little gifts like handmade jewelry, pretty clothes or micellaneous items. None get my attention like this one though, it forms a big smile on my face the second I spot it. Like a trade, a woman hands momma Bilmin a black, fluffy puppy. “Issa boy, gon grow real big, Geller keepin’ the momma and she real good at guardin’ the house”, she informs. “Polomir need himself a guard dog, been hearin’ ’bout a lot of coyote attacks lately. If anythin’ it’ll eat it and not y’all’s cattle”, she chuckles. Momma Bilmin laughs and denies the pup but the lady wont take it back. She giggles when I beg to please keep it. “Listen to the baby, Bilmin, don’t deny me my gift to you”, “oh, alright, fine. Just don’t let’em near the pots of food”, momma Bilmin snaps a me.

By noon, through intercoms placed in every corner, poles, buildings and trees, we hear Mayor Sotto ask those eligible for the reapings that they have an hour to sign up. This makes a lot of teenagers scatter towards the Plaza, only a block away from where we’re stationed.

In the distance, on my skittish horse, Milk, I spot daddy galloping through the crowded road tryna get to us. Excited to show him the puppy, I hold it in the air and jump.

“Hey Isa!”, I hear an old familiar voice, “that your dog?”, Efrain asks. Seeing him walk towards me with his family makes me so happy I almost fall off the wagon but Jenae, his aunt gently pushes me back. “Careful, Isadora”, she warns helping Efrain and Abie up here with me. Compared to the last time I saw him, pale and near death, skinny and weak, he looks a lot better. “Been back outside playin’ with everyone on the block, Wendy was askin’ ‘bout you and Arielle. Says y’all ain’t go to school yesterday”, he says almost like he’s asking why. I wave my hand in the air, showing off my now dirty yellow cast, I don’t give him the same “it hurts” lie I give momma. I don’t wanna lie to him, so I let him assume on his own. Besides, I don’t wanna tell him about Ari and me not being friends no more. Instead I show him my new puppy, who I’ve named Bean cause he ate all the beans that spilled out the bean pot.

The name makes Efrain laugh. “I’d name him Edwin cause that boy’s hair just as shaggy”, he says. This makes me laugh cause it’s true.

Just like me, Efrain is dressed his very best. Although his clothes are too big for him and practically sun bleached, comapred to the rest of his hand-me-downs, he looks sharp. His curly hair has been bathed in oil making it look wet and shinny, his big gray buttoned long sleeve has been tucked into his brown pants held by red suspenders. His cousin Abie, who’s a year younger than us, wears a gray buttoned up long sleeve too, on her waist she wears a red belt that matches Efrain’s suspenders. Her curls, a lot finer than his, are also oily and shinny in the sun, slicked back with her baby hairs forming waves on her forehead. “Momma thought it be cute if we dressed the same”, Efrain says.

“I look cute”, she snaps, “you look like you need more sun”, she rolls her eyes. Her momma pinches her shoulder. Efrain chuckles.

Next to the wagon, on the street, Efrain’s daddy and momma, who came in her wheelchair cause people gotta be literally dying for them to be allowed to stay home, linger whilst talking to daddy who looks very uncomfortable. While her husband Otto helps momma Bilmin hand out plates of food, Jenae laughs and constantly puts her hand on daddy’s arm.

On top of the Mayoral Building sits a large television screen, it turns on to show a blue image. It slightly rocks back and forth but doesn’t fall. In patterns, all the other televisions around the area start to turn on too. The one above a one-floor shop turns on to show the same blue, another standing on a pole at the corner of the street turns on to show blurry images that turn clear. On the side of a big, wide complex building, a holographic image shows the same, from this one, I watch. On it, Mayor Sotto waddles up to the microphone. He’s short, balding and wears a suit too big for his own good. Behind him stands momma looking ever so pretty. Next to her is Tate Langdon, our only victor. He wears a black suit jacket and jeans with a black cowboy hat that matches. Next to him stands Jai Ngyuen. He’s from the Capitol and wears an all white suit that makes him shine bright. His hair and eyebrows are just as white along with his make up. “Goddamn clown”, I overhear Otto say under his voice.

Clearing his voice, Mayor Sotto begins. He dictates the same story from every year, I recognize it cause its one we read in our history books at school. He explains how Panem came to be, mentions the dark days, uprisings against the Capitol, District 13’s obliteration and the start of the Annual Hunger Games. The camera zooms in on Tate, who the mayor mentions as one of our victors along with “and may he rest in power, Amos Wyetka”, he reminds us of uncle Amos like he does every year. Through the crowd blinded by the sun, the camera goes on and on as if showing off our thousands of possible tributes. Once the mayor is done talking, he wipes the sweat off his shinny bald head with a hankerchief and stands next to momma. I glare at daddy who has a smirk on his face while watching the screen.

“Happy Hunger Games!”, Jai’s shrill voice makes the microphone screech. “And may the odds be ever in your favor”, he shakes his head and raises his arms excitedly. Giggling, fixing his tie, he smiles wide showing his perfect teeth. People in the crowded streets look at each other, some shake their head, others murmur to one another. Daddy turns to look at Efrain’s dad and both chuckle nodding their heads.

On stage, Jai walks over to a glass ball containing the male names. Like every year, he plays shuffling the papers, taking a lot longer than he should. Raising his hand in the air to show the folded piece of paper, two more fly out and fall to the ground. He picks them up, dances with and spreads them in his hands, choosing the middle note. Excitedly he practically skips back to the mic and opens it. Clearing his throat dramatically, he calls out the name of this year’s male tribute.

“Eduardo Oxoro”, Efrian’s oldest brother.

[burtatethebees]

January4, 2020

Happy New Year!

I spent news years with my sister in her trailer in the woods with her friends from Conserve, Ian, Cecelia, Eli, and Chris. Ian is really funny and kinda hot. In my Smart Brain, I know that this is the typical period in a friendship with a guy where I’m infatuated with them, but my Stupid Brain says he would hold me very good. 

We went into downtown Athens on the first day of three. We played Ultimate frisbee in a historic field at UGA. I ran a lot, which was a really bad idea cause I’m really fragile. I was sore in my hip for the rest of the night and my while legs for the rest of the weeks. Ian and Eli took their shirts off to play, who knows why truely, but it was a little hot. Eli is kinda Thicc and not my type, but Ian is My Type. He’s my heightish, a little bit taller, so like 5′ 7-8″. He’s got abs and is just all around Lean and Strong. His veins on his arms are really nice. I don’t know why that's hot to so many girls, but I’m not complaining about it. 

Yeah but later that night we left the field and walked around downtown. We were gonna get Ian to pretend to be a psychic and get some money, but Jay shoved the sign in a little garden for us to get later and we never went back. We went into a cool boutique/junk store. I was browsing and Jay almost left me there, like if I hadn’t heard her say to the clerk that it was good to see them again I wouldn’t have noticed they left the building. We went to Waffle House, but I couldn't finish my food so I gave it to Ian. The lady working there was sassy. We met up with Shazam, as mom calls him, after Waffle house. We walked around some more and then Jay asked Shazam if he was parked at a meter or free parking, so we had to go check. The whole group kinda separated on accident. Ian and Chris ran off to slide down some rails. Eli and I went off to go with them, and Jay, Cecelia, and Shazam went to go find his truck. Ian and Chris saw that Jay was leaving and decided to run away after the rest of the group. Eli and I chased after them but we lost them cause they probably pulled some spiderman move and were jumping across rooftops or something. So Eli and I got lost. We went back to the Waffle house cause that's kinda the direction they were going to get to Shazam’s truck. 

We went back to the field after we moved Shazam’s truck to free parking. We played some more frisbee. Jay ran into Ian trying to catch the frisbee and got a bloody nose. She couldn’t drive so when we left Chris drove the minivan back home. Eli and Ian were gonna come with us, but they decided to walk home, like weirdos. It took them like an hour and a half. Chris accidentally drove the whole four miles with the parking brake on, totally fucking up the brake in the process. At one point he asked “why is the brake light on?” but my brain didn't process what that meant and so I didn't say anything. He doesn’t use the parking brake on his car so he didn’t know what it meant. 

When we got home, we went into the camper and Jay gave Shazam his Christmas present. He got a Llama Popper which shot foam ball out of a llama mouth. We killed time until Eli and Ian got back.

We hung out around the fire that Jay built. I sat on a wool blanket next to Ian. I wish that I knew them better so I could have sat closer and perhaps, maybe, cuddled a little. He did with Chris and Eli. We went into the camper after a little bit to watch movies. We watched Shameless, which I was really not into. We lied on the floor on the camper, I WAS between Cecelia and Ian but Jay cut in and told Ian to move over. Lame ass, cockblock lol. I left after a little bit and sat in my tent for a bit. I came back and just kinda chilled on my phone until the countdown for New Years. We went outside for the countdown. We were all huddled cause it was Very cold. I stood next to Ian. My Stupid Brain wanted to kiss him. 

We went back inside and watched Love, Death, and Robots. I watched it all but I’m not into it. It was really gory and there was a lot of animated dicks. Ian likes the show. When it was 2 am I went back out to my tent to go to sleep. I had to spend like five minutes combing my hair because it got so tangled from the hat I was wearing that day. I went to sleep and had a dream vaguely about love.

The next morning I woke up at 8. I was the only one up in the main area. Shazam was up and came done a little after I woke up. I helped him build a fire. When the rest woke up we fucked around killing time for a few hours. Ian made tea in a wine bottle on the open fire. Ian, Chris, Eli, and Shazam had a wood-splitting contest. Ian kept putting random shit in the fire. Cecelia and I hung out in Chris’ hammock. We eventually went back into town and got nachos. This was the beginning of a shitshow. I put in 5$ for the nachos since Jay got one with chicken and no pepper or onions for me. I went to the bathroom cause there aren't any real ones at her camper. When I got back nearly all the nachos were gone. The boys had vacuumed them up in like 5 minutes. I was hungry but too much of a pussy to get up and order my own taco. Now, in retrospect, I have NO IDEA why I didn’t. So I condemned myself to be hungry for like five hours. We left the taco stand and wandered around Athens for a while. We went to a construction site. We lost Cecelia and none of the others seemed to be worried about her. They finally realized what could have happened to her like half an hour later so we went to go find her. We found her at a Subway. 

Ian needed a suitcase so we went to a thrift store. I finally got some flannels, but I was still pissed so I didn’t really talk to the rest of the group for a while. I told Jay how I felt and she told me “too bad”. So that sucked. I bought my flannels and we left. We went to a Graveyard and I stormed off but decided I didn’t want to get lost so I went back. We used Ian’s spirit box to talk to some ghosts. We tried in two different locations. They were really active in the second place. I don't know who we were talking to, but I was nice cause I got to sit really close to Ian so I could hear the box. After we were done, we lied down in the leaves by the grave we were sitting next to. The group, excluding me, all pile on each other, but I felt like I didn’t know them well enough to do that. I lied perpendicular to Ian with my head on his chest/arm, which was Very Nice. We listen to a true-crime podcast, but we had to stop cause there were footsteps and Cecelia and I got spooked. It turned out to be a deer, but we left soon after. 

We went dumpster-diving. We drove around a plaza cause Jay wanted to find Michael’s. They stopped at the Starbuck and got bounced to go get me some food finally. I got Willy’s. I shouldn’t have gotten the adobe chicken, I normally do, but this location was much spicier. While I was eating Ian pulled up and adventure AI. Eli chose the options and Ian read them. He was a mental patient and summoned some demons, burned to death, met god, and woke up. He ate the toes of some lady and then ate her whole body. Then the story ended. 

We went back home. We sat around the fire at the Kitchen Pavilion and listened to Podcasts. We listened to something Eli had about getting kidnapped into a meat factory, it was really funny, and Welcome To Nightvale. Then we all kinda drifted off back to camp and fell asleep.

I woke up early again the next day. The ground was wet so I didn’t want to sit down, so I just stood and zoned out stared at the trees. I went back to my tent cause I was kinda cold, but Ian and Cecelia woke up right after so I came back out. Ian told me he saw me kinda just staring at the trees, which means he was watching me at least a little from the camper. They sat in Chris’ hammock under the rainfly. It looked like and leaf. Ian told me to tell him a deep, dark secret like it was a confessional. I instantly went to “I think you’re hot as hell.” but I didn’t say that, obviously. So I told them that I think Angie is gonna drop me in the new year. I complained about the color guard at school and told them how the Horticulture club is gonna try to take over another club. I had a lot of fun talking to them, but then Jay woke up. We fucked around for a while and then got stuff together to leave. We packed into the car and left. At this point, it was just me, Jay, Chris, Ian, and Cecelia. We went to Brent’s house. On the way there they talked about stuff they did at conserve. They took the BDSM test I guess, so Ian asked Jay What she got. Chris was top 2, dom and sadist, which he doesn't look like at all, but it’s always the ones you don’t suspect. Ian didn’t say, I wish he had. I took it in the car while they were talking. I got Brat and primal (prey) as my top two. I REALLY wish Ian had said what he got. 

 I am not a big fan of being at Brent’s place since it was my Grandpa’s house. Brent is changing everything and he got two roommates. The whole house smells like cigs. The art is different. So I started tearing up almost as soon as we got there. It was the first time I had been back there since we came to get furniture, and only the 2nd time I had been there after Grandpa died. I started texting my mom about how I was sad. She called me and I went outside and cried to her. I hung up and composed myself enough to come back inside. Mom called Jay and told her how I felt. I was gonna try to catch Jay before she came back inside so I could talk to her. I cried again outside on her shoulder. She told me we would go home soon. She called me her baby sister in front of her friends again, which I don’t like. We sat in a circle and chatted, I forget about what. I felt better while I was distracted. Brent woke up eventually. We played a lot of foosball. 

We went home eventually to my house. We sat in the basement and watched some sexy anime, then murder stories. We moved on to conspiracy theories. Ian suggested a show called Undone. I liked it but we stopped watching after two episodes cause they kept talking over it. They started talking about shit I didn’t understand so I went upstairs and cried cause I felt left out. My mom let me cry to her for like 20 minutes, then I ate some soup and felt better. I didn’t want to go back down cause they were talking about shared-stores and I wouldn’t have been included. I texted Jay about how I felt and she apologized. I went to sleep and missed them all leaving in the morning by like 20 minutes. I was sad about that but I followed Ian on Insta, so we’re good. He followed me back and I sent him some memes. He liked them :). 

Yesterday I played a lot of video games to recover from camping. I read some good ass fanfic too. There was one with Levi from Attack on Titan, which I’ve recently gotten into. After my grandpa died I came home and devoured a lot of shows from my queue in Funimation, then I started reading it in the school library. So anyway, the fic was about Levi and his cadet girlfriend. The Reader accidentally gets a shot of essentially a pregnancy imitating drug. So she and Levi can't fuck because she’s super fertile. She starts lactating because of the drug and so she needs Levi to drink the milk from her to stop it from hurting. Hot as fuck, hell yeah. 

Weird to go from Epic SMut to Family Time but in the afternoon, we went to have lunch with Shauna and Tala. Tala’s 5th birthday was on the 29th and we hadn’t seen her. We got her some belated Christmas/Birthday presents. She thought the Creatures of Star Wars book was for her little brother, Eliot (9 months). I built her Frozen lego set for her and we played Elsa and Ana. We went upstairs to her room to play Calico Critters. That didn't last long, oh the attention span of a five-year-old. We played animal battle, which was just us throwing stuffed animals at each other. Justin came up to say hey and totally annihilated me and Tala with stuffed cat toys. We left after that.

 I wish I could see Eliot and Tala more often. When Tala was a baby we were with her constantly. We babysat her like three times a week. She loves me so much. She’s the sweetest little girl. Eliot is really clingy right now. He doesn’t let anyone but Shauna hold him and he hates to be out of eyeshot of her. I want to hold him. 

We went to see Cats that afternoon. It was ok. Not as bad as people have been saying, but it wasn't Good. It kinda just exists. I am ashamed to say it but I kinda thought that Mr. Mistoffelees was kinda hot. Just the way he acted. I like guys who are kinda sad and lonely. I guess I’m a furry. Shit happens.

Today I woke up and read a fic about Kylo Ren (RIP) totally destroying his assistant and breaking up her engagement just he wants to smash. Hot. 

I went to my Grandma’s with my dad. I drove there. That was the longest I’ve ever driven and also the biggest road I’ve driven on. We took down her Christmas Deco and looked through a lot of old cookbooks and recipes from the 70′s. She gave me some and Dad wants to put together a cookbook with O’Neil recipes. I think that’s cool. I got some recipe cards for Christmas from Dad, so I’m gonna start my own recipe box. 

Our dryer caught on fire this evening. That was fun. We’re having some money issues, so I don’t know how we’re gonna replace it. I’m just glad I did all my laundry this morning. 

[hvckleberried]

yeah, he’s smoking inside. fucking sue him. miles leans back against the countertop and watches these idiots actually work. he takes a long drag. blinks. are you gonna, like, help at all, man? his exhale’s elongated; he watches his own breath fade into the rafters. 

“ oh, does this bother you ? ” he asks, feigning concern. even cocks his head to the side for good measure. he lifts the cigarette in question to confirm their distaste. the other boy nods. miles’s forefinger taps against the cig and flicks ash onto his stupid west ham high shirt. and there it is. the smirk.

 “ my. bad. ”  

or, alternatively : ‘tis i, linc, with *dj khaled voice* anotha one !!  greetings & salutations to huckleberry jeremiah vernon. call him MILES or he actually might kill you. 

[   m   i    l    e    s        v    e    r     n     o     n      ––    OPEN   FLAME .

✔  oc + wc┊❝ ( aria shahghasemi. he/him &. cismale ) eighteen year old huckleberry jeremiah vernon was listening to "paint it, black” by the rolling stones when the field trip buses turned around. rumor has it he spent two years in juvie & is the unbeknownst father of becca’s child, but who knows if that’s true? what we do know is that their friends describe them as alluring & deft, even if they’re known to be a little anarchic & noxious from time to time.

( &&. general information )

full name: huckleberry jeremiah miles vernon

nickname(s) or alias: miles, vernon, fuckleberry finn ( west ham football team, freshman year ), that asshole, the scary one, the kid ( his foster parents )

preferred name: miles. call him anything else and it’s your funeral, fuckface.

current age: eighteen

astrological sign: scorpio

gender: cismale

preferred pronouns: he/him

sexual preference: bisexual

romantic preference: biromantic

home environment: the kiersney household. a manor-like three-story at the edge of west ham’s easternmost woods. it looks like ikea ate pier 1 imports and fucking barfed up its bones the next day. statement walls. matching furniture. modern art on the walls. his foster parents have a motherfucking sculpture in the front foyer. it’s sickening. suburban. tame. tidy.

current occupation: student. delinquent.

language(s) spoken: english. i’ll-wring-your-neck-with-just-my-eyes. spanish, barely.

native language: english.

current relationship status: his knuckles kissing your face.

( &&. background )

reason behind name: huckleberry jeremiah vernon won his name in the lottery of misfortune: at least, that’s what his aunt used to say to the young boy. he doesn’t know a lot about his parents. enough to know they were royal fuck-ups, crackheads with nothing better to do than fuck and get high and have an accidental kid. they thought it’d be a hilarious form of payback: this monster takes nine months of their precious time, so they’d make his life hell. simple. so when his parents died when he was just an infant, his aunt had the opportunity to change his name. shift the tide. but she couldn’t bring herself to go against her dead sister’s wishes, however fucking twisted up she got because of her bad-news boyfriend. she took huckleberry in and insisted on calling him by his birth name until, at three years old, he was sent home from school with a drawing of his aunt with x’s for eyes. “ my auntie if she keeps saying it ”. from that day forward, he was jeremiah. then miles. only miles.

birth order:  first and only for his biological family. the second-youngest of his cousins, when he lived with his aunt. they had a massive falling out after he returned from juvie. she chucked him out like he was rotten meat. the oldest ( or perhaps same age ) as his current foster brother.

ethnicity: what’s it to you. iranian-american

nationality: american.

religion ( tw: death, acts of violence ): fuck that shit. there’s no god. if there were a god, it’d be fucking him. this wasn’t always miles’s view; it started when he was 4, and accidentally killed his aunt’s cat in front of his cousins. they always hit people when they were doing something wrong in cartons! the cat was trying to steal his cheese stick. so... he hit it with a book. his aunt she made him go to bible camp that summer, where he was vilified for his name. “huckleberry’s a dingleberry! hahaha! where’s tom sawyer, huh?” whatever god there was wouldn’t let him have this name. or this life. he wouldn’t have let his parents die: huckleberry would later find the news clipping. “ bronx couple found shot dead in stolen vehicle, ruled double-suicide. ”  religion’s the opiate of the masses. it’s how pansy people sleep at night. young huckleberry wasn’t allowed back at church after he dropped one of those big candles and watched the altar go up in flames. fine by him. he started playing with fire. messing with the wrong people. getting wrapped up in sketchy city boy shit. any shred of faith left in his body was torn away when he and his older buds planned to rob a bank: miles was 12; his cohorts ( ty & presley ) were 18. miles did most of the electronic work: hacking the cloud, derailing the security system. they stormed the fucking bank of america. one of them whipped out a gun. miles... stabbed somebody in the shoulder, to get them off of ty. he watched that security guard die, that day. but not before his bullet ripped through ty’s head. juvie happened. two years. aggravated manslaughter. he got off easy, as a minor. presley’s still behind bars. so, yeah. there’s no motherfuckin’ god out there. and if there is? he can kindly suck miles’s dick.

political views: politics. are. bullshit. go cry to somebody else about your opinions. there’s 7 fuckin’ billion people on this planet and you think your thoughts on zoning laws and gun control matter? cry him a fucking river.

financial status: he’s secure, because of his foster parents. he keeps testing ‘em, to see if they’ll fuckin’ send him back. broken merchandise; we want a refund. but they don’t, so he... just keeps taking. stealing money from their wallets. selling expensive shit from the house to buy good shit. pocket knives. lighters. alcohol. a gun. 

hometown: bronx, new york city, new york. now it’s west ham. fuck that.

level of education: high school junior. because of his time in juvie, he entered school in west ham as a freshman at 15. he’ll turn nineteen before his senior year. not that it matters. he’s already planning his escape. he’s lifted enough money to skip town soon, go back to new york. avenge ty’s death. he’s got the other security guard’s details, from that day. it pays to be skilled with a keyboard. he’s brilliant, when he wants to be. sharp-witted. his idea of a prank last year was sending an anonymous tip in to the school saying the whole place might blow. hacking the database to make it look like it was sent from a real address. he’s still surprised people aren’t more fucking grateful. he secured them a stupid day off. he’s also known to hack into the cloud to get test answers, and sell ‘em to people that don’t completely make him want to punch them.

( &&. physical appearance )

looks like (or face claim, if applicable): aria shahghasemi. he’s got these midnight black curls. piercing gray eyes. 

height: 5′10. but don’t let that get your guard down.

figure/build:  lean and muscular. won’t be caught dead in west ham’s stupid gym, but he’s fit. his foster parents put in a whole boxing studio in their basement just for him. he’s been known to get into fights, throw punches. it was their way to kind of, like... get his anger out. joke’s on them; he’s not giving it up. that shit’s his. 

hair colour: black.

hair length: mid-length. curly, so it looks shorter than it actually is.

eye colour:  gray.

glasses?:  no. just shades.

skin tone: olive. smooth.

tattoos:  he got one in juvie, on the side of his right wrist. a cross. makes him laugh. irony. he’s in the process of self-tattooing fuck between his left forefinger and thumb, but only the jagged f is there right now. it’s a process. he can’t stomach the needle.

piercings: one diamond stud in his left ear. it’s about the side of a pencil eraser. stolen.

birthmarks/scars/distinguishing marks: a few faded cross-hatches near his hairline, from fights that resulted in stitches. a six-inch line across his chest. knife. a few patches of scar tissue from burns on his palms. all juvie.

dominant hand: left-handed. you can tell because that’s the hand he always uses to flick his lighter on and off, on and off. he’s always playing with that damned thing.

if painted, what color are their nails?: who do you think he is, fuckin’ bowie? jesus.

usual style of clothing: black on black on black. did i mention black? black t-shirts, leather jackets, denim jackets, dark jeans, boots. wouldn’t be caught dead in fuckin’ sneakers. failed gym because he wasn’t about to put on dowdy shorts and t-shirts just to run around a glorified prison for 30 minutes every day. oh, there’s a pep rally? we’re supposed to wear centurion colors? fuck you.

frequently worn jewelry:  he wears a thin gold chain around his neck every day. sometimes he’s got rings.

describe their voice, what accent?:  his voice is very punchy, low. cat-like. glimmers of some new york peppered in here and there.

what is their speaking style (fast, monotone, loquacious)?:  clipped. acidic.

describe their scent: amber. tobacco. smoky.

describe their posture:  he stands tall, defiant, aloof. chin always tipped up in the face of oncoming threats. his whole body’s a proverbial middle finger to the world: yeah, i’m here. bite me.

( &&. legal information )

any speeding tickets?:  yep. went 80 in a 25 zone.

have they ever been arrested?:  yes. at this point, the west ham police force is really tired of his shit.

do they have a criminal record?:  absolutely. various misdemeanors. cybercrimes. property damage, breaking & entering. shoplifting. aggravated assault. 

have they committed any violent crimes?:  hAs He CoMiTtEd AnY vIoLeNt cRiMeS ??? ( he’s laughing. )

property crimes?: affirmative.

traffic crimes?: should be the least of your concern.

other crimes?: don’t even get me started. the moral compass on this kid is... nonexistent. the answer to the world’s problems is fuck ‘em. anarchy.

( &&. medical information )

blood type: o negative.

date/time of birth: december 3rd. 3:32am. witching hour. ha.

place of birth: shitty hole-in-the-wall crackhouse. his parents dropped him at his aunt’s before freewheeling.

vaginal birth or cesauren section?: vaginal birth.

sex: male.

smoker? / drinker? / drug user?:  yes / yes / yes. what can he say? he’s an equal-opportunity employer.

allergies: grizz visser. fuckin’ ass. nosy people. pop music.

ever broken a bone?: his nose in second grade: the other kid got it worse. his hand in fifth grade. worth it. couple ribs in juvie. his arm, when he was a baby. his parents wanted to see if gravity was, like. real.

any physical ailments/illnesses/disabilities: nah. not that he’d tell you anyway.

any medication regularly taken: nyquil, sometimes. helps him sleep.

( &&. personality )

direct quote from them:  *blinks at you like you’re speaking swahili* 

positive traits: alluring, deft, crafty with computers. sly.

negative traits: anarchic, acerbic, explosive. heedless. noxious. 

likes: the flick of the flame. beat poetry. darkroom photography. scared glances. messing with the system. sidestepping boundaries. wintergreen lifesavers. blueberry slushies. ac/dc, the stones, lynyrd skynyrd, sting, the offspring, kansas. buttered toast. milk duds. history. cigarettes: he’s always got one tucked behind his ear.

dislikes: fucking football team. working on yearbook ( detention punishment ). catch him taking photos of those morons with his middle finger in frame. his roots. his aunt, for casting him out. his foster family, for giving him so many chances. he doesn’t deserve them. his name. bright sunlight, hurts his eyes. pistachios. remembering. weak alcohol. fraternizing with the idiots of west ham.

strengths: he’ll figure out your nervous ticks within two minutes of talking to you. he can go hours watching someone ramble and not say a thing, and not break his expression. making others feel small. digging his fingers into your dirt. finding back doors, loopholes, and getting through cybersecurity like a hot knife through butter. baking – but tell anybody and he’ll end you. tying cherry stems with his tongue. making sense of ginsberg. remembering stupid historical facts. pope gregory ix executed cats and that allowed rats to spread the bubonic plague in masses. still fuckin’ like your religion, asshole?

weaknesses: vengeful. his definition of justice is very much based in vigilante action; an eye for an eye. he’s got an aloof disposition, but his past wounds are still seething. empathy. expressing emotions other than anger. patience. impulse control. he can’t hide that you’re pissing him the hell off. swears in front of kids, often. probably slept with your aunt two towns over. can’t lose an argument, ever. even with authority figures.

insecurities:  what if he... caused ty’s death? what if that’s on him? is he worth shit? he’ll make himself worth something. he’ll get them back. all of ‘em. he’ll make ‘em pay.

fears/phobias:  hates needles. but fucks with ‘em anyway. fears oblivion, but puts up a front like he’s chill with it. fears he’ll never muster up... a purpose. or whatever the fuck people call it. fears this is all he’ll ever be: an eighteen-year-old fuckup with a record, hands that itch to fight, to crush, to destroy. 

habits:  playing with his lighter. chewing on toothpicks. popping milk duds like pills. glaring at everyone, no one, nothing. everything. laughing in the face of authority. making unprecedented digs at people, just because he can. propping his feet up on the desk in front of him when his teachers ask him to answer questions, twirling a pencil in his hands like he’s god. grabbing a slushie from 7/11 just to have something to do with his hands. messing with the popular kids’ social medias, just for fun. hacking the online lunch menu to see his classmates get fuckin’ pissed when mozzarella sticks are served on friday, not today, sorry. driving to neighboring towns’ parties and hooking up with chicks there. masquerading as a man with a reason. hitting up college parties often. lingering in shadow. living in gray areas. writing his own notes in the front of library books, on the title page, in sharpie. “ fuck you ten thousand ”  on the school’s copy of pride & prejudice. “ kindly die, thanks ” in gone with the wind. “ congrats, you’re literate ” in the front of catcher in the rye.

quirks: always sits in the back left corner of the room, near the window. he literally jumped out, sophomore year, when the school security officer tried to bust him for selling pills to a freshman in the hall earlier that day. popping his earbuds in during lectures. maintaining unbroken eye contact with teachers as he does so. getting ~very close~ and speaking ~very low~. purring threats. can never drink lightly. skipping school often, fabricating online attendance to avoid suspension. barely eating the food his foster parents prepare. leaving the table early, unexcused. digging into the leftovers after everyone’s gone to bed. severing ties. if he’s lucky, never makin’ ‘em in the first place. his new yorkisms come out when he’s drunk, or high, or tired.

hobbies: darkroom photography. reading poetry. burning shit. smoking. walking around the mini mart like he’s a hunter in the wild, just to make the clerks uncomfortable.   

guilty pleasure:  he listens to “lore” and “my favorite murder”. but he disguises that shit, saving the album covers of the podcasts as seether.

desires: to avenge ty’s death. get the fuck outta west ham. to find a reason to be here. a reason why.

wishes: his parents didn’t kill themselves. cowards. they deserved to deal with him. they deserved to be tortured, for doing this to him. he wishes he hadn’t pulled that knife on his aunt. then at least he’d still be in new york city, instead of here, with this stupid fuckin’ foster family that just won’t let him go.

secrets: killed a guy. the reason for his juvie sentence is redacted on his public record. he’s lonely, a lot of the time. and, oh yeah: he’s becca’s baby daddy.

turn ons:  no bullshit. sarcasm. intellect. no strings.

turn offs:  sentimentality. smileyness. too much perfume. caring.

lucky number: 1. he’s all he’s got.

pet peeves:  chewing gum: fucking pellegrino and his damned bubbles. bubbly people. cassandra pressman and the tree-sized stick up her ass. foot tapping. prying. school involvement. slow drivers. slow walkers. slow thinkers.

their motto:  “ fuck you very much. ”

( &&. favourites )

food: falafel. shut up.

drink: he brought vodka to school in a water bottle once. diet coke.

fast food restaurant:  wendy’s. he likes the chocolate frosties.

flavour: chocolate. 

word: fuck. for a vast array of reasons.

colour:  black.

clothing: his most worn leather jacket. touch it and he’ll end you.

accessory: the gold chain ‘round his neck. it was ty’s.

candle scent: smoke. tobacco. whatever that shit is, patchouli.

game: fuck games. fuck fugitive. leave him alone.

animal:  he has such a soft spot for caterpillars.

holiday: christmas. he likes baking shit. but if that ever gets out, he’ll flip.

weather: pouring rain, with patches of sun in between. it’s rare, but damn. it’s kind of beautiful.

season: summer. fast drives, windows down. no school. no bullshit.

book: on the road, jack kerouac.

artist: aerosmith.

band/group: ac/dc, kiss, guns ‘n roses, van halen, def leppard.

song: we’re not gonna take it, twisted sister.

movie/film:  star wars. fuck off, it’s good.

tv show:  history docs. he likes those decade pieces on the history channel.

sport: boxing.

possession:  his lighter.

number: 1.

person:  that’s the dumbest question he’s ever heard. himself. he’s lying.

( &&. skills )

talents: hacking. lying. breaking rules. testing limits. photography. playing people.

ability to drive a car?:  yes. recklessly.

can they ride a bike?:  yes, chooses not to.

do they play any sports?:  tonsil hockey. heartbreaking. boxing.

anything they’re bad at?:  empathizing. serenity.

do they have any combat training? why?:  yep. his friends in grade school. juvie.

( &&. firsts )

childhood memory: crushing a handful of cheerios in his tiny hands and feeling... powerful.

crush: ava watson. she said she liked his eyes.

email address: jinxyouoweme@aim.com

job: reception at a local gym in west ham. lasted a day; he punched a guy.

phone: flip-phone. now he’s got an iphone.

kiss: hanna parler. 6th grade. said she’d miss him before he left for juvie.

love:  HA. nice try, dick.

sexual experience: josie thwaites. 6th grade. they didn’t know what the fuck they were doing.

( &&. childhood )

best childhood memory?:  try again.

worst childhood memory?:  seeing ty’s eyes go dim.

what were they like as a child?:  angry. electric. not easily tamed.

any crushes growing up?:  some. he doesn’t do that now. crushing.

( &&. this or that )

expensive or inexpensive tastes?:  expensive.

hygienic or unhygienic?: hygienic.

open-minded or close-minded?: close-minded. his way or bust.

introvert or extrovert?: introvert. buzz off.

optimistic or pessimistic?: pessimistic. optimism’s dead.

daredevil or cautious?:  daredevil. caution’s an early grave.

logical or emotional?:  emotional.

generous or stingy?:  stingy.

polite or rude?:  rude. so rude.

book smart or street smart?:  both.

popular or loner?:  loner. notorious, though. everyone knows who he is. wonders what his deal is. he’s got this... dark magnetism. if you’re smart, you’ll stay away.

leader or follower?:  leader. follows his own path. likes disrupting order.

day or night person?:  night.

cat or dog person?:  cat. despite what his childhood mistakes might lead you to believe.

closet door open or closed while sleeping?:  open. come get him.

( &&. social media )

do they have a facebook? twitter? instagram? vine? snapchat? tinder/grindr? tumblr? youtube? yes to facebook and instagram. no twitter, no vine. has a snapchat, rarely uses it. yes to tinder.

if so; name on facebook: miles vernon.

instagram user: milesvernon.

snapchat user: milesvernon.

( &&. musical tastes )

theme song: paint it, black –– the rolling stones. 

makes them sad:  anything by the beatles. makes him think of his aunt’s apartment. and then he gets angry.

makes them dance:   nope. he wouldn’t be caught dead dancing in front of the likes of you. when he’s drunk, anything with a decent beat will make him sway his hips a little.

( &&. miscellaneous )

do they have a fake i.d.?:  hell yeah. a couple.

are they a virgin?:  ha. no.

describe their signature:  chaos. barely legible.

how long would they survive in a zombie apocalypse?:  he’d bite a zombie’s fuckin’ head off, if that answers your question.

do they travel?: nah.

one place they would like to live:  anywhere but here.

one place they would like to visit:  anywhere but here.

celebrity crush:  camila mendes. tell anybody and he’ll hunt you down.

what can you find in their pockets/wallet/purse: cigs. lighter. some form of tic tac. 

place(s) your character can always be found:  in the shadows. on rooftops. places he shouldn’t be.

when does your character like to wake up?:  7:03am. he doesn’t like rounded numbers.

how does your character spend their free days?:  reading. burning some stuff. driving out to other towns to do reckless shit.

what’s your character’s bedtime routine?:  read some poems. have a cigarette. knock out.

what does your character wear to bed?:  boxers, no shirt.

if your character can’t fall asleep, what are they thinking about?:  ty’s brains. that knife. juvie. getting back. making them pay.

what is their idea of perfect happiness?:  revenge.

on what occasions do they lie?:  on what occasions don’t they lie ?

most marked characteristic: his ghost-gray eyes. his smirk. his hair.

what is one thing they’d most like to change about themselves?:  only one?

how would they like to die?:  in a blaze of fucking glory.

do they snore? no.

can they curl their tongue?: yes.

can they whistle?:  yep. he likes doing that yoo-hoo kind of whistle. makes people uncomfortable.

do they believe in the supernatural?:  nope. bullshit.

has anyone ever broken their heart?:  no.

have they ever broken anyone’s heart?:  yes. on purpose.

are they squeamish?:  not at all.  

have they ever seen anyone die? what happened?:  see above: ty. that security guard. he’s sure they won’t be the last.

are they a lightweight?:  not at all.

[hannahhostofheaven]

Shadows of the past Ch.2

Summery: At the onset of her pregnancy, Hannah begins to have strange memories of the past she has no idea where they’re coming from. It’s troubling times for Castiel and Hannah as they struggle to care for Claire Novak and Jack Kline while they have not one, but three archangels on their tail. As their lives spiral out of control, Castiel and Hannah struggle to help their friends around them as they go through their own challenges.

Pairings: Castiel/Hannah, Claire/Kaia, Dean/Jo/Charlie, Gabriel/Sam/Eileen, Gabriel/Loki (mentioned), possible Jack/OC

Warnings: implied abuse in back story, mild smut

Chapter One

Hannah cried out in pain as the guards dragged her through the palace and deposited her in front of the Pharoh. She trembled as she lay where they had thrown her, blood trickling down her face. Her body ached, she couldn’t count the number of bruises she felt as she tried to curl in on herself, lowering her gaze to the marble floor as the pharaoh approached.

“Found this Hebrew girl stealing from the market,” the guards said. “What should we do with her?” Hannah kept her gaze fixed on the floor as she felt the pharaoh's menacing presence over her. The imposing man reached down and grabbed her roughly by the chin and forced her to look up at him. The cold piercing brown eyes met her blue ones as he seemed to regard her, studying her, as if he was trying to decide on an excellent cut of meat.

“You beat her,” the pharaoh commented, eyes lingering over the many lacerations and bruises on Hannah’s face as he held his firm grip on her face. She whimpered softly, trying to pull away from him, but he only gripped her tighter, fingers digging painfully into her already tender skin.

“She put up a fight,” the guards explained. “Had to teach her a lesson.”

“Take her to Mefretari,” the pharaoh instructed. “My wife could use a servant.”

Hannah cried out again as the guards grabbed her by the shoulders, yanking her from the pharaoh's grip and dragging her through the palace. Down a hall, through a few doors, up some stairs, and finally they arrived at a door. A few knocks and she was hauled in. The room smelled heavily of the scent of frankincense and myrrh, and the floor was covered in soft rugs. Thin curtains parted revealing the luxurious bed chambers as a woman rose from where she sat in front of the window overlooking the kingdom.

The woman turned, revealing her soft features, her thick hair hanging in numerous braids, adorned with beautiful ivory hair clips. Ivory beads hung from her neck, and she wore the most delicate blue linen sheath dress that hugged her delicate figure.

“Did you have to beat her?” the woman demanded angrily at the guards. “Leave her and get out.”

The guards carelessly dropped Hannah at the woman’s feet and hurried out. Once they were alone, Mefretari knelt in front of Hannah, gently brushing a hand to her chin, coaxing her to look at her. “Do not be afraid,” she said gently. “I won’t hurt you.”

There was a soothing calmness to the woman’s voice that calmed Hannah’s fears. She continued to tremble, her body fatigued and her emotions frayed. Mefretari got up and crossed the room, digging through her vanity for a few things and grabbing a small ceramic basin of water. She hurried back to Hannah and dabbed at the gash on her cheek with a damp cloth.

Hannah winced in pain, trying to shrink away. “Please…” she begged. But the woman had a gentle touch, and after a while, she stopped resisting.

“I know what you are,” the woman said as she cleaned the wounds. “I’m an angel too; my name is Castiel…”

Hannah gasped as she sat up in bed. Castiel was instantly at her side, gripping her shoulder as she turned to look at him, her eyes wide as reality began to return around her.

“Hannah,” Castiel soothed, rubbing her bare shoulders as she composed herself. “It’s okay; you fell asleep.”

Hannah glanced at him, arching a brow with confusion. “I did…” she vaguely remembered the feeling she had. A strange weakness in her body as her consciousness slowly melted away while she lay in Castiel’s arms after making love.

“How?” she murmured. She’d never fallen asleep before. She was an angel; she didn’t need sleep. But it was as if her body just shut down. And where was she?

“I was somewhere else,” she said as she sat there in bed, Castiel watching her with concern. “Ancient Egypt. There was a woman… but she was you. She was your vessel… I don’t understand.”

“You had a dream,” Castiel tried to explain. “It is known to happen when you sleep. Though I didn’t know it was possible for angels.”

“It felt like more than a dream,” Hannah insisted. “It felt familiar. I’ve been in that situation before.”

Castiel pulled her into his arms, and she lay her head down on his shoulder as they both lay down in bed again. He rubbed her back soothingly as she lay there, trying to sort out the confusion. “Maybe it has something to do with the pregnancy,” Castiel offered as a suggestion. “After all, I haven’t known any angels who could have children; there’s no telling what the effects might be.”

Hannah thought about that. It had been a few days since they had arrived in Maine now and yesterday, Jo and Charlie had taken Hannah to a doctor to confirm her pregnancy. She was still getting used to the idea; she wasn’t even sure how it was possible. They had been keeping it secret for now, other than Jo and Charlie, Castiel was the only one who knew, she wasn’t sure how she’d tell Claire and Jack. She dreaded Claire’s reaction.

“Is someone going to come out here and feed us or what!” Claire’s loud bellowing from the kitchen roused Hannah from her thoughts. She groaned and looked at Castiel.

“They both have school today,” Castiel explained. “We should go see them off.” Hannah nodded and got out of bed. A rush of cold hair hit her nude body like a freight train, and she shrunk back, not prepared for the cold.

“It’s getting colder,” Castiel said as he got up too. The two of them quickly got dressed, Castiel donning his typical beige trench coat and suit, and Hannah choosing her typical gray blazer and navy blue blouse, and jeans.

Moments later, the two of them made their way to the kitchen where they found Claire sitting at the table impatiently tapping her foot while Jack sat across from her, looking slightly confused.

“Are you unable to make yourself something to eat?” Castiel questioned as he moved into the kitchen to rummage through the groceries he and Hannah had purchased yesterday.

“You’re supposed to be the parent,” Claire scoffed. Hannah sat down at the table in between Claire and Jack while Castiel went to work making some eggs and toast.

Hannah sighed. She was still preoccupied with the dream she had had, but she glanced over at Jack. “Are you looking forward to your first day of school?” she asked him. She smiled as the Nephilim turned his attention to her.

“I still don’t understand why I have to go to school,” he responded. “You and Castiel can teach me about the cosmos, can’t you?”

“Yes we can,” Hannah replied. She was confident that as angels, she and Castiel possessed more knowledge than any human could have, and even though Jack was only a year old, there was no doubt he was learning fast. “But humans have laws here that require you to attend school.”

“And it’s not just academics that’s important,” Castiel added as he put a plate of eggs down in front of them all. “You will benefit from interacting with other children. You will develop social skills.”

“He’s a one-year-old in a teenager’s body,” Claire pointed out as she ate her food. “Kids are going to roast him alive.”

“Perhaps you should help him,” Hannah suggested. “Make sure he fits in.”

Claire rolled her eyes and scoffed at Hannah. “Like I don’t have my own problems,” she retorted. “Like angel body snatchers who think that just because they are screwing my fake dad, they think they can pretend they are my mother now.”

“Claire-” Castiel attempted but was cut off when Claire got up abruptly.

“Come on Jack we’re going to be late for the bus,” Claire demanded as she brushed past them all and hurried out the door.

Hannah sighed, nerves a little frayed. For the most part, she tried to avoid Claire’s wrath, but even speaking to the teenager seemed to incur some kind of backlash. She didn’t know how she was ever going to form any sort of bond with her.

She felt a hand grip her arm and turned to see Jack. “Teenagers have hormones,” he explained with a bright smile. “That causes them to act chaotic and irrational.”

Hannah smiled, putting a hand over his hand. “Thank you, Jack,” she said genuinely. The Nephilim leaned forward to hug her before getting out of his seat and hurrying out the door after Claire.

Hannah glanced across the table at Castiel who sat there looking perplexed. “I don’t know,” he offered. “Maybe living here for awhile and having some kind of permanence will help her.”

Hannah nodded. She knew she shouldn’t let Claire’s attitude upset her so much. After all, he wasn’t trying to be Claire’s mother; she only wanted to love Castiel. She’d grown pretty attached to Jack, but it didn’t seem like she’d ever reach any kind of understanding with Claire.

Despite trying to calm down, Hannah quickly looked away as she felt that familiar lump in her throat and promptly moved to wipe tears. She heard Castiel get up and suddenly he was in front of her, pulling her out of her seat and pulling her close.

Hannah had always been unique in that unlike other angels; she felt emotions deeply. She had often thought of this as a failing as it set her apart from other angels, but she had learned to control her feelings, but she felt so out of control now. As if she was always drowning in a sea of worry, inadequacy, and anxiety. She buried her face in Castiel’s shirt, breath hitching on a sob. She felt Castiel’s hand on the back of her head as he pressed his face to the top of her head, enveloping her entire head in his tender embrace.

“I know Claire’s attitude is frustrating,” Castiel said softly, his breath against the top of her head. “But it must be hard for her. She barely tolerates me as it is, but I have managed to get her to respond on occasion, perhaps because I look like her father. But she’s having trouble adjusting to all the changes around her.”

“I know,” Hannah murmured into him. “I’d never try to replace her mother. I don’t know how to be a mother to anyone, Castiel. I’m an angel. I’m a soldier. A warrior. This…” she trailed off, pulling back from him quickly as a sudden wave of nausea had her bolting for the nearest bathroom.

She sunk to her knees before getting sick, her entire body seemed to clench as she gagged and retched. She felt Castiel’s hands pull back her hair and rub her back as she proceeded to lose her breakfast.

“It’s called morning sickness,” Castiel told her as she finished, wiping her mouth and taking in a breath as she collapsed backward against Castiel. “It’s common in pregnancy, but I have read that it typically only lasts until the second trimester.”

“How do you know this?” Hannah breathed as Castiel held her.

“I consulted the google when Jack’s mother was pregnant,” Castiel explained matter of factly. He sighed, kissing her on the cheek. “Don’t worry, I will consult the google on every aspect of pregnancy and parenthood, I’ll take plenty of notes so I can guide you through it all.”

“Perhaps I’ll have to consult this google too,” Hannah responded. She pressed her forehead against the nape of his neck as he picked her up into his arms and carried her to the front room, laying her on the couch.

Castiel dropped a blanket over Hannah and kissed her on the head lovingly. “I’ll make you some soup,” he decided as he brought her his phone and showed her how to access google.

As Castiel hurried to the kitchen, Hannah was deep into learning about the first months of pregnancy when she was startled by a pounding on the door. She put the phone down on the coffee table and sat up just as Castiel rushed for the door.

Hannah was not expected who appeared behind the door when Castiel opened it. “Gabriel?”

The archangel hurried inside and quickly closed the door behind him, looking at Castiel. “Hey I need to crash with you for a while, bro,” he insisted, looking anxious as he glanced at Hannah. “Hey Hans,” he greeted.

“Gabriel… how are you? I thought you were…” Castiel stammered.

“Yeah yeah, I know Mike stabbed me,” Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Whatever, it didn’t work. Anyway, I have to hide out here from Loki.”

“Loki?” Castiel raised a brow as he sat down on the couch next to Hannah and Gabriel plopped down on a chair. “I thought you killed him.”

Gabriel gave Castiel a pointed look. “He’s a trickster, Cas,” he informed him, as if he should have known. “He taught me his tricks, remember?”

“Why are you hiding from him?” Hannah asked. “Maybe you shouldn’t have told him you were alive.”

“Okay, so he and I might have been… you know…” Gabriel looked at them both knowingly. Castiel blinked, understanding in his eyes as he glanced at Hannah who was still trying to figure out what exactly she was supposed to know.

“They are having sex,” Castiel informed her bluntly.

“Oh,” Hannah said, realization dawning. “And… you don’t want to continue doing that?”

“Thanks for putting it so delicately, Cas,” Gabriel replied.

“May I remind you that Loki sold you to Asmodeus?” Castiel pointed out. “Do you really think associating with him is such a good idea?”

“Look, he overreacted over the Lucifer shit,” Gabriel explained. “He tends to overreact. Which is why I’m here. It’ll all blow over eventually, but for the time being, I need somewhere to crash.”

“You may stay here as long as you like,” Castiel replied. “But I am caring for Claire and Jack and I should warn you that Claire is not in the best of attitudes these days.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Like I’m intimidated by moody, angsty teens,” he replied. “Thanks, bro, knew I could count on you. Hey, where are those two chuckleheads?”

“You mean Sam and Dean?” Castiel surmised. “In the bunker around the corner. We’re manning this auxiliary building for them. They are living there with Jo, Eileen, and Charlie.”

Gabriel started to get up. “I better go pay my respects,” he replied. Hannah glanced at Castiel, their eyes meeting, each with a should we tell him? Look in their eyes.

“Wait,” Castiel held up a hand before Gabriel could leave. “If you are going to stay here for a while, you should know that Hannah is pregnant.”

“Uh come again?” Gabriel blinked, looking back and forth between the two angels. “Who‘s brilliantly dumb idea was that?”

“Neither of us planned it,” Hannah responded, feeling nervous at Gabriel’s incredulous reaction. “It just… happened.”

“Yeah right,” Gabriel said ingeniously. “That’s what they all say. Look can I just say what a bad idea this is? Do you have any idea what will happen when Michael finds out?”

Hannah pursed her lips, thinking about Michael. She swallowed with apprehension as she gazed down at the floor. Gabriel sighed, got up and knelt down in front of her, gripping her shoulder. “Hey, Sis it’s okay,” he assured her. “It’s just… not exactly something Mikey is going to be down for, and I heard it on the grapevine that Luci and Raph may still be out there so… just be careful, okay?”

“We haven’t told anyone except Jo and Charlie,” Castiel replied. “We’re trying to find the right time to tell Sam and Dean… and Jack and Claire.”

“Well my lips are sealed,” Gabriel said assured them. “Hey I’ll be back later, I’m going to hit up the Winchesters for some cash or something.”

With that, Gabriel hurried out of the house, leaving Castiel and Hannah alone again.

[potions-and-potters]

The tags on your newest snack post were wild. What a roller coaster of emotions. Any chance we get to hear the story involving mashed potatoes and a bed that was not even yours? I'm intrigued. ~Sleepy Anon

Lol

It’s a long story and is probs less funny than is awful. Here is shorter version:

When I was in middle school we had this trip. It was just a long weekend, but it was a traditional trip. Everyone who went to my school district knew about it. It was legendary. It was to this camp. No idea where. Basically, we packed our bags and went off to learn about nature, recycling, sharing, waste, etc. We weren’t allowed technology and we’d be sleeping in cabins (separated boys and girls)

Here is the thing to know about me when I was this age:

I had one best friend, who was also my only friend, and wasn’t going on the trip at the same time as me. It was a big school, so certain wings of the school would go one week and the other the next and we weren’t in the same wing. 

I was bullied a lot. Badly. Like Severus ain’t got nothing on me, son.

I was very very very self-conscious and had hella bad untreated anxiety and depression.

I learnt from experience that telling teachers about bullying did jack shit to help it, but did make it 500000000000 x worse.

I was really looking forward to this trip, but was fucking terrified of being humiliated by the others students.

I was terrified of getting in trouble because I had brought my phone with me even though we were forbidden to do so. My parents had forced me to take it in case, and also I felt safer with it knowing my mom was a phone call away.

I had a huge fear of teachers and getting in trouble. No idea what I thought they’d do. But I was always good. 

So, after driving for, what to my 11-year-old self, felt like forever and being left alone or bullied the entire way, we finally arrived. Here is why it was awful and traumatic:

I had to sleep in a bunk bed with the other girls in my classes that made their entire lives about making mine utter hell. Like I cried myself to sleep every night and begged my mom every morning not to send me to school or transfer me to another one or send me to boarding school in Switzerland (another story).  

I put NOTHING past these girls. They were 11-year-old MONSTERS. They didn’t want to just see me crying. They wanted to break me. They wanted me to utterly and completely break down. They wanted blood. When I say these were the worst years of my life, I mean it. Honestly, I’m genuinely surprised I can share this story because due to those monsters and the psychological survival mechanism of repression, I don’t remember much of these years. At all.

So, just having to be there was awful. I couldn’t sleep. Not just because those assholes talked and giggled all damn night, but because I was scared of letting my guard down. I also had to make my bed and I had a stuffed animal (not the usual one I slept with because NO WAY would I risk bringing it there with them). I tried hiding it all the time. Like a freaking spy mission so they wouldn’t see it. 

There was one girl that wasn’t absolutely horrid to me. She used me and I knew it but at that point, someone who openly used me but would be decent to me was better than nothing. None of them were her friend either, so she basically “let” me hang out with her so she had company. She also made me make her bed. Like verge of tears and whining until I did it. To make sure the others didn’t pick up on it and use it against me (also didn’t want them to start targeting her because what asshole is okay with someone else being bullied?), I did it. Too bad right after I got made fun of like hell by the others. 

I was terrified of going to the bathroom. I was scared they’d like somehow open the door or somehow figure out how to make fun of me for peeing like a normal damn person. They had also all snuck their phones in, so I was also absolutely terrified they’d stand on the toilet and take a photo of me sitting there trying to pee in peace and then pass it around the school.

Then there was showering. Oh my god. Me being naked at ANY POINT IN TIME with them there? The showers were already a little too cabin-y for me anyway, as in there was like a shower head and a door that wasn’t exactly completely concealed. And I had to shower there. Where they might peek to laugh at me for whatever reason. Maybe even just to laugh to make me think they were laughing at something about me. They were cruel and manipulative. I wouldn’t have put it past them. So yeah. Terrified. Also, showers were timed. 5 minutes MAX. Any longer and the water turned ice old and then off.

I came out one night and they were all acting… well they were ignoring me. I had walked out the bathroom from brushing my teeth and it had been a whole half hour at least that they’d said anything to me… and they ignored me? I immediately went to my bed. My stuffed animal was gone. I asked for it. They laughed. I told them it wasn’t funny. That I wanted it back. Please. Stop. It isn’t funny. Just give it back and leave me alone. Please. They laughed. I checked every bunk. They stuffed it under the mattress of the last top bunk in the very very back. Then bullied me for being upset.

This was like nightly.

The days were boring and spent alone. Writing in notebooks. Listening to teachers. Dealing with bullying. The usual except we walked through the woods.

Meals were absolutely horrific. This is the waste part. It was basically child abuse. I mean even as a kid I knew it was wrong, but the older I get the more angry I get that it happened. My parents, when I told them when I returned, were FURIOUS and said it was a good thing it didn’t happen to me (it did).

There was a competition. Because the camp was to teach us about nature and waste, we were to have no leftovers. That meant you only took what you could eat. Nothing more. The table with the least leftovers won. In the middle of the table was a tube thing with measuring lines where you dumped the leftovers. The thing is, you also didn’t get to eat anything other than your 3 meals a day. No snacks. After spending the ENTIRE day (from like dawn to dusk) running around outside and doing stuff, you’re STARVING. Everyone is. And super cold because it was freaking late Autumn and wet as fuck so we all sat on wet leaves if we sat at all so you just want to fill yourself with hot food at the end of the day. But you can’t take more than you can eat. This sucked for me because I was so scared of getting in trouble for wasting food, but so hungry, but couldn’t get small amount then more if I wanted to because I was scared of getting bullied for it. So I went hungry.

This girl that was sat at my table though. She didn’t think about it one night. She was hungry. So she put food on her plate and she ate. Then, the end of the meal was coming up. Each table had one of the people from the camp thing sitting there to teach us more facts. She saw that this girl had food on her plate. She wasn’t happy and wasn’t about to lose. The girl said she was full and couldn’t eat anymore. She said she was sorry we wouldn’t win. All the kids said it was okay because hey we get it. Also, it’s just a competion. And one night. Don’t force yourself.

The camp lady didn’t agree. She forced the girl to eat it. The girl tried. She really did. But she couldn’t. Nobody was allowed to help her. The lady forced her to mash her muffin, mash potatoes, some kind of meat I can’t remember, eggs, and some kind of dessert together into a disgusting thick mixture. Then, she forced her to spoon it in her mouth and swallow. Spoonful by spoonful until it was gone. The girl was crying at the end. Ready to vomit. We all watched on in horror. 

We didn’t even win.

After four days of this, we came home. I was exhausted, starving, gross, and upset. The ONLY thing I wanted was to shower, eat something, and sleep. But no. With the WORST TIMING EVER this family that my family was friends with came over as well as our neighbors. It was like a little party. Worse, my mom was babysitting this four year old kid that I swear at times turned into an actual demon child. Well, already at the breaking point, this kid pushed. Hard. And I cracked. Bad. I ended up screaming at her to behave and basically stop being a bitch (but nicer) as she hid in the corner glaring at me, in front of everyone. It was… not a good look. 

So yeah. All that added up to condition me to see waste= BAD NO DO NOT DO NO NO BAD SO VERY BAD

Middle school sucked.

[mikamangata]

Eine kleine Nachtmusik

First of all, thank you so much for the amazing love you all showed my last few posts! It really makes you want to write as much as possible if there's so many people enjoying it!

If you didn't read the first chapter or my If BTS attended Hogwarts Hyung/Maknae line post I recommend you do that, otherwise there'll be some confusion! Anyways, I hope you'll have fun reading!^^

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Chapter two

"And what did you do during the summer, Kookie? Oh and Taehyungie and Jiminie told me you probably didn't get to buy new school things for this year, so we bought everything you'll need when we were at Diagon Alley." Granny said. They were currently all eating breakfast together, Jungkook himself had a big plate full of pancakes in front of him. They looked delicious and he ate timidly. "I-I didn't do anything, really. And thank you so much for getting my school supplies, I don't know how to thank you." The youngest said genuinely. Granny, an old woman with grey hair and welcoming, motherly eyes, immediately answered: "Oh you don't have to thank us, Kookie darling! It wasn't a bother at all and when the boys told me about the way your family treats you...I honestly have no words. But I want you to know that you're always welcome here, sweetheart." Jungkook nearly teared up at that. This woman, who had met him only once before, who knew nothing about him except for the things Taehyung and Jimin told her, opened her arms and home for him. She greeted him warmly, let him sleep in her house and made him a nice breakfast. Jungkook's heart clenched at the thought and he gulped loudly, unable to answer. Granny sensed this avalanche of feelings that seemed to swallow Jungkook's words, so she got up and hugged the youngest gently. At first Jungkook was taken aback, but after a moment he hugged her back. His fists gripped Granny's yellow apron tightly as he whimpered quietly, the motherly love new and overwhelming for him. Is that what it felt like? Because if it did, he'd do anything in the world to feel it for just a few moments longer. The absence of hostility paired with Granny's warmth calmed him down and the old woman gently cooed at him.

"Jiminie, don't forget your hoodie, the castle is cold when it's winter!" "It's in my suitcase Granny." "Taehyung! Don't forget Gucci!" "I already put her in the car." "Yoongi-ah, help Kookie with his suitcase!" "Okay." "Hoseok-ah, did Mickey come back yet? If not I'll send him to Hogwarts later." "I haven't seen him in weeks, he's probably lost again." The whole house buzzed with energy since everyone was running around, packing their things into the car. Granny was reminding them gently of important thing they might have forgotten, at the same time making sandwiches for them so they had something to eat on the train. After they were done, everyone got into the car, which seemed way bigger than before, and they drove to the train station. The drive itself was quite uneventful, except for when Taehyung thought it was a good idea to let Gucci out of her cage. "Taehyung oh my god put that thing back in its cage or I'll throw it out the goddamn window!" Hoseok screeched. Everyone knew that he hated snakes, it was Taehyung's fault really. "Okay okay, calm down! She just looked like she needed cuddles, I'll put her right back." Taehyung groaned.

They arrived at the station and ran through the brick wall with their pets and suitcases. The big red Hogwarts train was as beautiful as they had remembered, with people running around hurriedly and parents saying their goodbyes. As they looked around, Jungkook's eyes landed on a tall, broad-shouldered Hufflepuff prefect, already in his uniform. He was talking to some parents, answering questions and reassuring them that their child would be safe at Hogwarts. Jungkook immediately started running towards him, leaving all his things behind. He shouted: "Hyung! Jin-hyung!" The handsome boy turned around and greeted Jungkook by hugging him tightly. "Kookie! It's great to see you again, I was so worried. When I heard you arrived at Taehyung's I wanted to come too but I was to busy, I'm sorry." Seokjin apologised, gently kissing the top of Jungkook's head. "S'okay, Hyung. Missed you lots." Jungkook answered, his voice muffled by the fabric of Seokjin's uniform and the older snickered fondly. They parted reluctantly and the Seokjin slung an arm around Jungkook's shoulders. "Joonie and I arrived super early so we were able to get a whole compartment to ourselves. I won't be with you for the first fifty minutes or so, I have a prefect meeting. But I'll join you as soon as I can, promise. Joonie is already waiting inside, I told him to stay in the compartment so nobody would take it away from us. Get your stuff inside, I still have to talk to some people." Jungkook nodded and walked back to the other boys. While the youngest was talking to Seokjin, the others got onto the train and put all the suitcases away. Granny gave Jungkook a final goodbye-hug and a loving kiss on his forehead, then she ushered him to join the other boys. He smiled and got onto the train, searching for his friends. They had a compartment at the far back, with comfortable seats and a nice view. "Kook! Let me look at you, kiddo! I haven't seen you ages, you've almost grown a little!" Namjoon exclaimed as he hugged the youngest tightly. "I missed you, Hyung." Jungkook murmured back cutely, which made the others coo at him. The youngest sat down between Yoongi and Jimin, with Yoongi sitting on the side of the window opposite of Taehyung and Jimin sitting next to the compartment door and opposite of Hoseok, Namjoon in the middle of Taehyung and Hoseok.

They conversed lightly, talking about the summer and what they looked forward to at Hogwarts. At some point Seokjin joined them, squeezing himself between Namjoon and Hoseok. They all ate the sandwiches granny made and joked about Ilhyuk and his stupid gang. Koo Ilhyuk was the same age as Taehyung and Jimin and an awful bully. Their groups of friends often clashed, fights ignited by Ilhyuk's hatred for everything that wasn't Pureblood and his stupidly big and mean companions Dottle and Cabley. But they didn't have to worry about that for now, at least. They arrived at the castle when it was already dark and Seokjin had to leave them again to take care of the new tiny first years. When they got to the castle they were were greeted by Peeves, the most mischievous ghost in the history of Hogwarts (and everywhere, really). Taehyung excitedly waved at him: "Peeves! Peeves, I'm back! How was your summer?" "Good good, Taehyung...it's almost nice to see you again. Now excuse me, I have some fresh meat to scare." The ghost said and floated in the direction of the first years. Shortly after, loud and panicked screams erupted, followed by a panicked Hagrid: "Please calm down! Peeves does that every year, but he's a friendly ghost! That's not a real dragon!" This didn't really make the situation better for the scared first years but then the huge gate opened and they were all "rescued" by an annoyed looking Professor McGonagall. Meanwhile, the boys walked into the great hall, sitting down at their respective tables; Yoongi at the Slytherin table, Seokjin and Hoseok at the Hufflepuff table, Namjoon at the Ravenclaw table and Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook at the Gryffindor table. After the sorting ceremony, they all looked at the front podium expectantly. Dumbledore looked at everyone through his old glasses and said: "I hope you all had a nice summer! For those of you who didn't, don't worry, your time at Hogwarts will make up for that. I proudly greet the new faces, full of curiosity and will to learn! Oh and I have an announcement to make: We have a new teacher for Defence Against The Dark Arts; please welcome Professor Hermann Maier! He's an old friend of mine that travelled all the way from Germany just to teach you guys!" As the pupils applauded excitedly, an about forty year old man stepped onto the podium. He had brown hair that already had a few gray streaks in it, although he didn't exactly look old enough to have those. He wore simple blue jeans and a black button-up t-shirt. His face seemed welcoming with a pair of green eyes and a little too big nose, but he looked like somebody that had seen too much. There was some stubble on his chin, but it seemed like it was there intentionally. "Oh uhm yeah thank you Albus. Well, as mentioned before, I'm Hermann Maier! It's nice to meet all of you and I sincerely hope we have a great time together. Thank you for giving me this great opportunity Albus and thank all of you for welcoming me so warmly!" Professor Maier said and walked back to were he sat between Professor Sprout and Professor Snape. "Let the feast begin!" Immediately after Dumbledore said that, all the tables were filled with food. Quiet chatter broke out as pupils and teachers alike conversed about all kinds of things. Jungkook looked around; Jimin was currently hitting Taehyung with a chicken wing because Taehyung had tried to stick a carrot up Jimin's nose. Again. Jungkook smiled fondly and tried to catch a glimpse of his other friends, but unfortunately he couldn't see them over the swarms of heads moving excitedly. So instead, the young Gryffindor looked at Professor Maier. He seemed to be in a deep conversation with Professor Sprout about god-knows-what. Jungkook didn't know what to think of him. He looked like a nice guy with a genuine interest to teach instead of just torturing them cough Snape cough. But Jungkook decided to keep his guard up, just to make sure. He was looking forward to his first lesson with the new Professor.

After finishing their meals, they all went to their respective dorms. Jungkook was sitting on his bed, sneakily looking at Jimin. The older Gryffindor was only in his black underwear, currently searching for his pajama pants. Jungkook's pretty sure he saw Taehyung walk into the bathroom with them earlier, but Jimin didn't need to know that yet. "Like what you see?" Jungkook's staring wasn't as sneaky as he had thought. His face turned red and he slowly layed down on his bed, whole body turned away from Jimin. If he couldn't see Jimin then Jimin couldn't see him. Yes, that's how things work. Jimin chuckled and said: "You know it's okay to look at me, to touch me, to kiss me. We're together after all. I understand that you're shy, it's really cute honestly, but you don't have to be. Not with me, not with Taehyung either. We'll never make fun of you for that. Tease you a little, maybe, but that's all. I hope you understand that. And now come here, I want to cuddle!" Jungkook smiled shyly as he walked over to Jimin's bed and they both layed down, cuddling up to each other. "Tae took my pants, didn't he?" "Yes." "Goddammit." Speaking of the devil, Taehyung entered the bedroom and, upon seeing the tiny cuddle pile, immediately joined the other two.

"Kim Taehyung I love you but I swear to god that if you stuffed my pants into the shower head again I will end you." Jimin angrily whispered into the darkness of the room. Jungkook felt Taehyung tense behind him and giggled quietly. "I don't think I really thanked you for what you did for me, so...thank you. Seriously, I was so down and then you guys came and made everything better. You're my best friends and I-I love you." Jungkook confessed gently. Both Jimin and Taehyung tightened their holds on the Maknae and let out quiet Aaww's, Don't worry about it's and We love you too's. Needless to say, the youngest fell asleep quickly, with nothing on his mind other than Jimin and Taehyung.

Jungkook woke up in the middle of the night. There was a weird feeling surrounding him, something he had never felt before. Like some sort of tugging sensation, but not like when somebody grabbed your arm or something, it felt different. As if his entire being was gently tugged towards the door. Jungkook felt sluggish and groggy from sleep, he didn't want to get up. The two bodies holding him gently were warm and comfortable. So instead he opted for just sitting up. He looked around the room, but everything seemed normal, he didn't feel scared although he never really fancied the darkness. Suddenly Jungkook heard a laugh, an overexcited cackle. It sounded like it was far away, but the boy could still hear it clearly. Weird, he thought, who the hell is laughing so loudly at this hour? Jungkook wasn't unnerved or anything, the laugh sounded quite nice actually, like an old friend inviting him to play. But Jungkook was tired and comfortable, so instead of further listening to the strange sound and wondering about this weird tugging sensation, he went back to sleep peacefully.

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Author's note: So uhm here's chapter two! I'm sorry that I didn't upload anything in such a long time, I was really busy with school and there's a lot of health stuff going on so yeah. But I hope you enjoyed this chapter! What do you think will happen next? Who was laughing so mysteriously in the middle of the night? The plot is definitely going to pick up speed from here! I'll try to upload the next chapter as soon as possible, but as I said before, I'm really busy and my health doesn't look that good. But I always enjoy writing, so hopefully I can continue to do so for a long time! Hihi, I hope you all have a great day!^^

[maneaterwithtail]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Fangbone! Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Fangbone/Bill Characters: Fangbone, Bill Summary:

La vida en la tierra ha sido relativamente normal para Bill el humano desde que su mejor amigo, el guerrero craneano Fangbone retornó a su planeta de origen, Craneovania. Bill continuó sus días y hoy es un adolescente relativamente normal, hasta que algunos sucesos relacionados a la magia y un extraño suceso astronómico llamado "luna azul" despertarán sus sentimientos más enterrados con respecto a la partida de su amigo hace ya tantos años.

Google translatation below the cut

Blue Moon (One-shot!)

TheGreatGoddessScatagh_Macha Summary: Life on earth has been relatively normal for Bill the human since his best friend, the cranial warrior Fangbone returned to his home planet, Craneovania. Bill continued his days and today is a relatively normal teenager, until some events related to magic and a strange astronomical event called "blue moon" will awaken his most buried feelings regarding the departure of his friend so many years ago.

Notes: Well, to the corridas and everything, but I'm quite happy to finally be able to upload this one-shot of this beautiful series that lately has managed to enter its fandom!

In this fanfic, the headcannon endures that Bill really is good at practicing parkour, since in itself it is not a form of fight and in fact it works quite well with his personality more intelligent than warrior.

Clarified this, I hope you enjoy reading!

Work Text: Calm and darkness reigned in the room, breaking into pieces as the light of the single sun of the earth began to rise on the horizon, beginning the journey of a new day. Suddenly, the impertinent sound of the alarm banished the young head of fire from the dream paradise. Sleepy, he felt out of the warm fortress of his bed and put out the infernal apparatus, grumbling with disgust, got rid of the sheets. The alarm clock read five in the morning.

Determined not to allow the dream a victory, he sat up. The cold of the morning sneaked into the room making him tremble, he kept looking at an indeterminate point of the room, forcing himself not to go back to sleep. As a first task, he dressed in a blue slacks and gray tracksuit pants.

Taking care not to make much noise, he left his room, the hallway of his home was in the quiet silence of dawn, after all it was still too early even for his mother to get up. When he reached the kitchen, he took out the refrigerator and drank orange juice until it was satiated. With her mind still blank, she tied the laces of her slippers, took the mp3 from the table and started her way out.

The cold wind of the morning received him as soft but implacable licks on his face, the music soon began to sprout in his ears, giving him the perfect setting to start his morning run. Slowly the sun began to rise on the horizon, illuminating the world with its soft light, in the wind, the scent of another new dawn. He could see, out of the corner of his eye, his neighbor greeting him as he passed by; He raised his hand, returning the greeting, a big smile on his face as he walked down the sidewalk.

He ran, half way, a place in the past came as an intruder to disturb his thoughts. He observed the small set of land in the middle of the river, under the bridge. The water flowed peacefully between the improvised rock road that led to the rustic entrance, which from the outside seemed a direct hole to some well or dark and damp cave, but he knew, it was really the entrance to a cave where ever , had galleries adorned with swords, forge ovens and skulls of unknown creatures. But now, it was just an abandoned cave, where the dust reigned and perhaps no one, no one but him, could suspect that there was ever glory and life.

He pressed his lips in a grimace of nostalgia at the same time that a voice recalled in his head the name of that place, where in the past there would have been so many adventures.

He shook his head in an attempt to decimate those thoughts and that feeling of regret, finding then a renewed energy to continue with his "training."

Upon entering the city park, lungs burned in his chest, each puff resulted in a burning that ate the inside of his chest, the heart beat like a war machine against his ears, almost succeeding in drowning the music, and his hot body by the exercise began to sweat under the diver. The sun was already high in the sky, even with its light without the characteristic power of midday, playing and creating shadows among the treetops, while the morning wind flooded his entire being.

When she decided that she had achieved her goal today, she let herself fall under a tree, enjoying the heat that the sun slowly gave her between the branches, her reddish, damp hair clinging to her forehead as she felt the fire in her lungs. caused ironically by the freshness of the morning. Slowly he recovered, his lungs calming the itching and burning, his heart leaving the galloping trot of his ears and returning to his chest. Then, like a nocturnal walker lurking in the dark, a thought laden with grief hit with all his might against Bill, bringing to the non-mortal but ancient pain, while his voice rumbled in his head with a reality like a curse. which would never be undone.

Five years.

It had been five years since Fangbone, his friend, his "brother in arms" had returned to Craneovania, after the fall and final triumph over Drool they spent a couple of years fighting the numerous cracks that united their worlds and the deadly creatures, barbarians or assassins that appeared every time one opened. However, with the passage of time the cracks each time decreased in number, which, at first they believed was good, but they continued to decrease, then it was rare the occasion when they saw an open crack or even a creature belonging to Craneovania.

When they noticed, Magical Willow and Bear-ax advised Fangbone the idea that it was time to return home.

Obviously, the young barbarian had not been able to refuse to return, leaving Bill and his friends on earth under the vague promise - at least for Bill - that they would never stop being battle brothers.

No one could blame him, of course. Much less Bill. The young hair of fire understood well the decision of his friend. It was obvious that in the end, Fangbone could not avoid choosing Craneovania over the Earth, even though he wanted to believe, at the time, that the earth and he? It was equally important to the young warrior.

But now things were different. Bill was sixteen years old already, and they were halfway through high school. For his luck, it was not necessary to change the institute he attended. There were some new companions and other childhood friends, even so, this time there were no monsters constantly lurking, waiting for the slightest chance to lower their guard to steal the powerful big toe from some dark and poisonous green sorcerer, who I wished that extremity to complete its plan of the dominion of both planets. No, just normal days and relatively calm compared to that time.

And that was good. Bill had been convinced of that. Now he should not worry about not being strong enough, being hit by trolls, taken prisoner by some multi-eyed monster, having to save his brother from barbarous blood to become a "normal" subject for the rest of his days, or fight against his malignant version because of the crash of a cranial promise that he did not even understand why it involved sucking his fingers.

The last memory of Will made his body tremble, remembering himself so evil, damn skilful and without control of his own body, while an entity born of himself handled him like a puppet, where his own voice and opinion He had no place, using it to hurt his best friends.

God, how he hated Will. I did not want to know anything about dyeing her hair in blue, never-never.

He sighed as he concentrated on the music that had been pounding in his ears for several minutes and which he had forgotten as he immersed himself in the thoughts. Likewise, the lyrics of that song did not serve as a relief for his heart, which was frightened by the passage of time, and accustomed to the pain of abandonment. "We are blood brothers"

No more, not for a long time.

With that dark and heavy thought he sat up, he was refusing to let nostalgia overshadow his humor. For all the trolls, he began to look like his mother, worrying about a boy who would be able to kill him or a colossal beast without sweating or hurting himself at least during the process.

At least Fangbone was fine, though not sure, but happy in Craneovania, probably hunting some kind of strange and dangerous creature to claim another trophy, or fighting with other barbarians. Or hunting trolls to make them into soup while devouring quantities of unhealthy rancid meat for any human being, or confronting the Bear-Clan Leader to the point of getting him mad. That image in his head made Bill laugh, at the end of it all, he always hoped that his brother would be fine ... doing whatever he did.

As their spirits had returned, he sat up again, inhaling deeply to get as much air as he could, and starting a new race back to his home, now even more animated.

He had not yet entered his house when the scent so familiar and beloved from the freshly made waffles caused a snarl in his stomach. He entered the house, entering the kitchen and greeting his mother animatedly, who received him with his usual familiar smile while continuing to cook.

"Did you go running again?"

"That's right, today I broke my own record."

"Really? Haha, that's my son! But ... Bill ... "

His mother served the waffles while giving him a scrutinizing look from head to toe.

"You're all sweaty. You'd better take a bath before going to school. "

"I'll do it after eating your delicious waffles."

A laugh of complicity on the part of the woman was the bell that gave permission to the young redhead to begin to devour the delight of spongy dough known as waffles bathed in that sweet brown liquid. After savoring that delicacy cooked by the gods his mother , he went to the top of his house, locking himself in the bathroom and opening the hot water.

The warm torrent cleared away any regret that had accumulated in those few hours of the day, moving away the bad memories and nostalgia at least for the moment, plunging him into a stupor that almost caused him to arrive late to high school.

He entered his room and quickly began to organize everything to leave before the bus arrived. Clean and with backpack on his shoulder, he walked down the steps with speed and said goodbye to his caretaker before leaving the house on the way to the institute.

The school day continued with normal regularity, however for some reason which was unknown to the school in general was somewhat more shocked than usual. For his luck, it was pizza Wednesday and he had been able, this time, to arrive with enough speed to rejoice with the food. He took a bite of the delicious slice of dough covered with cheese when a familiar figure arrived at his table.

"Hello Bill!"

"Hello Patty"

The young woman took a seat in front of him with her tray, little powders of glitter fell from her black hair adorned with sticky glitter. While those years had served to grow both, the Asian girl's love for glitter was as strong as Bill's love of video games, something they could never completely abandon, or wish to do.

"Do you know why the whole school is like this?"

"What? Do you live under a stone? It's the month of the blue moon! "

"The blue moon?"

I would be lying if I said I was prepared for that news, perhaps because of the fact that the last few weeks I was somewhat self-absorbed in completing exams and projects along with their video games, but I had not heard anything about a blue moon, even in News. Even more, he doubted even that the moon was capable of taking such an unusual tone. He raised an eyebrow as he swallowed another piece of pizza, watching Patty, wondering if he would not indigestion when eating glitter that had occasionally fallen over lunch, or if she was already used to it.

"Every few years, an astronomical event happens, I do not remember what happened, but the moon turns into a beautiful blue color! Is not it amazing? There are even some strange rumors "

While he was limiting this, Patty threw a trail of bluish glitter over their heads and Bill did what was necessary to keep it from falling on his pizza, instead covering his reddish hair with the glitter.

"Strange rumors?"

"Yeah, I do not know, some weird magic or something. Were not you the one who knew about that? "

"Yes ... yes ... that was Patty a long time ago."

"Oh! Right ... I'm sorry Bill. I did not want to bother you. Did you not know anything about Fangbone? "

"No, since five years ago. Anyway, how are you going with that glitter? "

They continued having lunch, Patty quickly grasped the perhaps not so subtle request from Bill to change the conversation. However, that subject regarding the blue moon did not stop returning to his mind during the rest of the day.

He found himself reflecting about it in the afternoon, inside the bus, questioning how much truth there would be about those rumors. Bill always believed that the idea of ​​the moon turning blue was just a rumor, or it would be that when it happened in the past he was even more young and distracted as to get to notice something so irrelevant in his childhood. What if they were not just rumors?

Okay, it was okay, it was not like lately strange things were happening to her with increasing regularity. Because, hey, there was nothing strange about waking up to find that your alarm was flying above your head, then falling and hitting you. Or that the pencil you swore you had left on the desk appeared in your hand when you needed it to complete a task. Yup. Nothing strange here.

Well, maybe it was not quite normal. But they could not blame him, after all, Bill firmly believed that all the remnants of his magic had been swallowed by that horrible Drool-balloon creature. What if that event had something to do with, perhaps, his magic as a sorcerer was not completely lost? For some reason, the vague idea of ​​that hope caused his heart to beat aggressively. The rest of the journey back home could not stay still, and was not even able to stop when entering his abode.

"Holamam, I can not speak anymore, I need to contradict!"

He was not even really sure that his strange greeting had been understandable to the woman, however, he did not notice it when he stumbled on the stairs climbed to the second floor and locked himself in his room.

He turned on the lights, breathing hard, looking around in the disaster that was his room. Dammit! Why was it that he had never been given to order before !? The first thing he did was clear the floor, throwing the messy shirts and pants, along with comics and video games away from the road. Then he stopped to think. I was literally looking for an enormous book of sorcery. Even he, no matter how messy he was, could lose him in a place as small as his room.

He had the idea of ​​first looking under his bed for a silly idea, he had to admit, underneath it and frustrated to find only empty pizza boxes and other dirt, a blue glow from outside caught his attention. Hitting his head as he left, he found that the huge book literally floated in front of him, wrapped in a celestial wake of energy.

"AAAAH! Wait, wait- this is fine, yes, of course. It's okay. Now ... if only I could lower it carefully- "

With a frightful rumble, the huge tome fell to the ground, then bowed like a fallen tree and banged against his desk. He cursed as, straining, he incorporated the colossal glossary.

The rest of that day was spent absorbed inside those pages, looking for anything related to the moon or similar astrological events, however, he found in the early morning the fact that there seemed to be nothing useful for him. Frustrated, he sighed and went downstairs, trying to make as little noise as possible; he had skipped dinner for a stupid idea, and now, his stomach roared with ferocity claiming him for food.

He sat in the dark kitchen, only the dim light from the second floor illuminating the place, while he ate the cold leftovers and pondered. After all, it would be difficult to find anything about astronomy considering that Craneovania had in itself three suns, each with a name from some body part. It was not like it was the same for the earth.

...Just a moment.

Opening her eyes wide at her own epiphany, she hit her head, questioning how it had not occurred to her before, then taking a bottle of juice and running upstairs to her room.

What if the reason why he had not found anything in that tome of sorcerers was, precisely, because in Craneovania there were no similar lunar events? That would explain why there was none of that, since no sorcerer would have been exposed to an event as such before.

So what he had to do was look for information pertaining to the earth, surely there would be information about magic, or at least something that would guide him. For his luck, the largest information portal on his planet was a laptop away.

Under the excuse that he had to study, Bill spent the following days of the week until countless hours of the night and the dawn investigating. He found that, to his surprise, there was a huge community of magic on earth, consisting mostly of witches and wiccans, along with other types of sects. Maybe they were not the type of wizards like Magic Willow, since they did not throw cats in a battle against trolls, but it was the closest thing to them and their best route to find out what happened to their powers, and if they could still use them. He even visited the observatory for more scientific information. He had discovered that, in past ages, the blue moon had been considered as an astronomical event where it was believed that there were two full moons in the same month, however, at present it was considered a strange event that occurred every certain number of years, related to the position of the Earth in its orbit with respect to other planets, and that not only altered the tides, but also that it seemed to have a general effect on the environment among humans and even unusual behaviors had been observed by the humans. animals.

On the internet, he found that for many sects it was considered an event of great astronomical convergence and, therefore, of great energy. Many religions in the past would have used that time as a moment for the realization of the most intricate rituals, given the amount of planetary energy that was accumulated in the earth.

With that information, Bill deduced that perhaps that convergence was what was causing the resurgence of his previously extinct powers. And with that information, he went to sleep.

He was trapped, the corridors seemed to close around him as he put more effort into running. He did not feel the fatigue of the effort, as if his body was able to guide him farther than he had ever dreamed. He felt as if his dreams were fighting against the machines inside his head, like adversaries.

Then a strange door, then the light of torches in an old place, malignant and abandoned. He did not even try to stop before the huge monsters that ran to meet him, he knew he was not strong enough to fight them. He raffled them, sliding away from his fearsome claws. With speed he approached a balcony, jumping over it, and abandoning himself to the void with the assurance that he would be safe.

During the fall, before him, a beautiful landscape was rising. Two beautiful moons, bright in the starry sky of a mountainous land and full of life, illuminating the water that waited beneath its fall.

The water was freezing, but he felt more alive than ever. I was free. A voice, a call from someone who was looking for him. He did not know who he was, but he was looking for him, guiding him to the surface.

He raised his hand above his head, swimming toward the light of the moons. Then he could feel it, a strong and warm grip that took him out of the frozen solitude under the water, receiving him in the warmth of a hug.

Bill woke up screaming, babbling some incoherent words. Tears ran hot down her cheeks, and the pressure in her chest did not allow her to breathe. It felt good, and bad. Pain and happiness, both coexisted in his heart, why did he hurt so much? He did not even remember who was calling him off the surface, in the dream.

So why did he feel so bad, as if he had returned with something or someone he had lost?

Instead of denying the tears, he allowed them to run freely, whimpering for that anguish, and for that being who did not know if he had managed to find him in his dreams. There was no point crying for a dream, and he did not care. The overload of emotions was stronger for his sleepy sense of reason, confused and too tired to understand it. When he finally calmed down, he saw on his alarm clock that it was barely 3:30 am. He collapsed on the bed, exhausted and tired, he was not able to understand that before falling asleep again.

Upon awakening, his whole body ached, he felt as if a huge anvil had been thrown over his body, and it took him several minutes to remember why he was awake. I had the feeling that I had not been able to sleep well. Then he managed to remember that perhaps his powers as a sorcerer were back with him.

That was the only reason why he decided to get up that day as soon as he could wake up enough to think coherently, since he had proposed to try again after so many years. That afternoon in his high school there would be an event with food to observe the moon, and therefore, it was the day when more energy would be available. Sleepy, he yawned as he pondered sitting on his bed. If he wanted to get at least one small result before going to school, then he had to think of a word for his spells.

The phrase "bongopepinillo" came to him, but he discarded it with great speed. Even for him it was rather childish, after all, that had been a random phrase at the first moment when he began using his powers. He gazed around the room, hoping that a new idea would come miraculously to him. Then he saw the CD package of one of his favorite movies "Musculoso II"

Okay, maybe "Muscled" was not the best wizard phrase. I knew, however, anything was better than "bongopepinillo". He sat up and opened the volume of the sorcerer in the first pages, he had decided that the first thing he would try to do would be to levitate something light, like a book or something. He inhaled deeply and concentrated on the realization of the spell, unsure of what he hoped to gain from it.

"Very well ... Here we go, muscular!"

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing, the book on his desk stood there motionless, almost laughing at his misfortune.

He tried again, not even the leaves had moved with a breeze.

"Oh, come on!"

However, he was not going to give up so easily. He kept repeating that on several occasions, one less fruitful than the last. When he was about to give up, he tried one more time.

"Muscular!"

Then, as by some higher force, the book began to shine. It was first a bluish tone, almost imperceptible to his gaze, which intensified until it formed an entire halo around it. Then Bill raised his hand slowly, and gradually the book rose above the surface of the desk.

"Do not joke! Amazing!"

In his hullabaloo he almost dropped the book, and as if it were his most precious possession, he kept it floating a few centimeters above the ground.

Its powers. He had powers.

I still had powers !!

Weak, it was true, but they were there, dormant waiting to be used.

"Whojoooo!"

Unable to contain himself anymore, he shouted a shout of pure joy into the air as he leaped energetically. And then the book, which was still under his control, shot out around the room, throwing to the floor several boxes of video games and other belongings, to end up crashing into the head of the redhead, who fell to the floor of his room with a huge noise, growling because of the pain.

The last thing he saw was the roof of the place, illuminated by the morning light, and then he noticed his alarm clock on the night table, marking seven thirty in the morning.

Seven thirty.

... he was late for school.

Profiling an endless number of words that her mother would have reproached, she sat up violently and quickly dressed herself with the first thing she found at hand, cursing herself for becoming so absorbed in her new powers as for forgetting her schedules.

However, that day had been absurdly good. It did not matter if a locker had fallen on him, Bill felt encouraged as in a long time he did not remember doing it. I waited anxiously for a child to come in the afternoon, to conclude classes to go to the school playground, even if it was just to do something as simple as sit and wait for the moon to appear. Nothing could that day take away the hopeful and triumphant smile on her face, even if she got repeated calls for attention from the teacher, as she was with a drowsy and idiotic look in class when she should be paying attention.

He did not care. His powers were back, and that was enough for him.

Finally he was reunited with his companions and friends in the courtyard. The aroma of grilled hamburger meat filled the air, along with the music and the light conversation of the growing group of people. Even the teachers had decided to attend. For several hours I wait with a strange feeling fluttering in his stomach. He was undoubtedly nervous. His cold, sweaty hands trembled with emotion, and he smiled like a fool. What would happen? What if a portal opened? That was not possible, right? And even if it happened, I could not even tell if it was a Craneovania portal.

Even with all these insecurities, he found himself with a great hope that something would happen that night. I could feel it. Even his friends told him that he was even more cheerful than he already was.

The night came closed, and just for that occasion, I had even heard the rumors that they had agreed at the city hall to turn off most of the lights, for a better perception of the show. So the stars slowly came to be seen in the sky, illuminating it as Bill never remembered having appreciated before, only in the observatory. And yet, the white glow that tinted the darkness of the sky seemed even more special than usual, then the young redhead allowed himself to let his heart light up.

The moon appeared.

In the open night sky, the huge platinum star began its ascent through the darkness, which like two deep claws, born from the ocean, dispersed before its arrival.

His heart beat against his chest as if he had run a marathon for several hours. Slowly, the hours passed in the celebration while the moon took its place as the sole ruler of the night. Then it began to be dyed a subtle blue that then ended up engulfing the platinum color, merging with it. The people who had attended were silent, as if consumed by that supernatural beauty. His legs trembled and he might have fallen if it was not because he was leaning against a wooden bench.

The beautiful stele of celestial color was consumed in the center of the moon, and it expanded strongly, decimating itself in the night sky while the star remained of that color, dominating the skies.

Triumphant cries were heard from most of the people, while others took pictures and some others drank.

But Bill just felt cold.

That was all? And if so, then what was he waiting for? Did he think what, that there was going to be a huge portal through which Fangbone might enter, and he would apologize for leaving just like that so long ago? Was that really what he was waiting for, like a damsel waiting for his savior?

His body shuddered, this time not with joy, but with emptiness. He felt a void in his chest that threatened to swallow all light and hope he had imagined, even in the part he would never admit. A lump in his throat threatened to carry the tears and drop them, angry with himself.

She said goodbye to her friends, claiming that her mother would worry if she did not get home soon. It was a lie, he just wanted to walk. Walk and feel alone. Had he really been so naive?

While walking in the cool and deep world of the night, illuminated by those celestial rays, that guided him in the dark. Yes, it was true that his powers were back, but he knew, deep inside, that this was not what he had expected to happen.

He was an idiot.

He was an idiot for waiting for Fangbone to return, or for even hopeful about it. He was an imbecile to be deluded. His life on earth was good, he was sure of that. So, why did he want it back? He was angry at him, angry at leaving him, at choosing Craneovania above all they had lived.Even if a part of him knew well that this was not true, he did not want to think about that. I just wanted to be angry and frustrated.

"Hey boy, where are you going?"

"Leave me alone."

He had not even noticed that a group of boys until he heard their voices, probably older than him, had passed by his side on the way. I had noticed the smell of alcohol and cigarettes coming from them.

"I heard, we're talking to you, you little fool. So you talk to your elders? "

He cursed them inside. He stopped his step, turning to see them in the darkness. There were at least three subjects. Slowly the blood began to pump through his body, the hair on his body bristling at the thought of the threat approaching him.

"M -... look guys, I do not want problems. I do not have the phone on me, I do not have anything of value. Voucher? We do not have to fight "

"Oh? And who was talking about a fight? We just want to talk to you boy. You are very brave to go out alone at night. "

I hated it. The tone of voice, the voice itself of that subject disgusted him. He was angry, angry at those subjects for not leaving him alone, angry at Fangbone for abandoning him so long ago, and not even trying to contact him at any time, angry about always having to run, being the brain and still the weakest in front of others. He could not contain himself when the words sprang from his mouth.

"Then leave me alone, damn it!"

The moment he finished saying that, he regretted it. They did not need any more words, he could see that evil and ruthless tint in the eyes of those subjects. At a speed that his slowed brain could not comprehend, his body had already turned and he was running as fast as he could.

Behind him he heard the screams of his attackers, hunting him as if it were an animal. Inhaling, he ran faster, trying to think of some way to lose sight of them.

He turned into a corridor between buildings and houses, passing by some trash cans and throwing them along the ground. He heard the clang of metal against the ground as he pulled away, throwing behind him anything that worked as an obstacle, yet his attackers kept up the pace. He turned a corner, finding several meters ahead a huge wooden fence in front of him. Dammit!

Seeing no loopholes, he increased the capacity of his impulse and jumped, climbing over some garbage cans and taking a long stride towards a container. He almost lost his balance in the bullfight, mating all his strength to stay on his feet, and propelling himself. He held on to the fence, lifting his hips and his legs danced in the air, falling from the other side with a big bang.

His whole body ached, he was too agitated to repair the damage. Sitting up awkwardly, he continued running until his lungs burned and his legs gave way to exhaustion.

He stopped at the corner of a street, drowning in his own breath. He coughed, inhaling heavily.

"There is no longer where to flee, child."

He turned violently, two of the subjects had been left behind, however, the one that seemed his leader had been able to hunt his trail yet and when he was sure he had run at least ten blocks.

Then he noticed the celestial light that illuminated the dark face of his attacker, and remembered the moon.

Moon. Its powers. I could use them!

But I was barely able to lift a book without causing a disaster ...

Perhaps, what I needed was just to cause a disaster.

He concentrated on his powers, without even really being sure what he wanted to achieve, then concentrated on not killing the man accidentally.

"Come on, come on, you can! You have to do it!"

"Wow ... you're really weird, are not you?"

He could feel what he believed was the magic flowing inside him, like a huge pulse pulsing in his chest, purging out. He concentrated on directing it through his hands.

" MUSCLE! "

A huge torrent of blue energy erupted from his body, heading in the direction of the man. Then a wheel flew out of a nearby car and threw the subject against the asphalt. Bill focused on him, surrounding his entire body with the wake of energy.

Sweat dripped down his face, hitting his hair to his face, the scrapes and blows hurt him and his chest burned with a force that had never felt, at least not since he fought against the monsters of Drool. Suspending him, he moved the subject through the air, who did not stop screaming and insulting to be lowered, and threw it, stopping to strike against a lamppost.

The wake of celestial magic slowly disappeared, the young head of fire fell on one of his knees, although both ached from the previous fall in his unfortunate encounter with the fence.

His attacker remained motionless on the ground, completely knocked out. Bill sighed in relief. When his legs were strong enough to keep him on his feet, he started on his way, he was not far from home.

As he walked the adrenaline began to diminish, and then he could have a notion of the wounds scattered on his body. In general, the damage was not so great. His knees were bleeding from the fall, he had numerous scrapes and bruises, and probably tomorrow parts of his body would ache that he did not know he used when walking ... or breathing. Apart from that, he was fairly well.

Then he remembered why he was angry before. However, that feeling did not last long in his heart, as he soon began to have the growing feeling that he was still being watched. He looked around, there was no one in sight. He stopped to sharpen his hearing, unable to listen to anyone, he came to fear hearing in the distance the voices of the subjects who had tried to rob him, but in truth he did not hear anything.

If he thought about it, confronting them verbally and then running away had not been the best of his plans in a long time. Likewise, even if he had tried to reason, he probably would not have been unharmed without at least one good hit on his face and ribs, so even if it was not the best, he preferred that to being intimidated by a group of imbeciles. And the event with the car wheel was a huge demonstration that his sorcerer's powers were with him, that Drool had not left him empty of magic. Maybe now he could use them like he did not at the time.

But he could not shake the instinct that now, it was someone's new prey, or something.

So consumed was he in his thoughts, lost in thought, that he did not even notice the gentle flow of water under the river that ran beside him, he did not even notice that place so familiar to him. He could not feel it, because at that moment he swore that a shadow had passed close to him.

He turned around, tired of that situation. He would walk across the bridge to get to his house, and if that involved facing another thief or a huge dog or what the damned universe had him, then he would.

Arriving at the stone bridge he walked over it, noticing again that entity that used its agility to stay hidden among the shadows that the faint light of the blue moon did not reach to illuminate. He stopped halfway, closing his fists.

"Alright, I'm fed up! Whoever it is, or whatever, leave me alone! I had a lot for a day fighting with those morons! Just attack me and y- .. "

He did not finish his sentence, since when he turned to finish speaking, holding a sword that shone with softness and sharpness, a huge human figure, illuminated by the bluish light, stood at the other end of the bridge, observing him.

[iraniq]

Time

Warning: right in the feels! I am serious!

I was yet again drifting through my great grandma’s childhood pictures. There was this one … she must have been like 5 or 6. In a park, and on the far right bench there was man sitting. As a child I used to joke I was gonna marry him, although I had no idea who he was, nor does my great grandma … just some random person forever caught on this photo.

But today was the day … I am gonna be 25 this year – the end of the month. A while ago my dad make his time travel machine work. It was his passion since forever… but he never used it for longer than one “jump” back in time, one precious jumped, that saved us all, but he feared this will ruin something … like the time line, space continuum and shit like this … If it was even possible, he won’t be able to build it at first place!

I was gonna secretly use it to go back in time and meet this person. I can go only 3 times – that’s the amount of “jumps” a body can handle. At least 7 days time between travel. The first one will be at the park when my grandma was a child, to ask who he is, and stuff … after this I was gonna go earlier… to find him. Because on this photo he was obviously old already.

First “jump” – 10. 11. 2061

-        Here we go. - I set the date - month - year - location - perfect time. I left the picture on the stand next to the machine. - Let’s ride!

I “woke up” sitting on a bench … nearby. I walked in the park. I knew the place as I knew the back of my hand. I have seen million of pictures of it! I saw my great granny running around, or it is to say the 5-year old version of her. Future technology have the opportunity to extend life, and later to load the mind in an android body, so she was still … present. Not that all the people if 21-st century liked it!

And there I saw him. Alone on the bench with a book, looking in the nowhere. I rushed and stopped in front of him. His gaze stopped at me. Looking, he smiled, I must have been red as a potato.

-        I am sorry, but I know you form somewhere -        I doubt that, Love. – he smiled, his bright blue eyes, got darker. -        No, I am sure ... – I insisted and sat next to him. I “appeared” after the photo, so it was ok to sit there. – My … grandma… I am sure I saw you on some of her pictures. Were you classmates?

He looked down. Then at me again. Smiling lightly. He was indeed older than he looked, his eyes gave him away, so much sorrow. Suddenly he lighten up.

-        Maybe in college? Where does your grandma took the picture? -        Am … - I looked at my “grandma” playing in the sand. – In a park. – I smiled. -        There wasn’t much parks in Louisiana back then. – he chuckled. -        Really? -        Yeah … back in the 90’s … were you … - he looked at me and smiled. You were not born back then. - He laughed, and fixed his hair. Was he nervous? - Maybe in the Art University … when I was studying art? -        I have no idea… - I shrugged. How am I supposed to ask him stuff for when he was young without being suspicious. – When was this exactly … -        Oh, that’s a tough one! – he laughed. - I barely remembered what I ate last night.

He then looked at me warmly and got silent for a while. He got his book, there was a piece of paper inside, a drawing maybe … After some awkward silence he told me for this one time in school. A funny story. But this was exactly what I needed. Date, month, year, time! We talked for a while more. I excused myself for bothering him, but he just waved and smiled.

-        I am sorry if I disturbed you. Were waiting someone? -        I am not anymore.

Poor man, he looked so sad. How can someone as beautiful as him, be so sad? He was in his 50’s maybe. But was still ravishing. It was obvious for everyone. The young and even the elderly women had hard time looking away from him, and he was just sitting there, alone … in sadness.

Every trip had it’s time length! The first one was 24 hours. The second 12, and the last 6! I had like 23 hours to walk around and get familiar with the surroundings. After my time was out I was gonna go back. I had this liquid crystals I had to drink before “jumping” otherwise I was gonna stuck in time. And I didn’t want to live in the boring past, as I have such amazing plans for my future!

My time was up! I was brought back in, with horrible migraine, and a will to die. It took me 2 days to get better. After this I planned my trip back. I chose some clothes, so I can properly fit in and prepared myself again.

Second “jump” – 17. 11. 2061

Date – Month – Year – Location – Time

It was right after the funny prank he and his friend pulled on another classmate of theirs; they were supposed to be in the school cafeteria.

I entered the place. It was full of loud young people. I sat at the bar and looked around. After 10 min I managed to locate him … there he was. In his full glory! A young boy, in the beginning of his adulthood. He was maybe 19, or so. Definitely a “player”, that’s how my granny used to call boys who dated girls for sport.

I smiled at him. And he looked away. But just for a second, as he kept staring at me. 

After 10 more minutes he sat next to me.

-        Hi! – he was chewing on some meat. Gross, people back then used to eat meat. -        Hi … -        You are new! -        Is it this obvious? – I pull some hair away of my face. -        Yeah, you look innocent, and here is full of two faced people, come on! – he took my hand and walked towards the exit. -        What about your friends? -        They are lame! Wanna hear about the prank we just made? -        Yeah … -        So, there was this super rude boy, like … having fun on girls, you know … and we, like … am … - he scratch the back of his neck, looking for words. – We … -        Prank him? -        No, yes … We, slipped some mud all over his new suite. And today are the album photos. -        Aw … nice, I guess. -        Yeah, I’ll probably be expended from school again, but who cares. It sucks anyway. - He got out a cigarette. Oh no! I’ve seen this in an old healthy file. – Want some? -        No, thank you! – he looked disappointed.

My stomach growled – side effect of “jumping”

-        Hungry? -        Yeah … where can I eat for 5? – even with my dad being top scientist, this is the only thing I managed to find, as a money from the ancient times. -        It’s ok, I’ll buy you something. -        No, I have money! -        Shush, don’t yell, someone may rob you.

Oh, crimes, so sweet. We haven’t had crimes in 55 years!

-        Ok … -        Come on! - he turned left into a small street. - This guy there owns me a favor. 

We stopped in front of a “hot dog” place. Odd, I have no idea what this is. He bought two of these, he got extra stuff on it. And gave me one.

-        Ugh … - I spit it out – it tastes like shit. -        Yeah I know … I am considering going vegan. -        What’s stopping you? -        It’s expansive to leave a healthy life, and money … don’t exactly grow on trees around here. -        So … - I kept on eating, it was going to be extremely rude to throw the food away. – tell me something about you? He just laughed. -        Come on, you bought me food! -        The name’s Jared. – he looked questioning. That was the moment when I was supposed to say mine. -        Ava. -        Pretty name!

He kept eating and staring at me.

-        Wanna go for a ride? -        Ha?

He dragged me to his car. A Car! I always wanted to try one as a child but thy weren’t safe enough.

-        Is this save enough? -        Yeah … yeah! Why?

-        Just asking? -        Are you from Europe, you people are nuts. – he laughed. The most adorable laughter ever!

We drove around the city, talking laughing. He was indeed amazing. His pretty features. His smile, his eyes … I could drown into them. He shared his dreams with me – he wanted to be an artist, paintings music … why not acting. Anything that will allow him to express his free will and also himself. Anything that will inspire people to be strong as his mother was when him and his brother were children, and she saved them. Such pretty visons and dreams. He wasn’t very good at words, not that he was stupid, just … not very experienced in talking with people.

He drove me to a woods on a cliff a little bit out of the city to watch the sunset. It was amazing view. Since we put a shield to guard us form the sun radiation, there was no color in the sky. But there were no skin deceases and allergies, also cancer was gone. So colors were ok to sacrifice.

-        What about you? – he was driving back to the city, it was night already. -        What about me? -        Hey … don’t be like this? -        Like what? -        Like … you know! Tell me about you? A mysterious girl, you just appear form nowhere, like … alien! -        Ha! – I laughed, he was so right – Well … I … I wanna help my dad, he is a scientist. He … is having this project, I am kinda helping him, and if it worked, he will help a lot of people. -        Really? That’s cool … what’s the project? -        I can’t tell you. -        Come on! You can tell me anything! I won’t tell, I promise. -        I can’t, I am sorry. – it’s a cure for death - nano cells in human bodies, so we can live forever. -        No, it’s ok. It’s personal, I get it. – he turned the radio on. -        It’s … health project. -        Like …. Hospital health. -        Yes. -        Cool, I hope he will succeed. -        Yeah, me too. -        Oh man, this song is amazing. – he turned the volume on. The quality of the music was below horrible, but he enjoyed it. Singing along. It was about dreaming … more than a feeling?

He stopped the car in front of a small house.

-        I get you have no where to stay. -        Is this where you live?

He looked at his feet laughing.

-        Don’t worry I won’t hurt you or something. I came here to work sometimes, so I have the key for the house.

-        Isn’t this a …

-        What ... we won’t steal anything. Besides that I know how bad is to have no place to stay. Just for tonight I promise.

We got in. It was cozy and clean. He made some popcorn and we watched TV. So many radiation from these machines, and they had no idea. He didn’t said a word, just put his hand on mine, and kept it like this. No words, no … nothing, just gently rubbing his fingers in mine. His skin was so soft. At some point the TV changed color and stopped working with loud sound. We burst in laughing … and then he kissed me. Kissing is weird. It looked cool on the old movies, but in real isn’t that nice. It’s … wet, and awkward. I pulled back not knowing what to do. We don’t kiss anymore in my time. Everyone have their own “immortality juice” so no kisses were allowed.

-        Sorry … - he licked his lips – I didn’t … -        No, it’s fine … -        You … like … you haven’t been kissed before? -        No! – I laughed. -        Wanna try again?

With this smile of his there was no way any power on Earth to stop me from agreeing. He kissed me again. This time slower, allowing me to breath between kisses. I chuckled and he laughed. He pet my hair, and then he pulled me closer, and squeezed me in himself. At some point, the neighbor’s dogs started barking and we had to shut the lights off. We moved upstairs to find a place to sleep. We kept on talking, as he allowed himself to rub his nose in mine, or to kiss my neck, depends on how we were lying. We fell asleep.

I woke up in the basement. My 12 hours were finished.

-        Fuck! – I puked on the floor, collapsing.

I woke up again with my face buried in my own vomit. Super gross. I cleaned up everything and went to my health booth to check myself.

-        Fuck! I have to go again!

Third “jump” – 24. 11. 2061

Date – Month – Year – Location – …

I appeared at the Art University couple of months later of the moment we met. It took me 4 of 6 hours to find him. Apparently he was a real deal. I almost got beaten up, by a girl for being his “bitch”. He lived the bad boy live at full. He was grounded, for smoking weed, being drunk all the time … who was he, what happened?

-        J? – I yelled when I saw him. He was in the basement, grounded, but this doesn’t seem to stop him of drinking and smoking. -        Fuck! – he throw his cigarette at me.

-        What happened to you. -        Fuck … Ava the alien!

-        What? -        You look the same … just like 4 years ago when we met …

His gaze was blur, he was high and also drunk. Did he just said 4 years? 4 years! What have I done?

-        What the hell happened to you? What about your dreams, your ... future… -        My brother is in jail … there is no future for me … -        No … - I sat next to him. – It’s going to be fine … -        The world is falling a part Eve … -        Ava! -        Whatever, man …

His eyes were empty … he looked at me.

-        You left me! … That night. I never felt anything like this … and you just left without a note … without anything … -        I … -        I am sorry ... I was poor … I was … lame, and stupid ... -        No you weren’t … -        I wasn’t good enough … of course you left me …  I am unworthy for a pure creature like you! - he just looked away. -        No I didn’t leave you. I came back for you. -        No … - he pushed me away. – If you wanted to be back you were gonna go back the other day … you what, got lost? -        I couldn’t come earlier I am so sorry … - I almost cried. – I couldn’t … I was unable … the time … that’s are the rules! -        What? … Why? What rules? Who’s rules? On Mars! – he yelled. -        I am so … -        Sorry! After I shared my dreams with you … after … I told you how all the people in my life just left me … you did exactly the same! – he hit hard on the table. He was a gown up man already and this was scary. My 7 days were 4 years in his time. 4 years! -        Please! Let’s run away form here, it’s my birthday today! -        I know … I … remember. – he got calm. -        Please! – I got a hold on his jacket, he was a lot taller than me now. -        Ok … -        No … weird foods, please. -        I am vegan now, well since couple of months, but … -        Cool! – I smiled.

We got out through a window, at the back of the building. we settled in a park. This time I got a clock with me - 90 min. We were walking in silence, holding hands.

-        J … I wanted … -        I love you!

I gasped.

-        I really do … I am so sorry I yelled at you. We just … clicked so well together, and you listened to me … without judging … and you understood me. No complaining. Like we are made for each other …

-        J … -        Stay with me, Ava. Stay this time. I have a job, and … a place … it’s not much, but. I was looking for you, I even draw pictures of you … - he got some drawings of his pocket, and another one from his wallet, his hands were shaking. – My brother joked you were an alien, because you were nowhere to be found …

-        Why is he in jail? -        He attacked a guy, but they will release him tomorrow. I’ll go to pay the bill. I looked in awe. -        So … what you say? – eyes to drown in. -        Take me to your place!

It took us 40 min. with the public transport, we got in the rush hour. It was a small room with 2 beds and bathroom, an old oven and a little locker. He sat on one of the beds. Looking at me. These so amazing blue eyes, were now rather gray …

-        J, I …

He simply smiled.

-        I know! – he looked at his feet. -        No you don’t! -        I was your one time stand. -        No you weren’t! – I kneeled in front of him. 20 min.

He smiled again. Have you ever seen blue eyes got dark, because I did, twice.

-        No listen, I came back for you! -        Yeah … -        No, Jared, listen … I came back for you. To tell you it wasn’t just a thing back then …

He looked with eyes full of hope.

-        I came in this cafeteria … to look for you. -        But you didn’t knew me back then. -        That’s not exactly true … I knew you since I was a child. You were on a picture of my great grandmother – 15min. – I kinda met you. We met 2 weeks ago … but in the future. -        What … - he got up. - Are you nuts? Is this your excuse? -        Yes, and it’s not an excuse! I am an alien, but from the future! I got back in time! We met in LA around 2020. You were at a park near the botanic garden, my grandma was taken a picture there and you were on it, but you were old …

He tried to walk away, but I stopped him.

-        I talked to you back then, you were sitting alone on a bench – 10min. – you told me you did this prank on this boy, in the gum! – I cupped his face – you didn’t tell me this the last time. -     ��  You could have heard it anywhere! – he got away. -        The project I am helping my dad is a cure for death, including a time machine, he went back in time and stop the science, a particular moment that happened in 2035, a plague, it killed 68% of the people.

He looked rather shocked.

-        It worked. But it was one time thing because he almost died we are not supposed to use it! And I used it without permission to come and find you! Because I love you! Don’t you get that! Time travel is a killer, and I came anyway, because you are my last piece of happiness. – 5 min. – Because I love you Jared!

He blinked in silence.

-        Where we met? - his voice was emty now. -        At the cafeteria … -        No, in the future … are you ok?

I was shaking. I was out of time.

-        Los Angeles. A park near the botanic garden! -        2020? -        Yes! -        And you will look exactly like this? -        Yes! -        Ava the alien! -        Yes … - I cried. -        I am gonna wait for you! I promise, Love …

I woke up in the chair. I cried, and cursed, and kicked and broke stuff … anything I could find. All the people used to say I looked a lot like my great grandmother, even as a child.

He kept his promise, “accidentally” giving me anything I needed so we can meet for a first time in the right moment … back in the past. Our doomed future … I can’t go back, I can’t stay here either, in my own time ... Ava the alien! I quickly took the picture. It was like 2 weeks and a lot of years ago, but I’ve never felt more alive! Color wasn’t the only thing we lost in our perfect world …

____________________

@diyunho @rhina988 @nikkitasevoli @auntiemama1 @sookieblack12 @spillinginkwithlove @cadeathens @fanalityfiction @jayded-reality @lady-grinning-soul-k @lylabell2013 @lostnorthofheaven @leto-madness @heavenlygaga @lg1130 @elliegrace139 @lovermrjoker

[mirkwoodshewolf]

A baby creature; Newt Scamander x reader

This idea has been going around my head for awhile and now I’ve finally taken the time to write it down.  I hope you guys enjoy my second Newt Scamander oneshot and hope it fills your day with nothing but teeth-rotting fluff. 

______________________________________________________

It started like any normal day. Newt and I woke up and had breakfast before heading down into his case to care for his creatures.  While he was feeding the Occamies, I went over to the Graphorn habitat.  I let out an animal cry and soon the male came running up towards me.

“Hello Adam, hey there big guy. How are you?” I stroked the side of his head while his tentacles gently kissed me all over my face.  “How’s Eve doing?” Adam and Eve were the last Graphorns in existence and if Newt and I hadn’t found them when we did, that could’ve been the end of them forever.  

Now we breed the two of them whenever Eve’s in heat to hopefully rebuild the Graphorn population and right now I had found out a couple weeks ago that she was gonna have her second set of babies.

He gurgled and grunted at me before leading me towards their den where I knew Eve was sitting at getting her rest.  As I entered inside the den and saw Eve along with her first two children Isaac and Betty who were playing next to their mother.

“Hey there Eve, how you feeling?” I approached her cautiously and she allowed me to get right up to her and I gently touched her face which made her gurgle out a purr. “Now let’s check you out ole girl huh?” I then began to take her vitals and seeing how her pregnancy was coming along.

I wrote down everything onto my notepad so I could give them to Newt later.  Once I was done and had given her the all clear, I suddenly took notice of her leaning towards my stomach and her tentacles gently poked and prodded my stomach which made me giggle softly as I gently pushed her away.

“Alright you silly girl, well you’re healthy and it seems your next little one or little ones will come in a just a few more weeks”.  I then gave them all some meat for them when I heard Newt’s voice say.

“You’re so good with them”.  I smiled and said.

“Well I did learn from the best”.

“Now, now Mrs. Scamander flattery will get you nowhere”.

“Why Mr. Scamander, you are forward”

“You have no idea”. He brought me into his arms and the two of us kissed passionately as he picked me up bridal style making the two of us laugh and he walked out of the Graphorn desert habitat and brought me over to the hut.  “So any new updates on our Eve?”

“Got them all right here for you”. I held out my notepad and he immediately took it and began to read over them before heading inside the hut to jot down the notes in his book.  I smiled then I turned towards Frank’s enclosure.

Frank the beautiful Thunderbird came off his perch and landed before the small rock formation right at the edge of his enclosure.  I smiled and slowly held out my hand and allowed him to nuzzle his beak into my hand and I soon stroked through his soft, beautiful feathers.

“Hey there Frank. How’s my best boy doing huh?” Frank chirped then suddenly his behavior began to change.  He tilted his head side to side as the feathers along his neck ruffled up.  At first I thought he was going to start being aggressive but he then nuzzled right into my stomach and placed a protective wing around me chirping and screeching lowly but lovingly.

“Alright love you ready Tina and Queenie are expecting—” When Newt saw Frank with a protective wing around me, he got curious as well.  “Umm do you know—?”

“No idea, but umm—do you mind helping me out here?” Newt smiled then he held out a mouse for Frank and when Frank took notice of it, his wing opened up allowing me to escape as Newt tossed it into the air and Frank caught it with his beak before flying back to his perch and ate his breakfast.

“You alright?”

“Yeah I’m fine, all he did was just wrap his wing around me. But the feathers around his neck ruffled like how it happens when he starts to show signs of agitation but he didn’t attack me, thought it did give me a bit of a scare”.

“Well I’m here now. Now come on, Queenie will not stop pestering me for us to hurry up and get over there and see the new improvements to Jacob’s bakery”.

“Oh yeah, I was also promised to some new pastries he’s been experimenting on”.  I then took his hand and dragged him out of his case and the two of us got around then headed out of our motel and headed over to Queenie and Jacob’s place. 

When we were arrived, we were both greeted by Queenie herself.  She hugged the two of us before Jacob came in and welcomed us as well as Tina.

“Well long time no see, how have you two been?” asked Tina.

“We’ve been good. How about you Tina?” I asked.

“Well MACUSA has definitely been keeping me busy but nothing I can’t handle”.

“And how about you Newt? Any word on your book?” asked Jacob.

“Well I’ve just received word from our old school Hogwarts and the Headmaster has agreed to have the book become a required material for the Caring for Magical Creatures class”.  Queenie, Tina and Jacob cheered and all hugged Newt in congratulations then Queenie said.

“Oh this calls for a celebration, (y/n) you mind coming into the kitchen and help me out with some of the drinks”.  I nodded then the two of us went to the kitchen while Newt, Tina and Jacob went into the living room to talk some more.

As I got out the tea kettle I soon took notice of a female collie sitting at the corner of the kitchen with a male collie sitting right beside her.

“Aww, who are these two cuties?”

“Oh those are our Border collie dogs, the black male is Shadow and the female’s name is Lola, Lola is actually expecting puppies pretty soon”.

“Really? How far is she?”

“Uhh—eight weeks. She’s due anytime next week”.

“Aww I know that feeling, our Graphorns Adam and Eve are pregnant with their second litter. Seems both our creatures will be expecting this lovely spring season”.

“Indeed”.  As Queenie and I prepared the tea as well as some apple pie, as I was cutting some apples the muggle way, Queenie was sitting on the chair across from me and she said as she stared at her two Border collies, “it’s unmistakable isn’t it sweetie?” I looked up at her before turning to her dogs and Queenie continues so poetically, “Even though she’s a dog, she has that look that every woman gets when she knows she’s gonna be a mother. Notice how tranquil she is. Her eyes are soft and warm. Though you might not see it, you can certainly feel that she’s smiling. It’s the smile we wear, when we’re guarding a precious secret. And now that she’s living for others as well as herself, she’s eating more. And every now and again, for no reason other than she’s so happy with herself, she sighs”.

I sighed deeply as I admired Lola before as I ate a piece of an apple.  She then stood up from her blanket filled basket and walked right up to me like she’s known me her whole life and just sat there happily. I stroked her head and said.

“Your right Queenie, Eve’s been looking the same way. They’re both practically glowing”. Queenie looked at me in brief shock before a wide smile came across her face before letting out a soft giggle. “What is it Queenie?” I saw her look to her dog Lola and the female collie nodded then Queenie turned to me and said.  

“(Y/n) sweetie, you and Newt are going to have a little creature of your own”. 

What? 

My mouth gaped open before my eyes rolled in the back of my head and I fainted.  When I came around, I noticed I was on Queenie’s couch with Newt sitting right over me dabbing a rag across my face.

“What happened?”

“Queenie told me you fainted in the kitchen, what’s wrong are you okay?” I then thought back to what Queenie said and she looked at me with a smile telling me in my mind to tell Newt what she had just told me.

“Umm Newt, can we talk?”

“Yes of course darling, you can always talk to me about anything”.  I slowly sat up as Newt kept mothering me to sit up slowly.  Once I was fully up, I took Newt’s hand and said.

“Newt, turns out Adam and Eve aren’t going to be the only ones having a litter”.

“I know, Jacob had told me about his two new dogs and they’re about to have a litter of puppies”.

“I know I met them, but they’re not the only ones having a litter Newt,” I then took his hand and placed it on my stomach and Newt began to process what I was hinting at.

“R-re-really? You’re sure?”

“Queenie just told me, and that would explain why our creatures were acting the way they did this morning, even Lola came up to me and laid her head right down on my lap even after just seeing me for the first time”.  Newt’s smile went all the way up to his eyes as he cheered and embraced me as well as lifting me up and twirling me around, the two of us laughing out merrily. 

We were going to have a baby. 

*FF nine months later*

I was lying on my hospital bed and after nine hours n labor, we welcomed Iris Alexandra Scamander to the world.  Newt sat by my side and he whispered.

“How did we ever make something so beautiful?”

“I have no idea Newt, but I love her too much”.

“I promise, I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her, I will be a better man for her sake”. Her tiny fist had taken Newt’s index finger.

“And for me?” I asked as I turned to him.

“I’m already a better man because of you”. We both smiled at each other as Newt kissed my forehead and the two of us laid there in silence enjoying this new family moment.

[eittiedouglas]

In The Rose Petals | Past | Eittie & Alistair Douglas 

‘Seanair! I found one Seanair!’

The soft child’s voice rose from the garden bed at the back of the small plot of land, barely audible by the rush of the river not far away. The clouds were hanging low, trapping in the warmth on the early July day. The valley was thick with humidity but there was a lingering sense of rain on it’s way, just something in the air sweeping down from the mountains. The carefully laid vegetable beds were blooming with overgrowing plants, weighing heavy on their carefully constructed frames and the baskets littered around the place were filling up with the mornings work of harvesting from the small backyard garden. ‘What have ye found, ma wee a bhobain?’ The tiny girl appeared around the corner of one of the planet boxes, hands and arms covered with the moist Scottish soil, a courgette, almost as long as her chubby arm, hanging from her tightly grasped fingers. 

Still not used to Gaelic or able to fully wrap her still developing tongue around the sounds, her face screwed up a little as she tried to translate his word, grinning when she did. ‘Am no a rascal, Seanair! I’ve found dinner!’ Eittie’s little dress floated about as she skipped to the nearest basket, putting her find in it. The pockets on the front of the dress were filled with little leaves and stones and a half eaten ham sandwich from lunch time. Laughing, the older man took reached out for his Granddaughters hand, taking it gently and leading her back to the courgette plant. ‘It’s important we harvest them all, a bhobain, so more can grow.’ Crouching down to the little girls level, he carefully showed her how to break the stems without damaging the plant, warmly telling the little girl all about the colour and the type of plant, Eittie’s dirty little hands pressed to his knee while she peered in close to look at it, enraptured with her Grandfather’s words. 

It was a rare day since the move to Scotland that she had not woken up crying. At first the shock of having to move had exhausted her, but as the dust had settled, so too had the grief, settling into them both like an ache of old and tired bones. Still, as the summer had come along so had better nights sleeping and the little girl had opened up more and more to her new home, especially the garden. Carefully, they placed the last of their veggie harvest in the baskets and Eittie skipped to the tap to wash her hands, stopping by the large creeping rose and pointing up at it. ‘Can we pick some for my room, Seanair?’ ‘Of course, just be careful.. let me do it aye? The wee pricks will get ye.’ Laughing, Eittie watched her Grandfather pull out the secateurs, clipping ten or so pink blooms from the bush and carefully passing them down. ‘Watch ye fingers aye, they’ll hurt ye.’ Fascinated, the little girl turned the roses over in her hands, not looking at the petals but at the thorns, pricking her finger to one when she thought no one was looking. It was hard to miss her yelp of pain though. 

‘See? A bhobain. Rascal if I ever saw one. Come here aye, let me look at ye.’ As her Grandfather crouched down to look at her finger, where there was a faint speck of blood, he reached up to his lips and kissed it. ‘All better wee one. No need to cry. Ye best wash your hands properly before dinner. Go on.’ As the little girl ducked inside, the old back door creaking with the movement, her Grandfather laughed a little to himself, thinking how similar Eittie was to her own mother, just as wilful and curious. Getting inside, he turned on the oven to preheat before taking the flowers to the sink and cutting the stems properly before placing them in a vase, carrying them carefully up the stairs to Eittie’s room. It had been hard at first, redecorating her mother’s room for the sad little girl, but in the few short months she had made it her own. Along the windowsill there were leaves and rocks all collected from their walks, the floor and shelves were littered with books she stole from his library. He was sure she couldn’t understand half the words in them yet but she delighted in the pictures and what she could read just the same. 

Setting the vase down on the small beside table, he sat down on the bed and sighed, looking at a picture frame sitting there carefully. A picture of an auburn haired woman, glowing with absolute joy with the laughing baby in her arms, with flushed pink cheeks and a whisp of reddish hair poking out from beneath her bonnet. It still hurt to see his daughter, the ache in his chest too real to truly contemplate the loss, but the tiny little hands were his dearest comfort. For a moment the old man sat on the bed and rested his fingers to the glass of the frame, before getting up and heading back down stairs, leaving the soft haunting of his heart back up stairs for now. Eittle had beaten him back into the kitchen and was already up on a chair she had dragged over to the counter and was carefully unloading their collection. 

‘What shall with have Eit love?’ ‘Roasties! Please!’ Truthfully, Eittie’s Grandfather had been ill equipped to raise a child on his own. So set in his ways he didn’t have much range or idea for cooking interesting meals but to his great relief the little girl never seemed much bothered by the casual carousel of meat and veggies or soup. Dinner was simple as it always was. As her Grandfather cooked, Eittie set the table, carefully placing the knives and forks as they should be and often leaving a little flower or leaf by her Grandfathers as a small gesture of love. Tonight it was a rose petal, sitting gently on his napkin. As they ate, they talked about the garden and as the rain began to fall in the heavy soaking way it did in Scotland, they flung open the windows and the doors to let the sound and the cool air rush in. 

As they ate dessert, simple packet jelly and ice cream out of old cracked bowls, they pulled the chairs over to the back door, sticking their toes out into the water and laughing at the sensation of it. It was a small pleasure, one her Grandfather was terrified of loosing as she grew up. Still, there was still an entire Summer to go before she must go to school, there was still time to savour this before she got swept up in the job of growing up. As it always did, the cool air quietened down the evening and soon they had retreated back into the living room, closing up the doors and windows and putting on a small fire to make it toasty and warm. With the late night light, they sat under the window and pulled out the atlas, Eittie’s favourite book, and carefully looked for the page they had left off the night before. 

‘Where were we at, A Bhobain? Was it India?’ ‘Seanair! How could you forget! We’re at Nepal!’ Laughing, he flicked though the large pages until they found the map of Nepal, the piece of lined paper sitting carefully between the pages, with child like hand writing carefully making lists. ‘Okay.. so we have the capital city aye? Shall we find the Mountains tonight or the Rivers?’ It had become a tradition pretty quickly for them to explore a different country every week through the atlas. It was an old worn copy he had picked up from the local heart foundation charity shop when she had first arrived, trying to think of something to help teach her with. It was a surprise to find that despite the circumstances in which she had to undertake the journey, getting on the plane had sparked the little girls imagination and every night they spent hours talking about all of the places she wanted to visit one day. 

Now they sat and collected pages together, Eittie practicing her spelling and her letters, both of them learning about the countries they had never visited. All of the pages were destined to be bound with glue and tape into Eittie’s very first self published book titled ‘Where to next?. The long day in the garden had taken it’s toll and it was barely 9pm before the little girl was heavy on his lap and her voice slow and tired. Trying to push on, she was running her fingers over the map one minute, but the next was fast asleep, her head tucked in against his shoulder, pencil still in hand. Carefully her Grandfather slipped the atlas away and put it to one side and slowly getting up. ‘Come on, wee Eit, it’s bed time.’ There was a mumbled reply as she was roused into consciousness for a moment by movement, but she was heavy and limp again in his arms by the top of the stairs. 

Of course, as with any child, the moment she touched the sheets of her bed, she woke a little, her eyes catching sight of the roses and smiling sleepily. ‘Did ma like roses?’ The question caught her Grandfather off guard and he paused a moment before leaning down, carefully tucking the little girl in before reaching over and pushing open the window a fraction so she could hear the rain better over night. ‘Yes she did, she planted that bush before she left for college. Always said she wanted it to grow beneath her window so she could smell them. Never got tall enough while she was around. Perhaps for you it will grow better, hmm?’ Eittie was quiet a moment, her eyes closed as the softness of the pillow and the warmth of the blankets seemed to drag her back to sleep. Smiling, her Grandfather pushed back her hair from her face and leaned down to kiss her forehead goodnight. ‘What if I forget her?’ There was sad confusion in the little girls voice and even though he had to steady his own, her Grandfathers voice was warm and reassuring as he turned out the light. 

‘Don’t worry, my wee Eit, I’ll always remember for the both of us.’

[lucasxxbrown-blog]

The Maine Woods, Thoughts Loosely Constructed in Train of Thought.

Part One: Casco Bay Conundrum

Casco Bay has many beauties, like Peaks Island. Peaks island itself is a magical, mysterious, inherently dangerous place. Two cultures exist on Peaks; the Square and the Wild. The square are tame, old, and quiet. Generally white (most of Maine is white, unfortunately). They lack culture and fun. The fun are the Wild. The Wild are young, ambitious, and not surprisingly - but most importantly - stupid. The Square stick to what they know - driving their golf carts to the expensive restaurant by the water. The Wild live like they’re about to die; driving their cheap (about to fall apart) golf carts; screaming down dirt roads with 3 too many people piled on the back. They seek entertainment. Sometimes in throwing bottles, sometimes in climbing on the roof of a moving car. But, as old as civilization itself, we as humans hold on to ritual. 

Ritual, for the Wild on Peaks, are the outrageous fires they construct in Battery Steele. Anything from chairs to entire box spring mattresses are likely to be burned at the stake. The Steele is a large, concrete, hallway like tunnel. Several small rooms line it. It’s about 15 feet high and 20 feet across, with musty dirt floors. Rooms contain anything from broken glass to remnants of satanic rituals. The police on the island are limited, and really just don’t care. 

The Square far outnumber the Wild. Not much really happens, but when it does, it’s a sight to see. The Wild live life to the fullest. This is something the Square could do; but choose not to. The Square sit inside in the comfort of their homes and experience next to nothing. They fill their minds with mindless entertainment. They have no desire to explore, expand their horizons, or change their perspectives. They crave security both mentally and physically. Why is any of this important? If they’re happy with their lives, don’t bother them? The problem is that this kind of happiness is ignorant. Ignorant happiness. Their minds are closed from the outside world. Rarely do they care, think of, or even understand the or state of the world. They care about their issues only and themselves only. This ignorance is dangerous.

We, as humans, have an ethical, moral, primal obligation to help other humans. We all experience the same feelings; love and hate; despair and hunger. At any level of privilege, it is our duty to help those less privileged. Privilege can be described as the circumstances in which every human life comes into. Everyone was just like you at one point; a soul born into a place we have no control over. None of us choose where. None of us choose when. But all of us are born into cycles of more or less privilege (privilege can generally be interchanged with wealth). 

A study was done that examined families wealth status over the course of 1000 years. Every family that was poor, stays poor. Just about every family that was middle class 1000 years ago is middle class now. The rich stay rich. The poor stay poor. We are born into cycles. Born into wealth classes, which we usually stay in. These wealth classes generally determine the privilege one has. More wealth, more privilege. 

We don’t choose anything when we are born. How can you look at another human, another soul, who also chose nothing (but has less), and not help?

If the majority of people’s happiness came from helping people, we would live in a better world.

Part Two: Bag of Bones

I’m back now. When I last ended, my father had called me for dinner. After swinging a chicken sausage around on a stick for a while I sat down and ate. My brother is fishing again, to no surprise. He continues to ask me to accompany him, but I decline. I like spending time with him.  I like spending time in silence. But something about fishing with someone rubs me the wrong way. Fishing is solitude, silence, and patience. It could even be compared to meditation. This should be time for self reflection. Utter loneliness. Loneliness is seen as this sad, pouty thing. In reality, solitude can truly improve your mind. Meditation improves your mind. When it comes down to it, it isn’t weird to want to be alone.

That being said, you shouldn't be alone all of the time. Social interaction has its benefits. But there is something so peaceful, serene, beautiful and divine about spending time in your own head. No thought with the outside world. Nothing to worry about, nothing to do. You, alone, with your thoughts. At the end of the day, that’s all that we are… thoughts. Electromagnetic pulses through a pink squishy blob. Brains control our bodies, but what describes the “back of your head”? When you have sleep paralysis, you can see everything, but you can’t move. What is being “there”? What is being “conscious”? If “real feelings” can be manipulated by things that aren’t real, what is reality? What is real?

Thousands of veterans with severed limbs account feeling “ghost limbs”. Go ahead, look it up, it’s real. Even though their, say, arm isn’t there… they sometimes feel as if it is. Their brains forget that they don’t have an arm and those feelings return. If your leg is attached to you - you’d consider it alive. But it’s not. Our legs, arms, everything, are simply bones wrapped in meat covered with liquid. Nothing is “alive”. Are we?

Part Three: Survival?

The human brain has evolved some physically - but mostly mentally. Our great ancestors had similar, but differently shaped brains. Their minds were simple. The focused on food, sex, and shelter. Main goal: don’t die. For thousands of years, the human brain had one main goal; survive. 

Why? People died all the fucking time. Medicine wasn’t shit. You could cut your foot and die from infection within days. Plagues killed millions upon millions. Food was scarce. While this wasn’t a reality for all, it was for most. Our minds functioned differently. 

Fast forward to now. Your average first world human, for generations on generations, never needed to survive. From birth to death, death was never an “in your face” kind of thing. These generations were all born into hospitals; places of care and security. Then, they were brought home, fed well and cared for. They were given love, nourishment, and anything else you could think they would need. As they got older, they attended school. They spent 12 years of their lives in a safe and calm environment, learning. Yes, they might have had a health issue here or there.  But our modern medicine prevented them from ever directly facing death. They never had to worry about food, shelter, hunting, gathering, anything that our simple-minded great ancestors had to. Our constant thoughts shape the inner-workings of the brain. Generations since the 21st century have been shaped by thoughts of utter security; we always have our guard down. Food, shelter, and sex are all far too easily accessible. We don’t have to think about these things anymore. 

We are losing the ability to survive. To be human. What are we becoming?

Part 4: Whatever

Am I going insane? Probably. But nobody cares. You know why nobody cares? Because everyone is fucking insane. Everyone has at least one mental issue one way or another. None of us are truly sane anymore. What is normal? “What is normal for the spider is chaos for the fly” - Charles Adams. What is sanity? Who determines sanity? Is there a test you can take? Fuck. There probably is. But are all tests accurate? What if I take two separate tests and get two varying results? 

Sanity cannot be determined. We are all insane one way or another. Is this a bad thing though?

Mildly. We are all mildly insane. So, what does this mean? What does this prove? First, everyone needs to give everyone else a break. Cut judgement. Cut ignorance. Try to understand that everyone you meet has a life, feelings, family, possessions, and sorrows just like yours. What feelings do you seek to experience? Joy, kindness, forgiveness. Everyone else seeks these as well. Remember that we all feel the same - if you don’t want to be sad, why would you want someone else to?

---

I’m less high now. Being high is such a beautiful thing. I almost didn’t even want to write about it. It feels…”taboo”. Getting high has been part of the counterculture since its origins. The counterculture has often been referred to as the “anti war hippies”. These hippies were right. Right about everything. These hippies were the not only the peak, but the pinnacle of American culture. Their anti-war and anti-destruction of the earth ideas were spot on. Best of all, they were so fucking passionate about it. They all lived such humble, free lives. They weren’t poisoned by the food they ate. Technology didn’t corrupt their minds. They were spiritually awoken and fought for what was right (including the civil rights movement). The problem is that this counterculture was deemed “dangerous to the inner workings of society as a whole”. Many older people at the time didn’t understand. The hippies said, “Guys, look. America is pretty fucked up. But not too fucked up. We’re at a point of return. Let’s slowly start changing some stuff for the better”. 

Unfortunately the Nixons of America denounced them. They saw change as a threat to their way of life. They also realized that their control was threatened. Nixon types, Nixon himself were ultimately severely ignorant.  Ignorance fueled by ego and greed. Fueled by an undying lust for power. This ignorance began the war on drugs. The failing, idiotic “war” on drugs. Let me be clear; opioids do not expand your mind. They are a specifically designed substance for easy, immediate happiness. Not to mention the deeply addictive trait of these absolutely monstrous drugs. Do you know what they do? They release serotonin, your “happy” chemical. You know what they don’t do? Get you high! People will misconstrue this rush of feelings from opioids as a high. You know what gets you actually high? 

Cannabis. But, also meth. As well as huffing paint. But - things like meth or paint are a synthetic high with devastating consequences. These chemicals were created by a man in a lab. They aren’t natural. You know what is natural? Cannabis. To be clear; just because something is natural doesn't automatically make it safe. My point is to suggest that this natural high is safer and doesn’t fuck with your body and brain. Cannabis is natural; so are humans. We, like cannabis, come from the earth. Don’t forget we are still creatures of this planet! We are nothing but highly sophisticated monkeys. For thousands of years during our evolution, we were pretty basic. We dealt with survival over all else. But around the 21st century something changed. Modern Medicine. We became so good at keeping stupid people alive that we significantly slowed down natural selection. And what does that create? More stupid people reproducing, and a stupider population. You know who gains from a stupid population? The puppet masters of society. A society that has corrupted us.

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Suicide. Suicide doesn't make any sense. Many (most) animals don't commit suicide. Most humans, for a long time, didn't want to kill themselves. Personally, I’ve struggled with thoughts of suicide. I’ve never been diagnosed with depression. Depression is...unnatural? Is that the right word? My point is that animals don’t generally experience depression. Depression in mass amounts began around the 50’s. The 50’s. What an interesting crossroad in American culture. Possibly the most important. The morph between the 50’s and 60’s, that is. But what happened around the 50’s that made everyone want to kill themselves? Actually, maybe it wasn’t the 50’s. 90’s maybe? The humans (in America) peaked as a species in the 60’s. Have we gotten to a point somewhere beyond natural evolution? I theorize that we have began to evolve around society itself, and no longer the earth. 

We are evolving around ourselves. Death and survival are no longer a part of our lives. We’re becoming less naturally human and more internalized to society. Our everyday problems and issues are completely insignificant compared to that of the past. My great ancestors biggest problem was finding food in loom of death; mine is forgetting to put my dishes away. At the end of the day we’re so caught up in our obsolete issues that we forget how to truly live. How to feel. Our emotions are being warped and fucked with. What even is the main goal of life? To be happy? What even is happiness? What is emotion? Chemical balances and imbalances in your brain? Aren’t we all just energy? How do you describe a feeling? Aren’t happiness and sadness just chemicals released by your brain? Is anyone happy all of the time? Is that even possible? Is the point of life to just be alive? 

My father calls for me. I’m still in the tent. I should probably go. 

Part 5: An river end

I’m sitting by the river. Sounds of babbling rocks and the fresh smell of earth make me feel at home. Sleeping in the wild, waking up with the air we were meant to breathe; it’s a beautiful and peculiar thing. Everything just feels right. The wind brushes the trees, bushes, and my hair. The water moves slow and methodically, calm, with a purpose. Soon, the dam will release and the shore will rise. Will I rise as well? My spiritual journey is still in the making. I’m not only trying to find myself, but make myself. Maybe that’s it. Maybe I need to stop looking for who I am, accept who I am, and just do the things that make me happy. It’s hard, though. Making yourself happy; when your own joy comes from the light of others. I am the most happy when others around me are happy. Even if I’m doing something that bothers me, as long as the ones around me are content, so am I. Some things downright cause me utter sadness. But at the same time, I’m happy. I’m at a constant state of war in my own head. 

What do I do?