#but then I remember all of this is temporary

[charliemwrites]

Part 12 SpecGru reader!!

No content warnings for this chapter.

You mull over your captain’s words in the hours before dinner. Sitting behind Nova in her temporary room, Doctor Who’s opening theme warbling from your laptop’s speakers. You gently work oil into her scalp, following the precise alleys formed by her braids.

It’s a soothing ritual, not just for her, but for you. An act of care for a woman who’s been so kind and patient with you. Who always stood her ground on your worst days, and never allowed herself to be goaded into a useless argument. She’s warm beneath your fingers, soft against your chest, the scent of coconut and cinnamon sweet in your nose.

Slowly, you begin to card through memories you put great care into neglecting.

The day you left the hospital, feeling more pathetic than you ever had in your life. A packet of care instructions folded over in one hand. You remember the way Gaz hadn’t quite looked you in the eye, mouth tight and regretful at the corners. Almost guilty. Even when he handed over a bag of fresh clothes, saying he was glad to see you on your feet.

Did you know then? Was there some twinge of foreshadowing in your gut? Did you hear a foreboding whisper in your mind, of how the following twenty-four hours would devolve?

Maybe you did or maybe hindsight is a liar.

What really stands out, even after all this time, is how betrayed you felt (still feel) when you reflect on that interaction with Gaz. That the best he offered was a weak warning that Ghost and Price were pissed off at you. The hurt that he didn’t even ask how you felt before disappearing for the rest of that awful day. You never saw him after your initial discharge, he might as well have borrowed his lieutenant’s namesake.

And then there was Johnny.

Soap, who made himself perfectly visible, if only to express how pissed off he was. He never bothered to ask how you were doing either – didn’t even seem relieved to see you conscious and in one piece. He was tight-jawed and tense; the few times he deigned to speak to you was clipped and terse.

When you finally left, you remember how your chest ached, knowing (intending) you’d never see his thousand-watt smile again. A fair few of your tears on that flight had been in self-deprecation for expecting anything but his total, unwavering loyalty to Simon. It stung that for all his crowing about being a team, looking out for each other, no one left behind – he couldn’t spare you a crumb of forgiveness for a mistake in the field.

Price and Ghost had almost made sense, really. But Gaz and Soap had been a peculiar sort of pain. Your fellow sergeants, who had made you feel welcome and comfortable in the beginning – who had been the bridge and buffer between you and your intimidating superiors. And maybe it wasn’t their fault that you never quite felt like you had a seat at their table, but they’d tried.

Still… at least you can look at them. You can’t imagine opening your mouth to face Price or Ghost and anything but acid pouring out.

“What’s on your mind, babes?”

You blink, palms automatically cradling Nova’s head as she tilts it back to peer at you. On autopilot, you dip down to kiss her forehead, then the gentle curve of her lips.

“Hmm?”

“Don’t get me wrong, the massage is nice,” she teases, “but you’ve gone over my whole head at least twice now.”

“Oh,” you intone, swiping your thumb behind her ear. “Just thinkin’ is all.”

“I can tell,” she giggles, “there’s practically smoke comin’ outta your ears.”

You grimace a bit, arms lowering down to circle her shoulders in a hug. She curls her clever, slender fingers around your forearm, tracing soft patterns with her blunt nails.

“Sorry, love,” you mumble, flicking your eyes to the screen. Realize you’ve only got a vague idea of what’s going on. “I’m being a bad date.”

“You’re not,” she insists, squeezing your wrist. “This s’all been a lot, yeah? I just don’ want you being on your own in there.”

She taps two fingers against your temple. You used to spend all your time alone in your own head. Not because it was safe – it wasn’t – but it was familiar. It took her and the rest of the team concerted effort to pry anything of value from you.

Now, you muster up an appreciative smile as you nuzzle into her hand.

“I’ve just been trying to decide…”

She pauses the show and wriggles to get a better look at your face, hums for you to continue.

“If I should try talking to the 141,” you continue. “Cap said I should consider it. See if we can put all that old shit to rest.”

“Do you want to put it to rest?”

“I should.”

“But do you want to?”

The question brings you up a bit short. Being mad is easy. You’ve been mad at them for so long, one step short of loathing, that you’ve settled into the feeling. Dug your heels in. It’s an easy way to put a stopper on all the complicated hurt lying beneath.

“I want to talk to them the same way I want to go to the dentist,” you muse.

She picks up what you aren’t saying.

“You don’t want to, but you know it’s healthier if you do.”

You grunt, still too proud to admit it outright.

“The wound closed over, but it never healed properly,” she says. “Maybe you’ve got to reset it, yeah?”

You sigh. “Yeah. Just not sure where to start.”

She shrugs. “Wherever you want to. Do it on your own terms. Only way you’ll be able to stomach them.”

You chuckle. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“’Course I am,” she chirps. “I’m used to navigating bad weather.”

You nip at her fingers, prompting a bright peel of laughter as she tries to squirm away. As you wrestle her back into your lap, your nerves soften and settle.

Even if you excise this wound, you know you won’t be left bleeding alone. Not ever again.

You haven’t come to any concrete decision after dinner. Not that anyone asks. Nova isn’t one to push and your captain has already said his piece. You haven’t told Nikto or Keegan about your dilemma yet, and you’re not sure if you will.

Nikto’s take on the situation isn’t obvious – though if you had to guess, it would be similar to Nova’s. But Keegan? You already know what his answer would be.

Of anyone in SpecGru, he had to work the hardest to earn even an iota of warmth from you. He reminded you too much of Ghost – and how could he not? The perpetual mask, the sharp one-liners. Gruff and closed off, frighteningly capable, and a crack shot with a sniper rifle to boot.

It used to take everything in you to pull your punches during spars. The rare instances that you would agree to eat with your new team were never if Keegan was present. And more than once, you walked into the rec room, saw his looming figure, and turned right back around.

The only time you could stand to look at him was during missions, but your captain was always sure to receive a killer glare if he paired the two of you together.

Keegan was your partner on the mission that changed things.

It had been a week straight of shit sleep and bad memories, sick on loneliness and anger. When boots hit the ground, you stormed right in, eager to prove to yourself (but really, to them) that you were valuable. Didn’t wait for Keegan, but that had never stopped him from keeping pace with you before.

You didn’t clear your corners, got sloppy and hasty.

Took two stab wounds before Keegan shot the hostile in the temple. When he tried to call the others, you demanded that he finish the mission first. Would have rather bled out than be the reason another mission failed.

The pain and blood loss dragged you under as soon as you choked out the demand.

Then, Keegan’s face was the first thing you saw in the hospital room. Not the mask, him.

Even with dirt and black paint smudging his face, you could see the dark, worried circles beneath his eyes. Could read regret in his angular jaw, relief in the slant of his scarred mouth. For the first time, you looked in his eyes and saw more than an echo of your former lieutenant.

You saw your teammate. The partner you’d left to fend for himself because you’d been handicapped by your own pride. You saw Keegan.

“Did you finish the mission?” you rasped.

He frowned, but your captain stepped forward. “He did – once we were there to stop the bleeding.”

You never saw Ghost in the weave of his mask again.

And soon after, Keegan was the first person you opened up to about the 141.

It was that very same week. You’d been sick on shame and embarrassment, using your injuries to nurse your wounded ego. Skipping meals in exchange for raiding your snack drawers and moping in your cot.

Keegan hadn’t made himself scarce after your discharge. None of your team had, really – but he’d made a point of checking on you. And lacking your usual sharpness, he hadn’t been deterred by your comparatively mild standoffishness either.

Which was how you found yourself stubbornly tucked into the corner of your cot one night, while Keegan sewed the holes in your shirt. He kept shooting you amused looks – probably because you hadn’t taken your eyes off him once. Half wondering why he was there, half waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“You gonna say something, or you just glare all night?” he drawled eventually.

You narrowed your eyes. “Do you plan to stay all night?”

He shrugged, but his eyes flicked to yours, the corner of his mouth ticking up. (No mask. He hadn’t worn one around you since the hospital. Not unless people outside your team were around.)

“If you’ll have me. Been meaning to get you caught up on the show we’ve been watching.”

You huffed, frustrated. “Why?”

He arched his brows at you, needle paused. “Because I like you, despite your best efforts.”

You stared, a little appalled, a little touched. Keegan just chuckled and went right back to mending your shirt. You drew your knees up tighter and hid your quivering mouth with your arms.

“Cap says your last team was shit to you,” he said into your sullen silence.

You scowled. He put a hand up as if in surrender.

“He hasn’t said more’n that, don’t worry,” he continued, “I’m just sayin’… I don’t take any of it personal. You’re a good teammate, I trust you with more than my six.”

Why, you wanted to demand, flabbergasted and all the guiltier because you knew you didn’t deserve it. Why did he trust you? Why was he so patient? Why was he there at all?

You sniffled, but he just kept talking.

“I want to return the favor, ya know? I’m not askin’ you to trust me after the mission, but you don’t gotta be on your own either.”

You were crying quietly by that point, face so hot that your tears felt cold, stomach aching from more than stab wounds. He finally looked up, saw how you were falling apart. But he didn’t shy away, didn’t close himself off. It wasn’t pity or sympathy that softened his eyes.

“The shit you and I carry, we’re not meant to do it alone, sweets.”

And what else could you do, but spill your sorry guts?

You remember the expression on his face when you got to the part about Ghost. Remember how tightly he held you on your cot, all the distance (emotional and physical) closed between you two. Remember waking up the next morning, Netflix still open on your laptop and flopped gracelessly over Keegan’s stomach like a childhood sleepover.

You couldn’t have iced him out again even if you wanted to, after that.

No, there’s no question what Keegan would tell you, if you asked about talking to the 141. He would say there’s no good reason to waste oxygen on a single one of them.

So, you don’t ask.

You climb into his lap in your temporary room that evening, peeling his mask up and off with slow hands. His eyes are already half-lidded, the corner of his mouth curved fondly. His hands spread across your thighs, warm and rough. The scar twisting across his left palm is sweetly familiar when he draws it along your skin.

“I’m going to try talking to the 141,” you admit.

His jaw twitches, eyes flickering. “Now why the hell would you do that?”

You sigh, curl your fingers into the brassy crop of hair he’s been growing out. He’s got a quick temper, and a habit of misplacing it when it’s been triggered by something out of his control. You don’t take it personally, you never have – it’s gratifying to see how much he cares.

“There’s no good reason to waste oxygen on a single one of ‘em,” he growls.

“There might be.”

He sits back, skeptical but waiting.

You continue, “I’ve got a lot of shit to say to them, and they seem eager to hear it.”

“Why give ‘em the satisfaction?” he asks.

“Maybe it’ll help with the nightmares.” That gives him pause. You draw your thumb soothingly across his temple – a bullet graze from saving your life. “We’ve got too much shit to carry, you and me. Unloading some of it is as good a reason as any.”

His hand drifts up your side, grazes the tattoo coiling down your arm. (The second you ever got – a big piece that took hours, Keegan never leaving your side. Nikto, Nova, and your captain periodically dropping in to provide snacks and water.)

He cups your jaw, guides your face down until your foreheads touch. You stay there, breathing him in. He smells like yours.

“What if they make it worse, huh?” His thumb caresses over your cheekbone the way it has a dozen times before, wiping away tears. “I’ll have to kill ‘em.”

You huff softly, amused. “Then kill ‘em. But I’m stronger than I was, Kee. There’s nothing they can weigh me down with that I can’t carry.”

“I know,” he whispers, tilting his chin to drop a sweet, aching kiss on your lips.

“Besides, I wouldn’t be carrying it alone anymore.”

His expression lightens, pride shining from his eyes. “Damn right.”

It’s nearly midnight when you wake from a light doze. Keegan is snoring softly, an arm and leg each hanging over the side of the bed. Your mouth is dry, but you realize it’s your stomach that woke you – pangs of hunger from picking at your dinner earlier. You need to eat.

Quiet and careful, you crawl out from beneath the sheets. Keegan is a heavy sleeper compared to the nearly supernatural senses of Nikto; he hardly stirs as you pad for the door. The hall lights are dim, but you only open it a crack to slip out.

The hall is quiet, no lights on beneath any of the other doors. You hope that means the rest of your team is sleeping peacefully. If you remember right, Nikto and Nova crawled in with your captain this evening. They’re all in good company if nightmares creep in; you pray Keegan doesn’t have any while you’re up.

Thankfully, the rec room is only two halls away. Light is spilling out as you turn the corner – there’s a sensor that shuts them off if no movement is detected for a while. Someone is either in there now or was recently. You half hope it’s the latter, but that doesn’t deter you from entering.

Your surprised to find Soap leaning against the kitchenette counter, a steaming mug in hand. His expression is flat, grim. Tired. You pause just inside the doorway.

“Might as well come in,” he says, voice low and rough. “I’ll clear out in a mo’.”

Even from where you’re standing, you can see that his cup is mostly full.

You exhale and shake your head. “Don’t have to.”

“How gracious,” he rasps, brows twitching like he wants to scowl. Like he can’t quite commit to being as bitter as he should be.

You’re too tired for your usual acid, as well. Just sigh and reach for the fridge door.

“Is that how you want this conversation to go?” you ask.

“Is this a conversation?” he replies.

You pluck out a yogurt cup. “It can be.”

He’s glaring into his coffee now, index finger tapping at the ceramic. Thinking. Or maybe just leashing all the things he wants to say but knows will drive you right back out.

“Why now?” he says finally.

You shrug. “Because I’m ready now.”

A tendon in his jaw twitches. “That’s not fair.”

A hot flicker of anger ignites in your chest. You tamp it down with a spoonful of yogurt, measuring out your words and tone.

“How do you reckon?” you inquire.

“You left,” he says. It’s been a while, but you can detect the hurt underlying the accusation. You suspect it’s something he’s wanted to say for a long time. “You left us behind.”

You click your teeth off your spoon, take a deep breath. It’s factually true. You are the one that left but—

“I wasn’t going to wait for you all to kick me out officially.”

He finally raises his eyes, a dark storm of emotion swirling within them.

“We wouldnae have.”

You tilt your head, cynicism in the flat line of your mouth. “Didn’t seem that way to me.”

“I ken you and Simon were—”

“Don’t.”

His mouth snaps shut, brows furrowed. You point at him with your spoon warningly but bite back the sharp remark on your tongue. Arguing isn’t the point here.

Settle instead to say, “Don’t speak for the others.”

There’s a beat of silence as he digests that, then finally nods. “Alright. Just you ‘n me then.”

You turn back to your yogurt, swipe up another spoonful as you reorganize your thoughts.

“I didn’t leave because of Ghost,” you begin. “Not entirely. I left because I was never part of the team. And what happened after that mission just… made it all very clear.”

Soap frowns, opens his mouth like he wants to deny it, but you hold up a finger to stop him. He takes a long sip of coffee and waits.

“You didn’t check on me at all. You weren’t there when I woke up. You never asked if I was okay,” you continue. “You were too busy being angry on Ghost’s behalf.”

“You almost got the both of you killed,” he argues.

“But you cared more about Ghost almost being hurt than the fact that I was,” you say. And dammit, you feel your sinuses burning, but your eyes stay blessedly dry. The anger disappears from his face all at once as realization sinks in. “I mattered to you less than Ghost.”

His hand tightens around his mug, knuckles blanching. “No. No, lass, tha’s no’… you were always… you survived.”

“I felt the worst I ever had in my life, but you didn’t care because I crossed the almighty Ghost,” you insist.

“I cared about you,” he denies.

“But not more than you did about Ghost.” You drag your gaze up to his. Even his eyes look a little wet now. “And that… that wasn’t enough for me.”

You suck in a shuddering breath, trying to loosen the tightness in your chest. Clear your throat once you feel the threatening prick of tears subside.

“I didn’t… it wasnae that,” he rasps. “I ken you think I’m full of shite, but ‘s true.”

You do think he’s full of shit. Maybe not on purpose, maybe he really does think he cared about you as much as Ghost, but you know better.

“I was just… so angry wi’ you,” he explains. “You could have died. Nearly got Simon killed, all because you thought you knew better.”

You exhale hard. “You’ve never made a bad call?” you challenge.

“It wasnae your call to make. You should have listened to Ghost. Instead, you—”

“I what?”

Your fingers tingle, numb. Can’t even feel the spoon, or the chill of the yogurt cup anymore.

“You disobeyed orders, it was so—”

“I didn’t.”

He stops. Stares. “What?”

You stare right back, “I didn’t disobey orders.”

First | Previous | TBC...

Masterlist

[jji-lee]

nipple piercings . pt.2

(MINORS DNI)

make sure to check out pt.1 !

not proof read i haven't slept excuse me pls , ot7 x reader , hyuckle , markren , nominsung , oral f receiving , fondling (everyone's fondling each other tbh) , inexperience jisung , tiny bit of breast play , formally requested here but everyone wanted a part 2 so hazzah ! , ur in the middle mark to ur left chenle to ur right, hyuck next to chenle, renjun standing behind you, nominsung all kneeling in front of u teehee...

if you had known that getting your nipples pierced was gonna land you in this situation you would've gotten them done sooner.

the air grew thick as the boys hovered around you, watching as jeno slowly pulled down your shorts. you felt your body heat up as your pink lace panties came into view, a damp spot evident from the prior ministrations. you heard haechan groan,

"shit baby, you always wear pretty panties to movie night? would've done this sooner if i knew."

you gasped lightly as you felt jeno reach forward to run his fingers against your core, feeling the wetness of your panties. he looked up, eyes soft and sweet.

"is this okay?"

you heard a snort from behind you, followed by a kiss to your jaw,

"jen, you're supposed to ask before you touch her."

you felt renjun's breath against your jaw,

"if you want to stop just tell us, tell me, okay?"

you nodded your head slowly, eyes landing on jeno urging him to continue. he quickly leaned forward, burying his nose against your panties,

"fuck i could smell you from all the way over there baby, i was getting impatient."

you brought your hands up to your face, embarrassed by his actions. you heard chenle whine next to you, reaching forward to push jeno's head back,

"don't do that unless we all get a turn, you're not the only one here, remember?"

you removed your hands from your face, turning to face chenle. a light blush painted his cheeks as his eyes met yours,

"not that i need a turn i'm just saying, you know, it's not fair."

you smiled at him as you brought your hands up to cup his face, leaning forward to plant a light kiss to his lips. he stared at you wide eyed, mouth slightly open, processing what just happened. you giggled as you glanced over at haechan, his expression the same as chenle's, he nodded slightly when your eyes met his.

"me too, me too, please."

he leaned towards you, hands on chenle's thighs to keep himself steady. chenle watched as your lips met haechan's, licking his lips as he saw your lips part, letting haechan's tongue roam your mouth. you backed away from hyuck, his lips plump and shiny, eyes heavy with lust. you watched as he turned to look at chenle, hands gently squeezing his thighs, before planting a quick peck on his lips. you watched as chenle leaned away, a confused look on his face. haechan rolled his eyes before reaching up to grab the back of his neck,

"don't be like that, acting like we haven't kissed before."

chenle chuckled before leaning back in. your eyes widened, renjun laughed behind you,

"those two will find any reason to make out, i swear."

your shock was temporary as you felt a pair of hands tug at your panties, jaemin had pushed jeno aside, wanting to see more of you.

he looked up at you as he pulled you panties down your legs, swallowing hard as his eyes landed on your glistening core,

"can't believe those losers wanna kiss each other when this pretty pussy is right here."

he smiled wide before leaning in, attaching his lips to your swollen clit. he moaned at the taste, hand reaching down to pull his cock free from his sweats. he tugged on his length as he tasted your juices, eyes squeezed shut as he savored the taste. you moaned as he brought his tongue down to prod at your entrance, free hand coming up to massage your clit,

"mm jaem 's too much, i'm not gonna last."

you felt the vibrations as he chuckled into your core, leaning back to grin at you, your juices shining against his lips and chin,

"sorry baby, you just taste too good. ji come here, taste this sweet pussy. remember no teeth okay?"

jaemin patted jisung's back as he scooted in between your legs, looking up at you with a nervous smile,

"he's just kidding, i know how to eat pussy."

mark scoffed next to you,

"you've never eaten pussy ji, don't lie to our girl like that."

jisung bit the inside of his cheek, embarrassed by his lack of experience. you reached down to run your fingers through his hair, slightly tugging at the roots to make him look at you,

"sungie it's okay, don't listen to them, go slow, i'll tell you what feels right, okay?"

jisung nodded quickly, a small smile on his lips as he scooted closer to you exposed core. his fingers reached forward to run along your slit, collecting your juices before landing on your swollen bud. you let out a light moan, encouraging him,

"yeah start right there, feels good ji."

chenle giggled next to you, turning hyuck's head so he'd face jisung,

"he finally found the clit!"

haechan laughed with him, making jisung pout up at you. you turned to glare at the pair, hand coming up to grab haechan's jaw,

"you donghyuck be quiet, you look better with your mouth busy."

you turned his head so he'd look at chenle,

"both of you find a way to be quiet or i swear, me and jisung will handle this privately."

renjun's pushed chenle's head towards hyuck's.

"shut up and keep making out, don't ruin this for us."

as they both locked lips again, jisung was now focused on trying to latch his mouth onto you. his index finger pressed down against your clit, helping him locate it as he brought his tongue past your folds. he moved his finger away as his tongue massaged your bud, lips coming to lightly suckle. you threw your head back against the couch, neck exposed for renjun to plant wet kisses on the skin.

"fuckk ji, right there, feels s' good baby, just like that."

your grip on his hair tightened as he pressed a finger against your entrance, your juices making it easy for him to slip in. you let out a long moan, eyes fluttering shut.

"damn jaem, looks like ji's doing a better job than you!"

jaemin rolled his eyes at jeno, reaching over to push his shoulder. jeno looked at his shoulder where jaemin had just touched him,

"dude did you just touch me with the same hand you were gripping your dick with?"

jaemin let out a silly laugh,

"don't act like you haven't touched my dick before just cause y/n's here, i bet our pretty princess likes the idea of us, you know, doing stuff."

your eyes shot open, as you looked down towards jaemin, a sly smirk on his face.

"do all you guys just touch each other when i'm not here?"

mark reached forward to massage your tits, careful not to hurt your fresh piercings, looking up at you as he nodded in confirmation,

"jun was the one that didn't want to invite you, we all wanted you to join."

renjun grabbed your hair pulling your head back to look at him. he placed a soft kiss on your lips,

"i did want you to join, i just didn't want to scare you away cause of these perverts."

mark reached behind the couch to grab at renjun's bulge making him hunch over, a moan slipping past his lips,

"yeah sure junnie, we're the perverts, acting like you haven't been hard all night watching hyuck and chenle make out."

renjun hissed as mark slipped his hand past the waist band of his sweats, cold fingers touching his hot length.

you looked back down at jisung who was now leaned back against to coffee table, jaemin planting kisses on his neck as jeno reached into his shirt, fingers lightly pinching his hard nipples. as you looked around at your male friends you only had one question,

why the hell would they not invite you sooner?

.

ahaha pt.3 ahaha or naw ahaha

[lovelyflora21]

I hate everyone else in the world (but you)

Summary: Drunk and in pain, Leon had an affinity for saying things he might not have meant to. Twice he did so. One was able to offer solace and comfort, the other the opposite. 

Pairing: Leon S Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Tags: TW! Alcohol abuse, slight mentions of PTSD, depression. Angst. Hurt. 

A/n: Hello! So this is my first attempt at writing again after such a long ass hiatus and break! This is also my very first (and hopefully not the last) attempt on writing a fic for Leon lol, this one’s gonna be a bit angsty! I wrote this with Vendetta!Leon and DI!Leon in mind, inspired by that one TikTok audio from Euphoria’s Rue and Jules’ scene and her infamous quote with TV Girl’s Not Allowed, playing in the background. 

Hopefully you guys will like this one as much as I like writing it! Enjoy!

Wc: 1.5k

I hate everyone else in the world but you…

Was what Leon had drunkenly told her once. So lost in his drunken stupor that he’d blurted out those words in a brief moment of vulnerability and honesty. He might’ve as well said those three words instead. But it was the truth, and Leon S Kennedy was no liar. He was never good with lies anyways, why try now? And in response, she simply gave him that God-forsaken half smile of hers. Leon remembered vividly, despite being shit-faced drunk, how she simply shook her head then helped him off the couch to clean up. 

I know. She whispered, more like to herself than to him. Then everything else after that was a blur. 

It was sort of a routine. After that particular nightmare of a mission, Leon would drown himself in endless bottles of Jack Daniels or whatever alcoholic beverage he could lay his hands on. He was pretty much banned from the local bar he’d frequented so often, and no for the record, it wasn’t because he’d start up unnecessary shit–no. It was because of how much he’d drunk; to the point that the bartenders and keepers made it a point that they were concerned with the amount of alcohol he’d swallow in one seating. 

Concerned. Leon finds it rather funny and ironic, in a way that; bars made money from selling alcohol to anyone who would be drinking them and yet here he was, getting banned all because they were concerned with him? He was a regular, he didn’t mind burning his money on alcohol! They should have been grateful! He was a regular, a paying one at that and he doesn’t start up shit! They were making money! And yet, he got banned anyway. 

In reality, concerned was an understatement…

So he figured, what the hell right? He’s just gonna find an alternative, buy some from the local bodega or some shit and get shit-faced drunk in the comforts of his somber and dark, shitty apartment. 

The apartment was fine before all this, decorated it minimalistically so he didn’t have too much stuff piling up and it wouldn’t be too much of a hassle for him to look after; but after the–after it happened, he just didn’t care enough to look after the damn place. Hell, he barely looked after himself. Leon was barely even showering. He’d shower once every two or three days, and didn't even care at all if people were giving him weird and funny looks for how disheveled he looked. Leon used to be pretty active and social, he would go for a light jog every morning before work or in the evenings after work, then shower and have dinner or maybe go on dates with her. But now? Now, his routine consisted of waking up in the middle of the day, eat whatever leftover was in the fridge, go back to sleep, wake up again then get so drunk he could barely remember anything then pass out on the couch then wake up with the worst hangover and repeat the same damned thing all over again. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat. 

It wasn’t helping him at all that the DSO was putting him on a temporary break too. He’d honestly much prefer to be sitting on his desk working on reports than rotting and wasting away like this. 

But then she caught wind of this. This revelation. That the great, brave and strong Leon S Kennedy; the renowned agent that helped rescue the President’s Daughter and formed the DSO, has now become lessened to that of a drunk alcoholic. So jaded and bitter with the loss of his–no, no, he became jaded after, after…after it happened. That he resorted to alcohol rather than face his issues head on. Rather than see a shrink and work on it.

So the first time she came back around, it wasn’t easy. To have her, his muse, his flower, the only innocent and untouched being in his life, sees him this messed up and broken. He lashed out at her at first, then he broke down. For the first time. For the first time in what felt like forever, he was finally able to cry. 

It’s okay, cry it out, let it all out. I’m here. Nothing’s gonna hurt you. I’m not letting you go. I got you. 

Then he looked into her eyes and said it. 

I hate everyone else in the world but you…

And the rest was history.

Then it was another new routine for him. She was always there, looking after him…looking after the place. Made sure he was eating, made sure he’d get cleaned up, made sure he was sleeping properly. 

But he still couldn’t get over his drinking problems. Not anytime soon it seems…

Other people would have already abandoned him by now. Said it was all in vain, said he’d destroy her before he could ever get better. But she, she never gave up on him. 

Until one night…

Leon had promised her, for a day, he wouldn’t touch anything that has alcohol in it and he’d finally go to therapy. It was paid and provided for by the DSO, as they should be. But he didn’t…

He never attended that one session (or the sessions before and after, she should’ve known better), instead that afternoon he went to the nearest bodega and got himself bottles of Jack Daniels. Then he went back home and got shit-faced drunk. Again. Like always. 

And when she came over later in the evening, after she got off work; she was furious. More disappointed than furious, really. To find out that he didn’t go to therapy and he was drunk.

Then it was some back and forth arguing and Leon said some things he didn’t mean to. 

Typical of a drunk, how typical of Leon.

See, the thing is, she was one to believe that; whatever came out from someone’s mouth whenever they were drunk meant that it was the raw and most unfiltered truth they wish they could’ve said out loud sober.

So when Leon said, “What is this now, you think you could nurse me back to the old Leon?! You thought out of all the people in this whole goddamn world, you could be the one to save me from being, from being this?! I tell you what sweetheart, you never cared about me, what you do have is a savior complex!” 

It had been even uncharacteristic of Leon to say those things. And out of all the people he knew, towards her, too. 

Cruel would be an understatement. 

Leon wished he had stopped at that. Wished he had stopped and apologized to her after, but nope. He didn’t. Instead, when he saw her tear-filled eyes and her pursed lips, he went and sprinkle some salt on her wound. 

“What now, you gonna cry and run away? Gonna cut me off too like how you cut off your other friends and exes? Right, you do. Because that’s what you always do! Run away and cut off everyone whoever said an ounce of truth to you, not wronged you–no, the truth!”

Then there was silence, save for his hard and heavy breathing that filled the space. 

Leon remembers and forgets a lot of things. This is one that he’d hate to remember and unable to forget.

He remembered the way she stepped back, looked into his eyes and said it. 

I hate you. 

Then she disappeared from his apartment and disappeared from his life as well, after making it clear that she was done.

He tried reaching out to her, that very same night. Then the days that followed after, the weeks after. After Colorado. After New York. 

She disappeared. Just like that. 

So Leon gave up on looking for her. 

And after a year, he thought he’d already forgotten about her completely. Thought he’d moved on.

He thought, after going to therapy, talking to his friends more and avoiding alcohol as much as possible; he’d finally move past that night. Move past her.

But it seemed he was wrong. 

So when Leon was strolling down the streets of San Francisco during his free time, before his supposed mission–and he thought he’d heard a familiar voice, he couldn’t help but to look towards the source of that angelic voice. Could it be…?

And there she was. Gorgeous as always. Beautiful and bright, warm like the morning’s first ray of sunshine. A basket of flowers and groceries hung on her elbow. 

So she did move away. That’d explain a lot. 

Leon’s body had a mind of its own, approaching her before he could even process everything. 

Hey there.

And suddenly everything came flooding back to him.

I hate everyone else in the world but you

But you, you who I’ve hurt so much more than anyone else in the world. 

You who didn’t deserve the pain I had inflicted upon you. It was unfair. And I am so so so sorry. Wish I could take it all back. You didn’t deserve it. And then there was silence between him and her. Two birds, once of the same feather; and now? Now on opposite ends.

[pookietsunoda]

Saw this post abt Alonso getting accidentally electrocuted and thinking he was 14 (as well as this tag on a reblog)

what if... the whole grid accidentally got struck by some deus ex machina non fatal zap that gave them temporary amnesia and they all became convinced they were 14 for a day? Here is what I think would happen:

First off, they're all so hyped about being F1 drivers and get excited about the dumbest shit (phone games, wheel guns, tire blankets)

Max and Charles fight each other over the Inchident

George is starstruck by the fact that Alex is an F1 racer (bc Alex was his karting hero growing up) but Alex didn't become friends with George until he was 15, so he has no idea who George is, which is Humiliating to fragile teenage George.

Half of them can't speak English fluently yet. Only the younger ones (Oscar, Franco, etc) know that google translate exists and they help massively in the linguistic problems.

Unclear whether or not Pierre and Esteban are besties or enemies, or both. They are one of those things, and they're insane about it because they're teenagers. Lance and Esteban are probably like Normal friends though.

Lewis is like "where tf is Nico" and finds adult Nico. Lewis is super pumped to hear that they both made it to F1, were teammates and won WDCs, Lewis is an F1 GOAT, and that Nico married his childhood crush. (Their life trajectories literally sound like what a kid imagines their future to be like.) And Nico is like "hey we actually had a falling out" and Lewis is like "that's crazy man, how would we stop being friends? You want some frosties?"

Immediate Spanish speaker clique between Fernando, Carlos, Checo, and Franco. They are shook that THE Fernando Alonso wants to be besties with them (especially Carlos since Fernando is his hero).

KMag and Hulk are probably friends since this is pre Suck My Balls and they're friends now so, their energies align I guess.

Being 14 year olds who find out they're rich and famous, they all want to escape into the real world and take joyrides in the expensive cars they own/ drink alcohol/ see strippers/ buy crazy stuff and their team staff is like OH NO WE CAN'T LET THEM ESCAPE (Thus ensues comedy gold of the team staff chasing kids who have the bodies of professional athletes around the track and trying to contain them)

If in Singapore, Yuki and Zhou manage to escape because they are 2 East Asians wearing designer and F1 merch and they blend in with the fans. (As a disguise, they swap team shirts and put on surgical masks and people are like "Is that Zhou Guanyu?" "Nah why would Zhou be wearing a Yuki shirt?") Word gets out in the drivers whatsapp that they escaped and they immediately get bombarded with requests for what to buy for the rest of the paddock. They cannot rly understand each other but Zhou can get around Sgp pretty easily bc a lot of people there speak Mandarin. He has to stop Yuki from breaking at least five Singaporean laws. They stuff themselves at hawker stands and have a great field trip but then get recognized and have to make an emergency getaway on a stolen electric scooter. They do get Lewis his Frosties.

Lewis doesn't know he's a vegan and almost ruins his reputation by being spotted by paparazzi eating Frosties with non vegan milk. Also gives himself a nasty stomachache.

Despite being told not to tell other people about the mass amnesia, Max and Lance both call their dads. Lawrence is like "My poor son! I will get the experts to look into this right away!" Jos is like "idc if you don't remember how to drive the car, you're gonna do it or I'll disown you." Daniel and Lando grab the phone and tell Jos he's a meanie and also was a shit F1 driver, then hang up.

George finds chewing gum at the bottom of someone's bag and starts spiraling, convinced that the Singaporean police are going to arrest and execute them all for possessing illegal items.

Lord of the Flies scenario where George and Oscar are trying to organize everyone to make sure they don't accidentally hurt themselves, whereas Lando, Fernando, KMag, Daniel, and a few others are just trying to have a good time and cause chaos. Bottas and Alex and a third group are just like quietly messing around in the back.

They come to a truce in order to organize a GPDA strike because they have been banned from leaving the track until they regain their memories. They barricade themselves in someone's garage and have a sleepover on the floor with lots of candy and games. Lewis finds a guitar and plays Wonderwall.

They wake up the next day extremely confused (but remembering everything) and race as normal LOL

[esmerulia-chantelle]

A/N: I remember seeing a picture of Azul as a doctor before. And then this hit me.

Notes: mentions of injuries/wounds, blood, fainting

🐙 Thinking about Azul who works as a doctor 🐙

Let's say Azul owns this clinic and works as a doctor there together with Jade and Floyd helping him as a nurse or some other staff. Then in comes you, new to the city and a fresh injury on your body from traveling.

It was the nearest clinic to you and you went to pay a visit to have your wounds treated. It wasn't anything major but the constant bleeding from the opening in your skin has you worried. You felt faint and the moment you stepped inside the clinic, you fainted.

When you came to, you opened your eyes to a white ceiling. You blinked your eyes a few times and remembered you went to the clinic. You slowly sat up with a groan and checked your body and realized the small injury was now bandaged. As you sighed in relief, you heard the sound of the door opening.

"You're finally awake."

You turned your head and saw a handsome man looking at you. He had fluffy white hair with a longer strand framing the left side of his face. He had piercing blue eyes behind his silver-rimmed glasses and a beauty mark resting on the left corner of his soft-looking lips. He donned a pressed button-up shirt and some slacks underneath the white coat. He was also wearing a pair of formal shoes as he stood tall, looking at you while holding onto a clipboard.

He closed the door and walks closer, taking a seat beside you.

"I'm Doctor Ashengrotto. How are you feeling, Mx. Y/N?"

"I'm fine. Thank you, doctor. Just feeling a bit weak... How did you find out about my name though?"

"Your passport was in your pocket and it fell out when you fainted. Rest assured. Your things are right over there." He points to your other side and you found your belongings there.

"Ahh! Thank you so much, doctor! I'm so sorry for the trouble."

"It was no trouble at all. After all, a doctor can't deny someone in need of care, right?" He flashed you a smile. "I'll call one of my nurses to get your vitals checked before we discharge you from the clinic."

As he left, you couldn't help but wonder more about Doctor Ashengrotto.

You later meet two medical staff who assisted you during your short stay in the clinic. They were twins named Jade and Floyd. Jade was calm and polite man who looked a bit mysterious, as if his eyes were always observing. Floyd was more energetic than him though you noticed his mood could shift from one to another. They were pleasant to be with though.

You finished with the things you needed to do at the clinic before leaving with your things, bags and a large suitcase in hand. You said your thanks and bid them goodbye, thinking that was it.

...ah, how wrong you were.

Because for some reason, you always keep bumping into Azul and his close companions. They were like this formidable trio in your eyes but you couldn't deny you enjoyed your company especially since you didn't know anyone in the city.

Doctor Ashengrotto, or Azul (as he insisted you call him that) or simply Zul (a nickname by you) who may have invited you to work for him in his clinic as his PA just so he could subtly spend more time with you.

Azul who has seen many injuries from accidents in life as a doctor and always acts cool and collected but when it comes to you, there's always that hint of panic and a deep-seated worry in his blue eyes when something bad happens.

Azul who invites you out to have dinner together with the twins but somehow ends up with just the two of you.

Azul who says you can stay with him for a while when you were having difficulties with the room you rented, saying it would make it easier to go to work since his home is just above the clinic and it's more convenient (so he could watch over and care for you).

You felt that you would be a bother but Azul insisted and said it was only temporary until he helps you find a new place. (Which he isn't really doing because now, he will get even MORE alone time with you when you move in with him.)

Azul who takes you with him to parties or events or gatherings and you're ALWAYS mistaken as his romantic partner. (Which he doesn't mind. And maybe you don't either.)

Azul will provide for you. He will care for you. He will spoil you and give you a life comfort. He'll do anything for you, just stay by his side.

Azul can't imagine the rest of his life without you anymore. He needs you to be his.

[hugejk]

2 years.

due to high demand part 2 !!!! feedback is also very much appreciated <3

cw: addiction mentioned, rehab

||_________________||

After getting settled into your temporary home, you fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. Being woken up to the bright orange sun. You get up. You still didn’t know what to do with yourself. I guess the comments were right. You really do need some professional help.

you just didn’t know where to start, rehab? therapy? checking yourself into a psych ward? You sit at the small work desk at the hotel, clicking the pen and scooting the small writing pad they provided. You assume the best place to start was the addiction problems. You go on your phone and look for places. You find the highest rated one, and call it.

“hi.uhm. i was just uhm… wondering if i can check in? like check myself into rehab.”

the man on the other line told you the process of checking yourself in. You had to go in person and stay there until they think you were better than you had started. This process might take a while. But you’re willing to do it.

You gather your things, planning what you were going to tell the lady downstairs,

“my flight got rescheduled for today.”

“my friend is back at their house i don’t need the room anymore.”

“my parents have a room for me at their place.”

heading out the room and towards the elevator. Spamming the down button to hurry and get to the place. You didn’t care to wear the disguise you had packed. Nobody would see you for a couple more months anyways. At least that’s what you thought.

as the doors opened up, you look up from your shoes and see two young men. One of them wearing a dark beard and the other…well he looks like a kid. Clean shaven face, big brown eyes, short brunette hair.

“that’s exactly what i- wait aren’t you y/n?”

the one with the dark beard said as he pointed at you.

fuck.

“…do you want a picture?…”

you couldn’t even deny it, people recognized you so much now that you can’t say no to pictures, or else people would think your a rude arrogant celeb. And them boom there goes the grammy nomination, the awards, the money. everything you had worked so hard for.

you were so stuck in your head that you didn’t realize he was as talking to the younger one.

“this is the singer i was telling you about just the other day! you know…the one you said was-“

he was cut off by the brunette slapping his arm, giving him the “don’t you dare” look.

“look, i don’t have the time for this, do you want something? i have to be somewhere.”

you didn’t mean to be rude, but you just wanted to be fixed already. You didn’t have time to stop and talk with these guys. You notice the small badge on their nike sweaters.

“oh sorry——you know our football club is sponsored by spotify? you could totally be this years sponsor.”

the beard said to you, side eyeing the brunette and wiggling his eyebrows. Something was up. You just didn’t care enough to ask.

“uhm.yeah. sure whatever.”

you weren’t even planning on making new music anytime soon. you brush it off and push the down button for the other elevator. You didn’t want to be anywhere near a person right now.

now that you were alone in the elevator, you started to wonder and replay how the beard and the brunette were acting. As you got downstairs to the lobby, your worst fear. A packed lobby with screaming people and more guys all wearing the same nike hoodie, that logo.

you make a pit stop at the bathrooms to put on your glasses and mask, there was no way you couldn’t get away from this one. You blend back into the crowd, asking the nearest person,

“what’s this all about?”

“do you live under a rock? this is the best football club of all time right in front of us! FC barcelona!”

that’s when it finally hit you, the logo seemed so familiar. You remember watching a few el classicos with your dad when you were little. How could you forget?

But you had more important things to do that day. You thanked the person who reminded you of the club and went on with your day. Walking with your head down and airpods in, you arrived to your new home for a few months.

you open the door and walk up to the front desk,

“uhm..hi. id like to check myself in..”

you say with your head down, feeing ashamed that you were asking for help. You could’ve done this on your own but here you are.

“okay! before we check you in we’re gonna have to have you fill these papers out, and i hope you know what your doing right now is brave and your in good hands.”

crazy. It’s like the lady behind the desk could read your unsure mind. Her words repeat and bounce around in your head. Taking the papers and taking a seat in the lobby. It was small, and empty.

You have no idea what’s to come but surely it’ll be the best for you.

||_____________________||

tags: @pabl0andm3 @spidybaby @htpssgavi @alexis1taylorr

[solar-sunnyside-up]

Hey, I’m sorry to dump this on ya but your blog gives me a lotta hope and I just wondered if you had anything to say to my current ails- I am but a very anxious teen and I am so scared. I see so many people talking of how the world “Will end in 2040” or how “damn the past was so much better because it was simpler” and I am lowkey starting to believe that. I’ve got a problem with romanticizing a past I wasn’t even a part of and I really don’t want to live in some awful dystopian future and I fear I’ve missed out on so much because of when I was born :( and how come no one can afford basic shit anymore? I don’t wanna have no money at all! I really would like to be happy in the future but with all the bullshit caused by social media and the lack of money it seems bleak. I’m sorry that this is such a negative ask but I am not doing so hot and was hoping you’d have an insight ? Don’t respond if you don’t wanna

Hey ya there sprout 🌱 it can be really tough out there!

Your feelings are valid, so valid in fact that those exact feelings are why Solarpunk as it currently exists is around! We've all been there!

Between the wages of the top 10% of ppl vs everyone else being greater then during the French revolution, the average citizen globally being worse off then when the great depression was happening, climate crisis after crisis, all while consuming endless bits of info both horrifying (ex Politics) and hopeful (ex Social Media activism) it's waaaay too much for anyone to bare alone! Much less constantly! That burden shouldn't be on any of us!! But since it is, I'm here to help at least lighten the load even if temporary.

The best thing to do when we feel like this is to stop. Find 5 minutes to be still. We are fight/flight/fawn creatures and we will only loop in our solutions without actual clear choices if we don't Chill Out. We're mammals our natural state is Chilling Out and Play.

Next, think about how cool the planet is and particularly how cool humans are?

How there's finger flutes on ceilings thousands of years old, smaller then average indicating that parents held their children up to draw on the ceilings.

Think about the invention of looms and spinning fibers! What other creature could do that? Think about the kids that could build Snowmans without aching fingers because of lovingly knit mittens.

We sing like whales do, like birds do, like wolves do, and we do it to share stories and ideas over food! It is the first things babies mimic! We have songs so old we no longer know their origin just that they came from love! We even have songs to herd cattle meaning music transcends just us but bleeds into our relationships with the planet!

That we have play behavior! Just like wolves and foxes and whales and octopus it is so built into our DNA to play its generally how we learn things! This ranges from agriculture (children tossing seeds around, blowing on dandelions!) To chores (parachute games > folding laundry, playing pretend > usually chores/job based) to hunting (tag! Hide and seek!)

Think about our interconnectiveness with the planet too, how we are guided by Honey guides to find abandoned hives to share in the spoils of bread and honey. How Sweetgrass needs us to flourish, how berries and nuts need us to spread across the land, how we fix other animals broken bones and beaks and help them return home when otherwise they wouldn't ever get home.

Now that you can remember we deserve to be here, that you deserve to be here. We can look at the current situation and bare it.

And we do that by doing small things. Jam out and listen to music while picking up litter on your block, go to a library and just hang out or research something you love, make seed Bombs and toss them I to abandoned lots, make silly cartoons. Whatever it is, it will be enough.

The weight of the world isn't ment for the individual no matter how much Capitalism and Elites will try and guilt you over their failures. That weight is ment for collective groups, but your job as a Person is to be happy where you can and to be kind so others can be happy. The last thing that I always keep in my heart is a quote from my fave author Ursula Le Guin:

Hang in there, a brighter tomorrow is gunna happen. I promise 🌻

[egrets-not-regrets]

After Stormbreaker: Little Bird, Problem Children

Of Fin and Feathers AU: In the aftermath of the incident with the Grey Knight, more bonds are formed. Rhitta and Addax are ready to cause problems, but Mara and Broug says "no".

Author's Note: Rhitta is the name of Escanor's giant axe from the Seven Deadly Sins anime. I thought it was fitting. :)

Ocean divider (c) @saradika-graphics

Tagged: @shadowfirecat , @kit-williams , @bleedingichorhearts , @barn-anon , @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@sleepyfan-blog, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @bispecsual , @ms--lobotomy , @whorety-k

@gra93fruit-blog, @i-am-a-dragon34, @felinisnoctis

It’s been a night since the wounded mers were brought to the gannet colony’s temporary roost to be stabilized and worked on by healers and apothecaries. Mara frowned. All this damage just from a single Grey Knight. The gannet elder rubbed the bridge of her nose to release some tension and stress. With Lana intensely bonded to this Grey Knight, it added a new complexity to this whole situation. It didn’t help that Lana got badly wounded in the process as well. 

Though it seems like the ones who took the brunt of the injuries were the mers who were chaos-aligned. She wondered if they were specifically targeted. Luckily, they were surprisingly not-too-difficult patients. For the most part. It did help that they were on bedrest and that both Osteron and Zariel, and the Alpha Legion brothers were there. Especially to deal with some of the more restless patients.

Her colony avoided the area where the mers were, being wary of the strange mers that arrived in their temporary roost. Only a select group of healer harpies and their assistants were assigned to assist the apothecaries and care for the injured. 

Mara walked around the healing ward checking in with her harpies and the patients. She passed by one area, hearing the restless World Eater mer loudly argue with the Iron Warrior captain. 

“We should pay blood for blood! Our battle will be legendary!”

“Let’s get that asshole!” A young voice popped up. That’s Rhitta. Oh no. 

“Don’t be daft! You are not going to fight the Grey Knight, Addax! Y’barely survived the last fight with him.”

“The little one agrees with me! He’s a threat—”

Ignoring the World Eater, the captain fixed Rhitta a dour, pointed look, “Child, don’t cause problems. It’s only out of courtesy to Addax that you’re staying here.” 

Mara decided to step in before the situation got out of hand, “I have to agree with Captain Broug, I cannot allow you to fight with the Grey Knight.” 

The chaos Iron Warrior mer shot her a relieved look and straightened his posture, reassured to have Mara’s support in agreement. 

Mara glared at the young harpy and scolded her, “Rhitta, before you get all bloodthirsty and vengeful on Claude and Jophiel’s behalf, remember that Lana’s life is tied with the Grey Knight’s. If he dies, she does as well.”

“Oh.” Rhitta’s feathers deflated at the reminder. 

The elder harpy was annoyed, she had no need to deal with more issues right now, let alone have another merAstartes fight on her claws, “Do not encourage more conflict unless you want your privilege to assist the healers here taken away.”

“She’s not leaving.” Addax growled loudly, scarred chest and tattered fins puffed out in a challenge. 

Broug tensed, ready to act should the Addax start going under the influence of his Nails. He had struck a somewhat strange friendship, no, more like a camaraderie with the World Eater, as both of them had fought together against loyalist forces and other warbands back in their time. Though both of them nearly ended each other when they met again in Ancient Terra with Addax having lost control due to the nails. 

Broug was generally indifferent towards the gannet harpies, he was however not interested in facing the wrath of the Alpha Legion brothers, Erriox and his scoutlings, and possibly the Grey Knight, should Lady Mara get injured. 

“Addax.” He said in a warning tone. 

The World Eater sat up, ignoring the complaints from his healing wounds, his large stature protectively blocking Rhitta from Mara’s view, “No, the little bird is not leaving. My nails have been quiet since she arrived. I can think… clearly right now.” he said. 

“Nails?” Mara asked, looking at Broug in question. 

The Iron Warrior Mer sighed; he did notice that Addax was less… reactive and less aggressive than usual ever since that little harpy came into their space. That was the reason why he even allowed her to stay. “Most World Eater mers from my time, like Addax here, have technology called the ‘Butcher’s Nails’ implanted in their brain. It increases their rage and aggression, making them more formidable on the battlefield.”

Mara heard what Broug left out of his explanation, putting two and two together between what both mers said. It seemed like these nails impair Addax’s other thought processes, which is concerning since aggression is the only thing that is left, making the World Eater a potential threat. Rhitta’s presence, however, took away or dampened the effect of the Butcher’s Nails in Addax’s head. That brought on another question, was Rhitta bonded to Addax? So far, the young one remained quiet, hidden behind the large World Eater mer. 

“Rhitta, dear?” 

“Yeah?”

“Do you feel a bond or magic connecting you to Addax?”

“I think so? Like he feels familiar? I feel safe and comfortable here even though he looks scary.” She became thoughtful and grinned, “but it’s also like I know he’s my partner and we’re gonna fight the world together and cause problems without fear!”

“Yes!” Addax matched her enthusiasm, feeling a surge of fierce pride towards the little harpy.  

Both Mara and Broug replied with a resounding “NO”.

It was disconcerting how there was no familiar biting of the nails deeper into his mind after his outburst. Addax palpated the implants on his skull curiously. This confirmed his suspicions about Rhitta’s presence. For the first time in a long long time, he could feel emotions: pride and amusement; without the pain of the nails’ influence. And all due to this harpy child’s presence. How ridiculous. A rough chuckle emitted from his throat and grew into a laugh, cracked and rough unaccustomed to being able to do so loudly and not quite as long previously. 

A small set of claws tapped on his arm, “Are you ok?” Rhitta asked worriedly. 

“Yes. Yes, I am.” Addax replied, eyes crinkled as he felt relief and something he dared to think is akin to hope. He gently patted Rhitta’s head, marveling at the softness of her crest feathers. Such softness and yet there was no building rage, no compulsion to rip and tear her apart. Rhitta’s resulting giggles made him feel an odd warmth bloom in his chest. Perhaps this was what a bond should feel like or at least how he understood from what the bonded battle brothers had explained. 

Mara’s expression softened as she watched the heartwarming interaction between Addax and Rhitta. She sighed, “Since Rhitta’s presence keeps away the nails’ effects from you, she is allowed to stay.” Rhitta was about to cheer when Mara continued sternly, “However, Addax, you are absolutely not allowed to fight ith the other mers, especially the Grey Knight. You should still be in bed rest while your injuries heal, not looking to pick fights with others.”

The World Eater mer was about to protest, but Broug’s immediate hiss of “shut it” silenced him. 

“Rhitta, since Addax needs to heal, you are not to encourage that behavior. Is that understood?” 

The young harpy gave a little dejected huff before replying, “Yes, Mara. I understand.”

“Good.” Satisfied by their response, the elder harpy turned to Broug, “Captain, would you mind keeping an eye on them? If you need assistance, the apothecaries and Zariel and his brothers are here to help. When Addax is better it will be worth testing how far Rhitta can go before the nails’ effect returns and we will need to discuss the logistics of how to make this work.”

“It’s not the first day, nor the last that I’ve minded that thick skull of his. It will likely be easier with his nails calmed. You have a point however, and I will keep that in mind.” the Iron Warrior mer chuckled. 

Mara gave him a small smile, “My thanks, captain.”

“Of course.”

[le-panda-chocovore]

My sense of gender identity is so weird... Like, the whole thing about being non-cis but not having a real strong appartenance to any gender is that :

I don't like it when people see me automatically as a girl

I happily identify and present myself as a girl any time.

I guess I just don't want them to speculate about my gender.

[grahamcore]

one of my favorite things about hannibal is that they went for it and did not hold back with will’s “villain arc” in season three. i mean just look at this transformation

it always feels like a massive let down when a narrative plays with the idea of letting the good guy go bad before inevitably reverting back to the status quo. let me see a bitch go crazy for once!! show me the character who’s been through hell and back finally snapping. the character who has only suffered as a result of doing the right thing choosing to be selfish for once. will going with hannibal in the end was wonderful for their love story of course, but i was equally thrilled to see will finally finding happiness, even if it was through morally irredeemable means

[juniemunie]

Found these old whiteboard drawings i made with my friends hehe

Anyways heres a not so memey one

[fromdarzaitoleeza]

Spring is here , the true beginning of the year , the season where my soul reborns and blooms .

I have made some progress in terms of the person I am becoming, truly in all my honesty all that i have done is to stop caring for everything that once used to matter , the less I care about anything in particular the less I am bothered and the happier i stay. And i really hope everyone here is doing well and I appreciate all the love that was sent.

The problem is I care a lot about everything and i don't even get the bare minimum in return and when i do get it it's too late, so much time has passed by then ,when it comes by then i do not want or need it because it's the not care that came out of love it came out of their guilts. And the longer i wait for it to come by -the more I learn why I don't need it anymore .

I am slowly learning to value myself ,trying to put myself in a position where I can agree that i too deserve all the good things and love even on the days when i have nothing to offer .

Idk guys I am just here to rant and to be stupid

Better late than never they say , I guess it's not too late for me either, I will start my life and live up to what I want & how I feel ,i don't have to care about anything else as long as I feel alive in my bones things will eventually flow, I will fall in love with myself little by little day after day.

I will choose myself instead of choosing others and I will fall in love with my solitude instead of bearing it with me , i don't care if I end up alone if I do end up all by myself I will be with someone who i know has a tendency not to give up .

Life is really short i just don't want to sit and watch it pass by , if I am lucky enough I will have 40 more springs to experience , I have clear boundaries and thoughts in my head now, eventually i will find peace through it I hope so.

Ramdan kareem to people who celebrate it here please remember gaza in your prayers and fastings

[randomfandom815]

and I wither underneath in this storm

[devllishy]

ok i have a question for the malevolent fandom if anyone's willing to answer: when did arthur get his memories back? cause if i remember correctly, in the first ep he doesn't even remember his name or who parker is until john tells him, but then a bit further in we get the whole thing about his daughter and i remember being so confused as to how he remembers her, cause i was under the impression he hadn't gotten his memories back yet??? like am i missing something?????

[seilon]

I wish I could tell every young person with a uterus (especially with bad cramps and/or dysphoria and/or depression, etc) that there is a decent chance they just straight up don’t need to live with that. don’t let the stigma surrounding contraceptives and the expectation that you should just ride it out and suffer win. for the love of god if there’s a chance you can lighten or even stop your period and it’s symptoms all-together, unless there’s a legit health concern, your doctor should at least make you aware of that option. I want every young person to know that “birth control” is not just for birth control and it has the potential to make your life infinitely easier to live. do not give in to anti-pill propaganda im serious

[wonder-worker]

Margaret of Anjou’s visit to Coventry [in 1456], which was part of her dower and that of her son, Edward of Lancaster, was much more elaborate. It essentially reasserted Lancastrian power. The presence of Henry and the infant Edward was recognised in the pageantry. The ceremonial route between the Bablake gate and the commercial centre was short, skirting the area controlled by the cathedral priory, but it made up for its brevity with no fewer than fourteen pageants. Since Coventry had an established cycle of mystery plays, there were presumably enough local resources and experience to mount an impressive display; but one John Wetherby was summoned from Leicester to compose verses and stage the scenes. As at Margaret’s coronation the iconography was elaborate, though it built upon earlier developments.

Starting at Bablake gate, next to the Trinity Guild church of St. Michael, Bablake, the party was welcomed with a Tree of Jesse, set up on the gate itself, with the prophets Isaiah and Jeremiah explaining the symbolism. Outside St. Michael’s church the party was greeted by Edward the Confessor and St. John the Evangelist; and proceeding to Smithford Street, they found on the conduit the four Cardinal Virtues—Righteousness (Justice?), Prudence, Temperance, and Fortitude. In Cross Cheaping wine flowed freely, as in London, and angels stood on the cross, censing Margaret as she passed. Beyond the cross was pitched a series of pageants, each displaying one of the Nine Worthies, who offered to serve Margaret. Finally, the queen was shown a pageant of her patron saint, Margaret, slaying the dragon [which 'turned out to be strictly an intercessor on the queen's behalf', as Helen Maurer points out].

The meanings here are complex and have been variously interpreted. An initial reading of the programme found a message of messianic kingship: the Jesse tree equating royal genealogy with that of Christ had been used at the welcome for Henry VI on his return from Paris in 1432. A more recent, feminist view is that the symbolism is essentially Marian, and to be associated with Margaret both as queen and mother of the heir rather than Henry himself. The theme is shared sovereignty, with Margaret equal to her husband and son. Ideal kingship was symbolised by the presence of Edward the Confessor, but Margaret was the person to whom the speeches were specifically addressed and she, not Henry, was seen as the saviour of the house of Lancaster. This reading tips the balance too far the other way: the tableau of Edward the Confessor and St. John was a direct reference to the legend of the Ring and the Pilgrim, one of Henry III’s favourite stories, which was illustrated in Westminster Abbey, several of his houses, and in manuscript. It symbolised royal largesse, and its message at Coventry would certainly have encompassed the reigning king. Again, the presence of allegorical figures, first used for Henry, seems to acknowledge his presence. Yet, while the message of the Coventry pageants was directed at contemporary events it emphasised Margaret’s motherhood and duties as queen; and it was expressed as a traditional spiritual journey from the Old Testament, via the incarnation represented by the cross, to the final triumph over evil, with the help of the Virgin, allegory, and the Worthies. The only true thematic innovation was the commentary by the prophets.

[...] The messages of the pageants firmly reminded the royal women of their place as mothers and mediators, honoured but subordinate. Yet, if passive, these young women were not without significance. It is clear from the pageantry of 1392 and 1426 in London and 1456 in Coventry that when a crisis needed to be resolved, the queen (or regent’s wife) was accorded extra recognition. Her duty as mediator—or the good aspect of a misdirected man—suddenly became more than a pious wish. At Coventry, Margaret of Anjou was even presented as the rock upon which the monarchy rested. [However,] a crisis had to be sensed in order to provoke such emphasis [...]."

-Nicola Coldstream, "Roles of Women in Late Medieval Civic Pageantry," "Reassessing the Roles of Women as 'Makers' of Medieval Art and Culture"