#bloodstreak

[oldblood]

happy birthday!! i hope you have a great day! 💌🤍🌹

thank u miles!!! ❤️💗

[vigilskeep]

have a slightly stressful thing to do today so i am going to be exclusively thinking about whatever gender fhawke has going on to distract myself and oh boy is it working

[wolfhednn]

　𝐚 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 　/　drabble ₊

growing up, he'd never been made to feel the lesser of the sons of fraldarius. often, he'd wondered if it was all in his head.

he couldn't be said to have received any less attention. though his memories of his mother are sparing, their father had been equally rigorous with them both. their education had been equally complete. their training equally emphasized. it made sense——the name fraldarius wasn't a small one, or easy to live up to. the arm that filled the king's shield, young or old, needed to be strong, peerless, unflinching.

he couldn't be said to have received any less love. as the youngest of their entourage, many would've said he'd had anything but.

maybe it had only been in his head.

maybe it was him who saw glenn's skill in both lance and sword when he just wanted to exceed him in the blade.

maybe it was him who noticed how glenn cast with their father's talent in the goddess' magic when he showed no interest in those lessons.

"you're too narrowminded, felix," his father told him. his tutors told him. his mentor told him. "what happens if you're disarmed? your sword gets taken?" they proceeded then to do just that——schwing!——sunlight glinting sharply off steel as it sailed tip over hilt to clatter to the ground, leaving him defenseless at his enemy's lancepoint. at the other end of it was any number of those who'd built him and honed his skill, made him who he was today.

. . .

like he said, his father was like that too. skilled in faith magic, that is.

they say that magic came to him before the lance did, even before riding did. that when he was a boy, he used to struggle to match his peers in steel, and would be mocked and laughed at: what kind of king's shield can't even land a javelin! but that he made up for it in the strength of the goddess' smite that would silence them.

glenn, too, harnessed the same terrifying aurora that spilled from rodrigue's deft hand: a roar of brilliant light, the memory of dark waves bloodstreaked from horseback burned into a foe's eyes, more than enough to make repentence of apostasy.

for his father, it'd been faith in the goddess. his brother, faith in his loved ones.

in turn, felix had never sought out magic, never felt or welcomed its spark. his father said nothing——even after glenn had died, he said nothing, for all that he said to him at all at the time. and with glenn's death had died the last of any desire he might've had to pursue it: to better match him maybe, or live up to some imagined expectation ; to please his father maybe, or shirk off the voices saying he was too stubborn. instead, the blade was where he found himself, the same where he had always found himself. the blade was where he found his brother, and the pieces of everything he'd once held sacred. and so there he'd stayed.

until——

until. . .

a drop of ink disturbs clear water. someone tells him: magic will make you a stronger swordsman.

it's an echo of the voices from the past. "you're too narrowminded, felix" chases him forward in time like a hydra, grabbing him again in these cloistered, dust-smote halls where they'd never walked and had never seen him. his expression sours at first, and he swears, he swears. . .

but this time, he listens——because the voice that has chased him is none other than glenn's. airy and teasing, always flippant, who used to say to everyone else: "lay off him. he'll pick it up or he won't." now he says:

give it a try, felix.

give it a try, felix.

so felix finds, with enough time, that his faith is the faith that splits like lightning. born not from the goddess, nor in the belief that in memory he will never die, but something else. some third thing he doesn't know, but which howls and thrashes and bites even him, which would claim his life if he wasn't strong enough. and it feels like him. it feels like him like the blade feels like him, an extension of something he lives by and vouches for.

after all, thunder isn't too far off from faith: a flash of light, a smoldering crater, a scar for the departed.

　 FELIX has mastered:⠀ dread fighter.

[orlaite]

Tagged by @lapassionbeatrice ty darling🧡

rules: list your five five of your all time favorite films and have people vote on which one matches your vibe

Tagging @ailichi @lifespan @makotoscoffee @bloodstreak @nurseadriansbrother & @filmnoiress🧡

[kingpoet]

tagged by @milfchellepfeiffer to post my top nine reads of 2023! i didn't read many books last year so instead i'm posting my top tbr for this year 🥰❣️

tagging my storygraph mutuals <3 @bloodstreak @station26 @yvain @terrorsoftheflesh @oldblood

[dailyeca]

10!!

10) Would you slaughter the rich?

already have

(alt version with bloodstreaks)

[ghoulclan]

THISTLEKIT he/him

An implusive kit who’s always getting into trouble with some cat or other. He manages to get away with anything and is loved by the whole clan (well most of them at least)

He was found abandoned and wounded as a kit and taken in by the clan

Full backstory under the cut!!

Moon 0:

Fringedusk was wandering along deep in thought, as per usual, wasn’t looking where he was going and fell flat on his muzzle. Looking back scowling he saw a tiny, soggy bundle of bloodstreaked white and brown fur.

Oh shit

Nudging it with his nose he heard a faint sqeak and rushed the kit to the medicine den

A meeting was yowled and the calm looked towards Weedstar for guidance, the young leader’s mind was whirling and a long painful moment passed before he blurted out the first full sentence to come to mind;

‘Fringedusk what did you see?’

The pink cat explained the bloodstains and trail of adult cat scent and prints leading away from the body. Murmurs spread through the crowd and all eyes turned in unison when they heard the healer stonefur’s familiar tail swish (his tail is very long and sweeps along the ground, a calling card for his presence to all cats familiar with him).

Stone looked worried and tired but despite this he announced that through the kit was psycial going to recover he couldn’t say anything for the mental side. The abandonment and violence was sure to leave a scar.

The next morrow found stonefur, not having slept, talking to an awake but very shaken kitten. Stone tried to ask him where he was from or what his name was, but the kit only repeated the word thistle.

He was young they didn’t expect him to have a full grasp of the languge yet and so all the clan could do was spend time and help in anyway they could

Weedstar brought the comfort of shared silence. Shellfreckle the deputy brought music (yes these cats can play drums ). Stonefur the healer did all he could, coming up with games and remedies, never tiring. Fringedusk tried to seek the maker of those prints in the floor but to no avail. Sunbillow did not help, if the kit was going to survive he would have to do it himself. Afterall that’s how sunbillow learnt. And finally slightnut the elder provided feats of strength and the warmth of her fur

And so after a few moons the kitten could speak and the clan had all grown very close to him, almost all, sunbillow wanted the kitten to prove himself

The kitten was called forward to the rock and the First Ceremony was performed

The starclan guide and Weedstar’s mentor, goldstar, whispered in their ear and those words flew out of weed’s mouth, like the wind

‘I, Weedstar, leader of ghoulclan ask my ancestors to turn their eyes upon this kit. Will you let him become a part of the ancient living, rippling being of the clans?’

Stepping forwards Weedstar suddenly leg out a yelp of pain, looking down he saw the head of a thistle embedded in his paws. Nodding to the spectral outline of goldstar she understood.

‘The stars have spoken, Thistlekit I welcome you into Ghoulclan. May you be with us unendingly.’

The clan broke into chears, ‘THISTLEKIT THISTLEKIT’ and thistlekit placed his paw on Weedstar’s, feeling a surge of fulfilment and excitement, the likes of which had be alien to him for so long.

[station26]

tagged by @gei-may for three albums i have been listening to lately.........

tagging @bloodstreak @julietcapulets @torajira @lowpolysonic

[oldblood]

tagged by @firstluvlatespring & @bloodstreak to share 5 songs that's been on repeat lately (ty both <3)

tagging: @mortimer @kirnet @necrowizard @slipknots @saepiae @arcann @aboutmercy @yurious @luciferpls 🫶

[i-am-3mm3t]

[Two pictures. Both are very blurry, like the one taking them doesn't know how to work a camera.]

[In the first one, there's a dark figure holding the pale figure, presumably Ingo and Emmet. Emmet has two bloodstreaked arms laying limp from his sides, and is clinging to Ingo with the other two. There is no less blood than before, there might actually be more. Lemon, his Galvantula, is nosing at one of Emmet's new arms. Electricity is sparking off her.]

[The second one is worse, probably because it's being taken from the inside of a moving car. There's Ingo and Emmet sitting in the back, and the view outside the window is just vaguely-Nimbasa colors. There is still blood all over the twins, and Emmet's second pair of arms are still dead at his sides. The hand(?) of an Eelektross is visible in the entire lower right corner of the picture, like when your finger is accidentally over the camera.]

[laciere]

look, it can be like the rape never happened. scrub the carpet to bone, strip the drywall down - your skin is still the blankest page beneath the bloodstreak, crater of minced glass. like an empty bottle whose first flaw is thirst your body most valuable for the way it inherits silence. haven't you learned by now that trust is just an omen? not all ghosts are dead. apologize to your butcher for the mess of slaughter. what did you expect, love? there was no screaming, only the sound of silence at 120th & amsterdam, night smothered in simon & garfunkel. & then what? you had your chance to turn back. & then what? you had your chance to turn back at 120th & amsterdam. night, smothered in simon & garfunkel. there was no screaming, only the sound of silence for the mess of slaughter. what did you expect, love? not all ghosts are dead. apologize to your butcher, haven't you learned by now that trust is just an omen? your body most valuable for the way it inherits silence like an empty bottle whose first flaw is thirst. beneath the bloodstreak, crater of minced glass, your skin is still the blankest page. scrub the carpet to bone, strip the drywall down - look, it can be like the rape never happened.

Unpacking by Jody Chan

[dad-vatar]

toph x boulder

Toph and the Boulder, first time sex, she would bleed a lot,, thank God she isn't able to see it.. she's focused on holding in her screams as she realizes what she got herself into..she toughs it out, wanting to please him and not seem weak. She heard the first time would hurt, but their size difference and her age are probably making matters worse. He sees tears in her eyes and she's biting her knuckles. She wants this, he reminds himself, she could kick his ass right now if she didn't. He finishes inside, thinking about how she could crush him into the dirt, even though she's like eighty pounds. he uses the delicate silk of Toph's panties to wipe the bloodstreaks off his cock and clean her bruised, swollen opening. Two big fingertips prod her open a little further.. she hears The Boulder suck in air through his teeth as he surveys the damage..blood and cum and Toph was soaking wet herself, the terror of being totally helpless for real did that. He didn't want to hurt her, he just got carried away.

[hemat0lasluts]

vladimir’s breath caught in his throat as he felt simon’s frantic hand press his palm against the boy’s chest. the familiar rhythm that should have been there—the strong, steady beat of life—was absent. he froze, dread coiling around his heart like a vise as he stared down at simon, unable to find the words that could undo the horror of this moment.

when simon’s voice broke, the raw fear in his tone was like a knife twisting in vladimir’s chest. he had promised him safety, had sworn that everything would be alright, and yet, here they were, on the precipice of a truth too awful to face.

vladimir’s gaze fell to the gash in his own wrist, the blood that had just moments ago bound them together now serving as a grim reminder of what he had done. he tried to speak, to offer some kind of comfort, but the words choked in his throat. how could he tell simon that he could not feel his heart beating? how could he admit that, in his desperation to save him, he had done the very thing he had sworn to protect him from?

“simon…” his voice was hoarse, laced with guilt and sorrow. he gently cupped simon’s face, forcing him to meet his gaze. his eyes were filled with anguish, a deep, bottomless pain that mirrored the fear in simon’s own. “i’m so sorry…”

vladimir’s hand trembled slightly as he stroked simon’s cheek, his heart breaking at the sight of the terror in his lover’s eyes. “i thought i could save you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “i thought if i could just give you enough, you’d be alright. but i… i didn’t know this would happen.”

he pulled simon back into his arms, holding him tightly as if he could shield him from the harsh reality that had already settled between them. “you’re still here,” he said softly, desperately trying to hold onto some semblance of hope. “you’re still with me, simon. i won’t let you go, not now, not ever. we’ll figure this out together, i promise.”

vladimir pressed his forehead against simon’s, his lips brushing over the bloodstreaked ones in a kiss that was more about seeking solace than passion. “you didn’t die,” he murmured, though the certainty in his voice was gone, replaced by a quiet, painful resignation. “you’re still here with me.”

but deep down, vladimir knew the truth. simon was no longer the boy he had been. the pulse that once defined his life was gone, replaced by a silence that vladimir could not deny. the realization tore at him, but he refused to let go of simon, refused to let fear or guilt push him away.

simon fell into vladimir’s chest with ease, breathing in the other’s familiar scent as he was wrapped up in strong arms and peppered with kisses and kind words. he had never seen vladimir like this before– frightened, off-kilter, shaken. ❝ you’re not getting rid of me that easily, you know. ❞ a weak smile cast up at the other, trying to ease his mind even as his body still reeled. the boy pulled his knees up to his chest, folding himself up small enough to hide away within vladimir’s embrace entirely. though the weakened dizziness had gone from him, it had been replaced by a new, stranger feeling. simon felt strangely empty, but couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was missing inside of him. his strength had returned, and his mind felt clearer than it had in months. looking up at vladimir, his breathing finally evened out as the adrenalin from the sudden exertion faded from his system. the worry in vladimir’s eyes was a terrible thing to behold, and simon found that he couldn’t bear witness to it any longer. simon arched up, pressing his mouth, still streaked with blood, against vladimir’s, pulling him down for a slow, deep kiss. his hand raised to card back through his silken hair, falling back onto his own chest when the kiss broke and he laid back down in the crook of vladimir’s elbow, revelling in his closeness. realisation struck him suddenly, dark eyes widening as he dug his hand into the collar of his shirt to splay his palm against his own bare chest. there was nothing. no pounding, no drumming, not even the slightest murmur of his heart beating. within seconds, he had writhed out of vladimir’s embrace, instead reaching for the other’s hand to force it under the fabric of his shirt as well, pressing the other’s cool palm against the same patch of skin. ❝ tell me you can feel my heart beating. ❞ an urgent plea, underlined by the frantic panic set deep in his gaze. dread seeped into the now hollow place in his chest. his eyes darted from the gash in vladimir’s pulse to the other’s face. simon slowly shook his head, as if pleading with reality to bend to a kinder version of itself. ❝ vlad. vlad– tell me you can feel it beating. tell me i’m alright. tell me that i’m not–❞ his voice broke, then, frightened eyes searching vladimir’s face for a reassurance that he knew, deep down, would not come. there had never been a doubt in his mind that vladimir would take care of him. yet here he sat, now, pressing the other’s palm to his own chest, willing his own heart to beat. ❝ did– did i die ? you said i was safe, vlad, you said it was alright. ❞

[orlaite]

5 songs I’ve been listening to on repeat lately, tagged by @filmnoiress❤️

I tag @bethegaycowboy @diotimas @kingpoet @lapassionbeatrice @lifespan @peglars @nowherefastmp3 @marlocandeea @bloodstreak & anyone else who wants to do it

[kingpoet]

my top 9 favorite first-time watches of 2023! tagged by @orlaite @milfchellepfeiffer @terrorsoftheflesh @oldblood @bloodstreak 🤍

from left to right: sweet smell of success / rebecca / stand by me / a fistful of dollars / lawrence of arabia / the princess bride / for a few dollars more / shadow of a doubt / the philadelphia story

tagging (if you haven't done it yet): @stagegore @nishitanis @yvain @hauntinghills @brutalistarchitecture2 @no1girl @rozovii @kiss2012 @romanced and anyone else who wants to do this, you can say i tagged you idc!

[benefits1986]

Lucid Dream, Yet Again

Can’t sleep but thankfully, was entertained with a series of ganaps that took my mind and spirit off my lola’s so-called compensating mode era. The past week has been about super long, highly persuasive yet very neutral explanation about what is happening to ina. Hassle kasi healthcare comms dito. Hindi nagaadjust sa life chapter ng families ng patients. Bakit ba wala tayong programs para dito? Bakiiit?! Ako ang POC ng pag-inform sa pinsans about all things happening to ina lalo the bad news. Nag-request kasi dad ko saka Tita ko na ako na lang daw kasi it’s too much for them. JUSQ. Mhie. Ano na? Pero sige, push. Dumami nga lalo blemishes ko lately pero wala na akong paki. Habulin ko na lang ‘pag hupa na ang ganaps.  Dad, as a trueblue basher pero iyak-tawa season niya ngayon. Dad: Grabe ka mag-explain. Parang hindi masakit i-suction. Na-connect mo pa sa baradong washing machine pipe. Tinde mo. Me: I need to be as neutral as I can even when ako alam na alam ko na ang susunod na kabanata. ‘Di ko na need abangan. Also, I would not make a decision sa suction or no suction. Apo lang ako. Kayo ‘yang mga anak niya mag-decide. Not me. ‘Wag ako, dad.  Dad: K. Fine. Tapos iyak-tawa ulit.  My KPI the past week since balik Manila ako is super ugh... finding a way to get all 6 anak ng ina ko in my lola’s home. It was not easy since my dad is running away from the chapter before the final chapter. ‘Di ko siya pinilit or mandate. I talked to him and explained how it is to adult,  even when it hurts so badly.  Actually, lost KPI na ‘yan pero sige, laban natin because mommy’s girl tayo and wala namang masamang i-try. I recounted my hidden stories during mother dragon’s pre-final chapter.  Bottomline: A mom even when she is on her deathbed is still a mom. She wants the kids to be there not because she demands their presence. She wants to be super sure that the kids will power through no matter how badly they will fail during the first dibs on her final chapter. Even when she knows may away mga kids niya, she wants them to stay solid. Syempre, Tagalog ko ‘to sinabi sa dad ko para manamnam niya. :D LELS.  Took dad about close to a week to pack his things like a Prep student on his way to his first summer class. I teased him na lang... Dad, kaya mo na ‘yan. Matanda ka na. ‘Wag mong hayaang mawala sa’yo ang precious chance na nasa tabi ka ng nanay mo. Ako nga, 26 nawalaan ng nanay e. Ikaw swerte mo, 88 years. Sana all.  Dad’s main trauma and drama is simple and heart-shattering: Wala na nga raw siyang asawa too soon, wala pa raw siyang nanay. OUCHIE mhieeee. Pero sabi ko, dad, nadaanan mo na ‘to. Tiwalaan mong andyan si mom sa tabi mo. Ramdamin mo love niya sa’yo dahil sabi mo nga, ayaw niya literal paramdam ever sa’yo ‘di ba?  Soooo, back to the lucid dream bit. Off track na naman ako, but WTH. 

It’s very unusual for me to stay up super late because I am a sleepyhead kaya when I do, sobrang alert mode na po tayo, opo. Had about 2 hours of sleep but grabe... another lucid dream. One of my closest friends wants to dream more lucid dreams, pero ako, to be honest, ayoko. Ayoko talaga pero wala e. Siguro dahil overactive ang imagination ko and empath ako ng ayoko rin namang maging empath to begin with. Hindi ko naman ito honed skill or whatever. Naganap lang siya. :D UGH.  Soooo, my lucid dream is that my lola. UGH. Of all times, why now? Pero eto na nga. I am trying to shut down the flashbacks as soon as I wake up, but, girl, too graphic. In fairness naman sa lucid dream ko na ‘to nag-level up. Dystopian on kinda sepia siya, so may prod paganaps. My lola wore a tattered hospital gown. She lay on a tatami bed. Loose ropes were all over her but she managed to move her hands and take out her shabby oxygen mask. Dried bloodstreaks on her mouth and nose. Poetic nga e if you don’t look at it from a personal viewpoint. Lakas maka Eiga Sai. Siguro naimpluwensiyahan ng PL ko na anime on free TV nung 90s na been listening to nung weekend. In the dream, with my signature RBF I said: Gusto niyo ba talagang nakikita siyang ganyan? It was followede by dead air. 

I felt so neutral but not apathetic. In the dream, I felt total admiration and respect for my lola who is slaying her next chapter like a bad bitch. I felt her power in spite the seeming lose of control. I felt her eagerness to make it through her next chapter. My lola is a woman of few words but she knows when to say no and put boundaries. We are not super close din but close enough na may lambing na lutong ulam up until her Year 85. We bond over extra rice, her favorite ulams --sisig, crispy pata, kare-kare and of course, crispy chicharon. Imagine! At 85 nakakain niya pa ‘yun ng walang putok batok but of course, may maint meds na siya and regular doc visits. She also makes it a point to let us take home her white tilapia and menudo. Siya pa naghuhugas ‘pag may naiwang plato or baso sa lababo.  But when she hit 87, we almost lost her friggin’ pneumonia which is common naman sa geriatrics. LOL. Sabi pa niya  sa surprise birthday party niya, akala raw niya ‘di na siya aabot. Then, andito na kami sa Year 88. Docs told us na last Christmas, just in case may mangyari sa ina ko, mag-ready na raw kami. 

Yesterday, her BP and oxygen levels are down. Hindi na nakabawi. This morning, she has no urine output na.  GAH. To my ina, nasabi ko na ‘yung habilin ko. Kay mother dragon, of all things, sabi ko paki tanggal na yung fucking dysmenorrhea ko kasi mom ko lang and her hand over my puson nakaka-take away nun. Tawang-tawa with amusement and sarcasm dad and kapatid ko about this bit. Wala silang pake. And tradition lang naman siya na I brushed off. My superstitious brother egged me na bumulong so ‘yun talaga laman ng heart ko. LOL. Twisted, I know. Weird pa nga e.  So, ina. We’ve spent a good number of ungodly hours a week or so ago. I have said all that I needed and wanted to say. Wala namang problema sa lucid dreams, tbh. I will visit you soon and don’t worry, for execution na po ang season of adios mo sa universe na ‘to. You deserve to honored. A really good jamming session x praise & worship. Sana aligned lahat to remember your good days because they outnumber the bad and the ugly.  Thank you, ina kasi nasaid mo yata PTSD ko ya ako nag-heal after a decade of drowning and swimming in murky waters na akala ko, ‘di ko na malalampasan. It is not easy, ina, but thank you for allowing me to face you as you welcome your final chapter. Holding your hands and looking at your lined face made me see na, indeed, I am healing nga. Salamat for making me see that I have finally emerged from the dark. My lights and shadows are recalibrated.  Grabe ka, ina. Solid. ‘Di magigiba. Influence at its subtlest, at its finest. See you soon. May need lang akong mga itawid dito sa Manila and nag-align na rin tayo about this. You smiled and nodded pa nga as I told my life’s next era.  Letting you go is not giving you up. See you on the other side pero not soon kasi may mga paganaps pa tayo in the name of being a probinsiyana on bike.