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lexosaurus · 4 months ago

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Everything Was White: Part 22

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read on: [ao3] [ffn] (please read tags)

Summary: After being accidentally revealed to the public and taken away by the government, Danny deals with the aftermath of his time with the GIW.

****

The holidays were strange, in a word.

Danny had never been a fan of Christmas, with his parents always too caught up in their work to get into the holiday spirit. And, sure, maybe some of that resentment over his parents doing the bare minimum or—on a few occasions—outright forgetting to celebrate Christmas had built up over the years.

Sue him.

But it was weird this year. As Christmas approached, Jack came home one day with a few bags full of decorations. He then spent the rest of the afternoon putting lights outside.

The Fenton house had never had holiday lights before. But Danny’s fear of his father finding a way to set the house on fire overrode his excitement about the lights.

Before he knew it, nutcrackers and green wreaths decorated the house. The next day, Jack came home with a tree, and the whole family was ordered to decorate it with him.

While they did have a tree most years, the last time they hung up ornaments as a family was…

Well, Danny didn’t remember when that was.

“Jazz, stop putting all the ornaments on the bottom branches,” Danny whined, batting her hand away as she attempted to put yet another ornament within the limited scope of Danny’s current reach. “That’s my territory.”

“Then hurry up, slowpoke!” she teased, nonetheless moving to a higher branch.

“So rude. Can’t believe you’re bullying me.”

“I moved it!”

“Mads?” Jack said, handing an ornament over to her.

Maddie had been quiet all evening. She wasn’t in her work jumpsuit either, and Danny wondered if she had spent the day at yet another meeting with their lawyer.

Curiosity was a sinister beast, and part of him wanted to ask his mom what else the lawyer could have possibly said. But considering the last conversation surrounding his zero protections against the Guys in White stalking him everywhere he went, maybe this wasn’t the time.

Jazz fiddled with the Christmas music, skipping over a particularly terrible cover of Feliz Navidad, before she plucked another ornament out of its box.

How depressing was it that Danny was sixteen years old and half of the ornaments they were hanging up were brand new?

“You’re all gonna love your gifts this year!” Jazz said brightly. “No spoilers, but I tried really hard!”

Maddie gave a weak smile. “I’m sure whatever you give will be great, honey.”

“Mine are gonna be bad. Sorry, online shopping only,” Danny said. “Also, I’m broke.”

That, and he’d forgotten that Christmas was—well—a thing.

Express shipping was truly a gift to humanity.

“It’s the thought that counts, Danno!” Jack said, putting that happy-dad mask back on his face. “That’s what I’ve always said!”

He had not always said that. His parents were typically too busy catching ghosts during the coldest months of the year to bother with the holiday season.

Which was fine. It was all just fine. Every family had different traditions, and Sam’s family didn’t even celebrate Christmas at all. But pretending this was suddenly a foundational holiday to the Fenton Family Tradition was ridiculous.

“No rest for the weary, son!” Jack said, placing another ornament in Danny’s lap.

“Sure, Dad.” Danny pushed himself back over to the lopsided tree.

Jack turned to Maddie. “Your crazy sister is coming up, right?”

“She’s not crazy, but yes.”

Jazz paused, her ornament dangling in the air. “Aunt Alicia’s coming?”

“Yes.” Maddie’s gaze flickered to Danny for the briefest moment before settling back on Jazz. “We felt bad we were too busy to get together for Thanksgiving, so we extended the offer for Christmas.”

Danny could translate that well enough: We were too afraid of our mentally unstable son to travel for Thanksgiving.

Dancing around the truth felt almost worse than his parents just openly admitting what a disappointment he was.

No, that was exactly the sort of negative thinking that would rouse suspicion. Not that he had anything to hide, of course. He was a model outpatient kid now.

They continued hanging up the holiday ornaments to the chorus of terrible Christmas tunes that had Jack and Jazz singing along and Danny trying to keep his ears from bleeding. Perfect pitch—or any kind of pitch, for that matter—clearly didn’t come in the Fenton genetic coding.

When they finished, Jack attached a green star on top and plugged the lights into the wall, turning their ornament-bloated tree into an LSD-induced fever dream.

But Danny still couldn’t get it out of his head that Alicia was coming here. Why wouldn’t they go down to Spittoon like they always did?

Maybe they were worried about his wheelchair? Which would have been even more of a reason to give Danny his powers back. Or, maybe because Alicia’s community was anti-ghost?

…yeah. Danny thought back to that old community of closed-off people. Them being anti-halfa was probably the most likely scenario.

His suspicions were more or less confirmed that evening as he floated invisibly in the hall, too lazy to use his wheelchair to go to the bathroom. Jazz, the only perceptive one in the house, was already asleep, so there was no fear of getting caught. The light was still on in his parents’ room, however. Their sleep schedules were almost as bad as Danny’s.

Danny pressed a hand to the bathroom door, about to slip through the wood, when he heard the unmistakable mutter of, “...Danny…” from their room.

His parents were talking about him. Again. If he were smart, he would have ignored it. He already knew what they truly thought about him. There was no need to ruin his night.

But, in fact, he was not smart. So he drifted closer till he was pressing an ear to the door and fighting the impulse to stick his head inside.

“...a good idea?” Jack was asking.

“She’s my sister, hon,” Maddie responded. “Besides, you know what the therapist said about isolating Danny.”

There was a sharp huff from Jack. “I know, Mads. I know she’s been concerned about those patterns reemerging, but it’s one thing to encourage Danny to connect with his classmates and another to invite Alicia into our house.”

“Whatever issues you two have—”

“This isn’t about me!” Jack hissed, clearly struggling to keep his voice down. “I’ve put up with all sorts of talk from her over the years. You’ve seen it! It’s not about me, it’s about our son.”

“She said she was willing to try.”

“Trying isn’t good enough, Mads. I know you two don’t see each other often, and I don’t want to keep you from her, but she can’t step one foot in this home if she’s going to even think about disrespecting Danny.”

There was a brief silence as Jack’s words hung in the air. Then, Danny heard the duvet on the bed shift, a heavy sigh accompanying it.

“I know.” Maddie’s voice was so quiet, Danny almost didn’t pick it up. “I’ll call her tomorrow, okay?”

“Thank you.”

“I love you, Jack.”

“I love you too.”

The light switched off, and their conversation was finished.

Danny stayed floating in the hallway for some time. So…Alicia hated him now. She thought he was a freak. She thought he was better off back with the Guys in White. And now she was coming here, staying overnight at their house. Perfect. Wonderful. Awesome.

Danny hoped he had enough painkillers to last through her stay.

****

Jazz was going to school early. She needed to do the winter orientation and get acclimated to the city. She was also doing some volunteer tutoring for the kids in the area and wanted to complete the training before the semester started.

Danny had known this. He was fine with it, Jazz, quit asking for his opinion about it.

It was like she thought he was a dandelion about to drift off with the slightest breeze. But he wasn’t.

He wasn’t.

He wasn’t some child who couldn’t exist without his "big sis" holding his hand. He was sixteen and had people like his therapists and his best friends to rely on. Of course, he hadn’t talked to his friends about Jazz leaving yet. And although his therapist had brought up the topic a few times now, they hadn’t really talked about it too deeply.

But that was only because there really wasn’t anything to say. Jazz was leaving, and that was that.

“You’re sure?” Jazz asked. “There’s really nothing?”

Nothing? Huh?

Right, there was nothing he wanted from her. Nothing he wanted to do with her. No bucket-list items. He’d already demanded too much from her. She even deferred an entire semester of her dream college because of him.

So why was she asking if there was anything he wanted to do with her before the holidays were over? Why was she wasting her time?

“I’m sure. Not like I can really get around easily, anyway.” Danny slumped back on the couch.

“Danny, I’m sure we can find some wheelchair-friendly things—”

“That—that’s not what I meant.” Despite his best efforts, he felt his face flush. Or, maybe it was partially what he meant. Who knew anymore, with the way his TBI liked to scramble all his thoughts? “I meant that—with the paparazzi…”

“Okay, then we can dress incognito!” Jazz said. “Come on, not even a trip to the movies? It would be fun!”

“You hate horror movies,” Danny pointed out.

“Did you forget about, oh, I don’t know, every single other genre of film out there? Would it kill you to switch it up for an hour?”

“Yes. It absolutely would.”

Jazz rolled her eyes. “Come on, Danny. For me?”

And there were those big eyes and clasped hands that had defeated Danny so many times before. Really, how was he supposed to say no to his sister when she pulled her trump card like this?

So unfair.

“Fine! Fine, you can dress me up in a stupid wig or whatever and we can go see one of your dumb movies before you leave. But if we get caught…”

“We won’t!” Jazz grabbed his arm, apparently too excited to contain herself.

She almost looked like the old Jazz, the Jazz that didn’t have to worry about her little brother staying out of the hospital.

Maybe focusing on other things would be good for her. Maybe it was time for her to get away. Maybe she needed this sense of normalcy again.

Maybe it was time to let her go.

Before Danny could ponder that thought any longer, the door swung open with enough force to nearly plow through the wall.

“Aunt Alicia!” Jazz scrambled from the couch. “Welcome!”

“Jazz!” Alicia stepped through the interior, her suitcase in hand. A green coat had been thrown over her overalls and plaid T-shirt, and she shed it as soon as she stepped through the threshold.

Jazz hugged her. “Good to see you! You haven’t changed a bit!”

It was true. No matter how old Alicia got, her red mullet and bulldog-like features stuck around.

“I can’t say the same about you!” Alicia pulled Jazz away, surveying her up and down with a grin. “Look at you, your hair’s so long now. And have you grown?”

“Not since I was like thirteen!”

Maddie peeked over their shoulders. “I can take your suitcase to the guest room.”

“Nonsense!” Alicia barked. “It hasn’t been that long since I’ve been here. I remember where it is just fine!”

“Don’t worry, Alicia,” Jack said, getting up from the couch. “Go catch up with the kids! I’ll bring your stuff upstairs.”

As usual, Alicia hesitated at Jack’s offer, looking him over as if he were three feet tall and made of fool’s gold.

“Thank you, Jack!” Maddie snatched the suitcase and coat from her sister’s arms and passed them off to Jack, who quickly disappeared upstairs. She ushered Alicia into the living room. “Come, sit. It was a long flight. Would you like anything to drink? We have both red and white wine somewhere in the cabinets—oh, the white hasn’t been chilled.”

Danny sat rigid on the couch, the cushions suddenly feeling hard underneath him. His brain registered a strange pressure on his thighs, and he glanced down to see his hands gripping his legs. He let go, allowing his arms to fall awkwardly to his sides, and when he looked back up, he saw how Alicia was slowly lowering herself onto an armchair, leering at him like he was some sort of alien at Area 51.

That wasn’t even a far-off comparison to make. He was the alien. Only, instead of being located in the desert, Area 51 was his damn living room.

“What would you like, Alicia?” Maddie called from the kitchen.

Alicia blinked. “Huh? Oh, whatever light beer you have is fine.”

“I’ll see what we have.”

Jazz hopped back on the couch next to Danny, stretching out like she did after returning home from a run. “How was the flight?”

“Long. It’s cold up here,” Alicia said, frowning at the window.

“It’s been a mild winter so far,” Jazz said.

“Mild to you, maybe. I haven’t been outside of Arkansas in…well, since the last time I was here, actually. When was that, six years ago?”

“Eight,” Danny said, his memory—usually so full of holes—surprising even himself. He stared at the ground, not wanting to see Alicia’s reaction to his alien voice. “I was eight. My dad tried to play Santa and—and fell on the tree.”

Silence lapsed in the room, and Danny risked glancing up to see Alicia’s inquisitive face once again turned on him, nodding slowly. “Right, I remember that.”

“Oh god, I’d forgotten!” Jazz laughed as if the air weren’t awkward enough to cut with a chainsaw. “Mom was so pissed!”

“Till I got the whiskey in her.” Alicia winked.

Winked.

Danny, thankfully, didn’t drop his jaw.

It…was okay? He wasn’t a disgusting little cockroach then, infesting this human home with his gross ecto-blood?

It was naive to hope that someone accepted him for what he was. He knew that. He’d been let down too many times in the past. But still, he couldn’t help it, the desperation leaking into him, lifting him up, straightening his spine. He couldn’t stop that pang of longing from stabbing through him.

And of course, it was stupid, because as soon as Danny’s wide eyes made contact with Alicia’s, a frown appeared back on her face.

Though, only momentarily, as it was broken by Maddie stepping into the living room a second later with a beer can in one hand and a glass of red wine in the other. “This alright?”

“Looks fine to me!” Alicia said.

“You’re all set!” Jack called, bounding down the stairs. “Oh, you ladies having drinks?”

“Of course we are!” Alicia said. “Jazz, you’re old enough, aren’t you?”

“I’m eighteen,” Jazz said.

“Plenty old enough! Maddie, get her a glass of something too.”

Maddie pursed her lips at Jazz.

“I’m going to college soon anyway, Mom,” Jazz pointed out.

Maddie sighed. “Fine, one glass.”

Jazz shot a smug smile at Danny, who was only a tiny bit jealous. Not that he could drink with all the medication he was on, anyway. But a glass of something to diffuse whatever tension he was causing through the horrible crime of existing sounded great.

Well, worst-case scenario, he always had the bottle of pills in his backpack. And it wasn’t like he hadn’t already taken something before this.

For the pain, of course.

“You excited for Harvard?” Alicia asked, snapping Danny from his rumination.

“So excited!” Jazz responded.

“Smart girl! I always knew you’d get there. I remember Maddie calling me all worried when you were applying, saying stuff about how hard it was to get into, and I told her not to worry one bit! I said that girl’s something special, she is. Smartest of the bunch! I said she’d show up every other applicant in the pool!”

“That she did! My Jazzypants kicked some major butt out there! We’re very proud of her,” Jack said.

Alicia only looked a little bitter that Jack had spoken to her before turning her attention back to her favorite niece. “Have you thought at all about what you want to study?”

“Psychology,” Jazz replied easily. “I got a five in AP Psych in high school.”

“That’s the top score,” Maddie explained.

Alicia beamed. “See, Maddie? They’re lucky to have such a bright young woman in their program!”

They were. They really were.

With Jazz now only weeks away from leaving, these conversations had become more and more commonplace with people they met. And Danny was happy for Jazz, and he was a little glad that the spotlight wasn’t on him all the time, but with each new mention of Jazz leaving came a new realization that Jazz was leaving.

“They are definitely,” Maddie said. Glancing at Danny, she added, “We’re very proud of both of our kids. They’ve both worked so hard this year.”

Oh, no.

Now Alicia’s attention was fully back on him. Back on his oversized sweatshirt, his plain sweatpants, his mussed-up hair that he couldn’t remember if he’d combed that morning. He felt just like when Plasmius assessed him for the first time. Tiny, like an ant being crushed under the overwhelming force of a large boot.

Just from the way her eyes squinted as she surveyed him up and down, Danny could tell that she didn’t know if she wanted to give him a fake positive answer or spit in his face. And with every microsecond she continued her internal assessment, he felt the weight of her metaphorical boot crushing him further and further into the ground.

“Yup, Danno’s been getting those grades up!” Jack carried on, his commentary doing little to settle the atmosphere. “He’s got a real knack for science, too!”

Hardly.

And, judging by Alicia’s narrowing eyes, she was certainly thinking of a different kind of science anyway. The kind that involved strapping ghosts to lab tables and cutting them open.

Still, he tried his best to go with it. “Well, when you live with my parents, it’s hard not to pick up a thing or two along the—um, way…”

Oh no. He had definitely made it worse.

Okay, time to flip the script back onto the favorite kid. “But Jazz is really better at all that stuff. She was in AP Bio last year and aced it too.”

“I didn’t ace it, Danny.”

“A ninety-two is still acing it in my book.”

Jazz’s face was red, though Danny could see the glowing pride that she was currently trying to bury. “Well, college is going to be harder than a high school class, you know!”

“And—and Danny? You’re in school too?” Alicia spoke up.

Suddenly, Danny felt small all over again. “Oh—uh, yeah. I am.”

Only for half of the day, and not in any general education classroom. But saying that out loud would have been too embarrassing. It would have just proved to Alicia that the media was right and he wasn’t able to function like a normal teenager doing normal teenage things, like going to class.

“Danny’s been working very hard to catch up,” Maddie said, offering her most loving and supportive smile, which Danny was sure had to be an act. “Especially after everything, he’s really putting such great effort into his classes.”

“So…Danny…” Alicia tried, shifting her beer can from one hand to the other. She pursed her lips, and Danny wondered what words she could possibly be searching for before she opened her mouth and said, “What do you plan on doing after high school?”

It was such a banal question that Danny almost thought that Alicia was being genuine. But then her voice echoed in his head just once more, and Danny could hear the underlying tones of curiosity and…scorn?

Or was he reading too far into her?

“Um…” Danny shifted his gaze between Jazz and his parents. “Well…I’d like to—to work for NASA. I think.”

Alicia sucked her teeth. “NASA, huh? That’s certainly a reach. Doing what, exactly?”

Danny shrugged. He’d wanted to be an astronaut before all this. But now that he had more health conditions than he probably knew?

Yeah. Fat chance.

“I don’t know. I just like space. I know it’ll be difficult, but…”

“Are you kidding, son? All the space agencies will be bidding on having a kid like you work for them.” Jack raised his glass, grinning. “You know how much money it’ll save them to have an astronaut who doesn’t need a space suit?”

Danny winced at Jack’s brazen reference to his ghost half, but thankfully Alicia had done little more than quirk a brow.

“And Danny’s really handy at working our dad’s gadgets, too,” Jazz said. “I’ve been saying for years that he’d make an awesome mechanical engineer.”

“Yeah, well…” Danny rubbed the back of his neck. “We’ll see what happens.”

“But you do wanna go to college?” Alicia asked.

“I mean, I think so? Why?”

“Well, I would have assumed you would have wanted to keep doing that ghost-fighting Phantom business.”

Ah. So they were talking about this now.

Danny had never felt so put under a microscope in his life. He would take another round of paparazzi interrogation over whatever this was.

Was it hot in this room for anyone else? Or just him?

“I—I don’t—”

He caught Jazz’s eye, who thankfully came to his rescue. “Danny does that as a sort of community service. He doesn’t make any money off of it or anything.”

Alicia, for once, looked genuinely surprised. “No? Not even on your social media? I thought all you kids were making pocket money on social media nowadays.”

Danny had to suppress a guffaw. “Um, well, I couldn’t exactly link my bank account to my social media before all this went down. I—I guess I never really thought about that. I probably could now, but…I don’t—I don’t know. It’d feel wrong.”

“Huh, well I’ll be.” Alicia leaned back in her chair. “I’ll admit, kid, you certainly never cease to surprise me.”

He had no idea if he was supposed to thank her or be offended by that.

“As I said, we’re very proud of both of our kids,” Maddie said. She sipped her wine, giving a slight nod of approval to her sister as she did.

“The world is definitely changing. That’s for sure,” Alicia mused.

Danny let out a silent breath, supposing that was about as good as it would get from her. She was an old-fashioned woman from an old-fashioned community. Danny would almost certainly be second place to Jazz in this woman’s eyes for the rest of her life, but considering that he seemed to be lower than dirt to most of the public, Alicia not considering him the favorite was hardly the worst place to exist.

So long as she didn’t show up with a gun and try to kill him, Danny could take a dose of skeptical comments here and there from her.

****

As usual, Danny woke up on Christmas Day with a foreboding sense of dread coursing through his body.

Although, this year, he couldn’t figure out why. Surely, he had undergone far worse things this year than surviving Christmas. But still, he couldn’t help but let that old resentment linger. And when the realization that he’d need to get out of bed hit him, he was half-wondering if he should just feign ill to avoid his family for the rest of the day. His parents would almost certainly believe him, with his long list of medications he dutifully took every day. Though, Jazz would be able to tell he was bullshitting.

He had to get out of bed, it seemed. But he would let himself take a little white pill first…

When the pain in his chest lessened and his limbs felt light once again, Danny was finally able to take his first real breath today. Maybe everything would be okay, and they would eat good food together, and make good conversation, and everyone would be happy.

Yeah. That would be nice.

He grabbed his walker and headed downstairs. Soon, he would be using forearm crutches. He’d tried a pair out at his last PT appointment and was surprised at just how much more convenient they were than a walker. He hadn’t been able to use them without the support of two adults bracing him, sure, but even just the taste of a smaller walking device rather than the bulky wheelchair and walker that he was currently using was more than a little tantalizing.

If he mastered the crutches, he could go on stairs. He wouldn’t be living the rest of his life under the constraints of elevators and—heaven forbid—stairlifts.

He knew logically that there was nothing wrong with using those tools. Other people who needed stairlifts and elevators should use them judgment-free. But there was something wrong with him needing those things.

Because he was Phantom.

And that was the key difference.

Pride at the forefront of his mind, he abandoned his stairlift in favor of trudging down the stairs at a painfully slow pace. He knew Aunt Alicia was watching him out of the corner of her eye, and he hoped that she could see just how much he was trying. No matter how weak and helpless the Guys in White wanted him to be, he wasn’t.

“Danno!” his father called once he’d reached the bottom of the stairs. “He’s finally awake!”

A little more breathless than he wanted to show, Danny meekly turned around to see his father in a full Santa suit, fake beard and all.

“Merry Christmas!” Jack said.

Oh, that was right. His dad was his dad. “Merry Christmas.”

Jazz sauntered over to him and plopped a Santa hat atop his head.

“Hey!” Danny glared. He couldn’t risk letting go of his walker to bat the hat away.

Her eyes sparkled impishly in return. “Just passing along the festive spirit!”

“Hi, sweetie!” Maddie said. “Merry Christmas!”

“Ho, ho, ho! Look at all the presents that I—Santa—delivered to these good children!” Jack puffed out his chest and pointed toward the now sufficiently stocked Christmas tree.

“Oh my god, Dad.” Danny almost cringed to death. “You don’t have to—”

“Of course I do, sonny boy! It’s all about getting into the Christmas spirit! Ho, ho, ho!”

“I’m going to puke.”

“Hah!” Alicia barked a laugh, her cheeks rosy.

Danny eyed her eggnog suspiciously.

“Not much for the Santa stuff, huh, kid?”

“Not really,” Danny responded. “My parents never really did this stuff before, either.”

“There’s always time to start new traditions, honey!” Maddie responded, taking a sip of her eggnog as well. Like Alicia, her eyes seemed a little too bright for the morning.

His legs sufficiently shaking, Danny wasted no time in following his family over to the kitchen where a giant spread of food fit for a family of ten was waiting for him.

“Good timing, by the way! If you hadn’t come down soon, I would have come wake you up,” Maddie said, stowing his walker off to the side once he’d gotten settled in his chair. “Brunch is ready. Juice?”

“Sure.”

“God, it’s been ages since we’ve had a Christmas together. Hasn’t it, Mads?” Alicia asked.

“I know!” Maddie closed the cupboard, glass in hand, and opened the fridge for the orange juice carton. “Not since Dad was still around.”

“I miss that old geezer.”

“He was a good man!” Jack agreed.

For once, Alicia didn’t bite his head off for speaking to her directly, likely too under the influence to care. “I’ve been trying to figure out how he makes that smoked brisket, but I’ve never quite mastered it.”

“You’ve gotten pretty close!” Maddie said.

“Mads, you’re just saying that ‘cause you have the palate of a toddler,” Alicia ribbed. Lowering her voice, she said to Jazz, though loud enough for everyone to overhear anyway, “Your mother’s a lot of things, but a chef is not one of them. One time when we were teens, she damn near burned the house down making toast. Toast! Who the hell does that?”

Maddie laughed, placing the orange juice and this morning’s dose of medication in front of Danny.

“Our neighbor thought the house was gonna burn down and called 911! The fire department showed up and everything!” Alicia pounded the table with her fist, howling laughter overtaking her.

Everyone else was also in stitches. Everyone aside from Danny, that was, who was trying to down his meds as quickly as possible so as not to let Alicia get a glimpse of the cocktail of pills he’d been prescribed.

He’d only just gotten her as an ally. There was no need to remind her that he was actually a mutant freak.

“That was a long time ago!” Maddie countered through her chuckles. “I’ve improved since then!”

“Okay, that’s fair. Although, I still did most of the handiwork today.”

“You cooked all this?” Danny asked, eyeing the pans of quiche, cinnamon buns, and bacon.

He was so thankful that of all the things the government had ruined for him, the smell of bacon was not one of them.

“Most of it! Your mom helped me some.”

“Well, let’s not dillydally!” Jack ripped off his hat—taking the beard with it—and tucked it off to the side. “Dig in!”

For once, Danny actually let himself enjoy the meal. Perhaps it was the atmosphere, this new spark of energy that there hadn’t been before. The laughter constantly emanating from the table, the warm, inviting smells of good food, the rambunctious chatter popcorning off the walls of the kitchen. It had been so long since Danny had felt like his home was truly a home. But today, at this moment, he could genuinely feel some of that cold begin to thaw, and he could almost forget that his parents were designing a chip to control his core, that Alicia secretly hated his ghost half, that Jazz was going to leave him soon.

Almost.

But not quite.

The loud conversation made it hard for him to follow along sometimes. Especially under all the drugs, his brain had a habit of zoning out mid-conversation, and when he’d blink back into the chatter a moment later, he’d be missing some key information and would have to scramble to catch back up. His loose limbs helped the pain go away, but the dizzying side effects made him noticeably slow and clumsy with his fork. The first time his fork slipped through his fingers and fell onto his plate, he laughed it off with a comment about the Fenton Butterfingers Curse. The second time he dropped his fork? Well, that was a pattern.

One that he didn’t want Alicia to catch onto.

But that aside, the breakfast was good. It was wholesome. It was proof that they were really a family. A true, loving family. One that did family things like celebrate Christmas together.

At least, that was what he could pretend.

After they finished dishes, they opened gifts. He had actually tried—somewhat—with the little money he could scrape together this year. He’d long since understood that his parents loved their practical gifts, so he got his dad a pack of metal screws, and his mom a new pair of winter gloves. For Alicia, he got her some cleaning supplies for her gun collection.

For his sister, he managed to find a notebook with little green ghosts on the cover, and the excited hug she’d given him seemed genuine enough. That, along with the promise that she would use it in her psych class next semester.

“Only if—if you want,” Danny ducked his head.

“Of course I want, Danny!” Jazz playfully batted his shoulder. “Now, it’ll be like you’re right there with me every time I go to study!”

Danny tried his best to shove down the heat that threatened to overtake his cheeks. His sister could be such a dork when she wanted to be.

Although Danny wasn’t expecting much in return—his family had never really given big gifts before—his parents had genuinely left him speechless with theirs.

At first, it was because he had no idea what the gift was supposed to be.

“Press that button right there,” Jack said, pointing vaguely at the two small metal contraptions in Danny’s hands.

“Where?” Danny asked.

“Right on the side!” Jack said. “There’s a button on each of them.”

Danny felt around the sides of one of the sleek tubes for a button, and sure enough, when he pressed it, the tube expanded into a full-sized metal forearm crutch with black and green accents.

Danny couldn’t help but let his eyes widen as he expanded the next one too. “Oh, whoa. Wow.”

“We know you don’t have your ghost form back right now, hon, but when you do, you’re not going to want to carry around anything bulky when you switch back and forth,” Maddie explained. “We didn’t think the current crutch designs were compact enough, so we’ve been working on these ones for the past few weeks. You just press the button and they’ll collapse back into their tubes that you can shove in your backpack or store wherever you need.”

Danny turned the crutches around in his fingers, his brain already buzzing at all the opportunities this would give him. Now, he didn’t have to worry if his Phantom form got tired. He could just switch back. Well, as soon as he figured out how to use the crutches, that was. But he could go outside now! And if he got good enough, he could even use them at school!

The thought of not being half the height of his classmates anymore was enough for his lips to curl up in a smile. “Wow, thanks.” He looked up at his parents, not sure if he’d managed to suppress the green glint in his eyes, and not exactly caring either way. “This—this is going to change so much. Holy—wow. Thank you.”

His dad slapped a hand on his shoulder. “Course, son! Gotta make sure you’re all set up now, don’t we?”

The rest of the gifts were doled out, and though Danny had collapsed the crutches back into their tubes, he refused to let them part with his hands. They stayed curled in his fists until long after all the wrapping paper had been cleared from the floor, his dad took a break from the festivities to disappear into the basement, and his mom and aunt made their way into the kitchen to drink more eggnog and chat about the good old days.

The tree lights gave the room a warm glow, warping around the ornaments and bubbling the walls with splashes of yellow. It was cozy, and for maybe the first time in his life, Danny understood why people liked having Christmas trees in their homes.

“Hey, Danny?” Jazz asked.

Danny turned to see her eyes trained on the fake fire flickering on the television.

“What?” he asked.

“Are you gonna be okay? You know, when I go off to school?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Danny asked, but his voice didn’t have the bite he had intended.

Maybe it was the warmth in the room. Maybe it was his fatigue hitting him.

Maybe it was the odd guilt clawing in the pit of his stomach.

“I just…” Jazz huffed.

“Jazz, you need to go to school,” he said, cutting her off. “I’ll—I’m fine. Seriously.”

Jazz didn’t look convinced.

“I’m really happy you…you stayed. But I’m healing, I got Mom and Dad and my friends. I have the—the therapists. You know? I—I’ll be fine.”

Jazz nodded slowly.

But Danny could still see the fear in her eyes.

“Why?” he asked, turning it back on her.

“I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t be bringing this up now, but I know you’re still holding back with…everything. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to bottle stuff up just because I won’t be around anymore.”

“I’m not bottling anything up,” Danny countered. At her look, he amended. “Okay, I’m bottling a few things up. But—but really, Jazz, the big stuff? I promise I’ve talked about. I’m just adjusting still.”

“You promise?” Jazz asked, her teal eyes wide with hope.

The nothingburger his lies had been now felt like a thousand pounds on his shoulders, but he knew that if he said no, then Jazz would never be able to be present at school. That she’d be too afraid to make close friends, commit to a club, or enjoy her new life because she would always have one hand on her phone waiting for a call from Maddie, or worse, the police.

So Danny put on the most reassuring, loving expression he could as he uttered the words that nailed the metaphorical coffin shut: “I promise.”

“Thank you.”

****

previous / next

****

Thank you to @imekitty and @astatia-ghast for the beta work! Also huge thank you to @bibliophilea for helping me get over my insane writer's block with this chapter. I owe y'all for real 🙏

#danny phantom #everything was white #fanfiction #my writing #angst #for those unfamiliar with this fic it is VERY dark so plz read the tags before u read the fic #im not messing around with this one lol

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seven-meds · 3 months ago

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A few interesting Letters to the Editor published in various adult magazines between the 50s and the 90s. Transcripts and sources below:

1: Future Sex (Issue 6, March 1994)

I love your magazine. The articles are well-written, and it's refreshing to see adjectives other than the words "throbbing" and "turgid" being used. Bless you and your thesaurus as well.

I particularly enjoyed Kim Teevan's essay, "Self-Service" (Issue 4), but some of the terminology was used improperly. One woman commented on the power of her 12volt vibrator being powerful enough to bore her with men. Well, that may or may not be true, but it's not voltage that determines the output power of vibrators. (I am an electrician by trade so I'm quite familiar with how vibrators work.)

The "vibes" or "pulses" that come from a vibrator are dependent on its rate of electrical cycles, expressed in hertz. A really good vibrator will have a "rate of fire" of about 60-180 pulses per minute. That translates to about

1-3 hertz. Other good rates lie in the 3003,000 pulses per second range. If this sounds a little fast, don't worry about it. Three hundred to 3,000 hertz is the average frequency of the human speaking voice. It's a nifty little vibration but it doesn't carry as far as the electrically generated vibrations due to limitations in the body's ability to maintain a sustained tone.

If I can make a personal recommendation to heavy vibrator users, you can get about a 40% increase in output power on your vibrators by bypassing the resistors that send power into the vibrator itself. Just solder a little wire around them and you'll soon be able to come so hard you'll shatter windows all up and down your block.

Charles Harris San Francisco , CA

2: Night and Day (November 1952)

Dear Sir:

It's wonderful to pick up your magazine a letter from a fellow uniped such as Beth O. I, too, think it is about time we were being heard from. 1 am 27 years old, blonde and not bad looking at all. I lost my left leg at mid thigh in an automobile wreck. Also I have never been able to wear an artificial limb. I use one special crutch, and my boy friend says I get about as well as a girl with two legs. I wear a 6B shoe and would like to swap with any girl that wears that size. Maybe Beth O. wears that size.

I have been walking on crutches for over ten years, I play tennis, dance and bowl. Can anyone top that? I don't believe there is a one-legged girl in the world that can get about better on crutchés than me. I challenge all comers. It is quite a nuisance being one-minus, but as Beth said, it has its compensations. I haven’t bought any hose in years as my friends give me all their odd stockings. I am waiting with bated breath for your picture spread of us one-legged girls — might even send in one of mine if I can find a good one.

E.C. CONCORD, N. C.

3: Eqqus Eroticus (Spring 1997)

Dear Sir,

I’m a middle aged white male living in the Cleveland, Ohio area. I took an early retirement from the Federal Government over a year ago. But I stay in good physical condition by doing my exercises such as walking, bike riding and playing golf. So I can keep up with if not ahead of just about everyone my age and usually guys who are years younger.

I want to be a cart pony and I could be a cart pony, if only I knew of someone who could train me.

I have almost always been in control. I usually am in charge of what¬ ever I am involved in. At work, I was always the boss. Usually when I joined any club and social activities at some point I became the leader. That may sound great, but it is not easy being the one who has to make the decisions, to be the person people wait to hear from, to always be the responsible one.

Through it all or maybe because of it all, I have always had a suppressed interest in bondage. To “be” in bondage, that is. To be tied strapped, shackled or whatever into complete submission. But there was no one who could or would control me, and I still yearn for bondage. I want to know at the deepest level what it is like to be controlled, forced to respond to any whim of the person who controls me.

In my spare time I found a newsgroup that had all kinds of photos of people in bondage. What attracted my interest most was the pony girls, especially the cart ponies. They were totally controlled, physically and mentally. They weren’t just in bondage; they weren’t held in one position. They were forced to behave and obey just as their masters or trainers instructed them. They were in body harnesses, stiff high collars, with a bit in their mouths, and harnesses holding their heads just right. You might see them in a corral, practicing their gait. They might be shown in a stall, chained to a wall by their neck or ankle or pulling a cart with the whip ready to give them extra incentive to obey. They were always total slaves with no will or choice.

I want to be the one who is being trained as cart pony boy. Held by my reins in a stable or my bit secured above me, holding me straight as my trainer works on my gait. To know that the littlest mistake would be rewarded with a crack or two of the whip. A whip crack I have yet to feel. Taught patience by being left chained naked in my stall, to wait for whatever would come next. I even long to be the one locked to the cart, my head held high by collar and head harness, reins telling me where to go, proudly pulling my trainer. To know that when the trip was done I‘d be back secured in my stall, left alone to await my trainer’s next pleasure.

I’m not interested in appearing in public, or being in competition. I just want to experience what it is to live the training of a cart pony. Maybe out there somewhere is a trainer who would give me what I am looking for. I want this experience so much and I would be forever grateful. I’d prefer female, but since sex isn’t the object, a male would be acceptable. If there is anyone who would train me, they can reach me at my e-mail address shown below. Please help me fulfill my desires.

PonySlaveX@aol. com

4: Eroticon (Fall 1980)

Dear friends of Eroticon,

I read porno magazines secretly, because my husband would not like having such “dirty” things in the house. Couldn’t you show more close ups of the male models muscular buttocks? I also would like to see cocks being soft and nice before the erection. I would really love that!

Finally! A lady with desire. We shall try to get some of the models to overcome their vanity and show “him” in a relaxed state. I definitely agree with you — not only womens asses are tempting.

5: Divinity 7 (1994)

I am enclosing a cutting from the DAILY TELEGRAPH of the 8th September. This indicated the flogging of a bishop.

There are no details and I would be very interested to know more about it, there is no doubt that it was a severe thrashing, but the culprit did not need to have hospital treatment afterwards, and he was fit to sit and walk next day, therefore no real injury.

I think that many of us would like to have details, such as how was he dressed for the flogging, did he have pants and shirt on? Was he standing or laying down?

It would also be interesting to know the conditions for flogging in other countries like Pakistan, Arabia and Turkey, with descriptions of the faults for which one can be flogged.

A photo or two would be interesting or better still a video of an actual flogging in public or in private.

This being an item siutable [sic] for the DAILY TELEGRAPH, and the true record of a news event I would think that a video or photos would be quite OK and legal imports, am I right?

As you are In touch and a publisher, I would like to hear from you on this subject, you may already have information or know of videos available.

Douglas Finlayson Essex

6: Transformation (Issue 6, 1994)

Dear TRANSFORMATION,

| recently picked up your Magazine #2...it’s great! | like what I’ve read in your magazine, especially a story titled “Dominant Lady Turns Boyfriend into Crystal” on page 10. | have this fantasy...about a dominant lady dentist who has a thing about a trampy TV, and fetish PVC or latex clothing.

Sometimes | am the patient, all dressed in shiny PVC. Other times I’m the nurse, in a white PVC uniform, long blond hair and a shiny nurse’s cap. The dental equipment is an old belt-driven drill and a sit-up chair.

If possible, I'd like to get in touch with Karyn R. and Crystal. But anyone...please write me!

K. Johnson

7: High Heels (Vol. 2 No. 7, 1965)

Dear High Heels.

I would like to see more pictures of handicapped girls in high-heels... I am enclosing some of mine, showing my 6" heel—some also show my peg. I have other pictures showing me in 7" heels...

Thank You,

U.N.A.

#On fetishism

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theblueflower05 · 2 years ago

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Part Two. Eclipse

Summary: After a heated argument with Lo’ak, Y/N and Kiri embark on a life threatening adventure. Neteyam races against time to save them.

Word count: 6k+

Warning: Violence. A little blood & gore but just a lil bit. Descriptions of parental pressure that may be triggering.

When my heart just burst like a glass balloon,

I let it fly too high and it shattered to soon.

I was the wrong damn girl in the wrong damn room.

I broke my glass balloon. I let go of my glass balloon

- Hermit the frog, Marina.

The forests of Pandora are never still.

They're always bustling with life, in constant movement. Dancing. Breathing. A fan lizard makes its way across the overgrown flora, slow and steady. Unassuming-

“You snooze you lose”

A loud screech followed by a chorus of giggles echos through the trees.

The poor fan lizard never had a chance, is knocked clear off its path as four pre-teens , a tornado of movement and sound, fly by. Swinging from branch to branch without a care in the world, the poor creature erupts into a spinning rainbow right before colliding with the moss covered floor.

No matter, nothing matters as the four of you make your escape from the village as you so often do.

Kiri hot on your tail, Lo’ak at the helm. Spider swinging from vine to vine, holding his own despite his much smaller frame. The vivid cobalt stripes that you’d painted on him days prior still stained his skin.

The trees lessen and then thin out as Hell’s Gate comes into view.

The fortress is big, and ugly. All concrete and overgrown plants. The last remnant of the sky peoples bases, it had definitely seen better days. Since it had been abandoned over a decade ago and left to the few trusted humans it had kind of gone to shit. Scientists are great at discovering, exploring. Maintenance? Not so much.

“Wanna play some ball?” Lo’ak asks as he makes a beeline for the basketball courts. You love humans strange games, they’re useless- but their fun. Just your cup of tea.

“No, I’m gonna go check on mom” Kiri’s already leagues forward, headed towards the entrance. Barely paying any attention to her brother.

“Awe come on- it’s not like she’s not gonna still be there later. Plus we know that Norm’s keeping her plenty company” Lo’ak and Spider giggle at his jab and Kiri throws a glare over her shoulder.

Your teeth dig into your tongue as you fight to keep the smile off of your face shrugging before heading in after her.

“Not you too Y/N. Man, you guys suck. Who’s gonna play with me?”

“I'm right here, cuz” Spider exclaimed, huffing up in exasperation.

Their height difference is laughable.

The Avatar designed basketball to big to fit in Spiders hands, the last time the four of you had played he’d taken it straight to the face, his nose so broken that it never really healed right. The entire court looked like a crime scene and Max had scolded all of you.

You had to remember Spider’s human body, and it’s limits, even if he didnt want you too.

The smaller human steals the culprit of a ball from Lo’ak’s grasp and begins to dribble circles around him and Lo’ak as always, defies any kind of predestined rules.

The labs are a familiar alien. All beeping neon buttons and sterile white surfaces. Monitors filled with images you don't quite understand, no matter how many times they’re explained to you. Since the first time Kiri had brought you here, you’d been perplexed. An obsessed fascination. You liked learning new things, you liked chatting with the friendly humans.

And you liked visiting Grace.

Kiri’s mom is in one of the back corners. Submerged, a bio-tank holding her. Cradling her something like a womb. She looks peaceful, you assure your friend. Whatever dreams she’s stuck in must be good ones.

“Hi mom” Kiri whispers, her five fingered hand pressing gently against the glass. You watch her, let her run through the process of her carefully cultivated routine. She likes to talk to Grace, fill her in on everything that’s happened since the last visit.

You think she’d have a better chance of making connection a connection at the tree of souls but you keep that fact to yourself.

“Hi Grace” You place the bracelet that you’d made for her on the tank. “Kiri ate shit at the watering hole the other day. You would’ve thought it was hilarious”

And you never knew Grace, never would, but who wouldn't think Kiri faceplanting during wash day wasn't funny? If you were stuck in slumber, you’d want people to tell you jokes.

The scientists are cool, and you make your rounds. Handing out the little bracelets you’d made them. You’d just about gotten human measurements down, but they still did hang a little awkwardly off of their gangly wrists.

No matter. Doctor Kelsey is a Zoologist who had been good friends with Kiri’s mom, and had taken the initiative to teach you how to read.

Sky people letters were simple in composition, but confusing in structure. That doesn't stop you from keeping your nose buried in the books she offers. You like the vividly colored picture books better than the black and white chapter ones but to each their own.

“Hi Y/N” Doctor Kelsey greets, laughing as you reach into the cloth knapsack that you’d toted along, giving her back ‘The Lorax’, in exchange for another old semi tattered book from her library.

“How’d you like this one?” She chats as she digs through her collection

“It was very sad. They had no trees, no animals” You explain, a deep frown maring your features as you recount and retell the story you’d read. “This is how your planet is, no?”

You remember Jake telling a story about Earth. A dying star.

“Pretty much, the book was definitely supposed to be an analogy for Global Warming and mass consumption issues. Good job for picking up on that Y/N, you really have been excelling. I’m gonna give you something a little harder. If you have any issues with it, Kiri will help until you can come visit again”

She hands you a thicker book and you sound out the golden rod letters of the title.

“Pet-her pahn?”

“Peter Pan” She corrects good naturedly “I think you’ll like this one, it's about a boy that never wants to grow up”

“Are you sure you don’t want to give this to Lo’ak instead?” You deadpan and Doctor Kelsey lets out a peel of laughter.

She reads the first couple chapters out loud to you and Kiri before having to return to her work. You both listen, ears twitching with interest. You pack the fragile book safely into your knapsack before you leave.

----------

It’s nearing eclipse and you know you really should be getting home- instead you sit crossed legged on a step, your face twisted into a deep scowl.

You spend more time at Hell’s Gate than you should, your parents remind you of the fact often, but you love it here. You can make the trek home in your sleep.

Which is why you’re less worried about the waning sunlight. More concerned with the words that had just come out of Lo’ak’s mouth.

“You guys could never do it, and not even because you're girls. Ma’s a girl, lots of hunters are. You’re just wusses” He taunts, chest all puffed out.

He’d been like this, ego inflated to the nines since he’d come back from the mountains a few days ago, actually in flight this time. A wriggling yelping Ikran below him and air of self importance that he just couldn't seem to shake.

Scratch the fact that you and Kiri had just handed him his own ass at H.O.R.S.E.

“Didn't it take you like three times and a concussion to tame your ikran?” You sneer and Spider lets out a huff of a chuckle, coughing when Lo’ak side eyes him.

“It was only two-” He starts and Kiri shakes her head, cutting him off quick.

“It can't be hard if you were able to do it. I mean, think about the Tayrangi, in their clan even the children ride. It wouldn’t be that hard to go up to the mountains and claim one”

Somehow it ended up like this most days. Kiri and Lo’ak on opposing views. Bickering until your ears hurt. You and Spider innocent on lookers, casualties of war as you alternated whos allegiance to pledge. Well Spider did, even if Lo’ak was right on the money and Kiri was dead wrong you’d stand beside her.

“Yeah so? We aren't coast people. I bet you couldn't even make it up the mountain. You’d shit your pants before you even tried. What would you do Kiri? Try to hug your ikran into submission” His words are laced with condescending laughter.

You shouldn't take it so personally, Lo’ak can be a dick. He doesn't even mean to be most of the time.

But it hits a sensitive raw nerve in your chest, the same one that had been hammered endlessly for years. To be a hunter, you have to ride. To be a hunter, you have to train. To be a hunter, you have to want to be one, right? You can't run away from it at every turn…

“We’re gonna have to do it eventually” You grit out.

“Yeah, sure” he drawls out the ‘e’ “I think you should probably just stick to your beadworking. You know, things you’re actually good at”

In the blink of an eye Lo’ak is drenched in what remained of your banana fruit juice, you’d emptied the canteen right in his stupid face. He blinks in surprise, his mouth falling open, tail going ramrod straight

“You’re such a douchebag” You hiss. You don't completely know what that word means, but you’d heard the sky people throw it around a handful of times and knew that it was nothing good.

“You head straight for the forest without another word. Face hot and eyes stinging.

“Why would you say that?” Kiri glares at her younger brother who looks completely shocked, ears flat and mouth open.

“What? Tell her that she’s good at something? That’s the last time I try to be nice, shit. Grandmother just re-braided my hair” Lo’ak moans as he he rakes his hands down his face, over his chest and through his hair. He’s already sticky.

“Dont be so dense. That wasn't cool and you know it” She sighs, before following you.

“Girls are psychotic” Lo’ak laments, and Spider just shakes his head.

“Yeah, totally”

---------

The forest has already started to glow, the path home bioluminescent which just makes your furious steps even faster. You didn't want to get in trouble with your parents too. They already weren’t going too be thrilled about you ditching babysitting duty to go hang out at the ‘cursed place’

“Wait up!”

You huff and clear the jump between branches in a clean swoop of a jump.

“Come on! Dont be mad at me I didn't do anything!” Kiri exclaimes jumping after you and nearly running into your back as you stop dead, waiting.

“I'm not mad, okay. I'm just-” You shake your head with a sigh. Not wanting to speak the words in your head. “Come on, we need to get home”

“Its okay to be mad at Lo’ak. My dad is, like, all the time” Kiri tries to soothe as the two of you continue your route.

“I can't be mad at someone who was only telling the truth”

“That wasn't the truth. That was him trying to pacify himself over the fact that he didn't get it first try like Neteyam”

Your stomach flutters when Kiri mentions her eldest brother, as it always does. You ignore it like you always do.

Pushing on further, faster, until the twinkling warm lights of the village come into view. They’ve already started preparing for the night and you need to start preparing for the earful you’re about to get.

Your heartbeat goes tense and anxiety creeps up your spine, your tail flicking in rapid jerky motions.

Kiri doesn't pry, she never needs to. She lets you huff and puff and stomp all the way back home, knowing that you’ll spill.

You lean against the bark of the trunk, your arms crossing over your chest as you look at your friend. She stands in front of you, expectant but not forceful. Already knowing whats bothering you, you’d vented about this particular issue so many times in the past.

“At least he got it, eventually. Didn't get himself killed like so many have before him- Kiri I don't know how I'm ever supposed to do that. My parents-” you choke on the word parents, have to swallow up the word vomit “My mom wants me to start really focusing on training and I just-”

“Don't want to?” Kiri offers.

“Completely suck at it. Everyone keeps telling me that it’s gonna get easier, it's in my blood, but I’m not a warrior. I don’t feel it, you know. I just want to read my new book, and make a necklace with those stones we found at the river. And gossip with the girls'' You sigh because why can't it be so easy?

“I think you’d be a great village gossip, we should ask my father if he can make that your official title”

You laugh in spite of yourself and your soured mood “It’s not funny. I'm never going to be what they want me to be. There's no way I’m ever going to be able to tame an ikran. He’s right”

“You don't really think that”

“No I really do. Im pretty sure I’d break my neck trying. I fall of direhorses all the time”

“You can also hit a moving target with your eyes closed. You don't have to be good at all things, all the time Y/N. It’s impossible” She reaches out to pat your shoulder.

“Try telling my mom that '' You sigh, and bring your hands to face, covering your eyes as you talk “I just don't want to disappoint everybody when I’m not able to do it. When I’m not able to complete my Inknamaya and become this great warrior they keep talking about. They’ll all come up to watch me get eaten by my own ikran”

“Would it be easier if they weren't watching?” Kiri offers solutions.

Probably so, but she knows how your family is. You remind her of the fact.

“What if we tried without them…if you didn't feel like you needed to perform, maybe you wouldn't be so in your head the whole time?” Kiri always has the worst plans. Seriously. But this one tops the cake.

You pull your hands from your face to glare at her incredulously. “You’re not serious”

“Why not? Tayrangi kids do it while they’re still in diapers, they don't have any training for it- they know what to do in their hearts. The great mother guides them through it”

“Kiri. Absolutely not”

“Think about it, cause I have. Even before tonight with my stupid brother. Tsaheylu is sacred, we know how to make it from the moment we’re birthed. It doesnt need to be browbeaten into us, we don't have to do it everyone else's way. My mother made the bond with a palulukan! And my father with Taruk? Who taught them how to do that?”

You shake your head because she’s far too good at convincing herself that her asinine ideas aren't exactly that.

You’ve seen the way the forest interacts with her, you know how special she is…but this would certainly get you both killed. Thirteen is young to make the bond with an Ikran anyway. Even the highly skilled, trained and ready warriors have trouble with it.

You're shaking your head, arms back tightly crossed over your chest, about to go full older sister mode when there's a rustling in the nearest tree.

Two sets of ears twitch, focused on what's coming-

“Lo’ak? Kiri?- There you are!”

Neteyam swings in from above, lands gracefully on his feet in front of you.

His amber orbs scan quickly over you both, apprising and slightly annoyed and your stomach does its tell tale flutter. Having him so close, tall and looming never does good things to your weak, wanting heart.

“You do realize that you were supposed to be home hours ago- it's almost eclipse. Mom and dad are pissed, he would have come out himself if Norm hadn’t radioed in that you all we’re using Hell’s Gate as a playground again”

Neteyam sounds every bit his role. Future clan leader, semi disgruntled older brother.

“It's not even eclipse yet, there's still light” Kiri is reaching, it's all but dark out. “Right Y/N?”

“Right? We definitely had a quarter hour left at least, if anything we’re right on time” You nod, catching her line of bullshit and rolling with it.

Neteyam pinches the bridge of his nose. “Your parents are upset too Y/N. I wouldn't use that line with them if I was you”

The anxious flick of your tail comes back full force “Like really upset? Or just- a little bit?”

His deadpan face tells it all. “Where is Lo’ak?

Another shuffle in the trees, leaves and smaller branches swaying. Lo’ak appears, obviously behind. He doesn't land nearly as gracefully as Neteyam.

“I’m right here bro, chill out” Lo’ak’s eyes meet yours briefly and you huff, still upset clearly.

Your nose is high in the air as you turn away. If you had to get scolded, you’d do it with some kind of dignity- and he could fuck right off.

“What is all over you?” Neteyam questions his brother from behind you, plucking at his one of his younger brothers sticky braids.

----------

Its an accumulation of things, your mother tells you. She doesn't scream, but the tongue lashing is no less intense. No, if anything it's worse. You can't look her in the face.

Its an accumulation of things, she tells you. It’s your disregard of your duties, who would have watched your little sisters had an Aunt not volunteered to do what you should’ve. You are to watch over them while she’s partoling and you know that.

It’s your training, or lack thereof. You can't get better if you don't put in the effort. If you don't focus.

“It’s this streak of immaturity , Y/N. You are not a childling anymore. By the time I was your age I was helping feed our community, I had found myself within the people. I want that for you- and you disappoint me at every chance”

Your ears are plastered to the side of your head the entire time, your tail wrapped around your calf. You take it wordlessly, blinking furiously at the tears because you can. Not. Cry.

“Are we done?” You croak and your mother looks like she might cry herself. Instead she nods and you sprint as quickly as you can away. Only when she can't see your face do you let the tears roll fast and hot.

It's later in the night, laying with your family on your cot. Staring at the star filled sky that you recount your mothers words.

Disappoint me.

You disappoint me.

Somewhere, somehow, Kiri’s get mixed in.

What if we tried without them?

-----------

To tame an Ikran, you have to go where the Ikrans are.

This was known by all. You’d heard stories of how tedious the journey was, but as you make it yourself, you realize that all before you had minimized its nature.

You and Kiri had taken direhorses out in the early morning under the guise of foraging for berries that you had spotted a week before when visiting the lab. They hadn't been ready to pick then, somehow your Grandfather buys it. Sends you out with a kiss on the forehead.

You're glad your mother is out hunting, she wouldn't have been such an easy sell.

It was early, when you’d left. The sun just rising. Now it is high in the sky, shining brightly as the two of you ride as far down the path as you can go on horseback. The path is narrow and carved into the face of a steep cliff. Rocks crumble away, you soothe the gentle beast beneath you.

Kiri seems to be doing the same for you. Turning back to look at you every few minutes.

“How do you know where we’re going?” You’d questioned her when she’d offered to lead the way.

“I just know. Eywa will show us”

To anyone else that might have not been enough. You follow her eagerly.

The direhorses can only take you so far- before its time to climb.

And climb you do.

The two of you scale the floating mountains none too fast. Its treacherous unstable ground, the wind shifting the terrain with every breeze and you never quite feel like you have your sure footing.

You’d grown up in hometree. They say it isn't as large as the one that your parents grew up in, that the sky people destroyed, but it still towers high. You’d ridden on the back of your mothers ikran, you'd climbed to the top of lovers Peak to watch the great colors in the sky.

You were no stranger to heights, but as Kiri jumps, and latches on to a weak looking vine in mid air you hesitate. You stop for a moment, and look below you.

All you can see are clouds, misty and white. So high up that you can't even see the ground.

“Come on, Y/N!” she calls for you and you gulp. Breath through your nose and take the leap.

The journey is laborious, and feels like it lasts forever. By the time the two of you make it to the entrance of the mouth of the cave you are both covered in sweat, panting profusely. Your arm muscles scream at the intense treatment. You reach a hand out, sweeping through one of the waterfalls that seem to fall into nothing.

Rub the cool liquid on the back of your neck.

It was hell to get to, but the mountain of the Ikran is beautiful.

They fly in the hundreds here, screeching and circling each other in the sky, sweeping from mountain to mountain. Their breeding grounds lush with waterfalls and fungi.

Looking down, down through the gaps of clouds you can see the forest below. It looks so small and and far away. Your stomach lurches, you feel like you’re flying already.

“We made it. I can't believe we made it. Thank you great mother” Kiri whispers, her hands clutching her chest.

“Don't thank her quite yet, we still haven't gotten through the hard part” You remind her- because its there. Looming just out of sight.

There is only a moment to catch your bearings, before you settle in on what you came for.

“We can still go back” Kiri offers. She has to. You don't have to do this.

You shake your head. “No, we can't. We came all this way and I’m never climbing this mountain again”

It’s through one of the waterfalls, the sound of rushing water filling your ever twitching ears as you pay close attention to your footing on the narrow, slippery ledge. It’s white noise, the first peace you’d had since the start of your climb.

“How will we know if an Ikran chooses us?” one of your peers had asked during training and Jake had smiled. All to canine.

“It’ll try to kill you”

You fist the bolo rope you’d brough until the leather digs deep into your palm as they come into view. All of them, dozens. Ikrans of all colors and sizes are seated at what looks like a basking site. They slowly become aware of the outside intrusion, and then its eyes. So many of them. All focused on you and Kiri.

“How are we gonna do this?” You whisper to her, heart pounding in your throat. Adrenaline rushing protectively through your veins.

“I’m not sure yet” She replies very unhelpfully.. Of course It goes the way all things go with Kiri.

Strange.

She doesn't seem as scared as you are, she steps lightly around the winged creatures, whispering all the while. You’re glued to your spot, still not far from where you’d entered. You’d seen your friend do a number of weird things, unexplainable things. But this…was something else. She approaches an Ikran. And it doesn't try to kill her.

No, the mostly chartreuse creature cocks its head at her. Skittish and unsure. You’re too far away to hear what she's saying but Kiri keeps whispering. Talk to it, as one does a child. A smile on her face, her arm outstretched and welcoming.

“Kiri don’t!”

You’re trying to figure out how exactly you’re going to explain a missing arm to her family when she takes a hold of her que, and simple as anything, connect it to her ikrans.

The gasp you let out leaves your throat sore.

You’re confused. Cant believe your eyes. You’re still in disbelief when she takes flight, the green and silver of the wings sparking in the high alkaline sunshine. Kiri soars through the air- making a wide turn, and coming back to where you’re still rooted.

“How did you do that?!” Your voice breaks and your eyes are wide as saucers.

“I asked her if she wanted to be my friend!” Kiri hollers back. Completely serious. “You can do it Y/N! You’ve gotta, this is amazing! She yells “You’ve got this!”

And you want it, so badly.

You want to be in the air with her, you don't want to go back to the village riding her coat tails and reeking of defeat. You have to do this, you square your shoulders,

“I’ve got this!” You reply, even though you keep thinking about Lo’ak’s unconscious body on the back of Neytiri’s ikran the first time he’d tried this. He’d been knocked unconscious, head bloody and his mom had had to carry him home.

It is glaringly apparent as you take the steps that your friend had just made, that this is not going to go the same way for you.

Where the banshee’s seemed to be at peace with her being here on their territory they reacted completely differently as you approach. Wailing loudly, scattering. Hostile and ready to strike.

They didn't want to be your friend.

Everytime you get close, they take off, jumping ship. Taking to the skies.

Until one doesn't.

Perched on a rock, the creature looks at you with a sharp turquoise eye. Only one, the other is scared, disfigured from past battle. She’s huge and dark purple. So dark she looks shiny with it, the orange, green and magenta splotches on her skin give the appearance of an oil slick.

She’s nothing like the pretty, feminine ikrans you’d so admired growing up. She’s fierce and terrifying and for a moment you think that there's no way she’s choosing you.

“Oh shit” you hear Kiri, distantly.

The ikran opens her massive jaws and lets out a roar that shakes you to your core.

“It’ll try to kill you” Jake had answered the question. Training young hunters to the best of his ability “And you’ve gotta call their bluff”

You muster a fierce hiss, even though you feel anything but, and then its on.

Lightening quick, chaos ensues. A tangle of limbs and wings. You can't wrap your mind around what's happening, there’s no room for any other thoughts then make tsaheylu. You have to follow your body, trust it. But it's so hard when something three times your size is struggling against you, trying to take any chance it has to kill you.

“Make the bond!”

You get the bolo wrapped around its gnashing jaws and chalk it up to pure luck. In the next moment one of it’s wings expands violently, throwing you back. Luckily not straight over the edge, but against the rough rocky wall opposite.

Your head connects with a sickening thud.

Your world goes dark, the pain on the right side of your face excruciating and your ears ringing from the impact. Or is that Kiri screaming? You force yourself to collect your bearings, forcing up onto your knees. You can taste metallic in your mouth and your head feels too heavy for your neck to hold.

A flash of purple brings your eyes back to focus.

NO.

The ikran is going to take flight, her wings outstretched. She’s going to leave and you’re never going to have another chance. You’re going to have to ride back home bloody and defeated. A loser who never should’ve tried. You’re going to disappoint your family, again. You won't be able to bring this glory to them-

You didnt come this far to go back empty handed. You weren't going to get in trouble for nothing.

The ikran takes off disappearing over the edge.

And you jump off the cliff behind her.

-----------

Jake is making his rounds, there’s so many of them now a days. He checks in with Mo’at, runs perimeter. Takes account of his people, and wonders if the imposter syndrome will ever fade. Tuk is still just young enough that she sticks to his side like glue.

“Daddy, look at this!” “Daddy, what’s that!”

A part of him wishes all of his children were still 5 years old. Still thought he hung the stars just for them. Instead he barely knew where they were anymore. Teenagers are still teeangers no matter what planet they’re on.

He does mental intake- Neteyam would no doubt be leading training. Kiri off somewhere with Y/N, and Lo’ak was hunting with Neytiri so for once Jake didn't need to worry about him.

Everything was fine. Everything was great…so why did he have this gnawing feeling in his gut that it wasn't?

It’s okay, this is why he’d given his family coms, so that he could check in whenever he wanted to.

He touches base with Neytiri first, her and Lo’ak are fine and he better not mess up her shot again.

Then Neteyam, he’ll be on stand-bye if needed.

“Kiri, I need your six. Over” He’s met with dead silence. He tries again, and again only for the same result. And that’s not normal. Kiri, at this age, will usually reply with some sarcastic smart ass quip. Captain dad, she calls him.

She’s never gone radio silent. And Jake’s gut has never lead him astray. Something’s wrong.

Tuk is pulling on his hand, taking his ear off but he’s sinking into a place he knows all too well- he can't panic. His brains not hardwired for that, too many battlefields, too much experience.

“Neteyam? When was the last time you saw Kiri, over?”

The first place he looks for his daughter is with Y/N, the two are practically conjoined at this point. You aren't to be found at your hut, but your grandfather tells him that the two of you had gone gathering. Bubble berries, its their season but the timing doesn't match- if his daughter had left this morning, she’d be back by now.

Jake’s in full military mode, furiously barking out orders.

A search party needed to be dispersed. Now. He’s gathering his men when Vitany, your mother touches ground. She’s confused, and then she’s fearful. He can see his own emotions mirrored in her eyes. She’s a great warrior, one of his best. She’d fought beside him for the last decade. No fear, heart of a lion. That all tends to go out of the window the moment your child is involved.

“Ma’ Jake!”

As Neytiri and Lo’ak land, having raced home from hunting at the news- his wife looks much the same. Terrified, confused. Shooting off question after question, where can they be? Where do they start?.

He’s about to take flight- to follow the search party.

“Dad!” Its Neteyam, and along with him he’s toting Spider. A gentle but firm grip on the younger, smaller boy's shoulder.

“What’s going on? What is it?”

“You need to tell them what you told me” his eldest son urges the human boy “Right now”

Jake’s always felt for Spider. A kid misplaced forever on a planet not his own. With people who could never and would never see him as anything but an alien.

All eyes are on him.

“It was uh, it was like a week ago. When they came to visit Hell’s Gate. We all got into it about ikran riding and how Kiri and Y/N weren't cut out for it. Kiri said that she could do it a different way like the Tayrangi Clan did, and Y/N just got really pissed at Lo’ak and left-”

“Is this true?” Neytiri looks to Lo’ak who hangs his head. But nods in agreement.

“What are you saying?” Jake presses, because he needs a solid answer.

“I think that they might have gone into the mountains. To try and tame ikrans” Spider finishes and Neteyam lets go of his shoulder, his hand slightly shaking.

“No” Vitany gasps horrified. Her daughter isn't trained enough. What the human boy just spoke of is certain death, she's on the back of her own ikran within seconds, taking off as fast as she can.

Racing towards the breeding grounds. Neytiri is hot on her trail.

“Neteyam, I need you with me, let's go!” Jake calls for Bob, high pitched bird sounds, and the beast lands at his feet, ever loyal. Looking at him, Jake remembers just what it took to tame him-

“Not you” He bellows, already mid flight. Catches his youngest son gripping his reins. Lo’ak protests, his eyes watery as the weight of his actions weigh down heavily on him.

“Dad, please”

“You’ve done enough”

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

Neteyam spends most his life in flight, since he had passed his rite of taming Atanzaw(lightning) years ago, he never wanted to touch ground.

He felt most himself in the sky. Free, lost to the vastness of the wind. He’d take any hunting, scouting or perimeter control shifts he could get his hands on, as long as he could fly.

It's an unusual feeling, being on ikrab back and having his stomach tied into knots. Being so worried that he can barely breathe.

He has to keep his mind clear to keep Atanzaw flying straight, piercing through the clouds like a bullet. He can't imagine his sister mauled to death or her best friend thrown to her death. It is too much.

He let his guard down, he knew he needed to help keep a closer eye on his siblings when his mother was hunting and he let his fucking guard down.

Kiri and Y/N we’re always running off, but never far. He could always track one’s movement by the other’s. Keeping an eye on Y/N had become a part of his routine, and he’d slacked.

Y/N hadn’t shown up for training and he should’ve known something was wrong- but she’d been off all week. Upset at something that was none of his business to uncover. Overworking herself, walking away from friends that she’d usually spend her time chattering with.

Shit.

He’s better than this. He’s going to be Olo’ekteyan someday, how is he supposed to keep the people safe if he can't even keep his sister safe? He’s wallowing in could’ve, would’ve should’ve’s when he hears a scream.

Neteyam banks against the wind, using all his strength to pull himself and Atanzaw in the other direction. Towards the screams, towards where his sister and her friend we’re undoubtedly in imminent danger.

He doesn't get shocked much, and when he does, he’s always able to hide it. Able to handle it enough that no one even noticed.

His mouth hangs open and his ears point straight at the sight that greets him.

No longer is the sky filled with screams, but with girlish giggles. Yelps and ikran caterwauls.

Kiri and Y/N do barrel rolls around each other, in hysterics as they play in the clouds. Both of them sat atop their respective ikran- not dead. Not dying. But frolicking, like schoolgirls. Like they didn't just give the village a collective fucking stroke.

Neteyam is angry, furious even. But more so, he’s impressed. That combined with the shock is a potent mix in his system and he can help but let out an incredulous laugh. Somehow the two of you were not only alive, but flying, bareback. Had climbed the Hallelujah mountains alone, and tamed ikran.

You were both in so much fucking trouble.

A|N: Okay I know the story is lacking Neteyam right now, buttttt I just needed to get through with the set up. All of the rest of the chapters will be very Neteyam x Reader heavy.

Also- I read an article that said this is how Kiri bonded with her Ikran in the comics? And thought it was rad. I had to roll with it.

Please comment and tell me what you think! And what you wanna see in future parts! More interaction will always mean quicker updates.

#neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam sully #aged up neteyam #kiri #kiri avatar #kiri sully

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dustedmagazine · 2 months ago

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Listed: Amy Rigby

Photo by Bert Eke

The singer-songwriter Amy Rigby got her start in the late 1980s and early 1990s in spry, New York-based country throwback groups Last Roundup and The Shams. Starting with 1996’s Diary of a Mod Housewife, Rigby has steadily released solo work that can break your heart with the contagious ache in her dry, distinctive voice or make you laugh out loud at the concussive put-downs she doles out. Rigby has a particular knack for turning the quotidian mythic and reminding us that the mythologized are ultimately just some guys. The music has remained rooted in country, but not confined by it. Hers is a guitar-forward style that can incorporate the bright highs of acoustic pop rock, crunchy roadhouse grooves, R&B, and even jazz. Alex Johnson, in his review of Rigby’s most recent release, Hang In There With Me, called the album “tough, witty rock and roll…[that] catalogs a lifetime of drags, uncertainties and disasters, but returns, again and again, to the people, moments and experiences that make it worthwhile, or bearable enough.”

Here are some things that Rigby has been listening to lately.

Warmduscher — “Eight Minute Machines”

Discovered via an online review of their Brooklyn show last year, one that made me want so badly to be sweating in a crowd with this band onstage.

Amelia White — “Get To The Show”

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One of my Nashville pals and I love this track from her latest album. Amelia is always out working and rocking, written with the great Gwil Owen… Sometimes I really do miss Nashville!

Daniel Romano — “Impossible Green”

You know when you discover an artist and think wow, this kid’ll go far, then realize they’ve been at it for years, made tons of records, play all the instruments, write, sing and tour their ass off? That’s how it is for me with Daniel Romano. This track comes from his 2017 album Modern Pressure.

Gina Birch — I Play My Bass Loud

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Gina’s debut solo album came out just a year ago — I’ve been a fan since hearing the Raincoats in the late 1970s and getting to see them live when they came to NYC back then. She’s one of my heroines for being an artist and uniquely herself in whatever it is she does — music, video, painting. The bass and her opening line: “Sometimes I wake up, and I wonder — what is my job?” Pure Gina/genius!

Wreckless Eric — Inside The Majestic

He’s my husband and labelmate so what the hell — this is from his most recent album Leisureland. People know Eric for his voice and lyrics and guitar, but this is an instrumental track that’s just glorious. I want to see the movie it soundtracks, or at very least a choreographed dance routine with Eric at the piano in a tuxedo.

Michele Stodardt — “These Bones”

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A big attraction for me with the Magic Numbers was Michele Stodart’s bass playing and cool vocal contributions, love hearing and seeing her do her solo thing.

Meshell Ndgeocello — The Omnichord Real Book

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For the last dozen years, I was bartending/selling books at a small shop in New York’s Hudson Valley. The first time Meshell came in I was tongue-tied, knowing her as a bass playing legend and poet, and thought if she lives here, it’s kind of the center of the universe, right? I really hope to see her play live sometime.

TBHQ — “Planet of Pain” from TBHQ

A radio host on a show I guested on was playing this great track when I walked in. “I really like that,” I thought, and then realized it was my daughter Hazel Rigby who records under the name TBHQ. She’s been performing and recording for years, often instrumental/noise but her voice and lyrics are so wise and honest.

Dory Previn — “The Comedian”

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There’s never been anyone like Dory Previn, the pain and ridiculousness of being a human so acutely depicted in song. There’s a new documentary about her, On My Way To Where, by my friend Julia Greenberg with animated segments by Emily Hubley, just making its debut out there. She had a fascinating, fruitful, difficult beautifully productive life and I can’t wait to learn more about her.

Mary Timony — “Dominoes” from Untame The Tiger

Love everything about Mary Timony’s latest solo album Untame the Tiger — the songs, the guitar playing, her voice, the cover!

Swamp Dogg — “Synthetic World”

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One of my favorite tracks of all time. Jerry Williams (Swamp Dogg) is still out bringing his music to the people. I’m looking forward to seeing the new documentary Swamp Dogg Gets His Pool Painted — there’s just nobody like this guy.

#dusted magazine #listed #amy rigby #warmduscher #amelia white #daniel romano #gina birch #wreckless eric #michele stodardt #meshell ndgeocello #TBHQ #dory previn #mary timony #swamp dogg

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that-one-weird-simp · 1 year ago

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GARGOYLE AU Hashira

nsfw be warned Demons

Gyomei: big curved ram horns big feathery wings but have little bits of concerete on them. this mother fucker is about 8 feet tall so that means big wings, like a 200 foot wingspan or more his tail is a spiked flail and an axe under it he has gey and black fluff along his tail and limbs Dick sized: 12 inches, medium thickness near the tip and it is thicker at the base passive unless provoked Liquide plasma: a grey hue that will turn you to stone from the outside in (horrible way to die) mateing dance: will puff out his massive muscular chest and rattle his wings while making a soft hissing sound gargoyle: will copy and press heads like a cat would human: shows signs of approval Kyojuro: he has the asian dragon horns wings are a mixture of feathered and bat like. the tips have red and orange as the rest is yellow to match his hair fluff all along his limbs and tail he has a flame at the tip of his tail, (lt is literally a flame chilling at the tip) but its harmless unless he makes it hotter, he keeps it cool most of the time unless he needs to fight wingspan: 48 ft Dick size: the same size as enmus, (im sorry, but Enmu and kyojuro have a bigger pp then akaza sorry my guy) medium thickness from the base to the tip Liquid plasma: it is a very bright orange with flames that drip off it and will burn through your skin to the bone mateing dance: Whatever this is (toothless u tried lmao) agressive and possesive

Tengen: horns are curved at the base the point straight outward Wings are feathery and full of flashy reds and white Scales along his limbs and tail, some scales are very shiny to attract mates (like his 3 wives) his tail feathers mimics that of a peacock, but the markings are the one on his face. wingspan: 57 ft dick size: 9 inches larg thickness to medium near the tip Liquid plasma: its not even plasma its basically what urogi has but will leave you permanently def mate dance: will sit down and spread his wings and raise his tail high and start to purr as he rattles his wings and slowly sways his wings from side to side gargoyle: will copy and purr human: will pet head and aprrove height: 7'4

Obanai: White bat like wings with black tips tail is a snack that has a half a mind of its own height: 6'4 he has snake fangs that can release a very acidic poison that will kill if hit in a vital spot white scales along his limbs and tail, black scales litter the top of his tail and are formed like stripes dick size: same size as tengens just thinner Wing span: 48 ft Eyes are snake like and can see outta both of them perfectly fine but he can activate heat vision by covering his eyes with a thin layer of membrane very aggressive and possessive mating dance: will go in a wyvern position and bow his head while hissing softly gargoyle: purrs and rattles wings then a small kiss on the cheek human: pets his head and kiss em liquid plasma: he just spits his venom at ya

Sanemi: White feathered wings white and grey scales along his limbs and tail the feathers at the tip of his tail are a massive circle to help with his movements in the air and make really aggressive gusts of wind horns curve back with rigid edges wing span: same as muzans (him and muzan are Connally the same size and weight) aggressive and possessive mate dance: spreads his wings and flair his tail on all fours while doing alot good foot work and small hops gargoyle: attempts to join but just sits there purring human: waits till he is done then hugs him dick size: my dude is the same size as muzan... liquid plasma: he doesn't have any he just makes really big gust oh wind depending on how much air he inhales

Muichiro and yuichiro: No nsfw for them cause they minors yuichiro: aggressive juvenile has black bat like wings wing size is not official since he is still growing curved ram horns has black fluff along his tail and limbs the tips of his fingers and tail are a light blue color his tail has Patagium (you know like a dragon tail) that takes the shape of a oak tree leaf Muichiro: playful juvenile curved ram horns wings are feathers with teal tipped feathers black fluff along his limbs and tail there is a long teal stripe on the top of his tail and has teal tipped fingers tail is like yuichiro but with feathers wing size is not official since he is still growing liquid plasma (for both): its actually very mist like and it will burn like acid

Mitsuri: straight horns pointed outward pink dove wings with green tipped feathers fluff along her tail and limbs pink with green tip feathers in the shape of a heart at the end of her tail mating: will copy the mail gargoyles dance and do as the following with each gargoyle i listed for human she would try and impress him and be unintentionally cute that you give her cuddles and all the love she needs swing size: (since she has a high muscle density and she must be heavy imma say close to gyomei) Liquid plasma: very pink and will literally make the opponent die of a broken heart breast covered with some fluff she sheds off

Shinobu: Her horns are really just butterfly Antenna She also has her hair down Feathered wings Butterfly shape feathers at the end of her tail She has light purple fluff that fades to black on her limbs and tail The feathers on her wings fade to a light blue at the tips Wing size: same as obanai Liquid plasma: wisteria purple and works as poison ( don't let it touch any open scars or wound or ingest it it will kill you) Mateing: follows the male and does so as listed with each gargoyle Human: like mitsuri and gets alot of kisses breast are covered with some sort of cloth or something that matches there style

Tomioka: his horns are really just the spinal fins of a lion fish but split

(like that with the lion fish spinal fins) there a really nice ocean lue color his wings are just an over sized flying fish fins. but with some very pretty markings on them. his scales along his tail and limbs are a dark ocean blue and are very shiny when wet he also has gills that are covered in scales he has some scales along his face (like under his eyes and on his fish) he can go in brackish (fresh and salt mixed) salt and fresh water, and pool water.. basically any water lol the fins at the end of his tail are long and fancy like a betta fish

that fish tail is at the end of it but its blue colored liquid plasma: light blue, and it deprives the air in your lungs and you feel like your drowning in water dick size: bigger then sanemi (kinda wanna draw giyuu know) mate dance: will circle you while swinging his massive tail fin like ripples in the water and fluttering his wings on all fours. Gargoyle: purr and rub there body against him human: give him pets and head scratchies passive unless provoked

Yoriichi: the picture describes him dick size: as big as kokushibo his wing span is the same as kokushibos he has fluff along his limbs and tail passive unless provoked liquid plasma: like rengokus but it burns like the sun and is really the color of his flames in the anime mate dance: this gargoyle: both on all fours human: on two legs while holding your hand and purring passive unless provoked

Tanjiro and nezuko: Both minors no nsfw both have fluff along there limbs and tail feathered wings, Tanjiros' wings and fur are a burnet color with black tips on his feathers. both have one horn nezuko has black fur along her limbs and tail, wings and fingers are tipped with the orange like the ends of her hair. she has some feathers covering her boobs and NO NO areas (like the other females) both are juvenile and very playful liquid plasma: same as yoriichi's for tanjiro pink and acts like kyojuros flames for nezuko

Zenitsu and inosuke: Both minors no nsfw inosuke has fluff, zenitsu has metal based scales to attract lightning zenitsu's horns are yellow with dark yellow tips, and metal based, there his main source of attracting lightning. he has yellow scales along his limbs and tail he doesn't have liquid plasma he has lightning beams.. there is a lightning bolt at the end oh his tail he can use for hand an hand combat inosuke has navy blue fluff with feathered wings tipped with light blue he does not have horns, he has boar tusks that are really sharp he has razor sharp claws and he has metal tipped feathers at the end of his tail. he also doesn't have plasma he can just scream loud enough to burst your ear drums

Haganezuka: black fluff along his limbs and tail his horns are like akaza's he has bat wings dick size: bigger then akaza's :] medium thickness at the base but thins out near the tip aggressive and possessive his liquid plasma is not really plasma.. but really hot melted metal.. you would be burned severly and would have a painful metal body part :3 mate dance: bro don't have a mate dance, if he likes you he would be all over you.

EXTRAS: gargoyle dicks look like a whales but with bumps to hot all the right places to please the female more during sex sexy time the female will get really wet, but depending on the males size the male has a slick glands at the base and tip to help. for humans, the male with first get her wet enough then lubricate his cock more, he will start out slow and if the female allows it, will speed up the pace. for male x male... same thing as the female, courtship dance and then sex.. just no offspring.. female x female.. one will have to be the more dominate to protect their S/O. but sex.. basically lesbian sex.. nothin special. depending on the gargoyles wings.. you can give live birth or have eggs.. for humans, its a 100 percent chance you will get a egg or live birth.. if the male has feathered wings, you basically have an egg.. bat like wings then live. human or not the baby will be purebred gargoyle. but there is a 10 percent chance on getting a human. for gargoyle x gargoyle, its a 50 50 percent thing. when it comes to eggs.. both the female human and gargoyle will incubate the egg inside the womb.. and when the egg is ready to hatch, she will give birth, after a few the egg will hatch. (imagine being a human that just hatched from an egg and telling people you hatched from an egg XD) the father is like a male betta fish.. very protective of the mate and baby and will get very aggressive to anyone he thinks is a threat to his family.. same with male x male and female x female. if there is a homeless baby... there is a possible chance it will get adopted.. an average gargoyle can take care of 20 babies at a time.. gargoyle nest are just made from moss and some other soft stuff found in the wilderness, they will select and high place and just build there nest there.. mainly on there stand they have. it has to be comfortable enough for there mate. yes you can ride them. just hop on there back and make sure you have a good grip on there shoulders or else you fall off.. if you want wrap your arms around there neck but not enough to choke em. (i forgot Zohakuten on my last one so here is is) he is like his brothers. black feathers tipped with a red orange color. black fluff on his limbs and tail. horns stay the same as in canon his tail is actually 5 dragon heads since he is still a baby he still got baby fluff and his wings aren't fully developed so he depends on his bros for transportation he can glide but not that good he just hopes on there back and just hitches a ride when it comes to flying. yes his bros do teach em how to glide and how to use his wings correctly.

#gargoyle au #kny au #kny x reader #oof #hasira #hashira x reader #kny mitsuri #kny obanai #kny giyuu #kny zohakuten #kny gyomei #kny rengoku #kny tengen #kny shinobu'#kny shinobu #kny tanjiro #kny nezuko #kny zenitsu #kny inosuke

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corvuscorona · 1 year ago

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SHADOW MONSTER - an Astos playlist

...for when you need to spend about an hour rotating that guy in your mind at top speed, or at least a little faster than chillout speed.

(YouTube playlist here) • (tracklist etc. below the cut)

Needed a playlist I could Think About Astos To while doing chores or whatever & it turned out I had the ammunition I needed to be kinda picky, so I'm sharing it here with all my comrades-in-Astos-scholarship, too! You know, in case you also need some music to Think About Astos To. Which seems possible-to-likely, I think.

I have only included tracks that are reasonably well balanced for Normal Listening (just please forgive me for the PS2 synth horns in "finish the promise" if you can find it in your heart). Also, if you use the YT playlist, Man Human is shorter than it should be, so listen to it twice if you want.

ACT I: IMPETUS

Creep City • Jake Shears I said I'd hang on for the ride / now I'm hanging on for dear life / …is that a real knife? バケモノ信者 (Bakemono Shinja / Monster Believer) • MAIKI-P 人の顔した　バケモノさ / 気づけば僕も　バケモノさ • hito no kao shita bakemono sa / kizukeba boku mo bakemono sa it's a monster with a human face / and now that I think about it, I'm a monster, too 心臓 (Shinzō / Heart[1]) • TOOBOE 蘇ってしまうよ　貴方の為なら幾らでも / 間違いも愛せるよ　馬鹿なもんでさ / 生き返ってしまうよ　貴方がくれた命だから • yomigaette shimau yo anata no tame nara ikura demo / machigai mo aiseru yo baka na monde sa / ikikaette shimau yo anata ga kureta inochidakara for you, I'd revive again and again / loving even the mistakes, fool that I am / I'll come back to life because it's the life you gave me

ACT II: THE PROCESS

Bleed it Out • Linkin Park half the words don't mean a thing / and I know that I won't be satisfied Man Human • Denki Groove for Devilman Crybaby Just One Yesterday • Fall Out Boy I want to teach you a lesson in the worst kind of way / still, I'd trade all my tomorrows…

ACT III: MADNESS

Décolleté • Kenshi Yonezu 兎角疲れました / 数えるから直ぐに消えて • tokaku tsukaremashita / kazoeru kara sugu ni kiete at any rate, I'm exhausted / I'll count, so hurry up and disappear [2] うみなおし (Uminaoshi / Rebirth[3]) • Maretu 君は何も悪くないぜ / (多分) • kimi wa nani mo warukunai ze / (tabun) you've done nothing wrong / (probably) 空想メソロギヰ (Kuusou Mesorogiwi / Fantastical Mesology) • Yousei Teikoku for Future Diary (See [4] below.)

ACT IV: FOR WHAT

A Good Song Never Dies • Saint Motel it just reminds you of where you were / the first time it made you cry / the first time you felt alive… SHADOW MONSTER • Toki Asako 探しものは踊らなきゃ見つからない • sagashimono wa odoranakya mitsukaranai if we don't dance, we won't find what we're looking for.

ACT V: RESOLVE

JUMPER • CAPSULE anger stress and secrets they won't break you wake up put aside you(')r(e) feeling nothing freely speed up landing stepping jumping jump Leave The Light On • Overcoats what if I don't make it home / you're not there, and the light's not on

ACT VI: THE END

still feel. • half•alive when it's hopeless, I start to notice / that I still feel alive finish the promise • MOTOO FUJIWARA for Tales of the Abyss White Light • Superfly for Tales of Zestiria 正解なんてない間違いなんてない / 塗り替えてゆけ在るべき世界へ • seikai nante nai machigai nante nai / nurikaete yuke arubeki sekai e there's no such thing as right; there's no such thing as wrong / remake this world into what it should have been

( NOTES )

[1] - Specifically the anatomical term. Metaphorical uses of this word do seem to be a thing, but skew more towards meaning something like "courage" (think "guts" or "spine") as opposed to 心 (kokoro) on its own, which is used for something more like "essence", "spirit", "soul". Incidentally, I highly… HIGHLY recommend watching the MV for this one (Check the YT link before the readmore)! [2] - Eternal plug for vgperson, who has been my source for Kenshi Yonezu lyrics since something like 2010, and is the backbone of society. Check out the full translation there (ctrl+F the title!) to get a feel for this song's whole... vibe (which I'd describe as a very specific flavor of "fuck. god damn it. whatever; leave me alone," which of course is why it's here). [3] - There's a footnote on the Vocaloid Lyrics Wiki page for this song that conveys something interesting about the title; it says: "'Uminaoshi' isn’t a word that’s typically used to mean 'rebirth'; rather, it is a compound made up of a word meaning 'to give birth' and a word that carries the sense of doing something over to fix mistakes, because you messed it up the last time," which is fun, I think. [4] - This song's lyrics are poetic in a way that makes them difficult to interpret as-written, let alone translate in a way that makes literally any sense at all. The official MV does have English subtitles that are NOT auto-translated, though. Those are the most coherent piece of information I can give you (check the YT link before the readmore!) re: why the Future Diary OP is even in this playlist, except for this statement: it's about breaking free of a time loop that's being treated like a game in some way by The Entity In Charge Of It. (And also, it sounds like... you know, like the way that it sounds.)

#stranger of paradise #stranger of paradise final fantasy origin #sopffo #hi everybody I'm going to go write fic now I just had to get this OUT of my drafts and into your ears first. thank you I love you bye #EDIT: my wife (immediately): 'what kind of play has six acts' listen is there a better way to separate a chunk into smaller chunks #which I think u should eat in order? NO? didn't think so.

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shroomgal · 4 months ago

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Were we really soul tied or was it just limerence?

This is based off of my own research and experience.

About three years ago i matched with this guy on tinder. He wasn't particularly striking. White, shaggy dark brown hair, big nerdy glasses and brown eyes that caught me off guard a little. I swiped right and we matched instantaneously. We talked here and there for about two weeks, sending selfies back and forth, playing the weird game that is snapchat, which is so fucking normalized for whatever reason. (like really, why are we sending blank photos of to each other with no context or conversation ??) Anyways, two weeks in was when the situationship started. A situationship is the stage between friends with benefits and a relationship. Situationships can feel like limbo, never knowing if it will surpass where its currently at. I was drunk at a club, shaking my ass to the latest 2021 trap hits. He asks me to hookup, and I honestly just needed the validation. My friend drives me 15 minutes to his place, where I meet him in his big white range rover in the parking garage of his apartment building. From there, he tells me I'm beautiful in person. I've always had a soft spot for that word. Beautiful. I didn't hear it about myself too often. When he said it, it felt true. And genuine. We had sex.

I started talking to him daily through our snapchats, enamored by our first night together. He would come over, we would hang out, smoke, fuck, watch tv, be human. I developed a bond with him where I felt comfortable in my own skin. I felt comfortable to show him parts of my personality other people didn't normally see. The obsession grew. He took me to a smoothie shop this one time, we held hands. I thought for sure he was my next boyfriend, maybe even my last if I played my cards right. I envisioned a life with him, where I was comfortable, and happy, and me.

One day, after a month of us hanging out, he cancelled on me. Then he cancelled again. Eventually he just stopped responding to me via snapchat. I knew I was getting ghosted, but it was more heart wrenching this time. It was like he was squeezing my heart into knots, watching the blood pour out. When I found out it was because there was someone else, that hurt even more. When I saw he had superliked my best friend on tinder, thats when a part of me crumbled.

On and off these memories of us floated around in my head. This perfect thing that had suddenly vanished, and at that, he had shown interest in the person i loved and trusted the most. Knowing she was in my life. The questions danced in my head, taunting me with every blink. "How did he lose interest so quickly? Things seemed so real and normal." "Why does he want my best friend and not me?" "What am I doing wrong?" These questions and comments on myself mocked me.

I decided to try and win him back. If he wanted mentally ill and crazy, oh, I was gonna give him just that. I played the crazy obsessive ex role. Texting him and calling him, mostly just dumb pranks and me begging for him back the most unserious ways i could. Sometimes he would add me back, we would sext and he would block me again in the morning. But after a while, I met someone else, and gave up.

Thats when he stepped back in. He added me on snapchat, I ignored it. He unadded me and then added me back. I ignored him. He then proceeded to spam like my instagram photos, determined to get my attention. This was now different. He was chasing ME this time. It was tempting, especially since my relationship at the time had been sailing south. But i declined his offers, and went on with my life until,

My relationship ended. All of the sudden, I was back on the obsession train. The thought of him plagued my mind. His hair, his glasses, his voice, his eyes. Everything. The game continued, he would unblock me, we would sext, he would block me in the morning. Eventually I guess this game got old to him because suddenly my texts wouldnt deliver at all, even after a few days. I've stopped myself from reaching out since I called, not expecting a response, and he told me to move on.

Now, my question was, was i really connected to this man, or was I just led into delusion? Well, I fully believe I was a victim of BPD limerence. I do NOT think that we had any sort of soul tie at this point, despite all the angel numbers I've seen in regards to this. I think he's just a shitty guy at this point who liked my hot girl obsession. I think I unfortunately gave him exactly what he wanted, and for that i say to myself: GIRL STAND UP!!!!! In conclusion I am insane and I need to stop letting men take over my brain. At the end of the day, I am authentic. And me. And I have SO much, with or without this man in my life.

#bs writing abt my lore #lmk if yall want more of this #\

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wafflebloggies · 1 year ago

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22. a better purpose

back

“You were saying?” said the new Mark.

He set a foot on the curve of Antonio’s back and pulled on the splintered chunk of sign, yanking it partway out with a gloopy cracking sound that drew a quiet moan from Antonio as he slipped forwards. The hands that clutched the wood looked human enough, a little too sharp around the fingers, black to the elbows with soot and goop.

For something that had been at the epicentre of a not-insignificant explosion, he looked pretty good, which was to say, he looked bloody awful.

His clothes were shredded by shrapnel and fire and there was a weird formlessness beneath his shirt like the slack hollowness of a scarecrow’s, fuller on one side than the other, as if whatever was underneath was still putting itself back together. Although he had the right number of legs and they were still holding him up just fine, something about the way he moved was reminiscent of the dog, how it had kept going after the loss of most of its head, picking itself up and thrashing onwards to find something to hurt.

Although he still looked like Mark, in the same way that the facade of a building can still stand and look like the thing it was initially built to be, betraying little, when the true structure behind it is a fallen, mangled mess, the mask of humanity was shattered, struggling. The eyes were there, wild, terrible in their unfocused venom, the teeth were certainly there, but if you looked for too long there was some confusion about what shape they were supposed to be, how they all could possibly fit. He raised his hand, or at least one of the two things that had mostly decided to carry on being hand-adjacent for now, smacked out a small fire in the fabric of his shoulder, and swiped black spittle from the corner of his mouth.

“It’s over,” he parroted, grinning. “Is it, Mark? Is it over?” He took a couple of quick steps, and Mark retreated, warily, stumbling a little as he backed off the path and into the rockery. “You really think you just get to scurry off into the sunset with sunshine-and-rainbows-ever-after like he probably told you? We both know Knuckles here isn’t exactly the brain trust, but you? C’mon, you’re making us both look dumb.”

“Kinda... smug,” said Antonio, quietly, behind him, “for the guy… blew up the house.”

He pawed with stupid unresponsive fingers at the sharp length of barnwood running him through, but only managed to get a hand slackly on it, like somebody at the tiller of a very unwieldy boat. He could feel the heat of the flames, baking into his back. He was leaking, slowly, onto the front path, a little black pool forming around his knees on the stones. Firelight danced in it, every glossy splatter rimmed in sharp orange-yellow-white light. He couldn’t get a lot of volume into his voice, not with such a hole in the middle of him, but the thing that still looked passably like Mark heard him, regardless, and turned.

“Oh, now you’ve got something to say, bestie? Something to contribute?”

He might have seen some reflection, or glimmer of surprise, in Antonio’s eyes, or he might have been clued in by the crunch of stones even under the roar of the fire, but he was a little too late, and had only just started to turn when Mark’s backpack, by this point a singed beat-up behemoth stuffed with cables, papers, the laptop, and most-everything-else picked up along the way, whacked him across the back of the head with a solid thud.

Mark’s glasses went skittering off over the path, and before the new Mark could even straighten, there was a truncated scream as Mark arrived, swinging the pack like it was a pendulum he had very little control over (which was very likely the case.) The new Mark staggered as the heavy thing drove into his middle, letting go of the shattered sign, but as Mark swung again at his face he caught the pack on his arm and swatted it away, then caught Mark by the scruff of the neck and simply shoved him over, hard. Mark landed heavily, smacked the side of his head on the stones, and recoiled in pain, apparently half-dazed.

“Stay,” snarled the new Mark, stabbing a blackened finger at his double like Mark was a disobedient pet. Antonio tried to stand, but the new Mark was already striding back towards him, and wrapping a cold wet twitching hand around his, he twisted, driving the makeshift spear deeper back through, curdling the words in his mouth into a harsh agonized groan.

“You really want to go there?” he said, as if he hadn’t even been interrupted. “You want to talk about whose fault this is? You want to talk about how they didn’t even need the real you, not enough to have you replace him?” The new Mark grinned. “Huge surprise, I guess they weren’t really hurting for bleeding-heart, mediocre edit-monkeys. The only reason they decided to send you here to watch him was your stupid name, did you know that? And you couldn’t even do that properly. You let him squirrel the spore away right under your nose, you nearly let him escape… I mean, wow, were you ever not a complete joke?”

He stuck out a stretched, dripping hand, gesturing starkly to the entire self-evident comedy act that was Antonio, in esse. “And then, right when you could’ve been some use, right when there might’ve been some point to you… something I guess just goes pchooo in that big ol’ melon of yours, and you go running off to help Sonic-boy over there get away from us, like that’s a thing. Like that’s ever,” he ground the long shank of charred wood in further for emphasis, “going, to be a thing.”

He let go of the creaking spar of barnwood and crouched, ignoring Mark for the moment, pressing a dirty and blackened finger directly into the centre of Antonio’s brow. Antonio could feel the heat coursing through it, the furious strung-out energy as the thing, with so much spent on regrowth after such a catastrophic injury, with so much pent-up malice trying to force itself out just as he tried to force it in, struggled to set itself back on an even keel, struggled between the way it was meant to be and the shape that, without noticing, it had bent itself into. Antonio knew exactly how it felt because he had been trying to do the exact same thing for weeks, and had felt the pain and confusion and the loss, the broken marooned fear of it if not the anger, the way it felt to be pulled two ways at once. He would have felt sorry, if he hadn’t been so worried for Mark- for himself- for them both.

“Nobody gets away, can you grasp that now or do I need to carve it into your forehead?” The new Mark twisted his finger, pulled away in disgust. “All you managed to do was jank stuff up for me. Now there’s no spore, there’s no Muse, there’s no channel, and maybe you think you did something clever, but he made a deal, he still belongs to Mother, and she doesn’t let go of her stuff that easily, does she? Just ask his stupid friend. And I don’t care what happens to him, I don’t care what happens to you, but I’ll be- hecked,” he spat, jabbing down, “if I’m gonna let either of you two clownshoes screw this up for ME-”

He broke off, catching himself a little too late, his hands jerking as if they would have stopped his own mouth, and he looked sharply down at Antonio. At the slow smile, sharpened by pain and wooziness, spreading across Antonio’s face.

“So… it is about you,” he murmured. The new Mark’s awful grin faltered, at last, his eyes widening even further in outrage, and maybe a tiny bit of panic.

“What? No, I-”

“What you want, what you need…”

“Don’t you dare-”

“It’s okay,” said Antonio, gently. “It’s not bad... it happened to me, too. I know… I know how it feels.”

“Oh, no,” said the new Mark, and there was something new in his voice, fury mixed now with something like fear that made it worse, squeezed it into something more vicious, like a snake trapped in a tight corner. “No. No, you don’t. The things I’ve done,” he said, slowly, bearing down harder with every emphasis, “since you left, the things I’ve had to do, to fix the stuff you did, because that pathetic little…” He struggled, the warped overlong shape of his mouth working in frustration, then gave up on any stronger epithet and vented his feelings with another twist of the barnwood into Antonio’s guts, a deep cracking squelch.

“… little DOINK, broke you…” He stopped, a horrible triumphant light dawning in his face.

“I’m telling.” He let go, standing, hands curling at his sides. His eyes, without the humanizing shield of Mark’s glasses, were narrowed to mad slits, and his lips were flecked with black spit and drawn back from his teeth in something that not even the most credulous person would have called a smile. “I’m telling Mother. Everything. And you, buddy, you’re the lucky one. You know that, right? Yeah, I don’t even know what they’re gonna do to him-”

There was the difference. It was there, in that grin, in the way that even though there was barely an inch’s space between them, the distance felt huge, unfathomable. Antonio felt slowly towards the idea, in a quiet peaceful place inside that felt a long way away from the blistering heat at his back and the pain driving through his middle. He couldn’t have spoken it, even if he’d had the breath. He just knew it, in a small halting way that had very little to do with his own perception of himself, or his conscious understanding, such as it was, of the new Mark. Here was a thing that, finding itself thinking, thought of itself first. Finding itself going wrong, finding itself on a path which meant losing everything it knew and had certainty and confidence in, it had no greater thought than wanting, needing, to win against everything in its way. And the last thing that it wanted to think, to ever admit, was that it had gone wrong at all.

With an effort that felt like it took everything left inside of him, Antonio got both hands on the wood lodged deeply in his chest and pulled. The sharp spar came out slowly, with a sucking noise, the writing illegible under the black goop dripping along its length. His hand dropped, the wood held in a vague reflexive grip, clattering against the hot stones.

“Oh, now what?” snapped the new Mark, impatiently, and that was maybe the last thing he ever said, before Antonio grabbed him by the front of his burned, ragged black shirt, and threw him bodily backwards, towards the front window of the burning house.

If he’d been able to find his feet, grab something, he might have been able to stop himself, even then. Antonio didn’t give him the chance. He followed right behind his own throw like a linebacker with a deathwish, hurtling forwards and tackling him with all his weight and the rest of his strength, carrying them both through the blazing wallflowers, the cross-hatched canopy of fire that used to be the trellis, the window, in an explosion of glass and heat, right back into the flames.

He landed on top of the new Mark in the scorching heat, felt him twist underneath him and try to rise.

As fresh air rushed into the room, the fire took on new life. Gouts of enthusiastic flame ran up the walls, obliterating the last traces of the grey-black streaks staining the vents, running down. Fire flooded up and across the remaining shell of the ceiling in a boiling sheet, snatching upwards for the sky. Antonio found himself fighting to stay still, holding the new Mark down with all of his failing strength, as the thing that should have been his best friend fought to get loose.

Should have. For the little that would have meant, to either of them. The new Mark bucked and tore at him and a hand that was as strong as a vulture’s claw found the wet hurting place in his middle and jabbed deep.

Antonio was tired, badly hurt. He was starting to feel as if his relief that he hadn’t just popped from damage or outrage to the fabric of the thing that he was, might have been a little premature. On the other hand, he could feel the rage and desperation of his opponent, a fire of another kind entirely way out of control and out to destroy, without thought or care, anything in its way, and that was a reason enough in itself to keep himself together. Without him in the way, all this fury, this fraying destructive force wound up like a savage spring without anything to tell it where to aim, would fall squarely on the only remaining target.

The new Mark struck out again, gripping cruelly right where the tear in Antonio’s shirt was plastered to him with wet blackness, but Antonio only had to hang on, and as the new Mark tried to claw at him he grabbed at something that fell across his body and rolled and drove down, blindly, with a heavy resistance under his hands and a thick, unpleasant squelch.

He fell back, rolled away, exhausted to his last resource. The boards were fever-hot against his back. By his side, the new Mark stared blindly up at the shattered ceiling, inky claws seizing in place, curling around the sharp barnwood spar jutting up through his chest, spearing him through.

Be Joyful Always,

The words blurred, slid away. The world seemed unwilling to focus properly, on this sight or any other. Antonio felt as if he had no right to force it, if it didn’t want to, and with a sense of numb and weary relief he let his head drop back against the hot floor- very nearly where he’d fallen, weeks ago, from a much higher place than this- and let the world go dark.

Antonio opened his human eyes.

He looked up and through the shattered roof and the long twisting shrouds of smoke he saw the sky, deep clear black, and the stars. They glittered and winked as the smoke ebbed against them, sometimes weakening their light and sometimes blotting it from his view, but it didn’t mean they weren’t there. Even with the fire creeping closer, the smoke rising thicker, spiralling and blooming in columns from the wreckage around him, they were there.

He felt peaceful, his mind quiet, as simple and uncluttered as the night sky with each far-distant point of light bright and clear and free. He lay still, and for a moment or two he felt as if even the heat and the pain didn’t matter as much as being able to just be still down here, and look up at the stars, and not have to do anything else, nothing else hard and painful and wrong every way, everywhere. He could just lie here and ignore the flames, let them do their thing. Sooner or later…

The stars moved.

He wondered if he’d imagined it, if maybe it was a trick of the smoke and the heat warping the air as it rose, until it happened again. Now, he felt a slow scraping dragging against his back, his shirt riding up against the gritty baking floor, and he realised the stars were not moving, but he was.

Not very much, at least not much in one go, but in a series of short, bumpy bursts…

Antonio blinked, slowly. His eyes stung, wetness was drying and crusted down the sides of his face and his cheeks. The stars and the broken doorframe in his view moved again, maybe two feet, and now he could feel a certain centre of gravity, a definite anchor to the way he was moving or being moved, that it was something to do with his ankles or feet or something in that area, that there was a deal of activity going on down there, and-

And, as his head bumped over the front step and clattered against the stones of the front path, as cool air touched his face and chilled against the streaks of his tears, he realised that the struggling, moving shape was Mark.

Mark, having a very difficult time of it, scrabbling and slipping, pausing here and there to cough up what sounded like half a lung, yanking with gritted teeth and digging his heels (one-shoe-one-sock) into anything he could find purchase against, way too close to the rising flames and letting that worrisome fact matter just as much as anything else ever mattered to Mark when his mind was made up, had dragged him by slow painful awkward feet and inches, right out of the house.

Antonio tried to sit up. His middle twanged at him, but he managed to find the breath to speak.

“Hey, Mark...”

Mark started, his grip slipping on Antonio’s legs in his surprise, nearly pitching himself backwards. He popped back into Antonio’s view like a jack-in-the-box, and he looked incredibly startled to see him awake and talking, but- as Antonio recognized with a small, warm glow of feeling- he didn’t look upset about it. Not at all.

It was a good time to be reminded about the glow, Antonio thought. Even now, there was still something left for him to do.

As Mark reached down to pull him up, Antonio took his hands and, with a gentle inwards reach he felt through and caught and unwound the final traces of the Muse’s light clinging to the edges of Mark’s being, the last traces of the infection seeded so recently and still hiding in the mantle of that bright blue-white light, and drew it into himself. It came easily, his fingers tracing themselves momentarily from the tips upwards with darker, sharper lines along each crease and vein.

Mark’s face contracted for a moment in an involuntary little wince as he felt the traces of it leave him, and then it was over. He said nothing, pausing only to wipe his nose on the back of his hand (not making either cleaner by the effort) then reaching out again, to help Antonio to his feet.

The street was a wide black river, scattered with chunks of plaster, bits of rubble and tile. The phenomenal heat receded behind them, from a baking glow that stung at the skin and drew sweat just by standing in it to a fierce warmth on their backs, as they made it across the no-man’s-land of asphalt and sidewalk and stumbled to a halt, a little way up the gentle rise of Mrs. Hernandez’s lawn. Once at a standstill, Mark slipped down into an untidy sitting position, legs sprawled, and leaned back on his elbows, breathing in huge gasps of clean air. Antonio sat himself gingerly down beside him, right shoulder to Mark’s left, holding his middle.

The night air was blessedly cool and fresh. Far beyond the sounds of the fire, beneath the crackle of splitting wood and the occasional crash and tumble of masonry, Antonio could hear the distant wail of sirens.

“I’m, uh... I’m sorry about your house,” he said.

“I’m not,” said Mark, with feeling.

After a while, he sat up. Side by side on the lawn, they sat quiet for a while and watched the fire, the air shimmering in the heat, sparks whirling to the sky.

“It should’ve been me,” said Mark. Antonio looked at him, surprised, as he made an attempt to clean his glasses and slowly poked them back onto his nose. He saw that Mark was looking deep into the flames, into the white-yellow heart of the wreckage, squinting against the glare as if he would face it down, just like he’d faced down everything else, until it broke or he did. “For every-” He broke off. “I promised myself. I fed it, I let it use me, I let it get out of control, I-”

He stopped, looked down. “It was never in control. When I realized that, I- I swore I’d be the one to kill it.”

“You were,” said Antonio. “Okay, so there were a few extra steps, but... like I told you, none of this would have happened if it hadn’t been for you just… bein’ you, Mark.”

If Mark believed him, if he felt the truth of what Antonio was telling him, was perhaps a question for another time. Right now, it was enough that he heard him, and that he listened. He looked away, down into his lap, the eyes behind the cracked glasses half-closed and bright, and nodded- a tiny, involuntary motion.

The sirens were becoming quite loud, now. Figures moved in the porches and driveways along the road, as the other inhabitants of Coral Drive started to pick up the courage to come and investigate. Antonio could see one or two flickering little rectangles of phone screens, held up at a distance, aimed towards the house. Somewhere behind them, in the safety of her front porch, Elaine Hernandez was standing wrapped up in a fluffy housecoat like a little moth in a paisley cocoon, her big glasses reflecting the flames as she stared across the street in horror, a hand to her mouth. She had not yet seen the two of them, two dark unremarkable shapes perched quietly on the grass bank. Nobody had.

Antonio took his hands away from his stomach and cursorily examined the fast-filling wound under his shirt, picked a couple of small chunks of debris out of his hair and flicked them away. He felt worn nearly to nothing, full of aches under his skin in all the places where his body was patiently setting about repairing itself for the nth time, but as far as he could tell it all felt mostly stable. He was no expert, but he felt as if he would probably stay put.

“What happens now?” he asked, quietly. He didn’t know exactly who he was asking- the universe, the fabric of his own tired body, himself- but Mark was there, and it was Mark who answered.

“I don’t know.” He was moving his palm back and forth against the cool grass by his side, letting the blades flatten and bounce up around his fingers. He closed his eyes for a moment, turning his face to the breeze, and Antonio saw the trace of a faint smile lifting, lightening his exhausted, soot-streaked face. The night-wind rose in a gentle eddy across the lawn, against their backs, towards the flames, bringing the sound of the sirens closer, rising with the scent of the oncoming rain.

“I guess... we’ll find out.”

Antonio looked up. Just hearing Mark say these words felt like the ending of something, the last coda of a song that had begun such a long time ago that he could barely remember how it had started, let alone how he’d known it by heart, way back when. He didn’t know what it meant, that it was over, only that right now it felt like nothing tied him to the warped and unkind mechanisms that had made him and set him going down the path they’d ground out for him. He supposed that it had been unimaginable to them, just as it had been to him, that he might find a path for himself.

And the idea might be terrifying, but as the breeze rose and blew the smoke thin against the stars so that they glowed like a bright comforter around the moon, he thought it might be a joyous thing, too. No human was born with a purpose, after all, and a lot of them seemed to do okay, be okay, find a meaning even in the face of the pain and the horror in their worlds, make a difference despite their fragile places among the vast turning wheels of things that neither knew or cared about how content or happy or kind they might be.

If they could figure it out, he was confident that he could, too.

Antonio closed his eyes- all of them, even the ones inside- and smiled.

#dftm #don't feed the muse #muse arg #alex bale #mark mayhew #antonio geist #fake mark #fark #my writing

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subliminalbo · 2 years ago

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Assimilation #3: All Life Surrenders to the Master

Gabrielle's friends knew that she was drunk when she insisted, "Guys, guys, I'm not Gabby tonight, okay? I'm Gabr-ielle." No one had ever seen her like this. She was the straight-laced one, the good kid who didn't break habit in college. But tonight, just for one night, she wanted to fuck around.

There was a pause among her girlfriends before they all burst out laughing. "Shut the fuck up!" Katy shouted. "You're so drunk."

Gabrielle shook her head. "Not drunk enough!" She took another sip from her long island.

The Gabby embargo was just a small part of her big plan for hot girl summer, which Katy had come to call “the summer of fucking strangers and forgeting about Ty.” It started with the tight red dress that curved its way down her body. She'd never felt this hot before in her life and she wasn't going to waste this energy tucked away in a booth at the club. The new Gabby–Gabr-ielle–liked to dance.

"Let's get back out there," Gabrielle said, eyeing a group of white boys in pastel polos and khaki shorts. Not her type, but she was up for anything tonight.

Katy shot a side glance to Crystal as the girls slipped out of their booth. "Watch her, okay?"

The girls were used to getting fucked up, but Gabby had a habit of ditching the group before the second round of cocktails. They'd all shared a laugh when she told them about the plan, but the way she was grinding on every eligible stranger tonight showed just how serious she was. She was testing them. First, to see if they measured up to Ty. Second, if they had the potential to be even better.

It wasn’t like she was looking for a replacement. Gabrielle wasn’t even close to getting back into serious dating. But Ty had certain skills that she missed late at night in the lonely darkness of her apartment. She’d give anything to feel that kind of human connection right now.

After working her way through a parade of spoiled white boys, she found herself alone and exhausted at the bar. That was where she met Justin. Tall, athletic, and crazy hot. They chatted about hot girl summer as he made her a drink, which somehow shifted to literature. He was smart too, it turned out. Justin was tending bar as he worked his way through engineering school, but he could hold his own in a conversation about books. (Nabokov? Overrated pervert. Flannery O’Connor? Overlooked genius).

Gabrielle’s drink was reaching the bottom when Justin asked, “What do you think about a guy like me?”

Gabrielle laughed. She tried her best to straighten her face and she said, “That depends. How often do you pick up girls here?”

“Completely honest?” Justin asked. “I don’t mess around at work. But I think you’re worth breaking the rules for.”

Gabrielle’s next laugh came out short and squeaky, more like a snorty hiccup. It was a goof line, but it was definitely just a line.

She smiled, tried not to laugh that awkward laugh again, then leaned playfully away from the bar as if to size Justin up. “Completely honest?” she mimicked him. “You’re running laps around these other boys right now.”

Justin smiled. The club lights made his eyes appear to glow, and Gabrielle saw hunger in them. It only made her want him more.

When Gabrielle’s back touched the cold ceramic, she gasped. The feeling was jarring enough to pull her from whatever thoughts had been running through her head as she followed Justin to the employee bathroom. They were almost certainly thoughts about Ty. But as she pressed her palms to the wall to brace herself for Justin, all she could think about was this moment. She’d never done anything this impulsive before. She’d never just followed her instinct.

Gabrielle closed her eyes as Justin nibbled at her neck. She swung her hands up from the wall and pressed them to his chest. When Gabrielle was a teenager she’d been attracted almost exclusively to lanky, nerdy men, but Ty was a linebacker for the Carpenter State Gremlins when she met him. A junior redshirt. He redefined everything she thought about her sexuality. Feeling Justin’s sculpted body beneath his sweater made her heart race. “Your lips feel so good,” she moaned. “But I want your body.”

Justin whispered, “Fuck!” and Gabrielle’s eyes snapped open.

“What’s wrong?”

“I need a condom,” he said, patting down his jeans.

“Baby,” Gabrielle heaved a frustrated sigh. “Don’t play with me.”

Justin gestured for her to stay put. “Wait here. I’ll be two minutes.” “Bay-by!”

Despite her protests, Gabrielle found herself alone in the small bathroom, nothing but the sound of the muffled bass from the club to keep her company. Two minutes, she thought. Then on to the next one. But the longer Gabrielle waited the more susceptible she was to second guessing. She already doubted every choice by nature, what was she doing waiting for some fuckboy in a public bathroom?

She closed her eyes again, tried to work herself up by picturing Justin’s body beneath that tight sweater. But once she was in the dark she only saw Ty’s face.

“It might hurt, but I’m with you. Don’t hold your breath.”

He’d been so gentle their first time. She could still feel him sinking inside of her, going slow and studying her reactions. It was everything she had imagined. Tender, loving, and passionate. And even though it hurt, she was eager for more.

“Breathe.”

God, she was getting so worked up thinking about it. Ty wasn’t even here and he could still work her up more than anybody. Gabrielle’s heart rate was picking up again, her legs were shaking. She needed to be fucked, and she needed to be fucked by him. She tried to talk herself into Justin. He was hot, he was smart. If she kept her eyes closed, maybe she wouldn’t even know the difference.

“Exhale. Exhale and…”

submit

The voice hit Gabrielle like a Mack Truck.

It wasn’t Ty’s, or Justin’s, or even Katy’s. It didn’t even feel human. The moment its words found her mind, everything snapped away as if the world was a conversation spoken over the phone and the line had just been cut. Thoughts of old boyfriends and rebounds, concerned friends, the stress of finals, internship applications. It was all gone, replaced with nothing.

Nothing but an instinct to submit.

“Hey! Fuck! Are you okay?”

Justin found Gabrielle slumped on the bathroom floor. His first fear was a seizure. Her eyes were closed, her body was tight, her muscles spasming. A line of drool had begun to dribble down her chin. Had she been high?

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Hey,” Justin repeated. He squatted down to her level and pressed his hand to her warm cheek.

come

Gabrielle’s eyes snapped open in response to the voice, sending Justin backward on his ass.

“Yesss,” she moaned. “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me,” Justin sighed.

Gabrielle tilted her head at the vague recognition that she wasn’t alone in the room, but her mind remained fixated on the voice.

“I must go to him,” she said.

“Go to who?” Justin asked.

Gabrielle pushed herself up from the floor, inching slowly up the wall until she was on her feet. She stumbled forward, her eyes sinking through Justin and into some vast oblivion where the Master was calling. She moved silently by him, even as he called out after her. She disappeared into the darkness of the club, and now Justin was the one lost for words.

By the time Gabrielle’s friends noticed that she was gone, she had followed the voice deep into the Romero forest. Dozens more joined her along the way. Pulled from their cars, their beds, their dorm rooms. There in the center of the forest they encircled a massive pond, its water as black as ink.

When the Master’s voice echoed once again in their minds–that phantom command to drink–its first converts dropped to their knees in obedience. Gabrielle pressed her hands into the dirt and drank from the pond. A feeling of peace washed over her as the Master took hold. It worked its way inside of her, rewriting the chemistry of her body. The Master was a better feeling than Ty, or Justin, or any frat boy could give her. It was the feeling she’d been searching for this whole time.

Everything in her relationship with Ty had been scripted. Even their first time, when Ty had been so gentle, Gabrielle had control of it all. She planned every detail, from the dinner to the brand of condom. With Justin, Gabrielle sought something more than just a simple rebound. But the whole time she’d really been looking for this. An instinct. And the base instinct of all life was to surrender to the Master.

The voices came to her just as the Master’s had, but she knew that these were human human. While the Master spoke to its vessels in commands, she recognized that the voices echoing through her head were thoughts. She was filled with an indecipherable wall of whispers like a packed theater anxiously awaiting the big show. Gabrielle tried to make sense of the noise, but the sudden surge overwhelmed her. Her body began to tremble, growing more powerful until her knees buckled and she was back on the ground. Her mind replaced with pure, unfiltered ecstasy. It wasn’t merely her own orgasm, but the feeling of all the Master’s vessels witnessing their awakening all at once. The cries that had echoed through their minds now pierced the cold air.

When her senses returned to her, Gabrielle found herself face to face with her own professor, Charlotte Blake. She’d known Professor Blake well in her human life, working closely with her as an editor for the Carpenter Bard. The vessels began to pair off now, cocks filling pussies, tongues licking clits, lips suckling from breasts, practicing transmission. Gabrielle landed in the soft dirt with her professor, her red dress thoughtlessly discarded in the weeds.

Professor Blake spread her legs before Gabrielle, the Master’s black liquid form spilling from her pussy. “Drink,” Professor Blake commanded with the same power as the Master’s voice.

Gabrielle obeyed, her mouth filling with the Master as she licked and suckled at her professor’s clit. Not her professor. Her fellow vessel.

“This is only the beginning!” she cried, her voice coming out in sharp gasps as tremors came in waves. “One by one we will spread, until the Master has taken over every home. All life surrenders to the Master.”

Gabrielle looked up at Professor Blake behind empty, pearl white eyes, her mouth dripping with her professor’s inky black sex. “All life surrenders to the Master,” she droned.

"Breathe, exhale."

return

#hypnokink #mind control #brainwashed #hive mind #series: assimilation #oc: gabrielle peerman

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walkingwiththegods1 · 2 years ago

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Pagan Misconceptions Clarified: Why Pele, is NOT "Only The Angry Goddess Of Volcanoes and Fire, That lives in The Volcano; Kilauea?!"

This is what most people have said or known about Pele: She is the Goddess of Volcanoes and Fire, that lives inside The Volcano Kilauea; and is responsable of the violent eruptions of this volcano, and than she may appeared in human form once in a while; to see the world beyond her home... Well, is time to see beyond this scarce information; and at the end of reading this post, you will know how this can be used in your life!

Pele, is too: The Goddess of Lightning, The Goddess of The Violence; and... The Goddess of The Dance!

The Goddess of Lightning: Most people doesn't know, than during volcanic eruptions; happens a very rare phenomenon, that is commonly associated with storms: The appearance of Lightnings, inside the dark smoke of an erupting volcano! So, Hawaiians during centuries; have said than Pele, is The Deity than can handle this element; than creates respect and fear, at the same time!

The Goddess of The Violence: There are myths, were Pele's character as a violent Deity; is cemented, including killing a lover she toughted was cheating on her; (but was resurrected later) and the fact than the volcanic eruptions in Hawaii, are ones of the most violent on Earth; this is why Pele, is considered as... The Goddess of Violence!

The Goddess of The Dance: According to a myth, Pele is the creator of The Hawaiian Dance of Hula; when she found the ideal island to live, and she danced the first Hula Dance; as a sign of victory: Is still practices today, and it was used as one of the ways to worshipped and honour her!

Hawaii, was colonized a few centuries ago; and, as sadly happened in The New World; (which includes Oceania) the process of Colonization includes an intense campaign of Conversion of The Hawaiian Nation; which little by little, accepted the foreign faith; but... Curiously, Pele's devotion doesnt died as quickly as The Missionaries and Preachers wanted it... This is why Pele, is still vigent in Hawaii's people; today. (Those Missionaries and Preachers, never got it: You may kill a myth, BUT... You will never kill to a God!)

Curious Fact: There is a phenomenon, called; "The Curse of Pele", which happen when people grabbed natural things of Hawaii; as a souvernir, (a pebble, anything than came from the volcanic soil; etc) and as soon they take wharever they found with them... They starts to suffered strikes of bad luck: The only way to being free of this curse, is returning the... "Stolen Object", backed to Hawaii; preferably, travel back to Hawaii yourself; to put the object back where you found it. (I was surprised to know, than in Hawaii's Mail Service; most of the packages than are sended to that island... Are of very streesed tourists than sends back whatever they took from Pele's Land! [So... If you ever trip to Hawaii, and you see a natural element in it than you want to take with you... Is better than you leave it in its place, Okay?!]

Pele, can appears to people; in different ways: The first, is a beautiful woman with long black trenses; and the second, (the more often way); as an old woman of white long flowing hair, sometimes with a white dog. If you ever see her, greet her respectfully saying aloha; and offer your help to her.

In the 80's, in one of the most violent eruptions of The Kilauea; only a hut escaped of being burned down, and when the man was asked of who he was, it was a big surprised to know than the lucky guy... Was a Devotee of Pele! (Which totally explain, why his house wasn't touched by the lava; in the first place...)

Today, people leaves offerings to Pele; to get her protection and to appeased her fury: Yes... She is still revered and respected, today!

And this is all, about The Deity than is more present today than never; in the magical Hawaii's Islands: Pele!

Have all of you, a Life of respecting Nature and The Deities than are close to it... So Be It!

#pagan writings #pagan writer #pagan misconceptions clarified #paganism #hawaiian deity #hawaiian deity pele #hawaiian deity pele is not only the angry goddess of volcanoes and fire #pele deity #pagans #pagan #eclectic pagan #ecletic pagan #hellenic pagan #lokean #pagan from the caribbean

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jwood718 · 2 years ago

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In The Guardian

Gloria Oladipo writes:

“Jordan Neely had a fan club. The 30-year-old Michael Jackson impersonator had amassed a following within New York City and beyond, with thousands online admiring the young man’s aptitude for dance and creating a Facebook group to share his performances.”

Jordan Neely, pictured here in 2009, was a talented Michael Jackson impersonator. New York Daily News/TNS

Neely did reportedly have “mental health issues,” deriving, in large part, to his mother being strangled to death. He also helped other people in want when he could.

“‘He was a nice person, not aggressive or violent. Everyone who knew him knows that. He’d accept anything you had – many of the homeless down here are sober. They’re needing food or shelter or clothing, not strung out and shooting up dope,’ said Minister Ray Tarvin to the Guardian during a protest for Neely on Wednesday in the subway.

Christopher Joyner, a case manager with the Bronx-based non-profit organization The Bridge, told Gothamist he spoke to Neely on several occasions during outreach work meant to get unhoused people into city shelters. ‘He was a decent guy,’ said Joyner. ‘Definitely a guy I looked forward to working more with.’”

full story

Moustafa Bayoumi writes:

“...Jordan Neely didn’t kill himself. He was killed, and not by his medical history. A 24-year-old white ex-marine put him in a chokehold for ‘some 15 minutes,’ according to Juan Alberto Vazquez, a witness at the scene...instead of focusing on Neely’s past, maybe we should be asking what kind of state of mind does it take to strangle a man to death in public.

What state of mind compels someone to use such deadly violence? Military training? Racist beliefs? Misplaced heroism? As of now, who knows, but whatever it was, it wasn’t justified. According to Vazquez, the witness, Neely hadn’t physically attacked anyone before he was tackled. And you don’t have to view the video...to see how Neely is treated not as a human being but as an object to be violently manipulated and controlled. In fact, in our society vulnerable people like Neely are almost always treated like objects to be violently manipulated and controlled.

Vasquez was also quoted as saying: ‘It’s fine that citizens want to jump in and help. But I think as heroes we have to use moderation.’ But who’s asking for heroes in the first place? In a society as militarized and rewarding of violence as ours, there’s nothing more dangerous than someone who believes he’s a hero. (As Bertolt Brecht famously put it: ‘Unhappy is the land that is in need of heroes.’)

...if we looked into it honestly, what we’d see is a society enthralled by its own hierarchies and beholden to its traditions of violence. What we’d see is a society in desperate need of healing.”

Full story

#Jordan Neely #NYC #society?#the Guardian

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smashroomz · 2 months ago

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1 sure

2 no

3 friends and family mostly

4 green day in 02 stadium or whatever its called

5 human again

6 idk

7 black and white striped

8 ex ive had to ghost to get her out of my head unfortunately but also college

9 im not a shoe guy so idk but they are grey

10 a lotta money ig

11 id say quiet reliable and smart (how humble ik ik)

12 dad could be getting a doctorate b4 my mom despite not graduating uni so i was like "not a doctor, shh!" I love reference humor

13 nope

14 my style of creativity?? Idk

15 no

16 hard to tell upon thinking i feel guilty bout a lot

17 dance sing n shout idk if its weird

18 idk what its called but some turkish dish that tasted like i was being probed by aliens

19 i would not

20 freelance modeller/animator with my current skillset

21 friends n family

22 dont wanna be me trivium

24 that one jade masonry ring in my family heirlooms

25 sekaiju

26 sekaiju

27 everyone hates me and is making fun of me behind my back

28 mmmmme and whoevers into me bcs i am lonely :)

29 nop

30 smart and horny

Deep/Fun Questions to Ask!

Do you like watching sunsets?

Have you ever started a rumor?

What makes you laugh hard?

What's the last concert you went to?

If you believed in it, what would you be reincarnated to?

What's your current vocal stim?

What shirt are you wearing?

Who or what is on your mind?

What are your favorite pair of shoes?

What would easily win you over if someone gave you it?

What three words describe you?

What's a funny memory you have?

Do you have any drunk stories?

What's one thing you own that you're sure no one else has?

Do you have any superstitions?

What is your guilty pleasure?

What weird thing do you do when you're alone?

What is the worst food you've ever had?

What fictional character would you bring to life if you could?

If you could join a career immediately, what would it be?

What keeps you going during the day?

Current song on repeat?

Funniest inside joke?

What's your favorite piece of jewelry you own?

Favorite niche topic?

What fandom are you currently in?

Most controversial take?

Favorite ship and why?

Do you have any piercings or tattoos, and what are they?

What is your worst & best quality?

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winderlylandchime · 1 year ago

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1/2 WE ARE AT 3x14! He ran to the kitchen to get himself another soda while singing ‘im at the finish line!’ Over and over. ‘Ohhhh that’s a little depre- WHY ARE COPS HERE? WHY IS IT BLACK AND WHITE?! Look its my boys. *throws a fist in the air* yeah! Fuck cops! Brian is right, it will take more than some flyers! I mean he made everyone love him sooooo who should know better?’ ‘Emmett, come here and let me give you a hug. (em says his dad bought him boxing gloves) did you know that before mom found you at a bus stop, they made me play soccer. I still dont know why they changed their mind.’ (The coach literally begged my dad to not bring him back because he pulled his pants down in front of all the parents and 5 other kids followed it up. He was 6) ‘i agree with Brian, shopping therapy is good for the soul. Awwww look at Justin showing him his art work! This is what I was robbed off at the beginning of the season!’ Hunters mom just showed up ‘MOM?! I don’t trust this bitch. Yeah, no, something is weird’ ‘BRIAN! What tape? What did he bring this guy? Is it a sex tape? Someone answer me!! What the hell did Brian bring him? He looks pretty.’ Ted just showed up at Mels and Linds ‘OH NO. Leave Emmett alone. You’ve done enough! Don’t hurt him more! WHY DID MIKE TELL HIM? Emmett RUN! LEAVE HIM! GET HELP TED. This is sad, i hate this.‘ The bar scene where the ad is shown is now happening. *kinda jumps up and down while sitting* ‘ITS BRIAN! AND JUSTIN! Why are we watching tv Brian? *his jaw almost dropped* what the fuck? Was that the tape he gave to that dude? Did he convince them to play it? I knew he could do it.’ ‘Does Justin know that Brian gave those dudes that tape? (Brian and Em scene is up at the club where they see Ted) aww brian and Emy and Justin. Cuties. Awwww Brian and Emmett are gonna dance! I TOLD YOU THEY COULD BE GREAT FRIENDS! You ARE both tall! I, as a human being deserve to see more of them together. What do i have to do? YES BRIAN TELL HIM! See, my boy cares! Look at them dancing together. Adorable best friends’ ‘HUNTERS MOM DID WHAT?! FUCK HER! I KNEW SHE WAS WEIRD! I will fucking burn this place to the ground if they don’t protect him!’ The scene where Brian is selling stuff is up!! ‘What is going on? Why is the loft empty? HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS?! WHAT THE FUCK DID HE DO? HE IS THE CONCERNED CITIZEN FOR THE TRUTH?! WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK?! I thought he convinced those guys to do it? Holy shit Brian. Possession withdrawal, ha that was funny. He did it because of what Justin said?! Didnt Justin also do something because of what Brian said? *points to britin kissing* my boys! Or as the youth says it: GOALS OF SHIP or whatever’ teds party is now up :/ ‘oh ted. Ted ted ted. Please this is horrible. Youre gonna die if you dont stop. What are they watching? WHAT THE FUCKING HELL IS THIS SHIT?! DID THEY RAPE HIM? WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON? TED PLEASE RUN AND GET HELP! LET THIS BE YOUR WAKE UP CALL PLEASEEEEE WHAT THE FUCK!’ ‘AW BRIAN IS GOING TO VOTE. At the beginning he hated voting and now he’s on his way to do it. I love it. Damn. I wish it was Justin and Brian that would go together to vote. HES SELLING THE PEANUT CAR! HA!’ ‘Oh ted thank fucking god! Finally you saw the light, im so sorry it had to get that far but YOU GO GIRL!..BLAKE?! OH MY GOD HE WENT BACK TO REHAB! he looks good! IM SO HAPPY HES ALIVE AND GETTING HELP! HES THE COUNSELOR?!?! BLAKE I AM SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU! MY BABY GOT BETTER!’ ‘MICHAEL IS TAKING HUNTER?! OH MY GOD HES FINALLY NOT BORING! Maybe it rubs off on Ben and he also stops being boring’

TOLD YOU THEY COULD BE GREAT FRIENDS! You ARE both tall! I, as a human being deserve to see more of them together. What do i have to do? YES BRIAN TELL HIM! See, my boy cares! Look at them dancing together. Adorable best friends Your brother loves the platonic KinneyCutt! YES! I’m grinning.

GOALS OF THE SHIP I’m dying!

I love how protective he is over Hunter. His mother is such an asshole.

And yeah the heartbreak over Ted’s rock bottom (omg when Brian hires him for Kinnetik your brother is going to break his face with his smile)

Finally Mikey does something good!

#ask winderlylandchime #dear sweet anon #queer as folk #a straight man watches qaf us 2000 in the year of our lord 2023

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subliminalbointext · 1 year ago

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Assimilation #3: All Life Surrenders to the Master

Gabrielle’s friends knew that she was drunk when she insisted, “Guys, guys, I’m not Gabby tonight, okay? I’m Gabr-ielle.” No one had ever seen her like this. She was the straight-laced one, the good kid who didn’t break habit in college. But tonight, just for one night, she wanted to fuck around.

There was a pause among her girlfriends before they all burst out laughing. “Shut the fuck up!” Katy shouted. “You’re so drunk.”

Gabrielle shook her head. “Not drunk enough!” She took another sip from her long island.

The Gabby embargo was just a small part of her big plan for hot girl summer, which Katy had come to call “the summer of fucking strangers and forgeting about Ty.” It started with the tight red dress that curved its way down her body. She’d never felt this hot before in her life and she wasn’t going to waste this energy tucked away in a booth at the club. The new Gabby–Gabr-ielle–liked to dance.

“Let’s get back out there,” Gabrielle said, eyeing a group of white boys in pastel polos and khaki shorts. Not her type, but she was up for anything tonight.

Katy shot a side glance to Crystal as the girls slipped out of their booth. “Watch her, okay?”

The girls were used to getting fucked up, but Gabby had a habit of ditching the group before the second round of cocktails. They’d all shared a laugh when she told them about the plan, but the way she was grinding on every eligible stranger tonight showed just how serious she was. She was testing them. First, to see if they measured up to Ty. Second, if they had the potential to be even better.

Gabrielle’s drink was reaching the bottom when Justin asked, “What do you think about a guy like me?”

Gabrielle laughed. She tried her best to straighten her face and she said, “That depends. How often do you pick up girls here?”

“Completely honest?” Justin asked. “I don’t mess around at work. But I think you’re worth breaking the rules for.”

Gabrielle’s next laugh came out short and squeaky, more like a snorty hiccup. It was a goof line, but it was definitely just a line.

Justin smiled. The club lights made his eyes appear to glow, and Gabrielle saw hunger in them. It only made her want him more.

Justin whispered, “Fuck!” and Gabrielle’s eyes snapped open.

“What’s wrong?”

“I need a condom,” he said, patting down his jeans.

“Baby,” Gabrielle heaved a frustrated sigh. “Don’t play with me.”

Justin gestured for her to stay put. “Wait here. I’ll be two minutes.” “Bay-by!”

She closed her eyes again, tried to work herself up by picturing Justin’s body beneath that tight sweater. But once she was in the dark she only saw Ty’s face.

“It might hurt, but I’m with you. Don’t hold your breath.”

“Breathe.”

“Exhale. Exhale and…”

submit

The voice hit Gabrielle like a Mack Truck.

Nothing but an instinct to submit.

“Hey! Fuck! Are you okay?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Hey,” Justin repeated. He squatted down to her level and pressed his hand to her warm cheek.

come

Gabrielle’s eyes snapped open in response to the voice, sending Justin backward on his ass.

“Yesss,” she moaned. “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me,” Justin sighed.

Gabrielle tilted her head at the vague recognition that she wasn’t alone in the room, but her mind remained fixated on the voice.

“I must go to him,” she said.

“Go to who?” Justin asked.

Professor Blake spread her legs before Gabrielle, the Master’s black liquid form spilling from her pussy. “Drink,” Professor Blake commanded with the same power as the Master’s voice.

Gabrielle obeyed, her mouth filling with the Master as she licked and suckled at her professor’s clit. Not her professor. Her fellow vessel.

Gabrielle looked up at Professor Blake behind empty, pearl white eyes, her mouth dripping with her professor’s inky black sex. “All life surrenders to the Master,” she droned.

“Breathe, exhale.”

return

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