#keeping me from ever being a whole somebody so they could tend to wounds that didnt need to be there | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

linkspooky · 4 years ago

Text

Dabi the Villain, Touya the Victim

That no.1 title you’ve always wanted is a lot of pressure, huh? Has your heart been purified with all the praise you’ve received from the public? Does your newfound vigor as a father figure to your children, make you feel like you’re developing a ‘familial bond’ with them? You seriously thought if you could keep your eyes towards the future the past would forget itself would you? It’s time for someone to give you a life lesson - (RHA SCANS).

The past doesn’t forget. Dabi doesn’t forget. Scars may fade with time but Dabi’s won’t, they’ll only get worse and worse as he continues to burn himself using his quirk. Dabi arrives at literally the single worst time possible, to throw salt in old wounds, and stick his fingers in them for good measure. It’s clear, Dabi’s revenge is just going to make things worse for everyone, including his family, including Shoto.

However that begs the question, if not now, then when? This was always going to happen. I don’t mean ‘abusive families have to air their dirty laundry in live television’ I mean, there was always going to be some consequence to what Endeavor did to his family. Dabi is a monster, yes, but in-story he’s a monster of Endeavor’s creation. Dabi wouldn’t even exist without Endeavor’s direct actions. He’s a reflection of every bad thing Endeavor has done up until this point and everything he needs to face. The number one hero created the number one worst villain.

1. The Shadow

Dabi is more than just a murderer, he’s also a jungian archetype. The shadow is a jungian idea that states on the whole we are not as good as we think we are. In fact, we actually might be much worse.

The shadow is either an unconscious aspect of the personality that the conscious ego does not identify in itself; or the entirety of the unconscious, i.e., everything of which a person is not fully conscious. In short, the shadow is the unknown side.

To put it into simple terms how we perceive ourselves, what we are aware of the light, is the conscious mind.

Everything else, everything we’re unaware of, what we’re ignoring, how we might come off to others, the unintended consequences of our actions is the shadow we cast. This isn’t something I”m making up it’s directly referenced in story.

The approach of the villains have multiple times been compared to shadows stretching and growing deeper, this is Jungian symbolism.

The emperor of Fallen Light, the villain that Dabi himself sent after Endeavor said word for word “His shining Light beckons the dark.” This is a story idea that’s been set up for awhile, Endeavor’s light is a false light. He is a good hero, the best there is currently, but calling him a hero requires ignoring everything he has done to his family. Most of the people who call Endeavor a hero have no idea what he did to his family, and even most of his family is just trying to forget and move on with their lives.

Endeavor’s redemption so far has been a false one, it hinges on everybody else wanting to just move on with their lives, and everyone else being forgiving towards his actions. I’m not saying that Endeavor’s wish to atone isn’t genuine, I’m saying the story has been setting up an arc of false light. We are shown the light of his actions, his desire to redeem himself, his desire to be a hero that Shoto can look up to, and we ignore the shadow.

There’s a duality to Endeavor. Technically there’s a duality to everyone. There’s the light, and the dark. To put it in less abstract terms, even within good intentions there can be hidden bad intentions. A person who gives to charity might just be doing it to make themselves feel like they’re a good person. There’s even an episode of friends about this, Phoebe gets in an argument with somebody that even “charitable” deeds like giving awaay money can be a little selfish because helping others makes you feel good about yourself, so she tries the whole episode to find a truly selfless action.

There’s a duality to Endeavor, there are two Endeavors, Endeavor the hero, and Endeavor the bad dad. They are both Endeavor in the end, he is all of his good actions and bad actions. Focusing only on his bad actions, or only on his good actions would be an incorrect reading of his character.

What I’m saying is, this idea has been building up in the story for a long time. This duality in Endeavro’s character. He is a hero capable of villainous things. However, the public, Endeavor’s own family, and characters like Midoriya and All Might only really ever see the good side to Endeavor’s actions. They all look at the light, at Endeavor the hero.

For the most part Endeavor has not been confronted by consequences for his actions. Yes, Endeavor tries to listen when Natsuo expresses his hurt feelins. Yes, Endeavor realizes his family might want to live without him in the house. However, as opposed to Dabi who has been hated as a villain by all of society for the crimes he has committed, Endeavor is still getting the hero treatment. The worst Endeavor has to come against is his own children’s hurt feelings at his actions. Even then, Natsuo has somebody like Fuyumi constantly pushing him to try to reconcile with his father. He has Endeavor violating his boundaries, and hugging him. Rather than criticizing Endeavor for what he did, most of the criticism falls on Natsuo for not moving on. Like, what Endeavor did is just something that happened in the past that they all have to move on from. He still has the respect of his peers, he still has his position in society, he still has the title of Number One Hero.

This happens because everybody looks at Endeavor, and they’re all blinded by the light, they only see his good deeds and not his bad ones. This isn’t a post debating whether or not Endeavor earned or deserves his punishment, or whether require punishment, it’s just an argument that there are consequences to your actions. That’s Dabi. He’s consequences. Everyone around Endeavor has been repressing their feelings. The Todorokis are asked to repress their personal hurt over the past for the sake of moving forward.

Dabi is the shadow that Endeavor casts. There is a villain in Endeavor’s actions. As long as Endeavor ignores that, as long as he keeps seeing himself in only a heroic life, that villain is only going to manifest elsewhere. In a story, repression does not work, simply ignoring your problems does not work. If a character ignores their shadow that shadow manifests and takes on a life of it’s own.

Dabi is a response to those repressed feelings. Not only is he a repsonse to them, he’s an inevitable result of them. No child abuse doesn’t usually turn abuse victims into murderers. That’s also, not the point. The point is this is a story, Endeavor tried to just bury the past, and Dabi, rose from the grave and said “No, I don’t think the past is better off buried. I think we should talk about it.”

2. The Monster

“People like to think their actions are free from guilt but they’re not-” This is once again more Jungian symbolism. People want to believe they are on the whole good and well-intentioned people. People want to believe they are better than they are.

Dabi has been hurt. Burned even. While Endeavor only looks at the best of himself, his heroic intentions, his ambition to become number one, Dabi sees not only the worst in himself, but the worst in his father, the worst in everyone.

The reason people identify with Dabi is not because they think murderers are sexy (but let’s admit it they are) it’s because Dabi as a character is made up of hurt feelings. He has been burned. He doesn’t forgive the people who burned him. He represents a darker, rawer side to human emotion. Sometimes abuse doesn’t make people poor innocent victims, it’s just pain, sometimes nothing constructive or good comes out of it. Sometimes it’s just damage, to you, and everybody around you.

Putting aside the fact that he’s a murderer (hey I acknowledged it, look at me acknowledging it), Dabi is also written as a character to embody the worst parts of abuse. The negative emotions that Dabi feels are real. Dabi’s hurt feelings are just as real, as the good intentions and desire to forgive that family members like Fuyumi and Shoto have. Neither is more valid, more real than the other.

However, everyone looks at the light, and the shadow is ignored. Dabi’s hurt feelings haven’t even been acknowledged. Not only that, but the feelings of all people hurt tend to get swept under the rug for the sake of “everyone else.”

When Shigaraki says Heroes have turned a blind-eye to the suffering of others, he doesn’t mean that heroes don’t try their hardest to save people, or that heroes never save people. He’s saying that the characters in the story are repressing their issues instead of confronting them, and repression makes people ignorant instead of being able to truly address the problem. Now, connect that back to Dabi, who is the shadow of his father’s actions.

Toya himself is someone in the story who has been “forgotten.” We see Fuyumi praying at his shrine, as well as Endeavor, Natsuo can’t bring himself to forgive Endeavor because of his feelings over Toya. Yes, yes, yes. However. One, the number one hero had his son die and nobody even investigated into those situation. Two, nobody even talks about it nowadays. Shoto brings up his older brother’s death at the dinner table like it’s just an awkward subject he’s uncomfortable talking about... not you know, a tragedy.

And I’m not saying that Shoto is in the wrong here. I don’t mean to demonize his response. I’m suggesting he’s repressed. He’s repressing his hurt feelings about the brother he never got a chance to meet, his two other siblings, his mother, all of that to continue to work with his father because he wants to move forward with his dream, and probably because if he tried facing all of that it would hurt a lot.

However, it’s still the tendency of all the characters on the heroic side to repress things, and look at that from Dabi’s point of view. His own family members don’t even recognize him because of a few scars on his face.

It’s lonely. At the very least it’s lonely and serves to isolate Dabi in his grief further. Push him to believing that he really did die alone and was going to get forgotten, that his survival is just a hindrance that prevents everything in his family from moving forward. Dabi is made up of hurt feelings, and Dabi without prejudgice takes out those feelings on other people. However, Dabi is still a person. The same way Endeavor is both hero and villain, Dabi is both villain and victim at the same time. Dabi was a ten year old who didn’t really do anything wrong who died, after being ignored by his father his whole life. Dabi is, a zombie that’s barely alive, and constantly killing himself with his own quirk. Dabi’s pain is impossible to ignore, and yet he feels ignored.

The difference between Dabi and Endeavor is that Dabi is living as a villain, he acknowledges that he is a villain. He’s the only one in the league to show genuine remorse for killing people, crying a tear of blood and trying to dissociate his own feelings of guilt and the past from himself to the point where he remarks he’s going ‘crazy’ thinking about it. (That doesn’t make it okay, but since when is anything ever okay with the Todorokis?) You have a character who knows exactly what he did wrong, confronting a character who for the most part still sees hismelf as a hero.

Endeavor still sees himself as a hero in this situation. Dabi lives confronting the worst parts of himself (well he’s barely alive but still), he’s stich together scar tissue, and is covered in wounds. He is everything bad that has happened to him. But still, Dabi is at least AWARE.

Beyond all the other plot details, what he’s doing right now is confrontation of something that Endeavor was previously ignorant of. It’s the crux of Dabi’s speech to Endeavor. What he’s saying is pointing out the dark side of each of Endeavor’s good actions.

Endeavor becomes the number one hero, which means he finally gets all the praise, acclaim and honor he always thought he was entitled to. This doesn’t mean that Endeavor’s wish to become strong to serve as a supporting pillar for the nation was a lie, but what Dabi says also isn’t a lie either. It’s the hidden dark side of Endeavor’s actions which Endeavor does not acknowledge.

Endeavor wants to move on and act like a father to his children like twenty years after the fact, and coincidentally this also happens right after being handed everything he wanted on a silver platter. Dabi is pointing out, the negative sides of Endeavor’s actions. Aren’t you just being nice because you’ve gotten everything you’ve wanted now? Don’t you just think you deserve to have your children love you too?

Dabi is confronting Endeavor with the dark sides of actions so he can no longer remain blind, and he is literally in story an agent of the cosnequences of Endeavor’s actions. Dabi became a villain because Endeavor had a son for the sake of his own selfish desire to get stronger, cast him aside, and then even let Toya die. Even if Endeavor wants to move past that, Toya doesn’t. Because for Toya that defines his whole life. Toya was burned by either Endeavor’s flames, or the fire of his own quirk that Endeavor trained him to use. The reason Toya doesn’t move on is because for him, he can’t move on. Toya is dead. Toya died. Toya is some kind of zombie. And if not a zombie, Toya is dying. All because of what his father did to him. And he gets to see his father move on with his life. Everybody else gets to “Get over” his death with Toya, who is left behind.

Toya is a frankenstein’s monster, created by Endeavor, abandoned by Endeavor, let loose by Endeavor on the world. In the real world this would be a far more complicated question, but in a story, especially one that references frankenstein directly, Dabi is quite literally “Endeavor’s Monster” running amok. Dabi would not even exist if not for Endeavor’s actions.

Dabi doesn’t even know why he existed, or why he was brought into this world, because for him, all there’s been is pain. Pain enough to turn his hair white, and burn half of his skin off.

The same way Endeavor only sees the best of himself, Dabi only sees the worst of himself, the shadow. However, the difference between them is Dabi has grown up mostly in the dark.

Dabi is a reaction to circumstances. You can say it’s a bad reaction. You can say it’s not justified. You can call him a monster. You’re probably right, but still Dabi did not create those circumstances, Endeavor did, Dabi can only react to them. Dabi is a consequence to everything Endeavor did to his own family. It might be entirely Dabi’s choice how he reacts, and true Dabi did not have to choose to be a murderer, but Dabi also never deserved to be put into this situation in the first place.

If Dabi is responsible for his reaction, then Endeavor is equally responsible for creating him. It’s something Endavor has to confront, because this ignorance, this represion, it hurts people. Think of Endeavor’s actions a few chapters ago.

Shigaraki is another victim of an abusive father, just like Dabi. Shigaraki is also lashing out, and trying to bring down the hero society, just like Dabi. Endeavor right up until Dabi arrived, and revealed himself thought he was completely justified in wanting to kill Shigaraki for the sake of everyone. Up until five minutes ago, Endeavor only saw himself as the hero, the light, meant to vanquish the king of evil.

Endeavor was perfectly willing to kill Shigaraki up until five minutes ago, because he only saw him as a villain.

And now suddenly Dabi showed up and it got all complicated and shit. However, it was always complicated and shit. The villains were never objectively bad. The heroes were never objectively good. The world wasn’t as black and white as Endeavor saw it.

Now Endeavor’s good action (saving all of hero society as number one hero), requires something most people would consider to be objectively bad (putting down his own son).

The personal investment that Enji has in both Toya being his own son, and also his guilt over what he’s done to his family in the past, now make it impossible for Dabi to be just another villain.

Except Dabi is Shigaraki. Dabi is Shigaraki, Himiko, Twice, Shuichi (not compress tho he’s just in it for the drama of it all). The villains in this story are trying to draw the attention of the heroes to problems within society, problems that have negatively affected them, so they can be fixed. You can’t fix something if you’re blind to it. You can’t deal with something by ignoring it. Dabi’s confrontation isn’t only inevitable, it’s necessary for moving forward.

The shadow isn’t destroyed or ignored, it’s accepted, because in the end it’s a part of you. You are both everything good about you, and all of your flaws at the same time. Living as a fully rounded person means acknowledging that.

Enji’s development is about putting his selfish sense of entitlement aside and learning how his actions have impacted others. Here is Dabi, dancing around going “Hey, Dad, this is how your actions have impacted me. Look at my burns.”

Confrontation is good. The hurt feelings that have been repressed should be expressed.

If Enji had continued on being ignorant, he would have unknowingly torched his own son, and just seen him as another one of the villains. Isn’t that the worst possible result? Beyond hero and villain, isn’t a father killing his own son tragic?

Dabi’s personal revenge is wrong. His decision to lash out is wrong. His obvious desire to kill himself, and then his own father isn’t just wrong, it’s unhealthy. Trying to burn yourself alive and be a martyr to a cause because you think there’s no good reason for you to be alive, and you’re going to die anyway no matter what you do - is in fact a bad coping mechanism.

Dabi is wrong, however, ignoring what happened to him is also wrong. It’s all wrong. Trying to repress those hurt feelings is just as unhealthy a coping mechanism, as lashing out with them.

Dabi is all hurt feelings, yes, he can’t forgive and he can’t forget, but maybe some things like the past shouldn’t be forgotten. Rather than ignoring the past you can acknowledge it, learn from it, reincorporate it into who you are now, because the past is just as much of a part of the present as Dabi’s burnt skin and scars are a part of who he is now.

#todoroki touya #dabi #bnha spoilers #bnha 290 #mha spoilers #mha 290 #i love that i can use that tag now #touya todoroki #todoroki toya #toya todoroki #league of villains #mha meta #my hero academia theory #dabi is a todoroki #todoroki family drama

506 notes · View notes

cyberiade · 3 years ago

Text

Tropetember day 3: Whump

Silence is much more terrifying than any noise

Genre: Angst: hurt/comfort, whump Warnings/Tags: Loki suffers and has his magic blocked, Odin's behavior resembles the behavior of an abusive parent, and he misgenders Loki. If you think this might trigger you, I think reading something else might be better! Summary: Loki is cursed by their father and cannot hear the people who pray to them anymore. Word count: 1197 A/n: Loki's pronouns there are they/them, if you have a problem with it, fight me!

Odin's voice boomed through palace corridors, making those who heard it curl in themselves (or wish they were able to) and feel pity for the person his rage is directed at. Everybody who has ever hear of the god knew how he could make anybody's heart halt just by frowning, how he could make the bravest warriors shake in fear. In the furthest corners of his kingdom, where people were half-sure he wouldn't hear them, there were whispers about his years of conquering other realms, passed by word of mouth for generations.

Loki knew it all - after they found out what the man did, they travelled around all nine realms, searching and helping the victims of his other crimes. Yet, they stood right before him, unwavering, facing the Allfather's fury with a deadpan, not allowing themself to quiver, even mentally (no matter how much they wanted to).

"-not to mention how irresponsible, dishonorable, reckless, foolish-" they tuned his tirade out, listening to the whispered prayers, coming in a steady flow of sound, surrounding him, guarding like a blanket, offering something to hold on to even in the darkest pits of prison cells they was thrown in, when the Mad Titan had them under his control it gave them a reason to believe there was good to protect in the world they were supposed to attack.

To some, it might been selfish to do good only because somebody asked them to, and because it made them feel better, but Loki didn't care. A good deed was good, no matter what the intentions were.

They lost the track of time, lost in warm thanks, asks and tales of mischief their followers done, until they felt somebody shake their shoulders, saliva splattering over their face. Loki's senses slowly caught up to reality, seeing the man's furious face up close made cold spikes of terror run through their whole body.

"-that's it! You're going to listen to me when I speak! I'm sick of your disrespect!" he stepped away, his anger morphing to dissapointment, "I expected better of my son," Loki barely stopped themself from flinching, "and now I need to punish you. Again. Didn't you learn from your previous punishments? Where did that smarts of yours go now, huh?" The man took a few steps back and outstretched his arms. A golden glow sprouted from his hands, morphing into chains that started wrapping around Loki's head, then their whole body.

"I didn't want to do this, but you give me no choice, son."

Loki shut their eyes, grimacing in pain, unable to hold up their calm facade any longer. The white, hot pain spread around their body, consuming their own power and using it to bind their abilities. Loki clenched their teeth, not wanting to give the man the satisfaction of making them scream and beg.

After an hour (or was it five minutes) of this torture, it all stopped. Was it not for the weather outside, Loki would think the time was put to halt.

They laid on the palace floor, trembling from the effort and pain, silent tears running down their cheeks. The binds were clutching their body tightly, they were definitely going to leave bruises, and if they weren't careful, the chains would probably draw blood.

It wasn't what hurt the most, though.

It was the silence ringing in their ears, cold, merciless, and so, so lifeless. They tried to reach out for the whispers, but nothing came, not even an equivalent to what Midgardians called static.

They reached for their magic, but couldn't feel it.

No. Even their father wouldn't be as cruel-

"Your tricks won't work anymore, not until you learn your lesson." After that, the man walked away, leaving them alone.

Frankly, Loki was surprised that he didn't stay and watch them struggle, but they were glad the man left. Being in that position felt humiliating enough alone, but they were sure they wouldn't handle being watched.

When they were sure Odin was away, they broke down in ugly sobs, eyes letting out a flood of tears despite being tightly shut.

They made their way through the golden palace floor, half-crawling with the little movement space they had left before they heard somebody's steps. They closed their eyes, the shame they felt skyrocketing, only darkening the blush caused by crying.

"Loki?" their brother's voice was quiet and unsure, if they didn't know any better they would say Thor was worried or even scared.

Loki tried to keep the pitiful whimpers from escaping, but they failed miserably. Suddenly in their was their brother crouching, brows furrowed, empathy swirling in his eyes.

"Is it okay if I pick you up?" he asked, and when Loki nodded, he added "Can I carry you to your room?". The Trickster nodded again, thankful for Thor breaking the dead silence in their ears, even if it sounded a little bit like it was underwater.

Loki didn't even feel the binds digging in their flesh as Thor picked them up. The trip to their room was a blur, only changed by their brother's encouragements and promises they are near their destination. They closed their eyes, and when they opened them again, they were laying on their own bed.

"Loki, do you consent for Mother to tend your wounds after you fall asleep?" they nodded again, but then opened their mouth as to say something, but nothing came. Thor wordlessly put a cup of water to his sibling's lips, silently prompting them to drink.

"Talk... t' me." Loki's voice was still raspy after crying (why didn't they notice when the tears stopped flowing? It didn't matter now...). "No sil'nce." To them, it was humiliating how they could say anything more, but Thor somehow understood, immediately starting to tell a tale of what his costume party Midgard buddies were doing. Loki has dozed off barely twenty minutes into the story, but Thor kept talking, knowing they were sensitive to sound even asleep.

"And then Natasha- Oh, hello mother," the God of Thunder stepped away, letting Frigga work her magic. She hummed a calm song under her breath while she worked the chains open, checking her offspring's vitals. Suddenly she gasped.

"He repressed their seidr." She covered her mouth, feeling nothing but terror over her husband's doing. Thor's eyes widened in shock.

"Is there anything we can do to help them, Mother?"

"I'm unable to break it!" she almost cried out, her voice full of sorrow. Loss of magic was painful for any sorcerer, but for one as advanced as Loki it was life-changing. She never felt more helpless than now: unable to help her own child, or even offer them a source of comfort.

She finished healing them, and exited the chamber with the intention to try and coerce Odin into lifting the spell, or at least leaving Loki a part of their skill. Thor stayed with them, talking until his throat was so sore he wasn't able to make any different noise than a glorified hum. Soon after, he dozed off, his snores the only sound in the room.

Before long, they all would learn silence hurts much more than any sound.

22 notes · View notes

novelconcepts · 4 years ago

Text

fic: having so much fun all alone (i wanna let somebody know)

Control never seems so important until it’s being slowly, inexorably stripped away. Jamie finds she’s been thinking about this concept more and more as the days go by, and it’s almost fascinating. It interests her, thinking about the concept of control--not the control of another person, but control of the self. Of a person’s own body, own mind, own future.

Control had seemed a simple thing before Dani, so absent from her childhood that Jamie taught herself to seek it out the minute she had the option. It didn’t always go well. There is a fine line between wanting control over a situation and the desperate desire to feel something, anything; it had taken her too long to discover the difference. Jail time had impacted the idea something fierce, reducing the notion of control from a childish impulse toward what I want, when I want it to something smaller. Easier to fit in the palm of her hand. Control became, instead, the simplicity of keeping herself to herself.

People can’t control you if they don’t understand you, she’d reasoned. People can’t control what you do, say, want, if you never let them in. And, to a point, it had worked. Jamie’s adult life became marked by a certain kind of quiet freedom, an awareness of her own limits. She learned to keep to herself. She learned to give no part of herself away.

And then Dani had happened. Dani, whose own relationship with control was tenuous at best. Dani, whose life up until this point had been very much marked by other people’s control over her body, her dreams, her right to love.

Jamie hadn’t meant to give her control, just as Dani hadn’t meant to ask it of her. There had been no part of the exchange intended for pain, for holding one another hostage--and Jamie knows that is the only reason it happened at all. The only reason either of them--two people so used to the shackles of other people’s expectations--were willing to let the dance begin. This mutual understanding that control is only granted so lovingly because the other person will not abuse the privilege, will not turn their grasp into a cuff.

It hadn’t been simple, exactly, so much as natural. Give and take. Dani’s ghosts for Jamie’s regrets; Jamie’s scars for Dani’s still-bleeding wounds. In a way, Jamie thinks, the idea of passing control over their life together back and forth was appealing because it was the first time either of them understood how to communicate. The first time Dani had ever learned how to speak her needs in someone else’s space; the first time Jamie had ever thought someone might actually be listening in return. Not simple. Not easy. Organic, though--very much that.

It has been...an evolution, certainly. There are things Dani is carrying Jamie can’t take off her shoulders--things Dani bears with the stoic acceptance of one already a little bit gone. Jamie tries not to think about it that way, tries not to look into Dani’s eyes and think, Not quite the woman I met. She’s in there, she’s still looking back at me, but there’s something else, too.

Dani thinks that something else will, one day, supersede her. Will, one day, take the wheel in a way Dani will not be able to ward off.

Dani thinks, someday, the question of control will have nothing at all to do with their relationship, with the bond built so carefully and so firmly between them, but rather to do with the thing in the mirror. She says as much to Jamie some nights, her hand tangled in Jamie’s hair, her breathing soft and steady against Jamie’s skin. Says, in a voice so weary, Jamie can’t bear it: “I don’t know what I’ll do, then. I don’t know what will be left of me when she wakes.”

Jamie can only take her hand in these moments, the ones she knows will pass by morning--the ones Dani will pretend not to remember by the end of the week. It’s still early-days, she tells herself, bringing Dani’s fingers to her lips as she did in a bedroom across an ocean. It’s still new, and fresh, and there’s nothing saying it will happen at all.

One day at a time.

In the meantime, there are other thoughts of control. Thoughts she finds considerably more pleasurable, considerably more safe. Thoughts of what Dani truly needs some days, to remind her who is still in the driver’s seat of her life.

Jamie is more than happy to help.

***

The day has not been bad so much as long, and Jamie finds herself dragging home with a gently thrumming headache. It’s sometimes still more than she can wrap her head around: the shop, where the hours are her own to set, and the apartment, where every inch of space is open to her, and Dani, who fits into both places so perfectly, Jamie has trouble thinking back to a time without her. The world they’ve built together is warm, constantly waiting to welcome her home, and Jamie doesn’t know if she deserves it. Doesn’t know if there is such a thing as deserve. She knows only that she is lucky.

And that even the luckiest soul needs a break.

“Medicine,” Dani had advised, her expression concerned as Jamie prepared to leave the shop. “A hot shower. Uh. A cold compress.”

“Be fine,” Jamie murmured, glancing around for customers. Not a soul to be found, she pressed a kiss lightly to Dani’s lips. “Shame you can’t join me. Can think of one thing that tends to help nice and quick.”

Dani’s face lit with visible warmth, as Jamie had known it would. “I--you--”

“Easy,” Jamie said, kissing her again. “I’m only teasing, Poppins.”

“Right,” Dani said, a bit hoarsely, her arm sliding instinctively around Jamie’s waist. “Exactly. Rude to tease when I’m already worried for your health.”

“My health’ll be just fine as soon as I get home and into bed,” Jamie told her. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll just, ah, handle it myself?”

“Tease,” Dani repeated in a low, fervent whisper, even as the bell above the door chimed. Jamie tipped her a wink.

It’s always fun making Dani turn new colors, but she hadn’t been kidding--about the headache or the proposed solution. Little aggravations tend to slip away to nothing with Dani present, Dani’s hands searching her skin, Dani kissing her until she forgets any minor aches or pains. Of course, until they hire additional staff, Dani can’t really afford to join her in the middle of the afternoon just because she’s Jamie’s favorite form of migraine therapy.

Not so bad, anyway, she thinks, even as she takes Dani’s advice piece by piece in the empty apartment. Medicine, a nice tall glass of water, a shower so long it ceases to be productively hot midway through. She stands with her face against the comparatively-cool tile, trying not to think of Dani’s expression as she’d said tease under her breath, Dani’s grip on her shirt threatening to remain as Jamie slipped out from behind the counter.

Should just sleep, she thinks, changing into shorts and one of Dani’s shirts. Sleep it off, sure. Better for the whole system. She’ll just lay down for an hour or two, letting the cool of the sheets soothe the warmth of her skin as she remembers the mingled longing and worry in Dani’s face as she’d walked away. Just close her eyes, letting the steady pound in her temples lull her...lull her...

“Fuck,” she mutters, rolling onto her stomach and pressing her face into Dani’s pillow. What does it matter; anything that’ll banish this throb is worth a shot, and anyway, there’s something about the way Dani had watched her go she can’t erase. Something about the way Dani’s lips had lifted ever so slightly, the way they do when Dani wants nothing more than to remind Jamie how glad she is--how glad she’ll always be--that Jamie stayed in her life.

Just take care of it, she tells herself with the air of brushing her hands clean. The idea of Dani watching her, the idea of Dani missing her, is too strong to ignore. Just Jamie’s luck, to be the having the sort of day where a headache and a painfully strong desire to bring Dani to bed collide.

She realizes belatedly her hips are already moving without the rest of her noticing, rocking slowly against the mattress, and she sighs. Won't be enough. Won’t be nearly what it would with Dani beneath her, dragging her nails down Jamie’s back, a thigh flexing between Jamie’s legs. Still--the image isn’t nothing. Dani’s pillow smells of her shampoo, the one Jamie never uses because it should be Dani’s, should remind her of Dani whenever Dani isn’t around. She presses her face against it now, lips parted in a sigh, gripping the sheets in loose fingers.

She’d intended to be quick and dirty with it, a true resolution followed by actual sleep, but her body has other opinions on the matter. Her body, it seems, wants full control of the situation--wants her full attention on the idea of Dani thinking of her at the shop. Dani, moving among the arrangements, picking flowers, chatting with strangers, all the while thinking of Jamie here. Of Jamie having mentioned a hot shower. Of Jamie beneath the spray, one hand sliding down her breasts, the other between her legs.

Dani, thinking of her for the next hour, her breath coming in sharp little pants she’ll try to hide behind her smile. Dani, pressing her hips furtively against the counter in the empty shop, closing her eyes for a moment and wishing she could have followed Jamie home.

This’ll do it. Her grip tightens on the sheets, her legs spreading slightly. It’s all too easy to imagine Dani going slightly mad, working faster in an effort to distract herself. Easy to imagine Dani’s hands pushing back her hair the way she does when she’s most frustrated--or when she’s astride Jamie, rolling her hips to match Jamie’s pace. She breathes through the image, the perfect memory of the last time Dani had, in the middle of a movie, climbed into Jamie’s lap and kissed her like she’d been wanting to do so for hours.

Why wait? Jamie had laughed, and Dani had given a happy breathy sigh against her lips.

It’s better with the anticipation, don’t you think?

“Yes,” Jamie mumbles into the pillow now. The anticipation, that’s the trick of it. Can’t go straight for the thing, can’t just let her hand slide between shorts and skin like she wants. If Dani can’t have her at work, Jamie ought to be polite enough to hold herself out of reach here, too.

Already, she can feel the headache ebbing away, replaced by the adrenaline of pure desire. She presses herself against the mattress, enjoying the way the seam of her shorts moves against slick skin. She wonders, dimly, how long she could keep this up--how long she could hold herself in this limbo, biting down on Dani’s pillow to keep quiet, rocking at this leisurely pace. Could she do it until Dani gets home? Could this be how she greets a Dani pent-up from missing her: holding what she wants at arm’s length just until Dani comes to check in on her?

The idea nearly makes her shudder: Dani, stepping into the room just in time to catch her like this, rutting against the mattress and sighing Dani’s name. Dani, walking in just in time to watch her come apart.

Control, she thinks, forcing her speeding hips to slow again. Forcing herself to wait until she’s confident she won’t lose her patience, take a hand off the sheets, press up and in until she’s--

“Couldn’t wait for me at all?” Dani asks, and Jamie gives a leap of guilty surprise, twisting to look over her shoulder. Dani is, in fact, leaning in the doorway. Dani is, in fact, looking at her exactly as she’d been imagining: her eyes dancing, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. Jamie presses her burning face against the pillow, closing her eyes.

“I--hi.”

“Hi,” Dani says. She’s still just standing there, Jamie senses, in her jacket and boots. Just watching Jamie try to smother mild embarrassment on Dani’s side of the bed. “Oh, don’t stop on my account.”

“I wasn’t--” Oh, there’s no bloody point. “Headache’s gone.”

“Good,” Dani says mildly. “Then I won’t feel bad about what I’m about to do.”

Jamie darts another look over her shoulder, curious despite the mortification sending ripples through her arousal. “Why do I get the feeling I’m in trouble?”

“Not trouble.” Dani slips out of her coat like this is a perfectly normal conversation. Like there’s nothing out of the ordinary at all going on. She leans against the wall, removing her boots with the casual disinterest of a woman who has not just walked in on Jamie grinding against their bed.

“Dunno if I believe you,” Jamie says, a bit breathlessly. Dani smiles.

“What’s not to believe? You told me exactly what you were heading home to do...and, if you didn’t happen to do it fast enough, well...”

Fuck, thinks Jamie, her heart rate--which has not precisely calmed since Dani’s arrival--ratcheting back to full speed. She rolls onto her back, sits up, aware of the throbbing heat between her legs even as she pulls the sheets higher.

“Dani...”

“Mm?” Dani is still moving with the grace of someone in absolutely no hurry to explain herself. As Jamie watches, she removes her earrings, sets them in a bowl on her dresser. Removes her watch, lays it beside the bowl. Reaches up to unbind the tie she must have used in Jamie’s absence, irritated with her hair falling into her eyes as she worked.

“Dani, are you--”

“I’m wondering,” Dani says, “why you didn’t work harder at it.”

Jamie’s mouth is suddenly very dry. “Work...harder?”

“If you wanted to take care of it yourself,” Dani says. She’s walking closer now, almost strolling; Jamie draws in a breath, her hands bunching around the sheet. There’s something about Dani this calm, Dani moving with this kind of easy indolence, that makes her stomach do funny things. This version of Dani is one no one else ever sees. This version of Dani comes out with purpose.

Usually a very particular purpose.

She’s climbing onto the bed now, sliding under the sheet to recline against Jamie’s side of the headboard. Her expression is cool, but there’s a light in her eyes Jamie couldn’t miss even with that headache still thrashing away, a certain bright hunger specific to this room, this sort of situation, Jamie.

“So, I’m thinking, if you didn’t want to take care of it enough to do it fast,” Dani says, patiently parsing it out as she adjusts Jamie’s pillows behind her back, smooths her hands across the sheet over her lap, “there was a reason, right? You always have reasons, Jamie.”

She’s right, Jamie thinks with helpless attraction. Even now, playing whatever thrilling little game Dani has cooked up since arriving home, Dani understands her. Understands, maybe, more than Jamie even realized in this particular situation.

“I’m thinking about it,” Dani says, folding the sheet down once--again--pulling it down the bed until it’s barely covering either of them at all. “And the most I can come up with is...you wanted me here for it. Is that about right?”

Jamie grins, though her skin prickles in the chill of the air-conditioned room. “Always, Poppins.”

Dani nods, making a show of it, like there isn’t a fire burning low in her belly just now. Like she didn’t catch Jamie in the act and want to join her. Like her eyes aren’t blazing with that exact desire just now, pupils blown wide, dragging down Jamie’s body to drink her in.

“You wanted me to watch.”

“Uh huh,” Jamie says, because whether it was true at the start doesn’t matter; it’s true now. “Or, y’know--since you’re here. Can always join in.”

Dani seems to consider it. One hand trails up Jamie’s thigh, toying lightly with the hem of her shorts. Jamie moves to twist at the waist, to shift into Dani’s lap and kiss her lips--and Dani’s hand rises, catching her by the front of her t-shirt.

“You wanted me to watch,” she says, leaning in until the words are tracing Jamie’s lips. She does not, Jamie notes with a low groan of frustration, actually make contact. “So. Show me.”

Jamie swallows. “I--uh--just--”

“Here,” Dani adds, spreading her legs. She pats the mattress, a signal for Jamie to settle between them and lean back against her chest. Jamie draws a ragged breath.

“Really think this could go faster if you just let me help you out of those clothes.”

“Think you’re right,” Dani agrees, and gives the mattress another firm pat. Jamie moves, dreamlike, where she’s been directed. Sits back, her hands uncertain of where to land.

“Dani, honestly, I want--”

“You had a whole hour,” Dani says, “to get what you wanted. Now it’s my turn.”

Fuck, Jamie thinks again, a fresh surge of need clenching in her stomach. She turns her head, leans until she can see Dani’s expression clearly.

“Maybe I didn’t start right away. Maybe I’d only been at it a minute.”

“You weren’t.” Dani smiles, the sort of smile she tends to wear immediately before kneeling between Jamie’s legs and offering a thorough distraction from their nightly routine. “I was there a while before you noticed.”

“And you didn’t speak up?” Years together, Jamie thinks. Years together, with no shortage of good sex between them, but this side of Dani is special. This side of Dani, the one perfectly in control of a situation, is to be cherished. “Just stood there, huh? Watched the show?”

“Thought you’d finish fast,” Dani says. She’s got Jamie’s right hand in her own, turning it over to inspect Jamie’s fingers, to trace a nail down Jamie’s palm. “Thought I’d come in just in time for the grand finale. But then I saw your hands.”

“What about them?” There’s challenge in her voice, pushing up against Dani’s calm. It’s always best this way, giving Dani a bit of resistance before she surrenders. Dani scratches a little harder, drawing a thin red line to match the ones grooved into Jamie’s palm.

“You weren’t using them. You weren’t using anything. I thought that was interesting. Why not touch yourself, if you really wanted to take care of things properly?”

Jamie is struggling to keep her breath, struggling to keep from leaning that last little bit to press her mouth to Dani’s neck. That, she senses, is not the right move. That, she senses, will get her in trouble--and she’d really rather see where this is going.

“I realized,” Dani is saying, turning Jamie’s hand over and mapping her knuckles with slow, tracing circles. “You were actually trying to make it last. Trying to go as slowly as you possibly could. Driving yourself crazy, I bet.”

“Yes,” Jamie says, unable to stop herself. She pushes back, aware of Dani’s body, of how warm she is.

“I’m curious,” Dani says, applying light pressure to Jamie’s hand, steering it toward Jamie’s body. “How long do you think you can last?”

“Dani--”

“Only...if you want me to watch...” Dani smiles again, the smile that says she’d like nothing better than to drive Jamie out of her mind. “I really think I want a show.”

She’s dragging Jamie’s hand slowly down her own breasts, tracing down her taut stomach, pausing at the waistband of her shorts. Jamie holds her breath, waiting for Dani to slide with her beneath the band, waiting for Dani to use her hand as she sees fit--but Dani presses her farther down, curling around Jamie’s fingers as they cup together between Jamie’s legs over the loose material. And then she’s gone, leaving Jamie in place, her hand moving to rest on Jamie’s hip.

“Go on,” she says against Jamie’s ear, her free hand shifting Jamie’s hair aside so her lips can graze skin. “Show me.”

Jamie groans, letting the palm of her hand press hard against the heat pulsing through her shorts. She moves her hips, aware of the need she’s been cultivating for far too long already--

“Slowly,” Dani says into her ear. “You go until I say you’ve had enough.”

Jamie slumps back against her, boneless, a small noise escaping her lips. “I--fuck--rules?”

Dani gives the ridge of her ear a gentle nip, the barest scrape of her teeth. Jamie shivers. “That’s it. Go slow. Make all the noise you need, but remember: you are done when I say you’re done.”

Control, thinks Jamie, understanding, and knowing this is something Dani needs as much as she does. She licks her lips, drags her hand slowly against the front of her shorts. It would be so easy to rebel, so easy to wrench back from Dani what has been given to her--she could make herself come in no time at all, after all this.

She turns her head, finds Dani watching her face with avid interest. She closes her eyes.

“Slow,” she repeats, a promise. Her fingers slide across the soft material, tracing as though she has all the time in the world. Dani’s chin rests on her shoulder, her lips grazing through Jamie’s shirt once before she settles in.

“Oh, and Jamie? Make it good.”

Jamie strangles another groan, too aware that letting herself go this early will have dire consequences. She cups lightly, the heel of her hand pushing against painfully throbbing nerves. Her fingers continue their soft work, index trailing down, circling where it would much rather be pressing in.

“Good,” Dani says softly. She slides an arm around Jamie, spreading her hand low on her stomach, her eyes devouring Jamie’s tentative progress. Jamie leans her head back, breathing shallowly, trying to think desperately of flowers, of buds in bloom, of open petals and--

Nope, she thinks hastily, as her hips give a particularly sharp jerk. She pauses, closing her eyes, searching for solid ground before she can tumble.

“Very good,” Dani adds, sounding impressed. “See, you’re doing great already.”

“Want you,” Jamie mutters. Dani gives her ear another nip.

“Show me, then.”

It’s a balancing act, Jamie finds, letting her hips set a slow rhythm against the flex of her hand. A nice, easy balancing act, with her head braced back against Dani’s shoulder, every inhalation filling her senses with the scent of Dani, the push-pull of Dani drawing breath against her back, the trace of Dani’s fingernails across her stomach. A nice, easy, not-at-all-breaking-her balancing act.

“I think you’re ready to step it up,” Dani says. Jamie, who has been trying to ride the friction of her own palm as minimally as she can stand, gives her a searching look. “I think it’s too easy on you. I think you need more.”

“More,” Jamie repeats. Dani’s hand is slinking lower again, grasping the band of Jamie’s shorts and lifting. Her free hand covers Jamie’s, pressing with sudden strength once between Jamie’s legs. “Fuck, Dani.”

“Not quite yet,” Dani says pleasantly, that too-nice voice she uses when she’s actively working to drive Jamie up the wall. It’s more effective than it has any right to be, Jamie thinks, though she's smiling, her body already desperate.

She watches, her muscles loose to allow Dani full control, as Dani slides their joined hands higher, tucks Jamie’s hand into her shorts. Her fingers remain tight around the waistband, pulling it aloft and down until she gives herself a proper view of exactly where Jamie’s fingers rest.

“There,” Dani says with dangerous pleasure. “Keep going.”

Jamie wants to twist, wants to capture her lips in a hard, brazen kiss. Instead, she lets her fingers resume their work--pressing in slow, careful circles against herself. She can hear the slick slide, the soft wet sound of skin on skin, and her stomach clenches with the near-painful urge to finish. She pauses.

“Don’t think I told you to stop,” Dani says. Jamie bites down hard on her own lip. Her wrist turns, her fingers rubbing lightly--then harder, her desire sparking hard against Dani’s command. She works the throbbing little bundle of nerves between two fingers, her breath sharp, her free hand searching out Dani’s thigh to dig her nails into denim.

“Fuck--Dani--I can’t--”

“Can,” Dani corrects. “So good, Jamie. You’re doing so well. Show me how much you can take.”

The words are low, calm, but Dani’s body is beginning to betray her, too; Jamie can feel the way her fingers are driving into Jamie’s hip, can see the tremble in the hand pulling at the shorts. Most of all, she can feel Dani beginning to rock slowly against her, her hips pushing up into Jamie in search of friction of her own.

“Could be touching you,” Jamie hisses, urged into a better station of control simply by the knowledge Dani wants her to give in. “Could be three fingers deep by now, giving you--”

“You’re giving me exactly what I need,” Dani breathes. Jamie hears her own words coil into a soft moan, her hips beginning to buck. Dani’s fingers squeeze around her hipbone, dragging sharp red marks under the pulled-aside waistband. “Ride it out. Do what I tell you.”

Jamie grits her teeth, every muscle in her body tightening against the urge to lose control. Her hand is quickening, her fingers stroking and slipping and pressing until she’s certain she’s going to break. The friction is too much, every circle drawn tight around herself snapping a little more self-restraint.

“Longer,” Dani whispers into her ear. She wraps her lips around Jamie’s earlobe, sucking hard enough for Jamie’s eyes to roll back. “Don’t give up on me yet.”

“Please,” Jamie hears herself whine, even as she obediently increases the pressure. “Please, I can’t--”

“Faster,” Dani says. “Come on, be good, be good for me, you’re so--”

She makes a noise, low and desperate, a spark of electricity straight to Jamie’s core. She’s grinding herself against Jamie, her hand gripping hard to Jamie’s hip for purchase. Jamie rubs faster, feeling as though she will lose this game, she will certainly not make it much further, and finding she doesn’t actually care as long as Dani is holding her this way.

She loses herself in Dani’s voice, Dani saying with the rapid-fire recklessness of staggering toward the edge herself, “Inside. Inside, I want to see--” Dani, pulling the shorts sharply down now, allowing Jamie to spread for herself, watching as Jamie slides two fingers deep, pressing hard with the heel of her hand.

“So good,” Dani mutters, “so good. Keep going. Make it last. It’s my mouth, imagine it’s my mouth, my tongue you’re riding, god, Jamie--”

Control, thinks Jamie, aware she’s losing it fast, aware there is little left that her body can possibly take even as Dani bites down hard on her shoulder. Imagine, Dani had said, like she isn’t right there, like she couldn’t be shifting Jamie out of her lap, sliding down her body, replacing Jamie’s hand with long, slow strokes of her tongue.

But that isn’t what Dani wants. This is what Dani wants, to hold Jamie, to watch her finish the work she started wishing Dani could see. Dani knows all too well what this is doing to her; she can feel it in the cant of Dani’s hips, hear it in the sound she’s muffling against Jamie’s shirt.

“Tell me,” she begs, as her muscles clench around her thrusting fingers. “Tell me, I won’t--I won’t until you--”

“How much,” Dani asks, her voice shaking with effort. “How much do you want it?”

Jamie curses, straining away from the edge. “You know,” she pants. “You know I--”

“How much,” Dani says directly into her ear, her hands digging into Jamie’s hips, “did you want it to be me all along?”

“Always,” Jamie breathes, the word a high, helpless plea. “Always, fuck, from the very start. Please, please, I--it’s you--it’s you--”

“Yes,” Dani agrees. “Show me how it feels.”

Jamie adds a third finger on yes, allowing her body at last to clench and shudder. It’s Dani, she thinks, turning her head and muffling her ecstatic cry against Dani’s neck. She can feel Dani’s grip tightening, pulling at her as Dani spreads further, rocks with sharp, needy thrusts while Jamie’s body chases the height of her orgasm.

It’s Dani, she thinks again, Dani pushing in deep, Dani riding it out, Dani in control, this is all for--all for--

And then there is no thought at all, nothing but Dani crying out as she squeezes a hand over Jamie’s and feels for herself what she’s done. Nothing left but Dani’s name on her lips as Jamie arches, eyes closed, feeling very much as though she is no longer in possession of a body at all.

She slumps against Dani, breath coming in short waves, her head clear of anything except the residual electricity from Dani’s fingers threading through her own. She exhales, rolling her eyes to watch Dani’s face.

“Good show?”

Dani makes a muffled sound a bit like a whimper, her hips still twitching as though out of her control. Jamie shifts with some effort, breaking contact, leaving her rocking against nothing at all.

“You’re still hanging on? Well. That won't do.”

She tugs at Dani’s shirt, catching her in a hard kiss that seems only to draw Dani’s urgency higher. Dani’s hands are scrambling to pull Jamie back into her lap, and Jamie allows herself to be positioned. She lowers herself with a groan, loving the dark marks she’s leaving behind on Dani’s jeans as she presses flat against her tense thigh.

“Ride it with me,” she insists, pushing her own knee hard between Dani’s legs. Dani’s head thumps back against the headboard, her hand anchored at Jamie’s back, watching with glazed eyes as Jamie provides friction to both of them with each rough grind.

It’s a graceless thing, and yet, perfectly matched--Dani gripping at her shirt, Dani pushing up into her as she rocks down, and, this time, Jamie finds the force shattering. She’s wrapped around Dani, hands clawing into Dani’s hair, down her back, hips pumping, even as she feels Dani begin the age-old sign of falling apart: Dani, repeating her name as an endless mantra, over and over.

Control, she thinks, as she’s losing the last of it all over again, as Dani is joining her with a long, shuddering kiss. What little good it does, when it is held too tightly. What little grace it offers, when not shared.

“I should, ah, call next time?” she breathes as Dani wraps both arms around her, squirming down the bed until they're lying in a sweaty heap. “Maybe just...set up in the back and wait for you to join me?”

Dani laughs. “If you did that, we’d never leave.”

“Perfectly content with never leaving here, either, if that’s how we’re going to play it.” Jamie leans back, reaching down to brush her fingers across the ruined leg of Dani’s jeans. “Made a mess of you.”

“It was mutual,” Dani teases. She closes her eyes, draws in a long breath that turns to a yawn. “How is your head, for real?”

“Good as new. All beasts banished back to whence they came.” Jamie winces, peering at Dani’s face for sign of shutdown, but Dani’s expression is placid.

“Good. I still think you should start with medicine.”

“Took medicine!” Jamie protests. “Did all the goddamn tricks. Not my fault this works best.”

“I think you just say that,” Dani says, “to get me naked.”

“Well, not doing a good goddamn job of it, am I?” Jamie sits up, gesturing broadly. “Still wearing every last fucking stitch.”

“Mm,” Dani agrees. “Maybe you should...do something about that?”

Jamie is still laughing when Dani pushes her onto her stomach, stretching out almost flush against her back. Her breath catches, something about the press of denim against her bare legs, the way Dani’s sliding the t-shirt Jamie stole from her side of the closet up her back making her feel deliciously undone. The idea of Dani, fully-dressed, pressing her half-naked body into the mattress draws a long shudder through her.

“Unless you’re tired,” Dani adds, her hand curling around Jamie’s hips, sliding teasingly toward soaked, swollen skin. Jamie groans into the pillow, gripping the sheets in one hand, reaching back for a grasp on Dani’s jeans with the other. Dani’s hand, pushed between damp sheets and sticky skin, strokes her once, testing. She kisses the back of Jamie’s neck, rolling her tongue over the chain of Jamie’s necklace, drawing it between her teeth.

“This is,” Jamie pants, even as Dani is playing her exactly as she’d watched Jamie work herself over, “exceptionally unbalanced.”

“Then do something about it,” Dani teases, kissing along her shoulder. Jamie, somehow, finds herself quite without the will to fight back. There is nowhere she’d rather be than angling herself toward Dani’s hand, seeking the firm, rough stroke of Dani’s fingers.

Tonight, she reasons, is Dani’s turn. She’ll turn the tables some other time, when Dani isn’t itching for this exact thing, this exquisite dynamic: when the ability Jamie gives her to tell Jamie exactly what to do, exactly what she needs of her, isn’t the most important gift she could grant.

Later, she’ll pin Dani to the wall or the counter, tease her until Dani is wild for her. It’s only fair, and Jamie knows it won’t take long at all for the power to change hands again when it’s done.

“Stay with me,” Dani commands, rocking against Jamie with one authoritative motion even as her fingers sink deep and Jamie gasps.

“Always,” she promises, feeling luckier than she could possibly explain.

#the haunting of bly manor #the haunting of bly manor spoilers #fanfiction #dani x jamie #jamie x dani #this one is decidedly R rated #and started as a genuine exploration of a concept before just...casually developing into a distinctly plotless atmosphere #I make no apologies #control one-shots #(I'm making a hefty assumption about myself with that last tag we'll see if it sticks)

139 notes · View notes

mooshs-crack-headcanons · 4 years ago

Note

Hello! May I please ask for Lupin and Jigen with the letters E, M, and Z? (Thank you so much in advance!)

Hello! Just a heads up I haven't watched lupin in a very hot minute (hopefully I can fix that) and basically did this by memory so forgive me if anything is a bit ooc!

Lupin

E : EMBRACE. Does your s/o like hugs? what are their hugs like?

Of course Lupin likes hugs, he loves hugs! Every time he greets you expect to be tackled down by the master thief's embrace along with his long string of adoring phrases to go along with it. Hugs from him never fail to make you feel every ounce of love from every fiber of his being, you know because he's sweet like that.

M : MILESTONE. what was the exact moment your s/o realised they had feelings for you?

He remembers it vividly, it was after a heist that he of course went in over his head that he actually managed to get nicked a few times in the shoulder by stray shots from the cops. But this is Lupin of course, he's going to whine and bitch about how he "saw his life flashing before his eyes" to get some sympathy points out of you - which usually works on most people, however, this time it definitely doesn't work on you. He immediately cuts the bullshit once you start screaming and crying at how tired you are about all his crazy bullshit schemes and how much you worry with every job that one day…your worst fear will happen.

It more than takes him off guard; it scares the shit out of him. He just wants to have fun and steal shit not...worrying you to the point of tears. He moves to adjust himself on the couch so that he can caress your cheek so that you look up at him, ready to rest your worries - but the moment he looks into your glossy tearfilled eyes he just...freezes. He isn't sure what it was at that moment, maybe it was just the fact you were showing actual genuine concern for him, but with his mouth agape and his dark eyes darting all over your features to him, none of the most expensive jewels could even compare to your beauty. With a sigh, he collects himself and quietly apologizes for acting so recklessly and that he promises that he'll keep your worry in mind, he cares about you and hates to see you cry after all.

Z : ZZZ. how is sharing a bed with your s/o?

Good luck actually keeping your IN the bed at night. Lupin tends to move around in his sleep quite often and quite frequently so it's quite easy to find yourself woken up at 2 am because your boyfriend kicked you mid slumber onto the floor.

Jigen

E : EMBRACE. Does your s/o like hugs? what are their hugs like?

Jigen really isn't a touchy touchy sort of guy so hugs from him are very rare (when he isn't drunk; then he's just the affectionate drunk) But when you do find yourself in one of the rare sober embraces expect the feel of every single possible trouble you could have in your thought just completely vanish. These are very tender moments, as he wraps his arms around your waist and buries his face either into your neck or the top of your head. His presence just...seems to calm you, which isn't just the case for you because Jigen finds himself feeling the same way. There's no annoyance for whatever Lupin has recently done; it's just the feeling of the two of you together which Jigen definitely enjoys the feeling of.

M : MILESTONE. what was the exact moment your s/o realised they had feelings for you?

It was at some bar one night, the place only had a few other customers who kept to themselves so the place was actually quite quiet. He sat at the bar with you watching the ice swirl around in his glass as his attention went in and out of listening to you talk next to him.

"Jigen?"

He comes out of his trance when you gently shake his shoulder a bit and spills his drink out of his hand - the glass hitting the floor. A curse gritted through his teeth before saying his apologies to the person at the bar before he about went to bent over to clean it up until you already beat him to it which then as he mutters a thank before going to take out his wallet - you also beat him to it by slamming crash from your pocket onto the counter before going to continue your cleaning.

After disposing of the glass you return to ask your previous question; was something on his mind? Jigen sighs as he looks back to his replacement drink.

"Nope, just fine."

You watch how he downs the alcohol - you knew damn well that was a lie. You sip your own drink, taking a minute to down the burning sensation. You sigh, looking back over to him.

"Jigen, we both know the truth. But I respect your choice - you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I'm just really glad I've gotten to know you over this time and - just like the rest of the crew, I'm here to listen if you ever need to vent or anything. I know how things...really can suck in our line of work."

He takes a moment to meet your gentle gaze, your smallest of smiles and he can't help but to softly laugh to himself and how cliche your whole response was...although with a double take it does seem genuine so much in fact for the briefest of moments he actually considers opening up about his trust issues and everything surrounding that shitty situation. However he doesn't given that voice in the back of his head - you're different from most people he's met and he definitely cares about you and the rest of the crew and seeing your concern...does something to him and he feels if he acts on it it might ruin things.

But give him a little bit more time to let him settle the inner debate with himself and then he'll open up to show you the wounds on his heart, wounds you can possibly help heal the tiniest of bits.

Z : ZZZ. how is sharing a bed with your s/o?

Jigen is a decent person to share a bed with, he doesn't tend to move around a lot in his sleep very much - tending to mostly likely wake up in the exact position he fell asleep in so there's no worries getting crushed or physically kicked out of bed in your sleep like there would be with somebody like Lupin. So with that Jigen makes an amazing pillow! You can easily nuzzle your face in his chest as he holds a gentle supportive grip around your waist and fall asleep in no time at all in cuddle hold.

If you like what you read please consider reblogging! It means the world for writers and artists!

#lupin iii x reader #arsene lupin iii #arsene lupin x reader #jigen daisuke #jigen daisuke x reader #mine #moosh's 2021 valentine's day special

131 notes · View notes

lollytea · 4 years ago

Text

Fearless (part 2/3)

( PART ONE okokok some parts of this are pretty good. some not so good. but the important part is im tryin my goddamn best out here.)

[OCTOBER 22ND, 7:02PM] The sun had melted away beneath the distant hills and Louie had somewhat calmed himself down.

At least, he was no longer hyperventilating. The feathery tufts on his cheeks were not as fluffy as before, now clumped together from his waterworks earlier.

He lit the last of his lights, drawing the match away and allowed the head of the flame to seize its last moments. It danced with delight, flickering as it devoured the thin strand of poplar wood.

Louie watched it too long, finding solace in the glow of gentle orange. Just as it was teasing to taste his fingertips, he snuffed it out, not nearly as interested in the arising string of pale smoke. Seven illuminated oil lamps circled his room, washing him in warm, yellow light. But still, It would breed an array of shadows, outlining everything with subtle pools of gloom. Shadows made Louie uneasy. They gave him the strangest feeling that he was being watched. Reminded him of people and powers that were best not to think about. But a shadowy room was preferable to pitch black. He was scared of the dark. Come to think of it, he was scared of a lot of things. Louie had a complicated relationship with fear. He was, by no means, the skittish kid from five years ago. He simply couldn't live with that mindset for long when thrust into the life of McDuck royalty and all the madness and danger attached. So, he adapted. His busiest days tended to fall in the order of breakfast, adventure, magic, certain doom, barely escaping with your life and then sleep. Rinse and repeat. Living like that didn't phase him much anymore. How could it when he was surrounded by the most courageous family put on this earth? And when you continue to survive when that was your Day-to-Day, it had a tendency to boost your confidence. He had gotten braver for sure. Much braver. And yet, he couldn't help but feel like he was lying to himself sometimes. Being afraid of the world around him had never quite faded, he just gotten much better at handling it. Recent years made things all the more messy. His brothers weren't as brave as they used to be these days. Not after what they went through. As a spot of hope, Huey was starting to rebuild a stronger, improved version of his old self. But Dewey still needed time. It made Louie wonder if his intrepid brothers could be broken like this, should he even bother trying to toughen up? He had never been like them. Not naturally, at least. He didn't stand a chance when his time came. He figured that with all he's experienced, he should've at least developed past his more irrational fears. But he didn't. Deep down, silly stuff still unsettled him. Spiders, violence, surprises. The dark. Ty knew he was afraid of the dark. Ty knew most of the stuff he was afraid of. And despite teasing Louie for pretty much everything else, never his fears. He claimed his brother was the same so he didn't find it all that weird. Louie called bullshit on that one. From what little he knew about Ben, it was impossible to picture that guy being scared of the dark. Ty was most likely trying to ease his insecurity. It didn't work. He felt uncomfortable sometimes, being somebody scared of so much, being close with somebody like Ty. Fearless. It sorta made him wonder if he was inferior. As if standing alongside Ty just wasn't right. The balance didn't seem equal. Wow. Louie was never gonna be good enough, was he? Wait, no, stop it. Fucking stop it. He had no right to be feeling all sorry for himself for the probability that he wasn't good enough for Ty. On the grounds that he wasn't brave enough? No. Of course Louie wasn't good enough for Ty. That was an irrefutable fact. But what mattered right now was that his carelessness had almost gotten Ty killed today and he couldn't, in good conscience, be focusing on anything else. He almost got Ty killed. He almost got Ty killed. He almost got Ty killed. That was a little more important than "Boohoo, cute bear boy is never gonna kiss me. I'm sad." To make matters worse, Louie had gone and chosen the perfect time to figure out he was in love with Ty. Sure, It had left him happily dopey at the time. But now, after everything that happened, it was like his imaginary little love letter left a paper cut on his heart and splashed it with lemon juice. Ty was going to resign as his retainer. The more Louie said this to himself, the easier it would be to accept it when he received the news. It was truly possible Ty was currently out of his life for good. As much as Louie was trying to talk himself into hunting the boy down right this minute and begging for forgiveness, there was a part of him speculating that Ty would prefer not to see his stupid royal face ever again. It hurt. It really did hurt. But if that's what Ty wanted, Louie would silently abide by the request. He hated to admit it but the spineless side of him didn't want to face Ty either. The last look at him had been his still body laying on an iron bedstead in the castle infirmary. Beakley had assured the stricken Louie that Ty was not dead but refused to divulge the details as she ushered him out and exiled him to his room for the rest of the night. He needed to see Ty conscious. He needed to see him alive. It would be one weight off his chest just to know his retainer had bounced back. But also.....he didn't want to know the damage he'd done. He want to know how badly Ty had been wounded nor how close he had brushed by death. It had been Louie's fault. And he knew that. But the thought of confronting it head-on was a difficult reality to swallow. Even though he should. He should. Completely unrelated but another dumb, embarrassing thing that made him jump out of his skin? Sudden noises. Still completely unrelated but there was a knock at his door.

___________

[OCTOBER 22ND, 11:24AM]

The sky was clear, the autumn air wasn't chilly but pleasantly crisp and there was a lively gathering in the forest. It was held in a wide clearing, bursting with happy people, milling around and chatting. Surrounding them was an almost perfect circle of tangled old oaks, their branches wreathed with strings of homemade lanterns and flower garlands.

Ty and Louie were quick to turn on tunnel vision towards the table with a large arrangement of party food. They came away with armfuls of bread, cheese, fruits and two tankards of apple cider. They found a spot for themselves, hiding away behind a stack of bailed hay just on the outskirts of the festivities. They set up their little feast, which they wasted no time in devouring.

There were minstrels playing a vibrant tune. But even with all their flutes, fiddles and practice, they fell short in comparison to the natural music of Ty Cloudkicker's laughter. Louie was talking fast. He was gravitating into Ty's space as he did so, lured in by the bubbling sound. He was eager, grinning deliriously as he spouted out more and more of his story to keep the laugh from fading.

As if it was a lifeline. Like the back of his mind was utterly terrified it would stop. Yet he was entranced with a flood with endorphins, so enamored with the resonance that he couldn't help but be elated as he rattled on to keep himself alive. "Okay, so nobody specifically told Uncle Donald that keeping snacks in your crown was not considered "Kingly" behavior. But see, he just saw it as an extra pocket. He didn't get what the big deal was."

When Ty laughed hard enough, he started snorting. He attempted to control himself. Louie wished he wouldn't. "So imagine being one of those advisor buzzard dorks, right? And you're having this big, important royal audience with the new king. And then right in the middle of discussing warships or something, he reaches into his crown, (not breaking eye contact.) and starts munching on a fish sandwich. They looked at him like he just spat on their mothers' graves." The octave skyrocketed and Ty disintegrated into high pitched cackles, tightly clutching his side as if he would split in half. It swept away the narrative in Louie's head, fizzling the thought process as he continued to gaze at Ty as if he were channeling golden light. However, his brain did not send the memo to this mouth that it was time to stop talking. Which led to Louie stuttering out "And the--....He--...uh, he--,um...." a brainless smile slapped on his face all the while. He couldn't stop smiling. He was crashing and burning and he couldn't stop smiling. He was certain he would be humiliated over this blunder later but right now, it was pretty funny. Thankfully, his subconscious had mercy on him, cutting him off with a nervous, breathless giggle. Ty was oblivious to whatever kind of gay breakdown Louie was having as he was trying to regain composure from his own hysterics. He was beginning to calm down, occasional wheezy yet delighted noises still sputtering out of him. His shoulders relaxed and he leaned back with a shaky exhale, still stuck with that huge sunny smile. They fell into a silence in the aftermath, content to sit and just listen to the music. Ty picked up his cider and took a gulp. Louie mirrored him. Then Ty's entire frame bucked with a surprise hiccup and Louie nearly choked. He was pretty sure he saw his whole life flash before his eyes as he collapsed into a coughing fit, Ty thumping him firmly on the back. "I'll live, I'll live!" Louie gasped, regaining himself. "Stop hitting me, I bruise like a peach." "Sorry." He drew his hand away. Then he hiccuped again and Louie lost it. "It's not funny!" Ty insisted, a desperate crack to his voice. It was pretty hilarious, actually. Not just the ridiculous little noises, but the way his shoulders jumped and how he would blink in split second afterwards, startled and bewildered like a baby animal. Ty gave him a shove, Louie still snickering and flailing his hands to halfheartedly fend him off. "Hey, hey, what gives you the right to attack me? I nearly choked and died 'cause of you." "Sounds like a "you" problem." "Where'd those hiccups even come from? Your papa bear never teach you not to drink your cider so fast?" Ty's bottom lip jutted out, irritated. He shook his head "Nah, it's--" Hic. Louie snorted. "Shut up!" He snapped. Yeah, his face was definitely a darker shade of pink than usual. "Sometimes I get hiccups if I laugh too much." "Huh. that's a thing that can happen?" "Yeah. A thing I gotta live with." Hic. "Lemme guess, this hasn't happened in a while?" "Huh?" Ty turned to him, perplexed. "Nah, it happens all the time. And when I tell ya it's the most annoying thing--" "You can't be serious." Louie smiled with a disbelieving shake of the head. "You, like, barely laugh anymore." "What's that supposed to mean?" "What?" He shrugged. "You don't." Ty rolled his eyes and directed his vision elsewhere. "I usually do whenever I go back to the glen." "Are Ben and Lottie really that funny?" "They are the least funny people I know. Also they suck and they're cheaters and I hate them." Hic. Let's see. So, he was clearly pouting. Acting all petty about his siblings. The Glen. Laughing to the point of hiccups. "Lots of tickle fights, huh?" Louie deduced, a smirk playing across his beak. Ty considered him for a moment, as if he was thinking about decking him right then and there but ultimately decided it wasn't worth the effort. (Louie was offended.) He then looked off into the distance, an indescribably haunted look in his eye. "Soooo....I'm gonna guess you usually lose the tickle fi--?" "I do not!" Ty abruptly yelled, shooting him an indignant look. "Let's get this straight, if it's one-on-one, I win. I always win. You better not forget that, your highness." He jabbed Louie's chest with his forefinger. "I'm the best fighter out of the three of us. In fact, I probably got the potential to be the best fighter in the whole kingdom!" "Real modest." "It's just if they team up, then it's unfair! That's why they're--" Hic. Louie watched, delightfully entertained as Ty hissed "God. Damn. Hiccups." "And how often do they team up?" He didn't answer right away. Then reluctantly grumbled "Most of the time." "So what I'm hearing is--...." Louie casually leaned against Ty's side, propping his elbow on the latter's shoulder. "You do lose most of the time?" "Shut up." "No." "Okay, so here's the thing. Let's say you're a big, strong brave knight. You're super cool and heroic and everybody respects you." Hic. "Then you go back home and then suddenly you're just someone else's baby brother and they see you just standing there, minding your business and they're just like "Well! Guess I gotta obliterate him!" And they do not hold back." "Ohhhhh, I get that, I totally get that." Said Louie. "Well, not the brave knight part. But y'know. Me and my brothers had to share a room. It was tiny. There was always a foot in your face or whatever. And sometimes when were bored, they started getting rowdy and throwing hands and it's not like I asked but I got dragged in too. When I was just trying to sleep, man! I wasn't asking for a spontaneous duel at 2am." Ty snorted. "Oh yeah, and sometimes Dewey calls me a little bitch." "He's right." Louie knocked his body against Ty's, making a sound of faux outrage. Ty only found that funnier. Huffing, Louie pawed around for the cluster of grapes at his side. He twisted one free and twirled it around his fingers for a moment. "Watch this. I can feel it. I'm gonna do it this time." "Are you now?" Said Ty in such a distinctly pleasant tone that Louie could not possibly interpret it any other way than "I do not believe that but I'm humoring you but I also want you to understand that my sweet voice is oh, so bitterly sarcastic. Fuck you." "I see you're doubting me." "Me? Doubt my liege? I could never." "Yeah, yeah, yeah, you're a real court jester. Now shut up and observe." Louie wiped all expression from his face and inhaled deeply to obtain peak tranquility. He relaxed his whole frame. If he could pull this off, this would be his day for sure. Ty was watching. This moment would define his life. Thinking a hasty prayer to every known God, force and entity that had ever favored the unlikely ones, he tossed the grape in the air, threw his head back and opened his beak. The grape finished rising and gravity took control. It fell. Down, down, down, down. Louie now understood the concept of meditation. He was so in the zone, he could've sworn the grape was descending in slow motion. Yes, yes, it was aligning directly below his beak. He was gonna catch it! Down, down, down, down. Then Ty snatched it right out of the air and swallowed it whole. Louie sat, slack jawed, attempting to process what had just happened. He slowly turned to Ty, completely blank. Huh. That moment really did define his life. "You bastard!" He squawked. "Me bastard!" Ty exclaimed, looking insufferably proud of himself. "How could you?! I know our allyship has been complicated but this is high treason!" "Sorry, sorry, I just--" He sat back a little, shaking with silent laughter. He then formed a square with his hands and hovered it before Louie, squinting one eye. "I just needed to see the face you would make and god, it was worth it. You think you could hold that face for a few hours to get a portrait made? I'd get it framed and hang it in my room." He was teasing him. Louie knew he was teasing him. And yet he still blushed bright red from the fragment of fondness blurred in the implication. "W-well, well I would--I'd--" He floundered, racking his brain for a retort. "You think there's any musical instruments that could replicate your dorky little hiccups? I'd hire minstrels just to have them play it for me! Y'know, for when I need a laugh." Ty's smug grin dropped and his eyes flicked about uncertainly. "I--..." He dragged the word out, face flushing at a rapid rate as he folded his knees up to curl in on himself. He crossed his arms. "I think they're gone now anyway." He mumbled. Hic. God, that never got old. "If you laugh one more time, I'm putting you in a tree and leaving you there." Louie laughed again, out of spite. "Nobody's fault but your own. Imagine you've just fought an epic battle and you think there's no more enemies to take on. But as soon as you say that out loud, boom! Second ambush! You would think a warrior like you would get that." "Your highness?" "Yeah?" "Shut your huge mouth." "No." "Okay. Dunno why I thought that would work. Never does." "Y'know I would offer to spook your hiccups away. But we both know that wouldn't work." "Yeah, probably not." Said Ty with a shake of his head. He perked up a bit. "Lottie gave it a shot once. Nothing." "Well, it's just like you said that one time." Louie shrugged, then faltered when the back of his mind took notice of the dimly glowing orange irises he was met with. His voice softened involuntarily. "You're fearless." He didn't know what he said wrong. Ty's face fell. He looked so utterly devastated that Louie, completely lost to why he was even upset, felt his own heart shatter to pieces. He wanted to start sobbing just from seeing him. "Oh..." Ty whispered. He clutched one of his hands with the other and began fidgeting with his fingers. "Well, see. Uh, the thing about that is--...." Concerned, Louie scooched in closer, peering at the face that had once again turned away from him. He hesitantly touched Ty's upper arm. "Hey. Ty. Are you--?" "HEY, LOOK AT THAT!" Ty blurted out, his voice nervously rising in pitch. He attempted to subtly clear his throat. Louie followed the direction of Ty's pointer finger which was gesturing out to the thick expanse of forestry. There was nothing there. But then he caught a flash of movement and noticed two figures tucked away in the shadows of the trees. A young man and woman, probably only a few years older than them. "The couple?" Louie asked, puzzled. "The what now?" Then Ty did a double take, then snapped to attention as if he had just noticed them. "Oh! Oh, yeah, them, sure. I mean, yeah, that's what I meant. Them. Uhhh....look at them!" "Uh. Okay? Why?" "Theeeyyyy're....cute? Gross? They're something. They're definitely something." Louie hummed, taking the two into consideration. The girl was letting out a peal of laughter and the guy was blabbing away animatedly, looking thrilled with himself that she was finding him funny. He was trying so hard.... Louie didn't know if he wanted to gag or coo out an "aww!" "Grossly cute." He decided. Ty snapped his fingers. "That's it!" "You know, I don't get why they're over there. There's tons of people around here. Why would you wanna show up to a party if you're just gonna hide away and hang out with one person the whole time?" "For real though." For the next few minutes, Ty and Louie observed the couple, keeping up a running commentary on the guy's obvious nerves and the girl's less than subtle advances. Ty and Louie learned a lot about themselves in those few minutes. Namely that they were both terrible at lip reading. "He said Pants." Ty was certain. "No, he said Nance." Louie countered. "Her name is probably Nancy." The girl clapped her hands together, nodding eagerly. "Then what's that for, huh? Clearly he just offered to tailor her a personalized pair of pants." "You are so dumb, that's not what's happening here at all." The guy took a dramatic step back and twirled his wrist an unnecessary amount of times before offering her his hand with a half-bow. She took it, giggling. The two them scampered off, out of the shadows and into the heart of the party, where other couples were twirling around as the minstrels played. He curled an arm around her waist, smiling as though this was his greatest honor and they spun into the motion, flowing so naturally amidst the other dancers as if they were simply another cogwheel in the world's most elegant clock. "Dance." Said Ty and Louie in unison. "Pretty sure we were close." "Pretty sure we're idiots." "Yeah, I know but just let me pretend." Ty suddenly snickered, his eyes glinting. "What was that thing he did with his hand anyway? And why did she eat it up?" "It's called flair, Tiberius." "Kinda dumb." "You're just mad that flair is not something you possess." "Bullshit, watch this!" Ty sat up straight and bent his arm into a perfect ninety-degree angle. "Prepare to be amazed." And then his entire forearm began to spin and spin and spin and spin and spin like a windmill in a hurricane. "Flair, flair, flair, flair," He was chanting and Louie had already collapsed in a giggle fit. It wasn't even remotely funny. It was dumb, it was so dumb. But Louie could admit to himself that dumb schticks get like ninety percent more humorous to him if there's a really cute boy performing them. He was easy like that. Ty was extremely committed to the joke as he kept spinning and spinning for over ten seconds. He kept shooting Louie glances and his grin got wider and wider every time he looked away. "FLAIR!" He let his arm go, throwing out an open palm and nearly knocked it against the side of Louie's head. "Hey!" He dodged. "Watch where you swing that thing, you could've whacked me!" "But I didn't!" Said Ty gleefully. He lowered his hand but did not withdraw. It remained unwavering and offered out to Louie. He took it. He didn't think, he just took it. It was only when they made contact that Louie woke up and his heart promptly spiked. But besides a light blush, he managed to keep his face neutral. "So, I guess it's not just that girl who's impressed by this stuff." Ty was nonchalant. His smile then twitched, as if aching to stretch wider but he was reigning it in. "You are too." They were still touching, which, by all accounts, should continue to fluster Louie. But as seconds ticked by, a sense of calm was settling over him. The very thing originally causing panic was now bringing him comfort. It was the weirdest thing, "I was laughing at you, not with you." He said evenly, catching Ty's contagious smile. "Ehh," He shrugged. "I'll take it." Louie would count this as a new domain for sure. Uncharted waters. As if he and Ty had stumbled in accidentally but now they were here, their curiosity was urging them to explore. Not to a dangerous extent, of course. But maybe just edge along the sidelines and see what they could discover. "Your hands are so tiny, it's crazy." Ty commented, tilting his head. Turning it over, he slid his thumb thoughtfully across Louie's palm. "How do you even hold anything?" Louie wasn't even eyeing their hands but was regarding Ty's pensive face. "It's kinda the worst. Whenever we find treasure and I get my cut, the fancy rings and bracelets are huge. I always gotta go to a jeweler and get them resized if I wanna wear them."' Ty was fiddling with Louie's fingers now, fixing him with a decisive nod. "I'll get you a ring for Christmas." "Woah, woah. For real?" "Yeah. I'll put it in one of those fancy boxes. But then you'll open it and see it's made out of grass and try to have me beheaded." As they were speaking, their hands continued to play around. Ty had flattened his own, aligning his palm against Louie's. Louie spread his fingers and Ty laced his through. "Uncle Donald says I'm not allowed to say "Off with his head" anymore or I'm grounded 'til I'm thirty-five. It "makes the people want to revolt."" Louie air-quoted with his free hand. "But I would fire you for sure." Ty snorted. "You would not and you know it." There would never be any proof that they held hands that day. Not a single eye witnesses, including themselves, as both boys had turned a blind eye to their own actions. They were afraid to look down, as that would be an acknowledgement. Louie had no mental image of the moment, fuschia fur intertwined with snow feathers, only a rush of heat and a hazy ponder if the dampness was his sweat or Ty's. And if the feel of Ty's touch was just an illusion of the mind, there was one poignant hint of the reality and that was how gentle their voices had gotten. "Oh, so, you're really gonna test me like that, Tiberius? Pushing me around, stealing grapes, calling me a little bitch. Is this any way to treat your liege? You don't think I'm at the end of my rope with you?" "Nahhhh...." Ty drew the word out, grinning. He twisted his muzzle into an exaggerated pout and batted his eyes. "You would never because I'm awesome and cool and smart and you love me." It was Ty's utter nerve that left Louie too astonished to even blush. Instead, he simply tilted his head, an eyebrow cocked. "Do I?" He challenged. To his credit, Ty did not relent either. However, the impishness gradually died from his eyes until he was left solemn. "Maybe?" He spoke softly, as though too much force would crack the delicate little word. He bore into Louie's eyes, like he was searching for an answer. Pleading for an answer. Louie felt his own hand squeeze Ty's. He inhaled. He knew he was going to say something, he was just leaving it up his own scattered subconscious to determine what. He would open his beak and whatever words wound up tumbling out would seal his fate. He didn't have a second to panic, to fret, as he was already speaking and he was petrified by how fast this was all going. "I--" Something shattered and a woman screamed in pain. Indistinct shouting and Ty cursed under his breath. Louie scrambled around to see the commotion and the last few things he registered were the gleam of sunlight catching unsheathed weapons, the girl he called Nancy with crimson pooling from her forehead, Ty demanding "Get down!" and knocking him stomach-down into the ground.

“Stay there and don’t move.” Then Ty had rushed off and everything went to shit.

___________

[OCTOBER 22ND, 7:13PM] Louie was well acquainted with that knock. Firstly, one firm rap against wood, proceeded by two more rapid-fire. He associated it with a twinge of annoyance, high sun beams streaking in his window and somebody near, dear and insufferable to his heart, pestering him from the other side to rise and shine already or his breakfast would go stale. This usually occurred around 9:30AM. If given a say in the matter, Louie would sleep til noon. But he didn't have a say in the matter because every morning, without fail, there was a retainer banging down his door. Something was off this time. Once he knocked, Ty had fallen uncharacteristically silent. No continuation of drumming out an obnoxious little tune and and no insisting he open up. Louie was hesitant to do much of anything. It seemed his door was the only thing protecting him from facing repercussions right now. If he fell deep enough into denial, he could pretend Ty wasn't there. So long as he kept his door shut, he could pretend everything was alright. Ty didn't almost die. It was a tempting thought. It resounded in such an appealing voice inside his head that Louie seized his latch before he could give in. The brass shocked a chill to the pads of his fingers as he held on tight. He had to open up. He had to. His hand fidgeted, stalling the moment. He thumped his forehead against the door, heaving a steadying sigh. "You don't wanna see me, do you, your highness?" He heard Ty say in hushed tones, his voice startlingly close to where Louie had situated himself. "Ehh, if we're being honest....not really." "Oh...." "Do you wanna see me?" "I mean....I kinda don't? The idea of seeing you right now is making me nauseous." The statement skewered Louie's heart. He shook it off. "Why'd you knock?" "'Cause it doesn't matter what I want, I gotta see you right now. It's important." An prolonged pause hung in the air, buzzing with a mutual uncertainty. Louie tapped his fingers to the wood and after a second or two, Ty did the same. Their respective rhythms aligned. "But..." Ty continued, his voice faltering. "If you don't wanna see me, I can go--" "Convince me." Louie was blurting out before he thought twice about it. "Huh?" "I need to open this door but, like surprise surprise, I'm scared. You've done it before. I get scared and you talk me into stuff. Do your big strong hero magic and get me to suck it up. Please, I need it." "Oh, uh, I--" He could hear how flustered Ty had gotten suddenly being put on the spot. "Well, I--...I guess you don't have a choice 'cause if you don't open up, I'm strong enough to barricade the door down. So, I figure we should just do this the easy way." Despite the circumstances and the scruple wrung tense in his stomach, Louie felt the corner of his beak twitch at the tentative touch to Ty's tone. He felt his stiff shoulders relax. "Is that a threat, Tiberius?" "Uh, no." Ty admitted, sounding sheepish. "That was just a joke. See, it was the first thing that came into my head and then suddenly I was saying it. Sorry, I dunno for sure if now is "joke time" and I figured it'd be kinda weird to ask so--" He didn't get to finish rambling. His hair whipped to the side with the rush of air that came with the swift swing of the door. Louie fixed him with a hard look, processing the sight of his retainer standing there, alive and bright eyed. Ty's hand was still hovering awkwardly in the air, where he assumed it had been resting against the door. He blinked back at him, puzzled and a little alarmed, as if caught under a spotlight. He didn't look angry. But Louie knew better than to lull himself into thinking he was in the clear. Whatever resentment Ty was feeling would spill out in time. Louie braced himself. "Hey, Ty." He said stiffly. "Come on in."

#ty cloudkicker #fairytale au

79 notes · View notes

jbbarnesnnoble · 5 years ago

Text

Hello lovely people! And welcome to my first writting challenge. The aim of this challenge is to shine a light on mental health, medical conditions, and the things that can have impacts on us. This started out initially being a PCOS Awareness challenge but through conversations on the TCC discord, it’s become a challenge surrounding mental health in general.

May is Mental Health Awareness Month. The goal of this challenge is to lift each other up, and show that it’s okay not to be okay. Spread some love and light during a challenging time in the world to those who struggle with chronic illness, depression, anxiety, self-esteem issues, grief, PCOS, acceptance from their families and communities for being LGBT+, and anyone struggling with insecurity.

This challenge will run through September 15th, 2020. It will run through part of Mental Health Awareness Month, through Pride Month, and through part of PCOS Awareness Month. I probably have too many prompts, but I wanted to ensure that there was a wide array to choose from.

The Rules:

1. Utilize resources available online if you’re dealing with subject matter you’re not that familiar with. I’m not going to go all “cite sources” on y’all, but please do make sure to do your research. Writing about some of these issues can be hard if you don’t have first hand knowledge of how it can affect you. The goal of this challenge is to write about topics that we tend to shy away from, that many of us struggle with, from mental health struggles to chronic illnesses to low-self esteem. A gentle reminder that if you think writing about a subject will be triggering for you, please look after yourself first.

2. Use #JBBNNMHAMChallenge to tag your fic

3. Dark!Fic- I was up in the air on allowing dark!fic in the challenge. Due to the subject matter involved in this challenge, please don’t submit dark!fic. I enjoy dark fics, but this challenge isn’t the place for them.

4. Smut- Smut is welcome! Make sure you tag it appropriately.

5. No inc*st, dubcon/noncon, underage, etc

6. Ships- I prefer reader inserts, but show me what ya got

7. Selecting Prompts: Just let me know which one you want to do! 2 people per prompt! The song prompts have a line from them under it. You DO NOT need to use the line in your submission! It’s mostly to help you decide if you’re interested in a song before you take a listen to it. The song prompts are broken down into ‘support’, ‘general’, and ‘grief’ but feel free to use them as you see fit. I categorized them mostly for organization

8. Trigger Warnings: Use warnings as needed. Fics dealing with depression, anxiety, eating disorders, or other mental health issues should be tagged appropriately to ensure that readers that may be triggered by the subject matter can avoid the fic. Trigger warnings are non-negotiable

The prompts are under the cut!

Prompts:

Dialogue Prompts:

“You never have to ask, you know that right? Say the word, and I’ll do it.” ( @whistlingwillows )

“Would you believe me if I said it’s because I love you? I’d give you the world if you asked.” ( @jbbuckybarnes )

“I promise you. One day, it will get easier. Those feelings might never fully go away, but it will get easier.” ( @imnotasuperhero )

“You ever feel like you can’t breathe? Like the whole world is collapsing in on itself and no one notices? No one cares? Like you can’t escape it?” ( @nekoannie-chan )

“It’d probably be easier if you left”

“Please leave me alone”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it. What part of that is hard for you to understand?” ( @sweetwritesx )

“I wish I could believe you when you said that.” ( @evansweaters )

“How do you even begin to move on?” ( @blackwidowballet )

“You sure about that, moonman?”

“I don’t know. All I do know is I don’t belong here” (@buckybarnesplumwhore)

“That’s not true. And I will tell you that every day of your life until you believe me.”

Sentence Prompts:

Feel free to adjust the pronouns as needed

It was a day. It was the only way it could be described.

The feeling stuck like super glue, unable to be shaken away with a few whispered words and comforting hugs. ( @buckybarney )

You never knew something could hurt like this, that emotional pain could resonate so strongly through every atom of your body. (@buckybarnesplumwhore)

That smile. He/she missed that smile. ( @bethycupcake )

It was progress. Baby steps forward. Maybe it wouldn’t all be okay today, but someday? It would be. ( @trillian-anders )

The list of medications that had been tried seemed like it was a mile long. ( @buckyreaderrecs)

If you had another condescending doctor tell you your problem wasn’t a problem you were going to scream.

The warmth of the sun fell over you like a blanket in the middle of winter. ( @avintagekiss24 )

Today was going to be good.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that this was going south.

AU and Trope Prompts:

Soulmate

College

Childhood Friends

Friends to Lovers

Enemies to Lovers

Musicians

Writer

Professional Athlete

Teacher

Coffee Shop

Fake Dating

Accidental Marriage

Royal

Librarian

Neighbors ( @shakespeareanqueer )

Song Prompts:

Support:

1. Nobody Ever Told You - Carrie Underwood

Lyric Snippet: “Wish you could see yourself the way I do. Nobody ever told you, nobody ever told you. Shine like a diamond, glitter like gold, and you need to know what nobody ever told you”

2. Missing You - All Time Low

Lyric Snippet: “And if you need a friend, I’ll help you stitch up your wounds. I heard that you’ve been, having some trouble finding your place in the world. I know how much that hurts. But if you need a friend, then please just say the word.”

3. Barefoot and Bruise - Jamestown Story Lyric Snippet: “Maybe when your sky comes crashing down, I can be your angel on the ground. If you get tired and can’t go on, I will carry you along, when the rocks below your feet wear out your shoes, when you’re barefoot and bruised”

4. Hold On Till May- Pierce the Veil Lyric Snippet: “If were you, I’d put that away. See you’re just wasted and thinking about the past again. Darling, you’ll be okay.”

5. This Song Saved My Life - Simple Plan Lyric Snippet: “You let me know like no one else that it’s okay to be myself” ( @captain-kelli )

General: 1. It Feels Like - 1551 Lyric Snippet: “No I’m not fine, every second is a record of why, I live my life never doing things right”

2. Sunrise - 1551 Lyric Snippet: “Nightmare that’s not gonna stop, it’s darkness you’re not gonna stop”

3. Home - Machine Gun Kelly, X Ambassadors, Beba Rexha Lyric Snippet: “All these miles, feet, inches, they can’t add up to the distance that I have been through just to get to a place where even if there’s no closure I’m still safe. I still ache from trying to keep pace. Somebody give me a sign, I’m starting to lose faith”

4. Broken Arrows - Daughtry Lyric Snippet: “The best of intentions I lay at your feet. And I need you to see past the worst part of me.”

5. Used - Serious Matters Lyric Snippet: “The wounds are gone and the pain still lingers. But this time I won’t stand by, I don’t need you in my life”

6. Unsteady - X Ambassadors Lyric Snippet: “Hold on to me, ‘cause I’m a little unsteady, a little unsteady” ( @jamesbarnesappreciationclub )

7. Let It Land - Tonight Alive Lyric Snippet: “And everything we hate is something we just bought along the line”

8. Cold As You - Taylor Swift Lyric Snippet: “You put up walls and paint them all a shade of grey. And I stood there loving you and wished them all away. And you come away with a great little story, of a mess of a dreamer with the nerve to adore you”

9. Tied Together with a Smile - Taylor Swift Lyric Snippet: “Hold on, baby you’re losing it. The water’s high, you’re jumping into it, and letting go, and no one knows. That you cry but you don’t tell anyone that you might not be the golden one. And you’re tied together with a smile, but you’re coming undone.”

10. Human Interaction - Tonight Alive Lyric Snippet: “I don’t know love. I don’t know hate. I am numb. Wish I could find the words to say. Asking please, as colors fade. I need to breathe. Before I turn the world to grey.”

Grief:

1. Jersey On the Wall (I’m Just Asking) - Tenille Townes

Lyric Snippet: “If I ever get to heaven, you know I got a long list of questions. Like how do you make a snowflake, are you angry when the earth quakes? How does the sky change in a minutes, how do you keep this big rock spinning? Why can’t you stop a car from crashing? Forgive me, I’m just asking”

2. Five More Minutes - Scotty McCreery

Lyric Snippet: “Time rolls by, the clock don’t stop. I wish I had a few more drops of the good stuff, the good times. Oh, but they just keep on flying right on by like it ain’t nothing, wish I had me a, a pause button. Moments like those, Lord knows I’d hit it. Give myself five more minutes”

3. Dad’s Old Number - Cole Swindell

Lyric Snippet: “Sometimes I forget, these ten digits ain’t my lifeline anymore. Every now and then I dial them up when life gets tough or when the Braves score. Sorry about the one ring hang ups, early morning and late night wake ups. It was just me. In case you wondered, you’ve got dad’s old number.”

4. The Other Side - Lauren Alaina

Lyric Snippet: “There’s gonna be a lot of sadness on a lot of happy days, I’ll try to think of this moment, this place”

5. I Was Here - Beyonce

Lyric Snippet: “So they won’t forget I was here. I lived. I loved. I was here. I did, I’ve done, everything that I wanted and it was more than I thought it would be. I will leave my mark so everyone will know I was here.”

6. Gone Too Soon - Simple Plan

Lyric Snippet: “Like a shooting star, flying across the room. So fast, so far, you were gone too soon. You’re a part of me. And I’ll never be the same here without you. You were gone too soon.”

7. Amelia - Tonight Alive

Lyric Snippet: “And you will always be perfect, you’ll always be beautiful, our hearts, will never forget you. You didn’t belong here, and it’s become so clear why heaven called your name.”

#JBBNNMHAMChallenge #writing challenge #marvel #mcu #marvel writing challenge #steve rogers #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #bucky barnes/reader #steve rogers/reader #wanda maximoff/reader #tony stark/reader #tony stark #sam wilson #natasha romanoff/reader #sam wilson/reader

73 notes · View notes

achtung-attitude · 4 years ago

Photo

CHAPTER 42: Smooth Criminal - Part 3

The siblings lived off the grid for four years, scrounging their way through adolescence, making their way through acts of petty crime. As the War on Terror turned sour and the world’s finances crashed into global recession, Knowles and Toto each developed into hardened criminals in their own right.

By the time Knowles was 18, as well as dealing drugs, the two siblings were robbing banks, with Toto scouting and planning the heists, while his sister used her talent for violence to commit the acts. Together, they had an almost flawless record of success.

Despite this, Toto clung to his vices, spending as much time as he could high on marijuana. One night, Knowles returns to their then-residence, a disused and abandoned building in Watts, to find her brother in his usual state of intoxication. He reclines on a fine couch, staring listlessly at a flat-screen television.

“Wake the fuck up!” she shouts, kicking the sofa.

Toto doesn’t flinch. “Oh hey. I wasn’t sleepin’...” he says drowsily, “How’d the deal go?”

“4,000 bucks for that load of skag from last week. Fuckng’ chump change, but forget that! Have you even moved from that spot today?! All day, you sit there while I’m out keeping us fed!”

“Nah, I did… I did move today, I went to the bathroom like an hour ago, and--”

“Shut up!” his sister shouts, knocking the TV off of its counter and sending it shattering on the floor. “What the hell’s the matter with you?! You’re one of the smartest people I know, and you waste all your time and money on pot!! Are you trying to prove Aunt Janet right about you?! You want what she said to be true?!”

“... She was right, wasn’t she?”

Knowles pauses. “... What?”

“Aunt Janet said I was scum, and she was right.. So’s e’rybody. E’rybody thinks they’re somebody, but they ain’t… Dad mattered, he was somebody. He did e’rything right, e’rything he was s’pposed to do. Mom too. And then somebody walked to ‘em and shot ‘em in they fuckin’ heads. I couldn’t stop it… I couldn’t stop it. Because I don’t matter… Nobody matters…”

“Toto…” Knowles begins, uncommonly soft.

“That’s no way to think at all, young man,” a voice from the doorway chides.

Knowles was sure she locked the door behind her, and even if she hadn’t, she should have heard the latch click and the hinges swing open. But when she turns, she finds an old black man, standing as if he had been there the whole time. He is frocked in a white coat and wide-brimmed hat, with a gentle smile spread along his face.

The preacher removes his hat and raises it over his head, a gesture of salutation. “Good evening to the both of you! My name is--”

Knowles pulls her gun out of the front of her pants and fires four shots into the old man. He stumbles backwards and hits the wall, still clutching his hat. But a moment passes, and he simply gets up and brushes himself off right before Knowles’ horrified eyes. There is no blood, no wounds, nor even any bullet holes in the preacher’s clothes.

“Aaahh…!” he exclaims, like he just received a massage, “I thank you for that. I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. As I was saying--”

“RAAAAGHH!!!” Knowles roars and unloads her weapon on him, emptying the remaining 14 rounds into the preacher’s body. Once that clip is empty, she produces another from her pocket, reloads, then empties that as well. Still, once finished the preacher starts to get up, none the worse for wear.

“Knowles…!” Toto says as his sister is about to produce a third clip of bullets. “I don’t think it’s workin’...”

Knowles scowls. She keeps her pistol trained on the old man, but she doesn’t reload it. “May I speak now?” The preacher asks, and Knowles finally lowers her pistol. “Good evening to the both of you!” he repeats in the same tone of voice as before, even raising his hat in the exact same way, “My name is Brother Dust, and I’ve come to introduce myself as an admirer of your work. You may, perhaps, have already heard of me?”

“No,” Knowles spits.

“I have…” Toto says, blinking out of his lethargy, “You’re the preacher man. You was around back in ‘92… During the riot...”

“Oh!” the preacher man exclaims, clapping his hands in delight, as he takes off his hat and places it on the counter where the TV was. “That’s good! Wonderful, this won’t take up too much time, then! Speaking bluntly, I’ve been following your activities closely for the last several seasons, and I am impressed! Most within the industry are convinced the recent campaign of bank robberies are the work of an entirely new, upstart gang, but I recognized the unmistakable touch of an independent entrepreneur. I was sure that it could only be the work of one, or at the most, two bold souls. And lo and behold, here you are! Like the Good Book says:

Beware you of the leaven of the Pharisees, which is hypocrisy.

For there is nothing covered, that shall not be revealed; neither hid, that shall not be known. Therefore whatever you have spoken in darkness shall be heard in the light; and that which you have spoken in the ear in closets shall be proclaimed on the housetops.

That’s the Gospel of Luke. Chapter 12, Verses 1-3. Do you know the meaning of this particular passage?”

Knowles stares at him blankly.

“Christ warns His apostles against the sin of the flesh,” Dust continues, “the chief among them being hypocrisy and the fear of death. The soul, He declares, is immortal. No Pharisee or man of violence can ever lay hands upon it, so why fear them? One who preaches the True Word should have no fear in him but the fear of God. To fear the hands of men when one has been ordained by the Almighty? That is the hypocrisy of which Christ speaks.”

“What the fuck… are you talking about…?” Knowles asks at last.

The old man blinks and then laughs, waving his hands about embarrassedly. “Oh my goodness, me, sorry about that! There I go again, spouting theology! I’m afraid I tend to get too caught up in my devotion! This is your home, and I’m merely a guest here to present you with a proposition. Young man!” he says, turning to Toto, still slouched on the bed, “Please, don’t hold back on my account! By all means, indulge in your narcotic. ‘Take a hit’, as the young people say!”

Toto glances at his blunt and stares at the preacher. He seems to be trying to think of something to say, but eventually, he raises the blunt to his lips and inhales softly. About a second after he lowers it, his eyes bug out of his head and he starts coughing heartily.

“Toto?!” his sister cries, rushing to his side on the bed, “What’s wrong?!”

“I’m fine!” Toto replies, surprised. He raises his hand and stares at it with wide, completely lucid eyes. The high he was just enjoying appears to have dissipated like morning fog. “It’s like I smoked caffeine or something…!”

“Now that we’re all comfortable,” Dust says, drawing the siblings’ attention. He has sat down in the armchair adjacent to the couch, laying his hat on the coffee table. “I’d like to get to my proposition, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Neither sibling objects.

“In very simple terms, I’d like to recruit into my organization. Now I know what you’re thinking…!” he proclaims, raising his hands in theatrical defense, “You’ve both been doing very well for yourselves as an independent outfit, thus I recognize your disinclination to becoming subordinate to another! But consider this: An entrepreneur may indeed have the freedom to operate how he or she pleases, but the risk of failure is far greater. Luck, or rather Fate, plays a role in the success or failure of every endeavor, and sooner or later, all of us lose favor with Fate.

“But as part of a collective, you receive the protection of your peers. What I propose is not to simply join an organization, but to become part of an enterprise that will give you the means to awaken your true selves! To rise above and-!!”

“SHUT UP ALREADY!!” Knowles shouts. Dust pauses, his passionate pitch cooling into an amused grin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I don’t give a fuck!” Knowles continues, standing in front of the preacher with clenched fists. “Even if I gotta die for it, nobody tells me what to do!! All I want to know is how you did all that shit?! How’d I empty my piece on you and you don’t even flinch?! What the fuck even are you?!”

“... Were you not paying attention? I thought I explained earlier, remember? Luke, Chapter 12?” Dust raises a finger to his temple and taps it gently. “I am a preacher of the True Word, who does not know the death of the body. And the True Word is that the List is written. The ink is dry. Only those with pure souls will see Paradise. Those like me, and like you.”

“Pure…?”

“Yes. Only those with pure souls can become vessels of divine power. Your brother achieved purity through the banishment of desire, wanting nothing, giving himself over to the flow of Fate. But for you, my dear, your soul has been purified by the fire of hatred. The overwhelming desire to control, to consume. That is why you will both make excellent vessels.”

“That’s such bullshi--!!” Knowles begins advancing towards the old preacher, but a hand on her shoulder gives her pause. She turns to see her brother standing behind with a serious look on his face.

“... We’re interested.” Toto says to Dust, sounding more sensible than he has in years.

“... The hell we are!!” she yells, slapping his hand away. She expects him to recoil from her then, backing away from any confrontation, but to her surprise, Toto stands firm and looks her in the eye.

“We should hear what he’s got to say,” he says. “You saw what he can do. If… If he’s talking about what I think he is, then we might--”

“Fuck that!! Weren’t you listening before?! Even if I have to die, no one tells me what to do! Especially not you!!”

“Do you wanna stay here forever?!” Toto shouts, stunning his sister into silence. “Holdin’ up banks for the rest of your life, never changing anything?!” He calms down, lowering his voice, but his intensity does not dissipate, focusing into a quiet determination. He points at Dust and says, “He’s got… some kind of ability. Something that makes him special. And he’s offering to give us the same kind of ability… Can you afford to miss this chance? Don’t you still have something you need to do?”

Knowles opens her mouth to retort with some sharp, biting remark, but nothing comes to her. She stares into her brother’s eyes and sees strength in them she had never seen before.

A moment of silence passes. At the end of it, she sighs, her tense muscles relaxing slightly, but not fully. Her hands remain in fists as she turns to the preacher man. “... I don’t pray.”

The preacher man smiles brightly and rises from his seat. “Worry not!” he beams, retrieving his hat, “Whether consciously or not, all our actions aid the will of a higher power…”

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #achtung attitude #dust #knowles #toto #ch42

3 notes · View notes

smoochi-mochi · 5 years ago

Text

✿ “ You “ ✿

—> Kimetsu no yaiba, Giyū Tomioka

—> Smol angsty Fluff for @kabura-maru Senpai!!

--> I hope this can make you smile !!

(Y/N) opened her eyes, fluttering open only to clench shut once more; in order to shield themselves away from vivid light piercing through the glass windows. (Y/N) couldn’t lift up her arms, completely immobile. Her head was propped up by a pillow that was tucked carefully beneath her neck. Puzzled on how she got in this state in the first place.

“ (Y/N)? “ A masculine voice rang through her head, (E/C) orbs franticly gaze around the room from her position, searching for the source of the man's voice, (Y/N) attempted to lift herself out of her bed until a sharp pain struck her neck.

“ Be careful, you got yourself injured pretty badly. “ (Y/N) blinked a couple times, her ears were ringing immensely. Unable to recognize who the voice could have been. That's when she felt a gentle squeeze on her left hand from somebody else, how long have they been sat at her side? was it a creep? It couldn't be, from her environment it seemed to have been the home of Shinobu, the butterfly estate. Wait... the Estate? How in the world did she end up here? (Y/N) hissed in pain, a powerful migraine tore at her consciousness.

“ How did I end up at the estate? “ (Y/N)’s voice was groggy from just regaining herself. Tilting her head to the side slowly and painfully, only to see none of the the Water pillar at her bedside with dark bags beneath his eyes. His normal monotone voice was the same as she could remember.

“ You were on a mission the other day and managed to get yourself severely injured. We found you unconscious with a young boy in your arms. “ Giyus voice remained unwavered, calmly staring down at (Y/N). He didn’t show much emotion, however the tender grasp of her hand told a whole nother’ story.

“ The boy... was the boy okay? “ (Y/N)’s eyes tear up, remembering the cruel show she had witnessed back during her travels. She found the boy curled up in a ball outside late at night, covered in deep wounds. As she was tending to the young boy they got attacked and that's all she could remember.

“ The child is still breathing, However, he has shown no signs of waking anytime soon. “ Giyu announced clearly to her, while (Y/N) still struggles to focus on his voice with the ringing in her ears. Giyu’s eyes locked with hers, widening when he witnessed tears dribble down (Y/N)s face like rain drops on a delicate flower petal.

“ I failed to protect him, it’s my fault the boy is stuck bedridden. If only I got there sooner, then maybe-! “ (Y/N) was then cut off, emotions overwhelming her.

“ Quiet. Don’t blame this on yourself, especially when you did the best you could. You risked everything for that boy, and he’s still alive. So don't act as if he’s gone yet. “ Giyus voice became much more gentle then before, like silk, afraid his words may hurt (Y/N) more. What he said was true, but (Y/N) couldn't help but begin to croak an ugly sob. Feeling as if she failed.

Giyu changed their position so both of his arms wrapped around her torso, a hand was left on the back of the young woman's head. His fingers combing through her hair, brushing against her scalp tenderly. Allowing her to sob against his chest.

“ You haven't failed at all in my eyes, “ Giyu began, earning a ghost of a smile to himself. “ No matter what you have done, past all your mistakes... I’ll be here. “ His voice was as smooth as the resting tides of an ocean.

Tears continue flooding down (Y/N) cheeks while she felt Giyu planted a gentle kiss on her head. Lifting her head stiffly, their eyes met. Giyu’s small smile and tender eyes made her heart flutter, feeling at home in the man's arms.

Without thinking, (Y/N) leaned up towards Giyu’s face. Before he had a moment to react, a soft pair of lips connect with his. It remained short but sweet, hissing in pain as she leaned back again. Her neck was wrapped up tightly in order to keep her neck positioned correctly, however the bandages were loosening up from all the movement.

“ Thank you, it means so much to hear that coming from you Giyu. I’m sorry I kissed you so suddenly, I- I just couldn't contain it, I guess... “ (Y/N) began to stutter, blush coating her now rosy cheeks. “ You just... Hearing you say those words made me super happy. “ A goofy smile began to form on her features, rubbing off on Giyu as he leaned his forehead against hers. Their noses almost touching as his eyes stare deeply into hers.

“ And I’m happy to see you being yourself again. Stop doubting yourself, (Y/N). You are one of the strongest people I’ve ever met, so keep your chin high. You deserve to smile more often if you can somehow soften me up too. “ Giyu joked at the end, fully aware of how dense he can be at times. “ Plus, It’s pretty cute. “

“ What’s cute? “ (Y/N) asked.

“ You. “

Bonus Information -

Giyu and (Y/N) visit the young boy she saved after a couple weeks and found him back to good health. He had no home to return to, so Giyu and (Y/N) took it into their own hands to raise him into a fine young man. 💕

#Giyuu Tomioka #kny #demon slayer #Kimetsu no yaiba #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #Kimetsu no yaiba x reader #Fluff #mochi is cute #pink!#giyū tomioka x reader #Kny imagine #demon slayer imagine #kimetsu no yaiba imagine #Kny fluff #demon slayer fluff #kimetsu no yaiba fluff

69 notes · View notes

blackfemmecharacterdependency · 4 years ago

Text

25. Not Fine, But Better

Word Count: 6239

Simon went to his father’s to recover. He was on an official break from school (hopefully, no longer than a year), and because of the nature of his injuries, was forced to move back home temporarily. His former employer was reluctant about giving him another position, though they worked out a few things for him to be involved in a freelance capacity, that way they were hiring him for certain projects, but not keeping him on their regular payroll. He planned to enroll in some online studies in the fall, and in the meantime, focused mainly on his ongoing project - the virtual reality social media.

A few things happened. Aside from regular visits to the doctor, because he was doing too much and reopened stitches, or for the extensive treatment that some of his more severe wounds were going to take, not to mention the healing of his spleen, which he was supposed to be taking extra care not to upset, but he was just so restless in bed and so anxious at the house, he kept getting up. The first night, he was content to lay down, primarily due to physical pain and exhaustion.

The trauma doctor had suggested not getting on a plane, which meant that Mr. Laurent would have to stay at Simon’s and take care of him… which meant to Simon that his father would be in his personal space, contaminating it and his thoughts of it AND, he would know where he lived. He absolutely rejected that notion and said that he would hire someone for in-home health… Then he thought about the upcoming legal fees of his fights, potential jail time, even, the way that he abandoned his job, and he decided that maybe he would just go back to the Bay with his dad, against the doctor’s suggestion, because that seemed to be the least agonizing solution for him.

Of course, he re-injured himself, and spent all day in an ER, to receive word that his treatment would take longer and was ordered to bed rest for the spleen healing. He laid down in his old bed, as uncomfortable as it was and fell to sleep almost immediately. Outside of the hospital, where the medication and immediate professional help were, his nightmares became blatantly strong. He kept dreaming of laying in a pool of his own blood, on the cold ground, looking at a manhole, ready to die… and then the Void came out of it, about to swallow him whole and everything went black. He jumped up and immediately held himself. Maybe he needed to be strapped to the bed, as to not hurt more. He took a deep breath and reached for the cane that he would need to walk for a bit… and there was a white cat, resting on his old desk.

“Samantha?” He looked around the room, wondering if this was another dream, about his teenage years or something. But, he came closer and touched the cat and she pleasantly allowed it. It abandoned the cane to pick up the animal and nuzzled her. “Is it really you or did that jackass go find another white cat?” He snuggled her and limped out of the room to go get some water. He froze whenever he got into the kitchen and both of his parents were sitting at the little table.

“Simon!” His mother said. She looked… different than he remembered. She looked younger, somehow, but extremely tired. She came over and tried to take Samantha from him, “Sorry. She must’ve snuck…” He jerked away and almost lost his footing.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Your dad said that you were here, so I stopped by and brought Samantha.”

He glared at her, “You’ve had Samantha this entire time?”

She chuckled and shrugged, “She’s MY cat, Simon. Whenever I was a little better, I stopped by and picked her up one day.”

“And you didn’t think to let me know? Leave a note? Nothing?? I thought she was dead!”

“You seem to be more upset about losing a cat than you’ve ever been about losing one of your family members,” she said. There she was. He knew that tone. He knew those eyes. She hadn’t changed. She was just better at seeming normal.

“Don’t,” his father warned her.

Simon kept Samantha in his clutches as he went to pour himself some water. “When are you leaving?”

The woman sat back down and looked at Mr. Laurent. “Your father thinks that you need us here. That us not being there for you is how you got to be this way.”

“What way is that, Faith?” he asked.

“Don’t,” his father warned the woman whose anger appeared to be rising, again.

“A little shit,” she hissed, despite the warning.

“Goddammit, Faith!” his father said. Simon snickered, wickedly. “Can’t you see that he’s just a hurt kid, acting out?” Now, Simon frowned.

He wanted to storm over and punch his father in the face. He’d done so before, whenever he was a teenager and his father was drunk and complaining about his stupid memorial or whatever. But, Simon was in too much pain to even walk straight, much less, fight. He started angry crying and muttered, “Fuck both of you,” before taking Samantha back into his room, shutting the door (which hurt his side to do) and climbing back into bed with her nestled against himself. “I can’t believe that bitch took you away from me.”

His mother was gone back to her mom’s by the time he got up again. He panicked whenever Samantha wasn’t there and rushed out of his room, clutching himself and neglecting the cane again to question his father about her whereabouts. Then, he heard her meow, excitedly, like she had something to tell him. Many things to tell him! He collected her and brought her back to his room. He kept her in there with him, scared that if she went outside, his mother might steal her again, even though his father assured him that it wouldn’t happen. “I won’t let her,” he had said. When the hell had he ever stopped her from doing anything?

He called “Dick for Brains” and asked if it was possible for him to use video conferencing to schedule an appointment. Dr. Richard was more than willing to accommodate this and seemed genuinely pleased that Simon had decided to try to resume therapy.

However, in their first session back, Simon babbled on about this idea that he had for work. Of course, the therapist was going to let him speak about what he wanted to. It was a huge thing for Simon to even seek out help without being forced, and he was uncharacteristically excited about something. “A VR that serves as experimental experience based therapy. The premise is that you would be able to take these pick your adventure journeys, but each of the decisions would have either rewards or consequences and every choice that you make would take you down certain paths, giving you certain training to deal with your problems and conditioning your decision making, even one day could grant you diagnosis based upon your choices and solutions to said diagnosis…”

“So… you want to replace actual therapy with a virtual reality video game?”

“NO! You do the therapy to help you get better at the game. It’s like… it goes with it… unless you’re not so bad off that you NEED therapy, and then it’s just a tool in character education…”

“Okay. That sounds interesting. How is that coming along for you?”

“Ugh. It’s shit. You know… I don’t have the best gauge for reasonable decisions. So, I’m trying to program a lot of things, but I’m depending on various algorithms, and the things that I need to be more specific about, well - I’ve been reading a lot of psychology stuff to sort of help me out. Also, Grace had SO MANY resources available in her featured links on her website…” Simon’s eyes glossed over whenever he started talking about Grace.

“How is your relationship with Grace, Simon?”

He gave a sad smile and shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t have a relationship with Grace. She gave me another chance at life and I told everyone about all the messed up stuff I did to her. We haven’t spoken or seen each other in the weeks that I’ve been out of the hospital.”

“I read about that. It was really big of both of you to make the decisions that you made…”

“This isn’t about Grace,” Simon said. He began typing on one of his other laptops. “I’m not going to do that this time, Dr. Richard. I’m trying to think about treatment, but in a way that appeals to people more like me. I’m not one to sit in a room and talk about my feelings. You know how much I hate that. I AM one to sit in MY room, for hours, playing the same computer video game for weeks. As a kid, I used to create these figures. I have a ton of them at home. More recently, I’ve done robots…” Simon sounded all over the place, but Dr. Richard didn’t interrupt him. “In most games, there is a specific goal, and people tend to think… This isn’t anything that I’m used to, but the principle is fine. I want people to be able to feel like they are walking into their own worlds, and that their adventures are things that they can navigate to practice existing in the world. To get things out of their system that they should never do here, or to give them options that their minds might not automatically compose! You’re a therapist… do you think this sounds stupid or crazy or… just impossible?”

“It sounds like you’re enjoying your work and exploring more empathetic aspects of your talents. This project could be extremely good for you.”

“Okay, yeah, sure. But… do you think it would work? Do you think it would help somebody?”

“Are you making this to help other people or to get better at helping yourself?”

“DO YOU THINK IT WOULD DO EITHER?”

“There’s not enough information for me to know if it will help other people, but I think it’s already helping you and that’s the most important thing that you need to focus on. Getting better, yourself.” That was all that Simon needed to become completely obsessed with his project.

So, what happened was that he began to work on it a lot and neglect certain things he needed to do during his recovery. His father had to remind him and sometimes try to physically force him to let him check his healing, cleaning wounds, and getting ready to go have bloodwork done, etc. He was extremely irritable whenever Mr. Laurent would interrupt his work. Whenever it was more pressing medical concerns, Simon got a call from Grace.

“Hey,” she’d say casually. He’d smile immediately when he heard her voice, then frown, because he knew it meant that his dad had bothered her.

“Grace… I don’t know WHAT he’s said this time, but you need to stop doing this. How does he manage to even get to call you anyway?”

“Hazel gave him her phone number for emergencies. That is now the backup phone. Had to get her another. She’s too damn friendly, but I’ll never discourage her. She’s gotta be herself, you know. Listen. So… I’m told that you need to have an angiography. I looked it up and sounds like you gotta do this thing, and yet… Your dad can’t get you to stop playing video games?”

“No! That’s not what’s happening at all! I’m working and he just barges in! Doesn’t even knock. He’s obnoxious.”

“Orrr… you’re tired of being on somebody else’s timetable, and that’s understandable, but whenever I was in the institution, I was constantly on a formatted schedule that I had no control over. It was one of the downsides of getting myself in there. One of your downsides of starting fights that get you stabbed is doing whatever you’ve gotta do when you’ve gotta do it to get better. I’m gonna be pissed if your dad calls Hazel again because you’re acting like a child.”

“It won’t happen again.”

“Thank you. Have a good day.”

That was the last time he was cantankerous with his dad about appointments. He just had to suck it up and go when it was time. He had to listen, because he knew Mr. Laurent wouldn’t hesitate to bother Grace, as unfair as that was. Simon was furious that his dad did this. He called it harassment. Mr. Laurent didn’t seem to mind, even when Simon yelled aggressively about how Grace was always the person picking up his pieces when they were kids and he’s coming to a better understanding of how unfair that was to both of them, plus he has Samantha back and he is guilty about imposing on Grace. He sent her a message asking her to promise not to come running again for his father calling but agrees for her sake that if a real emergency comes up that she’s welcome to check in on him. She never replied, so he didn’t know if it was sent and he didn’t want to keep bothering her in her inbox. So, the months passed and he did what his father needed him to do to get better. Whenever he was able, he travelled back home, taking Samantha with him.

He was working full time and enrolled back in school part time, at a less prestigious college, but one that was comfortable for him, at this point. He still got up to MIT to see Professor Hughes and talk engineering with her. She was impressed by how well he seemed to be doing, but she would never tell him that. And he never missed an appointment with his therapist, or his physician. For the most part, he recovered. There was a little lasting damage that he would have to deal with, such as multiple surgeries to correct various problems connected to disrupting the body’s normal with multiple stab wounds, but it was manageable and he was… feeling okay. Whenever he wasn’t, he had better ways of coping than before, most of the time. Every now and then, he’d definitely lose it and break things and rage… but… it wasn’t as frequent as it used to be, so he at least felt good about that much.

Plus, he got to see Grace be SO happy with Hazel online and he wasn’t blocked from everything, so anytime anyone tried to give her trouble about him, he was able to step in and take whatever blows that they tried to throw her way. That was another thing… He had been diligently sticking to the truth about her, no matter what people asked or how guilty, ashamed, weak, cowardly, or whatever else these things made him feel. He went onto shows and conducted interviews and made videos to counter any negative feedback that Grace had ever done anything wrong. “Besides being a neglected kid with some issues related to that, Grace was a really good friend and I was a bad friend to her. Turned out my neglect issues were much deeper and I made her suffer for that, but she shouldn’t have to anymore.”

Grace woke up with the sun most mornings. After she and Hazel returned to New York, it occurred to her that they had barely started living there before their little adventure in Mass. SO, they immediately made certain to try to start setting their routines and building their home style. Hazel’s room was the fanciest room she had ever had, excluding the chambers at the Monroe Estate. Grace let her have her own TV in her room, with a system that she had access to most of the apps, several games, and her favorite movies and shows. There was a housewarming plant that Grace’s friend had bought for Hazel whenever she moved in (and had to come over to look after whenever they were out), and that was in Hazel’s room, right by the window, for its sunshine.

Hazel had gotten to the point where she was no longer sure if she wanted to hold on to having a leaf in her hair, so Grace bought her some cute hair accessories that looked like leaves - hair clips, headbands and stuff… and if Hazel ever wanted to stop, she had options, to sort of keep with her tradition that was sort of a large part of the identity she had carved out for herself. Now, though, she had a changing identity.

She was Grace’s daughter and she didn’t know if keeping a leaf meant that she was holding on to a parent or parents that abandoned her when she had one who had fought to call her her own right in front of her. The last thing she wanted to do was possibly hurt Grace’s feelings, and she knew that Grace probably wouldn’t tell her if she did. She would just smile and make her feel good and meditate later or something. Hazel kept the hair leaf, for now.

The room had bookshelves with Hazel’s favorite books, toys, and keepsakes, her jewelry rack and a very large quartz crystal sphere that Grace bought her “for good energy” whenever she was at her last home. It sat on a little sphere holder and Hazel generally set her singing Tuba right near it, whenever she wasn’t carrying it with her or sleeping with it. There was a framed photo of the Monroe trio - her, Grace and GlamMother, on her wall, as well as a mirror with her name on a plaque against its expensive wood. All of the furniture was well made and personalized in some way.

For instance, her dresser had a cartoon stylized version of her smiling face on the sides and her name in lights across the top of the vanity. The colors of the room were hazel, ivory and green, and her headboard had a turtle magnificently carved into it. Grace got her the same type of products that she purchased herself. She still used the same natural beauty brands that she swore by as an influencer (and recently was reconnected with many of them) including a rebirth campaign for her own line of products. It really was like rebirth, but this time, she was living on her own conditions. She also was building for her daughter, as well, but in a different way than what her mother did. She would always ask Hazel her opinion of things, what she wanted to do, if she liked or approved of certain things that she wanted to do for her. The emblem on Grace’s products would be from a drawing that Hazel did of Grace as a tree, sitting in a lotus position, her hair as the leaves and Hazel falling from the tree into her outstretched arms. It was a pretty good drawing for a 10 year old, and Grace wanted it to stay just as it was for their emblem.

Grace made meal prep for if Hazel had turtle days. Half the time, Grace wound up throwing the greens into a smoothie, because Hazel was fine for the most part. But, she would keep up this practice of being prepared for a long time.

She generally saw Hazel off to school herself, instead of putting her into a car with a driver or getting her to learn public transportation like she often saw kids doing while she was out and about in the city for her first few years. She wanted Hazel to be as protected and seen as she could without being that over sheltering type of mom that she sometimes felt like she was probably being. But, Hazel liked the attention. It was nice to have somebody always having her back and ensuring her safety. It was nice always having someone waiting for you when you step out into the world, to guide you back home.

They’d had most of the summer to settle in and the new school year was Hazel’s favorite EVER. She was finally going to be somewhere that she was getting herself to believe wouldn’t be temporary… she might actually make friends! She met a couple of people that were really cool the first week - Lucy and Lindsay. They knew each other from before, but Lindsay had recognized her from the internet and invited her to sit with them at lunch. Lucy wasn’t allowed to get onto the internet, but Hazel noticed that she had a Tuba watch and they admitted that they both still watched/loved The Mighty Tuba and Her Musical Friends. Lindsay made fun of both of them, but it was in that way where Hazel could tell that she still liked them and was gonna be their friend. Hazel LOVED it and asked if she could invite them over soon for a tea party.

Of course she could. Grace rarely told Hazel no. If it was doable, safe, and harmed nobody, she didn’t see any reason to refuse her things that she was interested in. Plus, Mrs. Monroe had bought a very expensive tea party set for the girl that Grace had to get assembled on the balcony, because she had no idea where to put it in her place… which meant that the balcony basically belonged to Hazel’s tea set. Getting that woman to understand that her space in New York is nothing like the space that they had in California was almost impossible. Her mother couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t just seek out a bigger place. Like… just because I have my own money, I have to like… spend it like that?

But, Hazel began having her tea parties the second week of school. Mrs. Monroe wanted them to come to visit the weekend of the 23rd of August. “Mom. We’ve only been gone a couple of months. I told you that Hazel and I aren’t going to be coming back and forth like this.”

“I’m thinking if you catch a flight in the evening on Wednesday, Hazel won’t have to miss school that day. But, you definitely need to be here by Thursday evening’s dinner.”

“Ugh. Mom.”

“Grace, this is important.”

She sighed. “Fine. But you aren’t seeing us again before Christmas break. Hazel has limited days off and I have things planned for my 23rd.”

“Yes, well… Julia or Gabriel, or whatever the hell this assistant’s name is will send you the list of things you need to pack.”

“Why would I need to pack things?”

“We’re going to take you to Belize, since you won’t be here for your birthday.”

“Ugh… I wish I could argue with a free trip to Belize… okay, fine. Tell ADRIENNE to send me the information.”

“Adrienne? That doesn’t sound right… oh, really? Huh. She says that is indeed her name. Well, she’s sending it. We’ll see you soon.”

Grace hung up and stretched, sputtered air through her lips and peeked out at the girls at their tea parties, with their hats and some of Grace’s good tea. “Hey, Haze… GlamMother wants to see us next week, so I’ll be packing our stuff and I’ll email the school to get your work for Thursday and Friday in advance so we can turn it in on Wednesday.”

“Yes, Mother,” Hazel said in her tea party voice. “Will we be seeing Mr. Laurent and his Sad Sorry Son Simon when we go to California?”

“I’m not planning on it. Just giving you a heads up.” The three girls raised their teacups to Grace and she smiled and went back inside to pack. Simon was back in Cambridge, as far as she knew. She had seen him around online, but never hovered, so she couldn’t be sure. But… that week was the week of his birthday. She wondered if her mother had remembered that information, or if her body was simply falling back on old habits of the season by wanting to do something around this time of year. It was a very random time to Grace for them to just want to go to Belize… though, usually Simon’s birthday was paired up with hers. The significance of his actual birth date would only matter to Grace, not her parents, as the things that they did typically occurred AFTER August 22nd. Grace shook her head and opened the email of things to pack, so that she could prepare early.

The Monroes had some guests, Grace could tell. Not a lot, so she wondered if this was like some politician’s immediate family or what, and she resigned herself to the thought that if for one little second her mom even tried to give her hell about taking a flight today, instead of last night (to come in all late in the night and throw off hers AND Hazel’s sleep schedule), she would take her ass right on to her old bedroom and wait for the call to go to Belize. She didn’t play that mess with her mom anymore. Hazel ran to the door and tiptoed a little to use the knocker. There was a doorbell, but something about that fancy old knocker always intrigued her.

A butler opened the door and tried to take Grace’s bags, but she struggled with him, knowing that she could do it herself. “If you won’t let him, let me,” she heard a familiar voice say. Simon. She froze. He was standing. Obviously in good enough health. He was smiling, but it became worried when she stared at him. He put his hands up and she noted that he was in some type of… weird coat draped over his arms, instead of wearing it, that she could see the top of his apology tattoos, and that his parents were at the table with hers.

Her mother got up and rushed over, “Don’t be silly! It’s his job.” She collected Hazel into a tight hug and Grace still stood there, in the open door as Hazel rushed to the table, hand in hand with her grandmother, to pass hugs around. “Surprise!” Mrs. Monroe cheered. “It’s Simon’s birthday dinner… and a therapy idea thing…”

“Therapy told you to surprise me by bringing me here, with these people, under the guise of a free trip to Belize?” Grace asked, very much not okay with this.

“No. We’re having a sit down, between all of us, as adults, to settle everything once and for all. There’s cake!”

Hazel cheered, “Yayyy! Cake!”

Mrs. Monroe sighed and folded her arms, “My God, Grace, we really ARE going to Belize. Just sit down and enjoy dinner.” Grace pouted her way over to the seat next to Hazel. Simon returned to the one next to that one. His parents were across the table from them, and Mr. and Mrs. Monroe were on the opposite ends.

“This is messed up,” Grace muttered.

“All of us are messed up,” Mr. Monroe said. “It took a while for us to realize it. We spoke a few times when Simon was in the hospital, and we thought that eventually, both of you needed apologies from us and attempts for us to do better. Now, Grace… you had some things to say to Mr. Laurent the last time you were together…”

“I said it all. Nice to finally meet you, though,” she said to Mrs. Laurent, and her tone indicated that it wasn’t nice to meet her at all. Simon reached out and rubbed Grace on the back. She smiled a little at him, then looked confused and wondered why they were acting like nothing had ever happened. Then again, they had “gotten over” what did happen, and she guessed she was kinda touch starved, because it was nice to get physical comfort from somebody that wasn’t Hazel, for a change.

“Simon had many things to say to his parents before you arrived, too. Now that we’re all here, really… say whatever is on all of your minds. Simon… you’ve been sulking for two hours, but whenever Grace walked in, you immediately brightened up.” Simon blushed as Mr. Monroe made this extremely embarrassing announcement. Hazel cackled about it and ate a mouthful of potatoes.

Simon shook his head, “I’m not sure what you mean by saying this, Mr. Monroe.”

“Just that we never really discussed the night that you came back into our lives, wanting to see Grace and apologize… You didn’t actually apologize until a while later and… we’re all curious about the journeys it took to get from where you were to…”

“No, Dad.” Grace shook her head. “No. Simon and I used to be best friends. I loved him. There was nobody in the world more important to me. When we broke, I broke. You don’t get to just have reflection on what led us all here, to possible health and contentment. Just… No. Where is the cake? I’m having some on the terrace. You want in, Si?” His eyes widened and he got up to follow her. The butler was bringing out the cake, and she took the whole tray. “Momma’s got you, Haze,” she said without breaking her stride. She went outside and Simon smiled as she set the cake down. “Cut my baby a piece of cake. I’ll get her dish.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Grace rolled her eyes at everybody in the room, grabbed Hazel’s desert plate and the bottle of wine from the table. She went back out and Simon was ready with Hazel’s slice. Whenever Grace gave it to her, she said, “I’ll be right out there if you need me.” Grace was… tired. She had been on a long flight, and to be faced with the Laurents AND her parents? And to have them acting like this was just okay to spring on someone? “They’re still messing up, but I guess at least they’re trying,” she glanced around. “I didn’t get glasses.” She frowned.

“S’ok. I don’t drink.”

She smiled and said, “Neither do I, but remember whenever we were 14 and we said that we’d have our first drink together?”

“Yeah. We said on your 21st birthday.” He smiled and she felt warm in his gaze. She set the bottle down. “At any rate, they don’t need any wine. They’re being weird enough.”

“RIGHT?” Grace and Simon laughed awkwardly. “To be honest, I think that they realized that the only way to get me here was to hide their intentions from me. I wouldn’t have showed up if they had told me that they wanted to have dinner with your family.”

“Funny… I wouldn’t have come if they hadn’t told me, “Grace will be here for your birthday,” Simon admitted and leaned on the balcony rail. “All I wanted was to see you again. It’s all I could think about all month.”

“You’ve known about this all month? My mom called me last week!” She leaned next to him, her back against the rail, so that she could keep an eye on Hazel. For a moment, she had a flashback of the last time that they were out here together. The pain stung, but there was a numbness there… like that part of her that hurt was more like a limb that fell to sleep. “Hazel is the same age as we were when we met. I’ve been so paranoid about her running into trouble because I’m not present enough…”

“Is that what you think us meeting was? You running into trouble?” Simon asked. He didn’t seem offended, like he might have normally been. Just… curious.

“Don’t you think so? For both of us…”

He frowned and looked out at the Monroe yard. “I think that the people who messed up the most are all surrounding your kid right now.”

“She loves them, though. I want her to have a good relationship with them. Not just because I didn’t, but because they’re the only grandparents she has.”

“Yeah, well… at the moment, MY parents are there too…” Grace stood up and folded her arms, looking at Hazel. Her parents had arranged for her and Simon to have their first joint birthday celebration since they were 16, and even arranged a sit down with the Laurents about everything that went wrong… Simon was also thinking about how messed up this was, because he added to her thoughts, “I feel weird about our parents finally talking, when we ourselves have finally gotten to good places in our lives and development.”

“I think it’s… A good thing, but just for them. For me… I think that the best thing has been that I survived. I thought that I was gonna die after everything. Nothing felt real. My whole life was just staring into nothingness and crying. I really did become the void…”

“No. You were NEVER that!” Simon said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “You always mattered. I was just too toxic to see that. The best thing for me has been that I realized how wrong I was…” Grace threw her arms around his neck and Simon relaxed in her arms and held her close. Every time was like the first time, but this was DIFFERENT different. This was the first hug that they had in some time and maybe even the first genuine one that they’ve had. Simon was caught up in his emotions, but quickly tried to keep them in check, “Wanna grab the kid and get outta here?” Simon asked, looking at her. They were still in the hug, but let some space in between their bodies.

Grace chuckled, “I mean… you know that my perfect birthday celebration is lowkey, with the closest people to me, some dogs and a walk around the creek. But, it’s not MY birthday.”

Simon turned and leaned back on the terrace this time, “If I had just done that with you for our 16th, things could have gone very differently.”

“I think things would have eventually gone wrong anyway. We were both… beyond our own help. You seem fine now, though.”

“I’m not fine, but I’m better.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Grab the cake, I’ll grab the kid,” she said with a smile. Simon obeyed, as she went inside and he followed. “Haze, grab your bag. We’re headed out.

“Headed out?” Mrs. Monroe asked. “To where?”

“Simon and I are taking Hazel to our old stomping grounds.” Hazel jumped up excited. All four of the parents exchanged worried looks, which Grace ignored and put an arm around Hazel to guide her towards the door. “Hopefully… the rest of you will get whatever you need out of… this…” They checked out early, giving their parents time to sort through their guilt.

The trio left the mansion, all three laughing and talking. Hazel about how she had heard so much about their adventures, though Simon was certain she only heard the sweet and not the… other stuff. He was just glad that Grace was willing to spend time with him again. It was the best birthday present he could’ve gotten. He didn’t deserve it, but he was going to be grateful.

Neither Simon or Grace had revisited much of their old places, so they wound up spending time well into the night taking Hazel to their childhood spots from when they were her age. Eventually she got so sleepy that she dozed off on the train and Simon had to carry her around. Grace told him that she could do it (she was pretty practiced in it and Hazel was a tall 10), with Simon still technically being in recovery for his injuries, but she guessed that his pride was still stubborn, because he insisted.

They caught a cab back to the mansion, he put Hazel to bed, and Grace offered to walk him out. “Your parents have us in the guest house,” he said.

“Excuse you?”

“We’re going to Belize… They didn’t tell you that EITHER?”

“What’re they trying to do? Get us back together??” She joked.

He laughed, “Like you’d ever do that. You didn’t want me the first time.”

“That’s not true. I actually liked you way more than you liked me, because my feelings were selfless and pure.” He stared at his hands and nodded. She sat down in front of the front door and he sat next to her. “I wasn’t kidding whenever I’d say that I had the perfect relationship already, or whatever the hell I said that day. I can’t remember word for word, but I remember that all the words were true.”

“Yeah… If only I had been better.”

“Well… You said earlier that you’re better now.”

“Yeah…” He turned to look at her and she smiled and took his hand into hers.

“We don’t have to talk about it. We can just live in it,” she said. That was always how she had been about them. No questions or comments about their feelings for each other, titles, etc. They were together and enjoying each other’s company again. The rest of the details were background noise. No things were not fine, and she didn’t know if things would ever be fine between them, considering the stuff that happened back then. But… things were better.

#If They Didn't Get on the Train #AU Infinity Train #Infinity Train #Nesha Fanfiction #Infinity Train Fanfiction #fics

11 notes · View notes

surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

Text

Survey #311

“somebody told me you had a boyfriend who looked like a girlfriend that i had in february of last year.”

What is something that is so awful it gives you pain in your teeth? Extremely sweet and/or cold treats. What is something you would like to teach someone? I love educating people about meerkats, snakes, tarantulas, opossums... lots of animals. What is something people tend to come to you about? For me to take pictures for them. What is something you would be willing to gamble? I don't mess with that. What's something you're absolutely 100% sure about yourself? Uhhh that I really like creating things and just being artistic. How often do you self-reflect? Probably too much, really. When was the last time you realized that you were the problem, if ever? I feel like a problem now, still living with and financially depending on my mom. If applicable, what's the furthest you've traveled because of a hobby? Ha, Mom and I got lost driving one day looking for roadkill for me to photograph (that will always feel weird saying) and wound up pretty far north from home, kinda close to Virginia. It was a fun afternoon/evening. What are some sights around the world you would like to see some day? I'm honestly not crazy about pursuing ancient architecture, but I'd take the opportunity for some if I could, especially in Egypt. OH! Venice would be cool, and whatever that city is with the umbrella "ceiling" layer outside. Do you have souvenirs from other countries? If so, what and from where? No. Apart from sleeping, name something you enjoy doing in bed: Sit on my laptop or read. Do you believe in ghosts? Yeah, or at least something of the sort. Do you stay friends with your exes? Girt and I are close friends, while the others I don't have contact with. Not because we're on bad terms (I may be w/ Jason, but I think our last meeting was freeing for both of us and distilled any remaining tension), we just don't talk. Have you ever been awake for 48 hours straight? Pretty sure no, I'd crash. Do you have a secret that no one knows but you? One or two. Do you hate the person you fell hardest for? No. How many pregnant people do you know? Good Lord, a lot. People are bored in quarantine apparently lmao. Who was the last person to play with your hair? Myself, outta boredom, kinda just twirling it. Have you ever seen the inside of a computer? Yeah. ^If yes, can you name any of the components? I could probably identify the motherboard. If you could get a new phone right now, would you/which kind? I would. Idk what kind, though; I'm not very familiar with what's up-to-date. Have you ever cut your own hair? No. If you had the chance, would you start your life entirely over? No. How old is the eldest member of your family? I don't know really, given both pairs of my grandparents are dead. Probably some aunt or uncle on Mom's side. I don't remember their birth order. Do you drink the milk from the bowl after you eat all the cereal? No, it grosses me out for whatever reason. UNLESS it's after a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, then I'll drink it. Do you know anybody who has had an online relationship? Yeah, me, and some others. One thing that your guy best friend doesn't like about you: He's never told me about something he doesn't like, so I can't speak for him. How about your girl best friend? Ummm you'd have to ask her, too. Do you loan your friends money? *recites the usual financial woe story* Are you taller than your siblings? No. Do you have “photoshoots” with your friends/family members? Definitely not regularly by any means. Are you generous? If you ignore monetary generosity for obvious reasons, I think I am in other ways. Are you afraid of lizards? No no no, I love those tiny lil dinosaur boiz and gorls!!!!! :''') Ahhh, I want a tegu especially one day. How legible is your signature? It's perfectly legible, imo. How hot are your neighbors? I don't even know my neighbors. Well, Mom's spoken to the woman to our left more than once if they were both outside, but I know she's an older woman whose appearance I never really noted, but regardless, I know I wasn't attracted to her. Do you play Pokemon Go? If so, what level are you and who's your buddy? Yeah, I can finally play it regularly since they began offering a daily box with a few items in it, like the balls. I'm not checking, but I think I'm like... around 23? My buddy is Charmeleon because I love love loooove that evolution line and absolutely want a Charizard ASAP. :') What's the most daring thing you have ever done? I guess that would be the story about how I challenged my rather intense fear of fair rides that can trouble the stomach by going on whatever the thing's called where you slowly go very high up and then drop down abruptly. Yeah yeah yeah, I was safe the whole time, but it was daring by my standards, haha. Have you ever thought about getting your nose pierced? It's been pierced twice already; the first time it closed while I was in the psych hospital and had to take it out, and the second one I just gave up with it after I kept losing them in my sleep and they just fell into the fucking void or something because I could never find them come morning. I eventually had none left to replace those I'd lost. And yes, I wore the curved types, they still just came out somehow???? Probably didn't help that I sleep like, ON my face sometimes, but... lol. I've been thinking of doing it one more time, but this time with a hoop ring. Nostril piercings are just really cute to me. Has someone of the opposite sex ever told you that you were sexy? Somehow. Are you friends with your best friend’s boyfriend or girlfriend? She's single. Do you have tan lines? HA. Absolutely not. Not even in the summer. Have you ever kissed anyone with a lip piercing? Yeah, he had snake bites. Has anyone told you they were in love with you? Yeah. Have you ever seen a bald eagle in person? Yes. Have you ever been vomited on? What about in vice versa? Oh my fucking god no, don't even make me imagine it. What is one family member you wish you were closer to? My sisters. When and where did you lose your virginity? Since then, what was the longest time you've ever gone without sex? I dunno, his bed or mine when I was maybe like 16 or 17. Been many years. What is your biggest fear about making a total commitment to someone? That I'll experience heartbreak again. Do you think that your life is exciting enough to be made into a movie? Do you think anybody would actually enjoy it if it were a movie? lol fuuuuck no If you were the opposite sex, would you be attracted to you? I don't know? If I was a different person, I'd obviously have unique tastes, too. Have you ever walked around your house naked? Oh no, I'm way too uncomf for that. Do you prefer profile pictures of you by yourself or with someone else? Me by myself. Did it bother you to find out that Santa, the Easter Bunny, and the Toothfairy were not real? Not really, no. I'd been suspicious about it for a long time anyway. Is there a food that you only recently started to like? If so, what is it and when did you start liking it? How often do you try again foods you don't like to see if your tastes have changed? Hm... I'm unsure about "recently." I'm not very adventurous with food at all, so the answer for the last part is not often at all. Who would you NOT want to read the surveys you've posted on here? What would most likely happen if they did read it? Is there anyone you actually wish would read your survey answers but doesn't? Probably my therapist lmaoo. It'd spark some concern, especially regarding my PTSD, for him to be able to see "wow, she is deeply scarred." I don't really "wish" anyone else would read them, other than the occasional answer I wish He Who Shall Not Be Named could hear. Do you watch Glee? If so, which song do you want to hear on there that they have not yet done? If not, which TV show do you think has the best soundtrack? I don't watch it. The answer is obviously Supernatural, like good good shit right thar. Do you think you would be able to pull off a crime perfectly, without being caught? What about other lies? For example, cheating on your partner without getting caught? Would you be able to get away with it? Ha, hell no. I'm way too clumsy in more ways than physical and would overlook so many details. And I wouldn't WANT to get away with cheating on my partner, thanks. Do you know anyone who has divorced and remarried the same person? What do you/would you think of someone who does that? I don't think I do, and it's not really my business, but I'd have silent doubts, probably, depending on why they split. Do you say goodnight to anybody before you go to bed? If so, does it feel weird if you go to bed without saying it to them? I say goodnight to my snake Venus; even if she's in her hide, I say it when I walk past her terrarium. It probably wouldn't feel weird not to, but I want to, even though she can't even hear me lmao. How do you react when you're scared? Do you scream, jump, cover your eyes, etc.? I am VERY jumpy, tend to gasp easily, and sometimes scream if I'm seriously scared. Who is the best storyteller you know? What do you find best about their storytelling? Is there an interesting story of theirs you'd like to share? I don't know. Do you strongly dislike (or even hate) any bands or musical artists? If so, what caused such a strong negative emotion towards them? Not for purely their music, that's just stupid, but I could certainly dislike artists for what they do as people. For example, I haven't looked into it whatsoever, so it could be a load of bull, but I know Manson recently had some sexual misconduct or assault allegations rise against him, and honestly, I'd believe it. He's one of my favorite artists (emphasis on the "art"), but definitely not high on my list of favorite people and keeps doing things that are making me lose more and more respect for him. Then there's Otep... again, one of my favorite musical artists. I agree with a good handful of her values, but she is nevertheless an absolute holier-than-thou, intolerant bitch. I don't like her as a person. Do your parents have any collections? If so, what do you think of those collections? Dad collects Cleveland Browns and Carolina Hurricanes stuff; it's all over his "mancave." I don't have an opinion on them. Do you have a favourite role of Johnny Depp's? If you don't like him, what is your favourite role of an actor you like? I'm not familiar enough with all his acting roles for this, but I know he's incredibly good at what he does. If you were in a competition to win your dream prize, and you were allowed to decide what the competition would be (trivia about your favourite band, a foot race, singing, etc.) , what would you choose and why? Uhhhh maybe facts about meerkats? Reason being it's something I'm honestly very knowledgeable about. What is your least favourite thing about the English language? Are there any other languages you prefer besides English? It breaks its own "rules" ALL the time. If I was fluent in German, then I might actually prefer it. There are many parts to the German language that make it very precise and clear what and whom you are addressing (ex., there are two different "you"s for singular and plural usage); the only real downside I see to German is the sentence structure is odd, but then again, I mean, it does encourage active listening to get all the parts of a sentence you need to understand what is being said. Would you be upset if a long-term partner confessed that they had committed a serious crime before you met? How do you think it would affect your relationship? Hm. I guess it would depend on the crime? I sure wouldn't be happy hearing they committed an as you said serious crime, but I'd have to consider if there were other red flags for danger going on, again, if it wasn't massive in my eyes. Do you enjoy watching the special features found on most DVDs? What do you usually enjoy more: the deleted scenes, the bloopers, the audio commentary, or the behind-the-scenes footage? I have to be seriously into whatever I'm watching to explore these. I do love me some bloopers, though. Was there something you were afraid of as a child that just seems silly to you now? I had that usual "monster (or in my case, skeleton) in the closet" fear. Have you ever had a crush but then found out he’s gay? Almost positive my puppydog-love middle school bf actually is gay. I also had a crush on a closeted gay guy for a little bit that same school year. Nowadays he is so open about his sexuality and even does drag, and he's great at it! It's wonderful seeing how far he's come in his confidence. Would you ever be a porn star? What'd your name be? Oh no, hunny. Does blood make you squeamish? No. What's your favorite Pokemon? Ninetales. <3 I also have a very soft spot for Charmander, though. What was the last event to cause you any sort of heartache? My older sister got in a wreck yesterday because some impatient bitch ran a red light. She's fine but did break her clavicle and is going to be using a sling for probably a few months. It was definitely upsetting to hear about. What do you do when you like someone? I tend to get very shy around them, more than I naturally am, and smile a lot. I try to stay in contact with the person, and it's maybe a 60/40 chance I'll wait for them to make the move versus me, but I've done it. Do you mind if people just show up at your house unannounced? YEAH. Especially as someone who needs to mentally prepare for company, don't do this. Do you enjoy rain? To a degree. If it hangs around too long, it affects my depression. I LOVE going to sleep to rain pattering on the window, though. You love Jesus, yes? I don't believe he was a bad person; quite the opposite, actually, but I don't "love" him. I won't go too deep into why just because I'm not in the mood to offend people today lmao. Who’s your favorite person in the whole world? My mom. She's my rock. How many different beverages have you had in the last 24 hours? Just water and Mountain Lightning (a Mountain Dew ripoff for us poor folk, haha). Oh wait, I did have a meal replacement shake for lunch yesterday, I think? Or that might have been the day before... How many brothers does your father have? None, unless I've seriously forgotten him having one. He only has a sister, to my knowledge. What kind of camera do you use? I have a Canon EOS Rebel T6. If you could change you name, what would you change it to? I wouldn't. 25 years with a name I quite like has worked out fine. What was the last song you listened to in the car? Uhhh it was "Drugs" by Mother Mother, I think. Are you the youngest, oldest, middle, or only child? I'm the middle child between my parents. What's the best thing about the place you currently live? Hm. I would say for practicality's sake that we're very close to pretty much everything, but seeing as I enjoy long car rides... With that in mind, I'd say who our landlord is. She's a very close family friend who is very understanding of our financial position, so pretty forgiving with some things. Do you eat breakfast daily? Yessss, I need breakfast to start my day off. Can you hear anyone talking right now? No, just singing. I'm listening to Motionless In White's cover of "Somebody Told Me" by The Killers. What's your favorite flavor of ramen? I solely enjoy the spicy pork bowl by Yakisoba. I've never had another I've liked. I lived off that shit in the apartment. I guess what they say about college kids is true, haha. Never realized that. When was the last time you had a bowl of soup? What flavor? Back when I got my snake eyes tongue piercing, I tried vegetable soup only to find I didn't like it anymore. Do you have any tinned foods in your cupboard at the moment? Yeah, lots. I couldn't name 'em all, besides like, diced pineapple, corn, and beans. We always have those. What was the last food item that you tried for the first time? On Thanksgiving, I was actually brave with food for once and tried that sweet potato dish that's topped with marshmallow, and it was okay. I never liked sweet potato before, and while I couldn't eat a lot of it, it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Does anyone in your family have green eyes? No. What was the name of your first ever pet? I was born into my family with a beautiful collie named Trigger, but I have zero recollection of her because she passed away from old age when I was very young. My first personal pet was either my guinea pig Squeak or Chinese water dragon Shadow (no, I have no idea why I named a green lizard that); I can't remember who came first. I adored them both. I feel so bad looking back though, I was so uninformed on how to properly care for a water dragon that she (or he, we were never sure) was, as far as correct husbandry goes, horribly taken care of and stunted from having a tank too small. I consider myself lucky she seemed to really trust me and loved being held, even sleeping on me, and she did live out her full lifespan. I was lucky; please, please, never adopt a reptile until you are properly educated on their unique care. Where was the last place you went out for lunch? What did you order? Mom bought me McDonald's a few days back because I was really craving it. I had a double cheeseburger and for once large fries, because that's what I was seriously wanting. I usually get small or medium. Where was the last place you went for an evening meal? What did you order? I feel bad and selfish for breaking my own "stay the fuck home but for emergencies" rule, but my mom, one of my sisters, and I went out to the Cheesecake Factory for my birthday. I think I ate a chicken sandwich with Chipotle sauce? I actually don't remember for sure. I do however remember the cheesecake I got: some cinnamon swirl one that was fucking glorious. Oh yeah, and we had an appetizer of these pretzel ball things dipped in fondue. I ate waaaay too much, but it was a special occasion, so whatever. Have you Googled anything today? What? I ensured I spelled "clavicle" correctly. Yaaaay, I did. What do you like to eat for breakfast these days? Special K cereal, a sandwich, sometimes those pancake & sausage on a stick things I mentioned at some point in the last survey I think, or a Jimmy Dean breakfast bowl. Maybe other stuff I'm just not thinking of. Is anyone in your family a nurse? No, but I have family in the medical field. Do you like to wear lipstick? What colors do you think suit you best? Not really, no, but I will sometimes for pictures. It smudges too easily yet is also hard and annoying to get off. I only really wear black. Who was the last person to recommend a book to you? My therapist recommended a book for the whole PHP group, but I can't remember what it was. Something self-care related. Who was the last person to tease or joke around with you, in a friendly way? I wouldn't be surprised if it was Tobey, the "family friend" I mention a lot. She probably said something technically rude that she thought was an appropriate joke. Is there a jar of peanut butter in your house? Yeah, always. Does anyone you know own a tabby cat? How about a cocker spaniel? Tabbies are very common, so yes. I don't think I know anyone with a pure cocker spaniel, but my late dog's mother was one. Do you have blinds or curtains in your bedroom? What colour are they? I have those slanted blinds that you can close by pushing them upwards or downwards with a stick thing. They're white. What was the last beverage you tried for the first time? Some form of juice I wasn't a fan of. Orange and peach, I think? Who was the last person that said you were beautiful? I think a friend on Facebook when I changed my profile picture. Is/are your pet(s) fixed? My cat is neutered, but obviously my ball python isn't. Roman would mark the house like crazy before we got him fixed... but even if he didn't, we still would have done it. Please make spaying/neutering your cats and dogs a financial investment priority. If you do the research, you would marvel over the "damage" especially one fertile cat can cause. Hell, my childhood experience with cats is enough proof of that.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''somebody told me'' by motionless in white

4 notes · View notes

delightfulstarlightparadise · 4 years ago

Text

Imagine Reader/Katsuki Bakugo

It has been a long time since I last watched or read BNHA but I have found myself really wanting to write some of these because of tiktok. So, please, forgive me if I take some stuff out of the anime context. Also, there has been a long time since I last wrote something in English. Forgive me if I make some mistakes.

Context: You are a new student in class, your quirk is regenerating (just like Deadpool) underneath the school chlothes you always wear a special long sleaved shirt with turtleneck that fully covers your body, because it is full of scars from the regeneration.

Your personality is a defiant one.

From enemies to lovers kind of fic

Everyone is wondering where did you come from in the middle of a semester, but you can't reveal this secret. You have been keeping it to yourself and everytime people try to approach you, you make up an excuse to quickly leave.

Until this day, in which your P.E. class demands you to go through a very dangerous obstacle course. Everyone has done it and you are the last one. Nobody has ever seen your quirk in action so everybody is anxious to see how you go. Bakugo pretends not to be interested, but he watches you out of the corner of his eyes.

Aizawa approaches you and tells you not to disappoint him. You nod and go ahead. Nobody can barely see your movements, you are too fast for any of the obstacles to hit you, even the big logs that hit most of the students. "So fast!" you can hear Denki saying while you hop from obstacle to obstacle. That is how you learned to be, because using your quirk is just a last resource to you, once it always leaves you scars.

In the las obstacle you notice that you miscalculated and a log is going to hit you right in the chest. You hear everybody screaming as you hug the log and let it take you with its balance. You can feel your insides crush and spit some blood on top of it.

Iida and Midorya try to hush to help you but Aisawa stops them from doing it. It seems like he knows your quirk (of course, he is the teacher... or is there something else to it?)

Even Bakugo is now watching deeply impressed as you hop on top of the log and backflips from it to the finish line. Your uniform is kind of wrecked but your blouse is intact, so is your chest. "Wooooooow!!!!" You hear them screaming as you wipe the blood from your mouth. Momo, Mina, Sero and Denki run towards you, excited to hear how the hell did you do that, Midoriya comes through the middle of them telling you that you NEED to tell him about your quirk, he has a notebook in hands. The others are clapping. Except for Bakugo, he has crossed his arms over his chest and has a repressed angry look.

"What's up with that? That was not impressive at all."

"Ahn... you tied in time, bro" Kirishima answers.

You hear a big explosion, and somebody screaming "WHAT THE FUCK?!", everyone around you is pushed down to the sides and now the only view you have are those raging red eyes amongst the smoke coming towards you.

"I WANT A REMATCH, NOW!" He screams with a finger pointed right to your face.

You feel kind of impelled to accept, he is looking at you, chin up, as if he is better then you. Who the hell is this boy?

Actually the way he always acts like he is better then everyone else has already caught your attention in these recent days. You see how awfully he treats his friends, he is always so loud and curses all the time. Yeah, you definately don't like this guy.

You are about to say yes, but you feel Aizawa's cold look at you. Damn it!

"I am not interested." You answer, hitting his finger with a smack.

Bad choice. You can feel the heat coming from him increase as he seems ready to jump on top of you and blow you out of existence.

"BROOOO, calm down" Kirishima comes between you. "Aizawa is not diggin' it, bro."

Bakugo stares at you as if he is going to sunddely jump over Kirishima's head and kill you with his bare hands(he probably could, you can feel it), but you stare back at him and even show your teeth a little. He gets kind of impressed with it, but gets back to his angry expression. He turns to the side and goes away stomping his feet and almost literally exploding with rage.

"Hey, ahn... y/n... that was really amazing! Don't mind him, this is his way to show he was impressed" says Kirishima with the most friendly smile, before going after him.

"Kaachan is really that way you will get used to him." Midoriya says. You can feel he is ashamed.

"Who does that motherfucker thinks he is?" You say as the others around gasp.

"You don't let him hear you say that." Denki says in the thinniest voice.

You leave, also stomping your feet, that boy made you angry. Everybody stares, as they did not expect you to react like that.

...

A few days go by. Every time yours and Katsuki Bakugo's sight cross people can hear both of you growl.

You have been competing in every single activity you face: from who gets better grades to who arrives first for lunch.

There are romours going on about your quirk around the school. Some say you might have invincibility, others, that you have some sort of superspeed. No one is right. You are as misterious as when you arrived, but now people know that you really hate Bakugo. And he hates you back.

"I didn't think he could hate someone as much as he hates you." Kirishima says to Midoriya as they watch you and Bakugo have a desagreement on who arrived first at the vending machine.

"What? Kaachan doesn't hate me... was that how it looked like when he was picking on me?"

"That what it WOULD look like if you fought back." Tsuyu answers.

"Listen here, you brat, I was already choosing my drink, you can't just come and put your money ahead of me!" You say as you punch the vending machine.

"What did you just call me?! Anyways, you were TOO SLOW, I wouldn't wait." He smirks at you, pressing the number of the last Coke in the machine.

"This Coke is mine!" You answer, infuriated.

"There is some Pepsi, still."

"Son of a..."

You lean towards him to take the Coke from his hands. All of a sundden the can bursts and the drink spills all over your face as Bakugo laughs.

"Ok, it is all yours." He says, cleaning his hand in your already sticky uniform.

"Ok, that is it!" You say, and jump onto him, punching his face as you both fall on the floor.

"OH SHIT!" You hear someone scream as you punch Bakugo as hard as you can, alternating hands.

You hear people coming towards you, but you don't see them arrive, as Bakugo explodes you from off of him. You fly to the other side of the common room, falling on a table that breaks with the impact.

"I'M GONNA KILL YOU, ASSHOLE" you hear him screaming from the other side of the room.

You smell burnt meat. It is you, he hit you right on the chest, your shirt is ruined (if you are a female or wear a binder, it is not burned, don't worry, no tiddies out). There is a huge burn that goes from your chest to your chin. You stand up cracking your wrist and putting yourself in a fight pose.

"That is it, you fucker." you hear everyone gasp when they see the burnt slowly desappearing under a brand new skin layer. "You're dead."

You pick up a foot from the broken table and run towards Bakugou, he makes two explosions agressively on you, but you don't care. Half of your face and your hips get burned in a deep flesh wound and are quickly healed by your quirk. You hit him hard in the face with the wood. He bumps into the wall and falls sitten.

"What the fuck?!" He exclaims, watching you finish your healing process.

You are about to hit him once again, and he is about to explode you one more time, but nothing comes out of his hand and you feel the piece of wood being taken away from your hands.

"Ooooh, shit..." you hear the others saying and see them stepping away.

Aizawa is standing behind you, his eyes are furiously shaking and he is holding your piece of wood. You probably woke him up, as he is in full pijamas.

"Oh shit." You say slowly stepping away.

...

Being responsible for washing everyone's P.E. uniforms and cleaning the room for a whole month didn't sound like too much of a punishment for breaking the common room and almost killing a colleague. But... you had to do it with HIM.

"Are you gonna sweep or what?" You complain when you see he is barely doing something to clean the classroom.

"You are the one used to using a piece of wood" he says leaning against a desk you had just put in position.

"You will see where I am gonna put this piece of wood if you don't help" you answer putting the broom over your head in a threatening way.

"Let's see how many times I need to blow you up before you die!" He answers opening his hands wide besides his hips.

You are ready to start a fight when you remember Aizawa talking to you: "you should not be so fast in disappointing the last family you have." You put the broom down and sigh.

"Quitter." Bakugou says, leaning against the desk once more and putting his hands in his pockets.

"Aizawa is my uncle, you know." You say, getting back to swapping. "This is why I got to come to the academy in the half semester."

You notice he is shaken by the news, but he plays it cool.

"Why are you telling me that?" he says.

"Cause this is the only reason I don't beat your motherfucking ass." you answer.

"Ha, as if." he says smiling in a maniac way. "It took me 200 explosions to beat the shit out of Kirishima. Your quirk is similar to his in a certain way, there must be a limit. Of explosions you can take."

"I can do a whole lot of damage before my quirk starts to wear off." You answer, putting the broom aside. "But I tend to doge attacks, because..."

You open the shirt of your uniform, making Bakugo step back surprized, even more so when you open the zipper of your special suit. Bakugo's face turns from a bright red to a pale white as he lays eyes on your body full of scars. You have all kinds of them, big, small, one specially big that goes from your hip to the beginning of your neck.

"What the f..." he seems to swallow his mean words. "So... things leave scars on you."

"The more I use my quirk, the bigger is the possibility of leaving scars."

"I bet you get into lots of fights." he says, opening smile with the side of his lips.

"Those are mostly from the accident when my parents died." you say, head down with a frown.

Bakugo stares at you kind of embarassed, not knowing what to say. He takes a step fowark, slightly reaching to you.

Then, you start to laugh.

"I'm kidding, dumbass!!!" You say, bending foward, cleaning tears from your eyes. "Yeah, I get into a lot of fights."

"You... you..." Bakugou is startled, but also angry. He doesn't know how to react.

"You should see your face! You were totally soft over me."

"I WAS NOT SOFT!"

"You were totally soft!"

Bakugou threatens you with his hands wide open, but you keep laughing at him.

That is when the door opens.

You and Bakugo turn to see professor Mic, absolutely atonished. At first you both think he has gotten you about to start a fight, but then you realize, what it actually looks like. Your shirt is open, Bakugou's hands are aiming at your chest.

You both scream. Professor Mic also screams.

Part two here:

#bnha imagines #katsuki bakugo #bakugo imagine #bnha fanfic #bakugo fanfiction #bakugo and reader

26 notes · View notes

dantesinfcrno · 4 years ago

Photo

trigger warnings !! suicide, suicidal thoughts, drug use / overdose, body horror, death, blood, violence, self harm, abusive relationships. most importantly, bad writing!

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈 ：𝐇𝐘𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐀 .

frigidity, heartlessness ╱ the absence of love ╱ virgin mary, corrupted .

winter child with shards on its mouth –– the snow quivers before khione, goddess whose lips do not tremble. cataclysm upon birth, no life to be seen as monster opens its eyes. before words could be uttered, before a name could be given to beast, untamed, it knew of fate. worthless creature, undeserving of shedding a tear. void big enough to fill any mansion, all touch lost –– who would cradle an interrupted demon, a fallen angel? who would wipe the anguish that never created roots inside tiny body, broken?

( … )

one vivid memory: it sitting down in the floor a living room ( no house is ever the same: all empty in a pantheon of different ways ). it is invisible, as Father dreams of his own tales, as Mother unravels the world. no one holds it up. –––– galatea? –––– it calls for Her, voice too firm for a child, first words incisive ╱ poignant knife. She stares into its eyes, peering at the chaos She created –– and turns Her back.

( … )

verses wrote themselves against its skin, fairies would whisper secrets into its heart. before it could walk, small deity devoured books –– in search of a love he did not know of, this powerful feeling it could never obtain. the titans who gave birth to lucifer ╱ lilith, anew, could spare it no sweet nothings. the tutors brought in could not hold down treacherous creature, could not embrace it, could not understand it. oh, the gentle kiss that would break the curse. oh, the sweet princess that would awake humanity inside tainted guts. the choirs sang of redemption, absolution –– but they also snarled at child born with a target on its back, holy water falling at its feet. you were never meant to receive tenderness ; you shall not know what love entails. it all echoed inside this fortitude: melancholy the only tune beast ever knew ╱ maddening: to never be touched ; to never be loved without worship, without loathing.

( … )

poignant claws would drag themselves over a violin, and he interrogated the stars. who else, who else. can famine become savior? can ferocious teeth learn to taste another’s core without devouring it whole? i can try, i can try. boy, blizzard –– locking itself in the garden of eden, mortality discovered as fingers bleed, as thorns find home in the anatomy of god, interrupted. –––– you can be anything you desire, vessel. –––– serpent hisses, crawling up its core. –––– i choose to live. i choose to love all monsters, made out of darkness & concrete alike. –––– dante replies, half-smothered, half-breathing, apple tasting sanguine on his lips. ophidian smiles, knowing this end will be self-made. –––– you can’t be helped, child, you can’t be helped.

–––––– 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 . ––––––

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐈 ：𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐀 .

resentment, anger ╱ agape ╱ your presence soothes me .

to seize the adoration one was never deserving of: a sin, an addiction. bringer of nightmares, a king crowned with madness –– and all he wants is all he can never have, prince amongst commoners, crawling through cobbled streets in search of scraps. there is relief in the tender stares he receives from older women, insisting him to turn back and find home. i don’t have one, i never had one. bones of a boy, muscles of a boy, but he –– savage, feral, bleeding life into a world that despises him.

( … )

this is what he knows of love: he must give it, even when it hurts –– somebody must be willing to rip their own flash, gift it away, and remain lacking forever. with hate, he learns this: puncture your flesh in order to feed the mouths that bite your legs ; turn your head to receive double the punishment, as it might turn you palatable ( they all want to break you, and if you shatter prettily enough, you might find gilded dregs to store inside your ribs ) ; swallow what no one wants to hear & drown in it.

( … )

being made entirely of open wounds, there is no deity capable of dragging him back to the fiery pits that gifted him life ╱ gifted him curse. lucky vessel, so close to a heart of his own. he rips one off a deer ( unfortunate as all that cross his path ) ; does not recall his face as he becomes other. the horror of inevitability is the only beauty he knows of, as he undresses, carrying only skin & blood. summer child ╱ crooked teeth, crooked smile. eris lies underneath ophelia: sweet, poisoned honey. there is an empty space, and there is laughter by its side. lord shiva, this is all i have, this is all i am. is there any other way to love, but to turn into madness? dante’s shrines are always filled with silence –– but he still brings limbs, lungs, livers as offerings to friends, lovers, foes.

( … )

light quivers through the cracks –– through the smile always perched on his lips, meaningless. he embraces the world: atlas, knee-deep in dirt, bound to shackles rooted in tartarus. he bears the weight with joyous laughter, bullet-wound on his throat. unconditional love to all but himself. –––– this is how my salvation will come. –––– he mumbles, wine-drunk, licking aphrodite’s mouth. oracle, foolish in his hopefulness. –––– i will love, love, love, until the point of murder. i will love the unlovable ; and i won’t ask for anything in return. –––– as he kisses madness into a stranger’s lips, as his body becomes a one night miracle for those who need it most. –––– i can give, and give, and give, and you won’t hear my voice begging for anything else. –––– as he lays in a bed that is not his own, as he wraps his tongue against quickened pulse, as he becomes one with a galaxy that had long disowned him. dante holds the unknown in his arms, and promises to adore it ( sweet, inescapable destiny ╱ ouroboros: we therefore commit this body to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, beast to beast ).

–––––– 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐛. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟, 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 . ––––––

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐈𝐈 ：𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐄 .

withering hope, abandonment ╱ philautia ╱ unfading love .

there is a limit to what forsaken hands can do. dante has picked stars, reached burning celestial bodies, cut his palms while tending to flowers with more thorns than petals. maybe i will encounter the lacking piece ; maybe there is half a soul to be found. a possibility is all that drives him forward, as skies turn grey and greyer. death is served, and young piece of sunshine ╱ corrupted shard of blood moon refuses to take it. i will keep on living –– i refuse to pass, i will not become more ghost than i already am. he moves around life, life runs right through him –– a sword lodged below his collarbone, forcing him to cough up blood. he is not a memory anyone can have. dante thinks about his absence in a world that already feels much like nothing: everchanging figure with a thousand names, an opaque face, a hidden mouth.

( … )

merciless crow weighs heavily on his shoulder –– that, a haunting dante can’t run away from. he pledged the remnants of his tortured soul ; promised to bloom flowers inside of his guts ; swore he would not howl when the thorns slayed him. –––– how do i love without feeling it flow in my body, how do i love without receiving it in my bloodstream? –––– fallen next to thanatos, locked away in a luxurious bathroom, he wonders and wonders. foolish messenger, victim of hubris ╱ icarus, aware the sun would burn his wings, but taking the leap of faith & crashing, drowning in saltwater. –––– who am i to challenge the gods? –––– he murmured, anguish sorrow rising and falling in the rhythm of his chest. dante remembers rain falling endlessly –– but, most of all, he remembers silence. –––– oh, dear. i am alone, aren’t i? –––– he questions a ghost, tears rupturing his flesh. what he tried to hide meets sunlight in its last breaths. miserable boy, crestfallen human –– he discovers himself once he uncovers death. soothsayer full of shame, guts filled with medicine, wrists torn by ache. what prophecy could he utter with such a defiled existence? no one will come for him, is his last rational thought. no one will remember him. dante: nothing, no one, infinitesimal. –––– all i have tried to give is all i do not have. –––– the veil falls from his face and the earth quiets.

( … )

he wakes up, bittersweet taste lingering in his body. my bones have finally shattered, he muses, not entirely awake, i have nothing else to give. his tutor does not spend the night by the side of his hospital bed ( white, everything pearlescent, pristine, sickening ), and dante doesn’t expect his parents to come –– and they don’t. ordinary, meaningless existence. he should have passed to another realm, but he had vowed to keep on living. –––– fate is anything but forgiving. –––– is what he mumbles to a kind nurse: the one individual worried for him, but only because it is her job. he holds her by the wrist one day, mouth opening and then closing. can you stay with me? can you let me go? –––– thank you. –––– and there are no other words he is able of uttering throughout his stay. alone, is all he’ll ever be, no pink hues to enlighten his days. he notices his age in a file, wrong by two years, but does not say anything about it. who cares? who cares but you? do you at all?

( … )

his scars do not turn into bird wings. what should i fear, if not death, if not desolation? the torment of being devoured –– no, that is what he loves the most. in one of many nights ( lustful, adoring, fickle ), basile fast asleep by his side, dante’s fingertips caress exposed skin –– brutal tenderness, a blade he could never inflict upon himself. –––– i think i can only ever love whatever part of me when i find it mirrored in you, mon cher. –––– he confesses, obsidian irises shining. to hold on, to make room for fragile things, to fracture in the same crevices, even with leaden bones. –––– dragons and butterflies are one in the same, aren’t they? –––– dante whispers, cherry lips dragging across basile’s ears as emerald cradles carnelian closer, closer.

–––––– 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 . ––––––

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐕 ：𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 .

unfortunate attachment ╱ philia ╱ i have lost all .

grief supposedly works like this: denial ; anger ; bargain ; depression ; acceptance. dante has never fell into the latter –– there was not a day he felt his mother’s absence as an axiom. galatea died in his arms, no last breath redemption gifted to her only heir, but her number remains his emergency contact. perhaps–– this is the closest he will get to love: half-ghost, half-illusion ; one he can confess all his sins to ; one that will not reprimand him no more ; one hollow image ╱ sacrilegious saint he can pour his most selfish desires onto. once her body is laid five feet underground, dante kneels. –––– i would have done you a favour, mother, had i died before you.

( … )

dante’s dismay is always reminiscent of a forest, petrichor, and a bonfire put out during the night. galatea by his side, barely addressing his existence. miles deep into the woods, birds were singing once he heard mother, titaness, whimper. dante reached for her, cradled her, hugged her –– for the first time, for the first time, for the last time. intact arrows were lodged on her throat, on her chest. what could he do? –––– stay with me, please. –––– dante begged and begged, but galatea’s eyes were no more. trembling hand holding cold fingers, desperate cries as he forced himself to walk, to search for an exit he knew no longer existed. his feet were cursed with blisters once he found a small village, his cheeks marred by dried tears, his arms covered in matriarchal blood. catatonic emptiness –– and each new fracture of his soul was a new explosion, sharp, dangerous, lost. he remained by her side, acute desperation as the reality crashed upon him, a rogue wave. –––– come back to me. –––– as he curled his body next to hers. always freezing, you were always this cold anyway. –––– come back. you have to come back. –––– as he clung to her limbs, as his eyes sunk in sorrow. does this pain have a name?

( … )

poppy’s empty room and the vacant space left by galatea were one in the same. dante lingered around her bed, head throbbing –– grief never leaves, it only evolves into smothering shadow. dante places a small bouquet atop her pillows, mumbles a prayer in a faint voice. –––– i never had much. –––– he whispers, and hopes poppy can hear him, feel him. –––– but i had you. and i will find you, baby girl. i promise i will. –––– there are no smiles to brighten up his complexion, no light shining through his ribs. this night, like many others, is spent entirely on research. who can i reach next? what can i sell of my soul to have you back?

–––––– 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 . ––––––

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐕 ：𝐂𝐘𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐍 .

departure, resignation ╱ pragma ╱ all good things come to an end .

spring child, full of heartache. oh, how he wishes he could give it back: so many lives lost as he aimed for a pulse of his own, and dante now chases numbness. bodies become a blur, just in time for him to turn into a ghost. cheap whiskey and smoke mix themselves in his tongue, there are pills dissolving in his mouth, there is a stranger pressing him up against a wall. why is it not enough? why must i crave what i can never have? oh, to grow yourself a heart only for a friend to pull it out, for a friend to crush it beneath their feet. foolish boy. you should’ve been grateful for the void i gifted you, is the echo growing inside his brain, his mother’s voice a tortured ghost. to believe one could truly love him –– the most reckless of all behaviours, the pain that could extinguish him into dust. what is heavier than this emptiness? what is more consuming than this void? –––– she … she told me she was going to find someone else to go home with. –––– hollis’ words can’t be erased from his mind, and dante finally crumbles beneath their weight.

( … )

his eyes are swelled up once he reaches london. perhaps, there is a limit –– even for a demon, even for a grotesque creature. perhaps, as he crawls atop galatea’s grave, he meets his end. knife wound, love wound: it bleeds all the same. his body is freezing, even when the night is still –– there is an image replaying in an infinite cycle behind his eyelids, frozen tears clinging to reddened cheeks. –––– was saying ❝ i love you ❞ my undoing? –––– he murmurs into the night, the claws of a demon resting upon his shoulders, smothering and lukewarm, and shivers caress his spine ( tiny spiders, nails across a chalkboard, vermins crawling through a corpse ). –––– he asked me to find him, and i did. –––– there is no humour in his laughter. such unforgivable stupidity, and he can only punish himself for it. unsheathed talons lacerate his scalp: apathy as a life-threatening poison, as he sinks rotten nails inside of his flesh and hopes to come up with a crown, reborn. there is no rage as perished daisies become his halo, as dead mother becomes dead son, on his knees, forehead to the ground. cold rain soaks up his bones: a preferable fate to succumbing to loneliness –– suffering, but religious ( i am only holy when broken, i can only adore as a morgue does with a corpse ). can rose taste him in basile, he wonders? is he too fleeting to be felt, even by a tourmaline angel? –– the one that loves him, loved him, somehow. melinoe whispers in his ear ( mother of madness, but he trusts her –– who else does he have? ) : that was a lie. what does one gain from worshipping you? –– hell, fervent kisses, languid hands, consuming touch, everything, too much, nothing at all.

( … )

jester, conquering his way through pleasing his majesty’s body, filling his bed. oh, to be aware of one’s low worth –– never good enough, even when it came down to being used. tiring illusionist, shuffling the same cards, over and over and over… could he blame anyone for forsaking him? ares, begging to be forgotten. no more pain, no more. the heavens are deaf, however, and it continues: plague in his bones ; hunger in his chest ; torture in his skull. if he stays down for long enough, perhaps no one will bother to look for him. pitiful dead boy turns blind man, hearing his last heartbeat, moonlight on his tongue, constellations on his lips. what is there to be said at his tombstone? unknown, unloved, unmissed. this, the only way he’d ever be able to go. you may have broken my heart, but only i hold the power of shattering my own soul. water springs from his eyes: weeping angel, at home in a cemetery. –––– not even your ghost is capable of loving me, mother. and still, you’re all i have. –––– he whispers, restless, plunging prayers down the earth. love me, you should’ve loved me, love me, please.

–––––– 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞: 𝐚 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 . ––––––

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐕𝐈 ：𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 .

you will be my death ╱ eros ╱ poisonous calamity .

eros finds him –– no mercy, no mercy. mercutio picks him up from the ground, dirty and paralyzed, says nothing. dante wakes up in his bed, undressed, filthy, sore. –––– you always come back, don’t you? –––– the emerald’s voice reverberates in his head, each syllable another nail on his coffin. phobos & deimos are also children of aphrodite, is what he learns with mercutio –– standing tall, smile of a hunter, canines of a wolf. –––– i am really everything you have, huh? –––– his laughter is haunting, and the desai becomes child, forgotten –– once more, once more.

–––– i never had you. –––– dante mumbles, looking out the window. the abyss stares back, offers no answers, vanishes. –––– never had anyone at all.

( … )

when the morning comes, mercutio presses dante against a wall –– hand around his neck, vicious. dante does not blink as breaths become shallow, as lights seem to fade. –––– i’m not scared of you, fool. –––– melancholy in defiance, tone dripping in dark blue. –––– kill me. I’m all yours. –––– and he smiles only after his feet touch the ground, a slap across his cheek. bitter glory. thanatos is always lingering in his spine, never daring to break him. untouchable, even by death. sobriety in nothingness, in madness: mercutio looks inside his soul, and realizes he is messing with a demon with nothing to lose. –––– you have stepped over my guts and claimed the beast inside of me as yours. you have more reasons to fear me than anyone else, and you better start acting like it. –––– dante bows, and leaves. always an actor leaving a stage –– trickster, villain or tragedy? he doesn’t know anymore.

–––––– 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚) 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞, 𝐛) 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫, 𝐜) 𝐬𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 ? ––––––

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐕𝐈𝐈 ：𝐀𝐒𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐋 .

my regrets follow you to the grave ╱ memento mori ╱ remembered beyond the tomb .

dante comes back at midnight, after four long days. there are finger marks against his trachea, there are new quicksilver lines against his body, there is new darkness pressed underneath his eyes. quiet –– inside his heart, white noise. inside his mind, an ocean in which he’s drowning. for poppy, he muses, for poppy: he must move onward for her, if not for anyone else. he can barely hear his own heart, beating, struggling. just until i find her, and then...

#𝑿𝑰𝑰 : REFLECTIONS .#𝑽 : DEVELOPMENT .#body horror tw #suicide tw #blood tw #violence tw #abusive relationship tw #?#drug use tw #overdose tw #self harm tw #suicidal thoughts tw #i couldnt fit in ludus and storge in this #but #yeh

17 notes · View notes

geekkatsblog · 5 years ago

Text

Grey's Anatomy Season 16x20 review

(I'm a little lost.)

In my opinion they're running too many storylines at a time but on that note I'll start.

___________________________________________

Richard

(I was honestly disappointed in the amount of screen time they gave him and his case tonight.)

He had my heart in my hands when he disappeared and was about to cut himself open for surgery, seeing him be so vulnerable and as the patient in itself was heartbreaking. I really thought that they would have solved this situation in this episode but I guess not. It is actually getting worse and worse and to top it all off now he's a meme and those things tend to follow you around for life, hopefully that won't be enough to wipe his whole career, he's also forgetting stuff on top of the hallucinations. He thought he was still married to Adele 😭😭😭. Which means he probably completely forgot about Maggie and a lot of the tragedies that happened. I really hope they keep a better eye on him as well because he's a danger to himself right now. And I wish they solve his case and it's a fixable problem. Most importantly I just hope he doesn't die. In the preview it seems like Deluca is going to solve the case. (Not gonna lie Deluca is cool and all but I was kinda hoping that Maggie, Bailey or Meredith would solve it because it would be a little more emotional. But I guess not besides it seems like the only people in this hospital who can solve the unsolvable now seems to be Deluca and Meredith. When is someone else gonna prove their skills.)

___________________________________________

Link/Amelia

For a moment there I thought we were gonna meet baby Link but nope, it was just a false alarm, it seems like the birth comes next week and it better go smoothly, we lost one baby this season, let's not go for 2. Link seems to be having a little realization of what he's going to be giving up for parenthood, but I have no doubt he'll get over it when he sees Amelia holding their son and holds him for the first time. Amelia is also had a panic attack on not being able to protect her baby from the dangers of the world (sort of like the one Callie had back when she was about to take Sophia home.) I think they'll do great as parents, they may have the usual beginning struggle but they'll get the hang of it eventually. They're the one of the new additions to the power couples of Grey's.

I'm wondering if she's going to name the baby Derek.

___________________________________________

Teddy 🤦🏾‍♀️

She has yet to tell Owen that she has cheated on him, still loves Tom and is very much invested in what happens in his life but has decided to move their wedding up. (Oh Teddy) She spent the whole episode so wound up with how Tom was doing with his case and trying to help him get through it that she completely forgot about the wedding planner bringing over cake samples for her and Owen's wedding and yet she wants to move the wedding up? I can't for the life of me understand where thos love triangle is even heading. At this point it looks like she may very well end up with both. However they need to do something soon because they're kids involved, it's not just them.

___________________________________________

Tom

My poor baby has now begun to feel the dreaded curse of the Seattle Grace. Since the beginning of time that hospital weather merged or renamed has been a curse on all who enter the doors and Tom Koracick is feeling the wrath. His ex brought her son to him for the removal of a brain tumor and apparently the son looked just like the one Tom lost 😭😭. His reactions tore at me the whole night from the time he saw him to the time, he turned over the case to Amelia straight to the time he begged Amelia to do the surgery while in labor.

I was hoping that maybe just maybe this woman was the key to helping him get over Teddy, but she's married it seems and This just made Teddy cling to him more making the situation even worse. And based on the preview for next week it's about to get even worse. All I can say is Tom baby no, think about what you're doing.

On another note what happened to the billionaire story line? I guess they got away with it then.

___________________________________________

Jo and Levi

Just as expected they struck up a friendship. Jo truly is a legend, she is one of the only people in that hospital who has refused to let someone vent their problems over a patient or while they're working. That is queen moves right there, keep work at work. It was so rare that Levi thought she was being rude and packed his stuff up. I'm glad they have each other the friendship is entertaining, Alex isn't coming back and Link's about to be a father and Levi and Nico seem to be actually over for good so at least the have somebody to lean on. As long as it doesn't become sexual I'm here for it.

___________________________________________

Deluca

It seems like Deluca is gonna solve yet another impossible case and he may very well be the Dr House of Grey's so I'm gonna need them to let him get the help he needs so the doctors will listen to him again so my baby can thrive because he may be unstable but no one can deny that he doesn't know what he's talking about.

___________________________________________

Catherine

As expected is devastated, she basically said the same thing I did last week, if she had just swallowed her pride this whole thing may have been solved earlier. But I was hurting for her the whole time. Her husband was sick and she didn't know because they were fighting and now he thinks he's married to the woman before he was married to her. There's a lot of pain, regrets and guilt. However I'm glad to see she isn't holding it in and is letting Jackson comfort her and I was also pleased to see that she went on her private jet to collect him and has been glued to his side the whole time. For the First time besides the trick last week, I'm seeing hope for there marriage. I hope I get to see that hope blossom.

___________________________________________

Maggie

Is having regrets for her sexcapade last week, but she couldn't have known that was going to happen. She's with Richard the whole time and now he probably doesn't remember who she is, I hope she's going to have someone there for her as well. Speaking of which where's her bae? Are we just never going to hear from him again?

___________________________________________

Meredith

Trying to save Richard, she looked so somber the whole episode because that is one of the last people who has been there from the beginning lying on the table and can possibly be suffering from the same thing her mum suffered from. Fingers crossed that she's not going to lose another one of her family. At least she seems to be willing to do anything to save him even think outside the box.

___________________________________________

Bailey

Needs to take it down a notch now I love my Bailey and I know that there are certain protocols you need to follow and that it is noticable that Deluca is having a problem but it really doesn't hurt to stop and listen, no matter how unstable you think the person is, she could at least check out what he's saying.

___________________________________________

Jackson

Left the teachings of Mark Sloan to help support his mother and Richard and may possibly be packing his bags and heading to Station 19. (Due to my forgetful brain and a mix up in the changed time slots I watched station 19 as well tonight.) He seems to be interested in joining Ben as the new medic 1 but who knows?

___________________________________________

Notes and questions

• Is Richard going to be ok?

• Will he and Catherine patch their marriage?

• Will Teddy finally confess to Owen that she cheated?

• Who will she choose Owen or Tom?

• Where is Maggie's new love? He seemed really adamant on being together and now in this time when she'll need support he's nowhere to be seen.

• Are we ever going to find out if Deluca was right about the girl and her guardian. (I mean we just gonna leave that out?)

• Same goes with Tom and the billionaire.

• Will Amelia's pregnancy go smoothly?

• Will Deluca finally get the help he needs?

___________________________________________

Next week is the Season finale and I really hope they can wrap everything up and it doesn't leave more questions than answers.

On another note I hope everyone is well and continues to stay safe.

41 notes · View notes

ayse-buntion · 4 years ago

Text

It’s time to live for myself.

Now I must move on, let go of these restraints, and all of my mistakes that are hanging onto me. I must accept myself for who I was and love who I became, because only God knows the beauty and success that I have yet to become.

It’s time now — I must free myself from the pain and agony from my grief that has kept me tied down.

All that is old; I must let go. There are so many parts of my heart that I’ve never gotten to show, and there’s so many depths of my soul that I have yet to know. If I hold on any longer, I am only being the wall between myself and my blessings.

He did not love me in the way that God made him a man for him to love his wife as such, so He took me from him because he was not ready for such a blessing as me. And this pain, this trauma, and my every ache at the loss that has stricken me and left me in shock, God called for me to be a woman so I would be strong enough as a whole, alone and by myself, to get through the sunken hole in my chest that has caused me to lose my best, and put my soul to rest while my heart wept. He built me as a woman so I could heal while my heart learn and grew, and my soul slept.

He put ease to my inner being by creating me in this form of womanly existence, so my heart could hurt and grieve my losses and beat stronger as it put itself back together and grew into all that it’s meant to be.

God built me as a woman so I could have the strength to love myself beyond a man’s heart that had once beat for me. He made me in this form so I could relearn myself and learn how to make my own heart beat in love for myself.

My one last word for you, whom it wasn’t that truly lost in losing me;

My love, despite what you may think, who I was is not who I am meant to be. You don’t even know the slightest part of me, because beyond what I had been was all that we could see. It was I who had truly lost in losing me, and I will no longer allow you to make me complete. I will be enough for me. I can no longer listen to your false opinions and ignorant presumptions of me, because how can you know me truly whenever I do not even have the same blessing as such?

I am free. You can no longer hold me, and my heart and soul are no longer yours to keep.

Truth be told, it is God who made this body that I carry upon my soul for this life, and it is Him who made this body the flesh of a woman because only He has known the very greatness and blessings that are meant for me. This body is no longer yours, it is mine. This body is my gift from my God, and I will no longer share it with anyone who does not touch it in love and with pure intent for me.

This body is a temple that I have been given, my heart being a gift that I have been chosen to hold, and I will not allow you to break my soul anymore. It is God who has created me, it is Him who continues to make me and save me from my burdens and stress of this heavy heart, filled with love and purity that you no longer deserve. So, now, I must give my body back to myself and give my heart back to God, so my soul can be replenished and cured of its ailments with God’s dignity, His grace, and His love for me — I know now that it’s God who has always had the most love for me and the purest intent for who I’ve been called to be.

I am learning. I will make mistakes.

God has built me, flesh and bone, as a WOMAN, so I can withstand ANY and EVERY break and tear, the VERY DESTRUCTION of ALL that I am composed of, and build myself up to come back to life and keep walking through the fire that loss and grief will always ignite. He has built me, from skin to spirit, as a woman, to carry and birth the humanity that He has created. Women carry the human body — ones of both the man and the woman — FOR the man, and you had best believe that God will take the woman from a man who does not cherish and place the crown upon his woman. He will take the woman from a man who does not respect, love, dedicate himself to, or devote fully his heart and soul to his woman.

You did not do these things past the point of my flaws, and you did not keep me attached in half to your soul. You undid those strings and did not allow me to carry your heart past the point of my troubles, trials, and tribulations while I fought for myself, lost myself, and battled my hardest to learn who I was again while I was growing and had to mend for me to heal. You cut off your attachment to me and left me halfway incomplete, ripped open and bleeding from the side of myself that you were once sewed onto and attached to. You left your space battered, broken, and bruised with the infection of your memory causing the furthering of my deterioration as I was already bleeding from wounds among the empty places of my heart where I lost battles and part of my soul.

My God is so pure and kind, and He loved me enough, way more than you ever did or ever could’ve, to thread His needle and create me, sewing me back together and mending me as I unraveled and tore, all while He continued to make me into the image of who I’m to become and the plan that He has had for me. Since before He even began to place every piece, God had a reason for everything that I have been through and endured. Whatever God takes, He gives you something better for you in its place, once you learn the lessons that He wants you to learn, and survive the pain that He knows will teach the words of His love and plan for you in the aches.

My God loves me so very much that He gave me the body of a woman, He created me into one, so the flesh of my heart and the skin of my Godly temple could bare the wounds of an empty hand that was once full of love, but burned me and cut deep into the crevices where my soul is its most vulnerable. God gave me the nature of maturity, comfort, gentleness, kindness, love, and strength, in His decision of creating me as a woman. He did this so I could find the pieces that are broken and scattered, fit them all together with the new parts that I have found of myself, and put myself back together again with strength and in gentle love for myself that begins my own healing, so and while He sews me and mends me back together.

If you think, my love, that God would truly gift you a woman whose body is the only thing that you love while her heart and soul is left untouched, unloved, not cherished, unheard, and unseen, while she fights and loses herself for you to grab onto, attach yourself to, and make love to the deepest points of her being, you are wrong. She is not truly yours though she wants to be.

God does not gift the ungrateful and blind man the purest woman in her heart and soul for the man, for him to keep. He is only showing the man what love truly is, and giving the lesson of what the sight that the blind man is missing. God is only giving the purest woman you, just as a lesson. This is one that you must allow God to teach. You must allow God to speak and listen when He has His word to preach. You are nothing but a lesson to the purest woman of what she truly deserves so she can see what is truly meant for her, that way she won’t allow herself to be given less than all of what she’s worth because of her pure and devoting love for somebody who isn’t herself. She is still learning.

She is nothing but an eye opener to you, that God hopes you wake up and see for you to become all that you are meant to be. You must choose to hear God for what He speaks, and not close Him off or shut Him out because those words are not what you want to hear.

Don’t you see?

The body of the woman, the flesh and blood, the skin and heart, the soul and spirit, all that are of her grace and glory, both that are bestowed upon those who are around whenever the world surrounding her is gifted with her presence — it is not meant to fulfill your physical or emotional needs. The body of the woman brings you what you TRULY need in her heart, soul, mind, and spirit.

If you do not take in, hold onto, and love with pure intent, all of the beauty that she comes with, the chaos and gentle oceans that lies within, or the holy and vivacious strength that she resides in, losing you would be the only battle with you that she’d win.

I have been given this body, not for your blessing, but my own. Yes, this body can make you feel good and temporarily fix your urges and temptations to physically release the stress, burdens, and desires that you hold in. This body can make you go crazy — it can drive you to the point of insanity whenever you crave to get your hands onto it and bring it in for you to taste, but it’s not truly yours unless you crave and desire, unless you fight for and hold onto her whole entirety. Her soul and her heart, you must hold onto, see, and hear all that it’s written of in the words of God. Her mind, you must listen to and tend to as a garden. You must listen, understand, and secure her safely within yourself by gently handling and caring for her spirit.

The spirit of the woman is the most fragile of herself. You must speak with words of hope, comfort, peace, and security, in your concern and through your disagreements, during all of your unsettled and untamed anger, sadness, or misunderstanding. The body of the woman can not be taken as all that you need to make love to, it can not be treated as just a monument of flesh that can cause you to climax and give you euphoria in its physical sensations and touch. You must love her spirit and make love to her soul, mend gently her heart, listen and understand her mind, while making love to her body. The place of ultimate pleasure is not the place of the creation of the human.

To truly be blessed with the body of the woman, you must see, understand, know, and cherish the woman is a whole. Otherwise, God will take her from you because you chose to be the obstacle in the road to her blessings instead of being a blessing yourself.

God will take from you, the body of the woman who you only loved that deep whenever she was enough to fulfill your whole heart and ease it’s pain, and bring your soul the pieces and the part that it needed to be complete so you could heal when it’d break. But if you make it your mistake to not give the woman what you take, and create her position in your life as her being nothing but a tie that you can can take advantage of whenever you come to her for an undying love, to get all it is from her that you want, just know that God will make sure that the tie you create to her that’s impure and is less than she is deserving of, will be cut.

You can not keep a blessing that you do not bless.

This is my body. God has given this to me.

He took it away from you so I could be complete and find somebody that who, when opening me up and picking up each piece of me, is seeking my soul when they listen to my mind, hear my soul, learn of my spirit, and heal my heart. God will instead give me to a man who holds onto me, and with each part of myself that I set free to them, they carry pure intentions and attach to every detail, each intimate and vulnerable depth of me, they always hold the closest to their own and hold onto them with intentions to keep.

Since you did not love me in the way that God made you a man for you to love a woman as such, God didn’t take you from me, though I had felt as if it was my loss. But it was rather God taking me from YOU, so I would not be the one to lose. In His separating of you and I, God untangled my wings and unchained you from around them, freeing me from the weight that you had put upon them. He threw you to the sea within me so you could always be a part of me, but lifted you from my my eyes to clear my sight so I could finally breathe. He placed you on the ground gently in front of me since that’s where you decided you’d rather be in breaking me down and not building yourself up with me, just using me for you to feel as if you were accomplishing something in the false sense of sight.

You swore you saw yourself rising with the confidence that I had given to you in knowing that you had me hooked, in the belief that when you’d run, I’d always be there to chase and make you feel brave enough to try and stand above the world. That was so, so wrong, because my God loves me enough. I’m not sure what god you believe in, but he must not love you as much. He made you think that you’d always see me standing there, chasing after you, giving into you, and giving my body to you. My God loves you more than to let you fall under that unreal impression. If you turned to Him, you would’ve seen long before now, that if you did not love me the way God created a man for him to love a woman, I would be released from your grip.

So sad the reality is that, despite what you thought and swore you had seen, for you, there was not always meant to be me, because you decided my body was what you had to need, but didn’t realize that it was all of my entirety, all of my being, and all of my existence beyond skin deep is everything that you needed to keep. Now you only have the empty space that I use to be the capacitor of, that I had given you more than what was enough, and that I have left now because I wasn’t being loved just as much, to remind you of all that you had and all that you could’ve kept, all that you’re worth and have the capability of gaining again. It’s up to you to choose if you deserve it.

You have to choose to be all that you can be — the best of yourself and your best blessing — so you can finally get and keep a love that’s worth the hardship and pain in the change of yourself, the growing into yourself in your best. Your body is not an escape or a sexual stature where you can burn off steam. The body of the man is a safe place and secure presence that is meant to love a woman in complete devotion, passion, and hold her close with gentle, kind, and peaceful energy and strength.

With the same hands that you carry your burdens and soul, you’re supposed to hold the heart of the woman and not use as a tool or set fire to, the body of the woman, because that ignites her soul. The touch of the man is supposed to console, comfort, hold, and bring security and safety to the woman that the man has been called to leave the imprint of their hand upon the woman’s heart. The man is supposed to comfort and ease the pain of the woman as she holds herself together, making it easier and taking the pressure off of her, keeping her strong enough with encouragement and light, to keep holding them together. The hands of the man are supposed to bring a safe place of security and comfort to ease the pain of the weight that the woman bears as she is trying to put the pieces of herself together, and his hands are to help console her and show her the gentle, caring emotions she should have for herself, the same that he has for her, as well, so she can hold it all and herself in place.

The hands of the man are to comfort and bring security to the woman as she gets wounded and bleeds, easing the pain while she picks up her pieces, giving her the bravery and encouragement, the light to see as she holds every part of her together, while God mends her and heals her.

The hands of the man are gifted to him, for him to hold onto the woman and give her comfort and security so she can have the strength to hold the broken pieces of herself together, while God heals her wounds and sews her back together.

See, God made the woman with unimaginable and godly strength, for her to bare the scars upon her heart and soul once He is done sewing her back together, mending her, and healing her. But God made the man to work hand-in-hand with him as He creates the woman and builds her up, since she is what gives the world it’s life and love, bearing and birthing humanity so the world can grow and nature can flourish with her giving of its precious lungs. God created the man to devote himself to the woman, to comfort, cherish, and make love to the woman through her flaws, her weaknesses, and comfort her with his security and safety through the hardest trials and tribulations of her life, when she’s fighting to save herself, her soul, and her heart so she can love the man enough for it to be even more than he’s been deserving of.

He created the man to help the woman have comfort in her own strength while she gains her confidence in her abilities to hold and carry the weight of the universe and its worlds, stars, and lives that it consists of. The man is to love the woman, cherish the woman, give to the woman his heart and soul, while she gives him her heart as her soul is breaking apart. The man is built and designed by God to love beyond his own body, to love the woman beyond hers, gently with passion and wholly with pure intention, so it is weight that is being lifted off of her instead of being put onto her by the man, as she fights to keep herself together for God to mend her.

You are wrong in thinking that all I ever wanted from you was to hold me together, mend me, and heal me. That is not what it was. I have been designed by God to be strong enough, I can do the holding myself together even with no weight being lifted or pain being eased from me. I can do it all without you, though God designed you to be the comfort, the security, and the ease to my struggling soul. All I ever had wanted from you, was for you to love me through the flames, extinguish all that was ablaze and burned in your name, all the damaging and fumigating haze that you were the one to create.

All that I ever wanted from you, was for you to love me as God created the man to love the woman — that being and meaning showing me the sight of and helping me remember that I am enough, and that I can conquer and overcome all of pain and wounds of the battles that I have lost, so that I can become the fate of the war that is that I’m the one who truly won. You were meant to encourage me on and keep me from being blinded to the reality that, even if I seemed to have lost the battle, I did not lose the war. You were the one who was meant to love me through and give me the greatest, best, and biggest parts of you to keep me complete until I found and regained those lost pieces, the best parts of myself.

Never did you once fulfill your position that God put you in, in creating you as a man, to hold me through the battles while I fought to hold myself together, so it would be easier for both I and God, because He is the one who sews and mends every piece. He’s the one who heals me. So, I did not ask that much of you, because that’s a job that is impossible for even I to do. That would have been selfish for me to have asked that of you whenever it’s only God who can mend me and heal me. I just always ever asked of you, to hold me and cherish me through to me core, and through the struggles that left me sore.

This is my body.

God created me, from flesh to bone, as a woman, because He knew my strength could move mountains and expand the universe.

My body was a gift, not for you to find physical pleasure in for a release or fulfillment of your materialistic needs. It was a gift for me from my God, because he loves me enough to give me everything that I need instilled inside of myself to overcome and rise above all that fails me and falters under me, even without a man. He made the man to be an ease, to be security, encouragement, a safe place, and a weight lifting, gentle and kind, loving, caring, giving, and devoting outlet. He created me to be divine, while you and I were created to be a light in this world whilst together.

Do you get it now?

God made me a woman, not to please you, not to give to you my body. He did not even create me as a woman to give to you my heart, soul, mind, and spirit. Those things are right here with who they’re supposed to be with, so giving them to a man is the last purpose for them. He created me as a woman to carry my heart, nurture the nature, flourish the world, bless the Heavens, comfort the sick, bring wealth to the poor, bring sight to the blind. He created me as a woman to bare and birth the children that are both you, man, and myself, woman, and create His Earth, His universe, into one that glows and thrives with infectious and vivacious prosperity and gentle, loving, and pure intent while living the with purpose of giving and breeding, holy and purity. He created the man to help Him hand-in-hand to care for the woman and ease her pain. He gave strength to the man for him to carry the woman and lift the weight from her shoulders.

My God created the man to help him care for and secure the monument that the woman is built upon for her to not fall, and for her to be sure she is strong enough if everything collapses beneath her. The man is to comfort and cherish the woman as she fights the battles that cause the humanity that she carries and brings to life to win wars. The man is build in God’s form, for him to love the woman in a physical being as God would, and love her in a spiritual being as God does. Since the woman carries the world in her body and the universe in her soul and spirit, the man is God’s right-hand-man to keep the woman strong at mind and on the right track while she births life into us and holds the weight of the universe on herself. She tends to the gardens that she has planted with the most gentle, kind, loving, nurturing, and nourishing parts of her heart, for them to flourish and grow to be their best beyond what she ever been.

The woman does this all and ensures the strength and quality of life in each being of nature that she has created, all the while, creating beings of beauty who will use their own lives to promote the wealth, health, happiness, and success of humanity that all cause the most important and moving revolution to the world. The woman creates and tends to the flowers she plants to ensure their beauty, gentle touch, and strength for the world to move forward and humanity to grow into the best that it can be, by her nurturing, constructing, and loving soul giving all that it is. The woman creates the evolution that is for the better by planting life into the soul of the Earth and growing them from the best of her heart and the softest of it. While instilling our best into us with pure intent and moving us forward, beyond mountains and the Heavens for the better, the greater, and the good, she fights battles against the bad that nobody else sees because she takes the hardest hits from the worst of the earth for us so we won’t have to hurt or be destructed by our very home she planted us upon.

The woman is not just a mother to the humans she carries and births, but to the whole entire world and universe. The blind man is one who can not see the worth of a woman or his place by God to love, hold onto, and honor the woman while she builds herself up in her darkest places of heart, mind, soul, and spirit. God knows that it’s the woman who breaths life into every lung, every planet, every star, every person to be, and all of humanity, for He’s the one who created the woman with that purpose. The man is the one who holds onto the woman to remind her of her capabilities when she gets lost and forgets, to be the light that shines on her when she’s in the darkest paths so see can see where she’s going. The man is to encourage her through her weakest points, to ease her pain with each of her wounds, to comfort her with security of a safe place to turn to when it’s all too much for her.

The man was built by God with strength to take weight off of the woman while she fights battles behind closed doors, so she can be more free and have more room to breathe while she continues to fight for humanity and give to us the heart that we need in order to grow. The woman is the one who carries the universe, so God built the man to carry her burdens and push her forward just enough for her to see again that her in herself, as a woman, is all that will ever be enough to adapt, to overcome, and to conquer all.

It is the truth when I say that the man was designed and built to be a healing agent for the woman, to be a place of ease, while she holds herself and the universe together, and while God sews her back together, mends her, and heals her.

Men are created as a physical reflection of God. It’s a representation of God’s love.

My love, it’s you who lost whenever you lost me. It was me who lost whenever you had me, because I had not myself.

I had lost myself trying to be enough for you, whenever it was and has always been God who has showed me that I am enough. Never again will I forget God, nor will I ever turn a blind eye to Him again, for any love that isn’t His. You were meant to be none other but a lesson to me, and blessed be the one who got away without losing someone who’s love is what it say that it is and means more than what it can ever express that it means.

This is my body — the body of the woman. ✨

My God loves me enough to have given me the opportunity to have loved as I loved you, to have had something meaningful enough to have been something that I had lost, and while I wasn’t the one to lose. He loved me enough to give me a false love and tell me that I was enough, showing me that you didn’t mean enough to lose myself because of.

My body is my gift from God.

It was never truly yours.

You were but a twinkling of the eye as a star passed through the sky, whenever I thought that you were the star. But, God showed me again and again, time after time, that even the stars are just passing by. There will be a time that we must say goodbye to even them. I’d be mistaking if I said you were ever meant to stay for long.

Thank you, God.

I love you for this lesson, for every loss when you take from me, things that you will repay me for.

Thank you for creating me as a woman.

I know that I am strong when I’m alone, but when I’m with you, I don’t need anyone. I can lose myself completely and not need to worry. Whereas, if I leaned upon anyone else, I know I’d be missing everything. With you, God, I have everything. I am a woman, and I am strength. I am love. I am all that is good, kind, gentle, loving, caring. I’m every light in this world.

Without you, I’m nothing.

Still, I move forward and heal by the touch of your hand when you mend me.

You created the man to be a hand to the woman, and a hand to you in building the woman, but you can be the only one to hold me, and there will be nobody else that I need. I know that I was made to carry the universe and birth humanity, but it’s all for you and because of you. For that, all that I am capable of and do as a woman, even though it’s you that created me in this form, you still honor me. You still build me, you still heal me, and you still complete me for all that I do for this world and in my honoring you because you’re the one who made me able to.

Thank you, God, for this body. I am a monument of strength and a temple of Your grace. A love like yours, no one could ever replace. I know you’ll heal the wounds of this loss you placed into my life for reasons that I have yet to find. I know that there are more blessings forward than I left behind. Thank you for bringing me out from the blinding love and hurt that I felt.

This is my body, Lord.

This is my body, my love.

I will not give it to no one again who does not love me in the way that my God has created a man to love a woman, who does not love me in the same amount and way as my God does.

It’s time to set myself free and give my body, my gift from God, back to me. 🍃

4 notes · View notes