#but now ill start drawing and its like. well i want to slow down a little. what if i want to take my time. even if its just a sketch im

[catmask]

SNAPDEX: DAY 13 | DEX 104

cubert.... warmup for today, 30 minutes

[frozenjokes]

do we think cannibalism is a good idea yet? please? please do cannibalism?

“Hey, you okay, Mumbo? Can I come up? I’m thinking I’m going to come up regardless of what you say, but I’d like it if you just said yes.”

It was Scar. Mumbo said nothing. Scar hit his head twice attempting to get in with a trident, but made it on the third go, sighing with a dramatic ‘whew!’ There was a small silence in the wake of Scar’s arrival, causing the same agony Mumbo was sure Cub experienced when Mumbo smashed his ribs.

“Guess he told you,” Mumbo muttered, resigned to this outcome. Cub would tell Scar, Scar would push for more answers, and eventually the whole damn server would know something was wrong, not that they could do anything about it. Mumbo would not leave. Not until his shadow had its way.

“Cub told me you were really upset, yeah. Said he didn’t know why,” Scar shrugged, “Told me he thought you needed a friend. So here I am.”

“Ah,” Mumbo couldn’t even manage the noise without his voice slipping in a soft crack. Scar stepped toward the bed where Mumbo was curled up, moving to take his hand, then letting it go when Mumbo flinched.

“Tell me what’s on your mind,” Scar said, so impossibly gentle, and while Mumbo most certainly would not, he didn’t want to say nothing; he didn’t think he could just say nothing, it was too much.

“I think I’m- I’m very ill. I’m having a- a crisis, I think. Mentally. I’m not well. I’m really not well.”

Scar hummed, low and thoughtful, “Want a hug? I could lay down with you, no need to sit up.”

“I don’t want to face you.”

“That’s not a problem.”

“I-Okay. I’m just. I’m just going to stay here. I’m just going to stay here.”

Mumbo felt the bed dip beside him, Scar muttering a soft, “Alright,” before sliding in and holding him in a gentle spoon. It was nice feeling Scar behind him, warm even through the blanket that separated them. Slowly, Mumbo let that heat consume him, felt his heart rate slow. And then out of nowhere it seemed, wretchedly, he started to sob. It was not unusual for Mumbo to cry, though most of his grief was saved for the end of worlds, the friends he’d never see again. So much of his focus was dedicated to staying in the moment, distracting himself, putting one foot in front of the other; stopping to sob was a waste of energy, a waste of resolve. It was giving up. And Mumbo was aware of what was coming, he knew it, but in each new world acceptance came later, the moment where the gravity of his soon-to-end life hit him harder each time, and today, it was hitting now. He could delude himself all he wanted that he’d hold on until the end of the season, but he knew he wouldn’t make it. He would hardly be able to stand more than a month of this. It was over. Maybe it’d be better to bite the bullet now. Stop drawing out his own suffering and deal with the hurt after it was done.

How selfish was that, with Scar at his back. With monstrous effort, he ground down the thought that this would be the ideal way to do it; turning around and tearing through Scar’s chest, disabling any means of fighting back, then taking his damned time. Mumbo cried harder when Scar followed his arm down to his hand, rubbing circles with his thumb into the back.

He would wait.

“Please tell Cub to leave me alone. I don’t know what he wants, I don’t care, I just don’t want to see him anymore. For the rest of the season, I don’t want to see him.”

“He wants you to eat him.”

Mumbo stiffened, a short, strangled sound crawling from his throat, but Scar shushed him gently, holding Mumbo’s hand tighter in turn.

“Just listen, lay here with me and listen before you freak out, alright?” Scar's voice was little more than a whisper, gentle force at Mumbo’s side serving to keep him still and as calm as he could stand to be.

“Why?” Mumbo croaked out, and felt Scar gesture vaguely with his head.

“He’s worried, mostly. He gets in his head about things, and he’s trying to solve them but he- well, he’s not the most tactful guy sometimes. I think he got scared when he saw you at the start of season ten; the last time he’d really seen you was after your break when you looked really bad.. He’s worried things are going to escalate to the point they did before, so he’s uh.. decided he’s gonna fix it. With cannibalism. When he’s talking about it to me it makes a lot of sense, but uh.. I mean, I guess it’s a little out there..”

“How do I make him stop. You have to- Scar, please make him stop.” Mumbo felt himself quivering in Scar’s hold, be it from fear or anger, he did not know.

“Oh, he won’t take it from me. I mean, he would if I was the guy he was trying to convince to eat other people, but he doesn’t always take secondhand advice like that. In this case, he’s way too zeroed in. You have to do it.”

“Well- fine. I’ll do it then, I’ll do it right now-“ Mumbo wriggled in Scar’s grip, but he held fast.

“Wait a minute- Not like that, no, not like that.” Scar almost laughed, but there was a little more stress there than anything.

“Not like what?” Mumbo huffed, annoyed. He pushed one last struggle, but gave in when Scar didn’t let go.

“You’ve got to be straight with Cub, you’ll put him off if you go about this too.. emotionally charged, let’s say. I’ll tell you exactly how to do it, I want to help you, Mumbo.”

Mumbo took a breath, then forced himself to relax, “Okay. Tell me. Please.”

Mumbo felt Scar straighten up behind him, then clear his throat, like he was about to address a crowd. “First, you gotta be as close to emotionless as you can make yourself. Fire up the coldest, deadest soul you can manage, and talk to him like you’ve just found out a close friend from like ten years ago got really sick, like really sick, terminal, and you don’t really know what to do, but the messenger of the news is looking awkward so you tell them it’s okay, it’s fine, but you don’t really feel fine, you know, your old friend is-“

“I understand, Scar,” Mumbo said, stuck between annoyance and a soft pang of amusement.

“Oh- alright,” Scar sounded a little embarrassed, but not offended, “Well I say that because Cub doesn’t- I know he doesn’t do this on purpose, and he’d probably be hurt if I said this to him so please don’t say anything, but he tends to take you less seriously when you approach him in an emotional kind of way. He really doesn’t mean to, he just gets a little confused I think, frustrated maybe. He doesn’t get it, is what I mean. He’s extremely bad at getting it. He’s sympathetic, but if you approach him and you’re emotional about it he’ll start thinking he knows better than you, in a ‘I’m just gonna take care of it for you,’ kinda way, which is completely infuriating, believe me, I know.”

“Are.. Are you guys okay?”

“Ah!” Scar jumped as if Mumbo had tazed him, “No no no! I’m just trying to explain it to you. I love Cub, he’s great, he’s the best. Literally. He’s just kind of an asshole sometimes. And he knows that, he doesn’t like being an asshole, so he listens when you tell him how it is.”

“Okay.. Then I’ll tell him I’m not going to eat him. And to stop bothering me.”

“No you won’t.”

Mumbo made a face, then gave in, “Okay. What will I tell him then.”

“You gotta tell him how he’s acting, right? You can’t tell him how what he’s doing makes you feel because he does not care, and he’ll probably tell you that, because when he’s made his mind up about something he seriously does not give a fuck unless you reach into his brain and shake it around a little. You gotta really take him by the temples and just shake.” Scar shook Mumbo a little for emphasis, Mumbo half fighting half chuckling as Scar dissolved into giggles.

“So I tell him that he’s being a prick and he should snap out of it before I get other people involved,” Mumbo sighed harshly, “Honestly, I shouldn’t even bother. I’ll just tell Grian. He’ll take care of it.”

“No, no,” Scar laughed, but it was a more nervous sound, like he knew just how serious Grian would take a matter like this, “That first bit is perfect. If you tell him that like you’re really serious- approach him first too, don’t wait for him to come to you- it’ll stop him right in his tracks. If that doesn’t work, call me. You don’t have to threaten him or anything, just make him see he’s not going about his business in the right way. I don’t do much more than tell him he’s being an asshole and he backs down. It’s magic.”

“Well- Okay. But I’m going to Grian if this doesn’t work.” Mumbo started to get up, but stopped when Scar squeezed his hand.

“Wait until tomorrow,” he said, quiet, “It’ll be better for you. Stay, rest today.” Even quieter still, he continued, “I’m sorry you’re going through something, Mumbo. If you ever want to get into the weeds I’m here, and you know Grian will be up and arms for you at the drop of a hat. It doesn’t.. It doesn’t matter what it is. To me especially, you have to know it doesn’t matter,” and with a small laugh, he said, “You could tell me you wanted to saw my head off with just your nails and I’d probably go yikes! I don’t think I’ll be very alive before you finish with the decapitation, but I'm free all day Wednesday, so we can give it a shot!”

“I’ll wait,” was all Mumbo could say. He hoped Scar would let it go now, but less than a minute later, he was speaking again.

“I just hope you know Cub’s got good intentions. He’s not trying to hurt you. I know it doesn’t always feel like that, especially when he can look you in the eyes and disregard your feelings because he’s more convinced he’s helping than he sees he’s upsetting you. I.. I’m also worried about you, if I’m being honest. It doesn’t take me finding you curled up in bed to know you haven’t been in the best shape lately. I don’t know the best way to go about this, Mumbo, and I don’t think- I don’t know if Cub.. I don’t always think he has the best way of going about things, but I understand where he’s coming from. I understand why. I know it’s difficult to extend him the kind of patience that you would for a closer friend, but please try. All of the hermits care about you, even the ones you don’t know well. We want to see you doing well.”

“I don’t want to talk anymore, Scar.”

Scar was quiet for a long moment. “Okay.”

…

Mumbo found Cub at the permit office where Scar told him Cub would probably be most consistently at least some part of the day. The idea of doing this in the permit office was most comforting for Mumbo, for the slim chance that Grian might also be there, might come up to Cub’s office and save him from the agony of this confrontation, though, the more logical part of Mumbo’s brain said that Grian was the wrong kind of person to convince Cub of anything. It was probably a good thing he never came in to work.

Mumbo had never been to the permit office before, but he couldn’t find an entrance, so grimacing, he poked a hole in the wall, replacing the blocks as he went. He climbed up the stairs with some issue (everything here seemed to be cluttered and difficult to find), then stopped before coming to the third floor, hesitating.

“Cub?” he called, feeling exceedingly stupid.

“Mumbo?” Cub nearly squawked, more than surprised, but this gave Mumbo some confidence, climbing the stairs to Cub’s office.

“Hello,” Mumbo said coolly, finding the even tone much easier to achieve now that he was face to face with Cub. Cub straightened his posture, and Mumbo, pleased to have gotten his attention, continued, “You’re being a prick.”

Cub blinked, then again a few times, but his expression stayed mostly the same. “Okay.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Yes.” Cub tapped his nails on his desk, looking thoughtful.

“I’d like to know what you’re going to do about it. Because if things continue the way they’re going, I’m going to have Grian get involved, and that would be a mighty pain in your ass.”

Cub nodded like this made perfect sense, “I think that’s fair. I do not want that. How about you sit down, Mumbo.”

“I’d rather not.”

“That’s fine. Regardless, I’d like to have a conversation about this so we can work out what we’re going to do next.”

“I already know what’s going to happen here, Cub. You’re going to leave me alone, cut complete contact, or I’m getting other hermits involved. That’s where this is going.”

“I would appreciate it if we could talk first, because as much as I’m sure you have plenty of words to say about me, I have a few things to say of my own, and I think it’s only reasonable that I speak my peace before you call in the dogs. You can hear exactly what I want from my own mouth and decide for yourself how you’d like to move forward when I’m done.” Cub closed his eyes, then opened them a moment later, “Because it doesn’t matter if you pit the entire server against me, I’m a damn stubborn cunt in the face of the kind of adversity you’re threatening, and the easy way out is here, at my desk. If you sit here and listen to everything I have to say and still want out, then I will leave you alone.” Cub eyed his own chair distastefully, getting up and maneuvering to sit with his legs crossed on his desk instead. He brushed away the few papers and knickknacks he kept, pushing them onto the now empty chair. “My desk chair is meant to sit higher than the one where a client would sit, but that’s all roleplay, let’s ditch the nonsense.”

Mumbo frowned. He considered calling Scar, but that wouldn’t help him here. He sighed. For the peace of mind of never having to deal with Cub again, this seemed a small price to pay. Mumbo climbed onto Cub’s desk, awkward with his long legs.

“Okay. Speak then.”

“I’ll only leave you alone if you listen to everything I have to say, got it?”

“Just get on with it, Cub.”

Cub rolled his shoulders, seeming quite content with taking his time. And then Cub’s eyes narrowed, throwing Mumbo a look so fiercely knowing that Mumbo felt it pierce straight through his bleeding heart.

“Let me start with what I don’t care about, because as far as shit like this goes, I prefer to lay it all out on the table. When it comes to the hobbies of this server’s inhabitants, slowly torturing, dismembering, and eventual eating alive of animals is pretty low of my list of Things That Make Me Feel Good but ultimately high on my list of Things I Don’t Really Give A Fuck About, and given everything I know about you, Mumbo, I don’t think you’re psychotic, I think you probably have a pretty good reason to do those things you do thousands of blocks out from spawn. And before you start squabbling at me, I found out in season eight, Scar knows because I told him, and I’m 99% sure Grian knows, but he never told me so and I haven’t directly asked him. I’m willing to bet he’s known since season six though, probably weeks within the first day he met you. If anyone else knows, I haven’t been told about it.”

Mumbo covered his gaping mouth with a quivering hand. He didn’t know what to do or what to say. Part of him wanted to lunge forward and silence Cub, but that wouldn’t stop him. It wouldn’t keep him from coming back. Cub did not look sympathetic. If anything, he looked angry.

“What do you need, Mumbo.” It wasn’t a question.

Mumbo didn’t answer.

“What do you need. What do you need? Why are you hiding it? What’s the damn point? If you need to eat, Mumbo, fucking eat, wasting away isn’t doing anything or anyone, especially not you.”

“It’s not about me.”

“Is it not?” Cub asked snidely, whatever neutral patience he’d been holding onto before evaporating, “What, you don’t want to hurt anyone? Are you a monster, Mumbo, because you have a little thirst for human blood? Join the fucking club! I can not for the life of me figure out what’s going on in your head- Do you think you’re better than the rest of us? Don’t want to stoop so low? What’s your damn problem! More than half of the server would lay themselves out on a platter for you on a whim of cannibalism related curiosity! Forget it if you need to eat people to survive; even the hermits you haven’t spoken to in months would cut themselves open for you! Have you opened your eyes in the past ten years? We’re all fucking deranged!”

“Shut the fuck up.” Mumbo felt the coolness come easy to him, encompassing him like black tar, “You’re making an ass out of yourself, jumping to conclusions like you can read minds.”

“You don’t give anyone much of a choice but to speculate.”

“Then I’ll lay it out for you,” Mumbo felt the rumble of a growl in his throat, expecting Cub to bite back, but he did not, silent, waiting. “Eating is not a matter of meat, not for me. Meat in the final step, but alone it is nothing, just a conduit. I need terror. I need hopelessness, despair, the kind that builds over years and years of terrorizing and watching your back and holding tightly to the things you love because you don’t know how much longer you can stand to stay, to hold them. Trying every avenue of escape, but it’s never enough. Drawing it out, leaving you alone just long enough that you think it might be safe, you think it might be over, but it’s never over. The only thing you can do is leave everything behind, find a new world, and hope to whatever higher power you believe in that I don’t follow. This isn’t as simple as asking for permission, Cub. When I finally decide it’s over, this world will end. You can not convince an animal otherwise. Animals only want to eat, grow, feel full. I will never be full. I don’t think I can be full. I can escape to sentience for a little while, spite that animal inside me, starve, but I have a feeling I’m only allowed to do so because it makes the upcoming meal that much sweeter. Betrayal, fear, hurt. To answer your questions, that’s what I need. You can tell the whole server, and it will not change the outcome. You can’t get rid of me. I won’t stop until Hermitcraft and all the history of its seasons, held in this one server, is completely abandoned.”

Cub was quiet for a long few moments after Mumbo was done, thinking, considering. “Right,” he said, almost like he didn’t believe him, the carelessness of that one word enough to make Mumbo want to bite his head right off. “That makes a lot more sense.” Then under his breath, trailing off, “..a little dramatic, but..”

“Does it.” Mumbo seethed, though part of him didn’t even know why. The callousness, the disregard- maybe he was angry that Cub wasn’t afraid because it made for a worse build up, a modicum less satisfying in the end. Maybe he was angry because Cub didn’t seem to care, and he should.

“What are you? Never heard of anything like that.” Again Cub continued casually, and despite Mumbo’s seething, his anger eased slightly at the question, reasonable enough.

“I don’t have a name. Over the years victims pass rumors of my existence around, but I’m hardly widespread enough to surpass the standard obscurity in worlds of temporary horrors. As far as I know I’m the only one of my kind,” Mumbo paused, shrugging, “Guess that’s not super likely though.”

“How old are you? You look like you’re in your twenties, maybe early thirties.”

“I don’t know. I tend to match the age of the people around me. It’s not a conscious effort.” Mumbo’s anger was starting to fade, replaced instead by a deep confusion, possibly a small amount of relief. He had very little idea what was happening here, what Cub was trying to get at, but he’d never been able to.. talk about this. Ever. Even his shadow didn’t seem to know how to feel, the both of them side eyeing each other from their places on Cub’s desk.

“Oh, I don’t mean now. I mean like- forever. In total, since you were born, or.. whatever created you.”

“I don’t remember when I started to exist. Atoms aren’t very concerned with the passage of time, nor are plants and animals. For the majority of my existence I did not count the years. Even now, I don’t count them like people do. I only want to know how long I can hold my sentience before it’s gone again.”

“Ah. So like. Really old. Really really old. Wow. I knew your body could change, I’ve seen it, but you can be different species altogether?”

Mumbo shifted uncomfortably at the idea of having been watched. He could not afford to feel shame for the animals he consumed, but he really didn’t like the idea that multiple hermits may have witnessed what he was doing and not said a word. He was always so careful- even then, if someone was following him, Mumbo was certain he would be able to sense their fear. Maybe he didn’t notice over the screams of jackrabbits. It was entirely too possible. Cub seemed unconcerned about Mumbo’s silence, continuing to ask questions almost like he was speaking to himself, like he didn’t need or want the answers because theorizing was entertaining enough.

“Can I see it? See you change?” Was the question that snapped Mumbo back to reality, the utter stupidity of the words rousing him back to life.

“If you’d like to see me lose my sentience in real time then paint the floor in your blood, sure Cub, whatever you want.”

Cub paused, almost consideringly, like he’d completely missed the sarcasm, “Maybe another time. What about something sentient? Can you do that? Like a vex- Like Scar and I! I mean, I honestly don’t know if the little guys are very sentient, so best not try-“

But Mumbo was already rolling his eyes, resigned to doing circus pony tricks, and the ethereal blue skin that painted Cub and Scar’s vex forms rippled across his own, dark hair curling into streaks of white, small wings fluttering at his back. Without entirely knowing what he was doing, he raised his newly clawed hands in a playful splay, hissing for emphasis, then let the whole change ripple away, returning to his human form. Cub looked spellbound, and the attention felt dangerous, appealing to Mumbo far more than he thought safe.

“That’s incredible! Oh, Scar would get a real kick out of that! You’ve got to show him!”

“I- It’s really nothing,” Mumbo rubbed the back of his neck, deeply unsure how to feel about this, but certainly mounting in alarm, “I’m not- I’m not showing Scar, I’m not doing that again-“

“Can you turn into other people? Can you look like me?”

“I- Probably? I mean I’m sure I can, I don’t really have limits, but this isn’t something I-“

“Try? Can you try? You don’t have limits? Okay we’ll go back to that later. Can you try?”

“We aren’t- we aren’t going back to anything!” Mumbo squeaked in his distress, but Cub was so genuinely interested, so genuinely impressed that Mumbo didn’t- he’d never experienced something like this before. So he gave in and tried, though, ‘tried’ implies there was any effort at all when in reality it was quite easy, basically second nature, until the change was complete and his mind seemed to double over on itself, the same but entirely different, thinking his thoughts but in completely different ways, stalling Mumbo where he sat, paralyzed by the horrors of a new inner working. Almost immediately he changed back, heaving shallow breaths as his mind caught up with the speed of his thoughts.

“Whoa- That was- Are you okay?” Cub stopped in his tracks, apparently failing to notice the internal explosion that occurred in Mumbo’s head.

“I am never doing that again.”

“What-“

“Your brain is awful,” Mumbo heaved, and Cub blinked, and Mumbo knew exactly what was happening, that Cub was processing, everything inside of him sluggish and those pauses, all those times he paused between sentences, it made sense now.

“You copied my body and mind?” Cub breathed, and Mumbo was still reeling so hard from the momentary terror of being in Cub’s head that he could not respond, “That’s- I mean maybe I should have guessed that might happen if you’re changing completely, but- I don’t know! I wonder why you reacted so badly if you were just me, because I wouldn’t have cared, I’ve lived here all my life. Maybe you keep part of your own head? The internal dialogue? Oh- Maybe you didn’t get my whole brain, you just got all the mental illness. In that case, I am very sorry. I bet you’d inherit physical problems too, the ones that don’t get fixed by respawns. Scar’s sickness, for example. Wow. That is really cool. I’ve never needed to cut someone open so badly in my entire life. Can I study you? I’m asking but I really don’t want to be asking. I know I said I wouldn’t pester you after this was over but I have way too many questions.” Mumbo was honestly shocked Cub could talk so fast in a brain like that, but then again, he hadn’t stuck around to find out the complexities. Maybe it only sounded fast because Mumbo’s own head was fried.

“Okay, so how do we kill you?”

Mumbo blinked up at that. “What?”

“If you go crazy, how do we kill you? Stop you, whatever.”

“Okay- one. This isn’t about ‘if’s’ so don’t get in your head about it. And you can’t stop me either, that’s not how this works. I don’t just die.”

“You can die perfectly well right now,” Cub pointed out, unconcerned.

“Well- sure. But it doesn’t matter if you kill me or not in any form, I don’t stay dead.”

“That’s fine,” Cub said, tapping his fingers impatiently on his legs, “Just tell me how. When you were hunting all those pigs you didn’t look like you got hurt or even bled.”

Mumbo huffed, impatient himself, “Well if you want to kill me, you’d better do it instantly. I don’t sustain any injuries if I don’t want to, the skin heals over as soon as whatever’s hit me is gone.”

“So if I wanted to keep you somewhere, I’d impale you. Get you in the head or heart, or maybe not some place lethal.”

“You can’t keep me anywhere, I’ll just change.”

“Ah, right. Then I’ll have to convince you not to somehow. How do you feel about peoples’ suffering if you’re not the one inflicting it? Can you tell the difference between a real scream and a fake one?” Cub talked casually like this was a simple matter of problem solving, far too animated, almost like it was fun.

“I- I don’t know, Cub, but I don’t think this is a very productive line of thought.”

“Why not? I mean, I’ll have years I’m sure to experiment on my own, but while you’re here and talking to me I think I should take advantage, don’t you?”

“You can’t stop me!” Mumbo nearly shouted in his distress, though Cub remained unperturbed.

“Is this Mumbo Jumbo the sentient human talking or Mumbo Jumbo the flesh eating terror, because if I may, you’re sounding suspiciously like the flesh eating terror.”

“You- You have no idea what you’re dealing with. This isn’t something you can stop or fight, Cub, I’ve lived hundreds of lives and worlds where everyone I’ve ever befriended has-“

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Cub interrupted him, “I don’t care. However, maybe you’re right that prepping for the worst case scenario isn’t a great use of our time because who knows how much you’ve got left. Let’s see what we can do to extend it first, yeah? If we can do that indefinitely, then there’s no problem!”

“I’ve already tried everything, Cub-“

“Have you tried cannibalism?”

“No, but-“

“Then you have not tried everything. What’s your deal? Why are you so against it? I understand your methods are a tad more intense, but who cares. Y’know, I bet this would be more effective against someone who isn’t going to see it coming. Scar is a prime candidate, but Grian would be even better for your purposes.”

Mumbo blanched, reddening in turn as anger brought flush to his face, “I am not going to attack anyone without telling them! What is wrong with you?”

Cub raised an eyebrow, then shrugged, “If you want to maximize the time you have with sentience, you should take advantage of the beginning when no one understands why you’re doing what you’re doing. For the purpose of farming enough suffering to last you, it seemed reasonable, but yeah, probably a little extreme. Still, I think you’re going to have to ease up on the ethics here if we’re going to figure something out.”

“I’m not- No, Cub. I’m telling you no.”

“Why?” It was Cub’s turn to be frustrated, scowling as he rolled his eyes.

“Because I would feel bad!”

Cub nearly hissed, throwing up his arms, “For fuck’s sake! Are we not past that? I thought your whole issue is that you make friends then torture them to death a thousand times before moving on and doing it again. Why do you suddenly have problems now that you have a willing participant?”

“Because I’m sentient, Cub!”

“You’re cowardly is what you are. Get over it.”

“Right, sure, yeah, I’ll just do that.”

“Great!” Cub huffed, “I’m ready then! Go on, paint the floor red or whatever you said about my blood. Get it all over. Give me a reason to be afraid.”

“I can’t. I don’t- You don’t get it. I spend so much time in this body doing my best to make up for everything I’ve done. I’m glad that you don’t seem to have a guilty conscience, but it’s not so easy to know the full weight of the horrors you’ve committed and the pain you will bring again because you can’t stop. What’s the point of spending the rest of my time here inflicting the same kind of suffering I will when I lose my head. You think you can stop it, but you’re wrong. You are wrong. I am past delaying the inevitable. Let me have this. Let me starve. I will do all I can for the server in my last months. I won’t live here just as I would live as a dog. It’s not worth it. It’s not worth inflicting, knowing exactly the harm I’m bringing and wanting more all the same. And that’s in the case that everyone here is magically okay with being stalked and tortured to death until I crack regardless, no, I refuse to believe even you would want to live like that.”

Cub stared at Mumbo for a long moment, searching, though for what Mumbo didn’t know. “You’re guilty,” he mumbled, like this wasn’t obvious, “You think you deserve to starve.”

“Of course,” Mumbo replied, struggling between his own shame and the hot anger simmering below his skin.

“I don’t think so,” he said, like it was just that simple. Mumbo opened his mouth to argue, or maybe just scream, but Cub interrupted him, “Regardless of what you are now, Mumbo, you are not human. You can take the shape of a person, you can do and feel the things that people do, but you are not one, not really. You’re something else. This ‘something’ doesn’t have a name, but you have different needs. You are not a person. Why is it so evil for you to take what you need, Mumbo? I mean, sure, you can’t expect to take what you need from the friends you’ve made and keep those friends all the same, but you are not bad for taking. You are hungry. You are hunting, and you are eating. It’s callous of humanity to consider themselves above this dynamic of the food chain. We are not. Nor are you, most likely. There’s always a bigger fish.”

“It’s not the same. I am far crueler than any animal you can name, and I know better.”

“Do you think dolphins deserve to suffer for hunting fish?”

“Cub, I told you it’s-“

“Many things eat their prey alive,” Cub interrupted coolly, “You found a renewable source of food, one that feels emotions stronger than any other options, comes back to life, and fears you greater each time. You are not a person, Mumbo, you are a predator that hunts people. It doesn’t matter if you ‘know better.’ You need to eat. You need it. Talking ethics, if you want to ease your guilt, you should limit the time you spend interacting with people in the body you’ve made for yourself, but even then, you’re only preparing yourself a better meal. It is not evil. People can hate you for it, but that’s not any different from how a rabbit might hate a fox. It is not any different.”

Mumbo quieted, knowing little of what to say. It was different. It was different because Mumbo hated doing it, he hated having to do it, he hated fighting with himself, and he hated being This. He liked people. He liked being a person, he liked living among them, he liked it all so much more than he liked himself.

“But I don’t want to. I don’t want to need it. I want to stay here, stay human. I want to be human. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Well,” Cub said, voice softer, sympathetic for the first time since Mumbo had joined him on his desk. “That’s a separate can of worms, isn’t it.”

Mumbo didn’t speak for a long time. He kept his eyes closed. He didn’t want to see Cub. Cub, who was looking at him, looking directly through him.

“I guess so.” The words were so quiet, they hardly passed Mumbo’s lips before they were nothing.

“Well, here’s what I think, Mumbo,” Cub started, the softness dissipating in favor of something calmer, more logical, “I think you have a lot to say about what will or won’t keep you sentient longer, but for someone so confident cannibalism won’t work, you certainly haven’t tried it. So you’re going to try it. See if this can be a temporary possible-solution until we can find a more permanent one. I need time to work this out, and I refuse to let you keep starving yourself out of shame.”

“You- What? You think you can-“

“I don’t think I can do anything,” Cub interrupted, voice hard, “But those woodland mansions have a hell of a lot of books, and I happen to enjoy looking through them. Scar and I are always looking for something to do. So.” Cub looked back at Mumbo from where he was staring out the window, “Are you willing to try? It’s a little cramped in here, so I think it would be better to go somewhere else, somewhere I could run from you, if you like that. Outside might be ideal as well, so we don’t have to clean up so much. We could probably-“

“I- Wait, Cub, please wait,” Mumbo needed to interrupt him, needed to stop him, but when Cub did stop, waiting for Mumbo to continue, he found his mouth dry.

“What.”

“I can’t. Not yet. I’m not ready.”

Cub looked just about ready to kill him, and honestly Mumbo didn’t blame him, but the mental block was still there, he was just so- he didn’t even know, and maybe that was the worst part. He was scared. His limbs were stiff and numb, and even with the shrill screams of desperate starvation in his ears, he couldn’t bring himself to move.

Cub took a long, deep breath, barely holding on to his composure, “Mumbo, if we don’t do something to stall for time-“

“Eat me. Eat me first. Do it all, everything I would do to you, draw it out, make it hurt. I need- I need to know how it feels. I need this.”

Cub paused, eyes narrowed in thought. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Mumbo. You don’t need more excuses to back down. I’ve had my fair share of being torn apart, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“I’ll do it. I promise I’ll do it, I’ll eat my whole damn fill if you want me to, Cub, but I need this first. I have to know.” Mumbo had no idea where this had come from; the feverish desperation, but now it was all he could think about, knowing, he had to know, he had to face what he’d done directly, and then he could swallow this pill and move on.

Cub considered him, eyes still narrowed.

“Alright. Fine.” he closed his eyes, inclining his head then opening them with a smile, “We’ll do it in the labyrinth.”

[fandonnavyce]

Jason in Wonderland

Crossover Danuary Day 4

Day 1 - Ben 10 Xover Tucker escapes Space Prison with the help of his two best friends

Day 2 - Atla Xover Hey, remember when Sokka got kidnapped into the Spirit World?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Slush kicks up in Jason’s wake as he stomps down Gotham’s street on Christmas Day.  Icy hands are bunched up in their sleeves, his curled fists jammed into his jacket’s pockets. The freezing wind slaps his face and Jason’s pissed he can’t slap it back.

“I’M LATE, I’M LATE! FOR A VERY IMPORTANT DATE! NO TIME TO SAY HELLO, GOODBYE, I’M LATE, I’M LATE, I’M LATE!” 

Speeding right past, and nearly bowling Jason over like a wrecking ball, a giant fucking rabbit thunders past. Jason stares in sheer astonishment as it hippity-hops and leaps into a massive green portal that Jason had apparently been too blind to notice until now.

Jason whips his head round to see if any other Gothamite is seeing this.

No one is seeing this.

And not in that ‘I see nothing cause that ain’t my business’ kind of way. His fellow Gothamite pedestrians are genuinely fully oblivious to the glowing hole in the fabric of reality and the giant anthropomorphic unseasonal Easter Bunny in their midst that had just bounced right into it.  

(Warning Long Post)

Coming out from the green glowing portal was the head of a werewolf peeking out, then the rest of its bestial body (clothed in a ragged green tracksuit) follows.

"That's probably everyone," says the werewolf as it lingers in front of the portal. It turns to head back into the portal.

On sheer impulse, Jason sprints down the street. Jason can feel the attention he’s drawing. He's 6 foot tall, has the shoulders of a linebacker, and is pounding the pavement like there are lives on the line. His fellow Gothamites calmly adjust out of his way.

The werewolf disappears through the green portal. With a desperate leap, Jason charges in right after.

Jason feels the portal close behind him.

Line break  

Then Jason is violently, painfully ill.

A burning sensation quickly builds inside his chest. A blistering heat is searing his heart. His heart thrashes in agony. Jason doubles over. His skin starts itching. Starts crawling. Jason’s fingers want to peel and pry the skin off his flesh for relief. Have slick wet blood gush and soothe his skin. Have the bleeding tears let his skin breathe in relief.  His hands are busy gagging his threatening vomit at the outbreak of his sudden vicious nausea. 

Then gravity decides to fuck around.

Jason is now plummeting, spiralling downwards into an unknowing, endless fall. 

There’s nothing more rage-inducing than being suddenly violently and incomprehensibly ill whilst in the midsts of fucking freefall. 

Jason’s screams shatter the air.

The werewolf whirls around. He sees the displaced, living human uncontrollably falling in a panicked frenzy behind him.

"Nu, tio ne estas bona". (Well that's not good).

With a single bound, Wulf approaches the human, then he smartly opens up another portal beneath the falling mortal, in order to send the human back to the physical realm, Gotham. 

But just as the human dipped into the portal, Wulf looks on in horror. He realises that the human was having a violent seizure whilst free falling. In the split second of that realisation, the human’s violent reaction interferes with his portal’s spatial displacement.

A clash of green, bursting light and hissing red blinds him. 

Once he can see again, the portal and the human are both gone.  Wulf doesn’t know where that young man has gone but he doubts it was Gotham, Earth.

Wulf sends thoughts and prayers for the young man.

Line break

“Fuuuuuuuuck!!!” 

Jason yells out into the uncaring green void when it finally stopped spinning. 

The fire in his chest died down to a thrumming burn; painful but tolerable. The skin crawling had lessened to a frustrating itch, the horrendous nausea was now motion sickness.   

"Hey Leather Jacket, you good?”

Coming to a slow stop next to him was a couple riding a motorcycle. Their skin colour was ash grey and the lady had unnatural green hair. 

“That’s fine”, thought Jason. “Everything’s unnatural here anyway.”

“You lost or something?" The man asks. Jason looks around at the swirling green void of a sky and floating broken islands he was drifting between.

"Yeah, you could say that. You wouldn't happen to know where Gotham is?" Jason asked without much hope.

"Oh yeah we know Gotham," the lady answered helpfully. Jason felt hope surge within. Maybe, he wasn’t completely fucked. "You’ll find it thataway. The Revolving River of Doors has recently migrated back so if you head over Skulker’s Island - “

“Do you know where Skulker’s Island is?” the dude interrupted. 

“Of course he knows where it is. Everyone knows where it is, amirite.” The girl smiles leadingly at Jason. Jason stares blankly back. The girl's eyebrows fly off her head in surprise. Just like a cartoon character. Silently, Jason watches the eyebrows float back into place. 

“Oh so you don’t know. How about that Johnny?”

“Yeah, how about that. You a hermit or something?”

“Or something” Jason bites back.

“Well anyway,” the girl continues, “from where we’re standing, Skulker’s Island is just a short Hunt away. The island has a gigantic skull stuck on it, so you can’t miss it.”

“You really can’t. A blind man can see that damn thing for miles.”

“You really can. Right so, once you’ve reached Skulker’s Island,”

“No wait, how do I get to Skulker’s Island?”

“Like I just said,” the lady repeats impatiently, “it’s only a short Hunt away.”

“... right, but to get there, which direction should I take?”

“Whichever one you please,” the girl answers airily, “it’s a short Hunt away.”

“Right, right. It’s a short hunt away. OK. But in which direction should I go from here?”

“Well that depends a good deal on how you want to get there?”

“I don’t much care how—” said Jason.

“Then it doesn’t matter which way you go,” said the lady.

“—so long as I actually get there,” Jason added, exasperated.

“Oh, you’re sure to do that,” she said, “it’s just a short Hunt away.”

“So what you’re trying to tell me is that I can pick any direction?”

“Any direction”

“Any direction at all,” the guy chimes in.

“And I’ll find Skulker’s Island,” Jason continues.

“Only a short Hunt away, exactly” the lady finishes. “So once there, you’ll want to head on over it. Not under it or around it but over it. If you try to go under or around it, you’ll likely end up in Alaska.”

The biker dude frowns at his girl, “Not Ember’s Lair?”

“Nah they’ve broken up.”

“Oh like for real?”

“This time maybe, yeah.”

“Ooof. What did Skulker do?”

“Get this. He forgot her Death Day.”

The dude gasped, “He forgot! But she has a wholeass song!”

“Fucking exactly! That’s what I said when Jazz told me.”

“RIP Skulker.”

“RIP Skulker.”

“A babe like that was out of his league anyway,” the dude leers. His girlfriend smacks him unimpressed.

“Why’d you smack me? I’m right!”

“I didn’t like the way you said it.” The girlfriend retorts, her hand on her hips.

“You didn’t like-” the dude acts flabbergasted, “oh c’mon Kitty, I didn’t mean nothing by it, so why are you”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Jason interrupts unsorry, “but as the lady was saying?”

“Oooh lady,” she smiles, “I like the sound of that.”

The greasy haired ginger turns and death glares at Jason, which Jason ignores.

“So where was I?”

“That I should head over, not around or under, but over the island with the giant skull on it...”

“Right, so above Skulker’s Island you’ll see the Revolving River of Doors. And one of those doors will be a Purple Travesty to Gothic Art Deco. That's the door to Gotham.”

"But why are you heading on over to Gotham anyway?” the ginger-haired biker asks, now slouching grumpily over his handlebars. “You ain't attending the King's Not Christmas Shindig?"

The green-haired lady perks up, "Speaking of the King, bet he'd luuurve to see you."

Jason was sceptical, “Why would your King want to see me?”

“More like why wouldn’t he want to see you?” the biker dude drawled, “Like who even are you?”

“Someone who's way more confused than they were when they woke up this morning.”

“Oh!” the girl snapped her fingers, “You wouldn’t happen to want to adopt the King?”

“Or End the King”

“Or kill his Pops?”

“Or fuck his Mama?”

“Make his clones?”

“Mess with things beyond your power?”  

“And then dump the responsibility onto his lap?”

“Before ditching him to save your own skin?”

“...” Jason defensively crossed his arms. 

The couple were now leaning into his space, waiting attentively for his answer with creepy smiles on their faces.

“... No, I don’t want to do any of that.” 

“Awesome, then you’re perfect!” the girl cheered.

“Perfect, how? For not being a madman?!”

“Well c’mon now” the guy drawled, “we’re all mad here.” 

The couple’s grins grew wider.

Ooof if you managed to get all the way down here then don't forget to reblog to spread the post!😊

@crossoverdanuary

[biohazardousbunnywrites]

h0rny hours frfr

Fade

Cassandra Dimitrescu x fem!reader

i wont apologize for marking you up, everyone needs to know who you belong to, in fact, some of them are starting to fade. lets fix that.

warnings: possessive sex, strap on use on r, marking, bondage, degradation, overstimulation

summary: when a maid gets to familiar with Cassandra's girlfriend, you, she needs to lay her claim so everyone sees who you belong to.

Cassandra was fuming, watching you and the bold maid in the corner. you two had been in the library, Cassandra cuddling you while you read to her. a maid came in to the room to clean. neither one of you paid her any attention. Until you got up to go get another book to read.

as you scoured the shelves, the maid came over "that ones pretty good" she commented looking over at the book in your hand, "yeah, its one of my favorites" you responded. Cassandra perked up at your voices eyes looking over suspicious of the maids intentions.

nothing happened for a bit as you two conversed about books. then the maid completely forgetting the predator in the room touched you. a friendly, unassuming touch, but a touch nonetheless and that was enough to enrage the woman.

she stormed over grabbing you "we're going back to my room" she said pulling you away from the maid and out of the room.

"cassie please, you did this last night and im still marked up"

"obviously not enough seeing as that bitch thinks she can touch you" she snarled finally arriving at her room pulling in and slamming the door behind you. she began pulling at your clothes ignoring your protest.

"It was nothing Cassie, everyone knows im yours, please calm down" you said trying to slow her hand as they frantically pulled at fabric. She had some anxieties about you leaving for someone better than her. you always tried to reassure her but sometimes like right now it was useless.

Cassandra finally finished undressing you and pushing you onto the bed, she gazed hungrily at your marked up body from last nights jealousy fueled fuck. marks from the week before still present.

"i wont apologize for marking you up, everyone needs to know who you belong to, in fact, some of them are starting to fade. lets fix that." she said trailing her fingers gently over the older bruises. you bit back a moan as her slender fingers lightly touched and explored your body.

she gently touched your pussy smirking "for someone who complains when i fuck you like this, you're so wet. perhaps we should skip the foreplay and see if you can just take my cock" she said flicking clit causing your hips to buck and you to whimper.

she leans over you and kisses you, her tongue slipping past your lips rubbing up against yours, you moan and try to tug on her clothes when she pins them down. "nu uh, no touching, im doing the touching rn. if you're a good little slut for me, perhaps ill let you do the same" you whine at that wanting to feel your girlfriends skin against yours, but nod nonetheless. she smirks as she gets up. going into her bedside table draw pulling out some rope and her favorite strap on, "and just to insure you do behave" she takes hold of your hands tying them together after a brief pause waiting for a sign of consent from you. once shes done your arms are tied together above your head fastened to the headboard.

she kisses you again before slipping on the harness of her strap. its very her. definitely big but not obnoxiously thick, very long though with a curve upwards and a nice deep red. settling back between you open legs she slides her fingers through your wet folds gathering your wetness and spreading it all over her cock. she moans as she does so. Cassandra is so utterly addicted to you. she runs the tip of toy through your folds casuing you to moan out and whimper. "you're all mine baby. mine" she says before slipping into your hole. both of you moaning and gasping at the act. she'll never get tired of the way she can slide so easily into you. how you well you take her, and you will never get tired of feeling her fill you up, how she stretches you to accommodate her.

she gives you a second before she starts thrusting into you. you cant hold in the sounds she pulls from you and she relishes in that fact. "i bet that whore would never make feel like i can" she groans out watch your bodies connect. she loves watching her red toy disappear into your heat, its almost enough to make her cum as she sees that white ring of yours start form at the base. "you're the most perfect slut, you just love to be used dont you, you're cumming already and ive barely touched you" she gasps out feeling you trying to keep her cock in you. she speds up holding your legs open so you dont clamp them shut as you cum.

your back arches, you pull on those damned restraints. she laughs as she leans down and gets to work marking you up, she bites on your flesh and sucks ensuring your bruises are nice and dark. she thrusts harder as your moans and whimpers gain in volume. the bed rocks under her force as she brings you to another orgasm. "c-cassie, i cant-" you gasp out as she doesn't stop. she releases the nipple she had in her mouth and laughs, "yes you can and you will, bc your mine, mine to use, mine to fuck, mine to love. mine." your eyes roll back your head as she flicks your clit while thrusting particularly hard.

once shes had her fill of marking you up and making you mess on her strap does she finally pull out. she cums herself purely at the sight of her strap covered in your slick and how your abused hole looks, twitching and clenching. she almost wants to slip back in there for one more round but you're exhausted and she's gotten it out of her system.

she cleans you up gently before slipping you both under the covers, she's so unexpectedly soft in moments like this it still makes your headspin. she kisses your forehead. "you're such a good girl for me, i love you." you snuggle into her kissing her neck as you do so. "i love you too" you said drowsiness setting in. you gave her neck one more kiss on the marks you've made on her a few days prior after she got a little to friendly with a maid, they were also starting to fade, you would fix that come morning but for now you slept. ok maybe your both just a tad bit possessive of eachother.

an: i forgot I was writing this but its finished. hope you enjoy.

[viktoriaashleyyx]

Thank you for the tag @yaralulu !! Its nice to feel included ♥

Describe your writing process from idea to posting/publishing?

I get the best ideas while driving or showering and then struggle to remember them later.

Its a mess, it truly is, i have thrown away everything my hs teachers taught me. I have 35 WIPs that as soon as I think of a scene, ill spit it out and then move onto the next. I am writing CH 15 of my fic while CH11 remains bare and empty.

Are you a plotter or a pantser?

I have no idea what a pantser is tbh, I just started writing 2 mos ago. Still catching up with the lingo and all the different sites I need to learn.

I generally have an idea of a plot, and at the top of every CH or Word doc I will write a brief synopsis of what I want to happen, but for the most part i am possessed by the characters and I am just as shocked as yall are about what came out of my fingertips.

What do you listen to when you are writing?

Studio Ghibli Study music. I draw a lot of inspiration from BVB, MIW, Heather Dale and Misbehavin Maidens, but while I am actually writing I cannot listen to lyrics because my ADHD paired with my dyslexia will have me out here just writing the lyrics down.

There might be a Tarquin Bonus Chapter coming that is based off The Maiden and the selkie by Heather dale but shhh!.

What’s your drink of choice(while writing)?

It depends on Time of Day but I am the stereotypical 3 drinks at once person: 1 for hydration (water), 1 for caffeine (tea or coffee, I have a terrible addiction to both), and 1 for fun (hot cocoa, dr. pepper, or kool aid)

Promote yourself! What’s your favorite thing you’ve written?

I do really like my main fic A Court Reborn, it is a self indulgent fun story to write and a few people seem to love it, which I am floored by. I honestly did not think it was going to do well being my first multi chap fic and all. It often has me crying over my keyboard going "Lucien will be happy if it kills me." While it is a Pro Tamlin, Tam x OC, It also focuses on building and encouraging Lucien and Nestas healing to set them up for Elucien and Neris respectively.

But I also love the accessibility of my one shots/ drabbles, reader fics. Not everyone has the time to invest into reading a full fic so a quick chap to make you feel better before you continue scrolling is great.

Share a fic of yours that you think is underrated/deserves more love.

I did kinda hope for Lucien and Eris Make Up to do better than it did, but I am a new writer, not everything is going to stick and do phenomenal. I like it, and thats what matters ♥

Do you have any advice for new writers?

Comparison is the thief of joy, but also, it is understandable that you would like some feedback for your writing, I feel the same way!

I miss a lot on here, if you are one of my moots and you feel your fic did not get enough love, tag me! Send it to me! I will hype you up!! I follow you for a reason, and that reason is that I think you are great and anything you post, even if we have never had a conversation before, I want to read it!!

What is a writing style/technique that others do really well that you'd like to get better at?

Slowing down, fleshing out the scene. I get too excited when I write and rely heavily on Cannons depictions of the places themselves. I feel I am getting better at it though and reading back through my fic I can see in real time my writing improve and I think that is pretty cool.

Is there a character you were surprised you enjoyed writing as much as you did?

Lucien. I am enjoying babying him. "Yes you are a powerful Heir to Day Court, but you also deserve head scratches and forehead kisses." No my OC is not going to end up with Lucien romantically, my goal is to convey a loving older sister figure to him. Yes there will be a part where she clashes with Eris over him "hes not YOUR little brother"/ "he is now"

On the flip side, Tarquin is proving more difficult. In my head he is so calm, cool and collected, but I myself am chaotic. I am trying so hard to do his character the justice he deserves.

I am tagging: @farintonorth @1800naveen @matrixsss @positivelyruined @merwgue @bxriles @sad-scarred-sassy

And anyone else!!

[norel-ravenclaw]

Idk if your requests are still open but

Can you do a fanfic where instead of MC ending up with Lynt, MC accepts Roy’s feelings the second time he confesses to her and the aftermath?

Please and thank you 🙏

Drowning

Fandom: Court of Darkness (otome game)

Featured characters: Roy (& Lynt)

Genre: Angsty betrayal romance

Rating: 14+ suggestive

Word count: 1680

Description: MC initially fell for Lynt, but then realizes that Roy is the one who truly has their heart.

A/N: Some dark dastardly part of me has been craving a fic about Roy winning over MC from someone else. 😈 He’s always falling for them, and damn, MC could have so much less angst and struggle with him! He deserves his happy ending. So thanks for requesting anon!

WARNINGS: | cheating and betrayal | gender neutral reader | Roy definitely has yandere tendencies but I think its kinda hot lol | angst |

…It’s happening again. Here, in Lynt’s warm embrace, wishing to be somewhere else.

His chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm. I finally realize - I know that rhythm better than I know anything else about him.

But I shake away such thoughts. He’s my paramour. We could have such an amazing future. I’ve been reading up on Akedia while he sleeps. …I’ve learned so much.

Just as another sigh escapes my lips, a voice pulls me from my reverie. I look up in a start to see Roy standing in front of the lounge sofa, a bemused grin on his lips.

“There you are. I have called your name several times now. Whatever has captured your mind so?”

I shake my head and put on a smile. “Nothing, nothing. What can I do for you, Prince Roy?”

His brows waver in a displeased furrow for a brief moment. “Please, you do not need to use such formality with me.” Swallowing, he shifts his weight, looking uncharacteristically ill at ease. “Might I steal a moment of your time?”

I glance at Lynt’s sleeping face, easily judging how deep his slumber is. And so I nod. “Alright, he has a few more minutes.”

Roy smiles, chuckling quietly as I carefully extricate myself from his arms, replacing myself with a pillow. We watch him snuggle it contentedly, and step away.

Holding out his hand, Roy offers me a dashing smile. “Would you do me the honour of joining me here?” He nods towards the spiral staircase leading up to the royals’ private library.

“If you’d like.”

Taking his hand, we ascend to the upper floor, going to the far end so we risk waking Lynt less.

I look out the window of the small balcony in curiosity, but Roy doesn’t let go of my hand. Turning back to him, his expression is intense. He looks nearly pained.

“Roy?”

He draws a deep breath, taking my other hand as well. “I can bear it no longer. Please, please forgive me, but I cannot go another day without letting my feelings be known.”

My heart speeds up, and I freeze.

His gold eyes hold me captive as time slows around us. “From the moment I first laid eyes on you, all I have wanted to do is protect you. You have consumed my thoughts, night and day. I want to show you my world, give you the world.”

The pain in his eyes is as evident as his hope. “Please, consider me. Prince Lynt is a dear friend, but I can give you so much more than he can. I can make you so much happier.”

Before I’ve fully realized it, I’ve pulled my hands away from his. I can practically hear the sound of his heart shattering, unable to look away from his eyes in that split second that lasts far too long.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“No, no. There is nothing to apologize for. I am the one out of line to suggest such an unworthy thing to you.” I watch him place his mask back on, then take a step back. “I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

With a stiff bow, he turns to leave. Too late, I reach a hand out to stop him.

“Roy! Wait!”

But he’s already gone.

Taking a shaky breath, I go to leave down the stairs as well. As I reach the bottom, I see Lynt sitting up, and both our eyes go to Roy as he briskly leaves the lounge.

The blond yawns and looks to me with a furrowed brow. “What happened with Roy?”

My heart beats uncomfortably as I shake my head. “Nothing. He was just… was stressed and wanted to talk.”

I hold his gaze. It’s not a lie, I tell myself. Not at all.

Finally Lynt nods. “Oh.” And just like that, he’s let it go. He holds out his arms with a smile, and I return to him.

Settling back into his arms, for the first time, I don’t blush when he nuzzles my hair.

…

A month passes.

I sit in Lynt’s quarters again. Rain sheets down outside. I turned the lights out an hour ago. Tino is in bed in the other room.

My lover is still asleep on the sofa in the corner.

With an exasperated, strangled sigh, the tears finally slip down.

Desperate to get out, to make it stop, I jump up and leave. My feet carry me without any thought, and suddenly, I’m in the cold.

The rain strikes my skin quickly washing away my tears. I walk out of the dorms in a hurry to get somewhere, anywhere but here. Enough coherent thought leads me towards the greenhouse.

But before I reach it, the rain picks up even more. No longer able to ignore it, I switch to the other path that leads to the bridge. I hug myself tightly, sobbing uncontrollably alone in the dark.

“What are you doing?!”

I spin around in shock.

“R-Roy?!”

He stands at the other side of the bridge, just as soaked as I am, his jacket and, seemingly, his princely demeanor left behind.

“I saw you leave the dorms. What were you thinking going out in this storm?” He marches up to me, grabbing me by the arms. I’ve never seen him look so distraught.

“I… it’s Lynt. Roy, what do I do?”

I burrow into his chest, sobs still shaking me. “Lynt was so kind and soft towards me when I fell into this world. I didn’t know what was happening, or who to trust. But he was uninterested in my power. All he wanted was to avoid conflict and… and hold me while he slept. It saved me.”

I weakly pound a fist against his shoulder. “And… I’m drowning again. I don’t know what to do.”

Roy holds me close and tight. “Forgive me for saying this, but I wonder… Perhaps you were just grateful to your saviour. Perhaps you liked him, but never truly loved him…?”

My breath and heart stop at once. “No… What have I done?”

Suddenly Roy puts his hands on my shoulders. “Listen to me. It’s not too late. Choose me.”

I look up at him in shock and horror. “But… how could I?”

A second later, his lips are on mine. His arms wrap around me, crushing me against him.

“R-Roy! Mhm!”

“Choose me. I will give you everything you want.” He kisses me again, his tongue pushing into my mouth forcefully. “I’ll give you everything you need. Be mine. I must have you. I can’t see you suffering any longer.”

He kisses me again, and I can’t help but kiss him back.

And we stay here, kissing like mad fools in the rain. His hands roam all over me, clinging and pulling me to him. I entwine my fingers in his hair.

The golden glow of his magic aura fills the misty space with an otherworldly glow, almost like dawn has already arrived.

After some time, we finally break for air. I gasp and sob into the empty night, Roy stroking my back and hair comfortingly.

“Come, we have to dry you off or you’ll catch cold.”

He takes my hand and we run back to the dorm building. Again, we get lucky as no one is around.

…Until we get upstairs.

I freeze as Lynt catches sight of us. His eyes widen at the drenched state of us.

“What happened?”

Roy steps in front of me, and I see Lynt draw a sharp breath. His brows furrow into a look I’ve never seen on him. Tino comes around the corner just then, seeing the three of us locked in a stare down.

“Oh my stars…”

Lynt’s hands are balled into fists. “Roy. What did you do to them?”

“You can’t give them what they need. I can. Relinquish them to me.”

You could hear the drops of water coming off our clothes in the moment that follows.

“No.” His emerald eyes settle on me. “Tell me it’s not true.”

I can’t think of anything to say. “…I’m sorry.”

He starts forward, and Tino scrambles to hold him back. “Young Master! Let them go! Don’t do anything you’ll regret! Oh Vane, if you still love them, let them go.”

He looks devastated as Roy pulls me towards his chambers.

I hold tightly to his arm as Lynt calls my name over and over.

But then it stops. We stand at his door, looking to each other. Lynt doesn’t make another sound, and we step inside.

After locking the door, Roy pulls me into his arms again. “I will take care of things, don’t worry. We’ll be fine. I promise.”

I grip his soaked shirt, my hands starting to tremble from the cold. “How could I do this to someone so sweet? He doesn’t deserve this…”

He lifts my chin a little forcefully, his eyes filled with love and determination. “And you do not deserve to be with someone who makes you feel trapped. I will not let you drown.”

Kissing me again, he seems startled as I tug him back further into his chambers.

Trembling now from head to toe, I meet his eye. “We need to warm up and dry off.”

Slowly, he nods. “Yes. …Forgive me, I am not sure if I can hold back.”

His words and the intensity gleaming in his eyes make me blush fiercely. My voice comes out quietly. “Well… I think it’d be alright if you touched me a little…”

Seeing my reservation, he gently pets my hair. “Never fear, I will not do anything you dislike. Perhaps… you are used to taking things slowly and quietly. I can start like that if it would set you at ease.”

The reality of our situation is settling in, and I shiver from more than just the cold. With my nod, Roy smiles and lifts me into his arms.

“Come now, my darling. I will never let you go uncared for or unsatisfied ever again.”

[feelingpoorly]

For You- Part 2

If you've not checked out part 1 yet, you can find it below! (Who knows if I've linked it correctly or not, I hope so lol)

But anyway, Part 2 is finally here! Hope you enjoy :)

---

Evening was drawing in on them, yet their progress was painfully slow. She was struggling to keep him upright now; he barely seemed able to hold his head up let alone walk. They’d been walking in silence only occasionally broken by his pained groans, until he suddenly stopped moving altogether. 

“‘Las?” She prompted gently, concern filling her eyes as she took in his face as he blanched chalk white. She could feel him trembling under her touch, and it was obvious he felt awful.

“Taur- I don’t… feel well…” he managed thickly, bringing a shaking hand up to cover his mouth. Suddenly he pulled away from her and stumbled towards the nearest tree, barely catching himself on it. 

Everything was spinning. He wasn’t sure whether he was frozen to the bone or boiling from the inside out. Something was very wrong with him but he felt so ill that it was all he could focus on.

She rushed after him but before she could even reach him, he collapsed to the ground and was violently sick, his stomach cramping so painfully that it caused him to groan out loud. He was sprawled across the floor, just barely holding himself up on shaking arms as he continued to be miserably sick, his stomach lurching as he retched and heaved, every movement tearing fresh agony through his injured side as the muscles in his abdomen spasmed and tensed involuntarily, making him want to cry out in pain.

Tauriel gasped, quickly falling to her knees beside him as she tended gently to him, holding him upright when his own arms couldn’t support him. It didn’t take long before he had thrown up everything he had eaten that day, but the sickness was relentless. 

She rubbed his back; he was throwing up bile now, shaking like a leaf. Eventually, only when there was truly nothing left inside him, he fell back into her, his body worryingly hot in her arms. His insides were still churning and he felt horrifically nauseous but apparently his body had purged all it could, the dry heaves ripping his body to shreds and tearing at his throat. On instinct she felt his forehead and her heart fell as she realised whilst he had been ice cold earlier, he was now running a temperature. 

This was so much worse than she had realised. It had been bad enough to begin with but now it was obvious that something was very, very wrong.

“I’m… so sorry…” his voice was low and thick with nausea, as he fought desperately to maintain control over his stomach and not start heaving again. He felt mortified that she should have to see this, yet at the same time as his body endeavoured to rid him of everything he’d ever eaten, he felt far too exhausted and sick to dwell on it too much.

“You have nothing to apologise for!” She reassured him, laying him down as he weakly complied, too spent to protest. Legolas had hoped the humiliation was over, but his features creased in discomfort and he moaned as his stomach rolled again. Tauriel gently wiped his face of what he had thrown up. He felt so miserable that he didn’t even resist. 

“Something is wrong.” She worried, taking his wrist in her hand to find his pulse racing and far, far too fast. She bit her lip and tried to stay calm for his sake. “I need to look at your wound.” Legolas barely made a noise in reply, too concerned with the nausea that still refused to release its hold on him. 

She had a horrible feeling what could be causing this sudden sickness, and as she pulled away his shirt, her worst fears were confirmed. 

“Poison…” 

Thin black tendrils spread across his fair skin, branching out from where the arrow still resided. 

“This cannot go on. We need to get this arrow out of you, now.”

“It is not possible…” he replied quietly, his voice so hoarse and painful sounding she barely understood him. He swallowed thickly and winced. 

“We have no choice… I-“

“No, Tauriel. It’s barbed.” He closed his eyes in defeat. He felt absolutely awful and he knew it was only going to continue getting worse until they got the wretched thing out of him.

“Barbed? How do you know?” She was glad she hadn’t acted on instinct and yanked it out of him as soon as they realised it was poisoned. 

“I recognise these arrows, I’ve seen them before…” he was feeling worse again, his breathing hitching nauseously “-can’t remove them… barbed…”

He reached into his cloak and shakily handed her the other end of the shaft she had snapped off. She inspected it, a wave of dread crashing over her as she realised he was right. She hadn’t realised he’d kept it, but it was a good job he had. Judging by the way it had bled earlier, she could’ve killed him in a matter of minutes if she’d tried to yank out a barbed arrow.

“Ai valar…” Tauriel blanched herself. This couldn’t be happening. They were still so far from help. She looked around frantically- they were rapidly losing the light, and it was becoming increasingly apparent that getting him back to the palace tonight was impossible with him in this condition. But the alternative was almost just as unthinkable. If she could just get him through the night… Tauriel knew if they hadn’t returned by morning, someone would notice they were missing and realise they were in trouble, and a rescue party would be sent out. 

However…the dark forests of Mirkwood were a dangerous place. Not only would she have to get them through the night, she also had to somehow keep her very sick companion alive.  

Beside her, Legolas weakly rolled to his side and was sick again, and whilst she rubbed his back as he heaved, her mind was made up. 

He wasn’t well enough to be going anywhere. A rescue party was their only hope.

“Do you think you can stand?” She asked him, her voice thick with worry. It was a stupid question. Even as she spoke, Tauriel was still holding the blonde elf’s hair back, but Legolas’ exhausted body could barely muster the strength to retch anymore. 

An uneasy groan was the only reply he could manage; his throat felt like it had been scrubbed raw with the bark of oak and his stomach was aching fiercely, although whether it was just from the exertion or instead the poison, he couldn’t tell. The incessant heaving had only succeeded in massively aggravating the wound, and slowly and painfully he curled into a tight ball of misery. Another cramp laced through him and he swallowed down another treacherous lurch of his stomach, groaning slightly. 

“Goheno nin...” Forgive me… She apologised gently when he was evidently unable to respond, her delicate fingers deftly braiding more of his loose hair back into a thicker fishtail absentmindedly, her heart sinking as she realised why she was doing so. The sickness, and indeed everything else, was only going to get worse. She was anxious to move him somewhere safer and more sheltered as soon as possible, but he had also just been very very sick and he didn’t look like he was even up to moving, let alone standing.

“Just- give me a- a minute…” he whispered, letting out a tense breath and clearing his throat roughly. He closed his eyes and tried to compose himself, hating how weak he felt, how little control he had of his body. After a few long moments, he opened his heavy eyes to see her kneeling next to him, watching him with a heartbreaking look of concern.

Maybe it was because he felt so lightheaded and out of it; his senses so preoccupied with the pain and sickness, or maybe it was the fact that for the first time in his long life, he realised he knew what it felt to fear death, but in that moment, he reached out his hand and grasped hers weakly in his own. 

Tauriel took his limp, blood stained hand in both of her own. She blew her warm breath into her cupped hands to try and warm his ice cold fingers. 

A fresh pang of sadness and guilt ran through her. It was because of her that he was in this awful state. They had been inseparable since they were elflings, yet all of that had long since changed, and up until tonight she wasn’t entirely sure you could even call them friends anymore. More: “reluctant acquaintances”. Neither of them ever made reference to how close they used to be, they treated each other with the cold indifference that you might any stranger that you were forced to spend time with.

Yet, he’d literally taken an arrow for her, seemingly without a moment's hesitation. 

Why?

Legolas was trembling dreadfully. Without thinking Tauriel took a blanket out of her pack and started to wrap him in it. However, when she touched his bare skin, she thought better of it. Frowning, she abandoned the blanket, and rested the back of her hand on his forehead for a moment. 

“You’re burning…” She said quietly, turning her hand to check his temperature once more.

He looked up at her in confusion. 

“But… it’s so cold...” For the first time in their long lives, she saw fear in his eyes and she hated it. 

“We need to get you somewhere safe, we can’t stay out here. If we do not return by sunrise, they will send for help.” Tauriel mused as she hastily busied herself, collecting up their things. She was grateful for the distraction of something to do, and also for the way her red hair hung like a curtain over her face as she felt a solitary tear rolled down her cheek. 

She was trying to reassure both of them, but he looked so awful that she was worried he didn’t have until morning. 

Unbeknownst to Silvan elf, Legolas’ eyes followed Tauriel as she fumbled with her pack, trying to distract himself from how bad he was feeling inside. She had almost pointedly turned her back on him, but he could guess why. She looked so sad that Legolas’ heart hurt. He had caused all of this. He’d been so stupid to have allowed himself to be injured and put all of this worry and responsibility on her. He should’ve taken out that orc before it even had a chance to shoot at her. He should’ve noticed it sooner, intercepted it with his own arrow, he should have…

She was alive. That was all that mattered. As long as she was alive, it would have been worth it. 

His vision blurred and he blinked hard, shaking his head slightly trying to bring everything back into focus. His brow furrowed in frustration and discomfort as he massaged his temples. It was making his head ache.  

He closed his eyes as everything started swimming in the most disorientating way- his head was pounding horribly now and every part of him ached dreadfully.

“Ready?” He heard Tauriel ask him, but couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes. He took several deep, shaky breaths and tried to muster what little strength he had left.

He’d been hit a few inches above his left hip, and due to the location of the arrow, the poison had affected his stomach the worst. The sickness was awful and it had hit him so intensely. He knew there would be more symptoms from the poison to come as it spread through his body, but right now the debilitating nausea was all he could focus on. It had come on so suddenly and severely that it had left him drained and weak and shaking all over, but the worst part was that he knew it was far, far from over. 

In truth, he really didn’t think standing would be a good idea. He knew he had to try, but as predicted, it was indeed not a good idea. Legolas shut his eyes as his hand darted to his mouth, praying to the Valar that he would not be sick again. 

“Ai Legolas…” Tauriel was immediately at his side, rubbing soothing circles on his back as he fought to keep his stomach down. 

“There’s a rangers hut… it’s not far.” His voice was tight and strained with nausea. He knew there was no way he’d be able to stand and walk feeling like this. His limbs felt like lead and the prickly lightheadedness was doing little to help how sick he felt. 

Tauriel slowly and carefully helped him struggle up until he was laying back against her, panting heavily. She saw the blood drain from his face as he lost what little colour he had left and went a worrying shade of white, his body fervently resisting being upright. 

“Easy…” she soothed, wrapping her arm around him more firmly in a bid to try and keep him upright. She held him tightly as he swayed dangerously to one side, stifling a moan behind clenched teeth. The ground beneath him was pitching and swaying, and Tauriel just about managed to catch him as he nearly slumped sideways again, clearly disorientated and extremely dizzy.

“‘Ri…” his voice was slurred and tinged with urgency. Feeling worse than he ever remembered, he was unable to hold back a deep groan, unsure whether he was about to throw up, pass out, or both. 

Legolas went limp in her arms and Tauriel yelped in shock, her heart lurching in her chest as she cradled him gently, a tear running down her cheek as she felt his frail body burning up under her touch. 

She knew the hut he spoke of. It was not too far from where they were now. 

She shifted carefully, keeping his unconscious and worryingly feverish form held close against her chest with one arm, and awkwardly slung both their packs and his bow onto her back with the other. 

She lifted him into her arms and ran. 

[employee052]

semi vent fic

intentionally written incredibly vauge but if you know this blog, then you can probably guess what its about kashjdlkasd

also, they are not talking about something in particular. this was written both to collect my thoughts and calm down so im sorry if something sounds wrong or theres a spelling error.

---

a man in a green jacket sits down on a grassy hillside near a thicket of trees. a mop of teal green and white hair swaying against the wind as a comforting gust washes over the landscape. the forest of pine and oak rustling in tranquillity as the cloudy blue sky ahead provides shelter from the sweltering sun.

the man in green closes his eyes. taking a deep breath before sighing out all the remaining stresses and anxieties from his system even for just a moment.

behind him, another figure passes by, their brown sweater feeling almost fitting for the surroundings as their white hoodie string flows along with the wind..

the figure sits down beside the man in green and stares out into the nature ahead of them. 

the two sit in contemplative silence for a moment. letting the silence ease their nerves as they simply basked in the comforting presence of polite company.

the man in brown breaks the silence. "do you ever wish to join them?" he asks, words vague like a secret struggling to be kept hidden. 

yet the man in green understands his question. "yeah, sorta." he responds honestly, fiddling with whatever is beside him on the ground.

"i hate feeling like i'm missing out on something," he continues, "maybe its the anxiety speaking? i have no clue."

another contemplative pause.

"a part of me wants to join them, but…" brown trails off, looking off into the forest as if he was looking for something.

"but?"

"... it feels weird, trying to join them. maybe i just enjoy the more private parts of it all." 

green nods understandingly, a small empathetic smile on his face. "felt."

"it feels like everything is going so fast in there." brown continues, " things are always starting, prompts being made, stories being written, art being drawn. its hard to keep up."

"yep, that and it feels like whatever i make isn't good enough compared to the likes of giants and creative geniuses there. i know im a good artist, but compared to everyone there? i feel like an ant." 

the two go silent as the sound of leaves rustling in the wind grows louder, the wind picking up as though it were a scene in a film. both men let the words exchanged settle into their minds comfortingly, understanding the other for a moment or two.

"what do you suppose we do then?" asks brown, looking to green for guidance.

green pauses, looking back at brown through his yellow glasses. 

"as much as i want to continue trying to join that stream of creation and excitement, i think ill keep things slow, personal, calm even. i hate feeling rushed, and when i want to do stuff with you in it, i want it to mean something. and not just because i don't want to be left out."

brown looks at green understandingly. a comforting smile on his face as he nods.

"ill still do things where, if it comes up ill do it. but i think im good being left out of everything for now. i enjoy doing things at my own pace."

he looks into browns eyes, "and what about you? what's your take on it? im not making a decision without your side."

brown's eyes widen, eyebrows raised as he tries to gather his thoughts together before replying.

"well," he starts looking back into the forest like it was his audience, "i agree with what you said honestly. so there's not much i can comment on."

"as much as i enjoy being the centre of attention, i enjoy it when we get to make something together at our own pace. the pressure of trying to do better with every piece as opposed to just creating for the fun of it all feels suffocating most days." 

brown looks at green suddenly, eyes swimming with nostalgia. "truth be told, i miss the early days. where you would draw me on a notebook, and it would be just us together creating. with you at the pencil and me as the muse."

"nothing to fear, nothing to think, just us, enjoying each other's company."  he says, almost grandiose. like it was a long forgotten time before all the mental turmoil and struggle hit them both like a truck.

green says nothing. opting to think back to those days with a smile. the calm and slow origins of what would later accumulate to the two on the hill, looking out into the forest.

"remember character ai? when you were talking to me there?" brown starts again, a playful grin on his face. "those were some good stories. while the bot never truly got my character down, your guidance really pushed our story into something cohesive and enjoyable. it might have been the first time i wrote with anyone else before…"

green grins, "i'm glad to hear it! and i had fun as well. really."

"maybe it was because it felt like you actually were there with me telling a story, even if the bot butchered your character a lot." green shrugged.

"psh," brown started, "a bot could never get my character down! I have too many facets to myself that putting it into a simple chatbot is like an isolation of my features! reduced to nothing but a few key traits that could never begin to even represent me as an individual!" 

"i know i know…" green sighed, "honestly, it's why i haven't gone back to that bot in ages. it's like your character finally solidified in my head, and now i'm the only one who can write you right. or at least you as my narrator anyways."

"your narrator. talk about sap, nerd." 

"oh can it, dork. you know what i mean."

the two quietly chuckle under their breath. sharing a quick friendly smile before they settle back into sitting calmly on the hill.

"so… we continue like this then? just us, the parable, and a few friends here and there with the occasional prompt or two?" brown asks.

"i suppose. maybe one day i'll be strong and determined enough to go back into that stream of creation again. but im content just sitting at the shore banks dipping my toes into the water and letting the breeze cool my face." green answers, the wind picking up like a crescendo of emotion. the two looking out into the forest with a soft smile and an easy heart. ready to take their time and savour all they can in the moment.

"i understand." brown replies. taking green's hand comfortingly and squeezing it, silently comforting and reassuring him.

…

"also, great use of metaphors by the way." he adds slightly jokingly

green rolls his eyes. "jeez thanks. and i assume that my english test on shakespeare is tomorrow too, sir?" he teases, his voice light with genuinity as he scooches closer to his friend and rests his head on brown's shoulder.

brown scoffs, "and to think i enjoyed writing with you." he jokes back, knowing full well that they both carry no real bite at these taunts. resting his head against green's shoulder as the two stare off into the forest peacefully. 

[solardick]

The emperor

CHARLES THE GREAT EMPEROR

The King is victorious in the Lord; and in the mercy of the Most High he will not be moved.

Thais is because the emperor is sided with the pope.

In waite’s version the emperor which was typically drawn in profile suggested a state of indifference. Its back facing the pope and it’s front facing the Empress, was drawn facing the querent. I separated the eye contact. Into its own being and gave the emperor back his profile.

Probably the worst card in the deck.

I wanted to add vision, and dominion, to responsibilities into the deck. The card, odd if it’s profiled. And not direct, and political. As the masculine doesn’t sidetrack. Though these responsibilties of state and structure need attending. This may be replaced by the infinity card. As the emperor here serves to the land. Materially, politically, financially… as long as it sustains and governizes world structure. For the emperor may also serve here in the personal when robes comes off and it’s dragon has say. The dragon here is more likely in power in various forms of warcraft Or dealings with the physical world itself. Involving all the “ally”’s. Easier to corrupt.

At any rate i don’t think its even possible to get a better card image than that. The emperor staring off into the sun. The eagle surveying the land.

And they keep talking about the girl. They want my attention on her…. Ugh. Ok. Ill give you guys something. She has a sweet little virgin mothers body and id tap that. So hard. Apparently they leaving soon or somesuch. But there’s zero dialogue. I learn nothing. And the youngness doesnt bode well for a relationship, Thats what i see in her. A mother to be. Its not everyday i see a girl that i would like to sleep with. The first one in a good long while. Oh well, i just avoid her now. I tried being social, didn’t work. Bye. Too bad we didn’t work the job together. It would have turned out different. And we’d be more open and sociable together. But, to separate it from sex. Because, that isn’t my disposition. From day one. When she first saw me. There was/is something in the way i am that draws her attention to me. Truth? Ruse? At first, i didn’t pay it heed. Cause, it’s my first day and I’m here to get “oriented”. But after awhile, and the way she acted around me. Playing the dumb broad. Puyting her ass in the air. The purposeful avoidance of eye contact. Is where i started to worry. Oh, and the day she flirted with her co-worker while looking back at me and smiling.

Later on, after the avoidance, it was slow. And i liked watching the production line at work. Get a feel for how it work, for something different to see. The people on the lines, movement, all that. One of the days i did this, she was working at the far end. The build up of blocked energy, the constant listening to others talk about her or at the least mention her. Joined in on the guy talk, anyway, a chancr to see how she moves when im not around. I liked ehat i saw, she’s a good competent worker. Then she turns her head, and locked on to me. I don’t pause, and then she turns around faving aeay from her line. I stay gor a second longer, drum a tap on the skid and go do whatever task. At the end of the shoft she then has it arranged to walk around the corner as im leaving and stares me down. Any appraoch of be social was kept to pre-set no’s. And still avoidance of eye contact. (And yet, always looking my way, if i dont at the same time. I see it in my periphery. I tried a bit longer here and there. Social, flicked for a second. But that was all. So now, i don’t know what, involved with fucken with me? Young, dumb and, naive? Working out frustration? Conveniently being in certain places at certain times. Ok, im done bye.

Don’t ruin my Emperor with your bullshit. It’s like the only good masculine card in the deck.

It’s like one guy surrounded by women, and connected to destruction, loss and solitude. If there was ever a more potent feminist elitist tool out there bound on taking out the king. It’s bot very user friendly.

But the cards are still fun to play with. The searching and puzzling. And i yet couldn’t get in to it. Because wtf is this crap? So i started fiddling with it. Connected dots. And then one day i sat down pulled out the cards to the typewritter layout. And placed each one of the added cards into spot. Just like that. And i kept them like that since. Switching the U and I cards a chose. Because it just made more sense that way.

This of course happened each time i unraveled something else. The high priestess card. She’ll pull out all you need from your memory. Being, a feminine “water” card. (At the time) means that the information isn’t logistic. Its more of a feeling based intuition. Which is why i think she should be kept. But my goal here is to make the deck a little more masculine friendly. In a way that doesn’t dramatically alter what’s known to it. For this causes backlash. Take away a Childs pacifier. Candy from a. Baby and all that. And people will start acting even dumber than im capable of.

Here we want you to wear thise light weight comfortable gloves so you dont cut and scratch her hands, which we need from you. And people start bitching and complaining. And im like. F@$&en’ pussies. Everybody wins. You dont het hurt, your taken care of and production isnt halted. This connects back to the wheel card and industrial production. The “hey ho, let’s go” mentality which is a requirement.

Think i got permanent lung damage scaring for a Christmas present this year.

And it doesnt matter. What one does with the cards. When changing images or modifying the deck. It doesnt matter. On the larger scale of things. It will have no impact in the environment. For no one else will have it. It cant travel. Self closed route. Only if it’s distributed. Then whether anyone knows about it it will get into circulation. But at first keep the circle closed. A close net, network. If it’s alive. It can grow. And now the author has it’s own “paradise”. And that influence eventually grows into the populace. Shaping reality.

Oh the grandeur! The judgement is good.

As you can see. I had little choice in the matter the strength card had to go. It works fantastically, on the political constitution. As of a few of major civilization have the national day on one if not both strength and justice cards. I had to go to astrology to find the connection for austrailia.

As in the american fealty of oath thing they do or used to do everyday before class. That’s a strength justice layout. So it really doesn’t matter if it’s classical strength as violence or strength as harmony. Because in this context it’s plainly visible. Conditional programming. Neither of them though say nothing about fortitude. The tower certainly doesn’t. Neither does the emperor. Wearing armour. Fortitude is a defensive name. Violent strength, under the guise of fortitude speaks its own message. Naw, its pressure from the world. One which one may easily shoulder if what it is serves another purpose of raising it higher. To elevate. That. That is golden.

The emperor isn’t as alone anymore.

As it turns out, the new fortitude card, is still connected to the strength card for harmony. For it is connected to the world card and comes back to the fortitude card by letter. So now the fortitude card shows the masculine elevating his woman. Supporting for her as much of the world as he can.

Or it will show oppression, guilt, shame, depression, debt or anything else that weighs on one’s conscience and spirit. It shows the unwielding. The unfolding against pressures of state. And this brings this card to a Saturn.

Vagina.

Looks better card size. The card for infinity. The dragon here serving in the realm of heaven. Is born of the strength card and of the magician card. One two three. The father, the mother, and the holy child. The number eight when not taken as two separate O’s. One way to look at look at it. The magician is a tricky card when considering layering cards and the various depiction of it. None are wrong in the sense that the sum collective answer is always very near the exact question. As above so below

Or as below so above. Which seems just as accurate. Power of manifestation. Which may just as easily be born not knowing what. The A fool, covering its eyes. As is the ace of the minor arcana without form or knowledge. It’s there. It’s started but it’s isn’t there yet. Though the dragon comes before all this. And would actively sort be god. Or the angel on charge of overseeing opérations. And yet also serves as the masculine principle. The instinctual drive. It can serve as any other card. And be found onto every other card as the fool is suggested to be in the tarot. I’m tired so pardon my sloppyness.

[lostacelonnie]

Hey no worries i have to interact with people i dont wanna all the time & have to take a moment & not be like that myself. Oh shit its school time already? Maybe some will know but the beauty is that eventually you reach a point where nobody will who you dont want to so fuck it we ball on that one. Lakeside beaches are also very good i think mt fuji in japan has some like. Lakeside beaches that offer a good view of it & i wanna see that. Im not sure what the definition of fancier english words is here but mostly you dont need them in my experience anyways. Even specific words have workarounds. Ah so making it easier & more generic but not going into the details like they used to. Thats a shame especially with how confusing english can get. I went one town over a week or two ago & it was 108 F, or 42 c i had to convert that, at like 8 at night i was dying. Totally fair sometimes knowing when to hold off is best & its nice to enjoy stuff later for certain things. Turned out i had enough for 2 ten pulls but kafka came home on the first so my luck got burned for a bit i think. Cant wait to use her. The story is interesting but ive been having. So much fun diving in fontaine i ignored the story for a whole day. Good luck on your gear maxing & eventual ender dragon fight! Ah yes a tough choice. That i guess boils down to how much you like your family. So good luck on that decision as well! Oh please do! I found a purple that should work with my hair just need to use it when i have time. I would like to grind more but it kills my phone battery. Oh i got sampo too but i dont think i need to worry about building yet. So no artifact grind for me. The aeons are conceptually really cool & i cant wait for more simulated universe. When i get back to it. So many side quests. My brain is a sponge for fish facts mostly. Its weird. Like antarctic sponges are theorized to live so long because the low temperature & high pressure slow their aging dramatically

thanks ahdfkjg i appreciate it. it is indeed school time already! i start in just under a week but the beginning of the school year is pushed back this year bc september 1st is on a friday so its starting on the 4th instead! yippee! and yeah defo but luckily the people who already know, that being my mother and a couple friends, are very chill about it so even More fuck it we ball. yeah im pretty sure it does but not completely certain. speaking of which maybe ill go see mt fuji if i end up traveling more when older. and well its hard to explain shdfj i mostly mean like, rarer words used, for example, in poetry, or more specific words, lets say the parts of a ship- which, yes, i DO know the basic ones, but theres a couple that i only know the polish equivalent of [for example, a dziób is called a prow! i had to look that up!]. but yeah it doesnt really hinder my day to day understanding of the language, its just occasionally mildly annoying. and yeah it is like that but oh well. GOOD LORD 42C????? id just Perish. the moment it starts getting uncomfortable for me is like 27c [80f]. yeah ill see What Life Brings!! and oh congrats!!! tbh i didnt really have the energy to play star rail recently sjdnflgk but at least i converted that time into actually drawing so id say its for the better. and oh cool!!! im back in warsaw so ill probably check it out any day now sjdkfjm if im not too busy with rain world that is. god i love rain world. and thank you!!!! its extremely funny bc while ive liked minecraft for YEARS now i never actually ended up beating the game cos i have an unfortunate tendency to abandon saves.... but ill try to finally do it. beat the fake gamer allegations. i do actually like my family, or at least my mother since im not really close with my half siblings [all adults, also 2 outta 3 dont moved out of poland] or the rest [live like half the country away] so yeah i still have to think about it. anyway, dye update: i actually managed to do it! finally. thank god. and oh i feel you, my phone was dying bc of memory so i play on pc now. best decision of my life tbh. YEAHHH im so curious about them...... SWARM DISASTER GAME MODE SOON THO....... AND EPIC thats so cool!!! i love hearing fish facts knowing damn well im Not going to remember anything

[aleburton]

fuckzachariah​:

Though his lip curled, a dance picked up in his chest, his stomach, as they began to slot the teeth of their bond back into place through casual humor. “Yeah, and we’ll circle back to these illustrious ‘fun costumes’ later, right after you’re done smuggling me out of here,” he quipped, eyeing her playfully. The nurse went on to politely plead with him, scooting the chair slightly. He looked at it with narrowed eyes, like a sworn enemy, the epitome of everything he detested to be. Before Zach could sneer some new, inventive insult and send the discs up the young girl’s spine awry, Alex interjected with a falsely saccharine intonation that made his own back straighten. He rolled his eyes, relenting. “Oh, yeah, he’d fucking love that. Wouldn’t he?” he prattled on childishly, sending his backpack forcefully into the wheelchair and watching it clatter backward. As Alex and the nurse performed a final sweep of the room, Zach sat on the mattress and disentangled himself from the blood-spattered hospital gown, pulling a large hoodie of his own over his head and proceeded to wait in begrudging silence.

Even as they meandered through barren corridors, Zach kept his head stooped beneath hunched shoulders and buried safely in his steepled hands, elbows resting on the chair arms. As they neared the door marked ‘EXIT’, his heart rate steadily picked up. Freedom grazed the tip of his tongue, crisp and shocking like a cold breeze. The door swung open and Zach squirmed in his seat, Buddy rounding the car, its engine still running and all the doors ajar. With an unseemly burst of strength, Zach hauled himself out of the chair, only to be almost knocked awry by Buddy’s hulking form crashing into him. “Hey, man,” Zach wheezed happily, his ribs crushed. He patted Buddy’s large back as best he could, one-armed, stumbling slightly. Buddy kept him upright without trying, or even really noticing, just with the strength of his embrace. Zach was tall, but Buddy shadowed him easily. Once they separated he beat Zach out by at least three inches. “Yeah?” Zach offered a paltry smile. He’d be glad when enough time had elapsed that nobody ever felt the need to reference this instance again. “Couldn’t imagine carting someone marginally more pleasant around? Ah,” he sounded dismissively. 

A heavy hand lands solid upon Zach’s shoulder, and Buddy’s near-black eyes find Zach’s sternly. “Sure I could. But, I considered it, and I decided I’d rather keep putting up with your bullshit for a while longer. Alright? So get your stupid ass in the damn car.” Zach laughed appreciatively, moving from one aid to the other as casually as he could, his arm loping out for Alex’s shoulder. “Right. Then, I’d like to get in the fucking car before another living soul sees me like this, please.” He smiled sardonically. Buddy swatted Zach away as though he were no more than an annoying fly as he tried to get in the backseat himself, instead almost carrying him inside to loud protests, but eventually they were peeling away from the hospital parking lot and towards a place Zach was open to calling home again. His head lolled to Alex, her perfectly carved profile steadfast before the whizzing backdrop, and in that moment he knew that he had a good chance at succeeding in finding a home again so long as she was inside those walls, too. His heart began to slow. It was a little difficult to allow love to wash over him, but it kept coming, thick and fast. A tsunami of it. He had to duck his head and hold his breath. If he kept trying to fight it, it’d take him out with the rest of the detritus. And it felt kind of good to let it happen.

Without offering her face, or even her wide, headlamp gaze, Alex began speaking to him. Her heart was in her throat, though she fought for it not to be. Zach could always tell when it’d gotten tangled up in something. She attempted to coax him from his locked box once again, though this time, she wasn’t going easy. Her words were like calloused hands catching over silk. He winced in the darkness at her recital of events, turning his head toward the window, the streaking lights staining it. He remained jailed within his own silence for a while. Long enough that, had they not been sat right beside one another, one might doubt he’d even heard anything at all. He wasn’t sure exactly what she wanted, or needed, from him right now, and so he couldn’t determine whether he was prepared to give it. It was clear the situation was dire, that there were several more urgent issues cropping up around him outside of his alarmingly recent overdose, that they were all left untended to and spreading. There was nothing else to say about it - not now, anyway. Now, all he wanted to do was to go home with his best friend and his… Alex, and pretend none of it was happening until at least the morning.

But Alex was Alex. And if it’s one thing the mangled pair had in common, it’s their bullheadedness. Eventually, he took a breath, though his face was still turned away. “I don’t feel like death. I feel like I was dead and now life is desperately trying to punish me for it. My head hurts. My eyes hurt. I feel like I could vomit. I feel like there’s no blood in my body. Every bone and muscle aches, and more than that, they actually just don’t fucking work right now. I’m weak. It’s bullshit, and I hate it, and the rest of my life is shit, and I hate it. But you’re not. I have you again. And I get to go home. And Ryan’s there. And, fuck, Buddy’s here.” His hand flapped in the direction of the driver’s seat before flopping back into his lap. “And those are all good things that aren’t absolute dogshit, so I just want to do those right now.” And maybe forever. His face turned, his eyes on his knees. “Can that just… be enough? For now?”

She narrowed her eyes, attempting to interpret the expression upon his face. He turned toward the window; the occasional auric streetlight cascading across his nose, his lips. Without a single word, she sensed his rather touchy temperament. In fact, she predicted it, right down to the weighty breath that floated between them. Perhaps it was ill-timed. He’d only regained his consciousness hours before, but she hadn’t planned on him leaving the hospital so soon. He was safe there, sheltered from the reality that awaited him outside of those concrete walls. Whether he intended it or not, the responsibility of his well-being had been transferred to her now. Wasn’t it only fair that she understood what she was undertaking? And the whole truth – not the fragments he’d hand selected to make it seem less gruesome. Alexandra listened, glancing down at her fingers as they laid across her lap. His response was honest. At least he acknowledged he was unwell.   

She took pause, drawing in her lower lip as she considered her words. “All I’m saying is, we started this relationship being completely honest with one another. I think that matters now more than ever and I’m just trying to understand how you got here.” Alex lifted her head to glance out of the window, noticing a trickle of rain coursing sideways across the glass. It was fitting for what felt like a somber moment, or maybe it was a symbol for the rebirth of their – whatever they were. She continued, “You asked me back into your life, but I really don’t know it looks like anymore. Not since I last saw you.” It was undeniable that things had changed radically in the time they’d been apart. She didn’t know who he spent his time with, what he’d been using to quell his pain, where he’d been, what he’d experienced. Then again, she supposed he could say the same for her though her account was nowhere near as eventful as his.

She sighed softly, staring past the droplets of rain and to familiar landmarks. They were almost home. “I guess we have a lot to catch up on.” Alex outstretched her hand, placing it gently upon his thigh and squeezing, “But, with no manager and a temporarily cancelled schedule, we have some time.” At some point, they’d have to find a replacement for Peter. Naturally, she wasn’t saddened by his departure. She viewed it more as a blessing, providing Zach an opportunity to move from beneath his poisoned thumb. Peter was never the man Zach perceived him to be, wanted so desperately for him to be. Despite her feelings toward his wicked handler, her heart broke for him. He’d been abandoned yet again. “We’ll figure it out.”  She offered him a smile and meant it. The black Range Rover began to slow in speed, approaching the gate outside of Zach’s luxury community.

It was then she remembered she was supposed to text Ryan. “Shit,” she mumbled, taking her hand back to sift through her bag through her phone. Its light illuminated the backseat as her fingers skimmed across the screen – At the gate. Be there in 5.

[andreafmn]

Collision - Chapter 10

Word Count: 4.1K

Story Description: (Y/N) Uley is back home after being away for four years. Her life is at its first standstill and she is taking this time to find out who she is without school. But she never thought that coming back to the reservation would turn her whole life around. In the midst of secrets and mystery, a man crashes into (Y/N)’s and her life will never be the same.

Chapter: 10/?

A/N: so, I've been quite sick and had some flare-ups but I was able to squeeze this out and I'm working on some chapters for my other stories. This is just pure domestic fluff, where Carlisle takes care of a sick reader. It's just completely heartwarming. And some interactions with lovely Esme.

If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories. You can request at any time any story or one-shot you desire. Hope you enjoy, and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Chapter 10

The time spent apart had soon been forgotten by Carlisle and (Y/N). They resumed their relationship as if those two weeks had never occurred – the only reminder were the slowly healing scars forming on her forearm. The greatest difference was that (Y/N)’s curiosity for the supernatural had been pricked. She had become overly interested in the world her boyfriend and her brother were a part of.

In reality, she felt she needed all intel available to her regarding the life she could partake in on a future date. Rosalie’s words marinated in her head constantly. As much as she loved Carlisle, she was young, and – although she hadn’t given it much thought in the past – (Y/N) wasn’t sure she could grieve a future she could still have. The question that seemed to trample over all others: was her love for Carlisle stronger than her desire for an unknown future? 

Most days she pushed her questions down, choosing to spend her time with Carlisle enjoying the present moment.

The pair were laying on the bed Carlisle had bought recently. The pitter-patter of the rain against the window was working to work the human girl to sleep, the circles he was drawing on her back only adding to the feeling.

“It’s weird that you don’t sleep,” she mumbled. (Y/N)’s eyes were growing heavier as she talked, her blinking getting slower by the second. “What do you do at night?”

“Well, normally I would read or catch up on cases from the hospital,” he started. “Now I, I still read, but I also enjoy listening to your heartbeat as I do.”

“You watch me sleep?”

“Sometimes,” Carlisle confessed with a smile. “Mostly I just like to listen to your heartbeat, your steady breathing, and the sporadic nonsense you mutter at times. It’s… calming.”

“I talk in my sleep?” I giggled. “It’s the first time anyone has said anything. What do I say?”

“Not much, darling. It truly is just nonsensical mutterings.”

“Mmm,” she muttered. Her eyes had fluttered close, her breathing slowing and evening out.

It had been a tiring day for the both of them, more (Y/N) than Carlisle. The emergency room had run rampant with flu and cold cases, allergy season running its hand through the town. As back-to-school slowly commenced, contagious illnesses were being passed around like a one-dollar bill. Case after case had trickled into the white walls of the hospital, filling the air with coughs and sniffles. The only time (Y/N) had gotten a break was for a twenty-minute lunch Carlisle had joined her on.

(Y/N)’s feet were tired, her back was sore, and, if she was honest, her throat was feeling a bit scratchy. The last thing she wanted was to be sick but working at a hospital there was always going to be a high probability of contracting any illness. Even if she took all precautions, the stats just weren’t on her side.

“Good night, (Y/N),” Carlisle whispered to (Y/N)’s sleeping body. He slipped out of the bed, pulling the white sheets to keep her body covered. “I love you.”

At nights, Carlisle would often sneak out of bed. Since he did not need sleep, staying in the room was useless. He preferred utilizing the hours of the night to catch up on the never-ending files from the hospital or going down his endless list of books to read. Passing the time with mindless activities was something he was masterly adept at.

Sometimes he’d sit in front of the fireplace in his office and imagine a life he could’ve had. He would let his gaze blur on the flames as his brain concocted images of an alternate universe in which he was still human; where he could be the age he actually was and age as time went on; where he met (Y/N) as a just-out-of-school doctor, maybe they’d even meet in med school; where (Y/N) and he would have a long and beautiful relationship together; where they got married; where they had a couple of kids; where they grew old together, happily.

Carlisle had long ago desisted of his mortal life. He’d grown comfortable in the life he had built for himself. He had convinced himself that the little family he had was enough, that they would always be enough. Taking care of the kids alongside Esme as his platonic partner was enough. But meeting (Y/N) had him reminiscing on the times when he was sure his life was temporary.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Esme peaked her head through the big doors of Carlisle’s office, breaking the man out of his daze. “Everything okay, Carlisle?”

“Oh, Esme,” Carlisle spoke, surprisingly startled. “I was just thinking.”

“I could tell,” she chuckled. Rounding his desk, she took a seat on the armchair next to Carlisle’s. “Tell me what’s on your mind, Carlisle.”

“What am I doing, Esme?”

“In what context?”

“With (Y/N). What am I doing with (Y/N)?” He sighed, running his hands across his face to wipe away any sign of frustration. “I don’t know how Edward can do this.”

“Carlisle…”

“I’m giving her a life sentence, robbing her of her time as we meander in this relationship, no certainty in sight. She deserves better than that… better than me.” Carlisle paused for a second, taking a breath he didn’t need. His mind was working a million miles a second, reeling any and all possible scenarios. “I’ve been thinking about what life could have been had I never been bitten, had life continued on its designated path.”

“You would be long gone by now.”

“I would have married, probably would’ve had a bunch of kids, grown old.”

“But you would have never met (Y/N). Or any of us for that matter,” Esme smiled. “It has never done us any good to dwell on unreachable futures. Our lives may not look like what we imagined, but they became what they should have. We created our own family. You gave us another shot at life. Albeit a different kind of life, but a good one nonetheless.”

Esme reached across the space between them and laid a comforting hand on his forearm. She understood what he was feeling, the guilt he still carried for turning the family into immortal creatures that fed on blood. But – even if some would not have chosen it – he had given them the chance at a new life, away from the hardships and turmoil of their past one.

“Look, Carlisle, unlike any of us, whatever happens afterward will be (Y/N)’s decision. Ultimately, she will be the one that chooses this life or her humanity. Burdening yourself with something in which you won’t have a choice in the matter is not healthy.” She spoke in that motherly tone that was peculiar to her. Honey-laced words could calm the strongest storm. “Enjoy whatever time you have together. She knows already what you are, what she can become, but she’s chosen to continue alongside you. If there’s anything you have enough of, that is time. Enjoy yourself with what you have now and unburden yourself from the weight of the future.”

“I wish it were that easy, Esme.” He slumped back onto the chair, letting his head hit the back. Carlisle stared at the ceiling in his office, looking for something – an answer, maybe. “I will try.”

“Just promise you won’t lose sight of what’s right in front of you because you’re too busy dwelling on things unknown.” After a few moments of silence, Esme spoke once more. “On a lighter note, Edward wants to throw Bella a birthday party. It’s in three weeks.”  

As the conversation shifted, words spilled out of their mouths without much thought. They rambled on talking about nothing, filling the time with sounds. There was always something new to talk about, even after so much time. The nonsensical ramblings were able to fill enough time to see the sun start peeking through the trees, announcing the coming of morning.

Carlisle excused himself, wanting to be there when (Y/N) woke up. He sauntered up the sleek stairs, his heels clicking against the smooth floor. He made his way to his room, knocking on the kids’ doors to make sure they were ready for school. The doctor smiled at the human feeling of “waking up” the teenagers he cared for to make sure they fit into their student façade perfectly. Even if they didn’t need the reminder, he liked doing it.

When he entered his room, he was surprised to find the bed empty. The sheets were mangled on the floor and the dent in the mattress from her body was still there. He opened his ears in search of her heartbeat, following the frenzied sound to the connected bathroom.

Inside, (Y/N) was hunched over the toilet, clutching at the base for support. Her forehead glistened with droplets of sweat, the sound of her breathing staggered and sharp. Carlisle could smell the bile from the basin and the perspiration from her skin. She looked pale, a red tint on her face that had spread to her neck. She looked fragile, almost like she would break at any moment.

He ran toward her, kneeling in front of her body, checking for any visible injuries. Carlisle used a hand to pull her hair back, he used the other to caress her cheek. She leaned into the cold touch, needing the juxtaposition to the burning she felt from within. She hadn’t noticed tears falling from her eyes until Carlisle wiped them away, every touch a painful yet welcoming sensation.

“I think I may have contracted the flu,” she choked out with a small chuckle. Even talking was unbearable. “I don’t feel too good.”

“Oh, darling,” he cooed. He rubbed circles on her back as she emptied whatever contents were left in her stomach.

“Please stay,” she whimpered. (Y/N) knew he had an early shift today, they both did. But she knew she couldn’t go into work with her severe symptoms, and she didn’t want to be by herself. “I-I don’t want to be alone.’ 

“Of course, my love. I could never dream of leaving with you like this,”  he smiled. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. I am going to run you a bath, to hopefully get this fever down. Then, we’re going to get some food into you to start you on some oseltamivir every four hours. And we’re gonna stay in bed all day. How does that sound?”

“Sounds perfect. I should call my mom though, let her know I won’t be home in a few days,” she groaned. “I don’t want her or anyone getting sick.”

“I could call her,” Carlisle offered. (Y/N) simply nodded, too weak to speak. “Okay, honey, come on.” 

He started filling the tub with lukewarm water for (Y/N) to sink into. He sprinkled some Epsom salt onto the water, running his hand to dissolve the soaks. Once the tub was filled, Carlisle helped (Y/N) to her feet. Her legs trembled under her, too weak to hold her body. He helped unclothe her, softly reaching for the hem of the massive t-shirt she was wearing.

That was the first time he’d seen her bare body. It hadn’t been the either of them had imagined they would, but no arousal clouded their minds. It was a moment of vulnerability and care. Carlisle’s main priority was (Y/N)’s health. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t committed to his brain the image of her body – her soft skin, the curvature of her waist, the mounds of her breasts.

“Come on, darling. One leg at a time,” he instructed. He held onto her waist as her legs raised, one after the other. Her overheated arms held onto Carlisle’s as she slid her body down into the water. “Alright, my love. Call me once the water turns cold to get you out, okay?”

“Wait, Carlisle.”

“Yes?”

“Would you, um, get in with me?” (Y/N) could feel the heat rush to her face. She wasn’t sure why she had asked him to stay but knew she didn’t want to be by herself. “Please.”

Carlisle smiled as he turned back into the bathroom. He bared himself for the first time in front of her and quickly stepped into the water behind her. The tub was enormous, perfectly fitting both their bodies with room to spare. (Y/N) gravitated toward him, pressing her back to his frozen chest. She let out a sigh of relief after feeling his temperature, easing the ache her body was experiencing. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her softly to his body. That was a new level of intimacy they’d yet to experience, but it was comfortable – just felt right.

A strong ray of sunshine had seeped into the room, beaming strongly through the big windows of the bathroom. (Y/N) followed the gleam as it landed on one of Carlisle’s arms, making the skin sparkle in the light. She hadn’t seen his skin in the sun yet, not sure what to expect when she did. She’d wanted to laugh when he first confessed why he and his family avoided the sun, the image of a sparkly Carlisle filling her brain.

But this was different. He wasn’t covered in chunky body glitter as she had imagined, he looked beautiful. The view almost felt ethereal. She ran her finger over the porcelain smooth skin, watching as the sparkling ceases when her finger covered it but would shine out as soon as it was uncovered.

“Having fun there, darling?” He chuckled.

“It’s beautiful – you’re beautiful,” she smiled. “I could have never imagined what it would truly look like. This is nowhere near what I had thought of.”

“You believe so?”

“It’s mesmerizing, really.” Carlisle shifted slightly, his torso and face now in contact with the sun, and (Y/N) stared at how the sparkles spread farther onto his skin. Her hand trailed up his arm and landed on his face. Her fingers traced his facial features, admiring the glimmer of his dermis. She ghosted over his jaw, his cheekbones, his temple, his eyelashes, his nose, his lips. (Y/N) was completely enthralled by the vision the man in front of her was. “I love you; you know? And I’m so glad you’re in my life, Carlisle. Regardless of everything that happened before. I am irrevocably in love with you.”

The Cullen man smiled at his partner, gingerly placing a finger on her chin, pulling her lips to his. The kiss was soft, tender, and passionate. “I love you too, (Y/N) Uley,” he said. “More than I ever thought I could love anyone.”

They stayed wrapped in each other’s arms until the water started turning cold. Carlisle exited the tub first, wrapping a robe around himself before scooping (Y/N) out and wrapping her in a towel. He sat her on the vanity whilst he searched his drawers for a light sweater to accompany some sweatpants and the underwear he pulled from her overnight bag. He then dried her body before helping her get dressed in the clothing he’d picked out.

He'd called out to Esme in the brief seconds he was looking for the clothes, asking her to prepare some food for (Y/N). To which she delightfully agreed. The smell of food quickly thereafter inundated his nostrils, beaconing the pair to the kitchen.

Esme had indeed started crafting up a big pot of the classic chicken noodle soup, gifting the couple with a warm smile when they walked into the massive room. Carlisle helped (Y/N) onto the island before excusing himself to call his girlfriend's mom.

He wasn’t sure about the formalities of speaking to your partner’s parent when they have no idea that they are in a relationship. But he was an expert at fashioning believable fallacies. He’d gone centuries doing so.

“(Y/N), honey. Are you okay?” Allison Uley’s voice rang through the phone with a worried tone. “I thought you were coming home today.”

“Actually, Mrs. Uley, this is Carlisle Cullen.”

“Oh,” she exclaimed, surprised. “Dr. Cullen, is everything okay with (Y/N)?”

“Well, unfortunately, (Y/N) did contract the flu from her shift yesterday at the hospital. Though she took the necessary precautions, it seems she still caught it,” he explained. He’d easily shifted to his doctor persona, conversing as if with a patient’s family member. “She’s decided to stay in isolation until everything is out of her system to avoid spreading the virus any further. It should take no more than a week for her to be back to 100%.”

“Well, can’t she come home? I can take care of her here. I wouldn’t want her to be alone through this.”

“No need to worry, Mrs. Uley. I have an empty home this week – the kids have gone away to visit some family members – and I’ve arranged a room for her. I’ve already been in contact with flu patients and have been taking extra precautions to combat the sickness.”

“Oh, Dr. Cullen, that’s not necessary. I wouldn’t want to put you out like that.”

“It really is no trouble. It will also be easier to monitor her symptoms just in case they worsen, though I’m sure they won’t,” he persisted. “I promise she will be well taken care of. No need to worry, Mrs. Uley. (Y/N) will be back home in no time.”

“I don’t know how I can thank you, doctor. You have been so attentive toward my daughter, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you,” Allison exclaimed. She suspected that the doctor had been the person to sneak their way into her daughter’s heart. (Y/N) would divide the majority of her time between home and the hospital, and whatever free time she invested it in Forks. Allison hadn’t built the courage to ask her daughter what person had her acting giddy around the house, but that did not halt the theories to flood her mind. “Truly, Dr. Cullen. You have no idea how thankful I am that you are in my daughter’s life.”

“I could say the same,” he chuckled. “And thank you for trusting me with her health. I promise she’ll come back home better than ever.”

“I have no doubt about that,” she beamed. “Please keep me posted on her condition. I know I’ll be worried nonstop about her.”

“Rest assured you will receive constant updates about (Y/N),” Carlisle smiled. “Take care, Mrs. Uley. Have a good day.”

“Thank you, Dr. Cullen. Goodbye.”

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Esme and (Y/N) engaged in chit-chat. There wasn’t much to say, but they were still able to maintain a fluid conversation.

“You make him really happy,” Esme commented. “I’ve spent so many years by his side, and I’ve never seen happiness like this on him.”

“Well, he makes me happy too,” (Y/N) smiled, tiredly. “He’s just such a peculiar being. I never thought I’d cross paths with someone like him.” 

“You really love him, huh?” Esme looked up through her eyelashes, giving (Y/N) a warm smile.

“Under my understanding of what love is, I can confidently say yes.” 

“You’re both the same type of perplexing; practically cut from the same cloth,” she chuckled. “I’m so glad you guys found each other when you did. It was about time he found someone.”

“Did you ever, um,” (Y/N) stuttered. She scratched the back of her neck, avoiding Esme’s gaze. “Did you ever, you know…”

“Love him?” (Y/N) nodded. “Never in a romantic way. I love him because he is my family and took me in when I had no one. But he’s not really my type, if you get what I’m saying.”

“Oh,” she exclaimed. It took her a moment to understand what Esme spoke. But looking at the woman once more, realization dawned on her. “Oh!”

“Yeah,” Esme laughed. “I know people in town talk. They assume we’re together because we’re caring for all these kids. And as much as it bothers me, I much prefer they gossip about our love lives than have them find out what we really are.”

“I get that,” the Uley girl chuckled.

(Y/N) chewed on the insides of her mouth, a question threatening to spill from her tongue. She took a sip from her water, drowning her thoughts in the glass. Getting up close and personal with people was still such a foreign concept to the girl.

“You look like you want to ask something,” the brunette interjected before (Y/N) affirmed with a nod. “Go ahead.”

“Do you ever regret being turned into a vampire?” (Y/N) asked sheepishly. “Like, do you ever miss the things that made you a human?”

“It’s not that I don’t miss it. I do,” Esme started. “But I’ve stopped wishing for it. I have always been grateful to Carlisle for saving my life and I could never take for granted this second chance. Though I sometimes miss feeling tears running down my face, feeling my body heat up, stretching my lungs out as I take in a deep breath, I prefer being alive to whatever extent I can be.”

“But what about children?” 

“Well,” Esme breathed deeply unnecessarily. “I actually lost a baby. It sort of became the reason Carlisle turned me.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Esme. I didn’t mean…”

“It’s alright, (Y/N),” she smiled. The poor girl’s face had flushed even stronger, and the vampire couldn’t help but chuckle softly. “I quickly realized that I wasn’t meant to be a mother the natural way, but I was blessed enough to still be a maternal figure to these kids. If it is meant to be, (Y/N), the universe finds a way.”

“But how will I know if I’m making the right decision?”

“(Y/N), darling, when the time comes, you’ll know. But you can’t trouble yourself right now with that.”

“It’s hard when it’s the only thing rolling around in my mind,” the girl sighed. “It’s like a dark cloud just following me everywhere I go, no matter how hard I try to drown those thoughts out.”

“I understand completely,” Esme smiled and extended a hand to drape over one of (Y/N)’s. “But, darling, if you focus too much on the future, you’ll miss everything that’s happening right in front of you. It’s the only thing you can do.”

“I’m a mess,” (Y/N) chuckled dryly.

“I’m completely confident that once you need to decide, you’ll choose the right thing for yourself, (Y/N),” she complimented. “For now, just revel in the fact that you’re together and you’re happy.”

“I’ll try,” the Uley girl smiled. “Thank you, Esme.”

“Any time, darling.” Esme was beaming. When they had first met, she could tell there was an air of jealousy surrounding the girl, not that she could blame (Y/N). She was just glad that (Y/N) was warming up to her and trusted her enough to ask for her opinion on such an important matter. “Now, let’s get this soup into you so you can take your medicine. Then, up to bed.”

Carlisle couldn’t help but smile at the scene he walked into. His best friend and the love of his life were idly chatting at the dining table, smiles sprawled on both their faces. (Y/N) sipped happily on a steaming bowl of soup and Esme watched as someone that was able to enjoy her cooking was doing so. (Y/N) fit into the puzzle the family was so perfectly that he could not see a future where she was not in it.  

“Have I missed anything?” Carlisle sat at the table.

“Not much,” Esme laughed. “We’re just talking.”

“Anything I can know about?”

“Just girl stuff,” (Y/N) answered through giggles. “This soup hit the right spot, Esme. It was so good.”

“I’m glad I finally have someone I can cook for.”

Esme cleared away the empty bowl, sliding over a glass full of water for (Y/N) to down the medication Carlisle placed in her hand. In a couple of minutes, drowsiness started taking over the girl. (Y/N) fought strongly as her eyelids felt heavier than ever. But even the words she spoke fell on deaf ears.

“Why don’t we get you to bed, huh?” Carlisle prompted.

(Y/N) could only nod in answer. And with a laugh, Carlisle snaked his arms under her and carried her to the bed. She felt herself sink into the soft mattress, the blanket draping over her gingerly.

Through heavy eyelids and fluttering lashes, (Y/N) watched as Carlisle was leaving the room.

“Where are you going?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“I want to leave you to rest, my love.”

“Stay,” she muttered. “Please.”

Carlisle turned swiftly on his feet and went back into the room. (Y/N) felt the bed sink and scooted toward the cold figure that had entered the bed. She rested her head against his chest and snuggled into him as his arms circled her body.

“Thank you, Carlisle,” she whispered out, her energy reaching empty rapidly.

“For what, my love?” he chuckled softly, placing a kiss on her head.

“For taking care of me,” she smiled. “For being here.” 

“Nothing and no one could ever keep me from your side.”

Tag List: @agent-anna @banterbanner @alitav99 @daniallh @catchmeupimgettingoutofhere @imaginetwilight2704 @mauvette268 @beefwhobarksandisalilmadalot @abelbai000 @ridiculous-creature​ @mikariell95 @gryffi-ndor @jules-bea2308 @comic-book-overload @winter-soldier-101 @jessicasunderground @mxyee @hey-you-therexo @witchy-obeyme-freak @xcastawayherosx @kortniec696 @slutforsainz @Blackbluerose666 @DyslexicCatterpillar @sunflowerleii @gypsymusiclover @byelannie @a-sifu-hotman @zheezs14 @minhaimaginação @bluebirbnamedJay @sirenheadenby @sunshine2894 @jelly-fishy-babie @thatgirljayy

[mostlymaudlin]

fanfic writer challenge!

instructions:

list & explain the three lines/moments from canon that are most fundamental to how you write your fave character

challenge 3 more fic writers to do the same!

ok i did this for carry on but im doing a separate one for aftg <3 because its fun

it is surprising to no one, but my fave character to write is andrew :) and i gotta put this puppy under a read more because i wrote way too much. i have [clenches fist] SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT ANDREW MINYARD !!!

but first, ill tag: @sillyunicorn @starwarned @takitalks @rainbow-0bsidian @pipedream-darling @otherworldsivelivedin @mrskrementz @fortheloveofexy @seasy33 @jostenminyard

(doing more than three to get the ball rolling lol)

Andrew's smile vanished when the elevator started its slow crawl down. Neil returned his stare, every muscle tensed for a fight. At the fifth floor, Andrew pushed away from the back railing and started for Neil. He reached for Neil's keys, but Neil moved the ring out of reach. Andrew tried again, and Neil had to step back to dodge his grab. He backed right into the metal doors and realized a moment too late Andrew didn't care about his keys at all. He buried the ring in his pocket, feeling pinned in. How stupid, that someone so short could have such a presence. -- (The Foxhole Court, Chapter 2)

ok, a long one to start, but important ! one of the reasons i love writing andrew is because of the way hes fucking nuts. and as someone who is also nuts, this is pleasing to me. and let me make this point without using silly euphemisms: mania is a state in which a person is heightened, but they are still fundamentally themselves. their thoughts are not limited by silly things like filters or predicting consequences. it is impulse and pleasure-chasing. so! when i look at andrew, who is supposedly on some whacked out fake drug that induces mania, i think about how his actions that could be brushed off as "he's just high" actually reflect an andrew without inhibitions. this is especially helpful when looking at andrew in TKM, when he becomes incredibly difficult to read.

this scene is the reverse, though, and that's why it's important to me. andrew is not on his medicine here, but he's not Mr. Repressed either. this is an in-between, where he's choosing to let some of himself shine through (mostly with the intention of freaking out neil, lol). and it's great, because andrew shows us a few big things:

he reads & understands people SO well, even if he rarely caters to their needs. the fact that he goes for neil's keys on day 1 to draw a reaction is like... yep. you got him lol.

he is willing to take drastic measures in the name of.... well, at this point in the story we're not sure, but soon we'll see that its to protect his people

he's crazy???? lol. i just think andrew's dialogue in tfc/trk in his brief unmedicated moments (and even his manic ones!) are so indicative of how andrew thinks. he's so fucking weird. in this scene, he follows his cornering act with "How nice to meet you, Neil," Andrew drawled. that's so weird!! he's weird. his brain is silly and clever and quick. This bit and others like it are the foundation on which ive built my version of his POV.

now, speaking of andrew's brain --

Andrew stared stone-faced back at him. Neil would have assumed it a silent rejection of Neil's veiled accusations if Andrew's hand hadn't frozen midair between them. -- (The King's Men, Chapter 11)

let's set the scene. immediately before this, neil has suggested they go on spring break, implied that there was a this, then hit andrew with his "And I am nothing" / "And as you've always said, you want nothing."

so like. andrew just got punched in the gut approximately six times in under a minute. poor guy. when neil prompts him back into action, he first threatens to kill neil, and then kisses the shit out of him. squeeee, ROMANCE!!!

when i look at this scene, i think of that first quote i pulled. i think of andrews silly and clever and quick brain, and about how much work he does to keep his mask on. there are plenty of times his mask cracks, but this one is the most fun because he is so clearly being overwhelmed by FEELINGS. he is confused by neil, irritated with him for bringing up all these things that andrew long ago decided didn't matter, and furious with himself for wanting it all too. he has to freeze so that none of that slips out of his mouth or onto his face. when he recovers, he deflects thru being mean (which is useless against neil, but still a satisfying way to blow off some steam) and then kissing him :) because really, that's what it all boils down to: andrew wants neil so bad it makes him want to murder him.

and look at this, a nice transition to the final scene!

"Rumor has it I'm pretty interesting."

"Don't believe everything you hear."

Neil ignored that dismissal because Andrew was already pulling him down again. They kissed until Neil felt dizzy, until he wasn't sure he could hold himself up anymore, and then Andrew pulled Neil's hand off the beanbag chair. He held it up and away from them for an eternity, then slowly pressed it flat against his chest and let go. Andrew tensed up under Neil's hand but relaxed before Neil could pull away. --(The Kings Men, Chapter 15) (The second Chapter 15) (Because thats something we have to clarify in these dumbass books)

oh my GOD. has a scene ever scened like this scene scened. has a touch ever meant so much. has a character ever tried this hard. ok, once we've all finished banging our heads against the wall and screaming, let's review:

andrew wants neil so bad it makes him want to murder him. but andrew also wants neil so bad that it makes him want to TRY. im actually going to take this apart bit by bit because if for some reason you're still reading this madness, i think you'll appreciate the detail LOL.

ok, first: before this paragraph, neil confronts andrew again with the gravity of their relationship, and andrew plays his usual game of deflecting and bullying. that doesnt work (andrew, has that EVER worked???***) so of course the next action is kissing.

and kissing and kissing and kissing.

and somewhere in all this kissing that is so good that neil is dizzy, something in andrew says: i want more. he takes neil's hand, maybe on impulse, and has to stop to think about what he's going to do. and then he tries to give: he places neil's hand on his chest, LETS GO, and then relaxes under his touch.

its hard to tell how much of this was impulse and how much was thought through. im willing to bet it was mostly impulse, especially because andrew doesnt hit neil with a "i never do anything i dont want to do" when neil acknowledges that this is probably something theyre not ready for. (instead, andrew reacts by deflecting/bullying -- "One hundred and one" -- and then more kissing. so predictable!).

but still! it says so much. it says that he wants and wants and wants, he dreams about things he thinks he'll never have. and neil keeps trying to prove him wrong, and andrew wants to believe him so badly, wants to SHOW neil that he's starting to believe him. scream!!! andrew invented romance. he put neils hand on his chest and LET GO. he said: "look. im trying. i want this too, even if i cant even think the words." he said: "i want to figure out how to trust you."

because underneath it all, i believe andrew is a deeply hopeful creature, and that is the thing he hates most about himself. he wants a home, he wants a family, he wants to belong -- and it makes him feel so fucking foolish. its easier to wrap these wants up in duties and protections, concrete and emotionless things. but neil never actually wanted andrew's protection, yet he still wants andrew more than anyone ever has before. thats fuckin earth-shattering. theres only so much deflecting and bullying and kissing you can do before some of that deeply buried hope claws its way out.

SO YEAH i really didnt need to do all that but i did. if youre still reading then like LOL youre a trooper hope u enjoyed the 2AM Nerd Rory show. but i think about andrew a lot (obviously) and hes such a difficult character to write, so returning to scenes like these three really help ground me in the version of him that lives in my head. so that i can put him in situations :)

***actually wait i just remembered one time where the bullying/deflecting worked, so here's a bonus. in ch 10, the make it to finals and have a party at abbys. andrew and neil are outside, and neil is frustrated with andrews apathy -- "Would it kill you to let something in?" / "It almost did last time." -- and then also starts talking oh so earnestly about how andrew could be court if he'd just TRY. andrew, obviously, gets mad and asks Neil if hes capable of talking about anything other than Exy. which actually hurts neil's feelings, because neil just really likes talking to andrew about exy (the thing hes most passionate about) & deeply values his opinions, and hes upset by the implication that they dont actually have this in common.

and like, you could read this as andrew just being sick of talking about exy lol. but i see it as part of the pattern. andrew is triggered, first of all. and then neil is being a little too earnest about the future and andrew, talk to me. and andrew's fucking overwhelmed !!! he does not know what to do with this! so: lash out. hit neil where it hurts. deflect and bully.

[spicy-tomato]

techno sword pt 2 you whores

come get yall juice, techno sword pt 2

pt 1

“Princess, please tell me whats wrong.” he looked concerned and you sit up. Nows as good a time as ever….guess you might as well tell him. 

Being behind a door should make it easier, right? Not really when you know that just behind it is a man that could kick it down with only a fraction of his power. It wasnt. 

“w-well…..for a while i’ve been having these…thoughts….” you trail off, not knowing how to phrase what you’ve been thinking. “about you and….and your sword” even if he can’t see you, you still cover your face out of embarrassment. you hear a soft chuckle from outside and the doorknob jiggle. 

“princess, let me in or speak up” he almost growls through the door. that tone manages to do something to you, making you think about him on top— stop, you can’t do this right now. you need to stay composed for this. 

“o-okay so i’ve been having thoughts about you recently...ive been watching you train and seeing how you come back with your sword coated in blood and it just...i dont know it does something to me i guess…you just look so….i dont know its stupid…” you trail off, figuring you werent making sense. More faint growling can be heard before a loud slam on the door.

“You have three seconds to unlock this door before i break it down, princess’ you stay still on the bed, paralized by what could happen when he gets inside. Is he upset? Is he gonna kick you out? Break up with you? Before you get the chance to register all your thoughts the door is torn from its hinges, the looming figure of your boyfriend striding along your room, dragging his sword behind him. “Ready to speak up now, or do i have to force it out of you.” he pins you below him on the bed, sword discarded next to you, showing just how large it is. You try to stutter out an answer but before you get the chance, he picks the sword back up, using it to cut your clothes cleanly off your body. “Aww are you to dumb to speak to me pet? To busy getting off on the thought of me and my sword? Thinking about how many lives ive taken with it? So dirty.” as he says these things his hand begins to trail from the side of your face down your body, causing you to shiver and let out a whine. “Words princess.”

“P-please...want you to fuck me with your sword.” he chuckles and moves a hand between your thighs, slowly moving to tease your entrance. 

“Already so needy for me and i havent even touched you yet, what a dirty little whore” he starts to tease you, rubbing your clit softly and using his free hand to hold your hips onto the bed. You throw your head back and moan softly, desperate for more pressure and touch. You soon get it as he moves his hand from your hips to tease your entrance, pushing one finger in slowly. You arch into his touch, causing him to pull his hands away. “Be good or ill stop and leave you here, nasty slut” you whine and nod, biting your lip as his finger dives back inside you, stretching you out in a slightly painful way. Hes always been bigger than you in every way, hell his hands were twice the size of yours. Once you adjust, loud moans and cries spill from your lips. He adds a second finger and your eyes roll back from the pleasure of it, your legs moving to wrap around him be they were quickly moved back into place by him. You let out a near sob as he pulls his fingers away from you, reaching to grab his sword. He moves it between your legs, slowly pressing the end of the hilt inside you as you wail at the sensation. He only puts the end of it in before stopping, going back to rubbing light circles on your clit.

“If you want more you have to beg. Tell me how much you want it and maybe ill let you cum.” you start babbling out pleas for him to continue. He pushes the rest in without hesitation, setting a rough pace as you gasp and choke on moans from the sudden stimulation. The pressure on your clit increases as he keeps fucking you with the hilt, bringing you closer with every second. 

“G-gonna...please let me…” just as you say that he pulls the hilt out of you and moves off of you, causing you to let out a choked sob “please please dont stop please” he chuckles darkly and looks down at you.

“Oh so the baby knows how to beg? Maybe i havent done good enough yet,” he quickly resumes his pace, causing you to roll your eyes back and reach your hands to grip his hair and pull him into a rough kiss, masking your moans and cries. He doesnt let up with his pace, bringing you over the edge as your legs begin to tremble, wrapping around his waist. He doesnt slow, if anything he moves faster, your orgasm spurring him on to make you cum again. 

“So pretty, wanted to see you like this for so long. Getting off on something so evil like the whore you are.” he whispers into your ear before moving to bite your neck, drawing a scream from you as you cum again, unable to come down from your first orgasm before the second one hits. Hes relentless at this point, drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you until youre crying, overstimulated and fucked out on the hilt of a sword that has killed thousands. When he finally pulls away, your cum is covering the hilt and almost dripping onto the blade. 

“Gonna do this every time i come back, watch you get fucked out after i take a life with this. Now that ive treated you like the queen you are, i think its my turn baby.” you nod below him, to fucked out to speak and your voice hoarse from screaming for him for what felt like hours. He chuckles and moves you easily to your knees at the edge of the bed in front of where hes sitting. You instinctively open your mouth and he spits into it, you swallowing quickly before he shrugs his pants off and moves you right in front of him. “Looks like youre to dumb to suck me of right so ill just make you do it instead.’ you nod quicky as he puts his member in your mouth, starting to fuck your mouth roughly. He lets out soft growls and groans as he continues to use you like a toy, more tears slipping down your cheeks from how deep he is in your throat. You gag slightly and he throws his head back, moving faster. “So good princess, being so good for me. Gonna fill your mouth up, dont want you to waste a drop.” he keeps going, cumming down your throat and staying there as you swallow every drop before he pulls you off him. You open your mouth to show him and he smiles down at you. He lifts you off the ground and carries you to the bathroom, setting you on the counter as he runs a bath, helping you into it when the water is ready.

“Did so good for me my persephone, so wonderfully.” he praises as he washes your hair. You lay back against his chest and start to drift off, only to be woken by him picking you up and carrying you carefully back to the bed and laying you down. He moves the blankets over you and pulls you against him.

“...mmm love you tecchno”

“i love you too princess” 

[woolywoofs]

I wanted to post a little update. And ask for a little help, again (paypal posted below, please dont feel pressured! you and your needs come first always).

Moppa and I are still grieving Skvetta, but we are managing now. She can be left alone now without panicking and she no longer searched for her in the yard.

I had my tonsils taken out last friday, on my birthday lol. Surgery itself went well, but beforehand did not. My IV infiltrated and all of the meds to calm me down and put me to sleep just went into my soft tissue. It was extremely painful and I started to have a panic attack on the table because of it + the oxygen mask makes me feel like im suffocating (i know it doesnt make sense haha). All hands on deck after that and I had 3 people on me at once sticking me trying to get IVs in me but my veins just kept breaking. It was actual hell and felt like forever.

Recovery has been a hot mess honestly. The first 3 days were fine and since then its been reaaal bad. The ear, throat and tongue pain is unreal. I am drugged out of my mind because pain/stress is a huge seizure trigger for me, but at this point it is not really working. I did have 1 bad seizure, to a point where i had broken capillaries in my face. But thankfully it didnt create any issues with my surgery recovery. Im hoping things will start improving soon.

Generally my epilepsy has fucked up a lot. My short term memory is messed up and I have lost some skill sets after the bad seizures. I have been re-learning how to draw and paint! It is a very tedious process but i really feel like im making progress.

My autoimmune disease has been lowkey out of control and I saw my rheumo and I am going back on a low dose chemo drug. It really did help last time, it just made me so sick. But we will be looking into every option to control my nausea etc! So im trying to be hopeful. Ill start once im completely healed from my tonsillectomy, since the meds make you more likely to get infections and slows healing.

My uterus has also been absolutely fucked, once again. We were really hoping that removing the mass, scraping my uterus and putting the IUD would stop the bleeding, and it did, for 6 months. But im having issues again and I saw a specialist and we decided that the only option left for me is a hysterectomy. There is a year long wait though. This wasnt exactly on my list of things to do at 27.. but i suppose it is what it is.

Now for some good. Moppa is healthy and happy. She was attacked by a dog in september and got a bad gash but shes completely healed! She loves the fenced yard. We have been working on nosework stuff when im feeling okay enough for it! She is honestly such a light in the dark and I love her.

I get to renew my lease next year so i dont have to worry about housing!! Rent will be increasing bc inflation but im okay with swapping some meals with ramen to make things work, when I cant make extra money. I have been learning how to quilt!! My grandma does it a lot and i asked her to teach me so I am working on a project with her.

While things are generally a hot mess right now, i am mostly okay. And i feel like thats a big improvement for me, im not sure I would have handled all this a year ago. And im proud of myself.

With everything going on, I have obviously been unable to do commissions, or taking in dogsitting clients or anything i typically do to make money. If anyone is able to help, it is really appreciated. *This is my PayPal*, im afraid its my only way to receive anything. *any* amount helps. I really hope this is the last time i ever have to ask for anything. I feel like things are going to turn around now that we have solid plans to help with my health issues. The hope is that once my uterus is out and the low dose chemo has gotten my overall pain under control, that my epilepsy will chill out. It seems to be easily triggered via pain and hormones.

Thanks to anyone who had the patience to read this thing. I just havent posted an update in so long that there was a lot to say 😅 i am going to start being more active on here as ai really miss it. I will include the 2 art pieces I managed to make and finish. It took forever to figure everything out but im proud of myself. Quality may be a little destroyed bc tumblr likes to do that... i really hope i can offer commissions again soon. I might choose a person or two at random that donates and do a ghost commission like below for them? I can at least try. But youd have to message me on here after donating so i know who you are, i think i can attempt dog, cat or rabbit. But i cant promise anything.

I talked forever, im so sorry lol. Here is the paypal again because its definitely lost up there in the babble

Just to end this.. Has anyone here had a tonsillectomy as an adult and can tell me at what point it got better?

[corpsebasil]

Easily Replaced | part 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

Kaz Rietveld didn't need a reason.

You knew this, of course, as you always had, but it was most clear the day you, Jordie, and Kaz stepped foot into Ketterdam. The two brothers were, as long as you’d known them, ambitious. Ketterdam would fuel that ambition.

"For you, Sankta." Jordie Rietveld laughed, and covered your eyes with his hands.

He was thirteen—much too old for you, as you were only eight, and though you were teased back in southern Kerch for hanging around with him so much Jordie was something like a brother to you. Your own parents were gone—your mother a woman who died too young and your father a mystery.

"I thought you were getting me food." Kaz scoffed, plucking the wrapped omelette out of your hands before you even had a moment to see it.

"Kaz!" You shrieked as you tore out of Jordie's grasp, lunging for the food, but Kaz simply laughed in return, looping his arm around your shoulders and tugging you along, sharing the omelette between them.

The omelette stands in Ketterdam were Kaz and your favorites.

"(Y/N), wait." Jordie called and you paused, turning to glance over at him. His expression was wide and happy—the happiest he'd been in a long time, since he and Kaz's father had died. "Welcome home." He said, and you smiled.

"WAIT!" You yelped, lurching into sitting position so fast your head spun.

He was there, you thought, still blinking away the image of Jordie from behind your eyes.

Your heart raced and your eyes stung as you stood, scanning the streets several stories below you. You’d fallen asleep on the window pane after sneaking into your room at the Slat—if Kaz wanted you gone that night, you’d be gone by morning just to spite him. If only so you had more time to snoop around.

You weren’t expecting the dreams again.

You wiped your hands over your face and sighed, blinking away the remnants of sleep and forcing Jordie to the back of your mind. Jordie Rietveld would always stay in the very back of your mind, in the dregs; you’d think about him only during your last breath, and wouldn't let yourself do it one moment before then.

You crept out of your room and glanced around its interior once more, hefting your satchel over your shoulder. You’d miss this place—you’d miss Ketterdam, but if leaving helped keep certain memories at bay and kept a certain someone from bashing your head in it was worth the risk.

Your feet were silent when you finally dropped to the streets outside and ran, taking back-ally's and fire-escapes and rooftops as you traveled across Ketterdam on a route few knew. Your mask was pulled up and your hood rippled behind you, your shape merely a black speck against the moonless sky.

When you reached the Crow Club you ducked the guards and snuck through a window at the top. If there was anything to be known about the heist for one million kruge the Dregs had been murmuring about, Kaz would know about it. And if you were anything you were vengeful, and you’d get that prize to earn your freedom or you’d die trying.

"The Orchid isn't Dime Lions turf." Kaz's rock salt voice reached you and you paused, one foot sinking into the plush carpet of your old friend's office.

"Well, it's a new acquisition." Another voice purred, and your blood ran cold.

You knew that voice.

That voice had haunted you for years.

"You heard it here first." The voice continued, and you dropped into a crouch, tugging your hood over your head as you crept towards the office.

Your heart dropped into your stomach.

Kaz was being held on his knees by a nondescript man with a sneer on his face while Pekka, Pekka Rollins, clutched Kaz's cane like he owned it. Your stomach rolled as you took in Pekka's face and you barely stopped yourself from gagging.

It was him.

It was the man who killed Jordie.

"Now, I know you saw Dreesen," Pekka continued, oblivious to the assassin hardly ten feet away who was contemplating his inevitable death. "You got the jump on whatever job he has. I don't know the details...obviously, just that you have a little travel hazard ahead of you. So. Here's the deal: you can do nothing—walk away from it. I'll tell Dreesen I'm taking over for you." He paused, a cruel smile on his face. "Then we're even."

"Not even close—" Kaz began, and you tensed. You knew the man holding him, touching him, was causing him agony.

You had to stop it. You had decided long ago that Pekka Rollins' death would be slow. You could make it last for hours—could make blades sing until he was nothing left but a scrap on a table, but something fast might have to do.

"The other option is..." Pekka began, leaning forward to press the beak of Kaz's cane against his jugular, and you lunged. "I'll cave your head in with your own—"

"Let go of him." You snarled and, quick as an asp, had one of your many blades nestled dangerously against Pekka's throat.

Kaz let out a sharp breath and tensed as the man holding him pulled out a gun, pressing it to his temple to balance the odds.

"Sankta Riipka," Pekka mused, seemingly unaffected by the knife against his neck. "it's nice to finally make your aqu—"

"Shut up, pig." You spat and dug the blade in deeper, your eyes snapping up to the man next to Kaz. You felt steel against your head and froze—

—you’d forgotten about the other member of Pekka's trio.

"By the time you kill me," Pekka began, oozing calm that made to your blood boil, "my friend here will shoot your friend. And then you." He made to twist in his chair and you tightened your grip, stilling him. You knew you were drawing blood. "You ought to make the wise decision here, Riipka."

"Let him go." You repeated, heart pounding violently, refusing to look at Kaz even as you felt the gun against the back of your head push harder. "Let him go or I swear on all Saints I'll slit your throat right here."

The room was quiet for several beats before the man holding Kaz shoved him, knocking your friend—was he your friend?—to the floor. You made no move to remove the knife—your chest was tight and your breathing uneven. Jordie's face was flashing behind your eyes and this moment, this moment, killing Pekka, was what you had been waiting for.

You could do it.

Why couldn't you do it?

You could—

"Stop." Kaz breathed and you froze, meeting his stare. His face was serious but his eyes—they were filled with pain. "Just stop."

"You should listen to Mr. Brekker." Pekka crooned and your gritted your teeth, biting back a snarl as you removed the knife and swung, knocking the gun out of the man behind you’s hands.

     He threw his arms up and froze but Pekka simply laughed, eyeing you like you were a monkey at a circus. You felt small and, for the first time in a long time, like you were eight years old again, sweating with a burning illness and being sheltered by a widow who had no kids of her own.

     You felt like you were eight years old, managing to survive the plague and stumbling down to the docks, half-drunk with a barely broken fever and finding Kaz laying drenched in sea-water on a dock, screaming at you in agony.

It was Pekka's fault.

It was all his—

"No one has to die today, Riipka," Pekka smirked at whatever he saw in your eyes and brushed past, chuckling to his accomplices as they left the office and slammed the door behind them.

The room was silent for several moments before you turned, watching Kaz as he stared at the floor, making no move to stand.

"Let me help you—" you began, reaching out to offer a gloved hand but he jolted, deer-in-headlight-eyes flashing to yours.

"Don't touch me." He snapped, face flushing, and the knot in your throat threatened to burst.

     He pushed himself awkwardly to his feet and scrambled for his cane, one hand absently on his leg as he winced. It was terrible to watch—he was strong all the time, and so serious but this...

...this was him broken. And you weren’t sure if you could handle seeing it.

"I should've killed him," you started over, hands trembling as you resisted the urge to reach out to him. You didn't know if you wanted to help or if you just wanted, needed, his touch. "I should've—"

"You should've been gone by now." He swallowed roughly as his cane hit the floor with a thud, eyes snapping back to yours. "I had it handled. We all could've died tonight because of—"

"Don't you dare blame me for—"

"Well if you had just left when I asked—"

"I'm not leaving you!" You shrieked, yanking off your mask and hood so that you could breathe better. "You can boss me around and yell at me and treat me like Jordie was my fault all you want but—"

"I don't think that," he interrupted, his face stricken as he stared at you. "Saints, (Y/N)." You were silent for a moment, both breathing heavily, before he shook his head and turned away. "If you're not going to leave me alone, at least leave the Club. I can't—" he paused, sighing exasperatedly. "I can't deal with this tonight."

     Without waiting for a reply he strode out the door and shut it, locking it behind him so you’d have to leave out the window. You waited for several moments until you were sure he was gone, strode over to the spare couch around the corner and screamed into the pillow until your throat hurt.

@iamnoobmaster69 @emil7y @balmasedas @euphoniumpets @subjecta13-thefangirl @itisroe @thefandomplace @ambrosia-v-black @i-padfoot-things @kaitlyn2907

hiii sorry I know this one was kinda angsty but it’s gonna spice up soon HA