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FATE FAKE STRANGE TV ADAPTATION CONGRAAAATS AAWOOOOO WE ARE WINNING !!!!!!!
#fate strange fake#fsf#gilgamesh#enkidu#richard lionheart#what's tine full name again#chimera#WHATS RICHARD MASTER S NAME AGAIN#MY BRAIN REALLY WENT BRRRRR GIL AND ENKIDU ONLY#tine chelc#Ayaka saijou#Thanks op !
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Sergei
Kraven x Reader [Pt.2]
Big cat man has a weak spot for little cats and their owner. / A simple domestic, fluffy one where a quick job takes an unexpected turn.
Wordcount: 2.6k
Kraven wanted to hit the Spider man where it hurt the most; his found family.
That family included you, so let's go over that day you met, yeah?
All he had was your name, social media profile pics and an adress his people managed to conjure up for him.
So there he was, parked a few blocks away, ready to get to his first prey. He made his way into the apartment building and followed the door numbers untill he had reached the right one.
He had decided to give this a more stealthy approach, so instead of simply breaking down your door he picked the lock and let himself in quietly. With one hand on the door handle and the other on his knife he stepped into your home, immediately being alarmed by the animals either hissing at him or scurrying away. He quietly closed the door behind him, taking in his surroundings and being almost stunned by the little piece of paradise you seemed to live in. He stepped around in your apartment, careful not to step on any of the many cat toys sprawled all over and avoiding any of the cats that were curiously staring at him. He stared at your walls covered in fabric covered shelves amd scratching poles, little food and water bowls everywhere. Without thinking about it he reached out for one of the furry residents who happily pressed its head into his palm. As one started, the others slowly became more comfortable around him as well and within a short moment he was surrounded by cats of all shapes and sizes.
He padded around a bit more untill he had reached your small kitchen, staring at the lion themed towels and the cat shaped mugs behind the glass cabinet doors. A touch to his leg pulls him from his thoughts as he spots the big, red cat rubbing against his calf, purring for attention. He reaches down to pet him and makes the mistake of sitting down because quickly he is stuck with his back against the kitchen cabinets and a large cat in his lap with more surrounding him.
You're done at the store a few blocks from your home and make your way back with a small bag of food and another one full of cat treats.
You get to your floor and walk along the hall until you reach your door, putting the key into the lock and opening the door with only a small twist of the key. 'Ugh, again?' You think to yourself, making a mental note to remember to check if you locked your door before you walk away next time.
Entering your house you're immediately noticing you're not being welcomed like you usually are. There's no crazy meowing or paws trying to grab whatever is in the plastic bags. Really, only two of your oldest cats were to be seen from your spot at the door as you put your keys and phone on the little side table.
You stepped forward to say hi to the old, grey one closest to you gave him some pats and made your way through the livingroom, turning the corner and stopping dead in your tracks across from your kitchen entrance.
The bags previously in your hand hit the floor with a loud crunch, startling some of your cats, them scurrying away to their hiding places. 'What the hell..'
Before you were almost all of your cats, surrounding a man who was sitting against your kitchen cabinets with your biggest orange cat in his lap, clearly demanding scratches as he complained loudly every tine the man removed his hands from him.
"You uh.. You got a great place here." Who was this guy? And see? You did lock your door when you left! You just stood there, staring in confusion.
"What?" Was all your brain was doing. What was he doing here? What's the meaning of this? How did he even get in here and why is this stupidly handsome cat loving man on my kitchen floor? Who even is he?
A sigh left the man's lips as your loving companion clawed at his hands and pulled it back onto him for the umpteenth time in the short period he had been there.
"I'm Sergei." He spoke, looking up at you. "And you're a friend of the spider man." The way he stated it so matter of factly immediately sent you into panic mode, fidgeting to grab your phone, remembering you had put it at the door. Your cursed at yourself, not wanting to turn around to grab it because if he knew about you and spiderman there was no way this guy was gonna let you reach that phone.
He raised one of his hands, not wanting go raise the other as well and get scratched again. It was so stupid how you just stopped thinking of grabbing your phone when you noticed his sweet gestures towards your pets and the way they all seemed to love him. Your friends always joked about how you could never be someone's friend if your cats didn't like them, and since they all liked this man.. They liked Sergei so you just slowly picked up your bags and started putting the items away. You two talked, mostly about your crazy amount of animals and the things he observed about them as you walked around, keeping a close eye on him in the meantime.
"This guy is nice, what's his name?" Sergei spoke, pointing at the cat still draped over his legs. "That fatty is Nacho, he usually hates new people." You muse from beside him, squatted down to put the cat food on the bottom shelf. You look over at them, reaching to give Nacho some belly rubs like he wasn't still laying in this stranger's lap.
"You still haven't told me why you're here." You stood up and grabbed four large party snack plates and a box of wet food, deviding ghe food in small portions. You quietly shook your head as Sergei hadn't said anything yet. With the amount of space you needed to prepare this food, you had stepped so far to the side that his shoulder was resting against your leg. You nudged him with your knee, getting his attention. "You know you can just, like, put him on the floor, right?" They both looked up at you like you had just offended their families. "Get up and give a hand here."
He blinked in surprise with how direct you were being with him and gave an apologetic look to the animal in his lap before picking him up and placing him on the tile floor. Getting up he let out a tired groan aa he lazily reached for the two outter plates you jad prepared and basically trapping you between him and the counter. "Now, where do you want these?" He asks quietly, laughing softly to himself as he sees you stammering, trying so hard to find the words of the locations you put the cats' dinner. He chuckles and picks up the plates, carecully walking around to find the right spots and making sure not to accidentally kick any of the eager felines trying to get as close as possible to the food.
He looks around, spotting an empty side table and placing the first one there before taking the other one to a spot where three cats sat waiting on the floor.
By the time he had finished placing the food you were back to yourself enough to put the remaining plates away on autopilot, only stopping to aimlessly walk around as you see Sergei again, very carefully petting one of the older cats and letting it lick some sauce off his fingers. You walked closer, not taking your eyes off the scene in front of you, shocked that old Mr. Snowball was actually accepting food like that.
"He never does that.." you state blankly, more to yourself than to your guest. He had heard your comment and smiled to himself, petting the old cat some more and kept feeding it for a bit longer. You stood closer to him now, closely observing his movements and body language, hoping to learn something from the way he managed to feed the one cat who barely even wanted to eat his favorite snacks anymore.
The doorbell made you both jump, taking away your focus on the scene before you as you walked to open the door, realization hitting you that you completely forgot to cancel your dinner order after your friend canceled your plans earlier today. You open the door and accept the food, thanking the delivery guy with a sweet smile and close the door with your foot.
"So, hungry?" You quip withtour hands full of takeout boxes. The confused stare you receive isn't really helping you feel less awkward about the whole situation. "I forgot to cancel the food order after my friend called me she couldn't make it tonight." You continue to ramble about today's events being all messed up, and on top of that having a complete stranger in her house.
During your speech he had moved over and carefully taken the boxes from your hands, setting them on the small coffeetable in front of the tv. "I can eat." His answer came out so simple, not even phased by your rather offensive wording from only a minute ago. With some convincing he managed to get you to sit down on the couch.
He sits down at the tsble on the floor, his back against the couch seats right next to you. "I'm not here to hurt you." He speaks softly without looking at you. "Well.." A sigh leaves his lips. "Not anymore, at least."
You sigh, head laid back against the back cushions. "You're one of Spidey's enemies." It wasn't even a question. You recalled him mentioning you being friends with him earlier.
He turned to face you, one arm over the couch seat. "I can't hurt someone like you." You gave him a look at his choice of words. "You care more for these creatures than for yourself. I love that." Turning baxk to the table, he took one of the takeout boxes and handed it to you. "Altough I believe you need to start caring for yourseld a bit more. I looked inside your fridge." You fake whince at the fridge mention and accept the food, quickly taking a bite.
"So," still chewing on your food, you start. "You broke into my apartment to either kill me or hurt me very bad.." You looked at him and shook your head. "But you decided not to when you learned I like animals more than people?"
He lets out a laugh at that. "Yes. That is the basics." You smile back at him. "Well, be glad my cats like you, then. Otherwise I would have tried to kick you out and I'd have gotten hurt and slash or killed for sure. And honestly I'm surprised you managed to feed him." Nodding your head in the direction of the old cat in the corner. He follows your gaze and smiles to himself. "What can I say? I'm a cat person." He shrugs casually, eating some more fries.
Looking at the table you realised you wanted something to drink. You got up and placed your food bsck on the table, walking over to the kitchen to retrieve a bottle and two glasses, setting them all down on the table and pouring you both a glass. You sit back down and the two of you finish your food together.
After dinner you gather everything off the table, taking the stack and putting it away, bringing back a new bottle of drinks from the kitchen.
As you sat back down you missed your little side table and scooted over to the other side, placing your glass next to you and settling down right behind Sergei who was still on the floor. "You don't have to stay down there, you know." You mention. He looks up at you, his head now touching your lower legs as you sit cross-legged behind him. "I'm good here. Easy access to these guys." His hands again reaching out to pet some more wandering cats. He had closed his eyes halfway into his sentence and kept his head laying against your leg. Without thinking twice you let one of your own hands wander and softly brushed your fingers through his oh so soft looking curls. He let out a soft hum at that and you couldn't help but laugh at yourself a little.
"What's so funny?" With a quirked up eyebrow he watches you through one opened eye.
"It's just, my friends always told me I have a horrible taste in men,"
With that he openend his eyes to look at you properly. "What I mean is, they would totally kick me out of the friendgroup if they saw me here, having dinner and being cute with a guy who had plans to kill me." You kept playing with his hair as you spoke nervously to which he let out a soft hum and put a hand up to pat your leg. "You think they'd dare to say anything if they saw me next to you?" Putting the emphasis on the 'me' by motioning at himself and mostly his physique.
You nodded in agreement, knowing how absolutely intimidating he looked when he stood upright, so close and looking down on you at the kitchen counter. Not even the image of the gorgeous man towering over you, an image that would have normally helped distract you from literally anything, wasn't even helping against the anxiety that was coursing through your head right now.
Meanwhile your hands were still in his hair and his hand was still resting on your leg, the other coming up as well to rub comforting circles on your skin. "You really have to relax, little rabbit. I can feel you stressing out.." He leaned over on the couch and hopped up on it next to you, back agsinst the oposite armrest with one leg against the backrest and the other dangling off the seat. One of his hands reached out to give your shoulder a queeze and grabbed your arm, causing you to let out a yelp as he pulled you against him. He easily manhandled you on top of him, your side against his front and legs stuck between his. You let out a long, tired breath and told yourself to focus on his warmth instead of the gnawing, angry yelling in the back of your head. One of his hands dangled next to the couch, waiting for one of the cats to bump their head against if before picking one up and placing it next to you, petting it softly so it laid down for you to pet as well.
"Thankyou," you softly said getting more comfortable against him, nuzzling against his clothed chest. You had no idea how he managed, but in this short time from feeding your cats till now he had made you feel more normal than anyone else had ever done. His strong arms wrapped around you and pulled you further into him, his legs wrapping around and covering yours. Your face was now hidden in his neck and his lips were on your temple, a low, rumbling satisfied hum coming from his as he inhaled your scent. You returned his gesture by softly pressing your lips against his jawline, not exactly kissing it but just holding them there for a short moment.
He could feel the smile forming against his jaw and slowly led his fingers to your chin while moving slightly to capture your lips with his own. Without hesitation you maneuvered yourself to wrap your arms around him and kiss him back properly, scaring your cat away by doing so making you both laugh and separate. When he looked up at you he saw the tears theatening to spill, placing a hand on your cheek. "Let me care for you like you care for your creatures." It wasn't really a question, more of a statement of which the details would be discussed later. You sniffled, "Yeah," and nodded in agreement. "I'd like that."
#kraven the hunter#sergei kravinoff#kraven x reader#sergei kravinoff x reader#sergei x reader#kraven the hunter fanfic#kraven the hunter imagine#sergei kravinoff imagine#aaron taylor johnson#sometimes I write#fluff
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I Can't Cross O'er: An Interlude
CW: Captivity, child of whumper POV, blood, referenced whipping, magical whumpee, siren whump. For @amonthofwhump Tropeathon Day 4: Monster! Monster!
Bones in the Ocean Masterlist
-
Six years ago
A door shut, clicking into place, just down the hall. Carefully hidden inside one of the seven bedrooms in this wing of the house, Ford and his sister Nathalie waited, listening, as the man in the hallway took a deep breath. “By God,” The man muttered. “What a voice he has.”
Nathalie tried to peek around Ford's arm. “Is he-”
“Sssshhh.” Ford swatted at Nathalie without looking at her, and she swatted back.
“Like an angel…” The man continued, not realizing he had an audience - if currently a distracted one. “An absolute angel. The way he sings..."
Nathalie poked Ford right in his ticklish side with one finger, jabbing roughly. "Ford-"
"I said sssshh!"
"Don’t you dare tell me to shush, Guilford,” Nathalie hissed.
Ford looked at her, and whatever she saw on his face made the momentary triumph of mocking him with his hated full first name drain from hers. She laid a hand on his arm, then, awkwardly patting, whispering, “I’m sorry. I'm so sorry, Ford, I didn't mean it-"
“Don’t ever call me his name,” Ford said, but his voice was weak. Like always since his mother died, he felt tears rise unbidden and had to fight them back below. “Please, please don’t.”
“I didn’t mean it,” Nathalie whispered. Her eyes were huge and sad in the light that filtered in through the gauzy curtains across the room. “I really didn’t. I’m sorry, Ford. You’re not like him at all. I promise you're not."
He found a smile for her, just to watch the way her shoulders, which had hunched up, relaxed again. “It’s… it’s all right.” There was another sound, and Ford turned back, trying to peek through a crack in the door they were hidden just behind again. He couldn’t quite see the man, but he could hear him still muttering to himself. Thankfully, the Lord Fellswooth spoke to himself loudly enough that he hadn’t overheard them and realized he was being spied on by two of Lord Wentworth’s children.
Or grandchildren.
Or... prisoners.
Whoever they really were to him.
Seconds passed, and Ford could see in his mind the way the tall, strikingly thin Lord Fellswooth must be patting down his shirt, checking for wrinkles or any detail out of place. He’d been a fussy one at supper earlier, the sort to surreptitiously check the tines of his fork over before taking a single bite, as if checking for a smudge or a bit of tarnish he might make a barbed comment about. He was probably running quick fingers through his hair to get the little curl of salt-and-pepper over his forehead just so - he’d done that over and over since he’d come to meet with Lord Wentworth, as if it were some sort of compulsion rather than simple vanity.
Ford’s teeth worried at his lower lip as he listened to Fellswooth take a deep breath, murmur it was only a business call, of course, Theresa, that’s all, as if he were rehearsing his lines for a play, before he turned to leave. The two children eased back and away so no hint of them might be seen as he went past them - Ford's eyebrows knitted in confusion at a spot of bright red he saw on the Lord's cheek, smeared like he'd rubbed open a wound. The Lord's steps were nearly soundless thanks to the plush gold-threaded rug that ran the length of the hall all the way to the grand staircase that would take him right out the front door.
The butler met him there.
Mr. Keller was chilly sometimes but Ford mostly found him kind. His voice filtered up the stairs as he let Lord Fellswooth know his horse was saddled and waiting for him just outside. Mr. Keller had been around forever, he was very old and soon to retire, Father- the man who made them call him Father, anyway - said. He’d made mistakes, sometimes… more often lately.
There had been some sort of trouble with Mr. Keller writing letters that made no sense, begging for rescue from employment, that had led to some distant relations coming to the door last month, worried for his health.
Father had assured them all was well, and after speaking to Mr. Keller over a few days, the cousins or whoever had gone away again. Mr. Keller had been... different, ever since, but still mostly kind to the children.
Ford’s father read all Mr. Keller’s letters now before he sent them, and he’d put out an advert and told his very important friends he was looking for a new butler, that Mr. Keller was ready to step down and have a well-earned rest.
If he didn't just get thrown in the pond with the monster, like Ford's real father had been.
Once Fellswooth was safely gone, Ford eased out into the hall, the well-oiled hinges moving in perfect silence as he swung open the door. Nathalie was on his heels, creeping just behind him. They made their silent way towards the door that the fussy Lord had just come out of.
Ford paused just a foot away and turned to look at his sister over his shoulder, putting a finger to his lips.
Nathalie nodded, solemnly. Like Ford, she still wore a black armband, the sign of mourning after their mother’s death the year before. At ten, her face was losing the child’s roundness and thinning out. She looked like their mother had, more every year, and sometimes it hurt Ford to look at her at all. It would be six more years before their father would want to start looking into marrying her off, which meant only four years until marriage might happen for Ford.
The thought terrified him.
Ford had become a part of his father’s grasping ambitions only a month after Mother died, when she could no longer protect her children from Lord Wentworth’s plans for his family. Ever since, he’d been subjected to endless lectures on business ventures he didn’t care about overseas, tutored for hours every day on how to convince other nobles to speak to his father about those business ventures, or selling land, or… whatever it was that Guilford Wentworth wanted from them. All those lessons, in the end, centered around learning how to lie - or how to bring the aristocrats and royalty to meet with his father and his father’s awful creature.
Alongside all that unwanted education had been a rise in the careless, constant violence that had already dogged him all his life. He was not good enough at the skills Lord Wentworth wanted him to learn. He did not lie so easily, he did not care about colonies and copper mines a thousand miles across the sea. And he paid for not caring with bruises like the ones he wore even now, always and only in places that his clothing might hide.
Nathalie, though, wore no bruises, and neither did the twins. He’d done what he could to protect them all the way his mother had once tried to protect him. If he were married, though, especially if he were married to someone with more money or land and he had to go live with her family, he couldn’t keep Guilford’s anger on him any longer.
It would turn on his sister, until she was found a husband - and then it would finally turn on the twins, who had never known violence and would have no one to keep them safe any longer
What if whoever was picked for his sister’s husband was cruel, too? What if his own wife turned out to be some terrible witch, like Guilford Wentworth, just with hair ribbons? He’d rather die than be married, but he knew enough about his father’s monster by now to know that it wouldn’t matter what he wanted, when the time came.
He’d want whatever he was told to want, once the monster sang its hideous song. He'd be a dutiful, loving husband, or he'd be a dutiful loving son, or he'd have his throat torn open and turn to bones in the bottom of the pond in the garden, just like his real father.
Ford closed his fingers slowly around the doorknob, turning it as quietly as he could before he gently pushed the door open so he and Nathalie could peek inside.
They had come to peek at the monster.
The awful thing looked handsome and harmless. It perched along the edge of a heavy mahogany desk, leaning against it and looking away, towards the window, one hand over its mouth. Jet-black hair fell wavy, as if it had only just dried after a swim in the ocean, over beautiful eyes and curled around its ears. Its hair was all mussed up, as if it’d been grabbed at and pulled on, but the creature didn’t seem to notice.
It looked, with the last of the sunset’s yellowed light shining on its warm brown skin, like a sort of perfectly sculptured mockery of a human man, the most beautiful one Ford had ever seen in his life. It was only a trick, of course - it was more of a demon.
Ford had seen its real face when it killed his real father, a mouth that opened too wide and was full of hideous sharp teeth.
It wore some sort of loose robe that fell off one shoulder. It was covered in embroidered flowers in white against the shining pale blue fabric and tied at the waist. Its arms were crossed in front of itself and it hunched over, just slightly. The markings like tattoos that began just under his jaw on one side disappeared into the neckline where it lay over the thing’s collarbone and then reappeared along one delicately formed wrist, running all the way into its palm and over its long, elegant fingers. One of its legs was marked, too. When Ford looked at the monster’s feet, he could see one was covered in the same markings all the way to the very end of its toes.
“It's done, for now,” The monster said to no one, its voice soft. It spoke like a melody, a rumbling bass that could just as easily soar to tenor. Ford had taken singing lessons, for a while. He was hopelessly rubbish at it.
The twins, though, were good. And the monster sang like heaven.
There was a pause.
“Done,” It repeated, dropping to a whisper. Its voice cracked and broke this time, rasping. There was a horrible sorrow and anger in the lines of its beautiful face. “For now." Its voice rasped, suddenly, went rough-edged like it was talking around something blocking its throat. "Until the next, and the next, and the next…”
When it looked to the window, towards the sunset, the light glimmered along trails of shimmering wetness that ran down its cheek. Its body shook, and it dropped its head into its hands, letting out a wretched, shuddering sob.
He’d seen this thing murder his real father, sing him into the pond in the garden and then rip out his throat and stain the water red while Ford had watched, unseen, his own hands clamped tight over his mouth beneath his wide, nearly bulging eyes. He had been screaming, desperately muffling the sound, until he’d run for his mother, and discovered that she… she wasn’t the same either, anymore.
She hadn't died for years after, but really she had been mostly dead already, as soon as his real father was.
Once the monster sang to you, he took whatever he wanted of you away, and only left what was useful for the family. Which just meant useful for Lord Wentworth, which Ford’s real father hadn't been any longer.
The monster had taken from Ford’s mother even the memory of his true father. No one had cared enough to bother to take it from Ford, or Nathalie. No one listened when they insisted their father was someone else, someone no one in the house even knew had ever existed any longer. The twins had only been babies, and they wouldn’t remember anyway.
Weeping or not, it wasn’t a person, and Ford steeled himself against how much it hurt to watch the thing cry. It might weep like a man, and look like one, but Ford had seen it kill on command.
The creature turned away toward the window, its back now to the children spying on it from the doorway. Ford and Nathalie both inhaled sharply as the robe it wore slipped a little, dipping low enough to show that it was bleeding.
Ford felt something cold and shivery-sick dip in his stomach as he saw stripes of torn-open skin smeared in a horrible too-bright red just above its shoulder blades and down its back, disappearing beneath the shining black satin, only to still show through in spots here and there that seemed to stick to its skin. The blue robe turned the blood soaking through it purple, a sickly color that made Ford think he might be sick all over the floor.
There was-
There was so much blood.
Ford’s throat suddenly felt like it might close all on its own, and he jerked in a hissed breath. He felt sick just looking at it, too bright and too red. His stomach flipped and twisted, his heart racing its way up his throat as if it might come flying out his mouth.
There was blood on the floor, spattered on the wall by the window. It looked like a murder had been done, and yet Lord Fellswooth and the monster had been alone, and only the monster wore wounds.
What had Lord Fellswooth done to it?
Fellswooth had lifted his upper lip in a sneer just looking at how dusty Ford had been when he’d returned from the afternoon ride on his favorite horse. He’d run fingers over the washbasin stand checking for specks of dust Mr. Keller and the other servants might have missed. He’d shuddered just walking in the front door when the stable boy’s wolfhound had tried to lick at his palm.
What sort of man who could be so fussy as all that could tear the monster’s back to shreds and simply leave his blood running down his body to drip to the floor as he stood by the window?
How badly must all those wounds hurt?
Not that Ford cared, or anything. It was a murderous monster creature his false father used to enthrall and get what he wanted out of everyone who came near him. It wasn’t even human, it spent almost all its time in water hiding under the surface, coming out only when Lord Wentworth summoned it. Ford didn’t care about it at all.
But…
But that didn’t mean he thought it should bleed like that.
Even monstrous animals were only animals, after all, and this might be a creature of murder but did it need to suffer for that? For someone else's fun?
The monster, standing before the window staring out at the setting sun, began to sing to itself. Unlike the song they’d heard before when it was alone with Lord Fellswooth, this song was neither strident nor even very loud - it was a private song, one it sang only for itself. Its perfect voice did not swell or even rise much. Instead, each note seemed like a sidestep to the last, a winding staircase of melody that it wrapped around itself like a kind of blanket.
Ford caught his breath, listening. He could almost hear where a harmony should be, if there had been more of those… things… singing at once. Maybe this had been a song it sang with its own family, if it had had one.
Did monsters have mothers, like men did? They must. Everything living had a mother at one point or another, didn’t it?
The song was his pain, Ford realized. Winding and circling itself, neverending, a river even monsters would drown in when they never found shore. It was the creature's way of crying, beyond human tears. It wept, by the window, in a way that stole Ford's breath and made him want to weep alongside it.
“He’s so pretty,” Nathalie breathed, just beside him, her own wide eyes shining with tears. Her voice was too loud but his own felt too caught in his throat to shush her again. “He’s so pretty, Ford, isn’t he?”
The monster’s voice cut off all at once.
It spun around to see the two children who had - without realizing it - leaned further and slid the door a little more open. Ford’s heart dropped to his knees as those fathomless dark eyes locked on his. He and Nathalie both gasped as they fell under the thing's direct regard.
“Oh, no,” He whispered. "Nathalie-"
The monster opened its mouth in a snarl as it pulled its robe so tightly around itself nearly none of its skin could be seen any longer. Ford and Nathalie both froze at the sight of row after row of razor-sharp pointed teeth as it bared them.
“Go!” It snapped, in a voice that was not human, that spoke the human tongue in a roar and with a mouth not made for it. “Go away from me! Now!"
Ford's heart was in his throat "We're-... w-we're sorry-"
"Fear the monster your father keeps more than death itself and get away from me!”
The last was a shrieking command, not a song but a singular deafening note. Ford felt himself turning before he could even breathe. The command took effortless hold and he grabbed Nathalie's hand.
Get away from me.
The children could never have done anything but obey.
They fled shouting their fear of the monster, half-falling down the stairs and racing outside until Mr. Keller, who had seen Fellswooth off, caught them in his arms. Both of them burst into tears, there, while the stableboy and the groomsman stared surreptitiously in confusion. Mr. Keller held them, and shushed them, and finally took them to the stables in the hopes that he could calm their tears before Lord Wentworth overheard.
Inside, Guilford Wentworth’s monster sagged and then sank to the floor, his knees simply giving way until they touched the rug beneath him. He bent over until his forehead brushed the fibrous cloth, and he wept again.
This time, he wept in silence.
-
Taglist: @grizzlie70 @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @theelvishcowgirl @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @bloodinkandashes @squishablesunbeam @mj-or-say10 @apokolyps @wildfaewhump @shrimpwritings @there-will-always-be-blood @latenightcupsofcoffee@angelsproject
#amow tropeathon2024#day 4#monster! monster!#monster whump#nonhuman whump#nonhuman whumpee#siren whump#captivity#child of whumper#reluctant whumper#of sorts#blood tw#referenced whipping#original writing#original fantasy#original fantasy writing#fantasy writing#original fiction#magical whumpee#bloodied#bones in the ocean
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What of the Sun?
AKA: Alecto, Gaea, and Uranus—why John Gaius is connected to Dominicus.
Special thanks to @the-sword-lesbian for inciting me with this question, and then going on to listen to all the conspiracy board rambling that ensued whilst offering up her own excellent questions:
Alecto, Gaea, and Uranus
Alecto is, as we know, named after the Fury of the same name from Greek myth whose name literally translates to ' the implacable or unceasing anger'. John, after becoming God, took the surname Gaius, the masculine form of the name Gaia.
Something notable about the Alecto of myth is her parentage: she is the daughter of Gaea (also spelt Gaia), the personification of the Earth, who was fertilised by the blood of Uranus, the personification of the sky (who was also Gaia's son and husband). Uranus' blood was spilt when his and Gaia's youngest son, Cronus, castrated and overthrew him, with the blood from his severed genitals falling upon the Earth (Gaia) and birthing Alecto in the process; Cronus is sometimes interpreted as also being Chronos, the personification of time.
Dominicus, the name John bestowed upon the resurrected Sun, has its origins explicitly stated by John. It is derived from Psalm 27:1, which he partially quotes while talking to Harrow: “The Lord is the source of my light and my safety, so whom shall I fear?”
“A myriad ago, I resurrected nine planets,” he said. “And I reignited the central star, and I called it Dominicus. As a reminder. Dominus illuminatio mea et salus mea, quem timebo? God is my light.[...]
Dominicus and Thanergetic Stars
He said, As the world went up I remade us both. I hid me in you … I hid you in me. And when we were together … once the shaman had claimed the sun … I became God. He said, It wasn’t enough. He said, The ships … the ships were still full of people. I reached our hand out into space. I extended. I struggled. He said, I bit through the sun first. It’s human nature. That started things going. Once you take down the sun, you’re cooking with gas, pardon the pun.
It’s a dark and cold and unlovely part of space, and the stars there are old and were nearly dead then. We nuked them with thanergy and now they’ll shine forever, but the light is not the same …
From the glare of the plex window, beside some perfectly ordinary white twill curtains, the buried monster turned herself so that she was lit in the light of the undead stars.
THE MITHRAEUM, THE SEAT of the First Reborn! The Sanctuary of the Emperor of the Nine Houses, the bolthole of God—the removing place of hallowed bones, and the ossuary of the steadfast! A space station hidden forty billion light-years from the ever-burning light of Dominicus, lit by thanergetic starlight, set in the midst of the circumstellar disc, an ancient jewel within so much dead gravel.
As we see from the above, stars are implicitly naturally thalergetic in character, and through necromantic intervention (nuked them with thanergy) can be rendered thanergetic: undead and everburning, emitting thanergetic starlight. Curiously, nuked them with thanergy is eerily close to how flipping a planet is described by Harrow:
You drove the point of the bone-sheathed blade into the talc—obviously you never wanted it to have an edge of any kind, ever again—and using the sword as your focus, drove a killing lance of thanergy right into the planet’s heart. The planet did not quake, or howl, or freeze, or writhe, skewered on your necromancy’s tines. You began the cascade outward, as you had been taught. A wide thanergetic scythe sheared out into the mantle, deeper into the minute thalergy of the rock, into the solid stone’s buried recollections of the day its ball of dust was formed.
Flipping a planet involves focusing thanergy into a killing implement that is driven into the planet's heart, its soul, inducing a cascading thalergy-thanergy reaction that fuels itself, thanergy decaying thalergy into more thanergy and burning through it:
The thanergy scoured through the soul like a lit taper touched to flimsy. The living flush of this rocky outcrop began to die in dizzying, concentric rings: flipping, the thanergy feeding on the thalergy as locusts fed on wheat. As the soul tore away, an extra thanergetic bloom fanned the fire of what you had already done.
Planets, as we are told in Harrow the Ninth, have souls: a communal soul, arising from the thalergetic complexity of the microbial life present on them much in the same way a human's soul emerges from the thalergetic complexity of its internal microbial life.
“And what has a soul?” “Anything with a thalergetic complexity significant enough to … have a soul. So, humanity.” [...] “A planet’s a ball of dust. Its thalergy comes from the accumulation of microbial life. You can’t consider it one coherent system.” “Call it a communal soul,” said her Emperor. “What’s a human being, other than a sack of microbial life?
This explanation has always reminded me of how the human body is explained in terms of a hierarchy of organisation and complexity: the lowest unit is the cell, cells come together to form tissues, tissues form organs, organs form organ systems, and the sum total of these connected systems is the human body. The soul, then, is implicitly the organisational level above the body: the body is the tissue, the soul is the organ; it is shown by Anastasia's tripod principle that the soul indeed plays a vital part in the functioning of the body:
“There was a bad option where your soul snapped straight into her body, leaving your body stuck with no soul at all, and that would have been a shit time all round.” “Would I have died?” Nona asked, interested. “You’d have tried to,” said Pyrrha. “The body needs thalergy and a soul to keep the lights on. Anastasia’s tripod principle. Body plus thalergy, but no soul, is basically a very weird vegetable … after a while it gives up and shuts down.”
Without a soul, the biological processes cease and the body shuts down; thalergy, in the absence of a soul, decays into thanergy. Flipping a thalergetic planet involves thanergetically disrupting its soul to induce a cascading thanergetic reaction. Thalergetic stars 'nuked' with thanergy become undead, ever-shining, thanergetic: they are flipped.
Stars have souls. Dominicus has a soul.
Why John Gaius is connected to Dominicus
You said, “So if you die, the Houses die with you. The star warming our system fails, and—becomes a gravitational well, as I understand it?” “Yes. A black hole, like the one that took out Cyrus,”
The Sun would need to be about 20 times more massive to end its life as a black hole. Stars that are born this size or larger can explode into a supernova at the end of their lifetimes before collapsing back into a black hole, an object with a gravitational pull so strong that nothing, not even light, can escape. Ergo, the black hole part is a load of bullshit—but, you know, necromancy; the important part of that quote is that John claims that when he dies, Dominicus dies with him.
When Mercymorn tries, and fails, to kill John, Dominicus falters and does indeed begin to undergo a collapse: John's 'death' somehow affects Dominicus from all this distance away, and him coming back results in it stabilising again.
“Right,” he said, and closed his eyes briefly. Then he said, “The sun has stabilized. Hope the Sixth House didn’t get cooked in the flare.”
John says that he reignited the Sun, yes, but I think it goes deeper than just that: I think John put more than just Earth in Alecto's body, and more than just his soul in Alecto's.
Anastasia's tripod principle stipulates that a body with thalergy and no soul shuts down—Dominicus undergoes collapse when John's body is destroyed by Mercymorn, when his soul is decoupled from its material tether—John's soul is the Sun's soul.
“Once the shaman had claimed the sun … I became God.”
The soul of a planet is communal, composed of the sum total of the life present on it: John killed the life upon Earth by inciting a global nuclear war, then killing those humans who were spared the fate of atomic fire. He had to kill the world to put his hands around her throat. He became God by eating her, by hiding him in her, and her in him—the shaman claimed the sun.
He said, I bit through the sun first.
Alecto was born from the blood of Uranus being spilt upon Gaia by their son Cronus; Uranus is the personification of the sky, the husband and son of Gaia. John took the name Gaius when he reignited the Sun, after spilling its blood upon the Earth and creating Alecto: he became one with Gaia, tied his soul to hers and to the sun's.
The Mithraeum is 'a space station hidden forty billion light-years from the ever-burning light of Dominicus, lit by thanergetic starlight'. The ever-burning light of Dominicus contrasted by thanergetic starlight. Immortal, but alive.
“The eyes have it, John.”
He approached her, and she saw that his sclera were black as space. The irises were dark and leadenly iridescent—a deep rainbow oil slick, ringed with white. The pupils were as glossy black as the sclera.
The Emperor of the Nine Houses drummed his fingers over his belt. It still hurt you a little, to look into his terrible eyes: the irises like black shadows of the Canaanite white, that iridescent absence of colour, a shade rather than a tint; the purity of the white ring; then the matte black of the sclera. “A myriad ago, I resurrected nine planets,” he said. “And I reignited the central star, and I called it Dominicus[...]
You could study him without shyness: the shining iridescence of his irises, the unyielding black of the cornea and pupil, the long, square, urbane face.
And his eyes were just absolutely, insanely fucked up: deep black wells, this unreflective flat black. Even from where I was, I could see the white light that circled the irises: a cold, flickering perimeter.
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wot rewatch (book spoilers edition): 2x1
And here is the very spoiler-filled follow-up to my earlier post!
Not only is this one going to have spoilers for all the aired episodes plus any teasers, it will also have book spoilers through book 11: The Gathering Storm.
Thinking of the Darkfriend Social in terms of spoilers -- the x-ray notes that the 'location' for the scene is Tel'aran'rhoid. What does that mean for the little girl? Hmm.
2. I also wonder if this scene isn't set a little earlier than the rest of the episodes are set. We know that by the end of this episode, it's been a full year since 1x1, because Bel Tine has rolled around again. Other things that this being in TAR could mean: that the fallen seal is symbolic rather than reflecting reality and is a representation of the fact that Ishamael has been released from his prison.
3. Darkfriend roll call! We've got Fain, who is still a member in good standing (has not yet killed a Fade); we've got Lord Ingtar; we've got High Lady Suroth; we've got at least two Black Ajah sisters (Sheriam and Liandrin? One of them is wearing a black dress and one is wearing a red one, I think); we've got Unnamed Tuatha'an Mom; we've got a Whitecloak (probably Carridin). I'm not 100% on anyone else at the table. I'm pretty sure our main characters are basically surrounded by Darkfriends right now in their various storylines!
4. The storyline of Moirine fighting her depression over not being able to touch the One Power by forcing herself to have a sense of purpose each day and not give up to the despair... it really does show how poorly served the male channelers are by the Tower. After they get gentled, they get shoved into prison, basically, but the White Tower knows that a sense of purpose is what makes severed (or, in Moiraine's case, probably shielded) channelers have the will to keep living. And that gets denied to the men who are gentled.
5. Verin being merged with Vandene feels like a perfect example of a merged character -- the much more important character is plucking bits and pieces from the minor character and folding them into her characterization. It does really make me wonder how the future is going to go down, though! Will Verin be ordered to kill her own sister and feel like she has to do it in order to maintain her cover? Also: I wonder how much of the reason why Tomas 'picked' Verin over Adeleas had to do with him being a repentant Darkfriend and Verin finding out about it. Also, in our first major storyline, we have two Darkfriends interacting with main characters. Total count so far: 2.
Both the Verin/Vandene merger and the Elyas/Hurin merger should be, I think, our hints as to how the show is handling mergers and it's roughly what I would expect: the more important character swallows up the more minor character. This is why I don't think Liandrin & Elaida would be merged, because Elaida is a more important character than Liandrin, so 'Elaida' is what the merged character would have been named imo.
6. Haha I can't believe that I got so caught up in everything else that I didn't even mention Doman in my first impressions post! I loved his scenes. I think they did a good job giving him a purpose that suited what he does in the books, and he also delivers key plot info to Moiraine. Given that he calls the broken piece part of a 'moondial', I'm guessing he found part of Lanfear's seal (and he's being chased by the Shadow to recover the prophecy that he sells here to Moiraine, maybe?). I suspect that the poem is the Dark Prophecy, which means that we've already got a way for Rand to find out that he needs to go to Falme/Toman Head and he may even go there having zero idea that his friends are in trouble there (which makes sense since he's already in 'stay away from them to protect them' mode; either way would make sense to me, so I'm just curious what road the show takes).
But if Doman takes Moiraine's advice, he might be sailing right into the Seanchan's arms.
7. Egwene taking a moment to look at the official Amrylin outfit. I See You, foreshadowing. I See You. And as much as it pained me not to get my girl Elayne in the first episode, I do think it was a good idea for us to focus on Elayne and Nynaeve as they are before we get our third Wondergirl added to the mix.
8. Given that both Nynaeve and Egwene have learned about The Wonders of Poly (That Are Not For Them, Personally), I wonder if that means that we're going to get them finding out about Rand's polycule situation over the course of the series (maybe as someone for Elayne to talk to?) but in a more gradual and natural way. Also, I noticed a handful of novices watching the sparring down there, but we don't get to see the faces of the people sparring -- could one of them be a Certain Someone?
9. Haha, it's kinda weird seeing Nynaeve as a novice given that she spent zero time as one in the books. But this scene with her was a perfect illustration of why she makes a terrible novice, lol. She's perfect, but she's also a terrible novice. But also, the show is continuing to build up the characters' toolkits for the future - last season, Rand watched Moiraine pull the corruption of Shadar Logoth from Rand and this season, Nynaeve is learning how to purify water (and the Power is often compared to water/rivers). It does also point to the cleansing being more of an actual team-up instead of just Nynaeve being Rand's battery.
10. Poor Alanna is surrounded by Darkfriends in this next scene. We have Liandrin, Sheriam, and Joiya (literally every speaking character apart from Alanna is a Darkfriend in this scene, lol RIP). Total Darkfriends hanging out in main character plotlines: 5. If the show has preserved the 'heart' format from the books, it's entirely possible that none of them actually know that they're hanging out with other Black Ajah Sisters right now, too. Were Liandrin and Sheriam working together or are they both working under their own interpretations of their orders but don't know the other one is also Black Ajah? Given the way Joiya backed up Liandrin in this scene, I suspect that they may know about each other.
The show has done such a good job making Alanna understandable, empathetic, and charming. But she also has already shown herself not to be great at... appropriate boundaries.
11. We don't get much time with Uno before, well, Future Events, but the show did a good job painting his character very vividly, and using him to show the comradery that has built up between Perrin and Loial.
12. So I did a little post mentioning it but the girl who runs away while Fain is killing the other girl! I think that's the girl from the Darkfriend social scene! She looks like she's wearing the right outfit and is the right age with the right color hair. "There was a child who made it out." Her entire family (except her Darkfriend mom?) was slaughtered by Fain and his Trollocs. I wonder if we'll see her again. Hmm, actually, if Fain attacked a Tuatha'an caravan that he knew had a Darkfriend in it, was this his first move of going against the Dark One's/Ishamael's wishes?
13. Now that we're in Perrin's plotline, time to mention that Lord Ingtar, who doesn't want to hear Uno go on about how evil the traitor soldier was, is also a Darkfriend. Total Darkfriends surrounding our main characters: 6.
14. They did a good job in hitting all the main points of the actual Hunt for the Horn, tbh. In the first two episodes, we've got Perrin using his heightened senses, we've got the abandoned village and the room of flies, we've got the Fade nailed up that imo shows the moment when Fain stopped taking orders from the Dark One/Ishamael, and we've got Ingtar bonding with one of the main characters. And Rand's 'pushing people away' arc was pretty well covered with him faking his death. And Mat Suffering Terribly is also covered, lol.
15. I do feel like what Alanna tells Egwene here about poly relationships is probably something the show is going to lean into once Rand's situation starts rolling. "things are messy before they are perfect; nothing worthwhile is neat and tidy". Them leaning so much into Alanna's relationship is definitely giving me some good reassurances about poly plans for the future, because they're investing a relatively large amount of time into showing that this is a valid type of relationship to have, and explaining it to the audience.
16. Per Fain, the Darkfriends do know that 'all five' ta'veren will be important and will matter to how things go down with the Last Battle, so I feel like Liandrin trying to cultivate Nynaeve makes a lot of sense in that case. She wants to take Nynaeve under her wing to turn her to her point of view and her side. It's actually interesting to compare and contrast what Moiraine knew vs the Dark One, because they were actually pretty close in their timelines of figuring out when the Two Rivers was the hot spot.
17. I feel like it really works to give Siuan's scene to Liandrin here, in training Nynaeve. The Two Rivers folk are more vulnerable and more 'exposed' in the show than in the books. So it makes a lot of sense to me. It also feels like they are leaning into the idea that not all Aes Sedai have to 'surrender' in order to channel (so women don't always need to submit and men don't always need to dominate, per Jordan's canon), which is a change that I like.
18. And the Perrin and Ingtar stuff is also working really well for me. I think it helps his character a lot to have him be the one who is going through this with Ingtar instead of Rand (who has plenty going on already). And Ingtar! "Perhaps Padan Fain had a reason for doing what he did."
19. Moiraine's platonic breakup with Lan feels a lot more grounded in the show than it was in the books imo.
20. The letter! Oh, gosh it's so beautiful. It does feel like a little promise from the show that they aren't going to forget about the EF5 bond, and I'm hoping that we'll get more moments of reconnection than we got from the books.
21. So, what are everyone's thoughts on if what Liandrin tells Mat about the letters ("not a single mention of Mat Cauthon") counts as a lie and our confirmation that she's already Black Ajah or was it a wiggle around the truth (either going by the logic of there being multiple mentions of Mat and/or SHE didn't mention Mat and or well it doesn't ever say Cauthon)? I mean, she also seems to be keeping him as her completely isolated little secret. I feel like it's a Black Ajah clue but maybe there's wiggle room.
22. Mat also seems VERY aware that Moiraine is partly responsible for his current circumstances (he notes her along with Liandrin when he's saying he's not a danger to anyone). Liandrin probably read him the note that Lady Amalisa sent from Fal Dara. The show is doing such a better job of actually establishing Mat's motives for various ways he behaves than the books did -- in the books, he seemed to take against Aes Sedai for the terrible crime of... healing him? But selling him out to someone who has kept him locked up for six months and who spent that time psychologically torturing him is an EXCELLENT reason for him to feel wary about being around Aes Sedai. He's seen the worst of them! Because it's not just Liandrin and the Reds. It's Moiraine too!
And they did this in s1 too, giving Mat actual reasons for his canon-typical behavior by changing his background to one more fraught with tension.
#butterfly watches wot#wot#wheel of time#wot on prime#wot show spoilers#wot prime spoilers#wot 2x1 spoilers#wot s2 spoilers#wheel of time s2 spoilers#wot book spoilers#the gathering storm
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CONSIDER THE FOLLOWING: why was i not following you D:
fortunately, I have remedied this situation. worry not. Now use this ask as an opportunity to dump literally anything that's on your mind :3
(grabs this) CASHING IN ON THIS TO RANT ABOUT DESIGN DETAILS
This is me looking through the character refs and pointing at all the little things I apparently did while drawing them because DAMN putting some of these side by side puts things in perspective.
This gonna be a LONG ONE boys, and very much just an analysis of design details. Very skippable read dw.
HEART
okok the one that kickstarted a LOT of my mutuals interest, its Heart!
...I don't have much to say about him asdkjsdf literally what is on the tin. Goes directly from happy little mischievous goober to unconscious, injured, and missing wings. Even the clothes change has an in-universe medical reason, being that they want to keep an eye on the blackened limbs. (and post-Apathy he looks SO SMALL AND FRAIL SOMEHOW oughhh)
The MAIN THING is that pre-ROE is a proper character reference with details and stuff, while post-Apathy is completely stripped of all character that he had. Completely. Its not a character reference, its just a reference.
THE THING I THOUGHT PEOPLE WOULD NOTICE. AND COMMENT ON THOUGH. IS THE NAME TAG I USED FOR HIM
Notice anything different about the name tag? Besides the timeline event?
THE HEART SYMBOL. I changed it from a cutesy drawn emoticon heart to an anatomically correct heart, to represent his change to being only the Physical Beating Heart.
The other thing being that post-Apathy is SIGNIFICANTLY DARKER in colour. There's still purple in it, but its dark and looks a lot less lively than the bright purplish-pink of pre-ROE. (I actually just blended a lot of black in so the purple is still sorta there)
OH and a design detail that I love about Heart's clothes. The EKG heartbeat on his clothes.
A subtle little nod to him being both the Emotional Side and also the Beating Heart.
MIND/PERSEVERANCE
Alright gonna start with again the thing I'm surprised no one commented on. The name tags. Really, there's only one thing here that's important (other than the fact that he changes his name)
Heart's blindfold. It tangles around him and is a reminder of who he is doing everything for. Even in his name the reminder and guilt lingers.
Onto the Mind!
I drew him in an open pose, looking lowkey like how my lecturers do when they're teaching. He's stood straight, dressed cleanly, and has a blazer on. It's hard to tell and I forgot to mention it, but his shirt is tucked in here. Very prim and proper, yet also a little relaxed with his hair down. You could even imagine him scolding Heart here that's what he looks like.
The Axon Dendrites I put on his shoulders are meant to call back to his roles as the Logical Side and the Physical Thinking Mind.
In contrast, Perseverance.
He is TIRED and STRESSED. He has eyebags now, and one hand is holding his temples (I literally hold my head like that when I'm stressed). The stress comes through in how he's undressed compared to his Mind reference. He's not wearing his jacket, and his shirt is untucked now. In the reference I also mentioned that his arms are slowly beginning to rust. Despite the state of undress, he's got his hair up. He's stopped taking care of himself and it is obvious in his stance. The fact that he isn't even looking up anymore, but looking down instead also sells this.
ALSO. Elements of Heart's colours being added to his design. Purple and white.
SOUL/PENITENCE
ough my babygirl. Starting with the name tags again, although this one isn't nearly as symbolic.
Other than a name change, I added a tiny little heart <3. Caring for Heart becomes central to him. (fun fact: initially I had the heart on the tines of the trident, but that just felt too mean) OH and the underline is his trident instead :D
Onto the Soul!
Pre-ROE is just so full of LIFE. He stands openly, his pose is open, you can see all of him. He's covered in color and little personal additions like a starred shirt, dyed clothes, charms, bracelets, and shoelaces. He's happily wearing a skirt. He's got short sleeves and rolled up pants, no fear or need to cover up.
Although... he does have his HMS charms on a chain. Interesting choice, a chain. Almost like he is chained by the dynamic of HMS and the loops-
Anyways, Penitence ref! Again, tws for graphic injury
And he's closed off. Literally, his entire pose is hunching inwards and closed. He's unrolled his pants and is wearing a hoodie that covers his entire arms length. He's closed himself off.
Design elements wise he's wearing Heart's hoodie. It consumes his entire identity. Just the barest hint of his original red colour scheme peeks through at the bottom.
And the chains. There's two now, one around his neck and one at his waist, holding the symbols of HMSW. Soul/Penitence is literally chained by responsibility, both before and after Heartless events begin.
And now for something else about the references that I did which is only obvious is you had them side by side.
Pre-ROE, Heart stands on the left while Mind and Soul stand on the right. Soul is even facing the right side of the screen. It foreshadows in incoming split that happens during Heartless.
Post-Apathy, Perseverance and Penitence continue facing away from each other, despite being on the same side of the screen. This is something I didn't share much yet but it foreshadows a future rift that they will have, as well as the fact that they aren't really improving from who they were pre-roe yet.
Heartless only improves when they ALL change for the better.
#reply#rambles#Heartless AU#Heartless stuff#rand.art#rand.hc#rand.writ#THANKS FOR THE FREE CARD TO RANT#this has been on my brain for AGES#especially cause I missed some things early on from before Heartless was more developed#and theres stuff no one talked about so I WILL DAMMIT
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The Infamous Stringdusters & Leftover Salmon w/ The Kitchen Dwellers Live at The Eastern
On December 5th, 2023, Leftover Salmon announced via their social media channels that they would join their good pals The Infamous Stringdusters with special guests The Kitchen Dwellers during two very special shows: April 25th, 2024 at The Eastern in Atlanta, GA. and April 26th, 2024 at The Ryman Auditorium in Nashville, TN. Lucky for this Concerthopper, Atlanta made the cut on this special two-date throw-down with Leftover Salmon, The Infamous Stringdusters, and The Kitchen Dwellers. I know that I may cover a lot of metal bands for Concerthopper because that is what I grew up listening to. But bluegrass/Americana was also mixed in there for good measure as I was growing up.
Staring the night off, The Kitchen Dwellers made a statement with a phenomenal set chock full of some of the best hits from their discography. The Kitchen Dwellers are a progressive bluegrass/jam grass/Galaxy Grass band based out of Bozeman, MT. that has been active since 2010. Currently, The Kitchen Dwellers consists of Torrin Daniels (banjo), Shawn Swain (mandolin), Joe Funk (upright bass), and Max Davies (acoustic guitar). They have released five (5) LPs with Seven Devils being the most current release. I first saw The Kitchen Dwellers last year at Hulaween and fell in love with their sound.
Their style of Galaxy Grass is psychedelic bluegrass mixed with a progressive bluegrass style that always equals a great time. And this evening at The Eastern was no exception as I saw everyone dancing and singing along to The Kitchen Dwellers’ epic performance. If you are a bluegrass/Americana music fan, I recommend you check out The Kitchen Dwellers and listen to them as soon as possible.
Check out The Kitchen Dwellers’ setlist from The Eastern (04/25/2024) below:
· “Smokestack”>
· “Pendulum”
· “June Apple”
· “Wind Bitten”
· “Drop Tine”>
· “Drowning (…Again)”
· “New Horizons”
Check out their latest album plus more at The Kitchen Dweller’s Official Bandcamp page today! You can also catch The Kitchen Dwellers on tour in 2024 by following this link to their tour page.
I.C.Y.M.I. You can also check out Chris Griffy’s review of The Kitchen Dwellers' latest LP, Seven Devils, exclusively published by Concerthopper.com.
Leftover Salmon is a progressive bluegrass/jam band/Zydeco/country band from Boulder, CO. formed in 1989. Leftover Salmon consists of Vince Herman (vocals/guitar/washboard), Drew Emmitt (vocals/mandolin/fiddle/electric guitar), Greg Garrison (vocals/bass), Andy Thorn (banjo/electric banjo/vocals), Alwyn Robinson (drums/vocals), and Jay Sterling (keyboard/dobro). Herman and Emmitt are founding members of Leftover Salmon and have also played together in another band named Left Hand String Band. Leftover Salmon has released ten (10) LPs, one (1) Live album, and one (1) compilation with their latest release entitled Grass Roots (released May 19, 2023).
The crowd let Leftover Salmon know how excited they were as soon as the band took the stage with a ferocious cheer. I put Leftover Salmon up there with the likes of The String Cheese Incident and Greensky Bluegrass regarding how well they jam during their performances. They have been on my rotation for ages now and I do not see them getting removed anytime soon. Especially after getting to witness Leftover Salmon cover not one but two of my favorite artists: George Michael and The Allman Brothers Band.
The crowd was eager to join in as Leftover Salmon performed a flawless cover of “Freedom ’90” by the late George Michael. I am not going to lie, I was also part of the eager crowd ready to join in on the fun being had by the band. Also, Leftover Salmon performed a tribute for the late Dickey Betts by performing “Sweet Melissa”. Seeing Leftover Salmon smile and laugh while they performed their set makes my heart happy because I know that they are just as jovial as we are standing in the crowd. Artists who care about the music and show it while on stage are something that you do not see every day. And when you do, those are the artists that stick with you as you continue this journey, we call life.
Check out this amazing setlist from Leftover Salmon at The Eastern (04/25/2024) in Atlanta, GA.
· “Boogie Grass Band”
· “Liza”
· “Doin’ My Time”
· “Brand New God”
· “Something Higher”
· “Freedom ‘90” (George Michael cover)
· “Georgie Lou”
· “Bird Call”
· “Sweet Melissa” (Allman Brothers Band cover)
· “Hobo Song”
· “Dance on Yer Head”
· “Two Highways”
· “Better”
Head over to Leftover Salmon’s Official Bandcamp page today and show them some support! Leftover Salmon has plenty of tour dates scheduled in 2024 so you still have a chance to catch them playing near you.
The Infamous Stringdusters is a Grammy award-winning progressive bluegrass/folk/country/jam band from Nashville, TN that first appeared back in 2006. The Infamous Stringdusters consists of Andy Hall (dobro), Andy Falco (guitar), Chris Pandolfi (banjo), Jeremy Garrett (fiddle), and Travis Book (double bass). They have released thirteen (13) LPs, four (4) EPs, one (1) Live album, and several singles over the years. Their latest release is entitled A Tribute to Flatt & Scruggs and is a fitting tribute to the kings of bluegrass music Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs.
Closing out the evening, The Infamous Stringdusters came on stage to the crowd's roar at The Eastern this Thursday evening. After being warmed up by both The Kitchen Dwellers and Leftover Salmon, you could see the pure joy in the crowd’s faces as The Infamous Stringdusters began their set. Their electrifying setlist covered songs from their nearly two-decade storied career and even a few exciting covers to close the night. I can only imagine the fun and excitement the good folks attending the following night’s event at The Ryman felt seeing this incredible display of musicianship by all three bands.
You can see The Infamous Stringdusters’ setlist from The Eastern (04/25/2024) below:
· “Long Lonesome Day”
· “Hillbillies”
· “I Didn’t Know”
· “Wings Upon Our Feet”
· “Colorado”
· “Will You Be Lonesome Too?”
· “Night on the River”
· “Well, Well”
· “He’s Gone”
· “Polka on a Banjo” (Lester Flatt & Earl Scruggs & The Foggy Mountain Boys cover)
· “2001”
· “Blockygrass”
· “I Think I’ll Just Stay Here and Drink” (Merle Haggard cover)
Encore:
· “9 Pound Hammer” (w/ Drew Emmitt, Andy Thorn, and Max Davies) (Traditional Americana cover)
Follow this link to The Infamous Stringduster’s Official Bandcamp page today and check them out! You still have an opportunity to catch The Infamous Stringdusters on tour in 2024 so check out their scheduled tour dates today! I.C.Y.M.I. - You can also see previously published reviews exclusively on Concerthopper featuring both Leftover Salmon and The Infamous Stringdusters: Papa Joe’s Banjo-B-Que (2019) & Papa Joe’s Banjo-B-Que (2022).
Curious about Concerthopper? You can find more music-related articles, interviews, various photo galleries, indie music reviews, our ‘Bars & Bites’ section, our exclusive “She Said, She Said” column, or become a Concerthopper at www.concerthopper.com. Sign up for our monthly newsletter by following this link: The Setlist! Please ‘Like’ our page on Facebook and follow us on Instagram to stay up to date in 2023, on all music-related events/festivals such as Tour of the Valedores: John Garcia Live at The Masquerade, High on Fire: Live at The Senate (Columbia), Shoot For The Moon Tour: Sierra Ferrell Live at The Eastern, Seasons World Tour 2024: Thirty Seconds to Mars & AFI Live at MidFlorida Credit Union Amphitheatre, Mr. Bungle: Live at The Tabernacle, Ashes of Leviathan Tour: Mastodon & Lamb of God @ Ameris Bank Amphitheatre, An Evening with Goose (Night 3) @ The Fox Theatre (Atlanta), Least Anticipated Album Tour: A Day To Remember @ Outer Harbor Live at Terminal B, S.E.R.P.E.N.T. Festival w/ SLASH, Larkin Poe, ZZ Ward, and Robert Randolph – Live @ The Orion Amphitheater (Huntsville), Doyle & Otep Live at The Ranch (Ft. Myers), Weedeater w/ Telekinetic Yeti & Restless Spirit: Live @ Grantski Records, Blackout Tour Pt. 2: From Ashes to New Live @ Water Street Music Hall (Rochester), Is For Lovers Tour (Fox Summer Stage), We Legalized It 2024: Cypress Hill, The Pharcyde, & Souls of Mischief: Live at Tabernacle, King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard: Live at The Fox Theatre (Atlanta), The Godmode Tour: In This Moment Live @ Landmark Theatre (Syracuse), Hawthrone Heights: 20 Years of Tears Tour (Sound @ Coachman Park), Catalyst 20 Years Later - New Found Glory: Live at Buffalo Riverworks, Underoath “They’re Only Chasing Safety” 20th Anniversary Tour: Live at Buffalo Riverworks, and Pallbearer w/ Rwake & The Keening @ The Masquerade (Atlanta) by following us on all social media formats: Concerthopper on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. You can also follow my concert hopping on Facebook and Instagram.
#2024#concert photography#Concert#concert review#Concerthopper#Review#bluegrass#Jam#jamgrass#alt country#Country#Atlanta#georgia#the eastern
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"Liam?" Her head jumps a little on Liam's chest as she asks the question, the movement of her jaw lifting her up and placing her back down again when she goes quiet. Even just with her neck turned to her side, her head resting on his chest, mundane and simple as this, comes with a firm and steady weight that serves as a reminder to what she is, what her body has been shaped by the seafoam for. If he needed to breathe, Miranda could have surely pressed it from him without much effort.
Her crown towers above them both, tines stretched out to devour the sky and all the stars, sitting atop the pink princess, who cares not for these things, and who busies herself with nudging her head up against Liam's chin.
Miranda's tongue eventually flicks out, the double tips first only briefly darting over his skin, disturbing hairs and little more. Then, it touches him, the texture smooth and only distantly textured, bumps stretched out into hills, tastebuds like scales. Her tongue is slick, wet, evoking things from beneath, the low things that burrow through the silt and the marine snow and wither in the light of the sun. The dual tips move in tandem, both excising distinct muscular control, removed from the other and yet working in the same part. She darts a few times over, only briefly brushing up against his lips once, before some shyness takes her, and she tilts her head to press her nose down and against his collarbone again.
Miranda, still dwelling, finally continues her question, speaking again to Liam's neck.
"Do you... Do you ever miss it? Being human, I mean?"
the weight of miranda was welcomed.
her leaning on his body, enough if it dared to squeeze the wind out of him, was comforting, something he'd grown accustomed too even before they made things official. just as used to the sensation of the tongue against his skin.
the tickle of the slight hairs on his skin made some shivers, nothing that caused a full physical reaction, before the tongue touched his skin. liam scrolled idly though his phone, giving a little hum to acknowledge to the princess that he'd heard her call his name.
head tilted in the silence, a factor to cause the tongue to brush his lips, only to return to some sense of shyness. it quirked his lips momentarily, upwards in an amused smile towards her.
the question hung in the air, heavy and on liam's mind.
liam's finger twitched, his chest rose in a mock suck in of air that he didn't need, the weight of someone else causing it exhale as soon as it settled in his lungs.
"sometimes," he raised his hand, pulled his glasses from his face to clean them off. holding the square frames in his hand. a centuries old prescription that he didn't need when he'd been human. "now that i've lived for a while."
being a vampire, at first, had been quite thrilling. a sexy beast of the night, a dangerous predator that gave him power, anyone would want to seek that. even if the method of turning could be unpleasant. "i don't miss the life i had, when i was human. i mostly miss the concept of being mortal, to be able to live a full life without constantly having to find new things to occupy the mind and keep things interesting for myself as the time shells on."
his hands pushed the glasses back onto his face, blinking as to adjust to the new, clear world around him, as his hand moved to brush along miranda's back. "why do you ask, dear miranda?"
#royalreef#『 statement submission — ask#『 fangs & filters — liam de lioncourt#『 the rhythm of this trembling heart is beating like a drum — liam x miranda ( royalreef )#liam only thinks it with modern world tech#now this is a topic i definitely wanna explore on more#vampires n immortality n the length of one's life is something i think about often#especially for liam
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The minute Clint was back on his feet, Harold dug his fist into his sons stomach, filled with rage. "Barney always had to protect you little punk. To weak to stand up for yourself. You can't even bear to look at me now. Know your place, boy."
Stay down, it repeated in his head over and over before he’d made the decision that this time he wasn’t going to, this time he wasn’t going to give in that easily. He’d heard it in drunken slurs enough in his youth, he’d learned to take the beating, bow down to the man that held the power. Stay down, Clint. He’d heard it in his brothers tone whose face he can see even now, remembered how Barney would step in front of a bruised and bleeding Clint and tell him to stay down. But this tine he doesn’t do what he was supposed to, doesn’t let the ground pull him further down, doesn’t let his other knee fall, no, he pushed up and knew the second he defied the man that Harold wouldn’t like it, wouldn’t accept it.
Another blow, another strike that the trained assassin doesn’t block, another blow that results in a clear resounding sound as it makes contact, a blow that he won’t let push him down even if he falters back for a minute, he can take a hit, they both know that. But it’s the fact he keeps bringing Barney back into it.
Barney is a delicate subject for Clint, he loves his brother, he does, even if all those years ago Chisholm had made him shoot said bother, even if he still regrets it. He was his brother, his savior for a lot of his life.
Blue eyes stay down, but at his side his hands ball into fist, fingernails digging into the flesh as if telling himself he can’t do this, he shouldn’t do this, he’s been conditioned his whole childhood not to do this. But the last sentence he looks at him, eyes full of pain both mental and physical glare daggers at the other man. “Know your place!" He snapped back this time, "and don’t...." He pauses as if having to work up the strength to say it to the man, "don’t fucking say his name again.”
That’s it Clint, get angry, fight back if not for yourself, for your brother.
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Atheist & Christian Book Club with Dr. Bart Ehrman October 2021
COMMENTARY”
The organizing principle of Bart Ehrman's biography is his need to be popular. His original 'Born Again" impulse in high school was to part of the in-crowd of the rise of the evangelical phenomena of the cultural revolution of the 60s. I was first confronted by the Total Depravity Gospel of Campus Crusade for Christ in 1966 and, by 1972, when Bart would have been 17, the Jesus movement was at full tine, which Jesus Christ, Super on Broadway and Godspell hitting the dinner theater circuit and the promise of divine ecstasy providing a safe but attratctive substitute for the drug, sex and rock-n-roll of the counter culture and Bart wanted to be part of it and proclaimed a "born Again' experience of some sort.
T his credit, he stuck with the his fervor as a career choice in his education and employment until he got to Princeton Theological Seminary, where he got his PhD and became friends with Dale Martin, whose alternative life style began to corrode his need for evangelical orthodoxy. until at some point at Chapel Hill, he discovered how much more fun and profitable apostasy was than being Born Again and has doubled down on the Post Modern Historical Deconstruction of the question authority trope of the counter culture and bet the ranch of the dialectical Marxism of conventional wisdom in the American university system since the take=over of Columbia University by the Students for an Democratic Society, who over turned all things Eisenhower with the contrarian conceits that Christopher Hitchens and H. Rap Borwn popularized.
And Misquoting Jesus brought him exactly the wealth and popularity he craves. He loves being popular. Notice how he giggles throughout any interview so long as the dialogue proceeds along the lines of his various heresies but how truculent and defensive when challenged at the base of any of his assumptions, which he bobs and weaves to disavow while sustaining the arc of his argument. He's a theological flim falm man and conjurer who only lacks a comely assistant in a Haren Girl outfit out of I dream of Jeanie to distract the audience when the dialogue takes a disadvantageous turn.
Here's the thing about the dialectical Marxism of his basic Post Modern Historical Deconstruction: it is designed to de-harmonize ANY narrative in order to expose the flaws and fallacies and discontinuities of the gestalt. Fore example, the deconstruction of To Kill Mockingbird focuses on the fact that her name was Jean Louise and not Scout, so her testimony is unreliable and the entire narrative must needs be discarded as historically irrelevant.
And that principle, applied to Jesus, has made Bart Ehrman hugely popular with the evangelical antitheist markets and wealthy as well, What's not to like?
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Macky Sall, Senegal’s Leader, Says He Won’t Run for Third Term
President Macky Sall of Senegal said on Monday that he would not seek a third term in office, putting an end to months of tensions over a hypothetical candidacy that many say would have violated the West African nation’s Constitution.“My dear fellow citizens, my decision after long consideration is to not be a candidate in the election on Feb. 25, 2024,” Mr. Sall said in a televised address. “My 2019 term was my second and last term.”Mr. Sall’s speech came a month after at least 16 people died in government protests that were fueled, in part, by his refusal to say whether he would run for a third term next year.Thousands of demonstrators, most of them young, had taken to the streets to protest against what they saw as an authoritarian drift from Mr. Sall’s government, and against the conviction of his main political opponent, Ousmane Sonko, on charges that his supporters said had been an attempt to sideline him.The violence, reminiscent of deadly protests in 2021, raised concerns among the Senegalese public and international observers that Senegal was no longer the beacon of political pluralism and stability it had long been regarded as in a region known for its frequent coups and aging leaders clinging to power.That made Mr. Sall’s announcement all the more welcome to many.“A time bomb was just deactivated,” Alioune Tine, a renowned Senegalese human rights figure, said about Mr. Sall’s renouncement. “It’s a huge relief for Senegal and the African continent.”Mr. Sall’s decision not to run was unusual for West and Central Africa, where some leaders have in recent years curbed their countries’ laws to stay in power.In 2021, President Alassane Ouattara of Ivory Coast was elected for a third term despite a constitutional rule limiting presidents to two. In the Central African Republic, President Faustin-Archange Touadéra is also seeking a third term through a constitutional referendum scheduled this month.Senegal, which has never experienced a coup since gaining independence from France in 1960, considers itself a model of democracy in Africa. Many feared that Mr. Sall might change that.Mr. Sall, 61, was first elected in 2012 for a seven-year term and again in 2019 for five years after he modified the Constitution, which limits presidents to two terms. He argued that the constitutional change had reset the clock to zero, but legal experts in Senegal and abroad dismissed the contention as fallacious.Since 2012, Mr. Sall has presided over the development of one of Africa’s fastest-growing economies, focusing on major infrastructure projects like a new international airport, a train linking the capital, Dakar, to its suburbs and a new metropolis aimed at alleviating congestion in Dakar.He has also overseen the development of a gas field off Senegal’s northern coast that is expected to start production next year. It could make the country of 17 million people a major producer of natural gas in Africa.Yet, Senegal’s health care system remains underdeveloped, while youth unemployment is widespread. And under Mr. Sall’s leadership, hundreds of political opponents have been jailed and journalists arrested.Senegal now faces an open election in less than eight months.The future for Mr. Sonko, Mr. Sall’s main opponent, remains uncertain. Last month, he was sentenced to two years in prison for “corrupting youth” after a massage parlor employee accused him of rape in 2021. Mr. Sonko was acquitted of rape and other charges, all which he denied.Mr. Sall has yet to name a political successor. On Tuesday evening, he said, “Senegal exceeds my person, and is full of leaders capable of taking the country to the next level.” Source link Read the full article
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Eating with crooked forks (Part 2)
COVID-19 this week:
Before sunrise thoughts: Coming out from under the pandemic rock. The more I am present, the more I see. Feeling the ferocity of your anger or the inconsistency of your reluctance to hold yourself responsible for harmful actions inflicted on to others. The sharpness of your sarcasm and the deafening quiet of your silence. It is all there for me in surround sound. +++
“We must ask questions that will open new horizons. How [else] shall we grow into the demands of what is beyond us?”— Bruce Kramer
Ramble write:
“Our real power comes from…
Tines pointed skyward. Forks soldier straight and at attention. What will be the impact of the crooked forks on the days yet to unfold? Coming to more profound attention at holidays, weddings, and funerals. Naming themselves more astutely at times when truth is clamoring to be seen and heard. Where the cover, the lack of honesty, asks to be thrown to the ground and the real seeks to be named. The crooked forks play a part. They thwart truth’s potential, slanting the reality ever so slightly, it may not even be seen for what it truly is. But when the strobe light is cranked on, and the shadows recede to their respective corners, what is and always has been can come out and be more fully seen.
the courage to deal with our fractured relationships,
Dysfunctional family patterns have been a long fought struggle for me. Not always something I would have been able to name, but it was felt and I am thinking, there is the catch. Accepting the presence of the response before the full understanding of its meaning is identified. What is it that I continue to alight? What is the more I am bringing forward? Not feeling, as time is precious and finite, that it even makes sense to stay entrapped within the patterns confines. I was wondering if remaining in my present family conflict, pushing through and finding myself and others in better standing when we meet the other side, made sense. But alas, truth being known as the reality that it is, “same as, as same is” seems to be the mode of transport in response.
the vulnerability to acknowledge our hurt feelings,
Additional understanding is now being seen. As subsequent encounters happen, more is found or shed, the expansiveness of what is felt is greater there as well. It can’t be stuffed back in to a thin throated glass bottle and tossed out to sea. It is there in the place of the ever present. The risk of the hunt. The risk of the reveal. As more is known, more is shown. A bit tricky, I must say. Asking myself, what will I do with what I now know? How do I navigate the truth that is? Having the idea or assumption or hope that having a shared honoring focus with my siblings might make some of the historical family patterns fall. The kicker is that they, the patterns, need to be named when they rise up or more layers will simply be added to the pattern heap, holding stubbornly in place.
and the awareness to know when our ego shows up.” — Shawn Ginwright
To bend the fork tines straight again, we need humility and kindness. We need to listen with an honest intent to hear. There must be an intention that not only honors the mission at hand but also the people present without the anger and the ego; without shame and silence. There needs to be more in the mix if there is to be any honest transformation. How silly I was to think that it would be simple. That waving my kindness wand was all it took and all could be right with the world. At least in my little corner of it.
Being present here and now is truly what I seek. Kindness of action is what I demand. Not accepting other than what I would offer to another, they in turn, are to offer the same back. Not as a tit for a tat, but more as generous spirits engaging with one another. Not as in keeping score, but as a desire to provide the more in the meaning offered. There would need to be a lot of threading through the past, the history that has gotten so enmeshed into itself, to make that happen. Pulling out more that is sought as a way to better understand that there has been a lot of rigidity present. There is much that has been built up and hunkering down in our silos is not the answer. Hearts need to be willing to forge a change. All need to be on board with the idea or it all will remain as it always has been.+++
On my reading shelf: 📘📕📙📗
Bless the Birds: Living with Love in a Time of Dying by Susan J. Tweit
Genius of Birds by Jennifer Ackerman
Parting Words: 9 Lessons for a Remarkable Life by Benjamin B. Ferencz
We Know How This Ends by Bruce Kramer and Cathy Wurzer
Present binge watch: PBS “All Creatures Great and Small”: Trailer 🎥🐄🐑🐓
Talking Turkey: “The Fall and Rise of Turkeys” by Greg Stanley, Star Tribune: Read, November 20, 2022 🦃
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HI!~ (THIS IS MY FIRST TINE REQUESTING AND IM REALLY EXCITED) Can I request a scenario where their smol s/o (I'm like 155 or 5'1 for reference) gets easily lost? Like they just wonder off on their own cause they think that he's still with them and she tends to leave her phone with him so calling to find her is out of the question??? (Me honestly IM SORRY FRIENDS AND FAMILY) She likes a lot of things so sometimes its hard to find her cause they never know where she is? Ushi, Tsuki and Bokuto-🌼
-`,✎ Ushijima, Tsukishima and Bokuto losing their short S/O in a crowd
THIS REQUEST IS JUST TOO ADORABLE AND IT HITS SO CLOSE TO HOME!! We’re the same height nonnie 🤧🤧✋ Short gang, where ya’ll at?
Also I apparently don’t know how to read because I thought you requested for headcanons at first despite you clearly asking for scenarios so I decided to keep the hcs since I was already halfway done with them~ hope you don’t mind, nonnie!
The man is literally built like the empire state building, he just towers over everyone, it’s insane
And then there you are behind him, all tiny and stuff, it’s so friggin adorable
He doesn’t really notice your height difference at all
Whenever people point it out, he just cocks his head with his eyebrows furrowed and is like “Yeah, I’m tall?? And they’re short?? Why are you reacting like that?”
He’s genuinely confused and doesn’t see why it’s a big deal at all
When he looks at you he doesn’t really pick up on itty bitty details like your height and stature; he just sees you for the whole you and sees you simply as this perfect deity that he loves
But he does appreciate the perks that come with it such as the way you feel when he hugs you after a match or the way you look up at him so adorably when you’re trying to get a kiss
He also didn’t realize the cons that came with having a tiny s/o
There are many but we’re focusing on the fact that it’s so easy to lose you in a crowd
He’ll literally look away for 0.5 seconds and when he looks back at you, you’re suddenly gone
He probably won’t notice for a bit but after a while, he’ll wonder why you aren’t holding onto his sleeve or hand anymore
Whenever this happens he usually goes about it in two ways; he’d either stay still where he is and let you find him (which isn’t hard, he sticks out like a sore thumb) or if enough time passes, he’ll retrace his steps and look for you himself
He’ll have a tiny little frown on his face since he gets so worried about you, like you’re so tiny what if you get trampled??
When he does find you though, the wide smile on your face when you catch sight of him honestly makes the search worth it
can you tell that I miss ushi so friggin much
The streets in downtown Tokyo are always so packed at this time of day. There were hundreds of people rushing to and from work, tourists taking in the sights, and busy shoppers such as yourself and Ushijima; you two had just finished shopping together and were heading to your favorite restaurant in the area as you always do to end your date night.
Your hand remained tightly wrapped around the hem of your boyfriend’s coat as you two made your way down the busy streets, struggling to not get pulled away as people continued to mercilessly push past you. You would have much rather held Ushijima’s hand but he insisted on carrying all your shopping bags and was rather preoccupied with them at that moment.
He marched on, oblivious to your struggles behind him. It was during times like this when you hated how short your legs were, you were practically jogging to keep up with your boyfriend who, to him, was only going at a leisurely pace.
Before you knew it, your hand had loosened and you suddenly lost hold of his coat. You looked up, hoping to find him just a few feet away, but he had disappeared into the sea of people all around you.
Ushijima hadn’t noticed anything at first, he was too focused on where he was going to realize that the little tugs on the hem of his coat throughout the journey were suddenly gone. He looked down at both his hands and placed the shopping bags on one of them to the other so that he could use it to hold your own.
He held out his free hand behind him, calling out your name, and motioned for you to grab it. A few seconds went by of him gesturing like this only to be met with no response.
He looked back, eyebrows furrowed, only to find no sign of you.
Ushijima immediately stops in his tracks, eyes widening ever so slightly as he did a little 360 turn in his spot, raking over the crowds rushing past him in hopes he’d find your familiar head of hair bouncing about.
He stood motionless where he was, forcing people to walk around him—most wanted to tell him off for standing in the middle of the street but no one had the balls to.
A few minutes went by and he began walking down the direction he came from looking everywhere for you. Worry began to bubble in him when you were still nowhere to be found but suddenly he saw a figure waving at him from afar.
You were standing on top of those small cement blocks on the bottom street lights, waving your free hand that wasn’t wrapped around the lamp towards your boyfriend, grinning ear to ear when you met eyes with him.
Ushijima smiled in relief, shoulders relaxing as he made his way over to you. You met him halfway, immediately wrapping your arms around him in a hug, burying your face into his chest.
“I’m never letting go of your hand next time.” He said, pressing a chaste kiss on the top of your head before interlocking your fingers together. You laughed, nodding in agreement. “Definitely not.”
We all already know this: Kei is fucking ruthless
It doesn’t matter that you’re dating. It doesn’t matter that you’re literally his favorite person in the world tho he’ll never admit this to you you will not be free from his savageness
No one is more hyper-aware of your height difference than he is and no one teases you more than him
Tsukishima is literally the type to steal your things and hold them over your head or he’ll purposefully stand at full height whenever you want to kiss him just so that he can watch you struggle
“Oh, babe, I didn’t see you from down there.”
Is the type to purposefully put things you use all the time up on the top shelves in cupboards and cabinets
He says that he does this to annoy but really he does this so that you can call him to help you since he banned you from climbing the counters 🤧✋
He really loves your height though as much as he likes to tease you for it
He loves how easy it is to wrap his arms around you and how you burrow into his chest whenever you hug
His favorite thing about your height is probably the fact that it’s so comfortable being the big spoon with you since you fit so snuggly against him 🥺
again he’ll never tell you this, my man is tight-lipped
However he can get very protective over you, it’s like he developed this idea in this head that small = fragile
So whenever he loses track of you in a crowd (which happens a lot, it's honestly embarrassing) he immediately drops everything and searches for you
He’ll have this permanent pout on his face as he retraces his steps, going back to wherever you two were and keeping an eye out for either you or places that would catch your eye
Once he finally catches you, he’d sigh in relief and immediately put up his “i’m annoyed right now, give me attention” face and head over to you, knocking your head with his knuckles lightly
He’d lecture you a bit about staying close to him and he’d spend the rest of your time out with his eye on you and with his hand tightly wrapped around your own
The mall was always so crowded during the weekend especially now that Christmas was just around the corner. Tsukishima told you that you two should visit the mall later during the week but you were just so excited to see this new movie, he simply couldn’t say no; he cursed himself for being so tightly wrapped around your finger.
The building was already pretty full when you two entered the cinema but when you two emerged, it was as if the number of people there seemed to double in just a span of a few hours.
As you two made your way through the tight-knit crowds of people, the frown on Tsukishima’s face never left as people kept pushing and rushing past him. He called out your name behind him and said, “See, I told you we should have come after the weekend, it’s like half the city is here right now.”
He waited for your usual giggle or scoff, maybe a light smack on his arm as you tell him to brighten up but there wasn’t any of that.
“(Y/N)? Did you hear me? I—(Y/N?),” He turned around, worried that you may have been upset at him but instead was surprised to find that you weren’t trailing along behind him like he expected you to be.
He turned around fully, hands coming out of his pocket as he raked his eyes over the crowds of people around him. It would be nearly impossible to find you here, there were probably hundreds of people in the mall now.
Tsukishima groaned slightly as he ran a hand through his locks, his other hand going into his pant pocket to ring your phone only to realize that it was with him as well, right next to his. This elicited a second groan from the blonde.
Knowing you, you probably got distracted by something and wandered away from him.
He retraced his steps, keeping a close eye on his surroundings. He had no idea when you wandered away from him so you could have been anywhere. He stood at full height, towering over the majority of the crowd, and scanned the entirety of the floor and the shops on it.
He entered a few stores he knew you’d most likely visit; the bookstore, the pet store, and a shop that was having a 50% sale but he found no traces of you.
Tsukishima was about to give up and head to the information desk and ask them to announce something on the loudspeaker to grab your attention—probably something along the lines of “To the small gremlin wandering around floor three right now, please meet Tsukishima Kei at the main exit.”—when he spotted a bright store on the other side of the floor.
You were there. He just knew it.
He rolled his eyes as he made his way to the anime store and low and behold, there you were, crouching as you stared at the shelves of anime merchandise, a wide ear to ear grin on your face.
Tsukishima sighed and lightly smacked you, tearing you away from your thoughts and making you look up at him in shock.
“You are such an idiot, (Y/N).” You only laughed in response and wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed your face onto his chest. “Aww, Kei! Were you worried about me?”
“Of course, I was. How do you expect me to feel?” He said with another roll of his eyes. He brought his hand up and placed it on top of your head. “I was worried someone thought you were a child and kidnapped you.”
You let out an indignant gasp and started to smack him but he only laughed and took your hand in his, dragging you out of the store behind him ignoring your protests.
Nobody in the whole entire world thinks you’re more adorable than Bokuto
He adores the fact that you’re so tiny, he likes you call you his pocket-sized s/o
He never really teases you, instead he always coos and coddles you
He especially loves lifting you up in his arms and twirling you around, he always does this after winning a game and it always leaves you feeling dizzy
But you never complain bc who would complain about being hugged by Kou like that 🤧✋
However, as much as Bokuto loves how smol you are, he always kinda forgets that you’re short??
It’s because he’s always surrounded by tall people; his friends, the volleyball team, etc.
So he always forgets to adjust when he’s with you
And you know how some people just naturally walk really really fast, like they can’t help it, it’s just how they walk normally??
Yeah, that’s Bokuto
And this paired with the fact that he is literally 6’1 means he practically travels at light speed
Your tiny legs can barely keep up with your excitable boyfriend and you’re always practically jogging to keep up with him so if you take your eyes off of him for even just a few seconds he’ll probably run off somewhere and disappear 😔✋
This occurs so often when you two are out that you’re never shocked whenever it happens
It takes a few minutes before Bokuto realizes that he’s suddenly alone in a crowd and that you aren’t beside him like he thought you would be
AND IM SORRY BUT THE FIRST THING HE’LL DO IS JUST YELL OUT YOUR NAME REPEATEDLY AT FULL VOLUME WITH NO SHAME WHATSOEVER
“(Y/N)!! WHERE ARE YOU??”
Everyone around him would give him looks but he wouldn’t care, he just needs to find you fast or he’ll start panicking tho he lowkey already is
Some people would think that he’s looking for his kid but nah, he’s just looking for his smol s/o who would show up beside him after a while with a disgruntled look on their face
It never takes long for you two to reunite when you get separated, you just have to wait for the distinctive voice of your boyfriend yelling for you somewhere
When you two find each other, the first thing he’ll do is pull you into a tight hug, usually lifting you up from the ground as he presses a few kisses on your cheeks in relief
He’ll remember to walk slowly for the rest of the time you’re out, usually with his arm over your shoulder or with his hand tightly wrapped around your own
It made absolutely no sense to you that Bokuto literally grew up in the city yet has never visited the amusement park in the area before. You’ve visited the park countless times before but for your boyfriend, it was a first.
Bokuto was practically bouncing with excitement ever since you proposed the idea of visiting the amusement park together and it only got more intense as the day of your visit grew closer and closer.
You somewhat regretted not pushing your date to a later day in the week so that it didn’t fall on the weekend since the park was so packed but that feeling quickly dissipated when you glanced at your beaming boyfriend beside you.
What you did regret however was the fact that you didn’t wear more comfortable shoes, ones that were more fitting for exercise rather than leisurely walks since you were practically running around the park just to keep up with Bokuto.
His hand remained tightly clasped on your own as he sprinted all around the park, looking at all the rides, food stands, and gift shops around the place. He wasn’t really running, he was simply walking at a quick pace but this coupled with his long legs made it so difficult to match his pace with your significantly shorter ones.
You two had just gotten off a rather intense roller coaster and you felt your head spin from how dizzy it made you, you halted in your steps as Bokuto was about to begin running towards another ride making Bokuto stop as well as he was pulled back by your hand which was still holding onto his.
“Koutarou, let me rest for a bit,” You said as you sat on a bench in the shade, Bokuto immediately nodded and took a seat beside you, he handed you a bottle of water from his bag. “Sure babe, here drink this.”
After a few minutes of talking and resting under the shade, you stood up, reinvigorated, and filled with more energy. “Okay, let’s go, I’m feeling much better now,”
Bokuto immediately jumped onto his feet and beamed at you, more than ready for another round of rollercoasters and thrilling rides. He held out his hand for you to take and you two headed farther into the park.
“Let’s go on the Viking ride next—wait, hold on, let me fix this.” You let go of your boyfriend’s hand and began adjusting the overpriced headband on your head; Bokuto insisted on buying matching ones at the gift shop despite their ridiculous price (“Look, it’s just so adorable!”)
When you looked up, ready to grab ahold of his hand again, Bokuto was suddenly nowhere to be seen.
You whipped your head all around you but you couldn’t see the familiar head of hair of your boyfriend in the horde of people around you. You stood on your tiptoes, craning your head to get a better view but that didn’t do anything to help. You feel back on your feet and huffed; curse you and your short stature.
You walked down the direction you two were originally headed at, raking your eyes over the crowds of people you walked past when you suddenly heard a familiar voice yelling out your name from a distance. You whipped your head towards the direction of the voice and began to jog towards it.
Bokuto was standing on his tiptoes, his hands cupping his mouth as he called out for you over and over again, oblivious to the looks of shock from the people around him.
As he was about to scream out your name for the dozenth time, you suddenly pushed your way through the people around him and grabbed ahold of his arm, an exasperated yet also relieved look on your face.
Bokuto’s face immediately lit up, the small frown on his lips turning into a large smile as he wrapped his arms around you. He pressed you into his chest and lifted you off the ground as he usually does when he hugs you.
You giggled and flailed around as he did this, when he placed you back safely on the ground, he placed a small kiss on your forehead.
“Sorry for leaving you behind,” Bokuto said as he laced his fingers onto your own, “It won’t happen again,”
You scoffed playfully and let yourself be dragged along by him, “That’s what you said last time, Kou.”
#Haikyuu#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu imagines#Ushijima Wakatoshi#ushijima x reader#ushijima wakatoshi x reader#ushijima headcanons#ushijima scenarios#ushijima#tsukishima kei#tsukishima x reader#tsukishima kei x reader#tsukishima headcanons#tsukishima scenarios#tsukishima#Bokuto Koutarou#bokuto x reader#bokuto koutarou x reader#bokuto headcanons#bokuto scenarios#bokuto#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu reader insert#haikyuu hcs#haikyuu oneshots#hq headcanons
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A weird poem started when I was doing Very Badly and finished when I should be sleeping...
Here are 3 true things about me:
1. I really like the feeling of squishing avocado with a fork
2. I think that all magic is fuelled by sacrifice
3. It blows my mind that a chrysalis is full of goo.
The other day,
I was turning nearly-ripe avocado into guac
Feeling the green flesh flense itself
As it blorts through cool metal tines
And I realised
This was the first thing I had enjoyed
In weeks.
I realised then
That for some time I had given
Zero fucks at all about anything
And in that moment I had precisely one *fork*
To give.
Why that feeling in particular?
Maybe the sensation of thoroughly
Destroying something soft and round
Just getting under its skin
And rendering it to mush
Then licking the mess you made
And finding it … tasty
Maybe there’s something about knowing
You can make this better by breaking it
That is hopeful.
Or maybe I was just hungry, I don’t know.
I do know that I’m maybe not okay?
And that I enjoy the thought of delicate things
Jellifying.
You know that when a caterpillar goes in its chrysalis
It dissolves.
It’s goo.
Jelly.
Caterpillar custard.
Primordial ooze.
If I rendered you down to ooze
You probably wouldn’t become a butterfly
And honestly, I doubt you’d be happy
With the whole experiment
And I worry the feeling would not be as magnificent
As squishing avocado.
To be clear: I am not going to liquify you
I only squish people who are into it.
But I must admit: recently, I haven’t been into anything.
I think that is why I've been thinking of magic
Wishing I had a spell
That could fast forward through the boring bit
To where the action picks up again
But right now, the boring bit?
That's everything.
When I say I've been thinking about magic
I guess
I mean I've also been thinking
About not existing.
I've been thinking about shortcuts
That's a lot of what magic is, I think
A shortcut.
A way of cutting out the boring bit
I am imagining, now, my fairy godmother turning up
And taking the stone of the avocado
Hollowing it out
Shoving me inside
Splorch! In I go!
And rolling it down a hill.
When I get out of this hipster crash-dummy carriage
It's the future
And things are better.
But if I think about all the stories
That I like best…
Well…
There's no such thing as a free wish
Running from the prophecy will make it come true
The man who spun the straw has a stupid, unguessable name
And the fairy godparent doesn't know
What the fuck they're doing.
Magic is a synonym for shortcut
And shortcut is a synonym for Trouble.
The stuff you buy from the magic store comes at a terrible price
Because that's how tax works.
But you do it anyway
Because magic is also will
And magic is also choice
And magic is also change
And change doesn't come at a cost
Change *is* cost.
It is all the pain of getting from A to B
It is the magic leaving
An ugly strikethrough across your life:
No-one asks for magic
If they don't have revisions to make;
If they don't have somewhere or something to be.
The caterpillar can become a butterfly
But first it must be nothing.
The avocado can become guacamole
But first it must be paste.
All you want can be yours
But first you must realise that was never what you needed.
And I suppose that
If I am going to eventually be
A person that I like
Taking a shortcut through the place
Where I don't like anything
Might be a route I'm happy taking.
Though I don't particularly fucking recommend it
When I tell you these three true things about me
What I mean is:
Every change is a death
Almost every way we transform anything
Into anything
Should, by rights, destroy it.
And that being true
I will happily murder the person I am now
I will kill him with the dry heaves where tears should be and with ungiven fucks and with days spent sad in bed and with forks and hope
I will sacrifice him thusly
If that is the price to be the next version of me
I will remember that surviving these down days
Is the ticket to better ones
And by doing so, I will make it true
On purpose.
I will flense myself through the cool tines of the fork
And I'll survive
On purpose.
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Rose anon again! You guys forgot to tag my previous submission, and thought maybe you just missed my name tag, so I thought colouring it from now on might help!
Wels constantly engages physical contact with Bdubs, whether it be resting his head on top of his and wrapping his arms around Bdubs' shoulders or pulling the other to sit next him when they're hanging out. Bdubs enjoys the touch and attention, so it works out both ways!
Wels doesn't mind when Bdubs' friend, Etho, starts coming along. Etho constantly seems to have someone named Zedaph lounging on his back, tagging along most of the time wherever the lot of them go. Mostly, wherever Etho goes, Zedaph doesn't protest if he's there.
Wels does, however, mind when he starts feeling fluttery around all three of them. Not in a wants-the-feeling-to-stop kind of way, but more in a "what is this feeling and why is it happening" kind of way
Well, as it turns out, he really likes them, after being around them so much and learning more and more about each! The more he tries to pin point when it all started, the earlier and earlier his memory seems to go...
He remembers laying in a field of flowers, while Bdubs and Etho chased butterflies and made flower crowns for the four of them. Zedaph had been laying on top of him that time, not as sleepy as Wels had expected from the various tines they met. He remembers how Zedaph admitted to not really being tired all the time – "I'm actually full of thoughts and energy believe it or not!" – and that he simply enjoyed being carried. And that Etho was warm. Wels remembers laughing at that.
He remembers how he underestimated the weather one day and his hands were shaking. Etho had noticed and stepped in front of him to hold his hands with a cheery smile. He remembers wondering how stupidly romantic it would look to any passerby, the two with both hands linked together, facing each other. Wels remembers thinking it felt similar to an indie romance film. The two just stood there, and he would have to admit, he did feel warmer afterward.
He remembers falling asleep on Bdubs' shoulder. He only knows he fell asleep because he woke up to the sound of the other trying to get up, mumbling about how difficult it would be to carry a man clad in armour. He remembers hearing a shushing sound then feeling a gentle hand in his hair, then the couch settling again as he fell back asleep.
And then he remembers the present day. He stares at himself in the lake reflection, them hears his own name being called by familiar voices, and he turns to see the three centers of his affection. He'll properly sort out his feelings on day, but for now he's scheduled to go to the arcade, and he needs to get ready so he doesn't keep them waiting.
They are starting to get tired of Wels ignoring both his and their feeling for him, and if they snag a couple of kiss at the arcade the that’s their business.
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Don’t You Remember? - hes
summary: You left with no goodbye, not a single word was said, no final kiss to seal any sins.
author’s notes: Hi everyone! Thanks for the support on kiss in the kitchen! This is inspired by Adele’s Don’t You Remember, I hope you enjoy!
warnings: mentions of infidelity, mentions of alcohol, angst
request || taglist
If you were being truthful, which most of the time was a hard thing to do, you were full of bitterness and a cold heart sat in your chest. You'd been hurt before, more times than you could count, and had decided that the next time love came around in your life you would not hesitate to kick it back. Your last long-term relationship, which had ended when they'd decided an adventure was calling their name and you had no ticket with them, had left you in pieces. It had left you bouncing from bed to bed, leaving your mark on stranger's lives, but you'd disappeared before the morning sun rose, leaving them alone and cold in a bed you'd forget about before dinnertime.
But then you met Harry.
Harry was warm and he made your heart race with every touch he left on your skin. He was golden and beautiful, leaving you breathless as you gazed at him at your side. He was the warm spots in a sunny field where you'd spend all day if you could, reading a book as the breeze blew through your hair on the summer evenings. His smile was addicting and you found yourself stealing it onto your own face a lot of the time. It was as if a force unknown had brought you two together and the world had burst into color. Harry had come into your life like a storm that a drought had desperately needed. He'd stormed in and refused to leave, no matter how fickle your heart had been, he'd stayed and a part of you had been grateful for it.
It hadn't been a stable relationship, not at all. You'd both been hurt before in the past and that had made it hard for both of you to truly trust each other. It meant that sometimes moments would go from sweet and innocent to cold and distant. It meant that nights together were spent in a tense silence sometimes, or that they'd be cut short before things escalated too far. But you both felt something for one another, something so deep and passionate it spiked fear in your heart. A fear that it was all too good to be true and it was only a matter of time before things blew up like you were used to.
"Do you think we should go out for dinner? Or maybe we could order in," Harry's voice broke your concentration, your eyes looking up from the computer screen and finding his.
"Huh? Oh, maybe we should just stay in? It looks pretty shitty outside anyways," you shrugged, your eyes falling back onto the screen as you skimmed through the emails your boss had sent you.
"Yeah, guess so. And if we go out we won't have a lot of privacy, don't want our last night together for a bit to be full of people wanting pictures," he sighed and shrugged.
"What? Last night together? What're you on about, Harry?" you frowned, your eyes shooting back up to watch him move around the living room.
"I leave tomorrow?" Harry chuckled and looked at you with a confused look on his face, "I have to go to Paris to film for a month, remember?"
"That's tomorrow?" you asked and frowned, shaking your head, "I thought you said that was happening in July?" you scoffed.
"No, we finish shooting in July," he mumbled and sighed, "But you of course weren't paying attention, all you care about is it affects your own life."
You'd both frozen as the words left his mouth, both too afraid of what would come next if you truly spoke your mind. Yes, you were a bit forgetful when it came to Harry's schedule, but his life had always been hectic, and trying to plan your life around his seemed impossible most of the time. He'd be gone for weeks on end with no contact and the only way you knew he was safe and alive was when the internet told you so. Your jaw was clenched as you watched him, frozen in place near the entrance of the kitchen.
"You know what? You're right. I'm just a selfish bitch who only worries about herself and not the fact that her so-called boyfriend is going to be gone for another month," you scoffed as you stood up, sliding on the shoes you'd set by the end of the coffee table, "I hope you have a fucking amazing time in Paris, make sure not to stare at yourself in the mirror too long." you muttered, grabbing your bag as you made your way out of Harry's house.
You could've stopped and talked it out, like adults, but in all honestly, it had been exhausting already. Every time Harry had to leave for work there was always something he was upset about. At first, it was how distant you became when the day of his departure got closer. Then it was the fact that you always texted him while he was away, something he'd asked you to do in the first place. And now, it was you forgetting his oh-so-important schedule. It was exhausting, trying to talk things out when you knew it never mattered because it was just a matter of time before something new came up between the both of you. So you walked out the door, hoping that maybe Harry would follow after you and for once try to fix this himself, only to be left sitting in your car alone.
Days turned to weeks and soon enough, two months had passed since you had last spoken to Harry. The spring weather had turned hotter as July rolled in and the hot days became unbearable. Most of your days off were spent trying to distract yourself from the pain in your chest, the pain that had come with the absence of Harry. He hadn't called you since that night when you'd walked out, hadn't tried to text, facetime you, or even email you. He'd left you with silence and it was all because you'd walked out.
"You always do this to yourself," you thought as you jogged through the empty park, your forehead shining with the sweat you'd worked up, "You push people and then blame them when they don't come back to you."
It was true, this hadn't been the first time a relationship had gone to shit because of your fear of getting close. That's all the fight with Harry had been, an excuse to push him away so that you wouldn't end up on the floor with your crushed up heart. Not that it had helped much, but at least you'd ended things in a way that hadn't crushed your entire soul. But finding distractions became harder and harder as the days went on, everything was just so...Harry.
Some nights, when your favorite bottle of wine ad tempted you into a glass or two, or three, you'd find yourself sitting on the sofa in your apartment. You'd relived that night more time than you could remember, frowning as you couldn't remember whether you'd both said goodbye. That was what had hurt the most, knowing that you loved Harry and through your fear of it, you never even said goodbye or had that final kiss. You'd just left and hoped you'd see him again.
"Um, hi Harry," you mumbled into your phone, staring up at the ceiling as you took a few seconds to collect your mind.
Maybe the wine had given you the courage that you didn't know existed, or maybe the pain in your chest from finally realizing he was gone had kicked you into gear. You'd picked up the phone and clicked on his contact, seeing the smiley picture he'd taken one of the first tines you'd hung out as his contact, before calling him up. You'd hoped he was back, not wanting him to be across an ocean where the sun was high in the sky and his voice would answer back. You wouldn't know what to do if he'd actually answered, so his voicemail message had you letting out a sigh of relief.
"I know that things were left rather...shitty," you mumbled, chewing on your bottom lip as you sorted through your thoughts, "But I just, I want you to know that I think about where it went wrong a lot these days. I thought that if I gave us space and let us both clear our heads we'd be able to fix whatever this is."
It was true, you'd wanted to give him the space to process the fight. You two hadn't been exclusive, something you'd both been pretty open about since the beginning, but you still loved him no matter how much it terrified you. You'd given him the space to breathe and figure out if you and all your issues would be worth it. And now that there had been radio silence for weeks, you decided getting your own closure would send him the message that you understood.
"I just...I hope you remember the way it was during the good times," you said, the crack in your voice replaced by you clearing your throat, "How soft and whole it was. You made me...gosh, I don't think I've ever felt so loved in my life before."
Loving Harry had always been something you were terrified to admit to yourself. It still was in a way, but you knew you had to tell him the truth, even if it fell on deaf ears. He deserved to know that he was loved and that it was by you. That even if the silence between you two lasted until your last breathes were taken, you had loved him and it had been a privilege to do so. No matter how bad things had ended and no matter if he'd felt the same, you'd loved him and if he gave you the chance, you would love him still.
"I hope you still think of me, maybe that's why I get this warm feeling sometimes when I'm alone. Maybe it's you thinking about us. I hope I see you again soon, bub," you sighed quietly, holding back the tears as your voice began to shake, "I love you."
It wasn't until the call was hung up and your phone laid across from you on the coffee table that you let the tears fall. It'd been a mess from the beginning, casual hookups which led to more and more time spent together. Maybe if you had tried hard enough to work on you fears or maybe if you'd let him in more than you shut him out he'd still be here. But with your voicemail sent and your cheeks wet from tears, you decided all you could do was hope Harry would listen to the voicemail. And maybe, just maybe, he'd remember you just once more.
taglist: @hrrypinks @matchacal
#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles imagines#harry styles blurbs#harry styles fics#harry styles x y/n#harry styles#gemma writes
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