#but sometimes words can have heavier meanings than actions

[hahskeleton]

you never realize how hard it is to put into text online how much you appreciate someone and what they’re doing until you actually try it

[yeyinde]

thank you for tagging me @ivymarquis ! i debated between this, the regency fic (fleshed out), or one of the other Price fics i'm working on (home from college for the summer and seducing hot older neighbour Price whomst you had a crush on since sixteen (aka daddy issues, the playbook), DomPrice, etc), but i think the Soap fic will probably be finished before all of those. so, here is the baby trap piece with Soap.

nothing smutty but this def captures their odd, imbalanced dynamic perfectly, i think:

“And you have no cellphone? No satellite phone?”

“Ye can check it—” he makes a flippant motion toward the glove box in front of you. “Deader than ever.”

You hesitate only briefly. Long enough to level him with a searching look that yields no results (every expression hidden behind a thick, unruly forest of overgrown hair jutting out to his Adam's apple) before you reach for the compartment, gingerly pulling it open, and—

Sometimes, things get overlooked by their surroundings. Swallowed in the vacuum. Blending seamlessly into the muddle, the commotion. Or hidden. Can you spot the mountain lion in this tumble of rock and bush?

This isn't like that. 

It sits on top of a manila folder. Sleek black and cold silver. You're not terribly well-versed in guns—the extent of your knowledge stemming mostly from formulaic crime shows aired late at night; CSI, NCIS, Criminal Minds—but you recognise this one instantly. Some sort of handgun. Police issued, you think. It's bigger than you'd expected. Looks heavier, too. 

Your heart stutters. The air galloping out of your lungs in a stammering rush. 

He makes a noise, soft and nonchalant, as if keeping handguns in the glove box of his old, burnt umbre truck is perfectly normal. 

“Fer protection,” he mumbles. You catch the jerk of his chin in your periphery. “Forgot I had it in here. Been usin’ the rifle for huntin’ mostly. Or the shotgun.”

Three guns. You swallow. “Why—” your voice comes out in a brittle whisper. You clear your throat. Pretend it helps, that you don't feel as vulnerable as you sound right now. “Why, um, why do you need three?”

“Not fae around ‘ere, are ye?” He echoes your words from earlier with a wry twist of his mouth, eyes slanting in the sunlight. “Tha’,” he takes his hand off your thigh to jab his finger at the handgun. “Is fer wolverines.” His index finger falls, his thumb juts out. He jerks it over his shoulder. “Tha’ is fer huntin’. The shotgun back home is fer bears.” 

You try to move out of the way when his hand falls back to your thigh, but the pain radiating up your leg immobilizes you. There's not much you can do in this situation but endure.

Military. Wounded in action. Three guns. Touchy. 

You're not sure what to think. It would be easier if you couldn't. 

“What do you hunt?” You ask instead, glancing out the window to the barren landscape rolling out around you. There doesn't seem to be much in the jagged hills, towering mountains. 

“Gettin’ hungry? Donnae worry, doe. Go’ tha’ pesky hare I was tryin’ tae shoot on the ledge fer dinner tonight.” 

It's not much of a comfort. The idea of being injured—by accident, he claims—to such an extent over a rabbit makes you feel a little sick. 

“That's it?” 

“I can make a mean steak outta anythin’. Stews fer tougher meat. Fish, too—whitefish, arctic grayling, and lake trout. Learned how tae make a nasty fishfry from the locals in Nahanni Butte. Bannock, too. Got berries ‘round ma cabin. Caribou, Moose. Taste better in tacos or burgers. Mountain goat, Dall’s sheep. Been eatin’ better ‘ere than ah did at home.” 

“And you're—just allowed to hunt them?” The website advised of a permit through some special outfit needed to hunt when you requested your pass into the park. Said that only aboriginals were allowed to do so. “You're not—”

“Aye,” he cuts you off with a small nod. “No huntin’ in the park. But. We're not in the park anymore.”

“Where are we?” You ask again, firmer this time. 

“I told ye. Nearly home.”

“And where is home?” 

The way he sucks his teeth makes you recoil slightly. Wet. Irritated. As if he's tired of this conversation already. 

“Close.”

You don't let his flat tone deter you. “Are we—are we still in the Northwest Territories?”

“Thereabouts.” 

It's not an answer. It doesn't reassure you in the slightest. 

You open your mouth to say so, words curling on your tongue when he jerks his chin toward the handgun, brow furrowed. 

“Thought ye wanted tae check on the satellite phone.”

His tone is severe. A growl curdling the ends, pitching it down, down. Displeasure, irritation, blooms in the gnarled petals of witch hazel when he narrows them into slits. 

[vermilionsun]

(Feel free to ignore this request if you’re not comfortable writing it)

may I ask for some headcannons for Ais and Vere (separately please) whose s/o suffers from depression? Thank you 💙

Sure thing! Disclaimer! They/them for s/o because we love inclusivity!

TW! Depression (obvi) I tried to make the headcanons as general and "light" as possible, since everyone experiences depression differently

If anyone wants more angst or heavier/darker themes, send a req

And always remember; Seeking help is a sign of strength, not weakness.

Vere

✦ Unlike with most things, Vere isn’t here to play around. Due to his apathetic exterior and ribald attitude, most people tend to underestimate his ability to care about anyone other than himself, yet that's far from the truth. In reality, Vere is fiercely loyal to those he cares about and will go to great lengths to protect them, even if it means putting himself in harm's way a̶n̶d̶ r̶i̶g̶h̶t̶ i̶n̶t̶o̶ t̶h̶e̶ S̶e̶n̶o̶b̶i̶u̶m̶'s̶ c̶o̶l̶l̶a̶r̶.

✦ He is there, okay? Even if he has to remind his beloved every other minute, he will.

✦ He will become their biggest supporter and advocate, their cheerleader in times of need, the person who will always be there to lift them up when they are feeling down.

✦ He is there to listen, to offer aid, and to provide a comforting presence and a fluffy tail during difficult times.

✦ Encourages them to seek a professional therapist or psychiatrist if needed and haven't already received such help. He will find the best resources and support available in all of Eridia. Plus, he offers to accompany them to their appointments.

✦ If he feels something's wrong with his s/o while other people are around, he will find a discreet way to ask them if they are okay or need to talk later in private. His s/o's well-being is his top priority.

✦ In addition, he always makes sure to check in with his s/o regularly to see how they are feeling. This includes visiting during work hours, bringing them their favorite snacks, and being available to listen whenever they need to talk—even if he has to sneak away.

✦ He'd get meals for his s/o when they are feeling down or stressed, run errands, or simply spend quality time together.

✦ He believes in showing his love and support through actions, not just words, and that small gestures of love can make a big difference. He always goes the extra mile through various small gestures or grand displays of affection—a surprise date night, a gift, a sketch of them, a handwritten love letter.

✦ Of course, if his s/o feels overwhelmed, he will respect their space and give them the time they need to themselves.

Ais

✩ He will prioritize his s/o’s well-being and make sure they know they are not alone in their struggles.

✩ He isn’t the type to push his s/o to talk about their feelings, but he’s there to will offer a listening ear without judgment, a shoulder to cry on, and a comforting hug when needed.

✩ This man is the  E P I T O M E  of patience.

✩ He will encourage his s/o to go outside, and find excuses to take them out with him.

✩ Otherwise, if they were staying home for extended periods of time, he’d make sure to distract them with activities they enjoy.

✩ Did I mention he's the word "comfort" personified?

✩ If there are other people around, he'd keep an eye on them and see how they're feeling. If he notices that they're getting overwhelmed or uncomfortable, he'll get them alone or somewhere less busy.

✩ He'd be more protective, a̶s̶ i̶f̶ t̶h̶a̶t̶'s̶ p̶o̶s̶s̶i̶b̶l̶e̶, making sure they have everything they need and checking in on their well-being.

✩ He'd encourage them to look for a therapist or counselor who specializes in depression to help them better understand and cope with it. He'd be there every step of the way.

✩ He'd always remind them that it's okay to not be okay sometimes, that they are not alone in their struggles, and that he will always be there to support them through all of it; there to listen, there to support, and there to love them.

[gojo-mochi]

omg softy thank you for always be willing to talk about kishibe, you always answer in the most yummy ways🛐🛐🛐

rn i'm just thinking about pulling him by his belt loops when you feel he's in your way but then becoming a habit and doing it every time you want something from him. a kiss?? pull. you want to leave the place you are at?? pull. you want to whisper something in his ear?? pull. want him closer??? pULL

he would scold you saying it's such a nasty habit and makes you look rude in front other people, he even go as far as pulling you hair sometimes while your fingers are still interlock on the loop "no. fucking. pulling" but deep down he loves it, he loves to have you hands on his pants even if it's such a mundane action, he loves that you always look at him with those big puppy eyes while holding into him, and he loveees the way you move him around to your convenience because he's all yours (also you move him around in public but he moves you around on private)

-kishibe anon🫧

THIS THOUGHT IS SO YUMMMYYYYYY MM IT BEEN IN MY HEAD SINCE I READ IT GODDDDD 〔´∇｀〕KISHIBE ANONNNNN I LOVE YOUUUUUUU!!

Also idk why it went a little ermmm deep in some parts just ignore that i was going thru things

I can def see you doing it first during an argument and Kishibe being Kishibe is just flat out ignoring you, not even turning his back on you. Just looking over your head and puffing out smoke from his cigarette. You’re basically just a squeaky little mouse in his eyes now, or an annoying little yapping dog. 

You stomp your foot at his display. Huffing out your cheeks and squeaking out in anger, trying to get him to stop from eating your leftovers again. Kishibe cleans out his ear with a pinky and taps away at his phone. 

“Damn, old man… I know you don’t text anyone but me and work.” 

Tired of his antics, you stomp right up next to him and grab him by the belt loop, using all your spite and power to pull him forward. Catching him off guard like this, you actually managed to make him stumble a few steps towards you. Dropping his cigarette in shock at your action, mouth agape as you start your rant once more.

Thinking that you fully have his attention now, but his mind was turning gears over what just happened. Your cute little fingers still wrapped around his belt, your angry puffed out cheeks, the fact that you were even able to move him forward. 

“Hey, hey! Are you not listening to me again? Kishibe! I swear to go-AHHH!”

Without a word from him, Kishibe hoists you up over his shoulder and loudly smacks your ass, as he makes his way to your shared bedroom. 

“Wh-what the fuck, Kishibe?!”

You were confused on whether to stay angry or go along with this, as you didn't get the apology you wanted and you didn’t get to finish your rant. But on the other hand, you can’t deny that when Kishibe manhandles you like this, it leaves a little wet spot on your panties. 

Kishibe kicks the bedroom door open and unceremoniously throws you on the bed. You close your eyes and brace for the soft impact, your back bouncing off the bed a little. WIth your eyes still closed, you soon felt the bed dip under the weight of Kishibe following after you. His hands pressing down on either side of your head.

Your eyes waver but you tried to keep the glare on your face, still displaying your anger upfront. Kishibe stares down at you with that same deadpan face he always wears. But you knew him long enough now to notice the little differences and what they mean. Like the way his lips are slightly curled up and his breathing is just a tad heavier than normal.

You could tell how much he’s holding back from immediately tearing your clothes off and claiming what’s rightfully his. But he’s better than that, Kishibe knows he’s not a good person by any means, but he’s trying, trying for you. He’ll never admit it upfront, he’ll hide behind his gruff facade until you finally leave him. A fear that still lingers inside him every morning, that one day your warmth will leave his side and he wouldn’t blame you if you did. 

He stares at you for a tad too long and it makes you worry a little, so you try to snap him out of his stupor by pinching at his cheek. Kishibe blinks twice and meets your gaze once more, you tilt your head to the side to silently question him. All anger and annoyance inside you gone due to the weird silence now, instead confusion lined your expression. 

“Old man?” Your voice calls out to him, pulling him back into reality, the warmth of your hand on his cheek brings back life into his eyes. 

He places his hand on your and brings it up to his lips, closing his eyes as he feels your warmth closer now. Another moment of silence passes between the two of you before Kishibe finally speaks.

“ ‘M Sorry about eating your food, can’t help being hungry all the time, it comes with old age.”

He rolls out that last part sarcastically, slipping your finger in his mouth and gently biting it. Wrapping his tongue around your digit as he keeps a tight grasp on your wrist to stop you from pulling away. 

“I know words don’t mean nothing without any action behind them, so let me show you how sorry I am tonight…”

The next morning when Kishibe leaves early again for work and you shuffle to the kitchen on your shaky legs, holding your sore back, body covered in bite marks. You find take out from your favorite restaurant on top of the kitchen counter. 

You didn’t realize back then how much the belt pulling affected Kishibe that night, and he didn’t bring it back up again. So, it was a while before you did it to him again, this time not out of anger…

Some other moments where you pulled on Kishibe’s Belt~ =＾● ⋏ ●＾=

It was hard to get Kishibe’s attention most times, he was a busy man after all. You took it in stride most times, understanding this was what you were getting into when you both decided to continue this “relationship”. Still, you've been eyeing the ice cream truck for what felt like hours now, even making small hints toward it.

Until you finally got sick of it and said out loud, “Woowwwww, it's so hard today, sure would be nice to have some ice cream right now.” 

He just hummed in response, his gaze more focused on the surrounding area and looking for any possible threat to you. You let out a long sigh and yank him forward by the belt, until he stumbles a bit towards you with a surprised look on his face. 

Before he could get a word out, you hastily point at the ice cream truck with a glare plastered on your face. Kishibe slowly turns his head to the truck and then back to you, focusing his attention to your cute little hands still holding on to his belt.

He chuckles, placing his hands over yours, looking down at you with a hint of a smile on his face. 

“If you wanted something sweet, creamy, and sticky, you know you don’t have to beg like this for it.” 

Your mouth opens to retort back but Kishibe holds a hand over your mouth, effectively shutting you up. He squeezes your cheeks in a little and drags you away from the ice cream truck and into a secluded alley. 

Pushing you against the wall, his hand lowering down to your neck and the other one hooking inside your pants. 

“Now you can see this either as a treat or a punishment, brat.” 

“Punishment?! Punishment for what?” You just wanted to get his attention to buy some ice cream, what was so wrong about that?

Kishibe snorts at your little outburst, and pats your head a bit roughly. Laying his hands on your shoulders and pushing it down, his usual signal for you to go on your knees. You glare at him but soon submit to his silent demand pretty easily. Lowering yourself down to your knees in this dingy alleyway. 

Kishibe looks down at you and slowly undoes his belt, voice low and gravelly as he scolds you. 

“Don’t tell me you forgot what you just did five minutes ago? Grabbin’ my belt and pulling me in public?” He shakes his head with a click of his tongue.

“Naughty brat, since you want my attention that bad, I’ll give it to you..”

[theliterarywolf]

honest question, who is Sean Chiplock and how is he annoying sometimes? your post is the first time i’ve heard of him and i make a conscious effort not to use or interact with twitter at all so i have no idea what’s going on

Voice-Actor. First got into the public consciousness for his work as Revali from Breath of the Wild, but other popular roles he's done include: some random pretty boy from Genshin Impact (I know it's a prominent character, I just don't care enough about Genshin to look it up), Purple Yam Cookie in Cookie Run: Kingdom, and most recently Kinger in The Amazing Digital Circus.

Really, when I say 'he's annoying sometimes' it's that he can sometimes get a tad sanctimonious when he's talking about social issues. But, other than that, he's fine.

The reason people are trying to turn on him now (and by 'people' I mean 'maladjusted children who need their internet-privileges revoked') is because he dared to not agree with kids attacking people over fictional ships.

However, because every fandom puritan knows that, deep down, their accusations don't mean shite to anyone with more than two braincells to rub together, they've started to lump in other heavier accusations to give credence to 'he supports icky ships, so he's a terrible person, weh'.

Such claims include:

'He's racist!!' For making jokes about Chinese knockoff products. Which, you know, people have been making all over (particularly when it comes to the current state of artist alleys/halls at conventions giving tables to people reselling shoddily-made junk from AliExpress/Wish)

Also, in case anyone tries to bring up that tweet where he supposedly said the N-word: how many NewGrounds lurkers pulled that same shit when they were in their late teens-20s? As in, the same age-range he was when that tweet was made?

And 'He defended a groomer!!' When, in reality, when it came out that another Genshin Impact VA was a legitimate predator, Chiplock actual condemned the VA in question while telling fans 'remember, it's perfectly fine to separate a character from the person who voices them in situations like this'.

Meanwhile, a certain someone who voices a certain pastel-unicorn in the cookie game went on a tirade about how the Japanese BL industry and those who support it should be 'burnt to the ground' and, as of today, no action has been taken/no one is calling for their cancellation. So, you know: priorities.

[somuchcoffeeandwine]

Another @tav-dex submission, because I finally got inspiration to draw again and also I've been doing their run. My second Durge, Yvaine

Ignore the shitty quality, Tumblr hates me. But yeah, Yvaine! Horrid creature.

Transcript of stats because I'm told I have shitty handwriting sometimes:

Yvaine (Pronounced Yev-ine)

Lolth-Sworn Drow (Not a full Bhaalspawn, like Dark Urges are. Their mother was a drow)

Gender: No (Non-binary, They/Them)

304ish years old

7' 05" or 219 cm for non-freedom units (They are tall yes.)

Ranger, Gloomstalker (Main weapon is a heavy crossbow, it just obscure their armor and I prefer to show that off for reference purposes.)

Monk, Way of Open Hand (I honestly just find it funny with them kicking people in the face in heavier armor, this is due to my first playthough with them)

Deities:

Former worshipper of Lolth. Being born a Lolth-Sworn drow does do that to you, but well... They like driders for a reason, seeing them as kin.

Bhaal: Bhaalspawn, and therefore a worshipper of his. They are called his Ranger for a reason, hunting his prey down whenever it's demanded of them. And also him claiming them caused them and Everlest, meeting for the second time, to slaughter the entire house. They would be a drider if Bhaal didn't protect them.

Stats: Similar to Everlest and the other Chosen, Yvaine has higher stats because bullshit.

Strength: 16

Dexterity: 16

Constitution: 16

Intelligence: 16

Wisdom: 16

Charisma: 16

Full Name: Yvaine Hun' Ani (Meaning Sisterhood of The Widow)

Background: Haunted One/Soldier (Soldier if you weren't forced to take the Haunted One)

Alignment: True Neutral. They do things outside of morality, good, evil. They live only for the hunt.

Additional ramblings below:

Yvaine was made tall because I decided one day that it was not enough for them to just be taller than first Astarion (Initial playthough, purely because I didn't have the greatest sense for them) and then Gale (Current romance, and I think the one I'm sticking with), no, they had to tower over all of their companions no matter what. They will be terrifying no matter what. But as mentioned, they are involved with Gale. Something about his autism attracted them. But they often are back with him, the two being ranged attackers, until someone gets close, and then Yvaine smashes them into bloody bits. All to protect their boyfriend. Even when they don't realize it.

Their simple method of dealing with the group's various problems when talking to people by threatening them. A crossbow held to the head solves most problems. They also don't usually speak much, preferring their actions to speak for them, and are usually blunt with speaking, as well as not using massive words. The only time they actively deceive people as well are lies of omission, as they don't like lies. Imagine how they feel about more than half the camp keeping secrets most of the time. They also get along fairly well with Halsin, the two both understanding nature well, and often sitting together whittling in comfortable silence. Safe to say, I like them quite a bit. They've got their own fanfic that's getting written, called Ranger of None. What can I say, I enjoy writing things that I might not publish

[arenabreadandbiscuits]

Belphegor x AMAB Reader || What A Good Boy~

-

Another commission finished ÙwÚ

Word Count: 4, 130 words

Rating: Rated R, 18+

Includes: AMAB Reader, he/him pronouns, Poc Reader, Brown skinned Reader, Praise Kink, A bit of breeding, Biting, marking, claiming, fingering, tickling, anal play, fingering, etc

A/N: Thank you SO much for commissioning me Anon! Your love and care means so much. I hope you enjoy your story and if you have any reviews please leave them in my ask box!

-A

~

He's at it again.

Belphie had developed this thing where he'd go out of his way and find you even when he would get grumpy in those moments when you were actually really busy and couldn't always be able to be stuck to his side.

You always came without struggle or argument when you could and it was actually so nice being in the seventh brother's room, in his bed, surrounded by Belphegor’s presence and most prized things.

This time was no different from many others before.

You huffed softly when you felt the feeling of him scooting closer, the space between the two of your bodies practically non-existent now, just the way he always seemed to like it. You stay still as he leers even closer and this time he seems to be the one to lightly huff before slowly moving forward and slipping his head in the spot that occupies the space between your jawline and shoulder.

He takes a moment to take in your scent before he breathes out your name, his breath running over your throat while his hand crawls over the curve of your hip.

You hadn't even been sleeping fully, just almost there when he had started this and now you couldn't help but bite the inside of your cheek, gently nibbling. Belphie just couldn't seem to help himself, sure he wants you to rest but oh you're scent is good enough to actually eat. Ever since you first arrived in Devildom he found himself attracted and attached to your natural smell which always seemed to send the most filthy of thoughts through his mind whenever he picked up on it. You keep quiet, playing coy and seeing just what exactly would come from such a reaction and for a moment Belphegor seems to pause.

His hands continue to touch you with ghost like caresses though after a brief moment of thought, gentle brushes of his fingers slowly turn heavier, and hotter especially as Belphie seems to move one arm to wrap around your stomach before pulling the two of you flush together. He's already managed to be excited himself, the chub in his pants throbbing as thoughts of just what the demon of sloth planned on doing.

“Y/n?~” Belphegor lightly hums, his warm breath puffing against soft and beautifully melanated skin.

“I know you're awake~ There's no need to hide it from me..” he says in that low tone of his, the tone that he always seemed to have and you is was sure of his title but it makes you shiver nonetheless, you had learned by now that these actions of his definitely meant he was up to no good. As lazy as he may seem to do many things… with you in his bed it's like you've awakened the real beast in him. One that just wants to tear into you in all the best ways, one full with passionate energy even though he's still taking his time.

You couldn't fool him, no one was better at sleeping and resting and pretending to sleep, than he himself.

“What do you want?...” You softly say in response, feigning annoyance, your eyes opening slowly only to soon flutter back shut as Belphegor places a kiss on that precious tanned skin. It sent a shot of heat down to your gut almost immediately. He takes his time; smooching your smooth throat one, twice, three times until you can't help but squirm.

Quickly you find yourself growing excited, just as hot as he most likely is right now and the way that Belphie runs his lips over your neck and his hand down your stomach to grip your shirt and lift it just so he can trace your beautiful brown sends sparks shooting through you and up your spine.

Sometimes you almost seemed to doubt him and his nature as a demon. Belphegor was so sleepy usually and you had to admit it was definitely a good cover for his devious acts. He always seemed so lively in these moments, in these times where he could touch and grope at you and you always found your heart racing in your chest.

“Can't I just want to hold you?” The demon brother hums softly, his eyes lidded and glowing in the dark while his lips form a smirk against your skin. His nails seem to graze your skin before moving even lower until he pushes you night pants down a bit just to slowly slip his hand past the hem. You make a soft noise under the action.

The action makes you look down at your own body, blushing more and more as you watched what he did to your body, watched as he easily pulls the excitement forth in you like he always did.

“You..you know what you're doing. I know you're up to no good Mister..” You breath, mouth falling open now as pants leave your lips thanks to Belphie opening his mouth in order to start nibbling on your skin.

He doesn't respond, at least not right now, letting you savour him and his touches while you watched with those eyes that began to fill with heavy lust and love. The difference of skin pigment managed to add to your experience, watching as those light hands traced and teased your brown skin. He and his touches stand out, easily making your mind drift and fog up as he continues the affection. He's so warm, so attentive and when his hand trails even lower to push past your boxers and takes hold of your semi hard cock your voice seems to catch in your throat.

His hold isn't extremely tight but it is snug. It wasn't exactly until that moment that you realized just how excited simply receiving his attention has managed to rile you up.

“B-Bel..” you say now, voice shaking a bit until you bite your bottom lip and lower your head considering Belphie seems to find humor in the way you react, in the way you shake and tremble, the way you call out his name with the night air hovered around the two of you. He rolls his wrist and your hips jerk with the rush of heat that shoots right to your gut.

“Oh look, you're already so excited to have me touch you. What a good boy~” He says in a sickeningly sweet tone, one that makes you feel like you've been hit by a bus thanks to just how your breath seems to catch.

You find yourself submitting, the blush on your cheeks grow darker and warmer while you seem to pant and just as you move to rut your hips with his jerking he frees your cock, cupping your crotch and giving the whole length a rub before he finds himself poking your testicles. They were already heavy against him, hot and warm thanks to the way your cock twitches with attention.

You moan this time, a low and heated sound that seems to excite the both of you this time because you definitely managed to feel Belphegor’s clothed, hard cock pressed up against your back.

His hand moves lower and you open your legs more, your pants know falling past your knees, his hand between your thighs and you mewl when his fingers seem to swipe over your sensitive asshole.

The puckered entrance twitches lewdly on its own and you toss your head back a little exposing it more to Belphigor's hungry lips and mouth and he doesn't hesitate to take advantage, his nibbles turning into bites as he groans a little against you. He moved his other hand to hook under your raised leg and he hitches it up higher, slipping those silly pants off of you with his tail.

He holds you open. Your shirt is lifted showing those perky and sensitive dark nipples and your head really is spinning.

How exactly did he always manage to get you like this so easily?

You still wondered the answer from time to time.

It feels so fucking good; the way his fingers seem to tease your hole, pressing against the rim and rubbing. You arch, moaning out, your mouth falling open and tongue slipping out and just then Belphie pulls his hand from your anus back to your lips.

He slips his fingers into your mouth, down your throat and you gag a little in surprise before blushing all over again.

“You might what to be more quiet right? Didn't you say something like that last time?” He hums, his tone playful and his eyes looks at you from your shoulder, saliva being the only thing connecting him to your sun kissed skin for that splint moment before he chuckles.

“Something about how someone might hear us?~” Belphie says with a low purr as his lips continue to move over that skin of yours, that skin that distracted him whenever he saw it whether it be glistening with water or under the bright sun. You were just so distracting, in every way to him and Belphigor never seemed to be able to actually get enough of you, to get enough of just how beautiful you were both in your own right and while you were against him, under him…

You open your mouth just then, attempting to respond only to jolt when his other hand moves and his nails runs down sensitive, ticklish, flesh.

The sound you let out as you squirm seems to be both a laugh and a whine, pleasure and the imposing feel of pain sent a surge of euphoria rushing throughout your body. He chuckles again, holding you tight, just the way he wanted you, especially as his tail wraps around your lifted thigh just to make sure you didn't run from him.

He chuckles again. The way you're already quivering against him has his cock rock hard in his own slacks. You were simply far too cute.

It isn't that you were actually hurt but how dare he tickle you right now? At a time like this?

“B-Belphie-” you speak, crying out a bit as he moves swiftly. Getting up and flipping you, his hand moving up to lace in those curls of yours while pinning you down with ease.

His breath is ragged now as he leans over you, his hand in your hair while his other grips your shoulder. If you could see the face he was making now you'd lose your mind, even so, you can still feel it… feel his gaze trailing over your human form as he presses against your back. He does what to hear you say his name, he really does.

“Aw, look how cute you are.” He hums as he towers over you, looking at your ass as it shakes in excitement and he takes notice of the way your anus trembles and twitches and he can't help but curse under his breath while biting on his bottom lip.

“I love looking at you…” Belphegor coos, his tone like a loving lullaby while also hiding something much more devious. “I love watching the way you shiver under my touches, listening to the way you cry out my name..” he hums before pulling on of his hands back for a moment, taking the time to tug down his own pants roughly as if having them on right now was a nuisance. He groans softly when his cock jumps out; it's hard, standing proudly and it's a good size, meaty and laced with veins. There's also the bit of fuzz he seems to have on him. “I love touching you…” Belphegor breathes, looking down at the scene. Looking at that round and jiggly ass of yours, at that cute puckered hole and the heavy testicles…

He's losing his mind. Usually Belphie was all about taking his time but there was nothing more that he wanted to do other than sink his cock into that cute hole which practically seemed to be calling him.

The demon can't help but take a moment to lean down, one hand wrapping around his own cock while he takes a moment to spread your cheeks with the other, slowly rubbing himself as he looks at that tight rim. He leans in and without thought he sticks out his tongue and slowly trails it out your hole.

You mewl loudly, your own cock jumping at the wet, warm feeling over such a sensitive space. Heat bursts in your gut and you grip the pillows with one hand while trying to resist fondling yourself with the other.

He's just as hard as you are now, maybe just a bit harder and he groans, pulling away from your cute hole, leaving a strand of spit.

“I love tasting you~...” He says and his voice is rougher now from licking your asshole or simply being driven to lust? You weren't too sure, but what you were sure of was that you were more than willing to do anything he said. Happy to get groped, touched, licked… by him.

Your entrance is glistening now with his spit and Belphigor growls this time when he watches it twitch.

“You're so handsome, so tasty, so ripe for the picking..” he says and leans back up a little, taking his cock now and sliding it over the wet hole. It's such a feeling, one that makes you arch prettily before giving that beautiful ass a shake. Then you reached back with both hands so you could take hold of each cheek and hold yourself nice and open for him, giving him another lovely view of that hole and when your anus twitches against him and his cock, his length seems to twitch with you.

It's like it was tempting him, daring him to jump in and dive deep and Belphegor folds under the pressure.

It feels so good, your eyes lightly roll in bliss and then you feel something pushing in. The head of his cock nudges deliciously against your anus and as Belphegor scoots in closer he sinks in even more. It really is a tight fit, his head slips past that ring and Belphegor has to remind himself to be careful, to be patient, to not just grab hold of you and fuck you like you deserve even though it was so, so tempting. Not yet even though you're so warm, so wet.

After the tip slips in Belphegor can't stop himself from groaning, his eyes lidded and hungry as he watches the scene, watches as your hungry ass seems to take him, sinking down on his length until his cock is fully submerged in your hot, throbbing tunnel, balls deep.

You moan heatedly with each inch that slides into you, a heavy blush coloring your cheeks when a lewd sound of him settling into fills the air.

It's so good, especially as he lets go of your hair just to run his hands slowly over your sun kissed skin, drumming his fingers along your ribs which makes you jolt and shake. With his cock stuffing you you can't help but be distracted by that and the way he's tickling you right now and you feel overstimulation, the tip of your cock red and leaking with precum onto the bed below you. You're pretty sure that you might've actually lost your mind this time, that he's finally driven you so far past any form of redemption and you were fine with that.

More than fine to be his.

To belong to him.

Just like he always said that you would. Those moments where you found yourself pinned under him and wonder just how it even occurred… you could see it now. You understood better.

So much better.

Your eyes roll back while your toes curl, fluttering shut when he moves to carefully grip your hips. He rubs your smooth, nut brown skin with his palms a few times, humming as he lets you get it together, watching as that cute hole of yours seemed to squeeze, clench, and flutter around him as you took his cock like many, many times before. His petting turns to lightly running his nails over those inches of sweet skin and your stomach clenches as a strangled laugh tumbles from your lush lips. Shivers harshly run up and down your spine thanks to the action and he explores more of you as the second passes, his nails running over those fat cheeks before running over your hips, then your ribs, and back down again. Your noises only continued, growing louder and more desperate as you trembled under him before shaking your hips; hoping, begging, praying that he'll have mercy because your mind was literal goop right now.

“B-Bel.. Belphie please!” You croak and your tears prickle at your eyes. You are literally a mess, that skin glistening with a light sheen of wet that he just wanted to slurp up but Belphegor was so excited that he worried he might just actually eat you this time.

Well no, realistically, no he wouldn't at least not after all this time and everything the two of you had been through together.

A world without your presence was one he didn't want to exist on and though it's taking quite some time and reflection to come to such a conclusion it was true. He wanted you, always wanted you and sometimes the intensity of his own emotions could make him completely insane over you. Just thinking about it makes him pull his hips slowly back before he even thinks about it and the slide of his cock rubbing your sensitive insides as he reels back makes you moan again. The feeling of him surging forward a moment later sends so much pleasure rushing through you that you gasp and stuff your face into the pillows quickly as you moan loudly.

You're cock twitches more now, the feeling of distant but upcoming release is something akin to scratching a cat behind its ears.

You're arched so deeply against the bed that the sheets rub against the sensitive head of your length and your hardened nipples.

If only you could see yourself. If only you could see just how cute you were.

Belphegor breathes raggedly, his eyes looking down at you, watching the scene as his cock rubs and twitches between your soft, warm cheeks. It's so fucking hot that he bites his bottom lip while a blush colors his own cheeks now. He can't help but grip your hip with one hand, watching as the puckered ring of yours begged to be plowed while his other hand moves up to rub over his own nipple and then giving it a pinch and you roll your hips against him as you feel his cock twitching inside of you. It's only for a moment, the way he touches his own chest, playing with the sensitive flesh, but it's enough. The feelings of pleasure and hunger he was having right now as he watches you roll your hips, building a naughty pattern as you pull forward until his tip seems just ready to slip out before sinking back down, taking all of him.

Your ass seems to squelch every so often and he bites his lip as if he might moan as well. You can hear his heavy breathing, can feel the animalistic energy building in the air and when Belphie grabs your hips and gives a sudden rough thrust. You toss your head back, moaning loudly out as the mushroom tip of his cock seems to smash directly into the sweet bundle of nerves located deep inside of you. It's so fucking good, the way he doesn't seem to care how loud your getting as he groans, growling lowly while he follows that pattern you had previously until you could hear the harsh, wet plap, plap, plaping sound that followed your breathless and desperate cries.

“W..What a good boy, you always take my dick so fucking well.” He snarls, chuckling as he pounds you, fucking your ass open until you were pretty sure it was loud enough to hear if someone walked passed the bedroom door and such a thought only manages to excite you more. Your anus hugging him some more while you fisted the pillows under you as if your life depended on it, the sound of the bed creaking and shaking under the power of his affection and love for you and your body that he just adored so much.

“Look at you, you should see the way your cute slutty ass is swallowing my dick right now… I might just take a picture next time~” Belphie hums, teasing and yet while the idea was tempting you whine, begging him to just be quiet and make a mess out of you. Well, at least you would have said so if your voice wasn't helplessly filling the room like a corner street whore but Belphegor got the message nonetheless it seemed as he digs his nails into your hips and roughly grinds into you, holding you down and making you take it as his cock teased that sensitive spot in the most delicious and mind numbing way.

You couldn't bother to understand anything you were saying now.

Not while you could feel it, not while that orgasm was running up on you with each pull of your hips he made, not while your cock was leaking like it was and your eyes were watering.

“B-BELPHIE- Bel.. Belphegor I'm.. fuck I'm…” you try to tell him, practically sobbing into the pillows before you while you do so and he grins wickedly behind you.

“That's right, say my name just like that~ Let me know how much you love it.” He coos as he continues pounding you, his hands holding you tight just so you wouldn't dare try and run away from such sensations. His name falls from your lips like a prayer, like an affirmation and with each cry he feels it while he absorbs the power that comes from such actions. And just like the good boy you are you do just as you're told,eeling and whimpering out his name and you're so loud that you're sure than even he has forgotten about keeping you quiet as he groans out, rolling his head back and exposing his throat as he rammed you over and over again. 

When you cum Belphegor has to hold you down roughly and he can't stop himself from giving a few more harsh thrusts before fucking deeply and then moaning, quickly leaning down and biting down harshly on your throat while you managed to squeeze the cum out of his own cock and the spike of pain that comes from it mixed with the pleasure of your orgasm leading you off the edge finally managed to break you and you jerk and jolt, trembling and shaking harshly under him as your orgasm comes crashing down of you in waves. Your voice stands out in the lust, choking out his name as you finally burst, heavy ropes of cum shooting out of your prick and ruining the sheets below and the way his hips grind against yours while making your cock rub against the satin sheets draws out every last fucking drop in a way that leaves your mouth wide open and eyes lidded heavily while you pant, mind completely fried. 

Your body is soaked with sweat by now, your thighs trembling, cock twitching, and anus quivering and you couldn't bother to imagine the look you had on your face right now. All you could focus on other than the aftershocks that rushed through you was Belphie's kisses which he lays over the back of your shoulders before he leans in to lick your neck free of any blood that he may or may not have caused in his heat of moment while he blew his nut in you. You purr under the attention, under the warm and sweet kisses up until he reaches to cup your chin, leading you to lift your head back until you look him in his eye and he grins at that blissed out look written all over that cute face of yours that he loves. 

“Did you like it?~” He says a bit playfully and you wanted to be mad at that stupid handsome grin on his face but yet you pant until you manage to catch some of your breath. You can feel his cum sloshing around in you. 

“Y-Yes, you know I loved it..” you mewled and he huffs out a little laugh before closing the distance between your lips, kissing you until you squirmed a bit for breath before he pulled slowly away. 

“Good. Very good.” 

~

-A

[raytorosaurus]

i think where people get confused is that mcr did try very hard and very overtly to make their shows a safe space for queer people and women which is not a political act it just feels political because being queer and/or a woman means you exist in a space where your being is politicised by those around you whether you want to actively be involved in those politics or not. but, as you said, the art itself is personal and the message at shows is generally also about personal expression and learning to be yourself and take care of yourself. there's an element of respect each other/respect each others' differences but that's not political there's no call to action there's no fight for structural change and that's totally fine they don't have to be that

yeah no you said it, i totally agree. like i said, they're only political as far as all art is political - maybe slightly more because they made an active effort to engage with a socially outcast audience, tho in their minds that wasn't about specific marginalised groups like queer people, neurodivergent ppl etc - beyond their vocal support of women at shows/in the scene, they were directing their art just at people who didn't quite fit in in general. there's a big venn diagram there (and obviously some contextual cause-and-effect in terms of what kind of people tended to be unwelcome in hardcore scenes lol - even then, mcr never made any statements about race or whiteness) but it's not like gerard started a band to empower or liberate specific identities in a political sense - it was very consciously an effort to sing more about general unifying human experiences - i.e. ones lots of people can relate to. one of mcr's (especially gerard as lyricist) greatest strengths is being able to tap into those "universal" emotions like grief, loneliness, self-hatred etc. and make them a little easier to confront head-on or feel a little less isolating. that's literally why they're popular - if they had been overtly political they simply never would have made it that big! wait i'll let hanif abdurraqib say it because he said it best (brief snippet from his wonderful essay on the black parade in his collection they can't kill us until they kill us - 100% worth the cost of the ebook alone, and all of his essays are brilliant).

that idea is kind of at the heart of mcr and something i really appreciate about it. there's actually very little specificity in mcr's lyrics by design - it's meant to be projected onto and interpreted. that makes it inherently difficult to politicise bc good politics requires clarity of message and intention. that in turn makes mcr pretty apolitical by nature - which isn't a bad thing! different bands (like all types of art) exist for different reasons, and mcr's reason is catharsis and connection far more than it is any kind of activism. we can be pretty assured based on the lyrics and what we know of the guys that their politics aren't terrible and that's enough for me.

the real issue comes in when people act like mcr are political and give them credit for something they're not (and something they've never really claimed to be!). i get that mcr is a gateway band for a lot of people into harder/heavier music - it was for me too! - but even bands one step removed from mcr in the same scene (e.g. thursday) are leagues more political than these guys are.

this goes beyond mcr/bandom now but....tbh i think a lot of it comes from that relatively recent attitude that's common in online circles that activism is heavily rooted in personal identity (which ties in with the harmful pattern of, for example, white queer people acting like they're somehow above other white people in terms of racism) and comes more from individual thought, words, and discussion (in which using the correct language sometimes has more weight than what you're trying to say) than it does from actual community action. this isn't an attack at anyone btw - a lot of the statements about mcr's politics around here are pretty flippant and light-hearted anyway, i doubt too many people are taking them super seriously, but it's probably worth considering. overall, i'm not listening to mcr for politics and i'm certainly not looking to any of them for political guidance, but it's nice to feel connected to them and to all of you guys and to know that they support my identity, but that’s kind of as far as it goes for me.

[drowninginblox]

Torched

Part 2

Part of him hoped that the last few days were a dream, that at any moment he'll wake up in that damn chair or even from his corner in the basement of the shit shack. But the bread in his pocket served as a guarantee that's not gonna happen anytime soon. Combined with the lakes of sweat keeping him awake in this living nightmare, Fit can only pace in frustration. “If you want, I can give you some time to ponder this. Although I am an immortal being, the concept of thinking on such large decisions is one I'm not lost on.” Fit sighed. Will you be gone? He didn’t mean to sound as harsh or vulnerable as he did, but it felt wrong for him to be guarded in his own mind. It was probably the emotional exhaustion getting to him. “I won’t be far warrior. Just call for me and I will come.” A moment passes before a shiver runs up Fit’s spine. A body-wide shake follows. And then silence.

So soft. The infamous FitMC has gone so, so soft. A lump in his throat closes his throat. He takes a breath and lets his shoulders roll. The muted pop and click of bones act as a good grounder in this otherwise devastating scene. Remember yourself. What did you do back then? His eyes close. For a moment, the humidity mutes. The cold air subsides. And rather than the stale air he’s been breathing in for a year, the smell of gunpowder and the taste of flesh linger on his tongue while a younger, lost soul, takes a daring step into the unknown.

Explosions, first vibrant in sound as they were in action, slowly mute as the souls of Fit's feet felt the ware of running for hours on end. From what, he didn't know. Anything though. There was always a reason to keep moving in the wastes, whether it be from the monsters that came out in the night or the people that just so happened to spot you out of your periphery. It's always something. Rest was a pipe dream. Always brief when there was some time for it, but it was always greeted with another reason to get off your ass. The howls in the night, the crunch of the ground sounding too close for comfort, the sizzle of TNT, or an offshoot explosion on the horizon. Sometimes you wouldn't know what's outside the cave until the preditor makes itself known. If you're lucky, you could see the obsidian being placed before the end crystal. You barely have enough time to block yourself up or dig away, but a chance is always worth fighting for. That's something he can't live without; chances.

Fit' likes to think he's grown since his time away but there's only so much calculation you can do before something makes itself known. It's ugly. Messy too if shit really hits the fan. Maybe that's why Fit was a janitor. When shit gets messy, someone has to note and take care of the problem. Speaking of- Maybe it was a few minutes? Could’ve been a few hours. Either way, his arm weighed heavier on his shoulder. A scowl was the only thing to meet him as he blinked away the aches. "What would Pac do?"

The words tumbled onto the cavern, making Fit's stomach twist at the cruel reminder. He could've sworn the weight in his chest didn't weigh this heavy. Last time it felt like a baseball. Now it's gotta be a bomb. I never asked for this, He screws his eyes shut. I know I agreed to this. I know I can't back out even if I wanted to, but- He couldn't help but choke out a chuckle. "Am I selfish by patching myself up with the people I care about?" He blinks a few times at the haziness only to feel the wetness of tears. "Fuck, really?" A groan rises from his stomach, intermixed with venom and the heat of untapped rage. An animal clawing at its cage to be released, the keeper, tired of the constant severance relinquished the beast of its cage, gilded with the pretenses of civility for station's sake. For everyone's sake. The noise progresses into a scream. One that even Fit could hear. Guttural and raw and for every sake of the word, it wasn't just the beast that was freed from captivity, it was the whole goddamn zoo.

The emotions can't take him away again. Not further than this. The stampede can kick his damn ass he will remain. Securing himself in a ball, that was all he can do against the impending release. Months of not knowing whether or not his friends and family were truly safe, years of stress built up and hardened only to be broken by people who thought they knew better than him how to live his life, days where the terrors crawled up his back to the point of mind-numbing exhaustion. All that was left of him ran away or dried up after the flood.

This was a long time coming. "For such a prolific warrior amongst your kind, you are very weak." A scratch of a cough was all Fit could do as a rebuttal. Does it look like I give a fuck right now? A warm laugh resembling the cackle of a campfire. For some reason, fit could feel the warmth of it. If the damp and cold of this cave was December in Alaska, then this feeling is the inside of a cabin. Right beside the fireplace. He almost smiles. Are you here to taunt me? "Oh no. I'm just here to make sure you're okay, warrior." Fit forces himself to stand. He wobbles slightly on the way up but he manages to steady himself with a deep breath. I don't think I deserve to be called that. It shouldn't have surprised him that the sun was gone. The night should follow the day after all. What was a surprise though was the lack of a moon to light up the sky. Things were illuminated as if there was one. And yet, there is none. Of course. "Oh?" Nonetheless, he eyes up the wall. "So tell me then, FitMC, the so-called legend of 2B2T, what are you?" Fit sighs. The scarf's coming off. "What I am is tired la-" he coughs out, swishing some saliva around to get the horseness out of his throat. "Emperess. My bad, It's Emperess right?" All the while wrapping the scarf around his only human hand. "This is gonna do a number..."

A hum mimicking shock meets him. "I'm impressed, here I thought respect was foreign to you. It appears the brute can show some." "Hey now," he rubs his hands together. the grime from the cave will have to do. "I may be from hell, but that doesn't mean we don't know the concept of authority." Snuffing it out united us them. He hops in place for a minute. It's been more than a minute since he's done this. "Then you should learn this lesson quickly, I am more than above your station FitMC. I am millennia worth of energy and intellect and wisdom, collected all into a flame that grows and develops as time progresses. You are but a spark compared to me." He smirks. "Degradation isn't my thing you're majesty. Nice try though,"

Fit leaps, holding onto a sturdy ledge before securing his feet. "Know your place, little warrior." Ma'am, yes Ma'am! He mimics with a little salute. This is gonna be a long climb.

[tarot-and-stuff]

Pick A Card - Queen Of Swords Edition

Readings are under the read more.  Video version is also included in source link. 

I actually did this the same day as the Judgment pick a card reading, but it took me awhile to type this post.  Same reasons as the Judgment reading (basically this card showing up a bunch when I did the February reads).

Pile 1/Alice In Wonderland

The first card to come out for this pile was the 7 of Teacups reversed, which is basically the 7 of Cups in this deck.  This card can suggest quite a bit of daydreaming, which is fitting with the Alice In Wonderland theme.  There is also a sense of being overwhelmed by options/possibilities/what ifs/etc with this card.

The second card to come out for this pile was the Ace of Spears reversed, which is basically the Ace of Swords in this deck.  This suggests a lack of clarity in a situation, likely in regards to the overwhelming options with that 7 of Teacups reversed.  Basically, it doesn’t seem like any of those cups seem to be the obvious choice to you with the haziness of the Ace of Spears reversed.

The third card to come out was the Page of Spears reversed, which is basically the Page of Swords in this deck.  This can suggest some issues with communicating ideas.  This can include keeping ideas to yourself and/or not quite knowing how to put your thoughts into words.  

The oracle card for this pile was Passion: Do What You Love.  Basically, some advice to pursue something that you’re passionate about.  Perhaps one of those options available to you is something that you are passionate about.

Basically, this pile is encouraged to act logically like the Queen of Swords in regards to an overwhelming/unclear choice that they need to make.

Pile 2/Teddy

The first card to come out for this pile was The Moon.  This is a card of mystery and more going on than meets the eye.  There can be some heavier emotions with this card, such as fear and anxiousness.

The second to come out for this pile was the Knight Of Cups.  This is a card associated with taking action on emotions.  This card is sometimes associated with the Prince Charming archetype.  For the majority of you, I feel like this card represents someone else rather than you.  

The third card to come out for this pile was the Queen Of Cups.  This card is associated with a loving and nurturing individual.  They tend to be open with their emotions and are often supportive to the emotional needs of others.  I feel like this card is the one that represents you in this case.  

The oracle card for this pile was Allowing: Let It Happen.  Basically, allow something to happen, especially if it is beyond your control.  This doesn’t mean that you have to accept it, but also knowing not to stress yourself out over things that are out of your control.

This pile was a bit different, but I feel like this pile is mostly about someone that will deal with someone else wanting to pursue them.  I feel like this catches you off-guard with The Moon card.  I do feel like you’re being encouraged to hear them out before you choose to reject or accept their offer.  

Pile 3/Anime

The first card to come out for this pile was the Ace of Cups.  This is a card about new emotional and/or creative opportunities.  Some of you may be exploring new creative outlets.

The second card to come out was the 7 of Wands.  This is a card associated with tensions and standing your ground.  Their is quite a bit of perseverance with this card as well.

The third card to come out was the Queen of Cups.  This card is associated with a loving and nurturing individual.  They tend to be open with their emotions and are often supportive to the emotional needs of others.  They also know the value of addressing their emotions rather than trying to ignore them, which could explain that Ace Of Cups as you exploring new ways to release frustrations connected to that 7 of Wands.

The oracle card for this pile was Honor: Acknowledge You, Me, And We.  Basically, be willing to accept the role that you’ve had in your accomplishments, as well as the ways that others in your life have helped you.  

Basically, this pile seems to be advised to find a healthy outlet for their emotions while they deal with some potential disagreements and tensions with others around.

Pile 4/Mystical Manga

The first card for this pile was Strength.  Basically, using your strength, physical and emotional, to get through situations that come your way.  Quite a bit of endurance and perseverance is associated with this card.  You may have been going through some tough times lately that have required your strength to carry on rather than give up.

The second card for this pile was the 3 of Pentacles.  This card is associated with working with others.  As a pentacle card, it is generally more associated with co-worker type partnerships, but can also represent closer connections too at times.

The third card to come out for this pile was the 10 of Pentacles.  This card is associated with financial stability and happiness with connections in your life.  

The oracle card for this pile was Playfulness: Just For Fun.  Basically, doing something just for the fun of it rather than focusing solely on the necessities.  

Basically, this pile seems to have been rather focused on handling things.  Things seem to be pretty good for this pile in general, although it certainly wouldn’t hurt for them to take some time to do something just for the fun of it.

Pile 5/Rider-Waite

The first card to come out for this pile was the Ace of Cups.  This is associated with new emotional and/or creative opportunities.  This can also be about exploring new creative/emotional outlets.  This may also be someone expressing their emotions to you/asking you out for a few of you.  

The second card to come out for this pile was the Page of Pentacles.  This card can be associated with learning new skills.  Those new skills could go with that Ace of Cups if it is a new hobby or something like that.  For those of you that the Ace of Cups is an offer from someone, this Page of Pentacles may represent that person, who wants to offer you something (the pentacle that could turn your 9 of Pentacles into the 10 of Pentacles).

The third card to come out was the 9 of Pentacles.  This is associated with financial stability and independence.  You aren’t reliant on anyone to provide for you.  

The oracle card for this deck was Instinct: Trust Your Intuition.  Basically, trusting what your intuition has to tell you about a situation.

[coffeeheartaddict2]

Everybody hurts sometimes (12/18)

Crash

Book: Open Heart (AU)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC a Casey Valentine

Featuring: Naveen Banerji, Alan Ramsey, Tobias Carrick.

Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption

*****trigger warning- this series deals with issues of abandonment and addiction*****

Category: Angst

Rating: Mature

Word count: 1841

Summary: Ethan is still haunted by Louise’s overdose and his self destructive behaviours continue, not only harming him but others. Casey makes a decision that adds to Ethan’s self doubt.

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Pixelberry

Authors note: have your comfort food ready pretty much from here to chapter 16. It will be confronting and quite the spiral that Ethan goes through.

🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃

It has been a week since Louise left Edenbrook and Ethan was still confronted. Everyone seemed convinced that he should have spoken to her and see what she had to say for herself, even after all this time but he did not want to know, with her actions, to him anyway speaking louder than any words could.

Ethan’s life fast became a cycle of work, drink, sleep. The only variation being when Casey came over in which the heavier drinking moved until after she was asleep.

He managed to successfully hide it for a few weeks but after a month and a bit of this cycle, those who cared and loved him the most were concerned.

Naveen recognised the signs quickly but gave Ethan time to sort things out himself. When that did not occur he came over, on a day when he knew Casey was not there.

“What is wrong Ethan?”

Nothing is wrong?”

“You can not fool me Ethan, I remember how wracked with grief I was when Priya passed.”

“I am fine Naveen!” As Ethan took another drink of scotch.

“No, you are not. I know you have always been work focussed but lately you have been more possessed than normal and I am sorry but you are also not doing a good job of hiding your drinking as you think. You looked less disheveled when you were putting in the long hours whilst I was dying.”

“I’m fine” said Ethan, voiced laced with emotion.

“Don’t go pushing people away Ethan, it is exactly what she did. Me, your father, Casey. We all love you and want to see you healed.”

“I wish people would accept my decisions. If you are not going to then please leave me be.”

Naveen was affronted. He had never seen Ethan like this and he knew that Ethan was indeed lying to himself but he left.

When Naveen arrived home he called Alan and told him of his meeting with Ethan. Alan was saddened. Alan confided that he had been on the outer with Ethan since Louise first made contact. Naveen asked Alan if Louise had given any indication as to why she left or did not reach out herself. Alan stated that she had not, she understood why I was leaving the ball in Ethan’s court. I mean I was shocked that she reached out after all this time and also shocked she was an addict.

“Was she not addicted to anything?”

“Work, she loved her job and she worked really hard, Louise is who Ethan got his workaholic tendencies from.”

“Well if his level of drinking recently is anything to go by then it is not the only addictive behaviour he has picked up.

Alan shook his head, well let’s hope history does not repeat.”

Naveen nodded in agreement.

Ethan’s relationship with Naveen was not the only casualty. Ethan had not been able to say I love you to Casey since Louise. It did not bother Casey at first, she knew that Ethan much preferred to show her he loved her in other ways but the lack of verbal confirmation was starting to bug her. He still refused to talk about what happened and how it was impacting him now. Even though he appeared to not drink excessively when he was awake, she would feel him leave the bed and come back smelling like a distillery. She knew drinking and even avoiding via sex was unhealthy but she was not sure how to even begin broaching the topic.

It was a week later after his chat with Alan that Naveen met with Casey in his office. The last time Casey was here she was requesting an Ethics Hearing after admitting to Harper that she gave the medication to Mrs Martinez.

“You are not in trouble Casey, please come in.”

“Thank you Naveen.” Said Casey, feeling a little more at ease.

“I am worried about Ethan, Casey”

“I am too Naveen. He has not been able to say I love you since Louise left the hospital, he does not drink to excess when I am awake but I know he gets up during the night.”

Naveen was saddened to hear this.

“I know he was hurt badly by her actions, I get not wanting to reach out but he was so confronted with her here and clearly he never healed from the trauma. I know he feels like he is unlovable but he is just self fulfilling a prophecy right now.”

“I understand, when my sister Priya died, I was a mess, she had cancer, I did get to say goodbye to her in person and it hurt. Deep down I knew she understood and we did speak before she passed but not seeing her, not being able to do much from afar…”

“I wish he would talk about it but I do not know how to broach the subject with him, Naveen. I have always known there was anger there but this is a whole new level.”

Naveen nodded, “Ethan has always kept Alan at arms length but even he has been pushed further away.”

“I feel for Alan, not only been pushed away but after all this time, your wife finally reaches out and all she wants is to speak to Ethan.”

“Did you speak to her whilst she was here?”

“No, out of respect for Ethan’s privacy though I wish I did.”

“You have been good for him Casey. I hope he does not push you away.”

“Me too” said Casey sadly. Casey left, saddened that Naveen appeared to be on the outer. Then she thought about how Ethan had been with her especially lately and she wondered too if she was indeed been pushed away.

She had late shifts the next few days then a day off. She decided that on the night before her day off she would see Ethan. It was late and possibly not the best time to have this conversation but the longer she left it the harder it was going to be.

She let herself into the building and made her way to his apartment. She used her key to let herself into his apartment. Ethan was awake but not sobre. He was not expecting the door to open and he was confused and became surprised quickly when he saw Casey.

“I did not expect to see you” slurred Ethan.

“You are drunk” stated Casey.

“I am fine…”

“No Ethan you are not.” Casey took a deep breath. “You have not been fine since she came into the ED.”

“Casey…”he walks over to kiss her but Casey takes a step back.

“No Ethan, we are going talk.”

“There is nothing to talk about!” Exclaimed Ethan

“Nothing too…” Casey throws her hands in the air in disbelief.

“The fact you think there is nothing to talk about is the issue.” Casey takes a few breaths . “I get the anger, if someone walked out for no reason and did not contact me again I would be upset too, but how is pushing those who love you and care about you helpful?”

“I am not pushing anyone…”

“Yes you are Ethan, ever since she has left you have pushed not only Naveen but also me away”

“No I have not pushed you…”

“How have you not pushed me away? Tell me. You can not even say I love you, or I care about you, I have started to feel used after we have sex, you sneak out of bed to drink…again Ethan, how have you not pushed me away?”

“I am not feeling loved Casey, how do you expect me to say I love you?”

“Therapy, I don’t know, confront Louise, find out why she left you, the answers are not in scotch and sex, you went through trauma Ethan.”

“That woman left me for drugs,pure and simple…”

“You do not know for sure Ethan, the addiction could have come later.”

“It does not negate the fact that she fucking walked out that door with no explanation no nothing!”

“That is on her, not you, you rose above it then but you aren’t now and it is killing the relationships that I know mean more than anything to you.”

“I am not ruining…”

“Yes you are Ethan, the longer you don’t properly address the issues, the more damage you are doing. I want to be here for you truly but if you can not accept the help and love from me, Naveen, hell even your own father then I can not stay. I’m sorry Ethan but I can not do us anymore if you keep down this self destruction.”

Ethan is a tumult of emotions but anger wins out.

“Then get the fuck out of my apartment.”

Casey tosses her key on the bench and walks out.

When Casey shuts the door, his anger turns to sorrow.

“Fuck” he tells as he throws a tumbler across the room. He collapses onto the floor and cries. He eventually gets up and gets another drink to numb the extra pain he is in.

Casey manages to make it to the lift before letting her tears loose. She knew deep down she loved him but she knew that she was going to get hurt more if she stayed. She made her way to her apartment. Aurora came home at the same time, surprised to see Casey. They head up. Casey telling Aurora the gist of what has been happening. Aurora asked what she was going to do about her residency. Casey said she did not know right now.

Casey went to bed and Aurora messaged Tobias stating Casey is wanting to look for a new residency, can we fit her in at Kenmore.

Tobias had to do a double take.

“What the fuck did you do Ethan” he muttered to himself.

Tobias then messaged Aurora that he would speak to the chief first thing.

Later that morning Aurora got a text from Tobias stating to come in early and bring Casey to meet with Dr McRae.

Aurora told Casey and she was appreciative. They met with Dr McRae and she was impressed. Casey was to continue her residency at Mass Kenmore. She was to start the following Monday and even said she would get the ball rolling with Naveen.Casey was appreciative.

Later that evening Naveen contacted Casey. He expressed sadness at her leaving. Casey said she had to, she explained how she confronted Ethan and how he was in denial of everything and how she ended it. Naveen was saddened but understood.

Naveen then sent an email to the team advising of Casey’s transfer. Ethan received the email. He read it but he was too numb. On a base level he knew Casey was right, he was pushing people away but he was scared of that fact that they may not indeed be there at the end of the healing so he did what he did to cope and that was to have another drink.

——-

Authors note: do we hate me yet???? Those who have seen my outline know that this is not the end of the spiral. But again happy ending. Next chapter there is a slight reprieve.

For those who have endured thank you

Tagging: @jerzwriter @jamespotterthefirst @cariantha @genevievemd @alj4890 @tessa-liam @potionsprefect @youlookappropriate @trappedinfanfiction @bex-la-get @crazy-loca-blog @a-crepusculo @ofmischiefandmedicine @liaromancewriter @schnitzelbutterfingers @binny1985 @lucy-268

@openheartfanfics

@choicesficwriterscreations

[mythvoiced]

@uroborosymphony | continued~

There's an ocean roaring violently in her ears that sounds like tonnes of skin-scalding chemicals thrown her way, chasing her down from a labyrinth of factory hallways that sometimes occupy even her kindest dreams - tallest dwarf and all that.

It roars with the ferocity of the sea and the death-wailing of the sirens dying within it, speared to death by reality as they take shape of all of Maria's hopes and dreams, even though the phrasing 'hopes and dreams' seems so out of place here, when the content of them tastes and smells like blood and ash.

She's angry.

And she's so fucking...

She never uses the word 'sad'... or 'upset', 'devastated', even, that's for... that's weakness, that's vulnerability, that's being the little girl she actually is, the girl she refuses to be.

Deva towers even when she's seated, it's an ability of those who use their body as a weapon, not as meat-bags to flounter on runways, a spin here, a look there to appeal to lingering gazes and sweeping looks. No, Deva's weaponizing lies in her body being an actual weapon. There's not a victor out there who doesn't do a double-take, who doesn't falter, who doesn't halt, who doesn't swallow or laugh awkwardly enough to bordering on hysterics when Deva's name is dropped into a conversation.

The respect earned by being so much bigger than Maria can ever hope to be.

She doesn't need to be framed by the smoke of her dying and abandoned cigarette, she doesn't need to be dressed like men line up to fall under her feet to be crushed under her calm stampede and women bear their throat to be clutched by her hand around it, she doesn't even need to stand up to prove that she is everything Maria dreams to be (on the other side of things) and is incapable of being.

So it certainly doesn't help Maria to watch anger bloom on her face and then watch her stand.

The step back is instinctual.

She isn't afraid of Deva. Afraid of what she's heard of her, of what she sees, the look in her eyes, the way her lips had tightened, jaws clamped shut at the order in her voice, so easily put back in her place by Deva for the mere reason that she respects her, that she does actually trust to look up to her as contrasted to just about anyone else's in Deva's position.

But not being afraid doesn't mean not occasionally behaving as though you are. Maybe it's an unconscious attempt on her body's part, remnants of the games she refuses to acknowledge sewn into her behavioral patterns like patches over ripped and hole-filled sweaters, signs of something torn that can never be fixed and brought back to its original state again.

Maybe it's an attempt to not lose Deva, not lose whatever interest she may have in someone so... so small. Not lose whatever care Deva did actually possess for her that made her take the time to explain.

She shrivels, a little, eyes flicker their gaze from keeping themselves occasionally downcast, to glaring up at the older woman, a defiant child, rightfully scolded and aware of her deserving all she's being told.

The guilt spreads in her chest the way it only should for someone half her age. Caught with her hand in the cookie jar or simply discovering for the first time that an action is not only that, every seed will have ramifications to grow.

And yet, and yet, even though something sour and venomous coils at the back of her throat as Deva goes on, even though the mention of Patrick and the implications of the struggle, the fight, the pain the two of them had gone through makes Maria flinch, her shoulders remained hunched together in defence, her arms come up to cross over her chest in defiance.

Her people.

Maria doesn't have a people, it's a weak sense of belonging but it's all she has--

Those were her people, kids just like her, people from her district.

How many people did Deva have?

It somehow makes the pulling of punches make the words preceding the ones spoken to her from closer proximity land like heavier hits. Oh how much shame can coat guilt when you're granted forgiveness, how sudden the realization hits that you don't deserve it only the moment it's offered to you.

Understanding.

A chance to bond.

A chance to ask 'what did it cost you?' and risk unwinding whatever pain hides behind Deva's straight back and assured step, whatever prompts her to put Maria back in her place and then reassure her, whatever makes her so good at both.

She lasts a few moments only with her hands in Deva's. Her throat is tight and raw at the lack of talking, as though she'd been made to shout. She yanks her hands out of Deva's grip, perhaps too forcefully, doesn't manage to look her in the eyes again when she steps back, off to the side, fingers reaching, hesitating, and falling off the edge of Deva's desk, as though she briefly considered collapsing onto it.

"And what," she starts, closing her eyes for a moment, as though she knows she will regret continuing to speak.

It cost me everything.

Deva looks spectacular in Capitol clothing. The angriest, most volatile part of Maria's heart almost wants to shout for her to simply take what she's offered. Abandon them all, would you? Have the life you might get if you let Snow win.

It's a mean, misplaced thought of a hurt young adult.

It's also the misguided and wrongly worded plea for a reality in which Deva won't be forced to lose anything and some of that pain in her eyes, so cleverly masked, can be healed.

"Mingle? Sweet-talk people into helping me? Play their game? Wait it out? How long have you and Patrick been suffering?"

What did it cost you, what is 'everything'?

"How long can you keep being cautious? How long 'til we realize they've always had us exactly where they wanted us... by forcing us to be cautious. Maybe you were wrong being like... like me-" it feels wrong, to claim to be something, even via implications alone, she's nothing she's nothing to be compared to, noth- "-back then but what about now? Is it the same?"

[time-to-write-and-suffer]

Wondering if I should put the elf marriage wip up on Wattpad again ... She's so silly but I love her <3

I remember when you talked about this wip a while ago. Omg I would love to read her 💅💅

I also had to ask: what's your favourite genre for books and games/IFs? Do these genres differ from what you write or are they relatively similar in terms of its genre?

I think I'll slap it up on Wattpad again just for shits and giggles. I've written like 60k and it's probably barely halfway into the story so like. Lmao. What am I even doing???

ANYWAY.

My favorite genres of IFs? I dunno, I kinda vibe with whatever in terms of genre, my pickiness comes from writing style and story focus.

I prefer ones that are more specific in scope and focused on character development and plot progression.

So games that describe themselves as "open-world" I shy away from, as well as like big, stat-based RPGs. If I wanna play something where I can fuck around and be a rogue-mage-warrior elf, I'll just play Skyrim, not read a fuckin 100k word book about nothing at all except stats and action scenes and interchangable bit characters. I come to IFs to read something interesting and to make choices that impact the narrative in interesting ways. To me, IFs are interactive books, and to me the pleasure of reading a book is about characters, narrative, and story. Adding interaction to that means I get to influence things, but not that I get to derail it like I can in Skyrim by ignoring the main quest line and fuck about collecting cheese wheels.

I do also gravitate toward ones with romance, obviously, but it's not a requirement if the story is good enough. Generally I also prefer fantasy over sci-fi, though mainly because sci-fi tends to frontload all the exposition and wordbuilding and is generally harder to get into. I also think that shooting lightning from your fingers is objectively cooler than shooting laser guns.

As for books, it's a bit more complicated, because I read mostly romance nowadays (don't have the spoons for anything heavier because I have brainrot), but I generally dislike romance as a genre. Not because EW GIRLY FEELINGS or EW SEXY MEN, but because mainstream romances tend to be very formulaic, both in terms of characters and relationship progression. And I get why that is, and that's probably why I keep finding them so easy to read. But for someone who loves to explore weird dynamics, funky tropes, new twists, reading romance gets kinda stale. I have fun writing romance, but when I read it, I feel like the authors don't? Like they're just boxing themselves in because that's what the genre says.

I also love fantasy romance in particular, because it lets you add a bunch of different layers to your relationship dynamic, plus it's just fun with elves and fae and shit. It's fun! But I love to also put some emphasis on the stuff that's outside the romance, but also keep it relevant to the romance? Idk how to explain it. Like my dragon wip where the princess dates a dragon sounds really tropey and stupid and it is, but I also touch on like ... culture differences, and generational divides, and prejudice and cycles of violence and stuff.

People always say "If you like romance in your media but hate the genre itself, read fantasy/sci-fi/etc with romance in it!" not taking into account that 1) That shit's really hard to find unless you mind spoilers because "[genre] with romance in it" doesn't always advertise itself as such and you'll need outside sources to recommend it to you and 2) the romance sometimes is so minor in these books that it's not really worth your effort, or it's prominent but entirely disconnected from the main plot, so it feels tacked-on even if it's well-done, which it isn't always.

I want romance where the romance is the main plot, but it's not the only plot, but other plots are also relevant to the romance. I want characters who are there to be smashed with other characters, but they're also their own characters, and the plot would still happen even without the romance, but it's only happening because of the romance.

DO YOU UNDERSTAND MY DILEMMA?! I can't even define what it is I want, so finding it in the wild is pretty much impossible.

I have decided to call what I write "epic fairy tales" because I want that focus on romance that fairy tales have and true love wins but where everything else also matters and is impacted by the love but also impacts the love in return, where the couple are the main characters but not because they must be in love but because they fell in love. AUGH. I don't know man my brain is broken!!!!

[ice-cap-k]

Wings

First ever attempt at Whump! Not even fully sure what whump is but I'm giving it a shot.

Cross posted on AO3 here: Wings

_____________________________________

Wings are a wonderful thing. Everyone on the server would agree with that sentiment in a heartbeat. Builders use their wings to reach great heights. It made placing materials on large builds considerably easier and safer without risking the fear of falling to a messy death. Skilled fighters often partook in aerial battles, a flashy show of rockets, arrows, and glittering swords. It added a new level of skill to combat that even the most bloodthirsty people could look forward to. Redstoners used it to painstakingly lay out their towers and carefully spread lines in acrid circuits that powered homes and farms built in the air where they ran less of a risk of inflicting collateral damage on the surrounding area. Adventurers used it to cross vast distances in short amounts of time to sniff out the most interesting biomes and gather hard-to-find resources. 

If you stopped to list every use for a pair of wings, you would be here for a very long time. And if you did, you can rest assured that Phil has probably used his wings to try everything on that list at least once.

How you obtain the gift can be just as exhilarating as the rush of the ground falling away beneath you when you light your first rocket. Gaining a set is a right of passage that’s different for everyone.

A lucky few are born into this world with a functioning pair of wings. These are the avians, the elytrians, the insects, birds, and even the very gods themselves. Though, for all cases, other than a god, the right to flight comes with a set of drawbacks. Sometimes the wings have to be earned through grit and determination. That means delving into the depths of the End for an abandoned elytra set. The ancient frames of dragon skin tanned and stretched over a fragile framework crafted by a race long since passed. Others are given as a sign of friendship and camaraderie. A gift of the most useful kind. One that can be built upon and customized. An extension of oneself able to be dressed up and reflect your interests if you’re willing to put in the effort.

He had spent weeks prepping to tackle that ender dragon on his own. That fight was no joke in a hard-core world. Not to mention how much time he had spent crawling through chorus forests and delving into abandoned Enderian cities. It was worth it though. His home base wouldn’t have been worth building without wings.

These are all things that are generally known. The facts of this world that are buried at the back of the mind in which people are always unconsciously aware of. Even now, Phil thinks of these things in fewer words as he watches his friends flying above him. They come as abstract feelings and notions, not focusing too long on any one thing as Tommy dives off a cliff. Sneeg jumps after him.

A smile pulls at the corner of his lips as he watches the boy manage to pull up just short of slamming face-first into the ground. He can tell by the pained grimace that Tommy didn’t escape completely unscathed. It’s a close game of chicken, and his leg still somehow manages to catch the edge of the stone face. Sneeg’s smaller, scaled wings are less cumbersome than Tommy’s heavier white feathers. It takes a few more beats than Tommy to pull up, but he manages to slip out of the dive without issue. There’s a distant pop of rockets, and in an instant, the two are spiraling past in a rush of wind and laughter. Phil barely has enough time to grab his hat before the breeze left in their wake can send it flying. 

He laughs, leaning back against his elbows in the grass to keep watching the display above him. There really is a grace inherent to the act of flying. Whether it’s the more energetic burst of Sneeg’s moth wings or the slower, more powerful sweep of Tommy’s. The action of arcing and spiraling, diving and swooping, twirling across the sky with freedom unbound by gravity. It was like watching two people dance. Different dances with differing skill levels, but still a dance. 

Phil supposed his own pair of wings were more like Tommy’s, but only to the extent that the two of them had been born with feathers in this world. Sneeg was far more skilled than the young boy, but even the inchling knew that his skill paled in comparison to Phil’s. Phil probably wasn’t the best flier out there, but he was the best on this server. And he could hold his own pretty well in the other worlds he visited. 

There was so much to do. That creeper had nearly blasted a hole in his wall. How had it even gotten that close? He must have accidentally removed a torch or something. Whatever it was, that would have to get fixed along with his base. The rocket went off in his hand. He was vaguely aware of the shift in his feathers as a few fell loose. “Hmm?” What’s that? Mend my shit? I’ve got time, Chat. I’ll take care of that when I get back.”

The sun felt pleasantly warm against his wings. It flickered off the sides of his feathers in oily blue-green sheens as they spilled out behind him. Subtle violet glimmers of enchantments ebbed and flowed along their soft edges. The ground they were sprawled across was pleasantly cool in comparison. He relished in the feel of the differences in temperature, the breeze that washed over and ruffled his tertiaries near his shoulders, and the phantom sensations of powerful wingbeats he felt precariously as he watched Tommy’s flight. Despite himself, he could feel his own white-flecked wingtips twitch impatiently. 

They were beautiful, and so very him. Black feathers were usually how he preferred to keep his wings. Phil had swapped out designs for wings in other worlds. Sometimes he left the set as a simple black leather elytra. Once or twice he had tweaked the design so that the fall of the wings blended into the folds of his robe. There had even been a time when he had hand-crafted linings and frameworks from spare bits of netherite too small to be made into armor. But here, in this server where he was born as an elytrian, the world had settled onto the design that seemed to suit him the most. The style he always rounded back to, like coming back home after a long journey. A style choice that was reinforced by his past as much as his past reinforced the choice.

There had been a time when Phil had rained down terror from the skies. A mighty force to be reckoned with across the Earth. Bringing death and destruction across the continents on wings fortified against blizzards and frost. Feathers were a great insulator. They can be laid in a repeating pattern. And were available for easy maintenance and replacement if necessary. Not to mention that they are quite literally made for flight. Back then, the choice to use feathers was one made more due to convenience than fashion, but he did end up liking the ring of the nickname people gave him after the shadow of his wings crossed their path. “Angel of Death” had a nice ring to it. 

Marrying someone whom many people consider to be death incarnate only made the label a little more accurate. But he could play the Reaper. He would be the Angel. Phil didn’t care enough to bother with what others thought of him.

One of the flock managed to build enough speed to keep pace with Phil as they dove. Its wingtips nearly brushed his cheek as it tried to make itself seen. “You need to mend your sword and wings. They’re going to break,” the bird droned with a snap of its beak. Phil spared a glance at his gear and spat out a curse when he realized that Chat was right for once. The framework of his wings rattled, despite the easy glide. Loose feathers started streaming out behind him. The flock of birds broke into a panicked racket.

Snap!

Then came the crows. 

When the black wings’ design started to grow on Phil, he started fashioning his elytra in other worlds with similar designs. It was hard to say when the crows started watching him. When he first started noticing them, there would be one or two sitting on a branch overhead. Their beady black eyes followed him as he worked. When it was only those subtle few, Phil didn’t pay them much attention. A crow was just another set piece in the background that posed no real threat. 

But those birds must have found whatever he was doing pretty interesting. He would sometimes catch them cackling at something he said while speaking to himself. They were undeterred by the boring moments of placing torches and building walls. The more brave amongst them would hop up to him and tease him. Yank on his clothes when they thought he wasn’t looking or try to steal his tools.

Those crows must have liked him enough to tell their friends. Two or three crows quickly became half a dozen, a dozen, several dozen, hundreds!! There were so many crows. It had grown far beyond the typical size of a murder. They watched him. They flew with him on wings so much like his own. Some of them even spoke with him. When he fluffed his wings, they tented theirs, ready to take flight and follow him wherever he might go. Countless little birds that brought him shiny little gifts and saw something in him they admired. 

There were too many to keep track of, so he collectively called them Chat. They called him Crow Father. That title felt more like a joke to Phil, but the name had bled into nearly every other server he visited. How could it not when the flock followed him everywhere?

Even here, in this server, he could make out the little black shapes bobbing in the distance. The massive murder was hunkered down and sunning themselves, painting one side of the nearby hill in black. They kept close enough to keep an eye on him, watching for when his big wings stretched out to follow like baby birds sticking close to their mother. Seeing so many of them had stuck around was a bit of a relief if he was being honest. There has certainly been more teasing lately. He could shut that down easily, though. Most of them were rather sweet and understanding. They had grown on him too. In this server, with these wings and this origin, he really was the Crow Father.

“I’m surprised you’re not up there with them.”

Phil turned to see Techno climbing up to him. With one great leap, his friend landed a little over a meter away. He could feel the pound of Techno’s feet against the turf. “Hey, mate. Just spending a little time on the ground. I’m not really up for racing right now.”

He’s going to crash. The feathers are trailing out behind him, reminiscent of the smoke trail behind a plane. The cliff face is rushing up to meet him. Neither instinct nor skill will save him now. No water below. No way to turn. Not enough time. Did he remember to bring his bucket with him? There’s no way around it. No avoiding it. Everyone is watching…

Techno smirks. “Ah. So you’re sulking.”

His fingers slipped through the smooth feathers, expecting to catch roughly against scratchy lengths of gauze. Instead, he only felt silky smooth strands and sturdy shafts. No ingrained dirt or ragged edges. No bent secondaries or jagged edges of broken shafts.  It surprised him when his elbow brushed against the stretch of muscle above his radius bone and he didn’t feel the protest of fragile bones shattered beyond repair. 

All those years of taking his wings for granted. He had been foolish. Had let time go by without paying attention to every ding and scratch they accumulated. Every lost primary and ruffled secondary, racking up the separated barbules and leaving dust and debris to build up. He got so caught up in everything, he had forgotten to keep up with the bare minimum of maintenance. There was no mending now. No preening or cleaning would turn back time. 

“I just lost my whole hardcore world because I forgot to fix my shit,” Phil huffed. “Years worth of hard work, *poof* gone! Now I'm going to have to start from scratch. I think I have the right to sulk a little right now.”

Shuffling came from beside Phil as Techno worked his way closer to his side. A warm arm wrapped comfortingly around his shoulders and pulled him down against Techno’s shoulder. When Phil tried to pull away, his friend only held him tighter. It was honestly really nice.

“At least it wasn’t another child, am I right?”

It was a tired joke that had long overstayed its welcome. The joke that everyone made. Even so, it still got a chuckle from Phil. He blinked away the tears that were starting to burn at the corners of his eyes. “Sure, mate. Thank God for that.”

[askadelcatty]

- Ask Rules -

- No “Hi” / Hugs / Single word / etc asks. It doesn’t give me much to work with!If you’re stuck on what to ask, check out the hints page! - No NSFW asks. This is a SFW blog. If you send in anything NSFW, I will immediately delete it. - I don’t think I have to say it, but I will – If you’re weird at ALL towards any minors/children in the story, I’m going to block you outright. - I do my best to include characters in answers who asked a question in character - however, I may not have energy or may not be able to find a way to include them. - Add on: Because of the nature of the blog, I will only be able to include OCs from pokemonverse blogs. Humans in the pokemonverse can ask questions as well, but be aware that some characters, as they are all wild pokemon, may react differently to a trainer than to another pokemon. - Magic Anons are allowed, but I will dictate whether I do them and what length they will be! However, if you really want to see one, they will be accepted on Mundays for fun sometimes! - For those who are curious, askadelcatty follows the same universe rules as asklotusnmarshmallow (the 2nd blog) specfically!

- Other Rules -

- Blog is rated PG-13 for topics including but not limited to- Complex Family Dynamics, Violence, Blood, Profanity, Death, and more. Some of the heavier topics will take place in the past. I will always tag things accordingly – and if you need something in particular tagged, feel free to reach out and let me know. There will be a running list here! Current specific tags are: N/A (for now!) I personally enjoy having very morally neutral conflicts, so please don’t demonize any characters mentioned on the blog. There’s almost always another side to the story. However, do expect bad actions to have fair consequences.

- General FAQ -

- Who is the Mod / Mun? We are plural, and collectively use the name Nem! However, if you want to address us individually, the two parts who help run this blog are Whimsy (They / He / She) and Stella (They / She) If you wish to learn more about us as individuals, check out our carrds - Whimsy's Carrd | Stella's Carrd We are AuDHD and frequently use tone tags! We also deal with chronic pain, so sometimes we take (announced or unannounced) breaks during pain flare ups. These things combined means we're a little forgetful sometimes! If we have plans to do a collab or rp, please don't be afraid to give us a nudge if it's been a while. Other Blogs We Run:  - asklotusandmarshmallow, a light plot blog following a set of siblings, a sylveon and a togekiss, on their journey of self discovery. - ask--neon, a no plot all fun blog about a shiny umbreon and espeon fusion and their antics - Can I make an Almian Skitty / Delcatty / any other variants that will eventually come up on this blog? Absolutely, have fun with it! Tag us if you do make one :0 - I have a concern with the story / one of the characters / etc. Always feel free to reach out through an ask, DM, or asking for my discord so we can talk about it. We're always one for conflict resolution where we can if its a problem, or just talking it out and re-clarifying something that may have been misunderstood on either end.

[booksandwords]

When I See You Again by Daryl Banner

Read time: 3 Days Rating: 5/5 Stars

The Quote: There is in fact a fate worse than death. It’s being in love with someone who doesn’t love you back. — Beau Whitman

Warnings: From the author himself... "When I See You Again contains some potentially triggering subject matter, such as domestic abuse (note: abuse is implied, not described, and doesn’t involve the main characters directly), alcoholism, non-violent bullying, and infidelity (note: the actual act of infidelity isn’t directed toward the main characters, but does involve them). If any of these subjects disturb you, please practice self-discretion before reading."

It is hard to find books in this genre that feel somewhat original, this one does. While the overarching idea of a realistic relationship dynamic is not uncommon the way this is written with consistent five-year jumps is. Starting at 5 years old and effectively ending at 40. The plots are different in each of the chapters some are heavier than others but all create a complete image of Beau and Caleb's relationship. Beau and Caleb themselves are complex and so human. We get to see some of the pivotal moments that made them who they are as people and as a couple. The support characters are added as needed to both Beau and Caleb's circles and used well. No one is meaningless. There is more change to Caleb's circle than Beau, perfectly suiting their personalities. The is a lot of symbioses almost in the relationships. This is a book that focuses on human growth and timing. The idea that fate must be worked for and love takes work. Even if the lovers are clearly made for each other. Also the ripple effect your actions cause impacts, good and bad on other peoples lives. Actions have consequences, particularly poor actions but that fits Beau's behaviours.

The unanswered questions posed by each chapter are largely answered later in the book. When they aren't it is a natural flow, lost contact. Time is key here. Time is key to much of the plot of When I See You Again. When I See You Again is about the impact time and timing has on a relationship. The writing is intelligent. One thing you must remember in the early chapters the framing it is essentially being told by 30yo Beau and Caleb at that point. I really appreciated the styling of the epilogue and the information that can be revealed in such small bites through time.

Just some annotated quotes and a warning...

"It’s amazing sometimes, the intuition of children. How clearly they see the world for exactly what it is, unclouded by so-called adult intellect and knowhow. Is innocence, in its own way, a kind of purified truth?" — (Caleb Fletcher) This is such a wonderful line and full of truth.

“This isn’t you falling apart any more than it is a snake falling apart when it sheds its skin. You’re shedding off all the shit you don’t need anymore. This is just …” Beau found the words. “This is you becoming you.” — (Beau Whitman) Beau is fifteen when he says this. He always could cut through the bull***t more than anyone else in either of their worlds.

"Love is often a broken path, and it rarely makes sense, but in the end, does it really matter how two souls at last find each other?" — This line really doesn't belong to either of them. But it does become them.

“There’s a reason not everyone sticks around in life. It’s like sifting dirt for gold; eventually, the only ones who matter are the ones who stuck around.” — (Beau Whitman) I mean I think this may be a quote from somewhere I feel like I know it. But it's an objectively good line.

That’s who they still were a lifetime later: just two boys racing home through a storm—racing home to each other. — (Caleb Fletcher) These are the last lines and omg they are perfect.

I really recommend When I See You Again for something a little different. It will appeal to a particular kind of reader but it is ideal for that kind of reader. That writing is so readable and enjoyable. The characters have distinct voices, something authors don't always manage to do for the whole work. It uses characters well, tells a fantastic story, in a way that makes it readable. All leading to a satisfying conclusion.