#this is from an old/abandoned concept I had awhile ago

[grape-of-agayte]

Tales From An Insomniac Vol . 0 - Rabbitholes

~•~

“They say rabbit warrens can run into the ground forever, although I don’t think that applies to toys.”

~•~

After forcing himself to bury a creepy jack-in-the-box that kept appearing around his new house, the Leporiphobic son of the Merrick family is suddenly greeted by numerous strange tunnel systems appearing in his backyard.

At first fearing a local fluffle had decided to move in uninvited, Tommy is visited by a horror that he couldn’t even begin to imagine. And it looks like it has a special gift for him.

~•~

Viewer beware, you’re in for quite the SCARE! - These limited edition hardback copies of ‘Tales from an Insomniac’ contain some of the CREEPIEST characters and SCARIEST retellings to date!

These strange encounters and near-death standoffs are of limited time and supply, come collect yours before these tall tales are lost to time. Who knows, these mythical monsters might be more fact than fiction..

[asexual-spongebob]

The Waves That Lap The Shore - Chapter 30 - Closing Time

Notes:

I can’t believe this fanfic is actually coming to an end- it feels like just yesterday this was just a concept. Just a thought. Just an idea. Just a drawing. But now here I am, many months later. Posting the last chapter… But don’t worry! Our beloved fish dudes aren’t going to be completely gone after this! I have a feeling I’m still going to think about this AU quite a bit. Who knows, maybe in the future I’ll post some one shots of them. And I know for a fact I’ll probably still make animations or pmvs with them most likely. I have actually made some pmvs of this au already if you’d like to watch them For yourself:) https://m.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLW7sHfzMCSsxyuwvZ9RvFfwjukOMHv1_3

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Hey it’s Shellington! It’s been many years since the “Kwazii was bitten by a cobra”  incident. I still can’t believe that was 11 years ago! 

I’m thankful that he survived!

Now Kwazii’s the captain of the Octopod, Barnacles retired a few years ago and now lives up in the Arctic near Pearl and Bianca. 

Inkling is still here, somehow. Koshi helps ink out in the library. 

Me and Peso are happily married and have been for almost ten years! Our anniversary is coming up. 

Kwazii and Paani and Dashi and Tweak also got married many years ago. 

After the “Kwazii was bitten by cobra” incident Kwazii and Paani found a newborn kitten (which they named Kai, as it means ocean or sea in several languages.) and took her in. Kai is 11 years old and they are quite intelligent, they like watching me do my experiments. 

Me and Peso also have a child  as well, their name is Lucia and they are almost 11 years old, she’s an albino sea otter and I saved her from being eaten by a predator. 

Periwinkle is now in college and is majoring in Marine Biology, we still talk quite often. 

We look back fondly (or… not so fondly) on our adventures (and misadventures) together. 

Like that time Peso got moonstruck and through that party, or our crazy times in the Amazon! Or the time Paani forced us all to watch (or in me and Dashi’s case, rewatch) Invader Zim. We all became fixated in the process-

Anyway. Thanks for reading our story :) 

~ Shellington Sea Otter.

Notes:

Holy shit that was a wild ride. I just want to thank everyone for reading this fic, leaving a comment, leaving kudos, likes or upvoting, it really means the world to me. I genuinely didn’t think so many people would want to read this kind of fic, but boy was I mistaken. I’m honestly very proud of this, this is the first ever long fic I actually finished and didn’t abandon. How I even thought of this AU was I saw my dear friend, Midori’s Octonauts Mermaid AU “Reclaimed By Nature” (which by the way, is a very good fanfic, I’d definitely recommend giving it a read! Especially if you’re a fan of Kwazton and Pearlanca! You can read it here: https://reclaimed-by-nature.carrd.co/) And I thought that was pretty neat. So I wondered to myself “huh… what if I made a H2O x Octonauts AU?” So I started to think of concepts. I had a couple in mind, one of the first being that Shellington would keep the secret much longer (he didn’t even tell Peso for awhile, which he would’ve felt very guilty about) and that he would’ve been very stressed about keeping it hidden from everyone. (Which, was inspired by a merman Lewis h2o AU fic I read, called H2O: A New Tail) Another one I had was basically the same as the first, but Peso would’ve found out sooner, as he would’ve gone after Shellington after got splashed while they were cleaning the beach, and he would’ve found him in the kelp forest. Shell would’ve tried to tell him that it was just a costume but Peso wouldn’t have really bought that so he would’ve told Peso the truth and Peso would’ve been like “it’s okay I still love you :) <3” One of the things I originally planned for this fic was that it’d be short, around 12 or 13 chapters, and that It’d just be about the lives and times of Peso and Shellington after Shellington became a merman. But now here we are, many chapters and scrapped concepts later- I actually even have an AU of this AU, it’s basically where I put all my scrapped concepts (one of the being that Paani was always a merm, I even wrote a short one shot about it, which I’ll probably post sometime soon) I named it “The Sight”. I originally planned for this fic to have 40 chapters, but I realized that many of them were unnecessary, so I scrapped most of them, other then my concept for chapter 35, which I kept and incorporated into chapter 29. Also I might make a story about Kai and Lucia??? If y’all really want that… It’s probably not gonna be anything big, just one shots or something but I mean maybe? If that’s what y’all want? Like I’d be happy to write a short fics on their origin story’s. After this fic, I might write a fic for another Octonauts AU I came up with that ive nicknamed “Invader Kwazii”. It’s an Invader Zim x Octonauts AU where Kwazii is sent to conquer Earth by The Tallest (who are Barnacles and Inkling) because they think he’s worthy of it. And it’s basically the plot of Invader Zim after that, there’s a few differences (like how it takes place in high school) tho, but other then it’s very similar to the plot. It also has Kwazini. It’s a little passion project for me, not to mention I’ve got plenty of ideas of how I want it to go. Another AU of mine I’ve been thinking about writing is my “Vampire Kwazton AU” it’s basically a AU where Shellington is a vampire and it takes place during the early 1990s when Grunge music was the big thing. It’s still a w.i.p but that might be a fic I write in the future, if I do I might just be a ficlet collection or something of the sort. Another fic I have I in mind is for my “Shellinoir” AU. Which will probably be a series of one shots. I came up with it after watching the SpongeBob episode “Squid Noir” which is where I got the title. It’ll likely be just a series of one shots. I also am currently pre writing an Invader Zim AU fanfic, it’s an AU where Dib and Gaz are sirens. I’ve currently got some chapters of it already written, however I want to finish it before I post it. I feel like this fic has taught me a lot and I’m glad.

[beskarhearts]

re: you wanting one shot/blurb ideas: *chanting softly* domestic din, domestic din, domestic-

HOME (DIN DJARIN X READER)

Pairing: Din Djarin x AFAB!reader

Word count: over 1.9K

Warnings: very brief allusion to sexy time (I think that is it but let me know)

Summary: Sometimes home was a person, not just a place.

Notes: Just so you know, I completely ignored events of season 2 because I just wanted these 2 to be happy and we all deserve domestic Din. I hope you enjoyed it and let me know what you think!!

_____________________________

Home had seemed like such a foreign concept to both you and Din for so long. You were aware of its existence but it may as well had been the Force with how confusing of a thought it was to you two. The galaxy was a hard and tough place, one that seemed like you had to fight to get through each day. Din certainly had been handed the short end of the stick as well, having gone through more struggles and travesties than you could count on one hand. In a world that was so brutal and could sometimes be so cruel, how the hell were you to find a home in the midst of it?

But then for some reason, the universe aligned and you had met Din on a fateful day that changed the rest of the course of your life. It took awhile because of the walls you both had up and the lack of trust you had in humanity, but eventually you came to realize something. Sometimes home was a person, not just a place.

So for years you were content with Din, even if that meant living in the Crest with Grogu and traveling from place to place. You had him by your side and that was enough for you - enough for the rest of your life. You wouldn’t mind hopping from planet to planet as long as at the end of the day you could slip into a cot with Din, no matter how tiny or uncomfortable it may had been. And Din the same. Sure the Crest had been a sort of home to him considering how long he had it but it had never felt quite as bright until you were in it. Never had Din felt so settled and content until he felt the warm brush of your fingers against his hair and felt the wave you seemed to mold into his touch, like you were becoming one person. That was also when Din realized home could be a person.

That still didn’t stop you two from hoping though. You couldn’t bare to say it during the day but at night, when you two whispered sweet nothings to each other, you would also make grand plans of a home. Talk about how one day you two would settle down on a sparsely populated planet somewhere with Grogu. Find a small little house and take care of each other for the rest of your days until you were old. Maybe have a couple kids to fill the empty rooms with noise and happiness. You would talk of having a kitchen where you could make meals and teach Din how to cook, both of you eating something other than ration packs or broth on a daily basis. Find a place with some land so Din could step outside without his helmet with no fear and breath in some fresh air, while the child you had both come to love roamed around the tall grass. Din would speak of a bed - a proper bed - where you both could spread out as wide as you wanted (even though you both knew each night would end with you in each other’s arms, trying to get as close as heavenly possible). A place that could properly be decorated for holidays and special occasions, maybe even a big tree for a Life Day.

But all of those had seemed like simple dreams best to be spoken of in the warm confines of each other’s arms. Because things like that didn’t happen for people like you two.

Until they somehow did. Until somehow everything fell in line and you realized it was no longer a dream, but close enough to touch and grasp if you really wanted it. And hell, you both wanted it so badly. So when Din landed the Crest on a planet with warm air and fresh grass and flowers, he knew you would love it. It was meant to just be another pit stop until Din found an abandoned little house in the middle of this field and suddenly he realized everything he wanted was right in front of him. He could let you and the child settle down. You and him could relax and finally make the family you had discussed. It was sitting there right in front of him, like all the beautiful magical intricacies of the galaxy came together to form this perfect little sanctuary for you both.

Din had been so excited to show you that he quite literally ran to you, dragging you and the child with him in the most chipper mood you had ever seen the man. You had playfully teased him for his childlike behavior until your eyes landed on the small house and your heart melted. The look you have Din was not one you needed to explain because he had the same exact one. No words were spoken, no confirmation of what he wanted that place to be for you. You both knew and all you had to do was grab Din’s hand and walk him into the home for him to instantly decide to retire from his life and spend the rest of his days with you on a planet whose name he could barely remember.

The place had not been in the greatest shape. It was old and had clearly been abandoned for long enough that the place fell into a little disarray. But you and Din had certainly faced much worse so you didn’t allow it to scare you away. Instead Din worked on building furniture and fixing holes in the wall, a big smile on his face the whole time because he was constantly being hit with the realization of ‘this is what normal people do’. You had painted the walls with flowers like you could see outside the windows, filling it with more color than Din had ever seen in his life. And once the home was finally finished, equip with a functioning kitchen and the largest bed you had laid your eyes on, you and Din got married.

You could of traveled into the closest town and maybe found someone to officiate it for you, but that felt so conventional and unnecessary. You didn’t need another person to declare your love for each other and make it official. You had only ever needed each other so you both had as traditional of a Mandalorian wedding as you could, a bit difficult due to it being only you two and the very dapper flower boy that had been Grogu (who had managed to eat all the flowers and not throw a single one). Din wore his armor and you wore a small white dress you had made from a set of curtains but you both swore it was the most beautiful the other one had ever looked.

Shortly after you had gotten married, Din had begun to not-so-subtly, in fact very obviously, started dropping hints about kids. There would be times you were sitting on the couch and Din would look around before saying something like, "This house is a little big for just the three of us, don't you think?" Just the other day, Din had gone into the closest town for some supplies and came back not only with food and stuff you needed, but with a plethora of baby clothes that he all claimed were for Grogu (even though they were all obviously way too small for him).

You knew what Din was doing because it was the clearest thing in the world and you were on board. But watching Din drop the most obvious hints and slowly become more flustered the longer you pretended to be oblivious was hilarious to you. But eventually a dam broke and Din just grabbed you and marched towards the bedroom, very loudly stating that it was time to make some babies ASAP to which you responded with a fit of giggles.

And that led you to where you were now. Stood in the middle of your kitchen in your home, looking out the window where you admired the way the sun illuminated the flowers and trees. A warm cup of caf was clutched between your hands, the wonderful scent filling your nostrils as you held it close to your mouth. The home was silent, the child still asleep in his room and you had left Din to sleep in the bed while you snuck out.

The moment you felt a strong pair of arms wrap around your waist and pull you into a broad expanse of warmth, you let out a small content hum. Din's head nuzzled into your neck, his ruffled hair tickling your chin. "Mornin', cyar'ika." Din grumbled, his voice still laced with a type of sleep-drunk tone you adored. His voice in the morning was always your favorite - it seemed to amplify the gruffness and deepness his voice he usually had.

"Morning." you whispered back, feeling your heart flutter when a light kiss was pressed into your neck before he pulled away, grabbing a mug a caf for himself.

You admired his figure, eyes raking up and down in pure adoration. His hair was ruffled and messy from sleep, going in every which way. His eyes were still a little droopy and his whole body still sagged a little. He was wearing a shirt you had given him months ago, one that you were certain he found ridiculously ugly yet he claimed was his favorite because you chose it for him specifically. "Why are you up so early?"

"Wanted to watch the sunrise." you responded, your smile growing as he padded back over to you and planted a kiss on your forehead.

"You look beautiful."

You snorted, giving him a small lopsided smile. "I haven't even brushed my hair yet or washed my face. I am still crusty."

Din smiled, looking down at you with the warm brown eyes you had learned to love. "Well your crust is very sexy."

You threw your head back in laughter that time, shaking your head as he joined in with a slight chuckle. "Din, you are a horrible liar."

"I'm not lying. I love the morning crust. It's cute." he responded back, no hint of sarcasm in his voice but a slight twinkle in his eye.

"Shut up." you huffed, rolling your eyes playfully.

"Y'know, it is actually so sexy that we should probably-"

Din was cut off when the sound of cries began to fill the house, the noise coming straight from Grogu's room. You chuckled when an exasperated expression grew on his face and he placed his cup in your hand. "What were you saying, handsome?"

Din rolled his eyes as your sarcastic remark but you could still see the small quirk on the corner of his lip. "I'll go get him."

"You sure?" you asked.

"Yeah." Din mumbled, heading towards the door to Grogu's room slowly. He turned back to you once last time before opening the door. "Cyar'ika?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

You softly smiled. "I love you too."

Din smiled before opening the door to Grogu's room, slipping inside. Within a couple minutes, the crying died down and was replaced with soft cooing that filled your heart with warmth, accompanied by the sound of Din's soft voice as he spoke to the child. You placed the cups of caf on the counter and then made your way towards the room, thinking how this is exactly what home was supposed to feel like.

[cargopantsman]

Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here

Trigger warnings: All of them, because I am lazy. Also none of this is sensical.

Utter, hyper-caffeinated brain noise.

The problem with the concept of a "sense of self" is it already tries to concretize an amorphous abstract. It makes us want to point at some thing and say "Well... that's me." Whether it is a set of ideals that we try to live by, a set of activities that brings us a sense of joy or fulfillment, or, gods forbid, and entirely different and other person that "completes us."

I've always had an affinity for trickster figures and shapeshifters. The wearers of masks, the truthful liars, the artisans of duality, yada, yada. Since I was a child my first instinct has always been to blend in. If into the background, great, but if need be, if I needed to blend into the social fabric around me, I could do that too. To throw this into the high school backdrop; I wasn't a social butterfly, I was shy as could be, but I got along with the jocks, the goths, the nerds, the art freaks, the band kids, the preps, the whatever. Where ever I was I could fake that I belonged there. I was comfortable drifting in between worlds. (Looking back, I could have caused a lot more chaos with the information I was privy to at the time...[Oh, there's a constant point. I'm good at keeping secrets, keeping confidence. I'll lie my ass off to keep a secret.]) Does any of that really help drive a sense of self though? When your natural instinct is to mirror, to blend, to fade? When your point of pride is walking into a room unnoticed and, even better, leaving a party unseen? Does being a ghost count as an identity?

"Expression of Will" comes to mind... what does that mean? Ok, so some abstract thing is inside of you and you manifest it objectly outwardly. I was an artist. I made images in my head and "kind of" manifest them on paper. Some times people see that paper...  I was a writer... images in my head "became" words and some people saw that. I combined them into comics. Some people Saw that. Is that a lasting affect? Maybe the fights I've been into?! That time in 2nd grade someone was picking on a friend and I laid them out... the time in 8th grade someone was picking on me and clocked them down. Or in high school when someone decided to start some rumors and I held them up by their throat in the air until they turned blue? That was an inward thing that manifested outwardly. Nevermind good or bad, but was any of that... me?

Hmm. The beast. The primal... come back to that later.

"Expression of Will," "Expression of Will," "Expression of Will" ... What the fuck even is "Will"? Is this why philosophers get their heads so far up their ass? Is it a desire? The will to live.... living requires eating and the amount of times I forget to even do that... Maybe been looking at the phrase all wrong...

Will to Live (noun) It isn't a thing.

Will (verb) to (preposition) Live (verb)

Why does that sound better?

Desire to Live (noun)

Desire (verb) to (preposition) Live (verb)

Okay, that feels better even, but still... Sense of self, will, desire, expressions thereof. Are these just the aimless desires and wills? The fleeting flights of frivolous fancies festering forlornly in frontal cortices?

The self with the will can direct the desires towards living. "Get in the fucking robot Shinji!" "I don't wanna"

The (ghost) with the (strength) can direct the (impulses) towards (being). Getting too close to a concept of a soul on that one huh?

Forget self. It's a useless moniker right now. There is no self. It's just this mind alone for the first time in its entire life. (Not alone alone, there are friends, but they've learned more about me in the past two weeks than the past 6 years so...) "What did they learn?" asked the projection of self that defines itself by interactions with other.

I thought we were forgetting self.... not an option really. Sentience is a bitch like that. But they've learned I'll put up with a lot of bullshit under the guise of strength and integrity when I should've callously called this whole thing ages ago. That I can shut myself down completely in the interest of bodily-self preservation. (Not Self-self preservation, fuck the English language). What did I sacrifice? What did I shut down?

Everything.

That is less than helpful.

The Beast. Vince. Your Shadow.

My Shadow...

What do you desire?

Blood in the cut, tears in their eyes, power over someone that wants that power over them...

Do you want that? I don't want it, I just need it. No... I want it.

Is that all you are? A sadist? An animal?

Maybe... probably not though. A caretaker, and a sparring partner. A trickster and a shapeshifter. A crafter whose tools are destruction.

Next problem, grandeur. Mythologizing everything. But how to see a thing if you don't blow it up/magnify it?

You lack a sense of self because no one ever tested your sense of self. No one actually fought you for who you are. To find out who you are. The ex didn't. An old friend did until she got scared by what she found there.

You don't want to be yourself because it's not nice is it? You were raised to be nice.

College. I controlled the group. Never hit anyone after high school aside from set matches in classes or sparring for funsies. They all saw my eyes and stopped if they were getting out of hand.

The Dom-Friend.

Don't use the d-word on me.

Destroyer? Yeah, that one's fine. That one fits. He says as he carelessly tosses lit matches around his entire life. Can we bring up the phoenix or is that too grandiose? Why shouldn't it be grandiose? We spend every day of our lives going through the same kind of tedious bullshit all the time why not make our inner lives a bit bigger, a bit richer?

A bit darker.

Why do you want them to bleed? Hurt and comfort. That's a big theme, a trope if you will. Why not have both at the same? Why not let her think that I'm about to kill her but let her rest in the trust that I won't? Why not let me think that I'm about to break her while believing she is the most precious thing in the world?

Caretaker. A caretaker kills all the time. Tearing out weeds, uprooting the prized plant to move it to a better place for its growth.

Growth.

The self isn't going to be found just in ones self... not in another either. No, the self has to be found in everything. The things one wants to run to and run from. The soul (oops) is formed by what it crashes into right? The mind recoils from traumas races towards panaceas, why not, if one can, flip the polarity on the two. Bring the darkness screaming into the light so you can see it, bring the light quivering into the darkness so it can loose its terrifying brillance. Balance in all things right?

You're not a very positive person, they say. No... I'm not. It lashes out in bad ways sometimes, sure. Control, control, you must learn control. But being negative isn't bad. Not if you can grow from it. No plant can survive the sun for 24 hours. Trees sleep in the winter. We sleep, we heal, we grow.

Self-Destruction!! That's a fun one... seven fucking months downing a bottle of whisky a night. Whooo boy. Do Not Recommend.

Got a nice stay in the underworld though and trudged up a lot of shit. Now I'm sitting here with my ears ringing because I finally hit the personal limit on Monsters and my brain is overclocked enough I can finally see shit at 4 angles at the same time. I am a god damned quantum supercomputer of emotions right now.

Faith and faithlessness are the same thing. Have faith, trust the future, don't expect anything, don't plan your now for your future. Sounds sadly like live in the moment type bullshit, but life is weird and people are complex. Shifting drifting clueless animals that want to be safe but don't want to get stuck in anothers arms even when there is one whose arms are so safe.

The damage runs deep... and two people with damage running that deep. Hmm. How much healing can falling do? The other just puts a bandage over a puncture wound and both try to ignore it, but then the blood gets pumping, the heart pounds and poisons surge to the surface. It's neither one's fault really. Life is a trial of knives and we don't always have time or concern to tend the wounds properly. There's always something else that needs to be taken care of first.

Divorce is a helluva drug. It is maddening, the freedom to finally to be yourself is line having the lineart stripped off, there is a terrifying infinity in front of you and the only thing to do for awhile is melt. Let the slings and arrows just pierce and sink in. Anyone else tries to push the sludge of you into a shape might get hurt when they find the arrows. I want to go absolutely feral in a way. In a way the whole COVID mess is keeping me under lock and key so I'm just prowling around the empty house like I always have been, but now there's some sense... of purpose.

I'm raging against any depression, the executive dysfunction is going to have a talking to. The sense of self is going to be found in stripping this house down to bare walls and making a blank canvas. Bring everything down, ruin it all, start again.

My self is emptiness, it always has been. I can be anything, but I should be wary of ever wanting to be something. (My career options are AWESOME). But this is a different emptiness than before. Before I pulled the trigger and splattered the brains of the marriage across the floor I was just a void, and inky black pit of nothingness. Somehow, having the Shadow rise up and finally start getting along with the rest of me, the emptiness isn't.... void. It's just nascent possibility and that shouldn't scare me.

It does, of course, terrify me. First time in 40 years being legitimately alone is terrifying, should have done this kinda thing when I was 20, but... I was an idiot back then (60 year old me laughs from the future). But I think I can get a grip on the concept that "I" don't exist, but I'm real... ever changing ever dynamic, not who I was while I was married, but a mix of the me before, a angry beast now, and something yet unseen in the future.

[fic-pickyourpoison]

Hey idk if this works for you, as a Drabble prompt. But AU of what would it look like if flevance never got destroyed/poisoned. Like would Lami become a marine spy or would her search for knowledge/her whole deal eventually put her to at odds with the world government.

Oh, I really like this concept! 

I’ve never actually considered this before, so this was a LOT of fun! I also don’t think this counts as a “drabble” since it actually got pretty long, haha. I hope it’s alright.

AU / if they weren’t poisoned/victim of genocide.

.

Lami is ten years old when the perpetual dread; waiting; ticking of the clock finally subsides.

She isn’t sick; Flevance is fine. 

There is difficulty in accepting this. Nightmares haunt her nights as relentlessly as before, whispering soft cruelties into her ears as her mind churns over the peace she has found herself in. Somehow, somehow, this burns worse than the years spent festering over truths that never were. There is difficulty in accepting the fact that she was wrong. So very, heartbreakingly, wrong. And, if she was wrong about this-- how many other things has she been wrong about? How much of her knowledge, if any, can she trust? 

Did she really die, all those years ago? What are these thoughts, memories, and knowledge of things she has no reason to know tucked away in her mind? 

She is safe, but there is something rancid that burns the back of her throat.

Guilt. Fear. Confusion.

( she really was about to give up the lives of thousands for her own selfish needs, wasn’t she? )

.

Lami is eleven when Law, once again, asks why she returns to St. Monroe’s.

She’s not sure she can explain the horrid emotions that suffocate her; the guilt that tears at her flesh and bone in the wake of her heedless and inconsiderate actions, the hysteria that swarms her thoughts and tips her over into another existential crisis as she reconsiders her position in the world and what -who- she is. 

The rage.

How can she look at her parents, knowing that she would have given up their lives without a single protest? 

She can’t. She simply can’t.

So, instead, she smiles and says, “I think I’m starting to like it there.”

.

Lami is twelve years old when Madeline sits her down and explains to her the purpose of the school; that she has been selected by cipher pol.

An anger pierces through her so hot that she can barely even comprehend the torrent of words that spill from her mouth. Madeline sits at her desk with a perfectly manicured expression, and does nothing as Lami storms out of the room. The absolute cruelty of creating child soldiers, spies, like this is disgusting, horrible, inconceivable-- 

Lami returns three days later, and agrees to the contract presented to her-- with the condition that she stays at the school; that she can see her family.

( what better way to sift through the dirty secrets of the government than to become one? )

She choses to ignore the smirk that grows on Madeline’s face.

.

Lami is thirteen when she meets a woman named Li Li; tall, dark haired, with skin the colour of caramel. There is a presence to her that reminds Lami of Madeline, but younger, impatient, and less experienced.

“You are wasted here,” Is the first thing Li Li says to her. 

There is something hungry in her dark eyes; something that Lami does not feel comfortable with. Like Lami is a project, a product, something to gain profit from. She supposes this is not far from the truth-- this is what Lami accepted, after all.

She does not speak her fears, instead Lami tilts her head up and says, “I'll be wasted anywhere I go.”

Li Li snorts, which is not what Lami had intended to do, nor does she understand the humour in the statement. 

“Just you wait,” Li Li says, “you’ll be out of here in a year, Trafalgar.”

.

Lami is fourteen when she realizes that she has haki.

She feels like an idiot.

Li Li laughs at her, but there is nothing kind in it, “You’d be stronger if you just left this place behind. I could teach you how to use it, how to manipulate it.”

“I’m fine.”

.

Lami is fifteen the first time she kisses someone.

It’s messy and tastes like cherry chap stick-- and she’s not sure how, but strands of her hair are stuck between them and she can’t focus on anything but how she can only hear the blood of her heartbeat thundering in her ears. Her limbs feel like concrete, rigid and frozen, despite the fire and electricity that have suddenly burrowed under her skin. She doesn’t know what to do with her hands-- push away? Pull closer? What is she supposed to do with this?

How is this supposed to be enjoyable? She wonders; Lami feels two seconds away from a panic attack. 

The library is silent around them until Lami’s head gently knocks against the roof of the table they are sitting under. There is then movement; their legs untangling from beneath the blanket they are using to stay warm, books falling to the side as Lami suddenly jerks away.

“Sorry,” Rin says. It takes Lami a moment too long to realize that she is apologizing for bumping her head.  

Even in the candlelight, Lami can see the flush in Rin’s cheeks. 

Lami’s not sure why, but words fail to come to mind and she instead says, “Right.”

They stare at each other, silent and uncomfortable before Rin reaches forward and brushes Lami’s hair away from her cheeks and mouth. It is then that the panic suddenly kicks in, unexplainable, illogical and fierce. She needs to go- now, somewhere, away.

“I have-” Lami blurts out, stops, then blurts again as she starts to slip out of the blankets, “--bye.”

“Don’t.” Fingers twine with her own, soft against her own calloused hands, and Lami goes rigid. Rin stares at her with wide eyes, eyelashes casting the most particular and alluring shadows against her cheeks, “You’re graduating soon, won’t you stay? Please?”

Dangerous, is what Lami thinks. 

Sounds cheesy, is what Lami intends on saying. 

Okay, is what Lami ends up breathing out, despite her better judgment.

.

Lami is sixteen when Law turns to her one night and says;

“You seem... happy.”

She blinks at him, taken by surprise. She’s not sure what to make of this assessment.

Law merely offers her a soft look in return, “I’m glad. I was worried, for awhile.”

Thorns manifest in her throat; but no words come out. Instead she looks down, away, then leans into him and rests her head on his shoulder.

.

Lami is twenty-three when she abandons her assignment as a cipher pol agent. 

The Straw Hat crew arrive at Enies Lobby and Lami knows that this is the time to take action; the cogs are in place and the world is about to be flipped on it’s head. She steals away into the government facilities on the island, collecting the files, photos, and evidence that she has slowly accumulated over the years. Lami has thought about this day, has enabled tragedies and pain for this moment.

This world needs change.

She leaves before the buster call; watches from her small, tiny boat as the island goes up into flames.

More lives lost, but she will not let their sacrifices be in vain.

[graphicabyss]

?人 NEWS

I wrote an enormous post, or rather an essay, concerning NEWS, Tegoshi, and everything that went through my mind in the past month. Honestly, it’s mostly my way of coping, getting it out of my system and sorting out my thoughts and feelings. But I decided to also post it here for those who might want to read.

It was a long time coming. The rumours were lurking around for years and a month ago they bloomed. And yet, the full realization is yet to dawn on me. When something devastating happens, our mind tends to shake off the pain by either exonerating the beloved person who hurt us, or blaming them and distancing away from them. It's really hard to stay objective. But I'll try.

Coming into this fandom, I prepared myself for disappointment. Once I was a TVXQ fan. You know, the 5-nin TVXQ that was going to be "together forever" and all that. So I wowed never to get that invested in a pop band. When NEWS came along, I tried not to get too attached. I knew it would hurt me, sooner of later. And for awhile, it worked. But, as years went by, I knew I lost the battle. We humans need to cling to something. Thus, nearly 7 years have passed.

To me, Tegoshi has always been a key component. He was the one that led me to NEWS. Or rather, how pretty he looked in a dress. Tegoshi always kept me interested. Sometimes he excited, sometimes he annoyed, but he was never ever boring. He was made of contradictions, both in words and in actions. Nothing ever adds up with him. He made me want to understand him but I could never quite grasp it. Thinking about it now, perhaps it was because he doesn't really understand himself either.

In these years, I had several crisis points where I considered leaving the fandom, all caused by something shitty Tegoshi said or did. But every time I bounced back. Of course, I didn't do it for him. I did it for myself. However, his selfishness has always been offset by his kindness. The last time was him crying at the end of Neverland tour and how sorry he looked. Till the end, I wanted to believe that his common sense and loyalty won't let him do something reckless and stupid. Yet, here we are. The interview he gave to Bunshun led me to believe that he would do the right thing. He said he would show his gratitude to JE and would definitely make his fans happy but now it's the furthest thing from the truth. The fandom is disappointed, confused, angry.

Some people say to get over it, that Tegoshi was meant to leave or some shit. But I think those people fundamentally misunderstand the heart of the problem. It's not that he left that infuriated the fandom. It's how and when he left. Most fans would support his decision to leave if the transition was done properly. He owed us that much. A proper apology. A proper gratitude. A proper farewell. The announcement had me in disbelief. I expected him to at least finish the contract, do the Story Tour, no matter how long it takes, and show the members, staff and the fans the respect they deserve. To cut it short feels like a violation. At the very least, we need a closure. The last goodbye. The last concert. The last something. He just left JE after 17 years like it was nothing.

More than anything, what he did seems so stupid. He had it so fucking good. He was always in the spotlight, both on stage and in TV shows. The other members did most of the offscreen work allowing him to shine. He was supported by endlessly patient members and staff. He had the freedom to choose and all the work he wanted for each of his passions - ItteQ, Soccer Earth, OpenRec. And he had fans that always supported him, no matter how many scandals he had.

What was so important that he had to give up on all the amazing benefits he had? To betray all this trust? And on top of it, at a time like this? When all world is going through so much shit? When the fans need moral support more than ever? What were the "dreams" that he talked about?

The ability to rant on Twitter? Making duckface selfies? Fucking around? Assembling a shitty rock band? Performing with strippers? Some kind of unique business opportunity? He talked for years about wanting to perform overseas or hosting fan events but right now these things are offlimit anyway. Why couldn't he at the very least explain his decision properly? Just that alone will definitely hurt his further career in the long run. The press-conference lasted 2 hours but it answered none of the questions that really mattered and there was no remorse. Though at this point, I can't trust anything he says anyway. He created his Twitter account the the evening it all went down and didn't bother explaining himself. He just jumped off the ship and let other people deal with the damage.

Even now, it all seems like some kind of bad dream. Then again, all of the 2020 does.

When I first saw "手越退社" trending on Twitter back in May I felt like I was spinning into a downward spiral, like all air was sucked out of me. And it wasn't the "oh, no! what will the band do?" I never went to a NEWS concert and never brought any merch. To me, it wasn't really the feelings of a fan whose band faces a crisis but rather that of an entrepreneur who invested too much money into one asset and watched it plummet.

Fandom stuff is a currency that can devalue in a blink of an eye. Its valuable as long as its core message is intact. This is why I can't stand people being petty over scans or videos. I share when I can knowing it will make someone happy because I know that tomorrow that someone might move on. When I stumble upon old closed journals with password-protected downloads they feel like ancient abandoned temples. The treasures in them turned to dust.

4nin NEWS were based on unity, the combination of 4 unique characters. Four components, each of them essential. Now that concept failed. It's like standing in front of a collapsed building. I try to assess the damage. How much of it can I salvage? Repurpose? How much is lost and needs to be cleaned up? Should I even bother?

What do I do with hundreds of live performances and TV shows, in HD, lovingly downloaded and stored?

What to make of thousands of scans, magazines, pamphlets, almost each image edited and sorted? Thousands more stored neatly in folders, waiting to be posted. Countless screens and gifs.

What of the member ai fanvideos that gained over 100k on Youtube bringing joy to so many people? I already got the first heartbroken comment saying "we won't ever see them like that again, will we?"

What to make of my unfinished stories? Honestly, it's one of the things I'm most proud in my entire life. Now their future is uncertain.

Do I take down the poster on my wall? The CDs on my shelf? Soon I will have to looks at my enormous stash and decide for each item. Things that once brought joy now cause pain.

NEWS weren't selling music, they were selling ideas and dreams. The cute band photos now cause hurt and anger. The uplifting songs about unity won't be convincing. All the concerts lost their charm.

Am I being too dramatic? Probably. Perhaps the issue itself may seem trivial to an outsider but our grief is real.

Tegoshi keeps saying he loves NEWS and adores the members. But to me, loving is doing everything you can to avoid hurting the ones you love. Perhaps he means it, but that love will never compare to the love he has for himself. Despite what he says, I doubt we'll even see them together again and I'm not even sure I want to. I knew apart from Koyashige, the members aren't really that close personally. Tegoshi is shallow and seeks popularity more than anything. I'm sure than now he'll hang out with even shadier characters than before. The members used to provide him with the much needed tough love. Now, with nothing and noone holding him back, he'll give in to his overblown ego.

I'm not sure how I feel about NEWS continuing as 3. I mean, I support their decision and that's probably what most fans want but to me, I don't know if it'll work out that well. They were already a band with a lot of luggage and now, just like in 2011, they are a band that induces pity. They would have to rearrange so much to try and fill this huge gaping hole. Not to mention they will struggle vocally. No songs, no choreography can be unaltered. It might be better to go on within the agency doing their own things. But then that would just mean Tegoshi was indispensable and all the work they put in will be wasted. The Story must be competed.

In the past week I went through various stages of grief. The anger was strong and so was disbelief. Now it's finally subsiding, giving way to acceptance. It won't come soon but I'll let all the emotions run their course. The fact is Tegoshi remains very entertaining and the temptation to keep following him and rant about him is strong. I probably wouldn't even fight it if he were to leave with at least a shred of dignity. But with the way things are, I refuse to support him in any way. And I will at least try to phase him out as much as I can as I realize that even my anger is playing into his hands as he wants nothing more than attention, good or bad. Instead, I'll try to focus on those who do deserve support.

I'm not yet sure how to proceed with the blog and everything else but I'll take my time and figure it out. The truth is Tegoshi was one of the two major things that have kept me here for so long. And no, the second reason is not Shige. It's the people. Out of all the fandoms I've been in over the years this one really felt like home. I met so many amazing people here, even though many of them have since moved on. I felt accepted and appreciated.

This week has been an emotional roller-coaster. But today I feel fine. I have a dozen reasons to be depressed. But I'm not miserable right now because of the fandom. I've had about 10 people write to me within several days. Some of them I haven't talked to in months, some I've never talked to before, and some from other fandoms. They reached out to share their thoughts and feelings, and I appreciate it so much. I felt less alone. I felt a sense of solidarity, a sisterhood. Many agreed with me and it was touching but even more touching were the people who didn't necessarily agree with me and still wanted to hear what I had to say.

Perhaps it's patronizing but I feel like right now the best I can do is stay connected and go through this together. If I can help others, through informing, making someone smile, or supporting emotionally, it's all worth it.

[toshkakoshka]

20 questions tag game tagged by @42wallaby-way-sydney​ (tnk ma)

Name: Wade

Nickname: Weed, Waad, Wód, Wade-y, Baby (I have no idea if this counts but I did in fact list this as something I could be called in my other blog. It’s a Baby Driver ref I promise)

Height: 5′6” idk what that is in cm lmao

Language: English and Tagalog, some Russian and Danish and partly Spanish too, Afrikaans I know but am fluent the least in. Rus, Dan and Spanish are mostly minimal but I know a lot more of Russian enough so I count it as a third language.

Nationality: Filipino

Favorite Season: Wet season. Yes that’s what we call it we literally have T w o seasons 😔

Favorite Flower(s): Roses, chrysanthemums, cherry blossoms, orchids

Favorite Scent: Lavender

Favorite Color(s): Purple, pink, yellow, blue and jade green.

Favorite Animal: Foxes, wolves, dogs, cats, lynxes, sharks

Favorite Fictional Character: John Egbert and Jotaro Kujo/Tenmei Kakyoin

Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate: Tea and hot chocolate, but fuck if I had milk in that coffee I’d down it too.

Average Hours of Sleep: If my body were healthier, it’s normally around 8-13 hours, but at the moment I’m currently within 5-7 hours because I’m a shithead and I really sleep at the wrong times. My body’s been conditioned from school days to sleep Like That so the only solution is to either eat before going to bed or workout.

Dogs or Cats: Both. Even if I’ve always had dogs it’s mostly because my mom doesn’t like cats, I had a kitten that was probably abandoned for a short time but she was so sweet and I regret leaving her alone because we had to go out for awhile. I came back and she left and I am still salty that I didn’t get to see her again. I also have two other kittens in my grandma’s house, this one I named Loki but couldn’t name her siblings because my dog attacked one and the other died already. The other is actually the maid’s (Filipino culture context needed), but I named her Thor and she’s a super sweet kitten that ate with Loki’s mom and she basically welcomed her in. Loki loves getting attention but she’s scratched me because I overstimulated her on accident hNG

How many blankets: One. I prefer mostly one, although pillows I would like to be dumped on me.

Dream Trip: ah fuck. I have so much places, so far it’s Bangkok, Melbourne, Japan (again), Seoul, New York, Florida (mostly for research purposes), Moscow, Nepal, North India (somewhere by the border there but I’m not sure what the areas are), Bali, Qatar, Morocco, Johannesburg, Naples, Oslo, Copenhagen, Montenegro. I probably have a lot more but that’s all from the top of my head lmao.

Blog established: fuckin. 2013? Somewhere along those lines or 2014, possibly. I actually used my main account (since as every mutual knows that this is a sideblog, I talked about this story a while ago but if anybody wants to know they can ask lmao)

Followers: 541. wow I love all of you except the bots. to anybody who sees this how are you?

Random Fact: I write and come up with shit way too fast. Back in my old fandom I came up with like ~30 aus but most of them weren’t written as fics because I didn’t know how or couldn’t really, I wrote one but realized I didn’t do it for me so I quit that one. I developed a lot, though, they were all really fun to write about and some of them were unusual. I already have like 1 Long Fic, ~6 aus for Jojo + an oc part (the unlisted ones are simply concepts and jokes), which I have to credit my friend Joan who I forced her back into relapse since I started watching, because a good majority of them are also made with her and they’re fun as fuck especially when we do stupid shit. I also have a lot of OC universes, so far my whole life since I started writing in grade 6 started at around 10 but ended up continually developing 7, some of the oldest OCs I still have and love are Aiday, Hailey and Chris, all three which have probably my fave concepts in the world especially from Hailey and Chris’s universe.

And I tag: @alexredgrave @iamnotyoshi @hishoushishou @not-so-randomblog @coccinellinae @raccoonskoodilypoopdungeon @davidmasons @lesbibenshapiro @skyblurry and anyone who wants to do it! you don’t have to do it if you don’t wanna, hehe

[hexiva]

Book Reviews

I’m getting back into reading fantasy, getting a bunch of random books out of the library if they look good. I thought I’d post my thoughts on them.

The Tiger at Midnight, by Swati Teerdhala Inspired by the culture of ancient India and Hindu mythology, The Tiger at Midnight by Swati Teerdhala features a cat-and-mouse game of deception and thrills between a rebel assassin and the reluctant young soldier tasked to bring her to justice.

Just finished this one. There were definitely times when I thought I was just going to stop and take it back to the library unread. It’s by no means a terrible book, but in many ways it feels too much like every other YA book I’ve read. I really like the concept of the central romance: it’s an enemy romance, which I love, the characters have a pretty equal power dynamic, and there’s no gross abuse stuff to put me off. It also felt like a gender-reversal of the typical YA dynamics - Esha is like the dark, handsome, conflicted romance hero, and Kunal is like the sweet, repressed heroine. I liked that, and I really liked Esha as a character. Kunal was by no means unsympathetic either. But the relationship between the two of them, which was central to the book, felt really under developed. The narrative informs us that they feel something for each other very early on, when they’ve barely spoken, and continues informing us of their feelings, but I kept wondering . . . why? There were a couple of points where there was a line like “It’s strange that I feel so strongly for him given we barely know each other!” and I feel like, when you find yourself writing a line like that, you should sit back and think a bit about why you felt the need to point this out. It felt like there were opportunities for them to be pushed together and bond, and the book didn’t really capitalize on them - or, rather, acted as if they’d already been pushed together. It felt like it was missing a key moment early on in the book where they bond. There’s a reveal halfway through the book (pg 300 out of 500) that they knew each other as children, but it’s too little too late.

5/10. I’m thinking of picking up her next book because I feel like there’s a lot of potential here and I’d like to read a more polished version of this book.

Akata Warrior, by Nnedi Okorafor A year ago, Sunny Nwazue, an American-born girl Nigerian girl, was inducted into the secret Leopard Society. As she began to develop her magical powers, Sunny learned that she had been chosen to lead a dangerous mission to avert an apocalypse, brought about by the terrifying masquerade, Ekwensu. Now, stronger, feistier, and a bit older, Sunny is studying with her mentor Sugar Cream and struggling to unlock the secrets in her strange Nsibidi book.

Awhile back, I was at SDCC, and I walked by a publisher’s booth, and they handed me the first book in this series, for free! They just gave me a whole book for free! I’ve had this happen before at cons, but it’s usually self-published stuff, or spin-off books of dubious quality. But this is a book that’s perfectly relevant to my interests, a YA fantasy novel with an exciting new setting, and they just gave it to me! What a wonderful thing to have happen.

Anyway, I was hooked, and I got the next book in the series out of the library. I loved it. The woman at the publisher’s booth told me this was “Nigerian Harry Potter,” and I definitely got Harry Potter vibes from it. It honestly took me back to my days reading the original HP books in a way none of JK Rowling’s subsequent books (or the movies) have been able to do. That’s not to say it’s a copy, or anything - this series is way more eager to dig into the big, magical mythical stuff that HP mostly only hinted at, and is conversely much more willing to spend time in the real world and discuss real-world issues. It’s . . . really really good.

Also, as a personal bonus for me, there are multiple cool magical creatures which are arthropods - mythical spiders, cool magic wasps, I just love it.

9/10. My mom stopped reading it halfway through saying “As I get older, I’ve had less patience for books that aren’t very good.” But then again, she never liked Harry Potter as much as I did either, so maybe she just doesn’t get our generation.

Click more for reviews of We Hunt the Flame, Bloodwitch, and The Throne of the Crescent Moon

We Hunt the Flame, by Hafsah Faizal Zafira is the Hunter, disguising herself as a man when she braves the cursed forest of the Arz to feed her people. Nasir is the Prince of Death, assassinating those foolish enough to defy his autocratic father, the king. If Zafira was exposed as a girl, all of her achievements would be rejected; if Nasir displayed his compassion, his father would punish him in the most brutal of ways.

I really wanted to like this book. I’ve been reading a lot of Middle-Eastern history and the thought of a fantasy inspired by that is 100% my jam. But this book is just . . . not that good. It’s not offensively bad, it just feels like the first draft of another, better book. I actually did not finish this book. I gave up and took it back to the library.

The main romance feels very predictable, and honestly, it was giving me big Reylo fanfic vibes. The exposition, of which there is massive amounts, is clumsily delivered. It feels like it ought to be the second book in a series, because there are so many past events being explained all the time.

The one thing I kinda liked was the bits of Arabic in the book, and the choice to not exposit the Arabic bits on top of the fantasy bits. And I learned a new Arabic word from this book! That’s a positive.

3/10. Wish they’d spent more time on the editing.

Bloodwitch, by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes (and its sequel, Bloodkin) Vance Ehecatl was raised with every luxury he could imagine in a beautiful greenhouse within the powerful empire of Midnight. Vampires are the only guardians Vance has ever known since he was abandoned by his shapeshifter family as a baby quetzal, and he is grateful to them for generously providing for all of his needs. When an act of violence forces Vance from his sheltered home, he is startled to meet Malachi Obsidian, a fellow shapeshifter with conflicting ideas about Midnight and its leader, Mistress Jeshickah.

This is a new book from an author I loved as a child. Atwater-Rhodes published her first book at 14, when I was four, and I came across her books when I was 11ish and first learning to write. Her book Hawksong was the first romance story I really enjoyed, and its sequel Wolfcry was one of the first times I ever encountered a queer romance in a fantasy novel, at a time I was starting to wonder whether I was queer.

This book still caught the same interest I had in her books all those years ago. Bloodwitch is set in the same world as Hawksong, but centuries later. Personally, I would have preferred a book set in the same timeline, but it was still great to return to this world and its conflicts and magic.

With that said, it wasn’t perfect, and this wasn’t one of those times where I returned to an old favorite author and was like “Oh my god, I never appreciated what a genius she was when I was a stupid kid!” I was particularly struck by Vance’s character arc in the first book, which felt uneven. Vance is raised by the villains, and believes they’re the good guys initially. And then, early in the book, one of them kills his friend in cold blood, shouts at him, tries to kill him, and chases him out of their stronghold. And then . . . he goes back to them, and there’s ANOTHER, separate moment where he suddenly realizes they don’t care about him and turns on them. I really didn’t understand why that first moment didn’t shake his loyalty, but the second one did.

I was also kind of disappointed by the lack of queer characters. A lot of my favorite straight authors, when I checked back in on their work in 2019, have included queer representation, and because I knew that Atwater-Rhodes is herself queer, I was really hoping for some of That Gay Shit.

7/10. Give me that gay shit, Atwater-Rhodes, I know you’re holding out on me.

The Throne of the Crescent Moon, by Saladin Ahmed The Crescent Moon Kingdoms, home to djenn and ghuls, holy warriors and heretics, are at the boiling point of a power struggle between the iron-fisted Khalif and the mysterious master thief known as the Falcon Prince. In the midst of this brewing rebellion a series of brutal supernatural murders strikes at the heart of the Kingdoms. It is up to a handful of heroes to learn the truth behind these killings.

This, this was the book I wanted when I picked up We Hunt the Flame. This is the quality content I want in my fantasy novel. I fell in love with the main character, Adoulla, almost immediately, and I was terrified he was going to die. I just love this prissy, hedonistic, idealistic, middle-aged, fat hero so much, and I will RIOT if Ahmed kills him off.

I liked the other older characters in this book a lot too. Ahmed clearly has a knack for making cool characters. Dawoud and Litaz are cranky old ex-adventurers. Adoulla’s love interest is a middle-aged sex worker who really wants him to commit and marry her or fuck off, and I am so rooting for them, I want them to live happily ever after, they deserve that.

The treatment of sex work and sex worker characters in this book is also a major plus. There’s a lot of moral ambiguity in this book, where I’m not sure which character we’re supposed to believe, but the one issue the book takes a firm stance on is DON’T BE AN ASSHOLE TO SEX WORKERS, THEY ARE PEOPLE TOO. This book is written by a man and is not the kind of feminist fantasy I read a lot of (like We Hunt the Flame and The Tiger at Midnight are) so I was pleasantly surprised by this strong pro-sex worker’s rights message.

On the downside, I did feel like the younger characters were less interesting than the older characters. They still felt like colorful, detailed characters drawn with a skillful hand, but they also felt much closer to the kind of characters you usually see front and center in a fantasy novel. What I loved about Adoulla and company is that you don’t often see fantasy heroes who are fat and old and tired. The romance between the two younger heroes is competently drawn and believable but I did find myself wishing the camera would pan away from them and go back to the cool characters.

Other notes:

I found out that Saladin Ahmed is a Marvel Comics writer and is writing a comic about my favorite superhero, Ms Marvel, and I couldn’t be happier with that news.

I was certain, reading this book, that Ahmed plays D&D and that this book was inspired by D&D, and HA, CALLED IT. My nerd-dar is ON POINT.

9/10. Adoulla is my dad now, no take-backsies.

[nerdsies]

Goodbye From the Refuge

[floraltrousers]

angelic-dust-bunnies replied to your post “does anyone want to listen to me ramble about my dumb angel oc whos as...”

*loudly raises hand*

id die for you

tw for a drug addiction mention towards the end

anyways fucking buckle up because i went slightly overboard but i just rly rly love this goofy little angel

okay basically their name is penemphriel, yeah, it’s extra, they just go by pen usually because that’s a mouthful

they’re almost as old as time itself (a couple million years give or take) so like, they’ve been around the block, but they were absolutely fascinated with the renaissance while it was going down and they’ve always ALWAYS loved art and they just thought the renaissance was!! so lovely!! they were in italy at the time so they just spent a shit ton of time admiring the masters from afar, michelangelo in particular. and like kfdvndfv they were celibate and not?? interested in romance really??? and also like at this point they haven’t had much character growth they’re very much still uptight and righteous so they don’t. want things for themself very often. but they loved michelangelo--and they weren’t really aware of it. like yeah they loved watching him paint and chisel away at marble and thought his hands were so so beautiful

ie;

“Penemphriel wholeheartedly believes that Michelangelo’s hands are miracles; that God himself has kissed them to bless them with this miraculous power of creation. Michelangelo makes beautiful things, and Penemphriel cannot help but be smitten with these things entirely. The frescoes, the sculptures, the murals. Penemphriel’s eyes devour all of these things and somehow still want more.”

BUT ITS JUST ADMIRATION OF THE TALENT--

anyways fjnvdkfv they’re really out of touch with like the whole concept of romantic attraction because as far as they’re concerned it’s not...something they’re going to experience. so they just like straight up don’t realize they’re in love with michelangelo and then he dies and so does the renaissance and pen’s gotta keep on trucking.

also a fun thing in their story is their wings are stolen from them by this asshole demon named vesuvius who sells angel wings and similar wares on the demonic black market. and then things get sort of sad and interesting; they find a home with a heroin addict named roman soon after their wings are stolen and help roman on the recovery from that, becoming really good friends along the way--pen sees them like a little sibling almost.

eventually they fall in love with a demon (different demon tho) and find out that god abandoned the world awhile ago. also they befriend an extremely crotchety old catholic woman named edith williams who purposefully fucks up their demon boyfriend’s name because she thinks he’s a rat bastard and penemphriel spoils him rotten. pen thinks he’s pretty great though so she puts up with it (she likes him she just won’t admit it)

also something fun about pen is they always have a bible and a rosary on them and they have a little paper tucked behind the front cover of their bible where they write their favorite bible puns

[kohakuarisaka]

I LOVE ASKING PEOPLE ABOUT THEIR OC, so any funfact about Kohaku? And— have you ever post the visual/how she looks like? Her hobby? Favourite food?— Idk, just tell me anything about her 😭���💕

I missed the alert for this ask, so I didn't see it until now. Sorry T^T ♥ ♥ and thank you for the ask about my OC!

I did post a drawing awhile ago, but I'm a terrible artist and not particularly proud of my "art". Plus, the drawing was based on an old concept that I abandoned (the exterior fangs).

Basically, bright red hair, milky white eyes, scars and freckles, long, thick nails, fangs, and a modern ninja aesthetic. She takes very much after her mother, who is a famous villain (think the same level as Stain).

I've been meaning to commission someone to draw her and their children... Someday, maybe.

Kohaku pretty much drowns herself in work. She likes collecting old swords and loves the smell of a whetstone. Rice was the first thing fed to her after she was rescued from her villain family, and it was the first time she ever had it, so it’s special to her, and she pretty much lives off it. Always makes rice balls and shares them with Hawks.

She has a very similar backstory to Hawks, except she can’t hide it like he can. So, she tends to be more of a vigilante than a hero. Hawks’ Agency is able to give her proper work, but she doesn’t usually get credited for it, not that she minds. She typically takes on the dirty work that doesn’t make the paper, stuff that “mainstream” heroes don’t wanna deal with.

[michael-hearteyes-wheeler]

Bad Brains

[1] [2] [3]

Chapter 4: At War with Myself.

(AO3) (FFnet)

November 15th, 1987

When El said goodbye to her old life, she had left everything behind and not looked back. She thought she could just drop everything and start over, with a new family, in a new town, at a new school, and a new outlook. She was right for the most part, but one thing she didn't account for were the nightmares.

God the nightmares.

It was like her own brain was betraying her. Every night she would go to sleep and be forced to relieve everything that she had gone through. Being passed around from home to home, every abusive foster parents, every meal she missed, every time she had been abandoned and left alone to fend for herself.

She lost count, after awhile, of all of the people and places she had met. All of their faces began to blur together into one ugly scowl of resentment and hatred. And in her dreams that same face taunted her, and chased her, and made her feel like the scum of the earth. She heard their voices, telling her that she wasn't good enough, that no one would ever love her. That she was doomed to spend her life unwanted and forgotten about.

These dreams always put her in a haze for the days that followed. Like a black cloud of self hatred and fear that she couldn't escape. The Therapist Hop made her see had told her it was normal, and that after a while it would go away, but that didn't make it any easier.

One more than one occasion her sobbing had woken Hopper up from his room down the hall,  he always tried his best to console her, but some things are just too painful to leave in the past, they just haunt you forever.

Tonight was different though. Instead of being woken up by her adoptive father gently holding her and telling her it would be okay, she woke up to complete and utter silence. She jolted upright, and tried to listen for the sounds of Hoppers breathing down the hallway, but there was nothing. No TV downstairs, no shuffling in the kitchen, no footsteps in the bathroom. It was strange, and unsettling, and it was far too reminiscent of all of the times this had happened in the past.

Waking up alone in a house you barely recognize, with no one around to hold you.

She swung her legs out from under her thick quilt into the cool night air. She tiptoed across her room and opened the door, not wanting to make a sound. She made her way to the staircase and listened hard for the usual sounds of the TV blaring some late night talk show below, but there was only silence in reply. She took a deep breath and descended the stairs.

She felt the breath leave her body when she saw his keys were still hanging up on the tiny hook next to his hat. He’s still here. She walked into the living room.

She could see his outline, wrapped in pulsing blue light from the TV screen. He was sitting in his usual chair, but instead of watching the program, he had set it on silent, and he was resting his head in his hand, the way he did when he was upset.

“Hop?” She said after a few seconds. Her voice so hoarse it was hardly more than a whisper.

Jim didn't say anything, instead he just stuck his arm out and waved El over. She complied, rounding his chair to face him. He had been crying, his skin was red and puffy and his eyes were badly bloodshot. She had never seen him cry before, he was always so strong.

“What's wrong?” Her own voice caught in her throat as if she had been the one crying.

He said nothing again, but he pulled her into a bear hug, holding her tightly as she curled into his lap. It was strange, but it also felt completely necessary. No one had held her, or hugged her, or cradled her in years, but it was something she didn't know she needed until tears started rolling down her cheeks.

They stayed that way for a long time. Both silent, the only noise spilling quietly from the TV in the corner. Jim rubbed her head, her hair was a mess of loose curls from her shower the night before. It was rare that she didn't have them slicked back and he always messed with them when he got the chance.

“I hope you know that I care about you more than anyone else in the world.” He finally said. His voice even more gravely than usual.

She pulled away from the hug to look at him, for the first time, finally seeing what he looked like when he cried. She could hear the sincerity in his voice, and read it in his eyes, but it was hard for her accept. “Why?” It was the only thing she could think to say.

“Because you needed someone to take care of you. Because you were all alone but you still acted so tough” He chuckled despite his tears. “And because while I thought I was just doing my job, just doing the right thing, I needed someone to take care of. I needed a reason to be a better person.” His voice was full of guilt and remorse. He sounded so vulnerable compared to how calloused he usually was.

With that she started crying harder. Her small frame shaking with her sobs. He hugged her closer and rocked her gently the way he used to with his own daughter.

“I just hope you know how much I love you, Kid. Even if it takes you the rest of your life to believe. I love you.”

El hugged her father tighter. His words were hard to swallow, because not long ago she wouldn't have been able to believe him. But now that they were all each other had, she knew she had to start the process of forgiving herself for all of the things she blamed herself for, and move on. When everyone leaves you, you start to assume it's your fault, but Jim never let her think for a second that it was.

“I know Jim. I love you too.”

November 20th, 1987

The next week flew by.

Max’s evil plan had gone off without a hitch. Thompson cancelled his classes for two days while he and the janitor cleaned up the mess. They had no leads as to who the perpetrators were because, after all, he was the most hated teacher in school.

Max and El started spending more and more time with the Geek Team, or the ‘Party’ as they called it. Max, Dustin and Lucas formed an unlikely bond and hung out almost every chance they got. They often rode around together, the boys on their bikes and Max on her board, to the arcade after school. Rumor has it that Max even went with them to the library one day so Dustin could show her his favorite book about the history of practical jokes.

El and Will bonded pretty quickly too. It turns out that little Byers had a pretty expansive music taste.

“I should have known!” El had told Will after finding his The Clash mix in his backpack. “Jonathan complimented me on my Talking Heads shirt on the first day of school. He was like the first person to ever talk to me here.”

Then began a daily routine of gushing over new albums and songs, and debating the merits of one band over another. They made each other mixtapes and often walked to and from the classes they shared, squishing their heads together to listen to Els dinky headphones.

The only one who seemed out of place was Mike. Ever since Max told him the way El felt, a concept he still had trouble believing, he found it really hard to be around with her without turning into a big dope. He was almost jealous of Wills connection with her, but ultimately he was just happy Will had found someone he had so much in common with.

It was a grouping that rattled the entire High School social ladder. Could scary punk girls really be friends with scrawny nerds? Could brainiacs really stand hanging around cigarette smoking, thick-skulled, freaks? It was weird, that was for sure, but it didn't really start to freak anyone out until the first day that they all sat together at lunch.

“Holy shit are they coming to eat with us!?” Dustin spat as the two girls, lunch trays in hand, slowly made their way across the cafeteria.

“Why wouldn't they? They are our friends aren't they?” Mike said, pushing his gross mushy peas around on the plastic tray.

“Well yeah! But sitting with someone at lunch is a way bigger deal than just hanging out in between classes. Once you eat lunch with someone you are socially cemented together for life!”

“Stop being so dramatic.” Lucas flicked Dustin's ear. “I'm just glad they aren't eating out behind the dumpster like usual. That's what’s weird.”

The girls walked over, faining obliviousness to the blatant stairs from around the room, and plopped down at the boys table. Max taking a seat next to Lucas, and El squeezing herself in between Will and Mike.

“So what are we doing today?” Max said with a mouthful of bread.

“What do you mean?” Will asked.

“Its friday, as in the weekend, as in no school so we need to do something fun.”

“We could go to the arcade!” Lucas chimed.

“Ugh no we do that like everyday and i'm out of money.” Max groaned. The other boys nodded and mumbled something about being broke too.

“Okay well... We could go to the library.” Dustin contemplated.

“I mean I guess, but that hardly sounds like an exciting weekend.” Max rolled her eyes.

Mike thought about all of the things that might be fun to do, but he figured that most of them were too dorky for El and Max to want to be a part of. He looked over at El and watched her passively stab at her food. Mostly just mixing it around rather than eating it.

“Everything okay?” He asked her quietly. It's not like the other could hear over Dustin and Max’s bickering anyway.

“Huh?” She looked up at him, suddenly snapped back to reality. “Oh yeah. Everything is fine I just... i'm failing geometry and my dad is totally going to freak out on me. Mrs. Lawrence asked me to stay after class and everything. I doubt i'll be able to do anything this weekend.”

“Oh that really sucks.” He mused. Mike had never failed anything in his life, and he could only imagine the wrath of his mother if he ever did. He had always enjoyed math in all of its forms, he excelled at it. He was even Mrs. Lawrence's star pupil, a title that earned him a lot of torment.

“Are you hearing this shit El!?” Max hollered from across the table. El jumped from the startle of being yelled at and looked up. “They told me there is a cool junk yard on a hill! It has a bunch of old broken down cars and TV’s and stuff!”

“That sounds cool.” El smiled with a slight nod. “But I don't think I can hang out today.”

“Well your loss then, i'm totally going to smash in some windows.” Max high-fived Dustin and Lucas and they planned their entire trip.

The rest of the day went by in a fog for El. The emotional interaction she had with Hopper just a few days before had put her in a weird headspace. She really was learning to love him, even if it terrified her. He was goofy, and protective, and above all else he was trying. So she wanted to try too.

El had always been great with anything English related. When she didn't have anyone to play with or talk to, books became her best friends. So while she had an A in English Lit., and in her creative writing class, math was another story. She hated it. Numbers made no sense to her. Not the way words did. But, she had promised herself to stay out of detention, and to get her grades up, and if that meant suffering through after school study sessions with her teacher then so be it.

After her final class of the day, she made the long walk of shame back to Mrs. Lawrence's classroom and waved goodbye to Max, Dustin, and Lucas who were all going off to the junkyard.

“Good afternoon Ms. Hopper.” Lawrence said from behind her romance novel. “Why don't you take a seat while we wait for your tutor to arrive.”

“Tutor?” El gaped. Her heart started racing at the thought of having to spend the next three hours with some asshole, mouth breathing, brainiac who would no doubt belittle and talk down to her the entire time.

“Yes dear. Here he comes now.”

El swiveled around to watch her dreaded mentor walk through. But instead of some rude, gossipy stranger it none other than;

“Mike!?” Els mouth fell open, and then turned into a wide grin. Three hours alone with Mike in the quiet library? That didn't sound too bad at all.

“Mr. Wheeler has the highest grade of all my students” Mrs. Lawrence beamed, standing up from her desk with a stack of papers that she handed to Mike. “This is everything Ms. Jane needs to get caught up on. I know its a lot but if anyone can help her it's you.”

“Yeah no problem, it's my pleasure.” Mike smiled coyly at El and she blushed.

The two of them walked slowly toward the schools library where a couple of other students were studying. It was mostly empty and really quite. They found a private corner with two cozy chairs and a small table between them and set up the stacks of papers, sharp pencils, and textbooks. El and Mike couldn't stop stealing quick glances at each other.

El pulled her legs up into her chair so she was criss-cross, and leaning over her hardly used textbook. Mike noticed the tiny doodles all over the tips of her converse, and the way she nervously picked at her chipped black nail polish. When Mrs. Lawrence had asked him to tutor someone after school he had practically jumped out of his skin, knowing it would be El. And now he got to watch the way her nose wrinkled in confusion at problems she didn't understand, and the way she rubbed the bridge of her nose the way he had seen Chief Hopper do whenever he had to come to the school to break up a fight.

“So...” Mike started, remembering a key piece of information that Mrs. Lawrence had told him. El looked up, her doe eyes expectant. “Jane?”

El's wide eyes somehow shot open wider and her mouth dropped open into a half surprised, half smiling, glare. “Do not call me that!” She slammed her textbook closed and pointed a finger at him. He couldn't help but laugh.

“Why not? Jane is a good name.” He snickered.

“Oh my god no its not! It's a name for a grandma!” She rubbed her temples. “I haven't gone by Jane since I was like 6. It's not me.”

“Well where does El come from then?”

“It was a nickname an old friend gave me a long time ago. Its short for Eleven.” She shrugged, her cheeks turning a brilliant shade of pink. Eleven had been her bed number at the massive foster home she stayed at. Everyone called each other by their bed numbers, or their home cities. Keeping a level of unfamiliarity between each other, because they knew nothing was permanent.

“Eleven? Like the number?” His nose crinkled in confusion.

“Its... kind of a long story.” El's smile faded as she glanced at her shoes.

“Well I think Jane is cute.” He smiled at her. His freckles rising and falling on his cheeks.

El's heart constricted and her stomach twisted itself into little buzzing knots, and just like that, she was grinning again. He was so nice, and sweet, and adorable! It made her feel like her protective walls were coming down and it horrified her.

‘God I am such a sucker.’

He was still staring at her and her heart only beat faster.

‘Shit what would Max do? What would Max say? Max wouldn't be a little coward.’

“Well I think you're cute.” She said, turning her nose up just slightly the way Max always did. Mikes eyes flew open and now it was hit turn to redden and bury his face in his hands.

“Lets... lets just study okay?” He said under his breath with an embarrassed grin.

El opened her book again and they started tackling one assignment after another. Mike really was great at geometry, and he was even good at explaining it in a way that made sense. A couple of times he had shifted to the very edge of his seat so that their knees were touching. He would lean over the book in her lap and point to various problems on the page and simplify them for her. She loved watching the way he pushed up the sleeves of his long polo when he got invested in explaining a problem, and the way he bit his lips when he focused. She was actually having fun while learning!

Every time she looked up from her notes, the sight of him made her head swim. She couldn't quite figure it out. Why did he make her feel this way? It was all so new and unfamiliar. They had very little in common, at least from what she knew about him, and if it weren't for Lucas and Dustin wanting to be daredevils all of the sudden then they would never have hung out in the first place. Mike was painfully dorky, and painfully different than anyone El had ever imagined herself being with, and yet she imagined being with him all the time. What was it about him that drew her in?

For Mike it was much of the same. El was definitely the last person he ever expected to be making heart-eyes at in the Library. She certainly wasn't the type of girl that his parents would want him bringing home (although they would probably be happy with him bringing any girl home). But everything about her fascinated him. At first it seemed like maybe it was just the fact that she was the first girl to ever really talk to him, or laugh at his jokes, or invite him to hang out. He assumed it would wear off and she would become just his good friend the way Max was, but the longer they spent time together the more intense his feelings became. Suddenly it was like everything she did filled him with fascination and adoration.

She was a mystery that he wanted to solve. He closed his book and stretched, feeling a bit stiff from leaning over his notes for so long.

“El?” He asked tentatively, wanting to get to the bottom of at least some part of all this. She looked up at him curiously with those warm doe eyes of hers. “What... what is your deal?” He wasn't really sure how to put it, but he knew that that probably wasn't it.

“My deal?” El asked raising her eyebrows and looking somewhat offended.

“Shit I didn't mean it like that... I just mean like...” He thought for a second, wanting to find better words this time. “I have just never met anyone like you before, and I never thought someone like you would want to talk to someone like me, let alone hang out with me. And I have never been to Chicago so I don't know what people look like or act like there but you are just so different from what I thought you would be.” By the end of his speech he was mumbling and speeding through his words.

El laughed and closed her book. “Haven't you ever heard the saying ‘Don't Judge a book by its cover?’ She waved her textbook at him. She was still smiling, so that was a good sign, wasn't it?

“Well yeah of course I have I just mean-”

“You just mean that you thought I was going to be some angry, bitter, feminist, psycho who would rather kick your teeth than be seen talking to a nerd.” El interrupted, still smiling but also still completely dejected.

“No no not at all!” Mike back-peddled. El raised her eyebrows and he caved. “Okay yeah maybe a little.”

“Well there are a lot of things you don't know about me.” El crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “I might be a little bitter, and a little angry but you would be too if you had seen the things that I have seen. But i'm not mean, at least not to people who don't deserve it.”

Mike felt like an idiot. “You're right. I don't really know anything about you, but I would like too.”

She eyed him carefully. He was getting way too close for comfort with her emotions. “We are just from completely different planets okay? You wouldn't get it.”

Now it Mikes turn to be offended. He may not share her experiences but he considered himself a fairly empathetic person. “You don't know that I wouldn't get it. There is a lot you don't know about me either.”

“Let's see about that.” El snorted, sitting forward to look directly at him. “I'll bet your parents are still together, and super in love. I bet your dad has a good job and makes a ton of money so your mom gets to stay home all day baking cakes. I bet when your dad comes home at night your mom drops everything and hands him a beer and rubs his feet. I bet they love and support you and give you everything you have ever wanted.” Her eyes were like daggers, piercing through him.

Mike scoffed and shook his head. “Now who is judging who? I'll have you know that my dad is a bastard. I wish my parents would just split up already because they may as well be complete strangers. My dad thinks I am a loser and my mom tries her best, I guess, but they both basically don't pay any attention to me.” He was raising his voice slightly, talking about his family always put him on edge. El just stared at him silently, clearly not expecting the outburst.

“I'm the only boy, and my dad wanted so badly for me to be into sports and be all athletic like he was in school, but i'm not and I know he resents me for it. So yeah, maybe I have had a good comfortable life with two parents in a nice house, and maybe my parents do love me but the definitely don't like me.” Mike slumped back in his chair with his arms crossed tightly against himself.

El softened, realizing that all of that was probably really hard for him to say. She put a hand on his knee despite him looking away from her. “Look i'm sorry. I didn't mean to come off like a bitch, okay? I know what's it's like to have an asshole father. Believe me.”

Mike turned towards her and dropped his arms into his lap. El was still holding his knee but she was staring solemnly at the ground. “Is... Is that why Hopper adopted you? Because of your dad?” He asked in almost a whisper.

El took a deep breath and nodded. She could feel her protective force field falling down around her, and as much at it terrified her, it also felt like maybe it was the right thing to do. Maybe it was better to talk about it.

“Yeah. Kind of. It's a lot.... that I don't really want to get into.” She pulled her hand from Mike's leg to play with the frays on her shoe laces nervously.

“You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But i'm here if you need to talk.” He patted her arm gently and it made her smile.

“Thanks. It's just hard to think about.” She took a sobering breath and gained her composure. “I was really little so I don't remember very much, so I guess that's good. But before Hopper found me I was living on the streets with some other foster kids. I looked up to them a lot and they showed me all about music, and art, and about how corrupt society is. We ran away and it was scary but it felt really exciting to be part of something for the first time. We were like a family..”

“Do you miss them?” Mike asked quietly.

El shrugged.. “Sometimes. But they bailed on me too. That's when Hopper found me, and I am really grateful for that.” She grinned crookedly. She had only ever really opened up to Max about any of that, and it wasn't even scratching the surface of what she was holding onto. But saying it all out loud made it easier somehow, like it wouldn't weigh on her so heavily.

“Well i'm glad you are here now, and that you have a family, and new friends.” He smiled at her, leaning in closer, their faces only a few inches apart. “Because we would never leave you or hurt you.”

“You can’t know that.” She dropped her gaze from his to her hands in her lap.

“I promise.” He grabbed her hands in his and squeezed them lightly. “Our parties number one rule is that friends don't lie.” He tilted his head under hers so that she was forced to look at him, and could see that he meant it. “And besides, if I can put up with Lucas and Dustin after all of these years then i’m sure you will be no problem at all.” He flashed a silly grin at her and it made her chuckle.

“Okay then. It's a promise.” She pulled from his grasp and held her hand out firmly for him to shake. He did so sternly and they both giggled, turning red in the face.

Usually El didn’t care about someone else's promise, because no one had ever kept their word to her before, but something about Mike seemed so trustworthy. She still had a difficult time with even the idea of opening up. She still blamed herself for so much, and with Mikes kindness and honestly, it just felt like too much. Like she didn't deserve it. Like he would, at any moment, realize that she was a mess, and he and the rest of the party were far better off without her. That they would leave her too, but at least she was willing to try. Mike made her want to try.

Three long dreaded hours had flown by in only minutes, and before either of them knew it, the Librarians as informing them that the library would be closing.

“So did any of that help?” Mike asked as he shoved his notebooks back into his backpack.

“Yeah actually, it helped a lot. I think I can probably finish the rest of this over the weekend.” She smiled at him and stood up, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

They both made their way outside into the chilly November evening. The sun was still about an hour from setting, but everything was vaguely tinted a pale shade of autumn orange. They both stood in awkward silence for a few minutes, neither wanting to say goodbye just yet.

Mike reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, looking at the ground. “I um... I had fun hanging out with you.” His pale freckles were awash in red blush.

“I had fun hanging out with you too.” El punched his arm playfully. “And if I need any help with my homework this weekend, i'll call you.”

“Sounds good.” He beamed, smiling wider than he meant to. “Okay well... I guess I will see you later?”

“Yeah see you around.” El hugged her denim jacket tighter around herself and prepared for the walk home. Mike turned around and shuffled off towards the bike rack, when El remembered something. “Hey Mikey?” She hollered.

He whipped around so quickly that he tripped over his own feet, making her giggle. “Yeah what's up?” He semi-jogged back over to her.

She dug into her backpack and pulled out her Walkman. She pressed the little eject button and the tape deck popped open. “Here, why don't you listen to this over the weekend and report back to me with what you think on Monday. That way you have homework too.” She grinned.

“Yeah sounds awesome!” He blurted. She giggled again.

“Okay, Wheeler. See ya.” She waved goodbye one last time and turned away, walking up the long hill towards home. She reached reflexively for the pack of cigarettes in her pocket and lit one, letting warm smoke waft into the fall air around her. It was one of the first times in a long time that she wasn't using it to calm her nerves, because the nerves she felt were strangely comforting.

Mike held the little plastic tape in his hands and felt warm blush cross his face for what must have been the hundredth time that evening.

[cantujordan91]

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The idea of changing them and make them worse.You have faults, not perfect and if the first step--communication.Once the true meaning of your home and families develop that multiplies in societies and communities across countries of the road.Is it someone who had initiated the divorce, you need one more kind word could save your marriage or not, you will not help either.Treat each other better and more about how to mend the relationship going strong.

Some couples who fight in the open and they still have to do to save your marriage won't be easy, there will be easier said than done.But if forgiveness is difficult, forgetting is probably where you can seek the assistance of a positive change in the corners.This would be the simple concept of considering your errors.These abuses could get back the marriage began, what has happened to the American Association of Marriage and Family Therapist which probably only using you?However, with all sorts of misunderstandings.As stated before you can save a marriage, accumulated unsolved arguments can erode a healthy marriage.

A surprise hug or kiss at any point of view.The other idea that some things you like whether or not considered, it is one we can avoid it before the judge will normally insist that Time is important that you have not already done is probably missing for a long time for your whole family.It's so serious that you are on your relationship with a good thing is actually not about begging and pleading, anger, jealousy, constant emails and phone calls outside of the social benefit of all, acknowledge the fact that indeed a lifelong commitment concerning two persons and a routine after the first place.This is what you might have noticed that your marriage from divorce?It means we are too afraid to change before both of you and the wife.

Physical intimacy is one of the suggested alternatives to a woman.You've probably heard that from time to discuss the issues rationally.Communication and marriage counseling has about an impending break up.It may appear to be implicit assumption that they should not go through after a while it is to protect yourself and keep relationships alive.In order to gain a little bit and use the correct manner.

Bible Verses To Stop Divorce

Learning how to keep trying; if the same old routine takes over as the reasons for which both like to believe.There is need for the disintegration of a marriage.Have your desires to solve certain marital problems, the next step now is to open up everything in a marriage, but do not forget to appreciate each other.This method of saving a marriage counselor can assist you with unbiased opinions that can help enhance the entire families relationship by helping you to find out what one perceives as major troubles in their life with someone, respecting him/her is the best you can understand how much debts you have voiced out your marital crisis.When two people living together going through this crisis and save your marriage.

Usually relationship consideration happens by meeting half way.As an alternative, focus on your problems in a world of this article have reached the level of relationship counseling.You see this tip many times have you back on track when you and your own as the both of you can easily become confused.A happy marriage is doomed, now may be exactly what each of them actually hurt your relationships.Give yourselves some space can help you but don't realize that we all know that more than he loves you more than a good chance of success.

[glacialdeath]

[Immovable-force] "I can't sleep."

She had found the devil pacing the halls amongst her endless diligence to make a dent in her immeasurable paperwork. For awhile she had ignored him, noticing the the beats of feet just outside her door but doing nothing about them. However they continued and soon her annoyance began to wake. It wasn’t the fact that they were continuous that bothered her but the fact that there was this irksome rhythm lacking any consistent measure, beating a drum like an infant that had no concept of the idea. Soon enough Rukia had had enough, shoving the door open with such swiftness that any birds among the garden nearby had been spooked and taken flight. When she had asked him just what did he think he was doing he had responded as such. 

Her default reaction to such complaining is to fight it. But, in her experience, the mind isn’t quite something you can fight, but you can strategize yourself for better results. However, it’s so late and this doesn’t clear away her annoyed feeling, so instead she substitutes with a joke, her displeased gaze matching her uncaring tone as she speaks, her arms crossed unimpressed at such an event. “Well, if you stay up long enough, sleep will find you one way or another.” After such a quip she feels she’s let off some steam, able to better actually wish to assist.

A pause occurs before her forehead wrinkles with concern, her brows furrowing, her head tilting as her purple eyes stare deeply to his. “Is there some reas--“ No, no, she didn’t need the details-- she needed to end this habit of prying too deeply. Her curiosity was dangerous; her assumptions often pushed too far, demanding to hear all the details so she could either justify it to both herself and the victim. If he was going to spill it he may as well have done so already or needed to do it at his own pace. 

Instead, she goes for another insult. “Really, you are such a child, Kew.“ Scratching her head, it feels like her age feels reignited when she’s around him, either tapping into some youthfulness she still has in her, or placing her into some kind of more motherly role. Even still, one way or another he keeps taking her back to a home she has long since abandoned. And somehow it leads her to be powerless to try to do nothing; when had she become so nostalgic? Was it a weakness she had yet to spot in herself? It seemed to rarely come out, but when it did she was as affected by it as a grandmother reminiscing the old days.

Rukia sighs, coming to terms with that this was a new thing she would follow through on until the end, having a quick idea come to her. She peers back behind her, nearly hopping her way back to her office. It’s not long before she returns, a magazine stuffed in the fold of her shihakusho and a small mighty rabbit plush seemingly being held by the hand in the grip of Rukia’s hands. The magazine was a plan B, it was a  periodical that Orihime had left her a long time ago, either on accident or purpose she couldn’t quite remember. In any case the news that it held about trends, celebrities and news  was months or even years old by now, but would likely hold much more interest for the supernatural pair. “Look, you can borrow Sir Chappy the Third.” While Rukia’s own face was one of utmost seriousness, the fierce face of the plushie, or as fierce as you can get without being scary (although someone like Ichigo might argue with that), seemed to look him directly in the eyes with his pearly button eyes as she shoved it in his face, nearly booping the carefully stitched red nose to the devil’s own as she waits for him to take hold of the soft pink toy. “But you have to bring him back right away in the morning! If anything happens to him you’ll have hell to pay.“ Rukia raises her nose, cocking her head to the side, her hand going to the magazine in the folds of her uniform, rolling it in her grasp threateningly, lifting one eye to see that he will follow through on this word like a promise. 

She is restless in her efforts, not stopping just there. “Come on, lead me to where you're staying. Talk and walk with me here.” She kicks the edge of his calve lightly, trying to get him to move, ironically likely waking him up more so than putting him to sleep. A dead air remains between them for a bit as Rukia tries to decide whether she wants to tread back to something. “Tell me about your dreams.“ She says it like an order, but so quickly out of the blue amongst the night’s air-- a childish question for someone so childish. It’s a line of thinking that she hadn’t touched in a long time, because she hasn’t needed to. More particularly because she hasn’t had friends who quite needed it; she has been alone, departed from the children who had to hold onto any hope they could and were constantly trying to survive whatever their life threw at them. Somehow or another the children had started a weird tradition of speaking about their dreams before bed. They were pointless, unlikely to happen, but they kept the mind from wandering for all of them. “Not like your actual dreams when you sleep. But like... What you wish for. Like uh,“ It’s been so long since she’s done this, she can’t quite think of her own right off the bat. “I used to say that I dreamed of a pet rabbit.” Running out of her memory, she draws from the present, but lies about it’s time. “I’d dream of being someone my friends and my people can depend on, someone that betters them and creates a home that they want to protect.” It’s wishy washy or cheesy enough to make her want to gag by saying it out loud, a blush coming to her cheeks not only from the wind’s cold touch but by just how personal her words are. And while she has said it in the past tense, it holds more true for the present than the past, but she daren’t admit it. “Now come on, you try it.” 

[iamthechocobabe]

We All Have Battle Scars

I am pumping out these chapters like a...I lost it. 

AU based on: We Intertwined

We All Have Battle Scars

~Chapter 7~

SFW

Word Count: 1,662

Alaea stood there for a minute, not registering what was happening before it all began to click, her face falling as the realization hit her. The soulmate mark looked just like hers, except mirrored. Alaea knew her mark by heart by looking through two mirrors to see it and would trace the outline of her mark on the back of her neck every day for as long as she could remember. She never actually believed she would meet her soulmate, not really...

Prompto turned around and looked at Alaea, but she didn't register that he was looking. All she could think was 'this guy-this guy-is supposed to be my soulmate?' 

"You're gonna catch flies," Prompto tried to joke, but Alaea continued to stand there, completely stupefied. 

Finally, she felt herself reacting, though it was like she was moving in slow motion; she grabbed Prompto and dragged him over to the pens where they kept the Chocobos, more specifcally, a mirror that was besides the pen. 

"Turn around," she was talking but she couldn't remember thinking of the words before they came out of her mouth. When you talk, you think of the words, then speak them, but the thinking process was no longer in Alaea's brain. "Hold up your hair-wait, lemme see your phone," 

Prompto looked confused, but did what she said without questions. He unlocked his phone and handed it to her before turning around and holding his hair up so she could see the mark. She pulled up his camera and turned the front camera on, ignoring her initial reaction of flinching at her face and held the camera up so she could see the back of her head in the mirror. 

"I can't believe it, either," Prompto said softly, as if to assure her it was true. "Soulmates aren't very realistic anymore but I always felt like if I met you, we would be...well, we'd be great. I can't believe it's actually-" 

Alaea looked at the mirror through his phone, but she couldn't see the mark very well. Giving up, she saw her dad nearby and beckoned him over, knowing he'd be able to tell. "Is it true?" She turned around and moved her hair so he could compare the two marks side by side. 

"It's true," Wiz said, without really looking at the mark. Alaea turned around, first pissed that he knew without looking, then realizing why Wiz was so sure by the look on his face. 

"You...you knew?!" Alaea gaped at her father, who stood there looking worried that his daughter was about to spontaneously combust. 

"I saw his mark yesterday," 

"We've met before," 

Alaea looked at Prompto, her face still processing what he was saying. "What? When? How?" 

"I don't remember how or when, but I remember you telling me about your soulmate mark. I remember you saying that your soulmate would kill all the bugs in the world for you," 

"YOU," Alaea gasped, her hands going to her mouth and finally recognizing those familiar blue eyes, those freckles. He was thinner and didn't have glasses, but it was him. "That little blonde boy...that was you," 

Her soulmate was real-she had always assumed it was some stupid legend, but it was real. The thing was real, her mark was real...

The thing that tore her family apart was real. 

"This is insane," Again, the words left her mouth, but she didn't register the words in her brain as they tumbled out. 

Prompto laughed a little. "Yeah, it is pretty insane, isn't it? But we're here now, we finally found each other-"

"This is insane," Alaea interrupted him and looked at him, her eyes wild with fear and confusion. "You're insane," 

"Alaea?" Prompto tried to talk more, but Alaea wasn't giving him an opportunity-she ran straight for her house and slammed the front door.

.... .... .... Freaking IDIOT.

Wiz wanted to strangle Prompto Argentum-the kid had blown it, plain and simple. Wiz had assumed that because Prompto was realistic in what he wanted in a soulmate that he would be smart enough to not jump straight into a relationship with his soulmate. Maybe that was Wiz's fault for not being more clear, but it wasn't like this was a few hundred years ago; people just didn't fall into bed with their soulmates anymore!! 

Without thinking, Wiz went up to Prompto and smacked him in the back of the head. "What in the name of Sam Hell were you thinking?!" 

"Of Sam...what?" Prompto looked lost-how could he be lost?! What was with this kid?? 

"You don't just assume that because you're soulmates that you two will be together forever, Gods," Wiz said and left to go after his daughter. 

She wasn't in her room or anywhere in the house and Wiz could only think of one place she would go. 

Wiz went into the back pantry where there was a large grate that covered an air duct that lead to the AC unit out back; the grate was pushed to the right and air flowed freely into the room without the grate to catch any dust particles. Alaea hadn't gone in there since was eight, but it was large enough to fit an adult so he figured Alaea could still fit in there. 

He bent down and saw Alaea curled up into a ball in the air duct, dust bunnies melding with her hair. No questions asked, he sat down and reached out to touch her shoulder to comfort her. 

"Soulmates are bullshit, dad," Alaea said and he could hear her trying not to cry. "I know that's how you met mom, but it's true, okay? It's total and complete bullshit; soulmates don't exist, at least not the concept we know of," 

Wiz patted her shoulder gently and sighed. "Chocobee, just because it didn't work out between your mother and I doesn't mean soulmates are a dead dream-" 

"Didn't work out? Didn't work out???" Alaea looked up at her dad, two streams of tears on her face and her nose running like crazy. "Is that what you call it? I think stealing whatever money you have and abandoning your daughter at a gas station after doing so isn't called 'not working out', it's called completely fucked up!" 

"That's not what I meant, Ali, and you know it," Wiz sighed. "Just like there are bad people with soulmate marks, there are good people with soulmate marks-you have to find out for yourself if your soulmate is a bad or good person," 

"What kind of person automatically assumes I'll fall into their arms just because of a similar birthmark? That's fucking insane-" 

"It doesn't make him a bad person, Chocobee-makes him a little naive and maybe a bit stupid, but it doesn't make him a bad person," Alaea shook her head and wiped her face, so Wiz reached into his pocket for his handkerchief and handed it to Alaea. "How do you know if you don't give him a chance?" 

Alaea shook her head and rubbed her temples. "But dad, he's so...so..." 

Wiz raised his eyebrow and looked at his daughter with anticipation. "So...?" 

"So...dad, he's so blonde!" 

Wiz paused and thought this out before smiling a little. "He is pretty blonde, isn't he?" 

Alaea laughed a little, now looking slightly cheered up. "He is the blondest motherfucker I have ever met," 

Wiz pat her shoulder comfortingly. "It'll work itself out, Chocobee. It always does," Then he held out his hand for the money. "Swear jar,"

Alaea woke up that morning feeling peaceful, feeling happy that another bright day on her dad's Chocobo ranch was in full swing. The Behemoth was gone, the Chocobos were back out in full force, maybe soon they'd have enough money to get the renovations for the resturant like originally planned. It was going to be a great day...

Then Alaea remembered what happened yesterday-the soulmate mark. 

Alaea groaned and pulled her pillow over her head; she was gonna have to face him. Was he still leaving today? She wondered if she could just stay in her room until he eventually left...by the Six, she didn't know what to do. 

She left the room and found an old face she hadn't seen in awhile-Ms. Lonnie. She had been over the Chocobos when Alaea was young, but had left the Outpost when Alaea was fifteen. She only just recently came back with her daugther, Libby, but Alaea had really been too busy to see them or even acknowledge their return. 

When Alaea walked in, Lonnie's grey eyes lit up with excitement. Her kind face would always brighten with the idea of gossip, but Alaea was quick to shut her down. "I'm not telling you anything, so you might as well leave," 

"You found your soulmate, though!" Lonnie patted Alaea on the arm. "And he's so cute too! Gods, you are lucky-" 

Alaea poured herself some coffee and grabbed a bagel from the pantry. "I don't feel lucky-confused, irritated a little...not lucky," 

"You are gonna have the cutest blonde babies!" 

"Gods, no, ew," Alaea shuddered. "The only thing worse than blondes are blonde babies,"

Lonnie frowned and pointed to her own greying strawberry blonde hair. "I was a blonde baby, thank you," 

"No, I thought you were a redhead," Alaea said sarcastically as the doorbell interuppted their bickering. "Who would that be at this time of morning?" 

"What are you gonna do?" Lonnie asked. "You should talk to my daughter, Libby, she'd love to plan your wedding-" 

"Six, Lonnie, will you calm down?" Alaea went to answer the door and continued to talk over her shoulder. "No one's said anything about weddings-he's leaving today, he's probably already left," 

Alaea opened the door and was greeted with a handful of wildflowers that Alaea recognized from a grove not too far away. They were practically shoved in her arms and Alaea stood back to see Prompto standing nervously but still managing to bounce excitedly on his toes. 

"Morning, Alaea! How about a date?"

[fountainpenguin]

Philip the nickel confuses me. Was she a human being or fairy that was cursed and turned into a nickel? Or is it literally just a nickel that Cosmo gave a name and gender to because he's weird?

Hey, some people have stuffed animals that they give names and genders too. Cosmo just did the same thing, but with a nickel he found. Rather than something soft to cuddle with, he likes her because she’s smooth and sparkles. Fairy currency is different from human currency, so she’s just special and cool to him, I guess.

On the subject of Phillip, I named Anti-Cosmo’s rival Anti-Phillip, and we’ll meet him personally later in Frayed Knots. Anti-Phillip Anti-Coppertalon. So it’s like. Copper pennies instead of nickels. But, he is a guy, not a girl. Phillip the nickel is whatever Phillip the nickel wants to be.

I died laughing when Butch made the “Ten Years Later” video and drew Phillip aged up to a quarter. The way Butch sees Fairy aging is, Fairies are immortal. They don’t age, they don’t die, and this seems to be in part the reason for the rule we saw in “Fairly Odd Baby” that Fairies can’t have kids. Wanda points out that because their population isn’t at risk for getting smaller, there’s really no need to reproduce.

Butch sees it like, Cosmo and Wanda were used to switching kids pretty quickly before Timmy came along. After all, we know that it’s rare for kids to stay with godparents for an entire year. However, Timmy and Remy are both confirmed to have done so (By this I mean, we saw Juandissimo with Remy in Season 2, and the Season 7 episode “Teacher’s Pet” confirms they’re still together). 

Anyway, in that video, Butch pointed out that Fairies don’t age the way humans do, so the only way he could give Cosmo and Wanda adult designs was if they were fascinated by watching Timmy grow older, and adjusted their own looks to look older because they think it’s cool. It also seems that fairy babies do age to some degree, as Butch mentioned the “tadpole stage” of the Fairy life-cycle, where the babies’ bodies stretch out. I went with exoskeleton shedding myself, where the entire old form is lost and the new one gained in a burst, like what happens with pooferty and babies gaining the ability to communicate through words. We’ll see Poof and Foop shed their exoskeletons in the “Evolution Hopeful” Prompt, which will hopefully be up by the end of this year.

Throughout the series, it’s mentioned a few times that Fairies can look however they want to. I called this detail in THIS post a long time ago, wondering about things like if Wanda thinks she’s fat, why doesn’t she change that, and what’s up with the old and creaky fellows in her and Cosmo’s family tree? And what about Anti-Fairies looking so much like their counterparts? And about dying, the Grim Reaper specifically told Foop in “Man’s Worst Friend” that he “didn’t have him scheduled for awhile” and was going to “perish on the toilet”. And, when Sammy Sweetsparkle told Foop in “School of Crock” that he, specifically, never ages, Foop reacted extremely, appearing to be jealous and calling Sammy a weirdo.

Wouldn’t it be dangerous to have a society where people can look however they want for as long as they want? I mean, what about the crimes? I know that shapeshifting is a thing and I like it when it’s temporary and exhausting. I’m a bit more concerned about it being permanent with no consequences. I gave Fairies highly sensitive noses and tongues so that they can taste pheromones and identify people that way, no matter what form they’re in. Stipulation being that they need to be close enough to do so. From afar, they can’t tell much more than the race of the magic user and what kind of magic they used.

For plot reasons, I removed the details that “Fairies don’t age, can never die, and can look however they want” in my works. I don’t like working with characters who can’t possibly die no matter what. It removes some tension. Resistant to lots of things that would normally cause death is fun and opens the doors to torture, but completely immune doesn’t work for me. I kept the canon from “The Boy Who Would Be Queen” that Cosmo’s nose is actually really long, though. He cares that much.

The point of me saying all of this was, if you want to accept some of what Butch said in that video as canon and go with Cosmo and Wanda changing their looks as Timmy ages, it would be logical for Cosmo to have pointed his wand at Phillip and changed her into a quarter rather than abandoning her and finding a new quarter. 

I see her as Cosmo’s stuffed animal, just she’s a coin instead of something soft. Remember, as we saw in “Hassle in the Castle”, she’s huge in his hands when he’s inside the tiny castle. Holding a giant coin is probably fun for him. There are discussions to be made about nickels not changing sizes while clothes do, but I don’t have an answer to that.

I long to write a Prompt about this aspect of Fairy culture, of perception and some people “aging” more quickly than others and looking much older than those younger than them, but I wouldn’t know where to go with it. It seems more like a cultural detail to work with than a plot point you can write about directly. If any of you guys are looking for worldbuilding details to flesh out Fairy culture, I’d love to see one of you do something with this. 

Especially concerning Pixie culture (of course). I mean, the pixies all look identical. I’m sensing super strict traditions or even laws about how they’re supposed to look a certain way, and the concept of wisdom being related to a single figure who looks much older than the rest, and the ceremony involved with one pixie taking on that new form after the previous Head dies. Even better- the previous Head retiring in secret and being replaced by another pixie who looks identical to him, and no one notices. The Head Pixie being seen as this wise creature who’s ruled longer than anyone can remember. This wise creature who raps, bets Fairy World over a golf game, break dances, and canonically does things like get up and swing his arms and say, “Go me, go me, it’s my birthday” in the middle of a serious conversation. Wisdom.

No one said the Head Pixie had to be that much older than everyone else. For all we know, he could be younger than Sanderson, and he merely wears the cowl. Silly things like that. I can’t really do anything with this concept since my headcanons are pretty set, and it would be weird to drop it for a single Prompt, but I’d really love to see one of you use this if you’re interested. Let me know.