#any more. but i just can’t stand people who kind of float through life like that and don’t really think about the future or how their

[jeezypetes]

Worst thing about dogsitting is finding out a very nice lady in her 60s or 70s is still shaving her body hair and she’s probably been doing it since puberty. Best part is finding where they’re hiding drugs but not stealing any because I’m a good person and i brought my own. Jk the best part is looking at all of their food and how they organize it

[chimielie]

i swear that i will hate you 'till forever

summary: Yaku x F!Reader. sometimes divorce is what you really need to strengthen a marriage

word count: 1.2k

cw: angst, alcohol, pr marriage gone extremely wrong, yaku is older by six years, reader is a socialite with no life skills or healthy coping mechanisms, yaku also has no healthy coping mechanisms, no one in this story is doing well, The Judgment of God Himself, also blasphemy

a/n: heeey long time no see. i actually genuinely don't know when i wrote this, i'm just emptying my drafts of all the half-written fics i have locked in jail. i do still like this concept a lot so shoot me an ask if you want to know more about what i had planned for the full thing :)

Morisuke hates weddings.

He stares up at God, who is trapped in a little circle in a bigger circle, surrounded by gorgeous, centuries-old paintings of angels and saints and little red devils. Everything is gold, the flickering light of hanging chandeliers shining down to gild a rapt audience, even as the real people seem to pale in comparison to their artistically rendered counterparts. Standing here, surrounded by ornate displays of divinity, Morisuke has never felt so wealthy in spirit and physicality. He wasn’t raised in this religion, nor was he ever baptized into it as an adult, but he doesn’t find a seed of objection in himself he’d though he would. The icon he thinks is God looks both mournful and benevolent. All the shining things make Morisuke feel as though he’s looking into a mirror.

The people rustle, whispering among themselves. A stray string instrument sounds, alone and twanging into a silence far greater than itself, and Morisuke almost misses it when the orchestra starts up moments later. He has a headache, the kind that gets worse because he’s so irritated that he has one at all.

He looks down and away from God, straight into the blinding flash of a camera. His only reaction is a slight narrowing of the eyes, the closest he’s come to flinching in years. When the spots clear from his vision, you’re there, an angel from the fresco come to life, a goddess in the church.

Morisuke folds his hands. It feels only right to pray, the way he’s seen it on television, the way some of his teammates do before matches. You stare at him as you walk down the aisle, light playing over your dress in shining bursts that make his head throb harder. He can’t find any bridal tears in your eyes.

He shifts in his dress shoes, fights not to run his hands through his carefully-styled hair. The air-conditioning is too strong, meant to keep a thousand pressed-together people from overheating, or perhaps it’s the winter air leaking in through the great doors. You reach the stairs to the altar, wobbling a little on your first step up, though the movement is so minuscule anyone but him wouldn’t have noticed. Without thinking, Morisuke reaches a hand out to steady you. Your fingers press hard into the flesh of his palm, gripping him bruisingly tight. He can barely pull his hand away fast enough. The music stops, and Morisuke takes in a deep breath, while your chest doesn’t move to inhale or exhale. This is the last moment before you are knotted together irrevocably for life. A groom who hates weddings for a bride who doesn’t cry.

one year, eight months later

If you tilt your head up and almost close your eyes so that you’re looking through your lashes, you can pretend that you’re floating among the stars. You do so, walking backwards, tipping champagne down your throat as you go, trying to envision yourself as a constellation. You’re pretty sure you are one—Morisuke’s gift to you on your birthday, the first one after you’d married. The tabloids had eaten it up. You, watching him board a plane through the social media stories of your so-called friends, hadn’t felt quite as romanced as your picture in the news claimed.

You had forgotten about the constellation. Perhaps it had stuck in your subconscious, though; it was awfully romantic. Perhaps that’s why you had chosen the planetarium as a venue for tonight, though in the light of day it had been the midnight blue velvet and shadowy, domed ceilings that had cinched it for you. But you throw a lot of parties, and you don’t need any more sentiment in your life than what you’re currently suffocating under. You’ll come back on your own, you decide, finishing off your glass and plucking another from the nearest hand to you. You like being lost amongst your guests, freewheeling in space even without oxygen to breathe.

You stumble as you continue your backwards, meandering path through the party. You kick off your shoes, lab-grown crystals chipping off as they bounce. You don’t notice. You’ll buy more. You could buy the whole stupid world, with your husband’s money that he throws at you so he doesn’t have to come home and face you. Your husband who leaves you alone to do whatever you please. Alone, dancing among the stars.

Morisuke was twenty-eight when he proposed to you; you had just turned twenty-two when you said yes. You had been officially seeing each other for three months and acquaintances for nearly a year prior.

The story of your first meeting the interviewers knew was one you and your husband had told many times. A mutual friend had introduced you at a high-profile event and said, blatantly, that the two of you should “make babies.” Morisuke was smooth; you were flirtatious. The story played out like a romantic comedy, ending in a fairytale wedding.

You and he had kept the real story for yourselves, to take out and admire in times of trouble, to tuck away in your pocket like a note between secret lovers.

You were running through a rose-garden maze, eyes over your shoulder, hands fisted in your skirts. He had been walking a perpendicular path to yours (looking for someone else, another lover, you’d later learn) when you had tripped right over him, tumbling head over heels through the flora and into a new sector. Your breath knocked out of you, it was all you could do to stare up at the sky and try to laugh.

“Miss?” He’d called, ducking through the opening, pushing stray rose canes away. “Miss! Are you alright?”

He sounded so formal. You accepted his hand up, but only pulled yourself into a sitting position, trying desperately to catch your breath. He was so handsome, it was making things much harder. Inconsiderate of him, you thought

“I’m fine,” you managed, eventually. “Are you?”

“No more bruised than usual,” he’d returned, teasing. You cocked a brow. “I’m an athlete. I dive face-first onto hardwood floors all day."

For reasons you couldn’t recognize, you’d taken his hand, pushing up the sleeve of his shirt. His forearm toward the elbow had a nasty bruise, as he had said. You ran a careful finger over the discoloration, and he hissed.

“How was my form?”

“Awful,” he said frankly. “But—“ He’d seemed to get lost there, watching the way the sunlight filtered through the clouds and played across your features. With all the raw honesty of someone saying something they hadn’t even known they were thinking, he opened his mouth and said: “I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

On a slight breeze, the petals you’d knocked off drifted around the two of you, catching on his shirt, in your hair. They pooled between you, and when you ducked your head down they were all you could see.

You fell in love during that first meeting.

He never fell in love with you at all.

[mirroringdust]

Lucy works on her listening talent during the black winter and finds an unusual way back to Portland Row. A Lockwood and co fic with mind palace and little lotr vibes 😊

When the skull had first told her about it, she had straight up laughed at him. When he hadn’t stopped telling her more, Lucy had no choice but to listen.

After all, there was little distraction and no one else to talk to during this long, meaningless winter she had barricaded herself in. The flat she had lived in since leaving the place she had called home and the people she had belonged to was just that, flat and devoid of light and any sense of comfort. She just stayed here after a job, ate and waited until the next job could distract her. In all the grey fog she tried not to think about, talking to Skull was actually a delight. And during all those days of brooding and aimless gazing out of the window, she was more than grateful to have someone to talk to. Usually, it was his sarcastic comments that got her through the day, making her laugh and forgetting for a moment that she was far from the place that had brought her joy for the first time in her life. Perhaps the skull had noticed, if a floating skull in a jar could notice such trivial things, but sometimes Lucy thought he knew her better than anyone else and knew what and who she was missing.

He mocked her for it, but lately his words had been more serious than usual. He must have watched her stare into the void once too often, or maybe he was bored by her growing silence, but one day in the cold of that winter, he had told her about the concept for the first time. Surely he had wanted to help her, but after she had laughed, Lucy had just raised an eyebrow.

“Locis anthoenius?”

The green flicker in the jar floated angrily. “Don’t play dumb, you can’t be that language numb. Can’t believe I’m even rhyming now. This requires change!”

“I’m not a hundred years old like you. Please enlighten me.” Lucy replied with a tired look.

There was a sort of eye roll. At least that’s what Lucy could interpret by now.

“Lo-cus A-moe-nus.” The skull emphasised each syllable in her mind as if talking to a little child.

Lucy moved across the bed and closer to the windowsill the jar was standing on.

“And what does that mean?”

“It’s something I've heard of. Maybe I shouldn’t talk about it.”

Now Lucy got curious, which was probably exactly his intention. “I know it’s like you to play around like that, but I’m really not in the mood.”

“You should be. It’s the only thing that might get us out of this senseless hole, if only for a distracting while.”

“This isn’t a hole!” Lucy rose with a look of indignation.

“It's definitely a mess. There are clothes all over this place.”

“It is not!” She narrowed her eyes, adjusted her position on the bed and looked at her room for what must have been the first time in weeks. She swallowed, it really did look horrible. Clothes lying around everywhere, old parcels from deliveries, a couple of used teacups, shoes scattered around and not in pairs, her equipment - and it did not stop there. The chaos in the other place she had escaped from had been somehow charming, but this was far from it. No wonder she was not feeling well. She made a mental note to clean up this mess later and sighed. "Fine. What is this thing?"

The skull didn’t wait a second for his reply, "a kind of concept. Or some kind of sense that can only be furthered by those who are able to listen, and as you’re someone who can talk to me, perhaps you can do it."

"Do what?" she asked, her voice demanding and annoyed, not sure if this conversation would lead anywhere, but if it could bring some colour to this grey mass, what harm could it do? No more than the weight on her shoulders anyway.

"You can return to a place of… joy, that’s how you’d name it. You need to recall a feeling of a place that feels very strong to you, and you need to remember some details." He paused for a moment. "And I know very well which place you'd like to return to."

[Continue on AO3]

[sweet-self-indulgence]

The Incubi and Femboy! Mika

Femboy! Mika

Is pretty exclusively into males, much to his father’s disappointment.

Father would be the kind of guy to try to punish the gay and the feminine out of his son

Taekwondo stems from a demand to become bigger and stronger. Mika tones and can’t bulk, but loves the art form

Cross-dresses for fun sometimes but prefers boymode for daily stuff.

The exception is panties. Mika loathes traditional male underwear and wears panties every day.

Is super into praise, both giving and receiving, and being teased in basically any sense.

Bottom preference

Thinks it’s hot. Loves the feeling. Simply floats his boat.

Capable of topping but in such a subordinate way. This boy cannot be dominant to save his life.

James

Doesn’t have much romantic or sexual experience with males. Was groomed to provide heirs to the throne so his sexual education and expectations were very procreation focused.

Gets off on using his height to intimidate and fluster Mika.

He says “That’s a good little boy”, Mika gets all flustered and suddenly they’re both rock hard

Has a bit of an ‘oh shit I might be into guys’ crisis because it had never really crossed his mind before.

Cue way too much research to compensate

He’s a top.

Definitely never bottomed in the demon world. Could be persuaded to try it, but it doesn’t really do it for him the same way. He likes being in control too much.

Erik

Equally experienced with lots of genders. His mother would have taught him to get energy from all kinds of demons.

But she viewed energy as something you take from someone else, so being penetrated as a male incubus was taboo.

He thinks gender bending clothing is super hot. Especially lacy and silky panties. He loves giving lingerie to Mika and seeing him wear it.

Slight top preference

Is much more comfortable with the social scripts he knows, and toping is no exception.

100% down to try it in the human world. He likes it a lot, but finds it very vulnerable. He would be so overstimulated. It takes a while for him to get comfortable bottoming regularly.

So yeah, bottoming comes with a lot of baggage for Erik so he defaults to top.

Sam

He definitely went through a bit of a slut phase in the demon world and would have some experience with male demons and bottoming for them.

Thinks Mika is super cute. Really bonds with him when he learns about his father’s pressures to be ‘man enough’

Sam is a big ‘ol sap for a sad story

But he is really into people who stand up for themselves.

Top preference

He’s honestly just not that into bottoming. He’s tried it, it’s fine, but is meh on the concept.

And let’s be real, Mika has a tiny frame, he’s not exactly packing the (literal!) monster schlong that Sam is used to.

If Sam’s going to bottom he wants to go hard and it’s going to require an order from Bad Dragon ; )

Matthew

He wouldn’t have had a ton of sexual experience in the demon world. The experience he has would be low commitment flings with a variety of partners.

He wasn’t of age for very long before he became invested in the human world.

Has more experience with humans

He likes being barely larger than Mika. It’s a pleasant hit to his ego.

Mika’s acceptance of his more feminine traits is super endearing and opens up a world for exploration for Matthew

Thinks gender bending is incredibly fun and trys out some GNC stuff.

He learned how to adjust his glamor to look female. Likes having breasts for the express purpose of having them played with during sex and then they go away again lol

He identifies as 100% male but gains a ton of confidence in seeing that male doesn’t have to be one specific thing

True vers

It really just depends on his and his partner’s mood. He’s down for whatever. Likes switching during sex a lot.

Damien

Didn’t really get to experience consensual sexual encounters in the demon world

His relationship with his own sexually it pretty fucked from it

That’s a separate post if y’all want some whump

Has had some experience with humans, but they’ve been pretty awkward for him.

He’s really into people who are into him. Mika’s hot guy radar is very loud in his head and Damien is super into the accidental flattery and how flustered Mika gets about it

Bottom.

One of the ways his sexuality is fucked up is that topping can be triggering for him

Also people’s minds tend to focus more on him when he’s bottoming

He basically gets off to the thought praise

[star-girl69]

Keep Me Ablaze

Jake Sully x Neytiri x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: mentions of death, mentions of war, grief, swearing, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Twenty Two- Keep Me Ablaze

—-

My child,

I do not know you, and maybe I never will. I want nothing more than to be there for you, then to hold you, wipe away your tears- but I count the days like I count each cruel act the world exacts on me. I don’t know you, but I know that you have a piece of something better in you. I don’t know if it’s perhaps a little bit of kindness, or some sort of fire, but I know that you have it and I know that it will help you. You are the best thing I ever did, making you, and I made you perfect, so don’t change what I made. Grow whatever goodness, whatever something better that lies inside of you and know that you will beat this world, my sweet girl. I do not know you, but I love you. I love you.

-Josephine

—-

Grace doesn’t need her mask. Not anymore.

The realization comes fast and quick like a tidal wave, bringing forth a sea of emotions. You want to scream and cry, curl up into a ball and let the storm pass over you. You want to feel better, to jump into the next calm sea, skip this part.

Instead, you watch the reflection of the Spirit Tree in the glass part of her mask. It looks better like this, from above, a mess of colors like an artist took a paintbrush and just said “fuck it.”

Jake stands slowly, his shoulders sagging downwards, arms hanging limp like he holds the weight of her death in his hands. You know he doesn’t. You know he holds your life in his hands, seeing as he’s saved you so many times, and you know he holds the weight of the Omaticaya in his hands.

It is him who can save them, save you, save everything. Neytiri has always been your savior but Jake is the savior of something more.

Neytiri places a hand on your shoulder, and you can barely even feel it, like all of the world is gone. When you don’t move, feeling too unreal, out of your body, her fingers move to wrap around your arm. Another move, another wait for a reaction, for you to break and burn and do whatever you must do. But you don’t.

She takes you into her arms and you still don’t cry, and your chest swirls around too much, a tightness everywhere, but it’s like you can’t even decide what emotion to feel.

You look up at Jake from where you rest your head on Neytiri’s shoulder. You can feel how tight she grips you, like she’s watching you fall and she’s grabbing onto to you, watching you slip. But you don’t slip. You don’t.

Jake’s eyes meet yours through all of it, like an anchor, a lighthouse, because you feel like a ship lost at sea and you need them to bring you home again. Bring you back to them.

Jake swallows. There are a million words on your tongue.

Fix it. Take this pain away. Do something. Make it better. Get me my revenge.

He turns to Tsu’tey.

“With your permission, I will speak now,” he rasps. “You would honor me by translating.”

You watch his back, his braids swing from the movement before falling into place. You watch his queue wave in the wind.

Tsu’tey nods his head forward, eyes closing for just a moment.

“What is he doing?” and it takes you a second to realize the voice is your own. Neytiri kisses the side of your head.

“He is Toruk Makto, my love.”

“The Sky People have sent us a message,” Jake starts, as you realize what he must have done. Why it took him so long to come back for Grace- because he was proving himself to the clan. Because he was becoming the savior you have always know he is.

Tsu’tey’s voice echos him, words in Na’vi that The People hang onto like it is a rope above a chasm.

“That they can take whatever they want and no one can stop them. Well, we will send them a message.” He sways on his feet, like he is ready at any moment to face a whole army. “You ride out as fast as the wind can carry you.”

The People start to stand, whispers floating through the crowd, and Neytiri’s arms fall loose around you, like she is seeing the world in a whole new light- but better for it.

“You tell the other clans to come.” Shouts of encouragement rent the air. “You tell them Toruk Makto calls to them.” He points from himself to the wind, like he can command it all with just one movement, like he is the king and he knows he will rule. “And now you fly with me! My brothers! Sisters! And we will show the Sky People that they cannot take whatever they want, and that this, this our land!”

It is like Jake has taken the world into his hands and breathed life into it, like he has taken the flames and the hearts of The People and kept them ablaze. He keeps you ablaze.

Neytiri helps you to stand, because even though the world is forever changed by him, it will always be marred by Grace. You carry the scars of graves on you like the soil does.

She places her hands on your shoulders, and you blink away tears you didn’t know were still there, a moment longer before you find the strength to meet her eyes.

“I was scared,” she whispers. If you did not know her like you do, you would say she is lying. “For you. For my people. I’m not anymore.”

Her name is on the tip of your tongue, but memories sting and nothing in this moment feels quite right. You want to tell her what you need, you want her to help you- but you do not know what you need. You do not know if you even can be helped.

Her face breaks out into the most loving smile, and she leans forward quickly, pecking your nose like she did all those nights ago when you were still just friends. The sounds of the people cheering fade to nothing.

“We will avenge her, my Y/N, we will-” she goes to say more, but you silence her by pressing your lips to hers. It’s sweet and short, because the world comes back the closer you are to her, the more she keeps you ablaze and keeps you alive, and the rising crowd distracts you.

“I See you,” you whisper, and your voice breaks with the emotion you pour into it. She looks down for a moment and breathes in heavily.

Jake turns towards the two of you, chest heaving from his speech and the emotion and the loss, but he must feel something in the air, see something in your faces, so he doesn’t say anything.

Neytiri looks back up to your eyes, breathes in deeply and grabs Jake’s hand.

“I know- I know that you are hurting, I know how it feels- but do not let yourself think you will burn out. We will keep you ablaze.”

“You will-” the words feel foreign on your tongue, but you know the weight they carry with them. “Keep me ablaze?”

“We will keep you ablaze.” But it’s not Neytiri who speaks, it’s Jake, and they are your saviors and everything you have ever wished for. He stares so deeply into your eyes, and you have never felt the meaning of the phrase “I See you” more than you do now, with their eyes on you like this. “Come,” he whispers, and calls out into the air like Neytiri taught you.

He grabs your hand and Neytiri grabs your other, and the soft moss makes you sink into the ground with each step, but you don’t stop. You move forward, and Toruk lands in front of you with a mighty roar, shaking the ground.

It doesn’t hurt to leave Grace’s body behind. You understand now that she is with Eywa- that your mother is with Her, your father. And Eywa is everything- so they are everywhere.

They are the air you breathe, the clothes you wear, the water you drink. They are the around beneath your feet and they are you.

It is easy to leave her behind, to leave your sadness behind, to fly forward into the fire. You can do what she said. You can follow the fire.

Jake’s hand drops from yours, and he jumps up to Toruk, sitting and making shahaylu. Neytiri holds you back for a moment, before her hand drops and you suddenly run forward up his extended wing, and the memories of him chasing you flare in your mind.

But Jake is there. Neytiri is there.

Jake’s hand meets yours midair, and he pulls you up the rest of the way, so you can wrap your arms around his waist and lean forward, feel the heat that rolls off his back. Is it anger? Excitement?

Neytiri climbs on behind you, wrapping around you herself, and when she leans forward- you still feel that same heat.

You do not care what is it. Maybe it is a speck of sun, a stray piece of a star. You just know they love you, they see you, feel you, know you.

You just know they will keep you ablaze.

—-

taglist:

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everything taglist:

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[colourstreakgryffin]

Heya! Me again!

So can you do a non-yandere tanjiro X spirit! reader? (Platonic)

(Spirit is just like ghost, floats and can go through objects anytime they want to and also can stand or touch soiled objects when they want, basically like sabito and makomo)

(Tanjiro can see the reader for some reason and thought they were alive until the reader reveals that they are already dead)

So basically, the reader's dead BY THE MUZAN JACKSON and their spirit can't be free yet until muzan dies.

Reader met tanjiro in the final selection.

Knowing that Tanjiro also wants to kill Muzan for killing his family, the reader goes with him on his journey as a ghost helper

(And reader can stay in the sun)

(Nezuko can see the reader yes but no one else can)

The reader helps tanjiro points out the demon next moment, weakness, and abilities. They also help Tanjiro train by being his target. And sometimes helps find blue spider lilies so nezuko can go back to human. And help alert Tanjiro if a demon is nearby that he can't scent/see. And also help lead tanjiro the way if they got lost.

(Their relationship is just like friends)

IM REALLY SORRY IF THIS IS LONG- I just never seen someone do a spirit reader before (╥﹏╥)

Hmm. Interesting, a platonic ghost reader! Cool! Why not, Tanjiro has experiences with ghosts! Kinda short, hope you don’t mind!

Platonic! Kamado Tanjiro

Tanjiro is a compassionate boy so anybody willing to help him is very appreciated! He tries to refuse you since he doesn’t want to pile his problems onto you, but he just can’t be rude and try shoo you away. He will let you join

For a long time, he doesn’t know that you’re a vengeful spirit until he catches you using your intangibility to feel for Nezuko’s box. After he couldn’t find it, you decided to help him and didn’t really bother to hide your ghostly abilities

When you tell him about what happened with Muzan, his righteous heart breaks for you. He isn’t just slaying Kibutsuji Muzan and finding a cure of transformation for himself and Nezuko, he’s doing it for all the people in Japan so nobody else will suffer like he and her sister has!

Tanjiro isn’t scared of you, he mourns for you. He can’t find your body or bury you, all he can really do is take your word and let you accompany him on his quest, in which he happily does. You deserve to be at peace and he won’t stop until he finishes the job

Tanjiro felt like he’s gained a life companion, he met you early. At the Final Selection in-fact and you helped him by whispering the demon he faced abilities/weaknesses in his head, like you had telepathy. He has found it very helpful since it gives him more opportunity

Tanjiro trusts you to take care of Nezuko and hold her in her box. You can be solid at will and since you’re safe in the sun, there is no reason he shouldn’t hand that responsibility to you whenever he sees fit so he doesn’t have to worry about Nezuko

Tanjiro is so thankful for the help, he always is and he feels obligated to pay you back for your kindness. You even help train him the best you can, advising on the in-depths of his training so he can get a better grasp of it. He feels so spoiled with you

Tanjiro’s heart pings when he sees you and Nezuko playing. You’re, once again, helping remove pressure of your dear friend’s back, by taking care of and entertaining his only sibling, who thankfully can see you too where nobody else can. He honestly just wants to give you a fat kiss as a thank you, he can’t even express how happy he is

You’re basically his continuous little helper and he simply adores it; alerting him to the presences of demons you can sense that he doesn’t, leading him when he’s lost and at random, you being home Blue Spider Lillies. Tanjiro doesn’t know the meaning behind them so he just makes a bouquet out them

Tanjiro never treats you differently to all his other friends. He sadly can’t give you any of his food and he doesn’t need to be concerned about your health, but at least he can still emotionally support you and make you feel that warm spout of the Tanjiro Effect that everybody he meets feels

Tanjiro likes including you in everything he and Nezuko does since, to him, you deserve it. So when he finishes braiding Nezuko’s hair, he’ll invite to sit down before him so he can braid yours. Just so you feel apart of the group, he wants you to feel beloved

Tanjiro has grown to see you as a younger sibling, even though, you’re no longer with him. He has grown attached and he naturally feels concern when you disappear into the wall to find something for him. You’ll come back, but that doesn’t mean he can’t worry for his surrogate sibling

Tanjiro cries heavily when he sees you disappear once Muzan is finally beheaded, but he completely understands that you can’t stay any longer. You must move on to the afterlife, and he will never forget you. He is eager to meet you in heaven, when he finally kicks the bucket himself

“D-Dokusha! Wait! Where are you going? You’re gonna go find Inosuke? Thank you! But please, be careful. I-I mean… I know you’ll be fine, but please. Still be careful! Your safety is important to me! I’ll be fine, you just be safe”

[liexwrittesfreely]

Sea

(Long post)

I’m in the open sea

when I wanna be the sea.

Like a little yellow boat stranded

nowhere.

But I wanna be a part of

the water,

and the fish,

and whatever is in between:

Just a jellyfish.

Floating.

Floating somewhere,

with not a care in the world.

I won’t feel pain.

I won’t need pain.

I’ll float and float

until I die.

And when I do,

it wouldn’t be any different

than being alive.

I want a sea

to flow from my mouth.

It can be

Red

or Yellow.

Just whatever makes sense.

And I want people

to be afraid

of the deep oceans.

Be with me

stranded at sea.

I am just tired

of taking it in

and then

keeping it in.

You will look beside yourself

and you will see my red eyes

glittering back at you

like I’m a bunny

and you're a wolf.

But your eyes are red

and I’m not scared.

I’ll tell you

how much you mean to me

and that I’ll be your meat.

Then feel the grass

to become it,

feel the sun through it.

You’re too sweet for me

But my stomach can’t handle it.

I want salt.

Oh,

how your tears look salty.

Darling, don’t you love me?

Won’t you cry for me?

I’d die for you.

Oh honey

on a summer day.

You’re not the sun

but you’ll be my food.

C’mon, I'm your bee.

Yellow

and Orange

and even Red,

those are your true colors.

And I’m stripped.

Behind the bars,

of our bedroom.

Not yours but mine,

another us.

I stand stuck

afraid of falling.

From a cliff

I look at the ocean.

While he years

I’m scared of drowning.

Tumbling on the ocean floor

isn’t fun,

I’m scared and bruised,

even my knees leek.

I’m black and blue

so you hurt too,

so hurt too,

Yet when it’s all in my head

and the pictures are fine,

am I the liar?

Can I keep the themes?

Your attention?

Can I know you?

A reader,

while I’m not a writer?

Am I someone?

Or are all of us

just some jellyfish

roaming with the tides.

But we have brains

and I wonder if it screams.

You and me,

I’m not you.

I’ve (never) understood

I can’t be you.

I can’t be us,

We aren’t the same.

I have my brains

while they float

somewhere that

does not belong to me.

I have the floor

while some cold feet

yearn for the ground,

body cold

with no more hope.

Hope for the best,

accept the worst.

Yearn for something

you can’t have.

Dive deep,

find nothing near.

Bury beauty

before it decays

and becomes an eyesore.

Do I confuse you?

Do I amuse you?

When you read,

Do you see you as me?

And then

who is ‘you’?

If you understand so well

when will you explain?

When will these feelings

run from my brain,

dropping,

melting like ice cream?

They are still stuck

Like bubblegum.

All pink.

Start with blue,

end with pink.

Is there any symbolism

in the words I speak?

Can they be spoken

when they feel so unprompted…?

Am I the voice in your head?

The food you ate,

The meat in your plate?

When the natural feels so unnatural.

When the body betrays.

And you feel scared.

Afraid of life.

Afraid of taking.

Taking their life.

Who’d you kill?

Are we all mindless?

What do jellyfish eat?

Do they know?

Are we like them?

Have we lost our respect?

I throw you away,

the meat on my plate,

yet I kiss you goodbye

when I’ve never hugged,

scared of being hurt.

When you took the eggs

for the babies to hatch

ending up

ending them all.

Kindness isn't enough.

Is their beauty in the world,

in my words?

In your salty tears,

I can not tell you you’re beautiful

when you cry

cuz if I’m honest

it’s mighty

Unsightly.

Cry me an ocean

for us to swim in.

For me to get lost in.

For all of this to end.

To get lost in

[celandeline]

Summer of Like // Farleigh Start x OC (23)

If there’s one thing you can say about the Cattons, it’s that they know how to throw a party. 

The extravagance is overwhelming - hundreds of people are scattered about the grounds and in the house, all dressed to the nines in midsummer night’s fashion. Glitter seems to float in the air from how the strobe lights flash pinks and blues into the night, catching on every slightly reflective surface and amplifying tenfold. Though it's been hours since the sun disappeared behind the maze, the heat of the day still lingers, trapped between all the sweaty bodies. On the lake, lotus shaped lights drift with the breeze. 

Music blasts through the grounds, and Venetia hasn’t let go of my hand since the crowds first started rolling in. It feels like Cambridge again - the dancing, the drinking, the way that it’s just us in a sea of people, laughing and smiling and shouting at each other over the music. It’s a high on it’s own - though there’s copious amounts of coke if I wanted any.

A man bumps into Venetia and sends her stumbling into me, gripping onto my shoulders for dear life. Still dancing, she turns as the man leans down to apologize, picking up my arms and wrapping them around her middle. I rest my head on her shoulder as the man retreats, and our dance renews, swaying and grinding to the beat. 

We simply dance for a while, until Venetia tips her head back to speak into my ear. “I need another drink!”

I press a wet kiss to her cheek before letting go. “I’ll catch you later?” 

“Always.” She says, winking at me before sauntering off towards the house, her spiderweb dress like a string of prisms in the night. 

I reach down to adjust my own dress - a strapless sheer thing peppered with strategically placed peaseblossoms to cover all my bits. Left alone, the craving for a cigarette hits me, and I wander off the dancefloor in search of something to smoke. 

Even off the dancefloor, the crowds are thick. I wish Venetia had chosen something a little more substantial for me to wear - something, preferably, with a place for me to store a pack of cigs and a lighter - but I can’t pretend that my dress isn’t simultaneously the sexiest and prettiest thing I’ve ever worn. And, this quest for a cig will be a chance to meet some new people that I’ll likely never see again - a favorite pastime of mine. 

The squeeze past a gaggle of girls all dressed as fairies, following the scent of smoke. I spot the burn of a cherry in the throng, and cut through the crowd until I’m standing in front of a guy that I don’t know on the edge of the crowd. In the distance, a fire flickers on the lawn, a pig slowly rotating over the flames. 

His eyes sweep over me, and he grins around his cigarette. “Hi.”

“Hi.” I return, putting out a hand to shake. “I’m Evelyn.”

He takes my hand, and shakes it twice. “James.” He says. “What can I do for you Evelyn?”

“I was looking for someone willing to give a pretty girl a cigarette.” I say, batting my eyelashes at him. “Are you my guy?”

He laughs. “I’d be willing, for a price.”

“What kind of price?” I ask. There’s no world in which I have sex with this man for a cigarette, but I’m curious to see where this goes.

“I’ll give you a cigarette,” He steps closer, narrowing the distance between us and pulling his cigarette out of his mouth. “If you give me a kiss.”

I grin. “Sure.” 

Tilting my head slightly upwards, I plant a kiss on his waiting lips. It’s too wet, and he slips his tongue in too early, and it makes me miss Farleigh. Farleigh knew how to kiss. 

James pulls back, and digs a cigarette out of his pocket, handing it to me. I press the end to his to light it, and tuck it between my lips, sucking greedily. 

“So.” James says. “You wouldn’t happen to know who’s birthday it is, would you?”

“Oliver.” I say. “Little guy, about my height, big blue eyes. I’m sure you’ll see him around at some point.”

“Oliver.” James rolls the name over his tongue. “I don’t know him.”

“He’s a friend of Felix’s.” I say. “From Oxford.”

James hums, placing his cigarette back between his lips. “I used to go to school with Felix, when we were both in secondary school.”

I nod along, my eyes drifting away from him and back towards the flickering fire in the distance. Two silhouettes stand in front of the flames, one with antlers coming out of his head - Oliver - and the other, tall with a halo of curls…

I watch the taller silhouette bend down, getting in Oliver’s face. It can’t be anyone else. It can’t. 

I turn back to James. “I’m really sorry, I just saw someone-”

His gaze flicks over to the fire, and then back to me. “It’s fine.” He cuts me off. “You’re not really my type anyway. I don’t make a habit of fucking Americans.”

I only acknowledge the comment by flipping him off as I slip away, making a beeline for Farleigh. The walk to the open fire isn’t long, and it’s made even shorter by the speed at which I dash over. He stands up from Oliver, and I catch the sour look on Oliver’s face as he stalks away, back towards the house. I breeze past him.

“Farleigh.” 

He turns, his face splitting into a grin when he sees me. “Eves.” He drops the head of his costume in favor of sweeping me up into a hug. He squeezes me for a moment before he realizes what he’s doing and sets me back down. “Sorry.” He says, sheepish. “I just- sorry.”

I can’t help but giggle. “No, it’s okay. It’s so good to see you. It’s been so boring without you here, I missed you.”

He smiles. “You make a girl blush, Eves.” 

“So did you sneak in, or..?” I prompt, raising my eyebrows. 

“Believe it or not, I was actually invited.” He says. “They just can’t resist my boyish charm.” 

“Is that what it’s called?” I tease. 

“That’s what I call it.” He says, dipping two fingers into his sleeve and pulling out a little baggy of white powder. He reaches down, grabbing one of my hands and shaking a line of powder onto the back before running his nose along the skin and hoovering it up. I watch, wide eyed, as he licks up the excess, never breaking eye contact with me. 

Letting go of my hand, he wipes his nose, and jiggles the little baggy. “You want some? It’s pure - I made sure.” 

“Why not?” I say, taking the baggy from him. He holds out his hand, and I do what he just did, shaking a line across the back of his palm and snorting it up. Only, instead of running my tongue over his hand, I simply look at him. “Go on. Lick.”

Pupils blown wide - from the coke or my words, I don’t know - he licks the back of his hand, swallowing the rest of the powder. 

“Where's Venetia?” He asks. 

I glance behind me, back towards the manor house. “Dunno. She went to go get a drink a while ago. Probably throwing herself at Ollie by now.” I look back at him. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Just wondering if she was going to tug on your leash anytime soon.” He says. 

“Farleigh.” I give him a look.

Undeterred, he continues. “Since she’s left you, how about hanging out with me?”

I grin, stepping closer to him. “I’d like nothing more.”

< previous part | next part >

[leavingdeadgirl1996]

not a lore ask but since you seem to want to ramble: 1 song you associate with each character and why?

Hi anon ily. I did 2 for the first few sorrgy

Lori:

1. Sin Eater by Penelope Scott. The song displays a strong desire to be good from the singer while also expressing a bit of disdain for someone who seems to be better in every way (and is, fittingly, referred to as the “holy mother god”) while also evidently seeking validation from this person that they feel they won’t or can’t get.

Notable lyrics: “you’re the holy mother god and I aspire to your goodness, but the only thing I have inside to offer is a pit / I suffer just to moan, I scratch my itches to the bone / I keep confessing till I hit the spot from which the guilt emits”

2. I Don’t Smoke by Mitski. Again leading into Lori’s longing to do good and be good, to have friends, to be closer to people. Trying too hard for someone distant.

Notable lyrics: “if you need to be mean, be mean to me / I can take it and put it inside of me / if your hands need to break more than trinkets in your room / you can lean on my arm as you break my heart”

Cody:

1. Habits by Tove Lo. Though Cody doesn’t do drugs (this detail is irrelevant and thus subject to change) or have any addiction issues, the song all in all encompasses the life of someone whose every second is spent trying to find even a moment of happiness, living in a daze trying to forget someone they can’t think about.

Notable lyrics: “spend my days locked in a haze, tryna forget you babe, I fall back down / gotta stay high all my life to forget I’m missing you”

(See also: So Numb by TX2)

2. Gross by Penelope Scott. The song is about a breakup, partially, but I also relate Cody to the other end of it, being about the complicated nature of relationships with people around you when you’re mentally ill and being torn between wanting to push those who love you away and wanting to be able to love and show love to them.

Notable lyrics: “I hate it most when they’re kind, when they have meaningful lives / and I’m the awful one standing next to them” & “I’m never gonna feel good again, I’ve played this game through to the end / I’ll pull the plug or I’ll wait it out, but I don’t need you around / I wish I never met you, I wish I wasn’t a waste / I wish I had the guts to fuck my own life up or the heart to set myself straight”

Jane Doe:

1. Pure as a Lamb by Baby Bugs. While it is about abuse specifically in a religious setting, its depiction of abuse and the specific sort of feeling of betrayal expressed makes me think of her. Not to mention the rather simple language used reminds me of Jane, who was between 5 and 10 and, though she was very good at reading and writing, didn’t speak in especially complex language.

Notable lyrics: “you plucked my petals, just like the devil would do / and if I’m going to hell, I hope that you go too” & “now I feel dirty, look what you did / I wasn’t an object, I was a kid / I’m scarred and mangled, I am used / and all of this because of you”

2. The Ballad of Jane Doe from Ride the Cyclone. While the song goes into how that Jane Doe doesn’t know who she is or the life she lived, that’s not true of my Jane Doe, but the song does go into the plight of a dead girl whose story is left unknown, never to be mourned or remembered.

Notable lyrics: “I’ve got no celebration / just this consolation: / time eats all his children in the end” & “a melody floats through the air / when silence falls, does no one care? / another sad, forgotten tune / another song that no one knows / so that's how it goes”

The Thing:

1. Monster Truck by Jazmin Bean. Angry as fuck song, pretty violent, but all of Jazmin’s stuff matches an aesthetic and a type of music I associate with The Nursery.

Notable lyrics: “I don’t wanna eat the sun (succubus, fuck, suck you straight to the tomb) / I’ve been living on the run (white lined chalk, take it straight to the dome, dome)” & “make it hard, rocket launcher, fuck / fuck your dirt bike, I’ve got a monster truck” & “and this world is a sick fucking joke, just masters and puppets and mirrors and smoke / so fuck it, let’s light it, let’s to / I’m playing with fire, I’m planning to blow”

2. Brutus by The Buttress. Specifically encompasses its relationship to Lori.

Notable lyrics: “my name is Brutus and my name means heavy, so with a heavy heart I’ll guide this dagger into the heart of my enemy / my whole life you were a teacher and friend to me / please know my actions are not motivated only by envy / I too have a destiny / this death will be art / the people will speak of this day from near and afar / this event will be history, and I’ll be great too / I don’t want what you have, I wanna be you”

Emily:

1. Heaven Says. Specifically the Deltarune remix, but I saw a FAITH animation for the song and I’ve associated it with her since

Notable lyrics: “heaven is above / heaven is the answer / life is terror / blood in the machine, you are in danger” & “greater than life / stronger than death / echo around the world / search for the end / answer for your crimes / beg for mercy / take back you control / take back your control / take back your control, control, control, control, control-”

2. Christmas Kids by ROAR. Idk.

Notable lyrics: “the Christmas kids were nothing but a gift / and love is a tower where all of us can live / you change your name or change your mind / and leave this fucked up place behind / but I’ll know / I’ll know”

Sarah Warner:

Class Fight by Melanie Martinez. Sarah was a girl who tended to act out a lot, but always felt totally justified in everything she did and like she was giving people what they deserved when she lashed out or was otherwise doing something good/funny/right.

Notable lyrics: “I wanted to be in her shoes for one day / I just waited till recess to make her pay” & “her face was fucked up and my hands were bloody / we were in the playground, things were getting muddy / the teacher broke us up after I broke her / and my one true love called me a monster”

I don’t have any for the other specific victims but I do have one for all of them:

Fall Fair Suite (the opening) from Ride the Cyclone. All of them dying in “accidents” just makes me think of the RTC kids’ reactions to the accident that killed them, and I think they’d feel similarly.

Notable lyrics: the whole thing, more or less.

[the-haunted-office]

Cyrus, Aurora, Timmy, Thisday, and Doomsday are all gathered around what appears to be a black void floating in the middle of the room with two doors. It first showed up about a week prior and was then approximately the size of a golf ball. It has since expanded to the size of your average shower curtain. Definitely noticeable by any passersby and by the folks who live there and walk through this area on a regular basis. It especially stands out against the background of white walls and ugly puke orange carpet.

“Well, I’ve tried shouting into it, but nothing happens,” Doomsday says as she floats around it, inspecting it from all angles.

(The rest is below the cut due to gore and other possible triggers. Please see the tags before proceeding!)

“It’s a void. What did you expect? All you’ve managed to achieve is to make the rest of us go deaf,” Cyrus scoffs. Were he in his human form right now he’d be rolling his eyes and crossing his arms. As he is currently in his Nightcrawler form, all he does is shake his head back and forth.

“Says the guy who talks directly into people’s heads,” the Reaper scoffs in return. She would also roll her eyes and cross her arms at her, but lacking actual eyeballs all she does is cross her arms.

“Right, thus not affecting your ear drums, unlike the rest of us whenever you decide it’s time to utterly scream at this- thing,” Cyrus retorts.

“Well, I for one don’t want anything to do with it,” Aurora interjects. She is a Nightcrawler as well, and is standing well away from the black mass. “I think we need to figure out a way of getting rid of it. It’s giving me bad vibes.”

Thisday suddenly pipes up with an unexpected suggestion. “I think I should try shouting into it.”

“Oh, not you too-” Cyrus begins to complain before being cut off by Doomsday.

“Excellent idea, ehehehe. I mean, Thursday and I have both been hit by lightning and thrown in jail, whereas Thisday hasn’t. And now I’ve shouted into a void, but Thursday hasn’t. Thisday, this is your opportunity to shine, ehehehehe.”

Cyrus shakes his head again. “What the hell kind of logic is that? That doesn’t make any sense.”

 “What are you talking about? It makes perfect sense,” Doom says.

“Oh, right, I forgot - this must be that idiot logic that only makes sense to you Days.”

“I- I don’t think you should touch it, Thisday,” Timmy speaks up, his voice small and nervous but enough to be heard. “I’m with Aurora - I think we should leave it alone or- or try to figure out how to get rid of it.”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry, I won’t touch it. I’m just going to shout into it.” Thisday cracks his knuckles as he steps closer to the dark mass. It doesn’t move or do anything other than exist. It certainly doesn’t give off any impression of being intelligent or anything other than a thing that exists for no discernible reason.

“Ugh. Well in that case, I want nothing more to do with this,” Cyrus grumbles. He turns to walk away as Thisday leans into the void, grinning like the fool that he is. He strides through the door on the left and is about to make his way back up to the control booth when a piercing cry that is abruptly cut off and replaced with other piercing cries stops him.

Whirling around, the older Narrator comes running back onto the scene to see... probably one of the most horrific things he’s ever seen in his 250 odd years of life.

There’s a faceless body on the floor. Not faceless in the sense that there’s a head with no face on it, like all the features are smoothed over with skin. It’s faceless as in there’s a hole where a face used to be and is oozing blood and gray brain matter all over the ugly orange carpet.

Cyrus can’t be too sure, but he’s fairly certain it’s Thisday’s faceless body. The face missing, of course, makes it difficult to identify, but seeing as Cyrus was there just a few seconds prior, he’s quite certain that dark blue shirt and pants the body is wearing belong to Thisday. Unless someone else ran into here and changed into Thisday’s clothes in the last few seconds, that has to be him.

Timmy has fainted. Doomsday is just staring in shock. Aurora is needlessly kneeling by Thisday’s body as if trying to see whether or not he is still alive. Cyrus catches a glimpse of the mess pooling out of the absence of what used to be Thisday’s face, that gaping hole where there used to be a friendly (if not stupid) smile and even friendlier (if not stupider) gray-blue eyes and is instead now exposing bits of bone and flesh and areas of the face that should not be visible from the outside, and knows that the young man is dead.

Doomsday is still in shock. All she has to say is, “Holy shit...”

Thankfully it isn’t too long before Thisday respawns - back in his own office, but no worse for the wear. Except one thing - he won’t be shouting into any voids from now on.

[ndantalion]

Applying for this Job Also Felt like a Good Idea at the Time

In my ear, I hear a whisper, “Come with me.” I’m not sure if I can obey. My feet are stuck on the marble floor, but she’s likely traveling in a direction other than the real. I laboriously bridge the gap between our minds with woven clouds. “Tracey,” I communicate, “I can’t be tripping on shift.”

I shake my head to dispel the whole construction. “I’m sorry,” I tell the customer in front of my little desk. “Could you repeat that?”

“I didn’t say anything?” He’s a middle-aged man with a small girl (his daughter?) clinging to his shoulder. The notion strikes me that this might be a sad one.

A dove with a message tied to its leg starts clawing at my brain. Boss says it’s important.

Customer says, “I need a spell for my wife.” Then, presumably, watches me pass out on the floor.

I can never get used to existing simultaneously. I scramble to standing but just can’t orient myself to not feel horizontal, or stop twitching my face where it’s pressed against the marble. “What’s wrong?” I ask the void either in front of or perhaps above me.

The world forms into being, a professional sort of business office. Tracey is here too, and we exchange a look. No sign of our boss.

Someone else is here, though, a woman in a suit with impossibly straight hair. “We’ve concluded our investigation into this business,” she says.

“Business?” Tracey takes the lead. Good, because really I don’t want to. “This is a temple.”

The woman knows damn well what we are. “Quite a large income for a temple.”

“Lots of temples raise funds for upkeep.”

“You know this goes well beyond upkeep.”

“A god can have lavish needs.” Oh look, it’s Boss, just waiting for the right moment. He sounds pretty rough, but in the way you’d only notice if you knew him. He’s wearing his last nice suit and it barely contains him. I don’t mean to sound admiring. Gods are always whatever they are to the utmost, and what he is isn’t strictly good or bad but it is undeniably a lot. It’s hard to put into words what it feels like to be around him, but the best I’ve got is it’s something like when you’re drunk and have a very bad idea that feels like a very good one.

The woman frowns at him. I wonder if she has ever been drunk in her life. “We found no evidence any of this temple’s income going towards acts of appeasement. What we suspect, of course, is that the money was used to fund followers.”

“There’s no record because the money went to illegal drugs. I say ‘illegal,’ but since they’re part of my godly domain, I don’t follow mortal jurisdiction. The only followers I pay are my two employees, who I pay for work, not worship.”

It’s not like we hadn’t floated the drugs idea. Like, maybe if you got people hooked enough, they’d count as followers and the godly domain thing would make it a non-issue. But we all felt kind of gross about it even besides the part where it probably wouldn’t work, and went for the direct route. We just thought we’d hidden it better.

“We’ve investigated.” The woman taps a book lying next to her on the table. “No drug deals of that size, and several ‘followers’ with unaccounted-for wealth. You’re selling miracles and paying for worship.”

Boss sighs, and shrugs, and so they take it all down. When I pick myself back off the floor in reality, all his symbols are gone—no chalices, no bulls. Violet light streams through the stained glass, as always, but leaves no recognizable shape. That seems to be where Boss is staring.

Tracey says, “I’m getting a better job.” And I think I see Boss visibly go paler as his follower count got cut in half.

“Good luck,” he says, distantly, when she’s half out the door. Then it’s quiet for a while.

He turns to me, eventually. “It seems you still believe.”

“I’m the last one,” I say. “If I stop, isn’t that kind of like murdering you?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “I’ve already had more time than I deserve.”

I choose to ignore him. “It will be fifty years if we’re lucky, Might be enough time to get back on your feet.”

“Fifty years to fuck around, more like it. I’m not even sure if I liked being on my feet.”

“Wish we actually had those drugs,” I say. He heartily agrees.

[creators-novel]

Straus, even on his own, has no trouble sheering through the rest of Voidverse. Further and further down he goes, until he arrives at the very bottom. Here, nothing from the outside shines through: no more glowing rocks, no floating lights, it is absolutely empty. If not for the natural glint of his magic, Straus wouldn’t be able to see the way forward. But he presses on. And finally, within the silence of it all,

“There you are, Vyz.”

He turns to face Straus slowly, with his hands behind his back, “…I figured they all wouldn’t last long, not with you around.”

“You knew all those servants of yours would die?”

“I see it as a punishment for standing around while you all managed to breach our home. But it matters not now. That little Cosmic family gave us all the time we needed. In just a few short hours, the Multiverse will go dark… We could have done this together, Straus. We could have gotten back at those who have wronged us. You would have shown them how wrong they were to judge us- “

“God, do you hear yourself? Do you ever get tired of thinking so irrationally like this?”

“…What?”

“I get it. You had it just as bad as I did, or worse. But I’m not going to make a worse name for myself by hurting people who don’t deserve it. It’s murder. I know what it feels like to do that. And it hurts. So. Bad. … I’m lucky I had the people in my life to steer me in the right direction.”

Right on time, the rest of the group appears.

Vyz sighs, “Hmm… it’s such a waste of energy to preserve these lives when you only need yourself.”

Koto steps forward, “It’s more wasteful to keep hiding yourself away, causing all this pain, without searching for any good in the world. There must have been someone out there who treated you with kindness before all of this happened, right?”

A hush… then a crackling, sharp electricity rises from Vyz’s hands, and he looks at everyone with bright, glowing orange and yellow eyes.

“What…a load…of GARBAGE!”

WHOOSH! Vyz’s aura erupts from all around him; it feels like a cyclone, the gusts of chilling airing pushing everyone back and cutting against their flesh like many small blades.

Exisite tries to keep his balance as others are knocked prone, “Ngh-! This is crazy!” Uriel flies against the current, trying to stay close to everyone, “Aargh! Hang…on!!” “Try to stay standing, and keep your guards up!”, Koto calls to the others. But it’s no use. With another shout, Vyz reels his arms forward and claps, sending everyone except Straus and Koto away with a harsh blast of wind. “NO!!”, Koto yells. She then grits her teeth as she tries to keep her footing, “Straus-! What do we do?!”

Straus reaches for Koto’s hand and keeps her steady, “The only thing we can do. Fight.”

Koto grasps his hand, “Right, no holding back now!”

“Let’s get to it!”

A swirl of indigo and blue magic surrounds the siblings and blasts outward, subduing Vyz’s storm for now. The two stand shoulder to shoulder in their Divine forms, awaiting his next move.

Vyz pauses, then holds his head, “It really is such a disappointment, Straus. The things we could have done together… I wish you could have seen things my way.”

“Like I would ever.”, Straus retorts. “I don’t dream of causing such a ruckus, like you seem to. I can’t say that whoever hurt you in the past doesn’t deserve it. But that’s just it, it’s in the past. There’s nothing you or I can do in the present to change it; except keep marching forward, try to move on, and accept yourself for who you are. Something they couldn’t do.”

Vyz charges towards the duo without a second thought, they all summon their weapons and clash against each other with titanic strength. “It’s not too late!”, says Koto, “You can still end this and change for the better!”

“It’s way too late.”, says Vyz, decidedly.

“Then I guess…”, Straus kicks Vyz’s stomach sending him back, “You’ll have to save yourself. If you don’t end this…we will.”

Thus begins the battle that decides the future of the Multiverse. Every hit, every strike between these three rings out like bells tolling the end of days. Their powers explode into an array of colors that fade just as fast; only comparable to millions of stars being born and quickly succumbing to the darkness that continues to lurch forward on its endless march towards entropy. The fabric of everything shutters as countless attacks connect. Light, dark, light, dark, light, dark… it flashes and blinks between each other. Just. One. Strike. And it would all be done, the scale would shift against the weight of it all, and the fate of all things would be decided. It feels eternal, yet, it only lasts a few minutes; and the victor becomes clear.

Light, dark, light, dark, light…light…

Vyz is able to finds that perfect moment. His body moves without him even thinking about it, pure instinct takes hold of him. One strike and Koto and Straus are flung away. Every time their bodies hit the ground, more and more of their strength is chipped away.

It’s dark.

He’s got them cornered. Koto can barely pull herself up. Straus has just enough left in him to look up and wipe the sweat and tears from his face. Vyz heaves, and breathlessly walks towards them.

“…Do you two finally understand what it means to suffer in this world as I have? We are not welcome here! But this time…”, he holds out a hand, charging a beam to end them, “In my new world, we will teach those fools who’s wrong…”

BANG!

Vyz recoils and holds a hand over his chest. He’s been shot, but by who? Straus helps Koto sit up and the two look behind them. Their eyes adjust…there’s Red…and Exisite…and…!

“hhh…YOU’RE the one who’s wrong!”

Koto gasps, “DARKCLAW!”

Straus feels his emotions swell, he reaches out to his friend, not noticing that Vyz is dashing toward them. Just as he’s about to go for them again, Red rushes him and slams a flaming fist into his jaw, causing him to ricochet away for a bit longer. She then goes to help Straus and Koto back to their feet, “We made it! Are you two ok?” Straus falls into Red’s arms and embraces her, relieved, “Yeah… and DarkClaw, I thought you were staying home.” He smirks, “There’s no way I’m missing this.” “The others are fine, too.”, says Exisite, “They’re staying back to keep watch, and to look after Koto’s family.” Koto nods in understanding, “Thank you, all of you… now more than ever, it’ll take all of our strength to defeat him!” Red confidently smiles, and with a graceful wave of her hand, she activates BlaziCrimson, “Then let’s give it to him.” DarkClaw stretches, and a pulse of energy courses through him, “It’s up to us now.”

Vyz once again makes his aura flare out. Somehow, it’s just as strong as before, but this time there’s something more sinister about it. “You bothersome pests…!”, he growls; and as he does his teeth sharpen into predatory fangs. Rearing back, spikes grow from his spine. His eyes split, becoming four; and he hisses as he hunches over. Whatever humanity he had left, it was far gone by now.

“I’LL JUST SQUASH YOU ALL!”

[axewieldingloverboy]

Conversations with the past.

I wake up in a dream where I stand in a forest I used to spend time in, now nothing but wreckage. I am alone with my younger self who desperately clings to me and begs me not to leave. We stand amongst the rubble, ash floating in the dark skies. I push him to the ground, in a ruthless attempt to get him off of me, but he grabs my leg.

“We can’t go. You can’t leave. I’m not done here yet.” He pleads as he scrambles to drag me back into the destroyed woods that once stood so tall. It was much smaller, and weaker, than I remembered.

And I can’t seem to get him to understand that there’s nothing left for him here. I know I am doing nothing but betraying myself, but still I will attempt to walk away from the boy I once was. He sits defeated, watching me as I walk away.

“You can pretend to be kind, but look at you. Change all you want, but I’ll know what you are. I’ll know what you’ve done.” Venom and spark spew from his gnashing tongue. “You’re just like our father.”

I stop in my tracks at his words, and in one quick turn I make my way back over to him. Anger fills my body like a shot of rage being poured in through my veins, it moves me. As I stand tall over my younger self, sitting pathetically amongst the wreckage, I raise my fist.

But gently, I will grab his sore, tired body and embrace it in mine. He’s right. I am a bit too much like my father. But one thing time has taught me, is that I don’t have to be. So I will drag this boy by the underarms and I will take him with me. I will move on, even if he kicks, and claws, and screams. I will only respond in compassion and love, because I know. I know.

“There is nothing for you here, we need to let go,” I will plead with him through strained lungs as I continue to drag the fighting boy through the fragments of the past that shouldn’t have ever been.

“I can’t! God, don’t you see this is all we have left? Tell me now. Tell me what you have thats any better than these remains?” He argues. I’ve always argued, I’ve never known how frustrating the defiance was until now.

I drop him and he scrambles to his feet. I notice his stance, I know it to be the once I take when I am ready to fight. I’m far too tired to fight with the past, I know I cannot win, so I speak.

“I get to go to the park, and see families with their children. I get to see how lovely and innocent people can be. I get to play with puppy dogs, and sit peacefully under the sun. I get to make friends, and long-lasting memories. More than that, I get to be with the girl we love. And I get to live a painfully boring life with her. And it’s fantastic.”

I am taken back to the times my darling sat with me and helped me recover after I had gotten myself into many dangerous situations. I remember her scolding me, I remember her frustration. I understand her frustration now.

“You don’t get to love, but I do. You only get to survive this world, but I get to live in it. So you can make your choice, but I am not leaving without you. Put down your arms, and let me show you what it means to be at peace. There is no war, there is no enemy. Let’s learn to live.”

It is awfully quiet for a moment, I dig my heels into the ground, and so does he. It appears we are at a standstill, I’ve always been terribly stubborn, but I will not leave, I will take him with me no matter what it takes.

“You have been through too much.“ I speak again.

“I don’t know where to put all this anger.” He responds, his head turned down facing his mudded shoes.

“You let it go. Thats all you can do, is just make peace with it, and let it go.”

“What do I do when this is all Ive ever known?”

“Oh, but theres so much else to know, thats the beauty of life. When things crumble, you discover something new someplace else. And again, and again. You have opportunities to discover something wonderful every step forward you take. But there is nothing more here, so we need to move elsewhere now.”

“I don’t want to.”

“You didn’t really want to do half the things you did while this place was still standing. And yet blood stains your hands.”

There is only silence once again. Only a sniffle breaks the quiet as my younger self takes a deep breath in. The air around us weighs heavy.

“I’m sorry if I hurt anyone.” He says, his eyes still meeting the floor.

“I forgive you,” I respond sincerely as my hand grasps his. Both equally as calloused, both equally as toughened and stained.

And so we will make our way out of the destruction, and into the present. And I will show him the books I have gotten, and the writings I have created. I will show him how to make art. He will be shocked to know I haven’t touched substances in ages, and that our darling is still by our side through it all. And he will know now. He will know that life can be so wonderful, and that we are nothing like our father, and we have the potential to be something so much more.

My past is laid to rest as I wake up from my dream. The sun shines quietly through my window and I take a deep breath in. I don’t know if my future will be any easier, I know I have my fair share of issues, but I will make peace, and I will live. I owe it to him, to myself, to the boy I once was. And so I will live. I will live.

[ventingrage]

6/16/23:

I woke up today completely shaken and half in tears. I havent thought about you for a while, life has been busy. I had a very realistic dream about you and when I was trying to talk myself down from being so upset to my one friend who knows about you, I started bawling. So here goes:

I was with my parents out somewhere by the coast I think, and we were able to see the different military planes flying. I was looking on my flight radar app and somehow I caught a glimpse of you getting into the 2nd back seat of this older type plane, perhaps a WWII model with the big metal wings and fin. You got into it and I was standing/floating/idk, but trying to keep somewhat hidden so you didnt see me. I got to watch you taxi out and take off. I was so excited to see you fly. My parents were in some building having dinner maybe but I had stepped out to watch all of this. So anyways, you guys pull up and go straight up into the sky doing some kind of spin maneuver. A second plane came up behind you and did the same. All of a sudden the second plane took a nose dive and I saw this white smoke poof out from the back but had lost a visual on it. Suddenly yours did too. I stood frozen as my jaw dropped and I started praying out loud “no no no… no, no… he cant be dead.” I walked in to my parents like a zombie and said, “he died…. They crashed, and i just saw him die….” It didnt make sense, you were grounded, you shouldn’t have been flying. My dad didnt realize why I was crying so hard so I had to play it off like it was simply just witnessing that. I started looking at news channels on my phone, facebook, anything, but no reports so I was hoping maybe it wasnt true. No…. They just had to notify families first. All of a sudden I’m in this conference type room with all kinds of people and military personnel. I didnt recognize anyone. I saw four white marbel slabs up on this short stage, and each one had a wreath of flowers on it and a flag behind it. I couldnt see the names. Quietly I meandered up to the front and asked what the name on it said. They moved the wreath and it was your title and name. I grasped my hand over my mouth and backed away slowly. All of a sudden they were handing your folded flag to your daughters. They seemed younger though, curly hair, white and black dress, smiling….could tell they had no idea what was going on. Your ex took a picture of them with the flag. I wanted to run over to her and yell at her but I kept my distance bc no one knew me.

I swear to you, it was so freaking real. My heart was pounding, and like I said, I was crying feeling like I lost you. Maybe it was my mind mourning the loss of you, trying to get past things subconsciously. If in my mind you are dead, then my heart can’t hurt anymore. It really fucked me up, watching you crash in that dream…. I’ve been having flash backs to it through the day. Just had to get it out on here incase for some reason I want to show you after you get out. I’ve tried looking for you, trying to find where you are being held. I can’t find you on any federal or state jail pages. I just wish I knew where…. I had a no caller id come up a couple days ago. Keep wondering if it was you. I guess I’m past the sad and angry phase now, and kind of at an “it is what it is” phase. I hope you’re okay. I hope you’re learning more about yourself and why you did everything you did, including ghosting me, yet again.

[marie-dufresne]

Prompt Roulette 06.13.23

We were really thrown for a loop with our first prompt of the night and it really gave me the heebie jeebies to write it. I thought for a moment I actually may have found the ship I simply cannot get down with but...once I got warmed up, I realized how I could have made it work. It was definitely a brain bender.

Also, it was apparently Artie night.

Characters: Artie & Barret                     Prompt: Enemies to Lovers

Barret Wallace called bullshit on atonement. Men like Artemis ShinRa didn’t atone for jack. What good they did was for publicity, to keep what they had of their good names and to keep their deep pockets lined. Stuffed, even.

So when the world needed rebuilding and ShinRa threw their money at the orphans, the masses cheered. Barret, Tifa, Cloud, Reeve--they all saw through it. Still, they didn’t reject the help. They didn’t deny that it did help. Who were they to turn away funding to give kids a chance just because they were bitter at the source? Barret had lived in bitterness for the majority of adult life and learned the hard way that beggars couldn’t be choosy.

When the ex-president took a shine to Marlene, he thought he might have killed him on the spot. Marlene was no orphan. That was his little girl and she didn’t need the same kind of help that the others did. She had a family.

For as much as he looked favorably on her, Artemis didn’t overstep. Well, one could argue that approaching them at all was overstepping. Any gift he bestowed was inappropriate and uncalled for.

“I missed my chance for grandchildren,” he had lamented, watching as she spun in her new dress, “and I never had a daughter.”

Admittedly, losing his son to geostigma had changed something in him. He was less insufferable, more subtle.

Everyone deserves a second chance, don’t they?

That’s what Marlene had said the day Barret had kicked the old man out of the bar for daring to offer a private tutor for the girl.

It hit Barret exactly where it needed to, and he acquiesced to Artemis showing his face and doting on his daughter. He couldn’t say no to her, not when she saw the good in just about everyone despite everything she’d been through.

Drop-ins had turned to full visits had turned into Barret and Marlene spending weekend retreats at the new ShinRa complex where she learned to ride chocobos and horses and spent the sunny days floating in the swimming pool built especially for her.

Artemis was good with her. Barret couldn’t deny it. Hell, once or twice he caught himself sad that Rufus hadn’t been a girl. Maybe things would have gone differently.

He didn’t snarl at the president when he spoke. He didn’t reject the manly embrace of the older man and one day, as they sat on the patio, timing Marlene as she raced from one edge of the pool to the other, he didn’t reject the hand that rested on his thigh. He didn’t accept it per se, but he didn’t reject it.

Characters: Rufus & Artie                     Prompt: Hogwarts AU

Standing on Platform 9 3/4, the ShinRa family was, for once, among the masses. Rufus wasn’t willing to admit that he was nervous, but so accustomed to living in isolated luxury, the sudden attack of stimulation left him paralyzed, his ability to play it off as disdain expertly masking his discomfort.

“Why must we be here, father? Can’t we have arrived at school on our own?”

Artemis stroked his mustache for a moment, scanning the crowd for familiar faces be them friend or foe.

“It’s good for you,” he replied, not looking down at his son, still looking for nothing in particular on the platform.

Rufus sniffed, adjusting his robes, “You may enjoy mingling with these people, but I don’t.”

Artemis placed his hand firmly atop his son’s head, distorting his perfectly styled ‘do, signaling the time was over to be acting like a pretentious brat, even if that was exactly what he was.

“Look here,” he said, motioning over to a tall, dark skinned man, built like a mountain, sporting brilliant gold and green robes, a thick, nasty scar from the corner of his mouth to his ear. In tow, he had a little girl, porcelain and blonde, curls bobbing everywhere as she bounced in brilliant excitement, the cat in her arms tolerating her.

“If you don’t mingle, you don’t learn. If you don’t learn, you don’t get ahead,”

“Gabriel,” he greeted smoothly, extending his hand as the pair approached.

“Artie!” came the cheery response of the taller man, accepting the handshake with a firm, but friendly professionalism. “Your boy is starting this year?”

“Sure is,” Artemis boasted, puffing out his chest a bit, “another Slytherin in the family to be sure. And your little princess?”

Rufus looked at the girl, a first year just as he was.

“She can’t be yours,” he scoffed, not yet having learned the art of tact. He recognized this man. He was an Auror, one of the best. He had about twelve of his cards.

“I’m Marie,” she greeted, face in his face, nose practically touching his before she bounced back, doing a full twirl, “I’m adopted.”

With narrowed eyes, Rufus moved his gaze from her, to Gabriel, then back to her.

“Clearly.”

The whistle blew and Gabriel steered his daughter away, waving goodbye to Artemis and Artie crouched down, speaking so only his son could hear.

“That girl successfully cast the killing curse when she was seven years old. She’s a ticking time bomb. Use that information however you’d like.”

Rufus turned, examining his father with a skeptical sort of look.

“A killing curse?” he asked, voice full of doubt, “how is she not in Azkaban?”

Artemis shrugged, then stood.

“Why do you think a halfblood was adopted by one of our most powerful Aurors?”

With a raised brow, Rufus watched her climb onto the train, shining grin in someone else’s face now. Well well well, what a scandal.

Maybe school wouldn’t be so awful after all.

Characters: Marie & Writer’s Choice                     Prompt: New Neighbors

Marie had just moved into her new apartment in Sector 0. She knew how difficult it was to land a place here. This was for the elite, largely ShinRa employees and those close to them. She was neither of these things, but her boyfriend was.

She just wasn’t yet sure which one of these things he was.

With her purse and her shoes in her hands, she ran through the hall to her door. No one would be up at this hour, no one should be up at this hour. Or at least no one should have been. But someone was. Her neighbor, casually walking towards her, both of them about to meet in the middle of the hall, for their doors were directly opposite each other.

With her shoes raised up to her face, she did her best to cover the marks on the side of her head. She’d seen him before. He was tall, dark, handsome, and silent. He kept to himself. This was a good thing.

Her fingers were shaking as she typed in the door code and when for the fourth time it denied her entrance, she wondered how much she’d really had to drink, or what had been in the drink. There was a hand on her shoulder and when she looked up, she met the shades of her neighbor, a man whose name she didn’t even know.

“You aren’t alright.”

It wasn’t a question, nor was it an accusation, and when he punched in her door code, she didn’t question how he knew it.

“Sit down,” he said stiffly, leading her to a plush chair and gently pushing her into it before he retreated to his own place, returning with a first aid kit.

“Y-you-you don’t have to,” she stammered, chin wobbling. How embarrassing. She was a lady, highborn and bred. To be seen in such a state of disarray was…mortifying. He should leave. She could take copious amounts of pills, sleep it off for a few days, and return to the party scene by the weekend.

She’d be…fine.

“You need to choose your boyfriends better,” he said after a while, pushing some of her hair back before applying some sort of salve to her bloodied temple.

Marie twisted her neck to look at him. How…how did he know? And how had he gotten them inside?

“Are you stalking me?”

Rude paused for a moment. What an accusation. But then, he had never said boo to her before. Knowing how to get into her home and being well aware it was her boyfriend that liked to beat on her was unnerving, he supposed.

“I’m one of ShinRa’s finest,” he replied instead, “we know everything.” She accepted this, then took in his own appearance, finally realizing she wasn’t the only one covered in blood.

“You know how to kill people?”

He didn’t respond, but he didn’t deny it. They sat in silence for over ten minutes as he worked, patching up every cut he could see before handing her some ice wrapped in a towel. “I can make him disappear.”

[howboutadancebonnie]

Gettin’ Married

Yikes it's been three years lol okay absolutely wild to think it has been so long since I have updated. 

Big news: Getting married in August! August 25th, 2023. To Patrick Lindros (in case that wasn't clear) Life is really freakin good. Working for the Park still, last year we did Skyrim for adventure camp, it rocked. This year I am planning Lord of the Rings! Very excited about props and costumes for this one.Life at the park is unstable, new boss Serge is freaking weird. Susanne and Dave still have their dick measuring contests. I am just floating along. Always hoping for a promotion.

Wedding planning is pretty much complete. Just have to figure out centerpieces, shoes, and a cake. We are also honeymooning in Ireland for 2 weeks following the wedding! Excited beyond belief to marry Pat. He is the most wonderful partner I could imagine. the growth i have seen in him in just 4 1/2 years is insane. He was becoming more open-minded through college but since I have met him it’s skyrocketed. I love his passion toward everything in life, there's never a problem he can't solve. His love language is solving my problems I think lol He is patient with me, far more than other other person in my life. He listens to understand never to just respond. And best of all he is truly my best friend. there's nothing on this planet I could do that wouldn't be improved with his company. He makes me a better person everyday I am with him. We have gone through hard times, when we aren't on the same page of understanding but nothing so far has proven too hard to work out, and I have faith that nothing will. We have been discussing a lot lately in preparation for our life together. What our values are, opinions on how to raise our children, how to navigate our families and holidays, how to navigate emotional relationships with others. Bringing me to my next point:

I feel a surge in personal growth this past year unlike any time in my life. I feel like my mind has expanded to new ideas and possibilities. Something has clicked with how short life is and wasting time worrying about insignificant things. Also questioning societal norms more and dissecting what is personally important and what I truly do not care about. I've had a war with the people pleasing side of my all my life,  and lately I feel I have gained much more ammo. A stronger will and idea of who I am and what I stand for. Also maintaining the line of consideration and kindness but not letting people bully me into their opinions therefore changing the way I act and feel. Honestly I have a clear vision of who I want to be, my goal, and I feel I am finally on the right track. My anxiety is under control mostly, I have started taking care of myself mentally as well as physically. I garden, I grow, I work out, I keep an open mind and a level head. Those are the things I am focusing on most.

Social life is flourishing, through the larp (oh yeah I larp now) I have made some terrific connections and wonderful new friends. Notably Matt, Jimmy and Harrison who we now have a DnD campaign going with. Matt is our DM, Jimmy is an old cowboy bard, Dave is a young roguish warlock, Harrison is a dwarf tinkerer, and I'm a sorcerer princess centaur. It has been an absolute blast, my first campaign, with such theatrical nerdy people. And the larps themselves have been a terrific chance to spread my wings, work on social skills, and just escape for a weekend. As close as I am to Pat it is great to have that ability to separate from him (distance makes the heart stronger) and do something that is totally mine, an interest we don't share. Dave, Dylan, Patrick and I started larping on Hallowtide in November of 2021, I wasn't sure about it at first. It definitely tested my confidence, but really since I clicked with Matt it has been so rewarding.I talk yo Lili and Jess everyday through an app called Cappucino where we record daily beans. thats been great as a way to stay involved in each others lives on our own time.I don't see much of Gab and Grace, since were so busy working but when I do it's a blast. My bachelorette party is next weekend WOOOO, I cant wait to see all my best friends in one place. 

Family life is unstable, putting it nicely. Jesse and Melissa unfortunately are going through a divorce. A messy one. Arya is 6 and Ozzy is 3. It's been hard on everyone involved. I wish I could do more to help, especially with Arya. But its hard with them living 45 minutes away. Arya did come to one of my nature eaglet classes and she was adorable, she had such a good time. I'm excited for her to come to my camp this summer! Just trying to be a stable influence in her life, I know shes little but I always want her to know I am in her corner. No matter what life throws at her.

And that's pretty much all for now? Hope I don't wait this long to post again. My life is always eventful.

5/16/2023