#it just makes me sad knowing my experiences with them will just be faint memories as soon as i wake up

[bratdotcom]

Sometimes I love someone so much i pray that by the time I see them again they can find my love for them anywhere they look whether that be little trinkets or the color pink I just hope I'm always there for them even if I'm not beside them anymore. I want them to know I love them and that even if I'm not there with them, I'm still there. Does anyone else get that feeling or no. because it weighs in my head the way a sick dog clings to its owner and it makes me feel a love I can't explain

[jamesleecult]

James lee x gn!reader : In case you come back one day.

The reader rants about their past relationships experience on a song comment section they recently listened to.

note: James kinda ooc(?), attempted to angst. I was planning to make it like the reader view, like their feelings then what happened(flashback or smthg idk) but I’m lazy. Not proof read, I’m bad. Reader kinda still hung up, if you squint enough I’m kinda listening to a sad song rn. Bold font for the typing and the italicized for flashback. (Plottwist dg wrote the song and saw the comment lol) with the help of Grammarly.

During the midnight hour, their finger danced across the keyboard, each keystroke echoing in the quiet room. Blending with the faint whirr of the glowing screen with melody’s in the background.

The sounds of the faint tapping on the keys stopped, few moments later - a sound of clicking can be heard as they began to typed again.

I've met it fresh and hot, it was years ago, yet it felt like yesterday. Actually, I've been walking so far that I can start again with someone else, but in my heart I secretly ask a question. Do I really still have a spot left for him?

In their distant and hazy memories, They shared soft whispers and laughter, the gentle breeze carrying their words like secrets through the air. With each stolen glance and faint smiles.

Or always ask myself that do I love the person in front of me equally to that person. Until now.

In the dimly lit ambiance of their favorite spot, he sat across from them- on the side, his demeanor cool and composed, concealing the turmoil within. They sensed a distance growing, a chill settling in the air.

“We need to talk,” he began, his voice steady, devoid of emotion, easily making their pulse quickened, a knot forming in the stomach.

"I met a lot of people, but in the end, no one can replace you." Right into the hook. I realized, I didn't intend to hurt the person infront of me.

“What’s wrong?”

I just want myself to try and start again, but now I understand that.

“This,” the red haired boy, he gestured subtly between them, “isn’t working anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

I did never stop loving or stop missing him at all.

Confusion etched across their face, so many questions left unanswered. He met their gaze, his eyes holding a depth they couldn’t fathom.

“I’m leaving.”

I wanna say something in case, even if I never get the chance to tell him.

“Leaving? Why?” Panic rising within them making their heart skipped a beat.

“I can’t stay,” the tall boy stated firmly, his tone unwavering. “It’s not safe for you.”

They searched his eyes for answers, finding only resolve. “Not safe? What are you talking about?—That’s not true. We love each other. We can work through whatever it is!”

I got so many questions that was never answered, you left with no room for me to ask further more. What’s happening? Did I do something wrong?

As they spoke, he looked away, sighing at their persistence. Unable to meet their gaze. “No, you don’t understand. I’m.. I’m dangerous.”

Their brows furrowed in confusion and annoyance. “What do you mean, dangerous?”

“I can’t explain” he said, his voice barely a whisper in disappointment. “But you need to trust me. You need to let me go.. there are things you don’t know about me. Things that could put you in danger if I stay.”

Their mind raced, trying to make sense of his words. “But I don’t understand. We are together, we love each other- why are you leaving me with just.. short explanations?”

Then you just disappeared for no reason. I couldn’t find you, as if you were gone.

“…farewell.”

And with that he just walked away, coldly stood up- leaving them sitting there, alone with nothing but unanswered questions and a heart heavy with sorrow.

I still have a spot left for you in my feelings, always will be the one for you, In case you come back one day.

After hours of uninterrupted typing, they finally halted, their hands hovering over the keyboard as they took a moment to gather their thoughts. Pressing the final key—

The soft click of the laptop lid echoing in the now silent room.

[hils79]

Hils Watches Lovely Runner - Ep 15

Wait, what? She was totally fine at the end of the last episode

Ah, it's so he can be the hero and carry her to safety. Where did this crowd come from, though? The amusement park was deserted when they got on the ferris wheel

Of course he took her to his place instead of the hospital. Not sure where the IV came from though.

Aww it's a reversal of the time he was passed out in her brother's bed and grabbed hold of her hand

Good old drama medicine. One IV and some sleep and you're totally fine the next day

See! She's asking the same questions as me. This is why I love her.

Oh well that explains the IV

Is he seriously going to suggest that to thank him for 'saving her life' she should let him be in her movie?

Wait, they didn't immediately claim their prize money???

Look at him sitting in his car rehearsing what to say like a nerd (affectionate)

How does an only child who has no kids of his own know so much about how to take care of a baby, but Im Sol who has multiple neices and nephews has no clue?

Ehehe! That's what you get for being so smug about your childcare abilities

Oh hello

Aww and this is like the time he made her hide in his closet. Everything is in reverse in this timeline.

I feel like I recognise those posters behind him but not sure what they are

Oh sweetie...

You know, 15 episodes in and he still really looks like someone I know but I can't put my finger on who. I think maybe it's an amalgam of a few different idols. Like a bit of Jin and a bit of Taemin

I love that the two of them are literally idols and Inhyuk is like 'remember that super hot and popular boy we went to school with'

Ooh he's having flashbacks again. I'm curious which version of events he's remembering. Because she travelled back 3 times and changed different things each time before the 4th time where she made it so that they never met

I mean I have no idea how much houses cost in Korea but even if you blow it all on a house you still have your incomes and no mortgage or rent to pay

LMAO the reason they got such a low prize (it's just over £200k for me) is because he got drunk and told everyone in line the numbers so 50 people won the jackpot

Dude as been begging to do this movie for ages and as soon as he signs on he immediately wants to change the ending. Like I know we, as the audience, understand why. But to anyone else this just makes him look like a diva

Oh no it's sad Jongho song time

Poor Im Sol. Two confessions in one day. One from a person she can't be with, and one from a person she doesn't want to be with

Ooh is he starting to remember the previous timelines too?

Okay, I love this idea. I'm getting all emotional.

Aww he wrote the song about her again even though he doesn't have the experience of meeting her in the rain. Because his memories are part of his soul.

6 years for attempted murder seems very low. Now I'm looking up the average sentence time for attempted murder and I'm probably on some sort of watch list now. Obv I don't know what it's like in Korea but in the UK you would only get 6 years if it was something like self-defence

Well that was very dramatic. I was so invested in what was happening I forgot to pause and liveblog

Ah, he does remember everything. All versions of events. Well, no wonder he fainted. That's a lot to take in.

[menciemeer]

The thing about Hannibal's punishment of Mason is that Mason was delighted the entire time.

Hannibal could have done absolutely anything he wanted after murdering all of Mason's bodyguards and spiriting him back to Wolf Trap. One assumes that Hannibal doesn't carry his insane psychedelic mixture with him everywhere--the fact that he uses it on Mason implies that he had an opportunity to go to his office or his house. He could have disappeared Mason into his basement if he really wanted to. His plan is hardly discreet--even if he didn't want to kill Mason without Will, there's any number of fun surgical activities he could have got up to while Will was making his way back home.

He doesn't, though.

Mason has a great time being Hannibal Lecter's victim. "I am enchanted and....terrified," he says, but the terror doesn't truly seem to bother him. He says it playfully, and with laughter. His fear is only one aspect of his experience, and his enchantment is the thread that runs much closer to the surface.

The only complaint he offers the entire time, in fact, is "I'm hungry," and he seems more than content with Hannibal's proposed solution to that problem. (I suppose "a taste and consistency similar to that of chicken gizzard" might not be complementary--I wouldn't know; I don't carnivore.)

It's sweet, actually, and horrifyingly sad, the way he interacts with Will's dogs. "I just love your dogs," he says, and he genuinely seems to enjoy feeding them and petting them, but the story he tells about his own dogs is, well--

I adopted some dogs from the shelter once, two dogs that were friends. I had them in a cage together with no food and fresh water. One of them died hungry. The other had a warm meal.

The question, then: What was Hannibal getting out of this? He was more than willing to let Will kill Mason. He would have let Mason die happy--the happiest, maybe, that we ever see him. Hannibal's decision to paralyze him reads more like whimsy to me than like a continuation of his plan to bring Mason to Wolf Trap--I honestly think he expected Will to kill him. And he didn't suspect Will of being a double agent yet; leaving Mason alive is a much riskier choice than killing him and hiding the body. (And, in fact, it's a choice that ends up having consequences down the line.)

"I employ an ethical butcher," Hannibal says, in Coquilles. On the face of it, the statement is absurd, but through S2, between Gideon and Miriam and Mason and even James Gray, it starts to make sense. It seems much more important for Hannibal to be able to exert control over the subjective experiences of his victims than for those experiences to be painful, in particular. Even Gideon, fresh from his own amputation, seems to be mostly bothered by just the idea of eating himself.

I'm fiercely curious about all the murders we don't see, about Cassie Boyle and Jeremy Olmstead and Andrew Caldwell--and, and, and. It's hard to imagine that he managed to do everything he did humanely--but then again, in Naka-choko, he says, "Apart from humane considerations, it's more flavorful for animals to be stress-free prior to slaughter." --Implying that humane considerations is actually something he thinks about. If anyone could manage to cut someone's lungs out and keep them comfortable the entire time, I suppose it would be Hannibal.

The really interesting thing, for me, is the way all of this breaks down in Mizumoto and S3. Gutting Will wasn't about exerting a lofty control over Will's experiences--it was about making Will hurt in the way that Hannibal was hurt. Then, slitting Abigail's throat--and then, much later, bludgeoning Antony to death, slowly enough to allow him to allow him the faint hope of crawling towards the door.

Those are, to my memory, the times when we see Hannibal actively trying to cause pain (--and not in the middle of fighting for his life). The striking thing about them is of course that all of them are inexorably bound up in Will and his feelings about Will.

There's something perversely delightful to me in the idea that Will awakened a particular kind of cruelty in Hannibal, parallel to the kind of cruelty Hannibal awakened in Will. Every time Will imagines killing Hannibal, he imagines Hannibal calm and even pleased by what's happening to him. Will's brand of bloodlust goes outwards. He wants to rip Randall Tier's mechanical suit off his body and kill him with his hands--make him die afraid. He wants Clark Ingram to fight back before Will murders him.

Hannibal's sadism, on the other hand, seems to have a very specific target. "Did you think you could change me?" Hannibal asks, standing in the bloody wreck of his own kitchen, while Will gasps and hurts and struggles to hold his guts together. Well--didn't he?

[nymime]

TW: child abuse, bad words, homophobia, f*g and f*iry. Mentions of sexual abuse someone.

This just my theory why Steve yells homophobic shit to Jonathan in S1. Enjoy!

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When steve was around 11, close to 12, had his first experience with porn, specifically gay porn. And is not a happy memory. Until the present, what happened that day in the afternoon, haunt him.

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He was in the living room, watching a movie with his mamma, resently they both moves of his nonna’s house to stars living with his “father”, his mamma’s husband from 5 years ago. Richard it wasn’t his real dad, no, his real pappa would never do what Richard did that day. Anyways, they where watching “Jailhouse Rock”, his mamma was teaching him her first crush celebrity actor, in words of her “farle cadere le mutandine” (make her panties fall), he doesn’t understand what she means, but that alright, he only cares of how Elvis unto his belly get butterflies, he tells that to his mamma, she laugh, enchanted for that, but Richard who was listening from his office wasn’t enchanted, not even a little happy for that.

Mother and son just heard a loud slam of the front door, ignoring how everything would change.

After an hour, Richard came back, with loud steps and a face red as his tie, he step in front of the TV, kneeling on the floor, he takes out the movie VHS, throwing it troughs the living room, scaring Steve and his mamma, who stands up and walks slowly to Richard. The man put the VHS he brought, starting immediately with loud mouns and skin hit skin, two man’s where having sex. Mamma gasp while she runs to the VCR trying to take out the porn movie but Richard hit her, making her falls at the strong slap, Mamma hit her head in the center table, she pass out.

While that’s happen, steve was shaking of fear, he never saw his mamma fall like, he never thought that he ever feel that amount of pure fear in his little body. He let out a squeak of pain and surprise by the strong but suddenly grip he felt in his hair. Steve nearly falls into his knees cause Richard force him to stand and walk to the TV which was playing the two guys fuck. The man start’s forcing Steve to watch them fuck while Richard screams at him obscenities: “would you like to be touched like this?” “feel a cock fuck you like that? hm?” “disgusting fucking fairy! i will not accept my stepson being a fag!” “answer me you stupid son of a bicth!” steve let out the tears he was holding from before, when Richard punch his mamma. This goes for a good couple of minutes, until Steve could stutter a little “no, sir”, Richard push him to the screen of the TV and after let him go, Richard left the room. The little brunette was now hiccuping for air while he continues crying, he crowls to his fainted mamma, who was starting to wake up, she hug him and covers his ears, apologizing with a low sad voice, she began to hum and sing softly trying to comfort him. They both cry until the porn ends.

After that day mamma left with Richard in every job trip he has, not because she wants to, because Richard threat her that he would make Steve a “man” with a prostitute. She was scared, but always calls Steve to remind him that she loves him, and he knows.

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[altheneum-library]

||°~ "Are you lost?" ~°||

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Lambert's POV:

After Y/N and The One Who Waits reunited together, I had questioned them what their relationship was like with him. Their reply to me was quite interesting as I had assumed they were dad and child at first...some may know it sounds weird but have I even heard an older sibling call their younger sibling 'their young' before? 

and yet...

their relationship... it brought me some memories of my past that I wish to forget, yet I cherish them more than I could imagine. I can never lose such memories of my mother...her smile, her warmth, her cooking...her hugs and lullabies.... ...her voice...

tears stung my eyes as I blinked..I think twice before starting to hurriedly wipe them away as to try and not let anyone notice, I looked around a bit, when I saw nobody noticing at all, I took a sigh of relief. 

I then took a glance up and saw that Y/N was talking with Ratau, seeming like they had asked him a question beforehand because I saw him nodding and heard him agreeing with teaching me something. They both looked at me, I was a bit surprised at first but regained my composure quickly. 

Y/N approached me and put a paw on my shoulder, opening their mouth. "little lamb, I am afraid this is where I take my leave for now. I know I promised to help make a cult with you but I also have my own people to attend to.."  I was shocked to hear those words come out from such a sweet melody of a voice, it brought me sadness and a slight tint of fear in my heart but then, as if they knew how I felt they started speaking once more.

"I know this must be very surprising but I also know that you would do just great under Ratau's guidance. know that if anything happens, my staff shall cast it's protection upon you. I entrust that you are worthy enough to complete my quest of reuniting my family together, bishop or not.." with a smile of determination on my face and an adventurous mind set in my head, I nodded with firminity before looking at Ratau. he can only smile and nod to me, seemingly happy to teach me how to make a cult. though, looking at the crown. TOWW doesn't seem too happy on Y/N leaving, aaawwww he's clingyy..~! how cute~! 

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Y/N had led me and Ratau back to the chambers, walking to their realm's gate. they faced towards us and waved goodbye as we bid our farewells to them as well before they left.

I turned to Ratau as he took a deep breath and looked around a bit, seemingly as if he was trying to hear out for something. I was confused to what he was doing and was about to ask but he raised his paw up, pointer raised as if to quieten me. rude but-

"I have come to the realization that Y/N may have...unintentionally left us deep in the lands of the Old Faith and in grave danger as well... My instructions are to lead you to safety as requested by the bishop of life. let us continue through the woods as escape lies ahead. I will be close by." he told me before relaxing his posture, I was quite shocked to see that he can hear the dangers of the woods but then again, he's probably lived nearby for...great gods know how long- he probably has some experience hearing the creatures and fighting off many of them before, not a big surprised really..

We both prepared ourselves and walked to where safety should be. 

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Okay- not going to lie- it's already been five minutes of walking and it already feels like we've been walking for HOURS- geez when are we gonna reach there!? and Ratau is just rambling over knucklebones and how the card game works, I just listened ad would usually respond. I am interested sure but it's not like I'm gonna play the game much anyways..

after a bit, I start to space out and then, it all went blurred as I remember a small, faint but wonderful memory..

~~ A MEMORY COMES BY... ~~

"Mother! Mother! look what I've brought!" I yelled out to my mother as I ran up to her, a bouquet of camelias in my arms. she looked at me and smiled softly before kneeling down.  "aw, how sweet of you, my little lambert! they look so beautiful...may you put them in the vase so we may bring them to your father today?" she says as I nodded, my ears wiggling and my tail waggling I went and carefully put the camelias in the white vase we always put new flowers in for my father. 

You see, my father died when I was born, so I never really knew him much and neither did I ever knew how much grief it affected mother but what I did know was that I was always so envious of others who had fathers, such as my friends for example. I always longed for a father, or a father figure at least. then maybe I wouldn't be such a mama's boy my whole life.

when my mother had finished our laundry, we both went to father's grave and kneeled down. my mother started to set the vase down, adjusting the camelias. she then started up a conversation with my late father, as a child I never quite got why she was talking to someone who was already dead though as time past each day, I grew to understand that it was a part of grief to try and reassure yourself that they'd hear you. maybe not physically but spiritually. after we prayed to The Old Faith's Bishops, we both stood up and went on our merry way to the village.

the memory was blurry, but I remembered flowers decorating every part of the village I lived in, petals fell from the roof tops from the flower girls and bloom boys making it seem like the sky rained of beautiful rain drops of flora. the sky was a beautiful blue, maybe mixed with a bit of teal..? I don't remember much of what happened nor my surroundings from that day.

~~ ...THEN THE MEMORY GOES, AS ALWAYS ~~

after my memory fades away, I looked at my surroundings, a clearing in a forest. with abundance of flowers and fauna, a river nearby that runs smoothly and the waters were as clear as a mirror. I can see the little swimming school of fish. Ratau took a good look around and sighed of relief. "this is a good place to build your cult, I sense this place belongs to Bishop Y/N, makes sense from the huge amount of forget-me-not flowers here. I heard they loved these." he said to me.

forget-me-nots, huh? interesting!

it had been a bit of looking around peacefully and planning of where to put almost everything in the area with Ratau, I didn't really take track of the time before hearing a cry from help from somewhere. I was alerted and frantically looked around, eyes widening is surprise and readying the staff. 

Ratau readies his own staff before we both heard the cry from earlier, we ran to the source and were just in time to save an innocent soul about to be sacrificed to one of the bishops'. the staff I held was quickly fused with some sort of black substance, my head felt a bit light, confused I looked at the staff.  the wood was now as black as the night sky and there was an eye by the middle, it stared at me expectantly, it seems TOWW is expecting me to use his powers along with Y/N's.

I huffed and went into a stance, seeing that Ratau was busy with the left, I got started to beating the guys on the right.  it was a small fight but it did get a bit out of me, the black substance becomes a crown once more and the staff's wood, back to normal brown color.

I sighed as I see the innocent animal, kneeling down on the ground, I approached and offered a hand before offering them a home in my cult under the two bishops' names. they pondered for a moment before smiling and nodding, I looked up at Ratau for approval. he nodded as well.

"Now, you can teleport them to the indoctrine altar, we shall follow suit." he says.

all I did was give a smile and a small huff before dusting some of the dirt off my fleece as Ratau and I went on our way 

[crimsonlyinglilly]

Familiar Faces- A New Start part 3

Party in the woods, Elena just wants a normal night, Stefan meets Elijah and questions familiar faces while Elijah has his own issues, which seem to be multiplying.

-----

Zach’s words were still echoing through his head when he arrived at the party, he knew it was a risk given how many people and how many accidents that could happen, but he needed to know more before he could leave it to rest, he wanted to know her more.

Vampire hearing came in handy when learning if his presents was really wanted.

It didn’t take him too long to find her, he watched as Bonnie walked away before he decided to take his chance.

“Hi.” he greeted as she turned to find him.

“Hi.” she smiled back, despite the obvious fright he had given her.

Wide, innocent and real.

She wasn’t anything like Katherine.

—-

Elijah wasn’t a party person, well no, the sad thing was he preferred the stiff boring affairs that the founding families threw over drunken nights in the woods.

But he had given Elena his word, besides after arriving and splitting from Elena and Bonnie he had gone to show himself to Caroline and settle in for the night to follow Jeremy.

He might as well make use of the night, while also avoiding Bonnie who clearly wanted to ask him about the tea.

He should have known Grams was up to something, witches are stronger as a coven and Bonnie had a right to learn her family’s craft, but Elijah didn’t want to admit to her, and Elena, that he had been keeping a secret like this.

Also Elijah knows he’s not a normal witch and he doesn’t want whatever is different with him to affect Bonnie.

He was well aware it was a losing battle Sheila had age and experience on her side, she was very likely going to get what she wanted.

So instead of staying at home trying to find a reason he could tell Sheila and she would accept, he was at the back to school party in the woods nursing a beer, avoiding one of his oldest friends and following a little brother that was going to snap when he noticed.

The other reason he hated this thing, the same reason he always hated the woods, no matter how well he knew them, is that it left him with the faint memories of stalking through a thicker woods in furs and leather, a language he doesn’t- shouldn’t know climbing his throat.

Still those memories no matter how faint left him the knowledge on how to walk in the wood without making a noise, something that has annoyed the other as they grew up and currently which helped him follow Jeremy when he started walking away from the fires.

It didn’t take long until he picked up voices, well a voice. 

“not here, not like this. No. I said no. I said no! Ow, that hurts!” a woman’s distressed voice carried.

Vicki.

“Hey, leave her alone!” Jeremy was already shouting when Elijah managed to catch up and saw what was happening.

Tyler stepped back to glare at Jeremy, Elijah tried to smother the anger and disappointment at his sort of friend.

Seriously not only letting drink push him into ignoring words like ‘no’ but Matt’s sister, Tyler deserved the punch he was going to get.

Whether it was from Vicki, Matt, himself or Jeremy.

“You know, you're starting to get on my nerves, Gilbert.” Tyler snapped, 

“Just go, Tyler,” Vicki yelled, Tyler stepped away in almost confusion, did the drink make him deaf Elijah wondered or just thicker than normal. “get the hell away from me.

“Wow. Vicki Donovan says no. That's a first.” Tyler snapped nastily as he started to walk away

“You know if you did the same to Elena I'd break more than your nose,” he called out, his smile brightening as Tyler froze at his voice. Tyler was more than willing to push Jeremy around but he and Tyler knew each other’s secret even if they wished they didn’t, “How do you think Matt will take it?” Tyler twisted back around at the threat to his friendship to his best friend.

Elijah may have known Matt longer, since their moms were close but Matt and Tyler were closer, they simply had more in common.

“No one is telling Matt.” Vicki's voice pulled him from his staring match, he bowed his head to her to show he heard her. Tyler used that to leave.

“I didn't need your help.” she turned to him and Jeremy when the sound of Tyler was gone.

“It seems like you did.” Jeremy replied as Elijah kept quiet and watched the pair of them

“He was just drunk.”

“I'm drunk.”his brother replied, and seemingly forgetting Elijah, continued with “Am I throwing myself at you?”

“No, you're worse.You want to talk to me, get to know me, see into my soul and screw and screw and screw until you're done with me.” she said.

‘Wait what?’ Elijah thought, it seemed he had missed more than he had thought lately, ‘did Elena know about this’ he hadn’t thought he was that absent, maybe Elena and Caroline were a little right to worry about him if he had missed his little brother sleeping with Matt’s older sister.

Jeremy was still a kid.

He cut Jeremy off before he could say anything more.

“So it’s fine if he goes further with someone else, rape doesn’t count if the rapist was drunk?” he asked.

“It wasn-” she started to argue.

“It could have been.” he pushes, adding “hopefully next time he’ll remember this.”

“Why do you care, because Jeremy-”

“It has nothing to do with you sleeping with my fifteen year old brother, apparently,” he muttered the last word, ‘deal with that later’ he told himself, “it’s because you deserved better than that, because Tyler is better than that, because if that had happened it would have destroyed all three of you.”

He hoped the last comment of how it would affect Matt got to her, at least, if the one about her didn’t. He remembered staying at Matt’s when he was younger the way Vicki had been the one to make sure they had food and went to bed.

“What do the pair of you know of me?” she snapped as she walked away, Jeremy called after her but stopped at her snapped ‘NO’.

Elijah swallowed a half a dozen memories of hands on him, of pleas unlistened to or that never escaped past his lips, and stumbled away when Jeremy turned to look at him, he must have looked a sight if Jeremy let him go without calling him out on following him

They weren’t real, didn’t happen to him, he reminded himself 

What did he know?

Nothing. That was the right answer.

By the time he gets to the bridge the thoughts are mostly gone until the sight of his twins chases the remnant away.

—-

Stefan has one hand over his eyes and is cursing himself for his lack of control when Elena’s voice brightens, and he hears a heartbeat approach behind him.

“Oh Stefan this is my twin-” she introduces, and Stefan’s heart hurts even knowing the name that was about to be spoken but the voice that speaks is an additional dagger to his heart.

“Elijah.” the boy finished offering a hand as he stepped beside him.

Stefan froze, the accent was different, modern, the voice deeper than his ever got but still something of the long dead boy, while he had seen him from a distance, up close it was undeniable.

‘What happened to Elijah Salavtore?’ Zach had asked and Stefan had shut him down because of his own guilt, had used Damon as an unspoken threat, he should have let him speak, there must have been a photo or more of Eli with them, Zach would have seen the Gilbert children grow.

Same name, same face, but Stefan’s brother had never lived past ten, he remembered his little brother’s body growing cold in his arms, smearing his blood on his still lips, hoping, praying he’d wake up.

He remembered placing the last book he had been reading, the one they had read together just days before, in his small hands on his still chest, wrapping him in his favourite blanket, the one Damon had brought him when he was seven, and remembering burying him outside.

Lying to Damon, telling him that father had already sent him away, taking Damon’s anger and resentment for making him turn because it was better than the sheer hate if Damon knew Stefan had killed their little brother or the feeling of being alone if he had let Damon die.

The boy smiled the same slightly crooked way Eli had, a lump formed in his throat, before he shook himself and took the hand quickly.

“Stefan.” he introduced himself.

“I’ve heard,” the boy- Elijah admitted “I also heard what you did in Tanner’s class.”

“It was nothing.” he tried,

“Elijah’s had a problem with him-” Elena started explained

“Just because he’s a teacher doesn’t give him the excuse to be rude” Elijah told them, clearly a well repeated line given the way Elena’s rolled her eyes, “and his habit of airing out his students private business should have had him removed-”

Stefan couldn’t stop himself from staring, sure he had heard Eli go on similar rants, another life ago.

Elijah clearly looked like he could go on until Elena stopped him. 

“Elijah, could you go and check on Bonnie?” she asked, explaining more when he gave her a look, “She was doing her new physic thing and then she got weird and ran off.”

“Oh, alright.” Elijah gave him quickly, “nice meeting you Stef.” he called as he walked away.

“Stef? Strange Elijah’s only given nicknames to family before.” Elena muttered to herself. Stefan stared at the retreating back.

“Come and read with me, Stef.” Eli called. 

“S-stef” Eli’s last word before Stefan and sunk his teeth into his neck and tore his throat open.

“Um, are you thirsty?” he asked, leaving before she answered “I'm gonna get us a drink.”

He needed to think.

Katherine and Eli.

Elena and Elijah.

Same faces but there was something strange.

Elena was different from Katherine, Elijah felt too much the same.

—

Something about Stefan was familiar, Elijah thinks as he walks away, mind torn about that mystery and the concern he felt when Elena had told him about Bonnie’s reaction.

Stefan felt like Elijah was used to seeing his face, but he had never met him, so why did Elijah feel like he has alway known him.

And Bonnie, Grams had invited her to tea because her powers were growing, she was the right age to start learning, Elijah had really hoped the physic joke from yesterday really was a joke.

It takes Elijah a little bit to find Bonnie, admittingly he could have cheated and tapped into Nature, easier since they were surrounded by it, but it wasn’t something he liked doing, even when Grams tells him repeatedly that it was normal and natural, since Nature always felt off to him.

Like it was judging him for something, part of him was alway expected to be cut off.

“Bonnie.” he called when he finally found her alone by a drinks table.

“Elijah?” she blinked when she noticed him.

“Elena said you-” he began as he picked out another bottle from the cooler.

“I was joking when i touched the bottle and-” she started

“You need to speak to your grams and believe her when she tells you.” he interrupts her before she can explain or attempt to laugh it off.

“What are you-” she cut herself off as she gave him a suspicious glare “This has something to do with your word-mind games over tea.”

“Remember i was nine when i learnt and they made me keep it a secret.“ he offered as an excuse, before he could add more a shout cut through the party and Elijah took off when he recognised it as Elena.

“Somebody help!”

—-

She was happily getting back into a conversion with Stefan when she saw Jeremy.

“God, you gotta be kidding me!” she almost growled

“What is it?” he asked

“My brother.” she explained

“Elijah?” he sounded alarmed as he looked around, which is an understandable reaction, Elijah had grown up very good at putting up a flawless mask. It was only those that knew him before that who knew how much the dreams and unnatural knowledge he had sometimes freaked him out. 

“Younger.”

“The drunk one?” he queried as he noticed Jeremy.

“That would be the one. Excuse me.” she pulled away with an apologetic look.

“ Need some help?” 

“Trust me, you're not going to want to witness this. Jeremy! Jeremy!“ she called as she followed him into the woods. “Jeremy, where the hell are you going?” she asked when they were away from the party.

“I don't want to hear it!” he said as he tried to ignore her

“Yeah, well, too bad!” she was saying when he tripped.

—

Elena cuts into the clearing with a nightmare following Vicki, bloodied, in Jeremy’s arms.

“Vicki? Vicki, what the hell?!” Matt shouts as he reaches his sister.

“What happened to her?” Tyler demands as he follows,

For a few seconds Elijah finds the world fading as flashes of red and screams take over his vision before Elena’s voice calls him back.

“It's her neck. Something bit her. She's losing a lot of blood.”

Elijah freezes at his twin’s words, eyes going to Vic’s bloodied neck, he grits his teeth at the sharp sting pulse at his own throat.

The sting didn’t vanish even when the wound was covered.

He should have drunk more, he thought selfishly, as Matt begged his sister to wake up

“Vicki, Vicki, come on, open your eyes, look at me.”

‘Nononono- brother, I just found you.’ An accented voice pleaded above him.

His dreams weren’t going to be pleasant tonight.

—-

Stefan wished he could be wholly happy to see his brothers, like a normal person, yet the sight of his little brother, or the same face as him, threatened to drown him in guilt, while his older brother smiling at him sent a rush of fear down his spine.

Because wherever he went there was death, and Stefan couldn’t let that ruin their lives.

Elena was different from Katherine, Elijah was alive. 

Damon was the last thing Stefan needed, but there he was standing in his room fresh from attacking the girl.

At the party Elena was at, where Elijah was.

He wasn’t surprised to find Damon was here for Elena, almost relieved even though he knew it was going to be short lived.

This was just about the worst thing he wanted, now he couldn’t even question Zach about Elijah if he wanted to keep that secret and had to worry about Damon with Elena.

But Damon was going to see him, meet him if he was after Elena.

Twins, why were they twins?

Eli had been polite but almost distant with Katherine, pretty much cold considering how friendly his little brother normally was with people.

He had never even called her by her real name.

Always Katarina. 

Why would he have been born alongside someone who looked just like her.

He should use this as a chance to explain to Damon, to admit what he had done to Eli, but he couldn’t even think of how he’d confessed the worst thing he had ever done.

He wished he could take comfort in the idea of one person Damon wouldn’t harm, but he couldn’t stop a stay thought that Daman could lash out at Elijah for not being Eli.

And there was the fact Damon clearly wanted to push him into drinking blood, something he could absolutely not risk.

He wasn’t sure he’d live with himself if he killed Elijah again.

—--

Elijah ignored the looks Jeremy was giving him, as he joined him with another beer.

“You okay?” Elena asked Jeremy as she came over to them, reaching out for his shoulder “I called Jenna, she's on her way.” She told them after Jeremy pulled away, Elijah leant towards her should their shoulders were resting together, trying to give her comfort as she spoke to Jeremy.

“Those people in uniforms, last time I checked, they're the police. People are going to stop giving you breaks, Jer. They just don't care anymore.” she admitted and Elijah swallowed another mouthful of beer as he knew what the next words were going to be.

“They don't remember that our parents are dead, because they've got their own lives to deal with. The rest of the world has moved on. You should try, too.

“I've seen you in the cemetery writing in your diary,” Jeremy replied, “Elijah spends most of his time hiding in his room, barely speaking. Is that--is that supposed to be you moving on?”

“Don’t Jeremy.” he tried, only for his words to vanish before he could add more

“Mom and Dad wouldn't have wanted this.” Elena said to them both.

Elijah ignored the ache of the reminder and the almost burning in his eyes of tears that never fell, and downed the rest of his bottle.

—-

Stef was safe, Stef would never hurt him, Eli didn’t even see him move before what should have been a familiar comforting feeling of being pulled to his big brother happened.

Instead Stef’s hands were too tight on his arms and he didn’t move back when Elijah pushed with all his strength.

Something touched his neck, sharp things dug in.

It hurt.

He tried to shout but nothing came out past choked grasps.

It hurt.

He had killed Tatia, just like this, it was fair.

Dam, Stef, help me.

Elijah woke with a silent scream, one hand going to the burning wound to find nothing, the other his phone to anchor himself to the real world outside his dreams.

Dreams where his big brother- where Stefan Salvatore killed him. 

He twisted around to smother his face into his pillow and screamed.

After he managed to take a breath and calm himself he pushed himself out of bed to get a drink from the kitchen.

He had just finished the half a glass when a voice interrupted him.

“Er- sorry” he spun around at that voice, only stopping himself from dropping the glass by tightening his grip until his fingers hurt. “I was just leaving, I wanted to make sure you were all alright.” Stef- Stefan explained with a sheepish smile,

Stef, help me. Hands that were meant to be safe, holding too tight, hurting, he couldn’t escape.

His hand twitched as he fought against the urge to cover his neck.

“That’s kind of you,” he smiled, hoping it didn’t look as pained as he felt, 

“Elijah, you ok?” Elena asked from next to Stefan.

“Nightmare.” he managed before leaving them with a wave and returning to his room.

He wasn’t running, he lied to himself.

Stefan wasn’t the one from his dream, because even if it was real, his best guess on that life was that it was over a hundred years ago.

This wasn’t like how he couldn’t bring himself to call Zach, Mr Salvatore, which he might have picked up about EJ after hearing something in earliest years and forgotten or the strange runes he could write sometimes after he woke which could be all made up.

This was the memory of Stefan killing him the same way Vicki was attacked.

This was something he might not be able to ignore.

[soloistschornicles]

ᝰ ┆︎CHAPTER 01

⩩﹕𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬﹒[name] was invited by their relatives to join them in familial events, hail from the nation of eternity. there, they experience supernatural encounters, including meeting the infamous 7th wonder of Inazuma; Wanderer-san of Inazuma. 

⩩﹕𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠﹒kuni-scara-wanderer x reader

⩩﹕𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬﹒ongoing

Rumors and tales circulated through the docks of Liyue; it was only in the early hours of the morning when the port's bustle could be seen. The sun wasn't up yet as the ships were slowly making their way into the harbor. People had come out of their homes for work or to do errands as the sun rose further up in the sky, lighting the world up more like a dream than a memory of yesterday evening. 

The chill breeze caressed your slightly-shivering figure, your luggage trailing behind you as you saunter towards the port of Contracts. By dawn's early light the riders came, the sun opening up as a flower on the horizon, rising to send those petals of gold to shower the city with its radiance.

You might be wondering what you're doing at Liyue's port at this hour of the day. I shall begin with a simple courtesy, to enlighten your starting point of the story.

It was late in the night, but not midnight. The streetlamps lit the streets with warm colors, as if the lights were a fire burning brightly within you. Your footsteps echo against the cobblestone of your path to your humble abode. 

The energy you had in the morning has now been depleted as the night has gleamed. You felt yourself aching from a tiring, and the fatigue weighed so heavily on you that sleep was a distinct possibility. Endless herbs needed to be processed, and medications and prescriptions needed to be tended to the worrisome patients and customers.

Your attention was drawn to the silhouette of your house from a distance; it was barely visible from the road. But, eventually, you will be able to retreat to a central site and find sweet solace.

Upon arriving, on the doorstep of your abode, you spotted a polished-looking envelope with a familiar seal that fastened the letter. 

A recognizable insignia was marked upon it. A gold-plated seal consists of a hexagon shape with a blooming lotus in the middle.  

Taking the letter by hand, they went up to their bedroom, where their safe haven was situated. Glancing a questioning gaze upon the envelope. A faint sweetness and powdery aroma were wafting from the said envelope once they opened it. 

You knew this smell too well to be mistaken; it was the scent of a sakura bloom that was often to be seen at Narukami Island of Inazuma.

You began to unravel it slowly and saw a letter written in elegant calligraphy, and the name of the sender was not something you expected. You immediately open the envelope and read the contents.

Blooming Flower~

Sender: Kamisato, Ayato

Salutation, my dear [Name]. I am most pleased that you received my letter, and I hope that you do not mind me contacting you after such a long time, though I am quite certain that you would be gladdened to know that this year we’ll be inviting you for a break at our family house, at Kamisato estate. 

I have been informed by my informants about your recent work and your long period of working hours at your disposal. I’ve seen many reports of your success in the past two years since we spoke.

And so, I wanted you to be aware of how proud we are of you and how much we wish to share the news with you in person. Myself and Ayaka, have been looking forward to your arrival at the Kamisato estate for some time now. We’ll even have to cease our work schedules just to show you the beauty of Inazuma, which is in store for you. 

Furthermore, don’t fret. I had already contacted your executive. 

Sincerely, Ayato.

As you finished reading and reflecting about the said letter, a ripple of mixed emotions returned to the forefront of your mind. There was happiness, joy, excitement, and even sadness. All of a sudden you couldn’t help but feel a sense of deja vu as you remember the last time you read such a letter.

At the time, you were young. You always sent letters to your cousins, to see how they were doing for the past months since you sailed from Inazuma to Liyue. They were fun times back until the reign of the Kamisato clan had trampled to dust.

That incident was no more, but the pain of the loss of their parents will never fade. The grief and sorrow they faced and felt were now hidden away in the depths of their hearts. Masking with a smile on their face.  

Till that day, you and they never had a touch of contact for many moons. Until now, you felt a sense of relief flooding over you. That all of these years had passed by in peace made you sigh in relief to not have any worries in the world.

You fold the letter and seal it inside the envelope before placing it in the drawer beside your bed. Turning off the lamps that illuminate your room. 

Throughout the rest of the night, you had been pondering over the sudden invitation, it was all unexpected but welcome. You'll give in to some thought, then decide upon what to do in the morning. 

You turn on your side, closing your eyes as you try to fall asleep after a long day. The moonlight streams through your window, the glow brightening up your dark room. 

⏤🥀⏤

Back to the present at hand; you presently standing at the port, waiting for the arrival of transportation. There wasn't a single thing to keep you awake. You simply had enough sleep for the week. When the ship docked, you stood patiently waiting on the dock to be picked up. It was an hour earlier that you arrived at the port and the early morning crowd was still going strong. 

After a while, however, you became aware of someone walking towards you. The sound of a footsteps thudding against the hard ground resonated throughout the small crowd as people parted to make their way to wherever their destination was. 

After a while of walking towards you, a boy appeared in front of you with an apologetic expression. 

His appearance was unique; he had choppy-medium white hair with a singular red streak, and his outfit consisted of red-white Inazuma fashion, typically samurai attire. Maple leaves are decorated in them as a hallmark.

He appeared to be your age. "I apologize for the delay, but...are you [Name] [Lastname]?"

"Erm-yes, I'm [Name], can I assist you with something?" you politely replied. This makes the boy smile. "I'm just here to confirm your identity; Captain Beidou asked me to fetch a friend of hers named [Name], and it appears the wind did guiding me in the right direction."

You squinted your eyes toward the boy with skepticism. "How should I know you're telling the truth? I know Beidou for a while now but I have never seen you before."

Instead of being frustrated as you expected, the boy in front of you just let out a string of chuckles slipping from his lips. "If that's the case then I guess I should introduce myself!" He said smilingly at you.

"My name is Kaedahara Kazuha, and I'm recently recruited by captain Beidou herself. You don't have to believe it straight away. For your comfort, we can stay here and enjoy the tranquility of the sea while we wait for Captain Beidou. Does that sound good?" 

You were reluctant at first, but seeing the sincerity, you heave a sigh before nodding at his suggestion.

You and 'Kazuha' waited for a few minutes, relishing the carefree zephyr flittering the ends of your hair. As you waited, you took a glance at the boy who closed his eyes with a leaf between his lips; a dulcet tune swung through your ears as the winds playfully blew around you. 

It seemed like you were alone. Not knowing whether this was indeed a good or a bad thing, you thought. Perhaps, your company could be appreciated better.

As you relish yourself with the soft tune, you two heard a heavy footstep resounding through the dock. Cast a glance behind you; your eyes met with ruby-colored eyes that belong to the captain of the Crux fleet.

"My apologies for the latency, little one; I was having an...audience with the Tianquan, and I hope you didn't have to wait too long," Beidou said with a grin.

Her gaze shifted to Kazuha; she placed her hands on her hips. "Kazuha, didn't I tell you to fetch [Name] as the crew prepares for the ship?"

"Apologies, it appears I was too caught up in the moment," the samurai said. You stood there with your mouth formed in the letter 'O,' and a silver lining of guilt diluted over you. So he was telling you the truth while you pierced him with skepticism. 

Before the woman took the wrong way, you interjected. 

"I'm sorry I waste our time here, I simply didn't trust Kazuha once he inform me that the ship was preparing for my departure to Inazuma. So, don't blame him for any of this." You gave an apologetic gesture to both Beidou and the samurai. Your attention shifted to Kazuha. 

"I'm sorry Mr. Kaedahara, I didn't mean to offend you with my words."

Kazuha gazed at you with an astounding expression as he took a minute to watch you with apologetic motions. A serene smile makes its way to his face; his red-colored eyes glow with lenience. It was the most genuine and gentle expression you ever witnessed, and it warmed your heart greatly.

"No, don't worry about it; I wasn't offended in any way; rather, I was glad you were cautious; simply put, you're concerned about the possibility of being harmed," he said gently. "People nowadays are willing to trust strangers so easily; it's not a bad thing, but we should be meticulous." 

"And please call me Kazuha," he added.

You're thankful he's quite a reasonable guy. Even though you've known each other for a very short time, he has a friendly disposition that puts you at ease in a matter of seconds. 

Beidou approaches both of you and claps her hand in excitement. "I'm glad that you both set your difference aside."

She set hands on each of your shoulders and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Now, shall we prepare ourselves? We'll be embarking on a journey through a sea of depths, to the land of tempest and storm. The nation of Everlasting law. Inazuma."

⌗﹒𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ⊹ 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋

(づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡ ┊@raideneiari ・ @cynzcir ・ @louise-rosita-leroux ┊{ send ask if you wish to be tag : OPEN } 

ˢᵖⁱʳⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗᵉ: Although there's no appearance of Wanderer-san yet, please enjoy⏤Happy 2023 everyone!! Hope you celebrate with lots of Luv with your family and friends ♡

[vidyadawn]

I saw a comment on a fanart recently that read "Dan Heng's indifference to Jing Yuan hurts" and it stuck with me so I want to.. think about it more because I think Dan Heng's indifference is significant and necessary - as much as it hurts - and I mean for both of them.

I love that whole storyline of the quintet and the tragedy of it - and Jing Yuan at the center as the only one who kind of remained and who watched his friends shatter and burn in the worst of ways, only to once again, after their last sad reunion, be left behind alone. Blade is at a point of no return, Jingliu is far beyond that point, and Dan Feng is gone. Which leads me to Dan Heng.

One could argue that there are elements Dan Feng that remained or say, compared to the others, Dan Heng being who he is is a comparatively good outcome for Dan Feng. But is it really? His rebirth, botched or otherwise, is just as final as the misery that afflicted the other three. He is gone and he is not coming back. Any memories of the past that Dan Heng could regain or find will never be his and even if he wanted to (which he very much does not) he'll never be Imbibitor Lunae. He doesn't share his memories, experiences, wishes, hopes and arguably not even his temperament. I know Jing Yuan says to him that his visage and temperament remind him of Dan Feng (though I feel like they changed that dialogue later on?), so I assume they were similar in some ways, but just from the vastly different life they led alone he is a completely different person.

I think anyone would feel for Jing Yuan when hearing their story, and as someone involved in it Dan Heng might feel particularly strong about it. But not about him/them. He is in the unique position where he actively has to (wants to) fight the idea that he somehow is Dan Feng, which makes him sensitive to each incident of Jing Yuan noting the similarity and connection. His voice lines reflect that he isn't confused about the fact or uncertain of it either:

My previous life is like a faint shadow — hardly visible yet following me wherever I go. It's hard to describe the feeling, but one thing is for certain — I am nobody's shadow.

and

I have no interest in commenting on the deeds and sins of Imbibitor Lunae. Given the choice, I would like to cast his name aside... Even so, the consequences of his power will be borne by me alone.

also specifically in terms of Jing Yuan he says:

Sometimes the general treats me as a friend from the old days. Unfortunately, I am unable to return the sentiment.

Dan Heng didn't choose to be dismissive of Jing Yuan's potential (?) wish to see his old friend in him, nor is he pointing out that he's not him to be cruel. He simply is stating the truth he's always known that might be difficult for someone in JY's position to accept in their heart. He looks just like Dan Feng and apparently has similar bearing, but asking of him to treat Jing Yuan like a friend is asking him to be a friend to a stranger. Even after hearing of their friendship it's just a tale to him that he holds no personal emotions towards, positive or negative. He is unable to return the friendship because it has never existed for him.

His indifference really drives home that he's not Dan Feng reborn but someone new, someone with a life of his own and a legacy he could probably do without. In turn, I think this indifference is also necessary for Jing Yuan to lay Dan Feng to rest once and for all. If there was a hint of anything still there, I feel like he'd never be able to see Dan Heng as his own person. Personally I'd love to see some kind of (positive) relationship between these two, and if that were to ever happen, Dan Heng's absence of any kind of past feelings from DF's life should be the cornerstone of of it.

[imjustabeanie]

Hello~ I saw that your requests were open and you’re accepting matchups as well? If it’s alright with you, I’d like a romantic matchup with someone from Genshin Impact please~ preferably a male.

I’m 22 and I use she/her pronouns. I’m around 155 cm with long, dark hair and I’m near-sighted so I wear rounded-spectacles. I like to present myself as someone polite and welcoming, so I often wear clothes with pastel or warm colours, and they often have a flowy look to them.

If enneagram types help, then I’m a 9w1. I’m not sure about my Myers-Briggs type since it keeps changing;; But it’s either INFP, INFJ or ISFP. I’d describe myself as someone shy and reserved. I dislike being the centre of attention and I have troubles speaking to strangers, even online, but I still try my best to anyway. You’ll just need to be patient with me;-;. I’m also quite optimistic and I always assume that the people I meet are good. I know when to have my suspicions, but I tend to give them second chances first before having my final opinions on them. I like to think I’m a funny person too, and I’m easily humoured, so stupid jokes that aren’t even funny can make me chuckle. My jokes tend to just be witty remarks that can sometimes be dark but harmless. This means I’m usually in a good mood, and it’s rare for me to get mad. It’s exhausting and pointless to me, so I would just be sad instead. Speaking of being sad, I think it’s easy for people to know when I’m upset; I get quiet and moody. I am quite emotional, which is something I don’t like about myself. I know it’s fine to feel upset, but it’s hard for me to think properly whenever I’m riled up, so I prefer to be given some space before I talk to anybody. Another negative trait of mine is that I’m somewhat of a people-pleaser. I like to go along with whatever other people want and I tend to put their needs before mine. This doesn’t really mentally drain me or anything, but people have expressed their concerns over this habit of mine. I guess it does leave me prone to being taken advantage of, and that could get me killed someday lol. Oh, and I have very low self-esteem<3 I’m not sure where it stemmed from, maybe due to lack of validation but I don’t have memories of people invalidating my interests either. This has prevented me from indulging in a lot of things I’m interested in, and potentially opening myself up to a lot of fun things in life. I honestly feel like a child who needs to constantly be reassured, but going out of my comfort zone is scary, okay?;-;

Alright, onto hobbies- I like to draw or play video games during my leisure time, but I won’t mind somebody with little or no knowledge about my interest. I’m open to ramble about the fandoms I’m in (if they don’t mind) and I’d be more than happy to learn about their interests too. If I really have nothing better to do, daydreaming and fantasising on writing a book one day are a few other hobbies of mine lol. A few examples of video games I play are Genshin Impact (omg what a surprise), BanG! Dream, Tears of Themis and Roblox. Hmm, some other general things, I like are cats, tea, animated movies/series, cool weather, sweets, cute little trinkets and EDM.

Some traits I’d like in a partner are definitely patience and attentiveness. Due to my low self-esteem, I can get pretty insecure sometimes and I start to second guess if my friends like me or not. It’s not like I think like this all the time, but whenever I do, I hope my partner would be patient when dealing with this habit of mine. I want to be with somebody who’ll make me feel safe and secure, someone who I can be vulnerable with without fearing any sort of judgement, so open mindedness is very important as well. I think it’s important to mention that I have no experience in dating whatsoever, so uh, I’m a little shy around intimacy ;-; but I’d definitely like to hug and hold hands and kiss someday!! (I’d faint if they take this opportunity to tease me too///) As for date ideas, taking a walk around town is enough for me to have fun, what’s important is the quality time that we spend together. For deal breakers… people who are short-tempered I suppose, and those who can’t deal with their stress in a mature way. I get kinda scared around people like that…

Anddd I think that’s all? Hopefully I didn’t forget anything, and please tell me if I did;; Anyway, please take your time with this silly little matchup and have a great day!

I apologize for the delay! Your genshin match is....Lyney!

I did hesitate with Itto and even considered kazuha a little but in the end the winner is Lyney.

Lyney is a patient but fun lover. He'll always be here to comfort you and make you feel at ease, even if it's with little shows. The reason why he is patient is that he knows your worth and just wants to help you shine. He also has his secrets and probably squeletons in his closet that's why he likes that you trust him and is understanding with him.

He loves your jokes! Even when they tend to be a little dark he'll just lift up your mood with one of his own later. Lyney is always here to give you a push and encouraged you to engage in hobbies you would've never considered before. He doesn't see your constant need for reassurance as something negative and makes it his mission to build up your confidence because he knows your potential.

Lyney likes playing video games with you. He doesn't have a lot of time but always joins you when he can. He encourages you to draw and gifts you nice material that he finds. Despite his busy schedule, he always makes time for you two to have a date together, precisely a movie date. If you let him he'd take you outside to discover all the fun you can have in fontaine at night!

Lyney love language is affection, words and sometimes gift giving. He always brings you sweets or trinkets that he'd think you'd like. But most of the time he can be seen glued to you. He likes holding your hand and definitely cuddles you at home (his siblings tease him). Every day his goal is to make you feel loved so that one day you can see yourself through his eyes. This is why he compliments you a lot.

I hope you enjoy!

[1989dreamer]

Chapter 26 of Looking for a Place to Call Home

LfaPtCH Tag

                                                                                                                     ~ * ~

Derek can barely keep his eyes open as they eat, still leaning on Stiles. He keeps expecting to be shrugged off, but Stiles smells content and actually loops an arm around Derek to keep him upright when he lists a little too far and starts tipping over.

Isaac made far too many waffles even for five werewolves and three humans, and even Laura and Cora reach their limits after a fourth helping each.

Derek manages three bites of his third serving before his stomach slips and he rushes to the bathroom, barely able to hold off on expelling the food he’s just eaten before his head is over the toilet bowl.

Someone brushes their hand down his back, offering a bit of comfort as he dry heaves, saliva dripping from his mouth.

Slowly, Derek becomes aware of the person speaking. He isn’t too surprised to find that it’s Stiles rubbing his back, talking quietly as he keeps a steady, grounding pressure on Derek’s back.

“You’re okay. Everything is going to be okay.”

Derek doesn’t believe him. How can everything be okay when Derek can’t eat enough to put on weight and Laura is going back to her captors to rescue the child they forced her to have? How can Stiles lie so easily when Derek knows he has seen so many bad things as a deputy?

Stiles helps him stand when he finally stops retching. He wets a washcloth and gently wipes snot and saliva from Derek’s face.

“How are you feeling now?”

Derek shakes his head. He still feels queasy even if there’s nothing left in his stomach. He doesn’t know if the sensation will pass shortly or if he’ll have to stay in the bathroom in case his body decides to eject more.

Peter knocks on the door frame. “Is everyone okay?” he asks, eyeing Stiles with unbridled suspicion.

“Is there any ginger tea?” Stiles pats Derek’s back lightly before rubbing a soothing circle between his shoulder blades. “My mom swore by it whenever my dad or I felt a little under the weather.”

“Just ginger tea?” Peter asks, mischievous. “Not something stronger? She was knowledgeable about a lot of different plants, after all.”

“She was also the Hale emissary before she died.” Stiles sounds hard, like Peter pushed too hard and now he’s trying to hide any hurt behind a shield of anger.

“And your dad became our emissary after,” Peter says with forced lightness. “We—I am so grateful to your parents for the support and kindness they showed my family. I’m sure we can find some ginger tea if you think it will help.”

“What do you say, bud?” Stiles pats Derek’s back gently. “Think ginger tea sounds good?”

Derek nods. He has a faint memory of being sick as a very young child and being given something warm and spicy to drink, but he doesn’t know if that was ginger tea nor does he remember who gave it to him.

He lets Stiles heft him up into his arms and carry him into the kitchen. He could walk but his stomach hurts and he’s tired. Besides, Stiles has a nice scent. Derek buries his nose against Stiles’ shirt and inhales deeply. This smell must be why Peter likes him so much.

Stiles’ heartbeat quickens as Peter trails them back to the table where Erica already has a mug steeping.

“Thanks for supper,” John says, “but it’s way past time to be going to bed.” He yawns widely as if to make his point. “I’ll be back around 4:00. Be ready to go.” He leaves but Stiles stays at the table, watching as Derek takes careful sips from the mug. It definitely is the spicy drink he remembers, and with more life experience, he can definitely taste the ginger in it.

Peter hovers behind Stiles for a few minutes, something distinctly indecisive about his scent.

As soon as Derek finishes drinking the tea, Peter takes the mug and puts it in the sink. Then, he sits next to Stiles, who barely spares him a glance.

“Do I make you nervous?” Peter asks.

Stiles’ scent goes sour. “No,” he replies stiffly. “Why? Are you trying to make me nervous?”

Peter smells sad, as if Stiles said the wrong thing. But how could he? He’s telling the truth as far as his heartbeat and sweat response betray.

And then Derek remembers something about his uncle: he shows his teeth when he’s flirting. Mom used to explain to the men Peter brought home that if they were patient then they would get past the teeth. Not many had enough patience, and the ones that did were meaner than Peter.

Derek looks between his miserable uncle and his equally miserable crush and rolls his eyes at them. Neither of them notice because they’re too busy ignoring each other.

“Peter likes you,” he announces, making them both jump. Peter flushes under Stiles’ sudden stare. “And Stiles likes you too, Peter.”

Stiles blushes hotly too. “I do not,” he protests as his heartbeat blips wildly.

“You do,” Peter says, amazement in his tone. “Even though you think I’m a murderer?”

“I know you’re a murderer,” Stiles corrects, “but I’m not so sure that you’ll keep murdering people aside from the trip you’re about to take.”

Peter lowers his head and closes his eyes. Then, slowly, he lifts his head and opens his eyes. Stiles doesn’t react to Peter’s blazing blue eyes.

“I know the people in New York have hurt your family,” Stiles says softly. “And I know law enforcement has failed you before, but I don’t trust you to come back unscathed. You have to understand; that’s my dad. My only living relative. I can’t lose him.”

“I can’t promise anything,” Peter’s eyes flicker back to human blue, “but I can tell you he’ll have better odds if I go too.”

Derek leaves them at the table and goes to his room. Isaac is sitting at the desk, writing a letter. Derek ignores him and crawls under the bed. He isn’t hiding exactly, but he doesn’t want to be found.

He doesn’t want his sister to go to New York but he does want them to find her daughter.

He also doesn’t want to listen to his uncle awkwardly try to flirt with Stiles. He’d be happy to call Stiles “Uncle” but it’s a little too soon to know if he and Peter even want to date each other.

Attraction doesn’t mean love.

Kate and the hunters have taught Derek that. He remembers things, sights, sounds, smells, and he curls into a tight ball, hands pressed against his ears, trying to block everything out.

“Are you comfortable under there?” Isaac asks, breaking into Derek’s spiraling thoughts. “I mean, I’m sure you are, but don’t you want to be on top of the bed?”

Derek slides out from under the bed and climbs under the covers. Isaac stacks his papers, clicks his pen a few times, and turns off the light.

The bed dips when Isaac gets in, and a few minutes later, he’s settled and drifting off to sleep.

Derek listens to his slowing breathing for fifteen minutes before he’s positive Isaac is asleep. Then he slips out of bed and tiptoes back to the kitchen where Peter and Stiles are still sitting.

“I don’t care what advantage it would give me,” Stiles is saying, low and vehement. “I don’t want the bite.”

“Just think of all the cases you could solve if you had my senses.” Peter sounds passionate, like he truly believes he’s offering the best thing in the world to Stiles and Stiles is too dumb to realize it.

But Derek knows, as does Peter, that not everyone survives the bite. And sometimes, they don’t turn into werewolves at all.

Peter should tell Stiles about all the risks and not just the benefits.

Stiles responds with something biting but Derek doesn’t hear it because Peter suddenly grabs him and drags him into the kitchen by his collar.

“Little pups have big ears,” he says, pulling out a chair and pushing Derek to sit in it.

Stiles glares at Peter. “You shouldn’t be so rough with the people you claim to love.”

“Claim?” Peter snorts. “There is no ‘claim,’ Deputy. I love my family beyond life itself. I don’t need you to tell me how to show it.”

“Then you need to not grab or drag people around like they’re bags waiting for you to move them.” Stiles and Peter glare at each other, and Derek holds his breath, certain that Peter will lash out and Stiles, human Stiles, will get hurt.

Instead, Peter breaks eye contact first. “I’m sorry, Derek,” he says gruffly, sincerely. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Derek stays quiet. Peter absolutely meant to scare him. What he probably didn’t mean to do was hurt him. There was no reason to grab Derek like that, and he’s glad Stiles pointed it out.

Peter hugs him, smacking a kiss onto the top of his head.

“It’s past time for you to be in bed if you’re going to New York.” Stiles’ tone is icy. He’s still mad.

“Will you stay?” Peter asks. “I’m sure we can find room for you somewhere.”

Stiles shakes his head. “I’d better head out.” He narrows his eyes at Peter as if telling him to behave. “I’ll stop back tomorrow to make sure everything is going okay.” He gives Derek a one-armed hug. “Call me if you need anything.” He presses a card into Derek’s hand. “My cell phone is always on, no matter the time. If you need me, I’ll be there.”

Then he gets up, grabs his keys, and leaves. Derek doesn’t wait for Peter to apologize again. He crawls back under the covers in his bed, listening to Isaac’s quiet snores, to Boyd’s deeper ones, his sisters’ gentle whimpers, Erica’s deep breaths, and doesn’t sleep at all.

                                                                                                                    ~ * ~

When Stiles gets back to his apartment, he finds Kincaid and Ramirez sitting on his front step.

“No offense,” he tells them before they can say anything, “but I’m really not in the mood.”

It may not be  terribly late—only just past 8:00 p.m.—but Stiles is exhausted. Maybe it’s the conversation he just had with Peter Hale. Maybe it’s the overtime he’s pulled the last few days. Whatever the cause, he can feel it in his bones, and he does not want to be dragged into whatever the rookie officers have come to consult him on.

“We just wanted to let you know that the preliminary autopsy on Alan Deaton didn’t find any wounds,” Ramirez says. “Apparently, he just drove into the lake on his own.”

“Or he swerved to avoid an animal,” Kincaid adds.

“I don’t care,” Stiles says. He still believes Peter had something to do with it, but at least he was sort of telling the truth when he said he hadn’t killed Deaton.

“Just thought you should know, sir.”

“If it’s any consolation, we think the FBI agent investigating the connection between the murders and the Hale house fire is a giant douchebag.”

Stiles stifles a laugh. Ramirez is going to be a great officer if she keeps her wits about her and doesn’t let the politics of law enforcement twist her morals. And as long as Kincaid follows Ramirez, and as long as he remains uncorrupted, he’ll be just fine too.

“Anything else?” he asks, key in his lock.

Kincaid blushes while Ramirez makes direct eye contact with him, challenging him to something he doesn’t realize until she follows it with, “We’re together, Thomas and I. We won’t let it affect our work, but we also won’t let it keep us apart.”

“Congratulations,” Stiles says dryly. “But I’m not your supervisor. If you want to make it official, you’ll have to take it up with Sheriff Parrish.”

Ramirez and Kincaid exchange a look of relief.

“Thank you, sir,” Kincaid says. “We’ll let you get back to your evening now. Have a nice night.” He takes Ramirez’s hand and leads her to a powder blue Toyota Corolla that has seen better days parked in front of Mrs. Henderson’s house.

Stiles waves them off and then heads inside. He hangs up his keys, locks the door, and grabs a beer from the fridge.

He doesn’t drink often, too afraid he’ll end up like his dad did right after his mom passed. It had taken almost three years before Dad sobered up enough to pay attention to Stiles again. By that time, it was almost too late to salvage their relationship.

Stiles has been very careful and only consumes alcohol in moderation, but tonight he just really needs a drink to help him digest everything.

He picks up a bottle opener and heads out to his back steps. He flicks off the cap and takes a long swallow.

Peter killed Kate Argent. Of that there’s no doubt. Although, Stiles doesn’t think he’d be any more likely to abstain if he’d found out she was the one who burned his family alive and kidnapped his nieces and nephew.

Peter’s involvement in the deaths of Deaton and Myers is less certain.

And to complicate things even more, Peter keeps flirting with Stiles.

There must be some kind of neon sign stuck to him that attracts crazy—no, Stiles corrects himself quickly, not crazy. Supernatural.

He sighs, finishing the bottle and setting it by his feet. It’s disgusting to him, but that’s why he drinks it. He won’t ever be tempted to empty his fridge if all he has is this cheap swill.

Nudging at the bottle with the toe of his shoe, Stiles idly wonders what effect alcohol has on werewolves. Would they get drunk and recover faster? Or would it not affect them at all?

He could ask Peter, but he doesn’t think that’s the best idea. Peter might just try to bite him.

Why, though? What’s wrong with being human? And more pressingly, would Stiles survive the bite? Mom was a spark, according to Dad. And something else, like Mom or Deaton’s sister, made them unable to be a werewolf at the same time. Talia Hale hadn’t bitten Mom because it wouldn’t have helped.

What if Stiles has inherited the spark from his mom?

Could he accept the bite knowing that it could—would probably—kill him?

No, Stiles decides. Human is what he’ll have to stay. He doesn’t need enhanced senses to know when someone is lying to him. He doesn’t need extra strength to take down perpetrators.

He doesn’t need to be a werewolf.

Stiles yawns widely, jaw creaking with it. He doesn’t need supernatural abilities, but he does need a good night’s rest. Especially if his plans to see his dad and his “team” off to the airport.

It’s a little suspect that everyone trusts this half-baked scheme. Stiles knows they can’t just be going back to New York for a gun competition, but he hopes they don’t end up murdering more people or worse.

Although, if Peter tags along, it seems likely that there might be just a touch of maiming.

Stiles takes his bottle inside to rinse and put with the other recyclable glass.

He brushes his teeth and takes a quick shower to wash off the day.

He sets an alarm, sets up his coffee pot for a few minutes before the alarm, and then lies down on his bed, listening to the building settle.

His upstairs neighbor, usually awake at this time and moving around is absent, so it should be easy to fall asleep, right?

Wrong.

Stiles’ mind is buzzing too much for his eyes to stay shut despite the lethargy pulling at his limbs.

And what is making his mind race? Peter Fucking Hale.

Peter, who flirted like it was a battle that he was going to win by sheer surprise.

Peter, who killed to avenge his family and to protect them.

Peter, who Stiles wonders what he would taste like if he kissed him.

It’s been a long time since Stiles has felt attraction. Just his luck that it’s the local murder-wolf.

Stiles sighs. He’s not getting any sleep tonight. He might as well get up and do something productive, like…like?

Like write out a list of pros and cons for dating Peter Hale.

Con: Peter is a murderer.

Pro: Peter only murders people who hurt his family.

Con: Peter confessed to killing Kate and will likely be arrested and prosecuted over it.

Pro: Peter looks like a good kisser and Stiles hasn’t been kissed in literal years.

Pro: Stiles is bi and Peter is easy on the eyes.

Pro: Stiles is ready for a relationship.

Con: With Peter?

Stiles drops his pen and buries his head in his arms.

Why does he make life so difficult on himself? Why did he have to get suspended—forced vacation, his ass—and why did he have to go back to Erica and Boyd’s house? Why is he even entertaining the idea of dating Peter Hale when there’s overwhelming evidence—and a confession to boot—that Peter Hale kills people?

He doesn’t have an answer. Not even close. He crumples up his list and throws it away.

Then he lies down on his couch and turns the TV to a late night infomercial channel, mutes it, and stares at the screen until his vision blurs enough that he can finally drift off to sleep.

He dreams of teeth and claws sharp enough to tear him apart and used gently to explore more of his body than he’s showed his last three partners.

And if Stiles wakes up with a crick in his neck and an uncomfortable hard on in his pants? At least there are no werewolf noses around to detect the shame on his skin before he washes it away with a cold shower.

On his way out the door, he grabs the pros and cons list out of the trash. He scribbles a large “X” over the page, flips it over, and writes one pro: loyal. He crumples the paper again, shoves it deep in the trash can, and then drives to the Boyds’ house.

He’s not going to stop Peter or his dad from going, but he also doesn’t want anger to be the last emotion he shares with them, especially if things go badly. And what the hell, he might as well find out if Peter kisses as good as he looks like he does.

                                                                                                                    ~ * ~

[arcstral]

The Emblem of Beginnings, the companion that laid besides the Divine One for a thousand years and a friend Alfred got lucky to make. That was the person he remembered, for the blue haired man standing in front of him was the Marth he knew, instead a man who shared experiences but ultimately lead a different path.

Still, although they were different people he held a bittersweet feeling in his chest, but a warmth to know that a guiding light never faded even if they wouldn't get to be together once they both returned to their homelands. A saddening thought, but he knew those who counted on Marth would be met with true kindness.

Alfred bowed his head to the hero-king. "I'm glad to meet you Sir... Marth, i'm Prince Alfred of Firene." It felt so wrong to say that despite truly being strangers in the end. "I heard quite a lot of you and i wanted to meet you myself!" Well he heard of the Emblems time and time again, but of Marth himself? All he knew was from experience alone, though it would be weird to approach him as if they were the bestest of friends, wouldn't it?

The prince laughed loud and bright, ah... this somehow hurt more than he would expected. Still he reached for his hand for a shake, to finally experience what it would be like to touch the Emblem he called a friend. "I hope the time we spend together leads to our friendship to bloom." A wish that remained true for every encounter he held with people, that was a beauty of life.

But he wished to say something more to him as nonsensical as it was. Knowing that the Divine Dragon, that Alear his dear friend was here too, Alfred leaned slightly closer to Marth. "And thank you," Emblem Marth. "For all you have done for the Divine One, if you could as selfish as my wish is, please... keep on being the man Alear can call a friend." Even if its among the stars, please give the Divine Dragon just a little more of that warmth.

A friendly stranger bowing his head in deference with an unspeakable sadness behind his eyes, all told, is a strange sight albeit not new. This would be the first they meet, but it is not the first time he's seen that expression; with it, the affectation of some unspeakable event, cutting loose a preciously regarded friend from those who once relied on his strength in a manner akin to separation or death, or worse. Whatever memories they possessed seeming too painful for words, presumed responsible for their subtle airs of grief that surrounded them- individuals like Alear, Zelkov, and now Alfred.

He, in the end, bears only a single certainty. Even now Marth could not say that he fully understood. But Prince Alfred of Firene comes bearing kind regards regardless of the mysteries that he brought with him; if there is any first impression at all, it is only that an honorable young man worthy of attention, worthy of respect, has shown himself to a fellow ruler. "A pleasure, Prince Alfred. It is an honor to be known by members of foreign royalty, though I am regretful to be unable to express prior knowledge of you in the same way."

Indeed, for had he known such a prince of pleasant manners he would have been hard pressed to forget him. A genuine apology writes itself in the rueful quirk of his mouth, followed by a faint note of perplexity as the other man draws closer to impart a tribute of thanks. In such close proximity to another's heart put on full display, there could be no doubting the sincerity that motivated its disclosures. However. The king quickly shakes his head, raising a hand that expresses his disagreement with visible perturbation.

"Rest assured, I intended to offer your companion my friendship from the start—but allow me to make myself clear. You needn't thank me. However similar I am to your Emblem, his actions are not mine, and I am not him." However forlorn the act, a conscientious distinction could not help but be made. One thing was clear, after all. "It would not be right to accept gratitude on behalf of another."

A short silence hangs in the aftermath of these words, like a spell of condemnation.

Emblem Marth. Returned to its sound, such a mysterious title once again gains in familiarity where it was once never hearkened before, its frequency raised higher by those hailing from the specific land of Elyos and one specific relation to another. Another ally of Alear standing before him, Marth would stand before Alfred, in turn, as a compassionate ghost. . .if not for the warm clasp of their hands that holds steady, a solid bridge formed for the first. This Hero-King who with a handshake asserts himself as no immaterial specter, no shadow of the past, but a solid fragment of the present and future.

". . .However, if he and I are even remotely alike, then I know he would have done it regardless. That he wouldn't have needed for thanks to be an ally to someone who needed it. To Alear and to you." The shadow of a kindly smile returned to the lord's mouth, his blue eyes rest upon the other, motionless and shining; two stagnant pools that will never waver in the qualities that they encapsulate. How those qualities appeared to the mysterious friends of Elyos an unwitting Marth could not know.

[australiablog]

6/7

Today was a very, very early morning. I’m going on a hot air balloon ride during sunrise! So pick up time was 5:46, so my alarm was at 5am. I needed to check out of this hotel so I had already packed my suitcase and only had to pack my pajamas and toiletries. The drive to where the balloon was taking off was only 25 min, so we were not that far out of town. The balloon was already on its side and just about to rise, so we only had to wait a bit before we could climb into the basket. Since I’m solo I was first and then the big group behind me split up into 4 groups. The basket could hold 20 people, but we weren’t with that many so it was only 4 to a compartment. It was divided into 5 parts, the middle part for the pilot and then 2 parts on either side of that. It was only 5 degrees when I got up, so I am nearly wearing all the clothes I brought. I was very glad I did because Lordy it was cold. When everyone was in the basket they went around and took pictures for us. When we got up, it was honestly amazing. I’ve done it once when I was a kid with mum and dad but I honestly don’t remember that much. This was so magical. I had my phone in a death grip the entire time, I had a phone cord with me but it wasn’t allowed, I even had to take off my scarf. Very weird but I’m not making the rules, just following them. It was a bit cold in the beginning, we started when the sun was just coming up and you could see a faint glow over the horizon. It was truly beautiful. This was such a once in a lifetime experience. It wasn’t cheap but I’m really embracing the yolo this vacation, probably a bit too much. But in the end it’s only money and memories are forever. The balloon ride was about an hour and I was really sad when we went down, I could have happily stayed in the air for a few hours more. When the sun came up, it was a lot warmer, which I wasn’t expecting. We didn’t really go above 450m/1500ft which was a shame I would have loved to be that high. I took a gazillion photos, probably 20 of the same thing but my opinion is better too much as not enough. When we came down the pilot made the basket wobble on purpose and nearly tipped us over. It was hilarious! They came around asking if we wanted another photo so once again I handed over my phone for one. We had to go out one by one and then hold on to the basket so we didn’t go up again. When the balloon was on its side on the ground again we could go inside of the balloon. It was so cool, the balloon kinda feels like the nylon we use in our shop, I mean of course I touched it, how could I not. Took a couple of videos inside as well, I mean I sure as hell don’t know if I’ll ever get the chance again. When the balloon was about ⅔ deflated all of us had to help get the air out. So basically we had to go from the bottom of the balloon and start folding it in, while one of the crew tidied it after us. This was quite the workout! After we made a gigantic balloon snake we had to form a conga line and take it under our arm and carry it to the trailer and start loading it in there. I really didn’t think it was gonna fit, but when the crew started jumping on it to my big surprise, there was even space left. After all that hard work there were muffins, cheese+crackers, cookies and fruit on a table. On the first ever balloon flight they had brought champagne with them, so now it’s tradition to drink it when you come down. Got to say champagne at 8:30 in the morning was a new one, even for me. On the bus ride back to the hotel one of the women next to me was saying that a visit to the desert park would be a fun idea for me to do since today nothing is open *again*! So after I got my luggage and dropped it off at the other hotel that’s exactly what I did. It was 7 km outside of Alice Springs so not too far a drive in the taxi. The park was basically a self sustaining ecological zoo, which I had never heard about. On special times during the day there were animal talks. I was just in time to hear the emu talk, and watch the bird show afterwards.

[saspitite]

Broken Toy Mania

this is a little story i made about my silly flight rising pixel dragons and their lore! specifically centered around some of bloodmoney's background and how they became a flesh robot thing. tw for gore, body horror, some existentialism? i think? i dunno something like that. but it's pretty edgy lol

the end starts to get a bit weird as i just kinda wanted to experiment with the way i write lol, but yeah, have fun reading about sad robots!

(and yes, i did name this after the babuchan song, it's great)

BloodMoney made their way down the stairs, joints popping. God, I’m getting old, aren’t I?

Well, “old” is an understatement. The idiotic pacts they and Mabiya would make with foreign gods had corrupted Bloody’s memory to the point where they don’t even remember the date of their birth, or if they even had parents. What happened? What happened to an innocent passion project led by two best friends? What happened that fucked Bloody up so badly that they can’t even remember the past week of their life?

That’s why I’m putting an end to this.

 They stopped before a door covered in warning signs.

The concrete tunnels of Hotel Mabiya are deadly. It’s a fact everyone knows of. What nobody actually knows is that they and Mabiya were the cause of it. Being killed by the hands of something you’ve created has to be a sick twist of irony, doesn’t it?

Where should I go from here?

Pawpads touched cold, rough cement, and Bloody’s lungs soon became choked with the tunnels’ dust. Hardly anything could live down here. Hardly anything sane and sensible, that is. They cautiously took a few steps forward, eyes frantically scanning their surroundings. It seemed their natural survival instincts knew something was wrong and kicked in. Their heart pounded and their throat grew dry, slowly pushing Bloody to the realization that this was a horrible mistake. The exit’s gone. I’m lost. 

Their skin began to blister, possibly breaking out in hives, making them buckle to the ground in pain. Adrenaline wasn’t enough to satiate the agony, and as time ticked by, it only grew worse. Their blood burned through their veins, retaliating against the supposed flesh it was trapped inside. Had they gone insane? Did their body finally break down after all these years?

Then it clicked. 

Like an answer to an unholy prayer, Bloody began to hear a faint sound. Something akin to static or snowstorms, yet much more ominous… much more dreadful. Fighting the searing pain in their body, Bloody opened their eyes. Though their vision was growing worse by the second, they could faintly see a black-red figure nearing towards them, humming a faint tune.

Blood Hysteria.

Is this how I die? Devoured by a devil of bloodlust and greed? 

I’ve always hated you. I’ve always hated every word you’ve spoken to me.

If this is how I die…

Then…

…

Mechanical whirring. Chirping appliances. Panicked voices. Rushing faces. 

Is this death?

“Heart rate is steady,” a familiar voice spoke. “The brain is still getting oxygen.”

“What are we looking at?” asked another.

BloodMoney’s vision began to clear. They could finally recognize the scenery surrounding them. They were in the infirmary, with medics carefully watching over them.

“Some broken bones,” a blue-striped Coatl replied, “possible organ damage. Lots of internal bleeding.”

“‘Internal bleeding’?” Echoed a pink Sandsurge. “Isn’t that where it should be?”

All heads slowly turned to look at them.

“…Pinky,” the Coatl sighed. “You’re the reason I can’t sleep at night.”

A door swung open and a green figure stormed inside, stopping before the bed Bloody was sprawled across. 

“A-ah, hello,” a silver-pink Gaoler smiled, nervously bowing their head. “We retrieved them as soon as we could…”

The figure turned to the Coatl. “Dianya.”

“We’re doing our best,” he carefully began, “but it’s uncertain that BloodMoney will make it. We might need to…”

“Then do it,” she growled. “I don’t care what unholy ritual you must commit in order to keep them alive. Do it.”

Dianya quickly nodded. “Then it’ll be done. Santtalgi, get the other mechanics. They’re in the charging port.”

The Gaoler quickly left.

The Coatl had an odd smile on his face, as if he learned he’d be getting an extra present for his birthday. “Senzi, the anesthesia. They’re starting to wake up.”

A silver Coatl nodded and rushed for a tubed mask propped on a rack. 

“‘Morning, sunshine,” Dianya whispered, smirking down at BloodMoney. “How was your little play-date?”

Bloody couldn’t respond. A thick liquid gurgled in their throat.

“Your throat’s all shredded up,” he smiled. “But don’t worry. We’ll make you good as new.”

BloodMoney struggled against the constraints holding them down to the bed. Panicked, they stared at the green figure, silently pleading for an explanation.

“You might wanna leave for this, Mabiya,” Dianya warned her. “It’ll be quite a… messy operation to perform.”

She silently shook her head. Even with her face hidden under a mask, Bloody could feel the seething hate radiating through it. 

“Count to ten, Bloody,” Senzi whispered, gently placing the mask over their snout. She gave them a small, empathetic smile, as if to apologize for what she was doing.

The world began to spin around them, and the last thing they heard was the opening of a door.

Something about their body felt foreign. Their joints didn’t move the same. Their heart beat was a synthetic pulse. What have I become? What did they turn me into?

Am I alive?

Technicians surrounded their bed, watching with bated breath. 

BloodMoney forced their eyes open. Everything had changed. Colors, wavelengths, frequencies, definition, sharpness, things they couldn’t understand. I’m not looking with my eyes.

Every sound could be heard with painful detail.

I’m not living in my own body.

The taste of blood and plastic stained every orifice of their being. Hyper-aware of every atom they controlled. No sensation was truly felt without a synthetic haze spreading over it.

I

am

not

myself

“Hello again,” Dianya whispered, looming over them. His voice sounded like rusted knives grating through flesh. Senzi gave them a small wave. Her body is driven with suffering

The unholy garden’s snake. The one staring directly into their wire-choked soul. Mabiya. It knows what I’ve done.

“They might need to go through a reboot soon,” Dianya explained. “That’s usually the case with newly finished… organic experiments.”

BloodMoney managed to raise one of their arms. Fingers twitched with a metallic fervor, completely unrecognizable to them. What is this? Is this supposed to be my hand?

They sat up. Cords that were supposedly holding them down snapped, which sent the mechanics into a panic. That’s strange… they recognized their faces but knew nothing about the emotions expressed by them. 

“I need to see myself,” BloodMoney stated. This voice isn’t mine, either.

“You need to rest for a bit,” Senzi explained, “we’re still unsure about how stable your… body is, right now.”

It doesn’t matter. This is not my body

BloodMoney crawled off of the bed, mechanical joints whirring and screeching. They just needed to find a mirror. Everyone began yelling at them, trying to stop them, but it all just became noise. Scratching. Bleeding. Rust.

A couple doors down led them to a check-up room with a full-sized mirror. Perfect.

They were almost afraid to see what had become of them. I have to.

Sitting in front of the mirror

showed a hideous reflection

unlike any creature on Sornieth.

Wires pulsing with blood. Patches of rusting metal over rotting skin. Elongated limbs with spindly fingers. Aluminum organs underneath thin layers of peeling steel. A perversion of their true body. A repulsive amalgamation of flesh and metal.

This is not who I am. I can't live like this. I can't live. I can't die. I can’t do anything. 

So many years of my life, thrown away, to be trapped in a metal structure!

I’ve lost so much of myself, my appearance, my flesh, my mind, my sanity!

I’ve been given so much and can’t do anything with it!

It hurts. Everything hurts. But none of it is true. None of it is living pain.

I will never truly be myself again. I will never be anything more.

I can only rot now. Rot and rust.

Rot and rust

Rot and rust

Their body was suddenly grabbed.

[allwhilewaiting]

And just like that...

I'm back to reworking the fertile grounds in my own garden, trying to figure out what to do with that unexpected weather that turned over my seeds and plants and soil in new ways.

Trevor's gone. I believe it will be forever. And the time we spent together is a distancing memory.

Some part of me knew it would be this way...it always has been, so my brain cannot fully comprehend any different. I seem to attract what is fleeting. Always have. Divine must believe I learn best that way. In short, intense spurts. Never too long and drawn out, never shallow and uninvested. Always concentrated bouts.

First I felt a lot of gratitude. To myself, for persisting even in the face of inconsistency to meet my emotional needs. For not backing down due to fear of dissent. For staying true to the Tia who I have grown (and am growing every day) to love and cherish most of all. As my first, greatest, and truest priority.

Then I felt sorrow. For the loss. I felt the grief. I was invited to cry, and I wanted to, but the tears didn't fall. Not now, at least. I'm sure in due time they'll make an appearance, and I will hold space for them at that specified time. I felt sorrow for the woman in me who will always want to be loved well. I felt grief for the soft lovingness in me that sees and appreciates the beauty of healthy partnership, and for a moment...after many many months of effort to correct toxic codependent thought...believed that it was happening for me the right way. I felt sad for the cracking open of my vulnerable heart that I thought could never love again...only to love again and experience a hollow echo on the other end.

And now I am remembering the melody of my joy that has taken me so much time to curate. I hear her faint whispers calling back to me in the void where love couldn't or simply wouldn't meet me with Trevor. The faint whispers are the song of joy calling back to me. Lyrics that I remember before this short and intense whirlwind, but a song sung differently...inviting me to learn a new way.

I am making sense of it all. I am standing at my gravesite, alone this time, looking at the peaceful little me that lays quiet and still in the casket of love unrequited and desired. She's wearing a white dress, her hair is adorning an angelic face, and she's at ease.

She wanted me to see that she's not a monster shoved into the dirt, limbs sprawled and maggots deteriorating rotting flesh. Her abandonment in my healing did not make her disappear or make her a monster.

Trevor handed me the shovel and made me look at her. Really look at who she is. Buried, but not dead. I believe he was sent to reconcile us. And honestly...I don't know what to do with her.

There's me, and there's her, and there's all this dirt around us. And I don't know whether to take her hand to walk with me, or to kneel by her casket and have a talk. Maybe we'll start with a letter to self, a conversation to understand what she wants to say to me.

And then we can go from there...

<3

[thestoryden]

Savior, Part 4

Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: Incest, Sadness, References to Bullying, References to S.A.

Word Count: 1k

A/N: I have been trying to work around work to get this out. This is part four in the Savior series and it does need the context of the previous interactions to be fully understood. If you would like to be added to my HOTD taglist please follow the link below. If you would liked to tagged in the next part of this series only please comment below. Thank you for reading.

Masterlist / Taglist / Requests: Open

Savior 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / ?

You recline on a couch in Aemond’s apartments as you sigh heavily. You push back your braids and run your fingers through your loose hair trying to relieve some stress. Aemond is at the door whispering with a servant trying to not disturb you.

After everything you had been through you could not believe that your mother would not hear you out. You want to think that she is sincere in her wishes to not sustain your house’s tradition, but you know that she just wants to fulfill Aegon’s wishes before she even follows her own personal desires.

It did not always use to be like this you think. You remember a time when she treated you like children instead of pawns but it was so long ago and is now faint in your memories. Even though it had been years since Aemond had been injured she was worried that everything was a threat to her family, her power. You sit wishing for peace, for love, and just maybe to have your family back to how it was.

Aemond taps the end of your shoe lightly, “Thinking of something?”

You smile, “Nothing achievable.”

“I know everything seems out of reach right now, but I had something brought up that might cheer you up.” He says softly.

Everything did feel out of reach. It is true, but you did not know what could possibly make you feel better. Aemond holds up a pair of your fur lined slippers. He had gifted this particular set to you two winters back when it had been particularly cold in the castle and Aegon had some servants steal all your shoes so that you would have to walk on the freezing stone. Ever since they had been your favorite shoes to wear and sometimes you would even sneak them to events when it became chilly.

“You remembered?” You say tenderly.

Aemond laughs a bit, “Of course I remember, I was the one who had them made.”

He hands them to you. You sit up to slip them on. There is a pause. The queen’s decision still hangs in the air. Aemond is tense.

“So, what do we do now?” You ask.

“It might be easier to commit treason then worm our way out of mother’s scheming.” He retorts.

“Scheming?” You question, “I mean she may be proactive, but I highly doubt she is already weaving up something. We left her only a short while ago.”

He smiles and holds up a coin. It glints in the light.

“Servants will often bend easy for gold.” He says coolly, “She has already arranged for a private dinner this evening with Larys Strong.”

A frustrated cry escapes you. You seem to have the world at your finger tips and yet you may as well be a caged animal, never to escape from your stone prison. There is a light knock on the door and a serving girl peeks her head in.

“I’ve brought the hot tea you requested, your grace.” She squeaks out.

Aemond waves for her to come in. She moves in a hurried manner and sets the tray on the table in front of you two.

“Would you like me to serve it?” She asks.

“No, this is fine,” You reply.

She walks out of the room with short quick strides. You note her nervousness, but chalk it up to a bad experience she most likely had with Aegon. She is a fleeting kindred spirit.

“I have a plan.” Aemond states, “We marry in secret.”

You take the tea and poor it in to your cup. Lifting it to your lips and letting the steam waft the deep scent up your nose. You feel your senses stir as you drink.

“That is not a plan, merely a goal.” You quip, “How do you propose we should achieve it.”

“If mother won’t take us seriously, someone else must take our side.” He says, “We we’ll send a raven to Rhaenyra and Daemon about our intentions, and join their side if need be.”

Shock reaches across your face. You had never thought of betrayal as a way out. You were so focused on keeping yourself together for the sake of your family that you had not considered making an enemy out of them. You feel a spark of energy and excitement move through your body.

“Let us send two ravens, I will send one to Rhaenyra and you to Daemon, surely if we both ask they will heed our pleas.” You say.  

You know it is a long shot, even your own mother would not listen, but if there was even a chance that Rhaenyra will hear your pleas you had to take it. Previous slights made by Aemond against her children will make the situation harder, but you hope that she hates the Queen more than she does Aemond.

He looks at you then too his desk and fetches a piece of paper, pens, and ink. Without saying a word, he rips the paper into two long pieces, handing one to you. You both dip your quills in ink and begin writing out your messages. You fit as much pleasantry as you can with in the edges of the scroll, while begging for their help.

Your head hangs practically in your lap and your eyes stare into the dark reflection across the pool of tea. Aemond rests his hand on your shoulder. He draws a breath in.

“There is something I must ask.” He says solemnly.

“What is it?” You question.

“Well, I suppose I have not formally asked for your hand in marriage.” He replies.

 “I suppose you have not.” You quip.

Aemond uses his hands to gently turn you, so that you are facing him head on.

“Will you take me as your protector from this day till our last?” He asks.

“I vow that I will.” You reply.

You both want to revel in the excitement of the moment, but your circumstances cast a grave shadow over your shared happiness. Instead, you interlace your fingers with his and sit there. You lean in to each other resting your foreheads against one another. You say nothing to each other and just listen to each other’s soft breaths.

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