#i must go to sleep before i crumble to dust

[haomnyangz]

UNTOLD ENHYPEN, DIRECTOR. LEE CHOONG HYUN (2024)

[oddsconvert]

I really wanna see Joshy being forced to stay awake for days. He gets so desperate to sleep that he even sweet talks Felix, ya know, desperate times.

Exhaustion clings to Josh like a leech. It feeds off his vigour and drains away any remnant of lucidity. He teeters on the edge of collapse; his body totally spent and mind shrouded in fog. Just as his heavy eyelids flutter shut for what must be the millionth time, a shock of electricity winds around his throat like a serpent, jolting him awake with a warbled cry. Josh’s hands fly to his throat, tingling and near-numb fingers scratch and desperately rip at the collar strapped to his neck. He chokes on a silent scream as hot-pain streams through his veins. 

“Eyes on me,” Felix orders with a sickly-sweet grin, he fidgets with the shock collar remote in his palm before pocketing it. “Oh, am I boring you, darling?”

Josh can barely see Felix through the tears brimming his bloodshot eyes. His jittering body slumps and his head lolls against his chest, drool slipping from his lips.

“Please -” Josh croaks, his voice coarse like sandpaper. He gulps down a sob. “Please - I - I can’t-”

-can't stand to stay awake for a second longer. Countless days and sleepless nights have blurred and bled into one waking nightmare. Josh can't remember when he was last allowed to simply fall into the sweet surrender of sleep, nor can he remember how it feels to just let his eyes slip shut and his brain switch off - his only true escape from Felix.

It had never occurred to him that sleep was a luxury that he could have denied…

“You can. You will. Remember this is your choice, my sweet. Not mine.”

What’s left of Josh’s mind races. It doesn’t make a lick of sense. He isn’t afforded choice, that was a long-learned lesson, taught through blood, sweat and tears. If he had the freedom of choice, he wouldn’t be here, huddled in the corner - fatigue eating away at him. The other night, when Josh begged Felix through breathless, hiccupping sobs that he didn’t want to sleep with Felix, he couldn’t sleep with Felix, he was terrified of the thought of going to bed and what that would bring…did he have a choice then?

Josh’s eyes suddenly and uncontrollably roll into the back of his head, his body growing limp once again. Felix clicks his fingers against the bridge of Josh’s nose to snap him back. Josh groans in weary frustration. 

“If - If you… llloved me, you’d let me sl-sleep-” Josh mumbles without a thought to the words leaving his lips. He doesn’t clock the way Felix sees red in that moment, steam nearly blowing out his ears.

“Stop that,” Felix snarls. Fists clenched tight. “What have we talked about, Josh? About you manipulating me-”

How is it that Josh always winds up the villain and never the victim? His attempts at survival and bids for peace deemed calculated and cunning? If he had the wherewithal, maybe he’d think of his mum saying it’s like “the pot calling the kettle black” and snicker to himself… instead he blinks blankly and at a snail's pace.

“You know the deal,” Felix chastises, “It’s quite simple, really. Nearly as simple as you-”

That hits Josh like a blow. Like a sucker punch to the gut. He slumps further against the wall, his head rolling back as if his neck were made of lead.

“You sleep with me, or not at all. It’s your choice, baby. Deprive yourself into a slow madness… or just let me hold you through the night.”

Josh knows. He’s not the fucking idiot Felix makes him out to be. He knows deep down that he’ll never win the battle of the wills - not against Felix. He’s grasping onto consciousness by a string: his eyes feel like acid has been poured into them - his body feels like it might crumble to dust. Josh has to give Felix what he wants, to get what he needs. It’s a transaction. Nothing more. That’s what he’ll tell himself. 

A memory foam mattress. Warm blankets. A night’s sleep. Is it worth it?

He forces himself onto all fours, even as his muscles scream and throb in protest. He crawls across the filthy floor until he reaches Felix and crumbles at Felix’s feet. His pounding head rests against Felix’s leg and he dares to close his eyes. A chesty sigh stretches into a yawn.

“I-I’m sorry…for-for playing up…” Josh mutters miserably. “I-I don’t know what came over me - I don’t know why I do this, I just -....take me to bed? Please?” He blinks up at Felix, batting his long but tear-drenched lashes.

Felix hums, carding his hand through Josh’s locks of hair, “Change of heart, my beautiful boy?”

Josh nods, but it just makes his nausea increase ten-fold. “I - I want to sleep…with you. In our bed. I wa-want you to hold me…through the night.”

For a second, Josh thinks that maybe Felix is right - he might be manipulative. He’ll say whatever he has to, to get whatever he wants. He’s playing Felix like a fiddle and he prays it’s working. Josh pulls himself to his knees, his eyes shining at Felix and his hands together in supplication.

“I’ll make it up to you. I promise. I’ll be so good. I’ll be…complaisant-”

“Complaisant?” Felix purrs, and he palms himself through his trousers. Josh has to fight back bile. But this is the price he has to pay. “You better not be teasing me, baby.”

“You’re too good to me,” Josh sniffles, “Too patient. I don’t deserve it-”

“No. You do not.”

Felix scoops Josh up into a bridal carry, as though he’s as light as a feather. It makes him feel so impossibly small and frail. The sudden swooping motion makes his stomach churn and the world twist. 

“And I’ll make sure you never forget it.”

[sillysillygoofygoose]

A Beach day with Nanami Kento Part Two!

MDNI!!! EXPLICIT CONTENT AHEAD!

Cw: Smut, breeding, daddy kink (only once), small mention of death.

Thank you all for your love on the first part 💕

Link to Part One!!

Previously:

"You'd be a good mama. I wove you." He says softly, you melt, touched by how appreciative he is.

Kento let's out an audible 'aw'.

"Love you too, Jiji." You respond, rubbing his back soothingly.

Kento was fighting his tongue not to repeat Yuji's words to you.

...

After a couple of hours in the blazing sun, Yuji decided that he was ready to go and ready to go now. The boy aggressively throws down the small plastic shovel that he was previously using to pack down the top of his crumbling sand castle, catching the attention of both you and Kento.

"Ughhh, I wanna be home. Dada, Y/N, can we please go?? It sooo hot." He stomps away, abandoning the small kingdom the three of you had just spent the upper part of forty-five minutes building. You hear Kento sigh, watching as his little boy hurriedly grabs scattered towels, angerily stuffing them into the open beach bag.

"Yuji, honey, please calm down." You reason, beginning to stand up and dust off the sand that stuck to your sunscreen-slicked legs.

In his small fit of rage, Yuji stubs his toe on the metalic support pole of the beach umbrella, falling backward dramatically. He tilts his small head back and begins full on sobbing, the pain in his little toe and the rough sand coating his body being the cherry on top for his building agitation.

"Alright." Kento breaths out, collecting the toys that built the mighty Nanami Empire.

Nanami Kento is a very patient man. However, one of his greatest pitfalls as a father is that he can not stand crying children. The high-pitched screams make him want to pull on his ears until they detach from the side of his skull. Luckily, that's where you came in. You fit into the equation like a missing puzzle piece.

You hike over to the small child, who is now looking up at you, big puppy dog eyes evident of exhaustion, tears streaking his chubby cheeks.

His stubby arms reach out for you, cries increasing in volume. You grab him off the sandy floor, hushing him quietly, bouncing him up and down softly. He clings onto you like his life depends on it, quickly calming down, sobs turning into soft sniffles.

Kento looks up from reorganizing the bag, shocked. How does she do it? God, how perfect can a woman be? Even when Yuji was throwing a completely blown out of proportion temper tantrum (as toddlers do), you didn't even huff, gently embracing the emotional boy.

Nanami smiled, relieved that his son found comfort and quieted down. He finishes packing up the rest of your items, walking over to his favorite pair. Yuji had passed out on your shoulder, a ghost of a smile present on his sleeping face. You're leaning your head on the smaller figure, the essence of a kind mother radiating off of the loving image.

Kento rests his hand on your upper back, catching your attention. You meet his eyes, staring into the honey brown souls.

"You really are so perfect for us. Such a beautiful girl, too." He smoothly expresses, for once in his life, speaking before thinking. Before calculating.

"You really think so?" You whisper, gazing softly at his lips.

"Mhm." He responds, beginning to lean in...

"Mama?" You hear a small mumble from your chest, tearing your focus away from the man next to you. Yuji is still dead asleep, slightly smacking his lips before nuzzling deeper into your neck.

"He must be dreaming about you... come. Let's get him home." Kento snaps back to reality, starting to grab the heaves of crap he somehow has to transport back to the car. You lightly pat Yuji on the back, almost as a 'Gee, thanks kid'.

...

The ride back to the Nanami residence was silent for the most part, both you and Kento just as tired out as Yuji. You felt yourself slightly drifting off when Nanami's large hand landed on your mid thigh. All you remember was gripping onto one of his long fingers before falling asleep yourself.

You woke on a suede couch, the fabric cool on your skin. You take in the familiar surroundings of the luxury condo, wrapped in a blanket that is busy combating the cool air conditioning.

"Oh good, you're awake." Kento walks into the spacely living room, two cups of tea in hand. He handed one to you before sitting across from you, studying your tired face.

"Don't worry, he's fed, showered, and asleep upstairs." Nanami smiles, picking up on the small look of worry present on your angelic features. He heard a small sigh of relief as you delicately lift the fragile, hand painted porcelain to your begonia-shaded lips.

"Thank you again, Kento. I really did have fun. You two are so special to me." It's Kento's turn to blush, his name rolling off your tongue like it was made to say it.

"Of course. You're really special yourself... you'd be a wonderful mother in the future. Have you ever thought about having your own kids?" Kento took a chance with the slightly personal question.

You look up at him, once again holding eye contact. Something in the tone of his was different. Almost suggestive, enticing to you.

"Uhm, yeah, yeah, actually. I would love to have kids." You stutter out, slightly taken a back.

"How many?" Rapid fire questions. Are you being interviewed for the job again?

"Hm, I'm not really sure. I think that's something that would come with time." You respond, unsure. Kento hums, seemly pleased with your answer. However, you have your own questions.

"Mr. Nana- I mean, Kento... what happened to Yuji's mother? If you don't mind me asking." A deep sigh exits the older man's mouth, making you immediately regret your question.

"Never mind, I'm so sorry... that was extremely inappropriate of me to ask." You immediately backtrack, covering your mouth, deciding you should've just stayed curious.

"No, no, don't apologize. It's alright. We separated before we knew she was pregnant with Yuji. We tried to make it work, but the flaws always overshadowed the strengths. She... she passed during childbirth. It really was a shame." Kento explains solemnly, clearing his throat as his eyes focus on the tea leaves left in his cup.

"Oh, I see. I really am sorry, Kento... sorry for your loss." Feeling your face drop, you quietly express your sympathy, the air around you thickens, becoming suffocating.

"It's quite alright. We get along just fine, don't you think?" He offers up a small smile, warming up the cool room. You nod, bowing your head as he takes your empty cup from your hand, walking it to the kitchen sink.

"You still look sleepy, let's head to bed, okay?" He turns, reassuringly rubbing your shoulder, guiding you to stand up. You furrow your brows, looking over your shoulder at the discarded blanket and pillow on the large couch.

"Don't be silly, you're not going to sleep on the couch... it's not good for your back. You can join me in bed. If that's alright with you, of course." Reading your thoughts before you even articulated them. You simply nodded again, still shaken up from the small feeling of guilt deep in your stomach.

...

Kento lended you a baby blue, oversized night shirt, watching as you walked out of the bathroom suite, the fabric falling almost to your knees. Your hair was still damp and slightly strewn after washing the smell of sunscreen and salt water off of your tired body. You looked as beautiful as ever to him.

The two of you crawl into the crisp sheets set atop of the memory foam mattress.

"Goodnight, Y/N." Kento speaks into the muted atmosphere of the shared king-sized bed.

"Goodnight. See you in the morning." You mumble, eyelids heavy and fighting to stay open.

...

Your eyes flutter open at the sound of a harsh beeping ringing out in the restful ambiance of the room. Eying the angry alarm clock, you attempt to sit up, stopped by a heavy weight on your waist. Kento has his strong arms wrapped around you, face nuzzled into your back. You shift in his arms, body heating up as his grip tightens at your scurrying. You gently glide your fingers through his blonde, disheveled locks, grazing your nails gently across his scalp.

"Kento... Kento, it's time to wake up." Your hand travels from his head to his neck and down to his muscular bicep, shaking him awake. He sits up, freeing you of his warm embrace, reading the alarm clock... four a.m.

Pushing multiple buttons, he stops the blaring alarm before laying right back down, pulling your back even closer to his bare chest.

"Kento, you need to get ready for work." You remind him, gently squeezing his forearm.

"Mmm, I know. Just lay with me, Y/N, baby. Just for a bit." He slightly presses his hips against yours, punctuating his request with his prominent bulge. You feel yourself clench around nothing as he groans, the pressure in his sweatpants building.

"Do you... do you want me to help you with that, Mr. Nanami?" Your voice shaking, anxious that you somehow got the wrong idea. He hums, moving your hand from his forearm to his growing erection.

You turn around in his arms, taking in his sharp features as you begin palming him through his thin sweatpants before completely pulling out his length. He looked unreal. Strong eyes softened, half lidded in pleasure. His normally stoic expression is broken, mouth hanging open, cheekbones tinted pink. Your fingertips lightly grazed the tip, sending sensations of euphoria through his still drowsy body. Slowly, you lower your head, keeping your eyes on his blissed-out expressions. You place kitten licks all over the head of his cock, each lick becoming progressively more lengthy. Before he can blink, you're taking his entire length down your throat, feeling each thick vein on your tongue.

His dick is just as gorgeous as he is. He was average length, but he made up for it in thickness. Your tiny hand can barely grip around the whole thing. The shaft a shade darker than his light tan skin, the head a blush pink. One prominent vein travels completely from the base, stopping right before his tip.

You bob your head up and down, small, muffled chokes escaping from your throat. Sucking in your cheeks, you create a strong suction around his member, making him buck his hips and moan.

"Oh fuck, Y/N. Stop, stop, stop, I'm gonna cum." Kento hurriedly blurts out. You try to keep your mouth on him, but he laces his strong fingers through your messy hair, pulling you off his dick with a 'pop'. You pout, eager to feel his cum hit your taste buds.

"C'mon baby girl, don't you want me to cum inside you?" He slurs, sitting up. You nod as he flips you over, hovering over you. His nimble fingers circle your clit, the cotton fabric of your panties sticking to your wet pussy. Wasting no time, he pulls the soiled fabric down your soft legs, almost salivating at the flower blooming between your spread legs.

"How about I give you your babies now, huh? Make you a pretty little mommy..." Kento whispers, nipping at your ear as he slides his erection up and down your aching cunt.

"Ah, please, please, Daddy, give me a baby. I want you to breed me. I need you."

That was all Nanami needed, pushing his fat dick inside your desperate pussy. He lets out a deep guttural groan, only for it to clash with your heavenly moan. You prop your legs up over his broad shoulders as he grips onto your hips, pushing himself as deep as he can reach. Your velvety walls entice him to snap his hips into yours harder, pounding you into the mattress.

"Fuck, wanted this for so long, sweetheart. So. Fucking. Long. You feel incredible, baby." He moans, trying to keep his breath steady. The two of you were in pleasured bliss together, the skin on skin contact overwhelming. You have found your nirvana.

"Oh Kento, you fuck me so good. God, I'm going to- I'm going to..." You throw your head back, clinging onto his shoulders.

"Go ahead, pretty. Cum for me." He cups your cheek, forcing you to gaze lustfully into his sharp honey eyes.

Everything goes white as the headboard bangs against the wall, Nanami fucking you through your orgasm. He follows close after you, the feeling of your soaking cunt clenching around him sending him over the edge.

He pushed your legs to your chest as he pulled out, holding onto your feet, hypnotized by the sight of his thick, white, creamy cum oozing out of your swollen pussy.

Licking his lips, he collected his own cum on his tongue, moving up to your fucked-out face. You open your mouth wide, allowing his tongue to intrude, mixing the combination of his cum and spit in your mouth.

He kissed your forehead, leading you to the bathroom, giving you privacy as he allowed you to take care of your business.

You settle back into bed, slipping on Kento's shirt as he went to shower, his rough fucking tiring you out.

You hear the bedroom door squeak open, revealing a small boy, hair sticking up in five different directions.

"Dada? What was that bang? Did something fall owver?.. Oh, good morwning, Y/N!" Yuji ran over to you, jumping onto the bed and cuddling into your side, quickly forgetting about the sound that startled him awake.

"Good morning, sweetie!" You held his small hand, disregarding his prior remarks.

...

Nanami steps out of the bathroom, a towel hanging from his wide hips. His heart melts at the sight in front of him... you and Yuji deep asleep, holding each other. He walks over to the two of you, big hands engulfing both of your smaller heads. His kisses both of your foreheads before getting dressed for work.

~Four year time skip~

"Mom, Mama! Hurry up! You have to see what Daddy taught me!" Yuji excitedly exclaims, running toward the ocean the second you reached the beach. You place your hand on your prominent baby bump, struggling to walk on the shifty sand under you.

"You doing okay, sweetheart?" Your husband Kento supports your back as he holds your hand, following your kid to the shore.

"Never been better." You respond, waddling along.

Eventually, you reach where your son was skimboarding on the thin waves crashing under his toes. He falls but quickly gets up, waving at you and his father. You both wave back like proud parents, smiling at your pride and joy. Kento pulls you close to him by your rounded waist, kissing the top of your head. You rest your head on his chest, smiling up at him. He smiles back.

[lipeg]

Bad Jaune had left Ever Alter. He had barely taken the first step in Remmant. He was old again.

Jaune: I should have killed that girl

Weiss was jumping for joy in her mind.

Yang: Look on the bright side—

Yang's sentence was interrupted as Jaune armor crumbled to dust.

Underneath the armor.

Jaune was wearing a black shirt that seemed to be clinging to his body, showing off his muscle very good work.

His arms were strong and huge, full of scars.

Jaune looked at team RWBY.

Weiss had her mouth open and was drooling as blood spurted from her nose.

Blake's face turned red.

Ruby just blinked.

Yang: You are now Dilf! A, your sword shining

Yang pointed to Jaune's sword that had fallen to the ground.

Jaune turned to see that his weapon was indeed emitting a strong glow.

His eyes widened for an instant.

He grabbed his weapon and said something very low.

Jaune: Calm down

All except Blake, who was confused by what Jaune had said.

His weapon stopped glowing, Jaune sighed.

Jaune stood, holding the weapon in his left hand. He wasn't holding his weapon by the hilt, he was holding it by the sheath.

Because he didn't have the accessory to hold his weapon.

Ruby: What happened to your armor?

Jaune: Ruby, that armor should have been destroyed a long time ago

Ruby: ?

Jaune: That armor was rubbish, I wish I had gotten rid of it long ago and replaced it with a new one.

Yang: So.... Why didn't you do it?

Jaune: I was cursed

Ruby: By whom?

Jaune: A cursed creature that I should have killed at the first opportunity. That thing still laughs! Just remembering it makes me angry

His eyes began to glow for a moment.

Weiss: What was the curse

Jaune calmed down.

Jaune: I could never take off my armor. If my armor was destroyed, I would die instantly. Also, the armor would lose its resistance with every hit I took

Blake: But your armor is still quite good

Jaune: It's because of my aura

RWBY: What?

Jaune: It is serious? I was in that place for years, do you think I had no training?

RWBY:.... 😶

Jaune: I spent most of my youth training to improve my fighting skills. This allowed me to develop my skills and to evolve my Semblante

Yang: Then why were you so easy to defeat?

Jaune: Curses also diminish my skills a little

Weiss: Wait a minute. You said your armor didn't break because of your aura right?

Jaune: Yeah

Weiss: But that should be impossible. And who was this creature that cursed you, and why did he or she do it?

Jaune: Why didn't I sleep with her

...

...

Yang: She was sexy?

Blake: YANG!

Yang: There must be a reason he doesn't want to have sex

Weiss: Let's get back to the main topic. Who is this woman

Jaune: None of you know her, her name is not found in any fairy tale

Ruby: So who is she, where did you find her

Jaune: She called herself Merlin. I found her while exploring the underground of that place

Weiss: Does that place have a underground?

Jaune: Yes, I would say or I could say that the underground is better than the surface. I had a good time down there and discovered and learned some really interesting things there.

Yang: Come on, does it really matter if she was sexy or not?

Blake: YANG!

Yang: THAT!?

Jaune: *sigh* Yes, Yang, she was sexy

Yang: So why didn't you sleep with her?

Jaune: Why didn't I want

Yang: You are a shame

Jaune: Have you ever looked in the mirror?

Yang: It is clear! I am wonderful, there is no one like me

Jaune started laughing.

Yang: I told the funny guy

Jaune: Yes, in that one I saw the most beautiful women there are

Yang: I doubt

Jaune pulled his scroll out of his pocket.

Jaune: So see

Team RWBY was impressed.

Blake looked at Yang.

Yang looked at Blake.

The two of them were nothing compared to this woman.

Jaune put his scroll in his pocket.

Jaune: Let's go before we get caught in a sandstorm

Ruby and Yang were crying in their uncle's arms.

Weiss was reunited with her family.

Jaune...

Ren:...

Nora:...

Ren:...

Nora:...

Ren:...

Nora:...

Ren:...

Nora:...

Jaune: You're not going to say anything?

Nora: What do you want us to say!?

Ren: Nora is right, we…… We don't expect you like this

Jaune: Like this?

Nora: You look taller!

Jaune: I'm still 180

Nora: You've become a wall of muscles!

Jaune: I'm not even that muscular

Nora: That beard and that ponytail and... That's Pyrrha's

Nora pointed to the piece of cloth in his hair.

Jaune: * Sigh * Yes, that's what was left of her, I couldn't save the rest. I went through hell on earth

Nora and Ren looked at their former leader and saw a man breaking.

Nora: Jaune, can I take a picture of you?

Jaune: Can

When Jaune crossed his arms, Nora ran very quickly and lifted his shirt.

Jaune had a well-defined six-pack and a few scars, but there was one that stood out.

Four horizontal claw marks on the abdomen.

Nora took the photo very quickly before Jaune could do anything.

Jaune looked at Ren.

Ren raised his shoulders and then lowered them because he didn't understand anything.

Jaune: Nora who did you send this photo to?

With a smile on her face, Nora showed her scroll.

His eyes widened a little.

Saphron Cotta-Arc

Single mothers of Atlas

[protagaster]

Part 4 of the Warrior!Penelope Swap AU

DID YOU GUYS SEE THE NEWS!?

VENGEANCE SAGA RELEASES ON OCTOBER 31ST!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

Editor/Co-Author: @somereaderinblue (GeminiWillow on Ao3)

(Cross-Posted on Ao3)

Remember Them

528 left under her command… 

~

The scent in the air was full of metallic must. A river stream of thick red liquid flowed down the dirt floor, forming itself into a small lake made with that oh-so precious liquid life. 

Pebbles scurried down the cave walls, broken apart from the crumbling rock they were once one with. A cloud of dust, a combined mixture of rubble and sand, slowly built itself up and infiltrated the entirety of the cave. 

The origin of all this havoc, the very reason behind this devastation, slept soundly on the cave ground without a worry in the world. A cyclops, his one eyelid lowered in complete and utter peace; not a single nightmare plagued him once his eye shut.

If one had just arrived they would have not known of the events that transpired mere seconds ago. 

They would not have known this cyclops to have declared war on 600 soldiers. They would not have seen him wielding a club, striking and killing 72 women in the name of the livestock they needed so desperately to keep going. They would not have dove out the way of his collapsing figure, the impact of his fall so severe it left devastating consequences to his cave. 

Or perhaps they would have. After all, isn’t it obvious from first glance when looking into the eyes of a monster?

“...captain...”

Penelope stood mere feet before that sleeping cyclops. She couldn’t move. Frozen in her step, every muscle in her body painfully constrained… 

72. 

72 women she had kept safe in Troy and yet couldn't keep safe on the way home. 

72 women whose screams kept ringing in her ears.

72, including her Circes. 

“...captain…”

Penelope no longer felt like herself.

Right now, at this very moment, the captain was nothing more than a shell; a shell that found pain in its wholeness, for her kin were reduced to fragments left to rot like rubbish, like nothing. By the gods Circes wouldn't have a funeral or an obol, how would she get to the Underworld-

Suddenly, Penelope felt something from the real world make contact with her shell. 

Ctimene gripped her captain’s arm and pulled her close, forcing the leader to look away from the dreaming monster.

“Captain!”

Ctimene’s voice, finally louder than the silence, snapped Penelope out of her detachment. 

“We must move quickly, we don't have much time.” Penelope spoke with a monotone voice, not an ounce of emotion on her features. 

She spared a fleeting glance to the abandoned amphorae, the wine vessel from which the Cyclops drank. 

“He didn't notice I mixed lotus in his wine.” 

Penelope was still in a strange state, one she’s never experienced before in all her life. But, by some miracle, her limbs were no longer anchored to her state of mind.

She wasn't ready for battle. She was ready for vengeance.

She released herself from Ctimene’s grip. 

Penelope moved to walk past her best friend. The only one she had now. 

“Mark my words now, this is not the end…”

Ctimene, whose red puffy eyes were only just beginning to clear, looked up with a gaze filled only with worry and concern for Penelope, whose eyes were distant and far away. 

Ctimene placed a hand, so small but so scarred, so strong and yet so gentle, on her sister’s shoulder. 

“But captain, what'll we do with our fallen friends?”

Penelope paused, both from her sister’s action and words. 

72 women fallen at the hands of hunger and hubris. And yet it was 1 whom both women knew this question referred to. 

There she was, not so close but not far enough, laying on the dirt floor; pale and dirty and cold. Her signature ribbon was stained with her own blood; the light pink did not mix well with sinful red. 

Just like that, their group of 3 became one of 2. 

Just like that, the feeling of emptiness inside Penelope filled with a searing rage both familiar and not. 

Just like that Penelope’s impassive eyes slowly morphed into one of determination, welling up with tears that longed to make themselves known. 

“Remember them.” Penelope said with no waver in her tone, despite the few stray tears now streaming down her cheeks. 

Some thought her reaction to have been too late, whilst others knew it came when it was needed. 

Regardless, Penelope was no longer disconnected to the moment at hand. 

She was there, she was pissed. 

And she was not alone.

There were still 528 left under her command. 528 who still had the chance to return to their most sacred place. 

528 who were still counting on her.

Turning to face the ones who had not fallen to this monster, addressing them with her head hung in respect for the dead, Penelope spoke with no falter in her voice. 

“When the fire begins to fade, for the fallen and afraid, we are not to let them die in vain…” 

Finally their captain lifted her head. There it was, that raging flame in her eyes, the same one that got them through the war in the first place. The reason behind stroking those flames had changed, but the desire to burn was still the same. 

“Remember Them!”

Now, with her spear in hand, Penelope stood tall and regal with its support. Her spirit may have taken a blow, but the Gods and their creatures were foolish if they thought they could waver this mortal from finding her way. 

“We're the ones who carry on the flames of those who've gone,” Her voice was now booming, crying out her words like a lioness’ war cry. “And our comrades will not die in vain!”

Penelope strode to the Cyclops’ stray club, having fallen with its wielder upon his collapse. 

“I need all our hands on his club! This is how we're getting out of here!” 

Slicing its wooden flesh with her spear-point, Penelope unconsciously mimicked the action she had seen her husband perform many times whilst perfecting his craft. 

“Use your blades to sharpen the stub, and turn it to a giant spear!”

The rest of the soldiers had seemingly recovered from watching their sisters die, all thanks to their captain’s speech. 

Upon hearing Penelope’s command, each woman’s inner volcano built up to near eruption. Their anger, as hot and searing as molten lava, flowed amongst them all. Whether it be men or monsters, all in their path were naught but kindling for their flames.

These women wanted to avenge their friends. The only way to do this, they silently agreed amongst themselves, was to take an eye for an eye.

“Let's kill him!”

Penelope, though, sternly placed herself in front of their anger. 

“His body is blocking the path!” She pointed to where the Cyclops lay, behind him the cave’s only source of light and fresh air.�� “If we kill him we'll be stuck inside!” 

Ctimene, the voice of the crew, looked to her captain for a solution to their dilemma. “Captain, where do we attack him?”

Penelope glared at the Cyclops, both angered and amazed at the serenity of his sleep. “We gotta stab him in the eye!”

“Yes ma’am!”

The crew immediately put themselves to work carving their wooden spear, knowing their time was running out.

“Remember them!” 

Thanks to their determination it took almost no time for the cyclop’s club to be no more. Now, reshappen to look like a crude replica of Penelope’s spear, the wooden weapon longed once more to feed on liquid life. 

“When the fire begins to fade for the fallen and afraid, we are not to let them die in vain…” 

The women carried the wooden spear to where their one-eyed adversary slumbered defenselessly. Along the way they passed by 71 bodies, unable to bear looking them in the eyes that are now forever filled with fear. 

Penelope paused her step at body 72.  

“Remember them…”

It was unfair. Nobody deserved to die today, but Circes was the least deserving of them all. 

Beautiful, optimistic, loving Circes…

Even though she had been given the right to bear a Goddess’ name, something that anybody and everybody else would use to their endless advantage, she only ever used it to emphasize the importance of mercy; of greeting the world with open arms…

“We're the ones who carry on the flames of those who've gone, and our comrades will not die in vain…”

Penelope removed that pink ribbon wrapped tightly around Circe’s hair. She then collected most of her own loose and wild hair in one hand, using the ribbon to tie it up in a messy but functional ponytail.

Before returning to the living Penelope leaned down, gently shutting Circe’s eyes to spare her from the view. 

“NOW!” Penelope ordered.

The entire crew, Ctimene at the front, thrust the wooden spear inside the Cyclop’s closed eye. 

“ROOOOOOOAR!”

The Cyclops woke with an ear shattering cry, one that dripped with pain in its rawest form. He sat up straight away, blood dripping down from his speared eye and mixing with that little red lake.

Quick to get a grip on himself, Polyphemus immediately took hold of the second possession stolen from him that day and ripped it from his socket. No longer able to rely on his sense of sight, Polyphemus tried to feel around and grab one the monsters that intruded on his home.

However, their leader had already suspected this.

“Scatter!”

The Cyclops heard this and attempted to stop them, trying to hear and feel his way toward their direction. But ants lack sound as much as they lack size and these women have long since learnt to hone stealth into an asset more deadly than any weapon.

The women ran toward the cave opening from whence they came, large rocks and the sheep surrounding them. Behind them, the Cyclops continued to roar and cry out in complete and utter anguish. 

Suddenly, another voice called out from deeper within the cave. 

“Who hurts you?”

The women froze in their tracks. Their blood ran cold, their breaths grew short, and goosebumps tingled from the back to their necks. 

Penelope and Ctimene were the only ones brave enough to look back. 

Right there, in the tunnel leading further down the cave, a single giant eye emerged from the darkness. 

“There are more of them?” Ctimene’s voice shuddered in realization. 

One monstrous voice became two, then two became three. More and more voices joined the original, more than could possibly be discerned by ear. 

With each voice came another eye appearing out of the darkness of that tunnel entrance. Just like with the voices, so many eyes emerged from the shadows.

“Who hurts you?”

Penelope placed a firm hand on Ctimene’s arm, looking from her second-in-command to the rest of her crew.

“Hide." She whispered. 

Each woman ran to hide behind one of the many giant rocks. They were clustered in groups of two or three, most holding onto each other in a desperate attempt to sate their fear. 

No one so much as took a breath. They were afraid that even the slightest movement, the quietest sound, would be all it took to alert the Cyclopes of their presence. 

“Who hurts you?”

Penelope and Ctimene hid together behind the rocks closest to the Cyclopses, closest to Polyphemus. 

Ctimene couldn’t take it. They had lost 72 women to only one Cyclops; how on earth would they be able to survive against an entire clan of them?

They couldn’t, Ctimene knew this. 

“Captain, we should run-” 

“Wait…” Penelope interrupted the other. 

“Who hurts you?”

Even more Cyclopses than before, how was that even possible?!

Ctimene tried to ground herself by gripping tightly onto Penelope’s arm, but it didn’t work. There was this genuine look of horror in her eyes, as if she just realized that her life was on the line with no choice in the matter. 

Ctimene had never felt this even when she was drafted to war in her husband’s stead. She had never experienced this even when fighting in the battlefields of Troy for over a decade. 

But now, with the weight of her soul in another’s hands, Ctimene couldn’t shake this newfound fear of death. 

“Captain, please!” She begged.

However, even with Ctimene’s hand gripping her flesh so tightly it would no doubt leave a bruise, even with the voice of her partner in crime pleading in her ear, Penelope did not falter.

“Wait.” 

Polyphemus, hands over the empty cavity that once housed his single eyes, answered the question his brothers demanded to know.

“It was Nobody, Nobody…”

With that as his answer, Polyphemus’ kin backed away from the dark entry. 

“If nobody hurts you, be silent.”

 And with that, the Cyclopses returned to the deepest recesses of the cave one after the other. 

“Don't go!”

But it was too late. Just as it had been his entire life, Polyphemus was left alone with no other Cyclops willing to stay by his side. 

And so, the blind Cyclops kneeled defeated in his lonesome. 

Penelope, seeing that their biggest threat was now broken, pointed in the way of the cave’s opening. 

“Let's grab the sheep and away we go.” 

The crew did just that, grabbing every single sheep the Cyclops had in his flock. By the end, almost every single woman ran out of that cave holding a sheep in her arms. 

Not every woman who entered that cave made it out. Every woman who did manage to escape with her life intact had her outfit stained with blood. For the first time in an entire decade, that blood belonged to a dead Greek. 

Penelope was the last to run out of the cave, and by definition was the last to board her ship. 

She had ordered the anchors to be lifted, commanded the rowers to set a course for open waters, was prepared to forever leave this awful place and once again be reunited with her old companion that was the sea.

 Only to feel a familiar dose of adrenaline rush through her blood. 

A sense of blind courage invaded her thoughts. It was different from normal though; this kind of divine courage was supposed to feel empowering, but right now it only highlighted her desperation. 

“Have you forgotten the lessons I taught you?” Ares manifested himself in front of Penelope, housing himself in her mind and thus visible to only her eyes. “He's still a threat until he's dead!” 

Ares aimed his spear back toward the direction of the cave. 

Though his eyes were covered to all the world, anyone who could look into them in that moment would see the expression of a man who cared only for the glory that would emerge upon the aftermath of bloodshed. 

“Finish it.”

But there was something the God of War just couldn’t comprehend, something that mortals knew to be all too true: once blood is shed, defeat comes quickly after. 

“No.” 

Ares stilled, dangerously so. He slowly turned to face his mortal, eyes alarmingly narrow from inside his helm. 

“No?”

Penelope knew her hands were not free of sin. Back then, during her time fighting the war, so many people who called Troy home had lost their lives thanks to her, be it her weapon or mind.

Men who bore arms for the sake of their honor, women who refused to stand idle and let their homes be destroyed, even a defenseless baby whose only sin was being watched by the Gods… 

All of them were probably cursing her from the moment they set foot in the underworld. 

But, even if her hands were stained with their blood, Penelope could at least justify it to herself at night by saying it was necessary. She was drafted from the Heavens themselves.  She didn’t have a choice. 

Here…

“What good would killing do? When mercy is a skill more of this world could learn to use…” 

Penelope looked down at her hands, faintly stained with the dried blood. Belonging not to the no-eyed monster, but to her dear, precious friend. 

“My friend is dead, our foe is blind, the blood we shed, it burns so hot!”

Penelope couldn’t handle it. The blood of 72 women who had thought their lives now secure, all on her hands. 

How many more would bleed out as a result of her desire for bloodshed?

 “Is this what it means to be a Warrior of the Heart?”

Penelope couldn’t let it end like this, she couldn’t let her sisters’ death end in such a meaningless way. 

The captain immediately grabbed hold of her spear, the very same one that granted her the gift of Ares’ guidance. She turned around, walking to the end of her ship. Walking where the cave stayed ominously quiet, fading slowly as 12 ships sailed away from its rocky hollow. 

Ares realized what she was planning to do. 

“Don't!” 

Penelope pushed his presence from her mind, but not from her body. She could still feel that rush of adrenaline course through her blood, sense that touch of mettle grounding her spirit. 

“Hey, Cyclops!”

Now, filled to the brim with pure resolved boldness, Penelope felt nothing but the high of courage. Courage to face the Cyclops one final time. 

“When we met, I led with peace, while you fed your inner beast! But my comrades will not die in vain, Remember them!”

The crew listened to their captain’s words, defeat and exhaustion trickling amongst them. Many shed tears of loss for their fallen friends, some still held on to each other for fear that if they let go they would lose even more of their sisters-in-arms. 

Ctimene was the only one who still had the strength to look up at her captain. Her eyes were wary and her fists were clenched. A strange cynic look, faint but still there, momentarily revealed itself; only for a second. 

“The next time that you dare choose not to spare Remember Them! Remember Us!”

Penelope held her head high and proud, her posture tall and straight and regal in all its glory. She lifted her spear…

“Remember Me!” 

And stabbed the wooden floor of her ship. A small crack in the foundation resulted from the captain’s attack. 

“I'm the reigning Queen of Ithaca! I am neither man nor mythical! I am your darkest moment! I am the unyielding…”

Penelope’s stray bangs, which could not be held back with the ribbon, flew in her face and framed her sharp, glaring eyes. For that one single moment, her face was unforgettable. 

“Penelope!”

With that, the boats were quick to sail away, not a sound or a song uttered amidst the giant sea. 

Nobody noticed Polyphemus' mouth split into a cruel, forboding smile.

[pinkiepiebones]

caught.

Very short fill for Dracfied Week day 1 "Genderbend/rule 63" that I most certainly did not write in half an hour today

When Robert Montague Renfield arrived at Castle Dracula, he was terribly nervous. He had dealt with a lot of strange bullshit to get there- a sworn oath to not tell a single soul of his destination- which did not go over well at the real estate office to whom he was employed-, the native inhabitants of these lands trying to give him or sell him crucifixes (he wasn't sure; his grasp on the language amounted to politely explaining he didn't know their language), spicy food, a midnight coach ride through the sloping, narrow roads of the Carpathian Mountain range, and now, as he stood in the bitter cold before an ancient weatherworn set of imposing wooden doors, he was beginning to dread that this deal had been some sort of drawn-out elaborate prank.

Then there was the sound of a key turning in a heavy rusted lock.

Robert straightened and gathered up his suitcase as the doors creaked open. The courtyard had been in a state of decay, strange vines strangling the battered stone edifices, but the foyer of the castle was worse, somehow. Several tall candelabras were positioned around this once-grand entryway and offered some flickering illumination. Robert's wide blue eyes took in the elaborate mosaic on the floor; as he walked carefully around he noted the the tile components were faded, some cracked, all had once joined to create the stylised image of a great beast with bat-like wings. The Count's crest, perhaps. Cobwebs hung thick from walls and ceilings as though they had become replacements for tapestries and curtains. The stone staircase to Robert's right was so thick with dust he had at first mistaken it for some strange animal hide. 

At the top landing of the stairs a single, blueish-white point of light hovered. Robert stopped his mosaic meandering to look up. Something about the bewitching light made him feel small, and afraid, as a rabbit catching the glint of a hunting rifle through the tall grass.

The light began to move, descending the staircase. A person wrapped in sleek black furs was clutching a small candle holder, the flame was the light he had watched. Robert chuckled to himself and removed his hat, respectfully, and spoke as the figure approached.

"Count Dracula, I presume?"

The person in furs smiled cooly.

"Countess," she said sweetly. "And you are Mister Renfield, yes?"

Robert shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The Countess's gaze was sharp and heavy. "Ah, yes, madam," he said. "I'm so sorry, is your, is your husband up at this hour? I thought I had been corresponding w-"

Countess Dracula raised a pale hand, her long, red nails shimmering in the candlelight. "There is no Count. Only myself." A smirk sat on her full lips. "It was not my intention to mislead you or misrepresent myself, Mister Renfield. My English leaves something to be... desired."

Robert swallowed a lump in his throat. His wedding ring was suddenly quite heavy on his hand.

Countess Dracula almost seemed to glide gracefully down the crumbling stairs. "Ah, my manners! Please, come in, let us see about making you warm, yes?" She removed her coat and Robert instinctively bent down so she could set it on his shoulders. It smelled sweet, and coppery. 

Countess Dracula ghosted her fingernails against the back of Robert's neck as she moved, and his wandering eyes stole shameful glances down the front of her crimson dress as she adjusted the coat's collar for him, one hand still holding the odd candle.

She stepped back and flicked her wrist and he stood as if by command. She looked him over, assessing. "This will do until the fire is strong, yes?" She turned and started walking. "Come, little lamb, you must eat and sleep before we discuss the business." She smiled, exposing fang-like teeth.

"And I must eat, as well."

Robert nodded and eagerly followed her deeper into the darkness.

[fbfh]

curiosity is a wonderful thing - ch 4

wc: 3.8k

genre: political thriller (ish), slow burn, best friends to lovers

pairing: audrey x ben, eventual ben x reader

warnings: political shiz, audrey sucks even more than the last chapter, reader has time blindness and implied social anxiety, classism (from audrey at the isle kids), tense social situations

summary: you manage to make it to the Isle kids welcome reception without being irrevercably late, but what's worse than you're time management skills is Audrey's attitude.

song recs: running out of time - paramore

a/n: fangz 2 cici for beta reading. I'm going to sleep for 24 hours straight. bro I am so tired. love you guys <333 (plus optional fit)

tags @yesv01 @magcon7280 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl  @sunshineangel-reads @strawberry-cake1 @dustyinkpages @kiara7777

"Shit, shit, shit!" 

You jolt up off the mushroom you've been sitting comfortably on, chugging the rest of your tea and shoving the cup back in your bag. 

“Goodbye,” you say quickly to the inchworms, “and break a leg for your choral concert!” 

You call back to them quickly before running into the trees and looking for a grassy clearing big enough to make a rabbit hole. You find exactly the spot you’re looking for, and quickly summon a rabbit hole to bring you back to Auradon. You watch the earth crumble and sink in front of you as the rabbit hole forms at your feet. As soon as it’s big enough, you jump in feet first, and the ground quickly closes around you. You fall for a few moments, plummeting much faster than before, spinning through the dark earthy air. After a few moments of tumbling through the darkness, there’s a rumbling as the earth opens up above you. You grab onto the ledge, and hoist yourself up, crawling onto your dorm room floor. You let yourself get your bearings for a moment, before remembering why you’re in such a rush.

“Shit, shit, shit…” You mutter again, brushing the dirt off your clothes as you hurry out of your dorm room. You scurry down several flights of stairs, twisting and turning through corridors to get to the reception for the Isle kids. You dust yourself off and straighten up all the little parts of your outfit, including the ribbon you always wear on your head in some way or another. It’s soft and worn, a gift from your mother dyed with Wonderland blackberries. It always carries the familiar scents of sweet summertime tea and fruit, and the reassuring embrace of your mother’s hugs. Lost in the thought, you find yourself tripping over your shoes and stumbling the last few steps to the great hall. You let out a loud noise of surprise before you manage to catch yourself.

“Oh- goodness!” You exclaim. You look around, hoping no one heard you, and you’re relieved to see that there’s no one else inside the great hall. Everyone is already outside for the reception, and the cheerful melodies of the school band must have covered up any noise you made. Wait, the band is already playing. 

“I must be later than I thought…” you mutter. You scurry down the cobblestone path, spotting Ben with Fairy Godmother and Audrey just past the statue of Ben’s father. You move quickly, managing to take your place among them, hoping to seamlessly blend in as if you’d been here the whole time. 

“Late again, Ms. Liddell?” Fairy Godmother asks quietly. Ben looks down in surprise, just noticing your arrival. You flash him a brief look of encouragement, one that says see? I told you I’d be here on time. More or less. Ben smiles, warm and sincere as he feels a renewed sense of reassurement and confidence that always seems to arrive along with you. After that moment of eye contact, you reply softly to Fairy Godmother. 

“No excuse, ma’am - I’m simply on Wonderland time.”

Which is, to say, no time at all, what with Wonderland being a timeless domain and such. The main difference between Wonderland and Neverland is that in Neverland, time stands still, but in Wonderland, it doesn’t exist at all. You’ve always had a hard time remembering that time is so important overland, hence the pocket watch. The feeling of Ben’s hand on your neck snaps you out of the thought, and you look over at him as he plucks a sparkling pink leaf off your collar, letting it fall to the ground as the limo pulls up.

“Thanks-” You barely have time to whisper before the car doors open, and two rowdy looking boys tumble out, fighting over a large piece of fabric. The band stops playing, shocked at the unusual display of behavior. Fairy Godmother approaches as the other two climb out of the car. The purple haired one - Mal, if you’re correct - nudges the boys and mutters something to them, causing them to straighten up. You wait next to Ben, with Audrey on his other side, as Fairy Godmother greets them and begins her introduction of herself, and Auradon Prep. Your eyes fall to the manicured hedges surrounding the brick path leading into the school. You let yourself watch the leaves rustle fluidly in the ambient breeze, thinking about the foliage in Wonderland. Given a choice, you prefer Wonderland plant life - it all feels much more dynamic and interesting. You think you could watch those little pink leaves shimmer and glisten all day long, if you had the time, of course. Although, you must admit to yourself how fond you've grown of these hedges too. They're uniform, but still individualistic when you look close enough. They’re quite stately. A real treat. 

"It is so good to finally meet you all."

You snap back to attention as Ben begins to speak, and introduces himself. Excitement starts to stir inside you as you and Ben both realize in that moment that it's finally happening. All your hard work is about to pay off. The only one who doesn't seem to realize the importance of this moment is Audrey. Ben barely has time to introduce himself before she cuts him off to interject. 

"Prince," she emphasizes, "Benjamin."

She squeezes his arm and looks up at him. 

"Soon to be king!"

You fight the urge to share a knowing look with Ben, all too well aware of how frequently Audrey seems to derail serious discussions and meetings for things that are barely relevant at best. Though his expression doesn't show it, Ben doesn't even need to look at your face to know the exact expression present on it. 

In front of you, the blue haired girl - the Evil Queen's daughter - steps forward and extends her hand to Ben with an excited look on her face. 

"You had me at prince," she says, clearly infatuated with Ben’s title. Her voice is breathy and flirtatious as she speaks, but something tells you that the stakes are higher for her than she's letting on. "My mom’s a queen, which makes me a princess…"

Before the sigh can leave her lips, Audrey interjects again. You watch her face subtly warp into one of the fakest smiles you've ever seen as she speaks with a performative, forced friendliness. 

"The Evil Queen has no royal status here." Her tone is somehow even more fake than her smile. "And neither do you!"

It's silent for a moment as Evie tries not to make her rejection known. Status seems to be important to her, and coming from a place like the Isle where one has so little, it seems cruel to you for Audrey to strip that away so carelessly. After another moment of painful, sad silence, Ben chuckles politely in an attempt to smooth things over. 

“...This is Audrey-”

“Princess Audrey.” She emphasizes. You wonder if she’s deliberately trying to make Ben’s job harder, or if she’s just that callous. Audrey grabs Ben’s hand in spite of the awkward distance between them - not far, but too far to hold hands comfortably. 

“His girlfriend.” She finishes, “Right Bennyboo?”

You don’t say anything, you don’t make a single noise at any of her comments. Somehow your silence is louder to Ben than anything else you could have said. You’ve never been a fan of Audrey’s nickname for him, something Ben has a slight suspicion about. You think his name suits him perfectly well. All of the cutesy modifiers seem to be because she likes saying them rather than for expressing her affection for him. A nickname, you think, should be like a kiss to the cheek. Soft and natural, pleasant every time it happens. But Bennyboo? It has never hit your ear right from the day she came up with it, and you find yourself cringing a little whenever its said in your vicinity. 

Ben leans over awkwardly, allowing Audrey to hold his hand for a moment. He knows it will make a worse scene if she doesn’t get her way, so he finds himself more prone to compromising with her in cases like this - which happens often. After that brief moment, he finds a graceful exit in removing his hand to bring you forward and introduce you. He rests the hand closest to you on your lower back, gesturing to you as you wave to them politely. You can take a little while to warm up to people, you’ve been that way since you were kids, for as long as Ben can remember. He rubs his thumb over the fabric of your shirt encouragingly. It’s familiar, a reminder that he’s there for you. 

The Isle kids’ eyes linger on you as Ben tells them your name, but Audrey’s eyes linger on Ben’s hand still placed comfortably on your back. After you finish greeting them, Fairy Godmother steps forward again.

“Alright!” She says, chipper attitude disguising the worry and stress beginning to fringe in around the edges of her mind. She gestures to you, Ben, and Audrey. 

“These three are going to show you around, and I’ll see you tomorrow in class.” She states in her usual soft, sweet tone before launching into one of her classic monologues, “The doors of wisdom are never closed!” 

The Isle kids look surprised at the way she speaks, gesturing dramatically. You and Ben share a look, knowing exactly what she’s about to say. 

“But, the library hours are from eight to eleven,” she adds, “and as you may have heard, I have a little thing about curfews.”

Ben catches a glimpse of you lip synching along with her, silently following along with a little thing about curfews at the same time as she says it. It catches him off guard, and he has to stop himself from laughing, which of course, leads to you suppressing a smile too. Audrey clutches her purse irritably as Ben tries to disguise his laugh as a cough. She takes note of the way you keep your eyes firmly fixed on the ground, the way you try to bite back a laugh and a smile of your own. You know if you look over at Ben then you’ll both devolve into inconsolable laughter, the kind only the closest of friends can bring about in each other. 

Fairy Godmother leaves, and Ben is able to collect himself, stepping forward toward the Isle kids to begin his speech. An uncharacteristically nervous flutter appears within him, making his stomach flip. He wishes he had had time to run it by you again, just one more time. But he got to run it by Audrey - sort of. Regardless, Audrey said it was good. She gave it her seal of approval, and as his girlfriend, Ben needs to trust her judgment, and trust that she has his best interest at heart. He lets out a little breath, preparing himself. 

This is it.

This is his chance to break the generational cycle that’s been created, to end the years of being stuck in an echochamber of war and unrest, to heal the trauma that the nation has collectively suffered - especially the innocent people stuck on the Isle. This is his very first chance to bridge the gap,to really connect with the Isle kids and let them know that they’re welcome with open arms, and they’re accepted unconditionally. It sounds improbable to say that seven teenagers can make history, but that’s truly what this is - history in the making. History that will benefit everyone in the nation years down the line. They’re building the future in this very moment. 

“It is so, so…” Ben begins, stepping forward, “so good to finally meet you-”

He’s cut off with a grunt as one of them punches him in the chest. Your eyes flare in concern for a moment, but Ben’s smile denotes it as a sign of camaraderie. Nonetheless, it catches you both by surprise. Ben recovers quickly and seamlessly, just like a politician, a future king, should. It’s one of his talents, and is something you’ve always admired about him. You walk next to him, and greet the first person in line - you’re almost sure he’s Jafar’s son - as Ben shakes the other girl’s hand. Your shoulder brushes against Ben’s, and he falters for a moment. He stares at Maleficent’s purple haired daughter blankly for a moment, all too aware of how close your arm is to his. He snaps out of it a moment later, and continues his speech.

“This is a momentous occasion,” he begins. You realize he’s going to do the full original speech, that he didn’t revise or edit it for this less formal occasion. He moves to shake hands with the next person. 

“And one that I hope will go down in history…” He trails off, feeling something sticky rub off on his hand. He looks down at the dark smudge, and brings his hand up to his nose, sniffing hesitantly. It smells sweet, and he’s a little relieved. 

“Is that chocolate?” He asks. 

His enhanced sense of smell inherited from his father confirms that it is, in fact, chocolate. Milk chocolate, with traces of peanut butter. Ben glances over at you for a brief moment as you flash him a knowing smile. Candy and sweets in the limo had been your idea, a welcoming gift to lift their spirits and ease their travels. Based on all the plastic wrappers and brightly colored sugar crystals here and there, it seems to have been a successful welcoming gesture. As you reach Cruella De Vil’s son, you pull a lacy handkerchief out of your tea pot bag, and hand it to him so he can wipe the rest of the chocolate off his hands and face. He thanks you quietly as Ben continues his speech.

“As the day our two peoples began to heal.” He states, as confident and well rehearsed as ever. Before he can continue, he gets cut off by Maleficent’s daughter.

“Or the day that you showed four peoples where the bathrooms are.” She says in an exaggerated, sarcastic tone of voice, eliciting a laugh from her peers. Just as you feared, this whole thing is way too formal for the occasion. Maleficent’s daughter seems to be the ringleader out of the four of them. 

Ben falters for a moment, realizing that he should have taken your advice and edited his speech before now. But when would he have found time to? He thinks back to his interaction with Audrey and realizes that she was more motivated to tell Ben all her gossip than she was to actually look over his speech with a critical eye. He remembers what you told him earlier, your concerns about it being too formal for the occasion. Once again, your judgment was spot on. You’ve never been one to say I told you so, but in this moment, he would let you if you wanted to. He's able to recover quickly.

"A little bit over the top?" He asks with a chuckle. She seems impressed that he wasn't outwardly hurt by her comments.

"A little more than a little bit." She retorts.

“Well, so much for my first impression.” Ben jokes back, eliciting something close to a chuckle out of her. You let out a small breath, relieved that he diffused the situation, and can now get their welcome and orientation back on track after breaking the ice like that. Being able to seem like a leader without coming across as intimidating or authoritarian is already a hard balance to strike, and it’s even more difficult when you need to seem personable and friendly without being unprofessional. Add in the unknowns of blazing a trail into all new territory like this, and what Ben is doing is truly impressive. Although you’re incredibly proud and impressed, you’re not at all surprised at Ben for being able to pull this off. If anyone could, you know it would be him. Moments like these really exemplify his passion for politics, for using his power the way it was intended - to improve the lives of everyone in Auradon. He's always been like this, you both have since you were knee high to a march hare. It's one of the reasons you have such a close bond. You've never minded too much that your peers are more inclined to the social aspect of your titles than the political end of things, you think it’s best not to venture into something as taxing as politics and government when you don't love it. On the hard days, that love, that drive to help is what gets you through. As if proving your point, Audrey’s overly chipper voice disrupts the atmosphere again. 

"Hey," she gestures to the purple haired girl, "you're Maleficent’s daughter, aren't you?"

You can sense Ben and yourself tense up, freezing imperceptibly. Nothing good can possibly come from this, and you both brace yourselves for the inevitable.

"Yeah, you know what?" She continues, "I totally do not blame you for your mother trying to kill my parents and stuff." 

Her tone is perfectly chipper, but paired with her underhanded words, the meaning behind them is crystal clear. Your stomach sinks, and you’re sure Ben must be stifling his panic better than you are, but the expression on Mal’s face says exactly what you and Ben - and presumably, the rest of the Isle kids - are thinking. You know Ben is going to have a lot to say to Audrey about this later. If she brushes off her petty at best behavior like she usually does, you’re not sure you’ll be able to restrain yourself from sharing some choice words of your own. The only thing stopping you is Ben. You know calling Audrey out would do more harm than good, and the best thing you can do for Ben is support him and help with any damage control he does later. 

Audrey has a habit of excusing behavior like this, especially if it’s hers, but she fails to see the fundamental difference between bitching about the other girls on the cheer squad and what she just did - there’s life beyond high school, but politics can have real, lasting consequences and effect innocent people’s lives for generations. This isn’t some junior counsel mock trial, you’re in the real world of royal government now. Every day that Ben’s coronation gets closer is another day you’re getting deeper and deeper into real politics with real people. 

“Oh, my mom’s Aurora.” She continues. You really, really wish she would stop talking. “Sleeping-”

“Beauty!” Mal quickly finishes for her. There’s a barely concealed, dangerous look on her face, and her eyes glow green like poison, flashing menacingly. “Yeah, I’ve heard the name…”

You can tangibly feel the years of resentment and hatred for her passed down to Mal from her mother, now directed right at Audrey. 

“You know,” Mal continues, “and I totally do not blame your grandparents… for inviting everyone in the whole world,” she takes a step closer to Audrey giving her a look that could kill, paired with a venomously fake smile that… could also kill. “To their stupid christening!”

You look between them, growing nervous. Audrey either doesn’t notice the venom in Mal’s words or simply doesn’t care, because she replies with a smile that’s approximately as real as her hair extensions. 

“Water under the bridge.” She says, deliberately scrunching her nose, trying to replicate the way that you do naturally - the little nose scrunch you’d never noticed until Ben pointed it out a few months ago, telling you how cute it is. 

“Totes!” Mal agrees sarcastically. They both let out an insincere laugh in unison. The tension between them jumps out astronomically with just those few words, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t getting a little overwhelming. Ben glances over at you, knowing you’ve never been good with tense atmospheres like this. His eyes immediately flick down to your hands, taking note of the way you fidget with the strap of your bag. He also notices the way you subconsciously shift your weight, unable to feel comfortable with so much animosity burning between Mal and Audrey. 

He needs to get the Isle kids away from Audrey before she says anything to make this already less than ideal situation worse, but more importantly, he needs to get things moving along for your sake. Without realizing it, his top priority is immediately you and your comfort. Once he gets them all settled into their dorms, he can pull you aside and check on you, make sure you’re okay. He has to get the Isle kids settled into their dorms, go over their arrival with Fairy Godmother and a few council members, then he has a late dinner with his parents… he’ll have to find time to finish the mountain of paperwork that’s in progress, too. 

Even though it’s a lot to get done, he finds himself looking forward to it - even the paperwork. Especially the paperwork. He’s always found it relaxing, mostly because he knows you’ll be in the room with him while he does, journaling and organizing your photographs. You’re always happy to keep him company and ensure he has a warm cup of tea in his hands. 

He would never tell anyone that he likes doing paperwork - except for you, of course. He knows that if he told Audrey or her friends or the guys on the tourney team, they’d never let him hear the end of it. It turns out that being in line for the throne doesn’t mean you’re immune to being called a dork. But you’re always happy to keep him company. He has a feeling you find spending time quietly working on your journal while he goes through different forms and reports just as relaxing as he does.

You let out a little breath and he looks back over at you, at the polite smile plastered on your face and unsettled look in your eyes. It snaps him back to the present, and he looks between Audrey and the Isle kids.

“Okay!” He says, clapping his hands casually, but just loud enough to get their attention. “How bout a tour?”

He looks over at you, silently signaling that he has your back. You nod, matching his energy, and smiling at him. 

“Yeah.” You say softly. 

“Yeah?” He repeats, looking at the Isle kids, who seem to agree. Anything to avoid another Mal and Audrey conflict sounds great right now. Ben glances at you again, and he can tell you’re already feeling better. Or at least a little better than you were a few moments ago. You share one more look for a split second, sharing a silent reassurance, an understanding, and you can tell you’re thinking the same thing. This is going to be… interesting. 

[thana-topsy]

WIP Wednesday~

I haven't shared any works in progress in a while, so I figured it might be nice! I'm trying to complete two more chapters of Halfway to the Sky before I post the next one, but here's a small snippet. Spoilers for anyone who hasn't read past Chapter 16:

-----

They met Gelebor outside of the kitchens. He began the tour with a soft smile and a brief history lesson. 

“The Great Chantry of Auriel was built in the Merethic era, as it has come to be known, when the Snow Elves were the predominant population here in Skyrim. I would like to say we were a peaceful society, but we were not. War and unrest plagued my people as much as it has plagued any great civilization. I saw too much violence in my younger years. It is one of the many reasons I turned to a monastic life. Auriel granted me refuge from the turmoil of mortal drama and helped me to see the temporality of it all.” 

Sarel wanted to ask what ‘temporality’ meant, but didn’t want to interrupt. 

“The Chantry was a refuge for many—lay and monastic alike. Here, follow me.”   

He led them to the frontmost room where the pilgrims once gathered. It was littered with broken statues and ice and dust. Slender beams of light shone through the long windows and erased parts of the room from Sarel’s vision, dissolving them into patches of white nothingness. Apparently, pilgrims used to perform a whole ritual to get here that involved traveling all over the Vale, visiting wayshrines and carrying water back and forth. It didn’t make sense to Sarel, but aside from the most basic tenets of the Altmeri pantheon, his father hadn’t raised him to understand the more tedious aspects of religious practices.

The chantry also had a whole second story, but Gelebor could only show them half of it. A large portion had been taken over by the creep of the glacier and lost to crumbling disuse. But it seemed to be mostly more sleeping chambers. A lot of people had lived here at one point. 

Sarel continued to hold his father’s hand as they walked the halls. The light that filtered through the windows of the upper story pulsed white hot. He flinched away as they passed through one of the sunbeams, turning his face towards his father’s arm. 

“The light hurts him,” Aiden said, his voice wavering with distress. “Must we walk this way?” 

“It’s alright,” Sarel said, wincing as he forced himself to turn his head forward. “I need to get used to it.”

Gelebor paused ahead of them, then turned around. He stared down at Sarel pensively for a silent moment, then stepped forward to gently take a knee in front of him. “What if we go sit in the garden?” 

“What!?” Aiden squawked. “Didn’t I just–?” 

“If Sarel doesn’t want to, then we won’t,” Gelebor assured, looking up at Aiden. “But…” He turned his gaze back to Sarel, offering the barest hint of a smile. “If you’d like to learn how to tolerate the sun, I can think of no more beautiful place.”

“Alright,” Sarel cautiously agreed. “What if I can’t stand it?” 

“Then we stop,” Gelebor said, as if it were obvious. 

 Sarel tugged at his earlobes, chewing at his lip and debating. He hazarded a look at the streak of buzzing light only to jerk his gaze away. Frustration warred with fear. He wanted to be able to sit in the sun. 

“Alright,” Sarel said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “Yeah, let’s try.”

[horrornvnfan]

To Need Another Person

I wrote yet another Restart Heart Fanfic! This is a sequel to The First Night, and takes place on the morning of Day 2 of the game. This is starring my MC, Maria Dust, and Ezra and Steph.

This fic is a re-write two scenes from the game put together, so canon lines/events/actions are used here or have been edited to fit the characterization of Maria Dust, but credit must go to the original. Please check out Restart Heart and support the dev here @restartheartvn, the game and the story are really amazing!

If you're interested in Maria in the context of this game, click here.

————————————————————————

You woke up to Ezra's limbs intertwined with yours. And the sound of vibration.

Reluctantly, you open your eyes. Your body felt so sore you thought you were going to crumble into pieces. You feel like that was an injustice, considering all the nonsense you were already going to have to go through from here on out, with cancelling an entire wedding and dealing with your family.

At least you got to experience some kindness yesterday. Ezra, Sammy, and Blaire's trip to the cafe and beach was more pleasant than you expected, considering your emotional state and your status of just being their acquaintance at the time. And then last night, with Ezra… he was so understanding. He even made you laugh.

You were grateful for it. But now that you were awake, there was no slipping back into a comfortable sleep with Ezra by your side.

You tried to move only to get a groan of displeasure from Ezra. He did not want you to leave and in the moment he reminded you of a cat. He grumbled, "Your phone has been going off for the past like, 10 minutes."

You blushed hard as you heard his voice in your ear, deep and mildly annoyed. His voice was normally pretty deep, but this was just insane. And you don't know why you didn't expect it to sound so close. You were cuddling.

Maybe you should stop cuddling. Act cool, for a change.

"How much has it been going off?" You ask as you carefully attempt to wriggle away.

Before he could respond, your phone started buzzing again. You let out a soft groan and reached over to grab the vibrating device. It was a text from Steph. Unusual. You opened the notification to see what the fuss was about.

Steph: [I'm outside, open the door in 10 seconds or I'm breaking it down.]

"Oh, it's just Steph," You yawned. "They're outside."

The gears in your head, previously turning painfully slow in your tiredness, sped up tenfold. Both you and Ezra jolt up and look at each other awkwardly. You couldn't help but stare at Ezra for a moment before quickly jumping out of bed, only for your legs to falter momentarily. What happened to your plan to act cool?

Before you could fall like a tragic baby deer, Ezra's arms shot out and caught you. An oddly tender moment passed as they looked at you a warm blush dusting their cheeks. However, the banging on your front door took precedence.

Embarrassed, you flung yourself from Ezra's hold, and shouted, "STEPH! Stop it! Give me a minute!"

You fumbled out of the bedroom, Ezra trailing behind, and as you swung the door open, still in pajamas and your hair a mess, you came face to face with Steph, who stared at you in disapproval.

"Why the fuck didn't you answer your phone??" They demanded, more cross than you expected.

"I just woke up!"

"And who is that?" Steph glared past you, somehow offended by Ezra's presence in your apartment.

Before you could turn around to introduce them, you felt Ezra gently place his hand on your shoulder. "I'm Ezra, I kept sugarsnap company last night."

You were about to turn to Ezra to nod in confirmation and continue the introductions, but Steph's reaction right in front of you kept you from looking back. They were shifting uncomfortably. And it was strange. Steph was practically never intimidated or made uncomfortable by someone else.

Feeling awkward, you gently nudged Ezra out of the way and stepped aside. "Come inside! I'm sorry for not waking up earlier, y'know how it is."

Steph nodded absentmindedly as they stepped into your apartment. For a moment you just stared at them, the fogginess of sleep and the sudden adrenaline of running out of bed starting to wear off. Steph was here. In your apartment. After what felt like ages of ignoring you or being too busy to even text. Your heart felt tight. And with Ezra here as well, already having comforted you last night over completely different emotional issues, you felt painfully awkward.

Steph wasn't looking at you when they said, "Yeah… did you mean to leave your window open?"

"Huh?" You followed Steph's gaze to your open living room window. "Oh! No, my roommate, Chris, usually leaves our windows open. No idea why, never got the chance to ask." You quickly moved to the window to slide it closed. "I wish he wouldn't, though. I know most bugs are dead or gone this time of year, but I really don't need to risk an infestation right now."

Steph turned back to you and smiled nervously. "Well, how are you feeling? You didn't text me much so I thought you might have… had a bad reaction to what happened."

You didn't like how they said that. You did text them yesterday. You called them multiple times the night of the party, when you were drunk and crying and Chris had to get you home. And now Steph was being vague?

Ezra spoke then. "No need to beat around the bush, I know what he did."

Oh. Right, Ezra being here was why Steph wasn't being direct. There wasn't another reason, like Steph not caring. You needed to stay calm. Steph was here.

And you could see Steph's growing discomfort. "Can I talk to you alone, Maria?"

"Yes," You said too quickly. Sheepish, you smiled at Ezra. "Ezra, Steph and I will be in my room for a bit. You can make yourself comfortable, or eat anything in the fridge."

Steph grabbed your hand and hurried you into your room as Ezra watched.

You felt tumultuous. Steph was here, and that was so important to you. You'd missed Steph so much for so long, and finally, they were here. You needed them. You had no idea how to say it. How to not burden them or make them want to distance themselves from you again. But this was a good first step, you could ask Steph to grab dinner with you, or watch a movie, just a time where you could talk, and--

Steph was scowling at you. You froze, surprised. You'd gotten into your head a bit for a second there, but why were they upset? Steph stared at you incredulously. "Are you serious, Maria?"

"I-- What? What do you mean?"

"While I get what happened really fucking sucked, what the hell was that?" They were pissed at you. "A fucking stranger? Really?"

Shit. You completely forgot about how this would look to Steph, having Ezra spend the night. Your body felt cold, and you gripped your arm tightly. "Ezra isn't a stranger. We're friends now. And we didn't have sex. They just sleptover."

You glare at the ground for a bit, resentment bubbling in your gut. Why did Steph accuse you of that? It's not like you, and they know it. And it wouldn't be fair of them to be angry if you did sleep with Ezra anyways. Your sex life was not their business. "What does it matter?" You continue. "It's not like you were here. You decided that work was more important than my wedding shower."

"Are you KIDDING me?!" Steph scoffed at you, causing your gaze to meet theirs. It was a bit of a low blow, and you knew it. Steph's schedule had always been a point of contention with them, but you were mad. And you were hurt.

They said, "You know I would've rather been there than at work, but I can't exactly quit my job for a fucking party, Maria!"

"It's not just a fucking party," You said through a clenched jaw. "It was one of the most important events in my life and you couldn't take off a single day."

"Well, I'm here now, aren't I?" Steph countered flippantly.

Your face was getting hot, and your impulse control was dropping. So you asked them something you'd wanted to know for months. "Steph, why did you never RSVP to my wedding?"

A deafening silence fell over the room. They were still displeased with you, but there was a new emotion there now. They hesitating. "Do you really want to know?"

"Yes."

Steph's unwavering gaze made you squirm a bit. "Alright. I didn't RSVP because… I didn't want you to marry Kenneth."

Your mind went blank, astonishment temporarily replacing your anger and pain.

They went on. "In fact, I hate Kenneth. Even before all of this shit came to light."

"What?" Your mind was racing. They hate Kenneth? Since when? College? High school? Not younger, couldn't be before then, not for all this time. How could they be saying such earth-shaterring things so blandly, like it was something casual?

They said, "I know that if I came to your wedding, I would not be able to stop myself. So I decided, for your sake and your happiness, to not go."

You rasped a question. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I did."

"No." You said so harshly that Steph took a step back. "No, you really fucking didn't, Steph. You were always supportive. I can't think of a single time that you didn't support this marriage. You even helped him pay for an engagement ring!"

"Yeah, because he couldn't even remember your favorite fucking color, Maria!" Steph snapped defensively. "He didn't know what kind of jewelry you liked, and just assumed the gaudiest, most expensive thing would work! He thought you wanted all this extravagant, outlandish, and down right stupid stuff for the proposal."

Steph went on, unloading their feelings as if they'd been holding in a secret and were relieved to breathe again. "I helped him so much because I didn't want you to be sad. I didn't want him to fucking fail. Yet even with all that fucking help I gave him he still went and got your little sister pregnant."

Your heart was hammering. You couldn't hear much else besides the blood roaring in your ears. Steph showed up two days late after your life was ruined. Steph had scolded you for finding company in someone else when you were vulnerable. Steph had been avoiding you for months. Steph never even thought you should marry Kenneth to begin with. And now Steph was talking like that fact was their burden all this time.

Your voice came out strangely calm, teetering on the edge of fury, when you asked, "You know I was with someone who couldn't even remember my favorite color, and you just let me stay with them?"

It was like something clicked in Steph's head, and they faltered. "I just… I--"

The steadiness of your voice wavered only slightly, still holding back to bulk of your anger. "No, you knew how little he cared and you just let things stay that way? You let me stay with him?"

"Maria, I--"

Unable to hold back any longer, you shouted, "You didn't think to say, 'hey Maria! In case you were doubting the biggest decision of your life, here's proof that you're not crazy! You really ARE going to be miserable if you marry him because Kenneth doesn't give two shits about you!'"

Steph's eyes were wide, and they almost looked hurt. "You thought you were going to be miserable?"

"Of course I thought that!" You snapped. "I never asked for this marriage! I was doing it for my family!"

Steph definitely looked hurt now. You didn't know if they were guilty or if they pitied you, but it didn't matter. You were so, so angry. And you couldn't stop yourself from crying as you ranted on. "You are my best friend! I listen to you more than anyone! I would've heard you out of you just TALKED to me! Instead, what, you shut me out entirely because you thought I was an idiot for marrying a man like that?!"

"No, Maria--"

"Or maybe it IS all my fault!" You were hysterical. "Maybe I should've tried even harder to talk to you, and to stop the marriage sooner! But you're just pretending like you care when I called you the night it happened, and when I texted you yesterday morning and night, to no response."

A long silence went on after that. You weren't looking at Steph. You couldn't. You furiously rubbed at your face to force yourself to stop crying.

Distantly, almost monotonously, you heard Steph say, "It's my job to care about you. And I do. It's not pretending, Maria."

Bitterly, and uncaring if Steph heard you or not, you muttered, "You've done a poor job of it lately."

You heard a strained intake of air, and knew that you had hurt Steph saying that. Maybe it was deserved. Maybe it wasn't. Maybe you were both huge fuck-ups who needed each other, and maybe you needed to be apart. You couldn't entertain any possibility right now. You could already feel your overwhelming emotions starting to shut you down. With your face still covered by your hands and sleeves, you could vaguely see Steph's shadow on the floor, and that they were reaching out for you, but stopping just before contact.

"I'm sorry." They said quietly, and you saw their shadow move away. The floorboard creaked as they got close to your door. "You have my number if you need me."

You listened as they left your room. You listened as the front door clicked open and shut. And you crumpled onto the floor of your room.

You held yourself tightly as silent cries wracked you, willing the pressure to be enough to calm down already. You always hated crying, feeling so helplessly out of control. You didn't know why you yelled at Steph like that. You shouldn't have. You said way too much. You didn't say nearly enough. But you were so frustrated with everything, and so hurt, you couldn't stop yourself.

Hot tears streamed down your face as soft footsteps drew near. Deliriously, you thought it was Steph, but as warm arms enveloped you into a hug, you recognized instantly that you were wrong.

Fucking hell Maria, you actually forgot that Ezra was here. That's another tally for you being a rotten friend. Still, you let yourself settle into their embrace and let out a soft sob. Here they were, comforting you yet again, when you didn't really deserve it. Their body was warm, their hug gentle yet firm enough to help you feel a semblance of security. You needed to push down your shame for now, and focus on your breathing.

Ezra's voice was muffled against you as they said, "It'll be okay, sugarcube."

They let you cry for a while, before moving their hands to cup your face and look at you. You flinched at the sudden touch, and while they paused, they didn't move away, holding you so lovingly -- if you could even use such a word -- that it was almost cruel. With their thumbs, they wiped your tears, and your body relaxed further, very unused to such contact, but unwilling to reject how soothing it felt.

Once again, you had far too much you needed to say, and far too few words to do it. You let out a sad sigh. "Ezra…?"

"Yes, sweetness?"

"I'm sorry if this--"

"No. Don't apologize. I know what you're going to say. 'I'm sorry if this is a lot to handle since we hardly know each other.'" Ezra's hands moved down to your arms, rubbing softly, and they leaned foward to press a small kiss onto your forehead, making you jolt with surprise. Ezra leaned away again and stared into your eyes with a kind smile. "Please don't fret too much about them. You texted them and they never responded… What kind of friend does that?"

Your face fell and you looked away from their gaze. You didn't want to talk about Steph right now.

Ezra carried on. "I'll be here for you whenever you need me, okay?"

You nodded silently as Ezra helped you into a stand, before pulling you into another hug. Distantly, you wondered if maybe it would be fine to rely on Ezra a little more. They had been nothing but patient and genuine with you, supporting you through chaos despite not knowing you well at all. And their hugs were nice, so unlike physical touch with other people you don't know well. Maybe… Maybe it would be okay.

You suddenly felt a gentle bite on your shoulder, and you let out a surprised yelp, reeling back with a bewildered expression.

Ezra who gave you a playful smile. "Sorry, you're just really cute…"

Baffled, you said, "I'm cute enough to chomp??"

Ezra gave a short laugh and buried their face into your neck, squeezing you tighter. "Yeah. You are." Their face felt warm against your skin. Were they… blushing?

Before you could ponder this interaction further, you heard a phone buzz, and Ezra pulled away from you. You watched as Ezra pulled his phone out of his pocket and began reading the notification, then he re-read it. Their face fell, and he stood up suddenly. "Sugarsnap I am so sorry, but I really have to go. Eliana -- my little sister -- needs me."

Before you could say anything or even stand up, Ezra grabbed his stuff and was already halfway out your front door. However, he quickly gave you a tightlipped smile as he shut your apartment door behind him.

You sat on the floor in stunned silence, bizarrely calm again, with streaks of dried tears on your face, wild hair, and a terribly hoarse throat.

What on Earth were you going to do today?

[lydia-too-late]

My Lalo. 

You’ve changed. Now my name on your lips is like — well, you remember the story with the forty thieves? Like that: Open sesame. The magic word to enter the cave in the mountain. To find the treasure. Lucky. What treasure have we ever had except each other? Except us. Gold would have been easier to keep. One must simply lock it away: a safe, a vault, a treasure chest, an enchanted mountain. Did you know how I suffered without you?

Maybe I don't dream, but my thoughts wander. Even before, when my bones dragged through their waking hours, I was lost. I had no appetite. When she came to me, this Fresa, flinty and scared and still a fledgling, I wanted to laugh. The arrogance. The stupidity. It was later, after, that I realized how similar our predicaments were. I often think about Reno. I wonder how quickly his body will turn to dust. Then I remember my own, crumbling into the foreign soil, and wonder: will his go faster? 

The days run long this time of year. She sleeps with me. Shares with me. I find shelter beneath the red rock, I find my arms full, my hair wet. I find the edge of the stoney shore. Refrains I never learned wander with me through this dark daytime terrain. I know my memories are changing.

But you, my Lalo. mi alma. You must’ve known I would find you, despite everything. What’s another death? I’m accustomed to it. I persist. My treasure. Mi milagro. My power, my will, remains. I find every piece of me that still exists, every drop of my own diluted blood. Here, you see me. Here, I say:

“Estoy aquí, Lalo—”

This passage contains a mash-up of Pablo Neruda's "Yo Volveré" ("I Will Return") and T. S. Eliot's "The Waste Land" (because of course it does). This is the mash-up with the Neruda in English and the Eliot in red:

Some other time, man or woman, traveler, later, when I am not alive, look here, look for me between stone and ocean, in the light storming through the foam Look here, look for me, —Yet when we came back, late, from the hyacinth garden, for here I will return, without saying a thing, your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not without voice, without mouth, pure, Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither here I will return to be the churning living nor dead,  of the water, of and I knew nothing, its unbroken heart, looking into the heart of light,  here, I will be discovered and lost: the silence here, I will, perhaps, be stone and silence. Desolate and empty is the sea

A little context: This is another weird one. (It's pretty much always weird, honestly.) In this scene, Tula is confessing to Silk that she killed and diablerized their packmate Luna.

Here, Luna -- who continues to haunt Tula, particularly during her daysleep -- is responding to Silk, who now knows, but she can only manage to force Tula to say a single thing ("I'm here, Lalo."). Luna is the only person who calls Silk by that name.

Luna was a Tzimisce, and for unknown reasons, was often sent on missions away from her pack (and Silk!) by Reno, the pack priest. It was during one of these that Tula confronted and killed her. She is holding a grudge, because she was likely weakened by her bane, and Reno would've known that.

But Luna is also starting to struggle to keep herself separate from Tula. Their memories/thoughts/feelings/knowledge are starting to blur into each other, losing their distinction. Tula is experiencing the same.

[sammyloomis]

while i was farming some soulrenders, i noticed these xray/research things about the bonded dotted around the starting area and thought they were pretty interesting!! ill transcribe the images under the cut since the text is pretty small

(apologies for any grammar or mispelling, i dont think these were proofread before they were textured fghj which is fair enough since they arent rly obvious background pieces)

image 1

Day 2: We’ve had this dwarvern type of person is cell [REDACTED] for two days now and I had the go to administer formula [REDACTED] to him. I slipped it into his food.

Day 6: It seems that the subject is adjusting very well to the dosage of formula I keep giving him. I will try to increase the dose.

Day 7: Subject 00047 lost his [REDACTED] during his sleep. It seemed... extremely painful. I guess the increase in dosage worked.

Day 8: An incredible thing happened today. When I passed by subject 00047′s cell today, I couldn’t see him. He was [REDACTED]. It seems he fed off his own [REDACTED] during the night and now he can [REDACTED]. This makes things interesting.

Day 9: We ran an X-Ray on the subject because we were curious how it could bend so much and “flap” when [REDACTED]. The boned on the subject have started [REDACTED] and it’s now closer to an [REDACTED] than to a human. We can see fragments of bones that are really far apart from each other. I suspect it greatly increases its buoyancy.

image 2

Day 1: Subject [REDACTED] has reacted well to the injection of [REDACTED]. Was released right after and went back to his usual “activities”. I am pleased as the past [REDACTED] subjects were gravely affected right away.

Day 5: The first 2 days following the injection, the skin of the subject started [REDACTED]. Although no changes in his behaviour, it seems like subject 00038 has started talking to [REDACTED] when he thinks he is alone.

Day 6: Subject 00038 now talks to an entity he calls “it”. It doesn’t even matter if we are with him now, it’s as if he considers “it” with us, constantly. Subject has been complaiing about his [REDACTED] itching and after taking a look, it seems something wants to come out. A sizable [REDACTED] can be seen.

Day 7: The days are quite agitated... Subject 00038 bit his [REDACTED] until he bled just to “feel” it as he called it. He regenerated his wound in a matter of minutes. I must admit I am worried if he even gets loose. I don’t think we have sufficient [REDACTED] in the facility to [REDACTED] him quickly.

Day 8: Subject 00038 got out of his cell...

image 3

Day 1: After ingestion of formula [REDACTED] the subject’s limbs started to rot. A putrid smell emenates from the wound. The creature has started feeling [REDACTED] at times.

Day 2: The next day, while the creature was [REDACTED] the arm fell off. It did not wake up, the arm is motionless. The smell is gone. It’s as if all life got drained out of it very quickly. The arrm crumbled into dust once it hit the ground.

Day 3: Subject [REDACTED]  woke up from his slumber and started “living” as if nothing at happened. The subject in conscious and seems to feel no pain or is unbothered by the fact [REDACTED]. The tissue of his suit is pushing near his limbs and it’s difficult to figure out what is this [REDACTED].

Day 16: [REDACTED] has been beaten to death by Subject [REDACTED], we are missing observations for the past 2 weeks. The arms of subject [REDACTED] have “grown” back into monstrous tentacles. I don’t know how long we’ll be able to keep it in his cells still... he started playing with the door...

image 4

Day 1: They brought [REDACTED] in the cell block today. This thing is... monstrous, savage, and cannibalistic. It killed 3 of our crew members when they tried to put it in the cell. I don’t feel safe even when it’s behind the walls...

Day 2: We injected some sort of [REDACTED] into the cell to weaken “it” and hopefully approach it to get some samples. This monster just... grew in size. It’s like an [REDACTED] on his back and it seems to feed off any source of pain or [REDACTED].

Day 4: The team and I, we’ve been discussing how to approach this new... problem. We asked around in the previous facility if they knew its genetic code to help us understand it. I can’t make sense of that sequence...

Day 8: We’ve been waiting for DAYS just to get more information from the previous facility. The creature has made significant dents in our “invincible” walls. Now we know they aren’t... Anyways, it appears that a prolonged exposure [REDACTED] caused this... monstrosity. I have no clue what his previous form was. His frame looks like subject [REDACTED].

Day 9: 16 casualties so far... we can’t keep this thing any longer. He ate them all.

[sizebrained]

Hazel's Second Night with Ben, Part 3

After lots of tension and panic, I wanted to lower the temp with an abundance of fluff. Ben finds Hazel in the morning. CW: Adult themes, mentions of panic attacks, fluff. *** Ben woke up slowly. One hand was curled up near his face, but it was empty. Hazel was gone again.

He pushed himself up off the ground until he was seated upright. He hadn’t moved from the spot where he fell last night during the storm.

He noticed how the new, bigger cast felt heavier on his leg, which made sense. It seemed not only longer but thicker.

He looked around his place thinking it was still night, but looking out his wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. It wasn’t night, it was still raining. Hard.

But thankfully, no lightning. He pulled himsef up by holding onto the countertop and pushing with his good leg. Then as he stood, Ben turned to face the kitchen and saw all of his cabinet doors above the countertop were open.

Either his place was haunted or it must have been Hazel. He looked around furiously for her, finding her curled up in a top cabinet shelf. She was asleep.

Maybe she was looking for food or something...Ben thought.

He went to say her name but stopped. He didn't want to risk her falling unexpectedly by waking her, she was so close to the edge of the shelf.

Instead, he balanced on his good leg, and held one hand up flat along the bottom of the cabinet where she laid. He reached up and very slowly scooted her across the wood until she was in his palm. He made sure to only push her along by the small of her back.

He avoided touching her tail. It was still weird to him that she had a tail. It was another obvious reminder, besides her size, that they were so different. But he was getting more used to both. She was so light. And she slid easily on the wood, not that there was far to go.

Thankfully, she was out cold. Even though it was just a few motions, it felt like it took forever to move her into his hand because he was doing it so slowly and delicately. He had brought his other hand up and over. He used them together like a makeshift dust pan and broom. He would not let her fall or tumble out of his grasp. Once she was fully in the center of his palm, Ben slid back down to the floor again sitting down. He was cradling her in his hands, and brought her up closer to his face.

Holding his palm flat, he pressed it against his own body so his chest made a wall on one side, freeing up his other hand. He couldn't believe something so small was having such a big impact on his life. Somehow that made sense in a way too. A few inches really and he would have been totally normal. Certainly not Big Ben.

Ben brought a finger down to stroke the side of her upper arm with just the tip of it, while she stayed silent sleeping in his hand.

It was nice to get to touch her like this. She was so little. She reminded him of a baby bunny for some reason. "Hazel..." he had whispered her name like he was sharing a secret. He stroked her arm again. This was definitely a different level of control than when he had to dribble or shoot. Ben felt like she might crumble if he touched her too hard. He could just barely feel the fabric covering her. It was rougher than he expected. He saw her stretch and was weirded out when her tail stood straight like it was made of wood. Then it curled around her lower body like a cat. He wasn’t sure if he would get used to that thing after all. Hazel could tell she wasn't laying on anything hard anymore. It took her a moment, before she recognized she was in a human hand. It had been a very long time since she got to feel one like this. Being cradled in a hand when she felt entirely safe…it was something she never hoped to lose once she had felt it for the first time with Mary.

She ran one of her palms against his far larger one, enjoying the skin to skin. It had been so, so long. She let her hand linger.

Then Hazel yawned before she spoke. "Good morning. I guess we were both rather tired and slept in. How are you feeling?" She turned her head up to look at him. Those eyes were staring down at her and her breath halted. "I'm ok now. What about you?" he asked just as his stomach grumbled shaking both of them. "Well I could eat…and so could you apparently." She said looking at his body filling her field of vision in and the unmistakable sound. "But while you were sleeping, I went through all of those cabinets. And after all that effort searching, you do not appear to have any actual food in this expansive kitchen of yours." She rolled onto her back now and crossed her arms behind her head.

Her tail was to one side swishing in slow rhythmic movements while she talked. "The other day you left me with the impression that you were in the habit of keeping food fit for consumption." She said with a mocking smile and a hint of judgment. "Oh...well Sam had brought that stuff over. She thinks I eat too much junk and processed food."

Ben said this feeling his cheeks flush red from her observation and how casual she was laying in his palm. It made him feel like he was a beach to her. He wasn’t totally sure what to make of the sensation or the idea. "And I would say I am liking your sister more and more then. Because I agree with her based on what you stock.”

She stretched again and then pushed herself up to stand in his palm. "Do you not even own a toaster? Or did you hide it in case of some sort of mad burglar amassing a toaster collection?" she asked. She had wanted to go through the drawers below the countertops too, but those are much trickier to open. "Uh maybe?" Ben said doubtful. "But I don't think I have any bread..." Hazel sighed and rubbed her eyes with her fingers. "Alright you go find that magic ordering machine of yours, we are going to need some things to get this situation sorted. I think Toad in a Hole will do nicely." Hazel said up at his confused face with a grin. "My phone?" Ben asked simply. "What is a toad in a hole?" *** End Part 3

[mirage-of-the-virtuoso]

Darkness...

Silence...

Calm, cold, collected.

My emotions do not control me.

Control myself, and serenity will follow.

I am no one's possession.

I am no one's pawn.

The choices I make are my own.

I will take my fate into my own hands.

A figure looms high over the Dreamdark Enclave, watching from the mushrooms above. They had snuck by the guards with the help of invisibility and have found a spot among the mushrooms and twisted vines where the mortars won't detect them, where the Courtiers and their pets can't detect them.

Be still...

Be silent...

The figure - a sylvari with blue skin, white leafy hair tied back, and a pale pink glow - watched from above. By now, the Courtiers and Kennelmasters should be wrapping up whatever party they're indulging in. They seem so... normal, in terms of what Sylvari would act like. Their beliefs are just different than Dreamers. They wanted independence, individuality, to embrace the darker parts of their soul and to crumble the idealistic perfectionism into dust. They see cultish noble-esque pawns obsessed with a stone, and their enemy sees them as maddened fanatics obsessed with setting the world ablaze.

It's difficult to remain as a neutral party. A spy for neither. But his Wyld Hunt relies on communication with the Firstborn and the Pale Tree. The Nightmare Court, while considered a threat in Caledon, is far from priority.

Would he even be welcome here? Would he even belong? In the end, he must be considered a "convert" and that didn't settle with him. He's not "switching sides", and he refuses to be another's willing pawn.

I am no one's pawn...

One of the Counts tried their luck, attempted to reason with him and lure him in with promises of mental freedom and a release from the shackles of the Pale Tree.

How he wished it were that simple, to just be discontent. How wrong they were; it's not the Pale Tree that keeps him paranoid, clouded with self-doubt, unable to sleep. No... it was something else.

Breathe in... Breathe out...

The courtiers dispersed, and only a few guards lingered. Right on schedule.

The lone Dreamer drops down carefully, keeping behind vines and mushrooms, ever-vigilant for any sign of detection. As needed, he used his Mantras to quickly tear apart mortars and burst blossoms. With the help of his Signet, his teleports, and his invisibility magic, he swiftly crossed the otherwise open clearing undetected and climbed the mushrooms on the other side. The stealth spell won't last for long, he just needs to be out of sight when it fades.

The sylvari hid amongst the nearest twisted vine, and ripped apart yet another mortar that activated with his presence. The courtiers took notice, but they shrugged it off. The mortars had apparently been going off with random animals and insects. No reason why it was different.

The trespasser took a silent breath and glanced around the corner. Still nothing out of place to them.

Now that he was on the other side to his exit, perhaps it was time to reduce their numbers...

He climbed closer to the top and began to hum an unknown melody. The sylvari left a clone behind to shatter, as one of the guards would try to investigate and by then, he would be too far to maintain it.

Before long, one of the courtiers bark at another to inform one of the Counts of a mesmer intrusion. Only one, but who knows how many more are lurking. This is sure to send them into a panic.

Another courtier or two joined in from below, overhearing the commotion. The sylvari's face began to have a suspicious grin on it. While he may not understand their appeal for senseless killing, he does understand the appeal for mind games. And what better mind game than trying to figure out if the trespasser is a Dreamer, gone rogue out of a sense of justice, or another dissident unhappy with the Grove, toying with the Court as a means of proving themselves of their usefulness.

Funny how the answer is just out of a simple boredom, spurred by a feeling of being eternally out of place.

The sylvari hurried along and climbed to his exit. Behind him, various clones were shattering and drawing attention.

Usually, he doesn't jump the gun and lure someone early. But he's particularly stressed and they just happen to be there. Wrong place, wrong time, poor unfortunate souls.

Once he makes it up there, he turns to the chest he had made use of up there and pulled out a pistol and sword hidden inside. The first courtier to show their face got taken out right between the eyes with a bullet. The second and third were startled, calling a warning before being silenced with one shot each. Fourth, fifth, and sixth drew their weapons, only to be caught up in a large circle and inflicted with various phantom sensation of chills, poisoning, and sudden weakness.

One of the veterans came from the rear, greatsword in hand, only to find the corpses of their fallen allies on the ground.

And a haunting melody being hummed from the lone sylvari mesmer.

The mask the trespasser wore, crafted to look obnoxiously happy, pissed the courtier off. With a battle cry, they lunged, clashed blades with the mesmer, and was taken by surprised by the pain of the mesmer's blade.

As they lay bleeding on the ground, they demanded to know their identity. With their final breath, they got their wish.

The mask came off, but held so the mask was shielding the tresspasser's face still from any stragglers bringing up the rear.

It was the Valiant that tricked and killed Renvari with Caithe. The one known as Chrysallus.

What was he doing here?? Did the Pale Tree send him?!

A group of courtiers stood by the mushrooms, and the one Chrys only knew as the "Duke of Terror" walked closer, rifle in hand.

When asked what he wanted, Chrys distorted his voice and replaced the mask, saying that he wanted nothing. He was bored and they interrupted his period of solitude. He said they had a choice: either he can use this spot as a place to relax without interruption and therefore spare them the trouble of replacing more courtiers and relocating, or he would come back during the day and destroy the entire camp.

What guarantee did they have that this mesmer would keep his word? The most the sylvari offered was this: "See for yourself for two nights. Leave me unharmed, and I'll see to it that you are undisturbed by Dreamers. I only wish for my mind to be at peace."

The Duke told him that his request is laughable at best, and that there was nothing stopping him from killing the trespasser here and now.

"I'll take that as a no, then?"

The simple question was laced with an unsettling calmness, sending an odd chill down the spines of some of the newer courtiers.

"Suit yourself, I suppose. Should you change your mind on my offer..." The mesmer tapped the chest beside him. "Just leave me a sign of a peace offering. You have 24 hours. After that, what harm comes to your camp is on your hands."

With that, a couple of the feral hounds snapped free of their leashes and lunged at the mesmer, only to have him distort, then shatter, then disappear off the edge of the cliff.

A courtier hurried over to see where he had gone, but by then, there was no trace of him.

Two squads were sent out to search for the mesmer, but by morning, only three courtiers returned, half-scared out of their wits and insistent that "the Siren" was coming for them, that they were next.

Impressed by the display of showmanship and profiency at mental torture, the Duke reconsidered, and awaited the so-called "Siren" upon the high ledges of the Enclave.

And sure enough, he returned, as promised. The Duke asked why the mesmer expressed discontent with both the Grove and the Court. Were their goals not the same? To break free of Ventari's Tablet and cut off from the Pale Tree?

"No. As I've said previously, I only wanted some peace of mind. Silence has it's benefits, but I much prefer to be an observer. The background noise helps with collecting my thoughts. No offense to the Court, but I am ill-suited for them as I am for the Grove. I'm better off on my own."

The Duke of Terror told him that, should he ever change his mind and wish to be a full member of the Court, to only say the word and reveal his identity. That he earned his two nights of solitude.

"Siren" was expressed his gratitude, but warned that this doesn't mean a permanent alliance. It was just fortunate that the Dreamers wouldn't come near this place because of the Court.

[canary0]

June 25th - Dracula 2023

The morning light felt unspeakably beautiful this morning after yesterday’s events. That poor woman and child, and the one before, as well. Those women. Just… everything. With all of that, the sunlight seemed to light up my mind and heart like and a beacon and I felt a sudden drive. I need to take action while I have daylight.

I haven’t seen the Count during the day, and my problems always happen at night. The fact that the Count manipulated my sleep schedule to be awake at night seems all the more telling after everything. I have to assume that he also sleeps at night. I’d like to be able to get to his room to find out, but there’s no way.

… That’s not true, though, is it? There is a way. His way.

There’s no reason I shouldn’t be able to clamber down the walls. It’s risky – I don’t have his strength or… whatever else he has going on. I have four days left before the final letter date, though, so I don’t exactly have time to waste. I either die now or I wait around for the slaughter. I’d rather take my chances on the risk.

If I fail… Goodbye Mina. I love you more than words can say. Goodbye, Mr. Hawkins, my friend, mentor, and second father. Goodbye everyone.

–

I made it. I can hardly believe it.

I left my room via the window as soon as I was finished writing; I needed to go while the light was bright and bolstering my courage. There’s a narrow ledge around the building in and south, and unlike my room, that window doesn’t have bars. I was relieved to confirm what I’ve noticed before – the stones are large and rough, and the mortar has been washed pretty deep by rain and snow. Not great for structural integrity – and probably what happened to the broken walls I noticed higher up when I first arrived – but great for climbing. There were plenty of natural hand and footholds. I didn’t trust my boots to be able to fit the gaps, so I took them off to start my climb. I looked down once to make sure I wasn’t going to get vertigo and fall due to that, then hurried on my way.

It didn’t take long, and the window sill was wide enough that I could stand on it while I opened the window. I slid in, and, rather than the count, I found a room not unlike the one I found when I first encountered those women. It had a few odds and ends of things, but everything was covered in dust. It didn’t look lived in at all. There was no key around – hardly a surprise – but there was, of all things, a big pile of gold in the corner. Like everything else, it was dusty, and all of the coins looked incredibly old. I don’t know enough about coinage to be able to accurately date it, but it was in all sorts of languages of the surrounding regions, and the uneven stamping makes me think they must be at least a couple hundred years old.

There was a second door in there besides the locked one, and it led to a steep stairway that wound downward into darkness. I went carefully – the whole stairwell was only lit by medieval arrow slits. At the bottom was an arched masonry tunnel, and I could smell the scent of earth and death. I’ve never been interested in what putrescence smelled like, and if I never have to discover it again, it will be too soon.

I went down it, the smell intensifying as I went, and pull open a heavy, old door that was already partly cracked. The room beyond was something of a mystery. It was a chapel, of course, with its vaulted roof that was now broken and windows that must have been beautiful in their time. Now it seems to have been converted into a graveyard, complete with some old vaults in the back. Why would someone turn a chapel into the graveyard instead of having one outside of it, though? Why would the only entrance be that winding stairway? I even looked around the crumbling walls for an exit and there was nothing.

I did eye the broken ceiling and give some consideration to climbing the walls and using that as an escape, but the mortar wasn’t as bad inside, even with as little shelter as it has. Also of note, the boxes that had been brought in before were here now and filled with dirt from the graveyard/chapel. It explained the heavy scent of earth and rot I had picked up earlier.

I checked in the vaults for an exit, and while one just had dust and broken remains of coffins, the other contained another shock. In one of the now 50 boxes of dirt lay the Count. He was dead or asleep. His eyes were open, but they weren’t glazed over. His skin looked alive and lips were still very red. There was no breathing or pulse. The box’s cover was nearby, pierced with holes like a butterfly jar. I thought he might have the keys on him – no, he almost certainly did – but when I started to look, I caught his eyes. They hadn’t moved, yet the hate in them pierced me and I hurried off, back up here to my room.

I’m still breathing heavily as I write this. I need to think, but I can’t help but remember some advice I hard a long time ago – to always treat someone in a coma as if they can hear you.

(A/N: Happy Belated June 25th!

Sorry for the late posting!

Dating stuff is hard. Stoker. Be les confusing. My brain too dum.)

[baeaecha26]

Chapter 28: Abandoned Together

The sun hung low in the sky as if mourning the blood that had soaked the scorched earth, painting the horizon in shades of despair. Ti and Kaipa stood in the heart of the once-thriving village, now silent, the laughter and joy of better days snuffed out by the devastating hand of war. Everywhere they looked, destruction reigned - houses crumbled, roofs collapsed in surrender, the once-half-constructed market a testament to dreams cruelly wrenched away by time's relentless march.

As they moved through the village, the shadows cast by the broken walls and pillars seemed to dance a mournful waltz, reaching and retreating as if seeking solace in their shared despair. The wind whispered words of sorrow, its voice a soft lament for all that had been lost and could never be restored.

"It's… it was beautiful, in its way," Kaipa said, his voice as brittle as the tattered banners that hung limply from the few remaining windows. "As if death had come silently through the night and claimed the inhabitants in their sleep."

Ti nodded, unable to speak, his throat tight with the weight of a hundred unspoken regrets. His thoughts were a slow-drowning sea of guilt and sorrow that threatened to pull him under with each step they took through the forsaken streets.

A sudden creaking set them both on edge, weapons at the ready as they instinctively backed away from a precariously balanced tower of debris. As they stood, poised for battle, the structure gave a pained groan before collapsing to the ground in a cloud of dust and shattered dreams.

It took a few moments for their breathing to slow, the frantic drumming of their hearts a testament to the ever-present shadow of danger they both carried. As the dust settled, they exchanged a glance, both sets of eyes wide with the realization of what they had just done.

They had moved, without a word, without hesitation, to protect each other.

They stared at each other, their breaths heavy, their eyes filled with questions they dared not voice. A sudden gust of wind whirled about them, lifting the dust from the ruined tower and then, like a remnant of the ghosts that haunted these streets, blew it across the village and out into the empty night.

"What now?" Kaipa asked softly, his voice quivering like a fawn taking its first steps. He reached for him as if to banish the ghosts that lingered at the corner of his mind, his hands shaking with the weight of his unspoken desires.

"I'm not sure," Ti admitted, his voice cracking like dry reeds rustling in a dying wind. He stared into his eyes, lost in the untamed tempest that roared just beneath the surface. "All I know is… I can't go back. Not to the life I knew before."

"We can't stay here," Kaipa whispered, his eyes dark with war, his voice as hard as tempered steel. "If we do… the shadows will claim us as well."

He took his hand, the first touch of a fragile alliance made in the face of unfathomable odds. "Then we must move forward. Together. Through the shadows, into whatever … this is." And as they clasped hands, their broken hearts echoing the ghostly chorus of the wind and the ruins, the first step toward a new uncertain future was taken.

As they ventured deeper into the village, a wave of resignation seemed to settle over them. The two warriors had long been taught to loathe one another, to see each other as the enemy that must be destroyed. The feeling of their fingers intertwined, the warmth of their skin against one another in this desolate landscape, was both a lifeline to cling to and a question of loyalty they had never been taught how to answer.

A sudden rustling caught their attention, and they both instinctively drew away, their fingers slipping apart like the final notes of an unfinished symphony. They scanned the desolate surroundings, their breaths held in anticipation, but there was no further sign of life.

"That first night…" Ti began, his voice breaking the silence with the hesitation of a thousand unspoken fears. "When we discovered that the artifact had bound us together in some way… I remember thinking how cruel fate was to have brought us here, to have left us adrift in this ocean of despair."

Kaipa glanced at him, his eyes softening with a glimmer of understanding. "And I remember wondering how on earth I could ever find it in my heart to trust you," he replied, his words carefully skirting the truth that lay between them. "And yet…"

The words hung there, as if whispered into the wind, left to drift between the empty husks of homes that once thrived with life. Their ghosts prowled every corner, watching in silence as these two adversaries grappled with the threads of a connection they could not yet understand, one that trembled with the possibility of offering hope in a world that had all but forgotten its face.

As they stood before the haunting remains of what had been taken from them, Ti and Kaipa were reminded of the cost of their love. There, amidst the ruins of a village where death and memory were the only occupants, they realized that their love, once ignited, would send ripples through the delicate balance of the war that had consumed their lives.

Together, they would challenge fate, stand against the ever-darkened world that sought to swallow them whole, and ultimately bear the scars that would mark the dawning of a new beginning for their fractured people.

[fighting-these-demons]

Bucch*g*ri Liveblog ep 2

Ok so intro kicks in RIGHT where we left off.

Slicked hair and Incest Ingenue are checking in on Green Gobblin'

His half-up do just turned into a heart in the back so my call before was Spot On.

He was trying to catch Arajin before he realized Arajin was on a date with his sister.

The Fountain is going off as he's about to stand up and I assume throw himself at Arajin.

He makes a heart with his hands as he stands up and blows a kiss with a wink as he kicks him clear to tomorrow.

Yep! 😂 Dang why's he gotta be on the Nazi team????

Kiss With A Fist ought to be playing in the background!

DJEISJSNSJ

MATAKARA SAVE HIM!!!!!! 😱

Yeah Green Gobblin' is absolutely Down Bad. Arajin was already his type before he left a mark to remember him by and now he's all Green Goblin' is gonna be thinking about.

OP 🎻🎵🥁🪘🎶🎹🎶

Oh thank God he hasn't been sleeping outside his house is just old!

He thinks he won! 😂

Dbsisnsjsjsn THEY HAVE A BEST FRIEND STONE!!!!! 💖💖💖💖

Oof!

Damn it's like I guessed. :(

Damn I'm so sad this wound up teacher aint dating the Cat Man. 😭💔

What if it's Just A Cat and not a woman at all? The dialogue is so extreme and so one sided that it has to be.

So..... if it's an Actual Cat then that means Cat Man's got a chance!!! 💖💖💖 GO CAT MAN GO!!!!

HEEISNSNSJSJ

HE LOST HIS PANTS IN FRONT OF TEAL TERROR OH NO

Wait a damn minute!!! Could he see him?????

Lmao the little shampoo guard on that big ol man! 😂 Gap Moe!

EHDIDJSJSJ

A TRAMP STAMP?!?!?!?!?!??!

You've gotta be kidding!!!! 😂😂😂😂😂

Well now Matakara MUST have one too! I bet he's got the other genie and that the heart shape teams stamp printed on his shirt is what's above his ass crack too.

EHSJSJSBSJSJSJ HE WAS LOOKING AT IT?!?!?!?!, LMAO

😱

Nooooooooooo DUDE NOOOOOO

Oh Thank God

Also lmao this kid is either So Straight or So Repressed but he's caught in the whirlwinds of a BL anime! 😂

JESUS what kind of answer?????

The framing in this show is Too Much! 😂

Green Gobblin' built an entire hideout and Fight Club to avoid his sexually fixated little sister. Damn.

He said "Get Lost Girl"

Ooooooh I wonder what Jabashiri has against Matakara?

She's jealous that he let him have a bite and not her!!! 😂 I hate this trope but this is funny seeing it the other way around for once.

That or she has beef with Pink Hair Green Eyes.

I love them! They're so Tsuboe coded! 💖💖💖

Dbdidjsjsj RUN ARAJIN!!!!

Oh Damn!!! I LOVE Minato Kai's hangout!!!

So he DID see it and he has spiritual awareness!!!!!

LMAO he's SO JEALOUS!!!! "I don't get it. What do you see in that jerk." While kicking and shuffling his feet!!! 😭💔💖

You're a piece of shit but I'm still sorta rooting for you three!!!

THE AUDACITY!!!!

Man like he'd tell YOU after he had to fish him out of the pond!!!

He still needs to get a handle on tuning Big Man out lmao!

!!!!!!!! PURPLE HAIRED GIRL IS SO SO SO SO CUTE!!!!!!!

Son jumped out the fuckin window God Bless h has great instincts and knows how to run!

🏃

Of course you do girl.

🤦‍♀️

Jesus who failed her??? Why is she like this??? Why didn't her parents step in when she started being creepy at home???? Can she be fixed/saved???? I really want to like her. 😞

It'd be cute that she made a plush of her crush if it wasn't her brother.

LMAO BOY SHE DOES NOT CARE ABOUT YOU PLEASE

WBSISJSBSJSJSBSJSJSV

DAMN it crumbled to DUST on impact!

SJSJSJDJSUSHSBSUDHSHHSB

YES THANK YOU

Maybe a few hard right hooks will beat some sense into her. 😂

Oh shit she's gonna kill him 😱 ARAJIN RUN HER TACTICS ARE WORSE THAN HER BROTHER'S!!!!!!!!

OOOOOOOOH the straight haired Matakara look alike is an allusion to his dead brother maybe possessing him?

Ghost shenanigans?

OH SHIT HES IN PRISON

Why is he in prison? The Japanese justice system tends to railroad people afaik so is he actually even guilty of whatever he's in there for?

Oh how brother is SO FINE but I have a TERRIBLE FEELING

ARAJIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNN!!!!!

MATAKARA STILL HAS HIS LOVE FOREVER STONE!!!!!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭💖💖💖💖FACE YOUR GUILT AND LOVE HIM!!!!!

Damn Teal Terror is so fucking pissed I'm surprised he isn't ripping the juice box apart with his teeth! 😂

Javascript LMAO I'm keeping that typo as his nickname!!!! 🤣🤣🤣🤣

Javascript said "NOT MY MAN YOU'RE NOT!!!"

💥

Oh hey! Teal Terror name is Zabu!

Oh I Love Javascript!!! 💖💖💖💖💖 It's that taco bell obvious type meme.

IN THE FOUNTAIN?!?!?!?!?!

Amazing. 10/10 👍👍👍👌👌👌👏👏👏👏👏

I LOVE HIS FIGHTING STYLE YAAAAAAY He fights like Tsume and Spike!!! 💖💖💖

It helps that he's my favorite colors too. 😌💖

Cropped Jacket!!! 💖💖💖👌

(Man why'd you choose to fight in water in white pants though you're gonna look like you pissed yourself when you get out)

You gotta be kidding me. I love gags and they couldn't have had like 1 serious moment? You've gotta let a few moments land to make the jokes funny.

THEIR JACKETS MATCH!!! 💖💖💖

Djsisnsj I love this genie! Gnaw him babe!!! Bite him! He's like a big angry cat and I love it! 🤣

Oh wow so he's able to ignore Mister Megaphone when he's paying attention to and worried about Matakara? 👀

Damn he always leaves.

So he's willing to fight fir this girl that hates him and told him specifically that if he fights her brother again that she'll kill him.

Assuming that she'll love him if he does or agree to date him.

But he won't face the guilt and just apologize to Matakara?

Shit that's gotta be rough being held back 3 tines in high school. Like they just want kids out at that point and it looks like the student body gets passed through no matter what there.

What did ge do to get held back????????

Damn could you imagine being 21 in high school???

This man is 21 and somehow looks like a 41yo MEAL

YES MY FAVIRITE MAN IS ON THE SCENE!!!!!! 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

HE CAN DO NO WRONG HES SO HOT

SAY AND DO ANYTHING BEAUTIFUL!!!!! IT'S A-OK WITH ME!!!!!!!!!! 💖💖💖💖👍👍👍👍

He looks like Ryu with a RAD color palette!!

IS THAT CHEST HAIR OR A TATTOO???

boy noooooo 😫😖😭

Not in a room full of your classmates. 😞

He's so deep in denial that he'll never give his true wish to apologize and rekindle his friendship with Matakara and protect Matakara. 😞😭💔

I love how It's Always Toss Him Tuesday when this little shit is around. So gratifying. 😌👏👏👏

I love you so much Matakara and you deserve so much better but I LOVE YOUR DEVOTION!!!! 💖💖💖 GO SAVE UR MAN!!!!

YOUVE GOTTA BE FUCKING KIDDING ME MY GUY

YOUVE GOTTA BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!!!!!

🤯😨

HE AINT SHIT!!!!!

🤬😤

I'M ON TEAM TEAL TERROR EVERYONE LOVES THIS PIECE OF SHIT FOR NO GODDAMN REASON (except Matakara he has a good reason!)

😫😭💔

Dude I had to get up and walk.

I was trying to be patient but he really is just the most annoying protagonist. I normally don't watch shows with protagonists like this but I sort of just want to watch it to see him get his ass beat now. 😒

Poor Matakara (the Real Protagonist) has to beat his boss to even have a shot at Arajin within the confines of their group's hierarchy!!! 😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔

My boy needs a fuckin break!!!!! 😭😞

WBSIDJSJDHSBSUSH

My instincts kicked in and I shouted "RUN!!!" before he stopped at the window and I remembered I hate this dumb fictional guy actually!

Please Let The Looney Tunes Violence Commence!!!! 🎺🎶🎺🎶🎻🎻🎻🎶🎺🎺🎺🎺🎵🥁💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

DAMN HE LOOKS SO COOL BUSTIN THROUGH THAT WINDOW JESUS!!!!

WHWJSBSJSJSBSH

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH 🤣🤣🤣🤣

GOOD FOR YOU MY GUY!!!!! YOU CAUGHT HIM THIS TIME!!!!

Idk if the other guys don't sense how fucking fruity he is or if they're so scared if him that they collectively let it slide.

FORMAL SPEECH WHEN HES SCARED LMAO that's precious but I still don't like him. 😤

SHES GONNA POISON HIM ONCE HE JOINS

GO GIRL GO

Well hey callingbhim brother may actually kick in his disgust reflex so she may be onto something there.

Aw dang thats unfortunate. 😕

NOOOOOOO MATAKARAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔💔

HE WAS HAVING A GOOD DAY THEN THIS!!!!!!

😭

Oh dang that arm around the shoulder!!!

👀

The only part I like about the ED is the boys in cute clothes and Matakara at the end with his little hand heart.

You know, now that I've decided that Matakara is the Actual Protagonist and I'm watching to see what happens to him I think I can make it!

😁

ONWARDS!!!! HYAH!!!!!!

🏇

(There ought to be a cowboy version of the horseback riding emoji dang)