#also rip my last blog that got terminated | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shwarmii · 1 year

Text

hi, i'm @/shwarmi, and tumblr tERMINATED MY BLOG (AND ALL MY SIDE-BLOGS WITHOUT WARNING ME) and i messaged them to get it back but idk when theyll get back to me, so here i am in the meantime, hello, i guess this is my back-up account now, yes, my url is a pun on Roman numerals, anyway, sure do fucking hope i gET MY BLOG BACK JFC

edit: i've been filling out a ticket form about Account Termination once a day (here's the link to it if you ever need help finding it for yourself in the future; please don't try to help me via spamming the ticket form or anything, they explicitly ask to not involve other people uninvolved in your account AND i feel bad enough doing spam once a day already; but, anyway, yes, i recommend doing what i did and having bookmarked the aforementioned link and just copy&paste my form answers into the ticket from a seperate document, like from Google Drive or something, so you don't have to retype it everytime), and i have recieved no reply nor even a confirmation e-mail. hence the lack of updates on how my account is doing. there's no other way to contact staff, except maybe via Twitter, as their support e-mail is no longer accepting messages (hopefully bc of the following they will be in contact with you sooner than they have been with me, bc i didnt know this following tip this past week i've been filling out that ticket and noW YOU DO, you lucky bastard. do what i did with a seperate document to prep in case this is a multi-day process, but hopefully you'll get farther in less time than i have bc jfc i wasn't even getting a confirmation e-mail beforehand big McYikes)

BUT!!1! a friend of mine who was terminated last year said to attach my un-terminated e-mail's account (aka the e-mail i am using right here for @/shwarmii, and not for the terminated @/shwarmi like i had been doing liKE A DUMMY APPARENTLY) to the ticket's general "Put your e-mail here" slot and to explain within "The more details, the better" part your original e-mail attached to the terminated account in addition to the rest of your explanation. and i finally got a confirmation e-mail that my ticket has been recieved! yes, it was just an automated response but yay! finally!! progress!!1! i at least got a fUCKING CONFIRMATION E-MAIL, HAHA, VICTORY!

god i fucking wish i knew about the "just dont use your e-mail linked to your terminated account" tip a week ago jfc on a hot dog stick, my guys, finally, a confirmation e-mail, gahhh

since i now have a confirmation e-mail, i will wait five buisness days (so today is the 8th and a Monday, therefore, i'll wait until Saturday which is the 12th except i said "business days" ergoooo Monday the 14th) to e-mail them again. i hate waiting tho ughhh like, fine, i'll do what i gotta do but also ugghhhhh

↳ additional note: this update/edit was made on 8 August 2023. @/shwarmi has been terminated since 31 July 2023 (or 30 July 2023, and i just was too exhausted to make the account/post until the 31st. i forget. i was in the middle of moving and im disabled, so i was over-exerting myself big-time. i had processed that my account had been terminated at the time and just responded by taking a nap lmao rip but yeah, therefore, it's all been a blur)

NOTHING HAS HAPPENED. COOL. (Narrator: It was not, in fact, "cool".) I WAITED AS PLANNED (this update is being written on 14 August 2023) AND STILL NO FOLLOW-UP TO MY CONFIRMATION TICKET. HATE THAT FOR ME.

instead of sending in a new ticket as i originally planned, i replied to their confirmation email since it said i could do that (for permalinks or whatever) so that they will HOPEFULLY get back to me without me having to be a pest about their automated systems, ugh.. (i have cropped out my email and the Ticket Number(? i assume that's what that string if letters and numbers are anyway) for privacy reasons, but here is what the confirmation e-mail looks like and how i replied. i am including this mostly to help out anyone who may be terminated in the future have an idea of what to expect and an expectation of "OH, okay, so i can reply to THIS email-address, got it" kind of nonsense or whatever. why not lmao)

i will wait another five buisness days, so that'll be on the 21st of August 2023. hopefully, i will update with good news before then (aka: they'll haVE REPLIED MAYBE PLS PLS PLS) but i guess i will have to be annoying if not

it is the 20th (so they have one more day before i have to be annoying anD I DONT WANNA BE.. pls send me ideas of how to be annoying that doesnt include the Hateful Xitter pls, my only idea is to DM them there and i dON'T WANNA) and even my gmail thinks the lack of response is fucked up lmao rip

having a Bad Brain Day streak rn due to my (abusive) dad's failing health and unpacking and all this other shit i have to do post-moving like switching my insurance and renewing my liscence and fuck all, so bothering tumblr about not replying to me is gonna take a bit more of a backseat for a minute, hold on

it.. is now August 30. brain still in gutter, but i forced myself to make a xitter/twitter (don't follow, ill delete the account after they help me or not). and it wouldnt let me dm, so i had to just @ them and post. brain so sad that i cannot even be amused rn that @/shwarmi on there was taken by a shwarma restaurant. @/tumblrsupport's Replies tab shows signs of helping people as recently as 2 hrs ago, but idk if there's another queue here. i guess we'll find out?? i just want my accounts with all their posts and shit back pls, this has taken so long to try to do 💔

edit: if you're curious, it is 3 Sept 2023 and i am still waiting (it looks like they are looking at people who @'ed them on Sept 1 rn and iM LIKE "PLSSSS, I @'ED YOU ON THE 30TH OF AUGUST PLSSSSSSS", gonna give them until the 5th before i tweet again i guess 🥺)

i am not god's strongest soldier. i continue to cry out for help, alas, i have yet to receive an answer

it does not help that the twitter account sometimes says to people: "What is your Tumblr URL? We can check and see if there was a glitch of some sort. But be advised that if it is a TOS violation situation or a bigger tech issue, we cannot assist/reply on Twitter" so that doesnt make me panic aT ALL that maybe i broke TOS without any form of a warning or knowledge that i wasnt following tumblr's terms of services regarding things like nsfw and whatnot (narrator: they were panicking)

i hate it here. staff should at least be able to tell me (via email, if not twitter) that i wont be getting my account back or whatever else instead of just saying NOTHING??????

going to do all this again (tweet support, make a whole new ticket (i still have the info saved thankfully), reply to my old email confirmation) on September 27th (an arbitrary date based on I Have A Lot Going On Rn) if they continue to not reply. if i hit the 30 images limit, guess ill be reblogging and adding even MORE to this thread jfc juST TALK TO MEE!!!1!

#me #shwarmi #never have i been so glad that i have a google doc of mcs and all the i.f. games theyre from &&& also #how much i screenshot from tumblr to tell me who i was following before lmao rip

9 notes · View notes

ratralsis · 2 years

Text

Welp, that was miserable

My blog was terminated for a little over two weeks because I tripped some kind of spam auto-detection filter.

It was probably my AC blog, @megatownac, not this one, because I hadn’t posted on this one in over three weeks, and my most recent post was just a stupid joke about how I think it would be funny to see Mario as a cannibal.

A lot’s happened, though. I went to Las Vegas for AWS re:Invent 2022, a big expo for, well, AWS. That’s Amazon Web Services, because that scrappy little online bookstore now also owns and operates the world’s largest cloud service provider, which even the federal government uses. If ever there was a company that was too big to fail, I’d say that one qualifies.

It was alright. I’m glad I went. I got to check Vegas off of my bucket list, and it was on there, don’t think it wasn’t. I’ve gone there now, though, and I don’t feel like going again. It was huge and loud and bright and overwhelming, just like you’d imagine. For a mildly autistic dude like me, it was simply too much. I did zero drinking or gambling while I was in Vegas, but I did see David Copperfield perform live. That was fun.

I also got COVID during the trip and spent about a week recovering from both it and some other kind of disease, probably RSV. I say that I had two diseases at once because my dad, who picked me up from the airport, did not test positive for COVID but also went through a set of very similar symptoms as I did. Could be wrong. Could have just been COVID and he didn’t do the test correctly. Who knows.

My cat, Max, had surgery on December 15th that required sutures, and he managed to rip a couple of them out that night despite my putting a shirt on him specifically to stop him from doing that, which meant he had a hole in his side with exposed muscle underneath it that kept bleeding into the shirt. That was the case for about 14 hours or so, which is when I was able to get him to the vet again to replace the sutures with stitches which have held for the last three days. He also now wears a massive, pillow-like collar in addition to the shirt. He hates it. I feel sad for him. This will be the case until the 29th.

I’m still working on my book. I don’t have anything new to say about it.

That’s all the news. I’ve had this blog for over ten years, and it was deeply jarring and upsetting to have it taken away from me so quickly and suddenly like that. There was no warning or anything. It was just gone one day.

I’m afraid it may happen again. If it does, just remember that I’m Ratralsis everywhere I’ve thought of registering the name Ratralsis. Twitter, Hive, Mastodon, Twitch, Instagram, and who knows how many other places. I’m easy to find if you look for me.

Not that I expect anybody to look for me.

#text post #ratralsis writing

1 note · View note

that-kid89 · 6 months

Text

03.26.2024

numb the pain. <- song of my day

but like a happy day for me? tbh definitely ended on more of high note, a spark of hope after being unemployed for a week now.

i feel like i could write 15 sentences at the same time right now.

madness, insanity, sickness, disturbed, panic.

ecstasy, highs, journeys, toys, wanderlust.

modest, numb, emotional, passive.

literally just writing random words that pop in my head. feels like gonzo clarity. check me if it's narcissism. too much pride.

daily average for screen time on my iphone is 3.5 hours for the 3 days this week.

read and skimmed all the back to my opener post. i initially felt bad, sad, and let down. reading my thoughts of love for heather, but more so my feelings towards my self. talking to myself in this blog, scolding him nearly. listing my needs and realizing where i sit that i made not one attempt at getting those things. were they really needs or just fantasies though.

kinda feelin like fuck all that shit. maybe its the beers and esteem boost from my first hearing back on one the applications i sent out in the last 7 days.

whats always wild to me, is how i can drift off into my dreams, when i'm awake. the rare night where i just daydream and not even sleep. its so crazy to me, and i dont recall talking about that seriously with someone. wish i did with heather. but also the stimulation i get from twist my hair into knots. sometimes it hurts so good. but i get mad when it's really knotted, and i gotta rip it apart, usually with hair being ripped out. insane.

talking about today now. woke up late, but earlier than i thought after falling asleep around 3am. tried not to drink but caved last night and had a few swigs of casamigos followed by a lovely beer. technically counts as today! well i suppose only the events beginning at 12:00am. fuck it, yeah so i woke up, and funny i keep checking my phone for all kinds of notifications. first thing i read was a message from christian on insta about the boat hitting the bridge in baltimore. this is recent to the mass shooting in russia, god damn dark news. still seeing a bunch of posts about necann. i'm glad i've been to events, but felt i had no place going this year. i don't think i've been when working in the industry, but definitely when i was younger. took a much needed shower today and trimmed up. then went to whole foods and petco. nearly bought the exact same things from each store, from i got yesterday. took the amg out though, and always get excited to drive that beast. let it warm up right, cold start was rowdy as always. deffs got some good pops and bangs. fuckin car is so quick too, and so exhilarating. however i did get this great beer as well called "termination". spent a lot of time looking at crafties to get, and ultimately chose this one although it being a triple ipa. 10% abv and damnnnn smooth. i'm on my second one tonight. sipping out the duvel big round chalice that i got from an xmas yankee swap one year. but anyway, getting a hit back on an application from only yesterday was an esteem boost. seems like a company tha could really use my help, and that they'll have a lot of work cut out for me. falling in love a bit quick as i do my homework on them. keeping in my mind that its only a teams meeting planned for next week but was still the first i've heard in a week. this last week has felt like freedom. but also emptiness. i do miss my last job, and still trying to get a good understanding of how it ended. but it feels a lot like the lat time heather and i broke up. i had reached my breaking points with them months ago, and never recovered. but they cite a recent mishandling of a heroin related customer incident at the store, which i can see how they perceive as mishandling, but damn it really felt good to get fired. i just walked out they of my term. instant relief, not much to finalize with them either. anyway

running out of steam with my writing. im glad i did. btw, song of the day came from nowhere. i somehow had the song stuck in the head, and i searched a rough idea of the lyrics with xxxtentacion and nailed it. i've had it on repeat all day since. had it on loop in the car, and had it on loop during this whole session. a classic way i've listened to my favorite x songs, a repetitive lyric design with just guitar chords or sample. feel like he's here with me, just sharing his emotions with me.

came to love his music after a distinct memory of mine, being when i shurgged off his death as i read him to be an abuser in his relationship. came to realize he had remorse in his actions, and was on a mission that i never would found out myself. this girl told me he was one of her favs, and that's when i got into him. his music still took time to grow on me, but ive now listened to most of his music, and i think all of his albums, all the way through, multiple times. 17, ?, skins, bad vibes forever, and some of his early stuff from mixtapes and singles. but yeah, quite a learning and growing experience. ending sentences on the 4 beat, or like a significant strum or beat, just feels so good.

rest in peace jahseh.

thank you for helping me open up my mind in so many ways.

here's to me, and the life i've lived and will continue to complete. excited to see where life takes me. for now, a nostalgic night of no responsibilities, weed and beer.

signing off.

0 notes

thewhitefluffyhat · 2 years

Text

state of the blog 11.22.2022

whoops, I died again, huh? Well, it’s not like this blog has ever been all that consistent of a poster. ^^;

But man, the last few weeks have been wild. rip twitter, I guess?! I can’t believe tumblr of all hellsites is posed to outlast it. Feels especially weird to be part of the “old guard” of sorts now...

In tumblr news, the checkmarks are hilarious, but I’m more curious how this new “community labels” thing has been going while I’ve been quiet. Sure, the guidelines page says you won’t get your blog terminated for it, but I still remember when blogs that helpfully tagged their nsfw were the first ones to disappear in the ban wave. But I haven’t seen any outcry yet, so… I guess those new labels are safe to use...? I suppose I’ll find out when I eventually try them.

(Also wondering if they need to be applied retroactively. My Higurashi posts had quite a bit of gore/suicide stuff in them by nature of the fiction discussed. But I’m not sure I have the time to go back through and sort it all according to the new tag. hrm.)

Anyway, in other news, let the TLT posting continue! For the moment, I’ve given up going through the whole tumblr tag history since my backlog of just more recent posts is mountainous, verging on becoming a continental fragment, ahaha.

I’ve also got a few smaller posts of my own to put up, likely in between some reblog queues, but then I’ll likely go quiet again for a month or two.

See, I made the terrible, terrible decision to do a Canaan House-themed dungeon for my next turn as DM for my D&D group…

#state of the blog #my ramblings #am I going to re-read GtN just to take notes on the layout of the place?#you bet!#am I then going to throw all those notes out #because a dungeon with 200+ doors and oodles of floors is a nightmare to play?#almost certainly!#my players won’t have harrow’s obsessive levels of focus that’s for sure

1 note · View note

tinyboxxtink · 3 years

Text

"Broken" A Sharky ANGSTY O/S

So I made a one shot called Baby Shark where Sharky and Rafael get pregnant and after some bumpy conversation, decide to have the baby and she grows up to be a great kid, and you love being a mother.

However, at the time I also had an idea for the OTHER outcome of the pregnancy. But I let it go, and then I got a request from-- someone, I don't know if they want this out in the world-- to write a fic about a miscarriage. So, I figured I'd go with the idea I had already planned out.

AND SO,

I present to you, the alternative outcome of "Baby Shark".

Warning: VERY angsty, dealing with abortions and miscarriages. Also religion, if you're sensitive about that.

Read at your own discretion.

If you would like to read the happy version of this story, it is here.

Tag List

@objection-argumentative

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

You stared at the four pregnancy tests on the counter, waiting on the fifth. Plus signs and “Pregnant” words were sitting there, mocking you. You heard your phone alarm go off and picked up the last test.

Positive.

“Dammit!!!” You threw it across the bathroom. This was your worst nightmare. You didn’t want kids right now, you weren’t sure you wanted kids EVER. But you knew Rafael did, he probably wanted them as soon as possible.

“Mi Amor?” Rafael slowly opened the door.

“Raffi!” You spun around angrily. “Don’t you knock?!”

“Well I heard you yell…Oh my god,” Rafael suddenly noticed all the positive tests. “Y/N, are you…are you pregnant?”

“Yeah, well obviously,” You scoffed, gesturing to the many positive tests. You weren’t trying to be mean but he walked in just when you were trying to wrap your mind around this.

“…Why are you angry about this, carino?” He looked at you confused. “You…you do want kids, don’t you?”

“We really should have had this conversation before we got married, god why didn’t we have this conversation…”

“Oh my god,” Rafael stepped back. “You DON’T want kids?”

“I don’t know!” You threw your hands up. “Rafael I had given up on being a wife a long time ago, let alone a mother,”

“I can’t believe this,” He shook his head in disbelief.

“Look I just don’t want to have to make this decision right NOW,” You tried to act softer, lowering your voice. “You know we JUST got married, and we JUST started the practice. I just wanted some time to BREATHE,”

“So…you want to abort it?” Rafael’s voice was soft and sad.

“Christ Almighty Rafael it’s not ‘aborting’ it’s…” You paused, noticing his face was getting more horrified. “What?”

“I thought when you were defending me, your whole ‘cold medical’ argument was a tactic…”

“Yeah well,” You ran your fingers through your hair. “Look, baby,” You took his hand again. “If I…got rid of it,” You saw him flinch. “It would just be taking a pill that rips apart cells and tissue. It doesn’t disintegrate arms or legs, or a tiny beating heart,”

“Yeah I get it, Y/N” He dropped your hands and walked out of the bathroom, you ran after him.

“Rafael, come on!” You chased him through the apartment, grabbing his hand and making him face. “At least hear me out,”

“Why? Why should I? You clearly won’t hear me out! You’ve already made your decision, I bet you weren’t even going to tell me about it,”

“That’s not fair,” You replied, hurt. Of course you would have told him, wouldn’t you?

“And…it’s not just this,” He sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, if you don’t want kids right now is one thing, if you don’t want kids EVER, then…” He wiped his eyes. “Then we’re just delaying the inevitable,” He said softly, you could hear the tears in his voice.

“What?” Your heart fell into your stomach. “What are you saying?”

“I want kids, Y/N,” He looked at you very seriously. “I want kids and I’m not going to give up that idea,”

“So, you would just walk away from me for some hypothetical kids you might have some day?” You were getting upset now. How dare he threaten you like that.

“I don’t…” He ran his hands through his hair, tears still falling from his eyes. “I don’t want to,”

“Then DON’T,” You crossed your arms.

“Why should I appease you when you won’t even THINK about it?” He suddenly went from sad to angry, matching your attitude.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t think about it, I said I really don’t want to decide NOW,” You yelled back, as you sat down on the couch. All of this yelling was making you dizzy.

“Then when do you want to decide, Y/N? When-- when our baby actually has fingers, toes? Is that going to change your mind about killing them?”

“Oh my god, you are so--” You stomped out of the bathroom and through your living room.

“Where are you going?” He called after you.

“To prove to you I’m not a heartless bitch!” You yelled back as you stormed out, slamming the door behind you.

=====

You drove to the clinic that Dr. Ramoray worked at, pulling into the parking lot and rushed into the waiting room.

“I need to speak to Dr. Ramoray,“ You informed her.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No, but we’re old friends,”

“Excuse me?” She looked at you quizzically.

“Can you-- can you just tell him Y/N is here and really needs to talk to him?”

“....Okay…” She looked at you skeptically but stood up and went to find the doctor. After a few minutes Dr. Ramoray walked out and greeted you.

“Hello, Y/N. Nice to see you,” He shook your hand. “Don’t tell me you have another case--”

“No, it’s personal this time doctor,”

“Personal?”

“I...can we…?” You motioned towards the rooms.

“Well...sure, Stella hold my appointments,” He informed his receptionist.

He walked you back and into a patient room. It was lined with charts of the different stages of pregnancy, lists of do’s and don’t during pregnancy, things like that. You took a seat in the regular seats as opposed to the patient stirrups.

“So, how can I help you dear?”

“Well, you know that man I defended?”

“The ADA? Well of course, that’s one day I will never forget,”

“Well he’s my-- husband,” You looked down, hoping that wasn’t a lie.

“I see,” He nodded. “Well, that makes a lot of sense now that I think about it,”

“Right,” You nodded sheepishly. “Well, see we uh-- I got us in a...situation,” You put a hand on your stomach.

“Ah,” He nodded again. “I see,”

“Yeah..”

“And guessing by your argument in court, you’d like to get rid of the...zygote?”

“I don’t know,” You shook your head. “I...I didn’t have the greatest role mode of a mother growing up, and I have no idea how to--” You rubbed your temples. Too much detail.

“Look my husband has the opposite stance on my...views, of a zygote,”

“Well that’s ironic, isn’t it?” He chuckled.

“Yes haha. I just want you--- I just need a picture of this thing to show him it’s just cells, it’s not a--”

“A baby,” he finished for you.

“Right,”

“Well, as you must know due to your research Ms. Y/N, depending on how far along you are it might be impossible to even see the zygote,” He explained.

“Well that’s even better,” You half smiled. “Then it will really prove to him I’m doing nothing wrong-- if I decide to get rid of it,”

“As you wish,” He nodded, gesturing for you to get on the patient table. You laid down on the table and pulled your shirt up, while the doctor got the gooey gel and rubbed it on your stomach. He pulled up a screen that recorded the sonogram, as he ran the scanner over your uterus.

“....Hmm…” He studied the screen intently.

“Hmmm?” You asked. “Hmmm doesn’t sound good,”

“I...well, there seems to be an...issue,”

“Excuse me?” You sat up. “An issue? What kind of issue?”

“Well Ms. Y/N according to this, your uterus is what we would call-- hostile,”

“Hostile?” You half laughed. “Why does that not surprise me…?” You shook your head. Of course you, the cold hearted shark, would have a hostile uterus on top of everything else hostile in your body.

“Yes, see all of this extra tissue? It’s not ideal for a fetus to grow and develop,” He pointed out clouds of white almost filling your uterus. “To be completely honest with you, it’s a miracle you even got pregnant,”

“...Oh Jesus…” You put your hands over your face. “Why...God why…”

“If you decide to terminate this pregnancy, there’s a slim to none chance this will ever happen again,” He continued.

“Great,” You chuckled sarcastically. “So now even NATURE is forcing me to make a choice right now,”

“Well,” He pushed the screen away. “If it helps your decision, there’s an 75% percent chance the baby will even survive full term,”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You laughed harder. “So, even if I decide to concede to my husband and go ahead with this, there’s a 25% chance that he’ll get attached to it, and then it will die anyway?!”

“Look Ms. Y/N,” He put a hand on your shoulder. “In my experience, more often than not women with hostile uteruses that do actually get pregnant, end up having perfectly healthy babies. Granted most are preemies, but with today’s technology that’s almost never an issue,”

“...Right,” You shook your head with a dry sarcastic smile, still in disbelief this was all happening.

“And if you don’t mind me saying,” He added. “I really think this is something you should discuss with your husband,”

“I actually really do mind you saying, Doctor,” You said curtly. “I just...I need a minute, can I have a minute?”

“Sure, take a minute. Call him, maybe ask him to come down,”

“...Yeah, right,” You shook your head with a smile as you walked out of the room and down the hall through the waiting room and outside in front of the clinic. You walked over to a small bench off to the side of the walkway into the clinic and sat down, and before you could think your body just erupted in a loud, angry scream.

“....Do you think this is funny, huh?!” You yelled up at the sky. “Is this, what is this, some kind of TEST?” You stood up now as you continued your rant.

“Are you-- are you trying to test how much I love Rafael? Testing just how much I’ve REALLY changed? Or are you just trying to prove to me that I can’t be happy? I can’t have the nice, perfect man, with a perfect family? That I’ll just lose anything good that I touch? You’ve turned my own BODY against me?!” You started to cry in the middle of the grass.

“Why would you do this, huh?” You asked Him. “You know the kind of mother I grew up with, you know I have nothing GOOD to reference on being a mother!” Tears streamed down your cheeks.

“Why would you do this to me? Have I been that shit of a person? Really? I went through...I went through hell and back my entire life, and then I fought like hell for Rafael, for someone who actually loved me, for the very first time in my life! And now-- now you want to take that away from me? Or are you giving me a second chance? TELL ME! TELL ME WHAT I’M SUPPOSED TO DO!!!!!!!” You screamed, falling to your knees sobbing.

“....Y/N?” A soft voice made you leap to your feet and spin around to see Rafael standing there, his mouth slightly open with a confused look on his face.

“Rafa,” You quickly sucked the rest of your breakdown back into your body, wiping tears away and clearing your throat. “W-What are you doing here?”

“I...I came to support you,” He said softly as he walked closer to you.

“Support me?”

“Well I figured, you came down here to--”

“To what, kill our baby? Without even discussing with you?” You scoffed.

“No!” He cried. “Well, maybe..”

“Right,” You shook your head with a dry laugh.

“But I was going to support you no matter your decision!!” He defended himself.

“Oh well, that’s really big of you Rafael. Coming down here to hold my hand while I abort our child and then breaking up with me as soon as we walked out of here,” You scoffed with a roll of your eyes.

“That’s not--” He shook his head. “Look, I think-- I think that what matters right now is your little...soliloquy there,” He gestured towards the bench where you were having your screaming match at God.

“...Right,”

“Why wouldn’t you tell me about your mother, carino?”

“Why would I, Rafael?” You rolled your eyes with a laugh. “I already inadvertently told you I’d never heard the words ‘I love you’ in my life before you, I thought that was pretty obvious I didn’t have the greatest parents,”

“...Fair,” He closed the gap between you, taking your hands. “I’m sorry, I should have taken that into account when were...talking,”

“Arguing,” You clarified.

“Right,” He nodded sadly. “I just-- I ...I’ve always--”

“Yeah, I get it. You’ve always wanted kids. I should have taken that into account when we even started dating. I should have thought this could happen. I’m usually so level headed and ten steps ahead of things, but with you--”

“It’s different,” He finished for you with a sad smile.

“Yeah,” You nodded softly, looking at the ground.

“Well,” He tilted your chin up. “I don’t--I don’t want to impose anything on you, but--”

“But…”

“But...you did just ask the big guy what to do, and I was here,”

“...So you’re saying, God is telling me to go through with this?”

“All I’m stating is facts, Sharky,” He rubbed your cheek with his thumb. “I’m not telling you to do anything, I’m really not. I swear,”

“....Well, you should know all the facts then,” You sighed, leading him back to the bench where you both sat.

“All the facts?” He asked you curiously.

“...Dr. Ramoray says that I have a…’hostile uterus’,” You shook your head with a laugh, just saying it sounded absurd.

“A hostile uterus? You? I’m shocked,” He joked, trying to ease the tension.

“I know right?” You chuckled. “Anyway um-- he said, that it was a miracle I even got pregnant,” You said softly while you played with his hand in yours.

“...A miracle?”” Rafael’s voice perked up a little. Did that mean you were considering it? Surely you wouldn’t have told him that if you were going to get rid of it.

“Yeah,” You nodded. “And um-- he said, he said if I terminated this pregnancy, there was a slim to none chance that I’d ever get pregnant again,” You looked at the ground.

“I see,” He squeezed your hand softly. “So...basically, even mother nature is forcing you to make a life decision right now,”

“That’s what I said!” You looked up into his eyes; you really were so in sync.

“...Which is why you were yelling at God,”

“...Right,” You looked up at the sky. “But there’s another thing,”

“Oh?”

“The doctor said that even if I decide to go ahead with the pregnancy, there’s a 25% chance that it will die anyway,” You looked into his eyes sadly. “Because of course, my body would be just like my mother, rejecting it,” You looked away from him with another sarcastic laugh, thinking of the irony of your situation.

“Hey,” He put a hand on your face, making you look at him. “You are NOT your mother,”

“You didn’t even know her,”

“I know she wouldn’t be wrestling with this decision, would she?”

“No,” You shook your head. “She definitely would not. She made it very clear that my father MADE her have me, because he didn’t believe in abortion,”

“....Like I was trying to do,” He said sadly.

“No baby,” You took his hands. “I know you weren’t trying to force me to do anything,”

“....But I kind of was, when I threatened to leave you,” He looked down in shame.

“No, uh uh,” Now it was your turn to pull his chin upwards. “It’s not the same. Not even close,”

“....So,” He took a deep breath. “Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

“....Well,” You gave him a small smile. “I can’t exactly argue with God for giving me what I asked for, right?”

“Wha--you mean me?”

“I asked him what to do, and here you are,” You pressed your forehead against his. “I’d say that’s a pretty big red flag of an answer,”

“Carino,” His lips curled into a huge smile before they were on yours.

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

----Six Months Later----

You were in your last trimester, and were finally starting to breathe about your impending labor. Every month, every doctor’s appointment, you’d walk into the office with the worst expectations, and every time you were proven wrong. In that time, you had grown attached to your little girl, who you decided to name Isabella. Izzie, for short.

Rafael would talk to Izzie as much as he talked to you, always speaking in Spanish thinking she’d pick it up in the womb. You’d just shake your head with a smile, it was adorable the way he was so excited. It made you even more excited, just seeing him so happy. You had never been so invested in someone else’s emotions other than your own, especially not someone who hadn’t even been born yet. But you loved Izzie already, you would smile to yourself when you’d feel her moving around inside you. It was like she was snuggling you in her own little cocoon inside you.

However, on the day of your baby shower, all of your new hopes and dreams came crashing down. You were doing your makeup, humming and bouncing along with the Spotify playlist you had playing-- when you felt it. A sharp, overwhelming pain struck your abdomen, causing you to hunch over, falling to your knees.

“RAFAEL!!!!!” You screamed as your insides felt like they were being stabbed everywhere. Everything you had feared was coming true.

Rafael sprinted into your bathroom half dressed and instantly was down next to you.

“Y/N, baby what’s wrong?” He asked frantically, checking your body everywhere as you writhed in pain and began to cry.

“It’s...Izzie,” You sobbed, knowing what was happening. “I’m losing her,”

“Oh God,” Rafael dialed 911 while he tried to help you stand. When he saw your pelvis however, he stopped moving you.

“What?” You asked in a panicked tone. “What is it?”

“You’re...You’re bleeding, Y/N,” His eyes began to fill with tears as he watched you quickly begin to bleed out in front of him.

“What?” You tried desperately to look down at yourself, all you saw was a pool of blood running down the floor to your feet. Everything started to go fuzzy, you could barely hear Rafael screaming on the phone for someone to hurry up and come to your rescue. Pretty soon, you blacked out completely.

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

The next thing you knew you were waking up in a hospital bed with a nurse taking your vitals.

“Welcome back, Ms. Y/N,” She smiled sweetly. “We almost lost you there,”

“...Lost me?” You looked at her in confusion before looking down at your stomach. A huge bandage was wrapped around your torso, covering several stitches and tubes coming out of your pelvis.

“Oh my god,” You whispered, beginning to panic again. “Oh my god, oh my god--”

“Whoa whoa calm down sweetie,” The nurse tried to keep you from squirming around. “You’ll pop your stitches,”

“Where’s Izzie? Where’s Rafael?” You asked her as you started to hyperventilate.

“Your husband ran to get a coffee” She assured you. “And um, your-- your baby is…”

“She’s dead, isn't she?” You began to sob. “I killed her,”

“No! No ma’am,” She shook her head. “Well, I mean she-- she is-- gone,” She said sadly. “But you did NOT kill her,”

“No, just my hostile body,” You continued to sob.

“Look I’m-- I’ll be right back,” She rushed out of the room, leaving you crying and screaming in horror and guilt.

After a few minutes, Rafael was bursting into the room, instantly at your side and taking your shaking body in his arms. He was still covered in your blood, he hadn’t dared to leave your side since they had gotten you there.

“I killed her, Rafa,” You sobbed into his chest. “I knew it, I knew this would happen. I’m broken inside, I told you I was broken,”

“Shhh, no no no mi amor,” He whispered as he tried to not start crying himself. “Shhhh, you’re-- you’re not broken,”

“I am!!!” You sobbed harder. “I killed our baby, just like I knew I would. It’s the one thing I was supposed to give you,”

“...Shh, baby I know. It’s okay, it’s alright--” He looked up at the sky as he began to cry himself.

“No it’s not, it’s not okay!!” Your sobs became heavier, you could barely breathe. All of your fears were coming true, you were being punished. You lost your child and now you were going to lose the love of your life. “Please don’t leave me, Please please please,”

“What?” He suddenly looked back down at you, pulling you from his chest. “Why would I--”

“I KILLED OUR BABY!!!!!!!!” You screamed. “That’s the ONE thing you asked me not to do!! The one thing! And I did it anyway!!!”

“NO, you did NOT,” He took both of your shoulders. “You did not kill our baby, do you hear me? You tried so hard, you took such good care of Izzie, carino--” He started to cry again as he said her name.

“She’s dead, Rafael,” You had just started to get your sobs under control until you saw him cry. You hated seeing him cry. You hated being the reason he was crying. “She’s dead!”

“And so were you!” He said through his tears. “You died on that table, they told me. But you came back to me,”

“....What?” Now you started to control your crying in shock from this new information.

“We may have lost Izzie, but I almost lost both of you. And I-- I don’t think I would have survived that,” He was still crying. “I...I’m devastated about Izzie, but I’m grateful you’re alive,”

“....Even though I’m broken?” You sniffled.

“You are not broken, mi amor,” He shook his head as he kissed your forehead, getting his own emotions to calm down. “...And if you still don’t believe me, then I promise you, I will spend the rest of our lives putting you back together,”

“....Okay,” You whispered, finally relaxing into his arms as he laid back against the wall.

“I love you, Y/N,” He whispered as he stroked your hair. “I will always love you, no matter what,”

“I love you too,” You sniffled as you started to fall asleep against his chest.

You wanted to believe him, but you knew deep down inside: You’d always be broken.

#rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba one shot #rafael barba angst #rafael barba x you #rafael barba fanfiction #angst #tw abortion #tw miscarriage #law and order svu fanfiction

37 notes · View notes

reveriequill-rai · 3 years

Text

Shroud: Withered Soul

A/N: Sorry it’s been a while. As of right now I’ve just been uploading stories I’ve written in my newspaper club, and now that I’ve graduated I hope that can now expand to short stories generally. I’m not gonna promise that posts from now on will be more consistent, but I would like to at least speed up my uploads a bit before they actually wind down, as I imagine I will be working on more stories in the future. Everything being uploaded right now is previous work, but nothing too old--probably like, from last year tops. This was completed sometime in May, I believe.

This is an introduction to a character I created called ‘Shroud,’ an amateur self-proclaimed ‘detective’ who exclusively investigates occult-based crimes and malefic.

Content Warning: death, descriptions of corpses, graphic descriptions of violence and pain, cults

[My blog will usually contain PG-13 stories, and as of right now I am writing some darker content, but I will tag anything that may be especially disturbing or uncomfortable. I’ll include this warning in my bio, too.]

----------

The corpse in front of me wasn’t all that disturbing by itself. I had seen dead people before–comes with the territory. I had been dead before. Murder rates in Twilight were, naturally, much higher than any other district in New Fable–especially further south of the district where I was–considering how much wild magic was around, and not even the police force sent here from the northern district of Bastion could do anything about it. So the corpse itself didn’t bother me, all things considered.

What did disturb me, though, was a number of other things.

For one, the corpse just being there was a problem. They weren’t stopping, and they were getting far too close to home.

Its eyes were still open, for another thing, and nearly colorless, and looking at me specifically, and I can swear to you that had not happened when I first laid eyes on it. Even worse, like me, the man lying dead in front of me appeared to be wearing a few bandages like I was, perhaps just recovering from an injury.

And for yet another thing, and perhaps the worst part of this, was the connection I felt with this dead man. Something about the state he was in struck a familiar chord that only I and a select unlucky others knew. As if we were kindred spirits–undergoing the same fate, yet with (probably) different outcomes.

I had been at this–whatever you would call tracking down cults as someone with zero prior detective experience with the help of almost no one–for…a few months now? And I’ve made a bit less progress than would be expected from someone who has seen just about everything the darker sides of magic had to offer. I did have one solid lead, though, and hopefully one that would lead me to exactly who I was looking for.

“Everyone move,” I ordered, pushing my way through the crowd.

Ignoring their complaints, I made my way over toward the body and began to examine it, hoping for any hint of who had done this, and more importantly, if it was exactly who I had suspected. There didn’t appear to be much damage, but what first caught my attention was the note tucked into the man’s pocket. I took it out and unfolded it, and immediately flinched.

Demon tongue.

Hellish whispers ran through my head, and I wasn’t sure if they were just in my head or not. It was hard to tell these days.

I honed in on the note, written on some old paper as if torn from an ancient book. The more I stared, the louder the whispers got. I ignored the throbbing in my head as best as I could–humans were not mentally equipped to engage with the infernal language at all, and I much less so. My hands shook as I read the brief message, which I must have read dozens and dozens of times already; I wasn’t counting and didn’t care to.

Some people studied demon tongue despite…well…everything, even the illegality. It probably didn’t matter to them. It didn’t matter to me, either, but someone had spoken to me in demon tongue before–though, in their defense, likely not out of their own volition–and the trembling and rapid heart rate was not worth the ability to communicate with infernals. (Nothing was, honestly.)

For these reasons–and also not wanting to be arrested or have my mage license revoked–I personally didn’t speak or write demon tongue, but I at least knew a little bit and could recognize some of the infernal runes. And those runes were enough for me to know that this was the exact same message that the abyss had been trying to send me in my last moments.

—

Can’t run home, I thought. They’ll follow me.

Just gotta run until I find a phone booth.

I ran until I finally spotted one on the street corner near a bridge. I let out a sigh of relief, taking a quick moment to catch my breath. Then, I quickly crossed the street and ran toward the phone booth, quickly dialing the police station.

“Hello?” I said into the phone as quietly as I could manage. “My name is [……………………………] I’m at the corner of Coral Avenue by the Armada IV Memorial Bridge. I’m being pursued by a group of kids in demon-charmed cloaks and shawls, please I need your help they have knives and they’re trying to kill me-“

The tears stinging at the edge of my eyes began to overflow as a human voice at the end of the line responded in perfect, uncharacteristically calm demon tongue. It was a short sentence, repeated over and over again, but with the little knowledge I *did* have, I could translate it by about the sixth loop:

“You are going to hell.”

I hung up the phone immediately, resisting the urge to yell, “I KNOW” directly into the phone.

Humans can’t speak demon tongue here. It’s illegal.

So how did an officer know demon tongue?

—

Unsurprisingly, the body was still in semi-good condition. After all, little damage was done to the body—only the soul. The only physical marks I could make out were marks around the wrist and neck, likely to restrain the victim. Couple of bruises here and there, too, but nothing was broken.

This…disturbed me, to say the least.

Cults around here were usually known to be violent. After all, a lot of them stood for violent causes–executing the ‘impure,’ plunging everyone into the dreams of a volatile eldritch creature, usurping the throne and forcing everyone to convert, rallying the youth to their bloody cause with claims that they alone possessed special powers…I had heard it all, all of them violent to some degree. But the ones that had gotten me…they seemed to worship oblivion itself. Or maybe whatever was in it. That was beyond even my knowledge.

But…even then, they still had arguably the least violent cause. The deadliest, yes–they seemed to just be destroying souls–but strangely not as bloody. Yet their means of carrying out this objective has historically been, well, bloody.

Or maybe that was just me.

Either way, this victim had certainly not gotten the worst of it. There were no twisted limbs, no bloodied nose, no wounds from blade or bullet, basically no magic-driven attacks aside from the terminating consumption of the soul…only marks of the initial restraint, bruises from the subduing, and the abyss claiming and destroying the soul.

I could almost picture it in my head: they likely jumped him in the middle of the street, kicking him around a bit to possibly weaken him, throw him off balance, but not too much as to rouse resistance, then restraining him–to the floor? A wall? I couldn’t tell, but there were no rope burns so they must have done this by hand–and calling, somehow, for their god, for lack of a better word, to devour its newest victim’s soul.

What did he see as he died? Did their eyes turn as colorless as his would become? Had they shown any sign of enjoying his torment? I doubt it; it didn’t seem like a very ‘fun’ kill. And likely not as personal as it was for me.

They were getting much better at their kills. It probably wasn’t as fun, but more precise.

And a lot less violent than I had gotten.

—

I caught a glimpse of the charm from earlier out of the corner of my eye, but just as I looked it vanished. Just then a cold breeze hit me as the door behind me opened, and I was yanked out onto the street, leaving the phone dangling by the cord. The book dropped from my hands.

The four delinquents appeared in front of me from nowhere, likely having turned off their Moonlight Shroud charms.

“Gotcha,” Ransley said, smiling as he picked up the book.

“Give it BACK!” I roared, lunging for him. Ransley hit me hard across the face with the book, sending me flying a few feet back onto the brick road. Quickly I realized that my safety was not worth keeping that book. I didn’t know where or how Ransley learned to hit that hard but I wasn’t going to stick around to find out. As he and the others examined the book, I began to scurry away as Ransley gave an order to the others:

“Get him.”

An instant later, I heard something click far behind me, and a sharp pain ripped through my knee. I collapsed to the floor, letting out an agonized cry. I examined my knee, and saw a hole much bigger than a bullet hole should be. I looked up at my attackers.

A gun?!

“What the HELL?!” I shouted. “You’ve already got what you want! LEAVE ME ALO-“

Ardent appeared behind me and punched me square in the face. I held my probably-broken nose as a muffled shriek of pain escaped me. Each of them vanished and took turns raining blows and slashes on me as I tried to step back and run. They gave me almost no chance to react. My body ached everywhere; the knife wounds, though shallow, stung just as bad, if not worse, as any bee. I could barely stand. I used my remaining strength to try and push them off of me whenever I felt them, but I stumbled each time I did, giving them room to knock me around further. Finally I collapsed, and Ardent grabbed my shirt and dragged me to the bridge.

“W-wait-“ I cried, still wincing and crying from my bruises and decayed knee. “STOP IT!-”

—

I examined the bandages on my hand and knee. The ones from that night must’ve been amateurs, or at least new to the cult’s way of doing things.

Focus, Shroud.

The victim’s eyes were still open, and almost completely empty.

Almost.

The body must not be entirely empty, then. This wasn’t exactly a kill—whoever this person was, they would not be dead for much longer, or at least depending on your definition of ‘dead.’

How long ago had this attack been, then? I touched the skin—still warm-ish. This had to be recent.

By that logic, if this was meant not as a lethal attack, but as one of induction into their group…

I wasn’t sure how long I had been out, but I at least knew it wasn’t for very long.

So…I didn’t have much longer, then.

I instinctively jerked away from the body. Would he come back? He wouldn’t be under anyone’s control, at least for the first few minutes–how long does it take to kill someone? Would it be long enough for him to kill me?–no, he probably wouldn’t go after me; I had barely any soul left for him to long for…unless he’s just that desperate enough to take scraps from a near-husk.

What would he do when he came back? Would he wander around, lost, confused, until they welcomed him with false promises of salvation and freedom from the ‘burden’ of having a judgement-tied soul? Would he be violent, as they had been to him?

Then again…I came back after one of their attacks, but with a will of my own. Did they want me to come back? Why would they want me of all people to come back?

—

“You know how much trouble you caused us, […….…]?!” Ransley shouted as he kicked me in my injured leg. “Don’t act like you didn’t have this coming, you little weasel.”

“I didn’t-“ I tried to say.

Ransley propped me up on the sidewalk, just by the edge of the bridge, right above the river. He placed his hand on my bruised shoulder, looking at me with a bone-chilling grin.

Again, I got a good look at his eyes. This time, everything except the pupils was entirely white. As I looked I almost felt like I was staring at something beyond; further, even. But the harder I looked the more I could see how much nothing there was. And yet, in spite of that, this nothing seemed to be staring back at me.

The others had the same white eyes too, looking on with a horrible satisfaction.

“What…” I barely managed to say, “…what are y-you…?”

“Free,” Ransley answered, without his usual cruelty and instead with an uncharacteristically sanctimonious tone. “And with our help, so too will you be free.”

With a hard shove, I was pushed off the bridge.

I grabbed onto the edge with my hand, barely having the strength to pull myself up.

“T-this is insane-!” I cried. “Ransley! Please! Y-you can keep the book; I won’t call the police, just help me up-“

Ransley frowned and put his boot on my hand. He leaned in as he brought his foot down harder, crushing my hand. Bone splintered and crumbled under the weight of the shoe, and I let out a shriek as a cold look crossed his face.

“You really should stop holding on so much,” he said. “That’s your problem. That’s why you’re here. Just let go, and face oblivion.”

Ransley took his foot off finally, but my hand had run out of strength. I slipped, and fell into the river.

—

Either way, I had to work fast.

“Hey, kid!” Someone from the crowd called. “What’re you doing? Leave this to the professionals.”

I turned around, and maybe it was the speed at which I had whirled around to face them, or he did just flinch.

Was it my eyes?

“The police won’t find them,” I explained. “I know what I’m doing. I’ve studied demonology for a few years.”

I went back to the body.

“You mean you know who did this?” he asked.

“Maybe,” I answered. “I just wanna be sure…”

I pressed down on the bruises on their shoulder and arms. Hollow. I felt no bone or extra layer of skin or muscle underneath.

Just as I suspected, I thought. Soul devouring.

My only question now was, how much of the soul was left?

—-

The bridge wasn’t particularly tall; just enough for any small cargo ships to run under. But the fall felt much longer than it had any right to.

I never hit the water. I was swallowed by something but it certainly wasn’t the river. It was as cold and sharp but nothing wet ever touched my skin or clothes.

I did not fall into water. I fell into something foreign, something dark, something alive, something evil.

Its eyes were beady and attentive, focused, eager, and it had long rows of sharp fangs. It appeared to smile at me, expecting me, welcoming me. Whispers in demon-tongue surrounded me, and I overwhelmed myself trying to find a single word I could understand. The only thing I could catch was “going to hell” again…was this it? Was this hell? What circle was this?

I was immobile, unable to look away from the creature in front of me, unable to scream as it opened its fang-filled mouth. I couldn’t even let out a scream of protest; no, not against this, as it brought down its jaws and took a large bite out of a deep part of me even I could never access. The pain from my bruises and wounds no longer burned; only ached, as if the pain had been there forever.

I was hollow. If there was anything left, I barely even felt it. My wounds glowed a hot white color and became shallow. I felt nothing but an aching nigh-emptiness that seemed to have no origin I could place; no past; only a present and a long future.

I didn’t know how long I was in that void. But as much as I despised that thing for robbing me of my life, I was grateful that it chose to let me go.

—-

 I took out my pen from my pocket and a couple of mini-candles from my satchel. I flicked a lighter and lit the candles, surrounding them at different points around the body. I began to draw an evocation circle around the body. I’m not sure what had stopped this cult from performing forced evocations as opposed to beating everyone into submission until they blacked out enough to face the abyss and have their soul devoured, but I wasn’t about to find any sense in a group of people who literally worship the abyss.

I took my time with the intricate webs of the circle, carefully connecting whatever remained of the soul to the points where I would draw in the runes, and connected those to the candles.

I then drew in symbols in the language of the spirits at the different sub-points that would draw up souls from the afterlife, adding a desperate prayer in each pen stroke that I evoke the right thing and not something unwelcome. I had to steady my hand as I did this, reminding myself that this was merely a human soul who was recently killed, so the chances of him having ended up in hell – was he that kind of person? – were slim; they had to be, of course they were; there was no need to panic so stop panicking. Yet knowing I was drawing the same symbols, the same webs, lighting the same candles as the deadly evokers around town who would break into people’s houses and draw evocation circles under their beds to call up who-knows-what from the pits of hell to torment the living…to think I was drawing the same circle that I checked for every night when I went to sleep…

The pen snapped in my shaking hand against the concrete, getting ink all over my hand. I swore, and rubbed some on my finger tip so I could start to finish the circle.

“What the hell are you doing, kid?!” someone cried, making me jump. “You’re tampering with evidence! That’s illegal!”

“You’re gonna screw up the investigation!” someone else shouted.

I steadied myself from being startled.

“This…this is the investigation,” I replied bluntly.

“Wh–okay…? Are you a detective or something?” the first guy asked.

I shrugged.

“I think so,” I said.

“You think-”

I could hear further shouts from the crowd as I turned the body over to draw the rest of the circle underneath, but I held up my hand to stop them from getting closer.

“Just let me work!” I cried without looking back.

That’s when I noticed some of the rapidly-decaying skin near the shoulder and side of the ankles. The skin had withered and given way to bone, the effect cutting through flesh and muscle. Even the bone had begun to decay.

Well, so much for minimal damage.

I unzipped the victim’s jacket and pulled back the shirt just slightly to get a better look at the damage. The withering had spread further—the entire shoulder seemed about ready to decay. I took a camera out of my bag and took a picture of the decaying wounds.

With the remaining ink, I drew another sigil on the bandage of my injured hand, a heart-shaped eye-like symbol with two lines running up my index and middle finger. It was a painful process and I was just careful enough to have the pen not tear through the bandage, and I placed my shaking hand on the decaying shoulder and closed my eyes. I saw all of the injuries on the man’s body, including where he had been injured–he had a broken arm that had almost finished recovering, and a fractured foot that was also healing, but wasn’t as near completion as his arms. Either way, both of these had stopped healing, and had actually gotten worse, with the bones beginning to decay in both areas.

What was the point of beating people up, breaking them, letting them decay, and then expecting them to join you after you had broken them? My attackers probably went through the same thing as this man had–as I had, if this cult was larger than them. So why do the same thing to others?

But that was just it, though, wasn’t it?

They knew what it was like to be soulless, and only they knew not only how to recover from the injuries suffered, but how to disguise themselves as living to avoid trouble with the law.

I looked again at the bandages on my hand, and unraveled it slightly, careful not to let the crowd see. There, too, did my flesh begin to decay. This was the primary issue with not having a soul: without the very essence that gives us life, our bodies aren’t capable of self-healing anymore. Any injuries are permanent unless fixed by a doctor, or if we tend our own wounds.

Fortunately my bones—at least in my hand—hadn’t completely withered away. I managed to revive just in time, fortunately.

Just in time.

——

I don’t remember much about the day I woke up. Just the excruciating, aching pain.

What I did know was I had washed up on the shore of the city, and I couldn’t stand up for a very long time. A burning sensation enveloped my entire hand and knee, and I felt a throbbing sensation in both areas. The bruises from the beatdown stuck on me like a leech, but most vividly, my chest felt hollow. And it hurt. The emptiness gnawed at the inside of my chest, and it, too, burned and ached. Like a stomach ache in the wrong place.

With my good hand I crawled my way off of the shore until I found a lamppost. I grabbed onto it, and propped up my good knee. I swung my arm toward the lamppost, grabbing onto it with my bad hand, shocks of pain running through my body. I tried to haul myself up, but the weight of my body caved my knee in, and I collapsed. That’s when I got a good look at my hand.

Bits of skin had completely come off, seeming to have withered away. Pieces of bone underneath had chipped off.

I grew nauseous and I felt the blood drain from my face. I let out some inhuman noise that I reckoned was some attempt at a scream but came out as a cross between that and a moan of agony.

How had this happened?

It was a horrible sound, but at least I had been found. Otherwise, who knows what would’ve happened?

Or who else would’ve found me?

——

Finishing the circle grew tricky as my hand trembled, though I was unsure if it was from the injury or from the reality of the process itself.

“Kid, we don’t even know who you are,” the guy from earlier said. “Are you even a licensed detective?”

I ignored him and wiped some of the ink from my pen on my hand, pressing my hands together to activate the circle. As the soul fire candles flared, what little color was left in their eyes drained slowly, and a small, glowing, deteriorated wisp of a soul rose out of the victim’s body.

This was all that was left…

Somehow this dead man was just the same as I, who could still breath, still walk, still talk, still live—but only just.

What had this man’s soul seen before it was decimated? If, in fact, the same people who killed me are responsible for this, did he, too, see the same grinning face in the abyss that I had? Was he as afraid as I was? Or did he accept this as death?

I took my mage’s license out of my pocket and showed it to the crowd.

“I’m a licensed magic user,” I said, “is that enough?”

“…that’s not a detective license,” the same guy said. “I’m calling the police.”

“Great!” I said. “Tell them the Brotherhood of Abyss Walkers did this.” At this point it was all but confirmed.

“The…what?”

“The cult that keeps tormenting this forsaken town,” I explained. “The one behind all the unexplained murders.”

The guy—along with the rest of the crowd—stifled a laugh. Some of them couldn’t hold it in.

“There’s no cult in New Lumanore,” someone else said. “Our security’s airtight; no way they would’ve been able to form a guild without a license.”

“Just call the authorities, Aaron,” a lady in the crowd said. “This kid isn’t worth persuading.”

“W-wait-“ I said before letting out a resigned sigh. I packed up the candles and pocketed my pen, and took off. I knew who the culprit was. What the police had to say didn’t bother me.

They’ll believe me when I put the culprit behind bars.

—————

In previous investigations I managed to pin down the general area where the Abyss Walkers operate. Prior murders took place at least within a mile’s range of Eclipse Avenue, an area further south of New Lumanore. It was a relatively quiet and empty area; there were quite a bit of shops and buildings of unknown function that no one ever seemed to go into, not even during the day.

The entire place screamed occult activity.

Sure enough, just as I hit the corner of the avenue I caught a glimpse of a Moonlight Shroud charm, pinned to the outwear of a hooded figure. They were walking along the other side of the street, hanging close to the bare wall of a wide building.

Once they were some distance along I crossed the street quickly and began tailing them.

Confrontation wasn’t new to me, just…unfavorable. Is that why I trembled? Either way I knew the procedure: Walk with the same beat. Same path, same pattern of step. Stop when he stops. Walk like this until the shadow is close enough for contact.

Once I did I took out a capsule from my coat. It contained shadow ink, allowing me to either create my own shadow, or to hide within someone else’s. I didn’t have enough of a soul to perform any magical feats on my own–whatever I could do would probably just come out as sparks–so this was the best I could work with. Unfortunately the capsule was nearly empty, and I made a mental note to contact my supplier after I was finished. In the meantime, I used what was left to lather my hand in ink as I silently crept behind the lone cultist, and pressed my hand against his shadow. I latched on and eventually got pulled in. Inside the shadow realm, I had a black-and-white view of the street from inside the wall. I couldn’t breathe, though, and I couldn’t hold my breath for very long so I knew I had to jump him sooner rather than later.

I took a coin out of my pocket and tossed it outside behind the cultist. He stopped and turned around, as expected, and I took the moment to lunge out and grab him by the throat.

—————

The cultist narrowed his eyes, and an amused smirk came on his face.

“Hey…” he said. “I know you.”

I flinched. How?

He kicked me off and stood up.

“You…you’re the kid we got that book from!” He chuckled. “You don’t quit, do you? This is really what you chose to do after death? Vigilante work?”

I felt the blood drained from my face.

“…what are you talking about?” I lied. “What book?”

“The demonology book, stupid,” he said. “The thing damning you to begin with. You forgot already? Or did you lose your memories alongside almost all your soul somehow?”

I clenched my fist, resisting the urge to charge at him again. I couldn’t take him in a head-on fight. I was too weak for that.

“Tell me,” he said. “How’s it feel? Being so close to freedom, so close to ridding yourself of that moral creed weighing you down…no fear of rapture…just your life and your…well, I suppose now broken…body, and your heart and mind.”

“Shut up,” I snapped.

“Good thing you came back, though. We’ve been slacking on our initiations recently…Ardent went a little too hard on too many people. We’re behind on our quota.”

“Wait a sec…” I took a step back. “What do you mean ‘too hard?’ Aren’t they supposed to come back?”

“The idiot decided to use magic to slow the initiates down,” the cultist explained. “As if that wouldn’t damage the soul at all. I’m sure you of all people know. You’ve taken enough beatings form him, right, D–“

I punched him in the face. The second I made contact I realized I had used my bad hand without thinking. Bone snapped, collapsed, and even shifted through the hole in my hand. I let out a far-too-loud shriek of agony as I recoiled and caressed my hand, trying to relocate the bone.

The cultist looked at me and laughed, and I raised a finger on my good hand and threatened him:

“Don’t try that again,” I said. “I’ve still got one—ahh…—perfectly functioning hand.”

“Fine by me,” he replied. “You hit hard for a dead person…”

My hand still ached from the punch. I imagine it probably hurt me way more than it hurt him.

“Do you mean to turn me in, Shroud?” the cultist hissed. “Just try it. I know who you are. They’ll find out you’re undead and investigate you to hell and back. Whatever decimal of a soul you have left won’t save you. Not even close.”

“I can’t trust you with that information even if I let you go,” I said. “But even if you do…I’ll know sooner or later if you’ve said something. You best not try it if you don’t wanna die twice.”

The cultist grinned.

“I’m shaking,” he said, deadpan. “I’ll just come back again.”

“What, are there no revival limits in your little group?”

“Nope. He’ll bring us back again and again as long as he needs us.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“Oh, you’ve only been resurrected once, you big baby,” the cultist said. “You’ll get used to it.”

“I’m not joining you.”

“You have no reason not to,” the cultist said. “We can fix your broken body; make you look and seem as alive as the next person. Those remnants of a soul may not matter to the police, who’ll mark you as soulless anyway, but you know who it does matter to?” He pointed at the sky and at the group. “Them. Someone like you, who’s spent hours learning about heaven’s enemies…you think you have any chance of reaching heaven? HA!”

I fell silent. Just when I thought being registered as ‘dead’ to everyone you know meant they wouldn’t bother you about being a (rookie) demonologist anymore. That reminder worked my last nerve, yet every time it was brought up I could never muster up a proper defense.

“…I’m aware,” I mumbled.

“Besides, I’m sure you’re just livid at the police, who never caught who got you. I’m sure you’d like your vengeance against them for failing you…we can help you out with that, if you’d like. After all, why should we fear death, or judgement, from this life or the next? Like I’ve said, we’ve got no soul to weigh us down to heaven or hell. No death, no judgment. Just you, whatever you wanna do, and a welcoming oblivion who’ll spit you back out as many times as needed. As long as you keep it fed, that is.”

“It doesn’t matter if the police know or if they don’t know,” I said. “I know. And I’ll know more than they ever will. Besides, why the hell would I trust you to give me closure about my death–the death YOU caused?!”

The cultist frowned.

“And that’s just the trouble, isn’t it…you’re just about soulless, and the only soulless person New Lumanore who isn’t with us and…for what? You lose nothing by joining us!”

“First of all,” I shouted. “I am not soulless. Your stupid demon didn’t take all of it.”

“Yeah. Still not sure why that happened,” the cultist replied, “but who am I to question the great abyss–”

“Oh, shut up. And second of all–just in case you forgot–YOU KILLED ME! I don’t owe you loyalty, or gratitude, or mercy…I owe you nothing.”

“You may be upset now,” the cultist said, “but you’ll learn to thank us later.”

“I will not.”

His frown turned into a scowl. He took out a small cylinder from his pocket.

“I was gonna use this the day of the attack,” he said, “but I didn’t see any point. Seemed like the others were doing just fine without the staff.”

Sure enough, the cylinder popped open into a metal bo-staff. He walked towards me, twirling it through his fingers.

“You’ve been chasing the wrong thing, Shroud,” he said. “You think you need vengeance, but what you really need is security. We all know what being soulless is like. You’re weaker, you can’t heal your wounds, you can’t do magic, and it’s pretty obvious when you’ve just come back from the dead. I don’t care what three-percent of a soul you do have; it’s nowhere near enough for you to enjoy all the privileges of being fully human. Face it. You’re basically the same as us.”

As I stepped back, he stopped spinning the staff and instead gripped it with both hands.

“So you can either let go of those remnants you have the audacity to still call a soul, then come with us and let us give you the safety you so desperately need,” he said, rearing the staff back, “…or we’ll just break you further and let oblivion do what it wishes with your remains.”

He started to bring the staff down.

“WAIT!” I yelled, bringing my hands to my face.

Surprisingly enough, he actually froze, the staff a couple inches from my face.

“Okay…I get it…” I said. “You’re right. I won’t turn you in. Just…promise me you won’t tell anyone who I am.”

“What’s stopping me?” the cultist asked, cocking his head slightly and raising an eyebrow.

“Look. I didn’t turn you in,” I said. “You owe me.”

“No I don’t. I’m not tied to anything but oblivion.”

I let out an annoyed huff.

“Like I said. I’ll know if you exposed me,” I reminded him. “I don’t care if that scares you or not, just…let me go.”

“Let YOU go?! You jumped ME!”

“And I had—I…thought…I had the right to. Look…I’m backing down. You go about your night. I go about mine. We don’t speak of this.”

The cultist hesitated, then put the staff away.

“Fine,” he said. “But we’ll still come back for you. Whether or not your initiation goes smoothly is entirely on you.”

With that, he pulled out the same charm he had on the day of the attack, and vanished.

“See you around,” he said.

That was the last I heard of him that night.

Once I thought I was safe, I let out a loud groan of annoyance.

I had him. He was literally a few feet away. If I *just* had more shadow ink that would’ve been it for him.

But…he was right. I was at every possible disadvantage. And I couldn’t work like that. I shouldn’t have jumped him. I should’ve just taken note of his appearance and went from there. That was foolish on my part.

But…I did have his appearance now.

But he had my identity.

I still wasn’t at a complete advantage. And I couldn’t work like that. I had to lay low, and rebuild. My hand was wounded and I was lucky I didn’t get my skull bashed in. There was no way I could have recovered from that. But I wouldn’t give up. I had a lead and I wasn’t letting go of it.

I didn’t care about their ‘freedom’ or ‘not being tied down’ or anything like that. Fact of the matter is, they were hurting people, and their demon lord had more control over them than they’d realize.

They were beyond redemption. The demon didn’t bind them through any soul manipulation or contract–it was some weird combination of free will, gratitude, and the threat of permanent death.

These cultists had to go, and quickly. They had to pay, and dearly.

I know I’m weak, but once I’m back up and running I would do as much damage from the shadows as humanly possible.

They weren’t bound by any rules, so why should I have to be?

I didn’t care how many times I would get hurt. They ruined my life, and I was going to pay them back tenfold.

#original story #fiction story #creative writing #dark fantasy #urban fantasy #violence cw #death cw #cult cw #death tw #violence tw #cult tw

25 notes · View notes

lavendersage · 4 years

Note

i saw that post from the girl who's girlfriend isn't quite ready to be out. if ur blog didnt seem to celebrate love of all kinds (and i'm not talking straight vs gay, i'm talking happy vs sad) i would have kept this to myself, but between ur response and the op's story itself, i think im going to take this chance of sharing a burden on my heart, maybe to help someone else, or just for the shot at becoming at peace with it. a couple weeks ago, when u asked for everyone to send u stories of their lovers, i wrote most of this out but didnt send it.

i (21F) am a college student (god, is this reddit?). my entire life, i have cultivated the cleanest good girl image that i could. my parents sacrificed so much for my sister and i to grow up far more comfortable then they did, so i have tried to honor them with a little golden child they could brag about. straight As, never missed school, did community service, perfect SATs. i worked tirelessly to be on-paper perfect.

one of the reasons i've worked so hard to earn Good Noodle Stars is to make up for the fact that i am terminally homosexual. i realized real early that i could literally cure cancer and the first comment on the news video will be, "okay, she cured cancer, but at least I'm not gay like she is." i could raise thousands for charity, and my aunts would still say, "our kids may not get off the couch but at least they have sex correctly." so they dont know. few people do, none outside my closest circle.

in walks Mars(21NB). Mars is an anachronism. they are both a romantic with and without a capital R. be still my Dark Academia heart.

we got very close before school broke for Covid. Mars wrote me a letter every other week, encrypted and folded so that the only way to open them was to rip a paper seam that would show if someone had tampered with it. it was intoxicating. it was the first time i felt able to communicate freely about anything. i dont know - i didnt hold back my emotions, emboldened by writing in cipher. i spent all summer waiting for those red sealed envelopes, filled with stories and poetry and honeyed nonsense, and i refused to not respond with mirrored passion.

it was all great until it set in that I was going to have to face Mars again, in person. i prayed our school would decide all students had to stay remote. of course I wanted to see Mars, i want to do much more than just see them, but i knew it would only be a matter of time between us being reunited and them asking me out.

this was a person who crafted a puzzle where the answers were flowers that were a declaration of fidelity in Victorian Flower Language. of course i ate that up with a spoon. u would have too. listen, i know all aesthetics are fads and all fads age badly, but if the cottagecore girls get to learn to sew and bake and grow, i owe dark academia for teaching me the vocabulary and actions of my most treasured relationship yet, and giving me permission to be earnest and vulnerable in this life for 10 goddamn minutes. Mars is handsome and a genius and i was not used to feeling connected to anyone. but for all that joy, i was also drowning with the thought of having to break their heart by explaining i cant date anyone AFAB.

so the semester starts. Mars asks me over for a homecooked meal since restaurants don't exist here at the end of the world. they made me a beautiful dinner with all my dietary needs in mind. just like everything else i ate it up. and i made no effort to stop them from inviting me over for food and conversation again and again and a fourth time just to make sure it really hurt.

they kissed me after the last dinner. and I kissed them back, before stopping. they apologized for moving too quickly, but i explained that they had moved at the perfect pace, just with the wrong person.

there is no nice ending to this. it's real life. Mars took it as a breakup and didnt reach out to me again. i sobbed from halloween to christmas, i swear. i'm the villain in this story.

i started this post off as a sign of solidarity to the other young lady, but now im realizing that this letter would be better read by her fearful beloved, not her. it is 4am where i live, so i apologize if this has all gotten away from me.

love is a garden u have to water yourself. ngl, my favorite part about this blog is all the posts about learning to love yourself, learning to see ur intrinsic value dispite the core facets of u that have been deemed flaws, and trust the relationship between me, myself, and i.

i started out telling myself i was writing this to help the high school kid, but i havent shared this with anyone. writing this out has helped me process a thing or two, or at least start to. i like this idea of lavendersage being a kindly cryptid who will alchemise ur heartache into calm.

i hope you dont mind if i try to make this a thing.

my story is in the shape of a love letter. its tearstained before it even hits the water. i drop it in your river and watch it float away.

y’all are breaking my heart with these stories this week 🤧i feel so sad to read them and so helpless to respond, because i know how deep that pain must run and i don’t know if there’s truly anything i could say or do to take it away. but if i can lessen it from 100 to 99, well, then i’ll have fulfilled my goal of existing on this website. at the very least, i’m glad that writing this message helped you process some things on your own, but i’m happy to share my thoughts anyway.

your mars sounds like a top tier human being. victorian flower language? i’m swooning. it’s no surprise to me that you fell for them, and they were clearly head over heels for you. folks don’t make grand gestures like that for just anyone, that’s for sure 🥺

and i’m very sad to hear about the way things ended. but, anon, i can’t help but wonder if it is indeed over, or if hope exists on the precipice of a great act of bravery performed by you--something i know from experience is much easier said than done, and something i’ve failed to do in the past, so i’m not trying to be a hypocrite here. the ball is definitely in your court, though.

also...it doesn’t sit well with me to hear you call yourself a villain. i understand why you see it that way, as it’s clear that you deeply care for this person. but for many folks...the fear of what our family will say or think or do weighs so heavily on us that it robs us of any possibility of happiness with someone who isn’t the kind of person our family wants us to end up with. i’m sure plenty of folks, myself included, can empathize with this. and i’m sure on some level, mars does too.

my love, as with all things, i hope whatever happens next works out for the best, and that you don’t let this experience darken your heart. if things change between you and mars, please feel free to drop me a note. i’ll always be here to listen 💚💚💚`

#asks #Anonymous

28 notes · View notes

benevolentlibraryghost · 3 years

Text

The guy she told you not to worry about

Some books are written with a promising concept at the base of its story. Take ‘the end of the world’, for example. There is an abundance of psychological drama to explore there, the different human reactions to their near future extinction.

However, not all books live up to their potential. I’m looking at you, We All Looked Up.

Aforementioned concept is used in this book. The story revolves around four teens and their friends and families living their lives ‘peacefully’. They are the most cliché characters ever, though. The ultimate the Breakfast Club rip-off is proud to present these stereotypical characters to you:

the athletic guy who’s only personality traits are being handsome, kind and athletic;

the girl with a sad backstory who is made an outcast, has a Tumblr blog and always has her camera around;

the dude who puts zero effort into anything except skating, smoking weed and saying “yo” a lot;

and the girl who is top of her class because her parents only care about her studying hard, but who actually wants to be a singer.

Their lives are more or less turned upside down by Obama. Just kidding, he is only the bearer of bad news in this story. Ardor, our lovely antagonist, is an asteroid that is heading for planet earth. Chance of extinction is a whopping 66%. As expected, people lose their minds. They still want to make something of their last two months on earth, but are also outraged by the government’s way of handling this crisis. That’s pretty much all the psychological drama.

The novel started off slow and boring. But to make matters worse: when the news finally arrived, the plot went downhill. Instead of making the most of their final days, the main characters set fire to a building, join a psycho gang, use a taser on their best friend and neglect a terminally ill parent... Just the worst characters.

My biggest problem would be the insane amount of mansplaining and offensive remarks that the author makes. My favorite example: to include LGBTQ+ in his book, a transgender character is brought up once and called “Jess-who-used-to-be-a-girl”. I was so creeped out.

To be fair, the book also had a few nice points. Someone got stabbed, that was pretty legit. But overall, I was not satisfied. I am going to look up a better Armageddon book.

Rating: 2/5 end-of-the-world bets

#we all looked up #tommy wallach #books #review

2 notes · View notes

diyunho · 4 years

Text

The Joker x Reader - “6 Feet”

With the scary events unfolding lately all over the world, Gotham is under lockdown also. The Joker and his girlfriend are self-quarantining at the Penthouse: needless to say entertaining him it’s no easy chore but thankfully Y/N can handle any type of situation. Probably…

Batsy

You almost drop your coffee mug when you see The Joker dangling outside the railing from the second floor of The Penthouse.

“What are you doing, J??!!!”

“Pumpkin, wanna bet I can land on the couch from here?” he flares one arm in the air.

“It’s too far off, you’ll never make it!” you mentally calculate the trajectory.

“Pfft, bullshit! If Batsy can do crap like this, so can I!”

“You don’t have the gear and training, J!”

“Gear??!! Training??!! I don’t need that; I’m not a wimp!”

“Fine, go ahead and break your neck!” Y/N gives up on the already lost cause. “How much are we betting?”

“50,000 dollars.”

“You got yourself a deal Mister Joker,” you take a sip of coffee, annoyed his desire for chaos is already surging to unspeakable heights after being trapped inside for the last 3 weeks.

The King of Gotham flexes his knees a few times for equilibrium and… here he goes: barely misses the couch, one leg gets caught on the night stand and BAM! Lands on the floor with a loud thud.

“Uugghhhh,” he groans in pain flat on his back. “Y/N… I think I fractured my limbs.”

You slowly approach and ignore his complains, pointing out the truth:

“You owe me 50,000 dollars. And if you fractured your bones, I’m going to strangle you on the spot because there is no way I’m taking care of a stubborn patient!”

The Joker makes an extra effort to react at your ultimatum:

“Excellent news, Princess. I can move my toes!”

You roll your eyes and extend one of your arms to help him up.

“Lucky indeed, J. Are you doing this for attention?”

“Gotta keep the flame going, Pumpkin,” The Clown whizzes up a storm, trying to catch his breath following the glorious bungee jumping without a rope.

Baldy

Supposedly J is in convalescence, thus he wanted a haircut. You are both watching TV in the living room, your boyfriend sitting on a chair while you shape the locks behind him.

You start laughing at the funny movie so your hand slips: the trimmer shaves a patch of The Joker’s fabulous green hair, leaving him with a beautiful quarter sized bald spot.

Oh, shit!

He has no idea his perfect groomed style it’s butchered; better to ride this crazy train until he notices. You comb what you can from the longer strands on top of the mess you created, lying without blinking at his question:

“How did it turn out?”

“Impeccable, baby! My flair and precision regarding detail is through the roof,” you boast full of confidence.

The Heinlein Maneuver

You’re tossing bullets at J, attempting to make them land in his mouth.

“Wow, you’re getting pretty good at this!” Y/N praises and he suddenly chokes. “Oh my God!” you panic. “Spit it out! Spit it out!”

You run behind him and start The Heinlein Maneuver which you had to learn in order to repeatedly save The Joker as a result of this being one the couple’s favorite games to play.

One, two, three… Pfuuu, there it goes: the bullet flies out of him!

The King is taking a few moments to recover whilst you impatiently want to find out what he saw this time: whenever he has these near death experiences he sees weird stuff.

“What was it this time?” you curiously inquire.

“I saw Batsy naked,” he exhales full of spite. “That asshole is totally invading my privacy!”

“Naked?” your entitled smirk makes him lose it. “Was he circumcised?”

“Excuse me??!!”

“A girl can be curious,” Y/N defends her inquiry.

“Listen here, woman! The dilemma you should be quizzing me about is if I saw his face so we can identify him!”

“Well, did you?”

“Nope.”

“Then it’s irrelevant.”

“I nearly died Princess! All I need right now is mindless fornication to aid with my rehabilitation,” the strategist in J blurs out.

“You did this to get laid?”

“Gotta keep the flame going, Pumpkin!”

6 Feet

You sneezed twice in a row and The Joker has suspiciously watched you like a hawk since.

“Do you feel sick, Pumpkin?...”

“No, it’s my allergies,” you blow your nose in a tissue and cough due to a scratchy throat.

“Are you sure?...”

“Yes, you know I get like this at spring time.”

“Hm…” J huffs. “I don’t think we should risk infection, I’m too important for this town. I say you take the south part of The Penthouse and I’ll reside in the west. Don’t come any closer, stay at least 6 feet apart just like the regulations stipulate. You can move in the room across from the master bedroom.”

“Huh?!” the baffled Y/N pretends she didn’t comprehend the words. “I have allergies, J!!! ALLERGIES!!!!”

“6 feet Pumpkin! Don’t make me repeat myself!!”

Booty Call

You got mad and moved into the other bedroom; I guess The King wants to be safe from your allergies because that’s what you have and nothing more. Does he ever listen to reason? Nah, that would be a first.

You’re reading a book when your cell phone goes off: an invitation to chat from your man. Across the hallway…Yup…

“Pumpkin!” his face pops on the screen. “I wanna have phone sex!!!!”

“No,” you immediately cut him off, annoyed.

“What do you mean no?! I’m about to blow a gasket over here!!!!!!!!!”

“I don’t care what happens to your gasket Mister Joker, as long as you keep it 6 feet away from me!!” and you hang up.

“How dare you, Princess?!” he shouts at your defiance. “I’ll open an account on PinchMyButt and I’ll pick another partner to tend to my overloaded system!”

“Be my guest!” you snort at his rudeness since you can actually hear him to start with.

PinchMyButt.com

One of the most popular online dating/hook up websites. Period.

The Joker uploaded his profile one hour ago and instead of being flocked with pinches like he thought, there’s no activity besides users flagging the account for “inappropriate content”. Members reckon it’s distasteful to have someone pretending to be The Clown Prince of Crime searching for a match; they have no clue it’s genuine.

Another hour passes by… zero pinches.

J is getting pissed.

30 more minutes… Ding! The app announces.

“Ha!” he triumphantly yells. “Somebody pinched my butt, Pumpkin! Oh, she said I have nice nipples and a cute bald spot! I don’t have a bald spot! Who is this?!” he investigates the blog name: iHaveAllergies69.

Rings a bell: you kept on telling him this plus his girl preferred sex position…

“Pumpkin, is that you?!” The Joker shrieks.

“Yeah!” you admit from the other bedroom. “I felt sorry for you!”

“I don’t want your pity! Unpinch me! Wait, my account just got suspended: due to a large number of objections, you’re account has been terminated. What the hell?! What am I supposed to do now, Princess?“

“Dunno, you’re the one that wanted us to be apart and it’s an excellent rule! I’m enjoying my isolation; you should do the same.”

“How can you enjoy confinement?”

“I’m having fun!”

“Without me?! Impossible! I put the fun in dysfunctional!”

Boinky

The elevator’s doors slide and Frost strolls inside carrying a box.

“Not a step further!” J mumbles taking the safely off his pistol.

He misses threatening people thus when the guys bring food and supplies to The Penthouse he tries to shoot them.

“What’s in there?” he gestures towards the cardboard container.

“Not sure, sir. Y/N ordered it online.”

“Open it!” the stern order leaves no room for hesitation.

Jonny rips the scotch tape and removes the pink, fluffy toy.

“What the heck is this?!” The Joker frowns at its shape.

Frost analyzes the plush item and it clicks.

“Boss, I think it’s a…”

“PUMPKIN!!!!” The Clown interrupts. “Why does this atrocity resemble my crown jewelry???!!” he screams you as you show up in the living room.

A super excited squeal:

“Boinky arrived!!!” and Y/N rushes to get her package. “Toss it! Toss it!!” you wave your arms and Jonny does as required. “I need something to cuddle with since you kicked me to the curve,” you finally address him.

“And you couldn’t find a teddy bear?!”

Flame

The Joker barges in your bedroom while spraying around with disinfectant mist:

“Pumpkin, this is the biggest emergency Gotham has ever faced!!!!” he frantically takes his clothes off and you jump because you just fell asleep 5 minutes ago.

“What is it?” you snuggle with your fuzzy trinket.

“Goddamn Boinky!” your boyfriend snatches the toy and flings it out the opened window.

“What are you doing?!”

“I’m about to explode, woman! That’s what!!! My online dating was abruptly halted by unforeseen factors so I have no choice,” he viciously starts yanking at you tank top. “I either risk contamination or I blow a gasket and that means kaput!”

“I have allergies,” you frown and J tugs at your shorts in a hurry, irritated.

“Exposing myself like this!” he continues bickering and Y/N can’t help it:

“Just like Batsy did?”

The King gasps, appalled you twisted his near death experience vision in such a hasty manner.

“Unacceptable!” he pulls you under him and your eerie grin prompts doubt: “Hold on! Did you purchase Boinky to intrigue me and made sure I can’t blow my gasket anywhere else with the sole purpose of having me crawl back to you?!”

Y/N innocently kisses the tip of his nose, whispering:

“Gotta keep the flame going, baby.”

most popular multi-chapter fic:

Co-written, it’s definitely mallverse, which is I think the reason most writers definitely hate us because it’s very long and there are a lot of tags lmao. The problem is that every tagged character HAS shown up in a significant fashion at some point so we can’t just...untag them! It doesn’t update weekly anymore because we’re exhausted by life lmao so at least there’s that???

As for a multi-chapter fic that was just me, I don’t tend to do that so much, so actually it’s say you will, my 3-chapter Endgame fix-it where Clint dies instead of Natasha and Natasha and Laura have a past. It actually has over 1000 hits which is very exciting! I feel like it’s...niche in a way that is frustrating but understandable lol. I put a lot of my heart into it and some people really liked it, so that’s gratifying.

favorite story you’ve written so far:

Co-written, I think our SHIELD Dollhouse AU is very underrated for the amount of work we put into it. Author bias evident here because I love Dollhouse warts and all, and it’s a lot of fun translating episode plots as well as the general trajectory of the show into stuff that will work with SHIELD characters. We don’t just rewrite episodes, we really try and rework them as needed. Also it features both Skimmons and my beloved rarepair Bobbi/Kara, though of course they won’t get together until later.

Of my own stuff, I’m still really really proud of the AU where Kara Palamas didn’t die. I think that was a pretty severe misstep of the show and I think I did a good job of fixing it. (I haven’t forgotten Kara, promise!)

fic you were nervous to post:

lolololol I wrote some uh. Terminator pornography last year and. They are very porny! I had co-written a bunch of smut obviously, but that was the first time I’d posted like, PWP all by myself on purpose??? and that was TERRIFYING. Also I was very nervous to post the Engame fix-it because that was my own personal goodbye/tribute to Natasha.

how you choose your titles:

They are always either song lyrics or jokes (such as Three Lawyers and a Baby, my Daredevil Accidental Baby Acquisition fic). My WIP docs are always titled either obvious shit like “RoseJannah horse girls” or memes like “what if we belonged to a fire cult and we fucked haha just kidding unless...?” or “Morgan has two mommies.”

do you outline?:

B and I typically outline for the co-written fics, although it’s more often chapter-by-chapter outlines since that’s how we write them. On occasion we’ve fully planned multi-chapter stuff out in advance but that’s less common. Oh and the one-shots are nearly always outlined as well, just to keep ourselves organized.

When I have written planned multi-chapter fics in the past I have used outlines - particularly for the Kara one and I had to do that for the SHIELD Kill Bill AU because I was trying to follow the format of the movie. For things that are allegedly supposed to be one-shots I almost never outline, which turns out to be a terrible idea when they inevitably balloon beyond my control and become 45k like say you will. That one, I wrote out a list of scenes I thought needed to be in it and then I wrote about 75% of those scenes and then I wrote a bunch more scenes I hadn’t planned for. Don’t be like me, kids!

complete fics:

According to AO3, 89 as of right now. Uh, you do not want me to list all of them, here’s a link, I guess!

in progress:

I don’t understand what the difference is between this question and the WIP questions lmao help????

posted WIPs that I have active plans to continue at this time:

Cowritten: mallverse as I said, and its femslash smut oneshots spinoff and character flashbacks spinoff and older characters/teachers spinoff (these get updated, uh, irregularly), the first half of a Piper/Snowflake SHIELD s7 fic that we are planning on finishing the second half of soonish, SHIELD Dollhouse AU, SHIELD Teen Beach AU, SHIELD Buffy AU. You may notice a pattern!

By myself, I have: Have Your Elf a Merry Little Christmas, a Terminator Hallmark Christmas fic that I ambitiously posted the first chapter of in 2019 and then lost steam immediately (I am going to go back to it sooner or later bc I had some cute ideas for it); the SHIELD Fate of the Furious AU that has one chapter to go and which I do intend on finishing eventually; Three Lawyers and a Little Lady, the Daredevil Accidentally Baby Acquisition AU that is literally just cute kidfic and poly avocados and which I have a bunch of ideas for and just need to buckle down and finish some.

posted WIPs that I have given up on:

Lol so there’s a Dollhouse Caroline/Bennett Doctor Who AU that I wrote purely as idfic and which nobody ever cared about except me, and I think that ship has sailed! RIP darlings. I also had an ongoing Skimmons series waaaay back when where I posted oneshots that were like missing scenes or gay readings for each s1 episode, and I just feel like it would be inauthentic to even try and finish it at this point. (It does include the first ever Skimmons fic to be posted on AO3! Really truly, there’s one fic that shows up as older but it’s an ongoing fic and was updated with the tag way after I posted mine.)

exchange fics due soon/unrevealed:

I haven’t done an exchange since like 2015 lololol I am so bad at them. I am currently working on finishing up my MCU Femslash bingo card, very late, and I do have plans for almost all of the remaining squares!

WIPs that live in my fanfic folder and are incomplete and who knows when they’ll be finished:

“RoseJannah horse girls,” which has been put on hold temporarily but is literally just Rose and Jannah being gay while riding orbaks

half of a Daisy/Gwen fic from Marvel Rising because I know they’re not making any more of those but I stg those two were really gay

multiple fics about Elise Nelson-Page including: avocados Halloween with smol Elise, Aunt Elektra very reluctantly taking smol Elise shopping until she realizes smol Elise also likes weapons (she buys her a fake katana), Uncle Frank is a pushover and spoils the shit out of Elise, and baby Elise has a high fever and everyone freaks out but then she gets better and smile at them for the first time (inspired by baby me lol).

coming soon/not yet started:

“Morgan has two mommies,” yet another Endgame fix-it where Maya Hansen did not die in Iron Man 3 and she resurfaces and she and Pepper kiss and eventually she adopts Morgan

Claire and Colleen go on a nice date to get coffee/tea where Danny doesn’t interrupt them goddammit

Bobbi/Kara Warehouse 13 AU which is sort of like “For the Team” but gayer ft. grappling hook

X-Men: Evolution Tabby/Amara fluff

Cameron/Donna character study disguised as smut

Grace proposes to Dani with a ring made out of the metal from her power source and Carl officiates the wedding

Dani gets horny watching Grace eat a peach and jerks off and Grace ends up hearing her and then they fuck (I have been calling this “the peach fic” in my head but I gotta stop being delicate about it lmfao it is just porn)

B and I have plans to do a Nico/Karolina Jasper in Deadland AU but we keep forgetting

I MUST WRITE FOGGY AND KAREN SADLY FUCKING IN A CHURCH WHILE THEY MOURN MATT THIS YEAR I STG

do you accept prompts:

uhhhhhh I have on occasion written a prompt for someone before but it’s pretty rare and I have enough trouble writing the shit I come up with in my own head lol. but never say never?

upcoming story you are most excited to write:

I’ve got a bit of the Bobbi/Kara Warehouse fic written and it’s nice to go back to that world. Also I’m weirdly excited about the Cam/Donna smutty character study I mentioned above, I have a lot of what I think are good ideas for it and it’ll be fun.

tagging @unwind-myself @swiftzeldas @swashbucklery @loved-the-stars-too-fondly and, if you want to, you!

#sometimes I write things

9 notes · View notes

doof-doofblog · 3 years

Text

"Hello, Sis!"

Tuesday 6th April 2021

Hello again everyone! Wow! Feels like it's been a while since I last posted, I had a very busy week last week and again this week being back at work! I'm sure you must all be happy regarding the lockdown easing ever so slowly! I've come to the realisation that now I'm back to the day job, my posts will have to be done in the evenings, so I apologise if some of them seem late from now on. I'm planning on possibly doing another blog post tomorrow and then a double on Thursday in an attempt to catch up! I know the majority of you have already seen last week's episodes, it seems I have a lot of catching up to do!

We know that things are supposed to be kicking off this week (commencing 12th April) due to the return of Nancy Carter and the possible outcome of Kush's trial? I do have a fear Kush may be killed off and become another victim of Gray's but I am hoping that that doesn't happen! But before we can even begin to get excited about it, I need to post about the episodes that you guys have seen, but unfortunately I haven't.

So without further ado, I'm going to begin chatting about Isaac. It seems that Sheree seems to have overstepped the mark regarding both Lola and Patrick. I mean of course she is acting as the concerned Mum and Wife, but she needs to realise that there are some things she can't interfere with. Patrick has been offered the opportunity to go on blood thinners as an experiment for stroke victims - (at least that's the jist I got from it anyway!) - but Sheree is standing her ground claiming she doesn't want her husband to take part in it, purely because she fears for his health. Again, I can understand her concern but she can't stop Patrick from doing something he may want to do, considering he's already suffered two strokes whilst on the Square, he'll want to do his part in helping other victims.

But also where Lola is concerned, Sheree is still interfering in her son's relationship, for a brief moment it looked as if she had scared poor Lola off! Finally Isaac has sat his Mum down and told her straight to stop interfering with everybody's lives, even claiming that some times she can come across as controlling, even though her concern comes from a good place. For the first time in a long time, Isaac is feeling ready to enter another relationship, and he informs her Mum that with Lola, it feels right, he's slowly falling for her and there could be chance that she is feeling the same and the relationship could become serious?!

As Isaac instruct his Mum to kind of back off, Lola appears to have escaped to the Vic. Oh and once again Peter seems it's necessary to poke his nose into business that has nothing to do with him! Urgh, I really don't know about any one else, but for me personally - Peter is one of the worst characters the soap has right now, not in the sense of villainy, but just as a whole - his attitude towards his family, thinking he's the big I AM, urgh I don't like him, I really don't! Something has to change with this Peter I think, what about you guys?! Do you agree or do you think I'm being a little bit harsh? Either way he insults Lola and manages to persuade her to tell him what's on her mind. Believing he's a trusted friend, Lola confides in Peter, informing him about Isaac's diagnosis - something I fear she will possibly live to regret. But after her meeting with Peter, she eventually meets up with Isaac in the club and he informs her to not let his Mother scare her off, Isaac has full control over his illness right now and there would be no way for Lola to trigger any kind of breakdown. Let's hope things remain this way, right? But something is telling me that with all this positivity and reassuring that Isaac is fine and he has everything under control, something is telling me that eventually Isaac will have some form of breakdown and hopefully EastEnders will be able to have an opportunity to portray what having schizophrenia is really like!

Oooooo and what is this?! A possible new love interest for Bernie?! It's about bloody time!!! So, I'm sure the majority of you know that the Taylor family have taken in a new dog named Banjo after finding him on the streets and assuming he was a stray. Unfortunately, since the dog has been in their possession, some flyers advertising the lost dog have been spreading around the Square. Mitch was the first one to notice them, but not wanting to break his young daughter's heart, after their new family member has brought her so much happiness, he disposed of the flyer and never said a word about it to his family.

Now after this young girl seems to catch her eye on the Square, denying to Bailey that she's does not have a crush on her, she claims that she was just interested in the girl's flyer's. As Bailey goads her to ask for one, Bernadette comes to realise what the girl is advertising. (Also just zooming through the end credits of the episode now, there happen to be two female names of who this young lady could be - "Clara" or "Molly" - It'll be interesting if she was to show up again!) Taking the flyer back home, Bernie sadly informs her Mum and Mitch that a girl is out there looking for her dog, who they happen to have living with them, and his name isn't Banjo, it's Ziggy!

At first it seems the Taylor's are in a bit of a denial, it's understandable that they've grown to love the dog, but when Karen calls him by the name "Ziggy", the dog automatically responds. Bernie claims that they have to do the right thing and return the dog to it's rightful owner, however Mitch is looking deeply suspicious as Karen realises that he knew about the flyer's a couple of weeks ago and never said anything. He claims he didn't want to break Bailey's heart after all the loss she's had in recent months. It's then that Karen happens to agree with Mitch and states that the dog will be staying with them. They instruct Bernie to call the girl up and give her false story about the dog. Poor Bernadette isn't one for lying, so it's quite funny and yet sweet when she attempts to make up a story about the dog being lashed into a van to the unknown female. But it seems the girl can see right through Bernie and claims that she saw the way she was looking at her in the Square and offers to buy her a drink. Even though Bernie is already hiding the fact that she has her dog, could this be the start of new relationship for her?!

Ooh yea, so Ruby and Lily are still at loggerheads with each other! After devastatingly realising that Lily has cut her deceased Mum's wedding dress to pieces, Ruby is demanding that Lily leaves the house. Even though Lily isn't Ruby's biggest fan right now, it's clear that she had no idea that the dress belonged to her Mum, but it turns out she might've known that it was a special piece of clothing as Ruby states the dress was kept in a box at the back of her cupboard.

As Martin sends his daughter upstairs to get changed out of Ruby's clothes, he begins to think of some kind of punishment for his daughter, informing his wife that Lily is simply just missing her Mum. However it seems that Ruby's day goes from bad to worse, after discovering the state of her Mother's ripped dress, she informs her husband that she got a call from the clinic. It turns out the Ruby could most likely have endometriosis and that their fears about not having any more children is more likely. Devastatingly, endometriosis is severe and it could mean that she may not be able to have any more children in the future, sadly the one she lost might've been her only chance of being a Mum.

Understandably devastated for his wife, Martin realises he needs to do something to cheer her up. As Lily recovers from changing out of Ruby's clothes, Martin informs Ruby that Lily's punishment is to give her no access to any electronics for a week, and in an attempt to make things up to Ruby, Lily "apparently" has offered to give up her birthday money if it means there could be a way to salvage the ruined wedding dress. Ruby is visibly touched by the kind gesture, claiming that she didn't mean what she said about wanting her to move out, she claims that being her Stepmother - she'll always have a place to stay with them. Lily just simply smiles.

As Martin informs his wife of bubble bath waiting for her upstairs, Ruby thanks her Stepdaughter once again and leaves the room. As Martin follows, giving her the thumbs-up, it seems as if they think Lily will be okay and there'll be no more issues, but from the look on Lily's face, she really doesn't seem happy. Something was telling me that maybe she was being forced to apologise to Ruby? She clearly didn't mean her apology, is she still going to make Ruby's life a living nightmare?!

Oh Jean!!! Poor Jean!! I know I mentioned it in the last post, but I'm going to mention it again, I cannot applaud Gillian Wright enough for her performance as Jean! Jean clearly isn't coping with having her daughter back inside again while she's suffering a terminal illness, all she wants really is to be back with her daughter. As everyone gathers and sees the commotion, Sharon comes to realise that the only reason Jean is acting this way and holding herself up in the vehicle is because she wants to be with her daughter.

In an attempt to get Jean out of the van, Sharon pleads to the police to let her talk to her softly. As she approaches the fragile woman in the vehicle, she explains that even though she understands how Jean is feeling, the actions she's currently doing won't help her in any way. Even though Jean wants to be arrested in an attempt to be with her daughter, Sharon informs her that if she was to get arrested and put in prison, there is no guaranteed chance that she'd end up in the same prison as Stacey, in hindsight the only thing she'd get out of it is probably a criminal record and a hefty fine.

Realising her mistake and that possibly her actions may not get her close to her daughter, Jean agrees to switch off the engine and leave the vehicle. Now the next scene between Sharon and Jean I found funny but really touching also, I don't know why but I've loved the friendship that they've begun to build with these two characters. Two women I never thought would have each other's backs, but it seems that they are both struggling with things in their personal life, and I just LOVED how they both fell about laughing about the outcome of things, Sharon realising she's a single Mother with no money and how Jean has almost corrupted her new gym business. I found the scene really heart-warming as both the women agreed that sometimes shouting out to life itself is sometimes the only thing they have left?

I just loved it, it was as if they have a mutual understanding of each other and they found some common ground. Jean opened up to Sharon and Sharon opened up to Jean, even informing her about discovering a long lost brother that she's still unsure of whether to contact or not. But as Jean claims that having family around you is one of the most important things, Sharon seems to see it as another man in her life who she doesn't really need and decides to bin the phone number.

However, later as Sharon unfortunately misses her date with Kheerat and ends up drinking alone, Jean excitedly approaches her new found friend, even though she appears excited she also seems a little nervous and jittery. Admitting she might've overstepped the mark, she repeats the fact that Sharon needs her family around her and considering she hasn't got that many members of her family left ..... ?! Sharon questions what Jean has done and it's only when they get out onto the Square they see a car pulling up and stepping out of it, appears Zack! Jean only contacted her brother! But the interesting thing that gets me, Zack greets Sharon by calling her "Sis!" - last time he saw her, he had no idea who she was, just another person who attended his Dad's funeral, does this mean that Jean informed about Sharon's true identity?!

Either way, I'm super excited to see what happens next, I'll be sure to follow up this post with another one tomorrow. I once again apologise for this being super late, I'm going to try my very best to catch up, regardless at being back to the day job! Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening. Please feel free to leave me any messages or comments about EastEnders and I'll happily reply! Love you all xXx

#eastenders #isaac baptiste #sheree trueman #patrick trueman #lolapearce #bernadettetaylor #baileybaker #mitchbaker #karentaylor #rubyfowler #martinfowler #lilyslater #jeanslater #staceyslater #sharonwatts #zackhudson

1 note · View note

dacrethehalls · 5 years

Text

Pacific

Summary: Billy’s Girlfriend discovers she is terminally ill. WORD COUNT: 1.5K A/N: This Is A repost from my old now deleted blog Hollandoatz. This takes place in season 2. This story is based off the music video for Ever Enough by A Rocket To The Moon(rip)

***********

I walked into school silently going to last period. I had missed all day due to a doctor's appointment I wish I had never gone to. I walked into class giving my doctors note to the teacher before taking a seat next to my boyfriend, Billy Hargrove. He reached across his desk lightly brushing his fingers against my arm.

"You want to tell me where you have been all day?" He whispered leaning over to me pressing a kiss to my cheek. "I've been a little worried, you never miss school"

I smiled at him placing my hand on top of his which was still rubbing my arm. "I need to talk to you later. After school can we go to our spot?" I asked. Concern washed over his face as he nervously bit down on his lip. "Yeah, of course anything for my bear." I smiled again rubbing small circles on his hand with my thumb.

Billy and I have practically been together since he got to Hawkins. He was the total opposite of the kind of guys I had ever gone out with. But since we lived on the same cul du sac so we saw always saw each other.

One day he pulled up next to me as I was going for a walk in the neighborhood, it was on a day I had a round of chemo making me completely exhausted, but I always needed to get out of my house. My mother was the type to hover and that made me more nauseated than the chemo did.

A blue Camaro pulled up next to me as the tires squealed and the passenger window rolled down. "Hey! Caroline? That's your name right?" I nodded looking at the very attractive boy in the car. "Yeah and you're...Billy?"

"That's my name! What are you doing out here alone?" He asked as I leaned on the window. "Walking. Thinking. Getting out of my house" he chuckled reaching over and opening the door for me "I was just about to go for a drive and do the same thing. Want to join me?"

I was hesitant to get in the car with a guy i just met but I did it anyway. We drove around for a while talking before stopping at a diner. He noticed my bruises I had on my arms questioning where they came from and telling me where he got his.

"Chemo makes you bruise easily, this is just from me sleeping on my arm wrong." I said making him frown. "Chemo? You have cancer?" he asked making me nod. "Broke my arm when I was 16, two weeks later the doctors tell me I have osteosarcoma, cancer of the bones"

Billy sat back crossing his arms. "Well, shit. That really sucks"

I chuckled tearing at a piece of my grilled cheese. "Yeah it does. But life can really suck sometimes"

"You're right about that Bear."

I lifted an eyebrow at the nickname he had just given me. "Like Care Bear, but that's lame and I figured either your mother or father call you that. So I shortened it" he said with a laugh obviously trying to make the cancer bomb atmosphere less awkward.

We sat in the diner talking about anything and everything until we eventually were kicked out so they could close up. Billy walked me up to my door after parking at his house. "It was nice meeting you" He said with a smile.

"Yeah, it was. Welcome to hawkins i guess" I leaned in kissing his cheek.

His smile grew wider as he touched his cheek. "I'll see you around Caroline" he turned around walking across the street towards his house. We waved to each other before going inside.

We've been inseparable ever since.

School was a whole other story. Billy quickly rose to popularity making me fear that our tiny little bubble would soon be burst by somebody more popular and even prettier and less sicker than me.

But it never did, at school he'd always find some way to touch me, whether it be his arms around my shoulder walking down the hall or his hand resting on my arm in class. He made sure everyone knew I was his.

***

Billy and I walked out into a small clearing in the woods with hundreds of wild flowers. He laid out a blanket sitting down on it pulling me between his legs. I started crying silently as he placed kisses up and down my neck.

"Bear, are you going to tell me what's wrong?" He whispered

"I was at the doctor today it wasn't good."

Realization washed over his face without me having to say anything. He clenched his jaw letting tears escape from his eyes. "How long?" he whispered his voice cracking.

"Two good months, and possibly a third spent in the hospital." he leaned his head on my shoulder silently sobbing. I turned around pulling his face to look up at me. "We have two good months. Let's make the best of it. Okay?" I said kissing his nose.

"Okay, bear." He leaned in pressing his lips to mine before laying his head back on my shoulder crying again.

***

"We're leaving" Billy announced as he climbed in my window. "Um...what?" I asked as he pulled a suitcase from under my bed.

"We're leaving. I'm taking you to see California." He said as he took clothes out of my closet throwing them in the suitcase on the floor. "Um....what?" I repeated sitting up.

"Don't you want to see as much as you can before you can't? It's been a month, you're still healthy right now Caroline, so, you and I are taking the Camaro out to California." I stood up grabbing Billy's hand pulling him over to my bed. "Did you hit your head to hard at basketball practice or did Steve Harrington punch you in the face again?"

"Caroline, no. Now come on and will you help me pack?" Billy pleaded as he got up going through my dresser throwing various things into or completely missing the suitcase.

"What about school?" I asked making him groan. "I'll catch up when we get back. It's boring there without you anyway. Now get up and help me pack your stuff."

I stared at him before climbing off the bed and onto the floor folding and neatly placing everything he was throwing at me. He was right. The only thing I have ever known was Hawkins, Indiana. I was born and raised here my family being too poor to go no further than the states that surrounded our own, especially since I got sick, all of the money they had went towards my medical treatments.

Billy grabbed my medications placing them in a toiletry bag. Plopping on the floor next to me.

"I love you" he murmured pressing his lips to my temple. "You're going to love California."

***

"I promise I'm ok mom, we'll be back in two weeks." I whispered sitting on the bed next to Billy. I sighed into the phone as my mom told me for the hundredth time to come back home. "I love you, mom, but I can't spend my last few months at home in my room being comfortable. I'm with Billy, you know I'll be ok." I hung up leaning into him. "She's mad, but she knows I'm safe with you"

It had taken us a little over a week to drive from Indiana to California, with us stopping at random places and also stopping if I needed to get out of the car and rest. Billy had some family in Cali so we planned to stay for a few days before heading home.

He wrapped his arms around me as my feet hit the pacific ocean. "I told you it was beautiful here. Nothing can compare to this place." I turned looking up at him kissing his jaw line.

"Thank you for bringing me here." I whispered as he hugged me tighter. "Thank you for making me feel like this place does. You're my little slice of California in Hawkins"

"You're such a cheese ball" I said pushing him in the water and running away.

"Caroline!" He yelled hitting the water so it would splash on to me. I squealed as he grabbed me pulling me down into the water too both of us laughing and splashing each other.

I made him take me to the beach everyday until it was time to head back to Indiana.

***

On our way home I asked billy to take us to our spot. He shrugged off his jacket placing it around my shoulders sitting next to me. "Are you sure you're okay? We're almost home. We can come back here in a few days" He said pulling me closer to him. "I don't have that in me" I whispered laying my head on the crook of his neck crying. He gently rubbed my back letting out a shaky breath. "Billy, you have to promise me that when It's my time, you won't let your anger get the best of you. Go to college far away from your dad and meet someone, start a family. Follow your dreams. Wherever you are, know that I'll be there with you"

I looked up at him and he wasn't even trying to hide the fact that he was crying now. He leaned down pressing his lips to mine lingering there as our foreheads touched. "I love you. I love you so much." He muttered before kissing me again.

"I love you, too, Billy Hargrove." I said placing my head back on his shoulder, finally at peace.

356 notes · View notes

midnightphoenixdream · 5 years

Text

Just Like You

Hey everyone! fallenangelofhades/midnightphoenix dream here! So my original blog got terminated for whatever reason. I’m reposting all my prompts I had received from my fluff prompt post. I believe this one was from an anonymous user.

Summary: Prompt fic. Aizawa and All might in high school, and Aizawa is getting teased for being gay, Toshinori tries to cheer him up with cuddles Author's Note: Another prompt fill from tumblr! Alright so the title of this fic is the song title Just Like You by Louis Tomlinson. Louis is literally my favorite singer ever and I've been watching him since his X Factor days with One Direction. I tend to use his song titles in a lot of what I write. This song just seemed fitting for this scenario. Warnings: Bullying, Homophobic slurs, talks of suicide but not by Shouta, language, a pissed off Toshinori, Enji is suddenly... niceish?

Faggot. Queer. Homo. You're disgusting. You deserve to die. Just do everyone a favor and kill yourself. Every single word constantly rang through Shouta's head as he walked the halls of U.A. Recently, he had accidentally came out to his class when they were talking about one of the pro heroes who had recently come out. It had slipped out before he could even catch himself. Ever since then, it seemed like the entire school knew of his sexuality. Now every step he took was followed closely behind by verbal abuse of so called heroes to be. Even members of other classes had gotten involved. Support, General, Business. Apparently it didn't matter. He was only in his first year. He had three more years of this torment. He was still the same Shouta that they knew before he had came out but now it was a complete one eighty. He had been isolated. He was already close to being an outcast for his quirk but now he was an outcast. Only five people remained by his side. His fellow classmates and friends, Oboro Shirakumo and Hizashi Yamada and his friend from Class 2-B, Nemuri Kayama. Lastly, his own boyfriend Toshinori Yagi from Class 3-A. The only people who knew of his relationship with Toshinori were his friends. Toshinori wasn't technically out of the closest but he didn't really care. Toshinori didn't care about who he was in a relationship with as long as if he loved them. Toshinori was the sun of Shouta's life. His smile couldn't lighten up a room. His laugh was contageous to those around him. Some day, Toshinori was going to be the Number One hero. Shouta knew it in his gut. Shouta just hoped that he would still be by Toshinori's side by then. He hasn't exactly told Toshinori about him being a target of the constant teasing and bullying. Hizashi and Oboro did their best within Class 1-A to keep them down at bay but some of them still managed to sneak by. Nemuri had been trying everything to keep Class 2-B off of his back but it also failed ninety percent of the time. Thank god, it was lunch time. No one ever messed with him during lunch because Toshinori sat with them along with Enji Todoroki. Cause for some god forsaken their rivalry in class came out in lunch too. Oddly enough, Enji knew of Shouta's sexuality but didn't say anything. All the Hellflame user said was who cares. His reaction had shocked him the most. Enji Todoroki should have been at the head of the teasing but instead he just sat with them and glared at others who even sent a wrong look in Shouta's direction. It was strangely comforting. Enji happened to be very intimating. He was broader than Toshinori is but Toshinori had height on him. Shouta should of known his luck was running out. Toshinori, Hizashi, and Oboro were deep in conversation about god knows what three sunshine people talk about. Enji occassionally threw in a comment while Nemuri ate in silence while scrolling through social media. Shouta held his book in front of his tray as he also ate in silence. A noise escaped him as his book was ripped from his hands. He turned to look at the culprit but a gasp left him as he felt a liquid cover splash over his head and down his body. He quickly identified it as soda from the stickiness it left behind. The other occupants of the table jumped up from their spots but froze as the boy from Class 3-B, Hiroto Terasaka, leaned down until he was eye level with Shouta. "Fags don't belong in hero society. They would never accept you. Why don't you drop out and go sell yourself on the corner like the whore you are." One the boy stopped talking, he turned his tray upside down and onto Shouta's head. Shouta held out his hands in front of him as he looked down at his lap in shock. Tears prickled his eyes as the older boy's words tore through him. The lunch room broke out into laughter as the teen chackled at his work. A loud crash caused Shouta to look back up. Toshinori now stood in front of him and the now empty tray that belonged to Terasaka was in the floor. Shouta couldn't see the blonde's face but just by Toshinori's body language he could tell the elder was livid. The laughter in the cafeteria fell to a dead silence. Shock and disbelief came to the faces of the other students as they looked at Toshinori and Terasaka. Terasaka sank underneath the piercing gaze from the blonde. "What the fuck did you just say?" Toshinori growled. Tersaka smirked. "I told the stupid little fag to go to the job that would fit him best, of course. He is a little slut after all." The teen said. Shouta watched in awe as Toshinori grabbed the other third year by the front of his uniform and jerked him forward. "You disgust me. You're supposed to be becoming a hero and you are tearing him down. For what? Being gay?" Every word was laced in venom as Toshinori spoke. Tersaka physically shook in Toshinori's hold as he tried to wiggle away from Toshinori's grip. "He's a little faggot. He doesn't deserve to be a hero." Toshinori chuckled and released Tersaka. The other teen falling to his bottom on the floor and his eyes locked onto Toshinori. Shouta held his breath as Toshinori gazed over his shoulder to the Erasure quirk user. "Shouta, how long as this been going on. By the look on your face. This isn't the first time." Shouta swallowed the lump in his throat. The normally soft blue eyes were now cold as ice. A frown covering his face that normally held the smile that would make Shouta's heart skip a beat. "Since Frostbite came out. My classmates were arguing over a gay man being a hero and I accidentally came out too." Shouta whispered, his voice shaking. The anger on Toshinori's face only grew deeper. "That was two months ago, Shouta. Who has been doing this to you?" Toshinori's voice was deep, almost coming out as a growl. Shouta shook his head. At this point, he didn't even know who it was. There was at least three people from each class. "It's almost every class in each year, Yagi-senpai." Hizashi said, the Voice user knowing that Shouta wasn't going to talk. "We've managed to keep our class off for the most part, but they still find a way." Oboro added, his voice laced in regret. Toshinori looked away from Shouta, his glare settling on the other occupants of the room. "You should be ashamed of yourselves." Toshinori stated, his voice raising as he looked out at the other students. "You are making fun of, teasing, bullying, assaulting a fifteen year old because he just so happens to like the same sex?!" Toshinori scoffed. "Within this school is over a hundred students that hope to be heroes one day. From what I just got told, even the hero course is involved in this villainous act." The blonde shook his head, climbing up onto the table that he had been formerly sitting at. "You want to be heroes?! How can you even call yourself a hero in training if you are acting like a villain?" Shouta looked out at the other students, watching the remorse and guilt cover most of their faces. He looked up at his boyfriend and whispered, "Toshi, please. Just leave it alone." The blonde looked down on him. "Absolutely not." He said, looking back out to the others. "Shouta Aizawa will be a hero and he will do it whether you like it or not. He was born to be a hero. I watch him work his ass off every single day after school. He has so much heart in him that he didn't even tell me about this." A smile came to the blonde's face, his gaze softening. "If you want to tease someone for being gay, well you better start coming after me too." Murmurs filled the cafeteria as Toshinori spoke. "I've been dating Shouta Aizawa for six months now. I met him before he started at U.A. and from the moment I saw him... I knew he is the person I'm going to be spending the rest of my life with. So if you want to act like a villain, do it to me. I will have absolutely no problem putting you in your place." Shouta's eyes widened as he watched Enji completely stand up, climbing up onto the table next to Toshinori. "I'm not gay but Yagi's right. This isn't right. Aizawa did absolutely nothing to any of you. As far as I'm concerned, you are nothing but villains. I want to be a hero, and Shouta is Yagi's boyfriend. I will protect him the same way I strive to beat Yagi for the Number One spot." Enji stated, his voice booming through the room. Hizashi, Oboro, and Nemuri all stood up and taking a spot in front of the two third years. "You'll have to go through us too. I'm not going to play nice anymore." Oboro hissed. "Be a villain. You won't last long here." Nemuri said, her normal sweet voice coming out harsh. Hizashi added, "I can't believe this is what U.A. has come too." Toshinori looked to the others with a smile. "You see, we belong to U.A. High, a pretigous school for heroics. If you want to be a hero, stop acting like someone who is different from you is beneath you. That's not who a hero is. At this moment, I'm disgusted that I even know some of you people." Toshinori said, hopping down from the table and standing in front of Shouta. "C'mon, let's go get you cleaned up." The blonde muttered, holding out his hand. Shouta smiled softly as he reached out and placed his hand in Toshinori's. He allowed the blonde to guide him out of the cafeteria and to the men's locker rooms. Neither of them said a word as Toshinori helped Shouta get out of his soaked uniform. The blonde hummed softly as he turned on one of the showers and scrubbed the food and soda out of the ebony locks. Toshinori didn't care as the water splashed onto his uniform as he continued to rub soothing circles into Shouta's scalp. "Why didn't you tell me, Shouta?" Toshinori questioned softly. Shouta shrugged with a sniffle. "I guess I was scared too. I don't know why. I thought I could handle it. I never meant for you to come out when you didn't want too." Shouta whispered, his voice shaking. Toshinori sighed, placing his thumb underneath Shouta's chin and forcing him to look up at him. "Shou, I don't care if anyone knows I'm gay. I'm still the same person I was before. If they want to treat me different than that's on them. I would shout it to the world that I'm stupidly in love with you." Toshinori said, using his other thumb to wipe off a stray tear that found it's way down Shouta's cheek. "I can't yell like Yamada-kun can but I would do it any day. You mean the world to me." Shouta gave a watery smile and leaned forward, placing his head against Toshinori's shoulder. "Thank you." Toshinori smiled, reaching over and shutting off the tap before pulling away from Shouta to hand him a gym uniform. "Now, put that normal scowl on your face and let's get back out there." Shouta nodded with a new found confidence. "Okay." x School was out for the day and Shouta laid in his bed with Toshinori next to him. The older teen held Shouta close to him, drawing random shapes into his back as Shouta cuddled closer. The ebony haired teen felt tears come to his eyes as the words from the bullies came back to his mind. Would it change now that the number one student in U.A. came out as gay. The same student that everyone was rooting for to be the Number One Hero. Toshinori just pulled him closer. "Don't let them get to you, Shou. They are nothing compared to you." The blonde muttered, placing a soft kiss into Shouta's hair. Shouta sighed. "It still hurts." Toshinori rubbed his hands over Shouta's back. "I know, Shou. For now, let's just lay here and forget the world. Even for a moment." Shouta smiled as he cuddled further into Toshinori. He craned his neck so he could see Toshinori's face. "I love you, Toshi." "I love you too, Shouta." Toshinori smiled, leaning forward and kissing Shouta deeply. The warmth of Toshinori's body against his, the feel of his arms wrapped around him, maybe just being held. It made him feel better, knowing that he had Toshinori by his side. Just Toshinori's smile told him that everything was going to be okay.

#fallenangelofhades #midnightphoenixdream #erasermight #shouta aizawa #toshinori yagi #prompt fics #prompt fill #repost

8 notes · View notes