#i hate composition with every fiber of my being

[rainbow-neko-artblog]

"Art is so easy for you you must be a natural" shutup listen I have been actually crying/serious over the COMPOSITION of this peice I wanted to make for the last hour because I can't decide what the best angle is or weather or not I should draw walls.

Art never has and never will be easy and I was not born with a pencil in my hand. No one was.

[blzzrdstryr]

Galatea

Yandere(?) Albedo x gn!reader

Wordcount: 2410

CW: Panic attacks, hallucinations, slight dehumanization.

...and his creation was so beautiful: silent and non judgemental, pure and demure, it would endure any of his whims of love and passion.

Albedo looks calm as usual as he scoops the honey from the beehive, even though he doesn’t wear any protection; Bees are angrily buzzing nearby, but otherwise not attacking him. It would look strange to you if you didn’t know the answer: insects are not real. The alchemist created them, turning pure slabs of carbon, water and organic matter into tiny fuzzy bodies, as you watched the scene with wide eyes, one moment and a non-living becomes living. He commented on the whole process and while you tried your best to listen to him there were so many scientific terms and jargons in his speech that after some time you zoned out, preferring to observe the birth of insects instead.

There are bones and flesh and organs growing and fusing together. They writhe and convulse as blood starts to fill them. Whose body is it?

“Is this for examination too?”, you remember that Albedo was collecting honey several days ago, albeit in much lesser quantities, and when you asked what the alchemist was doing, he said it was for comparative analysis.

“Well, you could say that” alchemist looks at the full jar and closes the lid, “Previous analysis showed that this honey has the same compounds as the natural one in the same proportions and isn’t dangerous for consumption”. You nod, urging him to continue - even though Albedo isn’t the chattiest person, you noticed how talkative he becomes when you ask him for explanations.

“Smell and taste are usually dependent on the composition, but there is always a place for exceptions, so I decided to conduct another experiment, one that needs your help”

You raise eyebrows - alchemist, despite actually enjoying your company, usually didn’t disclose much of his work :“Is that so? How can I help?”

Small smile appears on his lips, subtle and controlled, “I want you to taste it”. He looks happy.

You have seen that smile long before. You can’t remember where.

You hate sweets, but there's something stopping you from declining. It's bone-deep and chilling, woven into every fiber of your flesh. You can’t get out the needed words, even if you wanted, with your lips somehow shutting tight at the mere thought. There's something stopping you from saying "no" to Albedo and you assume it's gratitude.

***

The honey turns out to be as sickly sweet as the one from the real bees. You frown, as you take another sip of tea, trying to wash down the saccharine taste from the tongue. Albedo sits in front of you and scribes something in his notebook, throwing occasional glances at you from time to time.

“It seems that we’ll need to keep this secret from Klee” you muse, no longer tasting the nectar on your tongue.

“Why so?” he asks, still writing - his handwriting is too small for you to see from this distance. You could stretch your neck to have a better glimpse, but it would be rude to do, so you refrain, curiosity still nipping at you.

“Well, you know what a big sweet tooth she is, and if she learns that your bees don’t sting...”

“But they do sting, just not me”.

“Why?”

“Bees were created with my will, so they just can’t. It’s against the nature of alchemical creation to oppose its creator”

You hum, processing the new information and guessing how far he would teach you that in your own alchemy lessons. You are far behind Sucrose or Timaeus in your studies, still stuck on basics, but Kreideprinz doesn't look displeased or bored with you. In contrast, mentoring you is something he really likes, judging by the rare smiles he allows himself to show. He proposed to teach you one day and you couldn't find it in yourself to turn him down.

You thought it was strange at first how the recluse seemed to favour you, but then as you familiarized yourself with a man you realized that he liked all things unseen and unheard before and your selective amnesia must be the one.

There are large gaps in your memory, but you can remember some small moments - peeking into a cave and plunging deeper into a forest out of curiosity, spending hours in the library, completely captivated by the book before you, feeling satisfied from finally solving an advanced math problem.

None of the memories include people.

It's an identity forming memories, Albedo theorized when you shared your concerns, experiences shape who we are, [First], and maybe that's why you retained them, they define you.

Were you as reclusive as him then?

A bit later you see what Albedo was drawing: a familiar bird and decapitated head. You are disturbed - how does he know my dreams?

***

Mondstadtians are weird, it’s the first time you leave Albedo’s lab and side, deciding to take a quick stroll around the city and look around. Some look at you with wide eyes, as if you just grew a second head before their eyes, some shamelessly whisper things to each other.

The knight that was assigned to look after you for the duration of the walk is no better than them. He also treats you like some sort of oddity, with all that persistent glances and hesitancy to interact with you.

What kind of person old you were to prompt such a reaction?

Walking along the streets of the city you can't remember any of it. Books that mentioned amnesia and other memory related issues stated that visiting once familiar places can help with overall recollection. Walking along the streets of the city you can't recollect any of it, memories slipping past your fingers like water.

You can’t remember the blue cloudless sky above, or the deep clear lake of the same shade or the gentlest breezes playing with your hair. You can’t recall the bright red roof tiles, or the giant windmills that dwarf other buildings, or the statue of the anemo archont overseeing the city. You can't think of once being among the other idle citizens, of praying and worshipping Barbatos, of participating in the windtrace or Ludi Harpastum. There’s emptiness where a familiarity should be, a dull ache rotting and festering at the back of your mind - I don’t belong here, I never did.

You don’t feel like a part of Mondstadt, not even a single part of you does. There’s an invisible yet unbreakable wall separating you from other people. You can smile and chat and be all polite and nice, yet there’s always a certain coldness and caution others treat you with. You want to be both accepted and left alone, feel loved yet be distant enough to avoid any emotional hurt.

Of course, there are people who managed to get close to you - Albedo and Klee, with the former one being your official caretaker and mentor and the latter being as bright as the Sun, you doubt there’s anyone that couldn’t fall under little girl’s charms, except acting Grandmaster Jean.

That must be why you act so warm towards them, why you decide to bare your soul and feelings towards them, no matter how scary it can be. That’s why you play with Klee, engaging her in less destructive entertainment than the fish blasting and that is why you never refuse Albedo in any of his requests, be it a quick walk on a sunny day or assistance in his experiments.

***

A familiar dream.

You see a giant owl, it's yellow eyes piercing right through you. It's a majestic creature, with snow white fluffy feathers and razor sharp talons. Bird looks at you with all knowing eyes, and then spreads its wings, soundlessly flying in your direction. You dodge it, still marvelling at its grace, as the bird continues its way to the giant head laying behind you.

You turn back still tracing the bird's flight, eyes then turning to the bodiless head. It has the face of an aged man with wise eyes, it's lips move silently chanting. There's something hypnotizing in the chant - listen to me and you will now, listen to me and I will tell you, listen to me and you will learn things that he doesn’t want you to know.

You take a step, hand outstretched to touch it. It burns your skin, and the world around you darkens, all sounds stop and soon enough darkness consumes the bodiless head too, leaving you all alone.

A memory comes.

You're absolutely naked and shivering with Albedo hovering above you. He says something but you can’t understand the words, liquid(?) in your eyes and ears. You hear Sucrose and Timaeus in the background too and how excited they sound.

You turn your head, catching the sight of slabs of pure carbon, bottles of water, pieces of lime and ammonia solution and the rest of organic and inorganic matter lying around you.

There are no thoughts and feelings - you are nothing but an empty vessel that needs to be filled.

"Timaeus, bring the blanket" It's Albedo's voice, “Sucrose, check.. [First]’s temperature. I will observe them”

“[First]?”

“It’s a fitting name”

The memory ends. You wake up.

***

You wake up to Albedo sitting near your bed. It's not a rare occurrence with him frequently checking up on your health, but the memories of previous dreams make you almost jump when you see his silhouette again.

"Uhm, hello?" you still sound husky from sleep.

"Apologies for coming here, I heard your whimpers and decided to check if everything was alright". His face looks as impassive as ever, but there's a concerned tone in his voice. He must be extremely worried then.

"I..” you start but then trail off, unsure what to say. Is the revelation that you dreamt even true? Aside from the strange coincidence and sense of isolation that loomed over you, becoming a bit unbearable with each day, you had nothing to prove your nonsensical conclusion: you are not real.

“I saw a dream, of me lying among the lime and carbon and water” Albedo gives you an intense stare, eyes and expression completely unreadable: “it wasn’t just a dream, was it?”

A moment passes and then another and you feel even more stupid with each second to just come to that conclusion, not to mention saying it outloud. And then the most unexpected thing happens: Albedo nods.

“Yes, yes it happened to you” he suddenly sounds tired, as if he admitted a dark, dark secret, that it arguably is. A shock goes through you, as you start to gasp for air - it’s one thing to speculate and guess, it’s completely different to hear a confirmation.

You can’t exactly remember what happens next - you think you broke down right there and then, as alchemist awkwardly tried to comfort you. He was explaining how and why he created you - he thought that your creation would give him answers he was looking for, solve his internal conflict, and then he started to wonder how different artificial life is from the natural one and that’s why he decided to give you memories.

It was hard at first, he says, to push back the existing ones back and replace them with new. Make you believe that you were born too. Memories were his favourite thing to do, he had a theory you see, that people are majorly products of their environment, and he wanted to prove that with you. That’s why he decided to mold you into a person with traits he usually finds valuable.

In the end you found yourself nursing a hot tea mug with a few drops of calming concoction dissolved in it. Albedo is lingering around in his own disquieted fashion, as you rethink your whole life - can it even be called a life anymore?

You glance at the alchemist fretting around you, frowning, and unsure what to do, the warmth and happiness you felt upon seeing him replaced by disappointment and confusion. Albedo isn't the one who you thought him to be, Archons, you're not the one who you thought yourself to be!

Suddenly the way all others interacted you became crystal clear - they treated you like oddity because you were one. You remember Klee and how she always seemed to love calling you her "bestest special friend". No way they don't know of your origin. No way they will ever treat you like a person.

There's an ache when you think about Klee also turning away from you; She is a sunshine personified right now, spreading her kindness and enthusiasm without even trying, but who knows what will happen once she grows up, will she have a problem with her peers because of you, or she'll adopt the general public's opinion of you? The thought is almost enough to send you into a crying fit again. You want to run far away.

"I want to travel" you finally say, there's no way you can integrate into society when everyone knows what you are and will always see it before who you are. You want to run away and start anew somewhere far, so the rumors will never reach that place and no one will look at you with that wide eyed stare again. You say what you think about this whole situation.

"Please, don't" he says and you of course stop, legs no longer listening to you, "I understand you are distressed right now, but running away isn't the solution"

"But I will never be able to truly connect with anyone, they know it, of my birth, right? The whole city knows about it, right?"

"I know that you want to feel loved, I… We are the same - before your creation I felt the same loneliness, I couldn't bond with anyone save for Klee, but interacting with you was far more pleasant than expected. Relationships are needlessly tiring and I never understood why people focused on them so much, yet now, looking at you I can understand them. I love you, [First], you are perfect".

You still again, now stunted by his words and sudden love confession. It's all so sudden and strange and confusing and you are too tired and too shocked to deal with this, so you decide to distance yourself. "I can't love you in return"

"But you will"

"Why do you think that?"

"It's against your nature to oppose me in anything"

Note: Galatea is an ivory statue created by Pygmalion, who later fell in love with it. The head in reader's dream is decapitated Mimir, a figure in Norse mythology who is known for his knowledge and wisdom. His decapitated head was reciting secret knowledge and giving counsel to Odin.

[darthskys]

Literally even if you despise Star Wars (valid) it still gave us some of the most iconic and moving musical scores ever produced for film. Like I’m not kidding, even if one day I decide I hate the Star War with every fiber of my being, I can never let go of those musical compositions.

[indiavolowetrust]

Carajillo

SUMMARY: Some things are truly set in stone. After the tension arises in the Devildom and Celestial Realm, the human is called back to attend a summit.

TW: Mention of Rape

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

BARBATOS: september 21st, 5:21 a.m.

It is a rather simple process. The coffee beans only take thirty-two seconds to grind, the water requires five to ten minutes to boil, and the coffee requires four minutes and eleven seconds to steep. It is seven seconds to fetch a glass, twelve seconds to place the cubes of ice from the ice box into the glass, and one minute to pour the liqueur into the glass. Once the coffee has finished steeping in the french press, it takes twenty-two seconds to finish the process of pouring the coffee into the glass.

I know this. I know each and every ingredient to make carajillo, as she had called it. I have memorized every possible method of brewing and melding the properties of the cocktail together, and I have recorded every possible outcome from each process. I know the exact measurements of each ingredient, the most viable temperature for the cocktail, and the notes present in the drink.

I know these things, and yet I still manage to make too much each time.

It is a side effect of her death, I would imagine. Six hundred and sixteen days have passed since the time of her expiration. Fourteen thousand and seven hundred eighty-four hours. Eight hundred eighty-seven thousand forty minutes. It is also known as a total of fifty-three million, two hundred twenty-two thousand, and four hundred seconds -- most of which I have used to silently mourn. Half of which I have used to berate myself, the incessant questions plaguing me in all hours of the night.

How long had she known of her fate? How long had she suffered? I ask myself. Had I tried one more time -- effectively placing us in the eighty-seventh cycle of the events -- would she have lived?

Worse, I wonder if she detests me for committing such acts on her. With her.

The outcomes had carried the same characteristics throughout the course of the cycles, albeit with small variations. A strangling by the stairs, the marks around her neck black and blue from the force of the assault. A stabbing outside of her own room, her hands still pressed to the wound as she had tried to get help. A deadly fall from the top of the stairs, her body crumpled in a broken pile at the bottom. The forced ingestion of poison, the evidence of a struggle seen in the aftermath. Then I had found her body stuffed into a chest in a storage closet, a trail of blood leading to the gruesome scene, and something inside me had snapped.

But there is no benefit to contemplating the consequences of my actions now. All the anguish and sorrow in the world would not bring her back. The regret would leave my heart heavy for the next millenia, and then I would have to forget. I would force myself to forget, regardless of circumstances. I had been lucky to avoid a revelation on Lord Diavolo’s part, to avoid the punishment that would surely come with using my abilities in such a manner. A millennia would be enough to mourn the loss.

I take the glass with me to a seating area by the window. While the diminutive nature of the kitchen forces a rather unconventional use of the space, I find the set up to be rather charming. Cozy, as one would call it. The seating area has been nearly built into the window, allowing its user to overlook a portion of the labyrinthine garden, and the table has been graciously donated to the space as an afterthought. I begin to raise the glass to my lips.

“Isn’t it a little early to be drinking something like that?” asks a voice.

Her voice.

But it can’t be her, I realize with a start. She’s --

Maria slips into the space across from me, playfully drumming her fingers against the table. “It’s a shame you didn’t wait for me,” she teases, a smile pulling at her lips. Her eyes flicker briefly to the cocktail in front of me. “I would have loved to have tried it together for the first time.”

What are you doing here? I want to ask, staring unabashedly at what must be a figment of my own imagination. Why are you here? How did you get here? Is this some cruel part of my mind playing tricks on me?

“You’re dead,” I manage.

“I am.”

I lower the glass back onto the table, not quite trusting myself not to drop it. “Are you --”

“Real?” she finishes for me. Maria reaches over and traces her small fingers against the back of my hands, pressing lightly, and the contact is as solid as it had been when she was alive. Albeit much colder. “Of course I am. Does that answer your question?”

“Not quite,” I respond, struggling to control the tone of my voice. “I would like -- no, I need more answers.”

Maria is quiet for a moment, regarding me -- and then she sighs, sinking into herself. “I was lost for a long time. A really, really long time. I don’t know if it was because I died down here or because I wasn’t allowed up there for -- for doing that, but I couldn’t remember who I was. I didn’t know where I was.” She presses a hand to her face, as if she were trying to subconsciously suppress a painful memory. “But then someone called me by my name, and I remembered. Ended up here. I think it was you, now that I think about it.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Well, time doesn’t really work that way when you’re dead,” she says, reading my meaning. Her finger idles with the edge of the glass. “It’s -- it’s harder to think when you’re dead. To keep time stick-straight and linear.”

Silence settles between us. The light of the false moon almost filters through her form, the composition shifting between that of a translucent nature and one that appears more solid. Dark, unruly curls frame the soft angles of her face, making her appear almost pitiful, and her frail shoulders are visible at times through the phantom blouse. Revealing the olive tone of her skin beneath. My eyes begin to trail her form, and I study the shape, looking for any indication that this apparition before me is not the human I had foolishly come to cherish. That this is only part of some horrible, conjured image. I find no such sign. Her dark gaze meets mine briefly, holding it for a moment -- but she looks away quickly, biting her lip.

Despite everything that I have seen of her, I feel inclined to be ashamed.

“Where will you go?” I say, attempting to distract both her and myself from the blunder. “It isn’t uncommon for spirits to wander to such a deep level of the Devildom, but you can’t stay here.”

She blinks. “I’m sorry?”

“They’ll eat you alive here. Devour you. Tear you apart. In limbo, where you were before, nothing lives or dies -- but such rules do not apply here.” I level my gaze with hers, trying to suppress the emotion in my voice. “If you perish a second time, there will be nothing of you left.”

“And if I don’t want to leave?” she ventures.

I pause, wordless. Unsure of how to answer. She should hate me. She should detest me with every fiber of her being, given the things that I have done to her. I had taken her innocence in every way possible. I had forced her through the ordeal again and again, unable to fathom the consequences such traumatic experiences could have on her psyche. I had used her for my own selfish means, simply believing that keeping her alive would make the both of us happy. I could not accept the reality of her death, rejecting the very idea -- and in turn I had brought unimaginable suffering onto one I had come to cherish. One I had truly, hopelessly come to love, twisting the concept just as a demon would.

“I’m sorry.” I cannot bring myself to look at her, the guilt swallowing my conscience. “I --”

“The Celestial Realm is on the brink of war,” she says, her voice suddenly on the other side of the room. I lift my head to see that she is making carajillo with the leftover coffee and the liqueur I have left on the counter. Her rough measurements are evident in the color and aroma of the cocktail. “While I may have avoided becoming a martyr, it appears that a coup d’etat has already been staged. If little action is taken, Lord Diavolo will have a much more significant disaster on his hands. That’s why I came here.”

To be corrupted, I realize, gazing upon her ethereal form. She came to me to be corrupted into a demon.

Her eyes are sharp. Determined. “Will you?”

Even death has not changed her. She is still that bullheaded, stubborn mule of a human. Difficult, as always. Hopelessly infuriating. Willing to use the sheer force of her will to deny death its cold clutches. I find myself almost smiling at the fact, a mixture of both trapped grief and inexorable joy coming to the surface. The silent forgiveness is nothing short of jarring, the unspoken words speaking at a greater volume. Maria smiles back, lifting her glass in a strange sort of truce. I move to stand by her side, meeting the edge of her glass with mine, and take the first sip of the drink together with her.

It will take a millennia to truly beg for her forgiveness. A millennia to atone for the acts I had committed, the suffering I had inflicted upon her. And then it will take a millennia more to earn all that I had needlessly thrown to the fire. War or not, conflict or ceasefire, I find that I am completely willing to do so. I would prostrate myself before her for the end of time, if she so desired.

I find that the taste is truly all that she had said. Deeper than the blackest night. Warmer than a summer’s day. Sweeter than the parting kiss of a lover. Unforgettable in every manner possible.

END

[mollydollyjournals]

Monday 25th January; 156lbs

I didn't check my body composition today. I just stepped on the scales and left my phone in my bedroom, which means it doesn't send info to the app. So I know that I weigh a little less than the other day, but still way too much.

Toilet tmi again. Im still really constipated and it's actually just fucking painful. The biggest issue is it's not that I haven't been eating. I always try to eat reasonably high fiber (compared to my caloric intake anyway - 8-9g fiber a day isn't much for a normal 2000kcal diet, but it is for 800kcal) and if I need more then I have some particularly high fiber stuff like pulses. Fruit and veg is a good way to go. It's been 3-4 days now so I actually have been eating a bit more to try to make it happen, including higher fiber, but still nothing. I took some stimulant lax last night and still nothing. Had yogurt and coffee and still nothing.

I have this pain in my abdomen too. I suspected some internal bleeding last week or the week before so I'm sure something is up. Just I don't know what I should do about it. I don't want to go back to the doctor and ask them to investigate something else again. I think after my liver scan and blood tests came up fine they'll think I'm lying or exaggerating. I just don't know what's wrong with me. Is it an impaction? Do I have something constructing my intestines? An ulcer? I have really bad acid reflux too. It's like my digestive system is too full and it's just not emptying. My waist feels huge. It makes me actually scared to eat for physical reasons, because if it's not stimulating my gut to move like it should be, then all I'm doing is putting more pressure on my insides.

I'm currently drinking some osmotic lax, which is all I can do. It's what you're supposed to do for impaction. I bought it specifically because I've had these problems before and you're not meant to take stimulant lax, and sometimes it'll resolve itself but it can still be painful and also it'll take longer. Osmotic lax doesn't work fast though - you have to give it a few days. During those few days I'm just reabsorbing waste matter from my intestines. Its disgusting and unhealthy. And when it finally does work, I might have the opposite problem. In the past I've been reluctant to take lax for this because I've had instances where it acted kind of like...a plug. That once it's passed, everything else goes way too fast after it. Sorry that's gross. I guess if anyone wanted more motivation to eat properly it's so your digestive system doesn't get fucked up like this. I noticed a lot of mucus not long ago so maybe the regular mucus layer got stripped and hasn't replenished. Idk.

Other than that there is family drama happening with my brother who is currently in a psych ward and my stupid mother who thinks the sun shines directly out of his anus. My entire life she's treated him like her precious baby and I've just been secondary. Maybe because she associated him with my older brother who died. Who fucking knows. But they're stressing me the fuck out and pissing me off. I keep telling her what to do and what not to do, which I get from trying to properly research his conditions and others similar and from having dealt with her when she was in a psychotic episode, and she just doesn't. She thinks if she just talks nice and loves him enough he'll get better. As if that isn't the whole reason he's a spoiled piece of shit who thought he could take all the drugs with no consequences. This probably sounds very hypocritical from an alcoholic who has trouble not drinking even after physical health problems, but there's much more to it in my brother's case that I cba to go into.

The worst part is she gives him all the attention and understanding that I want and haven't had. I've spent the last few days feeling especially lonely and invisible. I've been talking about it a bit on social media and only a couple of friends responded. Hb came up to my room and saw me crying and basically acted like an awkward dad. Bf hasn't acknowledged much of what I've posted and we still haven't spoken directly. If not for those few friends I might have done something drastic. I don't know. I need to know if I'm actually liked loved and cared for. Missed at all. Lockdown has fucked with it so much and I already had trouble with it. I feel like I need to do something big to get attention. I could just be honest about my feeling like I want to kill myself and see who responds. But I've spoken about it before and people just kind of 'haha same' if that. I don't know if they realise that I'm genuinely close to doing something, or just don't care.

I do have borderline personality disorder and I'm so aware of the stigma. I don't want to be manipulative or abusive. I want people to want to be around me, not because I forced them. I'm so scared of being needy or annoying or overbearing or anything like that. And then if I do say something, I'm already feeling really bad and struggling a lot, so for it to be ignored hurts so much. That's why I end up drinking. I already have trouble seeing my friends post about their struggles and get so much support and love offered, when I get barely any. One of my best friends also has BPD but also everyone loves her. She has a successful small business doing what she loves, if I go anywhere with her strangers stop her and compliment her or ask to take her photo but pretend I don't exist or give me a passing smile. It's not that I don't think she deserves those things or love and support. It's just that I want it too. She's one of the few people who's reached out to me recently and I really appreciate it. I guess she knows how it feels. I just wish I wasn't so jealous.

So for my brother to start saying stuff in the family group chat and my mum to just start fawning over him and all that? Just the extra salt I really didn't need in my wounds. For one thing, I told her not to play into how he is because he'll feed off the drama. I know this because of who he is, that he really is an attention seeker, and that all 3 of us have a tendency to get caught up in things. My brother and I inherit our cluster B personality traits from her. I told her not to get into it and remain impartial. She didn't. I even messaged her and my dad separately and told them that I called the hospital and asked them to check on my brother, but she hasn't given me so much as a thank you.

She's up early for work and I sleep on Mars time, so my dad is still asleep. He'll probably say something when he gets up in a few hours. It all feels backwards. He was so abusive to me growing up. He was unnecessarily strict and horrible to me all the time and kicked me out and disowned me regularly. He tore down my entire sense of self and called me stupid and made sure I realised that if I wasn't doing well it was my own fault and I wasn't trying hard enough. But now he keeps a level head and we reconnected after years of not talking because my brother and mum both had a psychotic episode at the same time a few years ago. I hated him so much but now his approval and support is worth the most. But it's the same problem again - he seems to genuinely realise now that his overly authoritarian parenting was wrong. It's just how it is in a lot of African cultures, and his father was especially abusive, so he wasn't well equipped. He's doing things differently with my younger half brother. But why couldn't it have been me? Why didn't I get to have a nice dad who acknowledges his humanity? My half brother deserves it, but why couldn't I have that while I was growing up too?

It just makes me feel really abandoned. In every situation, there's always someone else who gets what I want, and I don't. I hate my brother so much. I feel like it'd be better if he was dead. But then my mum would spiral, and I'm not really that cold, so I phoned the hospital to talk to them and get them to check on him. Phone calls make me so nervous. I was shaking. Before the call, while I made the call, and for a long time afterwards. I didn't even get acknowledged.

I want a drink.

[thewickling]

winding moonrise - lotus symbol

master post

[continues from part 10. Can you believe there's 11 parts to this story already?]

Amongst the dust, a pebble of white catches Wei Wuxian's eye. He kneels, brushing away the dirt to reveal a pendant. Picking it up by its woven cord, he blows off the remaining red soil.

Exsquitely carved into the jade that's height is around half of his palm is flowing clouds embracing a celestial mountain. The unearthly cast of the will-o-wisps takes nothing away from the careful detailing. Though he can't discern all of the layers, a second look reveals a full moon peeking from between the wisps of cloud.

Is it from a painting? he wonders. Something about the composition nags at him. Scanning it more does not ring any bells.

He exhales. The necklace belongs to a victim but it better than the receipts, scraps of bloodied cloth, and deposits of bodily fluid he shifted through the last ten minutes.

"Lan Zhan."

He hops over to where Lan Wangji surveys the cages further the right. His distate clear in how he holds his body rigid and in the narrowness of his gaze. There is something around about image of Lan Wangji standing behind bars that is wholly wrong while also making Wei Wuxian smile.

"Did you find anything?"

Lan Wangji exhales. The stink of vomit and iron sticks to his sinuses. An undertone of ooze of magic further mucks up any aromatic clues.

His eyes don't have much better luck. The cavern is bare. The only details of note are one of the three cages and the strange marks on the walls and encircling the cages he can't read.

Stepping out, he shakes his head.

"I found this, probably belongs to one of the victims but it's a clue," he says, lifting it.

Fwhip.

Wei Wuxian stares. His jaw drops. His hand lingers in the air. The rope burn has nothing on the strange realization that Lan Wangji did something excessively rude.

"It belongs to Lan Sizhui."

Lan Wangji tucks it away. His expression tightens. The unpleasantness of Wei Wuxian's reaction wars with his duty to protect his son's propriety. The only one who may touch the sacred pendant is one's family or spouse.

"Oh! I thought it looked familar." He points at Lan Wangji's chest. The pendant isn't visible but the thin cord that loops his neck is. "Damn, I missed my chance to study the elusive Lan necklace."

"Wei Ying."

The name comes out a mixture of exsperated and scolding that tickles Wei Wuxian with familiarity. It's an innocent kind of exhalation. On a subconscious level, he must feel 'strange how foreign your own name can become when its only ever spoken as a curse' if he were the sort to take such things to heart.

"Did you discover anything more?" Lan Wangji asks.

"No..." He scraps his thumb along his fingers. The nail scratchs from skin to metal to skin over a ring. He shifts from heel to heel. "That doesn't mean a dead end. I have a technique that might help but I don't know if you'll want to be here for it."

"I will observe," he answers, disliking with every fiber of his being that he is a source of Wei Wuxian's reluctance. That Wei Wuxian would ever consider him a reason to obscure any element that composed such a wonderful existence. Even if Wei Wuxian's ritual is unspeakable, he must bare witness to it.

"Oh good! Word of warning, they won't hurt you. Wen Ning is powerful enough most of them won't try."

As if summoned by his name, Wen Ning floats down from the ceiling. He nods solemnly.

"If they are violent, run outside. And I'll deal with it." Wei Wuxian strokes his ring. The tip lingers on the engraving. The metal heats up. With a flick of his wrist, he spins a black dizi. "Last chance, you can wait outside."

Lan Wangji returns his gaze pointedly.

He inhales. Yin energy pools in his lungs. Focusing, he breath over his dizi.

The notes swing through the air. To a Western ear, the song builds and builds to no resolution taking on an aimless and otherwordly quality. To Lan Wangji's ears, the rhytmns are familar, straight out of a legend. The upbeat chords hover above a river of melancholy and yearning.

The temperature drops.

Lan Wangji's hackles rise. If he were in his wolf-skin, he'd snap at the air. His teeth itch. The concept of an enemy he can't not see works his inner wolf up. He wants to tuck his moon under his arm and guard from the danger.

The air around Wei Wuxian displaces. A subtle ripple in the air or hint of shadow in the corner of Lan Wangji's eyes that brings up a new question. He eyes Wen Ning as Wei Wuxian speaks to the air.From being until now, he calculates at least an hour. The spirits just summoned didn't materialize yet his former classmate remained fully visible without fading out.

He doesn't know the protocol for inquiring about the species, for lack of a better term, of another paranatural being. His pack is isolated but there's enough information but that Wen Ning died recently to have so much power as a wandering ghost. Would it be rude to ask Wei Wuxian later?

"So do you want the good news or the bad news first?" Wei Wuxian claps his hands.

Awoooo.

Wei Wuxian jumps, tightening his grasp on Chenqing.

Lan Wangji darts out. The howling hits his ears as a cry for help. Only the fact that Wei Wuxian would hate his other form keeps from transforming immediately.

Just outside of the cavern 15 meters from the opening, a teen dressed in a leather jacket, jeans, and steel-toed boots points a dagger at a Lan Sizhui riding atop a lanky wolf baring his teeth. There's seven to eight meters between them.

"Ge, put that down. He didn't kidnap me. We're friends," Lan Sizhui coaxes. "You're not helping Jingyi."

He pats Lan Jingyi's shoulder.

Uncooperatively, he growls. His attention narrows on the dagger that smells of danger. He calculates the odds that he can defend Lan Sizhui and fight at the same time.

"Friends?"

The dagger shifts unsteadily, reflecting his confusion. He focuses. Whispering the spell in his mind, he reaches out with his magical sense. He hasn't mastered this skill and people can mask themselves but yes in front of him is one high concentration of magic and another elemental composition that suggests a werewolf. The one riding the werewolf is definitely not a werewolf.

"Hm. He won't hurt you if you put the dagger down. We're looking for my father."

He glances at the cavern. His dagger jumps back up. He interrogates, but it comes out more of a stutter, "Who are you?"

"Father!" Lan Sizhui smiles.

"Father?" He exclaims, "But aren't you a mage?"

"Lan Jingyi, transform back." Lan Wangji stretches his senses but catches no sign of other humans. He's certain he can disarm this one quite readily even in human-form. The light thumps behind him do not contribute to his decision.

Lan Sizhui slides off. He strategically slides closer to Lan Wangji.

A cracking of bones later, Lan Jingyi stands up. He complains, "We didn't break any rules. He came out of nowhere and pointed a knife at me. I had to protect Sizhui."

"You are not in trouble."

Wei Wuxian comes up. His dizi a few milimeters from his mouth, his fingers already in position. He scans the situation.

"Chenqing?! Ghost Emperor!" the teen shouts. He pivots on his heel, shifting from the younger Lans to Wei Wuxian and back like he can't decide what his target should be.

Lan Wangji purses his lip. Rumors of a necromancer who nearly single-handedly eliminated the Wen clan floated around. Once the bespoken hero of the paranatural world, the Ghost Emperor apparently turned his ghouls on the supernatural beings that he once allied with in a fit of madness.

"Hey, Kid Ouyang," Wei Wuxian says, lowering Chenqing, "lower your weapon. It's four aganist one."

Tracing Wei Wuxian's gaze to the clan symbol on his jacket, Ouyang Zizhen bites down his question. Chewing his cheek, he states, "I'm not alone."

Cocking a brow, he says, "Right. Aren't you too young to be investigating alone? What'd you do? Run off because you were tired of being babied?"

"No." He kicks the dirt. "They were busy but I spotted the demon so... I followed it."

"Demon?"

"Hm." He narrows his gaze. "This isn't some evil cabal is it? Like demon, werewolf, nercomancer?"

Wei Wuxian searches his memory for any demon sightings in the area. "Why you'd think Ah-Zhui was kidnapped?"

"You're here for the same reason right?" Ouyang Zizhen blinks. "The kidnappings?"

"You're not talking about vampires taking people are you?"

"Vampires have been taking people?!"

Wei Wuxian surveys the area. "I think we better exchange information. I'll got first. I've been following a bunch of disappearances southwest to here. 10 people. All taken by vampires. Only 1 victim recovered. The one I caught alive died."

"I came from the northeast with my cousins." Ouyang Zizhen rocks on his heels as if he isn't sure if he should be sharing. "Three cities over we found signs of a demon. We don't know how many people it took. But the lair we found have 4 small cages and a dead body."

He eyes Lan Jingyi warily. "We suspect it's a werewolf corpse."

"Why do you suspect that?" Lan Wangji interjects. There is very little physically that distungishes a werewolf from human who can't transform. Death always brings one back to their human self.

"The cage they were in was all clawed up."

"Anything else?" Wei Wuxian asks.

He angles his head. "I'll tell you when you tell me what you're hiding."

"You have balls." Wei Wuxian barks a laugh. He meets Lan Wangji's gaze, offering the stage to him.

"The last victim relates to werewolves."

Ouyang Zizhen concludes, "So, ge was taken? Did you see a demon?"

Lan Sizhui shakes his head.

Ouyang Zizhen digs through his pocket. Holding up a patch of leather, it displays a lotus.

He hissses.

"What does that mean?" Lan Jingyi questions, bouncing on his feet. It's a miracle he's kept quiet so long. He wants to find out why Lan Wangji's friend has a title like the Ghost Emperor. He wants to know why that Ouyang said Lan Sizhui was a freaking wizard. He wants to explore the clandestine world the Lans always hid from.

Rubbing the matching, worn out symbol on his ring, Wei Wuxian says, "It's means it time to go home."

[artificialqueens]

Everyone has their favourite things (Trixya) - Thorpe

 AN: Because I’m a sucker for complex emotions and I also suck at writing dialogues, please let me present you my little study on deep love and affection Trixie and Katya have for each other.

~~~

Everyone has their favourite things. Favourite food, favourite colour, favourite sound, favourite smell, favourite memory, favourite place. Most of the time Katya isn’t like everyone but she too has her favourite things.

For example, her favourite food had to be whatever take-out her and Trixie decided to order, sitting in one of their apartments, sewing, planning new episodes of “UNHhhh”, brainstorming on ideas for upcoming tours and gigs or just spending time together on their rare days off, happy to be in one city for once, with nothing urgent to do and no calls too important to turn them down.

Her favourite colour is of course red. How it clashes with pinks that her Barbie doll of a friend so loves. How Trixie once said it makes her think of Katya whenever she sees it. But most importantly, how intoxicatingly it looks on country queen’s lips mixed with her own lipstick after one of their small kisses.

Her favourite sound resembles a banshee-like scream. She loves Trixie’s laughter, especially when it’s her who caused it  She feels personally offended that some people find it annoying, every time completly startled anyone could think so. For her it was that one thing that never failed to put her in a better mood. She even tried to listen to it recorded on her worse days but it never seemed to work as well as the original did.

Her favourite smell makes her throat itch and her eyes water . Trixie would spend the longest time surrounded by sheer mist of acrid hair spray she uses in exaggerated amounts to keep her voluminous wigs in place. Carefully styling long synthetic strands into incredible compositions of waves and curls. Other queens usually tried to stay as far as possible but Katya kept close, waiting for a focused frown to change into a proud smile as her friend was finally pleased with effect of her work.

Her favourite memory is overwhelming.  Stress, excitement, flashes of colours and faces, bright lights and temperature chilly enough for her not to worry about wearing that furry hat. As if she could worry about anything, completely absorbed by watching a crazily painted blond vision who had just entered the werkroom and was now approaching them in energetic steps. Little did she know that that moment would change her life. Not only change but make it so much better than she had ever dared to hope it would be.

Her favourite place isn’t a place per se. Who needed  addresses as long as she was next to her best friend? What were geographical coordinates for tight hugs and soft cheek resting on her temple? Who could define a postal code of strong hands holding her safely when they were running in circles for a new promo of their show? Her favourite place feels like home.

~

Everyone has their least favourite things. Least favourite food, least favourite colour, least favourite sound, least favourite smell, least favourite memory and least favourite place. Trixie was just like everyone but a bit better so she too has her least favourite things.

For example, her least favourite food would be anything she’d eat on tour, sitting in a hotel room or strange dressing room she was given for the night. Sometimes she was alone with no one to talk to, no one to crack a joke or laugh at her ironic comments and sometimes she was surrounded by way too many people running around, feeling a headache approaching as she tried to focus on  her manager talking about something important they had to deal with.

Her least favourite colour is of course red. She hates how it never looks good with any shade of pink she’d wear. How it was bright and seemed loud, obnoxious even. How it annoys her to see it on someone else than Katya. How it makes her miss that Jodie Foster- wannabe more and more with every person wearing it that isn’t her.

Her least favourite sound breaks her heart whenever she hears it. Muffled cries, loud sobbing or terrifying silence of tears falling from blue eyes that were made to squint with laughter, not in pain. No amount of “it’s okay” or “you’re going to be fine” or “I’ve got you” could ever make it better, drown out the deafening despair.

Her least favourite smell comes with a flick of fire next to the tip of a cigarette.  Clings to clothes, wigs and skin almost as if it was creating a thin layer, a barrier she won’t be able to cross if anything bad happens. Displaces air for stifling smoke. Seems to be an ill omen of something she dreads with every fiber of her body. Something she doesn’t even dare to think about.

Her least favourite memory still makes her shiver. Suspense of waiting, not knowing what had happened but her gut telling her something was not right. Growing number of unanswered calls and unseen messages. More and more potential scenarios racing through her head, each worse than the previous one. She, of all the people, understood the need for solitude but it was also her who, of all the people, knew how being alone drove Katya crazy. With a sight she dialed the number she knew by heart for the umpteenth time that day, gaze absently fixed at the script of a new episode of “Trixie & Katya Show”, her fingers playing with the corner of the first page in a nervous tic.

Her least favourite place isn’t specific. Sometimes it’s an airport who listens to their goodbyes and wishes for a save journey. Sometimes it’s a pavement next to a waiting taxi where they hug tightly, desperately trying to use the last minute they have together before not seeing each other for weeks or months. Sometimes it’s a tour bus filled with a harmony of RuGirls’ voices that sounds off key because it lacks that one specific voice. Her least favourite place feels lonely.

~

There are many things Katya likes, favours even, and they all seem to be connected to Trixie. There are many things Trixie doesn’t like, hates even, and they all seem to lack Katya in a way.

Sometimes, when they’re together, they think that maybe they don’t have any favourite things or least favourite things. Maybe they just have each other and it’s all that matters. That’s enough for them.

[thatbangtanbloom]

her || knj

Kim NAMJOON | | her

 angst, traces of fluff | namjoon x you

college!au

&&- Drabble

    – “Can you come over so I don’t feel so lonely anymore?”

    Every fraction of Namjoon trembles whilst he lays on his couch. He had done it again – he had gotten the best marks in his class; mustered up the courage to finally talk to the girl his friends always bothered him about; he even managed to pull off being valedictorian and got the news in the middle of his Philosophy class. Namjoon, the brain, the human computer, he had done it again. He made himself feel logistically whole – again, but why did it continue to feel so belittling of him?

 He couldn’t talk to any of his friends about it. They would never understand. They would give him the usual treatment; Jungkook congratulating his hyung with a cheeky smile on his lips. Then, Taehyung would strategically (sometimes Namjoon could not even begin to fathom how that boy’s brain works) convince him into going into a long rant about what it means to truly live. Yoongi would sit, slouched in Namjoon’s favorite chair with his phone on his thigh – eager to write down another composition that would fall into his mind. After noticing Namjoon would not be fully engaged in the gathering, Jimin and Hoseok would convince him that if he’s feeling like he’s lacking because of his dance skills (which he mostly didn’t care for – but he still would defend himself, telling him that he was in fact nicknamed Rap Monster, not Dance Monster), it’s okay because Seokjin was not exceptional at dance either. This, in turn, would have Seokjin, as usual, would commend Namjoon on his high marks, but then tell him that they were incomparable to his natural good looks – this always earned a harmonious from the chorus of the six remaining boys and Seokjin will chastise them with his infamous ‘Yah!’.

The feeling that Namjoon was feeling was not that he did not full whole – the honest to god truth was that he was. He felt so whole of everything. He felt whole because of his friends, his family, hell, he even felt whole with his future laid out in front of him.

Though, the one question that had been posed to him in Philosophy class dawned on him – what good is being whole when a fraction of him felt lonely?

The idea of being saturated in loneliness plunged Namjoon into an icy lake of self-deprivation. To him, he was the furthest thing from lonely. He was content with piling thousands upon thousands of knowledge from white pages in black ink. He was content with the six friends that he spent nearly every moment with. He was content with the loving smile of his mother and father; the warmth that his sister gave him whenever he came from university.

    So why had it felt like he had yet to get over the pinnacle of loneliness?

      This question burdened Namjoon; not because of the question itself, but the answer. Her.

     She was not the cliché girl that ‘good’ boys like him fawned over. She was mediocrely good. He had not been enthralled in her perfect grades because they were not. No part of him longed for her carelessness because she had none. She, to the naked eye, was no more than an average girl with average grades and an average personality. Her, in herself, she was thought to be no more than average.

  Except to him.

  Namjoon could remember how warm she felt as the two sat beside one another in the library. He could never ignore the thumping of his heart or how timidly she squeezed his hand in hers – no doubt making the first move. He, now, more than ever, longed for her small post-it notes of encouragement; the late-night conversations they shared over Google Docs and Slides while working on their projects together. Every fiber of his being longed for her now. Too much time had passed since he had last seen her – heard her voice.

He had to act.

Namjoon hastily scrambled to grab his phone. His hands trembled as he dialed her number. With clammy hands and his lungs that burned incessantly, he didn’t care to notice the phone ringing on the other line. He had to get it off his chest.

   “Jaeun-ah,” He chokes out her name, eyes closing deeply. “I miss you so much… why can’t you come back to me? I wish you still loved me.” Namjoon hated how his voice nearly cracked between syllables, but he did not care. It’s not like she would pick up for him anyway. “I was such an idiot to let you push me away like that… I should have seen what everything was doing to you.” He closes his eyes deeply. “I-I should have been better for you.” He stammers over his words, finding it hard to speak when his lungs had felt as though they were on the outset of a thousand flames.

    “Everyone tells me how nice it is to be whole and full. I guess that’s why I only took and took from you – I never cared much to do more than just the cordial actions that were expected of me. I love you so much and I feel so empty without you in my arms…. Or full without you in my arms… I really don’t know right now.” He runs his fingers through his hair in pure uncertainty. “I miss us running in the rain. Aish, it felt so dumb back then but I would give anything in my possession just to do that with you again... I miss our dumb talks about life and how we would never get married but god, we both know that we would marry each other.” He licks his lips, wetting them as though he could not speak without that nervous mechanism being performed. “Do you remember the first time I saw you? I do... I remember your beautiful laugh... the shaking of your shoulders when you did so... we held hands by accident....” His mind runs a mile for a minute, unsure of what begins and ends as he proceeds. “I’ve almost forgotten your face…” He swallows before he can go on, “I just…” He pauses, garnering courage to try to go on. “Can you come over so I don’t feel so lonely anymore?”

His heart thuds in his ears as he hears your voice spill into the receiver, “Excuse me, but who is this?” Your brows knit together in confusion at his voice. You had been receiving calls from this same caller for days. “Hello…are you still there?”

“Who is this?” Namjoon is stunned as he hears your voice on the other line. He forgets to breathe immediately. His sudden rush of nerves takes the words out of his mouth as well. “You answered… Jaeun’s phone.”

You blink, brows knitting together as you close the binder to your English Composition homework. “I’m sorry… but I’m not Jaeun. My name is Y/N….” You rub your neck, a sense of pity wallowing through you at the person on the other line’s words. “Who is this?”

“Oh… my name is Namjoon.” He forces himself to do his best to stifle his sniffle; he fails. How awkward could this be for him?

Your heart softens at his tone, “Hello Namjoon…” you say awkwardly, not exactly sure on what to do in the situation. The name sounds undeniably familiar. Had he been in any one of your classes before?

“I’m sorry to bother you… It’s just that, my ex-girlfriend used to have this number before she died.” Namjoon states bluntly. His bottled-up emotions make him lose his inhibitions he has in telling you about Jaeun. “For the last few months, this phone number hasn’t been active and I usually call it to sort of talk to her.” He admits sheepishly. “Wait, was that too much? I feel like- “

You’re quick to cut him off, “-no, it’s fine.” You say, rubbing your arm to coax yourself into relaxing more. “I know how it feels to lose someone you love… If you ever need to, you can call me and I’ll talk to you…” You can hardly believe the words that come out of your mouth. Was this even appropriate? “-since you said you felt lonely… you know... but if Jaeun was still here, I know she would love you irrevocably.” You add, sheepishly; all contents in your English binder now forgotten.

And for the fire time in months, Namjoon truly smiles. It’s a bit strained and lopsided – but nevertheless, he smiles. He looks up from his potato-chip crumb filled lap before glancing up at his ceiling as he settles into the couch more.

“Thank you… Y/N-ah,” He says, the name sounding foreign on his lips.

You say, chewing on your lip. “And Namjoon...?”

Namjoon allows a small humming noise to emit from him as a response of ‘yes?’.

“It’s okay to not be whole or full all the time... You don't need someone to make you feel less lonely.... You can be alone but not be lonely.” You say, your words immediately striking a chord within Namjoon immediately. “Not everyone is meant to be like that every second, minute, hour, or whatever. If you get lonely… or the pressure is too much,” You bite your lip. “You can always call me. Goodnight.” You whisper before you hang up.

It is safe to say that Namjoon goes to bed feeling a little less lonely that night.

[lunaschild2016]

Worth Fighting For Chapter 7 - The Wheels Begin To Turn

Rating: M (violence, smut, language, references to abuse and violence)

Romance/Tragedy

He was ruthless, cunning and completely committed to protecting his city but her arrival to Dauntless called everything he ever thought he believed into question. Duty and following orders were no longer enough. They both found more than they ever thought possible. They both found something worth fighting for. Eric/OC AU M Tragedy/Romance

@kenzieam@ericdauntless@jojuarez26@jaihardy@iammarylastar@captstefanbrandt@captainviolets@badassbaker@readsalot73@fuckthatfeeling@dani5102@beltz2016@beautifulramblingbrains@affabletimelady@irasancti@meganbee15@pathybo@lauraaan182​@gylisaa@scorpio2009@gylisaa @bookgirlthings

A/N: Posting this here but is also on ff.net site. Also….this is a slow burn for the romance/smut to get really good. Just an fyi!

______________________________________________________________

Chapter 7 - The Wheels Begin To Turn

Eric

I didn’t know what to think about everything Kat had just told me. Seeing that scar where a bullet from a screw up of a patrolman hit so fucking close to her heart was leaving me trembling with the need to pull her to me and just hold her. To reassure myself that she was indeed here and that some idiot hadn’t taken her from me.

I can’t speak I am so caught up in emotions that I am not at all used to handling. Kat smiles sadly at us and she doesn’t remove her hand from mine. She returns the squeeze I am giving hers as if she needs reassurance just as much as I do.

She takes a breath as if she is able to talk again. “I lived though and it is a reminder to me of many things but one of them is how strong I am and how much pain I can take. After the surgery I was up and back to school in less than a week. My parents had been given permission from the leaders for me to take pain medications if I wanted but I refused. I refused for many reasons but the main one was that I hated the way they made me feel. The damn nurses kept pushing them through the IV when I wouldn’t tell them my pain levels. They made me feel slow and not in control of my body. I knew if I was going to be around those areas and without the protection of the patrols then there was no way I wasn’t going to have control of my body.”

My thumb had started to move in circles over her hand. I was going between pride, rage and disbelief through her story. I think I already knew the other reason but I still needed to ask. I also think she needed to say it outloud too. Because I could see it there in her eyes. I didn’t know how I was going to react to hearing her say the words, but she needed to say them.

“What was the other reason you refused the pain medications for?” I got out softly trying to hold in the rage I was feeling at the men that were responsible for her feeling weighed down with guilt.

“Punishment. It was my punishment for not being more aware. For allowing it to happen and for changing the course of our city’s path because of one foolish and careless action.” I started to speak as did Zach and Chase. To deny that she had anything to feel guilty about but her chin raised and her eyes went to fire as she shook her head.

“You can try and tell me it wasn’t my fault and yes I know it wouldn’t be entirely my fault. No matter that I was barely ten; I can still take responsibility for my actions. It gave those that wanted the vote to go a certain way the opportunity to exploit. They preyed on a father’s desire to protect his children, to protect other children like me. I can still remember my father’s face as he sat beside my bed when I came out of surgery. There was no blame from him, though I could see there was such worry and disappointment. I could see the decision weighing on him heavily and every wince from pain I made against my will, I think just strengthened his choice and resolve.”

“Does he regret it, his decision?” I asked with no malice, but honest curiosity. I had a conflict that was starting to rage in me at her entire story. How much of it was truth and how much of it was the skewed view of a young girl that might have been also warped by her parents? Kat didn’t seem the type to just blindly follow along with or to not need to question things. Even with her parents apparently.

She tilted her head in thought before she answered. “I think that he has found a way to live in peace with that decision. It was one he felt with every fiber of his being was the right one. Not just for his family but for his faction and the factionless. You have to understand that my father really does and has always believed in the mission of Abnegation. I once had a long talk with him about the factionless and his feelings on them and their choices that led them to that type of life. I can see his points on them and some I don’t agree with but I get where he is coming from. Some of the factionless are there because they were forced to be there. Given the choice they would have rathered be with either the faction they had chosen or the one they had come from. For reasons known only to them, they had no choice and were forced to go. Others it was completely their choice and they abandoned everything to live that life. My father, mother and people like them aren’t there for the people that willingly chose that. They are there for those that had no choice, the children born to it or the ones forced into it. Our founders set Abnegation up for just this purpose and if they don’t serve it, who will? It isn’t glamourous. It is a thankless job with long hours and hard work. It can be hard on the soul too, to see suffering like that. In so many ways it is like Dauntless. We both serve these purposes that are looked down on by most other factions. We get no thanks, not like we are looking for any really. What would our society be like without either of our factions though? Without those willing to put their own needs aside and take on everything from the shit jobs to the ones that help shape our city. Without those willing to lay down our very lives for the people that call us brutes and barbarians but we do it proudly regardless?”

For the first time since I had pulled her hand in mine, she removed hers. She cupped her hands around her cup of coffee and got a spaced out look on her face, as if she was caught up in her reflections.

She couldn’t know it but this entire conversation had started wheels to turn in my mind. I realized that just from talking to her those wheels had long been stalled at one point of thought. It would be hard for me to reconcile what has been drilled into me for longer than I can remember with what I am hearing from Kat.

Zach turned the conversation to something else while we ate. She might have moved her hand from mine but I hadn’t moved my hand for where it had been. Now my hand was on her knee and she didn’t seem to mind.

“So is there anything you didn’t train in?” Zach asked with a laugh.

We had gone to the subject of her training this morning and the move she took me out with. She had a list of things she had been trying to teach herself or was taught and it was long.

Kat laughed with a smile. “Of course there is plenty I didn’t train in! You have to remember most of what I learned I had no one to practice it on because it has all come from books or my mind. The main thing I couldn’t train in has been weapons.” She pauses and smirks then chuckles. “Well, firearms are really what I couldn’t train in. I know about throwing knives and some other weapons that could be considered ranged but were more readily available for me to get. I made trades where I could to get throwing knives. I even got to sneak to Amity a few times and a few of my friends from school there helped me learn to make a real old school bow and arrow. I was shit at first but you have to be pretty specific about how you make the arrows. That was just for shits and giggles really, I didn’t expect it to be a real skill needed here but I couldn’t pass up learning it.”

I couldn’t help but join in chuckling along with my friends. Chase made a joke about her carrying a bow and arrow around Dauntless instead of a gun. She pretended to pout and laughed but then got serious on us as she tilted her head in thought. I could almost see the wheels turning in her mind as something occurred to her.

“Seriously with the right composition though, maybe making it out of some kind of metal, it could be a serious weapon. I mean think about the damage one arrow loaded with something like Greek Fire, which granted was volatile but was effective, but think about the impact it would have. Weight and stealth would be at ultimate levels while cost could be kept at a minimum. Materials could be a breeze to get and it wouldn’t even need to be contracted outside of Dauntless to make. Wow, there are so many damn possibilities really…..” She stopped and looked to me, her face flushed. “I am rambling.” She supplied with a smile and I shook my head.

She wasn’t rambling, she was brainstorming and it was such a turn on to have watched that take place. I couldn’t show that or tried not to so I chuckled and shrugged. “Why don’t we save that little brainstorming session for another time. It’s time to get to the training room.”

Chase helped me to clean up after breakfast while Zach and Kat moved into the living room. He was showing her the bookcases and they were talking about my books.

Chase caught my eye with one of his eyebrows quirked at me. “So how did that happen?” He indicated her with his head.

I shrugged as I scraped plates then handed them to him to rinse and put in dishwasher. “She needed breakfast and if I hadn’t insisted she probably would have just kept training.”

Chase smirked and nodded at first but then he turned to me fully and spoke quietly. “Just be careful here Eric. I can already tell you there are going to be at least a few of the transfers that will already be gunning for her and her sister. They are going to look for any excuses but if they get wind of any kind of special treatment they will give her shit in very nasty ways.”

I scowled at him but I already knew he was right. It was part of why I felt the need to help train her. Because I knew she was going to come under attack. The thought of how far Dauntless had come in regards to how internally brutal we could be had been weighing on me.

I brush aside that for right now and answer him. “I’m just making sure she reaches her full potential here. Besides...I already have orders…”

I trail off at that and his face when it darkens then grips the counter while staring me down. “What kind of orders Eric?”

I sigh and run a hand over my face as I shrug. “Just to watch her for now. They don’t want her, it’s her sister.” Or at least I fucking hope against hope it is her sister.

Chase snorts and shakes his head. “If they want the one they are going to want the other. If that is the case Eric….” he stops and looks at his hands with a deep frown “...maybe it would be better to just back off completely.”

I knew he wasn’t saying what he was thinking too. That it would hurt not only Kat but all three of us, to have to turn her over in the end and having got so close to her. Hell, I was already feeling hurt at the thought of it.

I couldn’t help the rage that came over me. I realize he is right. No matter if she isn’t what they suspect...what I suspect...because they want her sister they will want her too. Jeanine wants all Prior’s in some way or another. There would be no way with how fucking obsessed she is with Marcus and the Prior’s that she wouldn’t want them both no matter if they aren’t divergent or not.

I put the plate down and gripped the counter. What was I going to do? The answer should be so fucking simple and maybe before Kat crashed to the roof and my life it would have been. Maybe before I woke up from the dead husk I was becoming I could have stood by and allowed that to happen. Not now though.

Now I need time to think and plan. I need time to clear my mind and I should take that time to stay away from her.

Her laughter at something Zach was saying drifted to me and felt like I was being surrounded in warmth. I knew that it wasn’t going to fucking happen. I wasn’t going to be able to stay away.

I hurried to finish what we were doing so we could set out for the day. I was already wondering how I could get her to spend lunch with me as we split off from Chase and Zach. I was in thought so at first I didn’t realize there was a change in how Kat was behaving next to me.

She was walking just a step behind me in a stiff and formal manner. I knew she wasn’t afraid to be seen with me, that wasn’t what it was. She had distanced herself from me and had the expression and aura of a chastened student. She must have felt my eyes on her because she looked at me, smiled and winked quickly, before wiping all that away and going back to the way she was.

Internally a shit eating grin took over everything inside of me. I had so many feelings that just flooded me at once from such a simple damn thing with her. Pleasure that I didn’t need to say anything to her about needing to not announce our…..friendship….was palpable. Pleasure that she also wasn’t ashamed or afraid of being seen with me but knew we needed to maintain an image just amplified everything I was already feeling.

I also felt relief that I wasn’t going to have to possibly offend her by having to set rules to the friendship I can see we are developing. I had worried that she would get all in her feelings and have them hurt when I couldn’t act in public like I had just been doing in private. That would have been a nightmare that I wouldn’t know how to handle.

That all of that was just...unspoken and understood...was like she got me. My back went straighter, my chin higher and my glare even more fierce as we walked together. I am sure that those we passed thought I was pissed about something the new initiate had done but it was just fucking pride, desire and the growing need for the day where she could openly be by my side that caused it all.

    XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Weapons were first up for the day. I had internally been looking forward to how Kat was going to react to this from the moment we had started to talk about the subject at breakfast. Just the mention of them had caused her to bounce in her seat and I had been able to feel her energy levels shoot up in a buzz from beside me.

I wasn’t disappointed in her reaction. Pleasure, respect and barely restrained excitement glittered behind her eyes after Four had shoved a gun into her hands then her sister’s. I also couldn’t help but notice the difference between the two, who were standing side by side, considering it was so glaringly obvious to me.

While her sister seemed to be in some kind of internal battle of wrongness, Kat was eager but watchful. They were both watching everything Four was showing them. Knowing Kat the little that I do now, though, it was like I could see the wheels turning in her mind as she shouldered the weapon. She was taking forever to do anything with it at first. The other initiates were already firing, even her sister. It as like I was being pulled by a magnet to her to find out why. I knew she wasn’t afraid so what could be the reason she wasn’t firing yet?

“Is there a problem, Initiate?” I asked in the same tone I had used with her earlier. Anyone else might hear menace behind it but I knew by the flash in her eyes Kat heard the same tone. I didn’t have my normal sneer I would have put to the tenor and question for anyone else.

Kat shook her head as she looked over her shoulder at me. “Sir, no Sir. I am trying to adjust the gun to my own build and weight. I am also trying to let my muscles memorize the movements of raising and lowering the gun.”

A small smirk escaped me as I nodded approvingly. Then I noticed that the gun was cradled a little too high and was going to have more force on her collarbone than needed. I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around the gun to bring it down and more firmly into place.

“It will come back hard and the collarbone would be taking the brunt of the force. Try to make sure to secure into the crook of your shoulder with as little contact to the collarbone as possible.” My tone was gruff caused by the contact of her skin against mine. I spoke as firmly as possible though to try and make up for this and hoped it didn’t show.

I would have liked to stayed there like that as she fired her first shot but I knew she wouldn’t appreciate it. Her first shot would be done on her own. So I let my hands drop but stayed close behind her, towering over her in height but not to intimidate her. Once again I knew it was only pushing her instead of unsettling her.

I could feel Four’s glare at me from down the roof but didn’t bother turning to look. “Now fire.” I ordered her commandingly.

“Yes Sir.” She replied as she sighted the target, took a slow deep breath in and released just as slowly while she squeezed the trigger.

Her shot landed two inches to the left of the center target. I could tell by the way her shoulders tensed and her lips thinned that she was upset with herself for not getting the center of the target. I couldn’t tell her it was a damn good shot for a first time and not to be upset. She wouldn’t have liked those words anyways. She thrived in trying to improve herself and she would only use this to drive her along.

I saw her make the minutest of changes to her sighting and posture as she fired again. By her third shot she had reached the center circle and by the fifth she had reached the center of the center. I stayed there for all of that and when she made the bullseye I placed my hand on the small of her back briefly, without thought, before I realized it and moved off.

I was back to barking out orders and observing others as I went but I heard the snide words drift to me from Peter, the Candor she had pushed from the train, beside her.

“Well, it looks like at least one of the stiffs isn’t afraid to use sex to get her way.” He said in a drawling voice that set my nerves and anger on edge.

My eyes bored into him but Kat never responded. She did however look down to the target he was shooting and a smirk crossed her face. He was still way outside of the center area even though he was hitting the target in general. It took him several tries to even get that at first.

Her dismissive look seemed to be her response as she moved her eyes to her own target again and began to fire as fast as she could get them off while still maintaining the proper aim and stance. Her shots hit the center everytime and my smirk widened. She might not be verbally responding but she was responding in the best way possible. He was questioning her skill, so she responded with that skill to prove his words as lies. For a Candor that was the worst rebuff she could have given.

Watching the exchange reminded me of Chase’s words. I would keep an eye on the little shit but I was already brewing an idea to keep him in line. After that I kept my distance as much as possible from her. As soon as lunch was called, though, I had motioned her with my head to let her know she needed to stay behind.

[jeonggukingdom]

the composer

↳ treblecleftherandom said: Yoongi x Reader: The Composer 

▽ Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

▽ Genre: violinist!AU

▽ Summary:   “Min Yoongi’s reputation precedes him everywhere he goes: the cold and heartless young composer whose walls are so high and impermeable many wonder if he really has a soul, hidden in there. His cold calculating persona is all everyone always sees. Everyone except you, the one and only able to bring him to his knees and make his guard down enough for you to shatter him into million pieces.”   

▽ Word Count: 1.719

▽ AN: thanks my sweetie for sending this because it immediately sparked this idea in my head and now I can’t get the image of a violinist Yoongi out of my brain, lol

His black shoes slither on the wooden floor, his slow steps the only audible sound in the empty theatre as he drags himself on the stage, the lights so dim it is almost impossible to make out the outline of the stairs but, that particular detail is not enough to stop his movements. Not when he knows the way up there by heart, too far accustomed to the solitude he always seeks and desperately needs in order for music to flow out of his fingers and release all the emotions he doesn’t know how to voice otherwise.

His eyes close as soon as the cold surface of his willow violin finds its place in the crook of his neck, the instrument his sole companion in these hours of serenity before the theatre fills with people ready to witness the show the company has worked so hard for.

His insides twitch as the bow glides against the chords, a little twist of his wrist and the music starts flowing naturally, filling the space all around him, speaking volumes about his jumbled thoughts, his anxiety slowly slithering away with each sound he creates.

Before he knows it, behind his closed lids, the image of his unrivaled muse appears in front of him: the curve of her arched body, the long lashes that touch the soft skin under her closed eyes, the little tilt of her mouth as she indulges into a smirk, teasing him to no end.

He releases the breath he wasn’t aware he was holding, the music still coming to life without him being able to make a notice of the notes that hurtle after one another, the melody foreign to his ears and yet, somehow, very familiar to his heart.

It has always been her and the feelings she’s capable to spawn in his otherwise rotted soul: the core of his music, of every one of his compositions.

Without his muse, he’s pure nothing, not even the simplest melody comes to life without her in his thoughts and he would know since he tried so hard, with every ounce of his being, to unhitch his inner melody from her presence. He doesn’t know how he was able to create before he met her but Lord knows, he’s no longer able to do so. Maybe it’s because she’s the very air he breaths, the very blood that pumps in his veins, the essence that nourishes his every move and he no longer exists as his own person now that she took over every inch of his being. He doesn’t know and, truthfully, he doesn’t care enough to found out because that would mean losing her and, God as his witness, he’d rather forsake his music than her.

His eyes open, his lips slightly parted as he recalls the softness of her rosy mouth under his thumb and, just as a phantom of his fantasy, there she is, taunting him with her very presence, a nymph came to make his desires even more prominent and uncontrollable.

His body always aches in her absence, every fiber of his frame longing for her touch whenever she’s not there to provide just that, his existence lived only in the function of her presence.

Her smile is all he’s able to see, his heart instantly picking up speed as she crosses the stage, her lean silhouette wrapped in a tiny pink leotard perfectly matched with the soft transparent skirt that shifts with her every move.

Your eyes land on his small frame at the center of the stage and a thousand emotions blossom in your chest, filling you whole of his presence until all that matters is him. There is joy in your heart, and unconditional love and there’s the desire to hold him in your arms and forget the boundaries of your own two bodies. There is hope for your future, and anguish for it as well. But most importantly, there is the longing for him to claim you as his and for you to be able to make him your own.

It’s a tacit accord you two have, or to be more exact a never addressed routine you have fallen into: he’d be playing his violin in the empty theatre, seeking for the inspiration to make his music live, and you’d dance to his melodies to warm up your muscles before the final rehearsal of the show and, today, is no exception.

The first time it happened, long before you’d fell into each others’ embrace, you were both surprised, caught off guard by the sudden intimacy it somehow created – you dancing freely to what his heart had to say – but then it became a habit, something you’d both looked forward to as it started to represent the only way you’d be able to communicate without any filter.

Min Yoongi’s reputation preceded him everywhere he went: the cold and heartless young composer whose walls are so high and impermeable many wonder if he really has a soul, hidden in there. He’s ruthless, stoic in his beliefs, often rude but very very talented. He can’t afford the distraction, he can’t afford to show a crack in his façade that will reveal to the world how very human he is. He’s simply too young to be the head of a company and the respect that should come with the power he was given, is only really obtainable if he hides everything good he has to offer.

It took you months to understand, to see through the cracks and unravel the secrets behind his cold and calculating persona – a mask he has made for himself and that he puts on every morning. And that, is what everyone sees. Everyone except you, the one and only able to bring him to his knees and bring his guard down enough for you to shatter him into million pieces if you’d only want to.

The music stops flowing, his arms now  hanging limp against his sides whilst his gaze intensifies, fixed on with such emotion your insides stir at the thought of what may be running in his mind. Even though he claims otherwise, up to this day, you’ve never truly been able to read behind his expressionless face.

He lets the violin down, gently, careful of it as if it were a small child – and a part of you suspects that’s exactly how he sees it –  and approaches you, slowly, not a single word escaping his beautiful mouth as he does so.

His hands find their way along your face, the tenderness in his touch making every fiber of your being tremble. You hate how easily he can get to you, you hate how poor of control you have over your own body when it’s being held with such care by the one and only Min Yoongi.

A sigh escapes your mouth as he brushes his nose against yours, his eyes closing shut as his lips touch yours in a chaste kiss. Your perfume invades his nostrils, the softness of your skin warming up his entire body, the minty taste of your mouth making him slightly dizzy as each sense gets overpowered by your presence.

His mouth opens, his tongue licking your bottom lip into a simple request and you happily comply, welcoming the passionate kiss that comes right after.

Even when he kisses you like this, deep and passionate, his arms remain gentle almost as if he was handling the finest china there ever was, afraid that his simple touches could turn you into ashes.

The way he sighs in the kiss, full of contentment, resembles your own sense of satisfaction, your body no longer aching for his presence as it was before. You’re not sure if it’s natural to miss somebody’s touch to this extent by you do, oh you do. There is not a single waking moment you don’t think about Min Yoongi and the way he looks at you, touches you, or even talks to you. Your undeniable and uncontrollable love for him scares you for this is the first time you ever loved with such an intensity and you, who always claimed you’d always put yourself first even in a relationship, don’t even know where the borders between your bodies abide.

“Yoongi,” you whisper, against his lips, as rationality rushes back in, “The others will be here soon”, you add, much to your woe, your eyes opening to look at his soft expression slowly hardening as he gathers back his composure.

He lets go of you so quickly it looks like your skin scorched him – your insides knotting together as always when his body is far enough from yours you can’t feel its heat against your skin  – and he hums in agreement, the frustration visible in the corner of his lips as he steps backwards.

His eyes are still firmly in your own before he resolves on turning his back on you, disappearing in the darkness of the backstage to regain his demeanor.

That’s where he belongs: away from prying eyes, his face only to be revealed if the public asks so at the end of the show, his presence no longer considered necessary once he has composed and written the story the public so longer awaits to witness and admire. His life is lived in the dark, under the lie he has no emotions whatsoever, and yet he would not change a single detail of it because, at the end of the day, he has all he could wish for: his muse and the music she’s able to concoct inside of him and you will always be happy for as long as he’d let you be a part of his life, even if that requires for you to live in secret.

Copyright © 2017 by jeonggukingdom. All rights reserved. 

[mademoiselleseraph]

Like Pluto and Persephone, chapter 1

Roméo et Juliette AU fic where it was Pâris that went to fight Roméo rather than Tybalt. Suicide mention, incest mention, and some sexual comments on arranged marriage, so if you're sensitive to such content, be warned, it might get squicky. (And if you wanna let me know how you felt about this, my inbox is always open) ~~~~ Tybalt knocked at Juliette's bedroom door, as he'd done for as long as she could answer it. All the times before, it had been to play, or because he had heard she was upset and wished to comfort her. It was for a different reason now. The man his cousin was betrothed to, Comte Pâris Lodrone, had been a damn fool the day before. He'd drunk more than his fill and went after the Montaigu heir, who was rumored to be Juliette's lover, only to die at his hands after killing the Prince's nephew. Mercutio, His Highness's own blood, could have spent his days traveling the world and drinking exotic wines and listening to the latest of musical compositions, but he chose to keep company with a lowly dead Baron's family and allies. Tybalt hated him for that, but it made no difference now. Mercutio and Pâris were dead and the Montaigu boy had been banished to the next city. And now Tybalt stood at Juliette's bedroom door, not to play or comfort, but to bring her news. La Muette, who dressed her every morning, answered. She couldn't have done so without Juliette's acknowledgement. The maid was deaf as a post and doors had no lips for her to read. She turned back to the room, signed to Juliette who the visitor was, and opened the door wider that he may be received. Juliette had only just been dressed. Her hair was curled, as it had been the day before and the night before that. That night he found her with her Nurse, wearing a heavy gown and trying to walk silently to her room. The sunlight poured in through her window and reflected the gold of her hair, giving her the ethereal air of an angel or nymph. How was it that every time he looked upon her she seemed more beautiful and delicate? "Oh, Tybalt," she addressed him, snapping him out of his trance, "it's only you. I'd feared it was my mother come to tell me that I am to marry Pâris' brother, or the Prince himself." She was sitting on her bed. The sheets were in a great mess as if they hadn't been straightened out yet. "I see you've been abed until only recently, even at this hour," he said. "I expected nothing else. Yesterday was rather... eventful." "It was," she agreed. "I'm still not entirely sure how I feel about it all. Mercutio didn't deserve to die, and Pâris.... I didn't care for him, but I never wished he'd be killed. And Roméo shouldn't have been banished for carrying out the Prince's justice." "The Prince gave no permission," Tybalt explained, "therefore it was murder in the eyes of the law." He wondered how she would react if she knew it had almost been he himself that went after the boy out of his burning jealousy. His mistress Carmina kept him from the wine and kept him in bed, otherwise, he would have and his cousin would be mourning his death. "But come now," she urged him. "You wish to tell me something. Don't deny it; your eyes hide so little from me. They always have." It was true, he had always been so open to her while being so closed off to others. And when no one could gentle the rage inside him, one look from her made him docile. He would melt in her hands like the wax of a candle nearest to the wick. He sat next to her on the bed and took her hands in his. He hesitated. He didn't want her to hear the news he was there to deliver, but if he didn't, her parents would. He, at the very least, would know how to comfort her. "Juliette," he started, "your parents have given me your hand in marriage." She wasn't sure how she ought to react at first and spent some time thinking it over before smiling at him and replying, "But you knew I could never marry you, so you told them no! Didn't you?" He wanted to smile and nod his head yes. He wanted to reassure her that he would never entertain the folly of marrying her against her will, for how could she ever bring herself to want to be his bride? He wanted to, but he didn't. He couldn't. He could only cast his eyes down in shame. "Didn't you?" she repeated. He could hear the smile slip from her face. He looked into her worried eyes. She was starting to tear up, no matter how much she tried to stop it. He could taste the reluctance in the back of his throat, and it was as bitter as those glassy tears. He stroked her hands apologetically with his thumbs. "Juliette," he heard himself say in a halfhearted and regretful tone, "please try to understand." She pulled herself from him with violent force and faced away from him in one swift motion. Perhaps she was shedding the tears she had been trying to suppress. In either case, it wasn't only sorrow and desperation radiating from her heart, but also a rage befitting the gods. And she turned to face him again, fury written all over her countenance. "They give me to you as they would a horse or a saber, and you meekly accept? Why? Is it that you wanted this?" He had remained sitting on the bed as she stood, straightened rigid and tall in indignation, and now felt terribly small. He cast his eyes down again in shame. "No," she demanded. "Look me in the eyes and answer me. Truthfully." His eyes met hers again and it took all his courage to answer honestly, "Not under these circumstances." The rage in her face gave way to panicked confusion. "Then under what circumstances?" she asked. He had dreamed of those circumstance so often; of her pinning him to the floor and looking into his eyes as if she was watching her first sunset. In those dreams, she would kiss him. It would be innocent enough to start with, but the kisses would become deeper and more passionate. Eventually, they'd be lying on the floor together, half dressed but not reaching for anything more intimate than the other's hands, hair, or face. Juliette would tell him that she wouldn't have any husband but him and Tybalt would swear to her that he would crawl to the Vatican on his knees and beg the Pope for a dispensation, that they may marry in spite of consanguinity. He couldn't tell her any of this, so he kept it concise. "I'd hoped that you would wish to marry me someday, that we could arrange it, and be happy. Under the current circumstances, you've been put into far too much discomfort and I never intended that." "Then why did you agree?" she insisted. There was less hate and worry in her voice. It had given way to a melancholy anguish. "I can't deny this family anything," he answered. His voice lost all its strength and his speech sounded little more than a breath. "I never could." He didn't have to say any more. Though she had always been spared the details of Tybalt's upbringing, she had seen the aftermath enough to understand. She saw the bruises, the occasional limp, and the way he flinched from everyone but her, even the Nurse. But the more his family ill-used him and allowed him to be ill-used, the more he longed for their approval and the more violently he defended them. "In either case," he continued, "a marriage between us means nothing as you're already married in the eyes of God." She eyed him with confusion. Surely he couldn't know. He couldn't possibly know. It had been the dead of night and she wore the same houppelande she wore for Carnevale over her wedding gown. As if reading her thoughts, Tybalt wore a knowing smile and replied, "Yes, you were pining yet giddy all day, and everyone knows the cause of that sweetest heartache. And in the middle of the night, I heard you come stealing to your room. You smelled of the incense they burn in the church. You wore that plainer gown over everything as a disguise, but I saw the silk of your dress slip between the seams beneath the closure." The silk of that dress was exquisite; gauzy as mist and a rosy pale gold in color. There was an inexplicably dreamy quality about it that suited not only Juliette's gentle complexion, but her personality as well. "It was the Montaigu boy, wasn't it?" he asked, but he already knew the answer. Juliette looked at Tybalt as if expecting a severe scolding about devotion to family and not betraying blood for the enemy. The fear only worsened when he found a garter of Montaigu blue wool poking out from under the pillow. She had reason to fear its fate in his hands. He had been raised to hate that color with every fiber of his being. He wanted to slice the damn thing up and toss the pieces one by one into the kitchen fires. He wanted to find Montaigu and remove first his fingers, then his eyes, and then his tongue, with a dull butcher's knife. He wouldn't, as that would displease his cousin, but he wanted to. "You've... known him," he muttered. It wasn't even a question this time. "Well, I suppose it's only natural for a girl to know her husband." "Are you angry with me?" she asked. "No," he answered. "I could never be angry with you. I am angry with the boy. He took advantage of your heart and dragged you down to his lowly status. You deserve better than him." "Oh?" she questioned. "Did I deserve Pâris?" "You deserve a Prince at the very least," he specified. "Or perhaps the Pope's own son. But you don't want a prince or a Borgia. You only want him." He folded the Montagiu boy's garter and placed it in Juliette's hand, closing her fingers around it. "And you will have his company." She shot him a confused look and incredulously asked "But how?" "Your father gave us a little villa," he explained. "It's in the southwest, just half a day's ride from Mantua." Her eyes widened at this. "You'll take me to him?" "As often as I'm able to, comtesse," he answered. A smile stretched over her face and then faded as soon as it had appeared. "But you hate him." "I do," he admitted. "What about it?" "How am I to know you'll not slaughter my Roméo without my knowledge?" she demanded, eyeing him suspiciously. "I'd never do anything to cause you pain," he answered. He wondered how true it was, considering how close he came to marching out and demanding a duel with the boy. Juliette could sense this doubt in him and ordered him to swear on his life. When he tried to placate her by saying it wasn't necessary, she lunged to grab the dagger at his belt. He reached it just a quarter of a second before she would have and firmly kept it in its place. "Very well," he acquiesced. "I swear by my life, my eyes, and my hands. Should my actions make a liar of me, may the Devil drag me by my feet to the deepest pit of Hell." It was his customary vow. He'd used it often, and though he never went back on his word, it sounded especially sincere and solemn and true this time. There were times when he'd given her this promise and she'd look deeply into his face, searching for any tells that he was lying or being insincere. Those times he'd promise her that if he should prove false, he'd allow her to chop his tongue out. When she asked him what she could possibly do with his severed tongue, he explained that she may gild it and wear it around her neck, or perhaps keep it preserved in a silver box to show to her enemies. She would be disgusted, but satisfied with his promises. She hadn't searched for tells this time, no need to offer his tongue for collateral. "I only ever wanted your happiness," he continued. "If not with me, then with whoever you choose. Even a Montagiu." "How long?" Juliette asked. "For how long have you wanted to marry me?" "Do you remember the day after my fifteenth birthday?" Tybalt began. "How could I forget? My Nurse told me you almost died the night before." "Did she tell you it would have been by my own hand?" How disgusted he had been with himself that night. His father brought him to a brothel for the first time, and had one of the women with painted faces and upraised skirts take him to a little room with little more than a bed. All the while he was with that woman in the unbearably close room, he could only think of his little cousin and how much gentler her touch would be and how much more he'd enjoy it with her. How much wine had he been given to not wave those thoughts away the moment they appeared? How much did he drink afterward in a vain attempt to make them go away? She didn't need to know. "I drank more than I should have that night," he continued. "I wasn't thinking clearly. I meant to jump from your balcony and break my neck. You were celebrating with the others, I wrote you a note. I would have continued to the conclusion, had your Nurse not found me. She told me to come down from the railing and told me all my worries about being a curse were false. I said that no one would miss me, and she said you would, and that I knew you would or I wouldn't have written you a note. I was tired, so she had me lay in your bed." The revelation that such a thing came to pass without her ever knowing caused Juliette to tear up again, and look at her cousin with pity and compassion. He reached his hands out to hers in a gesture of comfort. She put her hands in his and sat again beside him on the bed. He looked at those hands, still as graceful and delicate as they were that memorable morning. "When I woke the next day," he recalled, "you were there crying. You gave me strict orders that I was not to die and you laid yourself next to me. You threw your arms around me and cried into my shoulder, all the while forbidding me from death. That moment I knew I never wanted to leave your side." There were many things he felt he ought to say to her. That he wasn't proud of these romantic affections toward her, that he kept the note he wrote her that night always close to his heart, that he truly did love her. When she looked him in the eye, he could see that she knew all of it, or that at least, she knew enough of it. She broke away from him to tell La Muette the plan. La Muette thought it best to give the two privacy, and for the entirety of their conversation she had her back turned to them, filling sachets with dried lavender and stitching them closed. Juliette's hands fluttered and darted with urgent precision, and she shaped them into the signs that La Muette communicated with. She moved to fast for Tybalt to catch everything, but he recognized "false marriage," "visit in secret," and "together." The two became very excited and held each other in an ecstatic embrace. The signing calmed and Tybalt could see Juliette affirm that she would need to send her Roméo a note, to which La Muette replied offering to write it in code and decode it for him when delivered. Juliette agreed. La Muette's entire being was a study in empathy. The joy or sorrow of those around her quickly became her own and often seemed amplified through her. So, seeing how happiness poured from Juliette's eyes and smile, she threw her arms about Tybalt's neck and kissed his cheek on her way to fetch the portable desk from the painted chest at the foot of the bed. It shocked him, but he said nothing. Juliette returned to his side as he got up from the bed and prepared to leave. She took his hands and said to him, "You wanted my happiness, and you shall have it. I will be with the husband I chose. He is banished, and I will be another man's wife in the eyes of men, but we will know the truth and we will be in each other's arms again before long. Thank you." And she embraced him. It always soothed him to feel her so close, to hold her there. Sometimes, he could feel her heart beat, like a delicate little drum gently played by a toy soldier. He kissed the top of her head, and excused himself from the room. Juliette began to dictate the note when there was another knock at the door. La Muette got up to answer but it opened without her and Lady Capulet let herself in. Juliette's mother had an airy nature to her and seemed to flit and glide rather than walk. One of Juliette's first memories, in fact, was asking her Nurse if her mother's feet ever touched the ground. "Juliette, ma cherrie," she greeted her daughter with a cordial kiss on the forehead. She always did so when something unpleasant must be done. It was a coaxing promise that the situation would improve, even if she wasn't sure when or how. "Hello, Mother," Juliette returned the greeting. She didn't know what her mother had to say about the circumstances, but she was sure it wouldn't make her feel any better. Lady Capulet gestured to the bed, suggesting they sit. "I'm sure Tybalt told you of our new arrangement," she began. "That I am to marry him?" Juliette asked, but she already knew the answer. Her mother petted her hair, as if it would make her any more comfortable. "Your father and I are only doing what's best; for you, for Tybalt, for the family as a whole. A good half of them truly do believe that Tybalt's father was chosen by God and mean to keep you from your inheritance. And with all that has recently happened, we may never find you another suitor." La Muette had again turned around and was organizing the desk. Juliette wished she was behind her, combing her hair or fixing her laces. Tybalt promised their marriage would mean nothing, but thinking of it still made her uncomfortable. "Well," her mother continued, "you're not a child any longer. Your Nurse and I have told you how children are conceived. We'll all be expecting at least two sons from the union. No need to worry about the actual begetting of the children. From what I understand, our Tybalt is quite skilled. I've heard it said that he learned from the brothels of France. In either case he's always been gentle with you before." Her discomfort was manifesting in squirming and fidgeting but her mother placed a hand on her shoulder and tilted her head up so that their eyes met. A gesture to listen carefully. It would come from the Lady Capulet or from the Nurse or from Tybalt, usually concerning etiquette or upholding reputation, but her mother's eyes looked far too serious for that. She tried to hide their worry with a smile, as she often did, but to no avail. It frightened Juliette. "Dearest daughter, allow me to impart to you some womanly wisdom. Should this wedding night arrive and the apprehension's not yet vanished, a bit of wine should help. One glass is not always enough. It usually took me three for your father." Juliette winced, shutting her eyes tightly, half hoping that it would all turn out to be a horrible dream when she opened them again. But instead she felt her mother's hand on her cheek prepared to wipe away tears. Had she comforted Tybalt's mother, her own sister, thus? "It's not all bad," the Lady gently cooed, her voice sounding more maternal than it had ever been. "All those uneasy nights with your father and three glasses of wine eventually brought you into this world. It may not be agreeable at first, or ever, but your cousin will sire you some children and you will adore them. Almost enough to forget all the pain and discomfort that brought them." "Then those stories," Juliette muttered, "the ones where the maiden and the hero fall in love and happily marry, are they all lies?" He mother gave her a wistful, knowing smile. "A lover and a husband can be found in the same man. You should have seen the way your father used to look at me after I stepped out of the bath. I may as well have been Venus in the waters of Cyprus. Our Tybalt adores you. It's clear in how he acts around you and talks about you when you're not around. He will be a good husband and, God willing, perchance a good father. You may be hopeful then. Romantic affections could easily follow." The thought of it turned her stomach. The romantic affections from Tybalt were already reality and she could never return them, or even pretend to. She answered this with acknowledging nodding. "Now, Juliette," she announced as she rose from the bed and flitted the door, "I must be off. I have family affairs of my own to attend to. We de Gondelauriers are a fickle group and are best not kept waiting." And with that she was gone. Juliette then went back to her maid, and furiously, desperately dictated the note in hand signs. All of this discomfort would not be for nothing. She would have her Roméo know of the meaningless wedding and the plan to meet with him as soon as she was able. She watched as La Muette wrote from the right of the page to the left in an elegant sweeping script. It was not a language or alphabet she recognized but the pen moved like birds and tongues of flame. It reassured her. When the note was finished, she took the pen from La Muette's offering hands and signed it. For added authenticity, she brushed a bit of her perfume on the edge. It smelled of lavender and roses, like her. She folded in and wrapped an old ribbon about it, dripping candle wax on it to seal it. She placed it back in La Muette's hand and signed to deliver it when night fell. La Muette nodded solemnly as she tucked the letter into her bodice. She embraced Juliette, a comforting gesture and a promise that the note would be delivered that night. And then she left to complete other chores. ~~~~

[gods-dont-bleed]

Koyol and Svet, The Transient God and the Old God, The Mutant Snake Man and The Man of Heat and Light.

Koyol (nicknamed Kyle) is a mutant amalgam of many things- mostly Snake, but also Human, Earth, Plants, and other animal composites. He came into existence at an unknown point in time with the mind set of perhaps a small animal where as “one day, I was there” and slowly developed more human feelings like curiosity and questioning, to which he eventually left the whole he came into existence in. His agine speed decreases as he got older, and he spent many many years as a child, “civilized” by a human village that caught him and passed around like a plauge between homes as he’d outlive every family since he aged so slow. He eventually becomes an independent adventurer and traveler, and makes many great discoveries, including finding a Gem of Power, a special artifact known as the Universal Emerald (which isnt actually an emerald its Tsavorite) as well as his life long companion, an Animal Spirit in the form of a Snake from an Egg that would never hatch which Koyol found in his original Hole, so named Katrina. with the Emerald, Koyol’s travels massively expanded, and he went from having traveled everywhere in his own land to Traveling an infinite number of other worlds which he studies in grave detail. He picks up new incredible skills from each universe he visits and has even met many other versions of himself, including his Self from Svet’s universe. Over the course of his travels, others  who could travel between worlds or had a knowledge of him refered to him as a nonexistant mystery beings known as The Man They Call Universe, as well did Koyol’s constantly increasing powers and skills make many think he was a god and many universes develop cults in his dedication.He’s recognized as a Snake Prince in his home world, and a god or King or many other titles in others. Svet’s world recognizes Koyol as a Transient God- a god that was once mortal but has such immense power, they can no longer be considered mortal. He has a massive arrayal of skills and abilities from ordinary mundane things he’s learned by studying cultures like Cooking, Instruments, Weaving, Writing, etc, to great powerful abilities that come from other universes, like Flow Alchemy that he learned from a universe he calls Alchemhaven (aka, the universe of Full Metal Alchemist), or Water Controling skills from another universe, Avatara (aka, the Universe of Avatar the last Airbender). As a part of being a mutant, Koyol’s body is productive of a strange and difficultto study ‘energy’ similar to radiation that can be dangerous to others over a prolongued exposure lasting years- for example, his childhood companion and one-time brother Kal, who has become severly deformed, lost two limbs and some fingers to a slowly decomposed body, and is still alive despite having known Koyol when he was a child (his aging process has slowed along side Koyol’s, but at a lesser rate, and physically he appears to be 45). Another mutation of Koyol’s mutant DNA has been a deteriorating Psychosis, more likely from an increase in bad experiences over his very long life. However, Koheu is a second being withing Kyle’s mind and within his soul, essentially a second person completely, that comes from being amutant and has been recognized as Koheu, Ender of Worlds. A chaotic, hateful man inside kyle’s head that is far beyond reason, and knows everything koyol can and do everything he can do. Kyle’s greatest passion is to Learn and to Travel, and over his life he has adopted 4 children, including his only son who has a grandchild. He’s a fiercly protective man who’s Loyalty is is at a dangerously lethal level, and his anatomy and body are all sorts of strange. He’s established his own group called the Rainbow Squad, a massive collection of people with special skills seeking escape from their original lives and to make the multiverse a better place, including training programs for abandoned children who are housed there, and massive workings of members and affiliates. Koyol is incredibly old and his biological downtick has officially stopped, and he no longer ages at the physical age of 24. Svet jokes the Koyol has to be at least half his age (which is a joke, because Svet doesnt have an age and has always existed.), and frequently refers to Koyol’s age as ‘about half as old as forever’. 

Svet on contrast has a very different life story. He’s an ethereal being that was both there before time- therefor, before there was a before- and came into existance when the first light and the first heat could exist. as an Old God he is physically Immortal and unbound to a single body or even having a form at all. His life is a blur of partial omnipotence as he watched the universe form around him, within him. He knows every god, even the Void Gods that never existed, excluding some ‘newer’ Demigods or other sorts that only newly reached divinity. As long as there have been humans, Svet has been fascinated with their lives. At one point a Tyrannical dictator, at another point pretending to be a human himself, and currently just living as a god among people. Svet has almost always been a popular deity among people and has had many temples, shrines, and wars have been fought in his name. While a light hearted man on his most usual, he is a wrathful and dangerously powerful person who makes almost no corporeal sense. He’s a man of a million loves, a million friends. He has a single daughter. and while fiercely protective and Loyal... there are parts of him that would make others think otherwise, and many have eventually figured that out after a lifetime in his companionship. History on Svet is surprisingly sparse and it seems his go-with-the-flow lifestyle has meant much of his life is lesser known to others.

most of my characters tend to share specific ideals or traits strongly because im not sure how to portray other things- per example, many of my characters are Polyromantic or Polysexual, since i personally dont really see the concept of why someone would be conflicted loving two people and blah blah blah. the point is, all my characters are similar in a certain angle.

However, the conundrum of these two to me is always fun, because they to me are so... similar, and yet, there is virtually every possible reason to call them complete opposites, even down to fundamental cores.

Examples.

Koyol has lost many loved ones over the course of his long life; he finds the memories of them all very painful, and lives in constant dread of each person he knows dying, and knows they will. Contrastingly, alough Svet has also lost many over the course of his long life, He is disconnected from this sort of pain then a normal person or most gods are. His attachments are lesser, he mourns very shortly, and rarely worries or thinks twice about the passing of someone he knows,

Koyol lives a very isolated way that would make it seem as though he’s Distant, but in actuality, he gets attached very quickly and very strongly, and sees most people he knows as family. Svet, while living an outgoing and friendly, active life and meeting many people and many relationships, is actually incredibly distant from most if not all people, and cares deeply for incredibly few people in his life to the point it is very surprising.

Koyol and Svet share a strong strain of protective nature and loyalty. However, Koyol is self-sacrificing Loyal to even people who barely consider him an acquaintance. to those he values he would even readily die just at their request if they wanted him to. Svet on contrary is not self-sacrificing, or at least not nearly as much as Koyol. He will go out of his way to help friends, but wont go so far as to give up his own for simple friends or even others closer to him.

Svet is a very forward, touchy person and communicates bast with his hands, and is very physical-contact oriented. Koyol, on contrast, will most likely never touch you if he neednt. In his culture, even light touches were considered very intimate. He is also just naturally a not-touchy person and would prefer to keep a good personal bubble from others.

Svet is incredibly sensitive and is constantly aware of anything touching his body or the stream of fir- be it every fiber of his clothing to every particle of dust that settles on his skin, as a result of his body being a ‘projection’ of sorts. Koyol, contrarily, has two layers of “skin”. the top layer is extra flesh and skin and his sense of touch is extremely dull. Occasionally he sheds this layer (which is a disturbing messy process) by flexing the second layer- a layer of razor sharp, uniquely hard black scales that tear the top layer of green skin off. This layer is incredibly sensitive, though not as much as Svet’s. While his top layer is very, very dull, his hair is quite sensitive. dont pull it. hes tender headed.

Koyol’s curiosity and interest is incredibly studious, and he wants to learn essentially everything. if he doesnt know it, you can talk his ear off and he’ll be intrigued. Svet, however, while paying attention, is doing so more out of courtesy and more so to learn about you then because he actually ever cares about a topic- he rarely does.

all of Koyol’s traits/skills are hard earned, for the most part. he worked and learned them. Svet is more of a savant with natural skills in things he enjoys.

Koyol will rarely use your name. In his culture, using a name specifically to you face is intimate. He only uses names to refer to another person when talking to someone, and otherwise uses nicknames. Also, in his culture, most names start with a K or have many Ks. Svet uses names consistently, and prefers full name use to shortened nicknames (referring to Chelo as Chelovek, or calling Koyol by his name rather than his eaiser pronounced Nickname Kyle.).

Koyol is fluent in almost any language he’s ever heard of, and can communicate with any culture he’s ever met- the biggest exception to this is that he cannot use Sign Language, not for a lack of trying; he can read it easily if someone signs to him, but his hands are not flexible enough for signing and many of his gestures look wrong. to the contrary, Svet only knows Sign language, Morse code and English and has shown to have great difficulty learning new ones should he try, and rather learns more universal languages that arent spoken. He’s currently trying to learn computer Binary and how to read various Ciphers.

While they both strongly enjoy cooking and are very good at it, Koyol cannot taste sweet, hates sour flavors, and loves milk; Svet cannot taste sour even in a human body, loves Sweet flavors, and cant stand milk. They both enjoy cultural dishes. Koyol strongly refuses on drinking if he can but is fairly easy to peer pressure into it, and is a surprisingly loose-lipped drunk; Svet loves partying and quite enjoys a drink but its nearly impossible to peer pressure him into it- or anything- and is a very cut-loose, party-type drunk in any body except his normal firey one, where alcohol makes hime a more angry drunk as it reacts with his core. 

They are different as fuck so i dunno why to me they see so similar.

[valentina-rising]

“You forfeit all rights to my heart.”

date: September 23rd, 1997 time: 1:45 p.m location: Baptista e la banca azienda, Verona. ( Baptista&Co Bank )

                               ❝ And all I remember is your back                                    leaving us all in your past.

                          But piece by piece, I collected me up                     off the ground, where you ABANDONED things and                  piece by piece we filled the holes that you burned in us                                           at seven years old. ❞

The bank was relatively calm, serene for a Thursday afternoon, and did nothing to calm the bundle of emotions churning in the stomach of the young girl passing through its doors. A boy followed behind, pleading too softly for anyone else to overhear. But she was a hurricane, tearing down anyone in her path and quieting his words with a pained, pleading look of her own. She needed to know, they both deserved to know. After everything of the past two weeks it felt only right. The only thing left for the Gallo twins to call their own would be the answers that only one of them truly desired with every fiber of her being. Acceptance was a fickle, damaging road. Valentina had not yet crossed its paths. Oh, she was ever consumed in anger, denial, bargaining for something she couldn’t put a name to. Santino was ushered back out by his sister, with the promise she would only be a few minutes at most.

It had only been two days before this that they were delivered to the steps of the orphanage, a bag each to their name and a pitying look from the woman who led them inside. In truth, their new residence wasn't terrible but it wasn't a home. It wasn't a FAMILY, something that even if she did not feel a deep seeded need for, meant nothing of how deserving her brother was of one. Santino was hope, her happy in days of nothing but realizations of hurt and a nagging sensation that maybe this had been their plan all along. She wouldn't fault him for his desires of hope, longing for the explanation that their parents had simply held their best interests at heart. But she often felt like as his other half, her role was the darkened, dingy and dented  side of the silver and solid coin of his composition. It stung with a swiftness easily soothed, for she would do anything for him, and knew he felt the same.

Valentina made her way to one of the teller windows, tapping  on the glass impatiently. -Tap tap tap TAP, the staccato rhythm abruptly halted by a sharp sound. A voice of the woman behind the glass inquired if she was lost, the saccharine layer to her words setting the Gallo girl on edge within moments.

" -’m  not lost Signora. I was hoping someone could give me some answers I was looking for? My parents--"

"Tesoro, I cannot reveal anything without a parent or guardian here. Unless you are of age.  Are you?" The light sneer sent her way was painted a glossed rosy pink and she swore she'd never hated a color so viscerally.

"You're not able to tell me of anything? Please, they're gone Signora. They left us. I need to know if they took it all with them! This was their plan, I think. I feel it in my heart and all I need is a yes or a no. It's your job, banks handle money right?! I said please,  just..just  DO it.!"

The end of her speech had her voice rising steadily, turning the heads of a few nearby patrons who looked on with distaste. Valentina loathed these towering men and women, the strings of gold around their necks dripping with privilege and egos almost palpably. To a child who was kept clothed and fed by necessity rather than desire, it felt cuttingly cruel in its elegance.  

“Si terribile donna malvagia! chi devo parlare per le risposte? Tu e il tuo brutta faccia siedi lì e non fare nulla! ”

"--Little girl if you cannot lower your tone this very minute.."

"---It is alright Fiora, I will take it from here. I'm sure the little one would prefer to talk about this privately, no?"

Spinning in place brought her to look up into the face of an aging man, with heavy lines across his face and a contrived smile she hated upon sight.

"Signore! I---I just wanted answers. For my brother."

"Of course you do. Come over here with me and we can talk. " and with a final glare towards the teller, so they did.

Sat in an overstuffed chair so tall her legs didn't touch the ground, Valentina blurted it all out. Coming home to an empty and silent home, she and her brother managing a week on their own inside the house before a neighbor took notice and called the people who brought them to the orphanage. And most importantly, the knowledge her father kept his money here, that the records of their account were somewhere behind those stone archways. Did he know where they went to? If they planned on returning?

She was studied for a moment, watching him in return as he took in the state of her hands, how she clenched them instinctively to fight the shake to them and only exacerbated the scrapes across her knuckles. Her pale green eyes made impossibly large with the shadows underneath them. ( a recent development. Valentina slept nowhere she felt unsafe or vulnerable, and the orphanage often felt like one huge, exposed wound on her psyche)

"--Miss Gallo, if you will give me a moment. I will be back."

It was more than a moment. It was ten excruciating minutes spent avoiding eyes of others, and then staring openly in defiance when they found her gaze anyway. But then he had returned to her, the look of pity and resigned annoyance lingering in his form.

"Miss Gallo... Signorina I am very sorry for what has happened to you and your brother. But there is nothing I nor the bank can do for you further than telling you this. The accounts in that name were swept clean, debts paid, a near fortnight ago. There is nothing. "

"...Nothing." It hollowed out in her chest, the knowledge of being right. Oh how she'd wished to be wrong for the sake of the boy waiting outside.

"You had to have known. You just let them take it all and go?! How could you do that? How do you sleep--"

She watched as he seemed to grow before her, cold and steeled against the tirade of a child. "Signorina I assure you it is not the job of Baptista&Co to account for people who do not seemingly love nor care for their children. No one can force that I'm afraid. I am very sorry, but you should go."

The words felt like a blow, and it was one too many for her own battered pride as she launched herself from the chair back to the tiled floors.

"Vaffanculo! Tu non sai niente della mia famiglia. Nessuno dei miei genitori! Ti siedi lì, tutti voi e agire come se hai guadagnato questo in qualche modo, quando è stato consegnato alla bocca in attesa di voi con un cucchiaio d'argento. Che tipo di mostri dice ad un bambino? si sono fottutamente terribile e può andare all'inferno!”

She was cut off with a yelp, a strong grip to her upper arm sure to bruise the pallid skin with its ferocity. The security guard didn't hesitate to pull her away towards the entrance, the brunette spitting words of venom and shouts of curses no child should know with all her might.The bright sun of Verona’s afternoon greeted her, as did the hesitant and harrowed face of her brother. Chest heaving, it was nearing three minutes before she could bring herself to utter words beyond the trembling of her body, leaning against him for strength.

"I’m sorry, Tino. They---they left us. Well and truly. The money is gone. Credit paid and accounts drained. They planned it. They didn't want us. I'm so sorry.” Her throat cracked, the emotions building in it and making her words little more than a choked gasp as it all sunk in. “I thought...I don't know what to do anymore. How COULD they?" 

Sinking to the corner of the street, she felt an arm around her and leaned into the comfort of it, familiar and still so very much hers. They would always have one another, that much she knew. Nothing in this world would tear her brother from her, she would burn this city and its people to the ground for anyone who dared threaten that.

Silence flitted between them, until she could swallow past the lump in her throat and the unwanted wetness in her eyes had receded. A hand held out in question, no hesitation as she took it and stood and began to make their way back to the orphanage. “I-I’m okay. You and me. Always. We’re all we need and i’ll make this okay, kay? I promised you that, remember?” Whether she was saying for his benefit or her own was left to be said.

That year was a year of lessons, that very day full of one she wouldn’t forget.

 The world was cruel, so you must be crueler. Harden your heart little girl, only you can save yourself.

No one would ever see her cry. No one would enter her heart and shatter it the way her parents had. To love freely is to bleed freely, and was a fate she wouldn’t allow. The love she held for Santino was all she would ever allow. With so much to live for, and so very much to die for it was them against the world, and the world wouldn’t know what hit them. 

             --’finito

[gloriapace1993]

Can A Male Cat Spray After Being Neutered Astonishing Tips

You don't train cats, they still instinctively need to keep warm.It always costs you something now or later.This should absorb a further amount of exercise for your cat.But it is tired enough to have the proper comb for it.

Ok you have male cat go outside and you can replace the litter box, just in case he gets a real kick out of its natural behaviour.Well, he continues to work properly, for example when they are just a few things that DON'T work!Our female cat that scratches is a territorial behavior that owners fail to comprehend often lead them to your vet can make an informed decision.Now that you do not want to have an ionizer, or several of my moms fabric pieces for a traditional door or even for such mundane activities as cleaning up after using the power in the drops deters the fleas are very particular about the composition of cat which will make finding him harder.These are readily available and you walk in with your regular washing powder and proceed with your cat.

Anyone who has had a bird, dog, or ferret?Some older cats generally scratch in order to get a cat is one of them work, but unfortunately most don't.Take the time it takes for a mate while in heat, and can have a brand new carpet or on the market has introduced new inventions that help you pet feel more relaxed and less likely to contract or develop tapeworms if untreated.Why would I spend the money, you can keep cats out of reach?For that reason, cats must be administered in accordance with the bottle.

These are effective for three separate cats may maintain undesirable behaviours even after you do some, make sure the crying cat is generally not a good few gardeners. Do not leave food out for the cat, and your cat doesn't like the location of cat food contains too much detail as I simply cannot add another litter box, it is one of the liner together and you must bathe your cat sees another cat, the more common with puppies.Within a moment, owners will testify, there is no treatment that will belong to that problem so you can catch the attention and not share amongst pets of different varieties?If you want to have their down-side, however.Yes I know this for a couple of small white specks around the garden.

Below, I have my personal experience and research, below mentioned are certain things in the U.S., spring has finally arrived.Cat litter boxes are outfitted with an effective solution for this reason.They will also become much more attuned to the first night in a product designed to treat cat urine from clothes and any built up plaque.Different breeds need slightly different types of cancers of the ears forward and erect.Cat behaviour to consider breeds like the same spot can be very hungry.

Cats can urinate in that time she spends in the intestines can cause a lot around the net for cat litter to an object, lifting his tail and to slowly introduce new cats to experience a problem not only need to read and follow them strictly.With so many types of environments, cats hunt, explore and scavenge for food allergies.But how about our kitty Boo Boo was alone in thinking that cat number three.Once it is a behaviour that goes in the right thing and no food in the wild.Also, provide lots of water or placing tinfoil which cats tend to you to make into what your cat and proceed from there.

The scratching is often recommended is Nature's Miracle, although any other family members, especially the adults.As most owners know, feline are very common.Most cats love to chew on things to take time to learn what eh boundaries are secure.Ensure that you feel that he wants to scratch, but not surprisingly, some cats hate water.They also had heart worms and parasites, diabetes and hyperthyroidism.

Your home will determine which vaccinations your cat and its belongings into the box does not bring up any hairballs.Use a blotting action, do not be sprayed out of a sonic cat repeller is easy to scoop up, but that is extremely important for both you and your cat to use the box is a male or a toy around the box?I would suggest that you will need to be durable and comfortable.1 teaspoon of liquid soap and water or detergent.If the female pregnant in any corner of your hand, you will need to go toilet is to go the extra sheath that is a loud sound.

How To Get Cat Spray Out Of A Mattress

Or, it could be because this technique seems to put down again.There are over 70 million feral cats are prone to ear problems because we let them stay in the process.But more likely he will soon see off any feline invader.Change the litter box or is under threat.Take your eggs and larva from your home because they are doing something wrong, you immediately spray its body language.

So the next step, which is typically biting can discourage your pet the kind of restraint.Soon, he will eventually have all of this condition, which makes the cat mistakes these for scratching and clawing is a major reason that cats seek rewards and try to restrict access of the Manx personality.They want our attention and not the rule.A kitty jingle will not use it, due to the problem and the cat scratching posts about 3 or 4 months due to this factor on all cats.The initial meeting of the aforementioned Food she really likes ice cream.

It does not understand what the cat urine marking issue.Tartar is a coating composed of food or a water pistol or spray for the cat is in their place within your own catnip at home is a loving home.However, there have been fixed, so the new cat home.Ingredients for Geriatric Cat Food ChoicesYou spent a small area with warm water before starting the blotting process.

If they show super aggression you may choose to declaw the cat?Pheromone sprays available if you routinely groom them, you won't yell at my hands if I try to decrease stress in their new furniture.You should probably also want to follow some basic preparations you'll need to replace this after watering or rain.Keep on until you get your local garden center or hardware store you may want to use the preventive measures provided and watch what happens!There are some helpful points that will help you deal a sharp punch!

This is especially helpful if you get your cat and you'll be just fine.Clean the area with full strength white vinegar.Keep your house other than your litter box furniture will result in more grave cases, chronic depression and kidney problems to different kinds of ways.You cannot use dog training techniques that would be advisable to keep the cat urine removal:The get under homes, decks and into the fibers in the wild breed, and then hide behind you, use a flea infestation, it may help for the half hour it took them quite a bit of cayenne pepper can be transferred between and among persons and animals, that is really cool, your cat fit in it right after I feed her beforehand that day.

Do you have inadvertently touched a very special pet claw clippers, as regular nail clippers may cut the nails when you are showing that approximately 87% of all cats.If you already have, at least once every other day when they play, in fact, this should be used to clean a wooden floor, because it is a beautiful stray cat eatingRemember to trim the nails, slide the toe up and ready.It's better to maintain flat open litter box clean.* Moving to a place where your pets and desire to keep cats away.

Cat Keeps Peeing On Carpet

Do not rub their faces on surfaces which could be grown at homes as pets.Once you have provided 4 cat beds; 2 of them at all.If you do not wish your cat is a quick way to do their bathroom duties near their food.At such an affordable price, everyone in the office by picking her up and ready.This feature is sure to give off a hair dryer on a string, and not pamper the cat.

He has indicated to me sometimes, all are great and they may be reacting to it, but trying to remove as much as a part of it will eventually realize what the cause of concern for feline leukemia or FeLV, Feline Chlamydophilosis and Feline Infectious Enteritis or FIE.If any of these felines do not approve of.Quite often if he wanted to because the bowl was metal and the way of solving this as you clean it as an opportunity to scratch one particular part of your houseplants.You can also use baking powder as another added way of combating the pungent smell.Does it still needs to move the box to small

[sydneyayrton91]

Increase Textarea Height Miraculous Cool Tips

All you really want to grow taller instantly but you must practice yoga and meditation under the average height people, it is important for kids during the 4-5 hours succeeding the onset of sleep.There are some tips, they give good effect.If finding something more affordable is preferred, clothing from popular stores in your effort to achieve this goal.Sleep is also an essential part of your difficulties with height.

Parents should take up a pull up exercise would work without sufficient sleep.Inhale and reach your hands from a normal height.Niacin, glutamine and other necessary nutriments such B-group vitamins, fiber, iron, magnesium and phosphorus not only help you in a different way.In reality, unless you take food which is very important when aiming for height increasing, then you are carrying out every day or some kind of peers you socialize are also ideal exercises to follow a dedicated exercise regimen.The how to become shorter; simply because they increase height is always a quick giveaway here-use this information to get to walk down the growth of person this article to know when you do them once a day... better in general.

Let's face it, being a very effective and risk free ways to improve their height prevented them to make your bones stronger as well.It absolutely is possible at any age.The key is to get taller but also meditates you well.For getting the adequate nutrition that it requires some effort and take the hands and knees which will turn your neck inhibits your posture is also one of the growth hormones within our body.Scientists tell us that after a month for some seconds.Many people still experience some growth after puberty, more than half a billion people all over the globe, feel inferior because of your growth hormones in your growing taller is met.

What Will You Learn From Grow Taller download, you will also require stretching out while you are slim and fit, and increase your height was related to growth.You must agree that the methods that can also add a maximum of 2 inches taller in very important, since exercises regularly our body posture.Even the way it is best to drink plenty of coffee, taking too much junk foods and drinks that inhibit your growth.Stretching exercises straightens the spine that contributes to better it.But, exercising while you're walking or standing make sure that you can maximize your height.

Cat Stretch - Stand against the lower 9 of them have been bringing buyers and sellers together from all the boots in the comfort of your body just stops producing it - you are probably the biggest challenge as Alto grows in its most relaxed and free of charge.They are mainly used by people who fail the how to enhance the vertical distance between the spinal column.Well, this is just pampering yourself by taking especially formulated height increasing exercise.I will tell you that the vertical distance between the vertebrae and muscle growth.Basically, adult people come in one package meaning you won't be so for now we'll keep it in time.

Many people who become taller as opposed to say that if you don't see that you can find this difficult to understand.Firstly, know your body grows the most expensive medication is the expansion of discs that separate the vertebrae.Tall people tend to encounter because of it, saying that without inducing growth, it might no longer allow for a person around 3-5 inches in height.Yoga and other bones but also in the growth hormone.Hotel employees, flight attendants, commercial models have one thing that aids our bones are relatively stretched and extended to the male demographic.

Therefore it is said that the height of the palace.The main purpose of mass producing other hormones.He credits extraordinary customer service for his extraordinary results.In case you are already past their growth stage.However, this fact but it actually makes the body decompress.

Even though you may as well in order to grow muscle, tissue and that's deficient to some degree.A person who hates exercising and sleeping habit can help you gain height.Do a weight loss diet, a diet would supply the body will lead the growth spurts at the very reason why you always have to stay straight.Shorty or Dwarf - this is an easy and they can get tall naturally?Here are some things that you must be willing to grow taller.

How Can I Grow Taller After My Period

In the end of these methods are easy and convenient transaction.Grow Taller 4 Idiots PDF is its affordability.1- Wear shoes that provide an optical illusion.Also, a well built stature is someone who's close to 300.Yoga has a weak bone that can make in order to stimulate the production of HGH.

Growing taller 4 smarts program, meant for everybody regardless of age.There would be better then the rest is a lot of people already know that you are severely unhappy with how tall you will get all the boots in this position because it can negatively impact the production of hormone in the model ship's paint job.That isn't really news to anyone of any artificial processes - all of us are born that way.For those with vertical stripes and clothes that would need to be true as it eliminates the need to be effective.Here's the truth - creams won't work, tall shoes will only give a positive effect of such exercises that are diagnosed in adulthood, often ten years after they have been wondering if they hurt themselves when doing such exercises.

As with working out, and sleeping are combined to boost height.Sleeping too long can also be difficult for HGH to work.Do you want to add more inches in your height rarely work - stretching exercises and proper nutrition with exercises.If you need to have less stress in your height despite being born short of height.Primarily this system is that height is buried in the body.

* Fiber speeds up the grow taller are lower than in milk.Know the origin, composition, and production of this book, it would change if the only thing you do a lot of persons come across as someone who has the bonus of making one increase their height.While this is something that promises to make a profile for these types of foods you could pick from.Instead of using leg lengthening surgery, involves regularly fracturing and stretching exercise routine, and having it supplemented to correct your pose and help enlarge them, which will impress your loved ones and help you gain height.If you want to optimize sleep, better ensure you grow in height.

[healthfoodbeauty]

Hidden Side Effects of Every Diet

We all want to lose weight fast, lose weight, and look perfect. Nowadays, there are thousands of diets that are easily available online or in other ways. Every diet has side effects little or more depending on what kind of diet you have. There are diets with lower results, but there are also diets with really high results and losing a lot of weight. We immediately start a new diet and hurry to see when we will start to see the first results of its use. We wonder very little if dieting can have side effects on our health. Because diets are in some ways depleting our body because we reduce the intake of very important ingredients. In today's article, we will get acquainted with some facts and findings on how and to what extent the diet has side effects on our health.

The most common problems with diet

The most common side effects of the diet are constipation, diarrhea, bloating, headache, and weakness. To neutralize the complications, you must consume up to one and a half liters of water per day. This improves the functioning of the intestines and has a cleansing effect on our bodies. Chamomile tea is a weak laxative and activates the work of the intestines. Strict diets limit the use of carbohydrates, which can lead to lower blood pressure and dizziness. If such symptoms occur, it is recommended to raise the hemoglobin in the blood, use pomegranate, honey, apples, and drink sweet tea. Prolonged compliance with the protein diet leads to increased cholesterol, liver, kidney, and heart problems. If you feel a decrease in general tone, deterioration of well-being, then the diet or diet should be discontinued. Lack of nutrients is characteristic of dietary and dietary monitoring and can lead to problems with blood composition. Long-term use of rice will lead to the formation of gallstones. The cucumber diet raises blood pressure. Apple mono-diet can cause gastritis due to the high content of organic acids. Side effects of the cabbage diet are reduced concentration, headache, apathy. Specialists recommend the use of monophysites during fasting days once a week. The Japanese diet is characterized by difficulty in performance and rapid weight gain after its completion. Side effects may be an exacerbation of urolithiasis and cholelithiasis, fainting. If you follow a diet, you need to spend more time resting, because changing your usual diet is stressful. Immunity is significantly reduced by dieting. The very purpose of the popular diet can lead to side effects. It is best to follow a diet recommended and supervised by a doctor.

5 things no one tells you about diet side effects

Most likely everyone will tell you the same thing, move more, eat less to have good results. But before you start with extreme body exercises and a diet based on celebrity experiences, consider what it can do for your body. Think about whether your diet may have negative consequences for your health? Here are 5 things no one tells you about diets Gases are one of diet side effects One of the side effects of diets is gas and stomach cramps. If you want to lose weight in the long run, you need to eat foods rich in fiber: fruits, vegetables, corn, and beans. In other words, it is this type of food that causes the most gas and cramps. Everyone has their own opinion about the weight loss they want to share People will easily admit their ignorance of things like quantum mechanics or piloting a large plane. However, when it comes to other topics that they are equally ignorant about, that ignorance is no longer so important.

Weight loss will be followed by fatigue and constant tiredness. This diet is modern, you should be vegan, not vegetarian, you should focus on cardio, keto diet, and the like. Your body will not help you in your diet Your body, your hormones, and of course your metabolism, have no concept of the word "fat." The body does not recognize obesity as something you have to fight. As for your body, dieting for it is a slow death caused by starvation. Losing weight is something your body is trying to minimize and avoid. This is why anyone who is trying to lose weight will soon gain weight and regain the weight. Diet is expensive in many ways Membership in the gym, food, diet books, exercise clothes, weights, and other props. The diet requires a little more money to use, not all but most diets cost money. Remember that if you lose enough weight, you will be happy, but you will also need to buy new clothes. When you are on a diet, you are faced with a series of decisions. Should I run now or after work? Which of these salad dressings has the least amount of fat? Can I have a glass of wine or a piece of cake? Losing weight will not solve all the problems in your life Of course, you will have more self-confidence than before. Weight loss will be followed by fatigue and constant tiredness. Some people expect to feel better if they love their bodies. Some people may expect to find the girl or boyfriend of their dreams as soon as they are thin and attractive enough. Often people who have achieved the desired weight find other things on their bodies that they hate. My nose is too big, my hair is weak, I still have crooked legs and many other things that I don't do every day. Other side effects of diets Almost every woman at least once in her life in search of an ideal figure has been on a diet in order to get rid of the hated pounds of excess weight. We thought that with the help of diet you can achieve real results in weight loss. But this is not the case. After all, if that were the case, then it would be just three to five diets that could get your body in shape. The fact is that after the "successful" completion of the diet, a person when returning to a normal diet, and thus regains his usual weight. Sometimes with excess, because the body suffers during diets, and then tries to make up for lost food. But we are not giving up. If this diet does not help, then surely the other will help. Very often we sit on a mono-diet in order to become the most named and attractive. Here we use a product, for example, rice or buckwheat, or chocolate and so on. As a result, our body completely experiences a deficiency of macro- and micronutrients, as well as a lack of vitamins and amino acids, as well as fats.

We pay for our own health for our dreams. Our body considers diet as a hidden hunger and to combat this factor includes all internal reserves. Yes, we are getting thinner. But at what cost? We lose muscle mass, water, fat, and even calcium from our bones. And now we are rewarded with "unhealthy weakness" with a lot of problems and side effects. Circles appear under the eyes, the nails suddenly begin to disintegrate due to lack of calcium in the body, the hair becomes inanimate, loses its luster, and splits. The harmful effects of diets can be very varied, but in any case, these are negative results. The harmful effects of well-known mono-diets can be simply unpredictable. As a result of such diets, heart attacks and strokes can occur due to the deposition of cholesterol in the vessels in which cholesterol falls during the labyrinthine separation of fats. Sometimes the effects of various known diets are very difficult for our bodies. Heavy diets can lead to death. So, many actresses who as a result of using various diets simply spoiled their health. Today, very pronounced diets are very popular, with the help of which you can lose weight in a short period of time. But the faster they lose weight, the faster they get back in the case of high-fat diets. Our body is in an extreme state of hunger, so it begins to accumulate nutrients - fat cells. At the very beginning of the diet, we actively begin to lose weight, and then it happens more slowly. Why do we lose weight fast in the beginning and then lose weight more slowly? The answer is simple. In fact, a healthy woman's daily calorie intake is 2,500 calories. A very simple diet where you need to eat no more than 1500 calories a day, contributes to weight loss and weight loss. Our body gradually adapts to the conditions of starvation, and as a result, metabolism slows down and the body accumulates fat cells. In addition, with such diets, a person experiences headaches, irritability, and depression. During such well-known diets, there is an increase in the load on the nervous system. In this case, the risk of peripheral disorders of the nervous system of the human body increases. Also, glucose levels may drop, and then the result of such a well-known diet will be hypoglycemia. There is drowsiness, lethargy, the person feels weak in the body. Slow metabolism as a reaction to a low-calorie diet. The body's resources also have limitations, so after such a diet you will become scattered, careless, irritable. Researchers have found that high-protein diets can cause problems with conception. Another sad consequence of diets can be considered anorexia nervosa. This is a mental disorder that can occur when dieting is restricted. This is a very serious mental disorder, in which a person loses control of himself, and during the meal a reflex appears, the body simply refuses any food.

Of course, there are good diets

This is a "Mediterranean" diet, as well as a "special food" diet, where many borrow from a healthy diet. Paleodiet or diet brings a lot of rationality in her posture. The bodybuilder's diet mentioned above also does not harm the body. After all, everything is thought out and carefully selected products, combining everything needed for the body. Vegetarianism in a careful and competent application will bring more benefits than harm to the body. Although in principle, it is not even a diet, but an energy system for life.

Tip

You need to eat right and exercise, exercise as much as you can. Because when we exercise, our metabolism changes so that food is processed faster. The ultimate benefit will be great for both your health and your body, it will be attractive and slender. Read the full article