#RIP to anyone viewing this on mobile

[parisoonic]

I'm so sorry these are all just images with my duff handwriting (I thought I had more half-sketched things than I actually did WHOOPS) but here's a bunch of comic scripts I've had chilling for ages (and this is like...a fraction of them lol).

Anyways for 2k followers (!!!) I thought I'd do something a bit bigger than I have been drawing lately SO if you have a preference about what you'd like to see finished here's your chance 😊 I'll run this poll for like 48 hours (wait...there's only two choices? 1 day or 1 week smh...a week it is) and then get to work 🫡

[lilacura]

Across the Ruins | Ahn Yujin

pairing: ahn yujin x fem!reader

>wc: 1.1k

sypnosis: Yujin and Y/N were in love until war split them up. time later, tragedy reunites them on a battlefield - but only long enough for Yujin to hold Y/N as she takes her last breaths. Devastated, Yujin is now driven by one thing: revenge.

The dust slowly began to clear, revealing the devastated landscape around her. Yujin coughed, trying to wave away the cloud of dirt and debris in front of her face. Her ears were still ringing from the explosion. As her vision focused, the full scale of the destruction came into view.

There were bodies scattered all around her - some soldiers from her side, but many from the opposing force. She tried not to look too closely at their mangled forms. A few survivors were starting to stir, groaning in pain. In the distance, she could see those who were still mobile retreating from the blast site.

The bomb had done its job, delivering a crippling blow to the enemy forces gathered in this valley. But at what cost? War always demands sacrifices, she knew, no matter how much the idea turned her stomach. She had long since grown numb to death, having witnessed more than her fair share on the battlefield.

But today, something felt different. As she struggled to her feet amidst the wreckage, a feeling of dread started to creep over her. Her instincts were screaming that something wasn't right.

That's when she spotted a familiar figure lying facedown in the dirt just a few feet away. Even covered in dust, she would recognize that silhouette anywhere.

"No…" she gasped, staggering towards the unmoving form. With trembling hands, she gently rolled the body over, her worst fears confirmed.

"Y/N…" Her name escaped Yujin's lips as a tormented whisper. There was no mistaking those beautiful features, now marred with pain. Blood streamed from a gash on her forehead, matting her hair. But her eyes remained closed, chest motionless.

Yujin pulled Y/N's limp body into her arms, holding her tightly as if her embrace alone could will her beloved back to life. Hot tears burned tracks down her dirty cheeks. "Please don't leave me," she sobbed. "Not after all this time."

Memories of happier days long past flooded Yujin's mind. She remembered laughter and soft kisses shared in the privacy of their little apartment, before the world went mad. Back when they had a future to look forward to together.

They had met in their last year of university, bonded by a shared love of music and late nights discussing their dreams. Y/N was unlike anyone Yujin had ever known - beautiful inside and out, with a passionate soul that resonated with her own. Before long, they became inseparable, finding solace and inspiration in one another.

Things moved quickly after that. Within months, Yujin knew she had fallen irrevocably for this girl. When Y/N echoed the sentiment, the joy and rightness of it all had left Yujin feeling like the luckiest person alive.

After graduation, they decided to get a place together in the city. Yujin had never been happier than walking through the front door of their tiny apartment for the first time, hand in hand with Y/N. Every new experience in this new chapter of life was made all the sweeter by having her best friend at her side.

They dreamed of travelling the world together, of creating art that could spread beauty and hope. Through hard work and dedication to their craft, it seemed like anything was possible for them as a team. Yujin truly believed their future was brighter than the sun.

But then the war came, ripping their bliss apart. Overnight, their countries became bitter enemies, forcing Yujin and Y/N to reluctantly choose sides. It was the saddest day of Yujin's life when she had to say goodbye, not knowing if they would ever meet again once they parted ways.

She and Y/N had argued bitterly then, torn between duty and devotion in a way that left scars. Yujin regretted some of the harsh things said in anguish. All she wanted in that moment was to flee with Y/N and abandon the conflict, to preserve what they had built together. But it just wasn't that simple.

And now, through some cruel twist of fate, they had been reunited here on the battlefield - only for Y/N to be torn from her all over again. The bitter irony was not lost on Yujin.

She held Y/N close as body-wracking sobs shook her frame. All around her was desolation, but in that moment Yujin felt more alone than ever before. The emptiness inside threatened to consume her.

A gasp suddenly cut through the haze of grief. Eyes fluttering open, Y/N drew in a raspy breath, weakly gripping Yujin's arm.

"Y…Yujin…" Her voice was barely a whisper, lips quivering into a painful smile.

Overcome with relief and anguish, Yujin showered Y/N's face with trembling kisses between tears. "I'm here, love. Please don't go…"

Y/N coughed, each exhale labored as crimson flecks spotted her lips. With effort, she lifted a shaking hand to gently caress Yujin's cheek one last time.

"I never…stopped…loving you," Y/N rasped. A tear rolled down her dirtied cheek. "I'm sorry…we ended up on…opposite sides."

"Shhh, don't apologize," Yujin choked out, leaning into Y/N's touch. "This war means nothing. Only you have ever meant anything."

She gripped Y/N's hand tightly, as if to somehow pass what remaining strength she had left. But it was a futile effort to stall the inevitable. Y/N's eyes drifted shut once more, head falling limply to the side. And just like that, her fragile grip loosened as the last spark of life left her broken body.

Yujin's anguished wail rent the air, echoing across the ruined valley in a despairing cry of loss. clutching Y/N close, she poured out every last shred of regret, guilt and sorrow until she had nothing left.

All those years lost to war, and this was how they ended - worlds apart even in death. As the sun began to set over the aftermath of carnage, Yujin tasted only bitterness. She had failed to protect the one thing in this world that ever truly mattered.

The future they had once dreamed of building was gone forever, leaving Yujin alone with only memories of what could have been. Huddling over Y/N's lifeless corpse, tears continued to flow freely until darkness swallowed the land whole. An ache was born in Yujin's heart that night that would never fully heal.

From that point on, the war had a new purpose for Yujin - vengeance, in Y/N's name. She would ensure their homeland paid dearly for taking the love of her life. No matter the cost, she vowed Y/N's death would not be in vain. The bloodshed had only just begun.

a/n: I CAN NEVER FIND THE RIGHT COLOR FOR THE DIVIDERS ITS SO ANNOYING

[the-eldritch-it-gay]

OC Meme

I was tagged by @babeoffrontiers <3!

Name: Majexatli (pronounced roughly Mah-heh-sha-lee in English)

Nickname: Asha (by Althyran), Tli (by daring close friends)

Gender: Indigiqueer (they/them)

Star sign: They don’t even know what year they were born, let alone month or day rip. I imagine they were born in the summer though.

Height: 6’6

Orientation: polyamorous bisexual

Race: Zariel Tiefling

Romancing: mainly Wyll & Karlach, though also the adventuring party is a complicated polycule where they’re also dating Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Halsin and have something complicated with Astarion

Fave fruit: Apples, blackberries

Fave season: Autumn

Fave flower: Aconitum, digitalis, cempasúchil

Fave scent: Cedar, smoke, sage, blood

Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate: Tea

Average sleep hours: Far too few... they are a bit of an insomniac unfortunately. They had been working on trying to get more sleep before the adventure, but the whole tadpoles and cult thing going on did set them back quite a bit.

Dogs or cats: They like both, but prefer dogs (and their son, the owlbear cub)

Dream trip: anywhere back in Northwestern Faerûn, they would prefer somewhere outside of the cities but would be willing to also visit Waterdeep or Neverwinter. They don't really have anywhere they call home, but they often wandered in Northwestern Faerûn and feel more at home there.

Amount of blankets: Usually they don’t sleep with a blanket, because they commonly will sleep in Wildshape. Out of wildshape they sometimes will also sleep without a blanket, but have some furs to cozy up in if it’s cold.

Random fact(s):

They have better control and skill with Wildshape than the average druid. They were only ~14 when they were able to Wildshape for the first time, and have spent a significant portion of their life in Wildshape. (For comparison, Wildshape is mechanically a 2nd level ability for druids)

Contrary to the Everything about them, they are not a Durge.

Despite pretending to be a Silvanus Worshipping Druid, Majexatli in fact hates Silvanus, considers themselves an ex-druid, and worships Malar, a chaotic evil deity of hunting, stalking, and the violence of beasts.

They worship Malar with a level of devotion that over the years has in fact granted them several boons (and perhaps some curses, depending on your view). One of which is what I call pseudo-lycanthropy, where they are not a lycanthrope but are about as close as you can get without actually being one.

At the age of 18, they received the title of Faithwarden, becoming the youngest druid to gain a title in their circle’s history. They were stripped of the title a little over a year later, though Majexatli ran off into exile before any official rulings

They often use Wildshape as a sort of mobility aid, almost, since their mobility is limited outside of it.

I am too anxious atm to tag anyone specific, but if anyone sees this and wants to do this, consider youself tagged!

[carriehobbs]

I saw you tagged Ellery Wiseman on that poem and am dropping into your inbox to ask for anything you'd like to share about your Button!! (Do you have more than one? Who do they romance? How is their relationship with Nick?) -wayhavenots

omg pd tysm for asking!! 💕💕 there is absolutely nothing in the world i love more than having an excuse to talk about my ocs

i (with some rare exceptions) am the kind of if player that makes a new oc for every romance route i play, so i actually have 5 buttons 🫣 (technically 6, rip elliot wiseman who was from my very first mind blind playthrough, when i just wanted to see if i liked the game. you were very depressed and never became a fully-realized button, but your sacrifice is remembered and your name is retired out of respect). i have a page with very, very brief details on my buttons (and also my detectives for wayhaven) and links to their tags here, but if you use tumblr mobile you've probably never had the opportunity to see it.

this got so very, very long, so the rest is under the cut

my 5 buttons are: ella, ellie, elle, ellis, and ellery (can you guess what naming convention i lifted from the game's default names? lol). what's universally true for all 5 of them (though with some nuance, they all have slightly different feelings about their relationships) is that they're as close as they can be with their parents (because i like john and hope as characters and i find "i really love these people but our relationship became incredibly complicated and we now have to find ways to reconcile our disappointment/anger/etc. with our love for them" to be really compelling. i love mess) and with nick (because i'm a middle child and i accidentally projected my feelings about my siblings (and especially my older sister) onto the button&nick relationship. i physically can't be mean to nick because i cried for about 45 minutes the first time i read the end of chapter 3/chapter 4 and for the first time really considered my sister's mortality, and that changes you).

for a (not really that brief, whoops) rundown of my buttons' whole deals:

ella: equally humorous and confident, very high insightful stat, romancing ambrose. she's independent, intelligent, ambitious, loyal, great at compartmentalizing, and, quite frankly, arrogant. she can be really abrasive sometimes (while she can be a kind and compassionate person, most people don't get to see that side of her and so she can come off as really rather unpleasant - think that know-it-all kid in your class that everyone kind of hates). ella naturally is rather funny/confident/intelligent/etc., but i think, after the incident with hope, she ended up amplifying these inherent traits of hers and making them into a sort of armour that keeps her safe, but also isolates her. i think she's afraid of showing weakness and i think she feels this subconscious need to prove to everyone (including herself) that she's capable. her relationship with nick is the worst out of all of my buttons (but is still incredibly high, think 160/170-ish approval), mainly because she and nick clash the most. she's very independent and knows what she wants and will pursue it (even if it's a boyfriend her brother doesn't like or a career her parents don't want for her) no matter what anyone else thinks, and nick can be a little hover-y (though this improves over the events of the game). she does really love nick (and does actually care about his approval, even if it won't stop her from doing things she knows he won't like), even if she finds him kind of annoying sometimes. she views the incident with hope as a horrible accident that wasn't anyone's fault, and i think she sees better than my other buttons how everyone in the family was affected by the fallout. fun fact: several years post-game, she and ambrose have identical twin girls (ella jokes that she wanted two kids so she and ambrose had twins because "we're efficient". they have girls because ambrose is a girl dad. i am not accepting notes) that share a birthday with nick (because i need ambrose to be forced to participate in a large yearly party that at least partially involves celebrating nick. do you know how many years nick rented a bouncy castle and then proceeded to bounce on the bouncy castle with the girls? it's every year until they decided they're too cool for it. nick's heart broke that day)

eleanor/ellie: more humorous than confident (with confident stat increasing through the game), but has a decent morbid stat too, very high insightful stat, romancing grayson. ellie fulfills my need in every if game/rpg i play to have at least one character who is so, so nice to everyone (my detective alina fulfills this need in wayhaven). she's kind, considerate, forgiving, has a strong sense of morals (except at work, where she's very expedient), and tends to blame herself when things go wrong. she really feels just unbearably guilty about most things: the incident with hope (if she'd acted differently, if she'd been different, etc., maybe it wouldn't have happened), nick's accident in chapter 3, nick having to take care of her through high school... she really struggled after the incident with hope because she needed nick and depended on him so much, but then hated herself for how much she needed him and feeling like she ruined his life (she did project this onto gray when he started hanging around, which is why she didn't like him at first, but over time she realized it wasn't his fault and moved on. and then she got goopy feelings for him). she's not blind to nick's faults, but she adores him (200 approval easily). i think a lot of her growth over the course of the game comes from learning to trust herself and to believe in herself. fun fact: she once made a joke to gray after they started dating (in front of nick and sally too 😬) without thinking about how there'd be "no kids or dog until we have a house". it was way too early in the relationship to be making a joke about having kids or a house. they didn't even live together yet. she's still a little mortified that she said that

elle: confident, very high insightful stat, romancing kent. i love elle because she's kind of relentlessly forward-thinking. she doesn't really dwell on the past except to figure out how to improve the future. she believes strongly that it's what someone does that matters. she's my button who's the most interested in trying to get herself into the npo program. like ella, i think she views the incident with hope as a horrible accident that isn't really anyone's fault, and i think she really makes an effort not to dwell on it or assign blame for what happened. she also has terminal foot-in-mouth disease (talking about bondage with kent in front of your brother, best friend, and instructor after revealing that you'll probably get tortured together, anyone?), which is the bane of her existence. while i think all my buttons struggled with some agoraphobia post-the incident with hope, i think elle really struggled with it: she loves dogs and used to volunteer at an animal shelter, but had to stop because she couldn't handle being outside of her home without sally or nick (she could go to school if she spent the entire day with sally, and then would go straight home) and it took several months for her to feel like she could go places without one or both of them again. once she was able to leave her home independently, she started volunteering at the animal shelter again, and is still there. fun fact: post-game and further into their relationship, she ends up accidentally moving in with kent. it starts by just spending a lot of time at his place because it's so close to nick's (i think a lot of her and kent's dates just involve hanging out together), then more and more of her stuff migrates over, until one day she realizes she's been there for two weeks and all of her clothes are in kent's laundry. she formally moves in after that. she's also my button who's most likely to elope!

ellis: humorous-morbid (slightly more morbid than humorous), tentatively more innovative than insightful (i keep swapping the stats), romancing sally. he's "just some guy" (affectionate) to me, if "just some guy" had gallows' humour. he's been kind of desperately in love with sally since he was 13 and figured out what love was. ellis is the kind of person who looks fine on the surface but really isn't. whereas elle doesn't dwell on the incident with hope because she wants to move forward with her life and not have this one event define her, ellis doesn't dwell on it because doing so will wreck him. he was the closest with hope growing up, since they shared a sense of humour and he felt that she really understood him, and it profoundly hurt when she started to pull away as he got older. he trusted her more than anyone growing up and it hurts a lot now to think about how the people he relies on most now are nick and sally instead. he's not as forward about the guilt he feels and how it affects him as ellie or ellery are, but it's still there. he's also very close with nick and really admires him: nick is ellis's model for what it means to "be a man" (more so than john, but i don't think ellis is really aware of this). ellis also views gray as a sort of quasi-older brother figure and is actually more likely to ask gray for relationship or life advice than nick (mainly because he'd feel a little awkward talking to nick about stuff like relationship advice - also look at nick's relationship track record, gray's probably the safer bet). fun fact: ellis is either the same height as nick or one inch shorter than nick (i can never remember), so if they're out together and the topic of height comes up, he tells people that he's at least two inches shorter than he actually is. this is because nick will lie about his height to make himself taller if given the chance, so ellis gets there first and forces nick to be 5ft9 for an evening (nick hates this).

ellery: humorous, higher insightful stat than interpersonal stat, romancing (m!)glitch. she's such a smartass. she's all jokes and has a quip ready for any situation, but, like ella, i think these are inherent characteristics of hers that get amplified as a defense mechanism. i think it's in chapter 1 of the demo that there's the line that says it's better to have people laughing with you than at you, and that really fits ellery. ellery blames herself for really everything to do with hope and nick, but if she brushes it off with a joke she can pretend to be fine (she's incredibly not - her guilt defines a lot of her relationships with other people and how she views herself). she's also incredibly devoted to her family (to the point where she can't listen to someone criticize them professionally because like. that's her dad. this sometimes causes issues in her and glitch's relationship, because glitch is unafraid to criticize unity when appropriate, but they figure out how to manage it over time). speaking of glitch: she is such a loverrrrrrr 💕💕💕 they really are intolerable together because they're that couple that's just all over each other. everyone around them hopes they'll tone it down after the honeymoon stage ends but they do not 💕 i imagine them moving in together incredibly quickly too. i don't know the exact timeline of the game so far, but even this early on, ellery knows that he's it for her. ellery makes me think the most about what it would actually be like to not only grow up with people who are able to hear your every thought but to never live with someone who can't read your mind. i always imagine ellery as being very comfortable communicating telepathically when she chooses to (she almost got held back from preschool because she didn't speak until she was 3/4 - not because she had speech or language delays, but because why would she speak out loud when she could communicate telepathically? eventually telepathic communication had to be (temporarily) banned in the house to get ellery to speak verbally, and once she did the ban was lifted). telepathic communication also means an entirely different way of communicating between people: visual jokes, jokes where the comedy isn't in the punchline but in the way the joke is constructed before it's been told, being able to rely on the person you're talking to picking up subtleties from your thoughts if you're having trouble expressing yourself in words, etc. and glitch is the first person she's ever lived with who can't read her mind (sometimes she'll be in another room half way through a conversation with glitch in her head and she'll ask him for his opinion on something she thought, only for him to have to remind her that he cannot hear her. luckily glitch finds this funny when it happens and lightly ribs her about it). she gets incredibly frustrated with herself sometimes because she doesn't know how to explain to him how much he means to her or how much she loves him. she tries, but she never feels like it really encompasses the depth of the feeling (it's the one time she wishes he was a ment, so he could hear it). fun fact: about a year into their relationship, ellery wrote glitch a really bad love poem to try and express her feelings for glitch in a way that's meaningful to him. glitch loved it and insisted that it was beautiful, but she thinks it's amateur and is kind of embarrassed about it because he quotes actual love poetry to her all the time. this poem does actually exist because i wrote it to try and get in her head space and figure out what she'd say, and it's mid at best (i am not a poet)

[dumpdaily]

Maybe I'll write here more. I hate keep things to myself but also in a lot of ways this is basically the same as that. I don't really think anyone will read anything here.

I don't really know what I am doing with my life now. I was trying to get shit sorted so I could be with the person I love. But every time things seemed to be working out some bullshit would hit. Either real world bullshit like losing my job and not being able to walk. Or mental bullshit. Obviously one effects the other. But now he's dead. So it's not like I can figure out how to be with my love anymore because death is game over screen.

I'm basically lost as shit. I used to enjoy playing games, reading, trying to maintain basic life needs. Past tense. I've been struggling for a while with some of the stuff that's now hitting me full force. I'm finally regaining more of my mobility back. But what's the point. Why even bother trying. In a lot of ways he was my hope. We were both dealing with our own bullshit though. idk.

Always looking for reasons to keep trying; Always followed by the reality of the hopelessness I am now trying to outrun again. He said it sounded like despair. I go through these cycles and I can't see outside of this moment. Living as we do is a curse. Right now I am not being crushed by the weight of it all. But part of me is.

I repeat things like a mantra, like a prayer, like a cry for help. Saying the only constant in the world is change. Or all things in balance. Or whatever. Desperately reaching out for anyone to give me a reason to keep holding onto these threads. Holding onto these words. Holding onto something. So intangible.

Right now I don't know what I believe. I've lost people before but nothing has effected me like this. I wonder if he's a ghost haunting me. I talk to him like he is because the alternative is too much for me to bear (I also genuinely believe it but I struggle with reality so it's tricky). Is this okay? Suddenly I wonder about reincarnation and think it might be real.

I've never much cared what happens after we die. Always figured it doesn't matter because we'd all be dead when we're dead. You get buried or whatever and all that happens past that point of death is for those who are still alive. I recently learned that I probably get this view from my grandpa.

I might never recover. It feels like my heart has been ripped out. But it no longer feels like broken glass was shoved inside my chest trying to tear its way out. I'm able to keep food down again. Sometimes I still want to die to end all this bullshit and not have to deal with life. I am so tired. Exhausted. But sometimes I feel okay. And I think of him always. I have been changed. And I will keep changing. Perhaps one day things will feel okay. Perhaps things will be good. Perhaps. Knowing my luck I'll die as soon as things seem to be working out. Whatever is to come is still undecided and that at least is something on which we can rely.

[rxgnor0k]

Dear, Billy - B.Hargrove

Masterlist➢𖤓

Summary: <You visit Billy’s grave, and read out a letter you made for him before you possibly perish.>

Pairings: <Billy Hargrove x vecna cursed!reader>

Warnings: <angst, description of an afterlife, mentions of sex (just once), mentions of reincarnation >

a/n: <takes place during season 4 ofc. instead of max, it’s the reader who goes to the graveyard. i decided to make this scene a bit more relaxed and not in a rush like in the show (if that makes sense). Also, Eddie isn’t being hunted down by the infamous jocks. In conclusion, i changed a few things up. this is my first time writing for stranger things, so yea. Also if someone knows how to put the “view post” or “keep reading” tab on posts to shorten them on mobile, pls let me know asap. Au Revoir!>

creds for gif: @virginsuicide

⚠️ i will not allow anyone copy and pasting my work into any other social platform or site without consulting with me first ⚠️

꧁❦꧂

You sat in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van, along with Eddie, Steve, Dustin, and Lucas who sat in the back two rows. Leaning against the car window, you choose not to participate in the group conversation, preparing yourself for what was to come next. You knew you were possessed with vecna’s curse, and that you could do nothing about it. It only made sense to visit the ones you loved most, in case anything were to happen earlier than expected.

“Ok, love dove,” Eddie started, pulling over to the side of the road. “We’re here.”

You unbuckled your seat belt, and opened the door, grabbing the piece of notebook paper that was left untouched until now.

“Thanks, Eds,” you smiled, adjusting the strap of the bag that lay on your shoulder.

“We’ll be here till you come back,” Munson replied, stopping the car. “Take as long as you need, dear.”

“Of course,” you nodded, proceeding to the large graveyard that sat in front of you. Fidgeting with the paper, you took a deep breathe in, motivating yourself. Breathing out, you began searching for Billy’s grave.

After a brief few minutes of searching, you finally found his tombstone. The only tombstone that didn’t have any flowers, not yet at least. You brought yourself down to the grass, and sat with your legs crossed.

“Hey, Billy,” you greeted, meeting with a calm silence.

As the birds chirped and the wind howled, you inspected the tombstone, and made out every detail possible. Ripped up grass sprawled around the headstone, neither was it clean. It certainly didn’t look like anybody had been here for a while.

“I just wanted to stop by and say hello before I possibly… die,” you said, marking you words with a sad yet funny tone. “Wow, surprising, right,”

“Oh! I wrote a letter for you,” you blurted, realizing what you had came here for. You struggled to fish out the paper in your bag, but remembered it was right next to you the whole time, hidden under your long skirt.

“Here it is,” you picked up the paper, unfolding it.

“Dear Billy,” you began, clearing your throat.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“Dear Billy,

It’s been a couple months since you-know-what happened, and the world definitely hasn’t been the same since. Tommy H and Carol are still their same bitchy selves, can’t really get enough of that can we? A lot of crazy shit has happened in the last couple of days, a lot more crazier than what happened last summer.

How are you? I’m doing fine, just the same old Y/n. You know that Munson kid? Yea, he’s pretty sick, he’s got this guitar and it’s really cool looking. I know he’s not your kind of person, but once you get to know him, he’s really sweet. Harringtons got chicks now, now that you’re gone and most girls in this town aren’t fawning over you, including the moms.

I miss you, we all miss you. Especially Max. Neil left, and ran away to who knows where. Max has gotten really, even a bit too quiet. I think now that your gone, I feel very isolated. I miss when you’d climb into my bedroom from my window after a party, or Neil. I miss when you’d let me style your hair. I miss those late night drives in your Camaro. I miss when you’d talk to me about California, and how nice it was. I miss when you’d let me borrow your earrings, Max gave them to me when cleaning your stuff out. I miss those names you called me. I miss us flirting at the pool when you’re on duty and the moms saw. I miss your pretty eyes, and the way they’d sparkle in the moonlight. I definitely miss the sex. But lastly, I just miss us being together, and hanging out everyday. I mean, yea I have friends, but they’re just friends, nothing more. Now that I think about it, those were 10 things I miss about you.

I tell myself that I should move on focus on other things, such as college or trying to find a job that I actually enjoy. My mom says that I’m stuck in the past, which I most definitely am. It just feels so unfair, you know? Now that I’m practically dying, maybe I’ll see you soon? Perhaps in an afterlife, or we could just reincarnate into a life where we’ll both be happy. Oh Billy, I’m so scared. I’m really scared of this vecna bitch that just goes around killing teens. I really wish you were here. I love you, Billy Hargrove.

xoxo,

Y/n L/n “

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

By now, your eyes welled up with tears, as well as your nose runny as fuck. You covered your mouth, stopping the scream of anguish from escaping your lips. You were sobbing so hard that you could perhaps run out of tears.

“I’m so sorry, Billy,” you weeped, trying to breathe to really get your words out.

Covering your face with your hands, you struggled to take a good breathe.

Eventually, you cooled down and just sat in pure silence, taking in the peace of nature that stood around you.

“Oh, shit,” you said, looking down at your watch. “I better get going, Billy. Don’t wanna keep Ed’s waiting any longer than he should’ve.”

You stood, brushing off all the dirt and grass that stuck to your long skirt. You took the flowers you prepared out of your bag, and placed them gently in front of the headstone. You began to walk back to the van, wanting to finish today with a nice long bath.

Taking a glance of the now “flowered” tombstone, you remarked, “I hope you were listening, Bills, I really put me heart and soul into that shit.”

You let out a breathy laugh, remembering the struggle of having to write that letter.

“Oh I sure did, Princess,” a manly voice said.

That voice, why is it so familiar?

You turn back, and suddenly everything was dark, as if the sun had stopped working. It was so dark that you couldn’t even see past 5 feet. The air felt a lot colder than it had been 10 seconds ago.

“Hello? Who’s there?” you asked as your voice had drawn out into a murmur.

“No need to be afraid, darlin’” the voice chortled, seemingly getting closer.

A shrivel went down your spine as you froze in place. All the blood in your face had went away, making you pale as you could ever be.

“Billy?! Billy, is that you?!” you gasped, shocked at the current event.

From where the presence was, you couldn’t make out it’s face. But as it got closer, and moved into a spot with light, you were stunned.

It was Billy, indeed.

Imitating your shocked face, mouth dropped and eyes wide open, he let out a breathy laugh and winked at you.

“Hi ya’, doll.”

꧁❦꧂

a/n: I'm not sure what can over me to write this, but I definitely enjoyed. sorry for not posting in a while, things got busy, my dog's not doing well, and I hav no motivation. I'm currently obsessed with Lestat de Lioncourt, which doesn help with anything. The only thing keeping me going is literally just tumblr. oml, I'm so excited for vol. 2 of strangers things season 4 to come out, I'm just super anxious to see who dies, bc apparently it's confirmed by the Duffer brothers that five people are going to die during vol. 2 👀. i’m also going to a GVF concert in Anaheim in November, so yea. Adieu!

Reposts and requests are always welcomed! Make sure to go check ou my other stuff! My masterlist is linked at th top of the page! Thank you for reading my fan fic!

[uwmspeccoll]

Celebrating Black History Month

This week, we bring you A Wreath For Emmett Till, a Coretta Scott King Book Award and Michael L. Printz Award honor book published in 2005 by the Houghton Mifflin Company and written by award winning poet, author, educator, and translator, Marilyn Nelson. Nelson is the daughter of one of the last Tuskegee Airmen, and keeping with the family tradition of making history, Nelson is a three-time finalist for the National Book Award, winner of the Robert Frost medal, served as Connecticut's poet laureate from 2001 to 2006, and recipient of many other honors and awards.

In the form of a Petrarchan sonnet, Nelson shares the harrowing story of the 1955 lynching of 14 year old Emmett Till. Nelson was nine years old when this atrocity occurred and bore witness to the international outrage stemming from the case’s lack of due-justice. This notoriety led to Emmett Till’s mother Mamie Till Mobley becoming a key civil rights activist. Meant to be used as an educational tool for young adults when covering the topics of racism and hate crimes against Black Americans, Nelson creates a lyrical masterpiece of 14 poems that make reference to many other famous poets’ works, which our copy has a full set of notes on. The ending poem is an acrostic, made up of the first letter from every individual poem’s title, spelling out “RIP EMMETT L TILL”. Each sonnet’s title can be read as a line within the individual poem and can also be read as its own poem when compiled.

Emmett Till’s story kickstarted the Civil Rights Movement of the 1950s and 60s, paving the way for Rosa Parks’ and Martin Luther King, Jr.’s boycott of the Montgomery bus system through Mamie Mobley’s mobilization of the Black Chicago community. Marilyn Nelson’s poetry, alongside illustrations by Swiss artist Philippe Lardy, asks us to reflect on where we are today and to remember how we got here:

This country we love has a Janus face: One mouth speaks with forked tongue, the other reads the Constitution. My country, ‘tis of both thy nightmare history and thy grand dream, thy centuries of good and evil deeds, I sing. . . .

A perfect selection for anyone wishing to learn more about the beginnings of the Civil Rights Movement of the 1950s and 60s. 

View another post on A Wreath for Emmett Till.

View more of our Black History Month posts.

--Isabelle, Special Collections Undergraduate Writing Intern

                                 Emmett Till and Mamie Till Mobley

                                                  Marilyn Nelson

[rand0mfreak]

Those comments you're getting are awful. >< I'm sorry, man. Keep your chin up. You're not weak for feeling bad when people say such horrible shit to you. I think most anyone would feel the same.

(I apologize, I don't have any idea how old those posts are because it's such a massive hassle to figure that out on mobile RIP. but either way I wanna send you support.)

Thank you, I am struggling on fitting in with others and my intrusive thoughts as I feel alienated when it happens. I wish people were more respectful to people like me, I don't think I belong in America as people views are so different from mine. I wish to escape this world but my parents won't allow it.

[killyourrdarlingss]

Character Interview - Dennis Dustin Monroe

tysm to @henbased for tagging me in this !! did it take forever ? absolutely! but, it was so, so worth it. and of course I chose Jacob because he can actually get info out of Dennis lol.

This is written in a much simpler style, very just one line, action, etc, or else this would have been 10k and honestly i just dont have the energy-- so script style ? kinda.  

(formatting broke please look at this work on my actual blog/desktop site for proper format, no idea how to fix this but it looks BAD on mobile, if anyone does lmk) 

TW for extremely negative views, past mentions of death, unhealthy coping mechanisms, smoking, blood.

Dennis is called in by Jacob for a chat and definitely isn’t an intimidation technique of any kind since Joseph's taken a liking to Dennis.

 Nah, definitely not. 

-

-

“State your name.” 

He falters, tucks a strand of hair behind his ear, looks anywhere but Jacob’s eyes. 

  “It’s Dennis.”

  “Full name.” 

“Dennis Dustin Monroe.” a pause,

 “I really hate it though, if i’m honest… and seems like if I’m staying down here, I should be.” 

A scoff, or a laugh, a chuckle? Dennis doesn’t think too much into it. 

“Relationship status.” not asked like a question, Dennis observes.

  “Single..? I…” 

  “Really?” 

  Dennis has to bite back a comment. 

“And you're happy with that, I’m guessing?” he doesn't look amused, he just leans back a bit, exhales like Dennis is boring him.

“Being single or just in general? because it’s complicated.” 

  a pause, “for both.”

“Do you have a smoke, or something–” 

  He feels like he’s choking. 

“Are you happy?”

  Dennis bites at a hangnail, 

  “I don’t think so.” 

Jacob nods, the chair creaks under him.

  “You’re angry?” 

  “Yeah.” 

  “At what, what are you mad at?” 

He rips the hangnail from his finger, spits it away from Jacob on the floor and sucks at the blood forming.

  “Who knows.” 

Jacob’s foot taps on the floor, Dennis’ eyes shoot up, 

  “Myself–” Dennis doesn’t feel like talking but he does, his eyes are watering and Jacob’s unmoving like a stone, 

He blinks once,

  “I wish it was me.” 

Jacob doesn't prod, hums under his breath.

  “Let's move on.”

Dennis looks away.

“Your family, parents, are they married?”

  “Technically? No.” 

  “Explain.”

  “N-” Dennis chokes, coughs, his eyes water more, tears down his cheeks– he feels vulnerable. 

  More than before.

“No.” he picks at the bloody nail and moves his eyes down to the floor, 

  “I don't want to do this.”

“You will.”

  “You scare me.” 

  Jacob laughs.

“Where were you born?”

Dennis wipes the now cold tear from his face.

  “I was born in Montana actually.” 

“Are you lying?” 

  “Yeah.” 

Dennis smiles, emotionless.

  “Next.”

“I’m assuming your hair isn’t naturally green.”

  “You’re pretty smart.” 

Jacob clears his throat, Dennis jolts,

  “Brown.” 

“Your eyes are…” Jacob leans in, Dennis swallows, 

  “Hm,” there’s a smirk on his face, 

“Weird I know, I get it a lot”

  Jacob stares, grabs his chin and looks closer. 

Dennis stays stiff as a board, 

  “Brown on the left, blue on the right.”

  Dennis pulls his face away, it's his turn to clear his throat, 

“Next.”

  “You can't be older than John.” 

  “I think I know what the next question is,” 

“When you were born.”

  Dennis nods, 

  “September twenty-fourth, nineteen eighty four.” 

  “Hm.” Jacob relaxes only a bit, “You're turning forty soon.”

  “Don't remind  me.”

“Current mood?”

  “Worse now that you’ve reminded me.”

“Nothing wrong with it.”

  “I think I wasted my life.”

  “You still have time.”

“Next.”

  “You're a man, I’m assuming.”

  Dennis laughs.

“John wrote these.” Jacob looks over at a paper on a small table beside them, 

“Summer or winter, morning or afternoon.”

  “Summer, and night.” 

  They both nod. 

A laugh, it should break the tension, it doesn’t. 

  “Are you in love, Mr. Monroe?”

  “Hah–” 

Dennis feels the air break up a little bit, he still wishes he had a smoke,

  “Would it make it all easier if I was?”  

Jacob looks like he’s actually thinking but says nothing.

  “So, single, not in love, angry at the world?” 

  “Just your type then?”

  Jacob laughs a bit louder, 

“Did you end your last relationship?”

  “I've ended all of them.” 

“Don't feel bad- breaking their hearts like that?”

  Dennis sounds proud, 

  “Nah.”

“Nobody good enough?”

  “Could say that.” Dennis smirks, “only ever liked this one guy so I thought about it.”

  “Thought about?” 

  “Something longer, love maybe. Maybe I just liked his face.”

It’s Jacob’s turn to say it, 

  “Alright, next.” 

Dennis nods,

   “Can I smoke now?” 

  “Bad habit.” but Jacob hands one to him regardless, 

  “A light?”

  “Not yet.”

  Dennis puts it between his lips regardless.

“Big on physical contact?” Jacob leans his head in his hand, “Don’t seem like the type.”

  “Depends.”

  “Hugged anyone recently?”

  Dennis goes quiet, 

“Maybe.” he smiles.

  “John has stupid questions.” Jacob bites as he reads the paper, throwing the blame.

“‘Do you have a secret admirer–’ really.” 

  “Yeah you–” Dennis looks up and sees the annoyance burning in his eyes and shuts his mouth, 

  “Next question.”

  The tension is back, 

“Broke many hearts, how about your own?” 

  Dennis has to think about it, bites around the filter, 

  “Next question.” 

“You need to answer,”

  “Light this if I answer?” 

  Jacob nods, “Go on.”

  Dennis holds out the cig, 

  “The answer’s no.”

Jacob flashes his teeth as the tip of the smoke begins to burn.

  They both settle.

“The next questions are quick.”

  “Good.”

  “Lemonade or iced tea?”

  “Really?”

  Jacobs foot taps, Dennis breathes smoke in, 

  “Okay, lemonade.”

“Cats or dogs.”

  “Dogs” 

Exhales the smoke, 

  “That makes sense.”

  “Really- What if I lied?” 

  Takes another drag, Jacob digs in his pocket for his own smoke,

  “No, you didn’t.”

  Dennis grins, all teeth, 

  “You’re right.”

“Many friends or just one good one?”

  “Neither.”

  He hears a lighter click, 

  “I agree.” 

The tensions replaced by nicotine, Dennis feels looser, 

  Jacob scoffs, 

  “A Romantic night doesn't suit you.”

  “And, you know me so well, what's the question?” he can't help but laugh, 

  “-Or a wild night out.” 

  “Ah.”

  Jacob hums. 

  “Maybe I just need to try it– romance.” 

  Jacob breathes out, takes another drag, 

  “Maybe.” 

  Dennis doesn’t pursue the thought. 

“Day or night?”

  “For romance?”

  “No.” Jacob’s over the subject, Dennis can't help but tease. 

  “Night.” 

Jacob exhales slow, right at Dennis before asking the next question, 

  “Love or Lust.” 

  “Oh.” it slips out, Dennis feels heat on his cheeks. 

  Jacob stands from his chair and boxes Dennis into his own chair, hands on each armrest, leans in, 

  “ I know, Dennis.” his eyes don't move, he gasps out and tries to move his head away, suffocated, tar in his lungs. 

“You’re scaring me again.” easy to default to, Dennis braces.

Jacob brings a hand to his face,  tilting his head back to look at him, 

“If you know, why do I need to answer?

  Jacob smiles, 

“-Love.” he shuts his eyes as he says it, voice raised, Jacobs fingers press firm into his cheek, 

  “fuck– You– how do you…” 

  He lets him go, sated. 

Dennis immediately takes a drag and pulls himself together, 

  “He seemed happier, last I saw him.” 

  Dennis shakes his head, “You don’t–” 

  “I know my own brother.” 

  He doesn't say it loud, but the small change in tone makes his blood freeze and he backs down, 

  “Right. Sorry.” 

“Next question.”

  Dennis nods.

  “Have you ever?” Jacob walks closer to the table and nods, 

  “Got caught sneaking out?” 

  Dennis looks to his surroundings, bleak, gray, hospital room,

  “Could say that.” 

“Fell up or down the stairs.” 

  “Sure.”

Dennis stubs his cigarette out, 

  “About Joseph, how did you know, we were uh– I mean, I just- I don't believe you entirely either.”

He watches Jacob, eyes sharpening as he shakes his head, 

  “Have you ever wanted something so bad it hurt?”

  Dennis nods, 

  “Yeah, you?” 

  Another nod. 

“Ever wanted to disappear?”

  Dennis leans his arm against the rest, 

  “That would be nice.”

“Tell me what happened, and I’ll tell you how I know.” 

  Dennis wagers, looks at Jacob’s expression, unreadable.

  “Any more questions?”

“Preferences.” 

  “Could use a smoke.”

Jacob lights one with the tip of his own, hands it over, 

“Smile or eyes.”

  “Eyes.”

  “Taller?”

  “Mhm.”  

  “Intelligence or attraction?”

Dennis breathes in, 

  “A bit of both, I prefer smart men though.” 

  Jacob raises an eyebrow, 

  “Why?” 

  Dennis smiles, shrugs, “I think it's cute.”

  “Relationship or one night stand?”

  “You know the answer.”

  A chuckle.

A beat passes, a silence, Dennis wonders what’s coming next. 

  Jacob reads the stack of papers, lights a new cigarette,

“Your Family.”

  “No–.”

  “How was your relationship with them?”

  Dennis looks away, shuts his eyes, takes in a long breath, 

  “Standard.” he smiles, albeit shadowed by something more. “My sister Becky, Mom an’ Dad… big happy family.” 

  “Have a messed up life?” 

  “Hah–!” Dennis picks the smoke from his lips, 

  “My Mom and Sister are dead, so, yeah.” 

  “How?” 

  Dennis just looks away.

“Run away from home?” 

  Dennis nods, “I’m here, so yeah, I did. Ran away from everything.”

The recorder clicks, Jacob flips the tape inside it. 

  “After your mom died?”

  “After my sister did.” 

    Jacob looks perplexed, Dennis feels he has an edge over him with it. He goes back to smoking and the next question is asked,

  “Gotten kicked out?”

  “Technically. Dad said to make something of myself or leave. I left.” 

“So, your Mom and Sister die, and he,” Jacob pauses, exhales, “proposes that?”

  “Yep. ‘Big happy family’.” Dennis mocks.

  “Or, well, it was just us. Not much of a family at that point.” 

  Jacob grimaces,

   “Consider yourself pessimistic?”

Dennis shrugs, 

  “Next question.”

Jacob flips the page, sits back in his chair and looks at Dennis, then the page, Reminds him of his old therapist – 

  “Friends?”

  “Didn’t you already ask this?”

  “No, do you have a friend you hate?”

  “No.” 

“Do you have any friends?”

  Dennis flicks the ash of his cigarette, 

  “Are we friends?” 

  Jacob doesn't respond, 

  “Then no.”

 He flips to the next section, prematurely.

  “Best friends?” He looks tired.

  “Well,”

  Jacob looks up, goes to flip the page back over, 

  “It was Becky.” 

A pause, Jacob flips the page.

  “So, no friends then.” 

  Dennis laughs. What else is there to do besides laugh.

He can see through the page in Jacob’s hand, there's one line written stark on the paper and it has Dennis eager. Unsure how long they’d both been asking mindless questions, he clears his throat. 

  “So?” He taps the ash once more, to the damp floor, “Are we done?” 

“Who knows everything about you?” Jacob looks expectantly at him, says nothing besides the question.

  Dennis opens his mouth, scoffs, “What am I supposed to say–”

  Jacob doesn't budge.

   “Am I supposed to say me?” 

  Jacob seems amused by it all, Dennis’ slight confusion growing as he tries to stare him down.

   “It's just,” Dennis deescalates, 

   “You're acting like I should know?”

Dennis, after minutes, gives up. The other doesn’t prod. 

“Don’t worry, you will.”

The interview, or conversation, is finished. 

  The recorder is clicked  off.

Dennis stands up. 

  Jacob mirrors, speaks, 

  “Wait.”

  He does, as Jacob walks over to a white cabinet and opens the doors.

“You left your sweater on Joseph's couch.” 

The color drains from his face, and he almost drops his cigarette to the floor, 

  “I–.” it's the only word he can say as he tries to stutter out an excuse. 

The shirt is pressed to his chest and Dennis grabs it with his free hand. It seems cleaner than it had been originally. He tries not to think too much into it. 

 Jacob brings a hand down firm to Dennis’ shoulder. 

“Now, let’s try this again.” 

Pressed down into his chair once more, 

  Dennis simply nods.

[vodkassassin]

Inspired by your Jiuplane fic, Everyone loves SQH series and Nighthaunting's work.

Shen Jiu has never actually spared much attention to An Ding. While he doesn't consider them less-his past would never allow himself to look at anyone being derided for doing 'servant duties' less- he also doesn't pay much attention to them. Ever since Shang Qinghua modified the teleportation talismans for transporting large amounts of goods between the Peaks, An Ding disciples have all but disappeared from view. Shen Qingqiu occasionally saw a groundskeeper or a cook return back to An Ding but that was about it. He was pretty sure that people outside the sect saw more of the Logistics Peak than the people in it. And during meetings Shang Qinghua barely makes a sound, just records whatever was he was supposed to and just vanish off to his peak the minute the meeting inevitably ended in chaos. It was like An Ding never existed.......in hindsight, that should have been suspicious. But Shen Qingqiu never even noticed glaring absence and he would forever berate himself for that. It happened quite unexpectedly. Shen Qingqiu was supposed to go on mission with Qi Qingqi, the only Peak Lord he could tolerate beyond a certain period of time but Xuan Shu Peak suddenly had an emergency that she had to take care. Mu Qingfang was busy with preparing the Baying Moon Jade Orchid that he had been given (Really that should've tipped him off! Those flowers were ludicrously expensive because they only grow in the Demon Realm and Mu Qingfang had been given an entire crate of them along with his monthly supplies!), and the only other Peak Lords available were Liu Qingqe and Shang Qinghua. The choice was obvious.

The mission was relatively simple. Wan Jian disciples had been sent as a response to a request for assistance from a cluster of villages deep in a mountain valley. The disciples had found evidence of a large monster but it seemed to be intelligent and the presence of cultivators had run it off to a cave system. By the trails it left and it's actions, the lead disciple had judged it too dangerous for normal disciples, especially in the enclosed spaces of a cave system and had reported to his Peak Lord. The mission thus had been entered into the Peak Lords' roster. It should have been routine, should have been simple. But Shen Qingqiu had the world's worst luck and so everything turned sideways within ten minutes of them entering the cave.

First of all, the monster seemed to have destabilized the cave so they got caved in. Secondly, it wasn't a monster at all but a demonic beast, a Thousand Screams of Ruin Swan, a rabid thing that was created when someone forcibly corrupted a Thousand Screams Swan with too much demonic qi. And finally, the beasts absolutely hated each other. A Thousand Screams Swan had the ability to gauge the truth and a lie in its presence would not only prompt the most ear piercing of all screeches but also destabilizes the qi of the liar in particular and produce unimaginable pain. The southern demon courts use the swan in interrogations, putting the accused and the swan in enclosed spaces and the interrogators questioning from behind a sound muffling seal. However if the swan were overloaded with too much malicious qi, it would grow to enormous sizes and it's screech would actually cause death to anyone in the vicinity. In this state it was called a Thousand Screams of Ruin Swan. So after every interrogation the beast is taken for purification. The question is how a pair of valuable demonic beasts from the Southern Demon courts end up in a remote village far away from the borderlands?

If it was any other situation, Shen Qingqiu would've been fascinated. But as it was he had no time to dawdle. The confined space of the caves meant that the screeches of the swan would be magnified in intensity and their muffling shields were already cracking under the pressure of the sound waves. If they did, they would be dead as their qi system would be destabilized enough to cause a painful death. Shen Qingqiu, with his already unstable qi was extremely vulnerable in this situation. With Shang Qinghua having no combat ability to think of, they were completely under the mercy of two rabid S-rank demonic beasts who hated them and each other.

Then the shields cracked. Shen Qingqiu barely had time to close off his hearing using qi before Shang Qinghua disappeared into one of the caves with a beast after him. On one hand Shen Qingqiu now had to worry about only one Thousand Scream of Ruin Swan. On the other hand, no hearing was a double edged sword in a situation like this and there was no back up, negligible as it would have been. But he marshalled his focus and unsheathed Xiu Ya. If that overgrown bird thought that the Qing Jing Peak Lord was going down without a fight, it was wrong.

Two hours later the fight was still going on. His head was hurting only from being flung into the stone walls of the cave but also from sealing off his hearing for so long. The Beast's rampage had destroyed one of the cave walls and they had both fallen into a lake within the cave system. Shen Qingqiu had somehow managed to pull himself out of the water, not being stupid enough to fight a water fowl in water. He was exhausted, looked like a wet rag and was bleeding. There was no sign of Shang Qinghua and that either meant he was dead or that Shen Qingqiu was so far off from the main caves that he wouldn't be found in time. While the former was more likely, he at least hoped that Shang Qinghua made it to the surface and called for help because as much as he hated to admit it, that brute Liu Qingqe and his brutish sword would be helpful at the moment. He was tiring and his core couldn't hold on any longer while the beast was all but brimming in energy. It lunged and the Peak Lord futilely brought up his sword, knowing it wouldn't do anything, realizing that this was the end of Shen Jiu, dead by a rabid bird in a fucking cave. And then...there was light.

Lightning, there was lightning in the cave, huge arcs of it racing towards the beast and striking it over and over, the lake water acting as a conductor and exacerbating the damage. And on a ledge, was a creature wearing Shang Qinghua. Because that couldn't be Shang Qinghua. Shang Qinghua was a mousy, nervous, skittish mess of a man. Non obtrusive, and a pushover. He was weak and had no combat abilities to speak of. He barely had a core....except that wasn't true was it? None of them had ever seen Shang Qinghua fight. None of them had ever felt the power of his core. Shang Qinghua always ran solo and the occasional company of his head disciple so none of them had been on a mission with him. In fact, none of them knew anything about Shang Qinghua. They just assumed that he was weak...because he was An Ding and acted like a coward. But now it was clear Shen Qingqiu that it was by design. It should have impossible to constantly keep up a facade like that but looking at the imperious creature watching on dispassionately at the Demonic Beast writhing in his lightning, Shen Qingqiu knew that the impossible had been done.

The creature that was Shang Qinghua jumped down from the ledge and made his way to Shen Qingqiu. He was clutching a Thousand Screams Swan now back to its original size. He was barefoot. His clothing was ripped in places. A large slit too clean to be from the beast ran up both his legs just shy of his hips revealing long legs adorned in gorgeous ink patterns climbing up them and disappearing up the torso. It was clear Shang Qinghua cut them up to increase mobility. The sleeves were also ripped, also covered with beautiful tattoos and the high collar of the robes were open showing off beautiful collar bones. His hair was left free and falling russet waves down his back to his knees and with each shift Shen Qingqiu could see a silver shine of what seems to be metal strings woven into it. He was... He was a vision.

Shang Qinghua was always covered. He wore high collar robes that never showed an inch of skin on his body. So seeing him with his legs and arms and his collar visible, it was obscene! Shen Qingqiu realized to horror that he was blushing. His entire face was burning! Shang Qinghua must have succubus blood in him! He must have! Shen Qingqiu is not the type to blush at every pretty face! He hoped to the gods that Shang Qinghua just think of his blushing face as a result of exertion.

As Shang Qinghua drew closer, Shen Qingqiu noticed something strange. Gauntlets. Silver gauntlets carved with seals. Two on the ankles, two on the wrists. And one collar on the neck. Hidden underneath high collar robes as they were, this was the first time Shen Qingqiu had ever seen them. At first they looked like enhancers and looking at the lightning still attacking the beast which seemed to be getting smaller and smaller, it seemed most likely. But Shen Qingqiu was done assuming things about Shang Qinghua. And he was right, because closer inspection revealed the seals to be limiters. Shen Qingqiu for the first time since he became a Peak Lord, was truly astonished. Limiter seals active on five points on the body and undoubtedly forming a restructure five point qi circuit and still manages to defeat two S class demonic beasts? Incredible. Shen Qingqiu wanted to know everything about him. He wanted to burrow underneath his skin. He has never wanted anything more.

After the Beast shrunk down somehow, Shang Qinghua retrieved it with a talisman that seemed to be some sort of Binding. He silently clutched the swans together and made his way to one of the caves, silently motioning for Shen Qingqiu to follow. As they made their way up the caves, Shen Qingqiu looked at his mysterious companion and told him what he was adamant about from the moment he saw the other bring down the wrath of the heavens,

"You can't hide from me anymore."

Shang Qinghua was silent. Then, like a whisper of silk on soft skin, he replied,

"I can try."

Shen Qingqiu smirked,

"Yes you can. But you won't succeed."

The Xiu Ya sword looked the two beasts the other was holding, two Thousand Screams Swans.

"Is Shang Lei even a real name? "

The other didn't answer and that was an answer in itself. Shen Qingqiu couldn't wait to have him.

Anon oh my god this is GORGEOUS!!! Thank you for feeding me, it was delicious!! Bamf SQH! Beautiful SQH! Badass, pretty, mysterious SQH!!!! Attractive as hell, an unattainable prospect!!!

@nighthaunting look look, it’s our writing child

[dzthenerd490]

File: It Follows

SCP#: AAG

Code Name: The Sexually Transmitted Demon (The STD)

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-AAG is contained in an 4x4 metal container within Site-AD. The metal container has a security camera within showing a live feed of SCP-AAG through an experimental thermal camera due to normal thermal cameras being ineffective. The steel of the container in question is engraved with thaumaturgic symbols meant to absorb and bounce back any damage it receives. No matter how hard SCP-AAG hits the steel, it will always be redirected back. 

The thaumaturgic symbols unfortunately make the metal unstable and break down over time. As such a new metal container must be constructed and replace the current one holding SCP-AAG every month. During this process Mobile Task Force Demeter-5 “Ghostkillers” are to coordinate the process of moving SCP-AAG into the new container. At all times they are to be armed with Foundation laser guns and equipped with up-to-date Memetic Reader Headgear with the Anti-Memetic mode installed. 

Description: SCP-AAG is a Humanoid Entity that emits a illusionary aura all around it with memetic and anti-memetic effects, depending on who is viewing it. For whatever reason, SCP-AAG never moves any faster than the average humans walking pace yet has the strength to rip a human in two or push them away with a swing of its arm. Its skin is quite durable being able to take most blunt weapons and any kind of force trauma. It also has miraculous healing abilities able to heal form even a headshot wound in a matter of seconds. Furthermore, SCP-AAG is very smart and defensive so acquiring blood samples for research has proven futile.

SCP-AAG has an insatiable desire and persistence to kill its victim designated as SCP-AAG-1. SCP-AAG-1 manifests when the current victim has sexual intercourse with another human thus making them the new SCP-AAG-1. Should SCP-AAG-1 be killed by SCP-AAG the curse will revert to the previous victim, making them SCP-AAG-1 again. It is unknown if killing SCP-AAG-1 by other means will stagnate SCP-AAG's blood lust. The Ethics Committee has denied any attempt to test such a theory. Furthermore, it is also unknown what would happen if all SCP-AAG-1 victims die. 

SCP-AAG has the ability to make anyone who is not cursed as SCP-AAG-1 unable to see it. It is believed this is the result of some kind of anti-memetic properties but with DNA harvesting form SCP-AAG impossible, how this works is unknown. This anti-memetic effect is quite limited as once SCP-AAG interacts with an object or living being, anyone viewing is able to comprehend it. It’s more of a transparent entity than an anomaly that can make every aspect of its existence incomprehensible. That being said, anti-memetic viewing gear is still needed in order to see SCP-AAG. 

SCP-AAG can only be seen by the SCP-AAG-1 victim, but they will never see it in the same form twice. SCP-AAG seems to be viewed by SCP-AAG-1 always as something uncomfortable, uncanny, or anything related to their fears. It is believed that this is the result of a cognitive memetic effect but again there is no way to obtain clear confirmation for this. How its possible for a single anomaly to emit both a memetic effect and an Anti-memetic effect is unknown. 

SCP-AAG was discovered in 2014 after the anomalous murder of a young girl was reported on the [data expunged] beach. Interviews with the girl’s family states she was running form something that was not there, confirming anomalous activity. Foundation satellites used different viewing modes and lenses to track SCP-AAG until it was finally found heading towards [data expunged]. Mobile Task Force Demeter-5 “Ghostkillers” was deployed armed with tranquilizer rifles and up-to-date memetic reading headgear, installed with anti-memetic mode just in case. The anti-memetic mode proved to be the successful element of the mission as they were only able to keep track of SCP-AAG because of it. However, it took 48 hours to finally contain SCP-AAG as it kept growing immune to the tranquilizer darts and slipping past MTF Demert-5. By the time it was finally locked within a Foundation Anomalous Humanoid Coffin for transportation, MTF Demeter-5 suffered 4 casualties. 

Afterwards all previous SCP-AAG-1 victims were found and given the proper amnestics depending on their situation regarding SCP-AAG. Because the current SCP-AAG-1 is still alive, SCP-AAG is still very active yet patiently waits for an opportunity to break containment. Due to the Foundations inability to properly study SCP-AAG without risking containment breach; the GOC has sent the Foundations serval requests to just let them destroy it. Quite similar to their requests to obtain and destroy SCP-173, SCP-096, and SCP-682. All requests have been denied.

.

SCP: Horror Movie Files Hub

[wh0lemilk0vich]

Hey, got a few questions about Fat!Eddie and Fat!Steve: How would they react if they started to get sausage fingers, moobs and/or double chins? Would they be embarrassed if they got big enough to waddle? Who'd have the bigger appetite? Would they get turned on by growing out of clothes (as in popping buttons and ripping out of clothes)? Would Steve lose some muscle if he got fat? How big do you think they could each possibly get? Would Dustin complement Steve on his weight gain?

Haha a lot of this stuff tends not to be stuff that I think about or compare. Like especially "sausage fingers", double chins, and mobility stuff (waddling, etc) are either characteristics that I'm personally quite self conscious about or feel kind of othering to me. So I tend to avoid those descriptions.

I don't really write active gaining because it's not particularly my thing either. So if anything I think they'd either be quite conscious about how they appear to others in terms of appetite and clothing, or apathetic/ambivalent to it. Clothing-wise they might even be slightly ashamed that their clothes don't fit their bodies the way they should, when they don't feel all that much larger.

I think either of them would be turned on by the reactions of their partner because it's validating to be found sexy. Feeling allowed to eat like anyone else would, or see what it's like to eat to excess, or not be ashamed of simply having a larger appetite that's interesting to me.

In the same way I think that there's room for either of them to be brought into that style of clothes popping kink, but it would be to see how their partner reacts because it's what they like.

Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy kinky scenarios, but I like the desire for growth to be external to the person growing. I think the things I've written are consisten with my view on the kink, but I have a very difficult time of putting it into words. I write mostly from my own experience and point of view and desires.

It's possible Steve could lose some muscle tone, it's not really something I think about a lot.

I could give multiple different answers to this, but I see either of them around the 300s. But for me a numbers don't do what a description does so it could be flexible. I don't have a numbers kink.

Um I don't know if Dustin would do that haha

But yes, out of all of this I like boy tits and I think they would like how their partner likes theirs, which would make them like them too.

[ursie]

Rick isn't skeevy with disabled people you're just projecting onto able bodied characters. Ethan and Luke are not ableist tropes they're not even the bad guys anyone who's actually read the books would know that. Nico does not and would not need or use mobility aides he is a master swordsman he does countless missions for his father he does not "need a service dog tbqh" again he's an able bodied man. stop projecting and get over yourself you dumb bitch

Dude..dude.RR is skeevy about disabled characters the very fact you’re calling characters I consider Disabled able bodied kinda proves that. Ethan and Luke are great characters no denying that-they’re also both visually facially disfigured and that very thing is treated as a sign of their villainy and moral decay if not directly tied to why both did bad things. They’re also both dead rip disabled kings.Jason is the only heroic character who’s visibly scarred-he’s also dead so. Way to go Rick. Nico would use and does seem to need mobility aides-he needs to be carried every book and suffers from constant exhaustion. Him being a sword master or a adventurer does not detract from that. Disabled athletes exist. Also who said Nico suffers from internalized ableism. Why do you think he has a negative view of mobility aides? Why would he not use one if he needed one? Also while I view him as physically disabled able bodied people do use service dogs like..more neurodivergent people use them then not like given Nico’s symptoms and canon diagnosis’s so far he like..would really really benefit from one. Anyway main point is am I wrong or do you just know jack shit about disabled people?

[astronomyforastrologers]

Saturn Embraces Gonggong ~ 10 Mar 2023

Saturn Embraces Gonggong ~ 10 Mar 2023, Philip Sedgwick

Way out beyond Pluto, in the realm of Eris, ranges another powerful and profound dwarf planet, Gonggong. Though part of the planetary realm, Gonggong does not even get the appropriate level of respect deserved. It’s time for that to change.

In the early transiting days of Saturn in Pisces, he thrice aligns with Gonggong by conjunction. It would appear that Gonggong will receive more than a modicum of Saturnine attention and respect. The three dates of the partile Saturn to Gonggong conjunctions are: 3 May 2023, 6 August 2023 (Saturn retrograde), and 16 January 2024.

In Chinese mythology Gonggong was a strange morph of sorts... with a copper human head, an iron forehead, red hair, the body of a serpent, or often the head and torso of a human, a tail of a serpent. Either way, he was castable in any Marvel movie as the evildoer. Known as destructive and blamed for various cosmic catastrophes, he also caused the tilt of the Earth. In a ferocious battle with the fire god, Zhurong, Gonggong struck his head on Mount Buzhou. The mountain collapsed, ripped open the sky, and the Earth tilted. This unleashed horrific storms of flames and floods. Fortunately, the goddess Nuwa was there for damage control with the assistance of some trusty tortoises who supplied body parts for the sake of shoring up the Earth.

Where it happened to Gonggong

Back in the days before we were aware of COVID-19, I made the observation using transits with Gonggong that something big was coming out of China. Even with the Piscean influence I was not thinking virus. So now, Saturn and Gonggong sit together in life’s sandbox. Of course the United States had the recent incident with the Chinese weather balloon. China has its perpetual conflict regarding Taiwan. Now it is rumored China may provide lethal support to Russia for their war against Ukraine. None of that’s very cheery. Still, here’s hoping Saturn and Gonggong can play nice, or at least with measure, responsibility and reason.

So what can a person do during the Saturn to Gonggong transits?

Given Saturn’s conservative postures make a point to learn more about comprehending Chinese culture or Asian ways in general.

Should a person possess metaphysical curiosities, take up the I-Ching and throw some coins to come up with life-altering guidance. Study other Asian spiritual disciplines.

Consider the conflict between fire and water. Which do you believe is dominant and why? Ponder steam, one of the most mobilizing forces in nature... the direct result of water and fire in balanced combinations.

Sit in examination of the orbital elements of Gonggong. His heliocentric north node lies in Libra; his closest solar contact is Pisces.

Based upon the orbital elements, Gonggong’s entire quest is to explore the realm of interpersonal diplomacy... such cooperative measures that neither disadvantage or victimize any negotiating party.

Be curious as to how your adversaries secured the agendas and opinions that have, regardless of how askance you believe those views to be. Understanding how others come to the conclusions they do can be massively helpful when attempting to avert confrontation.

Donate to a cause that tugs your heart strings. If you cannot donate funds, perhaps volunteer and give some ergs of personal energy.

Engage in social activities that anyone of any race, culture, religion or political disposition can enjoy. Share freely and for a time engage as soul-filled human entities. Laugh as freely as possible during this activities (laughter and comedy are always antidotal for Saturn).

Stare into some m. c. escher prints while pondering how to navigate the straight and narrow.

Seek out life’s ironies. Delve into paradoxical thinking. Look for contradictions that are actually part of solutions. Consider a pen name.

When online try searching in anonymous modes. Use a VPN. Absolutely secure your online presence.

No matter what you do in the early days of understanding the nature of Gonggong, Saturn wants you to do it as if you mean it.

Couple of other Saturn notes here. On 6 October Saturn and Gonggong align heliocentrically. Signs of meaning shall be everywhere. Inference and nuance will not be in hiding.

On 29 November 2023 sees Saturn conjoin the degree where Gonggong is closest to the Sun (perihelion). Expect a sense of energized urgency for all possible symbolic and real representations of the ever unfolding planet.

More soon.

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[dear-wormwoods]

Could you please elaborate on your belief that Kyle is fatphobic? It’s another you’ve brought up before and called “for another time”.

This is definitely a case of "I love Kyle to death, HOWEVER..." because it is one of the only aspects of his character that I wish he'd just grow out of already... but sadly I don't think he will.

Let's get the obvious out of the way first - Kyle's go-to insult for Cartman is that he's fat. He's made fun of Cartman for being fat since the beginning of time, and he's showing no signs of stopping. There are so many other things he could rip on Cartman for, and Kyle knows that. He's even listed them off before, in The Death of Eric Cartman: "...he's a fat, racist, self-centered, intolerant, manipulating, sociopath." Even in this case, when he actually branches out and highlights Cartman's real flaws, he still uses fat as the first and foremost insult. It's thrown in with a bunch of glaringly harmful personality traits because Kyle views being fat as just as bad as being a racist, or a sociopath. Maybe he even thinks it's worse, since it's the first thing he says. I don't think he actively, knowingly tells himself "being fat is the worst thing a person can be", but subconsciously I think he does throw being fat in with other, actually despicable, things. Kyle could be more creative with his insults, he has the vocabulary for it, but he doesn't feel the need to branch out because 'fat' is the be-all, end-all for him.

Now, for a long time I figured it was just a Cartman-specific thing. Yes, Kyle calls him fat more often than anyone else does, but it's not like he's that hateful toward all fat people, right? Wrong. Enter, Raising the Bar. The way Kyle reacts to the people on mobility scooters is with outright disdain. His tone when he says "Jesus Christ, you can't even walk down an aisle to get your candy?" and "Why do they even allow those things in stores?" is just like... really shitty and judgmental. He then goes on to self righteously tell Cartman, while calling him a fatass again, that he's on his way to needing a mobility scooter himself if he doesn't change his ways, which is, uh, reminiscent of fatphobes in real life pretending to care about the "health" of fat people while simultaneously treating them like trash.

He later says, "How can we make people see the difference between being sensitive to obesity and letting fat people walk all over us?!" and later still, "Obesity is costing taxpayers millions, and some are taking advantage of a system that is flawed." Kyle is absolutely that specific brand of fatphobe who would disagree with body positivity because it "promotes obesity" and demand that fat people stop loving themselves until they lose weight, but of course it's not fatphobia!! No of course not! He just cares about all of all the "health problems" they must have. But... no, dude, it's really just about being uncomfortable with fat people existing as they are. He doesn't actually have any sensitivity to obesity.

It is my personal headcanon that Kyle's fatphobia does stem from his mother being fat herself and not wanting to "end up like her". I don't think he consciously lets it impact his relationship with her, because he loves and respects his mom more than anyone in the world, but given how he responds to other fat people I seriously doubt he's never thought about her weight before. And to add to that, I think he has the potential to have a really unhealthy, even disordered, relationship with food because of it as he gets older. Kyle lacks self confidence, especially in his appearance, and he feels the need to exert control over whatever he can in a life that is mostly completely out of his control. He takes out his own insecurities on people who are bigger than him and feels justified in doing so because he "cares about their health" or because it's Cartman, and Cartman has said and done worse things to him.

I mean, as an actual fat person, I hope he does grow out of actively shitting on fat people for being fat. But, I think it's more likely that he'll do everything he can to stay thin and continue to judge fat people under the guise of wanting them to be "healthier" unless the core issue is addressed in the therapy sessions he'll inevitably end up in for a myriad of reasons.

As an aside - Cartman is fatphobic too but in that SPECIFIC way fat men are toward fat women. He constantly belittles Sheila for being fat, and the way he forced Heidi to gain weight and then made fun of her for it and banged a drum when she walked down the hallway... I can't. The difference between him and Kyle in this case is that he doesn't feel the need to justify or sugarcoat his disdain, he just embraces it.

[apocalypticwafflekitten]

Summer Night

Post-Burn Kabal x Reader

A/N: Is the self-indulgent? Yes. Is it completely unrealistic in MK context? Yes. Do I care? No. So here’s some fluffy hurt/comfort because this man needs love and I’m here to give it to him.

So, I wrote most of this while listening to this song, so feel free to give it a listen while you read!

Original Imagine/Summary Kinda Thingy: So there’s a poem mentioned in this story, and it’s one that I actually did write a while back for a Creative Writing class. It had this same kind of summer night setting, and I really wanted to use it in an actually story, so this is born partially from that, and partially from allll the feels I have for Kabal. I cannot express how bad I want to give this man a hug.

Warnings: A very emotional, insecure, soft Kabal who needs all the comfort in the world. Very much a hurt/comfort fic. Other than that, nope, just fluff for this man and all the love he deserves!

Word Count: ahhhhhhh I’m on mobile!

He didn’t think you’d ever look at him again. The scarring that marred his face mocked him for even thinking of it. The face in the mirror before him was hideous. Long ago he’d accepted the idea that you’d only ever see him with his mask on. That you’d only want to see him with the mask.

But what did a mirror know? You’d always been there for him before, and you hadn’t shown any sign of leaving him now. Maybe you’d stay. But who was he kidding? One look at his face and you’d go running off like everyone else.

No. That’s not right. He had to have more faith in you than that. You wouldn’t leave him like that. You wouldn’t run away from him. That’s what he would do. You were stronger than that. Stronger than him at least.

So every once in a while, the idea, the notion of taking off the mask and showing you what was waiting beneath it tempted him. Sometimes he wanted to rip the thing off and beg you to see that he was the same man as before. Even now, as he replaced the respirator on his face, he wondered if you would say anything should he leave the bathroom with his face bared to you. All your possible reactions swarmed his imagination until it was all just noises. Some were screams of terror, others were violent sobs. And sometimes it was silence, followed by the creaking of a closing door. It was all too much.  

He shook his head to clear it all out, and took in a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of the wheat and corn fields just outside the safe-house.

The two of you were on a job. It was an easy in and out mission that didn’t really matter much in the long run, but it was important for you. It landed you smack dab in the middle of a prairie on the border of a farmer’s land. The crickets chirped and soft breezes flew through the open windows, carrying sweet scents and the peaceful air of a summer night.  

When Kabal saw no sign of you in the the house, he looked outside, only to find you sitting on the porch swing, looking up at the stars above you. The chipped, white paint on the bench looked almost blue as the moon began to rise, lighting the surrounding farmland in a silvery, glowing light.  

“Hey,” Kabal greeted tentatively, “What are you doing out here?”  

“Hey. I was just looking at the stars, taking in the farmland and the open space. It’s making me a bit homesick to be truthful, but I still like it. Something about seeing the night sky right against the crest of a grassy field with nothing else between them is...it’s beautiful. It’s calming in a way. It’s so simple and plain, but there’s more to it than that. It’s more beautiful than you would expect.  I don’t know if that makes sense to anyone but me, but hopefully someone out there understands.” You smiled to yourself and curled up further on the bench-swing, holding you knees to your chest while a slow, steady rock lulled you into your thoughts once more. 

Kabal took a moment to follow your eyes and see what you were talking about. He wasn’t surprised that you were right. The gentle hill that rose about an acre or two away hit the horizon and kissed the night sky. And it was beautiful--even through the red tint his mask gave everything. You couldn’t see the city that lay beyond the hill, nor could you see the fence that marked the plot of land. It was just grass and sky, and the stars haloing the moon. 

“I understand. It is beautiful. More than you would imagine,” He repeats you, thinking about something else you’d mentioned, “You said it made you homesick?”  

The question sits in the air for a moment as Kabal took a seat next to you, using his legs to keep the swing’s gentle rock going.  

“Yeah. This place remind me a lot of my home, and I’m just realizing how much I miss it,” You lean in to his side, letting him drape an arm behind you out of habit, “But that’s not a bad thing. I mean, if I hadn’t’ve left, I never would have met you.”  

You kissed the side of his mask, and rested your head back on his shoulder. Sometimes you acted as though nothing had changed. The way you so casually kiss his mask, and lean back into him as if you’d just kissed his cheek bewildered him. Could you not see how awful it was? How messed up it is that he even has to wear this thing? Or how messed up the face beneath it was? Well, of course you couldn’t see that, but still. How could you see this and still love him the way you had before the fire? And what you’d said? Was meeting him some monument in your memory? Was he really worthy of that? Maybe he would have assumed so in the past before all of this, but now? How could you still see him in such an important light?  

“Hey. Hey, Kabal? Come in Kabal!” You laughed when you saw his head shake as he was brought back to the present.  

“Yeah?” He couldn’t help but smile a little when he heard your laugh.

“Come with me.” You whispered, eyes wide and full of something warmer than mischief, but not entirely different as you stood and held out your hand. 

“Where are we going?” Kabal asked, but truthfully he didn’t care. Being with you was enough no matter where he was, as long as you were there beside him. 

“You’ll see.” You smiled and took his hand, guiding him off the porch, towards the cornfield aside the house.

Your hand in his was small and gentle just like he remembered. He wanted to remember more. He wanted to remember everything about you. The way you used to hold him at night and tell him how safe you felt in his arms. Or how you would trace his face and kiss his eyelids while he napped on your lap. He wanted to memorize the smell of your perfume, but only by kissing the tender skin of your wrist and whispering there how much he loved you. He wanted to admire you like that again, instead of following you with wide eyes from behind a mask. For once in a long, long time, he actually wanted to take the mask off, if only to kiss you and see your beautiful face again without the red tint his glowing eyes gave the world.

You brought him out to the edge of a cornfield where the tall stalks looked gold under the starlight, and the bright moon gave enough light to walk by. The sky seemed endless above these shining fields, as if all the cities in the world melted away and the land before you stretched on forever. A long, emerald, grassy plane where dainty wildflowers grew in the spring stretching across the horizon and beyond it. In this moment, walking with Kabal, the safe house faded away and the crickets’ chirp dissolved into the air. It was just you and your lover beside you, walking your own moonlit trail by the side of the cornfield.

Kabal loved the sweet aroma from the crops beside him. When he looked up he constantly found himself in awe of just how many stars he could see. There were trillions more up there than he had ever known of and it gave him exhilarated chills. The most beautiful part though? It was you. You happily took stride next to him and let a comfortable quiet fall over you two.

He kept looking to you, although you never noticed, or if you did you hadn’t said anything about it. Just...the way the moonlight lit your face made you look like something divine—something perfect for him. Something he wanted to hold and squeeze and touch and love. Something he wanted forever. 

Kabal was broken from his reverie when you suggested sitting on the wooden fence that outlined the neighboring farmer’s land. It wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t too terribly bad either, just a little wobbly. To make up for it though, the view from this spot was beautiful. The moon hung high above the safe house, watching over the small building and the grassy plot where it lay. He could see why you’d decided to sit here of all places. 

You were quiet for a few moments, enjoying the gentle breezes that would pass by. It was comforting—unlike anything Kabal had felt in a long long time.

“You know, I wrote a poem once about walking through a corn field to sit and talk with the moon awhile. Sitting here with you reminds me of it.” You think out loud.

“Hmm. I didn’t know you wrote.” Kabal remarked, finding himself suddenly curious about your apparent hobby.

“Yeah. A bit. When I have the time to. But that doesn’t happen often these days.”

“No joke. You a big fan of poetry?”

“Oh yeah. I could go on for days,” you smiled bashfully, turning away, “but I don’t think you want to hear about that.”

“I wouldn’t mind. Especially if it was you doing the talking.” You could hear the smirk coming from behind the mask, and you cherished it—loving the moments when the old Kabal would shine through.

“Hmm. I’ll keep that in mind. Maybe I’ll steal you for a day and lecture you on my favorite poets.” You laughed at your own joke, but Kabal hoped that one day you would. Getting to see you excited about anything always lightened up his day.

You both sat on the wooden fence for what seemed like ages, silently enjoying the warm, quiet night together. You would point out constellations every once in a while, and at one point you got so excited about a shooting star that you nearly fell off the fence! Kabal had to rush a hand behind you to keep you from falling flat on your back! But there was a long stretch of time after that where the two of you settled into a comfortable silence and you leaned against him, letting your head rest close to his heart.

“Can I ask you something?” Kabal whispered, breaking the silence with a quiet push. 

“Sure.” You answered, keeping your eyes on the stars above.

“Do you...do you still love me? With the respirator and everything?”  

He saw the way your head whipped around to face him and he knew he’d struck something deep in your heart. Your eyes went wide, and a worried tilt crested your brows. For a moment he felt stupid for asking. The small amount of time where you went silent to process his question felt like minutes where his insecurities could eat him alive and swallow him into the night. 

“Of course I still love you Kabal!” You rushed out, trying to think of a million ways to reassure him. You held his hands again, and those deep, wide eyes looked right into his, “What’s brought this up?”  

“I don’t know. I guess I don’t know how you can love me like this. You can’t even see my face. And I’m...I dunno...I’m different.” He mumbled, looking down to his hands, and how yours held them so tight.

“Kabal,” you began with a careful, comforting tone, “I’m always going to love you. Mask or no mask. Burns or no burns.”

He took a moment to let your words sink in, watching you as he realized what your words meant.

“So the mask...doesn’t bother you?” Kabal asked, allowing just the littlest bit of hope to seep into his voice. 

“No. Not at all.” You replied simply, 

“Why?” He had to know. His voice may have been a quiet scratch through his respirator, but behind it was all the desperation of a man lost.

“Because I know it’s still you under the mask. I’m still sitting next to the man whose perfect idea of a date was barhopping until the early hours of the morning, then drunkenly watching bad movies on your couch until the sun came up. I’m still sitting next to they guy who spent a whole hour explaining the lore of Ninja Mime and why the fourth once was shit. And I’m still sitting next to the guy who played Christmas carols for me on his marimba just to make me smile. You see, I fell in love with you. Not your face or your body. You. Yes it’s different now. Yes it’s a bit of an adjustment, but you’re still you under the mask, so it makes it easy for me. It’s not hard to stay in love with someone you fell for a long time ago, even if they look different.”  

By the time you were done there were tears streaming down Kabal’s face. He wanted to hug you and kiss you and hold you all at once forever. His heart was pounding and twisting and clutching and he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“I love you!” Kabal declared desperately, with all his heart in it. You didn’t miss the hitched sniffle that came from behind the respirator, “I love you so, so much.” 

In every word you could hear the thanks that was pouring from him. In that small phrase, in those six words, he thanked you for everything you’d said. He thanked you for not giving up on him, for continuing to be by his side through everything, for showing how you loved him and how deep it truly ran. He put everything he was feeling into those words, everything he couldn’t find words to say. He put the way his heart clenched in those words and you could feel it - his words carrying his whole heart .

Kabal pressed his forehead to yours and you nuzzled your nose against his mask, enjoying this tender moment with him - one of few you were able to have in your line of work.

Before he could pull away, you decided to act upon a wish you’d had for months now. Your only hope is that Kabal would let you. You slowly took your hands from his and ran them up his arms, feeling his strong muscles beneath the marred skin. The bumpy pattern rippling under your fingers when he twitched. You kept your forehead to his as your hands travel over his shoulders to rest for a moment at the base of his neck. There you wait for any sign. Any signal that he wants you to stop. Instead his breathing grows heavy and he tenses, anticipating everything you might do, but he doesn’t stop you.  

Ever so slowly, your hands trail up to the sides of his mask and you rub circles against it with your thumb, trying to soothe the man beneath it.  

You give him a small smile before bringing your fingers to the edge of his mask. For a second you’re able to slip your fingers beneath the respirator and feel the curve of his jaw. But before you could pull it further from him, his hands shoot up to grab your wrists, a moment of flooding insecurity breaking his resolve. 

“Are you sure?”  His question is quiet, almost quivering in his tone. 

You give him that smile again before looking straight into his eyes.  

“Yes. Yes I’m sure.” you insisted with a gentle warmth in your voice.  

 Kabal let out a stuttering exhale, and let go of your wrists. His hands found themselves sitting restlessly in his lap as every muscle in him was tense with fear.

Again, with caring conviction you began to pull the mask from his face, revealing the scarred surface beneath. His emotions were plain and clear for you to see in his tilted brows and the glistening tear streaks falling down his uneven cheek. 

You took a minute to look at him--to see what the fire had done and why he had been so reluctant to show himself to you. But just moments after the mask had been removed and his face had been bared to you, you broke out into the largest smile Kabal had ever seen. 

You whispered with happiness warming your tone; happiness like Kabal had never heard before, “There’s that handsome face. I’ve missed you.”  

Kabal looked you in the eyes, tears welling up in his own at your simple response to his horribly scarred face. His heart caved in relief, letting him slump against you, once more pressing his forehead to yours.

“I’ve missed you too.” He whimpered, finally letting himself go--letting the buildup of anticipation and fear drop from his shoulders so that he could finally do the one thing he’d wanted to do most since the fire.

He kissed you. Hard and desperate and oh so familiar. His lips locked onto yours as they had a million times before and he wondered how he’d gone so long without this. Your lips played against his the way they always did. Damn it everything was perfect. He whined, sobbing into your kiss as joy and relief flooded his every nerve.

You pulled him back, wanting to kiss him again and again and again for the rest of time. He was still here! Your Kabal! Here to kiss you until you were dizzy, and love you until the world stopped spinning. You couldn’t get enough. Each kiss more desperate than the last as you held his face in your hands and wiped away his tears.

He broke off for just a moment to grapple onto you, hugging you right against him.

“You have no idea how much this means to me.” He whispered in your ear. His chest hurt with how his heart ached for you. He wanted you close—so close that he could never lose you.

You smile to yourself and bury your face into the crook of his neck, drinking in his smell and nuzzling against his skin. You reach up and gently card your hands through his hair, offering him comfort and reassurance.

Again, it’s just you and Kabal, and the sound of his breathing, quiet and labored beside you. His hands gripped the back of your shirt in tight fists, and every once in a while you’d hear a quiet sniff.

But in a few minutes you felt his breathing grow ragged, and as much as you wanted to stay in this embrace, you knew he needed to replace the respirator.

“Hey, come on hun, you need to put the respirator back on. I love getting to see your face again, but I’d love to keep you alive even more.” You laughed a little, meeting his eyes once you’d pulled away.

He laughed a little as well, grabbing the mask and slipping it over his face again.

You watched him, listening as his breathing evened out until he turned to you. You imagined he quirked an eyebrow under the mask.

“Whatcha staring at?”

“The handsomest man in the world.” You smile up at his face and grab his hand as he stares back into your eyes.

“Come on, let’s get back to the house. It’s getting kinda chilly out here.”

He didn’t say anything. He just nodded and stood from the fence, beginning the walk home with you by his side.

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