#like. stop being poetic. go back to being scary

[redflagshipwriter]

Hi, it's Tim (just Tim) chapter 6

Masterpost

San Francisco was a breath of fresh air. It would have been better if Dick wasn’t shepherding him there like the world’s most anxious and chatty herding dog. Tim halfway wanted to make a break for it to see if Dick would bark at him.

He nobly resisted the urge. He actually hadn’t gotten in trouble for going no contact. Incredibly, Bruce hadn’t noticed that he had been with Superboy. He must really be wound up about the Red Hood.

Speaking of- “What’s the Red Hood done that makes B think I’m the target to be concerned about?” Tim asked.

Dick looked a little ill. He clearly didn’t want to answer. “Well, he’s been pretty clear,” he said apologetically. “Very clear. A lot of metaphors about breaking off your wings that B is taking pretty seriously. It’s like English class all over again,” he complained. Dick scrunched up his face and gestured wildly with his long elegant hands. “There was this like, poetic reference that I didn’t get, but it was about stomping on a bird and crushing all their bones under your boot. B had to look it up.” He cocked his head to the side at the end.

…This guy was referencing poets B didn't know offhand, and they were meant to think he was some big scary thug?

“...So he’s, uh, well-read, then,” Tim concluded, adding it to the very short list of things they knew about the Red Hood. “Loser.”

“We shouldn’t say that,” Dick demurred, which meant ‘lol yeah.”

Tim gave the older bird a judgemental look for even trying as Dick typed in pass codes for Titan Tower. That was their whole thing as Bats. They took information and made deductions. This particular deduction made him feel cockier. While the big bad Red Hood had been wasting time reading, Tim had been studying the blade and uh, making out with a really hot guy. Heh. He couldn't hold in the self satisfied smirk. Hood was a loser. He could use his time much better than by reading moldy old books.

Dick stayed long enough to get Tim settled, but he was clearly anxious to get back to Gotham.

Tim was torn. On the one hand, he did not like essentially being benched. But… Well, he wasn't benched outside of Gotham, Tim decided, wandering through the shared kitchen and rummaging around for a snack. He could go on any Titans mission that came up. He opened the fridge and squinted suspiciously at something in the vegetable crisper.

He had always assumed someone really liked potatoes. But knowing what he did now, he wondered if those were Kon’s groceries. Did the guy just eat raw fruit like some kind of lunatic?

…Maybe no one kept potatoes there after all. He had thought it was weird since he never really saw anyone cook. Tim picked the suspect up and sniffed at it. This ugly thing was a fruit?

Well. He was brave and he was bold. Tim bit through the skin. His teeth sank in with much less resistance than he expected: not a raw potato. It tasted okay. This was Kon’s favorite flavor? Tim had another bite and mulled it over. It was alright. It wasn’t exactly bacon and artichoke pizza or sour cherry candy, though.

Huh. He shut the fridge door with his hip and made his way to his room, planning to drop off his travel bag.

A window opened and slammed shut nearby. Tim detoured to see who it was. His heart beat hard against his chest when he rounded the corner.

“Superboy,” he said casually, as if he hadn't been making out with the guy a couple hours ago.

“Hey, Rob.” Kon breezed past, obviously lost in thought. He stopped midair and frowned. “Do you smell mango?”

Tim hid the half eaten fruit in his utility belt. “No. Maybe you're just hungry.”

Gaslight gatekeep girlbossing worked, as always. Kon let out a “huh,” cocked his head, and zipped away to the kitchen.

Ah, hell. Tim realized he was smiling like a dope to the empty hallway. He wiped the expression from his face and hoped that no one ever reviewed that section of security tape. How embarrassing.

He hid away in his room for a while, letting tactics and plans stew away in his mind. He was hyper aware of the fact that Kon was somewhere in the tower. Was anyone else? He didn't know. He should check.

While he was at it, he should try and hack into whatever B was hiding about the Red Hood on the bat computer. Tim spun idly in his desk chair as he thought it over. Bruce was being twitchy. He wanted Tim so far away from the situation that Tim knew in his gut it would eventually be his problem. That was how this shit always worked; the most dramatic thing possible would happen.

He emerged from his room to find Kon in some kind of argument with Cassie. Tim decided to stay way the fuck away from that. He steered to the living room. Raven looked up from her book, expression flatly unamused.

“Robin.” She acknowledged. Then she looked away.

She was in a great mood, then.

He checked through the logs: it was just the four of them. As Tim watched, Cassie's status dinged to display ‘out of the tower’.

Just the three of them, then. And Raven wasn't going to come seek anyone out.

Tim went Kon hunting. Kon was sprawled out in his room, tossing something up and down. It glittered where it caught the air.

“Superboy,” he said, leaning on the doorframe casually. Did it look casual? Did it look douchey? Tim stood up straight before Kon looked up.

“Hey, Rob,” Kon said. He flashed his toothiest grin at Tim. Fuck, he was pretty. “Did you want something?”

“Yeah, I wanted to talk. Can I come in?”

Kon sat up on his elbows. “Come right the hell in, my dude.” He cocked his head to the side and a curl fell over his face. “Everything alright?” A smile tugged one half of his mouth up mischievously. “Come sit on my lap and tell me all about it.”

The thing was that Kon said shit like that all the time. He said it to Tim, he said it to Cassie, he said it to any number of civilians. Tim had thought that Kon was just being kind of a bitch to him.

“Thanks,” he said easily, and sat with his knees on either side of Kon’s thighs.

Kon’s mouth fell open. Tim waited, but no sound came out.

“I was actually wondering- you say things like that to me a lot,” Tim continued, feeling very smug. Haha, Kon hadn't just been needling him. He'd been pulling pigtails. He wanted Tim, what a loser. “A guy starts to get the impression that you're interested. And…” he dragged his gaze pointedly down Kon’s perfect body. “I'm not disinterested,” he finished coyly.

“Robin.” Kon swallowed visibly. “I uh. I'm really flattered.”

Ah. Fuck. Tim had a very bad feeling.

“I'm kind of seeing someone at the moment.” Kon’s voice cracked. “If- if I hadn't been, I would be all over this. But I am. So.” His hands hovered uselessly a few inches from Tim’s sides.

Well then. Tim slid off Kon’s lap. He didn't let howling frustration show on his face. He was cock blocking himself. “I see,” he said simply. “No worries. I'll see you around.”

“Right.” Kon’s voice cracked again. He shoved his hands in his pockets. His eyes were wild.

Wow. Okay, so life isn't fair. It was good to know. Tim sulked his way back to his room. Well no, actually, he hated this information a lot. But it was useful for his prediction models. He should have known better than to think things would work out.

On the one hand, Kon was apparently loyal to his flavor of the week. Tim could choose to appreciate that, since he was flavor for early September.

Or he could be mad that he'd apparently chosen the wrong ID to flirt with Kon under. He paced an angry circuit in his room around the pile of things he was going to eventually reconstruct. Hell. Fuck. This sucked. Kon had a crush on Robin, the guy he actually knew. What a wasted opportunity!

He calmed down enough to think.

Of course that was when sirens went off. Tim booked it to the landing pad, pulling up the alert on his wrist computer on the way.

They had a mission. Okay. Tim compartmentalized away all the mortification. He could deal with it after they got back.

[vivianquill]

They were a pack, not a hoard.

You know, there's something almost poetic about the boogeyman infection from session 7.

To me it wasn't a hoard of zombies, it wasn't a mindless hivemind of drones, it wasn't even a posse- a mob of borderline reds.

It was a pack. A pack of rabid wolves, vicious and bloodthirsty and hungry.

The way each early addition to the pack was ready to turn around and bite their new alpha in Bdubs, Scar, Pearl, Etho; the way they ran like Pearl and Scar; they went looking for comfort with Impulse and Scar and Skizz; And again, in Scar's case especially-- they tried to go back to the survivors. But that didn't work, not once the survivors caught on to what was happening.

There's something in the way that each of them wanted to hurt the one who killed them, only to be called off by Gem and kept in line as they hunted for more.

The only thing keeping the pack together was Gem's seer force of will, at least until they grew so large and forgot about everything else except the need to kill, to hunt, to cannibalize their own.

There's something poetic about the cursed ignoring Martyn, the only one to start red, the only one to start the session as a 'dog.' There's something poetic in the survivors tolerating him at their fringes, like tossing food to a dog you find on the street, but not letting them too close, because they're still a stray dog-- something you can never fully trust.

From his perspective, he was so out of the loop and had no idea about any of the curse until the survivors told him.

It was interesting to see how the alliances broke down. And not just the alliances, but the people themselves:

How Gem ignored Scott-- until she went red. Gem used Scott, and then turned on him the moment it made sense. She was the ringleader, the alpha of the pack, patient zero.

How Impulse not only embraced the curse-- He begged to be infected. He volunteered. He was one of the more dogged (hah) of the crew, in it from the beginning and already half-mad with bloodlust already from his previous tasks. Taking hearts from Skizz, the fake-boogey task, the games of chicken, being unable to kill ANYTHING for an entire session, etc. He still ignored Scott, though. even letting him get away when they were alone. And he was the most threatening, always coming in from a direction no one expected.

How Bdubs didn't want to kill Pearl or Joel-- He didn't have to, Pearl died to Gem and Joel to Etho and Scar and Gem. He was so hesitant to kill Impulse, asking him again and again if he really wanted this. Bdubs was also the first to find Etho, the first to welcome him to the pack.

But Etho still remained loyal to Cleo and Grian, not attacking them, not killing them, not ratting them out, nothing. He even jumped in front of an arrow meant for Cleo. He brought up a warden with Pearl, but that's just chaos, and you can hear a warden from miles away. And with all his experience in Decked Out-- well. Wardens aren't that scary. Not for him, not for a lot of the more Hardcore Decked Out players-- Gem, Grian, Tango, Pearl, Impulse, and even Bdubs and Cleo and Scar, to an extent.

Cleo going out on her own terms, instead of letting herself be killed. Her checking in on Scott, on letting Bigb hide with them, even when Bigb ratted them out (getting himself killed). She was running and hiding for so much of the last half of the session. Her sharing her dogs, making sure everyone else got some, fighting back when cornered and hitting like a TRUCK. Letting Joel leave after he respawned on the shrine for his last time.

Grian hiding on top of the tower-- Watching. No one thought to look up. Being the first to figure out the curse, being helpless to stop it, causing Etho's death-- and then denying it.

Pearl going 5am feral, not targeting Cleo until Cleo killed her dogs, pulling out a warden with Etho-- and then another on her own. Hiding her first dogs, making sure they stayed safe. Not helping to kill Joel, but happily scooping up the zombie flesh and the xp left behind.

Joel not wanting to hide, thinking that he'd be fine-- until he wasnt. Wanting to go out with a bang and flooding the server with zombies-- but once he was got he didn't hesitate to throw his lot in with the pack.

Scar. There's a lot to say about Scar. Forced to push everyone away from multiple tasks, going feral on his own without an alliance to hold him steady, holding his own with his bow and killing not one, not two but THREE people. Trying to go back to the survivors, burning Gem's book, running away and turning to shoot the pack that was trying to collect him. Getting sent into the nether first, almost getting that hit on Cleo that would have turned her bloodthirsty and rabid just like the rest of them-- Everyone disregarded him. He has the biggest target on his back, the pack only tolerated him because he was one of them. Almost like Martyn with the survivors.

Scott, oh poor Scott. The first to die that day and one of the only two to complete his task. He was used, kept sheltered by Impulse and Gem, abandoned in the grove. He was hiding alone in the dark while Cleo drowned and Bigb was burnt to death. He had no idea.

Speaking of Bigb. While it wasn't his yell that allowed them to be found-- it was one of the main factors. He's so confusing to everyone, going mad down in his backrooms alone and not quite counting himself a part of the heart foundation. Screaming "BANISHED" at everyone who even looks at him wrong. The sheer irony of Tango's death: The end glitch, his wolf, the fire-- everything.

And the rest of the heart foundation, Skizz attacking Joel and Scar, even when they were running away-- it cost him his life. Immediately turning around and attacking, screaming to Tango and Bigb in a familiar refrain-- ("There's a way we can still be friends-- You could join me." turned into) "COME TO THIS SIDE-- I want you back, buddy."

Tango, back from his amnesiacold --amnesiafood-poisoning as it were-- confused and getting teased and trying to fulfill everyone's wishes 'wrong'. Being killed by Bigb's wolf, getting confused as being 'one of them'. Getting thrown into the deep end at having to pull a warden out of his lake and point it elsewhere-- A victim of tragedy and circumstance. Not to mention the heart getting burnt down. Maybe the canary's bad luck is rubbing off-- just not onto the person we thought it was. After all-- He and Jimmy have always been together in being doomed by the narrative.

[us-the-voices-and-more-voices-2]

Batman au but Thomas Wayne lives

Thomas lives, and well Bruce has his Uber traumatised ready to murder people father.

Thomas becomes Batman, his favourite weapon is the gun that killed his wife and a scalpel bc he’s poetic like that.

Bruce being literally 8-10 is like

“dad where are you going don’t leave me!”

He has like really bad attachment issues now.

“Son I have to avenge your mother”

“dad, what-what are you going to do? Can I come with you?”

“no you can’t”

Bruce follows along anyway sneaking out to find his dad, he watches him suit up in his Batman suit it looks scary as fuck but little Bruce keeps following

(Thomas doesn’t have like Uber amazing fighting skills he’s just strong and a doctor”

little Bruce keeps following along making sure he doesn’t lose his dad, until they come to a weird warehouse. It’s old rundown and looks abandoned, Thomas enters little Bruce is still scared but he can’t leave his dad.

Thomas enters the warehouse and pulls the gun from his holster. And starts staring at the man who killed his wife.

“You thought I wouldn’t come back for you huh? How does it feel to be in the same situation again?” Thomas says darkly and loud.

little Bruce is off to the side confused why his dad is doing this, and starts sneaking towards him.

“Man I- I- don’t know what you want! It was a hit! It was a hit!”

“You know what I want.. I want your blood spilled. But it won’t be quick no, it will hurt. It will hurt so badly you’d wish you were dead.”

“Please- ple- I will give you anything you want! Money! Bitches! Smokes! Whatever! Just leave me alone!”

little Bruce has snuck up and starts asking his dad what’s he’s doing?

“Dad! Wh- why are you threatening that man? You, you said all life was-was sacred! That’s not okay! You shouldn’t um kill people! You should turn him over to the police!”

“Bruce? What are you doing here?! You should be in bed!”

“Dad I can’t sleep. I don’t wanna lose you like mom”

Thomas stares at Bruce and back at the man who killed his wife, and he sighs.

“Okay Bruce, okay. Your lucky, your so lucky don’t you ever tell anyone you saw me or your life is as good as gone, trust me I follow through with my promises.”

“Yay! What do, we do now?”

“Well Bruce we are going to take this bastard to the police, and then we are going to have a LONG conversation about what you just did”

“Jesus what the fuck are you doing”

Thomas grabs a tranq and stabs it into the man.

“Okay dad!”

-

flash forward a couple years, Bruce is 12 and he is very very determined to follow his dad out on patrol.

he even made his own version of the bat suit with Alfred’s help!

he dubs himself “batboy”

and starts to follow his dad, his dad isn’t as stealthy as him he’s been practicing for a while now.

but he follows, his little black cape and gray and yellow suit modeled after his favourite show gray ghost, and a domino mask cover his face.

he can barely keep up with his dad but he does, following him through alleyways and up. Eventually he stops and he goes up to his dad to hug him.

“Bruce! What are you doing here?”

“No! Dad call me ‘batboy’ I thought that.. if I made a costume I could join you!”

Thomas stares at him, he looks adorable and so happy.

this isn’t the first time he’s done this and it won’t be the last, the kid sneaky and persistent this is the 4th time this week he’s snuck off to go find him.

maybe it won’t be so bad, but he just can’t fathom anything happening to Bruce.

“Okay ‘batboy’ you can only come on patrol when you finish your schoolwork and are able to fight. I know you will keep following me again and again but it’s just not safe, go home buddy, go home.”

Bruce sulks and heads home, but with a new goal. Learn how to fight! And finish all his school work, if he does it all he’ll be able to work with his dad so much faster!

so we have a training montage of Bruce being taught by Alfred and him getting self defence lessons and learning how to use different weapons and stuff.

by the time he’s 13 he’s completed all his schoolwork and has gotten into college, and learned a ton of different fighting styles and tactics.

he also started learning about forensics and criminal justice and sciences, his dad may be a doctor but he’s not really good with the whole forensics stuff.

he actually just passed it off to Bruce to Learn about, Bruce is estatic about being able to work with his dad.

eventually Bruce tries again and sneaks out to follow his dad, his dad is going to take down a mafia deal. And Bruce feels comfortable with going and helping his dad.

he arrived shortly after his dad and sneaked into the battle field he started running at a goon and thumped HARD against them. Whilst laughing and turning to face his dad.

“Hiya dad!”

“BATBOY WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?”

“I finished my homework. And I know how to fight people now, I did everything you asked of me so why am I not allowed to help you?”

Bruce said while jumping onto someone and start punching their face.

“BATBOY I DONT WANT YOU HERE IT’S TOO DANGEROUS!”

“Dad, this is nothing this is a Tuesday for me!”

Thomas scowls, but let’s him continue to fight.

they quickly defeated the mafia and high-five!

“Maybe I was wrong batboy, maybe you can help me fight crime.. but there’s still more to learn, and I’d prefer if you stuck to your studies.”

“Aw, really wanted to help you dad!”

too be added idk, here you go please write more about them

[namorslutfanfiction]

Imagine Rafa falling in love with you once he realizes Sofia is a cheating whore who picked Amado over him.

He's angry and heart broken when he sees Sofia and Amado kiss at the club. But instead of confronting her he just drinks more, snorts and smokes, and parties harder.

He's stumbling to his car and runs into you on your way out from bartending at the club. You take pity on the drunk, high, and crying Rafa mostly so he doesn't try to drive drunk.

You sit the lunk in your passenger seat and listen to him wax poetic about some girl named Sofia. From what you can tell he was cheated on in some fashion. You offer to drop him off somewhere when his friends appear near his car looking for him. You leave him with them and go home thinking about the sad and handsome man.

The next day Rafa goes back to the club to meet the woman he had almost cried like a baby to. But when he sees you he's immediately obsessed. You were his new muse.

He would come to the club every night to talk to you as you served drinks. He would stay for hours just to see you for a moment even if the club was busy. With his money and flashy style and the posse he had everyone knew he was there just to flex.

Rafa stopped noticing when Sofia was at the club because he only had eyes for you. When he refused her more than three times in one night she got angry and threatened to hurt you. Rafa made sure Sofia knew that if she even tried he'd kill her.

When a young guy started being handsy with you Rafa pulls a gun so fast that it's scary, and hot. Now everyone calls him your narco boyfriend. You don't mind. It keeps you safe and the threat gets you more tips. You still don't fall for Rafa's charms.

Then one day you're not behind the bar. You quit and were apparently out celebrating graduating university. Rafa sends his men to go find you. And when they do Rafa comes running.

Seeing you in sexy club clothes instead of the plain black bartender uniform sets him off. He finds you on the dance floor and pulls you from the girls you're dancing with. When you realize who it is you just smile and pull him close.

It's your turn to be drunk. And soon with Rafa's help you're sky high. Intoxicating. He wants you to go home with him and for once you let him. He's giddy and so needy for you.

But you make him wait. You make him tour you around his big house and you make jokes about him being a narco. You make him show you his weed and coke. You make him wait until you can tell he's barely keeping it together.

Then when he thinks you might just fall asleep on his couch from drunkenness you pull him on top of you and kiss him.

Rafa is gone to the world. Completely melting into you. Who cares about anyone else. You were here with him.

I love him. I might start writing for Rafa.

Maybe. Idk. It would end up being even more stuff.

[raina-clipse423]

Cat Doki! (Pt 3)

Here's Monika Sayori and Natsuki!

*Feral sounds and pointing aggressively* HERRR!! It's cat Yuri~! :DD

She's a lynx point Siamese × Himalayan, her default is Himalayan, but get her comfy she turns into a Siamese lmao. She was the first one I made, and her warrior name basically came by me automatically especially after learning her name's etymology, and it's LilyPool!!

I also forgot to put extra descriptions of what fur markings they specifically have, Sayori is an agouti/ticked tabby, Natsuki is a spotted tabby!

(warriors info for those interested below the cut)

A reserved decipherer from ThunderClan. It's one of the rarest clan roles since a healer is usually capable of deciphering prophecies on their own, but not every healer can decipher their prophecies quickly–honestly most of them takes some time, but once LilyPool got given this responsibility, Thunderclan gets an up to date prophecy very quickly and they're able to maintain their clan quite well.

It's well known how timid she is, especially in clan gatherings where she stays somewhere, nervously shuffling her paws. She's often found observing many things be it a small animal or her surroundings, like her head is up there in the clouds. It must be this quite times she has that made her the smartest cat of the clan.

They'd say she has the wisdom and knowledge of an Elder–won't be helped that she spends time with them often, even if she doesn't have any duty in the Elders den–they'd come to her if an Elder wasn't being to helpful about something, then she chatters away. For quite a long period of time, until she catches herself then apologizes for talking too much.

LilyPool is considered the prettiest cat in all of Thunderclan for her elegant demeanor and silky long fur, and is also known to have the sharpest and most beautiful pearly claws. She always takes the time to clean them, she never fought and would resort to gently talking her way out of tension, and she doesn't hunt that often either–as she stays most of her time in the Healers den, so her claws would sparkle as she stretches then they catch the light of the sun or moon. They're quite long too to the point they stick out of her paws even if sheathed. She uses these sturdy claws to carve pictures from prophecies on trees and wood barks, or some other poetic things that some of her clanmates stop to admire every once in a while.

However, because of these claws, many outsiders who crosses paths with her by chance would bristle–how much would those claws hurt? Definitely 10 times the normal amount. So they'd turn away immediately, though in reality LilyPool was more afraid of them and she does feel bad very often, especially when this underweight looking kit carrying so many plants on her sprinted away, dropping some of it. She tried to tell her about it but that kit was scary fast. There was one outsider that wasn't afraid of her claws, showing off that she has as equally well cared claws on her too–and this she-cat was very clean and smelled a little strange. But she didn't stay long to chat and said she needed to go back to her... "House folks"? Before they get worried.

... what's a house folk?

[fishcop]

may i request your full, unfiltered thoughts on william wisp?

oh absolutely absolutely you can

this question has fully opened up flood gates in my head you don’t even know ‼️

OK SO WILLIAM WISP HES GREAT HES MY FAVORITE JRWI CHARACTER

he isn’t the archetype of the one smart character because he’s wayyyyy too cringefail for that

spoilers of course of course

I love love love his parallels with Dakota (Dakota who’s so morally set in the right and rigid direction vs William who sways on the line so much that it feels like the tightrope metaphor wasn’t just for losing control of his powers, it’s also about how with just a few actions his morals can sway very quickly as well and even tumble off the deep end.)

his parallels with vyncent too and how he’s running away from his past while vyncent a trying his best go get back to it! the scene with Kamuri broke me dude you don’t even knowwwww

it hit way to close to home with the ‘feeling like you’re inherently worse than everyone else, and letting that stop you from feeling like you can do anything.’ THE WAY HE LOST AND GOT HIS POWERS ABCK IS SO. FUCKING COOL TO ME

ITS ALL DESERVED AND FOUGHT AND CLAWED FOR!! HES the one who in the end, has to make the choice to keep going even despite his chances being handed to him on a platter earlier on. All his revives were given to him for free which he took for granted and it’s sooo clear in the finale when he finally notices that. ghostknife is so funny to me yes little guy go go pine for a whole campaign‼️

I wholeheartedly support Williams rights and very, very long list of intriguing wrongs

if there were like a moral scale or something he’d be so grounded compared to the other two but like so grounded that his moral scale goes into the negatives and that’s so cool because I love characters with flaws that are their fault, that they have made real horrible mistakes. I love characters that stray the line of ‘I couldn’t have done anything different’ while knowing full well that they could’ve but can just simmer in regret. I love characters with problems that you can’t say ‘it’s not your fault’ but they still deserve a chance anyways

I love how he gets confident when he’s in control, and he deals with fear by being in control of it, and as long as he’s master of the horrors the horrors aren’t so bad. Cause like in season one, it’s scary that mal has Kamuri in a bottle and what he could do with it… but if William knew, if he had control, then it wouldn’t be so terrifying. The bell tech ordeal was so stressful but he’s only calm when he is the one pulling the strings. I think this has something to do with how little he was in deadwood pre death- so many ghosts! So if he tries to rationalize it becomes less scary. Especially with the prime force and heroes, they keep him and pd in the dark and he’s terrified of not knowing what’s going on because look at what happened to Ashe! Where were the heroes! In his mind it’s flawed but it would be less flawed if he had more controllll

THIS ALSO GOES FOR THE WISPS! THEYRE unpredictable they’re finicky they’re tricksters (heh) and he’s scared of his own powersss. Allow me to be poetic and metaphorical for a sec because they’re very literally like fire (the wisps,) unruly and unpredictable but William is so fixated on how they could burn him that the warmth, the light, all the good elements of a flame are lost in fear. FEAR OF DEATH, FEAR OF NOT COMING BACK, FEAR OF LOSING AND LOSING FINITELYYY

AND NOW HES IN A PLACE WHERE HE KNOWS HES STRONG ENOUGH TO EXPLORE THE WORLD AND HIS POWERS AFTER BEING TRAPPED IN HIS HEAD FOR SO LONG

YEP THATS MY THOUGHTS. SUPER DUPER UNFILTERED AND CONFUSING AND DISCONNECTED BUT WHAT CAN I SAY I SPIN JRWI CHARACTERS AROUND IN MY HEAD LIKE A MICROWAVE

thanks for the ask :D

[inacastleimadie]

Are you dating anybody?(just trying to make you mad)

That is actually up in the air rn 🤕

I'm between a rock and a hard place. I genuinely love her so much but we kinda had a rocky phase where she really distanced herself and it kinda put me in a weird place mentally where I started to doubt things with us.. then, Erika found her way back into my life at that period of time and all of those old feelings came back, and now they're even stronger. El is being so understanding and it's so difficult. Realistically, she's a whole ocean away & we'd still have a few years of working really hard before we'd actually be together. I genuinely love them both and it's incredibly painful.

I know what the realistic choice is, but, it will absolutely kill me losing El. It's so confusing. El is genuinely so important to me, but sometimes I think I'm not as important to her... And idk if that's the truth, or just my head hc she has a hard time showing affection regularly. She's INCREDIBLY affectionate when she's tired lol.

It just feels like she's someone different now, and she's changed SO MUCH (for the better) but I feel like those changes kinda brought her away from me. When we first met she was crazy hypersexual like me, super charming and affectionate, and now it's like I gotta beg for her to be flirty or send pics and even then she always says she'll do it later and later never comes. I know it's not all me, but my mind tells me it is...

Jesus Christ I'm sorry for dumping that I'm just really really upset about the whole situation. I've never genuinely loved more than one person before. I keep blaming myself like I did something wrong by even talking to Erika again but it was supposed to be just a quick catch up.. once we started talking daily it really started progressing it feels like we're picking up where we left off. Like, El was just a kid when Erika and I were in each other's lives lmao like I've known this girl for fuckin 13 years man. She was in my life when my parents were alive and I was a punk ass hoodrat teenager. I feel a big part of my soul healing when she's in my life, like a big portion of my pain and confusion over the years was rooted in losing her. I genuinely forgot how important she was to me bc of certain life stuff going on and whatever. So, it all started to come together again.. and the hardest part is she is just as crazy about me. We are on the EXACT same level. I genuinely think she's my twin flame. I've said that about a million girls to make myself feel like I've made the right choice with them .. but when you look into the actual process of a twin flame relationship it's scary how relatable it is. Like, we had stopped talking for at least 10 years.. and we are the EXACT same person. It's CREEPY. She collects oddities and loves concerts and music, she is a fuckin pervert but has never played out those fantasies irl (just like me) she is obsessed with morbid and dark things. She's very charming and poetic even tho she doesn't know it. She gives me the love I give her and that's the most important thing to me in life. I want it to be an infinity loop ♾️ not a set of testies (0 o)

The love Erika has for me is unmatched. Like, she's flying me out to Ohio and driving me halfway across the state to see my grandma because she knows it's important to me... I genuinely can't think of another person I've EVER loved who would do the same ..

Not to mention Erika is a manager at a really high end fashion store and makes bank, I can honestly see her becoming a GM for the entire store. - I won't have to worry about being the sole provider in the relationship and that is very important to me. It's ruined too many relationships in the past.

[antique-lamplight]

ok so like! fate has a bunch of historical blorbos that can range anywhere from meticulously researched to kind of throwing things at the wall, so I figure I'll start with one that's a remarkably accurate historical portrayal and probably relevant to your interests -

Vlad the Impaler!

In case you're coming in with zero context - most fate franchises revolve around a Holy Grail War, where mages summon historical figures are summoned in a variety of classes (saber, archer, lancer, rider, caster, assassin, berserker are the classics) for a chance to win the Holy Grail, which will grant the mage and/or their summoned guy one wish.

Vlad's interesting because two different entries in the franchise did different takes on him around the same time. This kind of thing usually gets justified by "historical figures getting summoned in different class types manifest different personality traits," but this is one of the rare times it happened because two people went all in on a Vlad rather than working it out beforehand.

Vlad the Berserker was originally summoned in Fate/Apocrypha, where the Grail War takes place in Romania. As a Romanian national hero, Vlad shows up with a huge power boost and in his aspect as a king; noble, immensely proud of his country's progress, acts as a leader in the grail war, and is open about how he decided to walk a brutal and bloody path to gain Romania's independance from the Ottomons. The only thing that can snap him out of his regal manner is the book Dracula; he wants to use the Holy Grail's wish to yeet it out of existance. He can bear his own sins just fine, stop conflating him with that creep in the vampire book!!

Unfortunately, due to the Plot, he's forced to take on more vampiric traits. When he returns in Fate Grand Order, he's... dealing with it. Vlad (berserker) tends to hang out with others who have been hit with the "Vampire" stick despite not being a vampire, like Elizabeth Bathory (age 14, trying desperately not to grow up into the scary murder lady), and Carmilla (Elizabeth's scary murder lady form), trying to support them also getting away from the yay murder life.

(He does needlework as a hobby, giving FGO's lead a plushie goat/good luck charm as a Valentine's gift and helping make costumes when people get fancy.)

Vlad the Lancer, on the other hand, is the manifestation of Vlad Tepes as a warrior. He's a little too excited to fight evil or...anyone, really; some historical figures are affected by their historical reputations, and the whole Impaler-Dracula combo really jacked up the homicide and Death To The Unjust thing to eleven. However, he's also exceedingly loyal and even more stubborn than the other Vlad.

He's first summoned in Fate Extra by a woman who's significant (normal) war trauma means she can only express love by attempting cannibalism (as you do??). Vlad Stands With His Problematic Wife, of course he'll help her get her Grail wish of makng everyone Be Like That! what's he supposed to do, let her starve?

In his later appearances in Fate Grand Order, he's mellowed out some, and his extreme loyalty is now with FGO's lead. He's the Bad Uncle to Vlad-Berserker's Good Uncle, scolding Elizabeth when she's going off the rails. He Misses His Wife Tails.

(For Valentines, he gives FGO's lead a homemade steak sandwich, harhar. He also gardens in his spare time.)

oh my god this is actually SO cool??? if you dont mind i am ABSOLUTELY using this because frankly the amount of detail helps a lot

i also like it when the Public Perception of a guy influences who that guy comes back as. its poetic in a way

[jedi-lothwolf]

Whumptober Day 12: Red

Fandom: Spider-verse

Warning: Violence

Summary: Miles used to love red. After becoming a hero he starts to hate it.

  Red used to be one of Miles's favorite colors. That was until he became a hero. Red became something he avoided seeing.

    Red always meant something bad. Red was the color of blood, of anger and hatred. But I was also one of his colors. In some twisted way it meant both death and hope.

    It wasn't something he found as beautiful as he once did. The red in the sky or painted on the wall used to make Miles happy. It used to be beautiful. Now it was terrifying.

    Sometimes beautiful things are meant to be scary. But not this. Deaths like these weren't beautiful and they weren't poetic. Nothing like that could ever be poetry. Yet people still made it into it.

    Words on a paper, the last few words being in red ink. They made Miles hate poetry. He couldn't stand red. Not anymore.

    Red things had no right to be so pretty anymore. The red sky only made him think of two things; blood and beauty. They were a terrible mix that should never go hand in hand.

    But they did. They skipped down the high school halls and giggled as they entered their class. The red on Miles's suit mirrored the purple of his uncle's.

    The red on Miles's papers when he got them back made him wonder about the papers of all of the victims of the villain's attacks and his mistakes. Were they good? Did their teacher mark them in red? Like how death claimed them? He marked them in red.

    Miles didn't want to hate red, he didn't want to associate it with so many bad things. The more he tried to relate it to the beautiful things in his life, the less he could look at them.

    In a way, red became his least favorite color. He'd never see it the same. Ever.

    But red was also Peter B's color. That and blue. He wondered if he had this problem. The color red has never been a problem.

    Miles started to have a reaction to certain shades of red. He asked his teacher to mark his paper in a different color. When she asked why, he delicately danced around the point. He avoided his favorite shoes and took down one of his posters.

    However Miles tried to use his red pen as often as he could. 'Exposure therapy' he told himself. That came to a quick stop when the pen broke and red spilled all over his sketchbook. Just like it spilled from the victims.

    He cried, cleaning it up. He hid the red mug he used to use all the time. When his parents asked where it went he just said "I don't know."

    Red would never be the same for him. Miles didn't like that something so common as a primary color was a trigger for him. Why did it have to be his  favorite color? Why did he have to see so much blood? What did the villains get from so much death?

    All questions that Miles would never get an answer to. He would instead scribble them in red into his sketchbook. Closing the book Miles stood up. He tried to leave his room. As he opened the door his mother held out a red mug. "Here, since your favorite one got lost!" She smiled.

    Miles smiled. "Thank you." Why did it have to be red?

[wendys-ash]

daddy you forgot my FUCKING TUCKBOX 🤣

that dude in the pink shirt walking past Oliver

this part makes me remember my first day at uni WHICH WAS THE SAME YEAR 2006

oh look at Farleigh being unnecessarily rude as usual

FOOKIN ASK ME A SOOM, THEN! he’s so creepy

Oliver looks so beautiful in his tie and shirt and he’s got glasses on at the beginning where do they go later in the movie? Felix get him contacts?

Merseyside… that’s where the Beatles are from (by the way hello I like the Beatles) 🥰

Farleigh has a Lucozade.

The way the professor says “Frederica CAHtthn”

Oliver’s essay is so poetic! “To look as if it were alive,” I want him to write an essay about Sylvia Plath

Oh look at Farleigh being rude again. he’s wrong here. and Oliver’s essay style is POETIC.

“fucking loooooosers” MICHAEL EATS THE FUCKING CRUNCHIE THE WRONG WAY EW EW EW -

The cheeky Christmas song is surprisingly catchy!

Felix be like “siiiiiiighhhhhh” “siiiiiiighhhhh” big brown eyes

But look he’s so sweet “CHEERS OLLIE!” 😁

CanyougetmeanotherpintpleezOlivuh

Oh look at Farleigh forcing Oliver to buy the most expensive drink ever, even in 2007 it was like £6-7 for a Jägerbomb IIRC

THANK-YOU OLLEH whoa!

Oliver waking up and remembering and being all happy is so lovely

Omg this music is so beautiful, favourite part of the score I think

“I’ve not sucked any teachers off.” “Not yet, you ‘aven’t…” 😋 GET THAT SHIT OUT OF HERE FELIX JESUS

Ollie still has his glasses on when do they disappear

“Was it was it was it was it awful?” How many times did he say was it?

no one ever said chirpsing at my uni 😂 I did not go to Oxford

I think Oliver is wearing Felix’s hoodie because Jack Wills was quite sought after back then…

What if Felix looked outside and saw the cherry of Oliver’s ciggie in the dark, that’s fanfic fuel!

“UUUhm…”

IT’S DISGUSTIN FELIX

Ollie’s face after Felix yells at him

Fuucking wood fucking panelling

I don’t like this bit. 😠

Oh look at Farleigh, he’s actually got a nice cardigan on here!

The use of colour in this film drives me nuts, the blue and red light on Ollie’s face when he leaves the pub

From experience, drinking vodka like that at 18/19 most certainly leads to vomit in high places. Awful stuff.

More red. I want to go through the movie and go red red red red 😂 Felix has a red shirt on.

Fucking - I’ve historically been disgusted by men’s body hair but Ollie’s is… acceptable and by that I mean hot.

“Always check the sleeeeeeeeves!” He actually isn’t directly nasty here but still condescending

When they’re running to the bridge it’s one of the most beautiful shots in the movie. And when they’re standing by the bridge. it makes Barry’s eyes pop.

The way Ollie says “it’s not stupid. thank you.” no idea why that’s significant but I just love the way he says it.

“And I believed him.” You can never leave Saltburn, Ollie. Even if you leave that house, you will never leave that house. 🖤

Duncan. Is. So. Scary. What if he’s a ghost who comes with the house like in American Horror Story? Omg

Felix’s tour makes me so happy “Henry VIII’s sPUnk”

I wish we got a better look at Felix’s room. But the bathroom is where the magic happens.

“A sort of… hellish SQUOT.”

Venetia’s EYES and her TEETH and I want to know what she’s reading (or pretending to read)

They all throw innuendos at Oliver until James stops them also “oh my god she’ll die.” SHE FKN DOES DIE and Elspeth’s way of saying “drAping”.

Oh look at Farleigh being rude some more

“It’s rooooood!”

I forgot to check when Ollie’s glasses disappeared

The face Ollie makes after Felix says “Duncan will be thrilled.”

Of course he doesn’t have fucking CUFFLINKS FELIX

Love Pamela’s high collar feather thing here and also I love her hair

Venetia is perfect Venetia is perfect Venetia is perfect WHY DIDN’T OLLIE PUT SOME CLOTHES ON was he trying to show off his physique to Venetia?

“Sweet.” aw I love her

“Niiiiiight…” 😍😍😍😍

James says “morning,” so sweetly!

Oh look at Farleigh being rude again how the fuck was Oliver supposed to know how breakfast is served in Rich Land?

Venetia’s shirt is something I would wear.

“Look, Pamela.” “Oh nooo…”

Those eggs are really undercooked, I wouldn’t eat them either. They’re not over easy at all. They’re extremely sunny side up.

Sorry but Venetia’s legs and flowers in her hair she looks like Ophelia

EVERYONE was reading the last Harry Potter that summer and we all asked questions like that and made dirty jokes! so much nostalgia!

Venetia leaning through the harp and being scared of The Ring… 😍😭😍🥰

All dressed in their finery playing tennis! They all fuck. And sleep in a hamster pile.

“Yes! Do you know him?” 😁 James is so excited and happy about things, I love him!

THE LABYRINTH OF SALTBURN first Theseus ref I caught

Oh here we go

No one can convince me that Felix didn’t do this hoping Ollie would walk in and catch him so he could be like “why don’t you join me,” and that’s fanfic fuel

How many times does Felix bare his neck in the film

Also this has been said by someone else much more eloquently but people who squick at the 🛁 have obviously never felt desire that hurts and EATS you and makes you want to rip their face off and throw up on their shoes and that’s why Saltburn is so compelling to me

(I had to pause here while I got deep)

Elspeth’s drink matches her dress. This scene is so beautiful and the colours are bloody gorgeous and again making Barry’s eyes pop!

“Sexually incontinent” 😬

Those flowers next to Ollie 💖 match the cushions oh god 💖

“Men are so lovely and dry,” says Elspeth. THEY’RE NOT. Not in this movie anyway.

Bye bye Pamela, I wonder if she had to go through the servant’s entrance.

I could just look at Elspeth forever in this scene…

The vampire scene is unspeakably erotic, I don’t make the rules

The light reflected in Venetia’s eyes 🤩

They definitely went all the way after this and Farleigh watched - whoops, another fanfic idea.

The sex music is so sinister!

AGAIN Venetia looks like a goddess.

Oh look at Farleigh GLOWERING at Oliver. so rude.

Felix flings his napkin like a child! 😂

Farleigh is wearing all beige.

“I can wear my suit of armour, Elspeth!” James being a ray of sunshine again

Felix sat over there pretending to be Lolita srsly

Ollie implies Venetia is out of his league but Felix clearly thinks she’s not and also Felix is so jealous here it’s coming out of his hair

Felix’s sideburns ugh 💖

Venetia must be cold on that step 😕

Farleigh is still wearing beige but I like his jumper. Felix’s orange jumper is not his colour.

“But…”

That shot of Oliver

More gushing about how fucking flawless Venetia is but that’s probably getting old now if anyone’s actually reading this good god my ego

I’ve seen Henry before but I can’t remember where. Something funny.

“She had two arseholes!” excuse me what the FUCK

Low was EVERYWHERE THEN. Perfect choice.

Farleigh fancies the fuck out of Oliver. Look at him manipulating the shit out of the spoiled beige-wearing twink!

“I don’t hate you,” no you fancy him

Henry’s sad face when Farleigh snatches the mic.

James is so excited about karaoke.

There was absolutely no reason for Ollie to sing “I need it,” that way.

And. And. “I love you. You pay my rent.” I can’t explain why that does this to me.

Feeelix and Veneeetia waving their arms together is just so very lovely.

What’s Farleigh wearing on his head in bed? Genuine question.

Also no one can convince me Ollie didn’t ride him here I mean who said that (fanfic idea) him and his fucking mad top energy

I expected someone to throw themselves down the spiral staircase if I’m honest. Or Ollie to throw someone down it.

Venetia among the lily pads 🪷🪷🪷🪷

It was pretty hot in 2007 but I don’t think it was hotter than Barbados…

Brit pop is not a band…

I saw Pulp and Sophie Ellis-Bextor last year at Latitude. 💖💖

“PamelaDIED?!”

The wallpaper in the sacred bathroom is just gorgeous. I want it.

Ollie bowtie 😍

Oh wow that little Felix x Oliver montage made me want Atonement AU with Farleigh watching them fuck in the library

I don’t like this bit either. Not good with secondhand shame and embarrassment.

“Always beetling off by himself,” I could write an essay about the insect symbolism in Saltburn

Is Ollie’s dad the same dad from It’s A Sin?

The talking and ringing is so much like sensory overload in real life!

Red and blue again! Same shirt! And Ollie is in blue and framed in blue.

The black splatty painting next to them… 🤩

This song is such a BANGER! I was not a club girl so I didn’t know it before this.

What did the orchid do to offend Elspeth?

Ollie’s jacket is like something Neil Perry would wear in a dream… 🌿

The light flashes off Farleigh’s ring just before Oliver says hello!

Why would Oliver have fat kids? So rude!! Again!

That’s why Farleigh’s hair is so big, it’s full of secrets!

Barry’s FACE. Just his facial structure. The close-ups of his face are just… chefskiss

Duncan doesn’t feel like dancing dancing miniminiminiminiminiminoo 🎶

Most beautiful shots in the movie of Oliver lurking in the shadows 💙 skulking

“You two are fucking gross!” India knows what’s up

OH FOR HEAVENS SAKE JUST KISS YOU MORONS

there’s a lot of fingers in mouths here that I’ve not linked together before…

Felix still cares about Oliver enough to ask him if he feels better 🥺

The carnage after that party, good god.

That magenta colour is everywhere here. The robe, the flowers, the streamers and balloons and debris on the lawn. it’s perfect.

I love the Minotaur statue so much.

Music here reminds me of the soundtrack of Perfume, which came out in 2006.

The sideways shot with the looming Minotaur is pure art.

“Felix, darling, where’s your jumper?” 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Horrible pie 🤮

Horrible everything

I had a cardigan like Venetia’s back then

I feel physical pain during this scene. my beautiful posh trashy eccentric darling family is breaking apart. 💔

Venetia pouring the wine is so disturbing to me.

James is no longer a ray of sunshine 😭😭😭

Oliver really unleashes the fury on Farleigh. See, being rude gets you nowhere. Hannibal would eat you, Farleigh.

Oh GOD, this HYMN. It’s so beautiful.

James carrying the coffin 😭 and Venetia’s chipped black nail varnish. Poetry about Venetia’s chipped black nail varnish.

Ollie doesn’t get to come to the stone ritual

*siiiiigh* how can something so bizarre be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen?

I have to make a joke because I’m uncomfortable, sliiiiightly worried about Ollie getting dirt in places it shouldn’t be and having to make up lies to a doctor about how he got mud in his urethra 😬

Sad room 💔

Venetia be like wtf at Ollie asking about the font

See this is my favourite bit (the whole movie is my favourite bit)

I have fanfic planned about this scene. It will be sad and hot and fucked up.

Venetia’s flushed cheeks 💖😭

Ollie barely reacts when she splashed him in the face. How did he not flinch? He has so much control at this point and he knows it.

More fingers in mouth.

Why is this kiss so hot? And the one tear on Ollie’s cheek… 😭

Ohhh I do not like seeing dead Venetia.

James has no sparkle left 😭 he has a signet ring too though

“BECAUSE WE ALL HAVE TO MOVE ON”

That gardener doing a stupid wave at Ollie 🤔

Ollie doing his Tom Ripley as Dickie Greenleaf bit, he’s even got the hair.

Duncan is still there BECAUSE HE IS A GHOST!

Do we think Ollie slowly poisoned Elspeth? Do we think he slept with her? I think so.

On Ollie’s nonsense screen in the coffee shop the only thing coherent is “milk and cookies”!

“I hated all of you,”

When he pulls the tube out it mirrors the statue I think?? One of the statues.

here we go with the magnificent penis

The euphoria I feel at this ending I swear to god

Holy shit this got long

I asked my SO what it feels like to fling your penis about and he didn’t give me a serious answer

Barry’s arse is ridiculous. 🤬

It’s ridiculous.

I’m gonna make some rocks with the Catton’s names on.

And that is that.

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

What did you think about the new season of black mirror? I have no one else to talk to about it sorry 🥺

Also too shy to send off anon

this is how i feel anon! please, come closer. (big spoiler-free)

shortest answer: i liked it.

less short answer: i really liked some, and the others were just fine. idk why people feel the need to shit all over them.

long answer:

im a huge fan of how it's less "uwu future tech is scawwy" and more modern social commentary. i know other people are all up in arms about that, but i personally like it. black mirror's tech-heavy episodes were good and i think they've done it enough! also people are scarier than tech in my opinion lbvs, so it's a welcome breath of fresh air to me. also loved how a lot of these were set back a few decades.

i was also watching some videos because i can never just be normal about something i like, and the director(s) have said that they literally do not want to be known as the "ooga boogy scary tech" show. so it makes sense that it's less of that this season.

this is more than you probably want, but im gonna do a episode breakdown, and if you wanna share what you thought of them too, i'd be more than happy to read!

Joan Is Awful: fine. the concept is pretty interesting and the twist is kinda cool, but to me it felt very "hey this is our opening episode and we're gonna stack it with celebrities, okay?" and that's fine. i just wasn't as pulled into it. it's my least favorite of the five, but i don't dislike it.

Loch Henry: probably my favorite. the scenery is soooooooo oh my god. it's gorgeous. so many beautiful shots. the acting was incredible and believable and i still think about these characters daily. this is one that i fell face-first into and immediately got swallowed up in. nothing else was happening in the world when i was watching this. the twist was heart-wrenching and the unfolding of it was so tense, with both davis and pia finding out, and pia being made to face it alone. in an unfamiliar place. i've seen people whining saying it was predictable, but couldn't be me. (am i.....perchance...stupid? 🤔) the ending shots are so heavy and made me scramble to stop the autoplay so i could just sit and think about it. HUGE fan. honestly had me reflecting on my true-crime consumption in a big way.

Beyond The Sea: close-second favorite. the concept was very good, and even though you could kinda predict certain things that would happen, it kept me on my toes in the final stretch/final decisions made by david. the romance lover in me was very interested in the whole 'falling in love with someone else in my husband's body' concept, despite the hemming and hawing from other viewers lol (am i.....perchance...stupid 🤔 cont.) the acting wasn't quite as believable for me personally as loch henry, but this is another one i keep thinking about.

Mazey Day: fine. i think people are shitting on this one just because they can. did i sit there with my hands out at the TV saying "huh? why? wait, are we really doing this?" during the twist? yeah, i sure did. but you know what? after thinking about it, it's very poetic. there's a raw catharsis to someone literally tearing the throat out of people who make their lives hell. you love to see it. final shot? i will admit, it got me. also hector kinda sucks but is unfortunately babygirl.

Demon 79: speaking of babygirls. nida <3. gaap <3. this is another one that was fine concept-wise. i understand it's technically under the Red Mirror studio, whatever the hell that means. but it was more about the characters to me than the concept. which is fine. the whole demons-or-delusions thing is a little touch and go for me, but i can understand why they would fall back onto that. also in my obsessive video watching later, there are a LOT of easter eggs regarding a future that black mirror's touched on in past episodes. so that's pretty cool. i dunno! thinking about nida and gaap often, but not because of the content. just because i think they're cool.

god damn this is way more than anyone needs. sorry but also not. i think i needed to do this lmao. if you or anyone reading this wants to share their thoughts on this season, my inbox is always open!

[kaihoku]

V25   YES OR NO – November, 1995

Kids are amazing creatures. They can simply go, “Noooo I don’t wanna! I don’t wanna” or “Yeah!” without any worry at all. As adults, we are more inhibited by our tendency to overthink even the simplest of things. Sure, it may be scary but it’s also wonderful to simply be able to honestly refuse and say, “I don’t wanna!”

~*~

People with jobs like ours are in a position where we are frequently watched. But it doesn’t stop there. The results of our appearance will then get quantified into numbers. TV ratings are of course a result of not just a single person so I shouldn’t have to worry too much. Still, there’s a part of me that can’t help but be painfully conscious of my actions.  For example. When there’s a press announcement for an upcoming film or drama, I can’t bring myself to straight up say “I can’t think of anything” even when that is the truth and always feel like I have to do something if only to keep up appearances.

What really made me start to think my actions through carefully was a feature some weekly photo rag oh-so-kindly published about me. Because what hurt wasn’t the fact that people started to talk smack about me, but about the people I know who were unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. If it was just me, it’d simply be like tripping and falling and going “Whoops!” For that, all I have to do is pick myself up.  But when it happens to someone else through no fault of theirs, it takes a lot to put things back to right.

When I confronted the so-called writer who wrote that feature, they just said to me right off the bat, “But getting stuff written about you is part of what being famous is all about!” Knowing that they can’t be reasoned with, I just told them to put themselves in the shoes of people they write about and left it at that.

Thanks to that, I went through a pretty rough time. Not trying to come off sounding poetic or anything like that but it really felt like a knife to the gut. And for a while after that, I was completely out of sorts.

Despite what I have going on personally, at work, the others would be laughing and singing just like normal.  And I know this may come off as cold but if I thought about it, I’m the same as everyone else. Even if another person is having a tough time, there’s really nothing much I can do for them other than to empathize. When I realized that, I had to ask myself if my worries are really all that different.

It was around then that a friend who lived nearby brought his kid over. It was a 2-year old boy. And somehow or other, I ended up being in charge of entertaining the tot. I had Porsche and Corvette toy car models and was a bit anxious about them at first but from the moment the kid saw them and went “Wow~~!” I was a goner. Next thing I knew, we were playing with them and I was going:

“Zoom! Kerr-rash! Ka-boom! “

“Oh noes, the cars are destroyed!”

“Look, the tires came off!”

I realized as I was having fun with the boy that I didn’t feel bothered by anything at all. It’s a wonder, really. Kids have zero qualms in just straight up telling you to your face if they don‘t like something. They’d just nod and say, “Yeah, I like it!” if they do like something and shake their head and say “No, I hate it!” if they don’t. If you do something they think is interesting, they’d just be amazed and go, “Wow!” They’re aren’t afraid of anything. And seeing their clear and honest reactions makes me unafraid, too. It’s pretty amazing.

When they left, I ended up giving the boy everything we played with, up to and including the blue Porsche convertible that was my favorite.  And I told my buddy, “Anytime you folks want to have a date night, just send this lil’ fella my way. I’ll babysit ‘im for you.”

When we play with kids, it’s mainly because we want to enjoy ourselves. My job for sure involves the enjoyment of others. But I believe that it shouldn’t stop there and that it’s important that in doing my job to entertain others, I need to enjoy what I’m doing myself as well. And I need to become more immersed in doing the things I enjoy. Whatever I'm involved in doing, even if I have to exert effort to persist, I want to keep at it until the end. But I also don’t want to ignore the part of me that simply wants to be honest with what I like and what I don’t. So! Imma do just that when it isn’t about work. There’s plenty of stuff I want to try outside of it anyway.

As adults, we always seem to have to keep reminding ourselves that we aren’t kids anymore but now I’m more thinking what’s so wrong with acting like one sometimes? If I can’t be honest with myself, who else can I be honest with? At the end of the day, I’m just as weak as any human and no matter how much I want to deny that truth, no one knows it better than myself. With all the shit that gets written about me and if that isn’t bad enough, I’ve also recently been coming home to find my mailbox broken into and ransacked, it all adds up to become enough to drive a person into deep depression. And I’ve come to learn that if we were to force ourselves to act strong and unaffected in this low state, it really only makes things worse inside.

When we feel weak and dispirited, it’s foolish to even pretend to remain strong.  Times like that, I just want to let it all out and shout, “I freakin’ hate this!”

-kinuta-

[child-of-the-new-contagion]

Ecto-Containment System

.,.,.I wanted a place where I wasn't limiting myself by fear of certain potential readers. It's funny, cause they wouldn't probably read anyway, but the slight chance was inhibiting expression. My wife E is one of the feared potential readers, and I've given out links at times to people too close to me in real life, and that can cause headaches. I could of course just not post, but there's the thing about being potentially readable, even if it's a self-flattering fairy-tale, or even the thing about being theoretically readable far in the future by alien surveyors of the Sol information microcube archived before civilization got turned into a dead two-dimensional painting by hyper-dimensional travelers cleaning the Dark Forest of potential rivals like some roided-up sinophobic new american century project.

So I'm posting in a new way, just writing about things straight-forwardly, instead of coding and metaphors, although I'm trying to do this thing where I have my cake and eat it too, take trips on dxm yet have the happy marriage, be in a relationship but also be able to write, indulge in cryptic poetics and also just convey information, for the edification of myself, mostly, cause there's this sordid compulsion in the social media era, of exhibitionism, even if it's for no one.

So yeah, I'm being a goody good boy for the most part, and a good husband [pretty good at any rate], and faithful, but I also believe in drugs. Certain ones, a sophist's discernment, doctoring myself. I can never totally turn my back on the dextromethorphan sacrament, I'm the prodigal son, the lapsed catholic reclaiming my birthrite.

I think vaping is the new MSG. They don't want it to be OK. They don't want you to enjoy it. They. Them. You know.

It's hard to quit because the negative consequences are so few. Except the artificial expense. The Sin Tax, the mafia government's cut, whatever. Also, there's something creepy about turning myself into a glitchy machine whose functionality is dependent on the short nicotine timer. I don't like it when I'm impatiently pecking at the button with increasing, ever-more-futile efforts like a trauma victim in the hospital bed being weened off the morphine IV by the nurses.

And there's something troubling about the steep curve of diminishing returns, forcing me to take frequent tolerance breaks, like I fail to do anymore with caffeine. It's such a silly game. I'm wired up with what sometimes seems too many chemically dependent circuits, but then, it's all a chemical circuit in'it, some voice deep inside sooths me into believing. No, that's not all there is, there's magikscum of dissociative drugs, and there's the people I love, organic realness, and there's a society I don't know whether to be a martyr defending or shrug off, or just admit I don't know nothin about nothin, I'm just a confused old man in the woods.

There's the thing about never being very precocious, so middle age is gonna hit me late like most things, maybe I'm not even there yet, but oh boy, what a crash it'll be. If I can survive beyond 47, the most depressing age according to data, then maybe I'll get to the real don't give a fuck golden years and enjoy that, if there's anything left in the world to enjoy.

I can take tolerance breaks though, I can go on nic gum, boring responsible gum, and I can even get off that too and get nic free, and I can even get off zoloft, until I start feeling sadness too scary to bear, and run back to it. I can get off these things for a little while. I can get off booze almost all the time, and that is one of the really evil ones, so that's good. I can keep my fentanyl in a bank vault, open it telepathically with the auto-destruct command when needed, if last-ditch geo-engineering fails to fix the planet, and instead turns everything to ice, with the remnants of humanity left to fight it out on a never-stopping train circumnavigating the frigid world and serving as an emblem of wealth inequality.

One part of the movie Children of Men that I think of more and more, that I never gave its due, is the premise of the government-issued suicide pills that are advertised on TV, with the cheery slogan: "You choose when." And real life is rhyming with that close to home with all the hoopla about the Medical Assistance in Dying program in Canada, the assisted-suicide fast-track. I have complicated feelings about that.

I wonder if I can captive-audience someone through the thin gruel of emotional blackmail into reading my selfish words through laundering in what is professedly a letter to a friend, but is really just a blog entry, another wordwank. It might almost work, it's hard to quit something that almost works because it's so close, it might as well be working, burning the credits of long expired favours, like bunk acid.

Mostly I can keep vaping and being on SSRIs and trazodone the tranq because maybe I just breezed through the midlife crisis without even noticing, or maybe it's still waiting for me, but regardless, I can enjoy the benefit, having lived this long, of not feeling the dumb compulsion to be pure somehow, that's an idealism I can happily leave behind.

I'll also post the only music I can manage over the long lame lately, which is facile and clumsy improvisations. But there was something worth a novel or a series in the title: The Art of the Possible. Which is what they say politics is, but I'm trying to stay away from politics on this blog. But there's rich thematic resonance from the epigram that extends to many things. What I meant when I came up with it while playing stemmed from the obsessive thought, what can I possibly come up with, in tense real-time, with these hands of mine that are lagging so far behind my rushing thoughts? The limitations of technique and imagination. What sort of compromise do I have to make with reality, to serve others, like the mockingly theoretical readership, listenership, or public?

[aspiringtrashpanda]

Waaaah (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ ty tyyy!! I wasn't kidding about the length so I still apologize 😅😓 You know how when we’re younger we always wanted to get involved in the “cool stuff the big kids were doing,” whether said “big kids” to us were 13 or 16? When I was little, I wanted Steven to be my big brother or cousin. Since I never had any female cousins my age, I mostly grew up around boys and we did cool things like hang downstairs in their basement theatre, convince our parents to stop at a Walgreens for SillyBandz, and go wild jumping on the beds in their Hotel room with Light Sabers and Harry Potter Wands. (Look, I was like 9-10 this was cool to me 😂) We were a Trio, stuck in the backseat of the backseat of the car, status: gremlins in kahoots. It was weirdly poetic, there was only a year between either of us and I was the middle child. Really movie-like three Musketeering it here lol. Imagine how heartbroken I was when my parents told me they weren’t really my cousins, just really close family friends that we called them “cousin” regardless because they were there for my birth. Anyways, this and how whenever some older male that, I assume were probably late teens early 20s now that I’m older and thinking back, came over, kid me would see all the grown-ups talking to them like equals, being allowed to do “stuff” (it was probably like running an errand for an aunt or setting up tables tbh, I sure don’t know) and were asked about what they were studying at the dinner table, I thought it was so cool that I wanted to grow up fast and do whatever they were doing, go wherever they were going with their friends while I had to stay inside and help clean up because my mom said I wouldn’t be interested and that “they’re just doing their own thing.” Even at theme parks, couldn’t go with them.

Enter: The World of Pokémon. Discovering Fanfics, and the Found Family Trope. And Badass Young Protagonist Dreams we all might’ve had at some point. It’s a coin toss whether Crystal or LeafGreen was my first game, but I ended up really attached to Leaf (after a period of hating her because how DARE she look like my OC who was designed to look like me + the effect of early 2010s era of people hating OCs and only accepting canon characters in fics.) Though let’s be real, she probably looks like a lot of people, compared to having gravity-defying blue hair lol. It’s kind of hard to get May’s hair-style exact too sometimes if you don’t have bangs and short hair, and hers still flutter outwards by themselves. So anyways, this is all a lead-up to what brought me to thinking, “man, wouldn’t it be SO cool to be Champion and the bestest of buddies with the other Champions? (As the games usually sold the story to us)” Because friendship is awesome, teasing and banter and knowing personal things about each other and being considerate about it is sweet, being privy to secret projects the grown-ups never let you in on (I say secret project as if it’s some big thing when they probably wanted to enforce bed times and “that movie is too scary for you” lol) but anyhow, still epic.

I’ve never been able to bring myself to making another Pokémon OC, so I use Leaf as my stand-in for just about everything. I think the one thing holding me back from posting publicly is not everyone thinks the same as me. The game characters have no canon personality, so it looks weird. (Unless if I take influence from Evolutions, which validated so much for me.) They’re trapped in their games. And largely influenced by “majority accepted fanon.” As a result of that, I "should" be writing a wing-woman to the Red x Blue ship. My fic would probably go over better if I used May.

Okay, I have read everything through, but I am going to respond to each message one by one so I can get all my thoughts out! First off, thank you SO MUCH for sharing your brilliance with me. I am honored to get a peek inside your mind! This has been an incredible read. It sounds like you had so much fun with your cousins growing up, and I totally get what you mean about seeing older-but-still-young people doing stuff and you're like, "Hey i wanna hang out with them and tag along too!" But then you grow up and realize that you rushed through your childhood for nothing and ow, that's so real. RIP to all the OCs who fell to the flames of the early 2010s OC hate. OCs aren't for everybody (just like reader inserts), but those that will read an OC grow to love and appreciate them as much as any canon character. Though, there is also absolutely nothing wrong with projecting your OCs personality onto a canon character (if you're in our steven stone discord - which i mean, you're on anonymous so i'm not even gonna try to guess - you see that we do it ALL. THE. TIME.) I'll get more into canon personality vs. author interpretation vs. reader interpretation in the next bit, but I think it's important that you've recognized what you feel fandom has dictated you "should" do. You've recognized it. Now throw it out the window. Your fic will be its best self if you write what you want to write, and I promise, there WILL be someone who resonates with whatever character choice you make, whether they be in the minority or the majority. (To be continued...)

[ultramagicalternate]

ULTRAMagic Prelude Chapter 24

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Master Post

Calling the collection of basaltic rock formations the group had arrived at a forest was being poetic. The Basalt Monolith Forest was a vast area of stone columns as far as the eye could see. They came in all sizes, creating a rather unique terrain to maneuver. Some rock groups formed mountains while others opened up into deep caves. The location created a feeling of both awe and dread (the latter more than the former). Few explorers dared to venture out this far in the past, causing rumors to be rampant.

Dragoslava was aware of these rumors, but some had been dispelled as time went on. One of the few other Descendants to explore the forest was her friend, Brenna. While the notion of curses and monstrosities were most likely untrue, there were still many other mysteries. Brenna had even caught sight of a humanoid amongst the stones, but she was not able to find the rest after it had fled. Whoever resided there were most likely isolated and cautious of outsiders (a reasonable stance to take).

Navigating the hexagonal formations was not easy, and Leif felt the brunt of this.”Blast! I figured this would happen…” he complained as he failed to find a spot to land.

“It’s the columns, isn't it?” Blood-Wraith observed. He had gone back to his normal form once he had the chance.

“Indeed, Blood. Hmm… I hate to do this to you all, but I need to take a shortcut. Keep going without me. Make your way to the Crimson Abyss and continue past that. I’ll meet you in the darkness beyond.” Leif roared, opening up a portal.

Desislav exhaled. “More primordial shennanigans?”

“Unfortunately. You have my apologies. Don’t worry, someone unexpected should be along to help you.”

As Leif entered the portal, Tusk vocalized his thoughts. “I’ve always wondered what the life of a primordial would be like. Now I can safely say that I do not envy them in the slightest.”

The group pressed onwards, deeper into the rock formations. The forest was turning into a labyrinth that became more alien the further they went. The caverns that the basalt formed had strange carvings everywhere that looked disjointed due to the nature of the stone it was carved into. Even the rocks were starting to look off. They appeared to spiral inwards, most evident in slabs that had broken off from the columns. Things quickly got pitch black, so Blood-Wraith led the way. His light illuminated the inky darkness, but it was quite scary for him. Fortunately Dragoslava had his back every step of the way.

After about an hour of walking, Blood-Wraith thought he heard footsteps. They were not from the group, but were slightly ahead. He took a deep breath… then came the rustling of stones and shards. Panic was beginning to creep in. Was something following them? Dragoslava caught it too, but kept the group moving. Deimos would then feel something drip on his head. Looking up revealed nothing but a black, tar-like substance. It smelt faintly of blood. This put the whole group on edge. Something was definitely following them.

Blood-Wraith had it the worst. He was afraid, but not like when he fought the Lich. He had no idea what he was dealing with, nor how to defend himself from it. This was true fear and the tension was unbelievable. It felt like at any moment something could just reach out and grab him. More rustling caused him to quietly whine, so Dragoslava stopped the group for a break. With some deep breaths and encouragement, Blood-Wraith relaxed a bit. While everyone else rested, he took up Voidborne and looked around. The terrified soul brandished his staff around with the intent of catching whatever was following them. He heard the rustling once more and moved towards it…

Nothing. Blood-Wraith exhaled a sigh of relief. “Okay…” What he did not expect was a skinless, smiling face…

“HI THERE!”

Blood-Wraith screamed at the top of his lungs, bolted to Dragoslava, and held onto her tightly. “THE THING! THE THING! IT’S THE THING!!!” It was now walking up to them…

Desislav was terrified, but puffed out his chest. “I got this!” He barreled forward, grabbed the entity, and pinned him to the wall with a slam. “ALRIGHT BUDDY, WHY WERE YOU FOLLOWING US? ARE YOU WITH THE LICH?”

“Ack! No, I… just wanted to say hi…” Closer inspection showed that the muscles were black, an odd sight indeed. The person’s skin and features materialized, revealing that he was a human. He appeared to be a youthful man with strange, light pink hair and blood red eyes. His body was covered in a shiny, black substance that resembled dried blood. The material went up to his chin. “I’m currently lost here…”

Tusk knew that voice. “Wait, hold up… Vlastimir?”

“Hehe, hey Tusk. Long time no see…” His laughter was well meaning, yet unsettling.

“Okay, you can put him down, Desislav.”

He grunted and complied. Then a realization occurred to him. “Hey, wait a second… that’s… he’s the one we saw back in The Unending Forest?”

Tusk nodded. “I suppose a proper introduction is needed. This is Vlastimir Bartholomew Jorstad. Don’t quote me on that surname because he’s given me multiple others in the past. He’s… He’s a mad sellsword, but he has helped my people in the past, so I do trust him. I still have no idea how he keeps getting into the forest though…”

Vlastimir laughed, then handed Voidborne to Blood-Wraith. “You dropped this.”

“You scared me… really bad…” He stated as he let go of Dragoslava.

Following a round of introductions, Vlastimir explained his state of affairs. “You see, I’m a 16 year old boy who just graduated from academy… wait, no, I’m 30… or am I 100? 300? 1000? No wait! I’m definitely 30… in a half… three quarters… four sevenths of a mile. You see, I turned into a black hole… or maybe it was a moon made of blood made of insanity… either way, I ended up in the Unlight and I have been wandering around ever since.  And now I’m lost in this unending labyrinth.”

“Okay then… Do you want to come with us?” Dragoslava proposed. “We are going deeper, but it should get you out of here.” 

“If you would be so kind, haha…”

Dragoslava turned to Deimos. “Any objections?”

“Nope. He seems capable enough. Strength in numbers after all. Do you vouch for him, Tusk?”

“Aye, I vouch. Just get your head on straight, Vlastimir.”

Deimos shook Vlastimir’s hand. “Welcome to the team.”

“Thank you, thank you. I swear on my honor as a Dracul that I will NOT let you down.”

Desislav nearly choked on his spit. “Wait! WHAT THE HELL?”

Vlastimir quickly realized where Desislav was from. “Nothing, nothing…” It was hard to tell, but he was sweating bullets.

While that was strange, the rest of the group paid no mind to the oddity. Desislav on the other hand could not let it go. Why did the newcomer even say that name? Was he that mad? Either way, the confused satyr had to drop it for now. They had to work together and the man had Tusk’s trust. The journey onwards was a bit odd, as if that were not already the norm. Vlastimir kept giggling and chuckling and there were signs of life in the depths of the labyrinth. Eventually the group found the gateway to the Crimson Abyss, but it was not much better.

Everyone entered into a colossal chamber that was illuminated by a creepy, red light. The floor had a light haze and cracks in the stone revealed what looked like living tissue. An odor in the vein of blood was everywhere. Carvings were there too, but it was like they were depicting the interior of a body. On top of all of this, it was hot and humid. The chamber would have been utterly miserable if it was not so important. Deimos would presume that his other half most likely took another path since this was the intended way.

“So how do we open this giant door?” Dragoslava asked.

Deimos studied it. There was text on it that gave a warning to all that approached. “Hm… let me see. We need the blood of the metal oasis as it’s the key to the abyss.”

Well that’s no problem” Blood-Wraith pointed out. “Sister’s got us covered” 

“Yes, but I believe the issue is how do we use it,” Desislav clarified.

As if something had heard him, a stone box rose from the floor. Opening up revealed it was full of organic matter. This gave Dragoslava an icky feeling. “Ew… don’t tell me I have to get in…”

“I think you do. Here, I hold your coat…” Desislav said with sympathy in his voice.

“Let’s get this over with…”

Dragoslava metalized her skin and hopped in. First the biomass covered her entire body. She wriggled around as it engulfed her. It felt so weird and grossed her out. Once she was secure, the box sealed itself shut. Some kind of mechanism moved the box back and up the circular stone door. Once it was embedded within the door, stone rings grinded loudly and slowly moved out of the way. This process shook the entire chamber. What beheld the group was beyond comprehension. They nervously stepped through the doorway into a tunnel of tissue and bone.

A fleshy tube came down from the ceiling and gently deposited Dragoslava next to the group. She was all slimy and covered in organic film, so a kind little organism came by and wiped her down. “Blood, firstly, that was disgusting. Secondly, the abyss is friends with the oasis.”

“Oh, you can talk to it?”

“For the most part… it’s kind of weird.”

Vlastimir laughed. “Nice…”

Deimos pondered what they had just witnessed for a second. “Bizarre. It makes me wonder if that was always intended or if someone tried to break in in the past.”

Desislav looked back at the doorway. “Well that would certainly throw most people off.”

The trek through the abyss was unbearable. Walking inside of a living organism presented a myriad of challenges. Some areas were bone and others were soft tissue. What seemed like a safe path led to Tusk and Vlastimir falling into a cramped flesh node. Desislav banged his head on a bone covered in tissue, then fell into another bone full of sticky marrow. Blood-Wraith had stumbled into a cluster of nerve cells, got shocked, then fell into a pool of blood that was covered by a scab. Interestingly the blood seemed to reinvigorate him. Eventually the abyss had to intervene, guiding the group to the deeper areas. Soon everyone entered a room where they were surrounded by clumps of sinew and walls made of black flesh that pulsed with veins of bioluminescent light.

Curious as to the nature of the sinew, Desislav stuck his hand out over a clump. It inspected his hand and fully wrapped it up. He tugged, but the sinew refused to let go until he gave it a good yank. Blood-Wraith, being naive, had the idea to step onto the clump. The strands began wrapping around him, causing everyone to panic. Blood-Wraith was fine though, as it felt like he was being inspected. The sinew went up to his neck, then stopped and unwrapped him. Once he was back on the path, the clump formed an armed and waved its finger at him.

Now the abyss could communicate with Blood-Wraith. He indicated for the group to wait while he chatted. It told him many things and mentioned how it was stalling the Lich. Blood-Wraith thanked it for this. The conversation went on for a bit until it mentioned Desislav and Tusk. Blood-Wraith looked at the two, who were incredibly confused. He nodded as the abyss explained what it wanted to do with them.

“I see, Abyss… yeah, you do have a good point… I don’t think they’re going to be enthusiastic about it though… hey guys? The Abyss wants to lend us a hand.”

Tusk had a bad feeling. “How so…?”

“Well it’s hard to explain… we’ll just have to show you. Also, please forgive me…” Blood-Wraith then shoved Tusk into a huge clump of sinew. He panicked wildly as the tendrils quickly wrapped him up and began pulling him under.

“BLOOD-WRAITH! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?” Desislav shouted.

He took on his Might Form. “Again, it’s hard to explain…” Blood-Wraith then picked up Desislav and tossed him into the black tissue. He was rapidly absorbed and disappeared.

“NOT FUNNY, BLOOD!” Tusk protested as was pulled under.

Dragoslava then watched as Tusk sank out of sight and took a deep breath. “Blood, did the Abyss specifically ask for them?”

“Yes…”

“Alright, I’ll trust that you and the Abyss know something I don’t…”

“Interesting…” Deimos noted. “Perhaps the abyss wishes to either keep them safe or give them something…”

“Yeah, the gift part…” Blood-Wraith replied, feeling a little guilty.

“Ah, I see. I highly doubted that it was a retaliation. We wouldn’t have gotten this far in the first place. May I ask what this gift is?”

The abyss then spoke to Dragoslava. “Oh, okay… thank you… yeah, I see what you and Blood mean now.” She turned back to the others. “They’ll be fine. For now we need to continue on. Don’t touch the walls or sinew. They’re very sensitive.”

The group pressed on, but Vlastimir had questions. “Why are they so sensitive though?”

“Apparently we’re near vital organs,” Dragoslava explained. “These are all security measures that normally would eliminate pathogens. The walls shock and dissolve while the sinew restrains and sends the intruder to a white blood cell… normally. Tusk and Desislav are getting the special treatment and sent elsewhere.”

“Sick…” Vlastimir cackled.

With a maniacal laugh, he jumped into a huge clump of sinew. It pushed him out. He jumped in again. This time it wrapped him up, squeezing him enough to be uncomfortable (but not hurt him). It then released him, formed an arm, and slapped him across the face. Hopefully Vlastimir would get the hint that the Abyss was not a toy. Naturally the Abyss’ blood ran cold when it saw that he was eying the walls next. Vlastimir then leapt for it, only to be intercepted by an amoeba and absorbed. He was very confused.

Deimos laughed and wheezed as the amoeba brought him over, fully compressed inside. It refused to let him go. “HA! I don’t think the Abyss trusts you enough not to hurt yourself or it.”

Dragoslava shook her head. “Mess around and find out…”

“Don’t worry, it’ll let you go once we get to where we're going” Blood-Wraith reassured.

“Hmph…”

“He’s a wild card, isn’t he?” Deimos remarked. “I appreciate the tenacity, but that compulsiveness indicates a lack of discipline. Honestly, those bad behaviors remind me of The Conspirator of Old…” 

“I cmm still hear myu…” Vlastimir tried to mutter.

Continuing on, the four encountered a giant hole. A dark sphere was a long way down at the deep, deep bottom. It was like it was beckoning them to jump. Blood-Wraith was scared and his head was spinning over the depths of the pit. 

“Oh… oh my… sister? Do we have to?”

“Yeah, I think we have to take a leap of faith…” Dragoslava bemoaned. A gurgling sound disrupted the tension as two person shaped lumps slid down flesh tubes to the ground. “Oh hey, our boys are back… I guess they’re not getting out of this either, ha…”

Next: Chapter 25

ULTRAMagic Alternate © 2022 William Ford II (ChaoticTempleKnight)

[shaelashaela]

Before You Were Born, ch. 20 - final -

[cw] physical intimacy [reading time] 7 mins.

White cloth fluttered in the breeze, and my eyes opened after what felt like an endless nightmare. All around me, bright, welcoming sunlight coated the room with warmth. The concepts of time and place were distant to me. Was I dead? It all felt so surreal. Wherever I was, my body rested on a cloud, floating through a pleasant autumn afternoon.

A hand supported the back of my head and lifted me up a little, another bringing a cup to my lips. “Here, drink a little,” said a soft, disembodied voice.

The cool water slid down my throat and helped to sharpen my senses. Wild landscapes faded into the beautiful paintings that my mother hung on the walls of my childhood room… but it was not my mother who held me. My eyes met with Rayna’s, and her face was as sunny as the room.

She pulled the cup away from my mouth. “Are you truly awake now?”

I tried to assemble my thoughts, but it proved difficult. “I drifted… how long?”

“A couple of days. You needed the rest.”

My body shifted under the covers as I coaxed sore limbs into motion. Everything still worked, at least. Something was on my hands, though, so I lifted them to my face. White gauze wound tightly around each one.

Rayna answered my unspoken question. “Your mother called Dr. Xie. He patched you up. Me too,” she said with a giggle. “I think Mal was offended when the doctor called his stitches a ‘hack job.’”

My childhood doctor treating me in my childhood bedroom, how poetic. My brain caught up with the conversation and realized that I spoke to Rayna. With sudden excitement and haste, I pushed myself up on my elbows, but immediately dizziness overcame me. Rayna cooed softly and helped me lay back down.

“I… I thought you were dead…”

The corners of her mouth pitched downward. “It was far too close for comfort, for sure. I got help like you asked, though. Don’t you remember? I carried you out on my back.”

“Everything’s a bit hazy.” At least, everything from the point my uncle stabbed me onwards. “Has … has Ixion been stopped?”

She squirmed in her chair, and the discomfort on her face did not reassure me. “If you don’t remember, maybe we should talk about that later. But, yeah, he won’t be bothering us anymore.”

My eyes settled into repose again, and I let out a breath I’d held for over a week. It was finally over, then. Perhaps I could relax. Something nagged at the back of my mind, though, a burning need to resolve our earlier conversation. Rayna was close, so I reached out to her.

Her face brightened in a way that warmed my heart, and she gingerly grasped my bandaged hands in hers. “Something on your mind?”

“You asked me something before we went into the Wylde, and I promised I would explain. Rayna, I…”

My voice failed me, and my chest tightened. Fear of rejection clouded my thoughts. Could I tell her the truth?

She tilted her head like a curious fox. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain yourself. If you don’t feel the same way I do—”

“No! That’s not it. I do love you!”

Rayna sat up straight and blinked a few times. “You… love me?”

Shock muted me again. I didn’t intend for those words to leave my mouth, but it was impossible to will them back. I took a deep, shuddering breath.

“Yes… I’m sorry I couldn’t say it earlier. I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea. I do love you. It’s just that… I’ve never felt about anyone like I feel about you, not even a little bit. It’s strange and scary to me.”

“Never? Wow… I guess I just assumed you’d had at least some relationships before, y’know, being…”

“Old?”

“I wasn’t going to say it like that!”

I grinned in spite of my fear. “Mama always wanted me to find someone and start a family, but I didn’t understand the things she said or how she felt about Papa. People flirt with me all the time, and I feel nothing. At least… not until you. I, uh, that is to say… is this making any sense?��

Her eyes fluttered back and forth, intense with thought. “Oh… oh! Sylvie… I’m so sorry, I had no idea.”

You and me both, I thought. “You couldn’t have. I don’t think I even understand myself. I want very much to be with you, but I don’t know what that looks like.”

She glanced down at our hands and her smile returned, though much more subdued. “I don’t know, either… but I’m willing to try. Thank you for trusting me.”

Rayna brought my hands up to her lips, and she kissed my fingertips—the only part of my hand not covered in gauze. “And, Sylvie? T’vanor.”

My heart fluttered. It was a simple phrase, “I love you,” in Elvish. “You practiced that? Your accent was perfect.

“Yeah, I guess I outed myself.” She giggled nervously. “I needed something to do while I waited.”

“Come a bit closer? I can’t sit up.”

She nodded and scooted forward on her chair so her face hovered above me. I caressed her cheek with one bandaged hand, then placed it behind her head, evoking another wide grin from her—she knew what I intended. Her hand mirrored my own, sliding through my hair, and her thumb ran over the edge of my ear. The hair on my arms raised into little bumps at her touch, and I titled my chin forward, silently asking her to bring her mouth closer to mine. At first I thought she would, but when she drew close, she parted her lips and breathed softly, the warm air tickling my upper lip. The earthy, cozy aroma of elderberry wine danced in the air, a drink my mother often served to guests. Her luscious lips bore bright burgundy colouring that enticed me like bee to blossom, but she was an avatar of cruelty floating just beyond my grasp.

I called her a “little devil” in Elvish, which she probably didn’t understand, but she smirked, reading my frustration.

“Patience,” she replied, and the feeling of her breath on my skin made me shiver. “You made me walk through hell for this, so I’m going to savour it.”

Her gorgeous brown eyes regarded me in a way that no other person ever had, a gaze not of lust, but of longing soon to be satisfied. She tilted her head and let her eyelids fall, and mercy graced me as finally she touched her soft lips to mine. My tightly wound body uncoiled, and I closed my eyes to focus on the sensations. Rayna took it slow, for which I was grateful and attempted to match her movements, but to be honest, I had no idea what I was doing. That didn’t matter, though. She gently enveloped my mouth with hers, and instinctively, my mouth opened. She pushed deeper in return and rewarded me with a playful flick of her tongue against mine. Never had I wanted someone to touch me like this before, but now it felt as natural as sharing a book with her. My hands ached, but I couldn’t help myself and ran them through her silky locks, wishing my fingers could feel more through the gauze.

Footsteps sounded from the hallway, and we both froze. Rayna thankfully had her wits about her and leaned back in her chair just before my mother entered the room. My heart thumped in my chest—half from the intensity of our kiss, half from the fear of getting caught.

Mama looked in better spirits than when last I saw her, but a few new bruises discoloured the otherwise flawless skin on her arms and face. Had she fought Ixion as well?

“I thought I heard conversation,” she stated in an official, motherly tone.

My companion yielded her chair, and Mama gathered the hem of her robes and sat down next to me. Rayna mouthed the words “ears like a hawk” at me, and I laughed a little.

My mother didn’t notice, or at least chose to ignore it. “Shaela-shaela, how are you feeling?”

“I could use a longer nap, I think.”

She smiled at my feeble attempt at humour and leaned down to kiss me on the forehead. At the same time, she wiped my mouth with a kerchief she clutched in her hand. “You seem awake enough, dear.”

Her voice was a mixture of amusement and disapproval. I tried to sink into my pillows and disappear completely, my cheeks burning. I couldn’t believe my mother just wiped Rayna’s lipstick off my face, and I was mortified. Rayna clasped one hand over her own mouth, probably to stifle a laugh.

I made a desperate bid to change the subject. “I’m just happy to see you at all, Mama. I never imagined anyone would come for me.”

“I cannot take the credit for that. Rayna gathered the team for our expedition and led us to you.”

My girlfriend made an attempt at modesty. “I just did what Sylvie asked me to do.”

Mama smiled in a way that felt warm and genuine. “She has also doted on you night and day in a manner that should rightfully make me jealous, but I was grateful for the assistance.”

Rayna’s cheeks turned bright red at that remark. I didn’t feel the slightest bit sorry for her after what just happened.

My mother continued. “Your friend, Malcolm, provided assistance as well. You should visit him when you have recovered.”

“I’m grateful for everyone’s help. Come here.”

I opened my arms wide, and they leaned into my embrace. My mother and Rayna both giggled as their hair flicked each other in the face. To be safe in my home with the two most important women in my life brought me back to a place of peace and normality. I had my fill of secret fathers and death-defying adventures.

I hummed a little tune to myself as I tucked a few of Rayna’s latest purchases into their proper places on the shelf. After I recovered, she graciously offered to let me live with her in the book store. It wasn’t a difficult decision. Who would want to dwell in the place their father died? I missed James just a little bit, though. And my balcony. And my plants. And my workshop. Oh well… it wasn’t perfect, but I could adapt.

Lending her a hand with the daily chores around the store was enjoyable in its own way. She told me I didn’t have to do that, but I think she secretly appreciated the help. She ate a proper lunch every day, at the very least.

Just thinking about her brought a smile to my face unbidden. Happy days were ahead of me, and I allowed the daydreams to run wild. A few metres away from me, Rayna leaned over the front counter, scribbling at some paperwork. Her hair bounced a little bit with each pen stroke. I loved watching her while she was engrossed in her work.

Something wasn’t quite right, though. When I turned my head, wisps of my own hair moved slowly to the side before my eyes. Each stroke of Rayna’s pen became a ponderous motion. The room drained of colour, and the traffic outside ground to a halt.

Except that I could still move for some reason. My eyes darted from bookshelf to bookshelf. I thought we were alone, but then my vision settled on a man standing in the entryway.

Wait… was it Ixion? It couldn’t be… my mother told me he was dead. This man was markedly different, though. A gravitas of respect surrounded him like a musky cloud of cologne, and his body was broad and tall, very tall—even taller than my father. He wore a smart suit with a white scarf draped around his shoulders, and he carried a walking cane, a combination both pretentious and anachronistic. His long black hair was bound tightly into a pony tail that fell down his back, and his ears tapered into fine points, just like mine.

My voice was a thin rasp. “Who are you?”

His blue eyes bore through me like stakes of diamond, and his voice rolled through the shop like a thunder clap. “Do you not recognize your King?”

To be continued ...