#like I'm the one writing it

[clickerflight]

Clove: Part 23 - Up a Creek

Benny comfort! Well, as much as I can feasibly give at the moment.

Masterlist - Part 22

Content: Vampire whumpee, fae whumper, abusive marriage, bruising and scratches, brainwashed whumpee, whumpee defending abuser, fae politics

...................................

“Jokel is dead!”

The breakfast suddenly came to a halt, the fae falling silent as they looked to the messenger at the doorway. 

Hyrum used the distraction to press himself under Ephraim’s arm, hiding from the fae that had been trying to touch his hair and fur since breakfast began. He’d tried to do the exact thing earlier but the comments of being a rude Guest for hiding had forced him back out, flinching at every move from the strange people around him. 

Ephraim held Hyrum close as all of the fae turned their gaze on the Monarch, who seemed rather surprised by the news. 

“Dead? How?”

“There was dark magic in the wounds, you’re Majesty, and he was near to the ritual places. I suspect that the sorcerer may have done it.”

The Queen’s sharp gaze turned to Ephraim and Hyrum. “Do you know of this?”

Ephraim shook his head. He looked down at Hyrum who shook his head as well. “We were not there for it, your Highness,” Ephraim said, trying to keep the tremble out of his voice as Hyrum buried his face deeper into Ephraim’s shirt. 

The Queen pursed her lips before she broke out into a cruel grin, sharp teeth all on display. There were too many of them. No creature should have that many teeth. At least, no creature living on land. 

“Well, it seems we’ll be holding a funeral!” She announced to the table, eyes flitting over through the fae who all suddenly had expressions of jubilee and excitement. “I will have the list for our marching order this evening!” She announced, clapping her hands in glee. 

She shot a look at Benny, who hadn’t stopped looking at her through the entirety of breakfast, eyes cloudy and distant. 

“You will help me, my dear. And our dear father here will have to join the procession since he was the brave warrior who killed the sorcerer for us! Oh yes, this will be fun, won’t it?”

“Of course,” Benny said almost breathlessly, seemingly overcome by her excitement. 

Ephraim bit the inside of his mouth carefully. He had suspected that Benny was charmed, and it was becoming clearer by the moment that this was the truth. His fledgling was completely gone now, a blank doll in the face of the fae queen’s magic.

“Oh, please, your Highness!” a fae with petals for hair and wings called, hands over her heart in what looked like outright ecstasy. “Please can I be put next to our guests? I have been so helpful with the gardens, haven’t I?”

The Monarch’s gaze became disgusted and cruel as she looked at the flowery fae. 

“Halia, you are not to ask for such things,” she hissed out with so much venom that the petals on Halia’s head actually withered to black. 

She whimpered, sitting back down and covering her head with a napkin, looking down as silent sparkling tears brimmed in her eyes. 

The Monarch took a deep breath. “Finish breakfast, everyone. I will start ordering the list with my dear husband here. We will retrieve Jokel’s body an hour before sundown!”

Benny stood up quickly, pulling out his wife’s seat and helping her up before walking away without so much as a backwards glance at Ephraim and Hyrum. 

Ephraim watched, listening to the buzz of the fae around the room, no longer paying attention to the two of them. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” Ephraim murmured to Hyrum. “I think it’s okay for us to go back to our room.”

“I want to go home,” Hyrum whimpered as they stood up, thankfully drawing no attention their way as they did so. 

It broke Ephraim’s heart to see Hyrum’s tail tucked between his legs, shivering and trembling in Ephraim’s hold. 

“I know, Goldenrod. I do as well. And we will. We just have to be patient and smart.”

Hyrum sniffled, nodding a little as the two of them snuck off to their rooms. Ephraim just hoped they weren’t breaking any rules by leaving, but if they were the Queen’s guests and she left the breakfast, then surely they were safe to leave after she did. Ephraim hoped he would be able to speak to Benny soon about the rest of the Hospitality pact. And to see if there was anything left of his fledgling under the charm the Queen held over him. 

………………………………….

Benny was…. Tired. He limped down the hall, hours later, stomach grumbling unhappily at him. His wife had gone over the fae in her court, picking out the ones she wanted to have in the procession to retrieve Jokel’s body. She then made sure to line them up so everyone would be standing next to someone they hated, laughing gleefully over the drama that was sure to ensue over the next three days. 

And Benny was tired. He couldn’t even remember helping her with decisions. All he knew was that he stepped out of the room and exhaustion, hunger, and pain hit him like three carts lined up one after the other. His arm hurt now, too. He couldn’t even remember what had happened, only remembering his wife’s glee getting out of hand. Eyes shining and burning and promising pain that she would enjoy and-

He stumbled, a headache shooting through his head. 

He gasped for a moment, touching his forehead before pushing forward. He should see a healer. These headaches were coming all of the time now. 

He held his arm gently, watching his feet take their mistimed steps under him. 

He stopped at a door and as he looked at it blearily he realized it wasn’t his bedroom. Why was he here? Where- oh. He could smell his sire. His instincts had brought him here, looking for kindness and love and safety when he was so tired and hurt and emotional. 

He closed his eyes, shaking his head and turned to go to his room when the door opened. 

“Benny?”

Tears sprang to Benny’s eyes before he could stop them as he turned back. Ephraim looked tired too, but that didn’t stop him from coming out into the hall and cupping his cool hands on either side of Benny’s jaw, tilting his head down so Ephraim could see him better. 

“Benny, what’s wrong?” Ephraim asked gently. “Here, come in.”

Benny allowed himself to be led in and pushed into a couch. “I’ll make some tea,” Ephraim said. Tea. Ephraim always made tea when emotions needed to be soothed. Something about the place where Ephraim came from, Benny was pretty sure. Most of the people in the village would just tell you to rub dirt in it and it would be fine. He couldn’t remember… who exactly would say that though. 

Ephraim came back from putting the tea on and pulled Benny’s heavy jewelry off, gentle hands brushing over his skin as Ephraim checked for injuries. He always did that. 

“Eef,” Benny whispered, vision cloudy from tears suddenly welling up. 

“What is it, Begonia?” Ephraim asked. 

Benny opened his mouth, but nothing would come out. He was so muddled. Something must be wrong. He was so upset but he couldn’t place why. Maybe because his arm hurt?

Ephraim caught on to the way Benny was holding his arm and gently pulled down the sleeve. The open design of the shirt made it easy to do so. 

Ephraim saw the deep bruising and scratching around Benny’s elbow and nearly lost it. He only let his fangs flash for half a second before he bit it all back. 

“Begonia, what happened? Who did this?”

Benny blinked at Ephraim, uncomprehending and blank with exhaustion. Ephraim felt desperation rising in his stomach, threatening to swallow him whole as he sat on the couch, pulling Benny into his chest. The fledgling didn’t put up any fight, letting Ephraim move him where he pleased. 

Ephraim ran gentle hands over Benny's hair and neck, pressing kiss after kiss to his forehead. 

“Come on, my boy. Come on, dear. Come back to me. It’s alright, I’m here now. Come back to me baby boy.”

Benny tensed, raising a hand to twine it in Ephraim’s shirt in a way he hadn’t since he had just barely been turned. 

Ephraim sat there and rocked Benny gently back and forth, stroking his fledgling’s head and kissing his forehead and hair, murmuring comforts to him. 

It took a while for Benny to come back to his senses, confused to find himself held in Ephraim’s arms. 

He took in his situation for a moment before he smiled a little. “You’re not mad at me anymore, then, old man?”

Ephraim did not find this amusing. The swift switch in moods was very much not a good sign. 

“Welcome back,” Ephraim said, letting Benny sit up, though keeping a hold on his injured arm. “Tea should be ready. Tell me what happened.”

Ephraim stood up, releasing Benny reluctantly to go deal with the upset kettle as Benny tilted his head, confused. “Happened? Oh, yes, Jokel is dead. There will be a three day funeral where every fae will be trying to win favor with my wife and there will be all sorts of drama.” Benny waved his hand dismissively. “I was just helping my wife with deciding who will be in the procession. It’s important to let the fae know their ranks in the procession so they can see who they will need to pass in favor. The final rankings will be made at the last feast when things settle down again, but-”

“No, what happened to your arm.”

Benny looked down at said arm and clicked his tongue. “Oh, I must have scraped it.”

“You’re a vampire, Benny,” Ephraim said, unimpressed. 

“Well,” Benny said haltingly, “My wife is fae, you know? She can get a little excited sometimes. It happens, and she always apologizes and makes it up to me. It’s fine.”

“Was she what happened to your leg too?”

Oh yeah. His leg hurt too. “Um, well, maybe, but we were just having some fun and it got a little out of hand,” Benny said dismissively. “I’ll be fine after I eat, I’m sure.”

Ephraim brought him a cup of tea, which Benny accepted with a thank you. “So, how did I come to be here?”

Ephraim simply stared at Benny for a long moment. “We’re up a creek with no paddle, Begonia,” was his only comment before he downed his tea like he wished it were alcohol. 

Part 24

Clove Taglist: @wolfeyedwitch @the-blind-one-speaks @whumpsday @extrabitterbrain @inkkswhumpandstuff 

@honeycollectswhump @whump-blog-reblogs @pigeonwhumps @mj-or-say10 @percy-frayer 

@currentlyinthesprial @scoundrelwithboba @whumps-and-bumps

[inkskinned]

okay is she being actually immature or is it just a woman over 30 expressing a human experience you find to be immature.

like yeah. at certain ages... let shit go. im not defending the real immature shit. im not defending the karen you're picturing. i worked in retail i hate those people too. (once somebody got mad at me because she didn't like how our winter window decor was a snowman smoking a pipe. i wish i was joking).

but men at 57 will write books about how 17 year old girls are soooo sexy. they will invent worlds where women have to be naked for "armor reasons." they will write songs that treat women as objects. people rush to defend them. meanwhile a woman at 35 will be like "heartbreak is hard, actually" or "i feel betrayed by a friend" or "i am struggling with something emotionally." immediately people will say stuff like this woman is 35 by the way. by the way this woman is SO OLD to be experiencing this. BY THE WAY.

im 31, almost 32. the other day a poet was blasted online because at her "big age", she had written a poem about feeling unloved. top comment was "this woman is 29 by the way." this woman is too old to still be useful, by the way. she has to behave better . maybe if she was a good wife and mother she could stop existing loudly, and the story could continue on without her. this woman has served her purpose, by the way. she's so cringe, by the way. at 29 - so old! - she still hasn't figured out that her existence should be one of shame.

[lazylittledragon]

if i had a nickel for every au spawned from twitter that i SWORE i was going to be normal about

[howlsnteeth]

24/05/2020

[radiance1]

By all accounts, it shouldn't have worked.

By all bloody accounts, that should not have worked.

Constantine will repeat.

That, by all accounts, should not have worked.

The warehouse was shitty. The materials were shitty. The summoning circle was shitty. The chanting was shitty. The magic was shitty.

By all accounts, the summoning should not have worked.

So Constantine couldn't give much of a shit about really stopping it because the summoning was so shitty it shouldn't have worked by an means possible.

So what. In the ever-loving fuck. Was the Ghost King, known tyrant of the Infinite Realms. Standing in the middle of the circle and not, last he checked, imprisoned?

That was another thing that he thought would have made it fail, actually. Because the Ghost King was incapacitated, asleep, gone, unavailable, nada.

So what. The fuck. Was he doing. Here?

Constantine knew the day was going to well to stay that way but wow. The universe loves to fuck him over, apparently.

Or the Justice League in specific.

Or both.

Doesn't matter, because now he has to bullshit his way out of this or get ready to brawl for his life.

Good thing he's good at both of those things, then.

Mostly the bullshit-

"Phantom what the fuck are you doing-" Constantine wheezed out, watching one of their newest members-a ghost going by the name Phantom-fly over in front of the known tyrant and-

Oh.

Oh, holy shit this won't end well.

Ghost King.

Phantom. A ghost.

Well, shit.

This is fine. This is totally fine. He just needs to bullshit his way out of this or face two powerhouses.

This is fine.

He's done worse.

"Sup War" Phantom said, floating around the summoning circle that contained the king of all ghosts like it wasn't a problem. "Didn't expect to be seeing you here."

"Ward." The Ghost King inclined his head slightly, eyes trained on Phantom. "I would not have come here if not for Time's insistence and I have been meaning to..." The King paused, hands gripping and ungrasping the pommel of his sword. "...Check in... on you."

"Aww, were you worried about lil old meeeee?" Phantom, ever the little shit and holy shit did Constantine want to go over there and shut him up, said. Floating around until he was staring upside down in the Ghost King's face. "Didn't know you were so soft, pa."

"I am not soft." The King huffed, flame dancing at the edges of his hair. "I was merely... concerned. Over how you would be acclimating to your circumstances. This world's League of Justice covers far more than your small haunt."

"Weeeell, it's not that bad honestly." Phantom admitted. "Haven't really done anything too big yet just some smallish things here and there. So, you know." The ghost boy shrugged, swinging back in the air to turn upright and crossing his legs. "Nothing too bad."

"Good." The Ghost King nodded, shoulders slumping so slightly that if Constantine wasn't looking, he wouldn't have seen it. "That is good. Yes. Good." The King slightly cleared his throat, grasping and ungrasping the pommel of his sword.

Silence echoed in the warehouse as the King seemingly looked for words to say.

"Would you..." He cleared his throat again, squaring his shoulders and standing up straighter. "Would you like to join me and Time for a meeting? It has been some time since you had last joined us." The King shifted slightly before adding. "Of course, if you're busy you do not have too."

"Sure." Phantom said, rolling back and forth in the air as he hummed. "Been a while since we've had some family time-"

"Family time?" Constantine caught someone-who he thinks was Green Lantern-say. He was just as bewildered.

"And if Time sent you here then it must be important." Danny paused before shrugging. "Or maybe not, can never know with him. But yea, sure. I'll come."

"Wonderful." The Ghost King smiled. Smiled. At Phantom. "Then I shall. Leave. Now. To do. Things. Yes. Things." The summoning circle flashed a familiar green, the same green when the King was first being summoned. "Goodbye, ward."

"You can call me son, you know."

The King paused for a moment, blinking slowly before hesitantly nodding.

"Then goodbye. Son."

The circle flashed and just like that. The king was gone.

"Kid. What the fuck." Whoever said- okay wait no that was Constantine, him. But yea fuck it he agrees with himself. "What the fuck." He repeated.

Phantom, the brat, only gave him a shit eating grin and a peace sign before disappearing on the spot.

[nadiajustbe]

One of my favorite parts about the writing of Howl's Moving Castle is how easy it is to write off all the things from our world at first as him just being a weird wizard™ (also thanks to bestie @jutenium for spotting this I wouldn't put it like that without you!!/pos). Sure, Sophie uses weird descriptions, but readers have every reason to believe them because of the way Howl is presented as a character. When Sophie says he wrote with a quill that doesn't need an ink, you wouldn't think it was actually a ballpoint pen, you would think Howl had just enchanted his quill so that it wouldn't need ink! When she adds that she can't make out a single word, you think he has matchingly terrible handwriting, but in fact Sophie has simply never seen a pen writing. When she sees the mysterious labels on his books, you think he's keeping a lot of obscure magical literature, but it's really just an encyclopedia and a guide like "Top 10 Rugby Tips." When Sophie notices the bottles in Howl's bathtub, you think they're some kind of magical jars where he keeps girl's hearts, but I'm almost certain that they're just 'Dove' and 'Head and Shoulders' that he's enhanced with his spells and put silly labels on. When you read Calicifer singing a song in a language Sophie doesn't understand, you think it's some kind of ancient cipher or code, but it's actually just a rugby song in Welsh that Howl sings when he's drunk. And finally, when you see the terrifying black door, which is completely shrouded in darkness, you imagine a passage to an eerie, mythical place, similar to what Miyazaki showed us - but it's just fucking Wales.

[misteria247]

I'm realizing that Stan is actually incredibly smart. Like in a Ford kind of way to some extent.

Like yes Stan's street smart and life smart but he's also got the smarts that Ford's praised for. Because he had rebuilt the portal and figured out his brother's notes and equations.

Like do you know how hard math is on Ford and Fiddleford's level of expertise??? How complicated and delicate it is????? Especially the kind that brings portals to life???? And Stan figured it out. Had taught himself to read and comprehend these difficult things. Difficult things that requires college degrees in science and mathematics.

And Stan did this on an incomplete high school grade level of academics.

That's fucking nuts. Sure it took 30 years but he learned it. By himself, can you imagine how frustrated he got, teaching himself Ford's educational level??? Using his mechanical skills of fixing his car to be up to par to Fiddleford's impressive craftsmanship????

And I can just see how Ford and Fiddleford react post apocalypse. Ford doing equations and science stuff and talking while Fiddleford listens and gives his input when Stan pipes up unintentionally and puts his hat into the ring. And it's mathematically sound?? And these two men are just blown away cuz what the actual hell?? Ford's immediately questioning Stan, wanting to hear his thoughts while Fiddleford watches impressed and Stan's mortified and a bit overwhelmed. Or Fiddleford working on something and Ford's watching him when Stan points out a better way to make a part work and Fidds is like omg thank you Stanley??? And Ford's looking at his little brother dumbfounded and itching to bomb him with questions and whatnot.

Stan never knows peace afterwards.

[quadrantadvisor]

Thinking about DP x DC Jason Todd being a revenant again. Here's my scenario. Jason gets called that by some ghost. He's like "what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" He's heard the term before but he doesn't know any actual lore. He googles it. He scrolls past the Leonardo DiCaprio bear movie. He opens the wiki. Sees the words "animated corpse" and gets a chill diwn his spine. He starts reading the first section.

He closes Wikipedia.

That night he has a nightmare that his family buried him, again, this time with precautions. He wakes up in his own grave, full of stones, too heavy to move, to scream.

[taashyvashedan]

- Walk It Off -

The relationship between Lucanis and Taash is one of an extremely patient mentor and an eager and willing student. If Taash was injured, Lucanis would have the utmost faith in their ability to push through the discomfort and get back to what they do best.

Of course, Spite would interject but everyone ignores him anyway.

The Spanish phrase “Sana, sana, colita de rana” is a common saying used by parents in Latino communities to comfort children who have been hurt or fallen.

I love the fact that Lucanis interjects Spanish into his conversations with various companions. As someone who deeply understands 'code-switching,' it's extremely endearing to see him 'slip.'

[tourettesdog]

I am begging people to be normal about completed fics, and in particular one shots.

I am begging people to stop demanding more from authors, and insisting that one shots need to be longer or have sequels.

I don't think yall understand how many fanfic authors are one more "where's the rest of it?" comment away from throwing out any plans they might have had to continue an idea.

Unless an author like specifically says they might write more for an idea, just-- assume something marked as completed is complete, and respect it as it stands, please.

[unicornpopcorn14]

So we all know by now that Dazai is comfortable enough around Chuuya to show nervousness/worry.

Enough times for Chuuya to pick up on that pattern. The pattern, may I remind you, that doesn't have evident correlation to either nervousness or worry to most people. One that can even be interpreted as misplaced given the situation.

Which means that Dazai has done this in front of Chuuya so often, that Chuuya at first was hella confused, before he finally made a connection between when and why it happens. And still remembered that connection after four years of separation. Which gets us to my point:

What if this isn't the only emotion Dazai displays weirdly?

What if he has multiple unconventional patterns he displays for sadness, frustration, content, or disgust? The times he really feels them, and they become too strong for him to just deal with normally? What if these are the only times he's actually being genuine with his emotions?

And Chuuya is the only one who is familiar with them all?

Dazai would be jumping rope and Chuuya would be like, "quit sulking, let's get icecream"

Dazai hanging upside down on the couch and Chuuya going, "It's okay, mackerel. You can cry."

Dazai actually crying, full on heart-wrenching sobs, and Chuuya unironically going, "What, good news?"

It's just... comforting, for one person in Dazai's life to read him like a book. Everyone else would look at him like he's crazy, displaying wrong emotions/behaviors at the wrong time, but Chuuya knows that it's just how he processes feeling properly, and thus he's the only one Dazai can count on to put things into context and understand, which makes him display them even more openly.

Because Chuuya never shamed him for his quirks, as much as Dazai never did his.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

real talk having the 2nd worst new years eve yet 🤢🤢🤢 (throat infection, twisted neck, banged-about-foot, ego AND the rest o' me all bruised like misjuggled peaches 🍑🍑🍑)

im bent outa shape and suspectin the universe owes me 8 buck if anyone wannsa chip in

[lazylittledragon]

'i'll just do a couple of doodles of mombin™/platonic stobin parents' nevermind, borderline graphic novel

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Look what we've become.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[marskid11]

love is pretty stupid

[tackykachowch]

Silco SO should've haunted the narrative in s2 I can't stress this enough. Like, we knew Vander, Mylo and Claggor only for 3 episodes, but their presence was felt aaaall throughout s1. And now you're telling me that a PRIMARY ANTAGONIST of s1, a leader of Zaun, Jinx's dad and The person who started the negotiations with Piltover for Zaun's independence only got a couple of mentions?? Which aren't even relevant to the plot or character motivations??? Are you LEGIT FOR REAL kidding me???? I still can't believe this happened chat.

He's literally a part of the main cast. He literally was present in every single episode of s1. And again, given just How Much was tied directly to him his death should've had just. Massive consequences. For almost every single character. And yet.

My honest reaction to this information: