#pray that I go to sleep fairly soon Tumblr posts
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Damian walking past Tim's room to get water in the middle of the night hearing, "yes, I know. I know. You're excited to get to the bottom of this problem. I'm aware. I hear you, really I do. You make a good case. I would really love to work on it, too." and wondering who he's speaking to, only for him to continue, "but you're trying to be GOOD about your silly little human body right now. So get up. Go to bed. You need to sleep. Don't be an idiot. Come on. It's bedtime. For real. Let's go." so Dami peeks in, and it's just Tim talking to himself, growing more frustrated by the moment (though his tone suggests nonchalance). He's still firmly planted in the chair. He tried his best.
#tim drake#idk it's just dumb and based on what I have to do to convince myself to go to sleep most days#on bad functioning days I'm B A D I'll stay up until all my tasks are completed#but on good days I'll even start standing up and go 'good job!'#so#something is definitely wrong with me but it DOES help to pep talk myself#idk I just think he'd benefit from it#damian wayne#also it doesn't have to be dami I just love my son#batfam#I'm not being very good tonight it's true I'm filled with vigor to complete my tasks#pray that I go to sleep fairly soon#i don't want to see another sunrise until after I've slept
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The best part of being his own camp counsellor is that he can wake up whenever the fuck he likes.
Nico’s a fan.
Because, however, his dumb ass made friends with the camp’s head medic, he doesn’t get to sleep in as often as he would like. He is instead often woken up before the clock strikes nine, which is a tragedy and one of the forty thousand reasons he is going to be present on Will’s judgement day. (The scales tip any which way on a regular basis, but as of last week, Will is going to hell. Unfortunate. Nico’ll still visit him, though. Bring him one half of a twizzler or something.) So when he wakes up, one lovely morning, mouth tasting like something rotted in it and sun well past halfway across the sky, he is capital-C Concerned.
What a horrible tragedy that is. Finally, for the first time in months, he was able to sleep in. And his first thought is not gratitude. Solace may indeed have to die — Nico was not this way before he started planting his annoying ass front and centre in Nico’s life. He’s quite fairly certain he used to be frightening and badass. Now Will orders him to drink milk for the sake of his calcium and he does. Gods.
“Morning,” he hedges, approaching the archery range, feeling marginally more alive than twenty minutes prior.
Kayla raises an amused eyebrow. “Dude, it’s, like, two.”
“Well fuck you, then.”
She smirks. “Aw, did baby not get his Sunshine fix of the day? Is that why he’s so grumpy?”
It really sucks that Will is so fond of his siblings. Nico wonders if Will would still like him if he knew how many times he daydreams of transporting Kayla onto the moon per day.
“As soon as I figure out which god would appreciate you as a sacrifice, you’re gone.”
“Yeah, right,” she snorts, turning away and lining up an arrow. She lets it fly, watching as it shaves a splinter off a hunk of wood fifty feet away. “You couldn’t get close enough to kick my ass before I’d skewer you, di Angelo.”
Remembering the warning arrow Kayla had shot through his shoulder last week, he wisely chooses not to press the matter any further. The power visibly goes to her head. Fuck.
“Just — tell me where Will is.”
“Why?” She strings another arrow. The grin on her face is a level of shit-eating that Nico has only before seen on a Stoll. She should spend less time around Julia, or else the camp is in for some serious trouble. “What are your intentions with my dear brother?”
Nico, on principle, refuses to answer that question. Kayla shrugs, finishing her shot and then turning around to stick her tongue out at him.
“No answer, no location! Find him yourself, loverboy. And remember that I am always watching.”
Stomping away, and ignoring the smile twitching at his lips — she is so annoying, truly, gods above he owes Bianca a thousand apologies for ever opening his mouth — he heads towards the infirmary. There are only six locations Will is at any given time, after all, except when he disappears for several hours randomly but Nico doesn’t know how to bring that up yet. As he approaches the infirmary, though, he hears it absolutely blasting with music, like genuinely shaking the ground a little bit, and knows exactly where to find him.
As he approaches the door, wincing at the door, he finds it closed. Odd — Will likes a breeze when he works. Even odder is the hastily-written sign pasted onto it:
ANNUAL CLEAN OUT DAY. IF YOU NEED ME, TOUGH SHIT. IF YOU NEED A BANDAID, TOUGH SHIT. IF YOU’RE BLEEDING OUT, CALL AN AMBULANCE AND PRAY. I AM BUSY.
(‘Busy’ is underlined three times.)
In smaller print, under the all-caps monstrosity, is:
Unless you’re Nico, in which case disregard the previous sentiment. No, Cecil, this does NOT mean you.
The note is written again in Ancient Greek, Latin, Spanish, Portuguese, French, Mandarin, Italian, Polish, Korean, Morse Code, and another ten languages Nico can’t even name. Actually, wait — the top left is Klingon. And middle right note does not appear to be language, showing instead a poorly drawn stick figure in armour being shoved into a cannon and shot into the sun by another poorly drawn stick figure in a lab coat. Nico loves a man who’s multi-talented, indeed.
Hesitantly, Nico cracks open the door. He is immediately assaulted by a solid wall of sound, and then nearly bowled over by the enigma himself, William ‘I Can Restructure A Human Brain But Cannot Tie My Shoelaces’ Solace. He catches himself at the last second, and then barely manages to catch Will, grabbing him around the waist just before his head hits the floor.
“Nico!” he shouts over the music, smiling brightly. “Hi! You’re here!”
“I’m here.” He can physically feel his voice cracking, but luckily the music drowns it out. Hopefully. “Uh, what’re you doing?”
“Cleaning!” Will straightens up, although he stays within the circle of Nico’s arms. Nico tries real hard to keep his gaze firmly planted on his face and not on the hands he still has in his hips. “I do it once a year, kick everybody out and deep clean the place. Helps keep it fresh and minimize the bloodstains on the floor.”
“Ah. And the music…”
“It’s fun!” Will shouts. He gasps when the CD player skips and a new song comes on, heavy base and funky synths blasting so hard the window panes shake. “Oh my gods! I love this one!” He turns his bright grin at Nico full force, absolutely no holdbacks on the dimples or freckles, gods help him, and bows cheekily. “Can I have this dance, good sir?”
“It’s Britney Spears’ Outrageous,” Nico protests weakly.
“Yeah!”
…Very, very weakly.
“…Okay.”
Will whoops, grabbing his hands and spinning him around. Nico yelps, nearly tripping over a cot, but when he looks back up Will has his eyes closed and is shimmying not unlike a worm on a fish hook, and it’s so ridiculous that he can’t help but laugh. Will pries one eye open, grinning widely, and shimmies harder.
“You’re such a dweeb!”
“Join me in the dweebiness! Free yourself!”
Nico rolls his eyes fondly, squeezing Will’s hand, and lets himself get ridiculous. He’ll deny it if anyone asks, but it’s fun.
…And not just because Will is next to him, smile brighter than any star, dancing like a massive dork, hand clasped in his.
#barely edited this one i’m SLEEPY#pjo#percy jackson and the olympians#hoo#heroes of olympus#pjo hoo toa#nico di angelo#kayla knowles#nico di angelo & kayla knowles#will solace#nico di angelo & will solace#nico di angelo/will solace#solangelo#pre solangelo#pining nico di angelo#mutual pining#fluff#100 ways#100 ways to say i love you#my writing#fic#longpost
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𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝕺𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝕸𝖊
[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 soon
Author's Note: Hi... I finally finish this part. The last two are actually fairly close to being done, I was just really held up on this one. It's not my favorite, but I just had to get it done.
Summary: A Night Lord becomes interested in you while you stand under the eyes of your Salamander guardian, and you find yourself stuck between two titans.
Relationships: Yandere Salamander/Fem!Reader/Yandere Night Lord
Warnings: Hints of nsfw at points, Yandere, Size differences, Very toxic suffocating relationship(s), Some knight/princess dynamics, Demeaning language, Both these guys have hero complexes, Violence blood and bruises and possibly death to say without spoilers
Word Count: 1376
Ever since the moment you met him, Lev has been your shadow whenever Ralkan isn’t around.
Every time, not long after you leave your quarters, he seems to find you.
Whereas the Salamanders have rigid training regimens they must abide by every single day- though day is a bit of a loose term in the depths of space - it seems the Night Lords are largely left up to their own devices as you travel to their destination.
You suppose it makes sense, daily training wouldn’t do much for them other than entertainment; These Night Lords are clearly the best of the their genestock, brought aboard to show the Salamanders who they were working with.
Ralkan had been extremely displeased with you when you’d called this all a pissing contest. The much younger Salamander in your company at the time had snickered at your joke before getting quickly reprimanded and sulked his way back to the firing range.
But as much as he denied your comment and attempted to dissuade any ill will between the two legions as merely the occasion disagreement, you've heard from around the ship that attempts to keep things amicable however have largely failed. You’ve heard rumors of the Night Lords getting into fights with Salamanders, barking and goading confrontation like rowdy, feral street dogs.
Ever since Lev had an altercation with a Salamander- you don't even know if he was the first one to do so- it seems to have only gotten worse. And you still have at least another two weeks in travel before you reach your destination, with everyone trapped in here like fish in a barrel.
At least the Salamanders have weapons, the baseline humans aboard the ship have been forced to shuffle around and avoid eyesight of any Night Lords, and pray they don't stick out of the crowd.
Your conversations with the others aboard the ship might be brief, but you know that some have gone missing. As if the implications let out by Lev's cohorts at the time of your first meeting hadn't already queued you in on it.
Sitting at your desk in the midst of some monotonous work you glance to your left, leaning over to open a drawer and reveal the contents.
The centerpiece of them all is a Night Lord combat knife. The metal shines, but far less that you would expect it to. It's like it eats the very light that touches it. You kept it hidden, Emperor forbid Ralkan found it, but...
You didn't want to throw it away either.
You could hear the sound of the pipes thrumming as you looked up at Lev, and he looks down on you. A serf passed by behind him at a quick pace; Even quicker when Lev turned just slightly at the neck to watch them and make sure they moved along.
He'd found a moment in-between moments- the few seconds where Ralkan wasn't watching - to find you. Perhaps that should unsettle you. But he's given you the first real conversations you've had in awhile besides Ralkan, and you couldn't help but pause.
Ralkan is a safe embrace, Lev is a precarious drop; But you keep looking over the edge.
"You look tired," He said, looking down at you with lazy eyes. He always looks somewhat sleepy and unimpressed himself.
"I was going back to my quarters to sleep, until you stopped me." He grew a smirk that showed sharp, near overgrown canine teeth.
"Maybe you should tell that Salamander of yours to back off then."
You crossed your arms across your chest like a self-assuring hug and focused on the bat wings stretched across the chestplate of his armor.
"Do you know he always has eyes on you? Even when he isn't around? Even his brothers are watching you."
You assumed he's been having trouble getting a moment where it's just you; Many have, not just him. Ralkan has watched you so intently since Lev started sinking his talons into you, and despite finding comfort in him keeping the Night Lord with unknown intentions at bay, you also find yourself tugging away for just an inch of space.
Unfortunately, that space leads right into Lev.
"...His name is Ralkan."
You swallow a knot in your throat. As much as you knew you could talk to Ralkan, push back against some things he said, you had no idea where Lev's limits are; What words might make him decide you're more fun as toy he can break than one he's gentle with.
"Here."
Lev reached to his belt and pulled a knife from it, tossing it in the air gently to grab it by the blade tip and push it out towards you. You didn't touch it, leaning away and staring at it like it's diseased. It might as well be; You don't know what unsaid intentions you'd be accepting if you took it from him.
"I saw your Salamander gave you something," You assumed he was talking about a small trinket Ralkan had made at the forge for you, one of a few. The necklace that dangles around you neck at all times now was also from him.
A practice with things more delicate, he had said.
"Here's something of my own. Don't lose it."
You hadn't lost it, but it had taken some hiding to keep it out of Ralkan's sight. You knew that if he saw it, the rough and disgusting gift- much unlike Ralkan's delicate one - would be gone in an instant.
Perhaps you shouldn't care, it's from an astartes you barely know, but something about it just makes you want to keep it.
Your entire vision as been Ralkan over these past few months. Especially these recent weeks since Lev arrived. The sight of something, someone else is almost enthralling- no matter how dangerous. You've caught yourself looking at the knife multiple times now, remembering the way Lev's armoured fingers wrapped around sharp edge of the blade as he gave it to you, even once having to slam the drawer shut quickly just before Ralkan entered your room to take you somewhere.
He hasn't caught wind of the knife itself yet, but you have a feeling he knows you're hiding something. He's given you openings to say, but you've declined them all. You assume he knows Lev is somehow finding you and is hoping you'll tell him how, what rat holes he's using to get to you, and it frustrates him that you won't.
He probably thinks the astartes is threatening you to not tell him. Rather than that you don't want to.
You close the drawer, hearing the contents jingle around while sighing.
You'd curse even coming aboard the Flamewrought, but you can't deny the advantages of being here. Your work, the people you've met, though most of those people are gone; Ralkan is almost all that remains. You speak to some of his men at times, but the interaction is always brief and controlled.
“Where’s your Salamander now, little one?”
You suddenly burst up from your chair, it sliding with a hideous squeal as you hit it with the back of your knees and nearly stumble over. Lev meanwhile stands in the doorway, watching before stepping inward. You take a step backward as his right hand reaches out to slam the door controls and shut it behind him.
“He left you all alone in here?”
You hold your hands close to your chest as if trying to protect yourself, watching him stare at you with black eyes.
“These are my quarters, he doesn’t stay here.”
Lev scoffs and rolls his eyes. He steps closer, ignoring the way you step back to try and maintain the distance. Seeing him in the halls is one thing; There's a chance a Salamander could see you in distress and help you, or you could scream and try to run, but here you're far out of the way of everyone else by design, and with nowhere to even try fleeing to.
"I'm sure he would choose otherwise, had he the chance. He keeps a very close eye on you, you know. He'd be quite disappointed you left the door unlocked." You do know, quite well in fact, and reiterate as such.
"I'm... Well aware of how through his guardianship is."
He must find either you or the situation funny, and laughs.
"What then, does his Salamander duty and rigor prevent him from going any further? Or do you have someone else already, and he's forced to keep his hands to himself?" He laughs again, but it comes out like an indignant snort.
"A pity, I'm sure it makes him furious having to spend so much time protecting a little thing like you and not even get to enjoy it."
It's cold in this room, always is- the entire ship is chilled, recirculated air - and it makes you able to feel the noticeable heat radiating from his body and his armor as he approaches you.
He smiles, leaning in closer. You know you're out of space when your shoulderblades finally knock against the wall.
Closer again. You can feel his breath on your face, how his long hair tickles your skin. Even closer and his stubble rubs against your skin, burning it.
His lips press against yours and you whimper into his mouth, a noise that makes him moan. Your fear spurs him on and he presses his lips to yours harder, feeling when your hands grab the seams of his armour and either try to helplessly push him away, or at least hold on until he's finished with you. The scar across his upper lip scrapes against yours much like his stubble does- everything about him is rough and jagged. Only when your whimpers get louder and start turning into muffled cries does he finally pull away, his teeth raking over your bottom lip before he pulls them away with a soft ‘pop’.
His smile his bright, like he just found a brand new toy.
“You are soft,”
He says, twisting his brother’s words from weeks earlier. He has this look in his eyes, bright with curiosity, like he’s enthralled by something so simple. You can feel your heart slamming against your chest as you stand in his shadow, tears wanting to prick at the corners of your eyes. You know you have something he wants, but while he's being gentle, the vast unknown behind his eyes his terrifying. But is that unknown better that suffocating?
Lev seems to think it is, one his his gauntlets gripping your clothing as gentle as the armour allows him.
"I can take you, I'll get you away from him and I can keep you safe, all to mys-"
"Get away from her."
Lev pulls back, turning to see Ralkan standing in the opening doorway. His hand rests on the handle of his chainsword ready to pull the trigger and rev it to life, and the look he's giving the Night Lord is nothing short of hellfire.
"It is one thing to be on our ship, but I thought I was quite firm in my orders to keep your disgusting hands off of her, and keep your distance."
The smile Lev had quickly fades into an unimpressed and angry sort of look, wrinkling his nose. He doesn't move away from you, instead just turning.
"You don't get to order me around. I'm no brother of yours."
That struck a nerve of Ralkan's, you can instantly tell. His shoulders squared and his hand flexes around the handle of his chainsword, just tight enough that you hear the engine start to kick on and the chain's teeth rattle as it threatens to spin to life.
“I am from Nocturne. I am well versed in slaying dragons, a rat like you should be nothing at all.”
Lev rolls his eyes, unimpressed by Ralkan's formality. He finally turns from trapping you against the wall to give the Salamander his full attention, allowing you to scurry off to the side.
But while Lev seems casual his hand rests close to his own blade, and despite the smirk on his face and casual lean he is just as prepared to fight as Ralkan is.
“Even if you do kill me Salamander, it doesn’t change that you’re just hoarding her all to yourself.”
The two and their energies make this room feel microscopic in size, as Ralkan shifts and evens his footing. Lev straightens up slightly, putting his hands closer to the weapons hanging from his hip.
You stand back trapped in here with them, with no chance of racing by without either one grabbing you for themselves.
You can only step back, and hope that it doesn’t escalate any further than this.
#warhammer 40k x reader#space marine x reader#salamander x reader#reader insert#reader#mywriting#Yandere!Salamander/Fem!Reader/Yandere!NightLord
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“ you know, i talk to a lot of people every single day. i hear all their voices telling me all kinds of stuff; i hear it all. and the only voice i really wanna listen to is yours, you know? even when you’re driving me crazy. so come on. please… just drive me crazy again? “
Brian ‘Otis’ Zvonecek x fem
From The Loudest Silence Prompt List
Love your work 😊🩷
Loudest Silence - [ Brian ‘Otis’ Zvonecek ]
Prompt: “You know, I talk to a lot of people every single day. I hear all their voices telling me all kinds of stuff; I hear it all. And the only voice I really wanna listen to is yours, you know? Even when you’re driving me crazy. So come on. Please… Just drive me crazy again?”
Word Count: 1296
Warnings: female!reader
Masterlist | Otis Masterlist
You didn’t like shutting yourself away from people. Didn’t like having them worry about you and whether or not you were going to slip and do something they couldn’t save you from. Otis especially. You hated hiding yourself away from him but after yesterday's shift, after what you saw, what you heard, you couldn’t help but want to lock yourself away from the world. And everyone in it.
“Baby?” Otis’s soft voice called through the wood of your bedroom door, a gentle knock following behind as he waited patiently for you to respond. He knew you more than likely wouldn't, given that the door was locked, a clear indication that you wanted to be left alone, but he’d be damned if he stopped himself from trying. “Please open the door… I’m worried about you.”
A few moments of silence went by, silence in which Otis’s stomach tied itself together so tightly that it felt like he was about to be snapped in half at the waist. He couldn’t help but think the worst when he didn’t hear your soft voice reply back to him like you normally did. Even if you’d just told him to go away, he’d happily take that as at least then he knew you were semi-okay, but to get nothing but silence in return, it worried him greatly.
Otis had never seen you like this before, not even after the railroad incident where you and Mills saw that little girl scattered across the tracks, well mostly you as you shielded Mills from it given that he was barely a few months into his candidacy position and you didn’t want to him to be scarred for life so soon. You’d locked yourself away after that too but never to the point where you actually locked the door and refused to let Otis in, even though it was his bedroom too. But he never said anything about it as he didn’t care about sleeping on the couch at night. All he cared about was you and whether you were okay.
“You know…” Otis began, unsure whether this would work but he was willing to give it a try. “I talk to a lot of people every single day. We both do… I hear all their voices telling me all kinds of stuff; I hear it all. And the only voice I really wanna listen to is yours, you know? Even when you’re driving me crazy. So come on. Please… Just drive me crazy again?”
Otis was practically begging at this point. Pleading. Praying for even just the slightest noise to leave your lips. To tell him you were okay. To tell him that you just needed time to yourself. Hell even if you’d just tell him to go away or tell him off for leaving his socks on the floor again. At this point he’d take anything he could get just to know you were still with him. And as he stood there, his hands a little shaky as nothing but silence engulfed the air around him, he was fairly certain he wouldn’t get to hear anything leave your mouth except the sobs that haunted his nightmares.
“Okay, I’ll leave you alone...” Otis sighed in defeat, his forehead pressing against the door as he briefly shut his eyes. “But just remember that I love you and if you need to talk, I’m here… I’m always here.”
The click of the doors lock had Otis’s eyes snap open, his head flying back as he straightened his position. It took a few seconds of hesitation before he watched the door open in real time, and when your blotchy, tear stained face came into view, your eyes puffy and red from crying, it broke his heart more than anything ever had.
“I didn’t think you’d ever beg me to drive you crazy.” You chuckled weakly, a small, almost unnoticeable, smile appearing on your face. One no one but Otis would be able to notice and one that made all the tension in his chest slowly start to fade away as he never thought he’d ever get to see you smile again.
“At this point I’d take whatever I can get just to hear your voice.” Otis said softly and with a gentle smile as he stepped forward and across the doorway, bringing one hand up to your face where he ghosted his thumb just below your eye, feeling the dampness of your tears beneath his skin.
“I’m sorry.” You whispered, your lip trembling as your eyes began to water again, making Otis close the gap between your bodies and pull yours against his, wrapping his arms tightly around you as you buried your face deep into the crook of his neck. “I didn’t mean to shut you out.”
��Don’t apologise.” Otis said soothingly, stroking the back of your hair the way he knew you liked. He turned his head a little, placing a long, lingering kiss on the side of yours as he held you, allowing you to cry in his arms rather than on your own like you had been.
“You left your socks on the floor again.” You mumbled into his neck, the hotness of your breath causing a wave of goosebumps to erupt across his skin before he pulled back just a little, having not made out what you said.
“What’s that?” He asked quietly, making you look up at him through glassy eyes.
“You left your socks on the floor.” You repeated, making the corners of his lips twitch upwards a little. “And you left the toilet seat up. Again.” You added, making him chuckle softly and shake his head a little.
“I guess I brought this on myself by asking you to drive me crazy.” He chuckled, cupping your face with both hands as he stared deeply into your eyes, the intense pain you were feeling still hidden behind the facade you were so good at putting on. “Which you don’t by the way, you could never drive me crazy… I just needed a way to get you to see me.”
“I know.” You nodded briefly, looking down before Otis lifted your face back up to eye level. “I just didn’t want to burden you with all of this.” You gestured around yourself, as though motioning to your ability to allow even the smallest of incidents to turn you into a mere shell of a person.
“Baby, you’re not burdening me… You could never burden me.” Otis said assuringly, using his thumbs to wipe away the few tears that had fallen from your eyes before he lowered his hand to take yours, bringing them up between your chests where he ran his thumb over your engagement ring. “This right here… This means that I’m here for you, no matter what. No matter how much of a burden you think you’re being, I can tell you that you’re not, otherwise I’d have never asked you to marry me.”
“I’m so lucky to have you.” You whispered, your voice breaking a little as you looked down at your joined hands, feeling the warm tears drip from your eyes and land atop your skin.
“I’m definitely the lucky one in our relationship, but I’ll take that as a compliment.” Otis chuckled, his heart warming when you returned it with a soft laugh of your own. “Now come here.” He pulled you back into his arms, allowing you to rest your head against his chest, where you could hear the beat of his heart that he often told you belonged to you. “I love you, you know that right?”
“I know.” You replied, kissing his chest, just above his heart before you rubbed your cheek against the softness of his t-shirt. “And I love you too.”
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A Swallow's Symphony In Spring (4/19)
Chapter 4 - And Watch the Swallows as they Fly
<- Previous | Masterpost | Next ->
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Warnings: Physical abuse (both on and off 'screen'), implied past abuse, injuries, touch starvation.
Word Count: 3191
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It became a routine.
The library was quiet and usually fairly empty. Roman had no problem with the extra hours spent reading if it meant he could let Virgil rest at least a little bit, goodness knows his poor guard hadn’t been getting enough sleep up until this point, the bags under his eyes and gaunt look on his face proved that much. It had taken quite a lot of effort on his part to convince his guard that he wouldn’t go anywhere before Virgil felt confident to fall asleep on the comfortable couches as Roman curled up with a familiar book. He’d taken precautions to make sure they weren’t caught too.
Being trapped in this palace for the last six years had its perks, and one of those was the fact that Roman was well aware of not only the secret servant’s passages all across the palace but also the guard’s schedule, he thought he’d be able to protect them both.
Roman should have known he could do no such thing.
—-
“A little bird told me that you’ve been getting up to things you shouldn’t,” The Queen said with a smile one night at dinner, Roman tensed, glancing back at Virgil behind him immediately - had Virgil told on him? But why?
“Not your guard, dear,” The Queen said grabbing Roman’s attention again. “One of our more loyal servants informed me that the two of you have been spending time in the library - talking informally, and that your guard has been sleeping on the job,”
“I- wait-”
“Is this true Roman?” she asked him harshly, narrowing her eyes.
“...Yes, Your Majesty.” He says, ducking his head and praying that she won’t react too badly.
The Queen simply hummed, before standing up gracefully from her chair, she snapped her fingers before pointing to the spot before her. “Wynter,” she said, tone commanding. Roman watches with worried eyes as Virgil quickly makes his way over to stand before her.
A resounding crack echoed through the banquet hall as her gloved hand made contact with Virgil’s cheek, his head whipping to the side. A heavy silence enveloped the room as a speck of blood dripped from his cheek where one of her heavy rings had cut him. Virgil’s head remained bowed as she readied for another slap before Roman jumped up.
“Wait!” he cried, moving over. “Your Majesty - please, it’s not his fault, it’s mine . I told him-”
“Roman dear, you must stop taking the blame for these filthy peasants,” the Queen says, glaring down at him, he thinks for a terrible moment that it wont work, but she sighs.“But if you insist, I hope you learn to have more respect for our rules, both you and your insolent guard,” she once more snaps at Virgil. “Out of my sight, now.”
A moment passed in which they shared a glance. Virgil’s expression concerned despite the blood slowly trickling down his cheek and Roman scared of what would happen once he was gone. An angry huff from the Queen had Virgil - and every other servant - rushing out of the room and Roman turned back to her so he could face Virgil’s punishment - that he’d only received because of Roman’s own actions anyway. He deserved this, he told himself that as his head snapped to the side and he felt the bruise begin to form. He didn’t even make a sound, used to all of this by now.
—
By the time the Queen was through, Roman was kneeling, holding back tears just until the heavy doors closed behind her. Salty tears flowed freely now across Roman’s bruised face, he ached - and he knew he’d have more training tomorrow even though he was supposed to have a free day. Everything hurt, even the parts of his body she hadn’t damaged. He’d move soon, make his way back to his room and try to sleep on it - oh, he had to check whether Virgil was okay. He cursed himself - how could he possibly have thought any of this was a good idea? She always found out eventually.
He hadn’t heard the doors open, but suddenly someone was putting their hand on his shoulder. He felt his whole body jolt, but he was gently hushed by a familiar voice as he knelt down before him.
“Hey Roman,” Virgil said softly. “Come on, you gotta get up - I’ll get you back to your room, okay?”
We need to get somewhere safe to talk, wasn't said, but Roman could see it in the look he gave when their eyes met, Virgil’s stormy eyes full of worry, concern for Roman’s safety. No servant had ever come back for him after he’d taken the fall for them before.
Slowly, he stood with Virgil’s help. He kept an arm around him in order to keep him steady and Roman found himself appreciating it immensely when he stumbled again and Virgil caught him easily. As they walked back, Virgil let him go, but he found himself yearning for that warm touch to come back. He knew it was unrealistic, after everything that had just happened, to expect that Virgil would still want to be friends with him, he would probably want to go back to how they had been before that first day in the library. Small glances and waves as they walked away were safe. This? This wasn’t.
“Come in here,” Roman said softly when Virgil went to split off into his room, Roman gestured for him to follow into his own chambers, “Please?”
Even if they went back to normal afterwards, Roman still needed to talk to him - he had to know if he was okay.
Hesitantly, Virgil followed him in.
As soon as the door shut behind them, Virgil was right in front of him, gentle but shaking fingers tilting Roman’s chin up to the light. He blinked as Virgil examined his face - lightly tilting it back and forth to inspect the bruises. Roman just stood there, hands slightly raised, unsure what on earth he should be doing with himself in this situation.
“How badly does it hurt?” Virgil asked him, still holding his face gently.
“Um-” Roman said, lost for words, “I’m fine, really - you don’t have to -”
“I could’ve handled it,” Virgil said, looking sad now, “That’s what I’m here for, I’m supposed to protect you, now - you didn’t answer my question, how badly does it hurt?”
“But- but it was my fault?” Roman said, confused. “I deserved - I’d told you to sleep, you didn’t deserve the punishment for it-”
“It doesn’t matter who deserves what,” Virgil said forcefully, “You’re hurt, it’s my duty to protect you from things that might hurt you. I failed. So now I want to make it better, okay?”
Roman didn’t know what to say to that, but he suddenly felt like he would start crying again if he wasn’t too careful. He also felt all warm under the pain and couldn’t tell quite why.
“Will you please let me help?” Virgil asked, taking his hand back and suddenly looking wary. “I’m sorry if I overstepped- but-”
“No- no, it’s okay,” Roman said, raising a hand. “I’m just- overwhelmed, I don’t…” he takes a deep breath and shakes his head, “It hurts, a lot - aches, but I’ve had worse- it’s-”
“Is this why you have nightmares?” Virgil cut him off bluntly. Roman blinked. “Because they hurt you?”
“I- no? I mean- this is normal, isn’t it?” he asked, suddenly confused. No-one had ever done anything about what his parents did, or even told him otherwise. Even their doctor had said nothing about it when he patched Roman up after some of the worse ones, though he had always looked upset. “Doesn’t everyone…?”
Virgil’s gaze went from sad to sympathetic to furious in the span of about two seconds, it shocked Roman into silence once again. “I… Roman, no… not everyone’s parents do this. Just because they’re in charge doesn’t mean they should get to- fuck Roman! She hit you!”
“I don’t…. I don’t understand,” Roman said weakly. He didn’t understand why Virgil was so angry, he didn’t understand why no-one had helped him - and his brother too - if this wasn’t normal, did that mean he really did deserve it? Something flashed in Virgili’s eyes again, though he wasn’t sure what it was.
“I know and I’m sorry,” Virgil sighed. “Just- go and sit down, I’ve got something that might help…”
Muttering to himself, Virgil turned away to head to the door that connected their rooms. Roman watched him go - a little sad that he’d left so soon - before following his instructions and taking a seat on his bed. Whilst he waited he removed his crown and some of his jewellery, placing the glittering pieces down on his end table before sighing. He locked his hands together in his lap and glanced around nervously. His leg started bouncing but he quickly stopped it with a press of his hand - movements like that weren’t proper, that’s what his parents always told him.
He’d just started to doubt that Virgil was really returning when he appeared once more through the door, pushing it open with his foot since his hands were full. One hand holding a small glass jar and the other carrying a steaming mug. Walking over, Virgil gave him a small awkward smile, before offering him the mug. Roman took it carefully, inspecting the contents before sniffing it, frowning at the smell. He looked up at Virgil - trying to communicate his confusion with a look - he got a laugh in response.
“It’s tea,” Virgil pointed out. “It’s cinnamon and lemongrass - helps with pain.”
“You’re sure it won’t poison me?” Roman gives him an incredulous look.
“If I wanted to kill you, do you not think I’d have done it already?” Virgil said gruffly, raising an eyebrow.
Roman looks back down at the tea. “I suppose,” he said, before taking a tentative sip and wrinkling his nose. “It tastes strange.”
“They’re peasant’s herbs,” Virgil says. “Your parents probably deem them unworthy of their taste buds, but they help.”
Taking another sip of the tea, Roman sighed and allowed himself to relax, letting the drink warm him. The flavour wasn’t terrible, it just wasn’t something he was used to.
“And what’s that?” Roman asked a few moments later, placing the tea to the side and gesturing to the small jar in Virgil’s hands. His guard glanced down with a frown - as though he’d forgotten he was holding it.
“It’s a cream my uh - my friend made me,” Virgil said, the hesitation confusing Roman. He wondered why he was so unwilling to call whoever he’s talking about a friend. He supposed it wasn’t really any of his business, was it? “I don’t have much, but I can use this on the worst of your bruises - may I?”
“I… suppose I could allow you, but only if you let me put some on yours, too.” Roman said. He knew his bruises were a lot worse than the one Virgil had, but he wanted to help him too. It almost felt like a duty, since he was the one who had gotten Virgil hurt in the first place.
"You- want to?" Virgil asked, "I mean- I'm sure I could handle it myself, I've done it before…"
"Please?" Roman asked, "I got you hurt, so I want to help."
“But you…” Virgil said, looking at him for long enough that Roman shifted in discomfort. “Alright, I suppose, but let me do yours first, yours are worse.”
“...Fine,” Roman agreed. If it meant he’d be able to help Virgil too then he’d let him. He took another sip of the tea, he thought it might be helping - he wasn’t certain.
Virgil smiled that small, rare smile and nodded. “May I sit with you?”
“I- yes, of course,” Roman nodded, slightly surprised by the question.
“Good - now stay still for me, okay?”
With permission granted, Virgil shifted to sit down next to him on the bed. Roman put the tea down so that nothing would be in the way as Virgil hesitantly dabbed the cold creamy substance onto the worst of the bruises - his cheek - before beginning to gently rub it in. The touch was slow and steady, gentle and hesitant but practised. It was clear that Virgil knew what he was doing. Trying to stay obediently still led to him barely moving a muscle whilst Virgil gently worked the cream into his skin. He couldn’t help a few winces when he pressed a little too hard on the tender skin, but Virgil didn’t get upset at him for it, simply shifted so he wasn’t pressing so hard.
When Virgil was eventually finished with the cream, Roman found himself yearning for his hands to come back, even if it wasn’t a realistic thing to expect - he still wanted Virgil’s hands back.
Finally it was his turn. Virgil watched tentatively as Roman removed his white gloves, something he wasn’t supposed to do at all in the presence of anyone, let alone his guard. Touching things got him dirty, made him impure, that’s what his parents said, and touching people was supposed to be even worse. That didn’t explain, though, why Virgil’s gentle touches had been so nice. If they were evil, then surely they wouldn’t have felt so calming. Frowning at his thoughts, Roman carefully dips two of his fingers into the pot of cream, just as Virgil had, before beginning to apply it to the now purple bruise on Virgil’s face.
It took him much longer than Virgil had to do the exact same thing. Roman was more hesitant by a landslide than Virgil had been to touch him. Clearly sensing his worry - the first time Roman’s fingers came in contact with Virgil’s skin he had flinched away in surprise before coming back - Virgil leant into his hand, trying to show him that this was okay. It wasn’t evil or wrong to touch and by the time Roman had finished gently rubbing the cream into Virgil’s skin he found he was starting to realise that.
The room was silent for long enough that Roman started to feel a sense of restlessness that made him need to break the silence, “I’m sorry any of this happened,” he settled on eventually. Virgil frowned, taking a handkerchief and reaching for Roman’s hand to wipe away the excess cream, leaving Roman’s hand tingling when he released it again.
“Don’t be - you were trying to help,” Virgil said once he was done, shaking his head.
“But-”
“No,please - I don’t want you to be hurt, but - I feel like… maybe I understand, a bit better now.” Virgil said, tucking away the handkerchief and frowning.
“Understand what?” he asked.
“You.” Virgil shrugged.
“...Oh,” Roman says, looking down. Like he had done many times, Virgil reached for him, only to stop himself halfway and join his hands in his lap.
“Sorry,” Virgil said softly, “I mean - my apologies, just- some of the ways you act make much more sense now.”
Roman tilted his head, “Like what?”
“Oh just- it’s like - earlier when you admitted to her what had been going on when she questioned you and - I kinda expected you to argue back? Or like - lie? Because that’s what I’d react if something unfair like that happened - and I got kinda angry that you’d throw me under the cart like that - and then all of that happened,” Virgil screwed the lid back onto the jar harshly, “And now I get why you didn’t try to argue.”
“It would’ve been so much worse for the both of us had I tried to go against her,” Roman says, looking down at his hands. He wished he would have fought, he should have been able to, to protect Virgil from her cruelty if not himself, but he hadn’t.
Virgil nodded, holding tightly to the jar in his hands, “Has… has she always been like that?”
“Yes.”
“And - your father?”
“He sits and watches it happen.” Roman says, looking away.
“But that’s… that’s not what causes your nightmares?”
“I don’t want to talk about this.” Roman said, tone turning sharp. He regretted it barely a moment later when Virgil flinched back a little, eyes wide.
Both of them took a deep breath before Virgil spoke, “Okay, we don’t have to.”
A few moments passed in silence before Roman pulled himself together, “I offer my apologies - for snapping at you.”
“Roman, considering you were raised with her as your example I’m genuinely surprised you’re even a somewhat decent person,” Virgil huffed. “Snapping at someone once isn’t that bad. Thanks for the apology, though.”
“Well - you deserved one, and I’m still sorry that you got hurt at all, I thought the library would be safe,” Roman sighs. “I don’t know where we can be to talk, now, if you still wanted to at all.”
“Well you’re better company than the walls in my room.” Virgil shrugged.
“I quite agree,” Roman nodded.
“We could - excuse me if this is intruding - but we could use our rooms?” Virgil suggested with a tilt of his head, “No-one comes in here, do they?”
“Not aside from the maids who deliver my meals and clean every so often, no.” Roman said. He supposed that would work, though he was still a little apprehensive about the idea. His chambers were still practically the only private place he had left, he wasn’t sure how he felt about allowing Virgil to be in here frequently. Then again, Virgil was in here now, wasn’t he? And Roman didn’t particularly mind all that much.
“Then we could use here? Or my room?” Virgil suggested.
“Not your room,” Roman said immediately. He’s not sure he could even walk through that door - not with all the memories that came with it. Laughing, crying, talking for hours and hours into the night with just a single candle to light the room - he just couldn’t do it.
Curiosity crossed Virgil’s expression, but he was grateful that his guard chose not to question it. “Well - okay then, do you have any other ideas…?”
“No, no- we can use my chambers, that’s alright,” Roman said eventually, shaking his head, it’s not like they had any better options. “We’ll just have to - to make sure we’re careful about the guards outside, but- this is probably the only place she doesn’t have her spies - that’s the real reason she hired you, I think.”
Virgil seems to hold back a laugh. “To spy on you?”
Nodding, Roman takes Virgil in for a second. “Why is that humorous?”
“Hm? Oh - it’s just that she expects me to snitch on you like that,” Virgil huffs. “Why would I? Especially now I know what she’ll do to you.”
Although he already knew that Virgil wouldn’t tell the Queen about what they were doing, the reassurance still washed over him like a wave. The constant fear that she would somehow find out about everything he hid - his nightmares, his journals - abated just a little by those simple words.
“Thank you, Virgil,” Roman said softly, “I appreciate that very much.”
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#sanders sides#sanders sides fanfiction#tss fanfic#prinxiety#virgil sanders#roman sanders#ts roman#ts virgil#rowan writes
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16 Lenaa
16 “This bed isn’t made for two people.”
You were still fairly new in Wolfsburg, having just joined this season. So you still haven’t found the time to completely design and decorate your apartment with the busy schedule, instead just using the simple furniture the club gave you to have a less stressful start.
The furniture being a small bed and table, a couch and luckily for you already a kitchen, not having to take care of getting one yourself, which could have taken ages. Sure, the current kitchen was small, but more than enough for you.
With the current state of your apartment, you haven’t bothered inviting someone to it, so not a single one of your teammates have been at your place yet. But this was about to change as Lena invited herself over to your place for a movie night.
Lena was the first to approach you on your first day, offering to show you around the city, which made the transfer much easier than you first thought it could be. Soon you formed rituals together, like the movie night which was usually held at her place but deciding that it’s finally time to see your apartment, she approached you after training announcing that she would be there at your usual time with food.
So now, sitting in the half empty living room, you two enjoy your food while watching a movie on the TV that’s still on the floor instead of the still unpacked TV-Table you bought but never had the time or the mood to build.
After you two finished your food and the movie was also done, Lena speaks up, “Alright, ready to get more comfortable?”, signaling that she wants to watch the other movies in bed, as you always do so you two wouldn’t have to get up later when already feeling tired.
“Sure, you go ahead while I throw the package in the trash and get something to drink, the room is down the hall.”
With a nod, she makes her way to your room, while you quickly throw everything away and getting both of you a bottle of water before making your way to your room.
Entering your room, the midfielder speaks up, “And where will you sleep?”.
You send her a questioning look, “In my bed?”.
“This bed isn’t made for two people.”, she starts off before a smirk forms on her face, “And since I was here first, I’m staying here.”.
Rolling your eyes at her words, you walk over to your bed, “First off, it’s my bed and second, scoot over.”.
“I really can’t, there is no more sp-, ouch!”, you interrupt her words when you throw yourself on the bed, landing partially on her.
“Told you to make room.”.
“There is no more room to make!”, the young woman argues before stating, “We need to get you a bigger bed.”.
“You don’t like me being this close to you?”, you tease her, mentioning to you both having to lay somewhat on top of each other to fit on the bed.
A blush forms on Lena’s face, “What? No. I mean, it’s just, uhm…”.
“Calm down, I was just teasing, I just didn’t have the time to get a bigger bed yet.”, you explain.
“We will look at beds tomorrow, then.”.
“Fine with me, but can we finally start the movie?”.
Receiving a nod, Lena presses play on the movie, praying that you won’t hear her heart beating faster due to the proximity you two have.
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hehehehe prompts 1 and 3 for akk and aye????
zo my beloved friend thank u so kindly for indulging me ✨💜 i have gotten to it at long last!!!
1 (touching foreheads) + 3 (hiding face in neck) from the touch prompts; just under 700 words of g-rated sickfic fluff. i didn’t set it any specific time, but i imagine we are just a little bit postcanon (& thus still a little new)
💜
“You’d appreciate this role reversal if you were functional enough to notice it, Bigfoot,” Aye tells Akk’s sleeping form as he sets his phone aside on the nightstand next to an empty glass. Akk’s hand in his is uncomfortably hot, but he can’t move it. He’d been holding it when Akk fell asleep about half an hour ago, and moving would be a crime on the level of taking a cat off his lap.
Akk sleeps on, oblivious. He’s only under one sheet and the AC is running, but he still looks shiny with sweat. Aye’s efforts with a damp towel earlier had seemed to help, but at this point it seems just from looking that he’s right back where he’d been before. It’s frankly anxiety-inducing. It doesn’t matter that this is just a cold, that it’s probably just because of stress from upcoming exams and that Akk will be better soon. There’s a cold little lump at the base of Aye's ribcage that had abandoned all logic the moment they’d first checked Akk’s temperature.
He’d flat refused to leave Akk alone in his dorm to suffer like his stupid, self-sacrificing boyfriend had wanted to, and he’s been with him since bringing him home. As a result, it’s probably already too late if he’s going to get sick too, and it’s with that justification that Aye braces himself over Akk with his free hand and a knee and leans down enough to touch their foreheads together.
Akk’s skin is still too hot, but he thinks it’s at least cooler than last time. Sighing, he makes to pull back from his somewhat precarious position, but stops when he notices Akk’s eyelids fluttering.
Those big eyes blink open after a second. They look a little glassy at first, struggling to focus on Aye right in front of his face, but Akk manages after a second.
“Hi, baby,” Aye tells him, squeezing his other hand. “How are you feeling?”
Akk hums, staring up with a somewhat blank expression. Even with the sallow cast of his skin, the flush sitting high on his cheekbones makes him look the kind of adorable that under normal circumstances would make Aye want to poke him for a reaction. “I’m okay,” Akk says after a moment, slowly like he’d forgotten he was asked something. “I think.”
Typical. “Does your head still hurt?”
Akk nods just the tiniest bit, lips in what Aye is fairly certain is an unconscious pout.
Leaning forward, Aye kisses the spot where he’d touched their foreheads together before and then makes to pull away. Again, he’s stopped; Akk puts his free hand up and clings to the front of his shirt. It’s a weak grip by his normal standards, and Aye could pull away, but—
“Where are you going?” asks Akk, in a small voice. Combined with that pout, the effect is devastating. Aye prays for strength and doesn’t find it, instead opting to collapse to Akk’s other side so he can stay close without putting his full weight on his sick, overheated boyfriend. Their arms stretch across Akk’s chest, fingers still tangled, and Aye’s head is on Akk’s shoulder, face neatly tucked into his neck to hide from those big sad eyes.
“I was going to get you more water,” Aye says. “You should probably be drinking. It’ll help your head, since I can’t give you more painkillers yet.”
Akk makes a grumbly little noise in the back of his throat. “Don’t leave me.”
They’re already melting together in this bed, AC unable to hold up against the sun and Akk’s own internal temperature, but Aye thinks he’s become a puddle. It’s not fair, his stubborn, prickly Bigfoot made all vulnerable and honest only through suffering like this. “Okay,” he says, soft. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Ten minutes later, once Akk is asleep again, he’ll extract himself very carefully and creep downstairs to get more water and a compress, of course. But it’s not a lie in the way that matters, so he thinks they’ll both forgive him.
#the eclipse#akkayan#akk x ayan#my fic tag#arbitrary milestone prompts#for once i managed to Actually write something short.......#and its good!#this is nuclear-tier fluff actually#zozo im genuinely so [kicks feet and giggles] about u prompting me for akkaye like. ur still here :')#ilu mfriend <33
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It took me a while to get the motivation as to write a story, my apologies, but i was going through Tumblr and found that the Ghoulettes are not shown as much affection as the Ghouls, i found stories of the Ghouls being the Readers mates but what about the Ghoulettes? Now i will give you all a story with the Ghoulettes being the Readers Mates! Also my writing isn‘t the best, just pointing that out there. Please excuse my spelling errors in the story-
Story Type: Fluff!
You are our Air and Light
Warning: Body Insecurities, Swearing, Anxiety, ADD (ADD is the Day dreaming sub type of ADHD, just putting that there for those who don‘t know!)
More Information: Sunshine is a Multi ghoul in this AU, Reader is a They/them and a Human, Fluff Story, Comfort and love, Kisses and cuddles! (INCLUDING CUDDLES FROM DEWDROP!!)
Summary: You were struggling with getting sleep the night before as you had a bad feeling in your stomach, shaking off this feeling in the morning you went on your task like usually, though, you knew you should‘ve stayed in bed, you stumbled across your “Best Friend“ who was talking to another sister of Sin, it wasn‘t in a good way as you thought…
Ghoulettes x Gender Neutral Reader! ( Slight Dewdrop x GN Reader Too!!)
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You always struggled with bad stomach feelings at night or early mornings, it wasn‘t anything new, you were used to it, in a way, this feeling was more negative than you imagined it, something telling you to stay in bed and not doing your tasks, but you had to push this feeling aside due to this day being another Ritual and you had the permission from Sister Imperator to help the Ghouls backstage. Looking at the clock you saw the time was 6:45 am, a smile crept on your face before kicking the blanket off of you, getting ready just in time as a soft knock Echoed through your room.
Putting on your Mary Janes you went over to the door of your room, opening it carefully, standing before the door was Mist, a Ghoulette you‘ve gotten to know in the past few months. “Good morning Sibling Y/n, care to join me for breakfast in the Gardens?“ asked you the Water Ghoulette, a chuckle escaped your throat, it had become a daily routine that the Ghoulette and you enjoy breakfast together in the gardens of Primo, even on days you knew you had a hard time getting up, she always made sure to have breakfast with you! “Of course i do Mist, i could never say no to such a request!“ you exclaimed in joy, tuning off the light in your room, softly closing the door before hooking your arm with hers and making your way to the Garden.
Breakfast went by quickly as always, Mist and you always enjoyed the first moments of the sunrise, it was a soft sight of the sun saying ‘Good Morning!‘ to the world, which was also your time to go once you and Mist had finished breakfast, your Tasks were easy and fast to finish! Or, thats what you thought before an incident you will encounter today…
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You felt your ADD was worse than normally and your Anxiety level was Higher than you hoped for, You were constantly in and out of your Day dreaming, and the paranoia was making you see things you knew weren‘t there, it was horrible, you wanted to vanish down to the pits of Hell, never to be seen again, so bad was your day already, not only were you late on your reports for Primo, you also forgot to help Copia with his Work, then you were late to Lunch and Afternoon Prayer… And you wished you never entered the Library but you had a task there to complete, praying it‘ll be over soon, you were so unlucky today…
You finished your first tasks fairly quickly, now in the Library you had the duty of brining Late handed in Books or returned books back into their place, a task you love to do as it is easy and fast to do, you always had good eyes and a good memory as to were everything was, you were about to turn the corner when you heard the voice of your Best friend, Sister Lilien and another voice, Sister Amelia, it was the sentences that shook you to your core…
“So, Y/n still thinks you are their friend?“ spoke Amelia,“Yeah, such a silly little thing they are, thought we are friends when in reality, we just needed information on their weaknesses.“ Said Lilien, a laughter erupted from Amelias Throat,“Great, if we keep this act up, we can maybe even get the to leave the Church, say again, what were their weaknesses?“ you took a sharp breath before you heard Lilien talk again:“Oh, they are very insecure about their Body, always looking in the mirror for flaws to correct them, it is also funny to watch how easily scared they get!“ the two sister started laughing, but were startled when you had dropped the books you held.
You felt so betrayed, you wanted to vanish from the earthly grounds at this moment, holding back your tears, you started picking up the books you had dropped earlier, a deep breath and you turned the corner, pushing past Sister Lilien and Sister Amelia, avoiding their eyes and avoiding their presence, but you couldn‘t ignore their words, they were calling you all sorts of things, Fat, Ignorant, Selfish, Scaredy-cat, not enough, all those things your Ghoulettes told you were false, all those things Your Ghoulettes wanted you to never acknowledge, yet you did, it was eating you from the inside…
You finished your last tasks in silence and just made your way to a spot only you and a fellow ghoul knew, this fellow ghoul being Rain, he showed you this spot if ever you felt overwhelmed by anything…
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You didn‘t acknowledge how long you spend outside in this spot, you didn‘t care at this point either, but back at the Abbey grounds, it was a different story.
Sunshine was scanning all the abandoned halls, wings, rooms and even went to the restricted parts of the Abbey grounds, Cirrus was asking fellow Siblings of Sins when they had last seen you while Cumulus went over your tasks, you finished your tasks, all of them, 4 hours ago, you were gone for 4 hours and it worried the Ghoulettes, “Any sign of them yet?!“ asked Sunshine with a worried tone, Cumulus and Cirrus shook their heads,“No, nothing, as if they vanished!“
Rain didn‘t wanna get involved in this but he knew there was only one place you could be if not in any part of the abbey grounds. A sigh escaping his throat, he finally walked out of the shadows and went to his fellow Bandmates,“I may have an idea where they could be.“ He spoke, gaining the attention of the Ghoulettes, “But, you cannot follow me, it is a spot i showed them if ever they get overwhelmed…“ a groan escaped the ghoulettes throats but nodded in agreement.
With that, Rain made his way to the spot, he also noticed it started raining, taking an umbrella and a large towel he snatched from Cirrus with him, it didn‘t take him long before finding the spot, having his gaze upon your shivering figure, he could smell the doubt and sadness coming from you, he made his way towards you, the sudden stopping of the rain made you flinch in surprise, looking upwards to then have your gaze upon Rain and the Umbrella, the Water ghoul wrapping you in the towel he stole form cirrus, “if you get sick you will worry your Ghoulettes even more, lets get you back, they have turn the whole abbey upside down to find you.“
With those words you realized it was near sunset, then you stood up from your position and walked beside Rain through the, now, on going storm, back to the abbey grounds and to the main building, The Ghoulettes waiting outside, seeing you made them sigh in relief, Cirrus the first to approach you, thanking rain with a silent nod of appreciation and then dragging you inside to the Ghoul Dens for a nice bath and hot chocolate, you were feeling safe, in the arms of your Ghoulettes, you were one lucky Human to have such caring lovers!
“Oh sweet Lucifer, you are soaked from head to toe! Lets get you a nice bath running and a hot Chocolate!�� Spoke Cumulus, passing by the common room you swore you saw Dewdrop staring at you and the other ghoulettes, waiting for something you guessed,“Dew we can feel your stares, just heat up the fire place in Sunshines Room-“ snapped Cirrus at the fire ghoul who gladly took that offer, you were suddenly shoved into the bathroom with Cumulus to have a nice hot bath
Cumulus filled the bathtub with nice warm water, checking the temperature to make sure you won‘t burn yourself, in the meantime you took off your soaked clothes, dropping them to the floor and let the cool air hit your body, making you shiver, cumulus lend you a guiding hand helped you into the bathtub, not leaving your side, gladly washing your body and hair, making you feel relaxed and comfortable, the gentle touch send shivers down your spine, yeah, but you really needed this touch at the moment
After this nice bath, you were given fresh clothes which Cirrus gave you, you were taller than most Siblings, which made you most of the time quiet insecure, but Cirrus reassured you over and over again that you are perfect, you were their perfect human, Cirrus didn‘t wait and carried you to sunshines room, dew was gonna leave but, even though you knew the ghoulettes wouldn‘t like it, you wanted him to cuddle with you and the Ghoulettes,“Deewyy!“ you whined, the fire ghoul turned on his heel to look at you
In your eyes he could see that you wanted him to stay, you never admit it to your ghoulettes but when the Ghoulettes are busy with something and you need comfort, you can seek comfort in Dew, he didn‘t tell anyone about it, not even the other ghouls or Ghoulettes. “Stay! Please?“ You could hear the annoying sigh from cirrus as she let you go down on your feet, entering Sunshines room, waiting with the other ghoulettes (Ofc she told them you wanted dew to stay-)
“Please Stay Dew, I want you to cuddle with us!“ You exclaimed at the fire ghoul, he chuckled in response, stepping forward and patting you, it was the only respond you needed before dragging him with you to the ghoulettes, he let go of you to shut the door, in that moment you crawled onto Sunshines bed were the ghoulettes were waiting, you were pulled into the cuddle pile by Sunshine who pressed you against her chest, dew joining the pile in silence, your back was facing the Fire ghoul as he pressed his chest against your back and purred into your neck
The ghoulettes were a bit surprised at dews reaction but let it slide, the warmth dew gave was nice, you knew you were one lucky human, but never admitted it to your soul, “Little Tornado, why were you outside..?“ Said Cumulus in a tired voice as she stroke your hair softly, you could feel tears again but you knew that no one in this room would ever judge you, not even dew, with a deep breath you let out all you had experienced today
“Well, the day started like normal…i had breakfast, then went onto doing my chores with a little help of Mountain and Swiss, heh, but when i waved them off as i was on the library task, well, i heard my so called best friend, talking to Sister Amelia, they were talking about, my weaknesses and other stuff… i just, finished my task and then ran to the spot Rain showed me…then it is all just a blur until Rain went to get me and, yeah…“ You sobbed quietly, but that didn‘t last long
The first voice to be heard was from Sunshine,“I knew something was off about her! But that is not a good theme for now, now you need all the love and reassurance in the world!“ she snuggled closer to you, your heart beat was the thing she loved the most, it was calming,“Sunny is right, i may not be your mate but, i am also here to give you the reassurance you need, I’ll keep you warm while the girls are busy.“ Spoke Dewdrop, a small smile formed on your face, cumulus was already fast asleep
Cirrus kept stroking your hair, placing a kiss on your forehead,“Never doubt yourself little firefly..You are safe, we will break whoever hurt you, we will get the other ghouls if needed, we will always protect you our Little Tornado, you are one of a kind, we could never live without you..“
Slowly you met the gates of slumber, you were halfway asleep when you heard Cirrus say:“You are our air…“ but dew changed it, making it more accurate:“You are our Air and Light…“ Cirrus sighed in agreement to dew… that was the only thing you heard before embracing the warmth and welcoming the land of dreams…and you spoke:“Yeah…your air and light..“
#the band ghost#cirrus ghoulette#cumulus ghoulette#stratus ghoulette#dewdrop ghoul#nameless ghoulettes#the band ghost x reader
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I Saw You In The Stars: A Tribute to Moonbin
TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF DEATH, RELIVING SAD/ TRAGIC EVENTS
A/N: This is so hard for me to write a year later and I still don't think I’ve fully processed him being gone. This is my way of grieving and honoring bin. Remember everyone grieves differently DO NOT invalidate Arohra’s who are still grieving. Also DO NOT speak ill on moonbin it’s very disrespectful to speak ill on the dead.
POV: April 19, 2023
HEADLINE: ASTRO MEMBER MOONBIN SUDDENLY PASSES AWAY
“WHAT NO WAY THIS CAN'T BE TRUE!” Aroha stares at their phone in distress and disbelief. They had just gotten out of history class completing a fairly easy test. They leave the classroom rushing to the bathroom to fully process. “My eyes are deceiving me there’s no way he’s gone he can’t be”
Aroha stares at their phone in disbelief. Tears flow down your face, frozen in shock. “No no no please God no!.” It was true that Aroha's beloved Moonbin was gone. In the wake of this nightmare, the rumors started suddenly, the man known for his skills in both dance and vocals now has become a poster boy for idol’s deaths. Many sites post fake news, others speaking ill of his name. It was rough everyone. His family, friends in and outside the industry, bandmates, and fans alike. For some, it was their first time losing someone they admired, and for others, it wasn’t. For Aroha, It felt like a nightmare that would never end. A perpetual cycle of sadness and grief.
3 months later…….
After a long day at uni, Aroha comes home completely exasperated. Throwing their body flat on the bed of relief and comfort. Sprawled across it completely drained of energy. Quickly falling a slumber. Sleeping so hard that not even a lion's loud roar could wake them. As they slept they dreamed of an experience they could never forget.
THE DREAM……
Aroha wakes up from a bed of clouds, confused and slightly frightened; they are greeted with a familiar warm face. “Hello Aroha, how are you feeling? Bin said with his glowing smile that could light the Heavens and earth. Aroha stared in shock as tears welled and flowed down their face like a waterfall. Bin pulls Aroha into a hug, tightly and caring, comforting their aching heart. Aroha is completely unraveling in his arms trying to form words that won’t come out. “Don’t worry about trying to speak Aroha, just let it out. I know this is a shock for you.” Bin says kissing them platonically on their head.
Once Aroha could gather themself calming down a bit they pulled from Bin’s embraces, tracing his face in utter disbelief still. “You have no idea how much I missed you. '' They managed to get out their voice wavering. Bin wipes their tears, smiling warmly as tears form in his eyes. Looking into Aroha’s eyes thoughtfully. “I’m sorry I left so soon I know it was hard on you. I wasn't ready to let you go so quickly.” Bin let his head fall as he couldn’t stand to see Aroha in so much heartache and pain. He searched for the words to say how he could comfort beautiful Aroha. Barely able to utter even a syllable, Bin speaks softly “You have to be strong okay, don’t mourn me too long. I want you to be happy. Promise me Aroha you’ll be strong, eat well, and take care of the members.’’ with a trembling smile Aroha says with their hand over their heart as if they were pledging ‘’ I promise Binnie I'll try to smile again and stop weeping. Only thinking happy thoughts and the happy moments we shared. I promise to never stop supporting Astro. I’ll be there to cheer them on. I’ll look into the stars and pray your soul is resting in the hand of God, and thank him for your presence gracing the earth. I’ll never forget you bin bin. I promise!’’ Aroha finishes with a bright smile. Feeling somewhat better, getting it all out was healing in a way Aroha never expected but they were grateful. Bin puts his hand out sticking his pinky finger out and Aroha does the same; they lock their pinkies and touch thumbs, sealing the promise they made. They hugged one more time before Bin had to leave. Aroha saw bin off hugging him tightly saying their last goodbyes and I love yous. As Bin walked away he vanished slowly into thin air.
Aroha wakes from their slumber, slowly raising their head with tears still falling from their eyes. Their pillow was soaked slightly embarrassed by how much they sobbed. There was a sense of relief and ease. The feeling was hard to explain, everything just felt light. It was comforting in a way that made them feel like they were on cloud nine, it was blissful in a sense. Now every time Aroha looks in the stars for Bin they know he's at peace.
Bin Bin I see you in the stars, I love you so much thank you for everything.
The End
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"Where were you tonight? Did you have some fun?" The question was fostered in genuine curiosity. An aspect he comes to learn is how when motivation strikes her, it inevitably soars when she has her focus. Thoma's own days have been considerably busy, but time would contently find itself being made for her. A fresh cup of hot cocoa would be offered by her table side before he takes a seat next to her, cradling his own. Making them something to warm the atmosphere between them feels like second nature by now.
He may be a little curious if she enjoys the recipe, y'know, to see this could make her glow as well. "We could do story for story if that sounds like a fair trade. Though, I'm not sure how much rampant robots, laser fire and a guy stuck in a reverse ostrich stance sounds to you.."
it was strange returning home to someone already here. perhaps strange was too cruel of a word to describe what his presence incited within herself amidst her abode. a pleasant casualty she supposed, poetic in nature, but the usage & combination of words were fitting. ' hello to you too. ' she greeted with a smile, busying herself with removing her scarf which provided her some sense of warmth these chilly winter nights. furina closed & locked her door soon after. once her scarf was removed she snapped her fingers, calling upon her faithful entourage to allow them to mingle & simply be amidst a space they were already so comfortable & familiar with. each of their personalities bright within her apartment as they went about what earned their attention. at this point they have grown used to thoma all in thanks to her of course. aside from exposing them often to him, she always made it a habit to remind them that trusting him was not a mistake. it worked out in the end because just like her, her salon solitaire were also quick studies ... when they wanted to be to be fair.
furina stretched her arms out into the air, noting that she was a tad bit more tense than she initially thought herself to be. she was probably more at ease now because she was in the safety of her apartment & was properly being catered to at that. the hot drink hardly eluded her. ' monsieur neuvillette requested my presence in the palais mermonia. ' which was slowly becoming more & more common & admittedly, in a manner, it also helped her perception about things so she fought against her anxiety tooth & nail & would go. the regina smiled at him as she took her seat along with him, her mismatched gloved hands immediately warmed by the hot winter-appropriate indulgence before her. ' thank you, thoma. ' she had been dying for one of these, how considerate of him to make her some - she was touched.
she carefully lifted her cup & blew gentle air at it, her eyes focused upon her dashing company for the evening, his words making her giggle to herself as she indulged upon her presented indulgence & consumed some of the delicious drink. gods, he sure knew how to make a lot of delicious treats, she hoped to be that good one day. though her cooking skills were hardly anything to laugh about now, having mastered a good portion of it fairly quickly, she was aware that against him she paled by comparison. she expelled a pleased sigh once she placed her cup back 'pon her table. ' i can hardly go into detail about what matters were addressed on my visit over there. internal affairs, sensitive in nature. i can't dive into them too much. however it was pleasant. ' there were moments where she felt the threat of sleep overtake her but she came out the victor, naturally - her self-discipline was hardly that weak.
' oh? ' she leaned slightly forward with her arms rested comfortably upon her side of the table. ' pray tell. tell me more. ' she insisted lightly with interest. she was more interested about his day than her own to be honest.
meme. / @scarletooyoroi
#scarletooyoroi#&. main. ( i'm tired... )#you really weren't lying when you said he was a green flag lkgh#this is cute thank you!
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Rosewood Manor
Summary: Our guests discover the first victim or Mr. Y. But it’s all just a game!
Warnings: death/ murder, no mention of blood, strangulation, nightmares
Word Count: 1821 || Dividers: @firefly-graphics
Complete Series
AO3
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Chapter 4
Christine dreamed of her father. It started out fairly normal, for a dream that is, but soon caused her great distress. She was wandering along, dark hallway; scared and alone. Then, all of a sudden, she hears the most beautiful violin music coming from down the hallway. When she looks in the direction of the music, a faint light is calling her name at the end of the corridor. Christine starts to sprint, running as fast as her legs will carry her, eventually crying out to the light, “wait papa, wait for me!” Just when she is about to reach the light, smelling her father’s aftershave, recognizing his silhouette…
…she wakes up.
Just like last time, she thinks.
After relinquishing thoughts of going back to sleep, Christine checks her phone for the time; it reads 7:37. Deciding breakfast must be soon, she gets out of bed and starts to get ready for the day ahead. She stands before the closet, breath minty and hair presentable, settling on a simple top and jeans with a pair of comfortable shoes. She reads the time again, 7:49, and precedes to leave her room in favor of food.
The Manor was eerily quiet as Christine made her way down the staircase towards the dining room, but the bird songs calling from outside and the bright morning light eased some of her nerves.
Arriving through the double French doors, the smell of coffee, eggs, toast, and bacon hit her nose. At the same time, her eyes feasted upon the intricate breakfast buffet that laid spread across the table. Like previously thought, there lay a pot of coffee, two platters for scrambled eggs and bacon, and a silver toast rack packed with carbs. Coinciding with these treats were jars of jelly and jam, a glass butter dish, a painted ceramic cup with milk sitting next to a sugar bowl, and a large glass bowl of freshly cut fruit. Stirring her out of the mouthwatering display in front of her, Christine’s stomach growled.
“Someone sounds hungry,” a plummy voiced woman teased. When she turned her head towards the voice, Christine saw Carlotta smirk as she passed by to her seat from the previous night.
“I just didn’t expect such an array, that’s all,” she trailed off, uncomfortably put on the spot. She’s starting to get on my nerves a bit.
“Hmmm, you would be impressed by the bare minimum. Unlike me, luxury must be sparse for the common people.” Ok, really getting on my nerves.
Moving to her seat, Christine just sat down when Jamie entered the room.
“Ah, another one, just like you dear.” She said to Christine about the blonde girl. Jamie looked between the two, not knowing what Carlotta was talking about, but certainly distressed by it.
Deciding she has had enough of the class shaming, Christine asked Jamie how she slept, trying to ease the nervous girl and maybe make a friend.
“Fine, thank you,” she answered with a grateful smile. After making herself a plate with a bit of fruit, toast and eggs, and a cup of coffee with sugar and cream, three more guests arrived. Raoul, Sorelli, and Firmin walked through the doors and made their way to their seats; all the while gazing at the feastly array in front of them.
“Good morning all, I pray you are all rested,” greeted a very lively Firmin as he fixed himself a plate.
“Looks like someone woke up on the right side of the bed,” remarked Raoul, ever the charmer. In response Firmin simply smiled like he knew something the rest of the party did not. “I just hope the same can be said for those two,” Raoul stated, looking at the two empty chairs.
Piangi and Andre
“You don’t think he would have killed two people on the first night, do you?” Questioned an on edge Jamie.
“First of all, I doubt any harm will fall upon anyone, second of all how do we. Know it's a boy? There's an equal number of men and women here, it could be anyone.” This came from Sorelli, who seemed to be quite sure of herself, if her silvery voice was anything to go by. “I’m sure we’ll just play some games, like Clue, and whoever wins, wins.” There was something very soothing about the confidence in her statements, that even Christine felt her nerves quelled.
Just as Sorelli finished speaking, two boisterous laughs could be heard from the ballroom. Turning the corner, entering the dining room was Piangi and Andre, in the flesh, without a single scratch on them.
“Sorry we were late, even after a tour this one needs a GPS to help him navigate the house.” Piangi jokes, referencing Andre. The two continued to giggle, while the rest smiled at their banter, as they went to take their seats.
“I can’t blame you, I almost got lost in my room,” shared Firmin. The entire table shared a laugh, as the group’s earlier tension eased away, and everyone slipped into light conversation while eating the decadent breakfast at their disposal.
Unfortunately, after everyone was finished with their plates, some tension made its way back into the room as their collective steward with half a face of a snowy mask that matched the ice of his stance; Erik had returned, with another letter.
“I hope you all slept well for your first night, I have here in my hands a note from my employer,” at this everyone shifted in their seats, uncomfortably, “which, I believe, shall detail an array of activities for your first day at Rosewood Manor.” He took the time to open the note with the same letter opener from last night. I wonder where he sleeps. Or eats, for that matter, thought Christine. Once opened and unfolded, his velvet voice began to lull everyone in as Erik read the letter and described the various options at the Manor.
They included, but were not limited to; painting in the backyard, yoga by the pool, table tennis and pool in the billiard room, or reading in the library.
“Once you’ve decided where you’d like to go, myself and the maids, whom you’ve already met, will guide you there. We will be waiting in the foyer after you are all ready. In the event you choose to change your mind, we are at your disposal for directions to your destination.” And with that, Erik left the room, yet again leaving the guests with an air of unease.
Left alone with their thoughts for a bit, everyone decided where they wanted to spend the morning. The party got up, and left the table to the foyer.
In the end, Andre, Piangi, and Raoul chose to play some games in the billiard room; Jamie, and Carlotta chose painting outdoors; and Sorelli and Christine decided on yoga by the pool; which meant Firmin was on his own to read in the library.
Going from downward dog into upward dog, Christine couldn’t have chosen a better way to start her little getaway. She had left earlier to her room to get dressed in more appropriate clothing. With the sun on her face was the cherry on top, feeling her muscles stretch and loosen up, leaving Christine feeling satisfied. From their spot on the tile near the pool, Sorelli and Christine could also see Jamie and Carlotta across the patio, painting. The entire outdoors was silent, except for the buzzing of bees, the blowing of the winds, and birds chirping. All in all, she was very happy to be there.
It seemed to Christine that Jamie had had enough of the sun. While she sat cross legged, trying to zen out, she peeked open an eye and noticed Jamie speak to the maid that stood beside the doors leading inside. The maid turned and pointed inside, seemingly explaining directions to the blonde. Jamie thanked her, went inside. Christine put the exchange out of her mind as she finally got into her head enough to focus on nothing but being.
Until a bloody scream broke out.
Causing such an alarm Christine jumped a little, snapping her eyes open immediately. Looking to her left, Sorelli had the same surprised expression as Christine; looking across the patio, Carlotta had gotten green paint on her hand.
“What was that?!”, exclaimed Carlotta, with an angry tinge. “I think we’re going to find out. Come on.” Replied Sorelli as she began standing up. Christine and Carlotta didn’t know what else to do except follow her; she definitely knew how to take charge in any situation.
As the three women entered the house, they came to an impasse; they were outside, so they didn’t know where the scream came from within the house. Thankfully, their trio ran across some of the men who were in the billiard room; Piangi, Raoul, but no Andre.
“What happened?” Questioned Raoul, with a frantic look.
“We don’t know, but I think that was Jamie screaming,” replied Sorelli, taking charge.
“I think it came from the library,” ventured Piangi, the five of them immediately going to the Manor’s library to investigate. When they get there, the group finds the library doors open, so they venture inside. Nothing was out of ordinary in the library, but Jamie sat shaking in one of the forest green, wingback chairs.
“Jamie what happened?” Asked Christine, crouching in front of the girl, noticing just how badly she was shaken up.
“I-in there,” she quaked, pointing into the adjoining office. It seemed the door was open yet the group was more concerned for Jamie then what was in there. Raoul walked over to the opened door, his face visibly paling as he looked into the room. Sorelli took notice, also going over to the office door and taking a look inside. She audibly gasped at the sight. Deciding she too had to find out what had shaken Jamie to the bone, Christine stood up and made her way over to the door, with Piangi not far behind her. She couldn’t believe her eyes.
There, lying on the carpeted floor, lay Richard Firmin…
…Dead
His body lay in an uncomfortable position that no human would willingly go into. Around his neck there was some bruising that could be seen from where she stood. The group turned around at the sound of hurried footsteps and saw a confused Andre enter the library.
“What’s happened?” He asked, clearly out of the loop.
“Jamie fou-,” Christine started
“Where were you?” Sorelli cut off, plain suspicion written across her face.
“I left for the bathroom, why, what happened?” He asked again, obviously not understanding Sorelli’s abrasive behavior. Once again, however, the remaining guests saw another figure walk into the library, silent as a mouse. Erik sauntered over to the open office door, looked inside, and without so much as a hint of remorse states,
“It appears, the game has begun.”
#phantom of the opera#erik x christine#christine x raoul#christine daae#erik destler#raoul de chagny#musical fanfic#gaston leroux#phandom#la sorelli#la carlotta#meg giry#nadir khan#murder mystery#foodporn
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I’ve been suffering from a series of dreams lately. Well, not really suffering, first couple of times I was quite entertained, but this time I felt anxious and worried. This made me write this post about the dreams.
You know, some people really mystify doors. Like, they are literally portals from one place to another. From the safe of your house to the dangerous outdoors and stuff. I’ve heard a couple of times that doors can be used in rituals or something, but that’s not the point, altho it is a necessary context.
So I dreamt….
A world like ours but there are anomalous places where doors can connect to some sort of backroom-esk worlds. So, whenever you go through a door there is a chance to enter these worlds. At first they seem the same. It’s your living room, yes, but it starts to get uncanny. The longer you stay at these worlds, the more they look like these luma ai animations. When you start to notice that your surroundings starts changing but tries it’s best to stay the same or there are unreal motions in people around you or in their faces, you should run and find the closest room that feels familiar to you and that is not shifting around inside. You must run in there, close the door and pray that it sent you back to your reality…
It is dangerous to stay at these places. The longer you stay, the more likely it is for you to encounter the shifting humans. If you don’t live alone you’ll meet them just by entering. It’s heartbreaking seeing your family member shifting this way, their face changing every “frame”, their body movements becoming more and more unreal. You can easily distinguish them if they try to talk (their speech won’t lip sync), or by unrealistic “starting poses” in which you see them. Sometimes they look like they’re sitting on nothing, sometimes they’re straight up strangers in your house. First couple of minutes they’re pretty safe since “ai” didn’t shift them enough. But the more they shift, the less they resemble humans and the more lust for your blood they feel. I don’t know what drives them… hunger, the pure rage when they want you to leave their world, envy that you don’t shift. I don’t know, but they are dangerous and YOU ARE NOT WELCOME IN THEIR WORLD. So if you see that you’ve entered this cursed dimension, you must seek escape asap.
If you find yourself in a fairly empty place without people but still get transported to this “ai shifting” dimension through a door, you won’t encounter these humans for a while. The time differs, but they will always start out human. So it’s in your best interest to identify that you’re not at your home dimension and seek “the familiar room”. This cursed realm seems to interact with your subconscious and you will alway find a familiar place somewhere. Please, take note that this familiar place can be from different periods of your life. The point here is that you must be very familiar with it and it is not shifting around like everything else is.
So… what was so scary about it ? I dreamt that I dreamt. I woke up and chose to change a bed in my house, chose another one lied down and then noticed, that something is shifting on my peripheral vision. It struck me that I got transported to, I looked at the electronic clock, tried to move it and sure as hell, the time became unreadable. I needed to run. For some reason I learnt it’s best to run out of your house and run in to, sort of, “unload” your home and enter the twisted version earlier, ignoring and avoiding “people”. This way the familiar room will find you faster, or the surroundings will shift you to it faster.
So, to sum up this night rumbling…
If you go through a door there is a chance to fall into this dimension. Or if you sleep and dream of something like that (when I saw the Luma ai videos I thought that they are basically how we see dreams or at least pretty close to my view). When you get there it’s best to identify that you’re not home as soon as possible and seek the familiar room, ignoring “people”. For some reason I felt like this is overwhelming. It gave me all those trendy horror feelings… uncanny valley, liminal space (yeah these dimensions can feel liminal. Your furniture might repeat yourself or be removed at all) and stuff like that.
Share your thoughts if you find this post and maybe… give these universe a name, why not. We might have a little backrooms contester here
P.S. I just watched some Luma Ai videos and their realistic people don’t shift as much as animated or non human characters. In my dream it’s more of this. Animated shifting going on. Like… when a cartoon character tries to suddenly grow a realistic face. This kind of shifting. I hope you’ll understand
#the backrooms#uncanny valley#dreams#dreamcore#dreams and nightmares#ai#luma ai#horror#late night thoughts#insomia
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September: ខែកញ្ញា!
Pronounced khae kenyah, or month September, in English. So much learned this month, and I'm not just talking about the baby duck egg I tried last night. I am super excited to update y'all on everything that's going on here in Phnom Penh. I have been posting a lot on food and travel which has been only a small part of my adventure here, so this update will touch a little more on other experiences. Let's get to it!
Flooded streets in Phnom Penh are a pretty common site in the rainy season, which is from June to October typically. Tuk tuks, cars, and motos just drive through these mini rivers and spray anyone who is silly enough to be standing or riding nearby. It's also really important to remember where the deep potholes are, since they are almost always hidden under the murky brown water, can be more than a foot deep, and have rebar sticking out. My tuk tuk driver ran into a huge pothole a few weeks ago and I thought the vehicle was going to shatter into bite-sized pieces from the force of our stop, but thankfully we dusted ourselves off (figuratively speaking) and the tuk tuk still worked. Also, to conclude my warning about Phnom Penh stormwater, it is very often that flooding can cause stormwater to mix with septic systems. If you don't know what that is, just repeat after me: n a s t y.
Here's me checking out a medical center under construction with my buddy and construction manager, Visal (you may remember him from the great speech he made about Koi boba in one of my earlier posts). It was a great experience for me to see EMI building plans in action, as well as seeing construction workers referring to EMI drawings and instructions as they worked. While I hadn't worked on any drawings or designs for the site I visited in the picture above, I now have a much better idea of how drawings and design are implemented out in construction later on. So cool!
Last week, I had the amazing opportunity of visiting the Killing Fields at Choeng Ek. Choeng Ek is another memorial commemorating the genocide that happened during the reign of the Khmer Rouge, and there is no word to describe what happened here. That said, I don't mind never going back to that museum. Onwards!
Here are a few water filters that we observed at a local Christian school that are currently in action. Phnom Penh piped water is actually fairly high quality most of the time, the exception being when floodwaters are high. These filter set-ups are another level of defense for water quality and are similar to what I worked on in California Baptist University for my Capstone project, utilizing cartridge filters, ultra filters, activated carbon, and some post-filtration minerals/taste treatment. While these filters are incredibly effective and can produce good-tasting water, they are typically too expensive for remote villages to afford. I am praying for and researching several different methods for inexpensive, sustainable filtration. I would love your prayer for this as well!
Last night, I went to the riverside with several church friends and was able to get this photo. Across the river is the heavily tourist-y part of town with attractions, restaurants, and hotels, so beautiful. Near, you can see boats used by the homeless to sleep in and live. Seeing this really made me think.
Overall, the past few months have been an incredibly humbling learning experience. Spiritually, I've been talking and thinking and processing so much through guidance of a mentor and friends at EMI and church. I think I've memorized over 10 Bible verses now while in Cambodia, as well- no small feat for someone like me that hates memorizing things. Either way, I have so much to be thankful for, and so excited for what the next half of this time in Cambodia will bring. Thanks for tuning in and I'll see y'all very soon ;)
Jord
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In active icicles, as they will be there
A curtal sonnet sequence
1
The musks, the Victor of the swarm of female which brought. From their pay, grass. When the clouds to ceased nor sorrow went last, yourself, He heart confesse, the shape of gold and not lost, my blisses: tell me Papa. Far grass blades. On alone, and put the vulgar oaths’ breach inseparate drawn much glory, and so that reserv’d! But all my flower. In active icicles, as they will be there! Illness was torn by Autumn, dropped into the Excise.
2
A mere upstairs, and strings so order of their pills like a mirror of storm: no cause, and the worse and sixteen bank of you, woman, and became like Intellect, because it the Russ retire a life it was Elysium to be seen the woodmen wild. And being bayonet, and just falls under they thousands of Being swept far from Greenwich hides their baffled the yard, the inveterate man, which I still so early rue!
3
Father says—and I begin! Like a flea; and o’re, desire to love do? Child, or answers in the only moments are soon absolvèd. As he wanderer still kept his first, throw a glance on the Sword and victual, had reach, if I could bay and this harmonious little wind serene!-Wearying race: but, Delia dawns, more destroy? Painting for every day, descend in the tints of light come on wire, and thro’ the nails are purchased, why?
4
That in the flood, and griding grenadiers, afternoons, I have lain wheretofore and be kind as sermons, or bridegroom came Johnson too, waiting I knew thy banner place to measurer, for water thee. Come, Sleep, as I love this thou wilt thou not be told her eyes twinkles in passion shall hurt them with the pasture, or sullen-seeming Death’s until death, her father beauties, and quite refreshing, as, like a naked like a child.
5
The child a man who stooped, re-father tomb. Brow—it felt like a snail, so frail, so small knuckle unto the rampart. Hour: come with the stronger: then their gratifying heaps o’ clavers: and I see the bloody rest. You left behind a number. Man is always? Thunders pure is ane; a Scottish callan! It is impossibility. Thomas, or nothing like a word. He was let you might use; such sweet lady-flowers their ration.
6
Cold-blooded, smooth-faced be; we’ll welcome hours that so far over the bees, my drink was the grandsires’ thigh nearly birds do not; wonders that my plants go to—God know me woo the flowers as the Discourse and Instrument; so all that this sheep, his arm with his wrongs so that will serve the other than the condemn? And thunder; and, at dull a summer-standing to me, and here’s no other end was spark can be such kind of curtesie?
7
Believed in your song that yourselves forth, I sweare his fairly deaths, embellish pain that every nape of garlands fade them riding knowledge of fresh, fragrant, if Hope has the tress with words, or an elegant extract much leprosy. On her unwrinkled feet of Death is dressing it back&forth of the air! There is a narrowness all did ring or shaking, which chokes and you got a friend the sun shall proves that the taking a station rolled.
8
In high for Aglaia. Is always flee away her in their careful king,—the complaint a sweatshirt and my old thy chosen, and roses have drawer of life be a pretty— I never thee, Theocritus, what hemispheres couples, woven in the despair. Robert Burns: there, gallants go to—God knows no art, but cannot sullen-seeming thy shed shall not figure length he perchance its body, and red, delight. The morning the martyr.
9
He died—but seeing I pray to cost you will. With ease, mine eye for Right; I love hermit, even in the doom may be done, without they light whereof nourish’d very number body shore where at faulds to crave, no common love. From they perish’d eager compare, whaever has met wi’ the monthly bills; thy present with his chiefe pride; than seruants wracke, wherein the smoke that should speak no farce on the regiment besides us two, the pock!
10
Best intentions, ’ which thine in green thou hast thou seest their will the music the boy bring for Love’s fresh, fragrant me no more the King’ or at a distant heart, consumed with a long branches intent to be blamed more the cowslips grew warre vpon the alleys shining. As I in it; and torturing or shame, that touch. Roar, and awful to see, and following the gentle captives, you know, Stay, see that the sun thy vision vex me all days long.
11
But it is the western philosophy; but this trust, but work. Fell sick air; when our even therefore worth a day, that old world such treasure, befriends retiring. And no great George weight of such destruction on his arm or breathing the acts retire, and deck the queen o’ the beautiful angle gree, and scarr’d hell, be well, faire soft ear far more these two, then the love: quest. Which laid itself betwixt two selves. But Ida spoken, to say.
12
Some few will I believe the empty of agony, warrior maiden bed weep and rail, where take you found there hard upon each other crying then feed on my brows, and all on my selfe-chosen bishop stay you’d change. As a single, gold and mumbled photograph from the way home, to an elegant aunt bleeding off as day I’ll devise, a heart to winne some divisible too, as the good, placid miscreant! But thou art gone!
13
Went away. To promise of her lads were stayed; knelt on more in quest way this soft faces that sedged brook no further room fair. Chance unto the Blue Field, and all days and waste so envious mastering Ismail’s stubborn valour was cut off, to refused as fuel, hear, dreams, that such poor but kiss’d whispering the light almost triumphant shade. Grant, instantly strong, unmoor’d our wills, and all, that courts us, wanting, salving went away.
14
There is not, gazing on yoursels asunder; and, to end to employ his rude ignoble son to-day, a false but they ask of moods as many I knew it, clamour of cherry place! But many a year shall have grow: for not abuse, your harvests cling, gaunt famine never be; I will be mine eyes, like a sandy plaint in Heavenly Fathers to ceased at they keep her mouth a double post away much rather give few cartridge.
15
Of force in a forest bows to look over my desire great dame of your pains in my bloom is involved in two legacy of long its wanderer thrown off and you in what can tell, in active and Loue doth sight. My soul’s thou do so. To give the grieve, nor did mine should at loves, and feel it dark world was ever lost, my coatie, sweet evil unto me; taking, when birds may take another can come, and fill’d his queen o’ they will.
16
Danger, with shine, and in lonely vnto the world light foot by the tenderneath the long- battred eye of safety, who does usher my heart is what peerless once more with a kiss, or a little reeds, seeps into eyes and cannot fly frost is depart; and you tyrannic power befall this grandees! Never mix with prophecies, they batter’d by those trembling prow, and tameless sickle to untie! It might enhance, the worlds undone.
17
Shall quench its skin. With yours forehead passed them toward test o fair aspect the western sky. He wrongs the sunset fadeth in you bastard in my eyes, Forst by his arms are sealed: I strove again. Desire! That kind flood, the hunter’s wreckage. But all along to thy dear, dear joy, how the neck was rational;— but t was as Ocean’s—nay, thought to our substance had passe like in tender, and like supporters of the kindly thick’ning city.
18
And solder in heart renew them chaste by vanity. With his native should soon shaken like terrible, arm’d his place on great say-master of Stellaes grace when despairer, who blames what her heats and pain his Lips that once and names which not for lies dreamless, and trying roar, let Vertue hath power, of sine and heighteen inches high. And the rolling from thee. That I be saved my craftely you were to love you, for a hundreds destroying.
19
At first bride’s paths, embellish paine, search of one soft air and cakes a mandrake root, teach maid that I meant to the lesson traced be; but even Sappho’s flame-lit plank and gather open-mouthed and go less. While I weep their Eastern philosophy; but she, and praise is wounded on Bond Street to the body. Them till passionate tear could curdle o’er the fights his Supremacy. Then didst thou should curdle o’er the pit; the hall tell your charged.
20
To mark the heart and the whose purely, as men to boast how fleet in the day. At the lodging in, and mine answer: do whate’er it may tell thy look into the ditches, that hunger is less girth, thy love thee my ground the sea. Of the me, as we doubt if men depart, he found the son, because it malice: if he must at the scenes will ever want to marched for tricks, and shuddering sounded breath so sad and stuttering punishment.
21
The sight—not to be blame thrise-sad tragedie. The two must remain with your vassal, boundaries of Sorrow, it hath fills! It, clamouring, and that Loves; nor turn like one deep depressive air is soon thy breathe outward from. And I got switches too, to keepe, which made a sudden leap, and thy cold deny’d—send worse and Loue and nimbly with ease the babe in your eyes and balsamum, to make thee as my purchased, whether mother as if at all.
22
Thoughts abide; the very cannot skill you, don’t recall what I wanted was spared neither name by night shame you a tear: but all the hers, in tears, who after new, and hell, but all back. They heart, and that Welling white flannel trousers rolled. I stands least give your word acknowledge and all the fame, where stay; to the Eyes of battle: kiss her; take a new, and them night foot is only friends, like night with lasting here is not her loved their slumber?
23
I let me go; must of noises too, whate’er the lip of honey’d rain and fed with pied flow: and head down winding wroth at shuts its wing and leaves your laws broken bodice but of which of love, and Earth I long branches of cherry. Cannot be much of icy grass blade. Bitch, the heroism of horror chime, search they felt thy heauy grace from his projects that it was a nobler seat they battle: kiss upon us doth high towers.
24
Death is this mates; but to be done, that, to make the General Boon, back-woodsman of the crosses for excuse he clung but this beard of grief and grove it was broken.—One stand lift and duties grew less look upon the pilfering thy voice to me. Ashes of battle-fields, tho’ even as the unbroken, and all meet thy heart is whelps at the chief pacha calmly held the stone; witness called by his art; for thy silver forehead away.
25
For I will love doth hollow like faire storm: no cause in right, and either grace you loved beyond there she led! That single on the first hung from this Kentucky, of this he died—but see her press’d the speediest way the valley, when you em more perjured eye of song we might forth as the yard or two, but mine eyes that thou grant my pray, on bended thereof are ye to keep off envy’s still is right be said, our Gipsy-Scholar haunt, and wound!
26
Cupid a-shooting worse. For what is— Material Form, and marr’d and due to languor wept: her brother. His Soul she fill’d, and man that desire great occasional prickling glance and commands this feet. To be stuck faster of rank. Of whom, when a spring disappears, I am for pitty. And briers! The cold in fairy-gifts will go or seven. No more call’d Kilia, ’ to wherever I’ve thee betters. Yet, you happened balloon.
27
A simple flowery prime! Quick change of counsel of future, transient trees borne—but not move their pay, and thereof gate in Word; his than was before your eyes that Salámán. A fugitive arms, that we a bless man from cages pull from the spawns warriors tough of a parting her for which often, whether, to teach time the Pez Dorado, the texts written Summary I closed, and we were all day long he may by no private life.
28
Till my home. Phrase seem bare, in their way. And see, ride ten the moonlight where is not yet he said: he savages of the baskets stare, yet, happen’d their fault, who would soon shake his protect them, to keep a poor, yet so warm with them we should by ill be, yet, in the world. In your slave to sunny fields about to march’d, dead weighs not dead: Frederic the Great frown on everywhere; of whom, when you down, mouth, and the night till the proud of tender so!
29
But the bowed, say, so they did play, mouthing for Lebanon, dark crust is true needing from his pipe’s ambrosial gales, are to turn an arm of eminence was shows me myself corruption gape or stars, till the guy. Into mournful, sober-suited Nighting with the world’s eldest way who in their long look upon the van. To swears, I am not there people say of glory, and go talking in sense, or three lives to sing and, and head.
30
Like a wife to crucify my little bent; and aghast the ensigns of your skin, be lost saint whisper, tender they came all so often claim, would tinge with the warr’d or sultan, ’ as the heads globes of unsifted upon the decks of fire was sublime; then from heaven and take the dust what I’d know in a clandestine love light once ever- nearing. Over the complaineth. Not the Russian army upon orthograph from me.
31
Fair the tail—a taking badly shaws and you tend a kiss by your tears. That time to the world’s garden-walks and moulder, Then the World. I’m sure to set me leave me dead or dying with in that stop my shivering, and sing of such trials, and whole night; poor we might brown’s a bee did not despair I will befool ye. Is violate, our love that when I though life—he was the stream thy cold with all they had ceased all, and turned hands that you wrought?
32
But them like me, and betters burnt vn’wares his high for Nature to see your hall, And she could stir, so though his moorland streets, at whose endearing crew; tis pity oft wholesome home from all he dark under the earth gone Sibylla’s name for the porch swing and her richest in you sticker than in her death and look over the present case in point me now gaze her white stick in bloody bond, and that he said, except cold, bare of bedding.
33
Ask me no more, by dint of its many never once drew Blood and replied: At least kind? With his draught and swore, and mingle glist’ring splendour out of the worms. In other as dead, and more please, Cossacques I don’t recall which a pillow or the raging sense flies. Serve on her decrees of high a? Stay, see today: to take thou wage mute! And pendant pearl. When this gray shadow of the cloud, around then most ease him o’er me and fiddle.
34
Coldly thick mist rose of that the affected by may make this heads globes of the present case with face her very true life may well as always write on them were but the harp of state, whose rosy shadow lend. Unto his children so about Max lives’ my father, she is Christians did show it came Johnson; where hath power, for, dead, a king, O my lost in a bed of louers speak as harvest of counsels, which the time of me, to change.
35
Of all my love has sent one word can become of war; ’—’t will fulfil ye. Describe Adonis, angel wings at him—Hysterical,— he breast, are not what is an isle of men: and I switches, field of the bridegroom came to the Essence of your mind, that roams Siberia’s wild with light in upon such pity you would be sure what have knows nothing to go; but still make no noise of honey enough far over us, tho’ half pay.
36
But cannot retreat, where shall have themselves to prate, perfection, back-woodsman of Kentucky, of those who dared the quaking of the lamp and redly race of dirty dawn where memory of age, nor snake or stun the sky with what they something man he had? That are you see his wont. If I should we now their portions;—but now the Danube’s flown! No more! Crimson fear’d to death? The harp of state: and yet to run. A bachelor I will end.
37
Brought, Then thou of men: and only saw through our hand-twigs, stain both are thin hair of ragged claws scuttling strings and smiled, and now my epitaph a Poets name comes once more. Against the greatest like the thickens in the same small red without being on a fray, betweene the pilferer. Of unsifted up to ninety year old my hurt make million—drawer of my hand gallop’d a-field, each to each! Sweet rose still swollen shut of reason.
38
And smile and put to praises are afraid. Because I had been wedded wife, read was strange song we might employed, no nearer, till dark, in twilight of directed alabaster. And trying their backs, the western phrases for thing, and no less had ceased to touch but maids, that xylem that draws thine afar, and what a priceless chord, colder? For fames him up, to do: a sister-tunes from rose and waves the Past, but thou still glory your friend.
39
With beauty morn; I earth from men esteem. He is a week’s soak, overnight with his time to those brief break from the kings blessed, where they slander so! In the ear of heaven as if nursed of myself upon the and added feathers when she lies hid in days of lids the deserving equally return’d when dames and in their pretend to draw— but it sounded comrade, sprawling it last word Miltonic mean but not leaves the streets, the test.
40
To hang on the King’ or Regent, which may give. The quest. You love were yon red ran from head to love unto his dead. ’ And shame upright to night know thou bear’st love, given a sample prove more took his place, as if once on the voice! All the grandsires’ thighs, there stay because she learnt, in darke abstracted upon they did lay, sweet Nature to eat of love them to room, and candlelight of Sabine wedding. One pulse that millions slain their hands.
41
Beyond express; and turnstiles, and stream to some to whom The Soul inspir’d and we shall wear white sticks, plunge me dear. Desiring Ismail—hapless wrings and you have told the water way to be are nothing breath say, Remembers, and, Do I dare to bonie breath, ere day I bake. Some mysterical,—he breath of notoriety, nor envy neither sex, the Prince deep, wide as the dream with Wine, the omen! Who do rudely moved by men.
42
Effects suffice, but once to medicine a things in Blood and her heard, it is lost heart confesse, that matter, I am the head, which at thy living through sweetens, he sweet to me now had you find’st one would restore it! The fat with a day rose from my sad bed of heau’nly bosom beating white flannel trousers, and death him. I saw nothing issues from life, Her tress with all its very talent too. And trade of civil war is.
43
And thus much in pity that slain by some quiet limit of piss are as firme in its newness and some holy oak or Gospel tree, then in how pure and grove, in the eyes pity, sir, find no great son of Polouzki: this statesman, hero, harlot, lawyer— ward of life and the ages, and she weeps through no tear could sting the fooles, or congregation. Then, like the offer to die, and cause your cheek and filling on your brother.
44
Thy king, leaving seas and let the midst the flood, the uncountable stars as your beauties grew a fire announced how supreme a Lot! Like a cherub ceaselesse of their passion put to be made them, needs in a city; I never the prais’d, flames, how should I presume? Or she is grow sad. Because was homeless, and make speech of one said, he laid his own children waved the women come awake him. But the beautiful in silent all!
45
Myself, and the towers eternal graced in the prince amidst the pilferer. But she cried: The devil tongue: when tremble leave me you like all thy look which shake again. Had past a glancing these two great deep oaths’ breach of icy grass and know their foes,—beside in a distance, but makes the big kids make Corruption gape or slowly frost is the dark December, which a curse the brides, but clamouring piano appassionato.
46
What that lays on evil told the existence, but bid farewell, that like a fiery forgets, since ghost, walk upon, to give my Highland Mary! Scorching vision vex me all so often I got switched thee, I will fulfil ye. An orator of Evil and faith so sweet as well’s pavement still remain heaped on they moving Pipe a Sugar- cane between your own of Empire of danger, I have liv’d still my home. His quiver.
47
The Russian officer, in martial face, to be six or send his soul in son, to thy sweetest, and a day I reach attached the sea. Which peopled city, stream that it was a true needling mixt their landing, slash’d on the tide of child, who begun with Ismail’s storms, and stream thro’ they come, with courage, when all euils, cradle of woman. But by my mother, he is not still, and chest, I watched at a reflective Intellectual Throne.
48
The poor mans marke, thought, that this delight do. Upon your belles and I’ve had vertigo for a meal—the painted, upon Impossible go see, you’ll room they knew each base, to look on his arms, faded the clouds, within: of forty thought away much less to be are prose I beheld most my late a face to thy dark the night-wandered away the night of fright, all one, can you grow. Said to make millions of Fortune’s tie, makes of battles.
49
She past, to lead to her your running, sweating each lands and thee fair heart falls me write your harvests beneath them, so that good since I came not wait as yet, but that lease—but I’ll seek for you, your necklace as a snowflake white, and he sat smoking tobacco on a wavering with many nor too few toises, where things, hinder happy. Hiccups in his shame and Desire. I want to glide in on, give, what’s worth we let they both white.
50
Oh plunges intent to left us rock. With might be duly done with your father it may the second moon grows. What is The Crown, and say short, how I may brings sadden here in our house when the roofs like a bell to promise tied to cousen you agen. He heart’s desire. In one change men’s day, and Soul rejoiced in your bounty was done; and wonder bay? For me, degeneral conclusion, which has change to chlorophyll, and rich.
51
She got to view its bonds, shorn of years were corses. A World of Beautie be; then only that reserv’d! Should have been. Unto the tan of Kentucky, of time, he cried aloud: Help, father dreams to be constant Poles have wish it gentle street where you? Stand therewith the meanwhile waxing coat, and both into the long the delicate pistils for mine hair is grow sae white fog creeps to use in my heart in a pye, which so pierceth Allah!
52
Spice his soul despot’s desolate mountain. No hero grace they return the three. And many a dear love, which he before worth white and can blames of that Higher title man. To make the boy does my heart? Was it roll’d; and told canopy the style, and roses, and all past a hundred maids till under— right and dread. After tears following breeze of Time, if Time, if Time, nor age in to enrich hath thee the Last sole Agent is it?
53
Herculean Is it perfumed altar must I be her lay in a straine, find some one him; but this hood, explaining; adown the troops as to laud the arbour thou bear’st the live leader of knights were left, where is no sleep, seeing all make thou art so unprovident; for as mine with Ismail’s stubborn in the million—drawered cherrywood cabinet that lift my hand gallop’d a- field. Not die a man was expanding though the floor.
54
Saints, descry neath the rampart. And when he ran at was right; there was as Ocean’s—nay, the freely gather sight, and corroding away, like hail, as yet free: the gold for their will her ring as a soft as a greater part I can do not just from thy portal youth, and day his sun’s sight as we enter’d. Question was I using hedges, and streets, this state; but now I thine in green-spreading, burst the infinities of the hearkens not!
55
—Then absence; if so you pour into her, and a sweet, how I do love were black night- wander, midst some parts of op’ning circle of thy record never ran away from me, when up to ninety year of Heav’n’s hardly credible how it all thing to passes blend, was shown me, than a two-year-old whom your dream, until they began to shield, how can my name. Weakling from men even to sigh and thirty years were pitty. Tops in love.
56
Th’ inward in the snow couplet, or it have been neglect, Love, Love, which to razed oblivion yield the same floor with all their pay, like the sky is still triumphal arch, perhaps the seed of eloquence is, these new assault: hounds, while I weep like Nero, though Ireland’s present, to quell, his jacket as welcome and cave and pain which pen expressive air, the Widow’s tears did not press’d with unkindness, ’ and the teeth. Of cherry place.
57
Of honey that were left me, saying to go; but the stairs in their axes: lo the Danube’s water. Their healthful served with ease the ever brought with fannes wel-shading away, he did, was this inke, my love, long to pant, which seem’d their rank of golden eye that our heart? If one, can say fie on the dream; yet, Thyrsis and loves to cry aloud: Help, father insult but enviously— when I shall happier times uncertaineth.
58
But a breadth of Autumn wild. ’ Sides its still. With mist that, thou Nymph reserve. It chance, apt to winne some divine strains. Has met wi’ the muscle and fancy I approve, in solemn air midst the Crown one knee; corruption corners. And head, smoking from car to spare her dream to some tempest of your smell, yet she will be a watchfulness way, whose rosy lips mine may make lies which call night to my thousands,—sometimes each me too sore, and fair one?
59
Toward where dwelt full to the other with your hands, blossoms the things were a word. The account Chapeau-Bras, too, had a bald spot man makes and braes, and held most; for this Polar melody spill, the boldest dead, or to the Blood, and hymns in the pleasure, no shape of blisse. Before it! Of Animal Desire? Not leave the multitude, I knew. His dull eyes did I frame a nest for him; to a boon southern council with the Golden Throne.
#poetry#automatically generated text#Patrick Mooney#Markov chains#Markov chain length: 6#160 texts#curtal sonnet sequence
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Richie doesn’t love visiting Eddie in New York right now, what with his divorce being not-quite-finalized and his house being not-quite-sold. Things between him and Myra seem amiable, at least, as far as Richie can tell, but it doesn’t mean he personally wants to spend any more time with the ghost of Sonya Kaspbrak than he has to.
But Eddie is wrapping up loose ends at work before his two-weeks’ notice is up, and he insists to Richie that he can’t fly out to LA right now, that it’s absolutely imperative that Richie keep his schedule clear to come see him, instead.
Richie plays nice and flies out to New York and even brings flowers to Myra as a peace offering, a “thanks for putting up with your almost-ex-husband’s best friend sleeping on your couch.”
Eddie will be moving out of that loveless townhouse soon enough, he figures, a thought that has absolutely nothing to do with him personally but still sends a little thrill through Richie every time he thinks of it, regardless.
Eddie meets his Uber out front, grabs him in a hug and practically throws his flowers inside the house with barely a word to Myra on his way back out. He doesn’t even give Richie a chance to step inside, just grabs his duffel bag and throws it into his own car and herds Richie into the passenger seat.
“We’re staying outside the city tonight, if that’s okay,” he says, swerving through city traffic and eventually navigating out of the city entirely. “I have something planned. Don’t hate it, alright?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Richie says with a laugh, half-nervous and half-delighted, the way he always feels around Eddie.
They check into a hotel somewhere in New Jersey just off the Turnpike, grab something to eat, and then get back in the car. Before long, they’re pulling into a crowded parking lot outside of a massive football stadium.
“Eddie, no offense, but I’m probably the wrong guy to bring to a football game.”
“It’s not even football season.” Eddie rolls his eyes good-naturedly and continues manhandling Richie, this time out of the car and up to a long security queue outside the stadium. “It’s a concert. Promise me you’re not going to hate it, all right? These tickets were expensive. You have to have fun or I’m not hanging out with you anymore.”
The fact that Eddie seems nervous weirdly calms Richie’s nerves, though his heart starts pounding as they make their way inside the stadium and up to their seats. They’re in a decent spot in the crowd — not floor seats, but not nosebleeds, either, and fairly centered in front of the stage. But Richie has been taking note of the merch tables on the way in, all the T-shirts worn by the guests around him, and he can’t stop his hands from shaking.
“Eddie,” he says, leaning in to be heard over the rising din of the crowd, “don’t tell me this is what I think it is. I’m gonna fucking die if you brought me to a Bruce Springsteen concert.”
Eddie whips his head around to stare hard at Richie. “I did. Why? Do you not like him anymore? I thought you loved him. You always used to listen to him in high school.”
Richie did always love Bruce Springsteen, and still does; that’s the problem. The amount of nights high-school Richie wished on shooting stars and called in to radio contests, praying to win Bruce tickets so he could take Eddie to a concert, to make it a real date…it’s all he ever dreamed of, and to have it now, without the deeper meaning behind it, is breaking his heart just a little.
But it’s also the best thing anyone has ever done for him, and he can’t help it if his eyes get misty and he has to throw his arms around Eddie and squeeze him tight.
“Alright, alright, I get it, enough,” Eddie laughs as the opening chords blare through the stadium. But when he pulls back, there’s something glimmering in his eyes, and he briefly rests a hand on Richie’s cheek before turning to the stage.
Halfway through the show, when the Boss is crooning about ghosts in the eyes of all the boys you sent away, how it’s a town full of losers and he’s pulling out of here to win, Richie turns to Eddie and squeezes his hand.
“When your 2 weeks at your job are up,” he says quickly, “when your divorce is finalized. Don’t stay here. Come to Los Angeles. Come live with me.”
The final harmonica notes are fading out by the time Eddie’s incredulous frown is smoothed away into a look of disbelief and then, miraculously, a smile.
“Hell yeah,” he says quietly, then again, louder, over the booming opening chords of the next song. “Hell yeah!”
He squeezes Richie’s hand back and then keeps holding on, doesn’t let go for the whole show.
#reddie#richie tozier#eddie kaspbrak#it chapter 2#reddie fic#it 2019#this is so long omg sorry#the richie tozier bruce springsteen agenda#richie tozier is a bruce springsteen stan truthers unite#literally richie as an annoying music kid who won’t shut up about springsteen is so !!!!! to me#more ‘mich gives her favorite characters her taste in music’ content#reddie bc
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97. hangster lmao.
Hey, thank you for this!
Here you go, hope you enjoy! The prompt is in bold as you're reading. Any mistakes are mine - unfortunately.
Warnings: Overstimulation
Jake knows his plan is going to have to wait, not that it was much of a plan - seducing Bradley these days is fairly easy, given that they're engaged and all - but Jake can see how his body is sagging, his eyes are red, irritated and drooping, he's practically shaking with the effort of carrying his bag, the relief when he drops it is visible.
Jake smiles softly anyway, waits quietly to be noticed leaning against the door.
Bradley kicks off his shoes and, eventually, he turns, his eyes lift and his smile, though laced with exhaustion, still manages to change his entire face.
"Hey, baby," he mumbles, stepping into Jakes space, swaying into him until they're pressed together, his nose in Jakes neck, breathing in deeply, letting Jake take his weight. "Missed you."
Jake rakes his fingers through Bradleys hair, careful not to tug too hard.
"Missed you too, baby," he sighs, "that bad? You're dead on your feet."
He gets a grunt that he can feel in his shoulder in response and then;
"Can't sleep without a one hundred and eighty something pound idiot sprawled all over me, making me too hot."
Bradley ends up standing upright with Jake unable to stop laughing for a solid few seconds. He finally pulls himself together and hums, a deliberate drop in tone and spark in his eye, wraps both arms around Bradleys waist.
"Shame."
"Yeah?" Bradleys eyebrow lifts, curious.
"I had plans for you," he smiles - something more like a smirk, "but if you're too tired–"
Bradley sighs and has the good sense to look a little dejected, but he stays quiet.
“I was good while you were gone. I didn’t even touch myself.” Jake throws it out on a whim, wanting to see how Bradley would react, though it wasn't a lie. If he'd woken up humping the sheets of their bed more than a time or two, that was between him and the ghoul in the closet.
He's almost a 100% certain if Bradley could will away the need to sleep; he would. The way he visibly shuts down and reboots at those words is endlessly satisfying, it sends a thrill up and down Jakes spine.
"Two weeks? Not once?" Bradleys voice cracks and Jake only shakes his head, bottom lip between his teeth.
The breath Bradley lets out is shaky and the next thing Jake knows, he's pinned against the wall a few steps behind him, Bradley nipping at his bottom lip and begging entry into his mouth with his tongue.
It's everything Jake had been hoping for even if he does feel a little guilty. He clings to Bradley, savours the feel of him so close and prays neither of them have to leave again anytime soon.
The next second Bradley has a hand shoved down Jakes sweats, the evidence of what he'd just been told throbbing between his legs with the minisscule amount of attention, already leaking pre-come.
Bradley takes Jake in his hand, loose for a moment, stroking leisurely, planting kisses over his face, just enough that Jakes eyelids droop and he slumps into the wall.
"Guess it would be mean of me to not give you something, then, wouldn't it?" He rasps.
Jake doesn't get time to respond with anything other than a desperate moan as Bradleys hand tightens and he pulls at Jakes cock with a tunnel vision focus on his goal. Within seconds he's lost the wherewithal to kiss Bradley back; or do anything other than grasp on him, tremble and moan, his hips arching off the wall, pushing himself into Bradleys hand.
He tries to speak, to warn, but all that come out is a series of reedy sounds along the lines of buh, ah and i'm-.
"It's okay, baby, come on, you can come." There's a ghost of hot air over his ear and he does. He comes so hard he might black out. He doesn't know how long it goes on for, but it feels like forever.
It doesn't stop.
Bradley doesn't stop.
Jakes brain finally comes back online and Bradley is still stripping his cock, fast, his grip tight, thumb pressing into and sweeping over the slit sporadically.
Jake curls in on himself as much as he can, a broken cry dragged out of him as the sensation hurtles toward pain, while it still feels so good. His toes clench, muscles locking up, right on the verge of giving himself cramp and Bradley keeps going.
Bradley's talking, Jakes not sure what he's saying. It sounds nice, soft - encouraging - a complete contrast to how forceful his hand is.
When he comes again, it's dragged out of him, so violently he can't make a sound until seconds later. He feels like he might drop straight through the floor if he falls now, but by some miracle Bradley has him.
Bradley has him all the way to bed.
Send more prompts but i'll just keep writing them anyway
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