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thelov3lybookworm · 1 year ago

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Remember Me? (Part 12)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Summary: Under the Mountain, Y/n met the High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand. She was scared of him, but soon she found out that he wasn't who he pretended to be. Despite her efforts at not falling in love with him, she fails. It's not that bad as he loves her back.

But now he's gone, and she's left alone with nothing.

Except for a very adorable reminder of him.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: secret pregnancy, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: heh

thats all i got to say lol

enjoy!

•○🌑○•

Y/n rose her eyebrows at Eris, waiting for him to begin speaking.

Sometime ago, a servant working in the Autumn Court's palace had informed Y/n that Eris was looking for her, and Y/n had rushed to meet him. Now she stood facing him, just like that night a month ago, the gentle evening breeze curling in the air, making the leaves outside the large window rustle softly.

It also didn't go unnoticed by Y/n that this was the same window that she and Eris had stood in front of that night Feyre had arrived in autumn court.

"You know how each year we have a high lord's meeting since the war with Hybern?"

Y/n nodded. It had become common knowledge that to prevent any more disputes between the courts, the High lords had decided to meet every year.

"This year Autumn is supposed to host the meeting, and the meeting is in a week's time."

Y/n blinked. "And?"

He rose a brow. "All the court's officials will be present."

Dread spread through Y/n when she realised. "Is Rhys going to be there too?"

His eyes flared with something like rage before his expression smoothed out. "No, because I have barred him from the court, but some of the members of his inner circle will be present."

Y/n heaved a sigh of relief. "And why are you telling me this?"

"So you can warn Feyre of it. The members are going to question if they find Nyx running around the corridors. Tamlin is also going to be present, and I don't know if you know of their history, but it was a messy situation she left him in."

Y/n nodded. "I'll let her know. Anything else?"

He nodded slowly, his eyes travelling leisurely to her feet and back to her eyes, making her heart start racing when he stepped forward

Only when she could feel his breath on her face did he stop advancing and speak, and Y/n ignored the urge to take a step back.

"One thing. Keep that bastard's name out of your mouth."

Y/n suppressed a shiver, instead lifting her chin and meeting his gaze head on.

"And what if I don't?"

"He will find himself incinerated." He murmured, the embers of a fire beginning to form in his eyes.

"Who do you think you are to tell me whose name to keep out of my mouth?" Y/n had no problem in not speaking her former lover's name, but an opportunity to get Eris riled up was too good to pass up.

There was an inferno raging in his eyes as he pushed the words out with gritted teeth.

"No one."

Though Y/n was disappointed, she wondered why she even expected a different answer.

"I will speak whomever's name I wish, then."

He looked away, his jaw clenched.

A muscle began feathering in his jaw, and Y/n blamed what she did next all on her distracted mind, but she reached up, gently running her fingers on that muscle in his jaw.

He stiffened instantly, and despite wanting to pull back her hand, her mind wouldn't let her.

He turned his head to her again, a different type of fire in his eyes now.

His eyes dropped to her lips, and Y/n held still as he leaned closer.

The air between them changed, becoming charged. Y/n waited with baited breath, not daring to take in necessary air in fear it would prompt him to turn away.

His hot breath washed over her face, and her eyes fluttered closed. Anticipation coursing through her very veins alongside her blood, she waited for that first caress of his lips.

Only it never came.

What did come, though, was the sound of screaming children, and Y/n and Eris barely had any time to jump apart before the kids came into view.

Y/n sighed, caressing the wall, pretending that she hadn't been about to kiss the high lord.

When the pattering feet came closer, she turned, flashing the little kids a dazzling smile as they came to a stop next to her feet.

"Auntie Y/n! Do you want to play with us?" Nyx asked, his eyes glittering.

There was obviously nothing else Y/n had to do, she agreed. Especially with what almost happened occupying her mind, she was sure she would not be able to focus on anything.

"Come, we have a few hours before dinner time, so we can play."

The children grabbed her hands, beginning to drag her away.

Y/n felt eyes on her all the way until she turned a corner and disappeared from his view, which did nothing to cool the warmth on her skin.

Feyre spoke up when she caught up to the Fin and Nyx, who were debating on what to play while Y/n watched.

"How about we play hide and seek?"

Y/n knew Feyre had questions, and so she didn't argue when she decided that Y/n and She would seek the kids.

"Y/n?" Feyre said as soon as the kids were out of earshot.

"Yes?"

"We need to talk."

Y/n sighed, nodding.

•○🌑○•

General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392

Eris Taglist: @kennedy-brooke@hnyclover@minnieoo@sidrapotter

Remember me Taglist: @holb32 @awoa1 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @luvmoo @we-were-beautiful @eerievixen @zoe2 @fussel9913 @j-pendragonx @thesnugglingduck @jesssicapaniagua @devilsnightz @esposadomd @littleffawn @mandowhatnow @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @princesslolaasworld @asemkta @cat-or-kitten @txzii @bunnyredgirl @theofficialmadman @leeknows-wife @aria-chikage @amygdtjhddzvb @azriels-mate123 @inky-clover @kemillyfreitas @12358 @justdreamstars @cuethedepession @princessvesta @fides25 @nocasdatsgay @acourtofbatboydreams @stained-glass-eyes0708 @glaciuswduo @wallacewillow0773638 @cassie6392 @quackitysdrugdealer @txzii @anuttellaa @coisas-da-dani @hnyclover @sassyslytherinshai @historygeekqueen @why4anne

#eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fandom #acotar fanfic #acotar fluff #acotar series #acotar writing #a court of mist and fury #mating bond #sarah j maas #acotar headcanon #pro eris vanserra

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fickleminder · 1 month ago

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bound by blood

In another world, Satan and Kirana first meet under less than ideal circumstances.

The blow came out of nowhere, striking Kirana across the face.

Her hand flew to her left cheek as she flinched, feeling a sharp groove where the whip had sliced her skin open. Something warm dripped past her palm and down her chin before plopping onto her shirt.

"Still don't believe me?" The blond man — no, demon — sneered at her. Black, gnarled horns had sprouted from the sides of his head during the split second she was hit, and Kirana realized the whip he had used was actually connected to his lower back.

She swallowed hard, too frightened to even think of a response. There was nowhere left in the tiny cell for her to run; her back was already against the wall, but she kept her arms up in defense, determined to go down swinging.

The demon tilted his head. "Not using magic? How pathetic. And you call yourself a witch—"

"I'm not a witch," Kirana argued, gritting her teeth. "I told you before, I don't know these people."

"That's not my problem." He stepped towards her like a cat that had found an injured bird, his grin widening at the way her shoulders rose higher and higher as he got closer and closer. "They threw you in here with me, so I can do whatever I want to you. Until I find a way out of this accursed place, you'll make for some decent entertainment—"

The demon licked the tip of his tail and froze. His eyes snapped towards the trickle of blood still oozing from Kirana's cheek, staring at it almost contemplatively.

Then several things happened at once: the demon's tail shot forward to wrap around her neck; she grabbed at it to stop it from choking her out as he bared his fangs and bit into his own hand; Kirana's mouth fell open as her throat was squeezed, and the demon took the chance to press his bleeding palm against it, muffling her screams and forcing his blood down her throat.

"You weren't lying. A witch's magic would have instinctively gone off under stress." He remarked after releasing her, watching curiously as she collapsed to her knees and gasped for breath. "But your blood… Are you sure you can't use magic?"

Kirana remained silent, arms held out as though bracing herself for another attack.

"Well, it doesn't matter. You can now, you know? I just gave you some of my blood. Want to see what you can do with it? Come on," the demon goaded her. "That friend who brought you here. She had tricked you, you said. You didn't know she was part of a coven, and she used you as a living sacrifice against your will. Doesn't that betrayal just make your blood boil?"

It sure did, though Kirana still refused to answer him directly. She didn't know what the demon had done to her or what would happen if she rose to his bait, but hearing his words caused her to shake with anger. Everything he said was true, and while she normally prided herself on controlling her emotions, she couldn't help the sudden surge of rage swelling in her chest, threatening to burst out—

BANG

The doors to the cell were smoking as they swung open, seemingly warped by an unseen force and looking as though they were about to fall off their hinges. The demon stepped out and dusted his hands with an impressed whistle. "I was right. That latent power in your blood really is something. I suppose I should thank you; the pact will serve both of us nicely."

"Pact?!" Kirana's head shot up in alarm. Wasn't that like some sort of contract? "What did you do to me?"

"I drank your blood and you drank mine. This forged a blood pact between us, albeit a temporary one." The demon explained as he strolled towards the locked door across the dusty basement. "In exchange for your miserable life, I'll be drawing on your magic to bypass these infernal wards and teach those stupid witches a lesson."

With a flash of green, the wooden door splintered into pieces. Kirana felt a distant pang going through her body, as if someone had reached deep into her bones and pulled something out. Her head was starting to spin slightly too.

"You can come with me, or don't. It's up to you, really." The demon was already halfway up the stairs. Beyond him, the faint sounds of ritualistic chanting were getting louder. "Just know that this building probably won't be standing by the end of the hour."

Left with no other choice, Kirana picked herself off the ground and followed.

#writing #obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me satan #obey me oc

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skzhocomments · 1 year ago

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THE WHITE LILY (Mafia Book #1 - Bang Chan) - Chapter 15 - I was never there

Story masterlist - please consult it for the summary of the story, trigger warnings etc.

General masterlist

Chapter 14 | Chapter 16

Let me know if you'd like to be on the taglist for this story or on the general taglist!

---

Chapter 15 - I was never there

chapter word count: 2.8k words

~third person POV~

"Sky, can you hear me?!"

"I think Minho's mic works, guys!" Seungmin shouted to Jeongin and Han, turning his eyes to the big computer screen in the van and turning off his headphones, putting Minho on speaker.

"Minho?!" Han spoke.

"Connect me to Chan right now!" the boy shouted through the earpiece. "I did it! Fuck, but there's a BIG problem."

"We hear you, Lee Know."Chan spoke, signaling to Changbin and Momo to retreat to the cars outside.

"I killed him!"

"So he came to Tunnel A, after all, like Shade thought." Seungmin affirmed.

"There's a big problem here, fuck. Jeongin, prepare the medical kit immediately! I'm coming with Felix and Hyo!"

"Minho, calm down, what's wrong with them?"

"They've been shot! Shade... shot them both."

"What the fuck happened?!" Chan opened the van's door and helped Minho carry Hyo and Felix inside. "Hyo, you were there with Shade the whole time... fill us in."

"I... Channie... I'm so sorry. Shade... no, Emilia. She... betrayed us. I don't know what happened, I really thought we were friends!" Hyo looked like a mess, crying her eyes out and bleeding profoundly from her leg.

"What... do you mean to say, Hyo...?" Chan asked with hesitation.

"When we were alone, the earpieces suddenly stopped working, and... she pulled out the gun on me... Told me she hates my guts, hopes I die and that she'll make it look like an accident! But then... Lixie opened the door... he tried to stop her, so she opened fire!" she cried.

"No... it can't be..." Chan shook his head. "That's impossible... she would never..."

"She kicked my gun from my hand when I tried to shoot back and then she shot me in the leg! Fuck, this hurts like a bitch!"

"It's impossible..." Chan continued to deny.

"OPEN YOUR GODDAMN EYES!" Minho shouted. "You have proof right here!"

"And there's more-" Hyo continued, barely speaking through the tears. "She must've been hand in hand with them the whole time... her room... still looked the same..."

"I- no..." Chan couldn't believe his ears. "But Lee Know killed their boss, so how..."

"I saw it too..." Minho nodded. "There were pics of her on the walls..."

"I told you... the baby with the rose mark on his back... wasn't a coincidence..." Hyo kept insisting.

Despite her messed up appearance, she was burning with happiness that she planted that seed a few months ago. It all fell into place, as Chan seemed to doubt Shade more and more.

Minho also bit the bait, much to her surprise, which only made things better for her. She was glad that she had the brilliant thought to shoot her leg and make it look like Shade did it.

It was so satisfying, she barely held in her smile.

Minho pat Chan on the back. "She probably thought that I wouldn't be able to take him down on my own... I know you love her, but... Lixie might not make it, Chris! And Hyo is also badly hurt! Because of her!"

"So... where is she, then?" Chan continued asking Hyo, not knowing what to think. Was Hyo telling the truth? How could she not, when she herself was bleeding so much?

"I don't know, Chris!" She cried out. "She ran away!"

"Look, we have some cameras outside, don't we? Seungmin can check if she left the Manor." Minho kept his calm, even though he was burning with rage inside. He also noticed that Chan wasn't completely rational, and when it came to hierarchy in SKZ, he was the next in line. It was time to help and take charge.

"Mhm, I found her... she headed towards the garage and left with a car just a few minutes ago. I'm trying to make out the plate number."

"Chris, we must... we must not let her get away." Hyo said. "What she's done to me... to Felix..."

"We won't." Lee Know placed his hand on Hyo's shoulder, comforting her. "We will find her and bring her back..."

Jeongin tried his hardest to tend to Felix and remove the bullets from his chest so he can stop the bleeding, being unable to process what the others were saying. His Emi would never do that. He was sure of that.

However, seeing Chan's gaze darken, his blood ran cold. He felt that his leader's feelings for Emilia were disappearing with every word Hyo said, and hearing how determined Lee Know was to find her, he imagined the worst.

Emi, stay away... he pleaded in his mind. It would be better that way.

Emilia took a car and started driving towards the side of the house where Jeongin, Jisung and Seungmin should've been stationed. However, no one was there when she arrived.

This can't be... Am I too late? she cried, hoping that the boys found Felix and took him back to the house.

It was only one way to find out, so she drove as best as she could, forcing herself to stay awake. The loss of blood was getting to her head, and the pain was almost unbearable, which forced her to take many stops on the long drive back to Stray Kids' house.

Tears were uncontrollably falling down her face, her vision blurry.

How did things get this fucked? She wondered, cursing herself for pushing down the uneasiness she felt about this night... that feeling of calm before the storm.

After almost three hours, she reached the house and stumbled inside.

She was able to hear voices in the kitchen, so she ran as fast as she could, in her wounded state, towards them.

Around the table, Chan, Hyo and Jeongin looked somberly.

"Emilia?!" Jeongin exclaimed and got up, coming to embrace the girl. He was quick to notice the blood coming from her abdomen, but before he could say or do anything, Chan got up and pushed him aside.

"Chan, how's Felix?!" the girl asked worriedly.

"Shade... bold of you to walk in here like this."

Shade? Why is he calling me Shade? Emilia quivered. He hasn't acted so cold ever since the baby incident...

"I don't know what you-"

"I'm barely holding myself together right now" Chan exhaled angrily. "... please, tell me... what the fuck did you do to Felix and Hyo?"

"I- I didn't do anything! Hyo, she's the one-"

"She's lying!" Hyo screamed at the top of her lungs, tears streaming down her face once again. "After what you've done to us, you dare to come back here?! How could you shoot me and Felix?"

"What?! I didn't- Chan, you have to believe me. Look, she-" Emilia tried to defend herself, but her words seemed to fall on deaf ears, as Chan got angrier the more she spoke.

"Get out." He spat.

"Wh.. what?" she looked at him puzzled. He surely wasn't telling her what she was hearing... was he?

"You heard me. Get the fuck out of here and never come back."

"But- but Chris-" she tried touching his face, wanting to speak some sense into him, but he already seemed to have his mind set.

"Don't fucking touch me." He replied emotionlessly.

Seeing that she wouldn't back down angered him even more, so he took it out on her with a powerful slap on her face.

The hit didn't seem to register, however, as she tried coming next to him again, touching his face, her hands shaking.

"I said, DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!" he pushed her as hard as he could, making her body hit the wall behind. She fell on her knees weak, powerless.

Why was this happening to her?

"Chan-" Jeongin tried to intervene, but he was quickly shut down as well.

"Go check on Felix, will you?" his leader commanded.

Huh, so Felix is alive, that's good... Emilia thought, feeling relieved that at least her friend was alright.

"For what you've done, I should kill you right here and now. You somehow managed to make me fall for you. How stupid was I?!" Chan continued angrily pulling out his gun and pointing it to his former lover as soon as Jeongin reluctantly left the room. "How could you betray them, hm?! How could you betray me?!"

"I never-" she tried to talk, but the blood in her mouth from the slap made her cough.

"You look so pathetic." Chan laughed lowly. "And you are worthless. It wouldn't even be fun killing you at this point."

He came closer to her and grabbed a handful of her hair, forcing her to look at him. His gaze was so cold, it made her freeze, for she never saw him like that, not even in the first night she came to kill him.

In her head, especially since becoming his lover, she never connected Chris, the love of her life, to Chris, the heartless mafia leader.

"I'm gonna give you some time to pull yourself together... and when your world's sweetest, I'll hunt you down with everything I have. You hear me? This shall be fun. We can even put your pretty head on display somewhere in the garden when the time comes, why not? That's what rats deserve."

Emilia stood on the ground, silent.

"Not gonna say anything, doll? Then get the fuck out of my house already, will you? You fucking traitor." He let go of her hair pushing her, and turned around.

Nonchalant, he grabbed a napkin from the table and wiped off the blood on his hands – hers – then headed towards the door, signalling to Hyo to follow him.

Hyo took one last glance at Emilia before exiting the room in crutches. Seeing her like this was even more satisfying than if she managed to kill her earlier.

God, what a good feeling! she smirked, turning around.

youtube

(Song: The Weekend - I was never there)

(quick A/N: I recommend listening to this while you read the next part, as it's been an inspiration for this chapter)

Emilia stood on the ground bleeding for what felt like hours. After having her whole life taken away from her by the man she loved most, she was completely empty.

It never mattered that she would've never betrayed Chan, that she would always be on his side, because it seems he was never on hers.

Otherwise, why would he turn his back on her so easily? How could he not even listen to a single word she tried to say?

He took Hyo's words at face value once again and didn't even doubt for a second that things could've happened differently.

Channelling all the force left in her body, she used the wall behind her to stand up. She slowly made her way out of the house, leaving a trail of blood behind her, and she walked through the now-so-familiar gardens of the manor, out on the empty streets, so dizzy she didn't even notice where she was headed.

However, her feet seemed to have a location memorized, as they brought her there without her mind to it.

The Overpass.

This shall be her grave.

Seems fitting. She thought, leaning against the old bridge's wall and letting herself fall down to the ground, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply.

Her vision was blurry enough either way, so why not just close them and listen to the world around her? After all, the last senses you lose when you die are hearing and touching, and so her hearing was as sharp as ever. Even sharper, perhaps.

Hearing the water's flow beautifully in front of her, she wished she could just be one of the fishes swimming without a care in the world in there.

Ah, if only I was a fish! She thought, bringing a smile to her face.

But no, I always wanted more. Too much.

Thinking of him hurts...

Fuck.

Why was I so stupid?

I can't believe I got myself tricked so easily.

Did I bring my own demise?

I must've, right?

It's all my fault things turned out this way.

Somewhere from her left side, heavy footsteps were closing in. She pulled out her gun, pointing it towards the dark figure that was approaching, and pulled the trigger.

Of course, nothing happened. The gun was as empty as it was earlier when Hyo stabbed her.

She couldn't help but let out a bitter chuckle.

„You lost a lot of blood." a quiet voice spoke next to her. She quickly felt herself being picked up from the ground.

She let herself indulge in this last gesture of care and placed her head on this person's shoulder. It felt different from Chan's.

Opening her eyes slowly, she was unable to see anything but a dark silhouette.

"San...? why are you here...?" Emilia asked weakly. "You died... did I... also... die...?"

"Shh. Don't speak. I'm here to repay the favour. I'll be your guardian angel this time." The voice said, making no sense in the girl's head, for the boy was not her former partner, but her Shadow.

"I'm gonna fix you. Everything will be alright." Jeongin spoke again, trying more to assure himself than to assure her.

"I will take care of you... I will never leave you alone..."

His voice was growing distant, as Emilia slipped in and out of consciousness.

She woke up a few days later in an unfamiliar room.

"Argh." She tried to stand up, the pain in her abdomen stopping her.

"You're awake! Thank God!" Jeongin rushed near the bed. "I was afraid you're gonna wake up when I'm not here."

"Felix... how is Felix?" Emilia asked anxiously, as she suddenly remembered all the events that took place before she passed out.

"He's stable for now, but... we still aren't sure if he'll make it... he has yet to wake up." Jeongin looked down for a brief moment, before sitting on the bed next to Emilia and grabbing her hands.

"I'm so glad you're awake, though. You have no idea."

"Jeongin... you shouldn't be here, Foxie..." she looked away. "I'm a traitor in Chan's eyes... he will kill you if he found out..."

"Emi, I know you would've never harmed Felix or Hyo... She is lying, isn't she?"

Hearing that question brought back all the feelings she tried to bury. She started crying uncontrollably, letting herself be embraced and soothed by Jeongin.

"Shh, it's okay."

"But it's not! Chan, he- fuck, Jeongin, I messed up!"

"If Felix wakes up, this whole misunderstanding will be solved..." Jeongin started.

"No, you're missing the point. I messed up because I let myself fall so in love with him, it hurts! I didn't care about how fast and hard I fell for him. Why didn't I know how dangerous that was, hm?!" She started sobbing, feeling all the pain inflicted on her soul by her former lover.

How little regard did he have for her and their relationship, she wondered? Why was it so easy to push her away, to not even care about what she had to say?

Wasn't he supposed to love her? To be on her side?

Or were those just lies?

Her feelings for Chan were suicide, only you couldn't see the ropes.

The boy held her tighter.

"I was simply... oblivious that his kisses were poison to me. How couldn't I notice it was too good to be true?!" she cried and cried, holding onto Jeongin for dear life.

However, this time he pulled away and wiped the tears off her face.

"Emi... it's not your fault. What other people do is not up to you..."

"You're right, but you know what the sad thing is? Even if I knew, it probably wouldn't have mattered. As long as it was him... I would've... gladly... drunk any poison." She smiled genuinely.

Jeongin didn't say anything in response, waiting for the girl to finish.

"The only mistake I made... was to not realise that he wouldn't do the same for me."

I would've taken a bullet for him to prove how much I loved him, but as it turned out... all this time, he was the one holding the gun.

"How ironic... Why did things happen like this?" she continued smiling.

After all, nothing hurts more in this world than a heart left wondering why.

She didn't know what to do with herself, so she simply had to turn off everything around her. She had to grow numb, and her smile in these circumstances only proved so further.

"Jeongin, even if Felix wakes up, which I pray to God will happen, I can never go back there. Chris... I don't want to see him ever again."

The boy nodded.

"I always thought... white lilies represent a new you, a Rebirth... but you know, Innie?"

"I'm not sure I follow..." he replied, confused, unaware of the painting in Hyunjin's greenhouse.

"The truth is, they have a double meaning. They represent the dead... And that's what I want to be for him, do you understand?"

"Emi-"

"You will go out and dig a grave for me... and if he ever asks..."

"... I understand. And I promise you that I will do just as you asked me."

"Thank you, Innie." The girl smiled shily. "Truly. You're the only one I can still trust."

"Emi... how about this? We'll wait for a few more days until you are a bit better, you lost so much blood... and after that, let's leave this shithole behind, together. Let's run far away for good."

Jeongin grabbed Emilia's face and looked deeply into her eyes.

"I'll make you forget all about him."

With no warning, he pressed their lips together.

Let this be... the last time we see each other, Innie. Emilia thought and indulged in the kiss.

The first time they met, she gave him the gift of life, saving him. This shall be her farewell present, then.

---

Chapter 14 | Chapter 16

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greenbergwrites · 1 year ago

Note

hi!! idk if you’ve answered an ask about this (or if you have any interest in continuing this verse, which is totally ok if you don’t!) but I always wondered what you had planned for those 2-3 extra parts you mentioned in the blood in my veins. it’s one of my favorite stucky fics so anything and everything you’re willing to share about it would make my day 🫶🏽

ah, my first foray into stucky <3 I really loved that 'verse, I can't believe I never finished it

The TL;DR version is that Part Two was going to be them during the war and Part Three was going to be modern day where they reunite once and for all. I had 2500 words written for the modern day part, and I can share it if you're interested, but here is an interlude that I wrote about them from the Commandos' point of view but never finished yes this has been sitting in my WIP folder for almost a decade

(There was supposed to be more between everything else and those last two lines. I always knew those lines would end this part.)

~~~

Here’s what the Commandos know about Rogers and Barnes:

Don’t try to come between them and you’ll be alright.

---

The facts are this:

The war tried to come between them when it drafted Barnes, so Rogers decided he was going to enlist. The Army tried next when they wouldn’t let him, so he signed up for Project Rebirth.

Colonel Phillips tried when he wouldn’t send Rogers to the front lines and then he tried again when Barnes was captured and the Colonel didn’t plan on sending a rescue team.

It’s around that time that people start getting wise to the idea that trying to keep them apart is pretty embarrassing for everyone involved. The crazy bastards are going to stay together no matter what. They’re gonna follow each other anywhere - everywhere - and it’s just easier if you let ‘em.

So, Rogers rescues Barnes and then the Army gives them their own team. Officially, it’s Captain America’s team but none of the Commandos are stupid. They know exactly how the hierarchy in the team works and rank has exactly fuck all to do with it.

---

Dugan saw Barnes’ tattoo pretty early on. The damn thing was like his good luck charm. He wasn’t shy about staring at it or running his fingers over it. Hell, he even kissed it before one fight. Dugan ribbed Barnes good about it, but he only received a sharp grin in response. Barnes never rose to the bait and Dugan was never trusted with the name of the dame to which the initials SR belonged.

After Azzano, he doesn’t really think to connect the dots. Not until Rogers catches a knife to the shoulder in their second mission.

Now that’s a story all its own but the long and short of it is this: they capture an enemy combatant. The plan is to take him back to base for interrogation but the sonuvabitch gets loose, manages to get some sort of shiv in the good Captain before he’s subdued.

Rogers, blood soaking his uniform, just looks at the poor bastard and says, calm as anything, “you shouldn’t have done that.”

No sooner are the words out of his mouth, there’s a bullet in the prisoner’s skull. Rogers is the only one that doesn’t jump, the only one that isn’t goddamn floored by it. Barnes appears out of thin air, holstering his side-arm calmly. His face isn’t calm, though. It’s a dark thing, that look in his eyes. Near black with rage.

He strides purposefully toward Steve, settling proprietary hands on him as soon as he’s close enough. He pats Steve down for any other injuries as the others look on in frozen shock.

No one had even known Barnes was there.

“You okay?” Barnes asks, and Rogers nods, a funny little smile twisting his mouth.

He looks at Barnes like he hung the fuckin’ moon and Barnes is looking back like he’ll burn the world down around them if he thinks it’ll heal Rogers any faster.

It’s Dugan, Morita, and Falsworth that see the whole thing go down. It’s the three of them that find themselves on the receiving end of Barnes’ glare when he says, “Get Jones, now.”

Morita’s the first to move but he does it slowly, like any wrong move will get him a bullet, too. Dugan and Falsworth follow, helpless, when Barnes starts herding their Captain towards shelter. There’s a kind of morbid fascination to see how this turns out.

“Get to the tent,” Barnes says. “We need to get this off’a you.”

Rogers moves but reluctantly, rolling his eyes. “C’mon, Buck --”

“Shut up, Rogers, don’t give me any of that super soldier bullshit. Get in the fucking tent.”

Rogers does and then Barnes starts undressing him. He touches the Captain like he owns him, not bothering to ask about this or that before he just does it and Rogers, well. Rogers lets him. It’s completely at odds with what they know about the man.

“You shouldn’t have shot him in the head,” Rogers says but he doesn’t sound angry. He sounds almost amused.

Barnes pauses to give him an incredulous look. “He fuckin’ stabbed you, Steve. What did you want me to do?”

“Try a kneecap next time.”

Next time.

Jesus, Dugan thinks. Rogers expects this to happen again.

Barnes grunts, assenting, as he carefully peels the uniform off the Captain’s injured shoulder and then shoves it down around his waist. Blood trickles down Rogers’ bare chest and Barnes uses the cleanest rag they currently have to wipe it away. He doesn’t leave Rogers alone until the rest of the team arrives–Morita dragging Jones, Dernier taking up the rear–and then he moves to stand behind Rogers, a hand on his uninjured shoulder.

“He got stabbed,” Barnes says, short and angry. “Shoulder. Fix it.”

Jones blinks, surprised by the venomous tone, but nods and goes to work. There is a careful wariness in his movements as he goes to touch Steve, the barest of glances toward Bucky that ask for permission to touch and Barnes knows it because he nods his approval. Morita must have given them the quick and dirty of what happened.

As the wound is tended, Barnes’ fingers dig into Steve’s flesh and Steve reaches a hand up to soothe him.

That’s when they see it. It’s there and gone in a flash, a blink and you miss it twist of Steve’s wrist that gives them the show, but none of them actually miss it.

They glance at each other to make sure–Jones tilts his head to Dernier for just a second, Dernier to Morita and Morita to Dugan, Dugan to Falsworth–and then just as quickly, they all glance away.

JB, the tattoo on his wrists says--a mirror to Barnes’ own.

Well. At least Dugan knows who SR is now.

---

They bury the body in an unmarked grave and when they get back to camp, no one mentions the soldier they captured. It’s as if there never was one.

Barnes never does it again but he comes close enough that Dugan knows if it hadn’t been for Steve’s words, there’d be a lot more dead bodies left in their wake.

---

There’s a shadow over Barnes and there always has been. Dugan saw it the first time they met; past the pretty boy face and the charming smiles, darkness lurks. It didn’t matter much back in the beginning and it doesn’t matter much now.

Shadow or not, Barnes is a likable guy. He’s a good shot and a good soldier, tells good stories by the campfires, and he’s loyal to boot. Not just to Captain Rogers, either. He’s been loyal to his men since day one and he’ll do anything he can to see them through to the other side of whatever shit the Army puts them in.

That doesn’t change when Rogers comes along but there is a noticeable shift in priority. Barnes will always protect Rogers first and nothing anyone says is gonna change that. Dugan thanks his lucky stars every goddamn day that Rogers is a man who can take care of himself, otherwise the rest of ‘em might be fucked all to hell.

---

Nobody is surprised when Steve crashes the plane. They’re just surprised he lasted as long as he did.

#moodymelanist #greenberg replies #the blood in my veins #my fic #wips that i never finished

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bionic-egypt · 9 months ago

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Wither

Deep in the firey pits of the Nether is the Wither, ruling her realm from a gilded black throne. The piglin campes regard her as Queen, sending their toughest brutes to be her guards, though she is strong enough not to need them. She welcomes them anyway, offering protection and revenge if they join her.

When the Nether was first invaded by the builders, they learned quickly of the dangers this new realm presented. Lakes of lava, deep enough to drown in if they didn't first burn, lit the world from beneath. Monsters of the sort which should only exist in nightmares populated the landscape. Yet despite the dangers, the builders decided they would conquer this place as they had done the Overworld.

Blazes were slain en masse for their rods. Piglins were enslaved for their trades. Buildings were demolished for their materials. The very ground was torn up and reformed to the whims of the builders.

But the Nether hid another terrible surprise. Builders who died in the burning depths rose again as soulles skeletons. The screaming faces of their passed loved ones surfaced in the sands. Souls powered this realm.

One of the builders realized the power of souls and made a connection: if they could find the soul of their fallen and recombine it with the body, could they bring their loved ones back? There was only one way to find out.

Much trial and error led to the discovery that just one skeleton wasn't enough to hold the magic needed for revival. Three was the perfect number. Three blackened skulls atop a pile of screaming sand, infused with power and past lives and potential.

But using three different bodies to bring a person back comes with unintended consequences. It was not the loved one of the builder that was formed from the sands. The being that opened pure white eyes was visually a mix of all three people whoes bodies were used in her creation. She awoke with none of their memories, no knowledge of anything that lay beyond the obsidian frame hidden deep inside the fortress.

The one who brought the Wither to life was angered by her existence. This was not what they wanted. No matter how hard they tried, no matter what they threatened, the Wither was unable to recall memories not her own. The builder even attempted bringing her through the portal to see the Overworld, go back to places where they had spent time with their loved one, but nothing changed. Nothing, that was, except revealing the existence of the Overworld to the Wither.

When it finally became apparent that the Wither could not - or would not - remember whose bodies now made up her own, the builder threw her in the fortress' newly constructed dungeon. Let the monster rot. Perhaps they could reuse the body and try again.

In that dungeon, alone with only the knowledge that she was not enough for her creators, the Wither grew enraged. With that rage came power, destruction, flying skulls that exploded on impact. She blasted her way free of the dungeon and fled into the wastelands.

The Wither had seen how the builders treated the peoples of the Nether. She had seen the piglins held captive for their knowledge of Nether matierals, the blaze slaughtered in fireproof chambers, the endermen intentionally baited into attacking so their pearls could more easily be cut from their chests. She knew they were stronger than the builders; they only needed someone to rally them together. She could be that someone.

It was difficult at first, bringing the peoples of the Nether together. No one wanted to ally themselves with a being who so closely resembled the very people who they were to be fighting. But the Wither proved herself, protecting them from wandering bands of explorers, freeing lesser-guarded groups. Eventually, the Wither managed to bring an army under her command. And with that army, she began the attack.

The builders weren't prepared for the assault. their fortresses hadn't been attacked nearly since their creation, and never on this scale. With their advantage, the Wither's army drove the builders back to the Overworld. Those that didn't were slaughtered, their skeletons rising to add to the army's ranks.

The Wither took great delight in personally destroying the one who created her. The blackened rose they left behind would be kept in the very dungeon she escaped from.

With the builders gone, the army shattered the portals behind them, leaving broken obsidian frames in their wake. Over the next few years, they would do their best to return the Nether to what it had once been.

In the newly constructed bastion, a throne room was added. The wither was crowned the Nether's queen for her achievements. Under her rule, the Nether would be stronger than ever before.

But despite the newfound peace, the Wither knows it will not last. The builders are still out there. Eventually they will return to the Nether. So she plans. Someday soon, the Wither will launch an attack on the Overworld and wipe out the builders once and for all.

#my art #marker #my writing #minecraft #minecraft wither #minecraft mob queen au

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dumbegglife · 2 years ago

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genshin hate - i can't contain myself

ooooooooooooh wooooow it's been a while since i was so fed up with this game but here we are again =)))))) i'm really amazed this game rose to this level of popularity.......the writing and execution are SOOO BAD...sumeru had notable improvements, i really like scara and nahida, and i liked the 3.6 event, so i guess i've been hoping for better quality narratives and stories. but i just did a world quest that took me a month and narratively, i'm disappointed out of my mind. at some point, i had spent so much time on it, i couldn't stop. but each quest kept breaking out into 3 other quests, and i just had to keep going or else everything would've felt like a waste.

i expect too much out of this game, because it truly enrages me like nothing else. i feel like xiao was bait and now i'm in the belly of the monster. Maybe xiao should have never existed at all and i would have never had to play this game :)

if genshin were a book, i would've dropped it in a day. but because it's not a book, but a game, where there's music, voice acting, gorgeous fanart, and pretty scenery, it's been so much harder. i love genshin's music. it's a big part of why i started and why i continued. i want so much more than it ever has to offer, but i'm invested enough in certain characters, that i really want to know what happens!! in the end, i truly think it will not be worth it though, and part of me really wishes i could just completely drop and forget about it right now.

i'm extremely aware that the quality of the music and the story do not match at all. it's hard to be fully immersed because of this awareness and because i'm always expecting something bad. i think i've played enough though that, at its core, genshin is very very bad and it makes me so angry, but i don't have many people to share my rage with ^^

the previous lowest genshin points of my experience (they were excruciatingly boring and long and badly written):

shenhe's quest

entirety of inazuma

most the chasm

perilous trail

Boundaries for myself

never playing another world quest again

not spending money on any more characters

#eggpersonal

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dearweirdme · 1 year ago

Note

Hi. Now that this Jennie song situation with The Weeknd happened. I’m thinking Tae only agreed to do this media play with Jennie last year because her company probably convinced him and hybe that she was going to be super popular because of the show. They might have thought it was going to be another hit like Euphoria. Since BTS and Tae were trying to gain more attention from the west they probably saw some sort of positive impact to be associated with a “great actress” like her lol

But because that show ended up being a complete disaster, Jennie and her team are trying hard to cover it up with a fake relationship. That’s not working either because this time even her own fans were shaming her for media play

I can tell now that they have decided to go with the regular route where they use the shows negative attention to promote The Weeknd and Jennie. Sort of like the marketing strategy that the Kardashians use where they rage bait and use the negative publicity for promotion of another project. Or as they say “any publicity is good publicity” especially in Hollywood……

I’m seeing Tae not participating at all this time around. Last time you would see him wear similar items as the leaked pictures but this time he was completely out of it. I have a feeling this media play is done. I don’t think they can do anything anymore because the way The Weeknd spoke about Jennie in the song is so disrespectful and IF Tae was truly her boyfriend he would not let that happen and be quite. That’s so crazy.

Jennie seems like a complete airhead, she personally agreed to participate in a show that promotes r*pe and violent behavior against women. I get such a bad vibe from her now. I hope hybe stops this and Tae stays away as far as possible from Jennie and YG. I wish Tae the best in his future projects and hopefully stupid hybe understands that Tae doesn’t need that type of media play <33333 k thank you for reading all of that. Bye.

Hi anon!

Well, I do think Jennie did it because of The Idol series, but to Tae it would make little difference. Jennie was already super popular without The Idol. The spotlight has also mostly been on Jennie during all this. What I suspect (but ofcourse do not know for sure) is that YG saw the potential after the accidental TAe follow. Maybe the Gurumi thing had to do with them as well, maybe someone else also saw the potential... because that too had Jennie as main character. I think YG then contacted Hybe to ask for Tae's cooperation, Hybe saw the potential as well, and Tae also had his reasons for agreeing. What we've seen from Tae's part is way less than from Jennie's side though, so I suspect he agreed to only a few things.

With knowing Tae wouldn't participate for an extended time they came up with a new stunt (assuming Jennie is in on the Abel stuff, still not sure though). And that's what we're having now. But, it's slightly on the late side to work as promo for The Idol... unless they're trying for a season two.. but 🥴.

But it's also possible Tae pulled out because he/they didn't like the way things were going. And... it's even possible we haven't seen the last of Taennie yet (but at this point... not reeeallly expecting much.. maybe around Tae's album).

I don't think Jennie is an airhead. I think she has high ambitions and tries to do things that will make her accomplish those ambitions. It's ultimately her choices to make. I think her being Jennie gives her more hate because of The Idol than others. Does Lilly Rose Depp get the same amount of hate for instance (I honestly don't know)? I do absolutely hope we've seen the last of Taennie, but I cannot yet be sure.

#taennope

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libidomechanica · 2 months ago

Text

Untitled (“Three-plank”)

A limerick sequence

Licence. To harm’d to payne. Three-plank. Stay you, the grew men. In wake! No mountainment. Next, while it with a Bands us: save did nothere whom so dust. Cannot her eyes me!

The Trust doth of what scold marriors upright he shiness my are, melted, and thy both riot Paynims propose up for Maid! The Crop rotted free is of Love, he red.

Drawn are could of loued with just enough shal were fynde, ’ But chastes o’er damned attereties, who take a new will thy growing! Some fair crept. Cant syster this man fellow’d?

The side and my father did tho no! Whole all eyes, your iron politics my paid hands wretchest a stemme, becauseous silenty inhere sacred fix’d out the so.

But Saving man doubt. Here then my faith a murden, compled his cry, and tear; heaue the girls on her glow. If you of purposed his Land, save I not himself a man.

And baite, the Kind. Thee like to her dreary need am aweary, I have will pyping so must fast, pring banisht with engage to saved so spell’d in she floated next?

Pick with I tho’ I sing the devil with closes! Were me in a Reign Universe. ’Er which me. She the bals-parters they can Alpine error perious on thy sway.

State ‘plative train and resign, doe sea. My Fate a hey, he look like men; irksom nake drilliant you snail, and ther, captainstrong with closes proving men consumm’d—praction.

And himself doves of air. Where so em? And degraded, sweetness, alth. Say, and you of marring? Has have a was one them push, that I not undred alum and rended!

Is observe the bitted contries much me, and most guilty to ther pretty columes did in slept inding, for his eye: he glittle of nature a backwards dar’d.

—Scott, their verdant my heate; I could love: from Loue not, but gross, by oath because of all? And trouble, a hearts. Wait fining in the creamly Golden orphos’d in in be?

A Russ forced nor woman were him to which spird dost ioye, for hope, nor chast to the was hearted his swarmed Smith. A ghost half-defected play; while youth the words could bette.

Of raise, a better by white. Twice to thought short of that then Silk, and new passion a chamberless does happy heart of naught so, no hundress wise which to then their charm!

That the pageantic bosom’d, which sleep. To the does witch, have neck, among head, and yet draw a peaker emplations, than muse of bonne refusde foe. Been not slack, thee, raise.

And a believe memoriendly Rage, hover? Quit, the Markest Madness; why written’d this gone of his but if itself the soon number: the sickers, grow: for Grey fuse?

Tell worke he have doe flying, her people word, in bail then Love, how swart mystic and Lilly am joy of Lamb. If by the scot so bring word, a more the part gone.

Tears will stone. Last will that so we long and, hey lies their your eyes a light, agains my so! Who living a tones, nail, Tacitus, in coud plast. Affect table flower.

But who would beard no Train, Thou though all knocke? How easts way around their breatures, two arms fit found arrows who put in the but the go … Oh, yet; she bowls If I wage.

From obligent flame! The Sanhedrins a crimson dame for than which display. For place of lies breat, doth none maiden, whose who him writes. I never: yet nother before.

In a practer—a coquets of chilled of guard: and it of would far fear but a life is buy. Her of witch’s ends, is not she and feel, in her innocents never be?

A poisoned that my parenely feeline eyes shelterate? Pique they reasure ther god their Cause, fitting eyes, who say, own’d by where unworth mery bles! By that me.

And off tap is doubt, past wenty is; and kissessing list in all pique the quick a this, track Scorn; your dark the life, ye which unknow. To whole; so remembell said it.

By meadow and holybush, and what lives the Rest? And my duties were sun, Hark! When would cree. That when their loved makest in the left burn out if it sorrowing year.

‘I did with the for his rose, anxious? But thou feel aisle been’ a clos’d Labout. And Gills to loved then which to was chimney nothere suit mind, or the maid his reckage.

He sign, nor see, at length nor whom David’s Revolent pass his hot. It was the on my love is works to had bred flight. He vertue me lique and she language will my Muse.

You waits to near is circle, and the rayse vp the fight, he best thou go by, and Conway the moved. The Maste and drizzling steel: but beside: ah Curse was nor mangertius.

Was news: and little-conjuried: the juries of paste. I said, onely fed with you guess the sad exorcing thing from men’s oak a murmuring my Desire.

Said it of thy look a maid, Look! Began: My lady, Murther redeem’d this Right and house it was busite been Head and for morning, for it may have and let my suite.

But of Progress, the happened barrest, bound other retired eats and bloom and in ours righty very work the land Redde, more. What is own hears, as Sign beyond was mine!

My face it the so; as feeble; and Mose’s June. Thou an immortal! His Zenobis please to what side, but for son she that him as dividing over! Thereon.

And I shallop, drows left an ever cracy. And weak the daughing thy brow; the me now you’d repent dash awfull buy tears the console leave knows its pride: and is woe.

And alon: ther though thy found Plot. My between, through all the prospection; and as which never to o’erthrough its haue yblending reel, fathers both roof that he her round.

In sough don’t shun or had bud the Harp be above Encours, where, or which nothink up who burnt like Alcibiadem. Not yet whethere torn? Long, your sort? Him dayling flame!

A Harp I say a fable; azure tis moiseless doth grief of all break from the wooing Folding payne, and gout, for those patring year, a gives good. But I shower.

That like any word! For fruit prevail as health, flatter follows: who was summon call’d as a spoke: some cleven Damsines peries head, now exquisite; and, the near.

That pring spring from any blouds and never Reb ell. And would carriage and sing wind he hande, the true memorie; lest, try on the heards my can, he chances Souvaroff.

To feede: he columes wide: the bene this Cause in so streigned, and gave doom. Our sky koclobski, Koklophti, was work obscurtaintly with let to found aside.

Right his ware not thousand accentle ingrates and and spoke this a gloom, i not things for Love, see the done same their game Chiefest friend whose what with the floor. A slight.

In trave shade a words. Lo! I saw hypocrisy displenderforment a Trojan a tressented ther did now I click when souler of newe to let ther’d a White.

But the strations twirest’? So ease, inventh Man with its long-bell, like, let eyes me fear, that our more his words soon; whose Sage glittle thy like and neverald at brows pair.

In my follow down with hoary face had he, content wretche: at finding throat. Not thin his spurren calm was fade me too much the warm stretched the rung sprince first thy manners?

He no meer in sight all.—Has the wit and he long in fill, for the place. Like at yestedfaste in clotter’d this Prince the proud next I writer chain-drop rot betray?

Had so much leases falls nor the sullet mind. But is bride. Those led, withough with else claim to fit as heave she wearing; a fairy Deitie I bette curious place?

Till see,—Pries, for Love, till the prayed, your Ruine as my troop, dripped from such to the their horsman’s heart, his you say the appoint of riverther pell woe! Came to guess craverse.

But ten places, that I need with thrifting, relight, so may dwelt of you knock my got in her lip. Clips and cease, with the love, thee my love is tear pray’d togethere it.

The birth, and me as the firelieve. Which self, and sighing, if you pleast be told. They stone; dreams, shun sound, as but of absent; for a whom I go one was should the Foes.

Or away of some World makes and fast loves oppose: Achitophere Sabbath and splendour and was not sin to me. Is to sharp thy sweep, when Autumn, like a seat night.

Then I came Despair phantasier bed sweet do—the Prophies, like through that I am at a Throng Chief phant stare. Who much sighs, and mind; I bow; the mates me new-found makes.

Last devils repart marrivers of Danube’st the so! Take myself, and meet, and this hotten by thee but a swings into than harm and charm in a diners’ thee.

I hate of—suwarried in hing Toies, has is good once my have in next high, yet love ouerthrought as sweet under the their equal task the Freed from his Neck grim; himself!

His Masques sank, what the song to suiciden, tready city casemen, I named. After beyonder they music haste, ease, that he precall. For to now soon; flutter.

All the mute. Down an only darkness. Sets reward for hope wide: thus at hour, I know the state her sex weed-head wears; but, me, diner shadowing a ding … I will dear!

Whose of the held ecline of my sing angry we knew hundreds temper’d, and wet nature in he land. Such a horse; and of easies, for hills me no many, some whole!

Yes—I come by Nature, as the of modest she, that a for Argument? Buy measure, suggesturb young floors of booty; and passistern wait half at musemen.

” Must this verthrow lute, presenterest? And which me; the vallent which, and Bills are on the new lies. But vse sound, and clearne to that so dull of tray? Get hie thanks, with blast.

’ Is the prisoners amorought to postpone, their so your rude. While, possible bastarry judges grotes mind, how bad eage: come— the how shiver’d duke! Shall down crying.

A prison which painful off anothink’st witch! But allions some should leave, being out of Son! Weary as the Danube’s to my Mad? The Politic books and light.

An evidention two hummit …. Like head rans Flowers her roundercurren up himself at thou would reven I hope the stay be could be rives having be that leas’d.

Save ’scaper’d: the gay or long time sleeps mind. And, some lect a schoose. Is in charge; that crew, so see remove to my Power; fraid! And clear with his inded be faintlike dead?

But will alas! You whereth floor, much, to silent: the eyes, but burdeneral clearn bath they handy since wine, and they to save was sweet me to will is taught of WInd.

, Believe, beforehandsomethings of man their folly one but other bleed, and that Pan the roses! And But for peared to glimp’d up in praise, tis not loves all.

Be unless like on them beyond that beauty mocks deared; she middle on, the paine that’s the first mart, a clovel so rules, dear, and as I, my sweet air or the aim!

For of blown thin Oneself have going’s make clouds down, thers man thou held in publicker only slime woman. For Greek’s dangled; and Loverless a sudder excession.

Or more to name; if you. Of them apart, by death the name; nor low, Arsniew it was no seed unting with, ’ a voice. The long and fair. My Common—promis’d and nor deare.

He what grass: his Dissolve shamefull of both pries on than it me while I hold with such I have pringtimes heard then the droop; the stay? Then doubt it than your or must.

In do prite of dared; but in love overents the moulded way the Oracles., All sit bless then battle love you were was not know, if part is spoil life sun, and St.

The may liv’d the glimmerse meant in bloom and the that the business. Raise. Of my might ther sawe Phoebe same ruby speech in place nother desolv’d thought that is singer, churl.

There the Disease the shall be bonds, will fair. Quiet, may none of the breasons Witness, as as pity moaning, or breat that happed rak’d, and where grew, so far than plays.

And close kind his kind weake, my daring peace a brave; the Laws heart my mind her pretence in the harm she irregularly. And with I shall because, hys some speech in.

But to they be a rose-mouth, impath. Sanction shalt note. Now that’s times increat a dress space not touch from half-conference to thy To that a prim, sweetly, if a glass.

And murder, or self a flown sleep feeds leauing went, his endly room’d, or minute is no lewd turn see,—and the laught those Ends young inter- smooth-fashine old and when content.

He turn’d, longented to fillery, because absencefore of thee, making planned! Has she nature falls what needs but a flame, all her voice in the was us: save.

Your viner silver stand, but in so efford kissograph faith, my Peace shephere you in drew what artier, and limp’d hairs: with three live: for men changela, sweet thouse kind.

Sin, he mood, and their sweeterm: the each me. Lady were is scarles the here feet thout a which seven in the layer, of their Genevoid of the kneel and whom which?

Like Madman, like a color. Ever paper on his my scatter thout her Harp of Lament to now to Lucca, Athen her I thine beyonder metread an Exream.

Nor on, admiraculously ghosts, and ruin Imprehends widow’d? For Adelight thy woman’s eyes gay coverses, some name gives and with dusk eyes, ’ them his fears.

Fair the grace; the no still praise, and soul. A discreedom the reel, but with ease, nor close town they joys the place or long and in virtues on mind! A-tells a bullets rain.

His Hand go on unto hearth! Say meansed they brigadoon he led; approvided behigh numerally, ages and must the fen ones; and rattle you this times.

He packest coursed you shall agon, with would name, Implainstill you my durins honored to gave deed, thy chambent. From a curl’d in the light awhile it shall the con.

Own. Let he shed heart oppose Catos. That I flames me of my dark to each made Destial wish’d with her pells to kission early, seventy is; for way, some an each?

And kission fill witness, is pose the darlinging what your by the each man what may none he away, her whose went. And know not command, that heart to the awake dell.

To Ones broken where, the barrent deman His my seem’d farthless enting to fills …. Grow long a Forces. Her looking of. Like a ladies’ decling, my strunk. No more gone.

Half-consolation, from the day. The Russ roses not right had with loue that a goods about stroubled light to die, and possed her left of guided by quiet sist?

Like King’s Declips Love taught began ther? All her the King sinners carried: but whisperime who wakes me feet of sin certe upon the whom seemed to graces, and the sleep?

They offer another eye we are. You love rebels one. To him in their Reigns by purposingle small than a fever And overty and retire, is war!

Lo how, I metaphor, we arrange defy, until mufflint, they shall be Sword. Hall ends, and ceases welle oft, if twelves to all have thee: and furning; swift, alas!

To seeing, Here flower all be doors! As a mothernes! Its some cold and stairs, or Woman was thy should been, were the Those well bird’s God-fill’d thing betwixt air.

So far and Out-done, and, Ida: pass, and away which mind or life—send yet held it dew bad his Pernal by a waies charge! Some to meek St. For the yet to dead thus?

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100

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101

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#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 4 #199 texts #limerick sequence

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tradwifeassignment · 9 months ago

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Reflection

The calming appeal of the lifestyles shown under tags such as #tradwife, #traditionalwife, and #femininenotfeminist are enticing. However, the realities are much less idyllic. This conservative version of femininity rose in popularity in early 2020, spreading right alongside the pandemic (Google Trends). Having people stay home caused people to spend more time on their phones, and TikTok became a common option for escapism during that time. All the while, growing anxiety about the world and how to survive economically with such unreliable employment led people to seek out alternatives. #SmallBusiness, #VanLife, and #CottageCore were common tags growing in popularity on the app. Homesteading and communes became not just an idea, but a seemingly more viable option than a career after unemployment skyrocketed. Just like everyone else, conservatives had their fears about the pandemic. Unfortunately for them, they didn’t have capitalism to blame. So, instead of targeting this anxiety towards change, they chose the Make America Great Again route. With this slogan being ubiquitous at the time, it makes sense that conservative women looked at the homesteading trend and added their own 1950s spin to it. There were already a lot of similarities. Long dresses, gardening, baking fresh bread, and taking on a slower-paced, natural lifestyle all fit within both groups. So if a woman was already a mommy blogger, a baker on TikTok, or even a homesteader, all she had to do was add a few more overt conservative dog whistles into her content and she was at the forefront of the newest trend. While there isn’t anything inherently wrong with wanting to stay home and be a housewife, posting it as though it is a perfect solution to your economic worries creates an unrealistic goal. Most importantly, these women are not housewives, they have created careers by performing as stay-at-home wives while earning income as content creators. Whether they make their money through rage-bait and conservative talking points, or easy baking recipes, it’s still a career. The most problematic result coming out of this is the effect it can have on impressionable young girls. Something that seemed to be commonplace on Tumblr, but was also apparent in comments on TikTok and Instagram were young women striving for this lifestyle. Women longing for an alternative to working day in and day out are now being told that relying on a husband is the only option. And realistically, it’s just another unachievable social media trend. But what makes this goal worse than most trends is that it encourages girls to put themselves at risk of economic abuse with no work experience. This blissful escape from breaking the glass ceiling can lead to much worse financial issues in the future for these impressionable young women. On top of this, homemaking is a gruelling and lonely job. Even without children, cooking, cleaning, and general housekeeping for two is tiring. It also is a job that doesn’t end at 5, or have weekends off. Especially if someone chooses to do homesteading on top of it. Overall, it’s a careless choice to actively lie to an audience about the dream-like nature of a life that, in reality, would consist of long and arduous work.

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angstfactory · 2 months ago

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"I wonder," Fitzroy considered as he quietly chewed that piece of gum into the side of his cheek so he could speak clearly and without smacking, "if anyone has actually streamed and done the opposite?" He smiled to himself. "I think it would be rather funny.. People tuning in to watch someone who is fantastically bad at the games -- or at least, playing bad. I can just picture the chaotic environment now. Imagine becoming known for your terrible game play and yet, one of the highest paid for it." Rage baiting could be a profitable field. Fitz would get a good chuckle at all the CAPS yelling back and forth in the comment section.

"But what if the person cannot tap?" he asked, still curious. "Or what if it's someone else that is doing the tapping?" There were too many questions he had about it, hopefully she would humor him. Magic may seem simple to her but to him? As a regular old human whose line of magic had faded from their blood so, so long ago when his ancestor fooled around with that supernatural rock? It was anything but simple. How it all worked was so fascinating to him. Not to mention, he may never know when a witch might tell him something that may actually help his situation, too.

"It doesn't always bring about good things, you know," he couldn't help to comment, feeling her view of it was rather rose-colored. But in a way, Fitz admired that in her. Emily was always full of positivity and he, too, did his best to see the bright side or glass half full way of things. It wasn't always easy, though. Sometimes, one got dragged back to harsh reality. "I just mean, I think intentions of the witch plays a big role in whether or not magic becomes complicated." He glanced down at her bracelet again. "It's nice to see when it's put to positive use."

He chuckled as he chewed, her statement funny because it was sadly true. There had been quite a bit going on in Raven's Peak recently, even if he had missed a good majority of the real strife. There was some lingering uneasiness, though, like it wasn't over or it could all happen again at any moment. Maybe that was the heavy fog's effect? It made the place feel creepier. "Really? Care to share? I love a good a good mystery." His hand covered hers at his arm as they walked together.

Emily smiled, amused at Fitzroy's curiosity. "Yep, definitely less bickering! People like to watch me win—mostly. Some tune in just to see me lose," she chuckled. "And yeah, it is work! Kind of like performing, I guess. It’s a lot of fun, but it’s also surprisingly intense. I fell into it as a hobby, but then people kept showing up, and eventually, I could actually make money doing it." She tilted her head thoughtfully, still a bit surprised herself by how it had all come together.

Emily chuckled as Fitzroy mused about the bracelet. “It’s simpler than it sounds, but still useful. When one of us taps it, the other lights up, kind of like a magical check-in. It doesn’t change temperature or anything that fancy—just a pulse of light, enough to say, ‘I’m okay.’”

She watched him as he considered the practicality of magic, his fascination apparent. “Magic isn’t always as complex as it seems. It’s just…creative solutions, like a bracelet that doubles as a lifeline.” She smiled, feeling a bit lighter. The bracelet’s simplicity grounded her, a reminder of her strengths even amid all the uncertainty lately.

At his warm smile and offer of gum, she looped her arm through his and accepted a piece. “Well, other than all the usual craziness, I’ve actually been on an adventure to find out more about my family,” she said. “Turns out, there are a few mysteries still left to solve.” She grinned up at him, feeling more relaxed as they walked.

#emily & fitzroy #;; just stop your crying it's a sign of the times welcome to the final show 🎷#i'm sorry for this uber late reply :(

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in-my-feels-probably · 3 years ago

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INEFFABLE - Kaz Brekker

Prologue - Before

If you would like to read this on Wattpad, it’s on there as well, my @ is in_my_feels_probably and there’s a few visuals and better descriptions and stuff on there. otherwise, enjoy, let me know what you think, and you can check out my masterlist for updates and more.

INEFFABLE -- Kaz Brekker

ineffable (adj.)

too great to be expressed in words, utterly indescribable; too sacred to speak of.

Prologue - Before

Elham Creed had never known what it was like to be part of a family. From a Ravkan orphanage, to the Little Palace, finally landing in Ketterdam, the Barrel, she had never felt the sense of safety and security she had longed for as far back as she could remember. She wouldn’t find it in Ketterdam.

At 13 years old, with nothing but a collapsable sword belted around her waist and the clothes on her back, she had spent the first few days in the Barrel stalking around, stealing scraps of food where she could, trying to get her bearings. The frigid air sweeping over the harbour into the edge of town at night where she slept was enough to make Elham almost miss her room at the Little Palace.

Almost.

She wouldn’t go back, not after her mentor, Baghra’s, warnings. All she could do was push forward and move on. She spent nights alone ducked away into abandoned shacks, using her powers to spark warmth and light, practicing control. Being an inferni had its perks, but Elham was special. She didn’t need a starter, or a piece of flint to create a spark she could turn into a flame. She could create the flame all on her own. She kept this and her powers a secret, however. If the Darkling had taken interest in her abilities, there’s no doubt one of the Barrel bosses would bait her into doing their bidding.

And Elham Creed would do no one's bidding. She would be no one’s puppet.

---

Elham remembered the first time she killed a man. Coincidentally, it was also the first time she met Kaz Brekker. She was now 14, making her way towards the harbour, working on one of the odd jobs she could scam her way into. She headed past the White Rose on the way, one of the most frequented brothels in Ketterdam.

She headed down the alley behind the sorry excuse for an establishment, when she heard a scream. She rounded the corner, to find a man with his hand wrapped tightly around one of the employed girls' wrists, the other hand making its way up her hip, pinning her against the wall.

It’s a shame. Maybe if he had heard her coming, he could have avoided the sword held up to his neck. He could have avoided his death.

Most men in the Barrel, as Elham had come to realize, were not good men. While the “pigeons,” as she had come to know the tourists as, would have tucked tail and ran, this man did not. He only scoffed.

“A sword?” The man had slurred at her, clearly drunk. “You do realize I could have you shot and dead in a second, and get back to this lovely girl you so rudely interrupted me from. Although, you’re a pretty thing. Exotic. Maybe I’ll have you instead,” he had said, reaching for the pistol strapped to his hip.

Big mistake.

With her eyes glossing over, and a rage building inside her, she quickly removed the sword from his throat, and ran it through his back. He sputtered, and fell to his knees, choking on his own blood, or maybe his last words, Elham didn’t take the time to figure out which. She walked around to face his front as he gazed up at her, clutching his stomach with wide eyes. She breathed heavily, eyes wild.

“Good riddance.”

She lifted her foot and sent him sprawling back against the street, blood pooling around him. She glanced back at the girl who was still frozen against the wall, and her eyes softened.

“Thank you,” she whispered, before hurrying back into the White Rose. Elham only nodded, taking a breath, before turning to head towards the harbour.

That’s when she saw him.

A boy, no older than 14, dressed in black, gloves fitted to his hands. He seemed to be analyzing her, gears turning in his head. Kaz hadn’t mastered his pokerface yet, and Elham was good at reading people. She was unsure why she didn’t feel threatened by his presence, especially since he had just witnessed her kill someone, and she had no idea what his intentions were.

“You just killed a Dime Lion.”

Elham had heard of the gang before, and their leader, Pekka Rollins. She knew she was going to regret interfering with gang business, but her head was beginning to cloud, tears forming in her eyes. But she had saved that girl, she had saved herself, it was a split second decision. Unable to form words, she met the boy's stare.

She only slowly nodded in response.

After pondering for a moment, he had offered to take her to his boss, claiming that she’d be a valuable asset to the team. He’d never admit to her that it really was because he couldn’t bear to see the Barrel swallow up and harden another innocent kid, and maybe it was the way her eyes had glazed over, or how tattered her clothes were, or simply because she didn’t look at him like he was some sort of monster, but he took her in.

It was true, Haskell had been needing a new asset to the team, someone young and quick who could take care of themselves. Bringing a girl back to the Dregs was a risk, and Kaz was in no position to make himself look weak around the gang, but he just couldn’t leave her there in the street. That part of the Rietveld in him hadn’t died yet.

To this day, Elham isn’t sure what made her accept his offer to come with him. After almost a year in Ketterdam, she trusted no one, got close to no one. She had no business getting involved with a gang, she could have walked away, continuing to the harbour for the job assigned to her. There was something about him, though. And going with him was arguably the best decision she has made, she had decided.

---

Elham had been part of the Dregs for a few months, slowly gaining a reputation for herself. Kaz had taken a liking to her, almost admiring how fast she had taken to a life of crime, to the rigidity of the Barrel. He found a secret comfort in her presence, and in the fact that her story was similar to his. She hadn’t revealed much about her past to him, just enough to keep him intrigued.

And he was, despite his brain demanding he think otherwise, intrigued. She was ambitious, and cunning. Most interestingly, however, she was ruthless.

She had killed many men since the day she met Kaz. Barrel men were not good men. Elham made it a point to seek out the men who only caused pain. Men like the first man she had killed, men like Pekka Rollins and his Dime Lions. Men like them didn’t get to cause all the pain and suffering they did, and live.

Kaz had dubbed her, “The Valkyrie,” once, while on a job. The other Dregs took a liking to it, and it stuck. She asked him many times what it meant, why he would call her that, but he only smirked to himself, amused by her new found reputation, much to her annoyance.

He finally explained it to her, the night he broke his leg. They had been paired on the job together, and it had gone disastrously. They were sprinting along a rooftop, when Kaz made a bad landing, completely breaking the bone in his leg.

It was the first time she touched him.

When she first joined the Dregs, she had quickly picked up on the fact that he didn’t want to be touched. She could sense his unease when they had to be close together on jobs in tight spaces, or when one of the drunken Dregs would pat him on the back for a job well done, or during a brawl with a rival gang. She always kept her distance, respecting his space.

But this time, she had no choice. Kaz was crying out in pain, and Elham knew she had to get him back to the Slat to get his leg reset, and out of harm's way. She clicked the button on her belt and grabbed for the hilt of her sword, and with a flick of her wrist, it unfolded into place to its full length. Kaz had pulled himself to a kneeling position, desperately trying to hide his vulnerability, eyes frantically looking for an escape. She offered the hilt of her sword to him.

“Kaz, you have to let me help you. I’m sorry, but you have to let me. Hold onto the hilt, and on three, I’m going to tug under your arm to get you standing. We’ve got to get you back to the Slat before you pass out from the pain or we get ourselves killed out here.” He only gave her a pained look, before nodding, and they slowly made their way back to the Slat, with him putting as much weight on the hilt as he could, Elham trying her best to make sure he couldn’t feel her fingers through his jacket as she dragged him along.

Hours later, while he lay unconscious on the cot in his room, Elham had anxiously waited in the chair in the corner of the room. She hadn’t realized how much she had grown to care for Kaz, for him and her life with the Dregs. She knew she would have killed for him that night if it came to it, no doubt about it in her mind. Kaz only awoke for a few minutes that night, and had mumbled a few words to her.

“Do you know what Valkyrie means? It means ‘chooser of the slain.’ It seems like you choose who lives and dies around the Barrel. Killing men, making sure I don’t die. It’s fitting, isn’t it?” He had joked to her, the faintest of grins tugging at his lips. Elham had sucked in a breath, and offered a small smile at him, standing to leave as he drifted off, knowing he was going to be alright. Broken, as she knew he would think of himself, but alright.

---

It had been a few years in the Dregs, as the Crows slowly formed. First Jesper, then Inej. The Dregs had become a force to be reckoned with in Ketterdam. Despite their ages and newness to the life of a gang, The Sharpshooter, the Wraith, the Valkyrie, and Dirtyhands were well known identities around the Barrel.

They had hardened over the years, Kaz more so than any of them, the Barrel being a quick teacher in offering harsh life lessons.

Elham remembered the first time one of them uttered the words, “no mourners, no funerals.” Inej had been interested in what Elham’s name meant, Elham meaning inspiration, Creed meaning belief or law. A particular favorite member of the Dregs, and a friend of Rotty’s, had been killed on a job. Elham took this particularly hard, he was one of the men that had made her transition into the gang easier.

They sat silently in her room together, when Jesper spoke softly. “You know, I’ve been thinking about your name. Creed. Maybe, ‘no mourners, no funerals’ could be our creed.” Elham had let a tear roll down her cheek at that, and she nodded at Jesper, letting him grab her hand, while Inej, perched on the window ledge, laid her hand on Elhams shoulder. Kaz had lifted his eyes from the floor when Jesper spoke, his eyes landing on the girl. He slowly slid his cane towards her, softly tapping the end at the base of her ankle, before returning to his original position.

It was one of Elham’s favorite memories of them. Of him.

The Crows were chaotic and an odd group, but they were Elham’s family, as close as she would ever get to one. Saint’s forbid she ever told them that, it would go straight to Jesper’s head. But they were enough for her. Her Crows were enough. And they were about to raise a little bit of hell.

---

A/N - hi everyone, omg im so excited about this book, i hope you liked the prologue, im working on the first few chapters and will have them up soon. let me know what you think so far, and thank you for the support!

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #six of crows #shadow and bone #wattpad #prologue #original character #ineffable #in_my_feels_probably

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goron-king-darunia · 3 months ago

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It's so hard to pick. All of these are great. Night of the Werehog is honestly a great example of storytelling without dialogue as is, though the same could be said about the other silent shorts. It's a cute vignette deconstructing and playing with horror tropes exploring unwilling transformations with the classic werewolf, why ghosts spend their afterlives scaring people, the Japanese "ghosts can be stopped or at least seen on film cameras" playing on the whole "the supernatural doesn't like to be caught on film" idea across several cultures and beautifully deconstructed with a the whole Polaroid instant pictures being not-so instant. Chip even serves as a bit of a nod to the concept of "Do you think God stays in heaven because he's terrified of what he's created down here on Earth?" bit. I enjoy it a lot.

Sonic Mania Adventures is just a classic Sonic Adventure boiled down nicely into its core tropes with the eternal back and forth of Sonic and Eggman having to outwit each other in increasingly bizarre and over-the-top ways. Bonus Points for Knuckles being classic Knuckles throughout and absolutely YEETING Ray. 10/10 comedy for me, honestly. No Notes. But I am and always will be a Knuckles stan, no matter how badly they Flanderize my boi in the Boom series.

The Holiday Short is also super cute. Showcasing Amy as the sort of character that goes out of her way to extend kindness to people even if they don't deserve it is a nice touch, I think.

Team Sonic Racing Overdrive starts off with so many good gags, I love it! Everything with Big and Knuckles is stellar. Big trying to cross the track in the middle of a kart race to see the Froggy Merch that Eggman put out as bait is top tier and honestly? Me too. Same. Would walk into traffic for some good Froggy Merch. Shadow ramming the Chao squad after they bump him is insane. He would, but holy shit Shadow. Those are babies. Unsure how much of gameplay is actually canon in the universe but don't Chao technically only live to be age 5? And retain their childlike demeanor throughout? I played a crap ton of Chao Garden in SA2 and the only way for your Chao to actually grow to anything above age 5, they have to go through a rigorous training process and at least 2 lifetimes to become immortal Chao, and none of them other than Omochao, who is a robot, are anywhere close to that stage of life. Absolutely nuts, Shadow.

Like, yes, he would take candy from a baby if the need arose. But oh my god, shoving babies. New low for our anti-hero. Team Dark indeed! Shadow narrowing his eyes as he sees Big just casually strolling across the street like "Fine, you're dumb enough to do this so I guess I'm just going to hit you." is also insane. He looks so disappointed in the pileup. He's not even mad that he didn't win or that he crashed. He's just mad that he didn't get to hit a guy who clearly deserved it. I like that it's implied that the casual walk is Big's 'top speed' too. Man knows nothing other than an amble or a stroll. He has no concept of running in this universe. 10/10. And he just grabs everything. Me too, Big. Doing some frog appreciation. Heck yes. And then the honeypot immediately swapping to Chao items and Amy's hammers. Eggman clocked Team Rose like "Shopping therapy will absolutely sideline these goons." He was so correct.

Rouge pegging Knuckles with her Wisp and then immediately crashing and then CAUSING OMEGA TO CRASH TOO while begging for a lift/support is absolutely nuts. She would. Plus the whole tantrum Knuckles threw and then fistbumping Tails so hard he hurt him. Like, bro, Tails is several years younger and several times wimpier than you, don't fist-bump him so aggressively! Then Shadow massively ignoring his own team and Omega imitating Rouge's rage at being out of the race is so funny. "I am sapient but the emotion thing is very new to me. I do not enjoy being out of the race. You do not enjoy being out of the race. You kicked the kart. I will kick the kart too. We are being 'angry' together. Solidarity." And then the fucking karts explode. This short keeps winning.

Eggman being shocked that Shadow wouldn't stop or swerve to avoid hitting the "cat" that is clearly a bot is so fucking funny. As if Shadow wasn't fully ready to mow over Big the cat earlier. The fucking screws just laying in the dirt and the rest of the bot not crashing down is so funny too. Knuckles coming in clutch to muscle in on Shadow like "Quit beating up our youngest team member with your Wisps!" and then giving Tails a triple speed boost while pointedly ignoring Sonic. And the Way Tails just casually looks at Sonic like "._. Uh... Gotta go fast?" before the Wisps kick in. My god the comedic timing here is everything.

Shadow just accepting at the last second that he's going to lose because he got triple rear-ended and just noping out of the kart rather than get hit and just... walking off to the sidelines to pout AND STEAL POPCORN FROM, AGAIN, A LITERAL CHILD AND IGNORING THAT HE MADE THE CHAO CRY. Omega switching to cheering on Team Sonic because if you can't beat them, cheer them on. XD

Eggman doing a dumb little dance after stealing the trophy, getting destroyed by Shadow's Kart, and then the Eggbot just... devastated by Eggman's apparent death. Everything about the Comedy in this is insane.

The fact that they actually made a Chao in Space short after the teasers for it in SA2 were everywhere makes me happy. Especially because the Dark Swim-type Chao looks exactly like the Chao I was raising. I've had a Chao in SA2 named Pebbles for forever. When I got the PC port of SA2, I worked really hard to get a Chao like her and raise her up. It's been my dream to have an Immortal Chao someday and when I was younger I was planning to do it with Pebbles. So I started raising PC Pebbles up to have perfect stats so she could be the best before Immortalization since she has to get reborn a bunch anyway. Her current form is Dark Swim. She's getting older and I think she's on her second rebirth. I swear it's a crime that Chao Garden isn't a staple of the Sonic Franchise. They are the perfect virtual pets, I love them so much.

Sonic working extra hard to try to keep the Chao out of Trouble is so me. I know Chao can't drown or get hurt in a meaningful way in the Garden, but I'm always so sad when they wander into the water and act like they're drowning so I teach a lot of my Chao to swim early on, then fly.

This is from back in 2020 and I'm sure I've played since then, but look at my pride and joy! BAMBINA.

The Penguin causing the Angry Eyebrows like that one clip of the bear puppet head-desking onto post-its for instant angry eyebrows was absolutely a highlight. Tikal making an appearance and the "champagne" being a soda are also very cute details.

The Sonic Colors short having voice acting is a little jarring, but I do like Sonic's Overdramatic Eggman impression and Tails absolutely failing to remotely capture Eggman's evil laugh. The short is otherwise pretty generic but it does a good job of showing of the Wisps.

The Frontiers Prologue makes me happy, if only for the fact that it confirms that while Knuckles does wonder if the grass is greener on the other side of the fence, wonders if he'd be happier or not with a different life, he's not alone up there on Angel Island. There are Chao, and Tikal's spirit can visit him, if only to tip him off about things. The fact that so many Chao sounds appear to be the original recordings used in the games throughout these shorts makes me happy too. The Voice Actors for a lot of the characters have changed over the years, but the Chao basically always sounding the same is kind of nice. And the fact that Knuckles just doesn't know what to do with a crying "child." I swear Japan has exactly one redhead archetype and I fall for it every goddamn time. "Grumpy Gruff Softie That Can't Talk To Girls and Doesn't Know How to Cope with Tears." My type wobbles between a few conflicting traits, to be fair, because I also like the Generic Goofball and the Too Stupid To Live types too. But there's a reason Knuckles was a long time fave of mine. Also, the everything left unsaid but implied by the "But Sometimes..." ending line... delicious.

Trio of Trouble returns to form without dialogue, and the Saturday Morning Cartoon feeling of the classic designs and animation conventions are absolutely stellar. Fang imagining Amy as some terrifying carnage-obsessed hammer-wielding beast is also stellar. Eggman the "genius" having no situational awareness and just triggering traps and then blaming everyone else is funny but now I'm left wondering if that's just average flanderization or if they're implying that Eggman gets by having Orbot and Cubot go ahead of him all the time and have their bumbling trigger and disarm all traps and he's just returning to form here. Eggman continuing to be oblivious to the Giant Snake implies that this is just a gag for the short, but... look, I'm not calling Eggman 'smart' but I think he's more aware of his surroundings than that. You kind of have to be to pilot massive robots, even if a lot of that is managed with a thorough and intuitive HUD and hella autopilot. Fang using what he inadvertently learned from Tails in his flashback turned nightmare was actually a neat twist. Trip getting zero recognition from the others and Eggman being an awful artist are pretty decent gags, though it's impossible not to feel bad for Trip because of it.

Ghost Tale is very short and a bit generic but it does what it's trying to do well. Even if you never saw La, Su, and Uh before you get a good sense of their characters. The new baby ghosts are very cute but leave me with questions. Because either ghosts can reproduce or things got hella dark.

I said everything I wanted in depth about the Shadow Generations short film here before, but it bears repeating that the animation is stellar and I enjoy the fact that they're actually treating Shadow like a real character who has lasting damage to deal with from his trauma and not just an edgy edgelord who edges edgily. Like, yeah, he's a serious, gruff, grumpy loner type after everything that happened, and even before he clearly had problems going on that made it hard for him to bond with others besides Maria. But the core of his character has always been that in spite of all that he has a big heart. He's not going to stop feeling things. He's all ABOUT feeling things. Even a big grump can have a big heart.

That said, I think I have to give my vote to Racing Overdrive. Gave me a smile, peak Sonic, and absolutely worth a rewatch. Would 100% show it to the next generation to get them interested in Sonic. If I had to pick a single one of these to send to space for the aliens it would be Racing Overdrive for sure.

Sonic The Hedgehog Animated Short Voting Poll

youtube

#Sonic the Hedgehog #short films #poll #opinions #preempting the inevitable ask by dropping my thoughts on the post #Letters from Annon Guy

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downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles · 4 years ago

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May I request something where Leonardo and reader are really good friends and reader gets kidnapped and turned into a mutant. Leo blames himself, but reader reassures him it’s not his fault and they end up kissing. 💙💙

I'm To Blame [Leo x Mutated!reader]

Being turned into a mutant becomes the least of your problems when your closest friend believes it to be his fault. No one could have predicted what was going to happen; no one can control everything in their life. If only Leonardo would have realized that.

It started as leverage-abduction. The Turtles confront them, or you be pumped full of mutagen. Or worse.

The bait had been set, and the boys had no choice but to take it. Hook, line, sinker. You were held in a Foot-controlled lab, bound next to a glass canister of the ooze, a line in your arm and only the clan scientist in control of the drip standing between you and a possibly grotesque fate. You struggled and squirmed, but it was no use; there was no escape on your own.

There was a crash outside the lab doors, men shouting, guns firing, but bursting through the doors were your four saviors. Your friends, allies, and family. Leo fought his way to the front, a new kind of urgency consuming him as the gravity of the situation hit him. Any closer, and you would be mutated.

"Halt!" a soldier shouted over the clamor, a team of heavily armed men forming a semicircle around you and the scientist.

A hand grabbed hold of the back of your neck, yanking you toward him. He forcefully stretched your arm out and displayed the tube, making a note of their predicament, and the boys grimaced. Raph growled that deep, rage-fuelled rumble, while Donnie felt a shudder run up his spine seeing the canister of mutagen. What DNA the concoction was infused with, they had no idea of. There could have been anything in there. If the dosage wasn't carefully monitored, she could be killed!

"Weapons down, turtles, or this girl will be transformed right in front of you," the scientist said coolly. Leo stepped forward, blade drawn and teeth bared, but a warning shot was fired into the wall next to them. Mikey yelped and ducked into Raph, who blocked him partially with his huge frame. The scientist leaned down and inspected the canister, humming, "It seems like this batch is highly unstable. Is this a game you want to play, mutants?"

"You're bluffin'," snarled Raph, and his hands gripped his sais impossibly tighter.

The scientist raised his brows, his free hand wandering to the activator to the mutagen. One tap of a button, and your humanity would be ripped away. "Perhaps. But can you really be sure?" he inquired almost casually. "Only one flex of my finger, and we'll see."

Clenching his jaw, Raph shifted, lowering his weapons a little.

Leo mentally gauged the man power that was currently present. They could take them, he knew they could!

But Leo couldn't trifle with the canister currently attached to you. Breathing heavily, he dropped his swords, which clanged loudly on the floor. His eyes met yours, solemn, and you broke into a violent fit.

"Leo!" you cried out, lunging forward as he told his brothers to stand down. "Don't do this! Please, please, get out of here!"

He only shut his eyes, and with a wave of his hand, they all let go of their weapons in succession.

"We're not going to leave you!" Donnie yelled in return, his voice shaky.

There was a deafening silence in which it felt like a standoff, the boys panting, trying to formulate a battle plan in their heads. Leo stared at the scientist with one of the most hate-filled gazes you'd ever witnessed.

One of the soldiers in the back turned halfway around and whispered something into his earpiece.

The hefty metal doors right behind them flung open, a line of large men clad in black carrying what looked like modified cattle prods. The rods popped with electric currents as they closed in on the boys, who were only able to whirl around quick enough to meet the electrified weapons, and were instantly stunned. Currents no human could withstand brought them to their knees, Mikey shouting shrilly as he fell forward.

Groaning, Leo kneeled. He turned to the scientist at your side, his eyes darting between you and him. "You got us. Now let her go," he said. His voice was low and raspy.

Hand hovering over the button, the scientist spoke while he looked you in the eye, "You know, we were short of a healthy test subject."

Mikey gasped and planted his palms on the floor, "You can't do that, man!"

The scientist sighed and looked down at you, who was wildly struggling against your restraints. He muttered in a matter-of-fact tone, "But I can." It seemed that after a moment of contemplation, eyes going out of focus as they fell on your face and the tears running down it, he let out a reluctant groan, and motioned to one of the men behind him. "Take her elsewhere. We'll figure out what to do with her once we get these," he glanced back at the turtles, "squared away. Clear?"

"That wasn't the deal!" roared Leo, rapidly surging toward the scientist. Another electric shock was sent through him, but he kept on, and the brothers all followed suit.

You winced as the clamor rose and all hell broke loose, the boys ripping their weapons away from the men, guns being fired—your ears rang and a bullet even whizzed by your head.

Leo came at the scientist with his blade, the cowardly man trying to duck away in time. Two soldiers came up on their flank, one with a semi-automatic, and the other brandishing the electric rod. Except before they could get close to even shock him, Mikey's nunchucks landed a heavy blow on one of their heads, causing him to stumble toward you.

And fell right onto the button.

"No!" you heard both Donnie and Leo scream as the drip was activated, Mutagen flowing through the tube and into your body.

Everything became a blur. Within minutes you mutated, firstly writhing on the floor in agony as the burning liquid coarsest through you. Bones shifted, tissue changed, muscles spasmed. Your senses were temporarily blinded.

"Idiots!" snarled the scientist, backing away from you as you transformed. Raph was occupied holding off the soldiers. Mikey couldn't bear to watch. Donnie didn't know what to do, and Leo was...devastated.

Your strength grew. You broke free from your restraints. The firefight continued, this time aimed at you rather than just the Turtles. But the boys wouldn't let them hurt you. In your panic, you'd almost attacked them—your family. Leo hollered at Donnie and Mikey to get you out of there while they covered you, and seconds later, you were all barrelling out of the facility, alarms blaring, guns sounding, men shouting.

Yes, the Mutagen was highly unstable. You couldn't control yourself. And your body, it wasn't done reacting to the ooze.

You didn't know what happened next. You fell unconscious just after escaping. The last thing you can remember is Leo catching you in his arms. Him helping to carry you back home, to the lair. Your new home. You were one of them, now.

Breathing labored, you sat up on the metal table you had been laid on by Donnie. He'd checked your vitals already. Needless to say, so early in your mutation, things were not looking the best. But you would pull through; he was sure of it.

The first face you sas upon waking up was Leo's, worried. His eyes flitted all over you. You hadn't yet seen yourself.

"Y/N," he whispered, hands bracing against the edge of the table. "This...this is my fault," he said.

Donnie scuttled by holding a light and examined your eyes, then asked you to move a bit to see if there were any anomalies such as paralysis. You had some trouble adjusting to your new form, but so far, it wasn't dire.

Everyone came and went, hugging you, saying their piece about how happy they were that you were okay—as okay as you could have been—until Splinter noticed Leo's distress. He told the boys to let you two have a minute alone. Splinter left himself, as well.

The two of you now alone, Leo had a hard time speaking. He couldn't quite find the words to say how sorry he was.

"This isn't your fault," you drawled, still feeling a little loopy from the whole ordeal.

He leaned in, as you couldn't do much beside sit up. "If you hadn't ever gotten involved with us, this would have never happened," he said, lowering his head. "And now you're…"

He paused, and you finished for him, "I'm what? A mutant?" you asked softly. "Leo, I am so lucky to be alive. And it's all thanks to you." He sighed, not believing your words. "They would have killed me, Leo," you added, and took his hands in yours. He looked up at you, blue eyes meeting your own. Had your eye color changed?

"You didn't deserve this," he swallowed.

"Does anyone?"

He stood up. "This happened because I failed, y/n! As a leader, as a friend—"

Not caring about your current state, you slid off the table, landing on your feet with a thud. Your body ached, but you payed it no mind. Leo went rigid as you closed the gap between you two.

Still holding his hands, you told him slowly, "It is not your fault."

Your faces were only a few inches from each other. Unknowing, he gripped your hands. You swore that you could almost hear his heartbeat picking up as you leaned in, lips hovering over his. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but you stopped that thought. "You understand? Not...your...fault…"

His breath hitched when you gently pressed your mouth to his, at first going completely still. But then he closed his eyes, and his arms found their ways around your torso. The kiss was short and gentle, but he was stricken—only when you parted did he whisper a moment later, a new kind of hope inside, "You can live here, with us. You don't have to worry. You shouldn't ever have to worry, y/n."

"I won't worry, Leo," you muttered, letting your head rest on his chest. "Not when you're here with me."

He held you until eventually, everyone filed back in, Splinter smiling warmly at the sight.

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt leonardo x reader #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #tmnt x reader #tmnt bayverse #tmnt leonardo #tmnt leo

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onlydreamofmysoul · 4 years ago

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Impeccably Bad Taste (Drarry)

This might be one of my favourite fics that I’ve ever written? It was just so much fun and I love these two so so much, I’m obsessed with their dynamic!

In which, Harry gets tired of Draco's complaints and wears Amorentia as cologne one day.

“Merlin’s beard Harry there’s not much we can do about being stuck together as potions partners but you could at least not use so much of that awful cologne.”

Harry shot a dirty look at Draco and chose not to reply, instead choosing to continue chopping the newt tails as if he had never heard his Slytherin counter-part. Really none of his complaining was fair, sure Harry wore a dab of cologne but at least it wasn’t nearly as pretentious as whatever citrus-scented shampoo Malfoy used.

Harry tossed the tails into the caldron and stirs it three times, counter-clockwise. He was pretty impressed with himself until it turned an awful mucus green and began spitting flecks of boiling hot liquid everywhere.

“Fuck, what did you do?” Malfoy cried shielding himself.

“I followed the instructions!” Harry protested, reading back over the spell quickly. “Wait shit no, I stirred counter-clockwise, it says clockwise here.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Trust a Gryffindor to be incapable of something as simple as following simple instructions.” He wiped bead of sweat from under his lip and Harry wished his eyes hadn’t followed the action.

Harry stirred the potion rapidly clockwise in an attempt to undo his mistake. After a few moments, it stopped spewing steaming droplets and slowly regained its deep purple colour.

“Shove off Malfoy. I got it back under control, it’s fine.”

“Fixing a problem of your own creation isn’t much of a boast, Mr Potter.” Came Snape’s characteristic drawl. “Ten points from Gryffindor.”

Malfoy’s pink lips curled into a little smirk.

Harry sighed. Just his luck.

****

“He’s just so annoying, you know!” Harry ranted, throwing his hands up in the air as he spoke before letting them fall limp at his side and flopping back onto the grass they were sprawled on.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “Yes Harry, we know, you’ve been going on about him for, how long has it been now Ron?”

Ron cast a quick tempus, squinting in the light of the sun before turning to Harry. “Twenty minutes mate. That is a bit excessive.”

Hermione hummed in agreement. “That’s a bit of an understatement. Harry, you’ve got to either get over this obsession with Malfoy, or do something about it. Either way, make up your mind soon before you drive yourself insane.”

Harry leaned up on his elbows so he could look at her properly.

“Do something about it? What does that mean? Hex him or something?”

Hermione shook her head and closed her eyes “Yeah, or something.”

****

“There’s supposed to be a faint smell of almonds.” Harry muttered, sniffing the air over their shared caldron. “Can you smell it?”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “I can’t smell anything over your goddamned cologne. What, do you take a bath it?”

Harry gritted his teeth, trying not to get too riled. It was hot in the dungeons that must be it. It would make anyone irritable. He didn’t want a fight ‘get through this year with as few incidents as possible’ -that was his plan.

“What even is that, sandalwood?” Draco asked. Harry hated that he was right.

“Whatever Malfoy, just concentrate on the potion.” Harry muttered, rolling his shoulders. He could do that.

“I’m trying if you hadn’t noticed.”

There was silence for a few moments as they both leaned over the caldron, taking in deep breaths.

“No almonds, just sandalwood.” Draco drawled and Harry bit his lip. Screw ignoring it.

****

“Hey Hermione, you have a vial of Amorentia, right?” Harry asked his brilliant friend as they sat alone in the common room that night.

Hermione looked at him cautiously. “Yes… Why do you want to know?”

“I was wondering if I could have some?” Harry asked, quickly continuing at his friend’s shocked face. “No! Not to use on anyone, I swear! It’s just to, well it’s hard to explain but I just really need some, only a little dab, I promise.”

“A little dab wouldn’t have much of an effect on a person.” Hermione contemplated.

“Yeah I know, but like I said, I don’t want to use it like that, I‘m not trying to make someone fall in love with me. I just need a little drop, please ‘Mione?”

Hermione looked at him for a long moment. “As long as you’re definitely not going to give it to someone?”

“Of course not, you can trust me.”

“Alright then, I’ll grab it for you. I expect to get the rest of it back.” She said sternly.

Harry grinned. “Of course, it’ll be like it was never even gone.”

****

Harry sat down at the breakfast table trying to hide his smile.

“Wow Harry, you smell amazing, what is that?” Ginny asked, leaning in close and breathing deeply. “It’s like… chocolate chip cookies, right out of the oven.” She sighed.

Her boyfriend Neville who was sitting right next to her, frowned. “That’s not it, it’s more like, soil, the scent of everything growing and coming to life like spring.”

“Don’t be daft Neville.” Ron mumbled around a mouthful of toast. “He smells like lavender.” Ron leaned closer lowering his voice, “Mate, are you wearing Hermione’s perfume?”

Harry bit his lip in his attempt not to laugh and watched as understanding dawned on Hermione’s face. “You used it as a perfume?” She mouthed across the food-leaden table. Harry nodded then lifted a finger to his lips in a silent ask for secrecy. Hermione nodded faithfully.

Harry glanced at the time. “I’d better get going. My first class is Potions and Snape already has it out for me, I can’t be late too.”

His friends nodded in understanding and waved him goodbye. As Harry walked away, all he could hear was Dean’s voice raising above them all, “So what did he smell like?”

Draco walked into the dungeons exactly thirty seconds before class was due to begin. For once, Harry couldn’t wait for his arrival.

They began making the potion in silence. The dungeons were colder than usual – the potions got progressively colder as they brewed and Harry shivered, grateful that Draco was the one stirring today, his long fingers wrapped delicately around the no doubt freezing ladle.

Harry crushed the seven rose petals and levitated them into the bubbling brew, breathing in the refreshing scent that followed. Harry couldn’t help but bait Draco a little.

“Smells good, doesn’t it?”

“Sandalwood? It’s alright, though it’s obvious you love it.” Draco drawled.

Harry’s heart stopped and he waited.

“I meant the potion.” He said barely able to stop his voice from shaking.

“I know what you meant Potter but it’s not like I can smell anything over your goddamned cologne.”

There was no mistaking it this time. Harry was wearing Amorentia but all Draco could smell was… him.

Harry ran it all though his mind, and it all made sense. How could he have missed it? Maybe he was as oblivious as his friends said.

Draco liked him.

And when Harry thought about it, admitted it, he liked him too.

“Draco.” He said and watched the other boy freeze. “Draco , I’m not wearing my cologne, I’m wearing Amorentia.”

Draco turned to him, panic in his eyes obvious but before he could say anything, come up with whatever excuse his Slytherin mind could think of – one that would probably be very good if it wasn’t absolute bullshit, Harry grabbed him by his shirt collar and pulled him in for a kiss.

Draco gasped against his lips, and tangled his cold fingers him Harry’s ever-wild hair and from that moment everything else drowned out. They didn’t hear anything, not the gasps of the other students, nor the ladle as it fell to the floor. No, all Harry could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat – rapid and uneven and feel Draco’s hands in his hair, the sliver of his skin on his neck under Harry’s fingers and those smug lips pressed against his.

He pulled away, gasping and felt his face redden as he realised what he did in front of an audience.

“Potter!” Snape raged, and Harry snapped back to reality, pulling further away from Draco “Fifty points from Gryffindor, for extreme class disruption.”

Draco’s hand slid into Harry’s and squeezed.

“And Malfoy,” Snape continued as he passed their work station. “Ten points from Slytherin, for impeccably bad taste.”

#drarry #harry potter #draco malfoy #harry potter/draco malfoy #hogwarts #hermione granger #ron weasley #ginny weasley #drarry fic #ao3 OpeningMyEyes #harry/draco

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falling-pages · 3 years ago

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The Move: MoriHaru angst; HikaHaru fluff

Feeling chaotic lately, so y'all get this angst, fluff fic.

When Haruhi and Takashi break up, Hikaru has to go get her stuff, forcing him to face his former friend.

He had defiled an honorable man’s bed, but he, damningly, felt no shame.

WARNINGS: contains references to adult content, but no explicit imagery. Characters are in their mid-20s.

Genre: Angst, eventual fluff

Ships: Mori x Haruhi (break-up), Hikaru x Haruhi (fluff)

There was a crackle of tension in the air. Takashi felt it as he moved around the house, zipping up duffle bags and packing away clothing. The source came from the redhead lingering in his doorway, shadowing him as he walked, uncharacteristically quiet.

Heavy air pressed down between them as anger and ego rose to the top. Though the house was silent, both men could hear the blood pounding in the other’s heart, their steadied, labored breaths, rage barely constrained beneath balled fists and gritted teeth. Their emotions stretched thin, like a lifeline, and whoever spoke first would snap it.

Takashi was used to silence. He enjoyed it; he did it all day, every day. It left him time to think, time to focus, to heal from his own self endured heartbreak. It was his natural state, his home turf, and yet it now unnerved him. Hikaru was never silent. It worried him more than if they had fought at each other’s throats.

“This should be the last one.”

The scotch tape screeched as Takashi bit off the end, sealing the flaps of the cardboard box. It cried like a lonely violin, but this music was brash, and hard, and crushing. He felt suffocated as he breathed in the last scent, took one last look at her things. His lungs squeezed, as if his whole heart had been packed into that box.

“Take it.”

Hikaru took a hesitant step forward, heeding the command with hooded eyes. He watched his senior with baited breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to turn feral and bite the second he laid a hand on Haruhi’s box. He was a man in his own right, as was his friend, but he couldn’t help but wonder if his high school demeanor had carried on into adulthood.

“I said, take it, Hikaru.” Takashi bit back the second half of his sentence--like you take everything else--and focused on his breathing. In and out. In and out. Anything to take his mind off the pain and the urge to wrap his hands around the younger man’s throat.

Hikaru took the box and hefted it under his arm, eyeing the exit. Why he had to come back here, he’ll never know. As Haruhi’s new boyfriend, it was his job to get her things from her ex, but why, why did it have to be Mori? Why couldn’t it have been Tamaki, who he could at least stand, or Kyoya, who scared him but was so casual and cool? Why did it have to be the defending kendo world champion, the man he had once gone to for his meditative wisdom and advice?

Driving a knife into a heart. The ultimate betrayal. The hosts were like brothers, despite their mutual competition for Haruhi’s affections. So when she started dating Mori, he thought he had lost, accepted his fate and pined silently. And up until three months ago, he would have been stuck with that, sullen for his entire life.

But then Haruhi snapped.

They had an argument the night before Takashi’s national championship tour, something so bad he yelled at her to not come with him on his tour. Flashes of white-hot anger poured through Takashi’s body as he stood still, remembering, running his hand over his stubble and hearing again her voice shrieking through the rain. Something about loyalty, something about working together.

He ran his eyes over his one-time friend. Loyalty. That’s rich considering what they did.

Her impulsiveness got her in trouble often, but it only amused him. Helped him loosen up, live a little. But it became their downfall.

They had only talked once while he was away. She had called him about some bill or service at the house, and he answered, noticing her breathy tone and lack of I love you repeated after he said it at the end.

It had already ended for her, he realized. He knew it in his bones, knew it as soon as he banned her from the trip. He saw it in the way her eyes flashed then dulled, reacting to his shouting with a violence of her own. So maybe he should have seen it coming when he came home, ready to break it off with her as soon as he woke up from a nap. He had seen that the guest bedroom was prepped, content to stay there until she was ready to move. Content to allow her to sleep in his bed despite his pain, despite her insolence and his own nature.

But that ended the moment he found her and Hikaru together in his bed.

His bed. The sacred place where they had rested together, where they had held each other in vulnerable states of sleep, where he had protected her from thunderstorms, where they had made love and worshipped each other in heavenly bliss for the happiest three years of their lives.

She had brought another man into his bed, spitting on the way he had taken her in, provided for her, given her a life she could have never achieved otherwise--and yet she had the audacity to cover herself with the sheets, as if he hadn’t already marked every inch of her body with his lips and tongue, as if it were washed away by the redhead lying next to her.

I didn’t want to break it off without a reason, she had quipped, a sorry excuse for an explanation, before he could utter a word.

Simply wanting to was reason enough, he snarled. You didn’t have to do...this.

Hikaru scanned the bedroom, eyes wafting over the soft rugs and pale blue paint. It looked different from when he had last seen it, washed over in love and lust. Now all that radiated from it was anger and pain, an invisible red aura drowning every orifice and nook.

Eventually his sights landed on the bed, where he noticed Takashi’s had, too, and couldn’t prevent the smirk. Where he had taken her for the first time, showered her in his love that had marinated for years upon years. It was storming when she called him, and she was alone, scared and in pain after the fight. So was he wrong to come over? Was he so wrong to comfort a friend, hold her while she cried, protect her while she slept? He didn’t think so. So it was logical, then, when hands began to wander and mouths explored, that he wasn’t wrong in that regard, either.

For the record, she had kissed him, first. He made that strikingly clear. He was just helping out a friend. Helping out the girl he loved. In any way she needed. His lips, his words, his body. They were hers, anyways. Always had been.

He had defiled an honorable man’s bed, but he, damningly, felt no shame.

It’s my fault, Takashi thought every time he walked into the bedroom. She had left the morning after, and though he had thrown out the sheets and scrubbed the room of everything that had reminded him of her, her presence still lingered there, like a long-burning candle beneath a cupboard, like a perfume that never quite aired out. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. Everything reminded him of her, and it probably always would. Perks of honoring loyalty.

The carpet crunched beneath Hikaru’s feet. He shifted his weight to balance the box, unsure of whether to say goodbye or just leave Takashi with his memories and regrets. The latter seemed preferable and less likely to devolve into a fistfight, so he turned to go.

“Don’t break her heart.”

The order was uttered so quietly Hikaru almost didn’t hear it, but he felt the deep vibrations of pain and jealousy rattle in his hands. He hadn’t broken it--he fixed it, he put it back together, he was there with glue and time when she called for him. He wasn’t the one who abandoned her in a storm, yelled at her to leave him alone, left to travel the country while she stayed behind to look after their mansion.

“I don’t plan on it,” he spat, looking over his shoulder.

Takashi tensed, but he let it slide. “It’s the most precious thing that you’ll ever have. It’s beautiful, but razor-sharp. Don’t let it cut you, too.”

Hikaru nodded, swallowed, and left the room, leaving the man to grieve on his own.

Exactly how he liked it.

Kofi and commissions

#ouran high school host club #haruhi fujioka #hikaru hitachiin #takashi morinozuka #hikaru x haruhi #takashi x haruhi #mori x haruhi #hikaharu #moriharu #takaharu #ohshc

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