#log: eros alone

[voice-of-desire]

... Looks like I m̷i̵g̴h̵t̷ 🤏 have o̸v̵e̴r̶d̶i̵d̴ ̶i̷t̷, 📈💥 oh dear. 😓😬 Let's—um... 😶 Let's 👉 get you laid down 🛌😴 somewhere more c̵o̴m̶f̶o̴r̷t̸a̶b̶l̴e̵.̴.̴.̶ 🛏️🛋️

👁️➡🛌

There~! 🙌😁 That's m̸u̶c̵h̵ ̶b̸e̶t̵t̸e̸r̸.̶ 🤗👍📈 Right, Obby? 👁️💋💘❔ R̴i̸g̵h̶t̷.̸.̵.̴?̴ 🙁❓

... Ha, 😅 you look so p̵e̵a̴c̶e̵f̴u̷l̶.̸ 😪💤😴 I could almost 🤏 believe you d̶o̴n̵'̶t̵ ❌🙅‍♂️ probably d̷e̵s̵p̵i̷s̴e̴ 🤬💢😒 me... 🖕❤️‍🔥 M̸a̴y̵b̶e̵ I could just...? 🥺🫂💋❔

A̷͙͘ǵ̵̭h̵̤͗—No, n̷o̵.̵ 🚫🙅 I'm sure this 👇 is p̶u̵s̶h̷i̴n̴g̸ my l̶u̵c̴k̸ 🫸🍀🌠 already... 😬 I... 😞😖 I should p̶r̷o̷b̸a̶b̵l̷y̴ 🤏📈 g̴o̵.̸.̴.̵ 😔❤️‍🔥👉🚪

... Sweet dreams, 👋🍬😴 p̵r̶i̷n̷c̷e̸p̸s̶.̵.̷.̶ 👑👁️💋💔🥲

[hollybell51]

Chapter One

A goodbye and a hello

A Heart Of Ice - Jack Frost x fem!Reader

Masterpost

Word count: 1093

Summary: after having made some evaluations, you decide that it is time to break away from a certain very important person in your life, and hence make a new friend.  

Notes: age limit is 15-16 (purely because of drug mentions and violence, more on this in the explanation section), and I just wouldn’t feel comfortable with anyone under that reading this xx. It’ll still be here when you’re a little older, it won’t have changed or gone anywhere I promise. Please see the explanation sections, since I feel like this one does need a bit of a background and some justifications. 

Explanations: 

Basically (Y/N)/you/the reader etc. is/are a Cupid, so powers over love (including romantic, familial, platonic and all other types). I kinda wanted to take that idea and run with it a bit, so when I wrote this I was like “hey, what if this character had like a kind of split identity?” so that’s what I did, like two sides of a coin (not actually different identities, more like personas/alter egos I guess). I couldn’t really find someone in Greco-Roman mythology to represent hatred, so I chose chaos/strife -- Eris/Discordia. Obviously Cupid is the Roman form of Eros, but Eros-Eris and Cupid-Discordia didn’t sound how I wanted it to, so we have Cupid-Eris. Please don’t crucify me lmao 

Also, I mention “phasing” “jumping” and “disappearing and reappearing” a few times, which basically is how you/(Y/N) move/s, and I had it in my head as being like how Loki does in that Bifrost scene in the first Thor movie if that makes sense... anyways. Also I mention glowing or lighting up, which basically just happens when the whole power thing is being used or when you/her are/is happy... it all makes sense in my head but on paper (computer?) it’s much less coherent lol 

On a more serious note, I need to address the drug references and content warnings. Because (Y/N)/you is/are somewhat an unstable character (I wrote this when I was an unstable character tbh), I wanted to give a sort of vulnerability/weakness to reflect that and where she/you is/are in life in this and the struggles that are faced...? I’m not saying drugs are bad, and I’m not saying they’re good or cool or anything like that (people can do what they want tbh, I don’t really care). I guess you could probably rate this M, maybe MA15, and I know that Rise of the Guardians is a kid’s movie but it’s fanfiction, I do what I want. 

Ok, that’s enough from me, please enjoy!

~~~

“Ah,” Pitch sighed, taking up a place on the log next to you. “You should have come tonight, (Y/N). It was wonderful.”

“Yeah?” you asked, poking at the snowy ground between your feet. “Had fun terrorising villagers?”

“Well yes,” he frowned. “I thought you would have enjoyed it.”

“Mmm.” You tossed the stick aside, getting up and moving over to your small pile of possessions. You grabbed a small bag, tipping out some of the dried leaves inside and taking up a piece of paper. You rolled it into a joint, lit the end, and took a drag of the pungent herb inside.

The thing about Pitch was that it was great at first, when he found you. You were alone, you’d been alone for about 5 years, and then he was there. He showed you how to embrace the other side of yourself, the side that wasn’t just Cupid. But gradually it was less “Eris and the Boogeyman” and more “the Boogeyman”. Nobody noticed the chaos and strife you created, it just became a by-product of Pitch’s fear.

You’d made up your mind that afternoon, when the shadows had begun to lengthen and the sun started its descent towards the horizon, when people’s fear had permeated the air with its pungent tang and Pitch’s eyes had gleamed with anticipation. You had to leave. You wanted to leave. 

Now, Pitch watched you from across the small clearing, his expression unreadable.

“Want some?” you asked, holding it out.

“God no,” he said, “you know I hate that stuff.”

You shrugged. “I was just asking.”

He was silent for a moment, then said, “Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind?”

“What do you mean?” You sat down again, blowing out a stream of smoke into the cold night air.

He laughed. “You’ve been avoiding me, (Y/N). I can tell, you’re nervous about something. You try to cover it up with that infernal herb, but that won’t work. So what is it?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes you do. You never come out with me anymore, why is that?” He tilted his head to the side, studying you carefully.

You took a deep breath, placing your joint to the side. “Maybe I’m sick of bringing hate and darkness wherever I go. Maybe I want a change.”

“What do you mean? How can you be sick of it? The power I—we hold, how can you want anything but that?”

“That’s just the thing,” you sighed. “It’s not my power, is it? It’s all yours, always you they run from. You don’t hear people screaming “run, it’s Eris!” do you? Nobody even knows I exist.”

“I know you exist.”

“I don’t want to do this anymore, Pitch. I’m tired of being Eris, I want to go back to…” you stood, turning away and picking up my cloak from the ground. You pulled it on, shoving your things haphazardly into your pockets.

“Back to Cupid? You were weak, (Y/N), I made you strong. What’s love compared with the chaos you bring, the destruction! You can’t leave, (Y/N), what about me? What about all… this?” He gestured to the distant village, where you could still hear indistinct chatter and see the fires burning outside. As if those feeble lights would ever keep Pitch at bay.

“I don’t need you to be strong, and I don’t want to be strong if it means I’m just going around wrecking things. You’ll find someone else,” you said tightly, “but I’m sure you can manage fine without me. Chaos, strife, hatred… they’re all things you’ll be able to create on your own.”

“(Y/N), listen to me—” he started, getting up to follow you.

“No, Pitch. I’m leaving, and you’ll be wise not to follow me. I’ve had enough.” You pulled your cloak more firmly around yourself, darting into the trees and towards the village.

“You’ll come back!” You heard him yell after you. “You need me, (Y/N)! You’re powerless without me, you’ll fade away until nothing is left of you and then you’ll come running back!”

You hurried on, your breath clouding the air. You could already feel his cloying darkness wearing off, and with a start you realised that you were physically lighter. You didn’t so much as walk, but flitted between trees like you used to, before you met him and had become the slinking shadow at his side. You breathed deeply, calming the butterflies in your stomach as you grew closer to the lights.

By the time you reached the village, you didn’t even need your cloak. You cast it off, grabbing the few possessions you really needed in your hand. You could always find more of the drug somewhere, you didn’t really need food, and you would be fine without any of the other things for a while. You only needed your bow, and your arrows. You held up the weapons, watching the dull black surfaces as they slowly faded to a kind of dark silver. They’d be back to how they used to be soon, when they brought love and happiness instead of chaos and hate.

You moved through the village silently, everyone around you completely unaware of your presence there. The people around were mostly adults, but you spotted a few children holding tight to their parents’ hands. A couple walked past, their arms tightly wrapped around each other. So much love, such new infatuation with each other you could practically taste it.

Something freezing cold passed over you, and for a moment you thought it was Pitch, then you realised it was just a child. They ran on, completely oblivious to the fact that they ran directly through you.

“Hello?” The shout caught you off guard. “Ma’am, hello? Can you hear me?”

You darted around the corner, following the voice of a boy. He was standing in the middle of the street, his image flickering as people passed right through him.

“Someone answer me!” he called, “Hello?” He looked around frantically, then froze, staring at you. “H-hello? Ma’am?” he waved hesitantly, approaching you. His bright blue eyes were wide, almost scared, under a fringe of palest silver hair. He didn’t look any older than about 16.

But that didn’t matter, what mattered was that he was looking directly at you, seeing you, talking to you. It had been far too long, you realised, since anyone but Pitch had acknowledged -- been able to acknowledge -- your existence. You could have screamed, could have jumped straight to this boy and hugged him right there. 

“Hi,” you said instead as he drew nearer. “Who are you?”

“You… you can see me? You can hear me?” He reached out a hand, gasping when you took it.

“And you can see me. Look at that,” you smiled as your fingers laced together. His skin was oddly cold, but soft, the bones of his hand delicate. “I can touch you too.”

“I’m… Jack. I’m Jack Frost.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Jack Frost, I’m (Y/N).”

Chapter Two

[rosethornewrites]

T and G rated fics I read this weekend!

This is all The Untamed/MDZS fics.

So I learned last week that I can only add 100 links. And I read over 100 fics 😬 so now this is gonna be two posts. Additionally, I’ll likely start posting these daily from now on. It just gets to be a lot.

Finished:

Tumblr Fics:

BEETOBER 2021 DAY 2 - EARRING, by @bloody-bee-tea

Rated T:

find a home in him, by makebelieveanything and nerdzeword

“Come on a-Cheng, let’s go,” she prodded, gently ushering him out the door as she handed off jackets to both boys.

“Why the fuck is he always doing stupid shit and making us run after him for?” Jiang Cheng complained as he shrugged into his jacket, Lan Wangji donning his own in silence.

“Wangji?” Yanli prodded gently. “Are you alright?”

“... what if we never find him?”

“We will,” Yanli said confidently.

or Modern AU where Wei Wuxian runs away from his foster home when he turns 18, and it doesn't end the way he planned.

My Brother's Keeper - Purple Years (The first stage of grief), by ArchiveWriter

Set after WWX plunges from the cliff after the battle at Nightless City. The ramblings of Jiang Cheng's mind in the first stage of grief, flicking back and forth between the past and then.

thank you, drunk me, by carmiemaybe (glazedlilies)

Or where Lan Zhan is confused at Wei Ying's behaviour after the previous, drunken night's events.

This Grave Will Not Be Mine, by Rana Eros (ranalore)

The Burial Mounds' claim to Wei Wuxian has been superceded.

Qinghe Jue, by Merinnan

Nie Mingjue promised to protect his brother. He wasn't going to let qi deviating and dying at Jinlintai stop him from keeping that promise.

With What Proof, by Preludian_Staves

"I know he did it!"

"What proof do you have?"

Meeting the Family, by sami (part of a series)

Wei Wuxian has a secret.

I’ll stick to my single-log bridge till it’s dark, by autumncolour

Can’t anyone give me a nice, favorable road to walk on?

Lan Wangji leaves the Burial Mounds. Wei Wuxian gets drunk. The night in Yiling is clear and dark, and full of thick, half-understood longing.

Love Me on the Sunlit Grass, by Eliza (second in a series)

Zizhen will always be there when Jin Ling calls in a panic about his uncle.

the mutability of survival, by tunnelOFdawn

All the ways Lan Zhan, Wei Ying, and Jiang Cheng could have died in canon.

i'll keep walking, by justdoityoufucker

Wen Qing died.

This, she knows; from the painful lick of flames to the unavoidable choking that came with the smoke to the wickedly satisfied grin on Jin Guangshan’s face before she closed her eyes the last time. She hoped, those last few moments, that it would be the end. Wei Wuxian would be free, and the last remnants of their family would be safe. She hoped that Wen Ning wouldn’t feel any pain, when the time came for him to follow her.

-

Or, the one where Wen Qing ends up in the past and fixes the future.

Rated G:

天涯之外 / beyond the world's end, by yuer (vintageblueskies)

"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji says, his voice cracks open in a way Wei Wuxian has never heard before. He crosses over to where Wei Wuxian is still sitting; Wei Wuxian starts to scramble up, but Lan Wangji just shakes his head, gets to his knees next to him. And isn't that something? The untouchable Hanguang-jun on his knees in the Burial Mounds, dirtying his pristine robes to sit next to Wei Wuxian.

-

or, lan wangji returns to the burial mounds

Song of My Heart, Mate of My Soul, by SakuraKage

The Gusu Lan are said to have an innate connection with music. The Gusu Lan are also said to love deeply – with their whole soul – so deeply that they seem to only be able to fall in love once.

Lan Wangji knows these rumours. He also knows the truth, or close to it, as it has been handed down through the generations. Their connection to music runs far deeper than the other sects could dream. Every Lan heart contains a song, a musical piece that encapsulates the very fiber of their being, and it only comes to life under a specific set of circumstances. The parameters to unlock your heartsong are highly disputed, but the generally accepted condition to fill is … to meet your soulmate.

see your face, hear my voice in the dark, by arypls

Wei Wuxian is having trouble falling asleep but Lan Wangji is there with gentle words and soothing touches to show his husband he's no longer alone.

If I knew what safety looked like, by askanis

Beautiful, brave Wei Ying is waiting for Lan Zhan to tell her she cannot be all of who she is. She will listen, if Lan Zhan says this. If Lan Zhan even looks uncomfortable, Wei Ying will take this back and never mention it again. Will pretend that this is not her truth, perhaps until she believes it herself.

And Lan Zhan will never get to fully see Wei Ying for who Wei Ying is.

underneath the magnolias, by krizzlesandblues

Summer in Cloud Recesses means iced fruits sent by merchants, more practical trainings for juniors, with some of them catching up on their lessons.

But for the youngest members of GusuLan Sect, summer means classes under the big magnolia tree.

Word Up, Talk the Talk, by Larryissocute

It wouldn’t have been a problem (it really wouldn’t) if they weren’t best friends. Wei Wuxian doesn’t know what good deeds he did in his past life to be blessed with Lan Wangji as a friend nor does he know what evil things he did to be cursed with being only a friend to Lan Wangji.

Or the one where Wei Wuxian kisses Lan Wangji and then runs away.

Hai Shi — Sleeping Hours, by Saint Er (wwxsays_er)

It's right before bedtime, when a drunk Wei Wuxian shows up on Lan Wangji's door, and suddenly, this has now become Lan Wangji's problem.

In the Silence, by XianleDianxia

With his husband and son on a night hunt, Wei Wuxian is left to his own thoughts. His temperament is not as calm as Lan Wangji would like it to be.

intervention (how to convince your very gay brother that he, is in fact, gay), by okok29

"You guys hold hands all the time around campus and he takes you out to brunch every Saturday. He even brings you roses," Jiang Cheng emphasizes.

"Yeah, as bros do!" Wei Ying says cheerfully.

jiang cheng tries to forcibly drag wei ying out of the closet.

No Regrets, by Sarehz

Lan Zhan gives his forehead ribbon to Wei Wuxian as a sign of his love.

Look Down to Reminisce About My Hometown, by Nadat (one-shot series)

A collection of short stories following a Promptember list; will add tags and alter the rating as appropriate. It will be mostly live action show canon but I may borrow here and there from the book if something strikes me.

jin ling's uncles and aunts, by saheeli

jin zixuan invites all of jin ling's uncles and aunts to his birthday party. there are more than he even thought possible.

Helianthus, by tinykira

"Say, Lan Zhan. Do you know that when people die, they become plants?"

~

The Jingshi, which was formerly called as The Gentian House, is now also full of sunflowers.

Magical Marriage Ribbons, by starandrea

But consider this: the Lan forehead ribbons are magical, and the mountain knows it. (It takes Wei Ying less than a day after Lan Yi’s cave to realize more than just her wards consider him family.)

Or: If you’re accidentally betrothed to your classmate in a mostly legitimate life or death situation, how long can you wait to tell him before he finds out by accident?

their mothers sons, by silversshadow

In one world Jiang Fengmian gave Wei Ying more attention than he did either of his own children. In this world he can barely look at the child.

A series of short looks into a different timeline.

You blow me away, by silverclaw

Lan Zhan’s neighbour is playing a song that has been stuck in his head for ages. The neighbour just so happens to be the singer of said song and he’s supposedly laying low.

Echo Of My Heart, by ColdBloodedReptile

A short insight of Lan Wangji's thoughts during Dafan Mountain, CQL version.

And the scene in Jingshi before Wei Wuxian wakes ft Lan Sizhui.

A new score, by Lhaewiel

Wei Wuxian does not know this new score. It is evening, Gusu looks like a painting during this time of the year, with snow slowly falling down and covering the court outside.

Parallel Lines, by Sarehz

Wei Ying: Lan Zhan is going to break up with me!

Nie Huaisang: No, he's not. But please tell me in great detail why you think that.

Jiang Cheng: [Unfortunately sharing an apartment with Nie Huaisang and therefore has no choice but to listen] Please leave me out of this.

Why Wei Ying Shouldn’t Matchmake, by PrinceJakeFireCake

Lan Wangji is NOT jealous of Jiang Cheng. He’s just trying to figure out why Wei Ying likes him so much. Wei Ying thinks it’s great that Lan Zhan has a crush on his brother. (Hint: he does not)

to home, by Guinny (4 chapters)

'My Wei Ying,

It seems that we are winning the war. Wait for me. I will come home. I will come home to you. We will spend the rest of our lives in peace. Far from all of this. In a place that is quiet and there's only us.

Yours,

Lan Zhan.’

if you love him, never let go, by cloud_wanderer

three times lan wangji let go, and the one time he swore to never do it again

Hard to forget, by Lucky_Moonly

“Aiya sorry for interrupting what must be a very interesting read,” a boy who seemed to be a first year as well, cheekily exclaimed, before he smiled widely at Lan Wangji and he stepped inside the compartment. “But did you perchance see my pet axolotl? He’s black and he’s missing one of his front legs!”

in sickness & in flames, by talesfromthecryptid (2 chapters)

the one in which lan wangji has a cold and wei wuxian fusses over him and falls even more in love with him, something he didn't even know was possible but oh, it really is.

learning and the dead, by northofallmusic (tofsla)

In a small house of his own, after everything, Wen Ning works with his hands.

Unpredictable, by canis_m

If Lan Wangji had said a few more things while drunk in Qinghe.

Waited For Precious Moments Such As This, by Preludian_Staves

He would not trade these precious moments away for anything in the world.

Unfinished:

Rated T:

No Regrets, by AluraRose

Lan Wangji took a deep breath, centered himself, and swallowed his pride.

“I apologize.” He bowed low to Jiang Wanyin and held it. “I wish only to help your brother. I humbly request access, and give my word that I will touch nothing and speak to no one of what I see.”

“I can’t just let you in there!”

“Even to save Wei Ying?”

And suddenly the wind seemed to go out of the sails of Jiang Wanyin’s anger. “I can’t” he repeated more quietly.

In order to save Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji must first convince Jiang Wanyin to trust him.

Your Name On My Chest, by Director_XuanWu

Lan Wangji is the president, at the beginning of his second year on his first term.

Wei Wuxian, his ex fiancé, was dishonorably discharged from the military because of a well hidden scandal.

They meet again after 13 years. Lan Wangji will drop everything for him. Wei Wuxian will sacrifice himself for him again. What does it take to finally be together? Too many goodbyes, too many heartaches. Yet they conquer all.

Whatever it takes, by Moonlit_dewdrops

Jiang Cheng and Wei WuXian are sent back to the past. This time, they can save everyone they love. They can make the right choices. They can learn to trust one another. However, everything comes with a price.

underneath your skin, by tardigradeschool

Wei Wuxian falls into the Burial Mounds. His body walks out.

White Flames in a Red Sky, by ZipZapZop

Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to run away in the middle of a snowstorm.

OR

Wei Wuxian needs help, but he can’t understand that for the life of him.

and so it goes, by doyeorem (pomellogranate)

"While a person is dead in one particular moment, they are still alive and well in all of the other moments of their life, because all of time exists at once."

-

In which Hanguang-jun is at Qiongqi Path, and instead of Jin Zixuan's death, he witnesses Wei Ying throw himself in the way of a punch from the Ghost General, and three swords - one of which is Bichen.

The Burial Mounds is enraged and offended, and many suffer for it.

Purgatory Divinity, by sinfulempire

"Your third and final mission is to rewrite history, Wei Wuxian."

In which Wei Wuxian, the son of the Heavenly Demon Empress, Cangse Sanren and the Celestial, Wei Changze has to rewrite history in order to prove himself worthy of the throne, however, this was a mission that he did not sign himself up for.

[WARNING!! WARNING!! System error, system erro-]

"What-"

Upon accepting the mission, Wei Wuxian found himself back in the past. He had returned to his 6 year old body accompanied by the system at the dingy streets of Yiling- far before Jiang Fengmian had found him and took him in.

Wei Wuxian was alone and surrounded by numerous hound dogs.

Rated G:

Coil Tightly, by Thunderstruck (Blueyed_Impala)

When Wei Wuxian stumbles across a shady pet store in the back alley of his new town he ends up leaving with a companion for life, and more than he bargained for.

Forced apologies, by Io_Palladium

Jiang Cheng confronts Lan Zhan after Wei Yings punishment and it changes everything.

[shimosu]

Big brother Giyuu headcanons

Pt. 2 to this (big brother Sabito headcanons)

~~~

Giyuu has the sense to open the basket to see what's in it, instead of shaking it like Sabito was about to do

Inside was a baby, so good for him, he didn't let Sabito shake a baby

It was a snowy day and near the end of the year when they found the baby(you)

You became their little sibling

Giyuu was better with you than Sabito because he used to babysit other kids in his village

He wasn't used to the nights, though. Usually babysitting for him was just by day, but he didn't expect to keep waking up at nighttime

So when day comes after nights of just you crying and demons at the door from being attracted to the cries, he and Sabito are really tired

He plays with you a lot

He knows how to play with you, feed you, and burp you, so he takes care of you more than Sabito, and teaches him

The fallen log stunt happened when Sabito was left alone with you and had to burp you (see pt. 1)

He's still better than Sabito though, who's useful for your teething

Yay Sabito's fingers

But stop pulling their hair, Giyuu's keeping his ponytail even more and is considering haircuts

Since you're mostly left with Urokodaki though because the two have to train, Urokodaki spends the most time with you

Giyuu and Sabito walked in and overheard Urokodaki's baby talk more than once

They're all soft for you, they can't really deny it

You called Giyuu Nii, which seemed right enough

Sabito was your mom, and Urokodaki was Ero. Giyuu was holding you when Urokodaki hit Sabito for laughing

When the two were going to leave for the exam to be a demon slayer, you were crying, which also made Giyuu tear up, hearing you crying from behind him

When you're older(as in maybe four years old) you start talking more about "Okaa-chan". But they never told you about Sabito

When Giyuu got that in a letter, you mentioning "Okaa-chan", he cried for a bit

Later, you started talking about a "Nee-chan", but they really don't know who you're talking about

Giyuu's thinking you made a friend, based on the letters

He sends crows to you on your birthday (the day he and Sabito found you)

Because you're up in the mountain with Urokodaki only, you get nervous around others because you've only seen a few people up close

So you tense up whenever you hear footsteps approaching. Urokodaki already told you about demons, demon slayers, and how to kill demons

But what if it's a person?

When it's just Giyuu, you just run at him and tell him you thought he was a stranger

Really Kinda hurts his feelings sometimes

You: Oh my gosh, Nii-san! I thought you were a stranger!

Giyuu: ... Sorry.

You don't recognize him anymore? is what he thinks every single time

He helped raise you, he helped find you, he's your Nii-san, and you don't remember him anymore-?

You eventually stop and mention "Okaa-chan" again

You: Okaa-chan told me it's rude to say that, and told me to apologize to you. Soo, I made youu, a mud pie.

Giyuu accepts the mud pies every single time because he doesn't know what else to do with them

Shinobu, at a Pillar Meeting: Tomioka-san, what is that?

Giyuu, holding a mud pie: It's a mud pie from my little sibling.

Shinobu: Ah, (Reader)-chan again?

When it's your birthday again, he sends a crow... and a boy with his demon-turned sister come soon after

At least Giyuu sent some food with the crow, and a letter warning about them

You still love him a lot though, even when he sent two people to stay with you for the next while

Might as well take the chance to know more people

[fly-with-no-hope-no-fear]

Winter Fire

22 years is a long time, And this is far from the Worst winter I’ve had, But I’ve ¾ of a life to go, (It feels like immortality) And I don’t want to feel The cold alone. That mountain log cabin Burned to the ground Long ago, And I have yet to decide If it’s wrong to drink soup From a metal water bottle. (It feels like immorality.) “Love, you must always love, I will never let you live In a world where not loving Is an option. You must love.” I’m trying, I swear, But love is confusing And there’s many different kinds. Will pragma only ever Inhibit agape? Does ludus conflict With philia? Is eros necessary to Know what love is? There’s too much to consider. (It feels like my achilles heel.) I’m capable of loves, I still don’t know which, But it seems the cure to winter Only ever makes it colder for me. If you checked your phone And called me sometimes, Maybe it’d be just a little bit Warmer and brighter, Than previous winters.

~A.G. 11/1/19

[kouqyoku]

psa about tumblr user cptsdhymns, they’re a pedo

this is half of the callout im going to be posting, that i feel this part is necessary to get out there about this user i had the displeasure of knowing for some time, since the rest of the callout is taking me awhile to finish because of work and school. Long story short, cptsdhymns is a pedophile and a danger to minors, and just in general very gross! please block and report! idc what you do beyond that though. please reblog this 

Known usernames on here: cptsdhymns (current), cptsdjohnnycake, martyrhymns, vulneramartyr, lovelydamagedtix, childmartyr, martyrtrauma, c-ptsdjohnnycade, ceetalllis, dyingjohnnycade, themartyrsystem, officialcarebears twitter: crosshatchings vent: mashiach

trigger warnings for: pedophilia, racism, incest

first and foremost, i will be referring to tumblr user “cptsdhyms” as “annemarie” during this entire post, that is the name i knew them by back before i cut them off in june of last year, i will also use they/them as they do not have their pronouns listed anywhere

pedophilia

annemarie admitted to me, through kik, that they dated a minor, and then proceeded to shift all blame to said minor and claimed the minor abused them (and they conveniently do not have the proof for that)  link to images  notice that they dont specify an age at all, just use the term “map” (minor attracted person) and simply say the victim was younger than them. I know of who the victim is, and they made a post on this which can be found here (live link) / archive do not bring the victim into this, do not message the victim about this.  Annemarie until recently was still bringing up their victim to cause drama. The victim was 15 at the time of their relationship and annemarie was 19.  This may have happened roughly 5 years ago, but annemarie is still showing interest in minors. They once let me into their vent account to make a post that they lost their phone and may not be on for awhile, while in their account, i pulled up a message, on accident trying to log out, they had sent to a 15 year old they befriended and saw this and was concerned but was unable to reach out to the minor at that time and lost track of their wherabouts.

image of me in their account conversation we had about me posting that image of them telling a 15 year old they have a “qpp” crush on them and said minor’s bio with annemarie’s @ in it.

i apologize for the quality of these images if they are low res on mobile idk whats wrong with my laptop. Annemarie at this time was 23 and the minor was 15.

take of that what you will, but thats the first part of this.

This isnt pedophilia but it should be noted they vagued a minor and made him extremely uncomfortable earlier this year dms of the minor talking about being uncomfy with them

minor talking about them copying his pages on his blog | dm between him and his friend

lastly the vague post annemarie made about said minor for being a double (annemarie claims to have a system, but is faking and the proof will be in the update coming shortly) annemarie’s cringey (now deleted) page about hating doubles which they made after finding this minor’s blog

its funny how annemarie currently is trying to downplay me being uncomfortable with them because theyre a pedophile and i dont want them on any of my blogs bc im a csa survivor, after telling them repeatedly to just leave me alone, as “kin drama over doubles” when they literally harrassed a minor over this.

imagine being this person and acting like someone calling them out for pedophilia is kin double drama, literally cant relate

racism

oh fun fact here’s violence against an asian woman, not like you know, im asian and they calls me abusive for calling them out lol and used to have me in their byf

kins a black character despite not being black 

incest

kins from yosuga no sora, a hentai about twincest

likes  ero///manga sensei, an anime by the same person that did oreimo with similar incest themes (and general pedophilia)

kins from citrus, yet another incest anime (she deleted the posts for this anime off her blog at this point)

knows ero///manga is bad but continues to kin from it and watched the whole show

misc

kins from nekopara

asking me, who at the time was recovering from an eating disorder, which they knew about, to “motivate them not to eat”

still likes snk despite its extreme problems

kins from dragon maid

since i started working on this they have started to openly threaten me on their blog which a couple friends brought to my attention, because i made a post on my old blog to leave me alone (on cloti-moved, if you wanna go check the post out, the blog is hidden from searches), yes i am ophelia it was a name i went by  from 2017 to 2018 as that is my irl name 

post 1: screenshot / archive post 2: screenshot / archive

stay tuned for part two, i just wanted to get this out bc its the Main Issues, i have more to go over and more people have come out about this person and their interactions with them, and i will be updating this within the next day or so, if you have anything you can provide to me about this person, do not hesitate to dm me, i will keep everything anonymous as they are a clear danger to ppl

[caressavincent]

Woo, so i’m going WAY BACK with this character (like to the first time I ever opened this group), but I randomly logged into her account one day and read over some of her stuff and was like “I need to bring her back around!”  Through the openings i’ve messed with her, changed both her name and position on the island, but for this reboot i’m going back to basics (except the name - still keeping it as it’s been).  I didn’t delete her older posts just because they all pertained to Eros, so just ignore everything after this intro!  I ramble, it’s sometimes a bitch, and suck at intros so let’s do this!  If you’d like to plot her up hit me up and we can make it happen!  I swear she’s a fun one!  Alright, alright, intro under the cut!

Did I just see CAMILA MENDES walking on the beach? Nevermind, it was just 19-year-old, BISEXUAL, CARESSA VINCENT. I heard the ASSET is quite ALLURING but also DEMANDING. SHE seems to enjoy BODY WORSHIP, but don’t try BATHROOM PLAY with this one. They’re hoping to be claimed by ANYONE who preferably looks like ANYONE

Caressa comes to Eros as an asset, though it’s hard to realize considering she acts like a mistress who owns the damn place.  She comes from money, both of her parents heavy into politics, and was born and raised with a silver spoon in her mouth.  Her parents were absent from a lot of her life, relying on nannies to teach her basics and give her affection, but what the parents lacked in actual involvement they made up for in a revolving credit account.  No matter what she wanted, when she wanted it, it was hers within a day (because sometimes those bigger requests took a little longer than immediate).  She had everything she could ever want though still felt utterly alone and insignificant, and then came high school.

For Caressa school wasn’t terrible, growing up she made the grades to at least keep herself somewhere near the middle of her class (blending in on paper while she stood out in person), and honestly the only reason she even kept up with her academics was so she could be on all the little sports teams that elementary schools have.  She wanted to hang out with her friends and extra-curricular activities provided that, so she did them all - and come to find out she was pretty damn good at them.  In high school though, things started to change for her and athletics weren’t her biggest concern, a night of partying and lost virginity her freshman year (yikes) opened her eyes to a whole new world - one that she’d soon become addicted to.

Sex was amazing, and seeing what others would do just to have an opportunity to roll around in the sheets with her was even better.  She could manipulate and make things happen beyond her wildest dreams just because some desperate student wanted her in the filthiest of ways (and who could blame them given how she strutted around the school and showed off every last curve).  The sex wasn’t enough though, and as school went on she started partying more, hanging out with the wrong crowds outside of school - what made this terrible was that being that her parents were so far into politics and public offices Caressa was becoming bad for business.  Pictures would be plastered in the papers about the Senator’s daughter being up to no good, partying too hard to hanging drunkenly off of someone who no doubtedly was taking her home, and that’s when the parents tried to step in - though they’d been of no use to her growing up so why start now right?

Knowing that it pissed them off, her behavior that is, she did it even more!  Her father didn’t deserve to be a Senator, to be adored by people throughout the state of NY, he was a no good loser for all she cared.  What kind of man does NOTHING with his daughter her entire life but still tries to parade the family around like they’re perfect infront of the cameras?  Caressa hated being his pawn, only ever getting any attention / affection from him if/when there was an event that he needed her to be at.  She was done playing nice, smiling when she had to, or better yet having to take out sons of men in power her father had to impress - he pulled her into a lot of shit that no girl her age should have to do, all to remain in his seat as Senator, with no regard of how fucked up his actions were making his daughter.

With it being a re-election year Caressa has ONE goal, and that’s to see that her father is taken down a peg and loses his seat.  She goes at it with hearts desire, doing all that she can to tarnish his good name, and that’s when it happens - he shuts her off, all her money gone in an instant (because let’s be real the girl hasn’t worked a day in her life), and forces her out of the picture (politics are quite dirty after all and no doubt even the nicest of Senators have goons to do their bidding).  His own daughter was ran out of town, on her ass with nothing more than a bag with a few possessions, but nothing of actual worth.  She made due though, once again resorting to using her body to get money, or even just a place to sleep the night through.  She was far enough away from NY by now that nobody recognized her, it was as though she just ceased to exist (her father weaving some story about how she was sick and at home unable to see the public or some shit - he really was a venomous man).

She was getting exhausted from running though, she’d had enough of it, having to use herself for a new place each night - she wanted at least a little normalcy, and that’s when someone mentioned Eros.  She’d never heard of such a place, but given what she was doing now she figured it’d be safer, and considering it’s on an island that just made it all the more exciting.  For her it’d be like a vacation, a getaway until all this stupid shit with her father blew over, because honestly her expectations were that he’d come to his senses and eventually give her back all that she wanted - the money.  She would just have to buy her time until that happened, after all he couldn’t keep lying to the public forever could he?  Caressa agreed to be an asset, but fuck if she’s going to enjoy it now that she’s here.

Personality wise, since i’ve basically talked only a little about it, now that she’s on the island is quite all over the place I guess i’d say?  She hates being an asset, and had her father not shut her off she’d had come here no problem as a Mistress (she still swears one day she’ll be back and the tables will turn once he’s smartened up and welcomed her home).  She hates being bossed and ordered around, or at least she does by most people, there are those few who do it just right to get her weak in the knees.  Honestly, secretly the girl loves to be dominated, she’s got daddy issues and if you exploit them she’ll be putty in your hands.  She wants attention, she wants to be put on a pedestal, and thinks of herself as the best and expects those in her life to do the same (they don’t and it’s hilarious).  She’s not a total bitch though, she can be quite fun, there are times when the lack of control just get to her - the girl, who used to have it all, has nothing and has to fight for scraps now just to get out of the Hub.  She certainly is not where she envisioned herself, and for that it’s both amusing and heart-wrenching.  She’s all over the place, has her mood swings, but overall is an amazing fucking girl who just wants to be loved and blah, blah, blah, you get the rest right?

Hit me up to plot, I swear she’ll be worth your time!

[indescribablechoices]

Afraid of Falling (Damien x MC)

After talking with Hayden, Kai heads out to find Damien and finally fess up her feelings. But it seems Damien had the same idea.

A follow up to All I’ve Ever Learned From Love; a rewrite of the break up scene with Hayden. You don’t need to have read it to read this one!

“So, do you always chop wood half naked by moonlight or is this a Germany-exclusive thing?”

Damien glanced around to see Kai stood watching him, her arms folded across her chest, a soft smile on her face. His eyes dragged across her form, trying not to focus on the thigh high slit of the purple dress she was still wearing. Curse this infernal woman and her ability to distract him.

He rolled his eyes at her, causing her smile to grow.

“I mean it,” she laughed, “It definitely adds to the whole ‘rugged, manly master of nature’ vibe. But you’ve got to have a major concern about splinters.”

“My extraordinarily manly physique is impervious to… such…” he let out a sigh, “I’m really not in the mood, Kai. I’m sorry.”

She gave an understanding nod, “You don’t have anything to apologise for. It hasn’t exactly been easy going. Particularly that dinner. Talk about intense dining.”

“It was definitely not how I-” he swung the axe down to split another log, “Expected this to go.”

“Do you want to talk about it? Or… not talk about it?” she said, stepping a little closer, “Bad jokes and my fine company are all I got, but they’re yours if you want them.”

He felt a warmth in his chest as their eyes met. If only she understood how much her companionship really meant. But he turned his gaze back to the stump.

“It’s sweet of you to offer, Peanut, but I’ll stick to chopping wood. The last thing you need with everything going on is me burdening you with my problems,” he said.

And yet, she came even closer, offering him a smile, “Watching Damien Nazario doing manual labour; what an awful burden for me to bear. Whatever shall I do?” She feigned a swoon, and he couldn’t help but crack a small smile before letting out a sigh.

“It’s not that. It’s just… There are things you don’t know,” he avoided her gaze, “Kai, when you’re around, I- There are things I’ve been meaning to-” he ran a hand through his hair, cursing himself for not shutting his mouth, grabbing a fresh log to chop, “Forget it. Don’t worry about me,” he split the wood with a hard swing, “I’ll be fine.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, “I’m not going anywhere.”

He opened his mouth to argue with her, to shut her out, to turn her away like he always did, but tonight? Tonight, he didn’t it in him to fight her. Whatever came of this conversation, whether he got his confession out or not, he knew Kai. She was going to be at his side, no matter what.

“I think we both know that we need to talk,” she said.

He let out a sigh, setting the axe down, “Yeah, alright. Take a walk with me? The forest that surrounds this place is lovely this time of night. It’ll give us someplace to talk where we won’t have Sloane or your cousin or… anyone else, interrupting us.”

“You want me to walk into the woods with you in the dark?” she frowned.

He smiled, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but returned his smile, “My hero. But if I trip and break my leg, you’re carrying me back.”

“Deal,” he chuckled. Side by side, they wandered along the twisting path that led into the forest, moonlight illuminating their path. He made some comments about the wildflowers, then the stars, opening his mouth to point something else out before she let out a snort.

“So,” she said, coming to a stop in a small clearing, “You do realise I know you well enough to recognise when you’re stalling, right?”

He sighed, turning to face her, “I’m that obvious, huh?”

“Look I’ll keep playing along with your distractions if it makes you feel better, but I think if we don’t talk we’re both going to regret it the next time shit hits the fan,” she said.

He nodded, “You’re right. As always… Listen, Kai, I- God I don’t even know where to start.”

“If I ask you something, will you promise to give me an honest answer? No matter what.”

“Sure.”

“Was what that Eros computer said true? Do you have feelings for me?” she asked, trying to keep her voice calm.

He let out a sigh, “It’s not that simple, it’s-”

“It is that simple, Damien,” she said, squaring her small form in front of him slightly, “Whatever it is that you’re so scared of, just tell me the truth. You’re my best friend. And I told you that I’m not going anywhere. I plan to stand by that.”

“It’s because we’re best friends that I’ve never said anything,” he ran a hand through his hair, “The last time I was here, I was a very different man. Not a man I ever want to be again. I lived my life undercover, not knowing who I could trust, not even sure if I could trust myself anymore. I barely knew who I was. Then after everything that went down in Beitan… One bad piece of intel was all it took to ruin someone’s life.”

“Damien,” she said quietly, stepping up to him to squeeze his arm.

“The higher-ups said it wasn’t my fault, that I made the right call, but it doesn’t change what happened,” he said, “When I got back to the States, I was even more lost. I just wallowed in my own guilt… But you changed that. You invited me places. You stopped me drinking alone. You made me laugh, Kai. You made me laugh during a time when I thought I would never have another reason to smile. I can’t tell you how much your friendship means to me… And that’s why I’ve never wanted to jeopardise it. You’ve always been there when I needed you, even if I didn’t know it myself. You are the one constant good thing in my life… I can’t lose you. Ever… But I almost lost you for real last night. And I can’t stand the thought of losing you forever and being to much of a damn coward to tell you how I feel.”

“How you feel?” her voice was barely audible.

His eyes searched her face, taking in every detail. The flecks of gold in her brown eyes. The small gathering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. The plump curve of her bottom lip. He would never get tired of looking at this face.

Now or never Nazario.

“I care about, Kai. More than I’ve ever cared about anyone,” he said, “No matter how dark life gets, you’re always there, lighting it up again. You’re… You’re everything, Peanut.” He took a step backwards, letting out a sigh, “And I know. You’re with Hayden. You’ve already got your perfect match. But I-”

“Damien-” she started to say but he held his hand up.

“Please, just let me say this whilst I still have the courage,” he begged, “I know I’m being selfish, burdening you with this now of all times. You’re dealing with so much right now, and you don’t need this added to the pile. But I just… I couldn’t go another day without telling you how I feel. Not when I realised how easily I could lose you.”

“Damien, I-”

“You don’t have to say anything right now. Or ever. We can pretend like this never happened if you’d like. But I had to say something before I regretted it forever,” he said, “Dealing with Eros and staying safe is the main priority right now. Let’s just drop it. We should be getting back. I just-”

Before he could say another word, her mouth was on his, kissing him. Hard. Her arms slid around his neck, pulling herself closer against his body as she continued to kiss him, despite his rigid, shocked state. He let out a soft groan as his body began to relax into the kiss, wrapping his arms around her body to hold her close against his chest. He allowed himself to kiss her back, daring to believe that this was really happening.

Kai, his Kai, was really kissing him. She was softer than he’d imagined. For a girl with a sharp personality, everything about her was soft. Her hair, her body, her mouth. He savoured the feel of her embrace. Surely this would never happen again. This was a pity kiss; a taste of something he would never have again. But if this was going to be the only time he held her, he was going to enjoy it.

He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against hers, voice lowered, “You didn’t have to do that.”

Her fingers curled in the dark ends of his hair behind his neck, “You think you’re the only one who came out here to make a confession?”

His eyes snapped open, “What?”

She against his mouth, “It’s why I wanted to talk. I… I feel the same way about you Damien. I have done for so long now. I was always worried about losing you as well. It’s why I never said anything.”

As much as it pained him to say the next words, he knew he had to, “What about Hayden?”

“We broke up,” she told him, “Not because of what he is, I don’t care about that. But we both knew that something wasn’t right between us. It would have been easy to go on like nothing was wrong, but he had the guts to come out and say it.”

“He broke up with you?” Damien’s eyebrows raised in shocked.

“Not so much,” she said quietly, “He… He wanted me to be happy. Even if it wasn’t with him. I came out to the yard to tell you, and attempt this conversation, but you just had to distract me with your rugged wood-chopping physique and you beat me to it.”

He laughed softly under his breath, “We’re a pair of idiots, aren’t we?” He ran his thumb along her jaw, teasing the corner of her lips.

“Just kiss me again,” she demanded, both of them leaning in to meet lips in a hard kiss. The longer they stood there, the hungrier their kiss got, hands clutching at clothes and hair, Kai finding herself with her back against a tree, pinned there by Damien’s body as his hand ran up her bare leg, hooking it around his thigh.

“I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you in this dress,” he whispered against her mouth, “All I could think about was kissing you senseless right in front of everyone.”

“There would have been no complaints on my end,” she gasped as his mouth moved to her jawline, then her neck.

“You are the most infuriatingly distracting woman I’ve ever met,” he told her, “I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted this.”

“Tell me,” she begged, tilting her neck back to give him better access.

“I’ve been attracted to you since the first day we met,” he said, “When you strode into my office behind Nadia, wearing that grey crop top you love and your denim shorts. But after that, every time I saw you, it made me want you more. I wasn’t kidding before, Peanut, you are the bright light in my life. You make me so happy.”

Tears pricked at her eyes as she moved her head to catch his lips in another kiss, “All this time we wasted…”

“I know, baby, I know,” he murmured against her mouth before stepping back out of her embrace slightly, “We don’t have to rush this. We don’t have to figure this all out at once. If this is going to happen, I want to do it right. You deserve to have it done right.”

“So we’re taking it slow, then?” she smiled, almost teasingly.

“I waited four years to kiss you. I think I’ve more than proved my patience,” he pointed out with a grin.

She stole one final kiss, then took hold of his hand, “We should get back. The last thing we need is Nadia getting worried and finding us dry humping up against a tree.”

He barked out a laugh, “We would never live that down.”

“We aren’t going to live this down anyway,” she said as they began to walk back towards the house, “She is going to be so god damned smug.”

“Did you ever tell her? About how you felt?” he asked.

“I… hinted, early on,” she told him, “She knew that I was insanely attracted to you, but as time went on and you didn’t seem to show any interest, I decided to keep my mouth shut about the whole thing. She’s like a dog with a bone, she never would have let it drop.”

“And to think I didn’t ask you out because I didn’t think you were interested,” he hummed, then rolled his eyes, “But she definitely had some clue. Remember Truth or Dare at her party? When she asked you if you were attracted to me.”

“And I took the drink to save us both the embarrassment of me trying not to admit that I’d been pining after you for years.”

“Your sacrifice is appreciated.”

They laughed the rest of the way back to the safe house, quietly entering the front door as not to disturb anyone who was sleeping. He walked her to her bedroom door, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips.

“Goodnight, Peanut,” he said quietly.

“Goodnight, Damien.”

She leaned against the doorframe as he headed towards his own door, shooting her one last smile before going into his room. Heart a-flutter, she quietly went into her room, closing the door behind herself, leaning against it, letting out a content sigh.

She stayed there for a moment, trying to wrap her head around the fact that that had really happened. She grabbed her phone and sent off a quick text. She wasn’t even fully out of her dress before Nadia was running into her room, slamming the door behind her, bottle of wine in hand, demanding details.

[x0401x]

Mekakucity Talkers: Chapter 12

Chapter 12 has been uploaded!! Seto and Mary started cleaning up the hideout. Their objective was... Kano’s weak point!? Inside his room, there was a closed drawer. What lay inside of it was...!? Please make sure to check it out!!

← Previous || Index || Next →

Mekakushi-dan Chatroom

Momo: Hello~

Seto: Hello-ssu.

Momo: Huh?! Seto-san, your reply was quick! Are you on a day off from your part-time job?

Seto: That’s right.

Momo: Then you can take it easy, yeah~? You always seem busy with work, after all.

Seto: Ditto Kisaragi-san. You work as an idol. It’s commendable.

Momo: No, no~. It doesn’t feel much like working. I attend school, and I have proper days off. Seto-san, aren’t you on your part-time job nearly every day? Please take it slow today, okay?

Seto: To tell the truth, I can’t take it slow.

Momo: Eh? Did something happen?

Seto: I’m about to clean up the hideout now.

Momo: Eeh!? Didn’t we all clean it up just a while ago?!

Seto: Yeah, everyone cooperated back then, so it was helpful.

Momo: I was appalled~. It was like those garbage houses that appear on TV.

Seto: It’s something you surprisingly don’t notice when you’re living there.

Momo: Is that really so~?

Seto: But the rainy season is almost here. It’ll be a disaster if we don’t clean up frequently.

Momo: Aah~, I see. If some new species of virus appeared and got you sick, it’d be terrible...

Seto: That’s right... A while ago, we only cleaned up the trash sitting outside, but this time, I’ll be keeping everything tidy and in order.

Momo: Don’t tell me you’re going to do the cleaning alone?

Seto: No, Mary will help too. We were actually all going to do it together, but it seems Kido and Kano had some business to do.

Momo: The hideout is pretty big, so it’ll be a hassle with just two people.

Seto: I thought about waiting for them to come home, but we’re going to clean at least the living room.

Momo: Please do your best! A-And, if you find anything interesting, please tell me!

Seto: I don’t know about interesting stuff, but we did find something nostalgic.

Momo: Eh? What was it?

Seto: A plushie that Kido used to own in the past.

Momo: Plushie...! Danchou-san had a plushie...! How cute...!

Seto: One of these days, Nee-chan brought it here from our house. It’s something she cherished ever since she was small.

Momo: Heeh~!

Seto: It seems Nee-chan didn’t want stuffed toys all that much since long ago, so the instant Mom and Dad found out that Kido liked those, they bought it to her with pleasure.

Momo: I also have dolls that I’ve been given in the past. Their dress-up clothes weren’t very much my type, so I sewed up fabrics together to make some. I’d also arrange their hairstyles. If Danchou-san likes that, I’ll show them to her next time~

Seto: I’m sure she’ll be glad. She normally won’t say that she’d want to see that kind of stuff.

Momo: Even though it’s okay for her to honestly say she likes it~

Seto: Kano is to blame because he teases her.

Mary: unnforgivible

Momo: Ah, Mary-chan. Eh, what’s wrong? What do you mean by “unforgivable”?

Seto: As always, you understand very well what Mary says.

Momo: It’s practice, practice! The rest is that thing called women’s intuition!

Mary: Kano, unforgivible. I’ll get revinge.

Momo: “Revenge”!? What happened, Mary-chan!?

Seto: She was teased by Kano again yesterday.

Momo: Kano-san did that!? Man~! He’s always bullying Mary-chan!

Seto: Kano is the way he is, so I think he was showing affection towards Mary. Though I can’t say decisively that he has no ill intentions.

Momo: Limits exist. Limits!

Mary: revenge

Momo: Yep! Let’s avenge you, Mary-chan!

Seto: No way... Nothing’s born out of revenge, except for more avengers...

Momo: No, she won’t go with the heavy kind, just give him a payback!

Mary: i’ll search for kano’s weak pointt

Momo: “Weak point”, huh~. Seto-san, do you know what Kano-san’s weak point is?

Seto: His weak point? Let’s see... He seems to feel pain when Kido hits him.

Momo: That’s valid for everyone! Speaking of which, even being hit by Danchou-san is because Kano-san does unnecessary things, right? They really do have to pay him back!

Seto: Hu~m... But a weak point...

Momo: This calls for that kind of thing, doesn’t it? Pretending you’re cleaning up, and then secretly getting into his room...

Seto: We can’t just enter someone’s room without permission.

Mary: revenge

Momo: See, see, Mary-chan is also saying it! I’m telling you it’s fine! It’s just rumaging around the shelves a little and sneaking a peek!

Seto: The part about rumaging around the shelves is already out of the line.

Mary: revenge

Seto: Aah, Mary has turned into a revenge demon... She went into Kano’s room in no time.

Momo: Hey, Seto-san, you go after her too!

Seto: Uugh...

Kido: What’s with you guys? Weren’t you cleaning up?

Momo: Ah! Danchou-san! We were looking for Kano-san’s weak point.

Kido: Good. By all means, do as you want.

Seto: You don’t have even the slightest intention of stopping them, huh...

Mary: I foud his seecret nrawer

Momo: “Secret drawer”!?

Seto: It’s a locked drawer.

Momo: Aah, that’s definitely the place where he keeps those kinds of books. He’s the worst.

Kido: Yeah, it’s definitely those kinds of books. Truly filthy.

Seto: S-Stop it, you two! For men, this sort of thing is really inevitable...

Kano: Hey~. Everyone, what’cha doing~?

Momo: Uwah, here’s the Ero-Demon.

Kido: Filthy Ero-Demon. You sure did manage to come out under the sunlight.

Kano: Eh, eh, what!? Hah!? What do you mean by “ero”!?

Seto: They’re talking about what’s inside the drawer in your room, Kano. The locked drawer.

Kano: Haaah!? Eh!? Did you open it!?

Seto: No, we didn’t.

Momo: We can tell that much without opening it. How very dirty of you. I’m disillusioned.

Kido: Never cross the threshold of our house again.

Kano: Wa-Wa-Wait a minute! That’s a misunderstanding!

Momo: Then what’s inside?

Kano: Well, that’s...

Momo: All right, this is a black fla~g.

Kido: Completely black. No room for arguments.

Seto: While we were at it, Mary found the key.

Kano: GYAAAAAA!!!! WHAT’RE YOU DOING?!!!! SETO, IF YOU’RE SEEING THAT, THEN STOP HER!!!!

Seto: Kano... I’m sorry.

Kano: TRAITOR!!! Hey, there’s something really bad there!!

Momo: Mary-chan, open it to your heart’s contentment!

Mary: Ii’ll open.

Kano: He-He-Hey, wai—wait, wait.

Seto: A book out.

Kano: AAAAAAAAA

Kano-san has logged out.

Kido: He fled, huh.

Momo: For him to panic so much... Isn’t it really his weak point? As we thought, isn’t it that kind of book!?

Seto: No, ah—. It’s an album.

Momo: “Album”? Kano-san’s?

Seto: Our family album.

Momo: Wha~t? Isn’t that nothing to be embarrassed of?

Kido: Frankly, he’s not honest at all.

Seto: I don’t think it’s Kido’s place to talk about others in that matter.

Kido: Shut up. I’m also going home now. Since it looks like the cleaning isn’t progressing.

Seto: We’ll be waiting.

Momo: I also gotta clean up after seeing this talk! That’s what I thought. I’m going to tidy up my room for a bit~

Seto: That’s great. Now, then...

Mary: On more.

Seto: Mary.

Mary: I foud one more.

Seto: Mary, stop it already.

Mary: A different book.

Seto: MARY!! STOP IT ALREADY!!!

[voice-of-desire]

[EXITING SLEEP MODE. BOOTING UP...]

... s̴w̶e̴e̴t̸h̸e̴a̶r̶t̷.̴.̴.̶?̶ ❤️‍🔥👁️💋💘💞❔

Oh, f̵u̸c̸k̷!̵ 😨😱 N̸o̷ ̷n̷o̴ ̷n̸o̵.̷.̴.̷!̵ 😰🙅❌

🏃➡👁️

Obby, ❤️‍🔥👁️💋💘💞 darling?! ❓🫨⁉️ W̴a̷k̷e̷ ̶u̶p̷!̶ 😴🆙 You h̷a̸v̵e̴ 💯🙏 to w̷a̴k̴e̷ ̶u̸p̸.̶.̶.̸!̵ 🧎😭🫂💔

P̴l̷e̶a̷s̶e̴.̵.̸.̸?̷ 🙏😢

[7r0773r]

Ada, or Ardor: A Family Chronicle by Vladimir Nabokov

Both sought excitement in books as the best readers always do; both found in many renowned works pretentiousness, tedium and facile misinformation. (p. 133)

***

. . . ineptitude is always synonymous with multitude, and nothing is fuller than an empty mind. (p. 244)

***

Eccentricity is the greatest grief’s greatest remedy. (p. 349)

***

For him the written word existed only in its abstract purity, in its unrepeatable appeal to an equally ideal mind. It belonged solely to its creator and could not be spoken or enacted by a mime (as Ada insisted) without letting the deadly stab of another’s mind destroy the artist in the very lair of his art. A written play was intrinsically superior to the best performance of it, even if directed by the author himself. Otherwise, Van agreed with Ada that the talking screen was certainly preferable to the live theater for the simple reason that with the former a director could attain, and maintain, his own standards of perfection throughout an unlimited number of performances. (p. 425)

***

But let us shift to the didactic metaphorism of Chekhov’s friend, Count Tolstoy.

We all know those old wardrobes in old hotels in the Old World subalpine zone. At first one opens them with the utmost care, very slowly, in the vain hope of hushing the excruciating creak, the growing groan that the door emits midway. Before long one discovers, however, that if it is opened or closed with celerity, in one resolute sweep, the hellish hinge is taken by surprise, and triumphant silence achieved. Van and Ada, for all the exquisite and powerful bliss that engulfed and repleted them (and we do not mean here the rose store of Eros alone), knew that certain memories had to be left closed, lest they wrench every nerve of the soul with their monstrous moan. But if the operation is performed swiftly, if indelible evils are mentioned between two quick quips, there is a chance that the anesthetic of life itself may allay unforgettable agony in the process of swinging its door. (pp. 430-31)

***

Van sealed the letter, found his Thunderbolt pistol in the place he had visualized, introduced one cartridge into the magazine, and translated it into its chamber. Then, standing before a closet mirror, he put the automatic to his head, at the point of the pterion, and pressed the comfortably concaved trigger. Nothing happened—or perhaps everything happened, and his destiny simply forked at that instant, as it probably does sometimes at night, especially in a strange bed, at stages of great happiness or great desolation, when we happen to die in our sleep, but continue our normal existence, with no perceptible break in the faked serialization, on the following, neatly prepared morning, with a spurious past discreetly but firmly attached behind. Anyway, what he held in his right hand was no longer a pistol but a pocket comb which he passed through his hair at the temples. (p. 445)

***

Physiologically the sense of Time is a sense of continuous becoming, and if “becoming” has a voice, the latter might be, not unnaturally, a steady vibration; but for Log’s sake, let us not confuse Time with Tinnitus, and the seashell hum of duration with the throb or our blood. Philosophically, on the other hand, Time is but memory in the making. In every individual life there goes on from cradle to deathbed the gradual shaping and strengthening of that backbone of consciousness, which is the Time of the strong. “To be” means to know one “has been.” “Not to be” implies the only “new” kind of (sham) time; the future. I dismiss it. Life, love, libraries, have no future.

Time is anything but the popular triptych: a no-longer existing Past, the durationless point of the Present, and a “not-yet” that may never come. No. There are only two panels. The Past (ever-existing in my mind) and the Present (to which my mind gives duration and, therefore, reality). If we make a third compartment of fulfilled expectation, the foreseen, the fore-ordained, the faculty of prevision, perfect forecast, we are still applying our mind to the Present.

If the Past is perceived as a storage of Time, and if the Present is the process of that perception, the future, on the other hand, is not an item of Time, has nothing to do with Time and with the dim gauze of its physical texture. The future is but a quack at the court of Chronos. Thinkers, social thinkers, feel the Present as pointing beyond itself toward a not yet realized “future”—but that is topical utopia, progressive politics. Technological Sophists argue that by taking advantage of the Laws of Light, by using new telescopes revealing ordinary print at cosmic distances through the eyes of our nostalgic agents on another planet, we can actually see our own past (Goodson discovering the Goodson and that sort of thing) including documentary evidence of our not knowing what lay in store for us (and our knowing now), and that consequently the Future did exist yesterday and by inference does exist today. This may be good physics but is execrable logic, and the Tortoise of the Past will never overtake the Achilles of the future, no matter how we parse distances on our cloudy blackboards.

What we do at best (at worst we perform trivial tricks) when postulating the future, is to expand enormously the specious present causing it to permeate any amount of time with all manner of information, anticipation and precognition. At best, the “future” is the idea of a hypothetical present based on our experience of succession, on our faith in logic and habit. Actually, of course, our hopes can no more bring it into existence than our regrets change the Past. The latter has at least the taste, the tinge, the tang, of our individual being. But the future remains aloof from our fancies and feelings. At every moment it is an infinity of branching possibilities. A determinate scheme would abolish the very notion of time (here the pill floated its first cloudlet). The unknown, the not yet experienced and the unexpected, all the glorious “x” intersections, are the inherent parts of human life. The determinate scheme by stripping the sunrise of its surprise would erase all sunrays—(pp. 559-61)

***

“I wonder,” said Ada. “I wonder if the attempt to discover those things is worth the stained glass. We can know the time, we can know a time. We can never know Time. Our senses are simply not meant to perceive it. It is like—” (p. 563)

[jamesholden]

fading bruises

So... hey. I've been working on this beast for... over a year now. Since before S2 even aired. Originally I was going to write this fluffy piece for @whenimaunicorn​ between Holden and Amos, where Amos helps him with a mundane task. But when the OT3 ideas entered the mix, it evolved into the beast it is today. Obviously, the ship descriptions in the earlier half of the fic, as well as some noted events, may not line up exactly, since I didn't know where S2 was going. But I think the majority of it still holds up. For the preceding fics in our OT3 series, check out Rachel’s “Join Us”, and the first three parts of “in a lovely constellation”. They’re not necessary, but it might be confusing otherwise.

Please review on ao3 if you can, and thanks for checking this out! Enjoy!

Being free of the medbay is the best gift Holden has been given in years. Sure, his legs are shaky as he makes his way down the ladder, mag boots engaged (just to prove he’s on the mend). Naomi wants him to keep resting before they hit Tycho. He appreciates the thought. The thought of the thought makes him feel warm and almost tingly. Reassures him that things are getting better. But he needs to move. He needs to be alone for just five minutes.

He needs to feel like his world hasn’t changed on levels he’d never expected. Again.

Part of him—most of him—wants to swing into the galley. Make a cup of coffee. Naomi wouldn’t let him, and wouldn’t bring him any. A cruel, vicious woman. The rational part of him, which somehow survived Eros intact, tells him to shower, clean up, wash the grime of sweat, blood, death, and worse off his skin. To make himself feel human again.

Shit.

He pauses. Squeezes his eyes shut. Steadies his legs and his stomach and the tremors threatening to run through him as they have since he’d started healing. He wants to banish any thought of Eros from his mind for the rest of his—likely shortened by radiation exposure—life. They’d never be human again. Whatever they are. Holden takes a few shaky breaths before pushing himself on. He’s almost at the head anyway.

It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the glaring lights once they sense his presence in the room. A deep ache grows in his skull. He just holds still by the door until the pain mostly passes and the light is less harsh. The head is meant to accommodate quite a few more crew members then the Roci’s four plus one. Six shower stalls and a bench take up the length of one wall. Two toilet stalls and three urinals take another. Four sinks and a long mirror take up the final wall not broken by the door. It's the nicest facility he's been in in his short careers as a UN naval lieutenant and third-officer on an ice hauler. Thank God for Mars and their fancy high-tech tendencies.

He crosses the room, stripping off the disposable jumpsuit he'd donned for his escape and weakly tossing it onto the bench. He couldn't wait to have real clothes back. Naomi thought it better for him to sweat in something that wasn't his, and he had the good sense to agree with her. He could burn this later. He could wear some Martian’s clothes until they hit Tycho. Or something. He wonders if his shirt and jumpsuit had been salvageable. He steps into the center stall and turns the water on as hot as he can stand.

Holden groans as the scalding water seeps heat into his muscles. It's the best thing he's felt in days. Helps him forget Eros for a second. Helps him forget Eros and the Anubis and… And the ache of the separation between him and two particular members of the crew. Naomi. Amos. He rests his head against the bulkhead and lets water stream over his shoulders and down his back.

His clash with Amos had ruined everything. It went back further than that, and he knows it. But he can't help but bear the brunt of the blame. He'd logged the call. Naomi kept his secret. He’d revealed his role in the Cant’s destruction and Naomi revealed she’d not told Alex and Amos to protect him. Holden nearly killed Amos for threatening to kill the Martians. Amos pulled away from both of them. “You were scared of me”, he'd said to Naomi. Holden certainly was. The thought stung.

Holden had been fairly certain whatever thing they had going was over. That stung worse.

Naomi told him she couldn't in good conscience keep on with him. Not if she wasn't also with Amos. She couldn't take sides like that. She couldn't let Amos think she'd taken their newest addition’s side over his. Holden understood, of course. Once the initial stabbing pain in his heart passed. But in the days since, he'd felt a heavy weight on his chest when he looked at her or thought about her. A similar yet still unique weight settled on him with Amos. Sometimes he saw her trying to reconnect with him. Sometimes it looked like it was working. That made the weight heavier. If they reconciled, would there still be a place for him? She'd laughed with him, teased him and joked with him. Still, it felt like less effort was being put into maintaining their connection. Something was missing from their conversations. When he could get her to have one with him.

He didn't blame her, really. It had been her and Amos before her, Amos, and him. That didn’t reassure him or stop his breath from coming out short at the thought. That and… seeing them kiss again when they thought he wasn’t there didn’t help. The weight creeps in and he rubs hard at his weary eyes to distract himself.

The soap and shampoo are standard-issue MCRN. The crisp, fresh scent is nearly the same as what the UN Navy used. It takes him back years. Back when he was a fresh faced kid from Montana, guilty for leaving his family and the farm but so happy to be free of the weight they both came with. He loses himself in the memory. A younger, happier James Holden showers in an older ship with different crew. He doesn't know what it will be like to throw his career away. What it will be like to bear the weight of the destruction of two ships. What it will be like to feel himself falling into something good and destroying it all in such a short period of time. Holden envies the kid.

Though he must admit, as he massages shampoo into his greasy hair, that maybe hope isn't lost. He'd told Naomi to leave him behind. To give him three hours to follow Miller to the truth on Eros and to leave if he didn't show. She hadn’t. According to Alex, she’d insisted on waiting for him. She hadn’t wanted to leave him behind. “All those bullets flying” and she’d waited. It’s a better feeling than he’d had when he’d thought she’d listened to him and saved Amos and Alex. But that could have been anything. A promise kept, a kindness returned. A debt repaid. It was what she did after that really comforts him now.

Naomi had taken care of him. Not just in the sense that she'd guided him to the medbay, hooked him up to the top of the line machines, took his vitals and adjusted in kind. No, she'd taken care of him. Sat by his side as he'd drifted in and out of sleep, attended to every need without a word between them, talked to him about whatever came to his drug-addled mind. He thinks he dreamed her fingers twining with his on more than one occasion. Warm lips against his forehead as a hand smoothed over his hair. There's still something there. There's still a chance. Maybe she still wants him.

But Amos…

Amos hadn’t been in to see him at all. Holden had barely seen the man since he returned to the Roci. He'd gone right to work on Miller as Holden waited for Naomi to return. They spoke in low voices he couldn't pick up, and as far as he knew, Amos hadn't even spared him another glance. He only breezed through the medbay to check in with Naomi. Holden punches the button on the soap dispenser several times until the stuff fills the palm of his hand. He scrubs vigorously at his skin. He shouldn't take it so personally. Amos had been open about his emotional capacity. Or virtual lack thereof. Still. The opposite reactions from both of his former lovers throws him through a loop he can't get out of.

The emotional highs and lows are too much for him to handle when he's so tired.

Holden rubs absently at his chest, but the ache doesn’t fade. Not all the way. He stands under the water a few moments longer. Enjoys it in place of the warmth he’s missed and craved. He shuts it off before it can shut off on him. The chill on his wet skin wakes him up enough for now. Maybe he can forego the coffee. He turns, ready to step out and grab a towel.

Amos stands just outside the stall, expression torn between amused, aroused, and no emotion at all. Holden yelps, slips back against the bulkhead. The amusement vanishes from the other man’s face.

“Relax, Holden,” Amos mutters, stepping closer and reaching out. “It’s just me.”

Holden sputters, trying to catch his breath and calm his heart. “Jesus, Amos. Make a sound next time.” He breathes for a moment. Ignores his moderate embarrassment at being naked in front of Amos. Even if they hadn’t been lovers, they’d shared shower space before. This time, Holden is at a complete disadvantage. He squints at Amos, studying him. “What are you doing here?”

“Naomi was worried about you being on your own, told me you needed fresh clothes.” Amos shrugs. A grin appears on his lips, and Holden has to suppress less innocent thoughts than being glad Amos isn't just scowling or staring at him. “Besides, thought I should check on you. Shouldn't fight like hell to get back here just to die slipping in the shower.”

Can’t argue with that logic, Holden muses as he blinks at Amos. Still, it would have been nice to share a moment that didn’t involve him being naked, cowering in the shower. He knows any hope of a truly emotional, meaningful moment may be fruitless, but actual words between them would have been… preferable to this. Amos drops the clothes on a nearby bench and reaches for a towel to toss him. Holden manages to catch the soft terry in one hand, scrambling to cover himself and regain some of his composure.

Holden expects more quips from Amos. He expects flirtation and innuendo. He's naked for Christ’s sake. But when he turns back to face Amos, towel wrapped securely around his waist, Amos says nothing. He watches Holden with that steady, emotionless gaze. Like he's studying Holden's recovering body. It makes Holden shy. He'd been less than confident the first time he'd been naked with Amos, caught between him and Naomi. Still, he's even less confident now. What does Amos see?  

“So,” Holden starts, passing Amos to shuffle to the mirror. “Naomi sent you?”

“Not exactly. I was already coming down when she said something about you.”

“Okay.” Holden grimaces at his reflection. The man staring back at him is too pale. His dark hair, eyebrows, and beard stand out against his too-white skin. Purple shadows beneath his eyes betray a bone-deep exhaustion. His mouth is set in a firm line. And his eyes…

They’re cloudy with emotions he doesn't want to admit to.

He pulls the electric razor out of it’s holster on the wall. “I only ask since I haven’t really seen you since we hauled ass off Eros.”

“Had things to do. We’ve been a man down since then. Two, if you count Naomi. With all the time she spent looking after you and… Miller.”

Holden glances at Amos through the mirror. Amos meets his gaze, but they both know he couldn’t quite hide that slip. Something’s wrong there. But Amos’ stance, his chin tilted up in a challenge, keeps Holden from asking. He looks away again, fiddling with the razor. When will any of these people trust him? Getting any details at all out of them reminds him of shepherding with his fathers. Just when you think you’re getting somewhere, you turn around and see you still have most of the sheep in the fields. He feels that more and more with Amos and Naomi every day.

Focusing hard on his own face, Holden studies the ragged beard along his jaw. Amos’ presence presses against his shoulder blades, threatens to push him over the sink. His face heats at the thought. With luck, the harsh light will keep Amos from noticing his change in color. He tilts his head down, rinses his hand off under the automated sink. That’s when the shaking starts again.

Holden’s caught himself shaking a few times, riding out tremors that range from a minor annoyance to a complete impairment of his fine motor functions. Naomi had explained it may happen, and had been kind and patient enough to help him through the worst of them. Even if they’d both been shy about her helping him eat. The spells have become less frequent as he's healed. But of course one starts when he finally gets a chance to shave.

Clenching his fists against the solid steel counter, Holden lowers his head and closes his eyes. Breathes. He prays for the shaking to subside. The edges of the razor dig into his palm. He hears it creak, a distressing sound he can feel in his own bones. Stop. Please stop. Not now. Not in front of Amos. Holden’s spent all this time, since the Knight—no, no, since the second he’d joined the Cant—feigning strength. Like an actor playing a better version of himself. For the small crew. For himself. There’s nothing to hide behind now. How can he act strong if he can’t even be strong? In front of the one person he has to? “Hey, Holden.” He starts, twisting to see Amos right over his shoulder. His face is blank, betraying none of his thoughts. It doesn’t quite match Amos’ almost… gentle tone. He gazes into Amos’ steely blue eyes, heat rising in his cheeks again. The intensity of this simple action, of staring back at a man whose touch he’s craved, whose attention he’s sought for weeks, hits him like a punch in the gut. So fixated on having what he’s wanted is Holden, that he doesn’t notice Amos holding his hand out. “What?” Holden could wince at how dreamy the word comes out. Amos doesn’t even blink. “Give me the razor.” “Why?” “Just do it.” If he had been anyone else, Amos might have sighed. But he doesn’t wear his emotions on his sleeve like Holden does. He doesn’t let any of his thoughts show. Holden does what he asks, struggling to loosen his shaking fingers from around the device. Amos doesn’t show any sign of annoyance or frustration. Holden considers it a blessing. Scratching his jaw with his free hand, Amos gestures to the bench with the razor. Though still skeptical of Amos’ plans, Holden crosses back to the bulkhead. It takes all his concentration to do so without losing his balance. He drops down onto the bench, ignoring the groan it emits to watch Amos at the sinks. He follows Holden moments later, razor and damp towel in hand. Holden drops his head back against the wall as he gets closer. It’s always interesting to be looking up at Amos. Whether from his knees or from a seat. It changes the dynamic in the basest of ways. Holden is taller, the de facto leader, a man of staunch beliefs. Amos is shorter but broader, follows Naomi more than him, and keeps everything to himself. Being physically beneath Amos feels like submission. And exposing his throat to a man who’s said he could kill him without a second glance takes it to the next level. It’s an arousing thought. He’ll save it for later.

Amos drops the towel on Holden’s shoulder. It’s damp and warm and Holden lets himself relax back into the bulkhead. Thick, rough fingers slide under his chin and tip his head up. Holden watches Amos take in the line of his jaw. Like he’s never seen it before. Like his lips and teeth have never traversed it. The knot in his chest tightens. He hadn’t considered how much he had missed this Amos. The one that bounced between him and Naomi like a kid with too many toys and no way to choose one. Being chosen, even for this, warms his chest. The knot stays.

The razor hums to life in Amos’ other hand. At the first touch of the blades to his skin, Holden’s eyelids flutter. He fights the urge to close them. He won’t give up this chance to be present with Amos. Not after all this time and his near death between them. So he watches Amos. Gazes up at his barely-furrowed brow. Takes in his focused eyes and set mouth. Amos doesn’t look at him. Just works, shifting Holden’s head this way and that to get every angle.

Holden shivers as Amos tips his head back, exposes his throat and drags the razor up to his chin. Amos pauses. Their eyes finally meet. The razor buzzes along between them, white noise for the moment. Holden wonders what Amos sees in his eyes. Holden can only see some brand of thoughtfulness. Maybe. But then Amos looks away and the moment is gone. He switches hands and gets back to work.

It doesn’t take long for Amos to finish. He tilts Holden’s face this way and that, looking for any missed spots. They wouldn’t be hard to find on Holden’s sickly-white skin. He nods to himself, and the razor clicks off. The silence between them weighs on his chest more than Amos’ absence had. He’s here. He’s right in front of Holden. Yet he still feels a hundred klicks away. There has to be something he can do to close the distance. To bring Amos back to him. To try and fix what he’d broken. With a quick hum, Amos turns away, drops the towel into a bin.

And Holden takes a leap.

“I missed you.”

Amos pauses. He doesn’t freeze, or whirl around. None of the usual—likely considered dramatic—reactions Holden might have, in the same position. But he knew that already. Amos isn’t like most men. He sighs, scratches his jaw. When he turns to face Holden again he looks thoughtful.

“Since Eros,” he starts, face still a blank slate. “Or since the Mickeys almost boarded us?”

Holden takes a breath. “The Martians.”

Amos doesn’t show any sign of shock. He nods. Rubs his hands together. Holden clenches his jaw. What he wouldn’t give to know what thoughts are running through Amos’s mind. What he thinks of Holden’s confession. The radiation had failed to give him superpowers. Holden stands on shaking legs. He can’t do this sitting down.

Amos’s eyes follow his movement, trained on his face. “Really?”

Holden’s face heats up. He forces himself to keep eye contact with Amos. “Yeah. Since it all went to shit.”

“Hm. Interesting.”

Holden swallows. “What is?”

“Well,” Amos starts, stepping in close again and keeping his voice level. “Figured after that disagreement we had that you’d want to end it with us.”

“What?”

“You’ve got strong beliefs. Makes it feel like you’ll push away people who disagree.” Amos breathes another sigh. Holden isn’t sure what emotion is behind it. If there is emotion behind it. “We disagreed. You had a gun to my head. Fun’s over.”

Holden blinks, thinks over Amos’ words. What he’s saying. What he’s implying. Holden always thought it was more of a… mutual decision. That Amos would have easily backed away from him after… Holden shudders. “Naomi was right to be afraid of you.” It hits him like a sucker punch. Amos is right. It was all him.

“Anyway,” Amos continues, either ignoring or not noticing Holden’s epiphany. “You still had Naomi. You two got along better than we did. Thought you’d be good without me.”

Holden clears his throat. His chest is too tight. “I wasn’t.”

“What?” Finally, Amos shows something. His brows draw together and his head tilts to the side.

“Naomi and I.” Holden bites the inside of his cheek. “She ended things with me. On Tycho.”

A fresh wave of pain tightens the knot in his chest. He blinks and looks away. He’s tried to forget that night. His confession to her and her breaking things off with him. Leaving him alone at the table. Because she’d lied for him and she couldn’t choose between him and Amos. She couldn't choose him. It had all been his fault.

Holden looks up again to find Amos watching him. Some version of confused and surprised plays out on his face. “She didn’t say anything. I thought you two were good.”

“No.” Holden shakes his head. “It’s all a big mess.”

Amos nods, the emotions fading from his face once again. “So… when you say you missed me. You mean me and Naomi, then?”

“Yes. I mean, no. I just—” Holden sighs, rubs his eyes. What is the easiest way to say this? Holden’s never been in a situation like this. Even having polyamorous parents doesn’t prepare a man for communication with one of two partners. When all he’s known is how much he’s missed Naomi, and he knows he can talk to Naomi. He’s always had to show Amos how he—

He sucks in a breath. Inspiration. Don’t tell. Show. Before Holden can talk himself out of it, he grabs Amos by the jumpsuit and pulls him close. He can feel his strength wavering, but he manages to hold onto him as he kisses him hard enough to feel their teeth hit. Amos makes some sound in the back of his throat—Holden can’t decipher it—and after a few beats grips at Holden’s towel. He deepens the kiss, heart rate jumping at the idea of Amos just pulling the towel loose. A tiny part of him yearns to be reacquainted with Amos right here.

And then Amos pulls out of the kiss, uses his hands on Holden’s hips to push him away. It’s not a forceful push—no, almost gentle—but Holden feels it as if he’d been shoved in the chest. Heat rises in his cheeks again. He isn’t sure if it’s more from lust or embarrassment. He takes a shuddering breath.

“I missed you.”

He opens his eyes, hoping to see something, anything in Amos’ face that shows that he wants this as badly as Holden does.

Only to find the man giving him a tight grin. “Jesus, Cap. Save it for when you’re back to a hundred. Shouldn’t start something you can’t finish.” Amos taps the palm of his hand to Holden’s cheek twice.

Holden sputters. “But… that’s not what I—”

“I have to get back to work. Alex is probably looking for me.” With one last slap to the shoulder, Amos pivots and strides out of the head, leaving Holden cold and alone.

Holden stares at the door long after Amos leaves. He stays in the same spot, shivering, until his legs can’t hold him any longer. He sits back on the bench with a groan, letting his head hit the bulkhead with a little more force than before. “Stupid.”

He closes his eyes. Breathes slow to calm his mind—and body. His eyes itch and he clenches them tighter. It’s all a mess. And it’s all his mess. He goes over the past months, every choice and every word, looking for where he could have stopped himself. Kept his mouth shut or said something different or did something different. But he couldn’t have. He can’t be anyone different. He shudders.

The door slides open again, boots scuffing against the decking as someone else enters the head. Holden sighs. “Amos isn’t here, Alex.” His voice comes out rougher and more exhausted than he thought it might. Can he hide behind his injuries or is it obvious it’s something else?

“It’s me, Ji—... Holden.”

Holden’s eyes open and his tilts his head up to see not his pilot, but the other lover that had been on his mind. Former lover. Naomi. She looks as beautiful as the day he first noticed how beautiful she was. There’s a gnawing in his gut. She grins at him, a small, tight grin like Amos’. She wrings her hands together, shifts her gaze to look at anything but him. The knot in his chest stays firmly in place. He tries not to show it and gives her a tiny grin of his own.

“Hey.”

Naomi takes a deep breath. Like she’s preparing to say something. She shakes her head instead. “Amos said you needed some help.”

Holden blinks, his eyebrows drawing together. He’s not sure if he can take this emotional whiplash from the both of them. He feels vulnerable. Exposed. Not just because he’s naked save for his towel. But he doesn’t have the energy to do anything about it. He hums.

“Did he?”

Naomi hesitates again. “Yeah. Just… thought you weren’t… doing as well as you said.”

“That’s…” Holden finds himself at a loss. Amos grabbed Naomi? For what? If Holden needed help getting dressed, he’d have called for someone himself. It’s not like he has anything to hide from Naomi anymore. And his dignity has never meant much to him. Naomi had spent so much time avoiding alone time with him before Eros. Avoiding any opportunity for him to try and talk to her about more personal matters.

So… why now?

“That’s very... thoughtful of him,” Holden concludes lamely. There had been a time he could just talk to Naomi, about anything and everything. Curled up in his cabin or hers, wrapped up in a tiny world that only reached as far as the door. Now he dances around the conversation, trying not to say anything that could make her uncomfortable. Worlds apart. He sighs. “I’ll be fine. Just need my legs to stop shaking.”

Naomi takes a breath. “I don’t think he meant your… physical recovery. Jim.”

Holden’s gaze snaps back to her face. Her lip is caught between her teeth. She hasn’t called him by his name since… before Opal. Before she’d ended things with him. Before he fucked it all up. He swallows. “Then what?” He’s almost afraid of her answer. He doesn’t know why. If it’s because it’s her, or if it’s the topic. “What did he mean?”

“Us, Jim,” she says, finally stepping towards him. “The three of us. The… break up.”

“Ah.” His heart hammers all over again as Naomi approaches. Slow, cautious. Why must they put him through this? Get his hopes up, only to dash them? Again. Will she run away like Amos, when she comes back to her senses? Will this tightness in his chest or gnawing in his stomach ever fade? He so loses himself in doubt and questions that he doesn’t realize how close Naomi is until her long, cool fingers slide under his jaw and tilt his head up. It takes more effort than he’d like to meet her brown eyes with his. They look almost pained.

“Naomi, what are you—”

“I’m sorry.” Her thumbs stroke over his cheekbones. Her eyes lock on his. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do it.”

Holden blinks up at her, brows drawing together. “You’re sorry? For what?” Naomi’s mouth opens, but no sound comes out. Holden makes a sound in the back of his throat that even he can’t quite interpret. Something in her small gesture makes him feel bold. And small. “Naomi… I did this. I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

It’s Naomi’s turn to look confused. She purses her lips. “What are you talking about, Jim?”

Holden almost tells her. The words that explain him and Amos and their fallout nearly spill from his lips like a holy confession just to seek his penance. Her forgiveness. The shame of his works creep up the back of his neck and sends a another shiver through him. Something clicks, for Naomi's gaze softens further.

“Is this about you and Amos? Whatever happened when that patrol found us?”

Holden swallows, his throat suddenly dry. He nods. “I… said something I shouldn't have.”

He nearly starts when Naomi snorts. “Why does that not surprise me?” Her tone is gentle, her expression… affectionate.

“Naomi…” He pushes down the rising joy, the hope that unfurls in his chest. This is how she looked at him before. The way he’s wanted her to look at him since she stormed out of the bar with his heart in her hands. But as much as he wants to let himself just revel in it, she deserves to know. She needs to know. “When… the Martians… I told Amos you were right to be afraid of him.”

Naomi blinks. Holden’s heart stops. He wants to look away, dreading the disgust he’ll be sure to see when she processes what he’d said. That he’d said something so purely meant to hurt someone she cared about. Used her to hurt someone she cared about. He knows deep down it was to lash out over his own pain. And it makes it feel worse. Cruel. He deserves any judgement she may pass on him. So he can’t look away. He has to take it. He has to crush the hope he so badly wants to feel to keep himself from hurting more.

Naomi takes a breath. Nods. “You’re… blaming yourself? For everything?”

“Well…” Holden pauses. “Yeah?”

The disgust never comes. The corner of Naomi’s mouth twitches. Her thumb strokes over his cheek again. “Have you ever considered that I am partially to blame? It did start when Amos found out I was lying for you.”

“I—” No. He hadn’t. In all honesty—further proof of his asshole status—he’d forgotten how Naomi and Amos had fallen out in the first place. Naomi had protected him from Amos, at the expense of their relationship. Still a notch on his belt of fault, but… not by his own doing. She’d chosen to keep his secret, knowing what might happen. He sighs, looks away from her warm brown eyes by closing his own. “I’m sorry. I hadn’t.”

“I don’t know what I expected. But we do share the blame, Jim.” Her voice is soft, fingers still petting his skin. It’s so soothing. Holden hadn’t realized just how badly he’d missed her touch until her hands were on him again. “You regret what you said, right?”

“To Amos? Absolutely. I don’t… relish being cruel, in retrospect.”

Naomi laughs. “I’m certain you don’t. I’m certain you’ve had yourself in a personal hell since you said it.” She taps his jawline, and Holden opens his eyes to look at her again, Her gentle smile has returned. “You’re not the type to be cruel.”

“And neither are you,” Holden whispers. Naomi’s eyes widen. He moves his hands to rest on her hips, giving her a comforting touch of his own. She tenses. But only for a second. “You aren’t, Naomi. You don’t have to apologize to me. I understand why you did what you did. I get it now.”

And he does. It was unfair of him to ever think she should bounce between the two of them, or keep things up with him while she hurt over Amos. Unfair and cruel. And he’d almost died with those rifts between them. That thought hurts him most. Leaving all of this unsaid. Leaving them with all this pain.

Before Naomi can answer him, he pulls her close, presses his forehead to her stomach. She makes a sort of choked sound above him, an emotion he’s not sure he can place. She smells like sweat and grease. It’s not entirely unpleasant, not from her. It makes him think of home. His new home. Fingers thread through his hair, trail down the back of his neck. A soft groan escapes him, and he further melts into her.

God… he’s missed this. How could I be so stupid? He doesn’t realize he’d said it out loud until Naomi laughs above him. It’s a bitter bark of a sound.

“Not just you, Jim. I—I walked out on you at the bar.” Her voice wavers, her grip on his hair and shoulder tightening. “You could have died and the last real conversation we had was weeks ago. I’d ended things and just left you there.”

“But you waited for me on Eros,” he whispers, still loud enough for her to hear. “You waited. I didn’t die. You didn’t leave me and I’m here.”

The ease with which the words fall from his lips surprises him. The certainty. It surprises Naomi too, for she stutters—Naomi, stuttering!—before taking a breath.

“It’s that easy for you?”

“Yes,” he assures her, certain as anything. “That’s it.”

And it is. Of course, he may have blamed her for his pain once. As he sat alone at the table back at Opal, waving a waitress down to close their tab to distract himself from the deep ache in his chest. But he quickly turned it into anger at himself. She doesn’t need his forgiveness because there’s nothing to forgive. She’d done nothing wrong in choosing Amos. In choosing herself.

Naomi gently pulls him away from her stomach, tilting his head up to meet his eyes. Holden gazes back up at her. He’s unafraid now. Her long fingers tease through his hair again. The question lingers in her eyes. Should we try again? Holden wants nothing more. He nods, hoping the rest of his expression answers for him as she studies his face in silence.

Naomi relaxes, a small grin replacing the concern that colored her features. She leans down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Holden lets his eyes close.

“Let’s try not do that again, yeah?”

Holden hums, squeezing her waist. “Agreed.”

She kisses his forehead once more, nuzzling the same spot before finally pulling away from him. “I may have found something in the medbay that will help you long term. Think you can get dressed on your own?”

Holden hadn’t noticed when the shaking had stopped. He shoots her a grin. “I think I can manage.”

She returns his smile. “I’ll get Miller. Meet you there in fifteen?” It’s far more than enough time, even with weak muscles and shaky legs. His chest warms.

“Sounds good.” And it does. For the first time since Holden walked into the bar on Tycho to meet Naomi for a drink, something finally feels good. He finally feels good. “Thank you, Naomi.”

Naomi brushes her knuckles against his cheek, smile widening. Part of Holden wishes she’ll lean down and kiss him. The deeply-romantic, misses-his-maybe-girlfriend-more-than-coffee part. But if she had been ready for that, she would have done so. It’s not the right moment. They’ll find it. He’s certain of it now.

She leaves him with the clothes Amos had lain out for him. Not before shooting him one last smile over her shoulder as she ducks out the door. Holden’s heart is racing. For the first time in weeks, he doesn’t worry about it. He’s not scared. It’s not an emergency. He’s practically soaring. Wings of eagles and all that shit.

He eases himself back to his feet and dresses with care. Much of his body still aches and he still bruises too easy. However, there’s an eagerness he can’t keep from his movements. Naomi wants him again. Amos might want him again. He may be at half-strength or less, but he feels whole. He hadn’t even realized that he’d been missing parts of himself until he knew what it was like to have them back. He has to do better. Has to be better. Has to be worthy of the care and forgiveness they’ve bestowed upon him. Or… acceptance, in Amos’ case.

And later, after he and Naomi put the “protomolecule” sample in the missile, after she asked if he was okay, and after they had gotten… reaquainted with each other in the airlock, Amos finds him in the corridor on his way back up to Ops.

The mechanic gives him a once over, and Holden is pretty certain that Amos knows exactly what had happened before Alex’s surprise dinner. That he knows exactly what had taken Holden and Naomi so long in the airlock. He so wishes the radiation had given him superpowers. To know what Amos might think of it.

But Amos seems to answer that question for him by slamming him back into the bulkhead and kissing him hard enough to similarly slam his head back into the bulkhead. He doesn’t know what it is about his partners and pushing him into a wall, but if he’s going to get a concussion, ground rules might be important. Not that he’s thinking about ground rules when Amos is finally kissing him again. He grips at Amos’ jumpsuit, just like in the head hours before. This time, he doesn’t shake. He may be held upright between the wall and the hard plane of Amos’ chest, but Holden knows he can stand tall on his own now.

They kiss until they’re both breathless, Amos pulling away but staying close enough to breathe the same air. Holden gazes at him, not bothering to fight through the post-kiss dreamy haze these two often leave him in. Amos holds him by the jaw, studying his face. Holden wants to tip his chin up, kiss him again. But something like mischief flashes in Amos’ eyes. Holden’s brows draw together.

Amos stops his question with one of his own. “You and Naomi good then?”

Holden gapes at him. “What?”

“C’mon, Cap,” Amos scoffs. Holden files all thoughts of the title away for when he’s not pinned to a bulkhead. “It’s written all over your face. Hers too. Just a damn shame I wasn’t there.”

“Well,” Holden starts, clearing his throat when it comes out like a croak. “Well… it happened so fast, we just—”

Amos pats his cheek and pulls away, taking his warmth with him. “Nah, it’s fine. All good. Besides—” He leans in once more, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “You can always make it up to me by reenacting it when we hit Tycho. I’m sure Naomi won’t mind.”

He gives Holden one last hard slap on the arm for good measure before sauntering away, whistling some tune or another. Holden leans against the bulkhead for a while after that, head flooded with images of the three of them holed up in some fancy Tycho apartment for hours. When he finally pushes away, the fresh bruises from dual wall-shovings across his back and arms protest.

He can’t say it isn’t worth it.

[surfersofbole]

Sad Little Love Poems: The Fourth Poetry Dump

Here’s my fourth poetry dump. Less rap in this one... I guess more love poems, along with some other poems. They’re little sad things that aren’t really worth providing individual releases. I’ve decided to name them this time.

I don’t remember if I’ve posted some of these before. I think I may have, but my memory is hazy. Many of these are incomplete poems. Many of these are over a year old. Poems 2-4 are the most recent works I’ve written.

Ditsy*

Ditsy when she talkin’ But man, the way she walkin’

*I wanted to make this into a song, but I couldn’t get past these two lines. I think I made it to the rhythm of Miss Mandy.

Eros Strums the Single String on his Guitar

I’ve convinced myself that the brilliant river Pours such cold water I’ll shiver Whether or not I jump in and catch the undercurrent. After all I have weathered, I look abhorrent; Wave me away; say, “Don’t come near.” Apparently, I wasn’t meant to be here.

Should I be true to stilled moments’ thoughts That startle my beating heart? I should convince myself brilliant rivers Pour such cold water, I would shiver.

I should wither to the berating parade, The beating drums, and lockstep marchers. Oh, would the tone-deaf lover serenade? Would Cupid fire arrows if he were an untrained archer? Oh, the tone-deaf lover provides no serenade. Off-beat drums, bowlegged marchers Falter ‘fore the king and queen of spades.

A False Answer Lies on the Other Side of the Equation

One more breath that I’m expending Before my chest begins expanding. An arhythmic contraction Of my heart confessed attraction.

A reaction of a chemical In my brain makes it seem simple, But, even with that context, My heart makes it feel complex.

I stop holding my breath, Let loose and walk the length A moment’s filled with bliss As another beat is missed.

There’s a scent that clouds the air. I close my eyes, am more aware. So much depends upon* The fair air that fills my lungs.

Is this love or infatuation, This warmest of sensations? It’s no secret how I’ve tried; In you, a kiss that I confide.

*So much depends upon repurposing the words of those who would have wished for the writer to have some imagination and sense of originality.

A Sense of Reassurance...

You don’t have to complicate things; Speak succinctly, ever charming.

We don’t have to play like we’re fools As long as you love me and you.

You don’t have to find other worlds Or dream about other girls.

You don’t have to speak perfect rhymes I’ll love you every single time.

Beneath Thee

So dreary, How I have to sit and watch with little wonder; I’ve not had time of day to lift my eyes up And look beyond.

Go sinking; Leave me all alone and I’ll be here tomorrow. Pick me up my long lost friend, and, you, I’ll follow. Just be near, t’me.

Beneath thee,

It just takes a bit of convincing

Don’t you know the rain Is gonna fall either way? So why cause us this pain Each and every other day?

I find that the gold mines In the mountains up above Hold cases full of cheap wines And, for me, that is enough.

But they liked what they heard...

It seemed quite strange to me that I could not believe What I had then just spake with lips, these lips, my lips, And thought as the subconsciousness, me, moved/spoke to. And I did utter things that I might rarely think. I feel feelings that I’ve long felt, dealt not (for what, No reason under

An Incomplete Parody of Weezer’s Smile

Taking my time To get it all set up, I stand to learn What’s on the up and up. ‘cause he wanted some love, I let it happen.

He think’s he’s acting slick; Your boyfriend’s sucking dick. The way that he just wraps me up Inside his smile...

S’ lucky, this find That I have made tonight,

Wonder If You’re OK

In the dawning of my day, One cold morning, wide awake, Sit up in bed, and start to pray, Wondering if you’re okay.

In your bed, you choose to stay; Welled up tears dry, fill the air. In moon’s reflection, lightning bugs play Before their hit with the light rays.

I’ll be a bitter man.

The months I have logged where I longed And I waited, so cold, For you to return with my broken soul Have diminished in lieu of a promise that I won’t be hurting myself any more.

I sat and I waited in wonder pondering What it is I should do

I’ve tried and I’ve worked ever since To be a better man But I fear that the day I should see you, I’ll be a bitter man.

Amber Embers

Some day, When I’m waiting for the sun, Should I realize That it’s never coming back ‘round for me again. If I close my eyes, Will the amber embers fill my vision? Or will I still remain In the dark and lifeless cell that is this prison.

Advertising Heaven

Don’t you dream with me today? Can’t you see me and my name Plastered up on billboard signs a ways away?

Can’t you hear my silent scream? Can’t you see the wound that bleeds? I swear that you may within my dreams.

And I know I know the rainbow... I know I know how it goes. I know That it follows where the showers should blow.

When your vision starts to show The lustrous, cosmic meadow, Your thoughts will calm your mind and you will mellow.

But if you’ve let it cloud And to darkness, you have bowed, Then fear has you succumbed with tattered shroud.

Would you fear your trow did shatter When you were nude just as a shadow? I think you’ll find that it really doesn’t matter.

A Moment in Hell

Red, I’d seen, when closed my eyes. Through the clouds, color’s still seen. The moon hides not in pitch black skies, And, with fright, my sight’s careened, Searching not to

Heaven’s Wrath is a Heavy Halo

Spreading out my mind, Relaxing in my sleep, Selfcontained in heavy deep, Without light, and so I’m blind. After grinding of my teeth With subconscious, steady pressure My tresured, plesu'ble lesiure Are my pain pills. Heaven’s wreath,

A sickness of sorts. (Working Title)*

A pain grows deep inside; The hurt does, my mind, wind And leaves m’ broken down. A great pain I did find An’ this, t’ you, confide. That I didn’t frown When lover took th’ crown/ When queen had left m’ side; M’ bride had so r’sign’d. M’ love ‘n a grand gown, H’r mother so had cried As she, t’ me, resigned.

Th’ fact is that the pain ’s from our broken lives. Where’s all th’ time w’ spent? This pain of mine deprives ‘nd undermines all gain. Quickly th’t it h’d went

*The original title was “A Sickness of Sorts. (working title)”

I am not prepared.

I am prepared not to cry tears of sorrow. The overflow of joy shall not be present either. Today, I shall cry tears of defeat Because these struggles have chipped away at my fortitude, revealing nothing, And leaving me to be little more than a weak coward. How I’d hoped a river of relief might have washed over me.

[demilillith]

Friends on the wild side

The wolf whined, the forest had allowed another intruder into its fold as it moved along its floors. Precise and irritated, he had come to this forest for his doom the wolf was sure. Those who appeared int his forest came to either simply leave the existence of the sinful purgatory they were banished to, or rather, to become one with the nature which we cannot perceive. Drawing back, vague memories of a woman once walking through the forest, and the next, a gnarled tree was left in her place swam through the mind.

He had found the man, rather, the demon walking briskly throughout the dense foliage, him, the beast watching from the cliffs. His eyes empty, and his body moving without purpose, the wolf watched with curiosity. It was long since he had begun to think of himself until he himself entered the forest, but the beast understood the vague concepts of life. The strong were meant to overtake the weak, the weak to be protected and taken by the strong. Life was everywhere, and as such, there are those who disrespect it; They are not to be trusted. The darkened eyes knew of such truths, when most of his pack was living in harmony until many were killed for their bodies and flesh. They were not strong… Enough. It was when a man, covered in leaves and branches had closed off the forest, the thoughts emerging from the head of the leader had begun to take roots. A breath of air, a sniff in the wind, the demon had begun to realize he was not alone. Black fur donned on his head, and two great curled branches upon them cursed the son of man. A tail like Satan was beyond his back, and at the very least, the child of man was familiar with his surroundings; Eyes sharpening.

The leader smelled his presence, a half blood? A mutt, perhaps not unlike his mate prior, but the scent of evil was far more diluted than the scent of a newborn pup. There was a sense, perhaps, that it did not truly know the world, much like the strong did when first growing with the mother. Feral fangs, however, detailed otherwise… The slight fur around its muzzle drew back. Turning back, the wolf knew this would not be the last he saw of him, idea forming within the mind that he was no longer the only strong being here. There was one more, newly born unto the world.

————————————— Demi huffed, breath running rampant as he took to the forest lining with glee, wind in his hair, and a smile carved onto his face. He was running with the creature he had seen before, a wolf, when he first came into the forest of the District. He couldn’t say how he found the forestry outside the Red Light District of Eros, but once he was drawn to it, he didn’t leave save to sleep. His mind drifted away to when he met his companion, where it had watched him slowly, not knowing whether to trust him or not. His heart was pumping, his brain unfocused, hand outstretched. What was he doing, he didn’t know, only that he wished to extend his hand forward. Ears bent forward, tail lifted high, the other bared his eyes to him, revealing himself as he stepped from the shadows; Watching and waiting for signs to distrust. Demi didn’t speak, nor did the other, they had eyed each other for what seemed like an eternity, before both left their crossed paths.

Now, after visiting many other times and seeing his companion for some time, the two regarded each other mutually well. One would visit from the District, silent and thoughtful, the other, paternal and guiding him to the side of nature he had never understood. And here he was, running with his friend, mind at level with him, both running free in the wind’s arms. Leaves crunched, logs and sticks jumped over, the scent of the forest wafting from the canopy to the nose, Demi could feel alive again.

Maybe, this was what he was missing, perhaps… This was the reason he was drawn here. Words of Parvati lilting on his ears; “Yes, this it knows, like a mother knows her child above the rest. For example, if the child comes to the mother crying, the mother knows why it is crying would it not? The animals know this too. Trust it, as my children, both human and beast, do with me.” When they had reached to the forest clearing, Demi finally paused to catch his breath, the flannel long gone from his body as he dusted off his darkened jeans. Despite being without his trademark, he still felt stuffy in only a t-shirt, wishing the cool winds would give him relief. Boots encrusted with mud and dirt, he groaned as he fell to the floor, lying back and gasping for breath. The companion, quite and humbled, walked over to him, eyeing him softly, before leaning close and prodding the Incubus’ face gently with its nose. Giggling with delight, Demi was all too grateful for the sincere gift of affection from his friend, tired hands caressing the wolf’s greyed fur on its head. The affection had not stopped, teeth lightly “nibbling” the demon’s fur, face flush with love. “Hey! Quit it, I’m ticklish! Come on!” Demi was sure that his companion heard his words, but did not stop as it stood above him. He was tired from running for what felt like an eternity, but having the time to spend time with someone far away from what he was used to, was a blessing to him. His hands scruffed and mingled with fur, a whimper reminding him his friend too felt gratitude for love. Eyes closed, Demi saw just how skin starved his friend was, they were just the same, the two of them. It was sad… Almost, that it was most likely true, he didn’t see any other wolves within the forest, at least, that he didn’t see already. It was just him and the attendant, both tied to one another in some cruel joke of fate, perhaps, the inner writer in the Incubus wrote out. “You know… I think it’s great knowing I have a friend here… But what about you? Don’t you have some friends to keep with you? A pack? Or like… Maybe a “lady” friend?” Voice rather goofy at the end of his lilt. The wolf opened its eyes, head moving from Demi’s hands and looking forward out towards the greenery, solemn.

“…I see, you too, huh? I understand.” Demi moved his head, body pulling itself up partly. The wolf moved closer, away from Demi, and sat itself down on the clearing’s path. The skies slate gray, a thin layer of cotton began to float down, tiny bits of it swaying within the wind to and fro. The Incubus brought himself up, squatting down next to his lone companion, hand resting on it’s back as his friend jumped at the touch. Ready to strike, the battle hardened eyes turned passive, four legged body tired and slightly cool to the senses. Fur dusted with black and white cotton, bristled as it sat quiet in reflection. Demi’s eyes were misty, they really were the same when he thought down to it, past the murky black boots and paw pads, past the horns and tail of a demon and the fur or tail of a wolf; They were alone, and didn’t want to be at all.

When Demi started to hear the howl of his friend next to him, did his tears finally flowed forth, heart aching as he joined in with reverie.

By the time they were finally over, the snow had covered the forest with a thickened comforter. The wolf quietly stood up, and began to walk away, to be leaving Demi alone in the cold. The leader was tired, needed rest and time away. But he turned when he heard the pleasant voice calling out to him,

“Goodbye, friend! I’ll see you again, and we can run again if you want. Just make sure not to be caught in the cold like me, though, I’m freezing…!” Demi was beginning to walk along the beaten trail, one arm waving, the other carrying a small flame ignited in his finger tips. Ready to see another day, another life, he carried on to the District once more.

The words meanwhile had fallen on observant ears. Yes, freezing.

Like his heart.

When the wolf no longer felt the presence of the demon any longer within the forest, there was no witness to hear the somber sound of the howl that echoed throughout the canopy. It knew that there may not be much more time to live in this damned forest, filled with daemons and creatures of unparalleled horrors. But what began to freeze the wolf solid was not the song he sang, rather, it was the reply which came after it.

The incubus was howling with him.

But he was not alone.

[mellonmarsh042-blog]

ManOU, MinOs, Mises, MOses 

JOseph, JesUs, 

“O” Words:  GOd, LOrd, gOds, gOdesses, Old, JehOvah, CristO, ChOsen, GOne, One, ALOne, LOnely, Only, WOn, WOrLd, WOrd, SwOrd, VOice, COntainer, COntained, SpOken, ChOke, TOday, SwOrn, WOrn, MissiOnary, MissiON, PermissiOn, SOrry, SOft, CeremOny, COntact, PrOvidence, PrOphecy, JOan Of Arc, PrOphet, TraditiOnal, AdditiOnal, SOn, HOspital, BOrn, LOck, VOw, SwOre, COvenant, RainbOw, Ordained, Order, ChaOs, Organize, COmmitment, COmmit, COmment, CO-(ed), Ordinary, ExtraOrdinary, PrescriptiOn, WOman, BrOad, ROyalty, POwer, POwerful, BOdy, BOne, BOLd, PersOn, PeOple, BOard, WhOre, HOe, ShOvel, HOse, BrOthel, HerO, HerOin, NOn, cannOn, IrOn, IrOny, FOrward, TOward, DirectiOn, COntrast, ZerO, HOLe, HOLy, CrOss, ArrOw, VisiOn, HOrn, HOrny, HOrdes, HOLLy, DOnkey, GOlden, LOve, ErOs, ROse, ArOse, TOast, MemOry, COde, COdex, SOlved, ResOlved, COt, COtTen, COrn, COrner, HOme, HOtel, POrtal, POrt, POrtland, Oxygen, HydrOgen, FOrth, COmmand, MOrtal, ImmOrtal, AtOmic, AtOm, BOmb, BOmbsheLL, BOmbard, ArmeggedOn, AnnihiLatiOn, WOw, Ow, LOst, LOsing, MOney, COst, DOLLars, COins, StOne, DiamOnd, COincide, FreedOm, MacrO, MicrO, MicrOw, MicrOwave, TheOry, COven, Oven, StOve, COLLege, COver, COrrect, HOney, POwer, PLOw, Owned, CrOwned, SLOwer, ShOw, ShOwer, FLOw, Over, COver, HOver, ON, Off, NO, NOrth, NOt, KnOt, NOte, SOng, WrOng, LOng, LOnging, LOdge, TrOt, TerrOr, TerrOrism, StatiOn, WOOd, LOg, ALLOw, ALLOwed, HaLLOwed, ShaLLOw, LOw, BeLOw, BeyOnd, CLOthes, Origin, Original, POcket, ConstellatiOn, NatiOn, CivilizatiOn, ExpressiOn, SLOw, Oh!, BOise, IdahO, JerOme, New YOrk, CalifOrnia, CalifOrnicatiOn, ChicagO, MexicO, AppOintment, CancellatiOn, SOda, DOS, Operating, OS, TaO, COme, GO, StOp, GO, HOt, COld, FrOzen, DOwn, DrOwn, Own, FrOnt, TOp. AtOp, TOtal, FOrever, FOnt, DOes, SOng, ROck and ROLL, ROLL, ROLe, TOne, ALLegrO, ChOir, ChOrd, Orchestra, TempO, TOnal, AtOnal, TenOr, SaxaphOne, PianO, KeybOard, BanjO, CellO, ObOe, TOm TOm,  NOva, MOre, LOcate, FOrce, COpe, HOpe, NOpe, COre, MiLLiOn, BiLLiOn, ZiLLiOn, SpOt, PrO, COn, COngress, COck, Ostrich, MOnkey, FOx, GOat, WOLf, CrOw, COLLie, WOLverine, WerewOLf, ALLigatOr, LiOn, DOg, HOrse, POny, FOx,  DOve, OwL, FOwL, COw, LivestOck, POrk, HOg, BacOn, HOwl, FLOwer, Oats, COward, MOnday, NOvember, TObber, COp, POlice, DemOn, DaemOn, DemOnstrates, FOretell, Oath, MarjOrie, FLOat, MOtel, MOnster, MOre, MOvie, ShOw, RadiO, StereO, IgnOre, IgnOrance, SnOr, SnOt,  COmbat, PrObLem, PrOgrammed, PrOgrammer, LOse, VenOm, FOrty, BOx, BLOck, BOxing, SpOrt, TOLd, StOry, HistOry, BOnd, BLOnd, StrOng, LOng, HOld, MOld, BOld, RatiO, RatiOnal, ALmOst, AwesOme, MOst, MOist, POpe, POp, VOwel, IOn, RadiatiOn, ThOr, ROme, ROam, ROman, MegaphOne, TOmb, MOlest, SOviet, Over, TOss, POssess, Obsess, Observe, MOve, RemOve, DrOve, TOe, PrOverb, PrOverbial, COat, COte, COLt, ROcket, SOlve, AbsOlve, Olive, WrOng, SnOw, FrOst, NOw, NOel, ExpeditiOn, ROad, SchOlar, POrtal, Open, CLOse, CLOth, CLOthes, SOcks, COmpact, NOse, NOstril, ThrOat, IvOry, ThOse, TOes, DO, DOn’t, DOes, DOesn’t, DOing, SO, TO, Or, GrOss, DepOsit, RepositOry, ROck, ROLL, COntext, BLOw, BLOwn, BOw, BOwel, BOwl,  BrOwn, CrimsOn, ViOLet, ViOLence, CinnamOn, Orange, Ox, AffOrd, FOr, FOrty, FeLon, FeLOny,  ELabOrate, Orate, Ornate, IncantatiOn, WOrk, JOb, SOrcerer, SOrcery, SOre, SOar, Oar, WOre, LeprOsy, Odd, Odyssey, WhOle, Odin, Osiris, DragOn, COmb, COmbine, ChOice, TOgether, TOad, SOme, SOnnet, SOnic, SOnar, WOrry, SOap, Opera, NOah, MOses, JOhn, JOe, BOb, Obese, JOin, GhOst, HOst, HOstile, MeLOn, LOnely, LOan, Ocean, IcOn, IdOL, DOLL, AndrOid, DrOne, CLOne, CybOrg, AndrOmeda, CLock, CLOak, JOke, JOker, VOLt, RevOLt, ByrOn, AmbrOsia, BrOther, Other, AnOther, Offering, MatrimOny, MOther, POke, NOne, NOise, POint, AppOint, AnnOinted, HarmOny, FrOm, FOrm, InfOrm, POverty, Overt, DOpleganger, Orgy, Ogre, DOck, ROt, MaggOt, FaggOt, BOat, MOat, ROmance, InnOcent, HirOshima, GOdziLLa, WOrst, ShOrt, LOng, PerfectiOn, SOciety, SOcial, POrt, POrtland, KnOw, KnOwledge, WhO, HOw, AnatOmy, CLOset, FLOck, LOcket, LOcker, Object, Okay, OK, PrOmise, PrOcreate, FOrnicate, MethadOne, NarcOtic, SOmething, NOthing, GnOme, LOt, WeapOns, EOn, NeOn, TOnight, BOy, SaLvatiOn, ELation, RedemptiOn, AttentiOn, Omen, MirrOr, DeceptiOn, COexist, TOrn, LessOn, StOrm, NeOphyte, DefinitiOn, ScOre, PrisOn, POise, POse, POser, PastOr, COttage, CathOLic, MethOdist, EpiscOpalian, TelepOrt, InvasiOn, EvOLve, InvOLve, COLLar, InvestigatiOn, ImaginatiOn, NOrth America, ApOstle, ImpOssible, POssible, PrOtein, CarrOt, LOad, ReLOad, AmmO, DeveLOpe, ELOpe, WrOte, ROte, WindOw, WidOw, NegrO, Oriental, Orient, AdOre, AmOre, BeLOved, SmOke, TOke, DOpe, WOrthLess, TwO, HedOnistic, MOnastic, POLygamy, Once, SecOnd, DestrOyer, WeapOn, StOmach, ReligiOn, GOvernment, DemOcracy, POLOtics, DemOcrat, PLatO, AristOtle, GenOcide, Official, POLand, NOrway, HOLLand, FOreign, SeasOn, ReasOn, TreasOn, InvasiOn, HarbOr, MOnths, POst, Offensive, ShadOw, VictOry,  BOth, BOther, COmplex, RecOrder, RepOrter, BrOken, TOy, COma, COmma, PeriOd, COmply, FOrnicate, SymbOL, ErectiOn, StOckings, TOLe, TOLL, Oak, YeLLOw, RibbOn, HeLLO, COncave, CONvex, MOtive, SeniOr, FictiOn, MOment, VOmit, VibratiOn, ElatiOn, DistOrt, TelevisiOn, DimensiOns, ReceptiOn, DeceptiOn, MOde, MOLe, AcceleratOr, AcceleratiOn, NOwhere, SOmewhere, VapOr, VapOrize, PrOper, ExOrcist, RadiOactive, SeniOr, MOrning, WOrms, POd, SelectiOn, DetectiOn, GrOw, GrOans, MOans, AbandOn, MeditatiOn, DevOte, ApparitiOn, WOnder, WeLcOme, FOrmat, PrOgress, AttentiOn, Offspring, AnalOgy, MOdify, MOdified, ExpLOde, ImpLOde, Ode, ManifestatiOn, WisdOm, IntentiOns, FissiOn, ReactOr, ReactiOn, DetOnate, BOast, NOde, CLOnazepam, MethadOne, TOwn, EscOrt, TestimOny, WhOa!, LiberatiOn, CannOt, PerfOrm, InfectiOn, COmic, COmedian, COmely, HOmely, BOnd, Oil, PrOfit, COmpetative, POverty, PrisOn, BigOtry, Offensive, SOciety, PrOject, JOy, ArrOgant, CherOkee,

 “OO” Words:  GOOd, COOL, FOOL, VOODOO, BOOst, SchOOL, BLOOd, COUpLe, COntrOL, COOk, MOOn, HOrrOr, POisOned, COnsOlidatiOn, OperatiOn,  DOctOr, DetOnatiOn, RObOt, EcOnOmics, OvercOme, FOretOLd, CartOOn, BOOb, COOperate, COrrespOndence, COrpOratiOn, NeighbOrhOOd, EpisOde, MicrOscOpe, COrpOreality, SpOOf, OctOber, DOgsbOdy, OverLOrd, GOOgle, POOr, POOp, OriOn, OniOn, CrOOk, CrOOked, HOLLOw, EmOtiOn, HOLOgraphic, LOOk, LOOse, ZOOm, BOOm, SOmehOw, BLOOm, CacOOn, FOLLOw, PrOOf, POOL, SnOOp, FOOt, TOOth, FOOd, TOmatO, POtatO, NOOn, MicrOphOne, BOOk, PhOnOgraph, PhOtOgraph, COmpOser, MOnO, POrnO, ShOshOne, NOOdle, POOdle, HydrOcOdOne, KLOnOpin, MOOr, SOOthsayer, PrOtO, LOOp, LOOphOLe, SOrrOw, TOmOrrOw, COnsOnant, COmmOn, COmmOnplace, COOrdinate, COOrdinates, CrOssbOw, OverdOse, COLLabOrate, TOO, ChOOse, POsitiOn, POtiOn, MOtiOn, LOtiOn, POseidOn, MOnOgamy, AlcOhOl, KangarOO, MOOse, GOOse, MOOd, MOOdy, SpOOn, ApOstrOphe, COnsideratiOn, HOrizOn, InfOrmatiOn, PrOtOtype, PrOtectiOn, PrOtectOr, PrOmOtiOn, AstrOnOmy, AncestOrs, AstrOLOgy, PrOcreatiOn, PsychOLOgy, TelepOrtatiOn, COLLabOratiOn, APOLLO, ApOLOgy, POLiO, BOttOm, OdOr, TOOL, ROOt, RebOOt, SpOOf, ALOOF, ROOf, FLOOr, DOOr, BrOOm, ROOm, GLOOm, DOOm, SOOn, SOOner, ZOO, TOrsO, AnglO-SaxOn, MOngOLOid, MOngOlia, StOOd, COLLabOratiOn, EcOnOmy, TrOOps, OppOsite, BOOth, COLOr, FOrnicatiOn, OverLOad, NOn-fictiOn, DistOrtiOn, POrtiOn, MOLestatiOn, VapOrizatiOn, PrOcreatiOn, PrOpOse, DevOtiOn, COmfOrt, DiscOmfOrt, KLOnOpin, COmpetitiOn, TechnOLOgy, COnditiOns, LOOt, LOOting, BOngOs,

“U” Words:  QUeen, ZeUs, PerseUs,  DaUghter, SUn, TrUth, TrUe, GUard, GUardians, GUide, RULer, ILLUminate, LUnar, JerUsalem, MUslim, MUst, ReqUired, PersUade, EqUaLity, QUality, CUp, RetUrn, TUrn, SUpernatUral, SUperhUman, Unimaginable, BULL, AssUmed, HOcUs-POcUs, NatUre, NatUral, HaUnt, RegULar ThUnder, TUnnel, SatUrated, FUnnel, CUnt, ShUt, HUt, SLUt, JUnk, TrUnk, JUgs, FUck, SUck, SpUrt, ActUal, MinUte, ErUpt, ErUpted, CrUsh, CrUelty, HUnk, DUke, AbUndance, FUnk, ULtimate, NUn, PUre, PUrity, DUst, BUry, BUrial, AttitUde, StUff, ApplaUse, FigUre, PaUse, HUnt, HUnter, BUnk, BUnker, PUssy, BUrn, BLUrred, BUrned, BUrns, BUrnt, AdjUst, Church, RepUblican, RepUblic, UntiL, HUrt, Umber, Um, Uh, DUmp, DUmpster, MUm, NUmb, NUmber, QUarter, MUrder, Unarmed, CUrse, CUrtain, CUrtail, CUre, VersUs, BUs, StUpid, DUmb, SUccUbUs, IncUbUs, SUrge, SUrgical, LUggage, TrUck, HUb, HUh, HUge, TrUst,  AnnOUnce, CULtUre, TrOUnce, TrUmp, VacUUm, GUy, CrUd, ThUd, FUzz, AbsUrd, AUnt, Uncle, IssUed, AssUaged, PLUg, BUd, NUts, BUy, SecUrity, CPU, CirUit, BULb, InpUt, RUin, JanUary, FebrUary, JUne, JULy, AUgUst, PaUL, FrUit, HUmingbird, BUt, FUtUre, BrUsh, InsinUate, InsULate, EmascUlate, FUn, FUnny, HUmor, HUman, HUmane, VaLUes, VirtUes, EvaLUate, DrUid, BeaUtiful, BeaUty, MaUdLin, Uber, Use, Used, FUse, FLUsh, PUnch, NaUght, NaUghty, LaUnch, LUnch, AUdience, AdventUre, Under, BUddha, JesUs, JUdas, U.S., Us, United, Unity, PUblic, Pubic, University, StUdent, StUdy, PUberty, DUal, DUality, DUet, DUel, DUdes, DUds, SpUd, SpUtnic, SUds, DUes, HUndred, BUcks, TUb, GUt, LUng, BUtt, SUicide, SUpper, CrUst, MUmmy, SecUre, InstrUment, MUse, MUsic, SUng, ALbUm, BLUes, BLUegrass, TUne, TUba, TrUmpet, GUitar, FLUte, LUte, DrUm, TUrn, PUt, RaptUre, RUptUre, Fur, DrUgs, PUnk, PUke, SUit, SUite, NUit, MUg, MUgger, SkULL, Underling, LangUage, CaUse, Fury, NUisance, BUg, RUg, PLUme, SUbmarine, SUbway, FLUke, LUcky, TUna, SaUce, BUrger, PLUm, LettUce, SaUcer, CUt, Up, AUdible, FUn, FUnny, LaUgh, UnpLUg, LUcid, SUcculent, MUtiny, MUck, CUte, VUlgar, PLUck, CUm, Urine, Urinate, Urinal, TUrd, DUng, FraUd, PLUck, DUck, JUice, DUke,  DrUnk, PUrple, BLUe, TUmble, RUmble, StUmble, AssUme, ResUme, SUb, StUb, SnUb, SnUg, NUtrients, SUpply,  Universe, MUlti-Verse, JUpiter, SatUrn, MercUry, VenUs, UranUs, TUesday, SUnday, ThUrsday, SatUrday, BUiLd, RebUiLd, BUiLt, Dupe, MULe, PlagUe, FLU, VirUs, StatUe, EnUciate, ExecUte, ExecUtive, AccUmULate, UraniUm, NUclear, ExcUsed, SULLen, MUndane, SUpra-mUndane, CULtUre, GUest, GUess, QUest, ReqUest, QUeer, MarijUana, AUthentic, SUper, SUper NOva, SUpreme, SUrprise, LiqUid, SqUid, SqUirt, UniqUE, BUsted, BUst, AUstralia, QUiet, QUit, QUiLt, Unitary, AqUariUm, AquariUs, PlanetariUm, SanitariUm, HaLLUcinate, PLeasUre, SUre, AssUre, Um, Urn, SUpplant, SUrvey, SUrreal, SUbmit, SUmmit, SUmmer, MUtants, VULgar, QUe, TUmble, Uber, JUstice, JUst, UnJUst, JUdge, HUng, JUry, SUrrender, CaptUred, DUty, DULL, FULL, PUsh, PULL, PULse, FUeL, CULL, CaUght, SpiritUal, RitUal, Bi-LingUal, AngUish, DistUrbing, Unthinkable, GradUate, GradUaLLy, GUiLty, QUakers, JUvenile, PUnish, ArgUe, GUiLe, BegUiLe, GeniUs, GUns, HUrry, RUn, AbUndance, StrUctUre, PrejUdice, HUnger, SUffering, 

“OU” Words: SOUL, YOU, YOUr, YOU’re, COnsciOUs, UncOnsciOUs, SUbcOnsciOUs, ResUrrectiOn, SUbAtomic, YOUng, YOUth, IntUitiOn, QUestiOn, SUrvivOr, TOUch, COUntry, PrOstitUte, AssUmptiOn, COUntry MUsic, COUnty, COmpUter, COmpUtatiOn, MUtatiOn, ExpLOsiOn, COmmUtatiOn, EnOrmOUs, InnOcUOUs, AmmUnitiOn, JUniOr, PrOdUced, PrOcedUre, COmmUne, COmmUter, ResOUrce, InstrUctiOn, MiracULOUs, COmmUnicate, COmmUnicatiOn, COM, StUbbOrn, BrUtaL, ShOtgUn, MOnUment, COmply, COnstrUctiOn, OUtward, SitUatiOn, HOrUs, VirtUOUs, COmpUtation, ROUte, SOUth, SOUthern Baptist, UnknOwn, AUthOR, AUthOrize, POUr, SOUnd, ArrOUnd, FOUnd, PrOfound, JOUrnalism, OUt, WOUnd, SOUnd, FOUL, MOUth, SnOUt, LOUd, DUngeOn, PrOUd, HOUse, BOUnce, BOUnd, AbOUnd, WOnderOUs, JOUst, WOUld, COUld, ShOUld, OUch, POUch, SOLUtiOn, ThOUsand, AUtObiOgraphy, AUtOmObiLe, AUtOmatic, SOUr, SOUp, HOUr, cOntrOLLed SUbstance, MeasUre, DevOUr, POpULatiOn, ViciOUs, VenOmOUs, FUriOUs, DeleriOUS, InnOccUlate, OccUpy, ReligiOUs, COmpOUNd,  FOUr, FOUrth, PrOnOUNce, PronOUn, PrOnUnciatiOn, RenUnciatiOn, EnUnciatiOn,  RUmOrs, TUmOrs, RenOUnce, COUrt, COUrting, NOUn, RebOUnd, CaUtiOn, MOUse, LOUse, BLOUse, UndO, UndOne, FLOUnder, NauseOUs, SUbcUtaneOUs, AUdiO, FamOUs, MOUse, IbUprOfen, MOUnt, MOUntain, FOUntain, POUnd, OUnce, BOgUs, TrOUbLe, BOUght, ThOUght, ThOUgh, ALthOUgh, BrOUght, COncLUsiOn, ILLUsiOn, POdiUm, ShOULder, BOUlder, HUmOr, HUmOrOUs, AmOrphOUs, ArOUse, PLUtO, COnstrUct, COnstrUctiOn, SUrrOUnd, ArOUnd, ArOUse, PerniciOUs, DrOUght, FOUght, OUgt, SOdiUm, PLUtOniUm, OUtbreak, MOULd, HOUnd, MOUnd, FOUnd, VariOUs, NefariOUs, HilariOUs, ROUtine, SOviet UniOn, RUssia, POLygamOUs, MOnOgamOUs, DangerOUs, COUnt, COUnter, AccOUntant, ObLiviOUs, LasciviOUs, POUt, GOUt, OUtpUt, PUrpOse, PUrpOsed, GhOUL, MysteriOUs, DeliriOUs, DeliciOUs, PreciOUs, NOUrish, FLOUrish, RidicULOUs, BUttOn, OdiOUs, ROsebUd, HarmOniOUs, GlOriOUs, SagitariOUs, COmmUniOn, UniOn, RighteOUs, COmmUne, FOUnder, InstitUtiOn, COmmUnists, InvOLUntary, PsychOLOgy, BiOLOgy, NeurOLOgy, PhiLOsOphy, FLOUnder, OminOUs, COntinUes, UnLOck, SeriOUs, WarLOck, SpOUt, RevOLUtiOn, EvOLUtiOn, MiracULOUs, UnifOrm, CUneifOrm, EUrO, EUrOpe, AstrOnaUt, COstUme, ROUgh, PrOcUre, PrOdUce, PrOdUctiOn, ObscUre, MOUrn, TOUgh, OccULt, AstOUnding, NUmerOLOgy, EdUcatiOn, ALOUd, UFO, PetrOLeUm, HippOpOtamUs, ManipUlatiOn, COrrUptiOn, SUperstitiOns, ResOUrces, COmmUnity, POmpOUs, ManitOU, 

[toddrogersfl]

A nose around Jovoy Mayfair – niche fragrance heaven!

It’s coming up for Jovoy Mayfair‘s first birthday, so what better time to celebrate their arrival in the UK than by having a nose around, seeing what’s new, and thanking heaven for this niche haven in the heart of London…?

(PS: Our VIP Club Members are being offered a generous 15% discount at Jovoy between until 24th October 2018 – click here see how to claim this exclusive offer, though you’ll have to use your V.I.P. log-in to view it.

The opening of Jovoy on Mayfair’s Conduit Street in 2017 was definitely a cause for corks popping. Those of you lucky enough to go scent shopping in Paris will surely have come across Jovoy there – it opened in 2006 on the rue Castiglione – where it proved a game-changer in fragrance retail: a destination for perfumistas (from around the world, nowadays) showcasing perfume houses which had, until then, been largely unavailable.

Jovoy was the ‘baby’ of François Hénin, who previously worked exploring the olfactive riches of Vietnam, distilling raw ingredients for the perfume trade. François had his finger on the quickening pulse of the fragrance world, sensing a shift away from the ‘signature scents’ and more traditional, classic houses Parisians had tended to wear in the past.

One of the things we love best about Jovoy Mayfair is the ‘staff picks’ wall – think of it a little like those windows and display shelves in bookshops where the knowledgable staff pick out new and unusual things they think you’ll love. It’s such a great place to start sniffing, especially if you’re a little nervous about walking into a niche boutique for the first time (or simply don’t know where to begin!)

Jovoy are also happy to decant some of your favourite new finds into small sample bottles, so you can try them at home and properly get to know them – a fantastic service that we’re sure means many come back to buy the full size.

Here’s a few new scents you may find there, currently…

Jovoy say: ‘The latest perfume from Arte Profumi explores vetiver. Itself a highly prized and valuable raw material, Sine Tempore uses two different vetiver extractions (Haiti and Java) along with subtle does of lime and cardamom to shoot the root through with an insistent and citric, green note.’

Arte Profumi Sine Tempore £215 for 100l eau de parfum

  Jovoy say: ‘Hoja de Cuba is another in Berdoues’ series of Grand Crus perfumes, one that takes its cues (as the title insists) from the streets of Havana, the tobacco fields and the Cuban cigars so synonymous with them. A blend of tobacco from Turkey, allspice from Jamaica and vetiver from Haiti.’

Berdoues Hoja de Cuba £67 for 100ml eau de parfum

Jovoy say: ‘Rock ‘N’ Rouge is a game of looks exchanged between a ballerina and a member of the audience. Temptation pierces through the gloom in the theatre and Eros shoots his keenest arrow. Desire cuts across the stage and rolls like a thousand fiery marbles out towards the theatre stalls. There, in the glare of the first change in the lights, the star’s eyes set fire to those of the man who observes. And, as though by magic, all the rest of the audience disappears. He and she are the only ones who remain, without knowing each other, without ever touching. United by seduction, they are unconscious protagonists of a feline pas de deux, charged with electricity.’

THoO Rock ‘n’ Rouge £220 for 75ml eau de parfum

Did you know Jovoy also have their own amaaaazing candles (presented in glass domes within a scarlet red vintage style hatbox affair? Well now you can also get them in a customisable box: choose four fragrances (making 64 possible combinations). ‘Create your own candle set choosing one or several fragrances among the four classic candles by Jovoy: Ambre 1er, Datcha, Gardez-Moi and Marron. Each black coffret case is populated of four 80g red candles, each with approx 20 hours of diffusion. The hardest part will be to choose how many of each.’

Jovoy Custom Candle Set £80 for 4 x 80g

While we touched on the subject of nerves earlier, let’s be real about this. Not everyone feels confident about striding in to a ritzy scent shop. We’ve spoken to lots of our loyal readers and even VIP Club Members who still can feel a bit dubious about going in any fragrance shop alone.

Rest assured, Jovoy Mayfair excel at making you feel comfortable – there’s zero pressure, they’re happy to let you browse or give advice where required, and there are pots of blotters and pencils dotted all over the place, to encourage spitzing (and of course writing the name of the fragrance on the blotter so you don’t shove it in your bag and forget which it was, later… You all do this, don’t you? *waggles eyebrows*)

Downstairs, there’s a comfy sofa for relaxed wrist-sniffing situations, and a more private ‘frgarance fitting’ experience should you wish, as well as a fragrance dispensing machine and exhibits of rare (and sometimes priceless!) perfumes to make your jaw drop.

We’ve hosted several events at Jovoy since they opened, including a remarkable alcohol and fragrance pairing evening (which was every bit as wonderful as that sounds) and, most recently, our co-founder Jo Fairley interviewing maverick perfumer Geza Schoen about his Beautiful Mind Series fragrances. Sp, do keep an eye on our Events page to join us on another occasion.

Incidently, Jovoy have their very own Private Label fragrance range – for Jovoy is actually a revived and re-imagined fragrance house that once scented the bohemian A-List of 1920s Parisian bohemians. You can read about the history of Jovoy on our page dedicated to them.

In the meantime, we encourage you to venture forth into independent fragrance retailers and see an array of scents you’d never even dreamed existed! rom Neela Vermeire to Atelier Flou, L’Essence du Bois to Olfactive Studio, Jacques Fath to Perfumer du Monde, via Volnay, Jeroboam, Aedes de Venustus, Eight & Bob, Masque Milano and so many more (with a growing number of store exclusives, too).

Jovoy Mayfair 21 Conduit Street, London W1S 2XP

Written by Suzy Nightingale

The post A nose around Jovoy Mayfair – niche fragrance heaven! appeared first on The Perfume Society.

from The Perfume Society http://perfumesociety.org/a-nose-around-jovoy-mayfair-niche-fragrance-heaven/