#deiforms story tag

[2uuno]

DEIFORMS CHAPTER ONE

The night that Elvis Haddison mysteriously disappeared on Lake Cusp, Sean McCarthy crashed his car into a mailbox, although he didn’t stop until he reached town.

This was for two reasons- first, he knew who owned the mailbox he’d just bowled over, and knew that his consequences would not be particularly merciful. Secondly, and more predominantly, because he was drunk, and a little sleep deprived, and really shouldn’t have been driving at all. He neither thought to pull over or think to check on the mailbox until he was long out of sight.

But once he was stopped, he stopped for real, stumbling out of the car and sitting on the sidewalk, staring up at the neon light for the local diner. After a few deep, shaky breaths, he fished his phone out of his pocket, squinting at the screen for a few good minutes, before finding what he needed.

The phone rang for only a few moments, before, with a click, it stopped.

Neither spoke for a moment, before Sean remembered who he was talking to, before he remembered that he would have to be the first to talk, and sighed. “Hey bro. How much to convince you to pick me up?”

“Twenty. You at the party still?” The voice, a dry, hoarse, smoker’s voice came through, the faint sound of keys being grabbed in the background.

“Nah, I left, I’m at Frost’s.”

“How the hell’d you get from Jean-Paul’s to Frost’s?”

“Drove.”

“You drove?!” There was a long, fruitful pause, before a huff. “Did you wreck your car?”

“No,” Sean said, before pausing, thinking, and shaking his head hard. “I ran over the Robyn family.”

“What?”

“Not the family. Their mailbox. I don’t know why I said the family,” He thought. “I’m kind of drunk.”

“Man, you’re a lightweight. I’ll be there in ten. You gonna need to pick up your car tomorrow?”

“We have school, don’t we?”

“You're 19 years old.”

“So…?”

A sort of huffed laugh, and the sound of an engine starting. “No, Sean, you don’t have school tomorrow.”

“Okay, then, no.”

“Yes, you do, or it’ll get towed.”

“Then why’d you ask?”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Bitch.”

The line went dead.

Sean stood up, stretching his arms over his head. The air was finally starting to cool off, and the hem of his t-shirt wasn’t quite enough to cover his stomach. He shuddered and lowered his arms.

Sean was, to put it simply, an odd looking young man. He was tall, easily six foot, and lanky, with pale pale skin and a buzzed head of bleach fried hair. His eyes were mismatched, one pupil perpetually dilated and surrounded by pale blue, the other surrounded by dark brown. His skin was covered in freckles, his face full of piercings. His clothes were all the wrong size, his shoes held together with duct tape. He looked like a Frankenstein’s monster of a man, all the wrong bits in the wrong places. The result was very nearly a positive one, but not quite.

A minivan pulled up.

Unlike Sean’s rattly old pickup truck, this one was a good deal newer, and in a much better condition. Some would even call it a nice car.

The passenger side window shuddered down, and Sean stumbled over, leaning his head in.

“Hey cutie. Need a ride?”

“I’m not supposed to get in strangers' cars,” Sean fired back, but reached through the window to unlock the door, climbing into the familiar car that he’d been climbing into for the past two years without a hesitation. “Sorry for waking you up.”

“You didn’t wake me up,” Diego Costello lied. “You feel alright?”

Sean shrugged, letting his head roll to the side while he gazed at his best friend.

He was short, and stout, with a mohawk of curls that were ever so slightly longer in the back than the top. His face was permanently scrunched in a scowl, almost a look of disgust. He had the saddest little goatee in an attempt to make his baby face any less of a baby face, and it didn’t quite work. The braces didn’t help.

“You smell like shit,” He said, finally, glancing at the rearview mirror. “Did someone throw up on you?”

“No,” Sean grumbled. “But Jesus Freak tried.”

“Kyrie?” Diego sounded nearly surprised. “Kyrie went to a party?”

“Yeah, and got drunk off his tits,” Sean picked at his cargo pants. “Think Lori drove him home.”

“Hm.”

Sean stared out the windshield. “Are you mad?”

“Mad at Kyrie? Why would I be, he’s 18, he’s a big boy-”

“Mad at me.”

The car was silent.

Sean groaned, letting his head hit the window with a hollow thunk.

This was a song and dance they’d done nearly every weekend for two years, up until about a month ago, when Sean had finally gotten his own truck. They both thought that would be it- the end of Sean’s pathetic dependence, the end of Diego having to haul his friend home.

“Why didn’t you call my sister?” Diego finally asked.

“What?” Sean scowled. “Why would I-?”

“She’s your girlfriend.”

“And you’re my best friend-”

“You don’t get it, do you,” Diego snapped, suddenly, stopping at a stop sign and twisting to look at Sean, look him in the eye. “She’s your girlfriend. You’re supposed to be her problem.”

Sean blinked at him, stupidly, before the words registered, and he clenched his jaw. “Yeah, well. Well… well-!”

Diego exhaled, hard, turning back to the road. “I didn’t mean… I don’t know, you’ve been avoiding me for this whole time-”

“-Have not-”

“You ditched me at lunch, Sean,” He cut him off. “You sit with her, and Dean, and that Robyn girl-”

“-Lillian, she’s actually really nice-”

“Sean.”

“Di,” Sean whined. “I didn’t mean to ditch you, I just… you and Miki and Lori… you’re cool, but you guys are… you’re just…”

“Not cool?”

“No, you’re-”

“-No, no, I get it,” Diego said, firmly, pulling up in front of Sean’s house- not going up the driveway, just stopping at the mailbox. “Don’t worry about it.”

“...Would you rather I had called Madi?”

Diego stared out the windshield for a moment, before sighing, looking around, eyes finally landing on Sean. “No. Maybe, I don’t know.”

Sean hissed out a breath through crooked teeth. “Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Monday.”

“Whenever.”

And he got out.

Neither said goodbye. Neither said I love you. Neither said anything they’d always said. Diego drove away and Sean walked up his driveway, and neither of them slept well that night.

Across town, the fog rolled across the Lake, and swallowed Elvis whole.

…

Sean didn’t dream very often.

When he did, they were vague, unclear, sort of blurry. Just the kind of thing where you get a sort of feeling when you wake up that something happened.

This started off like that- vague and blurry, but then, all of a sudden, like an image loading in all of a sudden, it all clicked. And he was standing in the road across from Frost’s Diner, staring down at a charred and blackened corpse. It wasn’t familiar- the lack of any distinguishing features kind of did that- but he recognized the hoodie.

It was him.

He looked up, and the town was on fire- but not regular fire: red flames that licked the sky. He could have sworn at some point he’d heard that red fire wasn’t supposed to be very hot, but here, it seemed almost to be suffocating, even hundreds of feet from him, nowhere near the place he stood.

He woke up the next morning to the familiar sound of his mother in the kitchen, arguing with someone. And, considering his father was out of town and his sister was hardly an arguer, there was really only one person it could be.

He managed to fight his way out of his covers without falling on his face, fighting his way down the hallway to the kitchen-slash-diningroom where his mother stood with her back to him, busy furiously scrubbing out a bowl while she bitched away to the only other person in the room.

“Hey Mama,” Sean said, his voice rough. “Hey Madi.”

Madison Costello, much like her twin brother, was far from tall or lanky. In fact, she was probably a good head shorter than Diego, and twice his weight. Her hair was trimmed short, her wiry glasses held to her face by a broad nose. She wore a sweater vest over a dress shirt, clean gray slacks and a cross necklace that Sean knew better than anyone was just for appearances.

“Sean, baby,” His mother turned around, a flash in her steely gray eyes. “It’s past noon. What were you doing up so late that you slept in so much?”

“And why isn’t your truck in the driveway?” Madi added, an almost playful smirk on her face.

“What?!”

“Uh, I went to a party. No drinking or anything, but it went a lot later than it was supposed to. I got a ride from Diego.”

Madi’s smile flickered, a questioning look replacing it. Sean’s mother didn’t notice, just clicking her tongue and turning back to the dishes. Sean raised an eyebrow at her, and she just shook her head.

‘We’ll talk later.’ She mouthed.

Feeling a little out of the loop, he nodded along. He often felt out of the loop around Madi, almost all the time. It wasn’t her fault, he thought, she simply was… quicker than him.

That was the thing about Madi. She thought of things before anyone else did, and then didn’t elaborate. She just assumed everyone else was having the same revelations she was having, and didn’t stop to consider that maybe they weren’t. Sean had known her about as long as he’d known Diego- which was nearly his whole life- but he wasn’t sure he’d ever had the same thought as she did at the same time she had.

He was just… behind.

When he’d first started hanging out with her and her friends, back when they got together a few months prior, he’d been sure that he’d be left out and confused and alone, but, inexplicably, he found her usual crowd was hardly any more put together than him.

Dean, for example, was a lanky kid who looked faintly like if some supermodel had gotten their face slammed into concrete a couple dozen times. He was attractive, in a very tragic, missing a front tooth, broken nose, sort of way. To boot, he had been a benchwarmer on the high school basketball team, where he spent a good amount of his time daydreaming about space ships.

His main claim to fame, however, was his girlfriend.

Lillian Robyn, like all Robyns, was absolutely drop dead gorgeous. The kind of gorgeous where you’re not sure if plastic surgery was involved. She’d been a pageant star in DC as a child, until her parents divorced and her dad remarried to the only lawyer in Rome, and they settled down in the only house in the neighborhood with a third story.

Neither of them were very cool. They hung out with Madi because she made them seem smarter, she hung out with them because they kept away any assholes. And they all hung out with Sean because he made them all look very smart and very hot in comparison, as far as he knew.

He did kind of miss his old friends sometimes- Diego and Miki and Lori and Kyrie- but this was better for him, he reminded himself. This was less likely to get him labeled a bad kid.

The second Madi managed to shoo him out of the kitchen, he knew he was in trouble, and yet he remained firmly excluded from anything resembling a loop as she hauled him down the hallway, to his bedroom, where she shut the door and turned on him.

“So, Diego gave you a ride home?”

“Yeah?” Sean sat on the bed. “He always does, what’s the problem?”

“The problem is,” Madi said, slowly, condescendingly. “I don’t want my boyfriend running around with a guy who’s known for stealing boyfriends.”

“'Steal boyfriends,'” He huffed. “He kissed Lars Milyama once. And that was before him and Elvis started going out-”

“That’s not the point,” Madi pouted. “You said when we started going out that you’d stop hanging out with them.”

“I though you didn’t have beef with him-”

“Besides, why wouldn’t you call me to drive you? You know I would have-”

“Because- because-” She stared at him, raising one eyebrow, and his voice gave out. “I don’t know.”

The butterflies that came with being in love sure felt an awful lot like a panic attack sometimes, he thought.

Luckily, Madi seemed to get the memo, and just sat beside him on the bed. "Sorry for grilling you, it's just…. I'm worried, you know? You've been going to a lot of parties, and driving home drunk-"

"I didn't drive drunk last night."

"I almost wish you had." She muttered, under her breath.

Secretly, he agreed, but he didn’t say anything. He wasn’t supposed to have heard that, anyways.

“Whatever,” She said, waving a hand. “You need to get dressed, we’re all going to hang out at the park, and you need to at least be wearing something clean.”

By the time he was dressed, he was already wishing he’d pretended his headache was worse to get out of this, but it was far too late at this point. He was going to go to the park and he was going to have a good time whether he liked it or not.

Madi was sitting in her car by the time he got out there, scrolling through Insta on her phone. She glanced up absently when he got in, and for a second he thought she was going to say something about him taking too long and he braced himself, but instead she just snorted. “Your shirt’s on backwards.”

Embarrassed, he managed to twist it around until it sat correctly, buckling up as she pulled out of the driveway.

The park wasn’t really a park, just a field of grass between the highway and the local church, but that was pretty much the only place for people to hang out, and the church didn’t mind, so that was that. The only alternative, after all, was Walmart.

Pulling into the church parking lot, Madi’s phone rang. Before she could dismiss it, Sean glanced over and saw the caller ID.

“What’s Diego calling you for?”

“Hell if I know.”

“You should probably answer.”

She gave him a look and he shrunk back a bit. She declined the call and climbed out of the car, brushing her short curls from her face.

For a second he watched her walk away, trying to hype himself up enough to follow her.

He knew he was in love with her, but the near constant nausea of being around her was a bit much, he thought.

He got out of the car.

It’s not that Sean didn’t like his friends- or, god forbid- his girlfriend. He liked them just fine.

It’s just that they hadn’t known him nearly as long as his old friends had. They didn’t understand him.

Diego knew when he was getting quiet, that meant he was getting overwhelmed. Lori knew when he started fidgeting that that meant he wanted to say something. Miki knew when he huffed out air through his nose it meant he was ready to move on and do something else. Kyrie knew to put the volume in the car on even numbers because odd numbers made Sean uncomfortable.

These guys didn’t know that and, at the end of the day, he wasn’t really sure how to explain it either, so he just kind of went along with whatever they wanted.

He didn’t dislike them, is the point. He didn’t. He just wished sometimes that they knew him a little better.

Lillian looked up when he walked over, and lit up, perfect, pearly teeth shining at him from dark brown lined lips. “Hey big guy! How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been alright. Work’s been ass, but what’s new there?”

“Amen to that, buddy,” Dean said, where he was laying on his back, arm covering his face. “I didn’t realize how much I’d miss school until we graduated.”

Sean sighed, nodding.

The thing you need to understand is that Madi’s gang wasn’t popular. Definitely no more popular than Diego's gang. What they gained with Lillian, they lost with Madi herself, and Dean came in with his perfectly average reputation and demolished what minute bias of social standing they had.

And Sean… well, Sean wasn’t particularly popular, nor was he unpopular. People saw him, and recognized him from the hallways and the cafeteria of school, and said hi to him, carefully avoiding names lest they misremember.

He brought nothing to the group, beyond dating Madi, and having known Dean in elementary school when their teacher kept making jokes about their names rhyming (they didn’t if you pronounced them right) and being third or fourth cousins with Lillian.

He didn’t really belong.

But he sat down in the grass, and grabbed a soda from the cooler and cracked it open, taking a swig that was perfectly normal sized, and watching Madi pull out her phone to squint at the screen.

“Diego again?” He asked.

Dean lifted his head, squinting around.

Dean wasn’t very good at being a jock. He wasn’t very handsome after repeatedly getting his face smashed in by a ball and the floor, and he wasn’t mean enough. He also knew too much- just random facts no one knew or wanted to know, and he would happily chime in to any conversation to contribute. He wasn’t much help to the team in basketball games, but he was too good to kick, so he sat in a comfortable limbo of being too well liked by his teammates to be bullied but not well enough liked by his peers not to be. He had been adopted as a child- not from China like so many people seemed to think, but from Pennsylvania. He was half Korean and half Indonesian, but he always told people he was from Pittsburg when asked.

“Is he still calling you?” He asked, squinting in the bright light. “Maybe you should pick up-”

“No, I told you, he’s probably just calling to ask if he can have my leftovers.”

“You said he’s been calling since 6 in the morning, and he was out of the house when you woke up, that’s a little weird.”

“Wait, when did you say this?” Sean asked, blinking.

“The Snapchat groupchat?” Lillian said, before her jaw dropped. “Oh my god, we never added you-”

“-He doesn’t have Snapchat,” Madi said, irritably. “Because he doesn’t know how it works.”

“I don’t,” Sean shrugged weakly. “I don’t understand social media.”

“It’s fine,” Dean said. “I only got it so I can keep track of my teammates.”

“Creep.” Lillian nudged him with her shoe.

The two of them had been dating for a little over a year at this point, but they’d been going out on and off since seventh grade. It’s not like they’d ever broken up- not properly- they just… stopped dating every now and then. And then they got back together. And then they stopped. It was weird.

No one in Sean’s old group was dating. Kyrie and Lori had gone out on one date, back in freshman year, and kissed once, but that was it, and they all vowed not to bring it up. Now, it felt like everyone was a couple.

He kind of missed sitting around in Lori’s basement, bitching about teachers and eating cold pizza and sipping lukewarm soda because the Capsums didn’t believe in putting soda in the fridge.

But that was the past now.

Things were different.

During their last hangout, before he’d gone to the dark side, he’d warned them he wasn’t going to be eating lunch with them anymore, because Madi wanted to hang out with him more, and the way they all looked at him, disbelieving and incredulous, the way Kyrie laughed a little bit… it hurt.

It’d been a while- long enough that Sean thought that he was getting used to it. But maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he never would.

“Do you guys think,” Lillian started, taking a long sip of her drink. “That there’s such a thing as God?”

“What?” Dean asked, rolling over.

“I had a weird dream last night, and I think I believe in God, now. What do you guys think, though?”

Sean huffed, laying back on the grass.

That was one thing about this group- the conversations were weird.

Dean had only just started to get rolling with the more complicated details of his theology lecture when Sean’s phone rang.

“If it’s Diego, ignore it.” Madi said, calmly, from her perch atop the cooler.

It wasn’t. It was his little sister Genny, so he picked up.

“Hey Gen,” He said, taking another carefully measured sip. “What's up?”

“Elvis is gone,” She said, hollowly. “He went out on the lake, and now he's gone.”

Sean paused, glancing at the other three, who were still chatting away, as if something was supposed to have changed.

“What do you mean, gone?” He asked.

“He isn't here anymore. I don't know if he fell out of the boat or something, but he's not… we've been looking all morning, we can't find anything.”

“Did you call the cops?” He suggested, a sinking feeling in his chest. Lillian nudged Dean, finally taking notice of what was happening.

“Yeah, they're here, but they're not doing anything.” She said, a bitter scoff on her voice. “Can you come?”

“... I'm hanging out with my friends-”

“Fuck that,” She said, shakily. “My best friend is missing, you can come help me.”

Sean glanced at his friends, who were all watching curiously. “... We're on our way.”

[hermitcraft-8]

Deiforms, Chapter Two: Bullrush (Part Two)

masterpost

To be completely honest, Sean was kind of hoping he'd wake up in a hospital, with his mother holding his hand and weeping, a vase of flowers beside his bed. He'd flutter his eyelashes open, press a hand to his head and say "how long was I out?" just like in all the movies.

Instead, he opened his eyes to the back of Madi's car.

It was on, a low hum buzzing through his body from the engine, Terrible Lie by Nine Inch Nails quietly playing through the radio, which seemed like a strange choice for setting. He was leaned up against the window, the cool glass bliss against the left side of his face, which was throbbing. He lifted his gaze, finding himself to be sitting in the exact place they'd parked earlier, across the street from the Capsum house, and Madi, Dean and Lillian were standing around the hood of the car, arguing passionately about something.

No, that's not true. Madi was arguing, throwing around her hands, spitting and snarling, while Lillian rolled her eyes and Dean held up his hands in surrender.

Sean opened the car door and stepped out.

The argument stopped, but no one moved to help him, everyone just standing there, watching him.

"Your sister's coming to pick you up," Madi said, dryly. "You've got a cut on your face, but it's not bad enough that it'll need stitches, so they just put some bandages over it."

"You feeling alright, man?" Dean asked, gently.

"Yeah, I-" Sean frowned. "What happened?"

"Ash swung a knife at you," Madi said. "And then you fainted."

Sean had the feeling she was not happy about this. In fact, she seemed a little disgusted, or embarrassed. Like she usually was.

"It's okay," Lillian said. "It was scary."

"I thought he got your eye," Dean piped up. "I was so sure you'd go blind."

"No, I, uh-" Sean blinked. "I see just fine."

"Good."

Madi scoffed, running a hand through her hair.

"Where'd Ash go?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out. The second your head hit the deck, he, like, sprinted for the back door. The cops are still questioning Miki and his other friends," Dean said. "I don't know what they'll charge him with, but I heard them mention suspected arson."

"Of course he did it," Madi scoffed. "Who calls themselves Ash if they're not going to be an arsonist."

"But-" Sean shook his head. "Why would he set his best friend's house on fire? And how'd he get out? Lori said he was in the bathroom, and they couldn't open the door."

"He climbed out the window, obviously."

"The basement bathroom doesn't have windows."

Madi huffed, rolling her eyes. "I don't fucking know, Sean, it doesn't matter."

"It does-"

A car pulled up next to them. It was old, beat up, but it was clean. A pipe cleaner man hung from a little noose on the rear view mirror. And then it just sat there.

“Your ride is here,” Madi pointed out, dryly. “Goodbye.”

“Madi-”

“Goodbye.”

Genny and Sean were the kind of siblings who no one ever asked if they were siblings. They had the same nose, the same lips, the same freckles. They both wore clothes that didn’t fit- although while Sean wore mostly tees that were too small, all of Genny’s clothes were fashionably baggy. Genny didn’t have as many piercings as Sean- just a septum and her ear lobes, and her hair was down to her shoulders, but even then, she still looked so much like him that it was hard to refute their relationship as siblings.

She watched him get into the car, reaching over to pry at the bandaid on his cheek. He slapped her hand away and grunted.

“So… what happened?” She asked, putting the car into drive. She had a very particular way of driving where she got as close to the wheel as possible and peered upwards before moving the car. Sean never got it, but he never asked, either. It was just one of those things.

“They say Ash set the fire, and then he attacked me with a knife.”

“Wait, Ash did that to you?” She said, surprised. “Isn’t he, like, your bro?”

“Yeah, he was, like, my bro,” Sean sulked. “But he also attacked me with a knife.”

“And set a fire.”

“And… well, actually…?”

“You don’t think he did it?” Genny inquired. “Why not?”

“It’s Ash, man,” Sean shrugged. “I just… it doesn’t seem like him to risk everyone’s lives.”

“Maybe he just snapped?”

“Maybe,” Sean stared out the window. “I don’t know. Hey, can I tell you something weird?”

“What have you ever told me that wasn’t weird?”

“Genny.”

She exhaled through her nose. “Yeah, alright, what’s up?”

“When Ash attacked me, for a moment, I saw… I don’t know, myself? And he said some weird, cryptic shit, and then I woke up.”

“Did you hit your head?”

“I don’t think so.”

“The cut isn’t anywhere near big enough for it to have been a near death experience… maybe your consciousness is trying to tell you something?” She sounded shockingly serious. “Or a guardian angel? Or…”

They sat in silence for a bit before Sean registered that she was done talking and glanced at her. She was leaning back, her head tilted to the side as she stared at the road ahead.

“Or what?” He asked.

“No, it’s just, like…” She hissed out a breath. “I had a weird dream a couple nights ago where I talked to myself, and I thought it was, like, a holy premonition when I woke up, which is, like, weird, because-”

“We’re not religious.”

“Right.”

Sean sighed, letting his forehead rest against the window again. It was the wrong side, and did nothing for his burning face.

“This sucks.”

Genny hummed.

The Capsums lived sort of out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by woods, and the road to get back to town was winding and complicated, so Sean elected to let Genny focus while they made their way down the mountain, and just stare out the window.

“Did you hear that?” She asked abruptly.

“Hear what?”

“I just-” She shook her head, hard, like a wet dog. “Hold on, hold on-”

“Gen?”

“...It’s gone,” She said, frowning. “I don’t know what… whatever.”

“What was it?”

“I don’t… know how to describe it… I think it was just the AC or something.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah.”

They didn’t speak for the rest of the drive.

By the time they got home, it was early afternoon, and Sean’s stomach was starting to twist with hunger. He didn’t even make it to the kitchen before his mother swooped down, though, clucking and cooing and fretting over his eye while he tried hard to pull his head away.

“It’s fine, mom, I can see alright.”

“Oh, they should have given you stitches, oh-”

“Mom, it’s fine.”

He finally escaped to his room, hungry and defeated, feeling like today had been officially a god awful day. It was just starting to get late, the sun just licking at the horizon, and he gritted his teeth. He had school the next morning, of course, because that was just his luck.

He sunk into his bed with a groan, closing his eyes tight, trying to relax.

It worked for a bit, and he started to slip under, started to doze off, but his stomach felt tight and sharp, and his face was still killing him. He did his best to ignore it but it only worked for a few more minutes before he found himself pushing his body upright, slinging his legs over the side of the bed and groaning.

His body felt weirdly sore, as if he'd been laying there for ages longer than he had, but his room was still painted with dusk, so it couldn't have been that late.

He stood, running a hand through his hair and limping to the bathroom, shuffling through the medicine cabinet for painkillers. He finally found the bottle, pulling it out and shutting the cabinet. For a moment, he struggled with the lid.

And then something moved in the mirror.

His head snapped up, and it took a few seconds to understand what he was looking at.

His hair was long- past his shoulders, and brown. His bandages were gone, his cut leaking blood. His clothes were different, leaving him standing in a tank top and jeans. And strangest of all, his face was completely still, eyes peering at him calmly even as he wrinkled his own face in confusion.

It was all wrong.

“What the fuck,” He whispered, looking down. The reflection followed suit. Sure enough, long hair and a tank top splattered with blood. “What the fuck?”

“I told you,” His voice said, issuing from his mouth, just as it always did. “I wasn't a fan of the buzzcut.”

He jolted backwards, his head whipping around. “What the fuck, where are you?”

“You're the one talking to yourself,” He responded, amused. “But, if you really need something to gawk at-”

The reflection leaned forward. “-I can do that too.”

Sean slammed the door open, sprinting out, stumbling to the kitchen. His mom was gone, probably in bed already, but being in the large, well lit room was better than the cramped bathroom. For a second, he heaved breaths, looking around desperately. Nothing moved, nothing changed. His hair felt strange on his shoulders.

“I'm not sure what you were trying to accomplish with that,” His reflection in the window said. “There's a lot of shiny things in here.”

“Go away,” Sean begged it. “I don't know what you want, but I-”

“It's not what I want,” It said. “It's what I have to do.”

Sean's stomach plummeted. “What do you mean?”

“I have to make you a god.”

[fistsoflightning]

ABOUT FFXIVWRITE | FILLS TAG

total word count: 19567 words longest fill: cross (3175 words) shortest fill: confluence (253 words)

/playdead... ‘tis done! i finished 4 more fills than i did last year, iirc, which i am going to take as a w b/c the planets went gatorade like halfway through the month & almost took me out, which may explain the amount of wolcred i wrote this year lmao. i’d like to come back to a bunch of these & expand - the fills for tepid, attrition, deiform, vicissitudes, and fuse, mostly - so plfti in the hopefully near but probably distant future??

01. CROSS | perfect balance thancred/zaya | 2.2 | implied alcoholism cw | 3175 wc. zaya and thancred have a late-night spar.

02. BOLT | stardew fantasy tehra’ir & valdis | post 6.0, no-real-spoilers MSQ mention | 719 wc. tehra’ir and valdis are on the hunt for a thief. in their beachwear.

03. TEMPER | how hard could it be valdis & alisaie, minor lumelle/alisaie | nebulously 5.1 | 336 wc. alisaie tries to temper chocolate. valdis is just here for the show.

04. FREE DAY ✧ ASSIDUOUS | forge ahead zaya & a’dewah, minor thancred/zaya | 6.0 end of MSQ spoilers | 985 wc. a’dewah continues to pick up the pieces of his friends after every adventure.

06. ONEROUS | old burdens elidi-themis & atalanta | 6.0 4th area MSQ spoilers | 2353 wc. themis and atalanta, before and after the sundering.

07. PAWN | the best defense minor thancred/zaya | post 6.0 no spoilers | 630 wc. zaya helps thancred out on the checkered battlefield of chess.

08. TEPID | still anything i can do thancred/zaya | lightwarden bad-ish end AU | body horror cw | 1823 wc. thancred goes to visit the last lightwarden.

09. YAWN | the deed is done minor thancred/zaya | 6.0 post lv. 83 duty iykyk | 499 wc. there's something zaya needs to do before they sleep. thancred disagrees.

10. CHANNEL | home point zaya-centric | between 2.2 - 2.5 | 1057 wc. zaya hasn’t been able to attune since the calamity.

12. MISS THE BOAT | end of the world who? lunya & zaya | pre-endwalker/very first quest | 836 wc. there's no better time for fishing than the present, even if it makes you miss the boat to sharlayan to stop the apocalypse!

13. CONFLUENCE | testing in progress thancred/zaya | early 6.0 MSQ, pre 1st dungeon | 253 wc. good ol aetherial sickness strikes again. (6.0 thavnair branch spoilers)

14. ATTRITION | let it all be said thancred/zaya | 6.0 lv. 85 - 86 MSQ | 1582 wc. thancred and zaya have one last conversation before they’re a world apart (again).

16. DEIFORM | peripeteia hermes & “a visitor” | 6.0 lv. 87 MSQ spoilers | 387 wc. when a sneeze sends the chief overseer flying, a visitor is out to save the day.

17. NOVEL | stories told along the way haruki/a’dewah | post 6.0, no spoilers | 561 wc. a’dewah gets a delivery of novels in exchange for being mortally embarrassed.

19. TURN A BLIND EYE | the wind on high zaya & ardbert, zaya & g’raha | 5.0 lv. 88 - 89 MSQ | 804 wc. ardbert lends an ear to zaya’s troubles for lack of a way to not do that.

24. VICISSITUDES | bereft of hearth and home zaya-centric | 2.3 MSQ | 485 wc. the refugees outside ul’dah have it hard. zaya would know, having lived with them.

26. BREAK A LEG | walk forth thancred/zaya | post 6.0 MSQ | 389 wc. when zaya’s bedridden, the scions shouldn’t completely trust thancred to keep them from escaping.

27. HAIL | find your way zaya-centric, zaya & sadu | pre-calamity steppe, lv. 65 dungeon | 873 wc. zaya’s echo wakes seven years before the calamity.

29. FUSE | light up the dark zaya & g’raha | post 5.0, quest ‘for every child a star’ | 583 wc. g’raha recruits zaya to help with katliss’ fireworks show.

30. SOJOURN | wherever the wind blows thancred/zaya | nebulously post 6.0 | 1237 wc. thancred and zaya have a nice dinner at the quicksand before they set out on a new adventure.

[eyesofwater]

WRITER AESTHETICS.

bold what applies to your muse, italicize what relates.

JOHN KEATS.   the lavender in sunsets.   flowers in the rain.   sunlight slipping through clouds.   lazy summer afternoons.   the heavy scent of musk.   flickering candlelight reflecting off the gold titles of books.   fireflies on a cool summer night.   being wrapped in fresh bed sheets. the ache of wanting what you can never have.  dripping sunlight like gold.  loving someone so exquisite.   soft lips and soft whispers.   fingers through hair. names of lovers carved in trees.  broken glass.   the insistence of being perpetually dreamy.

F. SCOTT FITZGERALD.   mahogany wood.   crisp winter skies with cold bright stars.  the solitude of an early autumn morning wrapped in fog.   empty bottles on stacks and stacks of books haphazardly placed in a messy room.   pale bruised arms reaching out into the darkness.   cigarette smoke just barely hiding the scent of alcohol.   a wall of books all poetry and old and weathered.   a bad thunderstorm occurring at the end of a beautiful day. the way tragedy strikes in your heart but ends up stopping your breathing for a moment.  your favourite sweater.   parties spilling into four a.m. with the stars above spinning and dancing.   the contrast of blood against snow.   a purple split lip oozing blood.  black eyes fading to blue to pale skin.   the butterflies of falling in love for the first time.   the statues falling apart over time in cemeteries.   the romanticisation of self-destruction.

FRANZ KAFKA.   the weight of dread that sits heavily in your stomach when thinking about the future.   decrepit houses cloaked in mystery from children telling stories of people who died there.  the way not even light can escape a black hole.  the rich smell of old books.   delicate veins in the wrist.   ghosts filling lungs.   shattered bones.   raindrops on the tongue.  rusting metal.  nostalgia that aches.  the way hope feels like a plastic bag over your head.

H.P. LOVECRAFT. the anxiety felt when staring into an unknown cave.   pouring rain and mud.   a child’s fear of the dark.  thinking so many questions about your existence as you stare at the vast expanse of never ending ocean. the silence of three a.m.   danse macabre by camille saint-saens playing on a record in an empty house.   the possibility of aliens and the weird feeling it gives you that you can’t explain.   unexplainable phenomena,   strange lights in the sky in the dead of night.   ouija boards and urban legends.

JACK KEROUAC.   the brisk pine air of being on a mountain. travels without a destination. those nights where you’re missing three hours of memory.   screaming to a lifeless desert about how you’re so alive.   coffee shops late at night.   car rides at night spent speeding and laughing in the dark.   naps spent in the sun.   novels highlighted and underlined with notes and epiphanies in the margins.  the way uncertainty sits on the shoulders.  ignoring flaws and loving life.   wind through hair. depression as fog in the brain.  impossible ideals. a quiet sunrise.   walks alone.   when you think about trying to discover all the secrets to the universe.   dazzling people.   open lands stretching out into infinity.   falling in love with being alive.

EDGAR ALLAN POE.   the ocean’s horizon inseparable from fog.   hollow bones.   a preserved heart held in hands.   twinkling stars above an old graveyard.   the way everything turns to dust.   silent black birds with eyes full of wisdom.   self-inflicted flames.  perfection depicted as a rotting corpse.   death as bricks in the heart.   lips barely brushing against each other.   glassy glazed eyes.   biting into a lemon.   heart-shaped bruises.  rotting flowers on a grave.   dried blood and spilled liquor. the hush of dusk when it begins raining.   the intimacy of a secret.

tagged by.    @ciircumserpent and @oraflamme tagging.  @undinaes , @splitpaths , @deiforme, @gardenof , @arachnyd , @faulterd , @reapdeath, @edenfled , @lucifure

[existench-blog]

Repost, not reblog! Tag muns you would like to get to know better when done! Tagged by: @deiforme ! <3

Name: none of ur business (: Nickname: mojo, mojo jojo, jojo, jo, juevo, bonbon Age: 17 Pronouns: she / her and they / them Height: 5′ Birthday: august 13th Aesthetic: i have a board on pinterest for my aesthetic but uhh i like internet fashion and memes Last song you listened to: who dat boy by tyler the creator Favourite muse(s) you’ve written: my oc, wini ! they’re actually my first ever oc and i never expected to be so invested in them and create this ongoing story. i’ve put elements of myself and my life into them as a way to project, which is why i hold this muse so dear to my heart. What inspired you to take on your current muse (that you are posting this on): originally it was my fc as i thought she was an amazing person with such different and creative styles, but it was also the fact that i don’t think i ever saw anyone like myself who’s currently in poverty characterized like myself if that makes sense ishfdkjs i also wanted to create smth rlly creative and this is the most creative thing i’ve done in a while. What are your favourite aspects of your current muse: one of them is the psychological part. i’m very interested in psychology and humanity’s inevitable decline, and wanted to make something based on these ideas. i wanted to create something very different than what i’m used to. i also like how she can be unapologetically mean-- i’ve always played characters who were super kind. of course i don’t agree with her actions, but i wanted to step out of my comfort zone. i wanted to make a character that seemed ethereal, not-of-this-world or reality, an idea that really makes you think. i also love how when i start to write, i have to consider what wini’s actions would be because she knew nothing on how to be human whatsoever. Favourite types of threads: i love plotted threads and i also love one-liners! i love super emo threads where our muses either connect or our muses fight. i especially love ones where my muse and i discover your muses morals and their thoughts on humanity. it’s really fun for me. Biggest struggle in regards to your current muse: one is writing wini as one of the most powerful beings in whatever reality, because if i wrote her true to her Actual actual story she would be EXTREMELY overpowered since she was part of the unknown. because of how this site is, i felt the need to make her a lot weaker because no one likes overpowered females on this site (’: also getting wini to establish trust with other muses! it is possible. i’ve gotten comments saying wini is too aggressive to be around, which is true and i have worked on that. but she is also meant to be too aggressive as she is the result of the world’s negative influence. she copies what she is taught as she never had anyone to help her, no one to show her kindness, no one to guide her.

Tagging: uhhhh idk @misfortunte @silvaer @trigonkin @nightscaped @unseenson @veracitic and anyone else who would like to do this, i tag all of u

[rationalclover-blog]

TOP THREE INTELLIGENCES FOR YOUR MUSE:

LOGIC / MATH ( 5 / 5 )  :   Logic / Math — You enjoy exploring how things are related, and you like to understand how things work. You like mathematical concepts, puzzles and manipulative games. You are good at critical thinking.

NATURE ( 4  / 5 )  :   Naturalist —  You are sensitive to nature and environment. You probably know the names of rocks, flowers, birds, and trees. You love to be outdoors.

LANGUAGE ( 3.71 / 5 )  :  Linguistic — You enjoy enjoy saying, hearing, and seeing words. You like telling stories. You are motivated by books, records, dramas, opportunities for writing. Effective techniques of enhancing your learning using your language intelligence include reading aloud, especially plays and poetry. Another idea is to write down reflections on what you’ve read. You may also enjoy exploring and developing your love of words, i.e., meanings of words, origin of words and idioms, names. Use different kinds of dictionaries.

TAGGED BY:  @deiforme thank you, cutie!! ♥ TAGGING: @lamentis @desbearer @pxgtails @fearnyas @fukainoumi @hcngyu @hakureimaiden @blancowls & anyone else that wants to do this!

[hermitcraft-8]

Deiforms, Chapter One: The End of All Things (Part One)

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“All roads lead to Rome” is a stupid phrase. All roads don’t lead to Rome. In fact, very few roads do lead to Rome these days, only five major ones, which is about the same amount that leads to your average shopping mall.

To be honest, there’s more roads leading to Rome, West Virginia, and that’s not saying much.

There’s the main road, of course, a highway that rolled through the middle of the town, which carried most of the passerby through, on their way to Charleston, or DC, or further. There's Church Road, which is more of a street than a road, and Penelope Street, which is more of a road than a street. There’s also a good few other roads, smaller, coming through Altus or Snyder, that carry locals and people who know the area.

In total, there's seven roads that go through Rome, West Virginia, which is two more than the amount of roads that go through Rome, Italy.

It was on one of these roads that Sean O'Lainey crashed his car into a mailbox, late one September night, although he didn’t stop until he reached town.

This was for two reasons- first, he knew who owned the mailbox he’d just bowled over, and knew that his consequences would not be particularly merciful. Secondly, and more predominantly, because he was drunk, and a little sleep deprived, and really shouldn’t have been driving at all. He neither thought to pull over or think to check on the mailbox until he was long out of sight.

But once he was stopped, he stopped for real, stumbling out of the car and sitting on the sidewalk, staring up at the neon light for the local diner- the only one in town. After a few deep, shaky breaths, he fished his phone out of his pocket, squinting at the screen for a few good minutes, before finding what he needed.

The phone rang for only a few moments, before, with a click, it stopped.

Neither spoke for a moment, before Sean remembered who he was talking to, before he remembered that he would have to be the first to talk, and sighed. “Hey bro. How much to convince you to pick me up?”

“Twenty. You at the party still?” The voice, a dry, hoarse, smoker’s voice came through, the faint sound of keys being grabbed in the background.

“Nah, I left, I’m at Frost’s.”

“How the hell’d you get from Jean-Paul’s to Frost’s?”

“Drove.”

“You drove?!” There was a long, fruitful pause, before a huff. “Did you wreck your car?”

“No,” Sean said, before pausing, thinking, and shaking his head hard. “I ran over the Robyn family.”

“What?”

“Not the family. Their mailbox. I don’t know why I said the family,” He thought. “I’m kind of drunk.”

“Man, you’re a lightweight. I’ll be there in ten. You gonna need to pick up your car tomorrow?”

“We have school, don’t we?”

“It’s a Sunday.”

“So…?”

A sort of huffed laugh, and the sound of an engine starting. “No, Sean, we don’t have school tomorrow.”

“Okay, then, no.”

“Yes, you do, or it’ll get towed.”

“Then why’d you ask?”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Bitch.”

The line went dead.

Sean stood up, stretching his arms over his head. The air was finally starting to cool off, and the hem of his t-shirt wasn’t quite enough to cover his stomach. He shuddered and lowered his arms.

Sean was, to put it simply, an odd looking young man. He was tall, easily six foot, and lanky, with pale pale skin and a buzzed head of bleach fried hair. His eyes were mismatched, one pupil perpetually dilated and surrounded by pale blue, the other surrounded by dark brown. His skin was covered in freckles, his face full of piercings. His clothes were all the wrong size, his shoes held together with duct tape. He looked like a Frankenstein’s monster of a man, all the wrong bits in the wrong places, but the result was very nearly a positive one.

A car pulled up.

Unlike Sean’s rattly old pickup truck, this one was a good deal newer, and in a much better condition. Some would even call it a nice car.

The passenger side window shuddered down, and Sean stumbled over, leaning his head in.

“Hey cutie. Need a ride?”

“I’m not supposed to get in strangers' cars,” Sean fired back, but reached through the window to unlock the door, climbing into the familiar car that he’d been climbing into for the past two years without a hesitation. “Sorry for waking you up.”

“You didn’t wake me up,” Ash Costello lied. “You feel alright?”

Sean shrugged, letting his head roll to the side while he gazed at his best friend.

He was short, and stout, with a mohawk of curls that were ever so slightly longer in the back than the top. His face was permanently scrunched in a scowl, almost a look of disgust. He had the saddest little goatee in an attempt to make his baby face any less of a baby face, and it didn’t quite work. The braces didn’t help.

“You smell like shit,” He said, finally, glancing at the rearview mirror. “Did someone throw up on you?”

“No,” Sean grumbled. “But your cousin tried.”

“Kyrie?” Ash sounded nearly surprised. “Kyrie went to a party?”

“Yeah, and got drunk off his tits,” Sean picked at his cargo pants. “Think Lori drove him home.”

“Hm.”

Sean stared out the windshield. “Are you mad?”

“Mad at Kyrie? Why would I be, he’s 18, he’s a big boy-”

“Mad at me.”

The car was silent.

Sean groaned, letting his head hit the window with a hollow thunk.

This was a song and dance they’d done nearly every weekend for two years, up until about a month ago, when Sean had finally gotten his own truck. They both thought that would be it- the end of Sean’s pathetic dependence, the end of Ash having to haul his friend home.

“Why didn’t you call my sister?” Ash finally asked.

“What?” Sean scowled. “Why would I-?”

“She’s your girlfriend.”

“And you’re my best friend-”

“You don’t get it, do you,” Ash snapped, suddenly, stopping at a stop sign and twisting to look at Sean, look him in the eye. “She’s your girlfriend. You’re supposed to be her problem.”

Sean blinked at him, stupidly, before the words registered, and he clenched his jaw. “Yeah, well. Well… well-!”

Ash exhaled, hard, turning back to the road. “I didn’t mean… I don’t know, you’ve been avoiding me for this whole time-”

“-Have not-”

“You ditched me at lunch, Sean,” Ash cut him off. “You sit with her, and Dean, and that Robyn girl-”

“-Lillian, she’s actually really nice-”

“Sean.”

“Ash,” Sean whined. “I didn’t mean to ditch you, I just… you and Miki and Lori… you’re cool, but you guys are… you’re just…”

“Not cool?”

“No, you’re-”

“-No, no, I get it,” Ash said, firmly, pulling up in front of Sean’s house- not going up the driveway, just stopping at the mailbox. “Don’t worry about it.”

“...Would you rather I had called Madi?”

Ash stared out the windshield for a moment, before sighing, looking around, eyes finally landing on Sean. “No. Maybe, I don’t know.”

Sean hissed out a breath through crooked teeth. “Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Monday.”

“Whenever.”

And he got out.

Neither said goodbye. Neither said I love you. Neither said anything they’d always said. Ash drove away and Sean walked up his driveway, and neither of them slept well that night.

And somewhere in the world, an abacus clicked.

[hermitcraft-8]

Deiforms, Chapter One: The End of All Things (Part Three)

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It’s not that Sean didn’t like his friends- or, god forbid- his girlfriend. He liked them just fine.

It’s just that they hadn’t known him nearly as long as his old friends had. They didn’t understand him.

Ash knew when he was getting quiet, that meant he was getting overwhelmed. Lori knew when he started fidgeting that that meant he wanted to say something. Miki knew when he huffed out air through his nose it meant he was ready to move on and do something else. Kyrie knew to put the volume in the car on even numbers because odd numbers made Sean uncomfortable.

These guys didn’t know that and, at the end of the day, he wasn’t really sure how to explain it either, so he just kind of went along with whatever they wanted.

He didn’t dislike them, is the point. He didn’t. He just wished sometimes that they knew him a little better.

Lillian looked up when he walked over, and lit up, perfect, pearly teeth shining at him from dark brown lined lips. “Hey big guy! How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been alright. School’s been ass, but what’s new there?”

“Amen to that, big guy,” Dean said, where he was laying on his back, arm covering his face. “I didn’t realize how much I’d miss summer until it wasn’t summer anymore.”

Sean sighed, nodding.

The thing you need to understand is that Madi’s gang wasn’t popular. Definitely no more popular than Ash’s gang. What they gained with Lillian, they lost with Madi herself, and Dean came in with his perfectly average reputation and demolished what minute bias of social standing they had.

And Sean… well, Sean wasn’t particularly popular, nor was he unpopular. People saw him, and recognized him from class and the hallways and the cafeteria, and said hi to him, carefully avoiding names lest they misremember.

He brought nothing to the group, beyond dating Madi, and having known Dean in elementary school when their teacher kept making jokes about their names rhyming (they didn’t if you pronounced them right) and being third or fourth cousins with Lillian.

He didn’t really belong.

But he sat down in the grass, and grabbed a soda from the cooler and cracked it open, taking a swig that was perfectly normal sized, and watching Madi pull out her phone to squint at the screen.

“Ash again?” He asked.

Dean lifted his head, squinting around.

Dean wasn’t very good at being a jock. He wasn’t very handsome after repeatedly getting his face smashed in by a ball and the floor, and he wasn’t mean enough. He also knew too much- just random facts no one knew or wanted to know, and he would happily chime in to any conversation to contribute. He wasn’t much help to the team in basketball games, but he was too good to kick, so he sat in a comfortable limbo of being too well liked by his teammates to be bullied but not well enough liked by his peers not to be. He had been adopted as a child- not from China like so many people seemed to think, but from Pennsylvania. He was half Korean and half Indonesian, but he always told people he was from Pittsburg when asked.

“Is he still calling you?” He asked, squinting in the bright light. “Maybe you should pick up-”

“No, I told you, he’s probably just calling to ask if he can have my leftovers.”

“You said he’s been calling since 6 in the morning, and he was out of the house when you woke up, that’s a little weird.”

“Wait, when did you say this?” Sean asked, blinking.

“The Snapchat groupchat?” Lillian said, before her jaw dropped. “Oh my god, we never added you-”

“-He doesn’t have Snapchat,” Madi said, irritably. “Because he doesn’t know how it works.”

“I don’t,” Sean shrugged weakly. “I don’t understand social media.”

“It’s fine,” Dean said. “I only got it so I can keep track of my teammates.”

“Creep.” Lillian nudged him with her shoe.

The two of them had been dating for a little over a year at this point, but they’d been going out on and off since seventh grade. It’s not like they’d ever broken up- not properly- they just… stopped dating every now and then. And then they got back together. And then they stopped. It was weird.

No one in Sean’s old group was dating. Kyrie and Lori had gone out on one date, back in freshman year, and kissed once, but that was it, and they all vowed not to bring it up. Now, it felt like everyone was a couple.

He kind of missed sitting around in Lori’s basement, bitching about teachers and eating cold pizza and sipping lukewarm soda because the Capsums didn’t believe in putting soda in the fridge.

But that was the past now.

Things were different.

During their last hangout, before he’d gone to the dark side, he’d warned them he wasn’t going to be eating lunch with them anymore, because Madi wanted to hang out with him more, and the way they all looked at him, disbelieving and incredulous, the way Kyrie laughed a little bit… it hurt.

It’d been a while- long enough that Sean thought that he was getting used to it. But maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he never would.

“Do you guys think,” Lillian started, taking a long sip of her drink. “That there’s such a thing as God?”

“What?” Dean asked, rolling over.

“I had a weird dream last night, and I think I believe in God, now. What do you guys think, though?”

Sean huffed, laying back on the grass.

That was one thing about this group- the conversations were weird.

Dean had only just started to get rolling with the more complicated details of his theology lecture when Sean’s phone rang.

“If it’s Ash, ignore it.” Madi said, calmly, from her perch atop the cooler.

It wasn’t. It was Lori, so he picked up.

For just a second, everything was fine. Everything was perfectly alright and nothing was wrong. For just a moment, Dean was explaining monotheism to Lillian while Madi took a hit of her grape vape, and he sat there with his phone to his ear, and said “Hey, Lori, what’s up?” like it was any other call.

“Sean,” Lori said, their voice wrecked. Static wrenched the phone, and in the background, sirens could be heard. “Sean, something’s happened.”

Madi’s phone rang. She pulled it out, irritated, but upon seeing the name, she paused, before answering it, putting it up to her ear.

“What… what happened, Lori?” Sean asked, still staring at Madi, hunting for clues.

“There was a fire,” Lori said, as Madi’s eyes widened. “At my house. We were all inside, and-”

“Fuck,” Sean gasped out, suddenly feeling a horrible crushing weight on his chest. “Is everyone okay?”

Madi screamed, throwing the phone and collapsing to the ground in a little ball, covering her head and sobbing. Lillian and Dean rushed to her, reaching out to grab her, trying to pry her hands from her hair.

“Lori?” Sean asked, duly.

“Ash didn’t make it out.”

[hermitcraft-8]

Deiforms, Chapter One: The End of All Things (Part Two)

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Sean didn’t dream very often.

When he did, they were vague, unclear, sort of blurry. Just the kind of thing where you get a sort of feeling when you wake up that something happened.

This started off like that- vague and blurry, but then, all of a sudden, like an image loading in all of a sudden, it all clicked. And he was standing in the road across from Frost’s Diner, staring down at a charred and blackened corpse. It wasn’t familiar- the lack of any distinguishing features kind of did that- but he recognized the hoodie.

It was him.

He looked up, and the town was on fire- but not regular fire: red flames that licked the sky. He could have sworn at some point he’d heard that red fire wasn’t supposed to be very hot, but here, it seemed almost to be scalding hot, even hundreds of feet from him, even nowhere near the place he stood.

He woke up the next morning to the familiar sound of his mother in the kitchen, arguing with someone. And, considering his father was out of town and his sister was hardly an arguer, there was really only one person it could be.

He managed to fight his way out of his covers without falling on his face, fighting his way down the hallway to the kitchen-slash-diningroom where his mother stood with her back to him, busy furiously scrubbing out a bowl while she bitched away to the only other person in the room.

“Hey Mama,” Sean said, his voice rough. “Hey Madi.”

Madison Costello, much like her twin brother, was far from tall or lanky. In fact, she was probably a good head shorter than Ash, and twice his weight. Her hair was trimmed short, her wiry glasses held to her face by a broad nose. She wore a sweater vest over a dress shirt, clean gray slacks and a cross necklace that Sean knew better than anyone was just for appearances.

“Sean, baby,” His mother turned around, a flash in her steely gray eyes. “It’s past noon. What were you doing up so late that you slept in so much.”

“And why isn’t your truck in the driveway?” Madi added, an almost playful smirk on her face.

“What?!”

“Uh, I went to a party. No drinking or anything, but it went a lot later than it was supposed to. I got a ride from Ash.”

Madi’s smile flickered, a questioning look replacing it. Sean’s mother didn’t notice, just clicking her tongue and turning back to the dishes. Sean raised an eyebrow at her, and she just shook her head.

‘We’ll talk later.’ She mouthed.

Feeling a little out of the loop, he nodded along. He often felt out of the loop around Madi, almost all the time. It wasn’t her fault, he thought, she simply was… quicker than him.

That was the thing about Madi. She thought of things before anyone else did, and then didn’t elaborate. She just assumed everyone else was having the same revelations she was having, and didn’t stop to consider that maybe they weren’t. Sean had known her about as long as he’d known Ash- which was nearly his whole life- but he wasn’t sure he’d ever had the same thought as she did at the same time she had.

He was just… behind.

When he’d first started hanging out with her and her friends, back when they got together a few months prior, he’d been sure that he’d be left out and confused and alone, but, inexplicably, he found her usual crowd was hardly any more put together than him.

Dean, for example, was a lanky kid who looked faintly like if some Kpop star had gotten their face slammed into concrete a couple dozen times. He was attractive, in a very tragic, missing a front tooth, broken nose, sort of way. Too boot, he was a benchwarmer on the basketball team, where he spent a good amount of his time daydreaming about space ships.

His main claim to fame, however, was his girlfriend.

Lillian Robyn, like all Robyns, was absolutely drop dead gorgeous. The kind of gorgeous where you’re not sure if plastic surgery was involved. She’d been a pageant star in DC as a child, until her parents divorced and her dad remarried to the only lawyer in Rome, and they settled down in the only house in the neighborhood with a third story.

Neither of them were very intelligent. They hung out with Madi because she made them seem smarter, she hung out with them because they kept away any assholes. And they all hung out with Sean because he made them all look very smart and very hot in comparison, as far as he knew.

He did kind of miss his old friends sometimes- Ash and Miki and Lori and Kyrie- but this was better for him, he reminded himself. This was less likely to get him labeled a bad kid.

The second Madi managed to shoo him out of the kitchen, he knew he was in trouble, and yet he remained firmly excluded from anything resembling a loop as she hauled him down the hallway, to his bedroom, where she shut the door and turned on him.

“So, Ash gave you a ride home?”

“Yeah?” Sean sat on the bed. “He always does, what’s the problem?”

“The problem is,” Madi said, slowly, condescendingly. “I don’t want my boyfriend running around with a guy who’s known for stealing boyfriends.”

“'Steal boyfriends,'” He huffed. “He kissed Lars Milyama once. And he didn’t even know him and what’s-his-name were going out-”

“That’s not the point,” Madi pouted. “You said when we started going out that you’d stop hanging out with them.”

“I though you didn’t have beef with him-”

“Besides, why wouldn’t you call me to drive you? You know I would have-”

“Because- because-” She stared at him, raising one eyebrow, and his voice gave out. “I don’t know.”

The butterflies that came with being in love sure felt an awful lot like a panic attack sometimes, he thought.

Luckily, Madi seemed to get the memo, and just sat beside him on the bed. "Sorry for grilling you, it's just…. I'm worried, you know? You've been going to a lot of parties, and driving home drunk-"

"I didn't drive drunk last night."

"I almost wish you had." She muttered.

Secretly, he agreed, but he didn’t say anything. He wasn’t supposed to have heard that, anyways.

“Whatever,” She said, waving a hand. “You need to get dressed, we’re all going to hang out at the park, and you need to at least be wearing something clean.”

By the time he was dressed, he was already wishing he’d pretended his headache was worse to get out of this, but it was far too late at this point. He was going to go to the park and he was going to have a good time whether he liked it or not.

Madi was sitting in her car by the time he got out there, scrolling through Insta on her phone. She glanced up absently when he got in, and for a second he thought she was going to say something about him taking too long and he braced himself, but instead she just snorted. “Your shirt’s on backwards.”

Embarrassed, he managed to twist it around until it sat correctly, buckling up as she pulled out of the driveway.

The park wasn’t really a park, just a field of grass between the highway and the local church, but that was pretty much the only place for people to hang out, and the church didn’t mind, so that was that. The only alternative, after all, was Walmart.

Pulling into the church parking lot, Madi’s phone rang. Before she could dismiss it, Sean glanced over and saw the caller ID.

“What’s Ash calling you for?”

“Hell if I know.”

“You should probably answer.”

She gave him a look and he shrunk back a bit. She declined the call and climbed out of the car, brushing her short curls from her face.

For a second he watched her walk away, trying to hype himself up enough to follow her.

He knew he was in love with her, but the near constant nausea of being around her was a bit much, he thought.

He got out of the car.

[hermitcraft-8]

the fluffy ashean au fic thats longer than actual chapter parts

When Sean laughed really hard, he wrinkled his nose up and bared his front teeth like some sort of rabbit, and he held his hands up in front of his face like he was blocking blows that never came, and he curled his legs up and rolled around on whatever he was sitting on.

When Sean was bored, or thinking really hard, he tugged on his piercings. Sometimes his lip rings, and sometimes he'd pull on his anti-eyebrows if things were really difficult, but usually it was his ear lobe gauges.

When Sean was too cold, he hunched in on himself, and sucked on his teeth until they whistled. He would never ever ask for a jacket, but he would always eye whoever was nearby like he was waiting for them to offer.

And most of all, whenever he was talking to someone, he would copy them. Little things, like how he’d smack his teeth when talking to someone who smacked their teeth, or he’d fidget with his hair if you did, or roll his rs, or just smile more.

Madi never noticed.

Ash knew she never noticed because he knew how she ticked. He knew how she saw people. He knew she saw the freckles on his spine when he pulled off his shirt and never thought anything of them, or the little scars jaw from acne and shaving, or the divot in his skull that his buzz cut gave away. He knew she didn't notice.

For the first week that Sean and Madi dated, Ash hated that more than anything. Why was Sean with someone like her, someone who would never think the way he slept with his head tilted all the way back and his mouth just a little open was cute.

And then they broke up.

Ash was there. He saw the whole thing.

Personally, if Sean O’Lainey got really drunk and told him he had broken his heart and he didn’t want to remember their kisses, he’d probably never forgive himself, but Madi hadn’t seemed too rattled.

And then Sean was theirs again. They had him again, back in their midst, and everyone pretended not to notice when he called them the wrong names.

This, tonight, was their first hangout since the breakup, and Ash was starting to think he was the only one who was so nervous he thought he would throw up. It wasn’t a particularly classy event- Sean had to go shopping and the others all agreed to tag along for old times sake, but Ash felt absolutely ill.

“It’s not like he broke up with us,” Lori chuckled, watching him pace the parking spot again. “Come on, he’s been our friend since middle school- your friend since kindergarten. You’re fine.”

Ash snarled at them, wanting so badly to communicate what exactly made this such a cataclysmically important event, but not having any of the words necessary. It was important because it was Sean, and Sean was important.

And then Sean's truck pulled up. It gently nudged a stray shopping cart, and everyone winced, but Sean didn’t brake, just pushed onward, parking messily and slinging his door open.

“Thanks for finally showing up,” Kyrie called. “I was starting to think you’d died.”

“Sorry,” Sean called back, and the way he shoved his shoulders back was the same that Kyrie did. He was in mirror mode, just doing whatever everyone else did. “I lost my keys.”

“No worries,” Miki smiled. “Glad you could make it.”

Sean grinned a bit, slinging an arm around Lori’s shoulders, and Ash's neck suddenly felt very cold and empty.

The Rome Walmart was not very impressive, as far as Walmarts went. Every high schooler in town had worked there, it felt like, so it was impossible to go on dates there without everyone hearing about, but that’s where everyone went, anyways.

Not that this was a date.

Another cute thing about Sean: he hopped up on the back of the cart when he pushed it, leaning forward, and his t shirt that was just a bit too small rode up, revealing some of the freckles on his back, and the elastic of his boxers, and when Kyrie reached out to pull his shirt down, and he looked over his shoulder, he mouthed a thank you instead of saying it.

Ash really hated having a crush.

It didn’t seem worth it- best outcome was him dating his identical twin sister’s ex, worst outcome was him getting embarrassed and losing his best friend. There was no winning here.

So he very firmly kept his eyes off of Sean’s back-freckles.

And then the other three vanished. Miki wanted to check out the toy aisle to see if they had any new My Little Pony toys (she was turning 20 soon, he thought, in amusement) and the other two agreed to join her.

And it was just Sean and Ash.

Sean didn’t seem phased. In fact, he seemed to hardly notice their absence, just looking down at the list on his phone. “Okay, I need frozen waffles.”

And Ash had no choice but to wander behind him like a lost dog.

“Hey,” He said, fully unaware of where this was going. “Why did you break up with Madi?”

Sean turned, frowning. “What?”

“I-” Ash was regretting this immensely. Why did he even bring this up, why did he even open his stupid mouth? “Nevermind.”

Sean didn’t speak, just turned back to the cart and kept pushing it along. One of the wheels squeaked.

“You wanna know the truth?” Sean said, twisting his mouth a bit, chewing on his lip. “Like, the real actual truth?”

Ash huffed. “I mean, that’s why I asked.”

Sean’s thumb glided across the cart handle the same way Madi’s thumb moved when giving hugs. “I don’t know if I ever liked her. I was just scared to say no.”

“Oh,” Ash said, almost disappointed. “Okay, that’s fine-”

“No, I mean…” Sean paused, turning to look at him, narrowing his eyes at him like he was trying really hard to think. “That’s not it, I thought I liked her because- Ash. I don’t know what it’s like to like someone.”

Ash stared at him. “What, like- you’ve never liked anyone ever?”

“I…” Sean squinted. “Okay, I might have. Once. But I can’t really be sure-”

“Who?”

“I’m not telling you that.”

“Do they go to our school?”

“I’m not telling you that, either, man,” Sean exhaled, bumping his hips against Ash’s. “But… I don’t know, it’s probably not a real crush. Everything I’ve heard made it sound like I had a crush on Madi, but I was probably just scared of her.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, my stomach hurt, I got all sweaty around her, I had a nightmare about her dumping me-”

“Why were you scared of her, though?”

“I don’t know,” Sean shrugged. “She’s… I don’t know.”

Ash hummed.

Sean hummed back.

“Did you know you copy people?”

Sean winced. Ash wasn’t expecting that. A laugh, maybe, or a sheepish grin, or a shrug. He didn’t expect a wince.

“Sorry.”

“Sorry? What for?”

“Uh, I was hoping you didn’t notice,” Sean said, tiredly. “I kind of hoped no one would notice. I swear it’s not on purpose, when I catch myself doing it, I try to stop-”

“Wait, wait, wait, what am I missing,” Ash grabbed his sleeve, stopping him in his tracks. “Why are you trying to stop that.”

“I read somewhere that it’s a manipulation tactic,” Sean shrugged a little guiltily. “Like, a huge red flag.”

“I think it’s cute,” Ash said, almost defensively. “Like, hey, you’re paying enough attention to me to snap when you’re bored like I do.”

“I don’t-” Sean blinked. “Cute?”

Ash felt his insides freeze. This was literally his worst nightmare, and it was entirely his own fault. He let go of Sean’s sleeve. “Forget it.”

“Ash,” Sean said, weakly, but Ash was already walking away. “Ash, wait.”

Ash paused, sighing, and, not turning to face Sean, asked. “Are you coming?”

“Ash. Look at me,” Ash paused, before turning to face him. Sean scanned his face, carefully, lips thin. “You don’t call things cute, Ash. Especially not people.”

“Yeah.”

“You just called me cute.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Ash. Can you tell me this: do you like me?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Sean exhaled, tilting his head back. “This complicates things.”

“Yeah, no fucking kidding.”

“I can’t date you,” Sean said, rubbing his lip ring. “Because of Madi.”

“And because you don’t like me,” Ash muttered. “Don’t forget that.”

“I never said that,” Sean held up a finger. “I said I only liked one person.”

“And… and, what, that person just so happens to be me?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Okay, would Madi kill us is the thing-”

Ash was pulling out his phone before he could finish the sentence, shaking fingers hitting buttons he hardly recognized, until his phone was ringing. They both stood there, staring almost in surprise at the screen, until Madi’s face appeared, crooked glasses and all, illuminated by a computer screen.

“What?”

“Would you be mad if Sean and I started going out?”

She squinted at the screen. Sean waved.

“Are you stupid? You called me for that? I’m doing homework, Ash-”

“Answer the damn question.”

“No? Why would I give a shit?”

“I’m holding you to that.”

“Wh-”

Ash hung up, turning to Sean, who was blinking at him, rapidly, the same way that Miki did when she was surprised.

“So-”

“So.”

And then Ash started laughing. He wasn’t really sure what he was laughing at, but he was laughing.

And Sean, of course, laughed along.

[hermitcraft-8]

Deiforms, Chapter Two: Bullrush (Part One)

masterpost

By the time they arrived, the fire had been extinguished, and the firefighters had begun to comb the wreckage. Lori and their mothers were sitting off to one side, hugging, while Lori stared dully at the house. Miki was crouched in the back of an ambulance, her hand wrapped in bandages. When she saw Dean, she leapt down, stumbling over her feet until she had him in her arms. He choked on the smell of smoke, but hugged his sister back tight. Kyrie was on the phone, arguing with someone irritably.

And Ash was gone.

Sean couldn’t get that crushing feeling off of his chest, couldn’t get that burning weight off of him. He felt like he’d been in that building when it’d collapsed, and now he was trapped, too.

One of the police officers took notice of the four of them standing there dumbly and walked over, running a hand through his short graying hair. Sean knew this one- he’d been involved with The Incident. Luckily, he didn’t seem to recognize Sean at all.

“Hey, you kids can’t be here-”

“This is my friend’s house,” Sean said, and it sounded weak and lame, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “My friend lives here.”

“Your friend… is Lorinine Capsum?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that’s sad and all,” The officer sighed. He was tall and skinny. Ash could take him in a fight, probably. “But you’re not allowed any closer.”

“My brother was in there,” Madi said, her voice wrecked. This was the first she’d spoken since answering the phone thirty minutes ago. “He didn’t make it out.”

The cop paused, before shaking his head. “No, I’m sorry-”

There was a yell, from one of the firefighters and the cop turned to look, and on some strange instinct, Sean darted forward, racing past him. He felt Madi right behind him, and something told him that the others weren’t far behind. Out of his view, yet somehow completely clear to him, the cop warbled, lunging for his gun, before seemingly remembering that these were high school students running to search the wreckage of a friend's house for their other friend's body, and shooting at them was definitely the wrong move.

Sean felt odd. He felt like he could feel every movement everyone on the street made, could feel the pulse of every firefighter, the breath of every cop.

And he could feel Ash, laying unmoving in the basement.

He didn’t get inside. A firefighter grabbed him by the collar, and Madi by the arm, and Dean and Lillian both stopped on their own, Dean holding up his hands in surrender and stepping back quickly.

“What the hell are you four-”

“Ash,” Madi gasped. “Ash, oh my god.”

Sean glanced at her, expecting to find her crying or something, but instead, her eyes were wide, and dry, staring into the dusty interior of the house. The dusty interior of the house, and the young man standing there.

Sean had once told Ash in a fit of vulnerability late one night that the only thing he was really afraid of was losing a friend, and Ash had promised that he would never be the first to go. Now, staring at his best friend, Sean couldn’t help but feel that that promise had been exactly what had saved the man, in some strange holy intervention.

Ash looked… fine.

No, he looked better than fine- in the smokey, soot stained living room, he looked like an angel, his warm brown skin and white shirt perfectly shining, untouched, against the ravaged background.

He stared at the four of them, at Madi’s tear stained face and swollen eyes, and he snarled, a look of absolute disgust rending his face. And he began to advance.

The firefighter had the good sense to drop Sean and Madi and stumble off the porch, but neither of them moved. They just watched as he stomped up to them.

He didn’t touch them though, he just stopped.

“Move,” He snarled. “Now.”

“Ash, I thought you were-” Madi started. “- How did you-?”

“Don’t pretend to care,” He spat, quietly. “You never have before.”

“Wh-” Madi shook her head, bewildered, “Of course I do, you’re my brother-”

“Do you want to see god?” Ash asked Sean, and something about the way he said it made it seem less like a threat and more like a genuine question, like they were discussing evening plans. “Do you want to know the Truth?”

“Uh, no?”

Ash laughed, coldly, raising a hand, a glint of metal in his fist. “Sorry.”

Sean opened his eyes to white.

That was it, just pure blinding white, no horizon, no shadow. Just white. He didn’t have any difficulty seeing, didn’t have any urge to close his eyes. He just stood there, waiting.

“You’re here.” A voice said, neither masculine nor feminine, neither rough nor smooth, neither surprised nor resigned.

He was. He wasn’t sure where there was, or why he was there, or even really who he was, but he was, certainly, there.

“Don’t be dramatic. Turn around, I want to see your face.”

He did.

The thing standing behind him looked like him. It wore his hoodie, his jeans. It had the same bruises on its knuckles, had the same hair. The only difference was that it’s face was peeled. That wasn’t the right way to put it, wasn’t the correct phrasing, but it was all he could think of as he watched the way the flesh curled away from the center, the pure void that settled where its face should be.

And then, with a SHHHHWP, the face snapped back together, the seams disappearing, and it was just… him.

“Hey,” It said. “I don’t know if I’m a fan of the short hair.”

“What are you?”

“Call me Jack.”

“That didn’t answer my question.”

“Well hell, man, I don’t know what you want of me,” Jack said, and the way it moved his lips looked wrong. “Look, we probably don’t have much time. The Revolutionary just wanted to stall Her Majesty, the sooner we get this over with the better.”

“What the hell is happening,” Sean said, and he could suddenly smell blood. “What the fuck is going on, who- what are you, why is Ash alive-”

“Stop, please, saints above,” Jack rolled it’s- no, his eyes. “This is genuinely such a non-issue.”

“A non-issue?!” Sean practically shrieked. “What the fuck are you talking about?!”

Jack opened his mouth.

And then Sean lay on the porch of Lori’s house, blood flowing freely down his face, his forehead burning.

A paramedic shone a light desperately into each eye. “I think his left eye is damaged-”

“No shit, that kid stabbed him in the face!” The firefighter from earlier fretted. “What the hell was that?”

“Son, are you awake?”

He grimaced, squinting his eyes shut. He didn’t want to be awake for this, he decided.

And then he wasn’t.

[nerves-nebula]

hey u guys should read this. i listened to it while drawing and really enjoyed it.

[Deiforms Masterpost]

Chapter One: The End of All Things

ao3 link

...

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

...

Chapter Two: Bullrush

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

...

Chapter Three: The Complete and Total Collapse of an Atheist Society

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

...

More TBA

[hermitcraft-8]

the official 2.5 system fic recommendation list

empires smp fics

where we're at- an au where fwhip and jimmy are ranchers and exes, on a road trip to pick up a horse across the country. they're joined by sausage, joel and hermes, and later on oli. a story about finding yourself and forgiving others. and also autism

last man standing- a post season one joel fic, where he searches for his friends, and discovers their fates.

gets me stupid gets me drunk- a modern au where sausage and jimmy meet at a wedding sausage really wasn't invited to. fake dating ensues.

only a fool would fall for you (and oh baby am i stupid)- a canon compliant jausage fic where sausage gets injured and jimmy patches him up and they talk about love.

hermitcraft fics

payback- a jlethubs fic, about etho figuring out how to show affection to their partners in their own way.

milky way man- an alien au where joe is a human who accidentally got abducted by the hermits as they flew past earth.

resonant bell world- big eye crew centric superhero au. has several fics in the series.

somewhere in space- a post-season eight scifi fic about ren and doc hanging out in space.

lunar apocalypse- a story about the end of season eight. please read the tags on this one, it's very dark.

original work

deiforms- the story of some kids learning to be gods, and making the sacrifices that come with it.

the kent heritage- a story of generational trauma, and how to hurt those you love.

[existench-blog]

bold  what  applies  to  your  muse.

repost,  don’t  reblog ! TAGGED BY: @qdir ! TAGGING: @knytlie / @ellaguia, @deiforme / @variforme, @sanguire / @shegore, @jennifercheck / @dhampr, @techpaired / @quibungo, @webfluid / @redvigil, @reapermaiden, @flychild, @trigonkin, all the ethnic baddies and anyone who wants to do this !

to  die  by  your  side  is  such  a  heavenly  way  to  die.  |   under  a  bus,  with  my  fingers  crossed.   |    it  feels  like  nothing  matters  in  our  private  universe.    |   take  me,    i’m  yours.   |   i’ll  be  a  rock  and  rollin’  bitch  for  you.   |   you  want  the  real  story ?   you  shouldn’t  ask  me.  |   i’m  so  drunk,  i  don’t  mind  if  you  kill  me.   |   i  don’t  pretend  to  know  what  you  want,  but  i  offer  love.   |   you’re  so  mean,  baby !   |    he  will  have  his  way.    |    i’m  bored;    come  on,  let’s  get  high !   |   why  don’t  you  walk  away ?   |   where  i  go,    there’ll  be  no  kind  welcome.   |   into  temptation,  right  where  you  belong.    |    we’re  still  outsiders.   |    i  never  feel  pain,  won’t  you  hit  me  again ?   |   oh,  i  just  don’t  know  where  to  begin.   |    practically  all  is  nearly  forgiven.    |    black  words  slipping  off  my  tongue.    |    couldn’t  it  be  easy  to  believe ?   |   you  are  afraid  of  me;  that’s  why  you’re  so  unkind.   |   sinner;  i  have  never  learned.  |    desolate  in  anger  and  safe  in  isolation.   |   do  you  feel  the  pressure ?    |    i  wanna  be  forgiven.   |   spare  us  the  theatrics  and  the  verbal  gymnastics.    |   how  i  needed  you  when  i  needed  you.   |    history  has  been  cruel.   |   do  you  see  what  i  see ?   |   is  there  anybody  in  there ?    |    i’d  beg  for  some  forgiveness,  but  begging’s  not  my  business.    |    we  may  never  meet  again,  so  shed  your  skin  and  let’s  get  started.    |   every  day  i  love  you  less  and  less.   |    there’s  nothing  that  you  love  that  i’ll  ever  miss.

[existench-blog]

literature  quizzes. repost  with  your  muse’s  results  for  the  following  quizzes .

HOMERIC   EPITHET.   You are [UNKNOWN.], curse of men. Feel free to sign all your checks that way. This is the same epithet Homer attributed to Ares, the god of war. Ares was the lover of Aphrodite and basically everyone’s least favorite god. “Curse of men” he may be, but the ancient Greeks liked to tell stories that ended with him getting caught in nets and hit in the face with boulders, so.

FATAL   FLAW.   See, here’s the thing—someone sent that wild boar. It might have been Artemis, because she was jealous of your skill with a bow and arrow; it might have been Ares, who hated you; or it might have been Apollo, because your girlfriend blinded his son. There’s really no telling. You made enemies. This is just what happens when you’re too beautiful to even exist. Either way, you got mauled by a pig and are now dead, but you died in Aphrodite’s arms as she wept, so at least you've got that going for you.

GREEK   MYTHOLOGY   DEATH.   You’re blunt. You’re outspoken. Frankly, you’re kind of a jerk. But you get away with it because you’re usually right and also because you’re indispensable to the major plot. But honestly? It’s going to come back to haunt you. One of these days, you’re going to be TOO honest. You’re going to refuse to lie at a critical juncture, upholding your honorable caustic truthfulness, and you’re going to pay the ultimate price for it.

WHICH   LITERARY   SETTING   DO   YOU   BELONG   IN?   You got Juliet’s house in Verona! Not only is Verona one of the most beautiful places in Italy, it’s also the setting of one of the most iconic love stories of all time—perfect for a hopeless romantic like yourself. You can walk the old-fashioned cobblestone streets, eat your weight in deliciously photogenic gelato, and look out from your balcony at night, waiting for your lover to climb up the wooden trellis and profess their undying affection. Just don’t get caught up in any ancient grudges/new mutinies—for your sake, and for the sake of students in English classes for centuries to come.

TAGGED   BY:  @techpaired

TAGGING: @celanza, @deiforme / @variforme, @sanguire / @shegore, @gardenof, @nightscaped, and anyone else who wants to do this !

[eyesofwater]

bold  what  applies  to  your  muse.

repost,  don’t  reblog ! TAGGED BY:   @deiforme​ loml ♥ TAGGING: @mammaterasu​ , @rationalclover​ , @nottingale​ , @awkeye​ , @hameya​, @lifeinblack​, @hostdevil

to  die  by  your  side  is  such  a  heavenly  way  to  die. |   under  a  bus,  with  my  fingers  crossed.   |    it  feels  like  nothing  matters  in  our  private  universe.    |   take  me,    i’m  yours.   |   i’ll  be  a  rock  and  rollin’  bitch  for  you.   |   you  want  the  real  story ?   you  shouldn’t  ask  me.  |   i’m  so  drunk,  i  don’t  mind  if  you  kill  me.   |   i  don’t  pretend  to  know  what  you  want,  but  i  offer  love.   |   you’re  so  mean,  baby !   |   he  will  have  his  way.   |    i’m  bored;    come  on,  let’s  get  high !   |   why  don’t  you  walk  away ?   |  where  i  go,    there’ll  be  no  kind  welcome. |   into  temptation,  right  where  you  belong.    |  we’re  still  outsiders. |    i  never  feel  pain,  won’t  you  hit  me  again ?   |   oh,  i  just  don’t  know  where  to  begin. |    practically  all  is  nearly  forgiven.    |    black  words  slipping  off  my  tongue.   |   couldn’t  it  be  easy  to  believe ?   |   you  are  afraid  of  me;  that’s  why  you’re  so  unkind.   |   sinner;  i  have  never  learned.  |    desolate  in  anger  and  safe  in  isolation.   |   do  you  feel  the  pressure ?    |    i  wanna  be  forgiven.  |   spare  us  the  theatrics  and  the  verbal  gymnastics.    |   how  i  needed  you  when  i  needed  you.   |    history  has  been  cruel.   |   do  you  see  what  i  see ?   |   is  there  anybody  in  there ?    |   i’d  beg  for  some  forgiveness,  but  begging’s  not  my  business.  |    we  may  never  meet  again,  so  shed  your  skin  and  let’s  get  started.    |   every  day  i  love  you  less  and  less.   |   there’s  nothing  that  you  love  that  i’ll  ever  miss.