#Organic Harvest Face Wash

[okaylikeschaewon]

Hot-N-Fun - Part 1

~5k words, Roommates Series, smut

“Call it!”

“They never work,” you chuckled as you pulled your pants back up.

“Yeah but what if this time it’s real,” Mint pleaded while you washed your hands. “I’d do it if my phone wasn’t dead.”

“Seriously?” you began drying your hands. “It’s scratched into the side of the men’s bathroom. How could you possibly think it’s real?”

“You never know!”

“Call for a ‘hot-n-fun’ time? They didn’t even try. I think I can make a pretty safe guess,” you laughed as you dried your hands. “If anything, it’s probably just some dude messing with his friend.”

“You’re probably right,” Mint replied, staring at the scratching. “Either way, it could be funny.”

“Eh, you have a point,” you pulled out your phone and started dialing the number. “Fuck it.”

“That’s my man,” Mint smiled and jumped onto your shoulder, leaning next to your ear as your phone started ringing. “I owe you a drink for this.”

“It’s actually ringing, guess it’s a real number,” you commented, pleasantly surprised, with the phone against your ear. “I doubt they’ll actually pick-”

“Hello?”

It was a girl.

“Oh, hello,” you stammered after spending an awkward amount of time finding your voice.

“Do I know you?”

“No, I don’t think so,” you answered, stifling your laugh as Mint stared at you in shock, his eyes threatening to bulge out of their sockets.

The girl on the phone sighed.

“Did you happen to find this number in a bathroom?”

“Yeah, I figured someone put your number here to mess with you but curiosity got the best of me,” you explained. “Sorry to bother you.”

“Are you a student?”

“I am.”

“Tomorrow, 9 a.m., coffee. The cafe down the street.”

Mint began frantically nodding his head at you, mouthing ‘yes’ over and over, almost jumping on you in excitement. You couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of what was going on, but you made it this far, might as well see it out. At least, that was your excuse. In reality, you just found it incredibly hot that she told you instead of asked you.

“Sure,” you answered. “How will I know who you are?”

“I’ll send you a picture.”

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Could you do me a quick favor and please scratch out the number.”

“Yeah, I can do that,” you replied.

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She hung up, leaving you and Mint staring at each other.

“Did that really just happen?” Mint broke the silence first.

“I’m still not convinced this is real,” you shook your head when suddenly your phone vibrated, the message leaving you in shock once again. “Holy shit, yeah this definitely isn’t real.”

“Let’s see,” Mint grabbed your phone and his jaw immediately hit the floor. “Yeah there’s no fucking way. They’re harvesting organs for sure.”

“I’m still going.”

“True, who needs two kidneys anyway,” Mint laughed, giving you back your phone.

“Fuck it, this girl can have both if she wants them.”

—

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow,” Kazuha hung up her phone and turned to her roommate.

“Oh my fucking God about time!” Chaewon squealed. “Where the heck is Sakura, I need to tell her.”

“I’m not actually doing this am I?” Kazuha whined as Chaewon frantically tapped her phone screen.

“She got a call! Tomorrow morning! Yes! I know!” Chaewon screamed into the phone. “Okay! I’ll see you soon!”

“Chaewon!” Kazuha started hitting Chaewon’s arm. “I don’t want to!”

“It’s going to be so fun!” Chaewon grabbed Kazuha into a hug to stop her barrage of attacks. “I can’t wait to see him, what if he’s really hot?”

“I hope he is,” Kazuha sighed, falling face-first onto the bed.

“He will be, I can tell by his voice,” Chaewon jumped onto the bed with her. “So! What are you going to wear? Pick something that shows midriff, trust me.”

“I’m never making a bet with you two again.”

—

“Sorry I’m late.”

“You’re not late,” the girl looked up at you with a bit of a deer-in-headlights expression.

“I know, but it looks like you’ve been waiting. Therefore, I’m late,” you smiled warmly at her, gave her your name, and held out your hand.

“I’m Kazuha,” she shook your hand with firm but incredibly delicate fingers, holding on for a bit too long to be considered a ‘normal’ handshake. “Sorry, I would have waited before ordering, but I got kinda nervous.”

“No worries!” you sat down across from her. “I know it’s not exactly this simple, but don’t be nervous.”

“Yeah,” Kazuha laughed. “Just don’t be, right?”

“Is it working?” you asked while pulling your chair over so that you were sitting next to her instead of across from her.

“Umm,” Kazuha began blushing, her eyes frantically scanning you up and down as you moved right next to her. She ended up completely ignoring your question, biting her lower lip subconsciously as she picked up her mug and put it back down without even taking a sip. “Were you going to get a drink? I can come with you to the counter if-”

“No, I’m okay,” you gently placed your arm on the backrest of her chair.

Her eyes darted to your arm before going right back to you, that adorable deer-in-headlights expression returning with a vengeance.

“Here, we can share,” she picked up the mug and held it out for you to take, spilling a little on her own fingers in the process. “Oops!”

“Sure,” you ignored the error in an attempt to save her some embarrassment, and as you accepted the mug from her hand, you discreetly gave her a tissue. “Oh wow, it’s sweet.”

“Do you not like it?” she asked, looking up at you with an aura of innocent purity, as if your enjoyment of her coffee actually mattered.

“I love it,” you answered warmly, taking another sip. “What is it?”

With pure excitement, she started to explain her order, speaking too quickly to maintain any sort of semblance of coherency. The way she spoke about one pump this, one pump that, and not that a single word connected with you - in one ear out the other - was just too cute to handle. You were significantly more drawn to her appearance, focusing in particular on her expressiveness.

Her antics while she spoke were making you melt, you didn’t even bother hiding the smile on your face as you nodded along, pretending to care about whatever she was saying. She really was stunning, you could probably stare at her pretty face all day and never tire. Her beautiful wavy brown hair perfectly framing her cute features. The picture she sent definitely did not do her beauty justice. Have you mentioned that she was beautiful?

“Have you?” she waited expectantly for you to respond.

“Yeah, of course,” you replied, still mostly lost in her beauty.

She cocked an eyebrow at you before she burst out laughing.

“You haven’t been listening, have you?”

“Alright, you caught me,” you chuckled. “I got lost in your eyes for a second.”

“Oh,” she blinked rapidly a couple times before looking down at the mug in her hands. “You shouldn’t just make up stuff like that,” she added softly.

“I’m not making it up,” you reached forward and very gently pressed up on her chin so that she was looking at you again. “You have beautiful eyes.”

“Thank you,” she stammered, trying desperately to look anywhere but into your eyes, before suddenly changing the topic. “So, what about you, tell me something. Why would you call a random number like that?”

“I can’t say it’s something I do often,” you chuckled. “Although, maybe I should.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because apparently it can lead me to a coffee date with a beautiful girl.”

“You’re not even drinking coffee,” Kazuha giggled as she took another sip. “Does this really count as a coffee date?”

“I thought you said we could share.”

“We can share if you can tell me what my order is,” Kazuha teased, knowing you weren’t listening.

“Easy, two pumps of hazelnut-”

“I hate hazelnut,” Kazuha interrupted you with another giggle.

“No you don’t.”

“Wow,” she smirked, pretending to be impressed. “Were you actually listening?”

“Nah, lucky guess,” you replied with a smirk of your own.

“You’re so dumb,” Kazuha laughed, hitting your arm playfully. “You should have just ran with it.”

“You’re the one who said not to make up stuff,” you replied defensively.

“I meant about compliments.”

“Then it’s a good thing I haven’t.”

She began blushing again, tapping the side of her mug nervously before looking up at you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you replied. “I guess you’ll just have to keep me honest on our next date.”

“Next date?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Confident, are we?”

“Should I not be?”

“Then where’s the next date,” Kazuha played along. “I chose this one, now it’s your turn.”

“Well, have you tried this thing called ‘dinner’ before? I heard it’s best with one other person at 7:00 p.m. tonight.”

“Are you asking me out to dinner?”

“What gave you that idea?” you leaned back in your chair, acting surprised for a brief moment before smiling at her. “I would have suggested a painting class or something, but it might be a bit too last minute to book something like that.”

“Then I guess we’ll have to settle for dinner tonight,” Kazuha smiled alluringly.

“I’ll call and make a reservation,” you smiled back. “Speaking of calling, want to explain that one to me?”

“I’m just going to be extremely transparent,” Kazuha put her mug down. “I lost a bet, the punishment was that I had to go on a date with the first person who called.”

“I figured it was something along those lines,” you chuckled softly. “Hopefully, I made it at least somewhat worth your time? Considering you already contractually agreed to go on another one with me, I’d say it’s going well.”

“Contractually agreed?” Kazuha laughed, tilting her head back. “Is that how this works?”

“Exactly,” you replied. “I took an intro to political sciences course in freshman year, I’d know.”

“And when was freshman year for you?”

“Last year,” you answered. “You?”

“Last year as well. How have we not taken any classes together if we’re both sophomores?”

“I assume we’re in different majors.”

“I’d bet that’s a safe assumption,” she giggled. “If you’re not in poli-sci, what are you in?”

“Wait, who said I’m not?”

“You obviously took the intro to political sciences course for fun,” Kazuha answered. “I’ve seen the poli-sci kids at this school, none of them are so…” she paused for a second while her eyes fixated on your forearms. “Toned.”

“Excuse me? You’re one to talk,” your eyes quickly darted down to the subtle midriff she was showing. “Having abs even while sitting means you’re also far too toned for whatever your major is.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she covered her mouth to stifle her giggles. “What if I’m in something like kinesiology? They’re usually fit.”

“Fuck, beautiful and smart? That’s just not fair,” you mumbled, earning you another embarrassed giggle from Kazuha. “How long before I can hire you as my personal trainer?”

“I didn’t say I’m a kin major, I was just suggesting it.”

“Can I still hire you as my personal trainer?”

The conversation paused for a bit while Kazuha laughed, and in turn made you laugh with how contagious it was. She spoke next, after finally composing herself, in a much softer tone.

“To answer your question, I’ve actually been really enjoying this,” Kazuha smiled back before biting her lower lip again. “There’s a bit more to the punishment, though.”

“Oh?” you leaned back in your chair.

“I’m supposed to actually-” she paused to lean closer to you for a second before leaning back again. “Actually, nevermind.”

“Nah, you can’t tease me like that. What is it?” you implored.

“No, it’s embarrassing.”

“I won’t judge.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” you repeated after her.

“Well, part of the punishment…” she trailed off again. “I can’t do it.”

“Hey, don’t stress it,” you leaned back. “We can talk about something else.”

“Fuck it,” she sighed, leaning forward. You moved closer until she was right against your ear. “I’m also supposed to blow you.”

“Wow,” you leaned back again and put your hands on your head. “That’s… a bit intense.”

“You said you wouldn’t judge!”

“I’m not judging.”

There was a long, silent pause, where numerous unholy thoughts flooded through your mind. Before you could even make any sense of anything though, Kazuha spoke up again.

“Yeah,” Kazuha was now starting to get really embarrassed. “Sorry, that was… I didn’t know how else… I don’t think I was supposed to actually tell you that part. This whole thing was probably super inappropriate, I’m sorry for bringing that part up, that was stupid. I feel like I just ruined this-”

“It’s okay,” you cut her off, placing your hand gently on top of hers to calm her down.

There was another pause in the conversation. During it, you simply admired Kazuha’s beautiful features some more while she absentmindedly stirred her coffee. She couldn’t find the courage to look up at you. She was clearly waiting for the conversation to continue, but she was too shy to be the one to speak next. You had to be the one to break the pause.

“I’m not going to make you do that.”

Her head snapped up and she looked at you with eyes filled to the brim with surprise. She really was quite beautiful - an aura of pureness surrounded her, almost making her glow in a way.

“I’m serious,” Kazuha announced with this intense, newfound conviction. “I’ll do it.”

“And I’m serious when I say I’m not going to make you do it,” you repeated firmly. “That’s an awful punishment, and there’s no way I’d force that upon you.”

“I appreciate you trying to help, but I really have to do this. I can’t explain,” Kazuha sighed. 

“Then just tell them you did, I’ll back your story up if needed,” you replied casually.

“They’d know I’m lying,” Kazuha suddenly lowered her tone. “They’re actually watching this date right now.”

“Are they?”

“Please don’t look around,” Kazuha panicked. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you that part either.”

“I’m not stupid,” you laughed. “Look, how about the two of us sneak off to the bathroom for like five, actually ten, minutes. We can keep chatting or just stand there in silence, how’s that sound?”

“Would you actually do that for me?” Kazuha looked at you with that same shocked and pure expression that you were starting to fall in love with.

“Yeah of course, I’m going to look around as if you just offered to blow me,” you replied while standing up and over-exaggerating the motions of looking around the cafe before holding your hand for Kazuha to take. “Now we look suspicious as fuck, come on.”

Kazuha giggled at your foolishness before grabbing your hand and following you to the bathroom.

—

“Thank fuck it’s clean,” you laughed as you closed the door behind you. “Bit cramped for two people, but at least it smells nice.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

“Wait,” you leaned over her shoulder into her neck. “Oh, that nice smell is just you.”

“Stop,” Kazuha whined, stretching the word. The mirror showed her eyes rolling and her lips smiling. 

“Still haven’t lied by the way.”

“Well, thank you,” Kazuha awkwardly giggled as her backside lightly touched your crotch. “Oops!”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine,” Kazuha interrupted. “It’s a small bathroom. I really appreciate you doing this for me.”

“Don’t need to thank me, this ended up being a fun adventure. I got to grab coffee with such a lovely girl.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” Kazuha smiled at you in the mirror. “Do your dates usually end up like this?”

“If I had a nickel for every time I found myself in this situation, I’d have…” you pretended to count for dramatic effect. “Exactly one nickel!”

“You’re so silly,” Kazuha giggled, maneuvering around so that she was face to face with you. “Alright, I can’t lie, this is a tiny bit awkward.”

“Want me to face the door?” you laughed.

“No don’t,” Kazuha giggled, covering her mouth. “That would be so weird.”

“Well, I’m gonna ask for at least ten or fifteen minutes in here, I got a reputation to keep.”

“What about my reputation?”

“Good point,” you tapped your chin. “Are you known for being good?”

“Want to find out?”

“Kazuha,” it was your turn to feel warmth in your cheeks. “You might be one of, if not the, prettiest girls at this entire school. I really do want to take you on a date, I really do want to get to know you properly.”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have made that joke,” Kazuha stuttered, avoiding your gaze.

“The joke was fine,” you leaned closer to her face. “I just really want to do this properly with you.”

“I do, too,” Kazuha looked into your eyes without pulling her face away, leaving her lips slightly parted.

Everything, other than the little frogs jumping around in your gut, slowed down. It was truly quite peculiar how the world worked. One moment you’re squeezed in a tiny bathroom fit for one, then one moment later it felt like it was taking hours to reach Kazuha’s lips. Were you even moving at this point? Surely by now you would have made contact. You shouldn’t have closed your eyes so early, but it just felt right. How much longer? Maybe you could open them back up, but would that ruin the moment? Then it hit you.

Strawberry.

Who even wears strawberry lip gloss? Is that a common flavor? Does she always wear strawberry? Why did it taste so good? Why did it feel so good? Have you been kissing her for too long now? Shit. Maybe you’re the one that shook her hand too long earlier, maybe it wasn’t her fault. No, that was definitely her not letting go. Speaking of letting go, are you supposed to stop kissing her now? When did your hands end up framing her face, cupping her cheeks? When did her hand end up on the back of your neck? Where’s the other one? Oh, it’s on your hip, when did it get there?

“Wow.”

“That-”

“Felt right,” Kazuha finished your thought.

“Yeah,” you agreed, suddenly noticing just how tangible the tension was between the two of you as you let go of her face and brought your hands to her hips. “Were your cheeks always this pink?”

“Are they?” Kazuha giggled, turning her face in embarrassment to try looking into the mirror.

“Don’t,” you gently turned her face with one finger until she was looking at you again. “You’re so pretty.”

“Th-Thank you,” she stuttered, physically fighting the urge to look away and hide herself.

“Can I-”

She didn’t even let the words finish leaving your lips before lunging forward and kissing you again. The force pushed your back into the door, leaving a small bruise where the doorknob hit your body that you wouldn’t even notice until later tonight. While strawberries attacked your taste buds again, you began pushing back, slowly moving forward until Kazuha’s soft body began squishing your hand into the porcelain sink.

“I think I could do this all day,” you gasped as both of you began panting for air. “But I think we’ve probably convinced your friends by now. Should we head back?”

“Wait, not yet,” Kazuha panted, licking her lips. “Can you help me get a picture?”

“A picture?”

“To prove that I… you know.”

“You mean, like, with my thing out?”

“In my mouth,” she began blushing. “Just for a second.”

“Umm.”

Was this real life? You weren’t sure anymore.

“It’s fine if you don’t want to,” Kazuha stammered. “Forget it, dumb idea, they’ll just have to believe me.”

“I can,” you wrapped your arms around her and embraced her softly. “But are you comfortable doing this?”

“I am,” her voice was muffled by your shoulder.

She pulled back, smiling at you for a second before leaning forward for another kiss. This one was softer than the previous two, her lips barely brushed against yours, her tongue barely touched you.

“Ready?” you breathed into her mouth.

“I still can’t believe you’re doing this for me,” Kazuha stared at you tenderly. “You really don’t have to.”

“It’s really no big deal,” you rubbed her arm gently before unbuckling your pants.

“Just umm, tell me when you’re… you know,” Kazuha stuttered as she turned away from you.

It was incredibly adorable the way she stood there, trying to avoid looking at you in the mirror. You lowered your pants down to your knees and began slowly stroking yourself. It definitely felt a little bit odd, but you just reminded yourself that you were doing this for her sake.

“Excuse me,” you reached your arm around her body and turned the sink on, wetting your fingers. “Let’s make it look even more believable.”

Kazuha furrowed her brows at you in the mirror, confused by what you meant.

“I assume the inside of your mouth isn’t completely dry?”

“Oh,” she finally understood what you were doing.

“Alright, I’m ready if you are.”

Kazuha turned around and kept her eyes on yours, seemingly physically incapable of looking down.

“You’re probably going to have to see my thing at some point if you want this picture,” you tried to lighten the mood. “Don’t worry, you have my permission.”

She giggled, the rosy tint returning to her cheeks in full force, before looking down at your wet cock. As soon as she looked down, her body froze again and she looked back up at you, bringing that deer-in-headlights look that you were growing so accustomed to now by now back.

“It’s big.”

“Hey, we don’t have to actually do this,” you said gently, moving her hair out of her face for her.

“No,” Kazuha replied softly before sitting down on the toilet cover. “Sorry, I just, I didn’t, yeah, I’m ready.”

Kazuha pulled out her phone and flipped her camera to selfie mode, holding it up to the side, looking for the proper angle. Once satisfied, she turned her head to you, nodded once before opening her mouth wide and staring at you.

This was your cue, and you took one step forward before gently placing your tip into her mouth. You inhaled sharply as her lips immediately tightened around your tip, her tongue resting against your hole. Despite your cock already being stiff, as soon as it entered her mouth you could feel the blood rushing into your cock, swelling it up.

Kazuha held her phone up and took a few selfies at various angles. It was wild, such a beautiful girl with your cock in her mouth in such an erotically casual way. She had her lips pouted, almost like she was kissing your tip. It didn’t really make much sense, but it was incredibly hot - she was incredibly hot. Before you knew it, Kazuha released your cock with a little pop and wiped her lips.

“Do you think you could like, push against the inside of my cheek,” Kazuha asked innocently before the realization of what she just said hit her and her face turned bright pink in embarrassment. “Sorry, that’s a crazy thing to say.”

“Of course I can,” you ignored her embarrassment and pushed your cock in front of her mouth again.

Almost reflexively, she parted her lips wide and let your cock slide back into her cozy mouth. Just as she asked, you pressed your cock against her inner cheek as she took more selfies. Your cock was exploring every crevice of her mouth, pressing and shoving against her cheek. You found, somehow, both of your hands on her head, guiding it while your cock roamed freely.

It seems that your ability to see things had completely vanished, since you failed to even notice that Kazuha had put her phone away. She was just sucking your cock; she was no longer snapping pictures. When you finally realized what was happening, you hurriedly released her head while attempting to ignore how wonderful her mouth felt.

The real shocker was that Kazuha continued to move her head back and forth along your shaft even after you released your grip. Her lips were caressing your length as she closed her eyes, totally engrossed in the moment. You were certain that her mouth was designed to suck your cock since it was now entirely her decision to blow you, and it was impossible to deny how fucking great her mouth felt.

“Kazuha,” you gently moaned, carefully pulling your hips back. “I think you got enough pictures.”

“Does it not feel good?”

Her voice felt like a dagger in your heart. She sounded disappointed.

“Hey,” you crouched down so that you were level with her and leaned forward for a quick kiss. “You’re fucking amazing, but I told you I wanted to do this properly. This feels… I don’t know how to explain it…”

“It feels forced,” Kazuha smiled understandingly at you. “I promise you it’s not, I know I don’t have to do this. I want to do this.”

“Kazuha-”

“Zuha. My friends call me Zuha.”

“Oh,” you smiled softly. “Zuha, are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” she whispered, standing up from the toilet and maneuvering you around before pushing you down to sit. “Now close your eyes, and let me prove to you that I’m good at this.”

Fuck that was hot. You obeyed her request, closing your eyes as those delicate fingers of hers gave your cock a couple of pumps. Not being able to watch truly was a tragedy, but you felt her tongue with details you never could have imagined possible as soon as she pressed it against your tip.

She slipped your cock into her mouth again, bringing back that gentle warmth, swirling her tongue around the tip a couple of times before she began using her lips to stroke you. Back and forth her lips went, your tip prodding her tongue each time she went down your shaft, while her hand firmly gripped the bottom half of your shaft. A soft moan escaped your lips, one that told Kazuha it was working - but she already knew that. The girl definitely knew how to suck cock. Even without seeing that beautiful face of hers, you were already nearing your climax.

Somehow, she also felt it coming. Or, just by coincidence, she decided to start pumping your cock. Her hand and her mouth worked in tandem, stimulating your entire shaft. Up and down, a soft slurp echoing in the small bathroom each time her mouth moved. She slowed down for just a second, leaving you spewing agonizing moans into her ears, before speeding back up.

“Zuha,” you groaned, squirming on the seat, lifting your hips up into the air. “I’m…”

That was all the warning she got, because that was all the warning you could muster. Whether or not she was ready, the next thirty seconds of her life were going to be taken over by your cum shooting into her mouth. Your eyes shot open as the first gush launched against the roof of her mouth, just in time for you to see her visibly flinch.

She looked up at you, locking eyes, and held her mouth steady. Even as the next few spurts flew out of your cock, she never flinched again. You could see your cock throbbing, each pulse shooting more cum into her mouth, but she held steady, not even blinking, staring at you with those beautiful eyes.

With one hand, you pushed her hair out of her face and cupped her cheek tenderly, using your thumb to wipe the little glob of cum that spilled out of the corner of her lips. As your cock finally began to relax, Kazuha slowly pulled back. Inch by inch, she released your cock, making sure to keep her lips taut until they reached your tip.

She gathered all the cum in her mouth and struggled to take out her phone. When she finally got it, she snapped a selfie with your cum all on her tongue. Once she was content with the picture, she bent over and spit it all out, holding her hair to prevent it from going into the sink.

“Sorry, there was just too much,” she apologized, looking back up at you. “I swear I usually swallow.”

“It’s fine,” you smiled reassuringly at her.

Kazuha smiled back before she bent down over your cock again.

“Holy fuck,” you gasped, shuddering as Kazuha gave your cock a lick from the base to the tip.

She pursed her lips around your tip, prodding your frenulum a couple times with her tongue, coaxing out a little glob of cum. Without even lifting her mouth, she swallowed it. After a few more licks, making sure you had no more cum to drain, she released your cock with a little pop.

“So,” she stood back up proudly. “You tell me, how was it?”

“Fucking amazing,” you stood up in front of her and grabbed her face with both hands.

This next kiss went on for a few minutes, or perhaps longer. It would have been even longer if it wasn’t for the aggressive knock on the door.

“Hello? There’s only one bathroom here!”

Both of you began giggling while staring at each other.

“We’re fucked,” Kazuha whispered.

“It’s your fault,” you whispered back. “Fuck it though, we’re already screwed, might as well keep going.”

So you did just that, and the two of you kissed again until a staff member came by and berated the two of you, kicking you out of the cafe and telling you to never come back.

“Worth it,” you laughed as the two of you walked out into the warm morning afternoon.

“Worth it,” she repeated, clutching your arm with both of hers and smiling. “I can’t believe it’s almost noon already. Lunch?”

“That sounds perfect.”

---

A/N:

Inspired by a prompt given to me by @mintwithchoco!

So, turns out Roommates is becoming a whole universe. I'll explain more in my Masterlist at some point, but my goal is to write a collection of fics from this universe that are all following the same OC. They're going to be readable completely independently of each other, but there will be a lot of references and foreshadowing since I've actually already plotted out like 10 fics, so if an idol is mentioned in a fic, they're probably getting their own fic at some point.

This particular one will probably be split into two parts, just so I can avoid making it too long. Hope you guys enjoy this one, I've been on a crazy Kazuha high lately and just had to write her.

Feel free to let me know what you think about this idea. I won't be releasing fics in chronological order either. This takes place in the OC's sophomore year while the Eunbi fic took place in the OC's senior year. I'm pretty committed to this now with how much worldbuilding and theorizing I've put into this, but I still love hearing feedback!

[astromechs]

the remnants of hurricane helene have wrought unprecedented devastation on appalachia. while there are many areas of the southeastern US that are currently hurting because of what this storm has brought, the infrastructure in this particular region, hundreds of miles inland, is not built to withstand this kind of damage. western north carolina has been largely cut off from the outside world since the storm hit, with large scale disruptions to power and cellular service, many facing up to weeks without power and water, and washed out roads mean that many, still, especially in the more rural areas of the region, are trapped.

people need help, and they need it urgently.

as a native of western north carolina, my heart hurts for the beautiful place that i still call home even if life took me east, and for the wonderful people i still consider my community.

some of the most immediate, dire needs are securing access to basic necessities such as food, which is why i am highlighting two specific nonprofits: manna food bank, located in asheville and serving the surrounding communities, and second harvest food bank, serving northwestern nc, including several hard-hit counties in the northern mountains of western north carolina. manna food bank lost their entire headquarters in the asheville flooding, and are desperately seeking donations to restock their supplies for distribution to those in need, while second harvest is organizing a large scale hurricane relief effort.

in exchange for a donation to either of these food banks, i am offering a custom short work of writing, for whatever characters and prompts that are requested. for a $10 donation, i will write a drabble of at least 500 words, and for a $15 donation, i will write a short story of at least 1,000 words.

donate to manna food bank; donate to second harvest.

i encourage you to spread this, and i encourage you to participate in this fundraising effort as well! let's do our part to come together and show the people of western north carolina that we have not forgotten about them, and we will help them get through this.

[deacons-wig]

I'd prefer if we never got to see the origin of Vault Boy and Vault Tec's branding in the same way I'd rather not get a canon answer of who started the War or how. That's the point of War Never Changes.

Vault Boy is a sinister figure in his cheerful embrace of Armageddon. Giving the Vault Tec brand a face and a name and a backstory feels so unimportant to what is actually interesting about Fallout. What's important to me is the big picture pre war, and the details of what comes after.

What is interesting to me is exploring how propaganda is designed to convince people how close they are to annihilation--or homelessness, unemployment, obscurity, or being The Other and therefore destined to suffer--in hell, in oppressions, being ostracized. Honestly insert any sort of marginalization or suffering here. Crony capitalism uses propaganda to market products designed to manipulate people into buying distance between themselves and that annihilation. Putting themselves "behind the thumb" of Vault Boy, so to speak. Buying a lifestyle. Vault Boy does it with a wink and a smile, inviting those who can afford it to buy their way to safety while using capital and fear to perpetuate the cycle. I don't need the specifics to understand this.

Some ghoulnaysis below the cut:

I'll admit, my initial reaction to pre-war Ghoulgins being the inspiration for Vault Boy was funny! Mr. Cooper Howard, washed up actor experiencing an existential crisis being shoehorned into corporate propaganda that then haunts him for the next 200+ years? Selling manifest destiny, racism, the Rugged Individual, the revisionist history that cowboys were a) white and b) more than a brief footnote in the history of the colonization of North America's west. The commodification of entertainers/creatives/public figures. Selling identities to be packaged into a product that will outlive them? Only to have that person live alongside that role they regret (?) playing... kinda tasty, if we have to give Vault Boy a backstory, though I didn't get a clear sense of his actual feelings about being used as a propaganda guy which I think is a failure of the show to commit to the narrative they set up, which happens with a lot of the show's (lack of) engagement with Fallout's larger themes anyway.

But The Ghoul (stupid name!!! weird and boring choice!!!) is just such an uncompelling and repellent character to me. I love a good bad guy or even anti-hero, but honestly he lacks any interiority. He's an evil karma character (eats people, waterboards and mutilates people, sells people to organ harvesters...like? that literally makes you evil in the games...) but the narrative pushes him as an antihero or someone with gray morality because he what..."likes" dogs? And isn't as decayed or unsettling looking as other ghouls (implying handsome=good or interesting). People aren't afraid of him because he is a ghoul, they're afraid of him because he's evil and will hurt them! Sometimes for no reason! I see the callback to the director telling him to shoot his co-star and Cooper saying he's "the good guy," but is that why he becomes so fucking evil post war? Really?

I don't know why he does what he does other than...the world sucked before and sucks now so he might as well represent the basest of human behavior? That seems to be the thesis of the show--unless kindness and community is engendered (by the vaults, by Management, by a civic government, by corporations) people will descend into chaos.

So why have this poorly executed anti-hero be the origin of Vault Boy? What are the narrative choices being made here? Is it just Rule of Cool?

Personally I would like a pathetic, rotting wet cat of a ghoul, some sort of carved out husk of a washed up movie star either trying to relive his glory days, or avoid them--having given up hope of finding his family after 200 years--being dragged into Lucy's orbit and being constantly reminded of his Vault Boy fame, that she is a walking Vault Girl with her Okey Dokey's and Golden Rule. He'd be a joke, a footnote of the old world. He'd be mean and snarky, even unpredictable and uncooperative--have a public persona of friendly curiosity and a private, cynical one.

Pathetic Ghoulgins would remind audiences of the cost of capitalism and imperialism without resorting to the thesis that war never changes means that people are inherently cruel and will resort to violence, rather than existent corporate and political power structures intentionally create the conditions in which people accept perpetual cycles of exploitation and harm for the sake of their own safety and comfort, despite knowing the cost of maintaining the status quo, and not seeing or believing that distance between the status quo and total annihilation is measured by the smiling thumbs up of a cartoon mascot.

I'm sure there are other ways The Ghoul could have been a successful character as well but.... That's satire. That's interesting. That's Fallout.

[thepastisalreadywritten]

Story and photographs by Ronan O’Connell

September 26, 2023

In the middle of a field in a lesser known part of Ireland is a large mound where sheep wander and graze freely.

Had they been in that same location centuries ago, these animals might have been stiff with terror, held aloft by chanting, costumed celebrants while being sacrificed to demonic spirits that were said to inhabit nearby Oweynagat cave.

This monumental mound lay at the heart of Rathcroghan, the hub of the ancient Irish kingdom of Connaught.

The former Iron Age center is now largely buried beneath the farmland of County Roscommon.

In 2021, Ireland applied for UNESCO World Heritage status for Rathcroghan (Rath-craw-hin). It remains on the organization's tentative list.

Rooted in lore

Spread across more than two square miles of rich agricultural land, Rathcroghan encompasses 240 archaeological sites, dating back 5,500 years.

They include burial mounds, ring forts (settlement sites), standing stones, linear earthworks, an Iron Age ritual sanctuary — and Oweynagat, the so-called gate to hell.

More than 2,000 years ago, when Ireland’s communities seem to have worshipped nature and the land itself, it was here at Rathcroghan that the Irish New Year festival of Samhain (SOW-in) was born, says archaeologist and Rathcroghan expert Daniel Curley.

In the 1800s, the Samhain tradition was brought by Irish immigrants to the United States, where it morphed into the sugar overload that is American Halloween.

Dorothy Ann Bray, a retired associate professor at McGill University and an expert in Irish folklore, explains that pre-Christian Irish divided each year into summer and winter.

Within that framework were four festivities.

Imbolc, on February 1, was a festival that coincided with lambing season.

Bealtaine, on May 1, marked the end of winter and involved customs like washing one’s face in dew, plucking the first blooming flowers, and dancing around a decorated tree.

August 1 heralded Lughnasadh, a harvest festival dedicated to the god Lugh and presided over by Irish kings.

Then on October 31 came Samhain, when one pastoral year ended and another began.

Rathcroghan was not a town, as Connaught had no proper urban centers and consisted of scattered rural properties.

Instead, it was a royal settlement and a key venue for these festivals.

During Samhain, in particular, Rathcroghan was a hive of activity focused on its elevated temple, which was surrounded by burial grounds for the Connachta elite.

Those same privileged people may have lived at Rathcroghan. The remaining lower-class Connachta communities resided in dispersed farms and descended on the site only for festivals.

At those lively events they traded, feasted, exchanged gifts, played games, arranged marriages, and announced declarations of war or peace.

Festivalgoers also may have made ritual offerings, possibly directed to the spirits of Ireland’s otherworld.

That murky, subterranean dimension, also known as Tír na nÓg (Teer-na-nohg), was inhabited by Ireland’s immortals, as well as a myriad of beasts, demons, and monsters.

During Samhain, some of these creatures escaped via Oweynagat cave (pronounced “Oen-na-gat” and meaning “cave of the cats”).

“Samhain was when the invisible wall between the living world and the otherworld disappeared,” says Mike McCarthy, a Rathcroghan tour guide and researcher who has co-authored several publications on the site.

“A whole host of fearsome otherworldly beasts emerged to ravage the surrounding landscape and make it ready for winter.”

Thankful for the agricultural efforts of these spirits but wary of falling victim to their fury, the people protected themselves from physical harm by lighting ritual fires on hilltops and in fields.

They disguised themselves as fellow ghouls, McCarthy says, so as not to be dragged into the otherworld via the cave.

Despite these engaging legends — and the extensive archaeological site in which they dwell — one easily could drive past Rathcroghan and spot nothing but paddocks.

Inhabited for more than 10,000 years, Ireland is so dense with historical remains that many are either largely or entirely unnoticed.

Some are hidden beneath the ground, having been abandoned centuries ago and then slowly consumed by nature.

That includes Rathcroghan, which some experts say may be Europe’s largest unexcavated royal complex.

Not only has it never been dug up, but it also predates Ireland’s written history.

That means scientists must piece together its tale using non-invasive technology and artifacts found in its vicinity.

While Irish people for centuries knew this site was home to Rathcroghan, it wasn’t until the 1990s that a team of Irish researchers used remote sensing technology to reveal its archaeological secrets beneath the ground.

“The beauty of the approach to date at Rathcroghan is that so much has been uncovered without the destruction that comes with excavating upstanding earthwork monuments,” Curley says.

“[Now] targeted excavation can be engaged with, which will answer our research questions while limiting the damage inherent with excavation.”

Becoming a UNESCO site

This policy of preserving Rathcroghan’s integrity and authenticity extends to tourism.

Despite its significance, Rathcroghan is one of Ireland’s less frequented attractions, drawing some 22,000 visitors a year compared with more than a million at the Cliffs of Moher.

That may not be the case had it long ago been heavily marketed as the “Birthplace of Halloween,” Curley says.

But there is no Halloween signage at Rathcroghan or in Tulsk, the nearest town.

Rathcroghan’s renown should soar, however, if Ireland is successful in its push to make it a UNESCO World Heritage site.

The Irish Government has included Rathcroghan as part of the “Royal Sites of Ireland,” which is on its newest list of locations to be considered for prized World Heritage status.

The global exposure potentially offered by UNESCO branding would likely attract many more visitors to Rathcroghan.

But it seems unlikely this historic jewel will be re-packaged as a kitschy Halloween tourist attraction.

“If Rathcroghan got a UNESCO listing and that attracted more attention here that would be great, because it might result in more funding to look after the site,” Curley says.

“But we want sustainable tourism, not a rush of gimmicky Halloween tourism.”

Those travelers who do seek out Rathcroghan might have trouble finding Oweynagat cave.

Oweynagat is elusive — despite being the birthplace of Medb, perhaps the most famous queen in Irish history, 2,000 years ago.

Barely signposted, it’s hidden beneath trees in a paddock at the end of a one-way, dead-end farm track, about a thousand yards south of the much more accessible temple mound.

Visitors are free to hop a fence, walk through a field, and peer into the narrow passage of Oweynagat.

In Ireland’s Iron Age, such behavior would have been enormously risky during Samhain, when even wearing a ghastly disguise might not have spared the wrath of a malevolent creature.

Two millennia later, most costumed trick-or-treaters on Halloween won’t realize they’re mimicking a prehistoric tradition — one with much higher stakes than the pursuit of candy.

[usedtobeguest123]

...He raised his eyebrows in surprise at that. Favorite people? Was he included on that list? Julieta just smiled and turned back to the dishes. It took Bruno a moment, but he also slowly resumed his duties, finding he couldn't put away the little smile on his own face that had arrived at the thought that he might be someone's favorite.

I drew from my fic La Traes again for @encantober-official Day 2 - siblings. This scene is a little exchange that happens between the triplets--the OG siblings. You can find the whole thing below the cut.

“You need to get out of the house, hermanito,” Julieta had said to him gently one evening after dinner as they washed dishes together. “It’s…been a while, sí?”

“Eso se queda corto,” Pepa had mumbled as she dumped some more dishes into the soapy water, earning a glare from both of her siblings. [ That's an understatement.] She widened her eyes at them as if to say What? Am I wrong?

“I’m just saying ,” Julieta continued, pointedly moving past Pepa’s comment, “that it might do you some good, to have a little more change of scenery.”

“I-I think I’m doing just fine,” he replied a bit defensively. And he did. He went for walks with Dolores around the perimeter of Casita, down to the river where it ran past the southwest edge of the grassy lawn. Sometimes he’d wander out back behind the house, napping in the afternoon sun before it disappeared behind the mountainous wall that guarded the back of their home. Compared to the previous ten years, he was a veritable expeditionist now. 

“Of course you are,” Pepa said, putting an arm around his shoulders. He hunched them in response, glancing at her suspiciously. 

“Y-yeah?”

“Yeah! You’ve made it to the edge of the grass! That’s like, what, un kilómetro cuadrado, yeah? A completely normal amount of space for a person to exist in.” 

[One square kilometer.] Bruno’s frown deepened. “You’re mocking me.” 

Pepa winked at him. 

“A-alright, alright,” he said, waving his hands in the air beside his head in surrender. “I’ll, uh, I'll go to the banana fields tomorrow. As long as it’s not a harvest day,” he added, pointing a finger at Julieta, who rolled her eyes good-naturedly at him. “Or an irrigation day. Or you know…a-a day with other, um, other people there.” 

The busyness of rebuilding Casita last year had given him enough social interaction outside his immediate family to last him quite a while…a very long while. Thankfully, he’d been able to largely lose himself in the organized chaos of it all, and Mirabel had been particularly helpful, working as a liaison between him and anyone he’d had to interact with, smoothing the awkwardness away with her easy conversation and joyful presence. And he had managed to largely ignore the curious stares that came from, well, from pretty much everyone until the novelty of his return had worn off. Well…at least he had pretended to ignore them. 

“I don’t want to pressure you, arenoso,” Julieta said gently, putting a slightly soapy hand on his shoulder. “I just don’t want…”

…don’t want you to get lost again. She’d let her sentence trail off, but the unspoken ending hung awkwardly in the air anyway. They’d both turned back to their dishes, with Pepa standing stiffly beside them, hugging a freshly dried plate to her stomach. The cloud above her head darkened just a little. Bruno winced down at the soapy water as the silence surrounding them grew painful.

“H-hey, maybe you can spend the day with Antonio tomorrow?" Pepa offered nervously, popping the tension like a soap bubble. "He needs a…a break …from routine, too."

Bruno and Julieta looked at their sister with matching frowns, both narrowing their eyebrows in concern. It would have been comical or even sweet to see the same expression mirrored between her two siblings again…if she didn’t feel the weight of the very same concern pulling down the corners of her own mouth. 

Antonio had been struggling to find a place for himself in the Madrigal visits to town. Before his gift, he might have shyly clung to Mirabel’s skirts or played in the dirt while Pepa rained on the fields, never quite brave enough to venture out to play with the other children on his own, refusing to speak to the adults that smiled down at him. Pepa worried about his shyness.

But now a different problem had presented itself. Antonio was now more than happy to engage with anyone and everyone, possessing a newfound courage with his animal friends by his side, but his animal friends were also decidedly wild, and even Antonio could not control every move they made. Just last week, some monkeys that had trailed him into the town had wandered away and found some storage crates of fruit, working together to drop them from the roof of a nearby house until the crates smashed open and spilled out a feast that was then fit only for them. The owner of the crates had not been happy.

Most of the jungle animals had largely maintained a healthy, fearful distance from the bustling, busy streets of the Encanto for the fifty years it had occupied the valley, but Antonio’s warmth and friendship seemed to have blurred that boundary, and Abuela was struggling to find a balance between loving encouragement and civic order. And when Abuela struggled with something, all the Madrigals struggled with her, in one way or another. 

“...Mamá suggested that maybe Antonio might spend some time in the forest paths, playing with his gift,” Pepa explained, putting away the plate so she could pull at her braid. A knowing glance between all three siblings conveyed the underlying meaning of the word play—learn to get it under control. “Félix was going to take him, but you two get along so well, Bruno. Maybe you could spend some time with him, and you both could enjoy the fresh air. You know. Bonding?”

Bruno blew out an exaggerated breath, his cheeks puffing and his shoulders dropping dramatically. He pulled his mouth to the side and looked at Pepa with an expression of reluctant concession. How could he say no to a whole day with his sobrino? He loved the kid. And the very fact that Abuela had been the one to suggest the break from town…well. He knew what that felt like. No matter how nicely she put it, how lovingly she intended it, he knew it would feel like a punishment to Antonio. That thought…well that thought broke his heart a little. 

“...F-fine,” he mustered in response. “We’ll go for a walk in the–- ” he swallowed dryly“ –- i-in the forest.” 

A bit of sunlight broke through from behind the cloud above Pepa’s head, and Bruno couldn’t help but flash a small, crooked smile up at it. She pulled him sideways by his collar and planted a kiss on his cheek, which he winced at but accepted gratefully. Julieta nudged him with her hip. 

“There you go! That will be fun,” she said happily, clearly convinced this was a fantastic solution for all parties. Bruno was not so sure. “Take Mirabel with you, too, if you want. You know she’d love to join her two favorite people for the day.” 

Bruno had raised his eyebrows in surprise at that. Favorite people? Was he included in that list? Julieta had just smiled and turned back to the dishes. It had taken Bruno a moment, but he also slowly resumed his duties, finding he couldn’t put away the little smile on his own face that had arrived at the thought that he might be someone’s favorite. 

So here he was now, sharing a picnic blanket with a sloth and a capybara—among other crawling, flittering things—nursing a bruised ego after having been tackled by a six year old on a jaguar, all because he was a pushover who couldn’t say no to time with his sobrinos. 

Caray. The things I get myself into…

--La Traes, Chapter 1

[alice-angel12x]

Wait.. you're telling me Epel and Death have history together?! (Well more like his ancestors-) BUT STILL

Is that why instead of being afraid when he first saw them he was impressed with their fighting abilities??

Now I need more interactions with them OR even better! Epel inviting Death to Harveston because come on! And maybe there is a legend of Death there? As the kind person who helped the small town grow and become what it is today!

Also sorry about all of this, Epel is my favourite character and your writing brings me so much joy so I'm very happy right now! :D

"You're inviting me? To what I may ask?" Y/n asked.

" I only got the news this morning too, granny is so unreasonable," Epel sighed. "There’s an annual festival in the Harveston this weekend."

"Let me take a guess. A festival in Harveston, at this time of Year... Moln Mountain’s Kelkkarotu I believe it's called," Y/n said with a slight uncertainty.

"Y-yeah how did you know?" Epel asked in surprise.

"I have been around for a very long time," Y/n answered simply.

Epel ended up inviting a few other some with great interest others, not so much. Sebek, Jade, and even Idia came along to the trip.

As soon as the cool air of Harveston hit Y/n's cold skin, a wave of memories and nostalgia washed over them. The once small town had become a thriving community.

As Epel explained the geography of the land and it's lands, and apple specialty, he noticed Y/n seemed to be off somewhere in their mind. Y/n looked on with a sense of familiarity.

Jade would question this, but Idia would reason that maybe Y/n would have come across the town before. Maybe a few times.

When Epel offered Y/n an apple fresh from harvest. They learned that Y/n Death does not Eat... Furthermore lacked organs to digest so there is no point in eating.

So Down the road to Epel's house they went. It was a beautiful cabin, fit to stand the cold weather of Harveston. Y/n hurried them don't, to get warm clothes on. Wouldn't want them to catch their death out here. Speaking of which.

"Inside the shed? Are you actually an indoor type?" Idia asked.

"No, I played outside almost every day. Even in harsh rain, I couldn’t stand still. So in those days, I’d prefer to play in the shed which it’s wider and has fewer things than in my room.  I played with the farming tools, and even made treasures and a secret base there," Epel reminisced. "  But there’s one time when I was in the shed and the snow falls down really bad… And the door of the shed was blocked by the piled snow and it couldn’t open."

" You, as a child, alone in that shed? You lack caution as a mere human," Sebek gasped.

"And even if I shouted or banged my hand on the door, nobody noticed. It kept getting colder, and I was getting hungry… it was so bad that time," Epel reminisced.

"Then how did you manage to get out of the shed?" Jade asked. Epel thought for a moment and smiled.

"Well need a bit more context for that story. Which we will find in the center of town," Epel said mysteriously.

"Oh, alright. Hold on to your mystery for now," Jade chuckled

So Epel leads the group to the center of town. to get to the hall and to meet his grandmother Malya.

When Epel and his grandma chatted, the others were completely lost on what they were saying. As the two talk in their native dialect. But Y/n was happy to translate for them.

As the boys choose the fabrics that would be used to make their plushie sled pullers. Grim being Grim got hungry again and wanted more sweet apples.

As he scanned for unattended food and saw a treasure trove of some. At the base of some state were the biggest, ripest, ruby-colored apples he had ever seen. He's never seen such perfect apples.

As Grim made a mad dash towards them, he suddenly slammed face-first into a shovel. Grim hissed and looked up to see an old man glaring down at him.

The old man began to scold the fire cat, catching the attention of the NRC boys, and Epel's grandmother. Y/n apologized on Grim's behalf.

The NRC boys were wondering why he was so angry. So Epel explained the significance of the statue.

"This is the state of Harveston's Founder. When our ancestors were in a hard place, the founder came across them and lead them here. Were they would teach and raise the orphans to survive here," Epel said.

The boys looked up at the Statue. It was of a familiar figure, in one hand they held a lantern above their head. Lighting the path in front of them, while in the other held a baby close to their chest. Behind the founder were three children huddled up close to them. One was looking behind in fear, the middle one simply hugged close, and the last one looked up at the found in awe.

What they noticed was that hand holding the lantern, looked like it was broken long ago.

"Oh, Epel. What happened to the statue's hand?" Jade asked.

"Yeah, did the hand used to hold the lantern? Cause the drilled-in hook looks strange," Idia added.

"Oh, that's was the founder's doing," grandma Malya laughed.

"The founder's...doing?" Sebek asked skeptically.

"Yes, even all these the founder's spirit has always been watching over us. We've noticed their spirit loves taking their lantern and putting it in places to signify their presence," The old man spoke. "And even before that the people of this town pick their best apple from their harvest. And place it at the base to pay respects."

"What a kind spirit," Y/n commented.

"Indeed, you could ask any local here and they would have a story to tell about their encounters. Even Epel, when was trapped in the shed when he was younger," Grandma Malya chuckled.

"Oh yeah, that story. Epel you never finished that story," Grim said.

"Oh yeah. When I was freezing, I suddenly felt this warmth. Not in the hypothermia kind of way, but like there was a small fire nearby. And I remember hearing someone," Epel explained.

"Heard someone?" Jade asked.

"Yeah, they were whispering encouragements and telling me I just needed one more push to open the door. And I did, with one of the tools I managed to free myself," Epel smiled.

"Ah yes, and when we finally found Epel. My son, Epel's father, saw something in the shed," Grandma Malya smiled. "It was the founder's lantern, once again in a place where it wasn't meant to be."

Soon Malya had to go make the sled Plushies, and Y/n opted to help her. While the boys looked up at the statue.

"hey, you know. This founder statute looks a lot like Y/n" the fire cat commented.

Epel's went wide and he looked at the statue to Y/n and repeated 2 more times.

"No...No... It... They can't be right?" Epel gasped.

___________________________________________________________

Part 2? Maybe. well, see.

[kindersurprisebacterium]

Disobedience (Simon Riley / Reader) Chapter 3

Concequence

CW: Murder, depictions of blood, hunting

Gender Neutral AFAB Reader

WC: 2.1k

Chapter 1: X

Chapter 2: X

The bright sun beamed down on our inlet by the river. With a watering can in hand, I tended to the garden in the backyard. The asparagus was nearly ripe enough to harvest. Perhaps one more day. 

The back door swung open. Simon stepped forwards, mask adorned. 

“One of the traps went off. How about you help me bring this deer in?”

And so we hiked to a little clearing in the woods, down the hill, and west of the stream. Dangling from a tree was a white-tailed deer. It writhed against the rope trap. A pant of guilt struck me as I watched the animal. After all, I was in a strikingly similar position just a little bit ago. 

“I’ll kill it and you can help me carry it back,” he proposed. I nodded, watching as he carefully sliced the deer's neck. It was a quick death, a matter of seconds before the animal went limp. I hoped it was painless too. 

And so I slung the corpse over my shoulder, waiting for Simon to set the trap again. He set the end of the rope out and covered it with leaves and dirt. In the center of the trap was a small pile of dried fruit.

“Alright, let’s go, love,” Simon slipped his pocketknife into his shorts. We slipped into the tree line, following the familiar path back to the cottage.

A metallic clank drew my attention. Standing in the clearing were two armed soldiers adorned with the crest of Blackburn. I couldn’t recognize them with their visors on, but it could’ve been anyone in my fathers conclave. 

“Your fathers been looking everywhere for you,” one of them spoke. “It’s not a good look on him to have his only child flee before their wedding arrangement.”

Simon stepped forward. I nudged him with my elbow, urging him to stand down. 

“Tell him I’m dead. I’d much rather be here than in Aysgarth.” My words were blunt and uncouth. Much to be expected for someone with a corpse over their shoulder and a devilish creature at their side. 

“Suit yourself,” one of them grunted. The two guards turned away, trekking eastward through the forest.

Simon gently placed a hand on my blood-stained cheek. He leaned in close, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. It was his silent way of showing he understood. 

I’d grown accustomed to his manners in the span of almost a week. He placed his hand on my thigh whenever I’d come down from an orgasm in an attempt to ground me. He’d do the same if I was upset. 

He stopped adding hot peppers to his dishes after one complaint of it being too spicy. If I got pulled away from my reading, he’d bend the corner of the page without me asking him. 

He kept my favorite quilt, the one that smelled most of him, on the back of the couch. 

Love was a word that described this relationship well. It was also his nickname for me. It sounded good on his tongue every time he spoke it. Bliss was a close second to describing how I felt when I saw his fuzzy face.

He made me feel strong when he asked of me to carry the deer. He assumed more of me than anyone else had.

We arrived back at the cottage with the carcass. Simon preferred to prepare the meat outside, so as not to dirty the kitchen. There was a stump from an old willow tree which he used as a makeshift preparation table. 

A small butcher's knife rested on the stump. 

I stepped inside the house and brought a pot of water to a boil. Surely a plate of asparagus would go well with cooked venison. 

After dinner, and before sunset, we shed our stained clothes and went for a swim in the river to wash off. I grabbed Simon by the horns and pulled him in close. My fingers dug into the spot just behind his horns. I knew he couldn’t reach this on his own.

He whimpered, dropping his head to my chest. I laughed, moving my fingers to the space behind his ears. He pressed kisses along my collarbones. It was a moment of vulnerability, something I’d caught more and more glimpses of as we grew accustomed to each other's presence. 

“Simon, you’re so sensitive,” I chuckled. He gripped my waist and hoisted me into the air. I crossed my ankles behind his back, holding tight as he lifted me onto the banks of the river. 

“How dare you mock me like that,” he laughed as he placed me gently onto a towel. 

“Simon,” I whined, “I’m not mocking you. It’s adorable seeing you react.”

He huffed and faked an exaggerated pout as he towel dried me off. He took a bit too long drying my thighs, taking extra time feeling my skin. I pulled his shirt over my head and slipped into some shorts. 

Knowing that towel drying is an arduous task for someone with his coat length, he stepped into his shorts. We’d deal with the damp sheets another time. It was far too late to ponder that now. 

As we slid into bed, he pulled me into his arms. The quilt shook as his tail flicked. The last candle had long since been blown out. It was only the moonlight now which faintly illuminated his face. 

In this peaceful silence, he looked beautiful. His long lashes perfectly framed his closed eyes. And his lips, how plump and perfect for kissing they were. I knew then, looking over his sleeping form, that I loved him. Truly loved him. 

When we rose in the morning, something was wrong with our garden. Our produce was chewed up, withered, and dying. On the underside of leaves were freshly laid eggs. Somehow, slugs and vermin had made it past the fence. 

“It’s nothing we can’t fix. I’ve got some seeds inside. Why don’t we plant a new garden?” His optimism was something to be admired. I supposed for tonight we could just have venison, at least until we found something to forage.

While he looked for the seeds inside, I took to digging up the wilted crops. Stomping the shovel into the dirt would be much easier if I had hooves like Simon. Or at least something more than just ballet flats. 

Despite my lack of adequate footwear, I dug up the garden and divided the land into small sections. Tomatoes in the left corner, carrots and asparagus in the right. Tubers had their own section by the back window. 

I watched as Simon carefully planted the seeds. He gently scooped up dirt with his hand and covered the seeds. He stuck his tongue out when he was focused. I found it adorable. 

I set out to look for game while he finished sowing the seeds. The forest seemed quiet today. The usual chirping and crowing from flocks of birds was no more. Even the chirping crickets had faded. It was eerie, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had their eyes on me.

I wrapped my fingers around Simon's pocket knife. While useless against any stalking predators, it was a reminder that he was only a shout away. 

I reached the clearing, the same one with the bubbling stream that I’d met Simon in. The rope trap hadn’t been triggered yet. Sighing, I stepped forward to check the bait. My eyes widened as I got a closer look at the rope. 

It was neatly cut, as if with a knife. The end of the rope dangled against the tree. The bait was gone, meaning a deer had been nearby. Someone had freed it. 

A small crack echoed through the forest. I followed the noise with my gaze, landing upon a familiar face. Donned in his finest chain armor, with his beard streaked with dirt, was the marquess of Blackburn and a handful of soldiers from his battalion. 

My father’s face was scrunched up in anger. His face was cherry red, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d’ve expected him to whistle like a boiling kettle. In his bruising grip was a torch to light his way through the dense tree cover. 

I turned on my heel and sprinted into the tree line. I could hear my heartbeat swishing in my ears. My hands shook as adrenaline coursed through my veins. Once the cottage was in sight, I shouted.

A set of familiar horns appeared from the side of the cottage. Simon ran to encase my body in his embrace. 

“What happened?” His voice was soft. 

“I’ll tell you what happened…” a gruff voice spoke. The troop of men had made it to our doorstep. My father stepped forward, handing his torch to one of his men. “You went off, dabbling in the sins of the flesh. Do you have any idea what this cost me?”

“Can you at least tell the earl of Aysgarth that I’m sorry-“

“No. Nonono, once he heard of what you did, giving yourself to this…filthy creature, he wanted nothing to do with us. Not even a forced apology could quell his wrath,” spit flew from his mouth as he snarled. He seemed more beastly than the man by my side. “I don’t know how I could’ve raised a whore like you.”

“What did you-” Simon started. 

“I saw the way he touched you in the river. I know how whores like you act. You’re no different from the prostitutes in the brothel.”

My throat ached. I could feel the familiar burn of tears rising in my eyes. I clenched my jaw tightly, concealing my rage from inside me. 

His sweaty hand grasped my wrist, pulling me from the embrace of my beloved. 

“You deserve nothing but to rot in prison,” The Marquess spat. 

In that moment, something ignited in me. Something that I still can’t quantify. My body moved on its own, grasping the blade within my pocket. 

In one swift movement I lashed out, cutting his throat in one quick slash. His grip on my wrist went limp. In a matter of seconds he was on the ground, grasping at his severed throat. 

In that moment, he was nothing more than a deer. Nothing more than a thrashing corpse on a rope. Nothing more than a blockade to my freedom. 

My chains snapped at that moment. The overwhelming sense of freedom coursed through me. 

If the head falls, so shall the body. It was something he’d said in meetings. It seemed especially true when his troop of armed soldiers fell back, dragging his bloated body with them. A trail of bright red blood streaked the grass. 

He scrubbed my body of the blood in the river. Tears ran down my face. My voice came out in ugly, choking sobs. I didn’t quite understand why I felt this way. Why was I crying over someone who hurt me, treated me like nothing more than a possession? 

He carried me into our cottage. My crying quelled once he took me into his arms. He placed my towel-clad body onto the mattress, joining me under the heavy quilt. His lips were soft against my skin as he trailed kisses up and down my neck. 

He ran his fingers up my side. His fingers traced circles into my skin. I hooked my arms around the back of his neck, pulling him closer to my chest. 

“I love you, Simon,” I spoke against the soft blonde curls on top of his head. He pulled back, horns clanking against the headboard. His brown eyes locked onto mine. They seemed more vibrant, even in the low lighting. 

“I love you too, dear.”

As the winter passed, our crops flourished. This time, with no sign of infestation. The birds woke us up in the morning with their chirping, and the crickets sang us to sleep with their song. 

His thick curls shed as the heat of summer slowly crept up on us. Every now and then, I’d take him into the backyard and brush his coat. Clumps of golden fur were swept up by the wind or taken by the birds. 

We settled into a comfortable routine, sometimes stepping out of that safety with a trip to a neighboring village whenever I wanted a new book. Simon would always pick out a ceramic figure or a new bottle to take home. 

One night, the smell of cinnamon drew me from the garden. Simon stepped into the backyard with a silver plate in his hand. 

“This was on the porch,” he explained, handing me the dish. It was a cake, exactly like the ones my mother would make me in Blackburn. Beside it was an orchid. I could smell her perfume lingering on the platter. She picked lavender as her signature scent, adding hints of vanilla for an extra “pop” as she called it. 

And so a new head had sprouted in place of the old one.

[krowspiracyanon]

I’ve picked on Krow enough, someone else gets a turn now. So for Halloween you get a short story with two villains. You get a taste of Horror Krow. You also get little sneak peeks at one of my OC Doves prior to a future reveal. (I joke about ‘Dumbve' but there are actual sympathetic reasons for their naivety.)

Basically this is exploring an old ‘what if’ scenario, some cool headcanons I have about Krow’s house (without being too spoilery) and figuring out how hard I can play a bunch of people with existing tensions off each other with one inciting incident.

Please excuse this being a bit rough as I really rushed to finish before October 31st.

My OC is written into the role of Dove. But the nickname/concept of a 'Dove', Gabby, Eliyah, Krow, Naila and LT all belong to @thekrows-nest/@winndycakes.

Content warnings: Stalking, kidnapping, mild gaslighting, implied murder/potential character death, possibly implied serial killing, creepiness, yandere behaviour played for horror, workplace and mild sexual harassment, one brief racial microaggression, physical intimidation, violence, head injuries.

Brief descriptions of injury, someone being in strong pain, implied PTSD flashbacks or panic attacks, implied coma, implied organ harvesting, unhinged behaviour. Also slight misgendering. (Despite the button Eliyah and Gabby may not be aware Krow is NB.)

This was specifically written to contain nothing graphic. There is no sexual assault, no threatened sexual assault, no drugging, no animal death or cruelty, and no gore.

"Double Shot"

The late October sun slants through the windows of the small independent cafe, golden like the patchwork leaves outside. Dove and Gabby are working the same shift as usual.

Eliyah is also hovering. As usual. He's waiting on a pourover coffee, leaning on the end of the counter and talking to Gabby’s back while she ignores him and lines up other orders. 

The five minutes for the hot water to drip through the fine grind is achingly slow and the background noise is insufferable.

‘This is the smoothest way to have it you know, other than drip coffee. I was first introduced to it while photographing in Peru.” He humblebrags. "This way it’s strong and full bodied.” An unwise idea seems to dimly strike his brain. “And time brings out a hint of sweetness under the bitterness….” 

To this Gabby remains stubbornly silent with her entire back.

Eliyah is emboldened and his eyes slide over the side of her face. "The only thing missing is the crema. That’s got a fantastic mouthfeel to it and… uh... it’s a creamy tan."

Gabbys face and shoulders grow rigid when he alludes to her skin tone. “Shut up asshole.” She grits. "I don’t want to hear it."

“I was just talking about coffee dear!” He whines, wounded. "I still don’t understand why you just don’t like me. I thought you’d let go of our little spat. It was years ago."

Gabby knows the line for what she can get away with and keep her job but after an earlier incident she’s on a shorter leash this week. Plus both she and Dove need the tips. 

She wishes that that interminable damned coffee could be served more quickly while it was still scalding. It was going to be handed to him so abruptly it slopped onto his shitty cashmere turtleneck or his punchable face.

---

Krow is outside peering surreptitiously at Eliyah’s van, casually giving the windows a polish when a few people pass by. They then confidently enter and make a beeline for Dove. 

Eliyah is immediately on edge. “Hey! Don’t touch what isn’t yours!” Adding sullenly ’That van’s just been washed.’

‘A b-bird pooped on it, which can smear the windscreen or eat at the paint. G-genius. But then you don’t know that. You’ve never had to worry about your own cleaning.'

“And if you keep your grubby hands to yourself I won’t have to."

Gabby smirks sidelong as she preps the drinks, enjoying their agitation in spite of herself. God, the only consolation for having both of these shitbirds here at the same time was watching them fight. 

She catches Eliyah watching her smile and coldly turns away.

Krow suppresses the enraged rush of blood to their head in an effort to stay smooth. However they soon relax a bit and glow while ordering their favourite from gentle Dove. 

“I-it's glorious outside. H-how has today been Dove?” Krow stays casual, sticking to small talk and detailing their plans for the lovely day. Debating internally whether it’s still too early to ask if Dove has any of their own plans for after the shift...

Unfortunately Gabby was good. Much faster than chatty Dove who was new and more suited to front of house. 

Gabby had begun grinding and tamping as soon as she felt Krow darken the door, got to pulling the shots and steaming the milk as soon as he started to make small talk after ordering, and a few practiced flicks of her good wrist made short work of the syrups. 

Her flat loud voice cuts across their conversation in no time. "Regular and white mocha blend?”

Krow hides their chagrin. This was their expensive weekly treat that was painstakingly budgeted for and their precious day off… they had hoped for just a little more time to bask in Dove’s friendliness. There still was hanging around to sketch while savouring their mocha but they wouldn’t be able to chat at the counter again for a few more days without looking pushy. Gabby’s perceptive foxlike face is smug.

No matter. A certain someone had been smiling, was always looking coyly down while Krow bantered, and sometimes winkingly gave them an extra pump of syrup or free shot ‘for making it so slow'. Krow still felt the tingle where their hands had brushed in passing the drink over. 

Even better the cute barista been chuckling and expressing envy when Krow talked about birdwatching and sketching in the sunny park later! Maybe after a few more chats they could suggest coming along... Things were looking up for the lucky artist. They could be patient for a little bit.

Krow's mouth and chest are warm, filled with sweetness.

Then their expression flattens and Gabby’s smug smile drops too. Both of them watch in horror as Dove hands Eliyah his damned pourover and they hear him shoot his shot. 

Krow stops tasting their drink and their chest turns hollow. Gabby’s stomach drops and she tastes bile.

Dove chews at their lip, muddling on it. "I don’t know… I don’t date customers.” They are looking at their feet, not seeing Gabby’s appalled ‘cut’ gesture and Krow shaking his head.

“It’s just to get to know each other a little and enjoy the scenery. Think of the experience! You could try out some of my equipment for a portfolio! It’s so hard to get started in bigger cities like Columbidae."

“I… I guess?” Dove thought hopefully of the opportunities. 

They hadn’t been able to bring themselves to tell Gabby about their living situation much less ask to couch surf. Shrewd Gabby would never have found herself in such a precarious situation. And they didn’t yet have any friends beside her in the city.

“It’s not a big deal. It’s in the afternoon. And how can you have an opinion until you’ve even spoken to me? Just get to know me dear.” 

They really needed the money any side hustle could bring... this guy with his soft hands and bland expensive clothes seemed nonthreatening. He seemed like a nice guy that was trying to help a new arrival out? It was in public. And it wasn’t like it was a date...

The date is set.

A sickly green glow beams out unnoticed as everyone absorbs what just happened.

---

Eliyah and Dove take his work van to a remote park with ‘unspoiled beauty'. Eliyah is buoyant and a little too chatty, full of facts that nobody asked for.

Dove laughs along nervously and looks out of the window. Unease fills their stomach at just how far the drive is but they let it pass as the van pulls up to the park. It’s a fairly large park with a concrete path, benches, and open grass areas ringed by trees and shrubs. The changing leaves are variegated fire.

Eliyah opens the van door and begins rummaging through his equipment, explaining a special lense.

Then after shooting for a while. “Your friend doesn’t like me much, does she?”

“Oh. Gabby’s just like that.”

Gabby in fact seems to dislike Eliyah more actively than she usually dislikes others. Even Krow, which is surprising. She hates him. But Dove hasn’t pressed her about it. They don’t understand Eliyah’s constant references to the past because they can’t imagine the two ever having been friends.

“Has she ever said anything to you?” Bringing the camera over, his eyes probe for Dove’s own although they keep sliding away. He’s standing a bit close. Dove shrugs uneasily, going nonverbal.

He steps closer and persists. “Really I’d rather let bygones be bygones. I just don’t understand why she won’t give me another chance. You two are thick as thieves, perhaps you can tell me why. You could put in a good word for me right? Dove! Just answer me! I deserve another chance don’t I?"

Eliyah is getting angry now, leaning towards Dove to force them to look at him, and there’s a sharp edge on his breath. Dove doesn’t like strong eye contact. Dove doesn’t like people being so close to their face. Their heart is fluttering like a frightened bird and their breath is short. They step back. And back. And fall.

---

A “birdwatching" Krow suddenly drops his binoculars and pounds through the grass to his scooter, cursing the discreet distance.

---

Gabby is much closer. She erupts immediately from the treeline making it to Dove in seconds.

Eliyah shows nothing but startled glee. “Gabby… you came looking for me! You care!”

“Fuck off you prick! What did you do to Dove?!”

"You have forgiven me. You just saw me chatting to your friend and were too prideful to admit you were jealous.”

“What - ?”

“It was a misunderstanding. This is just the push you needed."

“Shut up shut SHUTUP - ” Gabby is alternating between yelling hoarsely at Eliyah and frantically pushing him off Dove while he tries to get them up. It’s chaos.

The scooter roars into the middle of them deafening them both. It skids sideways sending Gabby sprawling back as Krow jumps free and flails heavy sickening thumps onto Eliyah’s head and chest. Krow flicks out a gleaming knife in rage but stops at the suddenly registered sounds.

Dove is in a bad way. Their skin is damp with a grey undertone. they are retching and incoherently moaning as their body is jerked by Gabby’s lifting.

Gabby tries harder to pull her friend into the van but her bad hand keeps releasing its sweaty grip, her ankle twisted when she tripped over Dove and she is losing precious time in haste. 

Too slow. There’s no time now to haul ass into the van and floor it. Dove is dead weight. Now Gabby can’t and won’t run. 

Krow is sprinting over to to scoop Dove up. Gabby panics and starts lashing out with her cat ear keychain to defend her friend. Krow restrains her before she can reach her mace and he’s a lot stronger than he looks. The inexorable grip on her wrists hurts but is anchoring.

Krow speaks firmly. “G-gabrielle. Stop. STOP. Just let me help Dove, w-we need to get them out of here. N-now."

Gabby would rather be anywhere else in the world right now. She’d rather trust a snake. This always indefinably creepy guy has gone fully nuts with freaky glowing eyes like a cat - he even smells inhuman up close, generically clean like disinfectant in a hospital. A hospital! 

But her bike won’t carry them both… not with Dove’s injuries and Gabby’s ankle. Not over that distance. And not if this crazy asshole flips out and won’t let them leave. He’s gotta be taking them to a hospital though. Short Fry obviously cares about Dove’s state and they need to be seen.

There’s a shrieking and stuttering argument about who drives but Krow is persuasive and time is racing. Gabby doesn’t want to leave Dove alone with the creepy shitbirds in the back so she finally gives up and steps in. 

Krow gets both the baristas settled, Gabby supporting Dove. The limp Eliyah is then dumped facedown on the floor, Krow flinging the photographer's own heavy camera contemptuously after him onto the back of his head. Their own scooter and Gabby’s now bent bike are strapped on the roof. Childlock is immediately deployed and the van is efficiently pulling away.

---

Gabby rests. The afternoon light is almost gone and begins to cool into evening quickly. The adrenaline is wearing off into grey exhaustion and everything hurts.

The window tint is dark. Darker than should be legal. And there are curtains. Why is it taking so long to get to the hospital? Gabby suddenly freezes.

She scrambles to see with her sputtering lighter, spilling a folder of photos featuring nude tan women with long dark hair. Short ass son-of-a-bitch. Has he used the child lock? What is with this van? She leans sideways trying to twitch a curtain to gauge direction or see landmarks. A muscle is cramping in her side and a bead of sweat is sliding down from her underarm despite the chill. The inner latch isn’t where it’s supposed to be. The handle… WHERE IS THE HANDLE? 

The enclosed darkness is all too familiar. Gabby can’t move. She’s being touched, and there’s the weight of someone elses body on her. There’s no way out. The ride to Krow’s home is eternity. Dove is heavy and weakly moaning on her lap. Eliyah is silent on the floor. Gabby is pinned and hyperventilating, lost in her own scalding churning memories.

---

Eliyah is dimly aware of a garage or warehouse door locking audibly behind them. He is semi conscious and re-experiences a childhood memory of being carried half asleep from the car. 

But he must still be dreaming. He is being dragged though a surreal space, part abandoned ruin and part paradise. 

Colourful birds flit through wooden beams, forests and nymphs swirl kaleidoscopically past incongruent ’trees’ of exposed timber posts. It’s all unnaturally bright and blurry too. Dazzling to his delirious blown eyes. Overwhelmed, Eliyah lapses fully into unconsciousness. It’s the last thing he sees.

---

Krow walks back past the lovingly painted murals that cover the rough extensively repaired walls with beauty and distract from the renovations in progress. They are still elated from carrying a pale insensible Dove bridal style into their home.

Black market medical attention has already been called for and Dove is going to be just fine. They are going to be so cared for when they wake up. Giddy at the thought of nursing them back to health, Krow fidgets. Please Dove. Just open your eyes!

They practically float past one of their favourite scenes. Maybe with the money Krow and songbird will take a beautiful trip to their ancestral India. Visiting those carefully sketched temple interiors for real, seeing the flashy peafowl, and intimately sharing the juices from those vibrant painted mangoes. They salivate.

Sigh. Back to reality for the moment. 

On opening the bolted door Gabby scrambles like a cornered animal in a sudden rattle of shackles. 

After the initial recklessness for Dove’s sake, the penny had dropped quickly for the smart woman. She had needed to be wrangled into this second location and even with plenty of time to tire herself out or calm down her distress and hatred was immeasurable. She just wouldn’t stop fighting. Screaming for help. Refusing to eat anything not sealed. Shutting down in terror.

Dove could use a friend to watch over them for now while Krow worked... but Gabby was devilishly clever in escape attempts and they hoped she would quickly become unnecessary. 

They relock the door and leave her alone. Soon it would just be the lucky two alone together. The couple. 

Now to check on the other distraction. 

Striding on to a different area, Krow doesn’t even glance at 'The Black Paintings' in the corner. They don’t want to dwell on that phase of their life. That’s all over with now.

Then they float past a rendition of the Trevi fountain, fondly imagining a holiday in Rome with Dove. Their perfect smooth hands holding Krow tightly from behind on a Vespa. Licking gelato. Together at the fountain, sitting so close. 

Finally there it is, that clever mural that camouflages an imperceptible join in the painted wallpaper. The elaborate swirls of the leafy ferns, round bird nests and curved sweeping wings boggle the eye, visually breaking up any clean straight lines underneath and giving the illusion that the papered wall underneath is solid. 

The eyestrain of extra ultraviolet style colours and patterns (as they would look to birds) also ensures that nobody could look that closely for too long.

Krow runs the back of their pocket knife along to find the join and awkwardly wrests open the heavy door.

Their low warm voice is still humming ‘Il Dolce Suono’ on descending the stairs into the secret room. The air is icy and reeks of bleach. 

A humming generator is hooked up to a fridge-freezer and the sturdy work boots clomp over the damp concrete floor - Krow even stumbles slightly as they accidentally kick a portable cooler but Eliyah still doesn’t stir. His slumped form is tied to a chair on an iv and the windowless room obscures most of his lower body in shadows.

Krow clicks a mini torch into Eliyah’s eyes. He is breathing but the pupils remain fixed at 4mm and there is no reaction to the light. There’s no hurry. There is a little time to call around for the right price.

Satisfied, Krow does call off work planning to sweep the disturbance at the park and retrieve their binoculars.

They exit and slide the concealed soundproof door firmly shut.

Krow makes their way over to the most special place now and admires the very specific single themed mural covering the entire room. 

Painted from ceiling to floor is an exact replica of the cafe where Dove worked. Where they first met.

Everything has happened unexpectedly quickly, but they can take a little more time to finish painting and setting up for their sleeping songbird. They want to make some changes to commemorate a very special day.

Soft hazy eyes glowing green, a flustered giggling Krow adds radiant sunbeams with the slanting warmth recalling the russet leaves they remarked on.  Perfectly preserving the memory of that late October.

Once it’s finished and Dove is safely in their cage Krow will get to relive their early courtship every single day, forever! And once they wake up... so can Dove.

.…

Optional ending:

LT wakes from this nightmare. Between experiences Gabby has shared, his own intuition and what he’s fought in his life Gabby’s paranoia and nightmares are rubbing off on him. He's also been having such vivid dreams since meeting Naila.

He goes over the dream, trying to slow his heartbeat as he sips at a glass of water. 

How could it be he wasn’t there for Gabby? Why would such a careful person have charged alone into danger? There are answers. (Her intense loyalty, her fear that her own experiences would happen to Dove, possibly a feeling that - as a man or because many people have not believed Gabby - LT might think she was overreacting.) 

Back in bed they cuddle and talk. He believes her about the intense weird energy of the short artist, the way the slimy photographer just won’t back off from her workplace. 

They talk about safety as a team.

[beanwaterontherocks]

Haunted on the inside

I've been really into Cannibal Sweetheart lately and I was wondering about how it would be if the MC could see ghosts!

Casanova Valentine belongs to: @cannibalsweetheart

TW For themes of death

______________________________________________________________

Movies have gotten a lot of things wrong about ghosts. They’re not very talkative, most of them can’t even talk at all. Maybe it has something to do with how they died or why they’re still in this world, you’re not sure. You’ve tried ransacking bookstores, libraries and websites, but none of them explain ghosts how you see them. They can’t hurt you, they can’t touch anything really, they’re kind of…there. Not all ghosts are sad or angry, a good life can also keep someone on the mortal plane. You’ve seen it all before, an old lady with a warm, golden outline sitting beside an old man on a bench in the morning. A wispy old cat rubbing its head against a person’s leg.

You’ve also seen a kid from high school, followed by the silent, bloody spirit of the man he killed in a hit-and-run. You almost don’t even notice ghosts anymore; they’ve just become a part of your life. You don’t dedicate your whole existence to helping them get to the other side or anything, you doubt that’s even possible. You don’t shy away from small talk with some of the chattier spirits though. It was a scary power, especially as a little kid, when you’d see the translucent frame of a woman in the corner of your room. You made sure to get the final say in where you moved. It was a comforting thing, especially after realizing you wouldn’t be getting that heart transplant anytime soon. There was something waiting for you, even it was as bleak as a spirit’s world seemed to be.

You’ve come to like your ability; it worked wonders in figuring out who to avoid.

But sometimes, you had to talk to people who were haunted for the wrong reasons. You had never seen someone as haunted as Casanova Valentine. Even from a distance, you could see the mass of spirits clinging to him. They were furious, wailing like they were in excruciating pain even in death. Ghostly grey faces screeched at him, but he was none the wiser. Times like these is when you begin to wonder if this power was supposed to be a curse. He smiled as you approached him, trying your best to not look at the smokey hands around his throat. The faces around him changed from time to time, like so many were haunting him that they had to take turns. You should have expected this, he did run an organ harvesting operation.

You were willing to deal with it, until he opened his mouth. As he spoke, sobbing wisps of vapor pouring out from his throat. The cries were painful, almost drowning out his words. There were ghosts inside of him…why were there ghosts inside of him?

You had held up your end of the deal and so you had been brought to a sketchy, black-haired surgeon in a dark basement. The place, surprisingly, didn’t have any ghosts, at least that meant most of his surgeries were without casualty. Casanova was by your side as you were put under anesthetic, screaming spirits pouring out from between his teeth as he smiled.

When you woke up, you couldn’t see. You saw the five lights above you; you saw the surgeon washing his hands by the wall and you saw Casanova. There was no muffled wailing, no dark, misty forms.

Your ability, be it a curse or blessing, was gone.

You’d had it all your life, it shouldn’t have gone away with your old heart. You spent at least 10 minutes looking at your eyes in the mirror, trying to find any incisions. Casanova had something to do with it, you don’t know why or how he’d taken away your power and you didn’t even want to think about how he knew about it.

Casanova Valentine was haunted, even if you couldn’t see it anymore, you knew the symphony of screams that followed him everywhere, he was the first person you had seen that was haunted on the inside. 

Why was he haunted on the inside?!

[neko-naruto]

i've lost my ignorance, security, and pride

Summary: Copen never did consider a karma so cruel in his journals when he'd write about the potential of his justified path coming to bite him in the ass, nor does he truly believe it when it's so viciously forced into his face by none other than Nova

Warnings: unethical surgeries, verbal degradation, Nova has something going on, check Ao3 port for full tags

Authors Note: *laughs nervously as I stare at the 2 ppl who like gunvolt on tumblr* so how do ya'll feel about toxic yaoi? cause I got toxic yaoi with a side of unethical surgeries and a title from a Nine Inch Nails song.

"You're such a swine," Nova purred, hand firmly gripping Copen's jaw, "A filthy, worthless, pig."

Copen snarled up at him, "You're one to talk, Adept."

"You're a broken record. Adept, Adept, Adept- it's your favorite word, right up there with justice," Nova said, smug grin slanting to a cruel smirk.

"I'll tear your very heart out in the name of God," Copen threatened, tried too at least. The paralytics holding him down made it very hard to come off half as threatening as he wanted to. He just had to grit his teeth and grimace as soft hands held his face and tainted his skin.

Nove gives a single chuckle, "I doubt you could so much as scratch me in your current state." He takes a step back from Copen who struggles to reach out and claw him open, tug him and punch him, do anything to hurt him in any way possible.

He can manage seething, "I'll sooner die than watch you ruin everything."

Nova claps twice and a row of soldiers file in, "Boys, take him down to the lab, I wish to impart a gift upon him."

Copen's eyes widen as the soliders encroach on him, hands gripping his arms and legs and holding him securely to the point it hurts. The crackling purple remains to hold his joints locked in place and muscles contracted so he can do nothing but breath and take it. When enough hands have him secured, Nova claps once more and they don't hoist him up. The purple Adept leans just enough that they're at eye level, he's grinning this sickly smile that makes Copen feel ill.

"What are you going to do to me?" The hunter questioned.

Nova reaches out to run a finger from Copen's ear too his chin and tilts up, "I'm going to make you despise your very existence."

Nova shoves aside Copen who fumbles for words and writhes to the best of his ability. He watches as the Adept turns his back as he's slowly carried away, dragged on the ground.

"I want him in heavy restraints when I arrive, and I want him awake while I do it."

Copen's blood runs cold as the words sink into his paralyzed body.

-/-/-/-

All Copen can do is stare at the ceiling even after the paralytics have come down, he knows the restraints are too strong for him to break. He's been stripped of his dignity and his pride and his armor, he can't manage much of a fight physically at this point. LED lights sear his eyes as they shine down on him mockingly from the ceiling, he can see the glint of scalpels, needles, and vials from the corner of his eye.

He hears the door open and tries to turn and see it but he awkwardly hits the brace clamped over his neck. It aches from the physical struggling he tried mere moments after being locked in. The struggling earned him nothing but mocking and laughing from useless foot soldiers.

"No need to worry, I have it under control. Thank you for dealing with the first part for me."

It's Nova, he sounds as calm and collected as ever. He steps in and the door slides shut. He shrugs off his regal coat and hangs it up on the door and trades for it an apron.

"You're gonna kill me down here, while I'm vulnerable," Copen declared as Nova washed his hands and hummed a tune.

"I would never," Nova said with a faux tone of offense, he steps over to Copen's restrained form and grabs a marker, "I have something far more sinister in mind."

"You're gonna cut me open? Harvest my organs and let me live out my remaining days without them sickly and frail?" Copen questioned as Nova brought the marker to pale flesh and ran dotted lines across Copen's chest.

"Don't give me ideas now," Nova said with a light laugh as he capped the marker.

Copen took a deep breath, "Than what it is it?"

"You're a smart boy, you'll figure it out," Nova chided as he grabbed the scalpel and pressed it against skin, "This may hurt."

He pressed down and it did hurt, it was a clean type of hurting though. A simple little slice down the front of his chest, from his clavicles to the base of his rib cage. He felt his breath hitch as the pain diffused, it was quick to return when fingers pressed into the slit of flesh. He bit his tongue instead of screaming, body spasming at the unprecedented intrusion.

Nova gave a hum, "Someone doesn't like being fingered. I guess I'll open you up a bit more before we get to penetration." He laughs at his own words and Copen just feels a wave of disgust wash over him at the fact Nova is comparing this to sex. Albeit, in a very subtle and twisted way, but it's a comparison regardless.

The scalpel comes down along two more dotted lines and with one quick motion his chest opens up. He feels extremely nauseated, like he'd vomit if he had anything in his stomach. He dry heaves despite gravity working against him, he convulses and wheezes as fingers prod at his inner muscles. Tracing over the bits on his ribs and tapping his beating heart and pinching at his clavicles.

There isn't the comforting discomfort of latex either, it's just skin on flesh. The taint of an Adept's touch is being ingrained into his being with every passing second of Nova exploring his body in a very unpleasant way. His finger nails dig into his palm into Nova forces them apart with bloody hands.

"Don't hurt yourself, you don't even have reason to hate yourself yet," Nova said in a tone far too soothing for a man so sinister and cruel, but it worked. Copen relaxed, he let his body go as limp as possible because as much as he wants to defy, he knows he can't win this one. Nova grins, "You'll have plenty of reasons to hate yourself soon enough."

A needle is held high, a clear fluid fills it, and then it's plunged into Copen. Close to his heart, but not quite, narrowly missing the most vital of his organs. The glass tube rests nestled against his lung as the fluid is deposited into his body. His breathing starts to slow all the while and the prodding sensation of Nova's fingers inside of him.

Anesthetic, how kind.

Three needles are held this time, red, green, and blue. There's hesitation on Nova's face as he lays them atop Copen's rib cage and contemplates. He grabs red first, "You know, you'll be the first to have three Septima's implanted in your body."

Copen starts struggling again, "You're turning me into an Adept!?"

"I thought that was clear," Nova said smugly as he snapped his fingers, bright purple crackling across Copen once more to paralyze him. He lets a finger, dripping with blood, hover over Copen's lips. The taste of ichor rests heavy on Copen's tongue and he squirms as best he can, the terrible taste of his own blood making him feel ill. Nova smirks a bit, "Now hold still, I don't want to kill you during this process. Although, three at once may kill you in the long run."

As the first of three needles puncture his heart he passes out with a gut wrenching scream that makes even Nova feel nauseated. A rending pain running through every single vein in his body as a Septima is implanted in him. He sees Nova's smug face and a wave goodbye as he fades out of consciousness.

-/-/-/-

When he awakes he finds himself in a hospital bed with stitches running up his front and a crusty sensation coagulating near them. It makes him feel ill, even more when he hears them crackle as he sits up. A sharp sting pierces him and he tries not to hiss as a bare hand clutches at his clothed chest. He's wearing one of those hospital gowns, but the blood and puss and Septimal residue soak into it in the shape of his cuts.

"I wouldn't be moving for a while if I were you," Nova said calmly from where he stood leaning in the doorway, dressed to the nines in his usual outfit. He has a bouquet of flowers in one hand with a gaudy 'get well soon!' card attached, it makes Copen cringe.

"If it'll kill me then I'll make a point of it," Copen snarled as Nova stepped in and ever closer.

Nova chuckled lightly, "You idiot," He doesn't use anything innately insulting which is odd, he's dropped his smug I'm better than you aura. He takes a seat on the foot of Copen's bed, "You're stuck in here now, we won't let you die."

"What do you mean I'm stuck in here?" Copen asked.

Nova was so bold as to reach out and trace along the front of Copen's hospital gown, he smiled the entire time. He pressed just above the heart and Copen winced, "You're stuck with Sumeragi, your Septima's are prone to malfunctioning. They're unstable unless you're here with our technology monitoring you to keep you alive."

Copen goes wide-eyed, "What?"

"You have to stay with Sumeragi, attach yourself to a Glaive, and hope that we'll trust you to use your Septima in taking down QUILL." Nova crawls a little further up Copen's hospital bed, "That or you go out there and wait for the inevitably of a premature death."

"So I have to sit here at your beck and call like a dog or die?"

"You're a smart one, a bit slow, but smart."

If he wasn't already nauseated with how close Nova is too him at the moment he'd feel like vomiting. He goes pale he knows that much and he swears his head starts to spin.

"So," Nova begins, reaching out to touch Copen's face and now there's no divide between them. They've become equally low, Copen's been lowered forcibly to become the same dirt all Adept's are. "What'll it be?"

Copen can't answer, he just tries to look away.

Nova wrenches him back into eye contact, "Did you not hear me, filth?"

"I'll take the Glaive." He submits but he doesn't want too, he submits because he knows he'll find out how to break the leash when he can escape. Until then he'd like to stay alive long enough to shoot down the likes of Gunvolt and the rest of QUILL, even if it means working for Sumeragi.

Nova grins as he pushes himself back, "I'll get it fashioned right away, I'll make sure your armor is reminiscent of what you wore when you tried to defile my name."

[toestonose422]

Organic skincare

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[demonsfate]

OLYMPIAN AESTHETICS (repost, not reblog)

APHRODITE / LOVE. laughter-loving, sweet smiles, dressed in silk and satin, flower in their hair, sees the world as a runway, unapologetically sexual, the sea washing their ankles, in love with love, stirrer of passion, cunning concealed by painted lips, secret daggers, doves, revolution in their kiss, delighting in the waves, flirtatious winks, strolling along the beach, staring wistfully from a balcony, this is how to be a heartbreaker, wants to be adored, gets turned on by danger

APOLLO / SUN.   glitz and glamour, art galleries, turning the volume up, being made of gold, neatly-organized music sheets, notebooks filled with poetry, bathing in the sunlight, the powerful urge to create, collecting vinyl records, beautiful cover of wonderwall, playing multiple instruments, tasting like sunshine, healing touch, speaking in prophecies, smile mingled with wrath, shunning lies, sporting shades, hanging out at music festivals with their friends, sleeps naked, arrow to the heart, paint brushes, probably has a tinder account

ARES / WAR.   armed for battle, wants to raise a dog with their significant other, soft spot for children, gives piggyback rides, scarred body, blood on their hands and face, willing to fight the world for the ones they love, fights against injustice, warm hugs, well-worn combat boots, boxing gloves, bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles, fist raised in protest, ignites revolutions, fear is a prison, more sensitive than what their tough shell would have you think, exhausted, damaged goods, force to be reckoned with, red roses, curses under their breath

ARTEMIS / WILDERNESS.   keen sense of a hunter, freckles like constellations on their skin, piercing eyes, disheveled braid, moonlight peeking through the shadows, the calm of the forest at night, lying on the grass and staring at the stars, mother doe and her fawn, protecting their kin, the moon shimmering on a still lake, quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree, running with wolves, bonding while circled around a campfire, not being much of a people person, arrow hitting a target, popping egos, patience on 3%, touches heaven and returns howling

ATHENA / WISDOM.   discerning gaze, unreadable face, quiet museums, owl perched on their finger, armor that intimidates, eye for architecture, plays the sims for the sole purpose of building houses, studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid, big fan of logic, loves brain teasers, ancient buildings, sweaters in neutrals and cool colors, hair done up, can kill you with their brain, heads to the library often to research, sharpened pencils, abs that can cut steel, stoic statues, pottery classes

DEMETER / HARVEST. soil-covered hands, smile that can bloom flowers, skin loved by the sun, being the mom-friend, can lift you and your friends, flowers kept in the pockets of overalls, takes pride in their beautiful garden, speaks to their plants, leaves rustling in the wind, stalks of wheat, picking fruit, greenhouses, heart as strong as a mountain, values simplicity, daisies dotted across a collarbone, curls crowned with flowers, folded pile of sweaters in warm hues, pulling out fresh-baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air

DIONYSUS / MADNESS.   drunk shitposter, on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second, seductive smirks, untamed curls, rich fabrics on dark skin, sleek-furred panthers, theater masks, stage productions, receiving a standing ovation, rose caught between their teeth, being the baby of the bunch, wild parties that last from sundown to sunup, creeping vines, inspiring loyalty, grand opera houses, masquerade balls, rolls of film, shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine-spilled floor, pouring champagne into flutes, lives for the applause

HEPHAESTUS / CRAFTSMANSHIP.   the calloused hands of someone who knows labor, sweaty brow, flame burning in their eyes, inventive mind, broad shoulders, steampunk goggles, nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes, ashes, striking a match, blueprints for future projects, fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades, wrestles with bitterness, work boots have seen better years, wrinkled plaid shirts, iron melted in blazing fire, huge jackets, crafting masterpieces, greased-stained overalls, fascination with robotics, pain is fuel, stack of weaponry, even their muscles have muscles

HERA / MARRIAGE.   resting bitch face, dressed to the nines, cows grazing on a pasture, cool rain, loving and hating fiercely, hand clutching a string of pearls, large chandelier with glittering crystals, plays the sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims, romance to realism, pictures of the sky while flying on a plane, files that under fuck it, downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and netflix, like their selfie or you’re grounded, knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man, dark eyes that penetrate your soul, marble and gold

HERMES / MESSENGER.   devil-may-care smile, always up-to-date on the latest technology, will steal your french fries, does it for the vine, shitposter, puts googly eyes on everything, meme hoarder, long drives on the highway, ma and son pop diners, spontaneous road trips, folded maps, fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop, shooting hoops on the basketball court, chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations, goes jogging in the morning, mixes redbull with coffee, menace on april fool’s, hoodies and sneakers

POSEIDON / SEA.   storm with skin, colorful coral reefs, waves crashing against the shore, stroking the soft fur of a cat, their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop, tousled locks, clothes smeared with paint, owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns to own more, leather jackets, fondness for diy projects, handwriting that flows across the page, nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin, velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams, mood as ever-changing as the sea, the roar of a motorcycle, compass with a spinning arrow

ZEUS / SKY.   thunder in their heart, running on coffee, flash of lightning, natural charisma, eloquence, badass in a nice suit, aficionado of history, force of nature, lenny face, nightmare-filled nights, proud arm around their lover’s waist, high-rise buildings, planes soaring through a cloudless sky, technician on the piano, maintains order, strong handshake, juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with ease, expensive watch

[noxianwilled]

OLYMPIAN AESTHETICS.

bold for what applies, italic for what is conditional, bold+italic for what strongly applies.

repost, do not reblog!

APHRODITE / LOVE. laughter-loving, sweet smiles, dressed in silk and satin, flower in their hair, sees the world as a runway, unapologetically sexual, the sea washing their ankles, in love with love, stirrer of passion, cunning concealed by painted lips, secret daggers, doves, revolution in their kiss, delighting in the waves, flirtatious winks, strolling along the beach, staring wistfully from a balcony, this is how to be a heartbreaker, wants to be adored, gets turned on by danger

APOLLO / SUN.   glitz and glamour, art galleries, turning the volume up, being made of gold, neatly-organized music sheets, notebooks filled with poetry, bathing in the sunlight, the powerful urge to create, collecting vinyl records, beautiful cover of wonderwall, playing multiple instruments, tasting like sunshine, healing touch, speaking in prophecies, smile mingled with wrath, shunning lies, sporting shades, hanging out at music festivals with their friends, sleeps naked, arrow to the heart, paint brushes, probably has a tinder account

ARES / WAR.   armed for battle, wants to raise a dog with their significant other, soft spot for children, gives piggyback rides, scarred body, blood on their hands and face, willing to fight the world for the ones they love, fights against injustice, warm hugs, well-worn combat boots, boxing gloves, bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles, fist raised in protest, ignites revolutions, fear is a prison, more sensitive than what their tough shell would have you think, exhausted, damaged goods, force to be reckoned with, red roses, curses under their breath

ARTEMIS / WILDERNESS.   keen sense of a hunter, freckles like constellations on their skin, piercing eyes, disheveled braid, moonlight peeking through the shadows, the calm of the forest at night, lying on the grass and staring at the stars, mother doe and her fawn, protecting their kin, the moon shimmering on a still lake, quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree, running with wolves, bonding while circled around a campfire, not being much of a people person, arrow hitting a target, popping egos, patience on 3%, touches heaven and returns howling

ATHENA / WISDOM.   discerning gaze, unreadable face, quiet museums, owl perched on their finger, armor that intimidates, eye for architecture, plays the sims for the sole purpose of building houses, studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid, big fan of logic, loves brain teasers, ancient buildings, sweaters in neutrals and cool colors, hair done up, can kill you with their brain, heads to the library often to research, sharpened pencils, abs that can cut steel, stoic statues, pottery classes

DEMETER / HARVEST. soil-covered hands, smile that can bloom flowers, skin loved by the sun, being the mom-friend, can lift you and your friends, flowers kept in the pockets of overalls, takes pride in their beautiful garden, speaks to their plants, leaves rustling in the wind, stalks of wheat, picking fruit, greenhouses, heart as strong as a mountain, values simplicity, daisies dotted across a collarbone, curls crowned with flowers, folded pile of sweaters in warm hues, pulling out fresh-baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air

DIONYSUS / MADNESS.   drunk shitposter, on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second, seductive smirks, untamed curls, rich fabrics on dark skin, sleek-furred panthers, theater masks, stage productions, receiving a standing ovation, rose caught between their teeth, being the baby of the bunch, wild parties that last from sundown to sunup, creeping vines, inspiring loyalty, grand opera houses, masquerade balls, rolls of film, shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine-spilled floor, pouring champagne into flutes, lives for the applause

HEPHAESTUS / CRAFTSMANSHIP.   the calloused hands of someone who knows labor, sweaty brow, flame burning in their eyes, inventive mind, broad shoulders, steampunk goggles, nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes, ashes, striking a match, blueprints for future projects, fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades, wrestles with bitterness, work boots have seen better years, wrinkled plaid shirts, iron melted in blazing fire, huge jackets, crafting masterpieces, greased-stained overalls, fascination with robotics, pain is fuel, stack of weaponry, even their muscles have muscles

HERA / MARRIAGE.   resting bitch face, dressed to the nines, cows grazing on a pasture, cool rain, loving and hating fiercely, hand clutching a string of pearls, large chandelier with glittering crystals, plays the sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims, romance to realism, pictures of the sky while flying on a plane, files that under fuck it, downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and netflix, like their selfie or you’re grounded, knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man, dark eyes that penetrate your soul, marble and gold

HERMES / MESSENGER.   devil-may-care smile, always up-to-date on the latest technology, will steal your french fries, does it for the vine, shitposter, puts googly eyes on everything, meme hoarder, long drives on the highway, ma and pop diners, spontaneous road trips, folded maps, fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop, shooting hoops on the basketball court, chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations, goes jogging in the morning, mixes redbull with coffee, menace on april fool’s, hoodies and sneakers

POSEIDON / SEA.   storm with skin, colorful coral reefs, waves crashing against the shore, stroking the soft fur of a cat, their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop, tousled locks, clothes smeared with paint, owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns to own more, leather jackets, fondness for diy projects, handwriting that flows across the page, nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin, velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams, mood as ever-changing as the sea, the roar of a motorcycle, compass with a spinning arrow

ZEUS / SKY.   thunder in their heart, running on coffee, flash of lightning, natural charisma, eloquence, badass in a nice suit, aficionado of history, force of nature, lenny face, nightmare-filled nights, proud arm around their lover’s waist, high-rise buildings, planes soaring through a cloudless sky, technician on the piano, maintains order, strong handshake, juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with ease, expensive watch

[zerogate]

The mute hermit had not accompanied the lama because of an injured foot. With the hilt of his prayer wheel imbedded in the ground, he watched intently as Hamid took out some small, bluish bits of organic matter from a plastic bag. It was the psilocybin that we had harvested several days earlier from its mycilium bed. Although neither of us had consumed anything similar since college (my roommate and I had tried unsuccessfully to grow them in canning jars in our dorm room closet), we had decided to eat a small amount before beginning the kora.

As we washed down the decomposing mushrooms with the hermit’s tea, he put out his hand, indicating that he would like to share whatever it was we had so carefully ingested. Hamid explained that the small mushrooms are akin to the revered but ever-elusive plant tsakuntuzangpo. They can induce visions, but not necessarily pleasant ones, Hamid told him. The yogi became even more eager. You might see demons, Hamid warned him. Or get sick. The yogi stretched out both of his hands insistently. Hamid and I looked at each other and realized that we had no choice but to allow him to share in our experiment. Hamid measured out a significant portion onto the yogi’s blackened palm. He washed them down with tea and, with a big grin on his face, went back to spinning his prayer wheel.

-- Ian Baker, Heart of the World

[yakshia]

OLYMPIAN AESTHETICS. repost, do not reblog!

APHRODITE / LOVE. laughter-loving, sweet smiles, dressed in silk and satin, flower in their hair, sees the world as a runway, unapologetically sexual, the sea washing their ankles, in love with love, stirrer of passion, cunning concealed by painted lips, secret daggers, doves, revolution in their kiss,delighting in the waves, flirtatious winks, strolling along the beach, staring wistfully from a balcony, this is how to be a heartbreaker, wants to be adored, gets turned on by danger

APOLLO / SUN.   glitz and glamour, art galleries, turning the volume up, being made of gold, neatly-organized music sheets, notebooks filled with poetry, bathing in the sunlight, the powerful urge to create, collecting vinyl records, beautiful cover of wonderwall, playing multiple instruments, tasting like sunshine, healing touch, speaking in prophecies, smile mingled with wrath, shunning lies, sporting shades, hanging out at music festivals with their friends, sleeps naked, arrow to the heart, paint brushes, probably has a tinder account

ARES / WAR.   armed for battle, wants to raise a dog with their significant other, soft spot for children,gives piggyback rides, scarred body, blood on their hands and face, willing to fight the world for the ones they love, fights against injustice, warm hugs, well-worn combat boots, boxing gloves,bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles, fist raised in protest, ignites revolutions, fear is a prison, more sensitive than what their tough shell would have you think, exhausted, damaged goods, force to be reckoned with, red roses, curses under their breath

ARTEMIS / WILDERNESS.   keen sense of a hunter, freckles like constellations on their skin, piercing eyes, dishevelled braid, moonlight peeking through the shadows, the calm of the forest at night, lying on the grass and staring at the stars, mother doe and her fawn, protecting their kin, the moon shimmering on a still lake, quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree, running with wolves, bonding while circled around a campfire, not being much of a people person, arrow hitting a target, popping egos, patience on 3%, touches heaven and returns howling

ATHENA / WISDOM.   discerning gaze, unreadable face, quiet museums, owl perched on their finger, armor that intimidates, eye for architecture, plays the sims for the sole purpose of building houses, studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid, big fan of logic, loves brain teasers, ancient buildings, sweaters in neutrals and cool colors, hair done up, can kill you with their brain, heads to the library often to research, sharpened pencils, abs that can cut steel, stoic statues, pottery classes

DEMETER / HARVEST. soil-covered hands, smile that can bloom flowers, skin loved by the sun, being the mom-friend, can lift you and your friends, flowers kept in the pockets of overalls, takes pride in their beautiful garden, speaks to their plants, leaves rustling in the wind, stalks of wheat, picking fruit, greenhouses, heart as strong as a mountain, values simplicity, daisies dotted across a collarbone, curls crowned with flowers, folded pile of sweaters in warm hues, pulling out fresh-baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air

DIONYSUS / MADNESS.   drunk shitposter, on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second, seductive smirks, untamed curls, rich fabrics on dark skin, sleek-furred panthers, theater masks, stage productions, receiving a standing ovation, rose caught between their teeth, being the baby of the bunch, wild parties that last from sundown to sunup, creeping vines,inspiring loyalty, grand opera houses, masquerade balls, rolls of film, shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine-spilled floor, pouring champagne into flutes, lives for the applause

HEPHAESTUS / CRAFTSMANSHIP.   the calloused hands of someone who knows labor, sweaty brow, flame burning in their eyes, inventive mind, broad shoulders, steampunk goggles, nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes,ashes, striking a match, blueprints for future projects, fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades, wrestles with bitterness, work boots have seen better years, wrinkled plaid shirts, iron melted in blazing fire, huge jackets, crafting masterpieces, greased-stained overalls, fascination with robotics, pain is fuel, stack of weaponry, even their muscles have muscles

HERA / MARRIAGE.   resting bitch face, dressed to the nines, cows grazing on a pasture, cool rain, loving and hating fiercely, hand clutching a string of pearls, large chandelier with glittering crystals, plays the sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims, romance to realism, pictures of the sky while flying on a plane, files that under fuck it, downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and netflix, like their selfie or you’re grounded, knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man, dark eyes that penetrate your soul, marble and gold

HERMES / MESSENGER.   devil-may-care smile, always up-to-date on the latest technology, will steal your french fries,does it for the vine, shitposter, puts googly eyes on everything, meme hoarder, long drives on the highway, ma and pop diners, spontaneous road trips, folded maps, fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop, shooting hoops on the basketball court, chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations, goes jogging in the morning, mixes redbull with coffee,menace on april fool’s, hoodies and sneakers

POSEIDON / SEA.   storm with skin, colorful coral reefs, waves crashing against the shore, stroking the soft fur of a cat, their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop, tousled locks, clothes smeared with paint, owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns to own more, leather jackets, fondness for diy projects, handwriting that flows across the page, nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin, velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams, mood as ever-changing as the sea, the roar of a motorcycle, compass with a spinning arrow

ZEUS / SKY.   thunder in their heart, running on coffee, flash of lightning, natural charisma, eloquence,badass in a nice suit, aficionado of history, force of nature, lenny face, nightmare-filled nights, proud arm around their lover’s waist, high-rise buildings, planes soaring through a cloudless sky, technician on the piano, maintains order, strong handshake, juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with ease, expensive watch

TAGGED BY :  i found this on an old blog while inspo hunting. TAGGING: take it and tag me !

[shopofthemoment]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: new Tata Harper 𖦹 Clarifying Cleanser Oil Control 𖦹 4.1 oz Glass Jar 𖦹 in Box.