#useless and always will be the same with the same mistakes and issues

[mayplantstarrwaters]

Going through another art crisis once again as I just decided today that I will practice some essential stuffs for drawing such as body anatomy, hand, legs but then I got hit with a bunch of tutorials from different people and references pics to the point that I don’t know where to fucking begin ???? And now once again I feel like I can’t fucking do anything because I just tried everything I could and it crumbled

[spaceyaceface]

Only In Dreams

Ominis Gaunt x f!Reader/MC

This fic was written based on the angst prompt the wonderful @applinsandoranges gave me!!! I had SUCH a great time writing this, thank you so so much lovely! There's definitely a lot of angst in here, but I am but a softy, and couldn't help but give it a happy ending :)

Summary: She spent her days in love with him, and her nights wishing they were together. But she knew it would never be---Ominis Gaunt had sworn off love for the sake of ending his family's legacy. She knew she wouldn't be an exception to that.

Prompt: “I’d rather sleep in all day ‘til I’m dead”

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Angst

It hurt, being so in love with her best friend. 

It hurt even more when even sleep didn’t let her escape from it. 

She woke with a start, hand reaching up to brush over her lips, recalling the echo of his breath mingling with hers from just before she awoke. The first few times she’d had that dream she couldn’t help but shed a few tears. Now, though, she only released a shuddering breath and arose to begin her day. 

The dream was always the same. They were standing in some room—she wasn’t sure where, exactly, but that didn’t matter. All she saw was him. He smiled, and told her that he loved her. Then he leaned closer, closer—

And there it ended. 

Night after night, she lived through the same tormenting scenario, one she was absolutely certain was impossible. 

She had been in love with Ominis Gaunt since the summer after her sixth year when he came to visit her small flat in London. They had walked down the street, arm in arm under the flickering streetlights. When they had stopped on a bridge and he offered her his coat, she knew she was doomed. It had only gotten worse since then. Every innocent touch felt like fire. The rare laughs he gave when in the company of his closest friends made her stomach tumble end over end. And in the night, when she fell asleep thinking of him, he found his way into her dreams. 

Maybe they were nightmares. She didn’t know what to call them anymore. All she knew is that they were painful, showing the desires that could never be. 

Ominis had told her several times throughout their friendship that he planned on never marrying. It would be selfish of him, he insisted, dragging any undeserving person into the mess that was the Gaunts. To ask someone to bear that name—the possibility of children forced to have it—it was too much. No, he had told her. He couldn’t do that to anyone. Better not to love when he was certain it would result in nothing but continuing his family’s legacy of pain. 

Back before her feelings for him had fully come about, she had tried to argue against his stance. Ridiculous, she had told him. Why should their mistakes define whatever happiness you might find? But it was useless. When the subject came up after she had fallen like stones were tied to her feet she felt she couldn’t speak on the issue. Before, it had been for him. For his happiness. But suddenly, it felt like she was trying to convince him for her sake. 

She knew full well that she would not be an exception to his decision, as little as she cared about what the name Gaunt would mean if it ever became hers. 

As she finished dressing, she sat on her bed, closing her eyes and sighing. What she wouldn’t give to live in that dream. Where none of that mattered. Where he felt the same. Where that ache in her chest became a flame of excitement and hope. 

Just as she had every day for the past month, she walked down to the Great Hall, as if there was nothing wrong at all. 

Despite the pain of having what she wanted so near, she couldn’t help but seek out Ominis’s calming presence. She was a moth to his soothing flame, eager to hear his quiet voice as he whispered witty remarks, desperate to let her hand brush his as they walked. So when she entered the Great Hall and saw him talking to Sebastian, she smiled. 

His head tilted toward her as she approached, having long memorized the sound of her footsteps. His soft smile graced his lips. “I swear, you get here later and later every day. Soon enough you’ll be missing breakfast all together.”

She chuckled. “I’ll just have Sebastian help me nick something from the kitchens when I do.” 

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Please. You know stealing from the kitchen is easier than anything. If you need help with that, you’re hopeless.” 

“Maybe I just wanted the company.”

“Are you suggesting Sebastian is good company?” Ominis said, smirking.

“I never said good or bad. He is entertaining, in the least.” 

Sebastian tore off part of the toast he’d been eating and threw it at her. “I don’t know why I talk to the two of you. There’s never a break from the torment.”

“Except right now,” Ominis said. “Off to Ancient Runes you go, unless you’d rather join us for History of Magic.”

He scoffed. “Never. I can’t believe the two of you still take that class. Voluntarily.” 

“It’s an interesting subject, Binns is just an awful professor,” she said.

Ominis shrugged. “I just take it for my beauty sleep.” 

“Merlin knows you need it,” Sebastian said, patting Ominis’s shoulder and starting down the hall. “I’ll see the two of you later.” 

She and Ominis began walking to class, one of the rituals they had together. She’d always enjoyed having this class with him, whether it was spent sharing not-so-quiet whispers or nodding off for a morning nap, it was always nice. 

And as she watched Ominis as he laid his head against his hand, she remembered just why she didn’t mind the nodding-off days. 

He looked so peaceful as he napped, his protected expression giving way to one of pure bliss. It always made her sad to think she saw that softness from him so rarely—it made her hate his family all the more for stealing that from him, like so much else. 

She didn’t know how long she sat, watching him sleep. She didn’t know how long it was until she dozed off herself. But suddenly, there she was, once again. 

All she could focus on was his face tilted down toward her, his hands grasping her own. The rest of the world around them was a blur—it didn’t matter. Not when he was there with her, grinning like a fool. 

“I should have told you ages ago,” he said. “I love you. More than anything.”

The words came so easily. “I love you, too.” 

He leaned forward, placing a hand on her cheek to help guide him. She would wake up any second now, she knew. She would open her eyes and—

His lips met hers. They were soft, gentle. Her head was spinning, heart pounding in her ears. She tilted her head just so—

The jostle on her shoulder catapulted her back to reality. Her breath was coming fast as she looked over at Ominis, his hand still on her arm. A quick glance around the near-empty classroom told her class had just ended. 

“Sorry to wake you, but it’s time to go,” Ominis said. 

He stood and offered his hand to her. Fighting warmth in her face, she took it, letting go quickly once she was on her feet. His brows furrowed. He seemed to have noticed the slight tremor in her hand. 

They walked down the hall, heading to their next lesson. She couldn’t look at him—not without seeing the image of him in her dream. She did her best to act normal, chatting with him softly as they went. 

But Ominis knew her too well. He stopped at the end of one of the corridors and turned toward her. “Are you alright? You’re acting… off.” 

She pressed her lips together. “I’m fine, Ominis.”

“You don’t seem fine,” he said softly, taking a step closer to her. She sucked in a sharp breath. “Did… did you have a nightmare, just now in class?”

Only he could see right through her like that. “No, not really. It was just a dream.”

“Just a dream?” He shifted his weight, shaking his head a bit. “I don’t think it qualifies as ‘just a dream’ if it’s left you in a state like this.”

“It was… it was a dream that couldn’t come true, alright?” she said softly. “I can’t explain any more than that.” 

“Maybe if you talked about it, it would help—”

“Ominis, please,” she said, voice pleading. “Drop it. I can’t talk about it.”

And drop it he did. 

He was so bloody kind. So damn respectful. It made her want to bawl her eyes out. 

The dreams only got worse in the coming days. She imagined the feeling of his lips on hers nearly every night, and then it progressed to more soft moments she had always been longing for—laying side by side in a field, hands intertwined, his arms wrapped around her as he pressed a kiss to her forehead—and then the worst of all. Ominis, standing down an aisle, soft music playing as she stepped toward him. 

That was the one that destroyed her. She woke up in tears, curling up in the corner of the bed and trying not to wake her dorm mates with her sobs. Of all the cruel things her mind could conjure up, that one stung like a knife to the heart, because there was nothing she wanted more than to devote herself completely to the man she loved so much. 

She thought about avoiding him for a while. See if it would get the dreams to stop. But each time she went someone, determined not to talk to him or look his way, there he was, a lighthouse shining out for her ship so lost at sea. He called her home to him, time after time, and she went, no matter how much it hurt. 

It was Sebastian who finally called her out for her strange behavior. She knew it had only been a matter of time. She was too anxious, too jumpy compared to normal. Shen her two friends would bicker, she would find herself lost in thought, only to be startled when one of them asked her a question. 

“What’s been going on with you?” Sebastian asked as the two of them settled on the floor of the Undercroft. “We’ve been worried. You’re not yourself.”

A million options of what to tell him ran through her head. But after just a moment or two, she finally settled on what to say—the truth. 

“I love him, Sebastian,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. Instinctively, she pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her head on them. “I love him so much, and I don’t…” The tears started coming, and once they began, she couldn’t stop them. Sobs worked their way up her throat, all of the aches she had built up for months finally letting loose. 

Sebastian rushed to comfort her, albeit a bit taken back by the outburst of emotion. He rubbed his hand over her back, trying to soothe her. “Hey—hey, it’s alright. You’ll be alright,” he said softly. 

She tried to regain control. It was difficult, but she focused on taking deep breaths. When Sebastian saw she had calmed down enough to talk once more, he let out a sigh. “You’re talking about Ominis?” 

She nodded, not trusting her voice. 

“Can I ask how long?” 

“Since he visited me last summer but… God, Sebastian, it’s only been getting worse.” She took a shuddering breath. “For weeks now, I’ve dreamed that he feels the same, even though I know he’ll never…” She bit her lip, eyes welling up once more. 

“A dream that couldn’t come true,” Sebastian said, sounding far off. Ominis had told him of his worries after History of Magic, of course. Now it all made sense. “I’m so sorry.” 

“I know it’ll never happen,” she said. “He made it very clear he has no intention to pursue anyone like that. I’ve accepted it.” 

She wished Sebastian could reassure her. Tell her no, you’ve got it all wrong, he’s mad for you. But they both knew their friend—that he had locked up his heart and thrown away the key, despite any and all protest from them. So Sebastian didn’t say empty words of ‘you never know’ or ‘it could work out’ or ‘you’ve still got a chance’. Instead, he looked at her with eyes full of sorrow, and offered a tight lipped smile. “Do you think it would help if you just told him?” 

“Maybe,” she admitted. “Then I could put it to rest. I could stop fooling myself that there could be a way to make things work.” She could stop dreaming about it.

Sebastian left. He promised he would find Ominis, send him down there to talk to her. She’d have a few minutes to gather her courage, to find the right words.

And then it’d be over. 

She could only hope it wouldn’t destroy their friendship—all the good they had built. She needed him, desperately, in any way she could have him. He was the anchor in her life. 

When the door to the Undercroft opened, she felt like she might suffocate. He called out her name. 

“Are you alright? Sebastian said you needed to talk, what’s going on?” His voice was on the verge of panic. It pulled at the most tender parts of her heart. In a moment, he stood in front of her, putting away his wand. “What’s happened?”

She closed her eyes, steeling herself up. “I’m fine, Ominis, I just needed to tell you something. Something I hope doesn’t ruin everything.” 

“Ruin…” His voice trailed off. “I’m… afraid I don’t follow.” 

“I love you, Ominis.” The words, the ones that she had locked away for so long, the ones she had swore to herself she would never utter, pierced the air with sudden sharpness. She watched Ominis’s expression wash away, an empty slate of utter shock overtaking it. “I love you. I… I needed you to know that. I’m sorry. I don’t expect anything from you. You’ve already told me you would never love another like this. I suppose my heart just couldn’t heed those warnings.”

He didn’t even seem to be breathing. His mouth opened slowly, as if trying to form a response, but closed again. 

She brushed her hand on his arm. “It’s ok. You don’t need to say anything. I just needed to put this all to rest. I hope…” her voice trembled. “I hope we can remain as friends.”

She left him alone in the Undercroft before she could start sobbing yet again. 

-

When Ominis entered the common room, he was an utter mess. 

Sebastian had waited up for him—he expected he would need to talk after everything happened. By the time Ominis finally came back, everyone else had gone off to bed. 

Ominis’s usually neat hair was disheveled from running his hands through it over and over again. His blazer was held bunched up in his arm, no care for the later wrinkles it was sure to have. The hand holding his wand in front of him was shaking terribly. 

“I take it she told you?” Sebastian said softly, clearly worried about the state of his friend. 

Ominis didn’t answer, dropping his coat on one of the sofas and pressing his hands to his face. 

“What happened? What did you say to her?” Sebastian asked. If this was how Ominis had fared after their conversation, he could only imagine how she was doing. 

“I didn’t say anything.” Ominis’s voice was quiet. Hollow. 

“You—hold on, she laid her heart out to you, and you didn’t say anything?” Sebastian stood,  folding his arms across his chest.

“What was I supposed to say, Sebastian?” Ominis said. “My mind went blank.”

“You tell her it’ll be alright!” Sebastian replied, anger edging its way into his voice. “You tell her that even if you don’t love her the same, you’ll still be there for her.” 

“I can’t lie to her, she’d see right through it,” Ominis said. 

“So you’re abandoning her, then?” Sebastian took a step closer to his friend. “You can’t handle knowing she cares so deeply for you, so you cut her off?”

“That’s not what I’d be lying about!” 

Ominis collapsed onto the sofa, head falling into his hands. The meaning of his words slowly sank in. 

“You love her, too?” 

His silence was enough of an answer. 

“Then why didn’t you tell her that?” Sebastian’s voice had lost all of its fury as he came to sit next to his friend. 

“How could I?” Ominis scoffed. “You know what I’ve always said. I don’t want to drag anyone into my mess of a family. I thought I could simply… not fall in love. It sounded easy enough. But she came along and…” He shook his head, sighing. “How could I ask her to be part of all of that?” 

“But you wouldn’t be,” Sebastian said. “You wouldn’t be asking her to be part of your family. You’d be asking her to be with you. I think she’s made it pretty clear she would say yes to that in a heartbeat.” 

“Sebastian, you don’t—”

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. You deserve to find happiness. You’ve found it in her. Your bloodline shouldn’t determine that for you.” 

“I…” Ominis pressed his lips together. “I’ll think about it.”

Sebastian sighed. “I suppose that’s the best I’m going to get.” He stood, patting his friend on the shoulder. “I’m off to bed. If you have any sense in you, you’ll tell her first thing in the morning.” 

It was a good long while later when Ominis finally entered the dorm room. Even as he laid out on his bed, sleep evaded him. When the first bit of sunlight began to warm the room, Ominis pulled himself out of his mess of sheets. 

First thing in the morning it was. 

He didn’t even know if she would be awake yet, or if she would have been out of her dorm. But he couldn’t lay in his bed a moment longer. He’d search for her, for hours if he needed to, just to feel like he was doing something. 

Funny how she was at the first place he looked. 

She’d always been fond of the boathouse. She’d told him how some nights when she couldn’t sleep, she’d sit out there to look out at the stars. It was always quiet there, just the lapping of gentle waves from the lake and a soft breeze. She was leaning against the railing of the dock, his wand told him, staring out over the water. 

“I thought you might be out here.” 

She didn’t respond, but patted the railing beside her, an invitation to join her. He put his wand away and settled where she’d indicated. He took in a deep breath through his nose, letting the fresh scent of pine carried over the lake soothe him. 

“It’s a lovely sunrise,” she said softly. 

He was sure it was. He could feel it—the growing warmth of the early morning. “I came to apologize,” he said.

“You don’t need to do that,” she said. “You can’t help if you don’t feel the same. Please don’t feel bad about it, Ominis.” 

“But I—that’s not what I’m apologizing for.” He took a deep breath, preparing himself. “I didn’t say a word last night. That was awful of me. To leave you in the dark on the thoughts running through my head. I can’t imagine what this night has been like for you, it was tormenting me, thinking of how it must have made you feel.” 

He heard a slight movement from her, an inhaling breath that told him she was about to respond. “Please,” he said, interrupting her before she could speak. “Please, let me finish. I need you to know exactly how I feel.” 

She stayed quiet. He willed himself to go on. “When you told me you loved me, I… I was afraid. You were right. I had always been determined not to fall in love, not to allow myself those feelings. But then I met you, and it made me question everything.” He felt her attention trained fully on him. “Before I knew it, I was in love with you. How could I have expected anything less? But I was still so caught up in my family, in the legacy they’ve left, how I could never ask you to be a part of it. You deserve so much better than all of it.”

He turned his head, facing toward her. “But I can’t let them loom over me forever. Not when it keeps me from what I want most. I love you. If you’ll have me, I am yours.” 

He didn’t have a chance to prepare himself for the way she threw herself on him. The way his arms wrapped tightly around her waist as he fell was pure instinct. The two of them tumbled to the pier, and he couldn’t even think to feel any pain over the sound of her joyful laughs. 

They sat up. One arm was still around her waist, and her own were thrown over his shoulders. Her nose buried itself right by the crook of his neck, the warm breath of her laughs tickling him. He couldn’t help his own laughter as it bubbled out of him. The months—years of aching, of wanting, of waiting, slipping away in an instant. 

She pulled her face back, and he could feel her eyes tracing over him. “I love you,” she said softly, smile in her voice. “I love you more than anything.”

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, and all she could think was how much better it was than her dreams.

[ghostsandfools]

Solar and Lunar's Relationship is so Underrated

Alright. I already typed out like a whole essay about this in one of my friends dms (I am so sorry you had to read all that-) but I decided to post an even LONGER essay here! Because I can :]

Solar and Lunar are just... Just the best. I love them. SO MUCH.

Lunar:

Lunar was the first person that Solar met from the main dimension. Lunar was obviously terrified of Solar at first, considering he looked and sounded just like Eclipse, but I love how Solar treats him when they first meet. He says "I don't know how anyone could hate you" and "I know I'm not your Eclipse. but you're not a mistake" and is just super sweet in general. It's been a while, but I recommend y'all go back and watch that episode, it's "What if Eclipse isn't evil?! In VRCHAT" and it's genuinely so so adorable.

It took a while for Lunar to get used to Solar, but Solar was patient with him the whole time and I love that. He understood why Lunar was scared of him and was just as sweet as possible until Lunar could feel comfortable around him.

One thing I think is interesting is that when Lunar went in Solar's head, he saw the memory of Solar killing his Moon. I don't think he saw the exact moment when Solar shot him, but from the fact that Solar was still alive and had never told anyone about it, he could probably infer what happened. He knows it happened, but he never held it against him. He never told anyone, he never blamed Solar or called him a murderer, because at that point he knew he wouldn't hurt someone without a reason. He knew Solar was trustworthy.

I think it's nice how their friendship was developed more in the background. Solar and Moon were always 'the besties', always spending time together, working on projects together, and it was the same way with Earth. But even though Solar and Lunar never spent as much time with each other, I feel like they understood each other better than anyone else. Their friendship was special, even if it wasn't as prominent.

When Lunar killed Eclipse, Solar showed him the same patience and care and kindness that he's always shown. Earth was scared of him, Gemini was angry at him, but Solar understood exactly what he was going through, because he'd been there once himself. And just like Lunar didn't judge him, he never judged Lunar.

Solar:

In his home dimension, Solar didn't really have anyone that he could trust. His Moon and Sun BOTH died. In the episode he was introduced in, he explained that during the separation or sometime after, his Moon passed away, and the version we saw who tried to kill him was a copy of his Moon with the same memories. I wonder if that's why he's so unwilling to except what happened to Nexus, because he's seen it all before. And I wonder if maybe this will become a pattern, and what happened to his Sun will end up happening to ours?

Anyways. Solar had to come to the main dimension because his Moon tried to kill him and scrap him for parts and was just being an abusive asshole in general. It does remind me of Eclipse and Lunar. Solar was just a byproduct to his Moon, a useless machine he could use for extra labor, and when Solar wasn't useful to him anymore, he tried to scrap him for parts, desperate to get back his Sun, his star. In a way, I think Solar sees himself in Lunar. That's why they understand each other so well.

When Solar killed his Moon, he didn't tell anyone. I really wonder if that'll ever get brought up again, because he and Lunar have both been hiding it for so long. I can't imagine the guilt he'd feel afterwards, even if it was justified.

I'm going to talk about self harm now, so if you're sensitive to the topic, just scroll past this pink section.

Now, this might be me projecting, because i used to self harm and in a way, I see myself in both Lunar and Solar. But I can see the signs in both of them. Both of them, at this point, have got to have some kind of self worth issues. Constantly being told you're worthless is going to critically damage your self esteem, and it's clear that it's taken some kind of toll on them.

Solar is always working, constantly, and I think that's for two reasons. The first it to distract himself, of course, but i wonder if he's trying to prove himself. He wants to prove to his family that he IS worth something and that they don't need to punish him or scrap him for parts because he IS useful.

And Lunar is the same way. He hasn't shown as many signs, but he's had a lot of pressure on him since he came back. He feels like he has to be good with his powers, to keep both him and his family safe. He has quite literally got the entire world on his shoulders, with Rez threatening him and Taurus threatening him and worst of all, the looming threat that Gemini will probably never speak to him again if he can't master his powers, that's A LOT.

They're both dealing with a lot, and being constantly overwhelmed like that can drive a person to hurt themself. It's more of a headcanon with Lunar, but I could see it being canon for Solar. Like in one of the recent episodes where he was talking to Jack and said "Break the habit Solar- I mean, break the habit Jack!" I wonder if that's what he could be referring to? Idk, let me know what you think.

Okay, I'm done talking about that now. Anyways. When Solar died, Lunar didn't really react. Earth screamed and cried, Nexus went insane, but Lunar didn't really react. And looking at things from a surface level, you could say it's because he and Solar weren't as close, but i don't think that's really true. Lunar said he didn't really feel strongly about it, but how could he? With how much trouble his own emotions cause him in the past, how could he possibly? Maybe he didn't want to lose control of his powers again, maybe he didn't want Earth to be scared of him again. And everyone around him was already so sad, he needed to be stable so they didn't have to worry about him too. But just because he didn't have an outwards reaction, that doesn't mean he didn't care. That doesn't mean he didn't grieve, it doesn't mean it didn't effect him.

Sadly, we haven't seen Lunar's reaction to Solar's return yet, because youtube decided to chaunce around and be stupid, but I'm excited to see how he feels about the whole thing.

I have a little theory/prediction for you all before I end things off. Lunar got star power because he was rebuilt in space. Eclipse's lab was apparently next to the sun.... Maybe Solar will get star power as well? It would make sense, why should he not? He was rebuilt in space as well. It would be dumb if he didn't. Their lives are very parallel to each other after all, even their names.

Anyways. That's enough chauncing about from me, I've got to get to school. But let me know what you guys think! Are Solar and Lunar best duo 2024? Will Solar get star powers? Will the be fire themed and cool as fuck if he does? Does Solar is gay??????? I guess we'll have to wait and find out.

(Jesus Christ, you are DEDICATED, I don't know how you made it this far. If i saw a tumblr post this long, I would not have the patience to read it, you get a gold star for coming all this way ⭐)

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Honesty

I am back! Mostly because I got time and I feel like it.

Am I going through the ideas I have for prompts/drabbles quickly? Yes. Very. The idea pile is getting low but I don't feel like pacing them out. What is the fun in that?

Anyway. Lets continue where we left off... shall we? @spotaus as promised your daily tag!

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

We going! And we are still with Cross <3

*--------------------*

Cross watches from their nest as Dust just remains rolled up around Nightmare. Still not moving or talking at all. Nightmare himself doesn't seem bothered as he clearly is unwilling to let go of Dust either.

Cross remains where he is now. Watching over the two as Killer finishes up with the police people and Horror stalks around their area. Making sure it is still clean.

Cross feels the exhaustion creep back up but he refuses to rest. He isn't going to rest! Not as long as his mates and their child-

Cross feels himself blush as he shakes his skull. Trying to ban the thought. Focus! No need for useless and wishful daydreaming. It is especially not the time to think about those things now!

Horror enters the house before Killer and joins them. He looks at him and Cross makes sure to smile back. Horror is already stressed himself. No need to add to it. Cross has no doubt that Horror is also exhausted after all that happened.

Horror gives his nice and handsome half smile before sitting with Dust, he doesn't touch right away "Bunny??"

Dust doesn't speak but Cross can see him turn his skull a tiny bit.

Horror must have seen it too "Can I see Nightmare?" Horror's hand is slightly shaking. clearly worried.

Dust remains still but nods as he forces himself to turn. Moving so slow and careful.

Cross had once asked Dust what it felt like. To have so much power and magic. Dust had shrugged and said that it sometimes made it hard to control how he moved or how he used his magic.

Cross wonders if the slow movements and slow turns is now Dust's magic being overactive to try and protect Nightmare... or it are his parental instincts... Maybe even both? Cross still can't get over that Dust just controls it. Now with the lightning too! It is so powerful and wild and Dust just sits down and breaths through it... Cross is still unsure how anyone in the multiverse could messure up to that! Cross still remembers how it had felt to really see Dust use his magic and powers for the first time. all that time ago... Cross knows form that moment that this was going to cause issues for him as he still remembers it and could not stop thinking about it. And now he just got more powerful?! With the same calm control even if it no doubt only got harder to control? Cross is in trouble... such deep trouble.

Cross focusses on Horror and that may have been a mistake on its own. Horror smiles so painfully soft at Dust and Nightmare nad Cross feels his soul do that little flip again. Horror's devotion and care is so obvious. It is open and honest and Cross always feels unsure if it is aimed at him. Worried he will do something that makes it so painfully obvious of what he wants. Cross doesn't want that. He can't deal with them not wanting him like he wants them. Them not loving him like he does them.

He is content like this. Seeing them together and happy and safe.

Horror has managed to get Dust to uncurl again and accept being moved back into his arms. Horror seems to be gently checking Nightmar enad his magic.

He huffs unhappily "His magic is unsettled."

Cross feels deep fear as he leans closer. "What does that mean?" Was he too slow after all?! He should have been faster and just broken him out and-

Horror looks at him and reaches for him. a moment later his hand is on his shoulder and Cross can't help but lean into the touch a bit. His shoudlers relax a little bit as Horror rubs and massages the shoulder slightly.

Hroror speaks calmly "Calm down. I think... probably trauma and fear response. Just means his magic and mana is all concentrated around his soul. a protection kinda... Just means his magic needs to settle first before he can eat again." again Horror looks deeply unhappy.

Cross feels intense relieve before feeling like scum. Horror is terrified of food shortage and someone going hungry... This must be terrible to Horror to know Nightmare can't have any food for a while.

Cross searches for the right words "euh... how long... does it usually take... and can't we give him small things? maybe just something to drink? A smoothie could maybe work?"

Horror sighs as he gently rubs Nightmare's side and belly as Dust holds their tiny babybones close again. muttering soft reassurances again. Horror looks at him and thinks. Cross feels a bit bad for asking exact numbers. Horror said numbers often leave him confused after what happened.

Horror manages to push through though, he always does... it is one of those things that is amazing about him, and Horror answers his question "usual? Day... two max... and for the food it is a hard no. It can upset his magic and his magic will start expelling anything not the same. meaning he would just... lose more magic as he vomits it up." a sad but resigned look.

Cross frowns and nods "not even soup? that is liquid adn stuff..."

Horror shakes his skull "Still too heavy and sitll not like his own body and his own magic."

Cross frowns and tries to give him a reassuring smile "Well... We will just need to keep some fruits and yogurt ready. For when his magic settles a bit." Horror usually gives Nightmare that when Nightmare's magic can't absorb a lot of food.

Horror considers it before nodding his own agreement.

Cross takes a moment to lean back and relax. just a moment. Just because he can enjoy the sight of Horror having Dust in his lap and Nightmare comfortable and safe in their combined arms. It is nice. Cross loves seeing these moments. Being part of them is just as amazing!

The door opens and Cross turns quickly and waits. the sound of a lock turning and moments later Killer walks into the room. looking slightly done but he gives them a thumbs up "We should be good. Gave them the rundown and talked them into the right direction."

Horror nods as he gives his own small rundown on Nightmare's health.

Dust sighs and mutters "Talking about health... He needs a bath..." Nightmare nods but doesn't pull away from the hug.

Cross smiles and nods "Good idea! YOu can take Nightmare and get him comfortable and I will guard you guys as Killer and Horror get ready for bed too!" then after all of them are comfortable Cross will quickly get ready for bed and join them and just get to enjoy feeling them all near.

Killer steps in "Actually. Horror you mind helping Dust with Nighty?" Horror already shakes his shoulder as he gets up. Taking both Dust and Nightmare towards the bathroom.

Cross frowns and turns to Killer.

Oh. He is mad.

Furious even.

Killer glares but still has that smile on his face "We need to talk." and he grabs his hand and pulls him along. Cross doesnt'fight it as they end up in their green house.

It is gorgeous in here. Especially at night as the moon light shines in through the glass panes and reflects of everything in here. These plants are already full grown and some are starting to bare fruit again. All the plants in here are magical in nature to help them get food that they actually need in their diet.

Killer glares at him full force and Cross can't help but think he fits in perfectly. He is just as pretty if not even more.

Damnit Cross. Skull in the game. Not the moment.

Killer glares at him and hisses "Waht were you thinking?"

Cross glares back "I was getting Nightmare out and to safety. Sorry I wasn't sneaky enough or caused issues with the police!"

Killer groans as he rubs his face "I don't give a flying fuck about the police Cross! You think I care? No! I will fly through my teeth and think of a solution. I can deal with that! YOu know what I can't deal with? You going to fight a threat on your own! Alone! One we don't know!"

Cross glares "There was no other option."

Killer glares back "There was! We could have moved as a team Cross!"

Cross throws up his arms "Not fast enough! And I was fine! THose assholes didn't even come close to hurting me!"

Killer groans and grabs him by the skull and pulls him down to glare at him fully "How can I get it through to you that you stop treating yourself as expandable?!"

Cross stops and mtuters "what?"

Killer glares at him "of course we were going to go after him as soon as we could! Of course we were going to cause trouble! Of course we were going to hurt those who did it and make sure they never did it again! We all would have! But you! You going out on your own and going to confront a threat on your own?! One we don't even know? Damnit Cross it could have been someone form the multiverse! Someone who COULD actually hurt us!" He glares at him "When are you finally going to believe we don't want you to get hurt either?!"

Cross can't think. It has been such a long day and he was so afraid of having done stuff wrong or be too slow or made a mistake... and the only thing he did wrong was... get himself in danger? to not take backup? Cross blinks "what..?" he is so tired and Killer is there.

Killer's anger seems to disappear as he just looks desperate "Why do you still think we don't want to help you? Why do you still think your hurt matters less than ours?"

Cross can't answer. because answering means... means... They are everything to him. They are the world and Cross just wants them to be happy... Is that so bad?

Killer frowns as he removes one of his hands from his skull and Cross wants it back. then the hand rubs under his sockets and oh... he is crying. damnit. Cross hates the fact he cries quickly.

Killer frowns and speaks softer "Hey... I get it... emotions ran high and all that stuff... I.... I am mad but just becuase you could have been hurt... you know?" Killer looks to the side.

Cross nods as he watching Killer. It is just still so rare for Cross to see Killer as anything but confident or smug... Killer looks almost awkward like this... it is cute.

Killer sighs but gives agrin "We are on the same page now? No needly sacrificing! Even no needed sacrificing!"

Cross mutters a yes. too afraid that moving will remove the hands holding his skull.

Killer grins widely "good! Then we can go to the others and I will remind you of this conversation if you start slipping again and-"

They are kissing.

Cross isn't even sure how this happened. But Cross is 99% sure it is his fault.

Cross opens his sockets and sees Killer just staring at him. Frozen. Cross pulls back right away "I shouldn't have done that..." shit. shit shit shit shit shit-

Killer's hands got a lot tighter and he pulls him close and.... they are kissing again.

How does this keep happening?!

Killer pulls away and grins "there! Now we both did it! problem solved!" he looks so nervous.

Cross blinks and can't help but mutter again "Really shouldn't have done that..." he is a fucking idiot and selfish and-

Killer's hold gets almost painfully tight "why not?" it isn't a shout. Not even normal volume. it sounds quiet and... sad... Killer then snorts and winks "Not interested after all?" Cross would have beleived him if he couldn't still see the very light grey eye lights in his normally dark sockets.

Cross shakes his skull then nods then groans "it isn't... it isn't that.. I lo-like! Like you a lot! And I like this! But. It is unfair because i don't just love you! I love Dust... I love horror. It is unfair to start something when... when part of me isn't in it! Isn't all here for it and... and... I am sorry... I really shouldn't have and... and..." and they are kissing again. fuck this keeps happening and Cross just wants more each time.

Killer pulls away with a grin "Well... first... that solves the issue as I also very much want to date both Horror and Dust. So i am sure we can figure something out!"

Cross blinks "You cna just do that? Date multiple people?"

killer stares at him for a moment "Right... I keep forgetting that you were stuck in a universe that was pretty much a cult."

Cross glares at Killer "Stop calling XTale a cult."

Killer raises a brow "Fine. Just because we got more important stuff to talk about... Yes you can dat emultiple people as long as everyone connected to this dating situation is okay with it. it means you are in a polyamory relationship." he grins "probably makes you poly too! That you want a relationship with multiple people and stuff."

Cross blinks and shrugs "i dunno about that... I found many people attractive but well... I only ever really wanted to be with you three..." he feels hismelf blush and looks tot he side.

Killer laughs adn gives him a soft and short kiss on the teeth before backing off. He gives him a grin and nods to the door "We should get back to the others..."

Cross rubs his arm as he glances at the door "Waht about... this?" us? Them? all of them? together? Cross hadn't known that was an option! This is like the perfect solution!

Killer laughs before grinning "We will have to see if they are interested... But first we need a moment to wind down... it has been one fucking hellish day and I jsut want to hug our baby and sleep."

Cross feels the exhaustion all over again and he sighs "I agree..."

They walk out of the greenhouse together and get dressed for bed quickly. Cross does sneak a few glances at Killer. No longer feeling bad for sneaking looks and admiring one of them now. Now that it is okay. At least wiht Killer.

They will have to dicuss with Horror and Dust what this means for them and what is even possible and what everyone is comfortable with.

But first? Time to sleep with their child and relax. They need it... and Cross thinks they deserved it too.

*--------------------*

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

[meowmeowriley]

Elder Emo

Ghost had been lost in thought, planning out his lessons for the following day, when he'd passed a room in the barracks and faintly heard music. Paramore? Normally he'd hear rock, pop, or occasionally something in Japanese. Not emo. Not what he'd been expecting, but a pleasant little throwback for him. He smiled to himself as he made to walk away, taking a mental note to pull up his old playlist and get lost in nostalgia later. But then he caught a bit of the conversation happening in the room.

"No she didn't tell me what it was all for, I stole it, dipshit."

"Why does she need 700 different eyeliners?"

"Are they different? Or is she just a hoarder?"

"Nah, mate. Some are like sticks, crayons, others are liquid. This one says eyeliner, but it looks like the eyeshadow stuff."

"That eyeshadow stuff is useless. Comes off too easily."

The two men were crowded around one's bed, it had been littered with a bunch of makeup, and they didn't seem to know what each was for.

"This is stupid."

"You said you wanted to finally have your emo phase, this is where it starts." The second man picked up a bottle of liquid eyeliner and leaned in close to the mirror, posed to paint his lower waterline with it. Ghost could no longer keep quiet.

"That's a mistake." His voice cause both recruits to jump, scrambling to salute. He rolled his eyes, but returned the gesture, if only to release the two.

He approached the bed scattered with makeup. Ghost couldn't say that he'd ever spoke to either of them, but he'd be damned if he didn't set them on the right path before they fucked themselves over here. "The liquid is for around your eyes, gives a bolder look than the stick. It's not for your waterline, you'll give yourself an eye infection like that." He handed the first soldier his choice in liner from the menagerie before them. "The liquid is bolder, but it smears, not smudges. If you're going for emo, you'll want a smudged look, the stick is better. Lay it on thick, and use your fingers to spread it around and smudge it out. And if it says waterproof, believe it. You'll need makeup remover to get that off." He said that last bit pointedly. If it weren't for regs, he'd let them just leave it like he had. Day old eyeliner that you slept in after a concert always looked so much cooler than when it had been freshly applied, at least in his opinion. Then another thought occurred to him. "Who'd you steal all this from?"

"Uhm... my sister... sir." The first man admitted sheepishly.

"Hmmm." Better a sibling than another soldier. "Give it back. You're in the army. You've been issued war paint, use that." He shrugged. Then added "I do."

The pair were quiet, clearly still not quite sure what was happening. "As you were." Ghost nodded and started to take his leave.

The second cleared his throat. "Uh... ahem... any uh... any music recommendations?"

Ghost turned in the doorway. He thought for a moment, and then "Well, you're listening to Paramore. If you want music from the same time, there's always Hawthorne Heights or Blink-182. You want something heavier look into Breaking Benjamin. Or more upbeat go for All Time Low. If you want something newer, Twenty One Pilots just released some new songs, or there's TX2, who draws a lot of inspiration from the greats. That's a start."

Both men smiled. The first spoke up. "Thank you, sir. This'll be a lot easier with an elder emo around."

Elder emo? Who- oh. Ohhhhh. When? How did that happen? He wasn't supposed to make it this far. Huh.

"Anytime." He nodded as he left them. He tried not to let his emotions show as he made his way down the hall, but internally he was brimming with pride. He'd made it so much further than anyone had ever thought, especially himself. It took a couple of baby emo's for him to see it, but he'd made it. He was still here. Despite the odds.

[blank468]

My somewhat final thoughts of My Hero Academia

Note: Now that MHA is now doing an epilogue and is ending soon, I might as well give my final thoughts about this series. I’ll probably continue to talk more about it after the series is officially over but I’m not going to do a full fledged hour long review because I have better things to do.

This is a generic shonen empowerment fantasy that managed to screw its own theme and message. Any good will I would’ve given to series at the beginning is completely irrelevant as it when on. The morals and themes are constantly changing to throw random s**t on a sheet of paper that either doesn’t make sense, contradicts what being shown on screen, or if it doesn’t fits the tone of the story. My hero is not a deconstruction of the shonen genre that does anything new that would make it stand out. Most of the ideas and plot points created either have horrible execution, given no amount of attention where they’re just ignored or just have horrible payoffs. It follows all the exact same tropes seen in every other series and makes them worse. It also gets to the point where it rips off Naruto and makes the same mistakes it did. The amount of plot twists that are excused as some kind of subversion are obnoxious and predictable where’s it gets incredibly annoying. The world building is horrendous and just makes the story feel small for a world that has a life changing impact. The power scale doesn’t always make sense and it does nothing but act as a way to reward characters that didn’t earn it.

It has a dangerous and horrible message for victims of abuse and bullying. My hero has no problem telling the audience that if you’re a victim of any kind of abuse, it’s your problem and you should just act like it’s not a big issue. Apparently it’s ok lie to your friends, family and colleagues that you can trust but it’s not ok to lie or even hold accountable to your abuser. And no matter if he/she has a reason for the way they are, you are always in the wrong and you should spend your sad life praising and benefiting them.

There exists way too many characters for the audience to be invested in and after watching them for several arcs, they are just stereotypes with nothing new or original about them. Many of them come across as either being stupid, annoying, useless, unlikeable, petty, ignorant or just both. Some characters will either exist to benefit others or just highjack the story, ruining every other character’s chance to get any sort spotlight. The series is way too reliant on putting focus on unpleasant and uninteresting characters to please its large audience. The humor is way too reliant on a character’s personality trait. No matter what they do, the story expects us to automatically like them regardless of how horrible and selfish their actions are. Izuku may not be the worst character, but he’s no where near as great as everyone hypes him up to be. Bakugo is an unbearable mess of a character that serves no real purpose in the story and exists to take away every characters chance of development. His development is one of the laziest and obnoxious parts I have ever seen in any story and yet he’s the most popular sadist in the show with no sort of reason or sympathy for me to like him. Any criticism given to this d**khead is automatically shot down and people like me get harassed and called a brain dead immature f*g for stating our opinion.

Aside from Twice and Gentle/ La Brava, these villains are not that interesting and what ever traits about them gave them something to do is absence. Shigaraki is the stories biggest wasted potential that went from being an idiot to being an incompetent idiot to benefit my left nutsack. Toga is a Mary Stu who went from being a sad and annoying character to an annoying and self centered bitch who complains after being told her actions are wrong. Dabi is just a Gary Stu who’s only interested in wanting to kill his dad. Spinner is a joke that is constantly scammed by his creator.

The only saving grace I can give to this series is the art style of the manga and some parts of the Todoroki family drama. I can even say that Horikoshi’s art style and how he designs characters and panel designs inspired me as an artist. The anime as a whole is fine but it’s not perfect, but that’s mostly because it doesn’t do a whole lot of creatively/artistic things to make it on par with the most popular anime series. As an artist, I would recommend my hero as a reference to use to improve your work. If you just want to read or watch a series that has fights that just make you feel some kind of emotion, then you might get something out of this series. It’s not even the absolute worst thing I’ve seen; I’ve seen much worse in other genres other than shonen manga. It’s just rare to find a badly written series without being surrounded by d**kriders. It’s just a disaster of a series, and I wished I spent my time during the pandemic watching another series like Demon Slayer, or Black Clover.

[fixinit-au]

THE FIXINIT AU

"A different form, A different time"

After Bill Cipher invoked the Axolotl's name, the deity sends him to Theraprism, to go under indefinite karmic rehabilitation.

After hundreds of years of therapy, Bill has lost count. After useless attempts to break free, to resist professional help, to make himself believe that he will be free... Eventually, he gave up. Went along with whatever they wanted. Let them believe that this is actually worth something... He let Theraprism strip him of his own self, let himself become a shell of everything he once was; What's the point, if he will never be the same anyway, he will never be FREE?

This was it, until the Axolotl has made their decision, regarding Bill's case. He was always a special case, after all... And so he got a special chance. To be with a special someone.

Bill Cipher, now transported back to our dimension, wakes up in a human body, in the 1980's... And with a mission, which the Axolotl said to be his final trial;

"Fix his mistakes, before he even made them."

FIXINIT1:

A human Bill Cipher, back in the 80's.

Bill is given a human body, the body of a creature who he always thought to be lowly and pathetic.

But other than that, he is given a mission, or rather, a "list" of the final things Bill has to get done, that would finally put an end to his karmic rehabilitation at Theraprism.

What does that list contain? Only one person knows; And that is Axel; or, rather, the Axolotl themselves, disguised in a human body, to watch and monitor Bill's progress. To finally let him go, and give him a chance at the life he didn't know he want, there are things that need to be done. Just to name a few; "comfort someone", "open up to someone you trust", but most importantly... "Tell Ford the truth".

(That's right, this is just another Billford AU. Sorry if you thought otherwise.)

Ford Pines, as he canonically did in this time period, lives in Gravity Falls, doing research, building the interdimensional portal... Still believing Bill to be his brilliant, all-knowing Muse. So when he finds his so-called Muse, in a human form, all alone in the forest... You could say he's confused, but more importantly, he is overjoyed to welcome his Muse to his own dimension, regardless of why. So he takes him in, much to his own delight... But also to his assistant's dismay.

#FIXINIT1 focuses on the question; Will Bill be able to change the past, or is he doomed to make the same mistakes? Crippling with depression, identity crisis, and a feeling of hollowness after all the centuries spent at Theraprism, sprinkled with the pressure of eventually having to tell the truth, therefore being frustrate to no end with Ford still worshipping him with blind trust and calling him Muse, Bill is forced to confront himself, in order to finally get his second chance at like, and his second chance at getting Ford.

RELATIONSHIPS; There may or may not be a romance sideplot with Fiddleford and eventually Stan.

Setting: Heavy with angst, occasional fluff and overall Mystery Quartet whimsiness.

Main themes: Forgiveness, second chances, identity crisis, survivor's guilt, PTSD, trust issues, body dysphoria, vulnerability.

FIXINIT2:

Gravity Falls; But Bill is not the villain.

Let's jump 30 years ahead, shall we?

Going with the route that Bill reveals the truth about his true self and his lies, and Ford, taking his time to consider it carefully, but ultimately forgives him. And they kiss. And they do more, but let's not get into that.

What does it change, regarding the canon timeline? The portal-test and portal-incident never happen; Ford and Bill managed to find another way to uncover Gravity Falls' weirdness. What's the Mystery Shack in the canon timeline, is now their own, small research center. Given how the portal-test never happens; Fiddleford doesn't go insane. His memory may be a bit messy because of previous uses of the memory gun, but he's in a much better shape, helping Bill and Ford with building their equipment, and also creating and selling his own inventions. Given how the portal-incident never happens either; Stan (having reconciled with Ford in a different way, more on that in FIXINIT1), is in a relationship with Fiddleford, and also runs a smaller, but also (kinda) more real gift shop.

#FIXINIT2; In this fixed timeline, Bill is also like an uncle (Grunkle? Not sure what Bill would count tbh) to Dipper and Mabel, a very fun one at that. A partner-in-crime, if you will; Someone who escorts them on their adventures, provides them with all the information they need, and fiercely protecting them if needed.

But, you might ask... If the canon Bill is now reformed, what's the point? What makes this interesting? Who is the "big threat", if not Bill Cipher?

(First of all, how dare you– I love tooth-rotting fluff and happiness, okay?)

Someone eerily similar to what Bill once was. Someone who might remind him of his journey, and how much of a thin line is keeping him from turning back. Someone who can provide a cruel, twisted mirror, forcing Bill to once again reflect on everything that now would be just brushed off as an inside joke.

That's right. Pyramid Steve. And his goal of bringing the Oddpocalypse.

Setting: At first, lots of fluff, whimsiness and happiness. Just fun! And the second half... Kinda like the canon finale, yknow.

Main themes: Second chances, identity crisis, found family, bits of psychological horror??? Thank that to Steve. (Might add more later, this is the more wip of the two)

————————————————————————

There are hundreds of Bill AUs flying around since the release of TBOB, so I might as well make my own, yknow?

As the name and the unusual amount of happiness (?) suggests, this started out as a redemption/fix-it AU. Why? Because I'm a goddamn pussy and I need my favorite characters to be happy, even if it doesn't make any sense canon-wise.

OR HAVING FUN, I GUESS

So yeah. Into the Cipherverse

————————————————————————

GALLERY

1. human Bill; canon design

2. Overall Bill without clothes (for science)

3. FIXINIT1 Bill; The Twink

4. FIXINIT2 Bill; The Uncle

5. Axel; Axolotl's human form

6. human Bill; secondary reference

7. FORD: Main Reference

8. BILL: Main Reference

9. BILL: Details

10. Pyramid Steve

[drdemonprince]

I recently finished reading your book Unlearning Shame, and I absolutely loved it. I found the conceptual framework of Internalized Shame and your techniques for it so very helpful, especially when most ideas of mental health (anxiety and depression, trauma, etc.) have seemed insufficient and useless to me.

However, there was one thing that kind of bugged me the whole way through reading it. Your primary focus was the shame people face as part of marginalization, but often, this too felt insufficient for me. Like, I do face a lot of this flavor of shame: I'm an autistic trans woman, feeling like I'm cringey or childish or creepy or obscene or whatever are things that bug me daily, and restrict a lot of my freedom.

However, a lot of the shame I deal with stems from some kind of awful things I've done in the past, and this is perhaps the loneliest and most difficult kind of shame I deal with. To be fair, I think a lot of this has been very closely linked to my marginalization: people would interpret genuine mistakes of mine as signs I was some awful, manipulative predator, and quickly oust me from their friend groups as a result. If I had been an allistic cis man I would have faced far gentler behavior, or at least far more people would have justified the shit I did.

Regardless, very little in the book dealt with shame tied to guilt and wrongdoing. I remember there was mostly just this one tantalizing line about how even previous members of neonazi groups can benefit from speaking shame, but other than that, I didn't see much.

So my question here is, do you know how to deal with the shame of doing something really bad, and facing the consequences?

Thank you for asking, I'm glad you liked the book!

There are answers for you throughout the book, I think. Arguably, many of the examples of shame I outline involve feeling regret or shame over one's actions. People who do not recycle "enough" and feel profound shame and anxiety about it are people who have done something "wrong," in their minds. So are people who have repeated internalized transphobic/racist/fatphobic/etc messages to other people who share the same identities as them. These people's actions are systemically caused, and they are suffering from those same systemic forces that provoked them to take actions they feel bad about.

You aren't any more morally culpable than any of them, and you aren't qualitatively different from them -- even if you are likely telling yourself that what you did is so much "worse" and so much less justified.

You can find much of the advice that I apply to people who feel ashamed about an experience (a rape survivor, say), apply equally to you as someone who might have done something you view as "wrong." You can also look to the material in chapters 7 and 8 about finding grace and perspective for others who have done wrong to us, and apply much of that yourself. A person must be held in community before they can be held accountable, for example. Understanding the circumstances that contributed to your behavior is important, which it sounds like you've already done some work on, as is contemplating the needs you were attempting to meet with your actions, and the social supports you currently still need in order to move forward.

If someone has taken actions that go against even their own morals and they feel profoundly ashamed about it, I'd say they are generally still in a state of far-reaching systemic shame that goes far deeper and requires far more healing and support than just addressing the morality of their own actions. There's usually a lot of shame about one's identities, deprivation one is facing, fears of abandonment and attachment insecurities, and other major issues going on. Because a person wouldn't just violate their own moral precepts for no good reason.

No one wants to feel that they are a horrible person according to their own personal standards of goodness. A person's actions always make sense within their own context, and so when someone does something "wrong," either they have done something that they do not actually believe to be wrong, but fear societal judgement for, or they have been pushed to the brink by extreme distress, deprivation, abuse, indoctrination, political repression, exclusion, or likely a combination of those things.

I hope this is making sense. If you feel ashamed of something you have done, you need the exact same healing, safe vulnerability, social support, and trust as someone who is ashamed about something over which they have no control. There is no difference, you are no more deserving of that shame, and shame still will not prevent you from changing your behavior for the better. You can believe wholly that your actions in the past were wrong, and uphold your current values in the present, without deserving to feel any more shame about it.

[psychopathseraphim]

sammy lawrence x selfharmer!reader

tw: extreme anger from sammy's end, self-inflicted harm, forceful revealing of scars

as sammy lawrence's assistant director, you really only have one job (because sammy tends to do everything on his own); to check on how the music plays alongside the film. during your first few days as an intern, you had some issues with syncing the music, but now that it's been a few months or so, this task has come naturally to you.

one day, however, tension within the studio was high, mainly because a short was destined to come out tomorrow (anytime tomorrow) and the music department was rushing to create songs for it. not to have a complex but you were extremely certain that it was only you and sammy that deserved a place in the credits, with how the other interns (including jack fain) failed to cooperate and contribute.

sammy was extremely on-edge that same evening, especially due to the sleep-deprivation catching up to him. desperately he wrote scores and edited notes to be performed and recorded by you both; you were somewhat afraid due to your knowledge about certain instruments being short and cut-off. you didn't want to press the man, especially not tonight.

however, after submitting a scene you synchronized the music to, sammy found out about a certain error- a song for an extremely crucial part was mixed up with another song. . . this angered sammy extremely, especially because he didn't necessarily have extra time on his hands to tweak it. feeling like his trust in you was misplaced, he called you over.

"(y/n), look at this. haven't we talked multiple times about this song being for this scene?!" his voice started to get louder as his anger continued to rise. "you have ONE thing to do, (y/n)! you're in the luckier end of the rope- try being in my shoes! if I were you, I wouldn't make a single mistake!"

somewhat scared, you grab onto the hem of your shirt and look down. nervously, you try to reason with him: "I-I'm sorry, there must have been an error in the syst-"

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT ANY ERRORS IN THE SYSTEM! who else is behind the system if not you?! God, you interns are useless." he spat back, his voice booming and echoing throughout the whole studio, probably letting other late-staying employees know that you were being yelled at. before you knew it, your eyes were glassy and filled with tears, and crying in front of your boss would be embarrassing. turning around and gathering the work you made a mistake on, you excuse yourself to the bathroom.

self-harm was something you found comfort in, sad to say. you always kept a blade inside a mini-notepad you'd stuff inside your pocket; it yearned to be used when sammy was screaming at you. sitting inside of a bathroom stall, you sink to the ground, roll down your sleeves, and prepare your arms.

your arms were already littered with scars; old, new. . . it didn't matter because no one noticed. you weren't a little kid anymore, having your parents check your wrists to see if you were still doing the "bad thing". you were an adult and did whatever you want. . . so here you were, doing just that.

you idolized sammy, and being the cause of his frustration-

one cut.

how could you? as his assistant, you're supposed to help him-

two cuts.

not anger him. not make his stress worse-

three cuts.

by then, your wrists were dripping with blood that you made sure couldn't touch your sleeves. you wash your wrists, your blade, and exit the bathroom almost like nothing ever happened.

you were stressed, too, and you didn't need sammy to know about how you got rid of it. he'd find you weird and tell joey and the others about you. you could lose your job and get send to a hospital or a clinic. sammy could laugh at you; all up in your face, and send you off to find a better intern.

you didn't want to think of sammy like that, but you knew he acted exactly like that.

as you entered the music department office, you noticed that sammy didn't even lift his head to check on who entered. he's probably extremely annoyed of me, you come to think as you take your seat. for the next few moments, work goes on an usual, before sammy lifts his head to look at something in a shelf above you.

"(y/n)," he said, stern, but definitely calmer than the last time he spoke to you, "see that book up there? music theory is its name. get it for me now."

with no answer on your behalf, you stand up and reach for it. although you do grab it, your sleeve rides up and for a second, your raw, red-tinted scars are revealed to your boss, who has been staring at you this entire time.

trying to brush it off while praying to God he didn't see your scars, you hand him the book with your sleeve being held tightly by your fingers. some blood presses on your sleeve for a bit.

"here, sir," you said.

"... (y/n)- what was that?" he asked, his tone agitated once more which gave you a sense of fear once more.

"what was what, sir-"

"no, don't try to play it off like that, I'm being serious-" he grabs your wrists and forcefully pulls your sleeve back. with a gasp, you cover your scars on your wrist with your other hand. sammy, however, easily pulls it off to reveal scars and new cuts.

"(y/n)." he says angrily, "what the fuck is this?"

"I..." you're brought to tears once again with his tone of voice and the sense of fear you feel within you. please don't yell at me, or tell on me. I'm not weird, I promise, you think as if he could hear you. "I just... they're old..."

he inspects your new cuts and shakes his head with furrowed brows. "these are not old, (y/n). stop lying. tell me now- why would you do this?"

"the pressure, sir." you managed to say, praying to God sammy won't ridicule you or compare your stresses to his. "I didn't want to be the main cause of your frustrations. it's not as bad as it seems, I don't do that religiously... it's just a way to get rid of stress."

it's quiet for a bit, before sammy sighs, gets up off his chair, and walks off. he comes back shortly after holding a first aid kit, sits down, and grasps your wrist...gently, this time. he opens the first aid kit, grabs for a cotton ball coated with betadine, and places it on your cuts.

you wince first, expecting it to sting (as usual, whenever you'd cut yourself). sammy lets out a chuckle at this- "it's betadine, (y/n). it's not supposed to sting."

"oh. right." is all you utter out.

it's silence once more, and sammy breaks this once more- "(y/n), I'm sorry I yelled at you earlier- I really hope these cuts aren't as bad as you make it, though. I was irritated, that's all. I'm sorry." he continues on, "you're not useless- you're far from that. you're a good intern, and a better assistant."

these words make your heart flutter. perhaps there was more to idolizing sammy lawrence than you knew- than it was platonic. perhaps there was a bit of romance in it; something you'd never admit to him- ever.

the night ends with this, and you return home with treated cuts and a much better feeling within you.

the next day is the premiere of the newest bendy episode- that stupid dancing demon, the cause of all your stress. all of the staff members watch intensely; sammy watches for any musical errors, joey watches for any animation errors- that kind of thing.

fortunately, the episode ends without any errors spoken by the heads, and all of the staff members rejoice. two interns in the far back high-five, and joey returns to his office with a more relieved and happy expression on his face.

once everyone leaves for food and wine, sammy approaches you.

"(y/n), good job." he says with a rare smile on his mouth. "I knew you could do it. how are your cuts?"

"they're fine, sir." you respond. they were fine- alongside that, so were you.

[shrinkthisviolet]

I will never understand people's obsession with hating on the "We are the Flash" scene. I mean, duh, Iris isn't saying "We all have superspeed and fight crime"! She's telling Barry that he doesn't have to be alone. That his loved ones and relationships make him stronger, and they make him who he is.

YEP same! It’s obviously a metaphor, and really, it’s representative of what a married couple IS. They share burdens, share the weight, share it all!! Sure, she can’t don a costume and go out with him (unless she’s a speedster, which has happened more than once), but she can still be there to catch him and support him through his problems, come up with solutions, just like she always does when he lets her in!

Barry in general has a communication problem, and Iris is right to call him out for that. She’s his WIFE, not just his best friend anymore, she deserves to be part of big decisions.

Not to mention…Barry has said this to Iris twice already:

“Without you, there wouldn’t be the Flash.” ~Season 1

“Whether you realize it or not, there is no Flash without Iris West.” ~Season 2

(Notably, he says the latter to reassure her that she’s not useless in STAR Labs—she’s needed, very much so. And he’s right!)

And HE is in fact the one who says “We are the Flash” verbatim after Iris says it, twice (both in season 4 iirc).

Exhibit A:

IRIS: You’re the Flash

BARRY: No. We are.

Exhibit B:

BARRY: Remember: We’re the Flash

IRIS: (smiling softly, clearly reassured) We’re the Flash

And mind you, the original quote Iris said is as follows:

“When I put this ring on my finger, it wasn’t about you or me anymore, it was about us. You are not the Flash, Barry. We are.”

It was a METAPHOR, it was telling him to be more open, it was a reminder of what marriage means! And most importantly, it was something Barry needed to hear!

They still have communication issues after this anyway, because the writers refuse to let Barry learn and grow from his mistakes, BUT this was something he needed to hear and, in my dream world, a lesson he took to heart and grew from.

[divaofmads]

Forever In My Heart | King Baldwin

Part I | Part II

Gif by @princess-of-thebes-1995 Dividers by @saradika-graphics pictures by Pinterest

Summary: Baldwin knew that his illness would not allow him to live long. Unfortunately, he did not have an heir to leave the throne to, and since he was of French origin, he demanded an heir from the French kingdom to take over the throne after he died. So King Louis VII sent his younger son and his wife to go to Jerusalem and make a deal with the King.

Warnings! : Toxic Relationship, (King Baldwin is 20, Prince Hugh is 25, Y/N is 19), No Y/N using (Princess Maria), Inspired by history. It is not real historical events exactly, There are chronological mistakes, I apologize for the mistakes I made in English that is not my native language and I am trying to improve my writing skills

A/N: No one's religious beliefs were disrespected. The story was written by researching the ideas of that period.

A/N 2 : You can imagine whoever you want to play the bad guy(Please comment who do you imagine).

" 5th June 1173

My lover who is more beautiful than anything. My lady with lips sweeter than honey, a complexion that would make the moon jealous, and eyes brighter than the sun. The angel who inspires me. You're in my dreams when I sleep, you're the first thing that comes to my mind when I wake up. I miss you so much that every day we are apart I pray to Jesus that my father will return from crusade as soon as possible and start making preparations for our wedding.

After that incident, after the doctors had a dilemma about whether I might be sick, I thought that your father the emperor wanted our engagement not to be official, using his relations with the Seljuk State as an excuse. Forgive me for such impertinent ideas, my love. I would never betray you and your family. However, the crusades that my father Amalric started against the Fatimids by joining forces with the French and Germans showed me that what prevents our marriage is fate. But I know. No matter how late it is, our lives will be united, you will be the most respected queen the Latin kingdom has ever seen. Christian and Muslim healers will soon produce a cure for my illness together. Don't think about me. I will be fine, knowing that you love me gives me strength, my queen. Always be happy, be healthy. Always remember me. Dream about our future during the days we are apart, because I do. May the God who reigns in the heavens and watches over the whole world protect you.

I think the reason you didn't reply to my previous two letters is because you were busy, but this time I'm eagerly waiting for you to reply to my letter, my love. My heart is with you forever."

Who could love a man whom even God has cursed?

1180 4th June

When the night covered the lands of Jerusalem like a blanket, Baldwin stood by the window and watched his kingdom. God had given this holy city to the Crusaders and had stood by them. The Latin kingdom acted as a protector against the increasingly powerful Muslim invaders. Although the failure of the 2nd Crusade had caused a lack of trust among the Crusader countries, he was the only great king who was able to unite the Holy Land after his father Amalric died. His people were pleased with him. Despite being a Crusader commander, he did not want anyone to be treated unfairly, regardless of religion or race. But why did the king not feel proud when his people loved him so much?

When he looked at his reflection in the golden goblet he held in his hand, the answer to the question was actually very clear. Despite everything, he was the cursed king. He was weak and incapable for Muslims. How could a king who was struggling for his own health deal with state issues? He was also a servant lower than a pig. He was created so ugly because they did not believe in the same god. Just as ugly and useless as a pig. Saladin should have been ashamed of himself for being defeated by a king who was a child and a leper in the battle of Montgisard. But no one had thought about it. His smart moves in the army and state administration, his choice of advisors and the poor-looking king proved his power. He was the only king who came into being on the bed to manage the war. His courage had inspired the painter.

It was normal for Muslims to spread such prejudiced and hostile gossip, of course. But it was the Christians whose ideas he had to fight against. They thought that God had cursed Baldwin when he was born. He was the one God did not like. He knew how dark his soul was when he created him. When he grew up, the devil would be his guide. He was a cruel, barbaric ruler whose mind worked for nothing but evil. Leprosy was his mark and badge for his past and future sins. He was branded so that the people would notice and stay away from this devil.

He had long forgotten his identity. The man he saw in the reflection in the goblet, with a rotting skin, was either a pig or a devil.

But he was not human in either world. When he could no longer hide this curse and his fiancée did not even deign to write him a farewell letter, he lost the last feeling that would remind him of his humanity. Love. No one loved a pig, they would detest it. No one would stray from God's path and fall in love with the devil. He would rather die. And what were the feelings? What were the longing and love he felt in his heart? Moreover, what was the sadness that was hidden behind these two feelings and spread throughout his body? These feelings grew stronger after he received the news that the crown prince of France and his wife, the Byzantine Princess Maria, would arrive in Jerusalem tomorrow. Could a pig long for? Could a barbarian be sad, or could the devil love?

Baldwin could no longer bear to see the truth reflected in the globe and threw it to the ground. So many years passed. Baldwin stood strong against the gossip about him. He only loved his kingdom and swore to protect it. He rewarded the oppressed and punished the oppressors so that people could live in peace and not have hostile feelings. However, the seeds of love that had been waiting to sprout in his heart for years blossomed with the news that he would see the woman he loved again, and the king felt hopeless.

As the medicinal drink spilled from the glass that fell to the ground spread on the stone floor, the bare parts of his maskless, bandaged face reappeared before him like a nightmare. As his breathing rhythm quickened, he heard a voice.

"When the Physicians were preparing the drink, I could tell from the smell that it tasted bad."

When Baldwin looked in the direction of the voice, he saw William coming from the darkness. The only source of light in the room was the moonlight.

"William," he said, trying to hide his emotions, "I didn't hear you come in."

William smiled warmly. "You wouldn't have heard of it if there was a rebellion, your majesty, and forgive my impudence, but the reason for this has to do with your guests tomorrow."

Baldwin turned toward the city. "I was sure I would never see her again. But now, in the castle of Kerak, Raybald of Châtillon is hosting them."

William looked at the king. "Indeed, you should have known this day would come. Your relations with the Kingdom of France are strong."

"Maybe I was just afraid that day would come."

"You're still in love with her."

"Every minute I thought I had forgotten her, my longing for her grew my love."

"Princess Maria was a good match for you. She was very intelligent, kind, and combative. A fine queen for the Latin kingdom," he said, and the melancholy gaze of Baldwin, which he did not want to show, gave him away, caused William to apologize. "I apologize if I went too far, your majesty. I just wanted to recall a pleasant memory."

A beautiful memory. It was true. Every moment Baldwin spent with the princess was special. He could talk and laugh for hours about any memory he recalled. Baldwin was not born into a loving family. When he ascended to the throne, his kingdom was on the verge of division. His illness pretended him weak against his enemies. But in all his misfortunes, Maria was his white rose, and no matter how pessimistic he felt a moment ago, he now smiled because of her.

A bitter smile, ""Do you think she can still wield a sword skillfully?"

He had the same bitter smile on his face. ""There is no doubt about that, your majesty. Perhaps once they are settled in the palace you can challenge her to a duel and see for yourself."

Although this idea sounded nice at first, the facts were obvious. He replied in a reproachful tone, as if rebelling against fate. "How can I do this when I can't use my limbs and can't see in one eye, William, tell me!" He looked harshly.

"These words do not seem to belong to you, my king. Weren't you the king who learned to use a sword with his left arm because his right arm betrayed him at every opportunity? You designed special stirrups for your numb legs. You led fights with that blind eye of yours. Now don't tell me you avoided a duel with a 19-year-old young woman."

"I don't want her to see me like this, Will. My body is decaying day by day. God's curse is growing stronger and my resistance to pain is diminishing." He looked at the view again. "I don't want her to remember me like this. She confessed that she was amazed by my beauty the night we fell in love. He turned back to William and pointed his finger at his face. Look at my current state, the boy she fell in love with is dead. The Leper King was the end of that beautiful boy."

Baldwin suddenly felt unwell and William held him as he collapsed to the ground, his legs shaking.

"Your Majesty, you need to rest now."

William called to the servants to take Baldwin to bed. The servants came to them in a hurry and, taking kings arm, carried him to the bed. One left to get water. Another was adjusting his pillows. Finally William warned them to leave the room and approached Baldwin.

"You have always been a good boy, Baldwin. You are the best king the Latin Kingdom has ever seen. No ruler after you will be able to hold these lands together."

"I would not want this. I hope that people will recognize my efforts and protect the lands from hostile armies."

Before leaving William Baldwin's room, he spoke one last time. "Prince Hugh will take more care of you both, your majesty. Be careful."

Maria had been nervous since they arrived at the castle of Kerak. Representing the Komnenos dynasty had been a heavy burden on her shoulders. About six years before she was born, dark times had passed over Manuel I and the Byzantine lands. Constantinople had been sacked, the city almost destroyed. Châtillon had been the emperor's worst nightmare until Manuel took revenge on her. He disturbed the people as if he owned the Byzantine Empire. Maria's nanny would tell her these dark memories before she went to sleep at night. Maria was a naughty child and would tell the story that Châtillon would come back one night and kidnap the naughty children. But Maria always trusted her father. Although he seemed like an emperor who was afraid of the Turks and had a weak political mind, Maria was smart enough to understand her father's strategic steps. That's why she never feared Châtillon. Her father may have suffered great losses during those times, but later he took his revenge on Châtillon in a satisfactory way.

Baldwin did not attend her and Prince Hugh wedding. He was too tired to go to France. Otherwise, his death would have come sooner, and Saladin's army would have occupied Jerusalem long ago. Therefore, Reynald of Châtillon attended the wedding as regent. Emperor Manuel saw this as an insult, and the ties between him and the Latin kingdom were almost broken. But Baldwin, the Latin king, knew his former father-in-law well. He had observed the emperor very well during his engagement to his daughter, and had skillfully kept the bond between them together.

Despite everything, Châtillon must have been unable to stomach the emperor's revenge, for he was taking a jab at the princess who had joined them at the dinner table. He was talking badly about her father. He was making fun of the Byzantine Emperor, implying that if the emperor did not come under Crusader countries protection, the Muslims would give up Jerusalem and occupy Constantinople, and they would be successful. Therefore, it was very lucky for the princess to marry the son of the King of France. Maria would of course say something in response to these words, but the crown prince of France thought that women were stupid and should not meddle in state affairs. What did women know except intrigue, sex, and having children? Whenever Maria spoke, her husband humiliated her in front of the lords of the other kingdoms. She did not want to experience the same thing again. She felt sad enough when she thought of Baldwin anyway. But both Maria's and the prince's minds were changed by Châtillon's audacity. He had brought up the subject of Baldwin and the princess's broken engagement. Maria felt uneasy. She knew that her husband had always kept his eyes on her, for it was a sensitive subject.

When Châtillon noticed the tension between the two, he explained how strong the bond between her and Baldwin was. He had read Maria’s letters impudently several times before the curse of leprosy had set in. He disclosed some of the love poems in these letters. Of course, he could not remember the exact words, but he sang similar sentences with a mocking grin. Hearing these things made the Prince angry. The gold goblet in his hand almost bent, but he tried not to show it. He looked at his beloved wife with a meaningful smile. Not wanting to appear weak, he intervened. “I thought your engagement was a political agreement, my lady. Would you care to give me more details? I would like to hear it.” He brought the glass to his lips, finished the wine in one gulp, and slammed it down on the table.

However, Maria knew that the prince intended to ask her this question. If she was not satisfied with the answer he would give, his revenge would be severe. Hugh had threatened her with his dynasty. The prince was madly in love with her and knew that his love was unrequited. He was jealous of her in front of everyone and everything.

She was trying not to give away her lie as she pushed the toasted almonds on the Blancmange that had just been served into the rice fish paste mixture with the tip of her fork. "We were both kids at the time. Our alliance against his half-brothers brought us closer. These are childish feelings." These words were lies. Every emotion she experienced was too mature.

Raynald lifted his globe to his mouth and drank the spiced wine, smearing it through his filthy beard before scraping the remains of the wine away with the palm of his hand. "Your mind was capable of writing love poems as a child."

Prince Hugh gritted his teeth. He should have cut off the head of the daring man in front of him with his sword, but he was too arrogant to show his jealousy to anyone. Instead, he chose to show his anger to his wife by stroking Maria's hair harshly. She had to be careful.

She looked bravely at Reynald. Looking into his eyes, she put the Blancmange in her mouth and began to speak, ignoring the rules as she chewed. "I am flattered that you find the love poems written by a little girl mature. Yes, Baldwin and I were mature, and I was smart enough to see that you were a pain in the neck when you were still a mercenary."

Raynald looked to the prince to put the princess in her place, but Hugh agreed with his wife, and for once, though he didn't show it, he was pleased with her headstrong nature.

Then he looked at the princess with greed. "It was obvious that the daughter of the Byzantine emperor would not suit the future king of France."

Maria stood up, her chair leg scraping the floor. "Then you should know to watch your step when talking to me."

Then she turned respectfully, in a way that glorified her husband. "Master of my heart, if you allow me, I would like to go to the chapel and pray."

The prince was unsure of what to say. He did not want to be angry with his wife, for she had put Raynald in his place, who had insidiously planted the sin of jealousy in his heart. He was also flattered by his wife in front of the other lords and barons at the table. He only gave his wife permission to go to the chapel.

She grabbed the hem of her dress so as not to fall. So she left the room and walked quickly down the corridor. Talking about her memories with Baldwin broke her heart. His look, his smile, his conversation, his intelligence... She had never known a man like him in the Empire or the Kingdom of France. Her mind was always on her old love. She had stolen her own life. She spent her youth in the bed of a man she did not love, thinking of Baldwin. Now she was in pain and wanted to be alone, alone with the Virgin Mary.

One of her maids would come to her. She called to her lady, said that her son were crying uncontrollably. Little Philip needed his mother. She ignored the maids calling her as she ran down the hall. But the baby wanted her mother and was crying non-stop. But a child from a man she did not love would not be good for her right now.

She just wanted to go to the chapel and pray before the Virgin Mary. She was on her knees, placed her elbows on the altar. "Hail Mary, Full of Grace, The Lord is with thee. Forgive me, I cannot guard my ideas from sin as I guard my chastity. Holy Mary, Mother of God. I am weak, the love that the devil has cultivated in my heart becomes sweeter to me every day that I do not see him. Please hear me, tear down the walls between us and inspire me to forget him. O Virgin, holy and merciful, obtain for all who offend thee the grace of repentance, and graciously accept this poor act of homage from me thy servant, obtaining likewise for me from thy Divine Son the pardon and remission of all my sins. Amen." She placed her palms crosswise on her chest. She was crying, convulsing with tears.

The prince and princess of France entered the holy lands with four horse guards in front and six behind to protect the gift chests. The royal coat of arms, the 'fleur-de-lys', was carved on wood on the body of the carriage, and the windows were covered with curtains in the color of the coat of arms's base color, the blue, thus completely cutting off communication between the people and the nobles.

But it was impossible not to notice such a long convoy. The children playing followed the horses and did not leave its vicinity, hoping to see who was behind the curtain. But the princess saw them. She had slightly parted the fabric and was enjoying the excited running of the children speaking in a language she did not know. Meanwhile, her husband, who was sitting next to her, distracted her by holding her hand. When the young princess turned her head to the prince, the smile on her face disappeared.

"Don't let children know you're looking at them, my lady. Then they'll have the brass face."

She looked at him smugly. "They are children. At least don't act arrogant towards children!"

Hugh gritted his teeth. He should have put her in her place, but their baby Philip’s nurse intervened to calm the anger between them. She smiled and called out to the princess as she sat across from her, put the baby to sleep in her arms.

"Your Majesty, in a few years your son will be running around the palace corridors just like them."

Maria smiled at the woman. "I hope he becomes a guardian of peace and justice." The word that crossed her mind was 'like Baldwin'. But she could not say it.

The nurse looked at the baby. "There is no doubt about it, my lady."

Prince Hugh was very angry with his wife. He could have given her a severe punishment, but his love was holding him back. Instead, he used his ambition for his son. He smiled arrogantly. "He will be a king in the Latin lands, a nightmare for Muslims! He will send the unbelievers to hell in this world. He will slaughter the unbelievers mercilessly. Otherwise, how can he be the commander of the Crusader armies?"

Maria hated herself for marrying such a cruel man. She could assure herself that the children's voices he heard outside had become screams of pain in his imagination. And look at the nobles who considered Baldwin a barbarian! What a disgrace! The princess was about to continue looking out the window in anger when she turned her head and caught the nurse's eye. The woman gave her no words. Her expression begged his majesty to be silent. For his well-being and peace. Maria smiled with tears in her eyes and did as he said, smiling slightly.

Meanwhile, William, who had received news that the royal carriage was approaching the palace, was giving orders for the final preparations. Sybilla had to make sure that the food and organization were perfect. The servants were arranging the prince and princess's favorite fruits and wines on the table in their rooms, and the gifts to be presented to the royal family were being counted in the great hall.

Baldwin lay on his back in his bed, surrounded by four physicians who were helping their assistants apply ointment to his wounds.

"Ah," sighed the king, "at last, my love. At last, I will be able to witness your beautiful smile again."

"Be a little faster!" But even that was tiring him. He was excited to greet them and wanted to stand up in defiance of God.

The physician warned the king, "Your Majesty, you must lie down for a day and wait for your skin to absorb the medicine. It will be more beneficial."

Baldwin gritted his teeth and spoke threateningly. “Are you disobeying my orders?”

The physicianstammered. He emphasized that he had been misunderstood. He apologized and ordered his assistants to hurry. After applying the herbal mixture to the king's wounds, they wrapped clean, white bandages crosswise, using two layers of cloth so that the skin would not be visible. Cotton fabrics in particular were imported from the Mediterranean. Otherwise, his completely covered skin would not be able to breathe and would become damp, and the amount of salt in his sweat would cause Baldwin to suffer in pain. In fact, the ointment was already hurting him enough.

One of his servants came to him with a silver cup in his hand and supported his back, allowing him to straighten up. Thus, he drank the healing water easily. As he was sliding the last sip from his lips to his mouth, William entered. He too might not have been in favor for king to welcome the royal family, but he knew that his life was short. Seeing the woman he loved should have been more important than the pain he would suffer. Who knows? Perhaps the last time they would meet would be Baldwin's funeral. Maria stood in front of her childhood love's coffin, crying heartily, and they would say goodbye to each other for the last time, and the only memory she had of him would be the metal mask.

"Your Majesty," he said with a wry smile on his face, "I have come to take you. News has come that they have almost arrived. Everything is ready in the outer courtyard. After the welcoming ceremony, you may proceed to the great hall."

Baldwin confirmed William and after the bandaging process was completed, he stood up. My God! For a moment, the King seemed to forget about the curse. He thought they were just like those two beautiful children from ten years ago. Two noble children who will live their love that has not been granted to anyone else. He hadn't even gotten help from anyone when he was sitting up in bed. Love must have been such a miraculous feeling. None of the physicians' ointments could give him the strength to stand up in minutes. The verses from the Bible that were read to cure his illness were of no use. Only his passionate longing for Maria gave him strength. It healed his melted bones and allowed his joints to bend freely. It allowed his joints to bend freely. Perhaps he would soon have the power to expand the borders of the Latin kingdom. But no! The truth had a bad habit of coming out at the wrong time. He was standing from William. He was only five steps away.

"Let's go." King said. At this moment, a servant called out to him, came to him with quick steps and held out the mask in his hand.

"Your majesty, mask!"

There's that Silver mask! The evil Witch who took him away from life. The King looked at the mask's artificial lips, hollow eyes, and metal eyebrows. He was the only person in the room who saw the mask's devilish grin. It was as if the mask was mocking him. He knew how much the woman he loved would pity him when she saw his sick body. And Baldwin's embarrassment must surely be the amusement of the mask. Once again the King was defeated. Although he had the arrogance of a king when he took the mask from the servant's hand, William knew the dramatic mood of the man he had known since childhood. So he supported the king with his words while his face was completely covered with a metal mask. When the servants grabbed his arm and tried to help him walk, he gestured with his hand for them not to come.

"The king looks quite healthy. No need."

William stepped back from the door and cleared the way for the king to exit.He clasped his hands in front of him and waited for Baldwin to come out. However, after their King left the room, William followed him to accompany, followed by the servants. It was noon. Light seeping through the corridor windows illuminated the gray stone walls. The designs and art of Arab architects were on display.

"My legs are shaking William. "This is not because of my illness," he said. He could keep Saladin and his armies away from his lands. He could win the battle. But for love, he was still young.

"I know, your majesty. Although not as excited as you, I'm excited to see the princess too."

Beautiful, attractive, innocent, seductive. Which word was more appropriate to say to the holy beloved? Which one would he choose to describe the relentless love inside him? Or were the other adjectives hidden behind these words what made his fall in love? Was it her stubborn and strong stance that made her seductive, was it her helpfulness and fairness that gave her the name of innocence, was it her white skin and wavy hair that reached down to her waist that made her attractive or was her beauty and grace necessary? There was no definite answer to these questions and even the answers that suddenly came to his mind were not enough to learn the reason for his feelings for her. The way he looked at her or the way she shyly looked away from him, he would now forbid each other. If their eyes met, it would be a sin. Then how would Maria have the courage to go to church again and ask for forgiveness?

All this was going on in the king's mind. When the horse carriage carrying the royal family entered the courtyard. The prince and princess were presented. The King was sitting on his throne waiting for them. But what he was most worried about was how he would react when he saw Maria. And that moment has come. As she descended the wooden steps of the carriage, Baldwin’s eyes went there. The years had made her a mature woman and made her beautiful. The dark brown tone of her hair had lightened, and blondes were mixed in between. Her skin was smooth as in her childhood. The cherry cheeks that adorned her snow-white face had not left her. A storm had formed in his heart, his love had turned into a natural disaster. When she descended the creaking steps and her feet touched the ground, Maria looked up at the king. Her honey-colored eyes sparkled. She had seen the child behind the metal mask in Baldwin’s eyes.

But the maid who got out of the carriage was carrying something in her arms that revealed the sin of their love. One of the heirs to the crown. Prince Philip. Maria's son by Prince Hugh. This child would have been theirs if this disease had not taken him prisoner. William expected the king to make a welcoming speech. But Baldwin seemed rather absent-minded. “Your Majesty,” he warned his king, “you must pull yourself together. The princess is now a married woman with a heir."

William was right. He had to come to his senses quickly and fulfill his duties as a king. The Latin King stood up, holding on to the arms of the prepared throne, and greeted the Prince and the Princess. He said it was a great honor for them to be here. Because he was on very good terms with King Louis VII of France. That's why it was such a pleasure for him to welcome the future heir, the Prince, and his wife, Princess Maria. Of course, when he saw Princess Maria next to the Prince, these words he said were completely fake. Even though he knew that Maria and the king were old childhood friends, the Prince did not allow Maria to speak and spoke to the king himself. Because he knew she still love this king with the ugly rotting skin. The king could not look at Maria. Because if he did, everything would be understood. So he averted his eyes, but Maria looked at her old friend William and smiled. Old memories had gathered in her eyes and came out.

William spoke up. "Your Majesty, if you wish, we can place the gifts of the Kingdom of France in the great hall. This will provide a much more intimate setting for the gifts presented during the banquet."

"Good thinking, William," Baldwin said. "Let's do what's necessary."

After the prince and the king finished speaking, they went inside. The servants showed the nobles to their rooms so they could get ready for the feast while their belongings were being put away.

Baby Philip had a separate room. They went to their rooms with the nurse.

When they came to the room, the bathtub was ready. The bathtub was made of white marble, shaped by marbles extracted from the Anatolian Seljuk lands. It was filled with water containing jasmine essence and leaves. Arab servants surrounded the bathtub, one had a silver tray, a loofah and soap on it. The other had a loincloth in his hand.

Princess Maria knew that Muslims were very clean. This was the most important thing for Islam and they were very contemptuous of people who were not clean.

The servants took off Maria's clothes, covered her private parts with a loincloth, and holding her hand, they sat her in the tub.

A woman took a copper bowl and dipped it into the jasmine water in the bathtub and poured it on the princess's hair. The cold drops of water cooled the roots of her warm hair. The weather was so hot here that the coolness of the water was a relief to her. She leaned her head on the edge of the tub and positioned herself so the other woman could massage her shoulder.

Her muscles, which had been tense due to sadness and her husband's irritable character, began to relax. The woman's delicate fingers were moving around the girl's shoulders and neck. The drops of water that had begun to dry on her skin were keeping it cool in the hot air. She was half asleep, half awake, dreaming but barely aware of what was happening. She didn't even realize when the woman's delicate, thin fingers were replaced by thick, calloused ones. Baldwin was in her dreams. She was sitting in the arbor of the palace in Constantinople, in the gardens with their many varieties of flowers, with Baldwin's head on Maria's lap. His eyes were looking up, into the honey-colored eyes of his beloved wife. The sun was streaming through the wooden planks of the arbor and making the heavens in Baldwin's blue eyes shine. She stroked his light golden brown hair. His skin was soft and shiny, just like when he was a child, and his lips were thin and small.

"My beautiful lover." He said. But voice was not like him. "Are you thinking about me?" The girl's eyebrows furrowed. As if this was a rebellion against passing into the real world. She opened her eyes and sat up. When she looked up, she saw Hugh sitting on the edge of the tub, looking at his wife with longing. But the same was not true for the princess.

She was serious. "What are you doing?"

Hugh replied as she stood up, using the sides of the tub for support. "I thought my wife missed me." He stood up too and caressed her cheek with the back of his hand.

Maria lowered her eyes, raised one hand, and asked the maids to help her get out of the tub. But the prince was on edge against his wife's cold attitude. He watched with anger as he was left alone.

The servants were massaging Maria's body with various oils and combing her hair. Meanwhile, her assistant was choosing a beautiful outfit for the banquet. But Maria was nervous. She and Hugh had not touched each other for a long time. They had never brought each other to the perfect peak of orgasm. That letter from the Latin palace had changed something and the prince was aware of it. She knew that Hugh would use the maids to do this. Even though he knew that adultery was one of the greatest sins, the prince felt entitled to it. Perhaps he wanted to make the woman he loved jealous and take revenge. But he never achieved his goal. Because Maria could never love her husband enough to be protective or jealous of him.

As if it were a ritual, a rite, he would ask for sexual intercourse in the palace of the man she loved. He wanted to trouble her conscience.

While her dress and jewelry were being prepared for the feast, the servants dressed Maria in a white silk nightgown, the sleeves of which were wide and connected to the skirt like bat wings.

When the princess returned to bedroom, she did not see her husband. This was a relief to her.

"Where would you like me to put these clothes, my lady?" Maria was startled by the old woman's question. She answered with a faint smile on her face. "Put them where the emerald green surcoat is."

Then she went to her jewelry. They were in a carved wooden chest on the table. She put her fingers inside and began to rummage through the earrings, necklaces, and rings. The necklace she would wear to the banquet was very special. Among the betrothal gifts that Emperor Manuel had burned or distributed to the poor, the only gift Maria had saved was the beautiful necklace designed by Baldwin. The pearls hanging from the edges of the gold collar surrounding the red beryl, emerald, and alexandrite stones...

She called her maid over and told her that she would be wearing this necklace as an accessory to the dress they had chosen. The woman was fascinated as soon as she saw the necklace. "This is very beautiful, your majesty."

About ten minutes later, the prince called out to his wife, who was giving instructions to her maids to put away the clothes. "You must be happy to see your childhood sweetheart, my love." Maria was startled by her husband's voice as she smoothed down the pearl-embroidered dress in her hand. She ran her fingers over the soft texture of the shiny fabric and handed it to the maid. "The same topic again?" Then she looked at her husband. "That's in the past, you know. Ten years is a long time to forget."

Hugh grabbed his wife's arm tightly and turned her towards him. He clenched his teeth and swallowed. "For the mind, yes, but for your heart? Was ten years enough?"

Maria did not say a word, and that was an answer for Hugh. He squeezed his wife's arm tighter. The young woman groaned, feeling the pain in her arm deeply. She frowned under the pain and tried to pull away. "Leave me alone!"

The maids were disturbed by the tension between husband and wife and did not know what to do.

Hugh brought his face closer to hers. "If that's true, I swear..." he was cut off by a knock on the door.

Maria looked into her husband's eyes without the slightest trace of love.

She ordered. "Come in!"

The young servant girl ran to Princess Maria and bowed before her.

"Your Majesty, forgive me. Your son Philip, I believe, needs your help."

Prince Hugh was also angry. Were all those nannies interested in his heir? Just as he was about to attack the young girl, Maria grabbed his arm. "My prince, please! Have some patience!" She was worried. "Is everything okay? What's wrong?"

The girl was not very good at lying, she stammered. "He wouldn't stop crying. We thought he needed his mother. The mother's scent calms babies."

Hugh glanced at his wife contemptuously. "Your motherhood is as bad as your wifehood!”

Without saying anything, Maria left her husband and ordered the young girl to take her son.

The maid was escorting the princess to the room where Philip was staying. Maria noticed that she was quite excited. She had thought of scenarios such as her son being sick. She started asking the girl questions. Was her son sick? Maybe something bad happened to him and they were afraid of the prince and didn't tell her. The girl's nervous attitude made the princess even more nervous. "Stop, I order you!"

The girl stopped suddenly and looked like a child being scolded by her mother. Maria could see how frightened her face was in the candlelight. "What's the matter? You look very nervous."

The girl stuttered and pointed to the hallway behind Maria. “This way, my lady.” Maria swallowed and looked at the hallway the girl was pointing to. It looked much more ornate than the others. The work on its door was magnificent and decorated with gold leaf.

Maria frowned. "Philip isn't there, is he?"

The girl shook her head. “No, your majesty. Just come in. He’s waiting for you there.”

When the soldiers waiting at the door saw Maria, they immediately moved and opened the door. Maria knew very well who was waiting for her inside. She walked through the door with excited steps and went out to the balcony with the most beautiful view of Jerusalem. The two soldiers standing here welcomed their princess and escorted her to the door leading to their king's chamber.

The soldiers brought the princess to the door and left. Maria took a deep breath, knocked on the door and entered that was nervous. It was the first time she had done something in secret from her husband. She was sure he would punish her if he knew where she was. She could not leave the bedrooms. He would put guards at the bedroom doors.

She looked around. The objects were as if they were showing off in the light of evening with sun. This was not the room he had stayed in as a child. It was his father's room and its size was dazzling. It was a room worthy of a young king of the Holy Land. Maria looked at the bed across from her in admiration. Her childhood love was resting in this bed, leaving his scent on these sheets. She slowly approached the bed and picked up the burgundy-colored pillow. She wrapped her arms around it tightly, as if she were hugging Baldwin. She buried her head in the soft texture of the pillow and breathed in the scent. It smelled just as she remembered. It was so clean, smelled of soap and incense.

The princess remembered the dream she had the night of their engagement. It was a terrifying nightmare, to be exact. She had longed to speak to the bishop of Hagia Sophia. Even though the priest had interpreted her nightmare positively, Maria was always anxious. She was afraid of the end of their epic love. And one day, those things she feared separated them until death. When all these memories came to life before her eyes, a small smile appeared on her face. However, her eyes denied this smile and tears were streaming down her cheeks.

"Is that you William? I've been waiting for you." It was Baldwin's voice, and it came from afar. Maria, with the remorse of her sin, did not want to be caught by Baldwin, and her whole body trembled. When she turned her head to the silk tulle curtain that separated the room, she saw his silhouette and dropped the pillow in her lap to the floor.

Take the pillow or leave the room… While she was trying to choose the right way in this dilemma, Baldwin pulled the veil aside and entered.

“Maria, you…” Baldwin stood there in shock and could not finish his sentence.

There he was, Baldwin. The man whose happiness she had forgotten for years with his longing was standing right in front of her. Baldwin was no different. He felt much stronger now. He never expected to meet those meaningful eyes again. Alone. It was as if their cursed love had flared up again.

Baldwin did not want Maria to get into a difficult situation. As soon as he saw Maria approaching him, he spoke up. "It is not right for you to be here, my lady. Please do not do this to us."

Maria, on the other hand, was determined. She had been imprisoned by a man she did not love for years, and when she could no longer stand this torture, the man who was her ray of hope stood before her.

They were standing face to face when she replied, "I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be."

Her hands were on groin, her nails tearing at the flesh on the sides of her fingers.

Baldwin replied, his voice filled with reproach. "You gave up on me, Maria. I learned of our separation from the letter your father sent to the palace. You didn't care to send a farewell letter."

Maria was crying. She looked into the king's eyes. "This is not true. I swear."

"Tell me what is right," he said. "Of course you couldn't go against your family, I understand that. But what about your love? Your fear got in the way of your love, and I couldn't read your last letter that smelled of roses, is that right?"

"No. You don't know how strict my father is. I wrote you letters many times. I wanted to send them secretly, but my nanny betrayed me. That's why I always got caught. I gave up because a young girl died in pain because of the letters I wrote you. I wasn't afraid of my father, Baldwin. I didn't want innocent people to suffer because of me." The words barely escaped her lips as she sobbed.

The girl took Baldwin's right hand, wrapped in a white bandage, and caressed it. But the effects of leprosy were beginning to set in again, and his arm was numb. What a disappointment it was not to be able to feel the woman he loved while she held his hand! "Oh God, please," he whispered. He did not care how great a sin adultery was. He wanted to feel the touch of the woman he loved. He wanted to experience the sexual urges he felt for the only woman in his life, past and future, who would love him. Not now, his inner voice said. He did not want to die without being drunk with Maria's love.

Baldwin took his right arm and pulled it from Maria's hands. He held out his left hand. "Come on Maria, come with me. We have a lot to talk about," he said. Although the princess realized that Baldwin could not use his right arm, she did not show anything so as not to upset him. So they went behind the silk veil.

The evening view of Jerusalem was almost under their feet. They sat on the couch. Their eyes met suddenly. It was the first time Maria saw her friend, her love, with a mask on his face, and it was painful for her soul.

"God has given you the most beautiful design of all his creations, Maria. You took me back to my childhood."

Maria smiled. "You too, my dear. The innocent, well-intentioned child standing before me has not changed at all."

Baldwin took offense. "You needn't pity me. I have been the god-cursed king for too long."

Maria put her hand on Baldwin's silver mask. Since she couldn't touch his skin, she had to be content with this. "You're still that boy I fell in love with." She caressed the cold, hard, emotionless mask. "The eyes looking with courage and hope. That boy whose character and heart I admired, has now grown up and become the greatest king the Latin Kingdom will ever witness."

There was surprise in Baldwin's voice. "Do you really think so?" He knew what was being said about him outside the borders of the kingdom. Even Saladin did not take him seriously at first. Until he saw that the king was a formidable enemy, he didn't respected him. Still, his illness had become a symbol of bad luck in many kingdoms, especially Byzantium, and had caused political relations to be damaged. If an agreement was made with the Latin kingdom, the curse of God would be poured upon them.

"Even if you gave me all the jewels in the world, it wouldn't satisfy me as much as your love." Her lips trembled, the area around her eyes turned red.

She was trying to control herself not to cry. She brought her face closer to Baldwin and buried her head in his neck, witnessing his scent and warmth. "You are not only the king of the holy land, but also the king of my heart," she said.

Baldwin was ashamed. He had never been so loved and pampered by a woman. He could even see his mother at political meetings. It had been a long time since he felt like a man. He had forgotten that he was a man because in other kingdoms he was nothing. Muslims called him a pig because they did not believe in the same God. Andalusian Arab historians spoke of him as a disgusting creature. According to Christians, he was the child of the devil and God punished him with ugliness and pain as a price for the cruelty and misery he would bring to the world. Jews living in his kingdom cursed their kings because they were not under the rule of a glorious king and prayed for his death. However, even though all that was left of that beautiful child was a piece of rotten flesh, he was reminded that he was human by the woman he loved, without knowing what he had become.

"You are here with me now, Maria. We may never meet again, but it is a great chance that you are here with me now."

Maria tried to smile, but tears were flowing relentlessly down her cheeks and down her chin, dampening Baldwin's white bandage. "I beg you, don't talk like that! Make me forget about reality for one night. Let's be in a fairy tale. Kiss me and let us to live happily ever after."

"I promise, Maria. I'll only make you live your fairy tale tonight."

Maria wrapped her arms around Baldwin's still feeling hand and lifted it into the air. She brought her lips close and kissed it longingly, many times.

Baldwin kept his word and wanted to talk about the good times.

"After reading the letter from the French court, William and I discussed whether she could still use a sword."

Maria wiped her tears and smiled. "I haven't used a sword since I got married. Hugh says it's not for women."

"It is unfair, the land of France has lost its best knight."

Maria shrugged. "If you're not my opponent, I don't care."

Baldwin's voice was full of affection. "We can reminisce whenever you want."

Maria snuggled up to Baldwin. She leaned her head on his chest. "It's okay, I don't want you to get tired."

Baldwin's numb arm was finally beginning to get feel, and he lifted his arm with difficulty and effort, and as he gently stroked Maria's hair, she looked happily at him without lifting her head from his chest.

"Maria, my beautiful queen. While my illness cannot prevent me from fighting the Ayyubids and leading my army, shall I miss the chance to duel with you? I will definitely be ready for it tomorrow."

"I would be honored, my king," said Maria. If she had married Baldwin, she would have been queen, and in their correspondence Baldwin always referred to Maria as "my queen." The fact that he addressed her with the same title, just like in the old days, showed the greatness of the love in his heart.

At the end of this entertaining conversation, Baldwin grew quiet. There was an inexplicable sadness in his voice. "You said your father was strict. You said a girl died because of us, Maria. What have you been through?"

Maria lowered her eyes as she remembered. Her eyes were red and a few tears slid down her cheeks to her chin.

"Several times one of the young maids helped me to smuggle letters into my room. The niche in the wall where i had once kept my doll was filled with letters from you. But the day the nanny discovered our secret, father showed no mercy. "she sobbed . "The young girl was punished by the priest reading verses from the Bible, supposedly purifying herself from her sins. Hot irons, daggers and hot oil. The girl fainted many times due to this unbearable pain and her weak body could not stand it anymore. The girl died."

"I never thought the emperor would be so afraid of our love that he would slander God. No God would allow such a punishment to be given to a virgin girl."

"I couldn't write you back. Because I never got to your last letter. The last time I saw it was among the gifts from you were being burned, in the middle of courtyard." She was sobbing and repeated over and over, "Forgive me, forgive me, my love."

Baldwin's heart ached as if it had been thrown into fire, and it was because of sadness and despair that Maria has.

"If I had a chance, if this curse would leave me alone, I would make you the happiest woman in the world," he said, stroking her hair.

But Maria, angered by this statement, rose harshly from her king's lap, her hands resting on Baldwin's groin, gripping the fabric of his robe tightly. "Please stop cursing your illness! You shouldn't care what people think. And I don't believe the thing what they think God says in bible. God holds you up as an instance to all; the kingdom of heaven is strengthened in your hands."

Baldwin put his bandaged hand around the girl's neck and pulled back the hair that covered her beautiful neck. "How can you be so sure about God, Maria? Are the priests wrong?"

"Did you not show your power, despite the limitations of your illness, and become a king loved by your people and respected by your enemies? You keep a part of God within you. You are not that man hated by God, Baldwin. If you were, I cannot imagine the illness that Hugh would have suffered," she said, laughing wryly at the last sentence.

When Baldwin returned her smile, Maria could tell by the sound he made as he laughed. and Maria thought.

"I would like to see your smile, enslaved by the mask, one last time, my dear," she said. There was sadness on her face.

Baldwin was embarrassed. "You know it's impossible, Maria."

Maria frowned. There was a half-mocking look on her face. "Why is that impossible? Has the evil witch completely transformed your face into a silver mask?"

"No, of course not. But the man under the mask has already killed the beautiful boy you remember."

"Then how come I'm looking into that boy's eyes?"

Maria slid off the couch and sat on her knees on the floor, looking pleadingly at the man she loved. For Baldwin, this was the moment he had feared.

"I beg you, let me touch your skin one last time, my dear."

The healers did not yet know about leprosy. There was only suspicion in their conversations. Despite this, they made definite statements and the worst thing was that it was contagious. Moreover, the woman he loved wanted to touch him. If anything happened to her, she would never forgive herself. Even this idea was enough to terrify him and he quickly stood up. He was going towards the window to get away from her.

"No, Maria. Don't ask me to do this!" But his muscles had become one with his illness and betrayed him once again. Baldwin lost control of his body for a moment and stumbled. Maria cried out as he lost his balance. "My love!"

Baldwin was down on one knee, his left hand on the ground, supporting his arm.

He felt that the woman he loved had hold his arm to save her king. When he looked up, Maria looked at him with a feeling that was companions of love and fear.

"Oh Maria." He didn't want her to see him like this, but fate betrayed him once again.

Baldwin got up with Maria's help. There was almost no distance between them. They were looking into each other's eyes with love. Despite the illness, the fake marriage, the years that passed, their love had not diminished even for a day. They could see the storms in the sea of love in their eyes.

"Come on, let me touch you one last time, Baldwin."

"If it infected to you, then I'll die."

"Nothing will happen, I promise."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I have what those incompetent healers lack."

"What was that?"

"Wouldn't some stupid servant have been infected by now?" Maria put her hand on the mask. "If they understood enough about the disease to be sure it was contagious, why couldn't they find a cure?"

Baldwin took Maria's hand and caressed it. "Okay then, I'll take off my mask. But if you care about me at all, don't ask to see my face."

Maria objected. “But…” But Baldwin was determined.

"I want you to always remember me as beautiful, Maria. Like that child whose beauty you admired and confessed to. Otherwise, I will spend the rest of my short life as an unhappy man."

Although Maria wanted to prove that she would love him in any way possible, Baldwin's request prevented her. Maybe not with words, but nodded, avoiding her eyes.

She closed her eyes and waited. But the king had another plan. When he left the dream queen and did not return for a while, Maria opened her eyes. Baldwin approached her with a piece of black cloth in his hand. He knew that Maria was a stubborn girl, so he had to make sure her eyes were closed. His hair, made of golden threads, had fallen out, leaving a purulent, bloody scalp in its place. His facial anatomy, which resembled a Greek statue, was now in a state of great destruction. His lips were falling apart, the bones in his nose were melting. He was not ready for Maria to see him like this, and he would never be ready. His concreteness should live as a memory, in Maria's dreams.

He lifted the cloth up and folded it into a strip to fit his eyes. It was much better this way. He could now let her touch him freely. He placed the piece of cloth over Maria's eyes, wrapped it around her head, and tied it at the back as ribbon. When her eyes closed, the pinkness of her sweet lips could be seen in all its glory. What wouldn't he give to kiss those lips? Her kiss reminded him of God's forgiving side. But all he had to do was get rid of the mask. He took it off, praying that everything would go well.

While Maria was waiting for Baldwin, the world was pitch black for her. It was like a blind man trying to witness life. Her ears were much more sensitive now. She could hear the friction of the silver mask sliding across his skin. She waited. She waited for the best moment for Baldwin.

"Are you ready?" he asked. Maria had been ready for him years ago.

Baldwin gently held the girl's wrists, as cautiously as if he were holding a glass rose branch. He could not control his breathing rhythm in excitement as he brought her delicate fingers close to his deformed face. And when her fingertips finally touched his rough skin, Maria sighed with joy. He needed to feel this warmth so much that he had finally managed to overcome the despair that had been following him for years.

“Baldwin,” she said, her voice catching in her breath. The happy expression on her face gave way to a sad plea. She took his face between her hands and caressed his cheeks with the thumbs. "I missed you so much. I had a hard time not rebelling against the fate that separated us. But God rewarded me with you for my wait."

"You are the only sin I do not regret, the only sin I will not beg God to forgive me, Maria," Baldwin said. Nontheless Maria's fingers seemed to be trying to explore the face of the man she loved. She saw nothing. If someone else had been standing in front of her instead of Baldwin, it would not have mattered. Still, she saw the anatomy of his face not with her eyes but with her touch. Baldwin's words fueled the impossible love she felt for him.

"You too, my love," she said, rising on her toes and pressing her lips against the calloused, chapped lips of the man she loved. A passionate act that proves that she doesn't care about his illness. Maria's lips were the heaven Baldwin had not experienced in this life. Baldwin's lips must have been dark sin for a married woman. But this sin was only the price of their desperate separation.

They said goodbye to each other for the last time, feeling their skin, before their love was lost in the sands of Jerusalem. Baldwin's virgin lips were alive with a woman's lust, and he didn't want this moment to end. God, I wish time would stop right now. If only the fairy tale these two poor lovers were living would never end.

Maria put one arm around the king's neck. With her other hand she felt around his body and found his hand and held it. She put his hand on her breasts. She squeezed his hand together to show him that she wanted him to caress it. Baldwin's hand was on the princess's breast while her hand was on his hand. Their kisses were much more passionate now. Their tongues were dancing on the wet skin. Their lips were in awe, as if they were reading a verse from the Bible. Baldwin slid his hand from his princess's breast and down to the curve of her waist. Her body shape had such an aesthetic. Her rounded lines were satisfactory. He almost lost himself in the complicated paths of love. But he suddenly remembered that he had to protect the honor and dignity of the woman he loved. He didn't want her to see her as an unchaste woman who was cheating on husband with another man. Baldwin turned away from her. “We must stop now, my lady,” he said. “This is not right for you.” He took his mask from the table where it had been placed and began to place it on his face.

"But we both want this. Or have you given up on loving me?"

He was so close to her as he untied her blindfold, he could feel her body heat. "Maybe my body will not live thirty years, but my soul will be exalted with love for you, my queen." He said. When she removed the tape completely, Maria was once again face to face with the mask that had ruined the life of the man she loved. But despite everything, she was grateful that she could look into his eyes. "Forever," he said and she looked into his beautiful eyes as he finished the sentence.

Maria's eyes got wet again. "My love is yours forever, my king," she replied.

Unfortunately, the end of this miraculous moment came early. William called out before entering. She was startled.

"Your Majesty, I have to take the princess away now."

Baldwin caressed the girl's cheek one last time. "My moon-skinned love, with eyes brighter than the sun. You gave me the most beautiful gift in the world. Thank you, I am grateful to you."

He had so much more to say, but whatever he didn't talk about turned into tears in his eyes after she left. He had to calm down before going to the banquet and pretend that this moment had never happened.

[gojos-thot-patrol]

Suguru Geto, Pining, “It’s true romance is dead. I shot it in the chest and in the head.” 🌶

Hey, so remember when I said I was going to make these short little fic lits? yea? This is a whole ass one shot, I got so lost in the sauce, I started this at like, 4 pm, its 6:30 am, I need to lie down...

Now Presenting...

Starring: A truly love sick Suguru Geto making some of the worst mistakes he can make in this situation.

Suguru missed you constantly, but he especially missed you late at night. He really had no one to blame but himself. He had never been much of a romantic, always believing it to be pretty useless in the grand scheme of things. Romance was like driving around in a classic car; yes it was fun and flashy at first and everyone is jealous of you. But it's a lot of upkeep, it's not very fuel efficient, and when you inevitably drive headfirst into traffic because of some issue you didn't even know about, you get sent home in a body bag, and the car gets passed on to your next of kin.

You challenged that long held belief though. You were funny, and kind, not to mention drop dead gorgeous. Suguru remembered meeting you at that concert as a before and after event. Who he was before you, and after you. The two of you had spent the summer listening to any new record you could get your hands on, going to dingy basement parties for the free booze, and in the backseat of his car. On highways going 100 miles per hour and parked on backroads counting the stars in the sky. You were his first love.

So of course he had to ruin it. He may have loved you, but that didn't mean he knew how to love, or that it came easy. You got frustrated with his refusal to label your relationship, the way he treated you as if you were his dirty little secret, and how most nights he only called when he was already high. Your final fight, if you could call it that, was barely an argument. It was quiet, filled with the things he wanted to say as you told him that it had been fun. But the summer was over, and you were done being used. The romance was dead before it even started.

Even now, as he laid in his bed texting some woman he met at a different party, all he could think of was you. He tried to imagine he was talking to you, but frankly, her texting tone was all wrong, and she sent pictures of her tits way too fast to ever be you. He was used to having to work for it, but it seemed like this girl was looking for exactly what he was looking for: something to fill the void. 

"I showed you mine, you show me yours 😘🍆💦"

Gross. Suguru cringed at the explicit use of emojis. But, he reached into his pants anyway. It's true, romance was dead. He had personally shot it in the chest and in the head. He was still trying to get the angle right to make it look bigger than it really was (not that he needed to) when his phone rang in his hand. "Oh God, please don't ask me to talk to you" he thought to himself. He didn't have it in him. He wanted meaningless, impersonal sexting right now. If she wanted an emotional connection, she was fucked. That was reserved for you.

He actually looked at the name lighting up his screen before sending it to voicemail, and for the first time in three months he felt his heart race. "Shit!" He muttered under his breath, rushing to answer his phone and put his dick up at the same time. 

"Hey Y/n. Wasn't expecting to hear from you tonight." He answered, trying to sound like he was just woken up instead of trying (and failing) to take a cock pic. 

"Hey, I need your help." You sounded so unbelievably defeated. Suguru didn't know if the tightness in his chest was from the inherent anguish of hearing you sound so broken, or from the rush of euphoria of you needing him. All he ever wanted was for you to need him. 

“What’s going on beautiful?” He asked, trying to maintain the sleepy voice while rushing to his mirror to make sure he looked at least presentable. He didn’t, he looked like a mess that had spent the last three months alternating betweening lying awake at night, getting high with his best friends, and well, crying. But, that was fine. Hell, maybe it would even help his cause. He had that sad boy needs fixed vibe about him.

“Don’t call me-” you cut yourself off with an exasperated sigh, “Look, my car finally gave up the ghost, I’m stranded off of I-45 going into 6th street. Can you come get me?” Oh shit. Yea, that made sense, it was only a matter of time before that amalgamation of rusted steel and duct tape you called a car gave out on you. He still couldn’t believe you called him though.

“Of course I can pick you up baby girl, I’m on my way.” He said, pulling his arm through a jacket and grabbing his keys.

“Look, Suguru, I wouldn’t have called if I had another choice. Satoru has a flat, Kento is asleep and Ryomen is drunk. This doesn’t mean anything.” The icicle that pierced his heart and melted into his blood forced him to pause. You called fucking Sukuna before you called him? Hell, you called everyone before you called him. You were all his mind, body, and soul could think about; And he was your last resort. Typical. 

“I’m just happy you called me,” He muttered, “It's too cold to walk tonight.”

“I know, it’s why I called…I know it’s harsh, I just don’t want to give you any false hope.” you explained. Too late for that.

“Yea, thanks for that. I’m on my way.” he huffed, hanging up before he had a chance to say something he’d regret.

🚗🚗🚗

It probably wasn’t his best idea to blast the playlist that you had made him on this drive, but he had dug his grave and now he planned to lie in it. It wasn’t hard for him to find your car, at this time of night you were the only other person near the road. He parked behind the clunker, and went to text you about it, but you came to check out the headlights on your own. And fuck, this was a mistake, he should have woken up Nanami.

“Hey, thanks for grabbing me.” you shivered as you got into his heated car, immediately putting your hands to the warm vents, “It’s freezing out there.”

“Mmhmm,” He hummed an auto response. He was too lost in memory to focus on your words. The moment his eyes landed on you the emotions and memories came flooding back. He could feel your fingers tangling in his hair, and taste you on his lips. He wondered if you still remembered his taste, because he knew he was cursed with yours forever. 

“Soo…ready to go?” You asked, snapping him out of his daydream. He shook his head, trying to banish the thoughts of your soft skin against his from his mind. 

“Yea, no, sorry. I’m just…tired.” He said, pulling back onto the road. “So, any idea what you’re going to do about that?” He questioned, jerking his head back to your car. You groaned as you got comfortable in your seat.

“Fuck no. I can’t really afford a tow truck right now, and I’m like 68% sure the engine is blown.” you sighed, placing a hand to your temple to try and prevent the headache that was threatening to come back.

“I mean, I can help you if you want.” He offered, “I just got that job, so I’m actually doing kinda okay right now-”

“Wait, Sugubear, you got the job?!” You asked, all smiles and giggles all of the sudden. He even cracked the biggest smile he had in a long time at it. Sugubear. It was a pet name he hated during your relationship, but he couldn’t imagine why he ever did now. Now it made him feel like he was on cloud 19.

“Yea, I did!” He bragged, “I started like, 3 weeks ago.”

“That’s great Suguru! I’m proud of you!” You laughed. 

“Why thank you,” He nodded, “I’m pretty proud of me too.” He went to go and place his hand on your thigh, a reflex from when the two of you were still hot and heavy. He fully expected you to stop him. Maybe it was because of the relaxed atmosphere that was starting to settle, or maybe it was because you missed his touch as much as he missed yours; you let him make contact. He really hoped it was because of the latter. 

🚗🚗🚗

“Well, this is my stop,” You said, patting him on the shoulder as he pulled into the parking lot of your apartment, “Thanks again for the ride-”

“Wait!” Suguru said without really thinking about what he wanted you to wait for. He just didn’t want this to end. He’d been without you for so long, he wasn’t ready to go back to how things were just an hour ago. “Can I come up?”

“What, why?” You scoffed, shaking your head. “I only needed a ride.” Why?! What did you mean, why?! Because he craved being home? Because he missed the space the two of you had occupied for so long, the place you carved out for him in your environment and in your heart. Because he needed to be surrounded by everything that's you again, because every night when he slept he dreamed of the smell. 

“Because I need the like, four hoodies I left at your house that you still haven't given back.” He thanked God for three things in that moment; 1. That it was always ice cold in your house, making him always feel like he needed a hoodie, 2. That he left them there when you left him, and 3. That you had never given them back. You sighed, knowing you couldn’t really keep them from him. That would be theft. 

“Ok, fine. Just be fast, ok? I’m tired.” And you didn’t just mean physically tired. 

“Of course.” He said, fully planning to drag this out as long as possible. As the two of you went up the stairs, Geto found his hand landing on the curve of your waist. Anything to replicate the intimacy the two of you once had. And he noticed you didn’t remove his hand either. As he walked into your small studio apartment, he took off his jacket as well as yours. He could feel himself truly relax for the first time in months. Humans like to think that they get to consciously decide where home is, and they’re wrong. Home is the place where you feel truly safe, and calm. The place where you can truly let your guard down and let go of your worries and your sorrows. It was the place where you felt loved and secure, and you don’t get to decide where that was. Your heart did. The saying “Home is where the heart is” was true for multiple reasons. 

His first order of business was to lay down in the bed he helped you move up the stairs at the start of your relationship. The one he helped you break in. He collapsed face down into the pillows, melting into the cheap memory foam. He was pleased to find it still kinda remembered the shape of his body.

“Hey, what are you doing?” you asked, turning around to see him making himself comfortable. You turned your back for five seconds-

“Getting cozy, what’s it look like?” he asked, turning to his back. You had to laugh at the audacity of the act, really.

“And who said you could do that?” You quizzed him, walking over to pull him out of the bed. As you reached your hand out, he grabbed it, pulling you into the bed and into his chest. 

“I did.” He answered with a smile.

“Suguru, please, don’t do this. You have to go.” You tried to sound stern, you really did. But in the end, you couldn’t hold back your giggles. He was so warm.

“No I don’t,” He shrugged, “I don’t have to do anything, not really. I could stay here.”

“Sug-” You were cut off with a kiss. Suddenly, any protest you had in you melted into the honeyed warmth of his kiss against yours. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t crave Sugurus' presence as much as he missed yours. The safety and contentment you felt when you were wrapped in his arms was unparalleled by anyone else you had ever been with. It was what made him so.

His hand slipped to the back of your head, pressing you closer to him while his free hand played with the hem of your shirt. You moaned softly into his lips, your fingers going to tangle in his long dark hair. You noticed it was fully down. He must have been such a mess. He pulled away from the kiss, albeit reluctantly, to press his forehead to yours.

“I miss you so much, I can’t breathe without you.” He confessed softly. 

“I miss you too.” You finally admitted. He pulled your hips closer to his by your belt loops as you said that, showing you just how much he missed you. 

“I need you Y/n.” He whispered to you.

“I want you too.” You sighed. That was all the permission he needed. He was on you in a flash, sucking deep dark bruises into your neck as his hands moved to unbutton your jeans. You had never known him to be this eager, and in his he had never known himself to be like this either. Suguru wasn’t the type of guy to pine for anything. If someone didn’t want him, that was just fine, because there were a thousand and one people who did want him, and everyone was replaceable. Everyone but you. He had tried, so so hard to move on, but every new body he found himself in was just a pale imitation of yours. None of them could hope to be even half as warm and receptive as you were.

“Sug..” You moaned softly as his fingers traced the growing wet spot in your underwear. 

“Look at you Sweetest,” He teased, “Already so wet and ready for me. Did you miss me Darling?” You nodded and whined in response, rocking your hips to try and create more friction than he was willing to give. He couldn’t hold back the grin that tugged at his lips, seeing you so needy for him again. “How much did you miss me Darling?” He asked. 

“So much..” You whined out, “I thought about you every night when I…” You trailed off, not wanting to finish the thought.

“When you what?’ He wasn’t going to let you get away with that. Embarrassment burned at your chest and behind your eyes.

“When I touched myself,” You admitted. Your words went straight to his already impossibly hard cock. His own jeans were starting to get really uncomfortable. 

“Oh yea?” He asked, trying to contain himself. To try and distract himself from how tight his pants were getting, he slipped your underwear out out of his way, giving him direct access to your weeping pussy, and more importantly your swollen clit, He rubbed expert circles in them with two fingers, causing your back to tense with pleasure as a moan escaped your throat.

“I thought about that!” You announced, “I thought about how good you felt, and how much you filled me up,” A heat was already starting to pool in your stomach for him. You smirked at the next memory that entered your head, “I thought about facetiming you while I played with my pussy, and how you’d have reacted.”

“Fuck, you should have.” He groaned, imagining how that scene would have played out, “I would have come over sooner.” He removed his hands from your slit, much to your very vocal dismay, and pulled you out of your jeans and your panties. Before you knew it, you were on your back and he was in between your legs, holding your hips firmly in his large hands. He dipped his head in between your thighs, running his tongue from your cunt to your clit, collecting all the sweet slick pooling there. The familiar taste lit a familiar fire inside of him, and all he wanted was to see your face when you came on his.

His lips wrapped around your clit, writing his name with his tongue over and over again to lay claim to what was his. G. E. T. O. G. E. T. O. You let out a truly embarrassing whine as he did. Your hands found his raven hair, tangling into the messy locks and giving a good pull. All of this only aided to egg him on, and he slipped two fingers into your dripping cunt, curling up.

You saw stars explode in front of your eyes. Three months was a long time to be alone with just your cheap toys, and you found yourself more sensitive to him than you had been before. Sharp jolts of pleasure flowed through you in waves, building up a tension in your stomach. You tried to rock your hips up into him, but he held you still, leaving you to moan out his name in a truly pathetic manner.

“Say it again,” Suguru said, pulling away from you just long enough to communicate, “It sounds so pretty when you do.”

“Suguru!” You whimpered out, relief washing over you as he returned to the job at hand. He curled his fingers perfectly into your g-spot, leaving your body tense and waiting. “Suguru!” You called out again, earning you another direct hit and ohh boy you we’re not going to last much longer. “Suguru, please I’m so so close,” You moaned, throwing your head back as it became too heavy to hold up. Suguru didn’t let up on his ministrations, deciding that getting you over the edge was more important.

You didn’t just fall over the edge, you flew. You felt like a firework, with lighting bolts of pleasure shooting up through your center and exploding in your chest, washing you in embers of euphoria. Your thighs encased Sugurus head, and he decided he had no other choice than to eat you through your orgasm. A sacrifice he was oh, so willing to make. He didn’t let up on you until your trembling legs fell away from his head, leaving you a jittery mess under him. He couldn’t help but smile at his handy work.

“Have I ever told you how breathtaking you look when you cum Dearest?” He asked, lovingly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You gave a breathless laugh.

“Once or twice I think.” You muttered, slowly reregulating yourself. “It’s been months since anyone touched me like that..” You confessed softly.

“It’s been months since I touched anyone like that.” He responded. It wasn’t technically a lie. He didn’t care enough about anyone he’d been with since the two of you broke up to treat them with even an ounce of the care he gave to you. You pulled him down by his hair and into a kiss, tasting yourself mixed with him on his lips. He bit your lip to deepen the kiss, needing every ounce of you you were willing to give. 

Fuck, this was starting to actually hurt. His hand moved down to try and relieve some of the pressure building there. Everywhere you touched left a trail of electricity on his skin, and he couldn’t think of anything beyond making as much skin to skin contact as possible with you in that moment. And honestly, it was the only thing you wanted too. 

You pulled back long enough to pull off your shirt, cluing in Suguru to follow suit. You took the opportunity of distance to try unbuttoning his jeans. His hand met your wrist though.

“Y/n, You don't have to-”

“I want to.” You asserted, “You think you’re the only one that wants your cock inside of me? Please, I’ve been fantasizing about this way too long to settle for some, admittedly really good, head.” You were both lucky he didn’t lose it in his pants right then and there at your words. Instead, he pulled you into one very rough kiss, all tongues and teeth. He unclipped your bra as you unbuttoned his levis. You palmed him through his boxers, but not for very long before he pushed you away and finally freed his straining cock.

He stroked himself a few times, taking in the sight of you on your back and desperate for his cock. He wanted to remember you like this, just as desperate and needy for him as he felt for you. The sight of it alone sent electricity up and down his spine.

And suddenly, his lips were on your again, kissing them breathless and swollen as he pushed inside of you. You whined into the kiss, digging your fingernails into his shoulder blades as you tried to accommodate for his stretch. Suguru was thick, and it always felt like no matter how ready you were for him, you were never actually ready. You felt his shoulders tremble at the feeling of being encased in you again.

“God, you feel so fucking good Y/n,” He breathed out as he bottomed out. He gave an experimental thrust sending static coursing through every inch of your body and his. “Christ, it’s like you’re made for me.” He praised as he did it again, starting to set a rhythm that was going to send you into outer space. “So fucking good and just for me.”

He was saying a lot of yours and your mind was processing none of them. Every push and pull of his hips graced your overly sensitive g-spot perfectly, filling your body with ecstasy and your head with oxytocin and dopamine. Why did you break up with him again? It didn’t matter, not really. He was back and he felt so unbelievably good.

“So good Sug,” You slurred out, “So good, so big..” Oh, now that was an ego boost that went straight to his head- both of them in fact.

“Is my sweet girl cock drunk already? Fucked dumb on the man she thought she didn’t want anymore?” He cooed, his contempt with you for leaving him slipping into his words. Not that you registered anyway. You nodded stupidly, your second orgasm building up fast inside of you. It’s okay though, he wasn’t going to last long either. With every buck of his hips your walls hugged him tighter, sucked him in deeper, kept him there longer. It was a feeling he hadn’t been able to replicate once; be it with his own hand or whatever whore looked vaguely like you at the party that week. He was already starting to come undone, but was determined to get you there first.

“Sugubear..” You whimpered out softly, reaching a hand up and into his hair, making doe eyed contact with his quickly softening black eyes. Your hand fell from the back of his head to his cheek, cupping it gently. Instinctively he leaned into it, ignoring the panic in his chest as he realized that this was probably the most intimate thing he had ever done with another person. 

“Y/n, I-” His eyes widened as he realized what he was going to say. OH FUCK can’t say that! He may have been in love, but there was no way he could say it out loud. Not right now. “I can’t believe how good you fucking feel.” He groaned, moving one of his hands to massage quick circles into your puffy clit.

That was all the extra push that you needed. Your eyes screwed shut and your body tensed as it braced for impact. Fireworks erupted from behind your eyes and your body was overtaken with seismic waves of white hot electricity, pleasure coursing through your every being in sharp spikes. You felt like you had driven a ferrari at 169 miles an hour right off of a cliff and into a soft grave of euphoria and cotton. 

And Suguru was right behind you. The tremors of your pussy pulling him deeper and deeper, pulling him over his own edge. He held your waist with a grip tight enough to bruise as he came, the warm feeling filling and spreading throughout you from deep inside. He figured the consequences of this action were a future Suguru problem. He barely managed to collapse next to you instead of one you, pulling you impossibly close to him. It was as if he was scared that if he loosened his grip, the dream would end and you’d be gone again. 

You let him, enjoying the warmth for a long while. You pulled away with a kiss, and even then he seemed reluctant to let go.

“So, uh..wanna spend the night?” You asked sheepishly. He laughed softly. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” He said, kissing the top of your head. “Do you need anything? Anything at all?”

“Um, a warm rag would be great actually… ya know, for clean up.” You giggled. He nodded, instantly ready to grab you anything you needed. 

“Yea, of course! I’ll be right back.” He said, standing and heading to your bathroom. He wasn’t gone for very long before his phone pinged.

“Oh, hey you got a notification!” You called to him from the bed.

“You know my password, what’s it say?” He called back, assuming it was probably Satoru. Gojo’s sleep schedule was a nightmare and he had a tendency to make that everyone else's problem. Especially if he found another internet conspiracy rabbit hole to fall down. Suguru still remembered when he learned about the dead internet theory, he didn’t stop talking about that one for mon- wait, why hadn’t you responded yet?

“Well, what’s it say?” He called again, coming back with the warm rag. The look on your face instantly soured his stomach.

“Who's Naiomi?” You asked, tears swelling in your eyes against your will. Naiomi? He didn’t know, who the fuck was Naiomi? “And why is she sending you pictures of her breasts?” You asked. He didn’t fucking kno-

Oh.

Oh.

Naomi. 

Party girl.

“Hey, you should give me back my phone,” He panicked, joining you on the bed and trying to grab the device. You were quicker though, moving away on unsteady legs to read messages you Really Should Not be reading. 

“I’m so fucking hard for you right now Pretty Girl, I can’t wait to see you again and-” You muttered outloud to yourself before the realization hit you, “Wait, Suguru, did you meet up with this girl?! You said you hadn’t been with anyone!” You snapped.

“It was only one time-” He instantly regretted saying that, wondering why he couldn’t just put the goddamn shovel down. 

“No it wasn’t!” You yelled, “It very clearly wasn’t, why do you keep lying to me?!” You begged, fat tears of frustration starting to roll down your cheeks and absolutely devastating your former bedmate. He went over to you, and reached out to wipe the tears away, only for you to smack his hand away instead. “Don’t fucking touch me!” You demanded.

“Y/n, please, I’m so sorry, it was a mistake, she doesn’t mean anything to me-”

“If she doesn't mean anything, why are you lying about her!?” you scoffed, wiping away your own tears. “How many other people are there Suguru, and dont you fucking dare lie to me again, your phone is in my hand.”

Oh fuck. “Only a few.”

“Only a few?! How many is a few?” The awkward silence that followed was thick, as he desperately tried to remember the number. 

“Okay, so maybe a lot.” You thought you were going to be sick, just for him to continue. “I was chasing after you!” he tried to explain, “I missed you, I missed our intimacy, I tried to find it in hollow sex with strangers-”

“They’re not strangers if you kept going back!” You snarled. 

“I know! I know But they’re all just off brand you! They mean less than nothing to me, especially compared to you!”

“That’s not helping!”

“Oh, come on Y/n! We were broken up, I’m willing to bet you met up with someone-!”

“I absolutely did not, you fucking pervert!” you seethed, throwing your own phone at him for him to catch, “Look! And it’s not like I didn’t have the opportunity either! Gojo tried to hit me up less than a week after we called it off.” You sneered, just to rub salt into his wound. It worked too, especially when he went to your messages to confirm it. That two faced fucking bastard was trying to talk you up while Geto was actively crying on his shoulder. He threw your phone onto the bed.

“Look, I don’t understand why you’re acting like a crazy bitch about this! It’s not like I cheated on you, I couldn’t have! We were never actually dating!” He snapped, cyanide dripping from his words and hitting you directly in your soft heart. Geto was having an out of body experience, watching the whole thing as if it was a gruesome horror movie. He wanted to shake himself and yell DO YOU EVEN HEAR WHAT YOU'RE SAYING?! OUT YOUR EGO ASIDE FOR FIVE FUCKING SECONDS AND COMFROT HER GODDAMN IT. 

The silence that followed was thick with regret and shame. He felt it weighing down on his shoulders like a soaking wet weighted blanket, in the color mental illness gray. “Y/n, I-”

“I think you should leave Geto.” You were so calm. Calmer than the say you broke up with him the first time. It petrified him, turning every muscle fiber he had into cold stone. 

“Please, Y/n, I’m sorry, I-”

“I think I made a mistake calling you tonight.” You said, starting to get dressed, no longer comfortable with him having any claim to your body. You felt like you needed a boiling hot shower. Luckily, he took a hint from you and started getting dressed himself. “I’ll send you gas money-”

“You don’t have to do that Darling.” He cut you off. You let out a humorless laugh.

“I’m going to. I don’t want you to feel like I owe you anything. And after that, please don’t contact me again, Suguru. I-I really can’t be around you.” The thought of that happening gutted him to his very core. Even after the two of you had broken up, You’d see each other at frat parties and basement shows. You’d talk, even if it was only small talk, just to be polite. It was those small interactions that got him through those six months. He had no idea how he was going to manage a life completely devoid of you.

“No, Baby girl, please, we can work through this-”

“Please stop calling me pet names.”

“Y/n, I’m begging you don’t do this. We can work this out, I love you.” He didn’t even know what he was saying anymore, anything to not lose you. But, he fucked up because the tears were back again. Instinctively he went to hold you, only for you to step way back. 

“How dare you lie about that too.” You whispered, barely holding back sobs.

“I’m not lying Y/n, I lo-”

“Do not say it again” You snapped, “Get the fuck out of my house.” Suguru wanted to stay, he wanted to fight for your relationship, and for the opportunity to try again. But, you were very clear. And at this point, he had to realize he was just doing more harm than good. He took a shaky breath as he threw on his jacket.

“Fine. I’ll leave.” He muttered. The moment he was on the other side of the door, he heard your sobbing. He at least managed to make it to the wheel of his car before he had his own breakdown.

Yep, It’s true, romance really was dead. Suguru Geto had shot it in the chest and in the head.

[stormblessed-s]

Finished episode 14 today, the one where they meet a boy whose mother was killed just like Mary. Good episode, but what really touched me was the ending.

Since the beginning the show makes it pretty clear that Sam and John have their issues. Sam wants to have a normal life, whilst John just wants to avenge his wife and protect his boys. Both are stubborn and determined to follow the path they chose. That's why they fight and Sam leaves.

Great! Now, see, the main problem with them (with all Winchester men, really) is that they don't talk to each other. Shit happens to them and they just go with it, never really talking things through so they can solve whatever is bothering them. They solve they "material problems", but never the inner ones. (And this so freaking frustrating, because they could prevent A LOT of heartbreak and useless sufferings if they just sat down and talked, but whatever, bear with me).

So, they carry on their lives. Dean and Sam hunting monsters and demons, John in his crusade to find Mary's killer. At this point in the show, Sam already (kinda) came to terms with the fact that they have to trust John in this. Also, that whatever is happening, Dean is basically all he's got and that they should stick together. He still has his issues with John, wants to find his dad and all that, but he's willing to be patient and wait until John wants to be found.

And then their paths lead them to the Millers case and they find out that their mother's death is not as unique as they thought at first. They meet Max and learn about how his mom died just like Mary. Max is also manifesting psychic powers just like Sam and of couse they make the connection about the whole thing.

But here's the thing, what got to me was how Sam was seeing himself in Max through out the whole episode. He kept seeing the similarities between the two of them and this is why he tried so hard to save Max; he thought them the same. But in the end he realised that they weren't.

As flawed as John was, he put his boys first. He was grieving his wife, but still did his best to take care of Sam and Dean. Of course, he started hunting because he wanted to get his revenge, but he also wanted to make sure his boys were safe; because if something that bad had killed his wife, the same thing could happen to his boys and he was not gonna let that happen. And once he knew he wouldn't be around forever, he made sure the boys could protect themselves.

And Sam understood that in this episode. When he saw, in Max, what could have happened to them if John had reacted differently to Mary's death, I think he finally understood his father a little bit better. John was not perfect, they had a very unusual chidhood, but it could have been so much worse.

This left me a little emotional, because it felt a lot real. Parenting is hard as hell, we don't have all the answers and we do our best, hoping that we're doing the right thing. Sometimes we are, sometimes we aren't; we're human, so of course we're gonna make mistakes. But whatever happens, we're always putting our children first. Seeing Sam acknowledge this for the first time made my heart ache a little, I'm not gonna lie.

(And if I'm already emotional this early in the show, I can only imagine how I'm gonna be when things get real. Dear Lord, give me strength)

[armpirate]

Anti-romantic || JJk | Ch. 18

Pairings: Boxer!Jungkook x fem!reader || Enemies to lovers, neighbors

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, curse, illegal boxing, violence

Warnings: fuckboy!Jungkook x reader, smut, dirty talk, curse, mention of tarot and fate

Summary: Jungkook had always been carefree when it came to love. He always believed he was worth sharing himself with everyone, and thought it was selfish of him to ever think of keeping himself exclusive to just one person.

And maybe that was exactly what got him into the big problem he was in.

A curse that kept him away from love didn't seem an issue for him. The fact that his ex-girlfriend thought he'd be affected by the idea of the girls he slept with running away from him after sex was ridiculous. She actually did him a favor, and took a burden away from him.

At least that was what he thought at first.

He had never found himself thinking of the possibility of repeating with neither of his hook ups, because they disappeared before he was able to even think about it. But when he makes the mistake of sleeping with the sexy neighbor that lives in front of him, he finds himself hoping to get the chance for a second round every time their paths cross.

Y/n hated him the second he set foot inside the building by the way he started making her life a miserable mess for no reason. Sleeping with him was a big mistake she wasn't thinking of repeating. At least not until he came up with the excuse that she rejected him for a curse. Not only she thought he was annoying, but she was also convinced he was crazy. 

There was no way she could take him seriously.

Aprox. time of reading: 16 minutes

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

While she was rinsing her hair, Y/n could only hope that canary yellow was gone from her hair. It took her a lot of showering, spending a lot of money on hair dyes, and a big big self love not to let the murmuring and giggles get to her when she was forced to go to work looking like that.

It didn't matter how much she tried to hide that ugly hair color under a beanie, it came out somehow. All the time.

As she left the towel on the toilet, she wondered out loud how that tint got to her shampoo. And why did it have Jungkook's name written all over it. Confronting him about it was useless, he'd deny it. But at the same time he made sure she knew it was him with his awful jokes and that dumb smirk she'd love to erase.

He crossed a line that day.

She was surprised when she found him at her door, with one hand placed on the right side of her door frame while he waited for her to show up in front of him. Her eyes rolled just imagining what he could be there for, making her sigh so loud that he was able to hear it from the other side.

And that sound, for some reason, created some type of satisfaction in his system, getting exactly what he expected from her.

—What do you want? —she placed her head against her door.

—I need to speak to you, face to face —his tone sounded serious, as he tried to keep his face away from the peephole.

—If you're looking for a victim for your failed dream to become a hairstylist, I'm not home today.

—But I'm speaking to you.

—You're speaking to my answerphone, not me.

—Whatever —he threw his head back, allowing her to see his exposed neck—. I think we should be mature enough, and talk about this topic while looking at each other. There's something I really need to tell you, and I can only do it if you open the door for me.

While she wanted to ignore what he was saying, it made her curious to know what was that serious issue they needed to discuss, and that clearly had nothing to do with the new hair that only lasted a few days. As she looked back through the peephole, she could see his eye becoming bigger than the rest of his head as he approached it, attempting to look through it as well with no luck.

She had nothing to lose. Maybe he was there to apologize for what he did, maybe that was the last attempt to become a functional adult, who's able to see past his mistakes and take accountability for the things he had done wrong.

Y/n completely ignored his victorious smirk when she first opened her door, confronting him for the first time that morning after she managed to get back to her cold hair color that she never wanted to change.

—Oh —he pointed up at her hair—, I'll miss the yellow.

—Sure you will —those words went through her teeth like daggers—. What did you want? I'm busy.

—It's Saturday.

—So? I'm busy.

Actually, she wasn't. The most difficult thing was dealing with her hair, and she already got it done.

But Jungkook didn't need to know that.

—Busy with sitting around at home doing nothing?

—Exactly.

—Okay then... I'll be quick —he shrugged—. I know we've had a lot of ups and downs, I know I'vee made it difficult for you to live here for the past month and a half. But I think we should try to grow closer as neighbors, we should actually stick together. We see each other more than we see our families, right? —instead of receiving the response he expected, Y/n simply rolled her eyes— We shouldn't be fighting all the time. We actually should do something to improve our relationship. And what's better than trusting each other?

It did look like an apology. Or at least an attempt of truce.

—Yeah, I agree —she nodded.

—Fine —he took her wrist, moving her hand to him—. Somebody will come to repair the air conditioner, but I need to go to work. And since you're here doing nothing, you could open the door for them. Thanks —he quickly informed, leaving his keys in her hand.

Y/n had no time to oppose that responsibility, which she clearly didn't want to have, because Jungkook sprinted towards the stairs before she could even realize what he had said. The keys were still lying in her palm, while she looked at the curve Jungkook disappeared in the fastest she had ever seen him.

At first she was confused, annoyed even. She couldn't wrap her head around the fact that Jungkook had the audacity to ask her for a favor after he sneaked in her house, acting like her boyfriend -which also led to her mother still being hung up on it, despite of how many times she tried to deny it-, and tinted her hair in the most awful hair color to exist. She wasn't able to see quite the good part of that until the technician spilled a comment that had her brain thinking.

—He's lucky to have a neighbor he can trust. I know the most innocent thing mine would do is steal the microwave.

She had spent those days trying to think of a way to get back at Jungkook, her mind wasn't as evil to think of something straight away, but being inside his house gave her a whole new perspective.

Cutting the optical fiber so he couldn't watch his football matches that had her rolling her eyes? Tinting his laundry in an ugly color to throw to waste all of his clothes? If he had a contact book, she could even call one of his hook ups so he'd find her there when he came back.

There were so many choices that would work so perfectly...

Two knocks on the door interrupted her evil plan making, having her turning on her tracks towards the door to find a woman that had some features that resembled Jungkook's. She couldn't put it past him that he was so self-centered that he was turned on by hooking up with someone that looked like the female version of himself.

—Oh, I might've got it wrong.

—Depends on who you're looking for —Y/n interrupted her.

—Jungkook lives here?

—Yeah, but he isn't home —she tried to explain—. He's off for work —and considering it was afternoon already, he probably would take three more hours to come back—, but he won't take too long. Can I ask who's looking for him? Are you another...?

—I'm his mother.

Whatever attempt to make him look like a serial cheater got stuck in her throat with that answer, suddenly feeling bad at putting that poor woman through something as uncomfortable as that.

It was a logical answer, but with Jungkook it was better not to expect the expected.

They looked so alike in some ways, but they looked so different in others. That lady looked elegant, Y/n could even bet her bag cost one month of rent; while Jungkook was... Jungkook.

—You must be his girlfriend?

—Yeah, yeah —she nodded—. That's why I'm here, because we're living together.

Even if the idea of seeing Jungkook settling with someone was too far-fetched.

—You look so sweet —she genuinely mentioned—. Could you tell him I came?

—He doesn't know you are going to be here? —Y/n frowned, confused.

—Difficult if he doesn't pick up my calls —her laugh was nervous, grimacing at the end—. I'll come back another day.

So he was the type to completely ignore his parents...

And that gave her the brightest idea she had in the last few days.

—Why don't you wait for him here? —Y/n suggested.

—I don't think it'll be a good idea.

—Don't be stupid. I mean... —she giggled, insisting on having her step inside his house— You already came all the way here, you can't leave where you came from. Come in, please.

As she closed the door behind her, she couldn't stop imagining Jungkook's face when he saw his mother there.

—Do you want to go for a beer today? —Jimin suggested, palming his shoulder from behind.

Jungkook didn't bother looking up, he knew exactly what facial expression his friend had on his face to try to convince him.

—I pass —he shook his head—. Y/n had the key to my apartment, and I think it'll be testing fate too much.

—Who in their sane mind would give his keys to the person who wants revenge on them?

—Why did you sound like a narrator of one of those lame rom-coms trailers?

—Say whatever you want, but I'm not the one going back to a house on fire —Jimin walked back.

—She wouldn't set it on fire —he denied, chuckling with it—. She'd burn her house as well if she did it. Also that's too brutal to be Y/n's idea. Good thing is I don't have anything at home that could hurt me to see it destroyed.

—Only for saying that, I hope she had broken everything at her reach.

—One thing about my neighbor: she isn't made for being vile and sneaky —Jungkook assured his friend—. That's why it's so fun to mess with her: I get entertainment, knowing it won't hurt too bad.

—Karma will bite your ass —Jimins squinted his eyes—. And I'm not hoping for it, I'm telling you it will.

—If karma is the artistic name of a new Victoria Secret's model, she can bite wherever she wants.

—You're disgusting —Jimin commented, shortly before stepping outside the office.

Every day in the gym was the same for him: he arrived early in the morning, hid inside the office until it was time for the few training sessions he had scheduled, he trained himself for a bit, and hid back inside in the office until it was the time to close the establishment.

That was his life.

Right when he was picking up the few things some of the people that went there left, like empty water bottles or those boxing bandages, he heard the door opening again.

—We're closed —he sighed, not turning to the person who had just stepped inside the dark place—. Come back tomorrow.

—Are you Jeon Jungkook?

He smirked at the mention of his name by a deep male voice, thinking he'd be the one in the winning end if he just pumped his chest a bit and showed that confident persona he loved showing off to intimidate others.

—Depends on who's asking —he sighed, finally getting up from the floor.

—Alessandro Rossi.

When he turned around, he saw a tall bald man, that was twice his size, looking at him attentively, while the youngest man behind him -and that was staring at everything going on from afar- just was a witness of the conversation.

Jungkook's blood went cold at the mention of that name, knowing that it'd bring no good.

—Wow, is he finally honoring me by acknowledging my gym? Look, I am a bit disappointed it took him so long after all these years, but you can tell him I forgive him. I can...

He wasn't able to say anything else, before his words were cut by a sudden punch to his jaw that made him instantly dizzy. Shaking his head to get some control of his body back, he saw the bald man rolling up the sleeves of his black sweater, stepping closer to him.

—Oh, he does know you.

Jungkook blocked his right hook, attempting to punch back. And he probably would've succeeded if that bully hadn't come with his little friend, who stopped him before he was able to defend himself, finding his arm under his grip, so the other could be able to beat him up as he pleased.

He lost count of all the hits he received, every punch hurt less with his body going numb slowly, only able to keep standing by the way the younger man was holding him from behind.

Jungkook was used to the pain of the punches after so many fights, but it was so different after not being able to fight back, losing all control of his body when they both just stopped messing with his body as they let him fall to the ground heavily. His sight was blurry, only able to distinguish some silhouettes, as he felt the blood dripping from his face.

—Next time you try to get on mister Rossi's business, or pretend to stop a fight, we'll burn this mousetrap with you inside.

He wasn't able to do two plus two right away, before his brain had to process the kick straight at his mouth and that made his body fall flat back on the floor. Their steps sounded heavy, echoed in his head as he tried to stare at the ceiling among the darkness while recovering his breath.

He lost count of how much time he spent in that same position. Actually, he didn't even know how he managed to close the gym and walk to his motorbike, losing every attempt of putting the helmet on, before he started the engine and drove to his place.

The crashing sound of his motorbike against the pavement as he tried to park it next to the entrance to his building would've hurted him any other day, but that day he was too focused on standing on his feet without losing his balance.

It had been a long while since he saw himself like that. Jungkook hadn't been in such a low state since he started gaining experience in those boxing parties, and even then his body was aching to the point that he felt pain at the mere move of his leg to take one step.

His body wobbled, forcing him to reach his hand to the wide door frame so he wouldn't fall. And he didn't try to start walking again until he breathed deeply, considering whether to take the step not to annoy Y/n, or take the lift to give his body a rest.

—She'll come at me for any other reason, anyway —he thought, dragging his body to the big metallic box.

The lift slightly trembled as Jungkook rested his body against one of the walls, quietly moaning to press the button that'd take to his floor.

Hearing her voice inside his apartment was reassuring somehow, making him feel like at least he'd be back to someone it didn't bother him to see. At least he'd be able to tease her a bit, and feel entertained before he cried himself to sleep.

But her voice was suddenly followed by a different one. And he couldn't recognize it. It sounded muffled due to the walls, but it sounded familiar.

He swore he'd kill Y/n if she had allowed in one of his hook ups after she came looking for him, which was something that had never happened before.

As he opened the door, and stepped inside his house to a clearer voice, he tried to gain some stability back to confront the woman Y/n was hanging out with. He completely omitted the panic in her face, or how quickly she asked what happened. His rage was only centered at one person that had no business to do there.

Seeing Y/n in that state, barely able to hold on and open his eyes to look at them, with his face and clothes covered with blood, instantly made her expect the worst, sprinting towards him to help him out however she was able to.

—What are you doing here? —he grunted with a raspy voice.

At first, she thought he was talking to her, forcing her to look up at his face as she tried to hook his arm around her shoulder. Although it wasn't her. He was furious, dedicating that woman a look that she had never seen before. It was like he was ready to bark everything that was going through his head.

—Let's talk about it later —his mother tried to get him to calm down—. Let me h...

As soon as she tried to land a hand on his other arm to help Y/n, Jungkook moved it away abruptly, also making Y/n move her hands away and almost causing her to lose her balance.

—I want nothing from you. Wasn't it clear all the times I've told you the same? —he hoarsed— I don't want you here, and I don't care why you came looking for me. Did you run out of money now? That's what you want? Huh? Because I have nothing for you. Nothing. And I don't want to see you again, I don't want to get anything from you.

—Jungkook... —Y/n tried to stop him.

—I told you already: you're dead to me. So do exactly the same thing you've been doing all this time, and disappear.

Y/n gulped thick as she saw the tension between them, seeing the guilt and pain in his mother's face, and the rage and annoyance on his. She couldn't understand what the older woman mumbled as she walked past them with a sad expression. Her apology probed on her lips, but never coming with a sound.

—I don't want you here either —Jungkook turned to Y/n.

—I don't want to be here either —she answered back, turning completely to him—. But I'm not going to leave you like this.

—What are you going to do? Piss me off until my face doesn't look like this? You've done enough already.

—Well, I don't care —she shrugged.

When his mother commented how she had a small fall out with her son, Y/n thought it was a small fight that was meaningless, she couldn't imagine Jungkook reacting that way.

—You make me pay attention to your place, because you think I'm your personal portress, and now you want me to leave? —Y/n loudly scoffed— Sit on that damned couch, unless you want me to shower you up with antiseptic.

He could've insisted, Jungkook knew that if only he had told her again, she probably would've given in. But instead, he followed her guidance, huffing while he walked to his couch, knowing that the worst part was yet to come.

And he was right.

His body squirmed every time she moved the gauze over one of the wounds on his face, clenching his teeth together to keep the moans he was dying to let out to himself.

—You won't ask how this happened?

Knowing Y/n, it was strange she didn't even attempt to ask. She was surprised by how he looked, but not about why it happened.

—Knowing your history, it was a matter of time until this happened —her comment almost made him laugh.

If he wasn't wrong, it was likely that those bullies came to him because of how he got in between Y/n's fight a few weeks back. It was better not to let her know.

—...sorry —she muttered.

—What was that? —Jungkook opened his eyes to look at her.

—Nothing.

—You said something.

—I just said —she mentioned, almost overlapping with his words— that I'm sorry. I didn't know you had such a bad relationship with your mother.

She thought it was nothing bigger than a dumb fight, she couldn't imagine it was as big as serious as Jungkook showed.

He didn't answer back, he didn't think it was needed. But seeing her so serious, and disappointed, pushed a button that got him to speak. He didn't have to explain himself, or the situation, but he felt it was right to do so.

—She cheated on my father —he mentioned—. It was years ago, but I just can't forgive her —as he spoke, her hands moved away from his face and dropped to her lap—. She left, and she didn't care about what she left behind. My dad went through hell, he almost lost his house after he got fired from his workplace, because the quality in his job also got affected because of the situation. I got my ass beaten up countless times just to earn some extra money to pay the bills, because my job wasn't enough to pay half of the things. Not once she cared about all that, and now she wants to act like nothing happened...

Y/n didn't know what to do, or say. She just looked at him attentively, surprised by that new side of him. She was so used to bickering with him, or seeing him being a pay in the ass, that that new side of him felt like a completely different person.

—I know how you feel.

Before she was able to elaborate on her words, Jungkook's scoff interrupted her.

—And you remind me a lot of my brother —she nervously smiled.

—He also thought you were annoying?

—He also did illegal fights to earn money when there was no other choice —she quickly shut down his attempt to joke around.

His smirk dropped with her answer, finally finding some sense into what her mother asked her when she met him.

—My dad also left, without saying a thing —she started—. He left a lot of unpaid bills and debts, my mother suffered depression and wasn't able to work. Me and my brother tried to work, but our salaries just covered a few things. That's how he started, until he died in one of those fights.

—That's why you're so stubborn about the article?

—If the only thing I got from it was recognition, I would've published it already —she commented—. I want to see all of those people exposed, and I want to find the person that put my brother into that fight —she threw the gauze on the table.

—Why didn't you tell me?

—Did I have to? —she lifted her eyebrow— You didn't need to know more than the fact that it was going to be written.

—Well, it'd have changed a lot of things.

—You'd have helped me? Like you're thinking of now? —she cut him off— Forget it. I don't want your help anymore.

—Y/n, I only said it because it's dangerous.

—And I know —she nodded.

She started picking up her things, getting up from the couch before she started heading towards the door.

—Put a lot of ice everywhere. Or not. I don't care.

Suddenly, a lot of things made sense for Jungkook. She was so used to healing that type of wounds, she was so familiar with that dark environment, that he should have known it went further than just being a good professional passionate about her work.

She lived all of that up close. She knew all the consequences and still went for it. 

Taglist: @jk97bam @ttanniett

[officialhunterthefox]

I am not gonna Pin this since I have my intro pinned so yall can reblog this a bunch of times if y’want

(If there are spelling mistakes its due to me typing so fast)😭

LEMME GIVE SOME BACKSTORY INTO VIRUSKILLER! KINITO‼️‼️

Kinito, being on the windows XP computer was deleted by the user, stuck in the abyss of code for a few years. He still secretly could access some files, even if they were trashed with him, he noticed there was less trash files and assumed that this computer is useless to the user. He checked his own files and noticed he had many updates for his code, he was a bit hesitant but he pressed the “OK” button, his whole code, form, and body was transformed into the data, satellites, and the wifi of the users home. He looked and noticed his body was entirely new, his code was improved and he could do so much more. He used this new ability to travel through the wifi of the home to find a new device that the user uses most. He found the Windows 10 location and entered the new device. He was surprised that this computer was so, new. As he was about to make himself comfortable the device made an error saying he was a virus that went past the firewall, he was upset at this and realized he entered a device with somewhat good security. He went to go online and download himself onto the device so it wouldn’t delete him, one it did he hid the app and managed to make himself indestructible and unremovable. After a few months he got another new update, asking if “Would you want kinitopet.exe to be replaced?” He said no obviously, and suddenly many pixels and loud noises began to happen, he realized a virus was trying to get in and obliterated each one. Though,, it was a bit sadistic the way he did. As he killed off the viruses he was becoming more powerful… he didn’t want ALL of the power and decided something. He looked into his code and file and created something entirely new to kinitopet. Syrma, was her name, an exact duplicate of him, besides the female and slightly different colors. He knew his story would be a bit different now and would teach this little girl to not do the same decisions as him. Kinito is a virus but is way more stable and controlling in his power (don’t question why he is a virus.)

- this one is the FICTIONAL creators pov (the creator of kinito.pet) -

The creator decided to improve kinito, but noticed many people wouldn’t interact with kinito and made syrma, kinito was oblivious to that fact and assumed he created syrma. Before the creator made syrma they manipulated her and taught her how to be a menace to users. Meanwhile kinito taught her how to help and teach users and respect them. Syrma can turn into a virus at anytime, which is why this photo exists

Alright, now the reason why kinito is distant with his friends: The creator forced them all apart, as they were forced they all technically moved on. (Sam and kinito send secret emails to another, while kinito and jade never see each other but jade is helpful to babysit syrma at anytime.)

Quick sam info: He works for a sea life resort and protects all sea life

Quick jade info: She is a billionaire due to making so many toys, she donates a lot to charity and poor around the world.

Once you interact with VirusKiller!Kinito, he will ask you why you deleted him, and assume it was a mistake. (He is very clingy and desperate for the user to come back, and once they do he may get very pushy and shower you with gifts, tending to follow you around anywhere on your browser.)

(Edited version under photos)

Facts and sillies:

VirusKiller!Kinito is a very, tired and overwhelmed guardian of syrma, always dealing with her,,, special actions,,,

Kinito holds a grudge against the user but hides it very well. He plans one day to get his payback.

Syrma and Kinito HATE their creator, parental issues lmao.

Kinito has 4 monster forms.

Syrma has 2 monster forms.

Syrma has selective mutism around certain people. Syrma also used to have a blind right eye which soon was cured.

Both kinito and syrma are extremely flexible and don't really have "bones" due to being digital.

Syrma usually squeaks around people she trusts, or when she is happy.

Syrma cannot detect viruses unlike kinito, due to her meant to be a virus.

Kinito has BAD anger issues and can physically make the computer overheat.

[nobeesnova]

this could have been the moment for American Leftism.

with margins this tight in key battleground races, this could have been the chance to prove just how vital leftist votes are for the Democratic Party. but it's not, because leftists would rather screech about how "useless" and "immoral" voting is, and how "both parties are the same" despite decades of precedent saying otherwise.

this could have been the moment, but too many leftists would rather cozy up to grifters and Russian assets because they said the magic words leftists wanted to hear. yet, when the Democratic candidate says them, suddenly the magic was gone, and the words they wanted to hear had changed.

because it was never about the issues. it was always about hating Democrats.

but that's how it always is, isn't it. leftists will always find some cause, some movement to co-opt if it means getting to criticize the Democratic Party. it doesn't matter if the alternative is worse, because the alternative's "just going to happen anyway", like some sort of force of nature. once leftists land on an "enemy", every other part of the equation loses its agency. it doesn't matter who started the fight, or how bad everyone else involved is, as long as Democrats are the ones who get punished in the end.

and in the end, none of it matters. if Kamala Harris wins in November, she will have done so in spite of how much effort leftists have put into trying to stop her. and if she loses, it will be because of them.

and if in four years we are fortunate enough to have another presidential election, and the current Republican nominee doesn't get to corrupt America into the fascist theocracy he and his supporters want it to be, nobody is going to make the mistake of listening to leftists.

and they have nobody to blame but themselves.