#why do people leave such a permanent mark on your memories

[wlwreader]

how to move on??

[berryz-writes]

Matheo Riddle Head canons

Takes AGESS to sleep, like literally stares at the ceiling for two hours to actually fall asleep unless your with him.( He'll fall asleep in 1 hour if your there 😏)

Is a light sleeper and wakes up even if you barely move

Has a resting bitch face. Is literally scaring people off left, right and centre

Likes to have his arm around your waist or shoulders when your walking together

ALWAYS complimenting you. Literally all the time. "You look gorgeous today" "You smell like fucking heaven"

Any time he hears a complaint or that your pissed off he will go out of his way to ask the person "Do we have a problem?"

Will always put something you like in your plate before serving himself

Loves calling you "princess"

Is smirking half the time your with him

He will literally get into two fights a week minimum (you have to stop him before he gets kicked out of the infirmary permanently)

Is really smart at potions and is always asking your opinion on who's better, him or Draco

You say Draco to annoy him (he won't kiss you until you say he's the best at potions) (literally lasts a day until he gives in)

Loves leaving hickeys/marks to show your TAKEN

Stands up for you even if your wrong. Will take the time to explain to you in private why you were wrong

Is literally carrying you from lessons to the quidditch pitch because he heard you say you were tired

When he can't sleep he'll trace your features really lightly, trying to memories you.

Says "I'd rather fucking die than not have you with me" on loudspeaker so everyone can hear. (Ofc everyone is jealous of your cute relationship.)

spends HOURS just listening to you rant and puts in his helpful advice/commentary

Your main source of gossip is Matheo because for some reason he knows everything

[izvmimi]

cw: angsty. breakup mention. based on this song.

Everyone wishes they could go back to the beginning of a love affair, and perhaps if you were ever afforded the opportunity, you’d rewind to many years ago, when Suo first smiled at you and asked for your name. Perhaps you would have smiled just as politely and given him an alias or a nickname that wouldn’t grow as familiar as your name did eventually in his mouth, or come up with some sort of false appointment to help you leave the soiree. 

It's not like you could have known.

Your friend had told you he was a good man, and by all intents and purposes, he is one - kind, considerate, devoted to serving the community he’s a part of, perhaps at a time devoted to you - but now you are trying to erase desperately every memory you’ve shared, as if the endless harsh scrubbing of your body touched by him, as if rough fingers on your scalp and searingly hot water will melt every mark of him on your soul. 

This is a no-fault end to a love affair. He assured you it was him, not you, and plus, you both wanted different things, he’d reminded you, holding your fingertips the entire time over the coffee table so you wouldn’t shake or cry in public. You’d nodded, as if in a trance, his lips forming words that you had no choice but to agree with, even if soon you could barely hear what he was saying from the rushing of blood in your ears.

Suo doesn’t want you anymore. Did he ever want you? Did he ever love you? 

No fault. You did nothing wrong, you just grew apart, and adults do not force square pegs into round holes, they let each other be free to explore and be nurtured by the communities they serve and fall in love again, as many times as it takes to find the connection that fits and lasts.

It doesn’t matter how long you scald yourself under hot water, the love won’t fade away.

…

You hear your now ex has left the country from your friends a couple of weeks later, and you’re none the wiser. You don’t stop to think more about why, because you’ve cried enough times that the part of your brain that processes him and his person is now numb, and all you can do is nod, even if people are surprised to know you weren’t aware.

You have no details to share.

It’s not you, it’s him, after all. 

A year passes, and six months prior to this has you trying to date again by incessant coaxing from your friends, but the curse of being dumped with no explanation and the love of your life disappearing without a trace seems too daunting to move past. You call a crush Suo by accident and don’t even realize until he’s frowning at you as he pays the check, and finally you give up, wondering if something about you has been permanently altered.

It’s been a year and radio silence. No social media updates to even stalk (he always thought private life should stay private) and you had too much pride to ask his friends (if even they knew).

Only time would fix this and in your late 20s, you wonder if eventually you’d run out of time. 

…

Suo resurfaces in the middle of the night, dry despite the rain, save for his cloth shoes. He looks like he’s finally come up for air once he’s seen you, and it’s a miracle you’ve even opened the door, but he’s like an apparition, and you need to reach out and touch him.

You haven’t thought about him all week.

Men like him always appear when you’re trying to move on, don’t they?

“I missed you,” is the first thing that comes out of his mouth, and you know he’s telling the truth. You don’t reply, and he doesn’t say anything further, as if he’s waiting for you to slam the door on his face.

You don’t. All you do is say, “It’s not me, it’s you.”

His face turns to steel for a moment, and you can see him turn into the ghost you were expecting for a moment.

He whispers your name and you look down at his feet.

“Take off your shoes. You have exactly ten minutes.”

When your eyes meet his again as you look up, they’re filled to the brim with thankful tears, more emotion than you’ve seen in years.

Indoors, tonight, you’ll decide if there is still a fate that connects you, while the breeze and the moonlight outdoors remains constant.

[moltensmusings]

I was wondering what your thoughts were on the battle of fairy tail arc and what if anything you would change. Personally I would have liked it if they Laxus had a better relationship with the thunder legion - or there had been some stuff before that showed they were close so his spiral over the arc into being kinda a dick to them too was more shocking. On a side note, I'm kinda sad they didn't include in the anime the scene where he overhears people bashing fairy tail in a pub and beats them up because I feel it speaks to his character more!

Anyway I've been really enjoying your headcannons and they've made all the arcs you've discussed better in my head lol

Thank you! My goal when thinking up rewrite ideas/alterations is always to enhance the story presented more than fully, outright change it to something else entirely.

I didn't read the manga prior to Grand magic games since I was anime only, but I probably should at some point because scenes like that would be interesting to see!

I fully agree with you on the "Laxus should've cared point". One point I always think about every arc is just how much Mashima doesn't trust his audience to hate villains without making them horrible, sadistic people. Now I don't need villains to be written as redeemable, I myself thoroughly enjoy writing heinous individuals who are cruel to their core with no regard for life outside of their own (and even sometimes no regard for that). But if you want to make a villain that the audience can accept as redeemable you either need to make them complex and sympathetic, or show us their hard earned redemption.

Now, for Laxus, I personally would've made it clear that he cares about Fairy Tail members. Not just the reputation of the guild. Though his ego and insults towards others would often have people believing that. Makarov and Erza would both be capable of seeing through this and understanding that every criticism he has towards his guildmates comes from a place of trying to help them get better to keep them safe. I'd hint at him having a history of being close to guildmates who die or leave due to permanent damage sustained on missions.

This underlying care would be the reason Makarov would believe him to be the one right to take over as master. Because in spite of his inflated self worth, he still cared for his family.

Phantomlord arc would've been his breaking point, I would remove the scene of him saying he'd only help if Lucy dated him (that was only added to make him hate worthy) and have it simply be that he can't be reached due to a mission with the thunder legion. A rift forming between him and Makarov for Makarov letting Gajeel into the guild with no explanation after the dude hospitalized team shadowgear and tormented Lucy would cause him to believe Makarov incapable of putting the safety of the guild above the redemption of enemies.

The battle of fairy tail would be his way of proving to various members that they aren't cut out to be mages because if they can't even take care of themselves in a controlled environment, how can they hope to do so out in the field. He'd have a desperation as well to show that he is the strongest person in the guild thus the only one capable of stepping up to the role of guild master (Him having divine magic in the au would also explain this solid belief, god given magic and all that.) Rather than getting angry when Evergreen, Bixlow, or Freed loses, there would be a resignation that they aren't meant to stay. A sadness to it because he'd have known them all for almost a decade at this point.

"Why would people get frozen in stone" rather than it being all the girls who competed, it would be every member he deemed too weak to compete safely. People who use primarily support magic or haven't been with the guild long enough to make a mark in his memory of what they're capable of. Erza would be post tower of heaven nerf at this point so she'd be far below her normal strength level.

Makarov nearly dying this arc rather than being a moment of elation, would simply reinforce his need to get things done. To prove his own strength and take the position he was destined for.

When Makarov sends him off to self reflect he would note "You can't know what will come of people. Dangers exist in the world whether you're part of a guild or not. People will do as they please and all you can hope is to prepare them for what comes."

I would also throw in a few flashback scenes during the arc, scenes of guild members interacting with Laxus and Laxus meeting/grouping up with the thunder legion. I'm personally partial to Makarov raising Erza post tower of heaven so I'd have loved if prior to this arc we got some Erza/Laxus sibling scenes.

Again: I don't need villains to be tragic always, I think gajeel being a horrible person that has to earn his place is something I like (wish it was better handled) but for characters like Laxus I think them being complex and sympathetic is crucial. Especially when we don't see them until they've completely changed.

[eddiesguitarskills]

When We Were Young

Part 5

Ex bf Eddie Munson X fem reader

Other parts 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6.

Intro: 5 years have past since you packed up and left behind Hawkins. Well not all of it, as the people you met there are still a huge part of your life. But it's been 5 years since you had set a foot in the small town, 5 years since you left him.And now after all that time you were back.

Warning: angst, language, mentions of suicide, miscarriages, self harm, mental health.Arguments. Mentions of break ups. Female identity reader. Use of y/n

Bold parts are flashbacks

Word Count: 4.3 k

A/n: please only read if you are in a good place, I wouldn't want this story to trigger or hurt anyone. This took a while to write again, I just don’t want to rush it. Sorry for the wait hope you enjoy. Buckle in for this rollercoaster of a chapter

Not prove read

The first week of school had been hectic, to say the least, you had expected that. But it genuinely felt like you haven't been able to sit down once, you thought by having all your lesson prepared there wouldn't be too much work other than classes. However, you wanted to make good connections at your new place of work. Especially since a lot of the teachers at the school were there when you were a teenager, you felt like they still saw you as a kid not ready for this responsibility.

Steve fit in so well, he was always better with older people. It was easier for him he was a charmer. You on the other hand were better with kids/teenagers they were easier to read. Your wanting to fit in had led you to have multiple jobs, you felt like this was a test from the other teachers, like a form of hazing so you just said yes and went along with it. You helped organise books in the library. Ran after-school detention. Had to watch the canteen at lunchtime. You were on a permanent coffee run. You had even fallen into the trap of helping to repaint a wall with the school janitor. You were honestly surprised you had any time to teach in between everything you were doing.

Steve had told you “you don't need to do that to fit in. You'll find your place you always do”. But you didn't know how long that might take so you went along with it. It felt worth it when you were invited to drink after school at the local bar on Friday. You knew Steve didn't go to these things which made you nervous, but you knew you would have to start to exist in this town without your crutch.

Which is why you were now standing arm-to-arm with your new colleagues in a packed Hideout. It had improved since the last time you had been there. However despite its new paint, new artwork on the walls. Even with a new sign with a new name, Waterdeep, It still felt the same. The exact same as the night you and Eddie properly met. Nothing had changed. While listening to your colleagues share memories, ignoring your existence, you look around to see what was still there since you last came. You wonder if your’s and Eddie’s initials would still be carved on the table near the toilets. Most people avoided that table so as a teenager in love you thought this would be the best spot to leave the mark of your love.

Sweat dripping from every inch of his body, Eddie jumps from the small stage guitar still strapped to him, over to you. He grabs your cheeks and kisses you deeply. You were glad to be held because you think you would have fallen if not. You had already gone weak at the knees tonight when you heard Eddie’s new song dedicated to you, singing about you being the one. “Did you like it?” You nod your head. “Better than anything I’ve ever heard. Did you mean it?”. Eddie smiles “as I said in the song I don’t care if people think I’m young, and dumb. I know one thing, you are the one I will love for the rest of time”. Heat starts to rise to your cheeks. “When did you get so soft?” He grabs your ass from under your skirts. “Maybe it’s when I saw your rocking body” he joked because he loved you for more than that. But Jesus he would happily worship your body every day. That would be the only religion he would need.

You smacked his chest playfully, then dragged him to where you were sitting. He placed you on his lap in the booth at the table, kissing your ear and your neck. He couldn’t keep his hands off you. You giggled but could also feel more than butterflies starting to rise in your body. You took his hand from your waist and pulled it under the table “eager” he said not understanding that you weren’t trying to ‘play’ in the bar. He put his hand on your leg running up and down it. “Eddie, I didn’t mean that”. He looked glum but quickly removed his hand not wanting to make you uncomfortable. “At least not here at least”. You spoke so only he could hear you. You pulled his hand under the table again and let him feel it. He felt the outline of both your initials carved into the wood. He smiled. “So no matter where we go our mark will always be on the first place we met”. He pulled you in for another kiss, then moved you off his lap. Reaching into his pocket. “In that case, it has to be someone less hidden than under the table. I think our love at least deserves the top of it”. It was silly but I’m that moment it felt like the most romantic thing. At that time everything Eddie did felt like the most romantic thing to ever happen.

You couldn't stop staring at the table, wondering if it was still there. That might be the only proof you have that your love was real. That you were happy together, that at one point he loved you. “What world have you travelled off to now?” You spun around to the sound of the low gravelly voice. You should have put two and two together and realised if Eddie was to own any bar of course it would be this one. It held so many memories for him. It was of his safe places where he could completely be himself. Maybe it wasn't the original dream for him but it made so much sense. It was like this job was always meant for him. You were happy for him.

Eddie had not expected to see you here. Despite how he was acting he was nervous but strangely happy to see you. This could be his only chance to talk to you. He thought you might avoid him for the rest of his life for how he treated you last time you had spoke. Sure you had said some things and you had still hurt him, but hearing about the breakdown made him feel guilty. He felt like the guilt was eating him alive or maybe it was the wondering that was doing that, (if he saw the signs he could have helped?). The problem is when he had these internal battles in his head he always stubbornly ended up with the same thought, that you left him before he had a chance to fix it. Part of him wanted to apologize but he didn't know 100% what for and he was sure he wasn't supposed to know about what happened. Dustin said it wasn't public knowledge, only Steve was allowed to know. It was always Steve. Even now he felt jealous that you always completely let Steve into your world and he had only got a chance to dip his foot in. Even worse now he was out of it altogether.

He was so nervous that he thought about not talking to you, and hiding in the back until you left. That would be pathetic he thought, but he was tempted. That was until he watched you more intensively and noticed how the people you were with were ignoring you completely but then again you weren't trying with them. It looked like you had given up on interacting, he couldn't blame you he recognize many of the faces of his old teacher and he wouldn't want to talk to them either. But this was your new job, you need to try with them. You couldn't shut down. It wasn’t his responsibility to make you feel less lonely or at ease but he didn’t want have something else to feel guilty about. Maybe he couldn't trust you with his heart but he could give you an olive branch.

He noticed you still hadn't said anything and had gone back to daydreaming, he used to think you had the cutest face when you went into a trance. You still did. He almost didn't want to break you from it again, but the longer you were there the more he panicked. He remembers what you said about this place at the Harrington’s, saying it wasn't his dream like he was a failure. Were you judging him? He wanted to put on a front like he didn't care what you thought, but he couldn't stop thinking about it.

“Welcome to my almost dream” you both cringed at his words. “It looks good”. You didn't know what to say. You wanted to tell him you were proud, but it wasn't your place anymore. He hoped you meant that. Those few words were something he didn't know he needed until he heard them from your mouth. “The usual?” he smiled. You were a creature of habit, but maybe you had changed he thought. Maybe this was a small test to find out what was the Same and what was new about you. Every time he remembered you drinking, you would have a vodka and coke. Only half a shot of vodka though. It always felt like the safest drink. “Just a coke. I can't drink anymore”. Why did you tell him that? Can't. The word made him thinking you not drinking wasn’t by choice. He wanted to ask. The word don't and can't are very different but it wasn't his place anymore. “Coming right up”.

He pours a coke from the tap and slides it over to you. “How much?” he shakes his head. “Call it mates rates” he uses a stupid British accent to impersonate you. He regrets it instantly when you don't laugh or smile. How could you smile when you were face to face with the fact that the old Eddie was still in there? The one you loved. Did he flirt with all the customers? Was he just being nice? Was there more to it? Did he notice you looking glum and was trying to cheer you up? Why would he care?

It made sense if you were being rational about it, there was nothing more to it then the fact that he couldn't be cruel like usual in front of the customers. He had to be pretend to be nice but that didn’t stop your heart from stupidly beating slight faster. You knew the old Eddie would unfortunately for you never be real again. A glimpse was all it would ever be, he would slip back to the Eddie who hated you on your next meeting. The thought hurt more than you would like to admit. “I didn't know we were friends” you mutter. It sounded like a dig, you didn't exactly mean it to, but it was a fact.

Silence followed after your statement, you assumed with how busy the bar was, Eddie would use this as his excuse to leave. He had been civil enough for the evening he could go, but he stayed. Thinking about what to say next. Sure you were right, you weren't exactly friends, but you weren't strangers, and given the new information he knew about you, he couldn't bring himself to hate you. So where did that leave you two? The silence was killing you, it felt like all the noise from the bar had disappeared and the only sound you could hear was the gears turning in his head.

You look around the room for anything to mention to stop whatever this was. You see the stage, with a drum set at the back and a microphone. “Do you still play?” He was very thankful for your change of topic and even more thankful you were still talking to him. He wanted to enjoy these few moments with you. He shakes his head. Your stomach sank. You hated that, he was good. Maybe he wasn't amazing enough to break out of the state, but he was still good. You used to love singing with him in his trailer while he played the guitar. You could have never imagined he would have given up something that made him so happy. You wondered what other happiness he had deprived himself of. “Why?” He shrugs his shoulders and mutters “because it made me think of you”. You shouldn't have been able to hear him with how low he spoke, especially with how loud the atmosphere was but he was all you were focused on right now and his words felt like another knife being twisted in you.

It showed you that no matter how hard he pretends to be nice or civil with you, he still looks down on you and blames all his down comings on you. “Oh, so it's my fault”. God he hoped you hadn't even heard it and now you thought he was insulting you. Eddie Munson could not win with you, he ran his hand through his hair. Keep calm, you are doing so well. She is just trying to get a raise out of you he told himself. “That’s not what I meant sweetheart,” he says walking off to the other end of the bar to help the other bartenders. Your heart was beating so fast you were sure you were having a heart attack. You guessed it could be a panic attack but it didn't feel like that. Could it be... No, you shake your head of course not.

“ I see some things never change” you turn around to see Mrs O’donald your old teacher giggling into her chardonnay. “You two were always joined at the hip, I hope he doesn't get you into trouble anymore. I always thought you could do better than him” she slurred her words. It was weird seeing someone who used to be your teacher and who was now your colleague drunk. She always had an issue with Eddie, you always thought it was people like her that was at fault for his failures. Sure he could have put more effort in but it's hard to do that when the people who are supposed to teach you don't even have your back. That's part of the reason you wanted to be a teacher to help kids like Eddie, show they can do it and are worth it. But to hear her still look down on him, pissed you off. You smiled the fakest smile and grabbed your coke off the bar downing it. “Looks like he's doing pretty good to me. I guess you and everyone else were wrong about him. In fact he did all this without your help” with that you left.

The next morning you woke up glad for it to be a Saturday, it had dawned on you what you had said. You were better than that, you could usually bite your tongue. You had worked so hard to fit in and now you had gone against one of the top dogs at school, you hoped it was just your anxiety making you worry and school would be fine. You should have kept your mouth shut. After everything he had done to you, you were still defending him. You felt like a fool. So like a fool, you spend the rest of the weekend in bed hardly eating, walling in self-pity. Ignoring the phone.

As soon as Monday came around you knew you couldn't avoid the world anymore. Maybe it wasn't as big of a deal as you were making it. You hoped it had been forgotten about. Whatever the case you needed to sort out your thoughts, you couldn't teach like this. You were thankful for the first period being free. You sat at the desk eating a cereal bar making sure the scripts from Romeo and Juliet were ready for your next lesson with the juniors. You heard a tap on the door, “come in”.

Steve looked at you and shook his head. “So you are alive then” you want to roll your eyes at him, but you hate to think he was worrying about you all weekend. After what happened you knew better than to just shut out the world or at least better than to shut out Steve. “I'm sorry it was a weird weekend”. He gulped worried that something bad had happened, he knew he should have just come around to your house to check on you. “Weird like how everyone is saying you and Eddie are dating or did something else happen?” He decides to mix a joke in about the rumours in the staff room to disguise his worry. He knows you and Eddie had been seen talking on Friday. He hoped it was better than the last time you were in a room together. He hoped Eddie wasn’t to blame for you shutting Steve out all weekend.

You groan and slam your head on the desk. You didn't think that's the gossip that would be spread. You didn't want to have your name linked to Eddie anymore. “Jesus I should have kept my mouth shut, you can't talk to anyone in this town without it being news. All I did was defend him one time”. Steve looked at you confused “wait so you spoke to him, didn’t kill each other. Then defended him. Are you okay?”. You fake laugh. “seriously though I don't know if it's a good idea for you two to be friends, I don't want you to get hurt again”. The school bell rang “I get it, dad, now you better go I have class”.

Eddie had also had a weird weekend but he didn't have the chance to stay inside all weekend like you. He had to go to work. He wishes he hadn’t overheard you standing up for him. It played over and over in his head. Your being back in town had caused more questions. Nothing made sense. He assumed you hated him or didn't like him anymore so you left but why would you stand up for someone you didn't care about? He guessed you were just being nice but it felt like more than that. Before he even had a chance to ask you or thank you, you had left.

He had Monday off work, so he decided this would be his day to go wallow and figure out what this all meant. As soon as one pm hit, he got a call from Dustin so he had to postpone his wallowing. He was thankful for his friend's constant chatter it was a nice distraction from thinking about you. About two hours after that the doorbell rang to signal someone was at his door. Maybe it was you. He had gone a full two hours without thinking about you and now as soon as his brain had a chance to drift to you, it did. It made no sense either why you would be at the door, you didn’t even know where he lived anymore. Even if it was you, what you be here for? What would you even talk about? It made no sense to want you here, but he couldn’t control his thoughts. All rationality had him left since you came back.

He opened the door to reveal Sarah with food from his favourite diner in her hand. With the tight white dress she was wearing that left nothing to imagination he knew exactly what she was after and it wasn’t the food. So he pushed the weird thoughts he was having about you to the back of his mind and took Sarah up on her offer. He didn’t feel like he was using her, he was always upfront about their relationship. He had told her he couldn’t date anybody, and she agreed, saying she only wanted fun. So as long as it didn’t affect work and both knew they could stop this whenever. It felt nice to have an outlet to forget without strings attracted.

Eddie had help Sarah get off a few times but when she tried to return the favour, they were having issues. Eddie was so stressed and thoughts were still consumed with you that he could only get a semi at most. This had never happened before, Sarah felt embarrassed and Eddie felt mortified. Especially since you had already ruined the hope of him ever being in a relationship, now he couldn’t even have sex because of the thought of you. He got out a pre-rolled joint from his bedside table and began to smoke it. He hardly smoked weed anymore. At most once a month but he knew it would help him relax so hopefully he could sort his problem and try again with Sarah.

Halfway through the joint, the house phone started ringing again. He assumed it must be Dustin to finish the conversation they were having before Sarah came. He hoped talking to his friend would help him forget again, so he raced out of the room to the phone. He was about to pick up when he realised he still had the blunt in his mouth. He stubbed it out remembering his promise to Dustin to try and quit. He didn’t want to disappoint him. He then picked up the phone, “sorry I had to hang up before, but I’m free now if you wanna talk again”.

“Sorry to disappoint but I’m definitely not who you were expecting”. Eddie stopped himself from sighing, he hadn’t spoken to Steve in a few weeks. He and Steve being friends, Eddie would have never expected it, in fact, he thought when you left, him and Steve would hate each other forever. However, that’s the thing about this group they had shared trauma and would never leave a man behind. Steve followed this most out of everyone he checked in with the group at least once a week, and with Eddie being around the same age they talked a lot. They in fact grew to be good friends, even if Steve was always a little hesitant to let Eddie fully in. Not hearing from Steve for weeks was weird, but right now it felt weirder to be hearing from him.

“So I heard you and y/n spoke”. Eddie pulls the cord as far as it could stretch so he could sit down at the kitchen table. It felt like a conversation he would have to sit for, otherwise, he would pace back and forth. “Hello to you too, how was work? Great thanks for asking. Been up to much? Not really- ” Steve fake laughs. “Yeah I get it sorry, it’s just y/n is important to me”. Well, that felt like a slap to in face, he knew that. Everyone knew that. He didn’t appreciate being treated like he was dumb by someone he would have called a close friend only a few weeks ago. He hadn’t done anything wrong so why was he getting ambushed? “You two have a history, and I don’t know if it’s a good idea for you two to be friends”. Eddie's leg uncomfortable shaked under the table, “I can't win with you either I'm too mean or I'm too friendly. What do you want me to do?”

Steve tried to stutter out a response, not sure of what he was asking of Eddie. “I get that… it’s just… it’s just…she’s been through a lot”. Eddie's leg shakes more “I know which is why I’m trying to be nicer” he wished he still had the joint right now. “You didn’t care before, why do you care now? Is this some stupid plan to get revenge?”. Whenever it came to you, Steve would get over-protective, and say the most ridiculous things. Eddie had done nothing wrong this time and yet he was still getting told off. He slammed his fists on the table and stood up unable to control his legs. “Jesus if I’m such a bad guy why have you let me around your daughter? If I’m so bad why are we friends?” The insecure side of Eddie wanted a response, wanted to be told he was being dramatic that of course they were friends. Steve wanted to say that but was too stunned to speak. “Fuck I was just a placeholder. You know I wondered when she came back if I would get replaced but I should have known. Me and you were never gonna be friends. I was just a stand in. I didn’t even make you choose but you always chose her. I think you forget she didn’t just leave me, she left you too. I wonder how long until she gets sick of us again and leaves”. Eddie knew he had hit a nerve when he was met with silence. He didn’t need to say anything else but he couldn’t help himself, why not put an extra nail in the coffin of Steve and his relationship? “You act like you are her protector but you didn’t protect her from that breakdown did you?” A low blow from Eddie he knew that, but he said words that he knew would hurt Steve most.

A bang followed by mumblings of Nancy could be heard through the receiver. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Steve had punched a hole through a wall. “Maybe you’re right maybe we could never be friends because I would never be friends with someone responsible for my best friend trying to kil” the phone hung up. Kil- what did that mean? Surely not kill? Kill what? Kill who? Yourself? No. You wouldn’t? He guessed a breakdown could lead to that. But not you. Never you. Steve was just trying to get to him. The men knew each other well, he was just using his weakness like Eddie had used Steve’s. The words meant nothing surely. Rage started filling his body, along with fear and anxiety. He needed to get it out. To curse out the world. Steve. You. Himself. He flipped the table in front of him but it wasn’t enough. So he destroyed everything in his sight but none of it was enough. None of it helped. None of it answered his questions.

A/n: I hope you enjoyed this. Yikes Steve and Eddie’s relationship has really gone sour :( I liked that I didn’t just have to write y/n and Eddie arguing/hating each-other for once.

Taglists

@sidthedollface2 @chonkzombie @mxcheese

@ariacraigggg @chickennug90 @nope-thanks

@rockautumnfanfic @foreveranexpatsposts

@secretdryrose @munsonzzgf @ashlynnkennedy

@violetsandroses8 @sashaphantomhive

@r-a-d-i-O-n-O-w-h-e-r-e @emma77645

@aysheashea @supernatural-1983 @cutiecusp

@1paire2vans @anonymousstoryteller2000

@harrys-tittie @hsmygolden @gretavankleep37

@mmalemanipulator @brxkenartt @ly17

@micheledawn1975 @mmalemanipulator

@harringtonfan4 @brittney69 @clarewinchester

[theaistired]

WIP Intro - Galidean

Key Words

Fantasy | Mystery | Magic | Nature

About the WIP

I was in 7th grade when I played Fire Emblem Blazing Sword for the first time. My brother showed me the official artwork and since I loved the art so much, I started drawing characters that could fit into a Fire Emblem game. Eventually, it turned into an original story which was later combined with two other story ideas into one big setting. Also known as the reason why this series sits currently at 12 planned books… No, I don’t know why I (keep) do(ing) this to myself.

The series is (currently) structured into 3x4 books. While there is an ongoing story happening throughout the entire series, 4 books always tell one story in themselves.

Since I’ve been in a never-ending cycle of writing and then fully abandoning my drafts until last year, I’m still working on the first draft of the first book. However, the entire series is more or less planned out with major plot points already set in stone.

Trigger Warnings

This isn’t supposed to be dark fantasy, however some worldbuilding elements/plot points might be disturbing to some.

Violence (mostly physical, sexual violence is only alluded to) | Body horror | Human experimentation

Summary

The first story told within the world of Galidean takes place 100 years after the defeat of the Dark Sun, the most powerful dragon in living memory. To celebrate their victory, the human nations gather together, sending their future leaders on a diplomatic journey through the different territories.

While all seems well at the surface, scorching raids are leaving their marks all over the continent. Afraid that the seal keeping the Dark Sun imprisoned is beginning to break, strangers band together to find a way to end the Dark Sun permanently.

Main Characters

Valerian: The second prince of the Empire. An anxious young man who tries his best to make his family proud despite his numerous shortcomings. A gentle soul interested in history and culture and always intend on kindness and doing good in the world. 21 y.o. | he/him

Sanura: An orphan from the Land of Legends. A confident and outgoing woman who will soon take up her oath to serve her home for the rest of her life. As most people struggle to see past her muscles, they don’t see Sanura’s many skills honed through years of dedication. 20 y.o. | she/her

Calder: A noble from Ilai, heir to the most prominent and influential house. An easy-going young man who keeps calm in the face of the many rumours surrounding his past and present. As charming and cunning as a fox. 18 y.o. | he/him

Rune: A shaman from the nomadic people of the north. A young man with a cold demeanour and a brilliant mind. Dedicated to his family, his people and the pursuit of arcane knowledge above all else. 18 y.o. | he/him

Side Characters

Nimue: A noble from Ilai, one of the few arcane healers. Quiet and seemingly unshakable, the young woman is renowned for both her beauty and healing abilities. She keeps her thoughts to herself and is the closest confidant of her betrothed, Calder. 19 y.o. | she/her

Thyra: Rune’s little sister. They suffer from a unique chronic condition that will result in an early death. Driven, sharp witted and inpatient with those around them, they impress others with an odd assortment of talents. 15 y.o. | they/them

Snippet: Galidean Book 1 | The Secret Kepper | Prologue

Today I say goodbye to my home and family, to my people and myself. Here I write the last testament and last confessions of a legend. This grand hall holds many accounts of its accomplishments, of victories and defeats. However, some is still missing, and it is my last duty to complete this archive. The hole within history is made of betrayal and secrets, going hand in hand to where I do not know how to begin.  But I suppose, it does not matter. These words are meant for no one but the echoes of a hollow heart.

Tagging

@colombette (Thank you so much for your feedback on the intro!)

[solsearchingnights]

Hi! You reblogged a post recently about authors not wanting to talk about symbolism and repetition and themes and foils and analysis stuff in their own work, and I was wondering if you had anything like that for your fics (that you’re willing/able to share) because if so I’d love to hear it! (I may have become mildly obsessed with iitv and a lesson of fire and ice recently since they’re the kind of thing I like to read and amazingly well done)

OOOOOOoooooohhhhh boy!! There is so much

But because I'm at work and also terrified of accidental spoiling my own fic by getting too excited talking about it let me just talk about the title. It's something I've wanted to explain for a while!

Ink in the Vase

I needed something to evoke an image, right away. And its a complex one. Even if you're not familiar with "Flower Husbands", 'vase' is almost always connected to a bouquet of flowers. So it's a steady image. Everyone can put their own flowers in it. Maybe the flowers will change over time, with new events in the story or in the reader's own life events.

The same goes for the vase itself. Up until the carafe of flowers in the hospital chapters, there was no indication of a particular style. I describe Jimmy's dishes as having a mish mash of antiques and hand me downs from Ela, so maybe the vase becomes a chipped and repaired antique to some people. Maybe the image of the carafe was impactful enough that it's what stays as the image to people. Or maybe the bleakness of Jimmy's home in the beginning sticks with the reader, and they imagine a plain, dusty, glass vase.

It's interactive, flexible, and starts a process of pulling the reader into the story before they ever read it. And it's a good hook every time an update comes. It brings up the reader's personal experience with the title, and makes it easier to recall past events of the story.

And the Ink.

It took a bit of a leap on my part, but I found two ways to make this work.

The first, is that ink is staining, permanent. Whatever it touches, purposely or not, leaves a mark. Anything that happens in the story or the backstory, I want it to feel like it's clinging, staining, impossible to completely ignore. If that ink, those events, are touching the rest of the mental image, the vase you're picturing isn't allowed to be "perfect", the flowers are going to be poisoned.

And second, is where I took a leap. I loved doing flower staining growing up. That thing, where you make a fresh cut of a stem and feed the plant dyed water to turn the petals different colors. There's ways to do it with living flowers and cut bouquets. It depends on what you feed the flowers. So we can see the flowers, see the results of what they've been fed, what they've been placed in and forced to make a part of themselves. If that food/water is toxic and dark and ugly, signs of that experience will show. But if you clean the food source, put in bright colors and healthy food, fresh water and love and care, the next buds will come out healthier and healthier, until all that's left of the toxic relationship is memories and pictures and maybe a little bit of a shadow of a stain. It can get better, if people are willing to put in the work and care to fix it.

Put it all together and even if no one ever thinks about me as much as I did- even if no one knows what exactly the title is doing, I know that it's special. I know there's gonna be people who it has an effect on, even if they don't know why. I know how important this little four word summary of the story is.

Honestly, I would love to see the images "Ink in the Vase" has brought to people's minds.

Thank you thank you thank you thank you for this ask!! I hope it's what you were looking for. If you had specific things you were wondering about, feel free to ask. This was so so cool to have permission to talk about and I'm very much happy stimming atm lol.

<3

[the-crow-binary]

It's Mactor time. >:)

The context is that Mathias (pre-Elisabetha's death) somehow appeared in Dracula's castle (pre-CV3) and bonded quite a lot with Hector ( @beevean :3). Might be a little niche but eh, it makes at least two people happy <3 (beevean and me)

"Scar me."

Hector looked at his Lord with horror, as he took his hand and put it on his bare chest.

"Right here. On my heart." "My Lord, what are you…" "I need it, Hector."

He could never. He has been rough with him a few times, during their most passionnate moments, nothing that he didn't like. But hurting him to the point of leaving a permanent mark? Why would his Lord desire such a thing?

"Please…"

Mathias rest his forehead on Hector's shoulder, hiding his face from him.

"Why would you want that?" he asks, in the most gentle way he could mutter. "Because…"

The man paused. Has he ever looked as vulnerable? It didn't suit him.

"…Because I need to have a piece of you to bring home."

Hector felt a lump forming in his throat.

"It cannot be an object," Mathias continued before he could form a response, "I could lose it. Someone could steal it from me. I can't bear the thought... I don't want anything physical, but I don't want just words and memories either. Those can fade away, even the most precious ones… I need something that will forever be with me, something no one could ever take from me, not even myself. Not even time nor death. Even when I…"

He could not finish his sentence, but Hector guessed what he was thinking about. Who he was thinking about.

"…If this is your wish, then I will gladly grant it. But on one condition."

Mathias raised his head, and Hector let himself drown in his pitiful expression for a few seconds. Mathias was a man who knew to never betray any emotion, just like him. But, just like him... he had his moments of weakness -his moments of humanity-, that only a handful of people ever had the chance to witness.

He was honored to be one of them.

"I want you to scar me as well. It is only fair that if you leave with a piece of me… I keep a piece of you, too."

The tactician squeezed his arms, with a strenght that could almost stop Hector's blood from running. He never was so strong… Funny the effect despair can have on people.

"But your body… isn't it scarred enough?"

The Devil Forgemaster cracked a smile.

"Not until your mark joins the others. It will be the only one that matters, the only I will be able to look at with fondness, instead of disgust and shame... The only one to give me strenghth in my darkest times."

The grip on his arms lightened.

"But aren't some of those marks already caused by… me…? What if you end up hating the scar I made?"

Hector lay a soft kiss on his lips.

"It will never happen. All I care about is Mathias Cronqvist, the human. Not Dracula. He isn't you. And once you'll finally carve your love into my body... Then, I will be complete."

The older man sighed.

"God, Hector... Who taught you how to charm people like that…?"

.............

"Please, my Lord. Allow me to admire you in all your beauty."

Dracula took his protégé's hand and kissed it's back. Hector let him do, though it made him feel no better than a puppet to be played with. Things have not been the same since Mathias went away. Back to his own era, with his own... He wiped out the thought.

"How could I say no to you? Go ahead."

That's all he needed. Slowly, Hector moved his hands. He undressed his master, starting by the top, ignoring as much as possible his oppressing gaze. When his chest was mostly freed, he allowed himself to caress the cold skin. The flesh was clean, perfectly smooth. No matter how much Hector looked, how much he searched for the feeling of an old wound under his fingers, there was nothing he could find.

It was true, then. Mathias has long been gone... No, it was worse than that. The monster currently above him has never been his Mathias.

His new scar itched.

[kakairu-rocks]

We are excited to introduce our next shining star for the Creator Spotlight... My_Private_Tsukuyomi!

This is an activity where we reach out to one of the talented people in our community each month to find out all about them and their kakairu creations, and then show them off to the world!

We hope you enjoy learning about My_Private_Tsukuyomi & her creations as much as we did. Please give her some love ❤️  

Pronouns: She/Her

Type of Creator: Writer

Where to find her:

AO3

Discord: My Private Tsukuyomi

Read the exciting interview below the cut, or on the forum!

If you would like a chance to be in the spotlight too, the only thing you have to do is be a member of the kakairu rocks forum or follow us, and be a kakairu creator; and we will contact you, ourselves!

1. How long have you been creating KakaIru fanworks?

Since January 2023

2. What are you working on right now?

I’m working on a Modern Day AU KakaIru Sugar daddy/baby fic with a twist. Iruka is the high-powered CEO type with a huge philanthropic streak but is trying to battle a hostile takeover that includes a marriage/business merger. Kakashi is a disgraced, down on his luck veteran. Kakashi needs a job and Iruka needs someone on his arm in public to stave off the marriage pressure but also someone capable of protecting him at events. But what neither expected is that the lines between the job and real feelings would get blurred so quickly!

3. What is your favourite trope to create for?

Angst with a happy ending seems to be my specialty. Kakashi and Iruka suffer a little, but that just makes the final resolution all that much sweeter.

4. Which of your creations is your favourite, and why?

Right now I’d have to say one of my latest creations, The Road of Life. It uses scrapbooking as an opportunity for Iruka to travel down memory lane to look at a life well-lived and well-loved with Kakashi. I tagged it MCD but it isn’t permanent - I could never permanently separate these two!

5. Do you have any WIPs you’re excited about?

Surprisingly enough I’ve only got the one WIP right now, which I described above. I have some half-formed ideas, but I haven’t started anything else yet. I think I’m waiting to see what the next theme will be on the kakairu discord server. I love meeting those monthly challenges!

6. Do you have any original characters? If so, tell us about them!

My first fic featured an OC female ANBU badass named Minako. I created her before I turned to writing KakaIru, realizing how perfect Kakashi and Iruka are together - they are canon, just mostly off screen. But yet they connect enough on screen to convince me that they are meant to be.

7. What was your hardest piece to create, and why?

I think I’m having the most trouble with my WIP because it’s completely different from anything else I’ve written. Plus I want it to be a bigger, multi-chapter thing with real world-building. That’s always a challenge.

8. Do you have any favorite scenes from something you’ve created?

I do! One of my favorite scenes is from my first KakaIru fic Of Romance and Holidays. Kakashi takes a candy conversation heart that says ‘be mine’ and carves a little question mark and the letter K into it before leaving it for Iruka to find.

My other favorite scene is from The Road of Life, when Iruka and Kakashi meet for the first time after the Pain attack. Iruka tries to tell Kakashi he wasn’t worth Kakashi’s sacrifice, that he’s nothing. Kakashi interrupts and tells Iruka that he is, in fact, everything.

9. Where does your inspiration come from?

My inspiration comes from many places. I often dream in KakaIru, so sometimes those dreams become fics. I also draw inspiration from songs. Three of my fics are based on song lyrics. Finally, I draw inspiration from the wonderful folks on the KakaIru discord server Forbidden Scrolls of KakaIru. The prompts and challenges posted there are phenomenal.

10. Which of your creations is the most meaningful to you, and why?

I don’t think I could choose just one. All of my creations are a piece of me. It’s both delightful and terrifying to share that piece in my fics, and it is humbling that people actually read and enjoy them. Thank you to all of my readers. You, like Iruka to Kakashi, are everything.

[alharringtonfan]

Pretentious Mark poem

Lurking beneath people's feet,

I reached out my hand, trying to reach,

The others, so I could no longer be,

A forgettable speck of light,

In the abundance of souls and meat.

They are way out of sight, farther than my fingertips. 

My head is strained, a cracking sound,

My legs are heavy, stuck on the ground,

Their bodies are light as a feather, flying above me,

To the gates of heaven, where they will live.

My disgraceful tears are streaming down my chin,

There is nothing more than this Earth for me to achieve. 

A blinding glow conjures past my eyes,

Lines of white form in the red sky.

I try to scream, but nothing comes.

My faith in survival is long gone.

The only one that rests, in this fiery place,

It is solely me, gone to waste.

I clung to the dirt, trying to escape. 

The untimely fate, that waits past beneath.

This looming death terrifies me.

Not even in the pits of hell, is somewhere I can be.

The spiraling darkness, the infinite rest,

My dead eternity, standing right ahead.

I fell on my knees, as I pled:

I am not ready for the end yet. 

...

I was born as Mark. But it just wasn't enough.

There has to be anything, to put outforth.

Who am I? What have I done?

I know there is something, for praise I deserve.

This is not enough for them,

And I don't want to be alone.

What is to be engraved on my tombstone? 

I was Mark the gracious, Mark the master;

Mark the great, Mark the jester;

Mark of many capabilities and constantly reversed.

An endeavor of vanities, 

Of muted personalities, 

That in the mirror I faced. 

I lacked the touch of others, despite all I did,

The flaw that I carry, I was born with it.

What had I done in past lives, to deserve this? 

I am Mark the meek, the warrior, the pastor,

Put the others before and myself only after.

All of my virtues are confused and done,

As all of my faces are merging into one,

A permanent contort of extreme misery,

The theater I'm in, for all to see,

Is a tired old spectacle, a long-lasting tragedy. 

But most importantly, I am Mark the fool.

Mark the moronic, the ugly, the mule.

My body is truly nothing but a tool, 

My mind is made to be abused.

My heart is broken and I am dirty.

I was sent for nothing else.

My single functionality,

Is being used. 

Oh Jesus, as I pray everyday,

Why don't you ever answer what I have to say?

I need your help. I need to slay,

This sickness inside, that brings me dismay.

Get rid of this sin, so that I will too,

Dedicate all of my life, exclusively to you.

Because, in God's name, no matter what I do,

He never gets away from my mind's view. 

Oh Lord, are you even real?

.... 

Your hazel eyes gleam in the late afternoon,

Olive skin so soft, strong and beautiful,

Accentuated by the sunset's hue.

Thick neck, the smell

Of hot chocolate, mellow and well.

So kind and sweet.

How much I wish, I had the courage to tell.

You have your family,

And I have my shame.

This paralyzing guilt is up my neck.

By strangers I am chased,

And I lust for them back.

We are now so far away,

That it's as if we never met.

These passing years of mine were nothing but wasted.

What have I done, why have I stayed, 

In this terrible place?

This world is not for me,

And I do not deserve it.

I've had enough. I have to go.

But the fear of the unknown keeps me here. 

I want to lose myself to the absurd.

Throw the body through the fabric of reality,

And consume perception as a whole.

I want to forget that existence was even

A concept to grasp. My eyes must lie,

Mind confuse itself and memories die.

Then, these bad feelings will mean nothing. 

For I will not know what those were.

I will forget what I was called,

What was wrenching and discrete,

Turns obsolete. Unimportant matters will

Disappear. And then,

The falling leaves will finally be,

More important than everything felt 

Ever was. 

Tears no longer come,

I'm tired of crying, I am done,

With feeling sorry for myself.

Everything that I ignored,

To focus on my anguish,

Is just a passing memory,

That will never come back.

And this, truthfully, makes me sad.  

And so, I whisper one final prayer.  

God, thank you for your patience

For listening, for knowing, and your response.

I'm deeply sorry for my stubbornness.

I should have never cursed your name,

This mistake will lead me to my grave.

But Lord, I thank you.  

My life was good,

My virtues were great.

I am Mark Heathcliff, the one and correct.

I will pass with pride, my worth still lies intact.

I was loved, my God,

By you, by him,

But I hadn't noticed yet.  

Goodbye my Earth! 

How interesting it was when I was yours,

A victim of endless horrors,

Of catastrophe.

You win, I admit.

I just hope that at least, in my flesh,

You could also relish from it.

This is the only gift that I can give. 

....

Watching below people's feet,

I cling on my arms, as I grieve

For the others, I hope they'll miss me.

When my soul is torn and my meat rots,

My body turns into dust; the dust into blight.

From shadow to nothing,

Behind stays light.

[mxliv-oftheendless]

Strangers with Memories

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY PEOPLE!! Or, if you don't like Valentines Day, it is also the birthday of @ladyshandioftheendless!!! So as a birthday gift, here is a story that dives back into the KISSteriaverse! Fair warning, this is gonna get REALLY SAD, which is ironic considering it's Valentines Day lmao (totally didn't do that on purpose... except I did lol). I was inspired to write this after listening to the song "Strangers" by Taemin, which is actually where this story's title comes from, and which you can listen to HERE if you want before reading this story! It's a beauuuutiful song.

Enjoy! And happy birthday, Shandi!!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Nikki hasn't seen Starchild in years. He hasn't even been to KISSteria in years. But he wants to prove to himself that he's moved on from everything that happened, that he could see Starchild and not feel heartache. He could do this... right?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Nikki could do this.

It had been years since what happened. He hadn’t seen Starchild at all in those years. He steered clear of any diplomatic meetings with KISSteria (Vince would mercifully explain it away saying he was sick), he avoided any news about KISS on Earth, hell, he even avoided the “K” section in record stores. He hadn't looked at his hand in months, at the finger where a glowing purple string would have been tied… if it hadn’t been broken. He hadn’t even thought about Starchild in over five years. Their breakup and the whole mess around it involving demons and his possession was firmly in the past.

So when Vince got an invitation to come to KISSteria to renew Anarkia’s alliance with the KISSterians, Nikki felt like he could finally come along.

“You sure you’re good to come, dude?” Tommy asked as they got ready to leave.

“What are you talking about, Tom?” Nikki asked as he threw some clothes into a go bag. “Of course I’m good to come. You can introduce me to that royal court chick you keep seeing every time you go.”

Tommy laughed at that. “Yeah, sure. But listen… I know all… all that shit really messed you up. And I heard… um… he’s gonna be there. If you don’t wanna go…”

“I wanna go, Tom,” Nikki insisted. “I’ll be fine. Besides, we won’t be the only ones there. Aren’t the royals from Jendell gonna be there too?”

Tommy shrugged. “I dunno. Ask Vince.”

“Pretty sure he said they’d be there.”

“Alright, fine.” He punched Nikki’s shoulder with a grin. “Look at you, paying attention for once like a responsible person.”

“Fuck off,” Nikki laughed, whipping a shirt at him.

He could do this. He wouldn’t be alone there. It wouldn’t be awkward. Everything was in the past now. He could face the past. He could face what he’d done. He could face Starchild. He could do this.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

To Nikki’s delight, not only was the royal family of Jendell there, along with their aide, but so was Prince Michael and Nicholas from Hanoi. The two were accompanied by three young elves, who were practically climbing over each other as they gazed awestruck around the palace.

“Mikey!” Vince said gleefully, clapping the fairy on the shoulder. “Since when did you become a family man?”

The affectionate smile on Michael’s face seemed permanently fixed there as he watched Nicholas try to wrangle the three excited elves. “About a year ago. We found them outside the palace and decided to take them in.” He laughed as Nicholas had to run and prevent one of them from knocking over a decorative vase on a pedestal. “They’re a little excited to be leaving Hanoi for the first time.”

“Dude, we should show them the burn mark you made in the wall the first time we were here,” Nikki said to Tommy.

“Not sure why you’d wanna show that off,” Mick grumbled. “Didn’t they have to cover it with a tapestry cuz of your dicking around?”

“Sure did,” Tommy grinned proudly. “It’s been like, forever, and they still can’t get it out! I check every time we’re here!”

“I’ll bet you ten shots they finally got it out,” Nikki dared.

“Oh, you’re fucking on! I’m gonna go check right now!”

Mick sighed as Tommy dashed off. “I’ll go make sure he doesn’t wreck anything before the welcome ceremony,” he said resignedly, as though he was assigned this task every time they came to KISSteria (he was). He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and trudged off in Tommy’s direction.

Michael just laughed as Vince went off to say hello to Nicholas. “You all certainly haven’t changed,”

Nikki just laughed, not really wanting to get into the complexities of that. I definitely have… “Yeah…”

He couldn’t help trailing off as he scanned the hall. There was Nicholas, laughing with Vince; there were the three young elves, chattering excitedly as they looked up at a tapestry; there was Ace—he supposed he should call him King Ace now—and his aide in conversation… where was everyone else?

“Looking for someone?”

Nikki turned to find Michael giving him a politely inquiring look. “Uh, y-yeah—well, no, I just—maybe…” he finished lamely.

He really didn’t like the knowing look on Michael’s face. “I am sure the Prince will be here shortly to welcome us.”

“Oh, good… A-And the Elder, too! She’ll be here too.” Nikki hated how awkward he sounded when he laughed. Fuck, what was wrong with him? “She’s the queen, so… yeah. She’s gotta be here too.”

“Nikki… I confess I was a little surprised to see you here. The last time we all gathered in KISSteria, Vince told us you were sick.” Nikki felt like the knowing look was cutting into him. “Are you all right being here now?”

Nikki’s stomach dropped. He knows. “I… Yeah. Yeah, I’m all right.”

Michael just slowly nodded, making Nikki feel far too exposed for his comfort. “I’m serious!” he insisted. “I’m fine! It’s just gonna be a few days. Seriously, Mikey, I’m fine.”

Thankfully, Michael just nodded. “All right. I am glad you’re feeling well enough to come this time.”

“Y-Yeah… me too.”

He could do this. When Starchild came through the doors to welcome them all, he wouldn’t shy away. He wouldn’t run away from him like a vampire running away from sun. He could do this.

As soon as he thought that, the doors opened, and the Elder swept into the hall, looking as intimidating and regal as ever. And walking just behind her…

Nikki’s heart skipped a beat. There he was. There was Starchild.

He looked better, Nikki thought immediately. He couldn’t help remembering how Starchild looked the last time he saw him; stressed, drained, upset…

Heartbroken, his mind whispered.

But he didn’t look heartbroken anymore. He looked better. His livelihood was back. The glimmer of life was back in his eyes, though it seemed a little softer now and less excited. And Nikki was suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to close the distance between them and…

But he stopped himself. He couldn’t. Starchild wouldn’t want that. He probably still didn’t want to even look at him, even though he probably knew Nikki would be here. Had he ever wondered how Starchild felt about things like that? About being forced to be in the same room as someone you loved or despised and not be able to express that? It was torture, having to stand there and pretend he didn’t have such a complicated history with Starchild.

And then suddenly the Elder and Starchild were right there, welcoming Vince to KISSteria. Nikki tried to focus on the Elder, instead of the man that stood behind her. He was just a few steps away. Nikki wished he was a mile away.

“And greetings to you, Nikki Terror,” the Elder was suddenly saying. “I am pleased you feel well enough to join us this time.”

Nikki was suddenly seized by a paranoid fear—did she know? Did she know what happened? Did Starchild tell her? He couldn’t tell anything from the pleasant smile on the woman’s face.

Calm the fuck down, Terror. Maybe she’s just welcoming you and commenting on how you haven’t been here in a while.

Nikki forced himself to calm down, giving her his signature smirk and an overdramatic bow. “Yep, I’m feeling great. And by the time I leave, you’ll probably be hoping I’m sick again next time.”

The Elder chuckled. “I don’t doubt it,”

As Nikki raised his head, his eyes unconsciously turned to see Starchild’s reaction. His heart leapt when he saw the smile on the man’s face. He was smiling at something Nikki said. Did that mean anything?

Nikki longed to be able to ask him. He longed to be able to get a moment alone with Starchild and ask him if that smile meant he was forgiven, if it meant Starchild didn’t hate him anymore. But he couldn’t. If Nikki wanted to prove he could face Starchild, he couldn’t do anything.

And so he let Starchild and the Elder walk away from them to go greet Michael and Nicholas. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He made it. One interaction had gone successfully.

“Dude, you okay?”

Nikki jumped at the whisper and realized Tommy was suddenly beside him. “Don’t fuckin’ scare me like that!” he hissed.

Tommy snickered. “Sorry. But seriously, you okay?”

Nikki blew out a breath and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He could do this.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A couple days later, Nikki found himself stuck at an event of some kind; a little party for the visiting diplomats, according to Vince. And so far, like these things always were, it was fucking boring.

He found himself keeping Mick company, sitting to the side while Mick talked to King Ace’s aide, who had introduced himself as Tomaziel. Mick had let it slip that he was originally from the Celestial realm, sparking a conversation between the two.

Nikki was trying to follow their conversation when he suddenly caught sight of a necklace hanging from Tomaziel’s neck. The pendant was oval, and covered with a turquoise finish, but Nikki could still see an eye through the turquoise. He couldn’t help looking a little closer at the eye, making out its brown color. That eye looked so familiar…

“Nikki, was it?”

Mick’s elbow suddenly nudged his side, and Nikki looked up to find Tomaziel looking his way. “Uh, sorry,” he said quickly. “I just… I saw your necklace.”

“Oh.” Tomaziel looked down at it with a smile. “I see. It’s lovely, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s nice.” Why did that eye look so familiar? “So, what’s with the eye?”

“Oh, well…” Tomaziel’s face suddenly turned a very light blue. “The one who gave it to me… it’s his eye.”

“You lucky bastard,” Nikki laughed before he could stop himself. “Your boyfriend gave you that?”

“That’s fucking weird,” Mick muttered as he took a swig of alcohol.

“Don’t mind him,” Nikki said gaily as he patted Mick’s shoulder. “He’s just jealous ‘cause he’s lonely.”

“Fuck you, Terror. I am not.”

Nikki ignored him, instead grinning at Tomaziel. “So, who’s the guy?”

Tomaziel laughed a little awkwardly. “Um… well…”

“Excuse me,”

Nikki looked up, even though he didn’t have to, already knowing who it was. Sure enough, Starchild stood behind Tomaziel’s chair with a polite smile. Nikki couldn’t help thinking to himself how handsome he looked in his formal purple robes. “Mind if I steal Tomaziel for a minute? I think Ace wanted to speak to him about something.”

Nikki didn’t say anything, just looked down at his drink. Mick waved a hand. “Sure, no problem.”

If Nikki had looked up, he would have seen Starchild’s smile widen ever so slightly. “Wonderful. Tomaziel?”

Tomaziel, who had been looking up at Starchild the whole time, set down his drink and stood. “I’m right behind you.”

Nikki couldn’t help watching the two as they walked away. Why wasn’t Tomaziel walking closer to Starchild? Why was he a few paces behind?

“Hey, dude!” Tommy suddenly plopped into the chair next to him. “That court chick is here if you wanna meet her!”

“Later, Tom,” Nikki heard himself say. He was too busy watching the two. Starchild had left the ballroom, through a door off to the side. Tomaziel was a few feet to the side, speaking to Ace. Then as Nikki watched, Tomaziel bowed his head, excusing himself, then turned and walked out the side door.

Something started to knot and twist in Nikki’s stomach. He knew that maneuver. He’d done it so many times before with Starchild. Did that mean… but they couldn’t…

Nikki suddenly shot to his feet. “I’ll be right back,” he said to no one. Then he made a beeline for the door.

The hallway beyond the door was dark as Nikki left the ballroom. The only light came from torches along the walls, casting the hallway in a dim glow. Nikki swiveled his head around, trying to figure out which direction he needed to go. They couldn’t be far.

And then Nikki heard it—muffled voices. He began walking in the direction he heard them, making sure to be quiet. He was about to turn a corner when suddenly—

“—want to steal you away and keep you in my bedroom.”

Nikki dove back behind the corner at Starchild’s voice. He heard a second voice stammer, sounding embarrassed. “I—Starchild!”

Nikki’s heart plummeted as Starchild laughed. That was Tomaziel.

“It’s true!” Starchild giggled.

A laugh from Tomaziel. “I would willingly go with you. It’s hard not being able to see you. Having this necklace, though… it does feel like I have a part of you with me.”

“Good,” Starchild sounded happy. “That’s the point.”

Something seized Nikki’s heart and began to strangle it as he heard Tomaziel sigh. Now he knew why that eye looked so familiar. He’d looked into that eye and its other thousands of times before.

“I missed you,” he heard Tomaziel say.

“I missed you, too. I’m so happy you could be here.”

“So am I. I couldn’t miss the chance to see you.”

“You came all this way just to see boring old me?”

“You…” whatever Tomaziel did in the pause made Starchild giggle, “could never be boring. And yes, I did. And I’d do it again, many times.”

Starchild laughed, and the sound made it feel like a knife was going through Nikki’s heart. He finally mustered up the courage to lean forward and peer around the corner.

There in the hallway were two figures. A torch flickered, and the flare of light made the stars on Starchild’s outfit and the silver detail on Tomaziel’s gleam for a moment. And as Nikki watched, the two of them hugged. And it was like they became one single being, the way they seemed to melt into each other’s embrace. The figure Nikki knew was Starchild rested his head on Tomaziel’s shoulder with a sigh.

“I’m so happy when I’m with you,” he said aloud.

A lump formed in Nikki’s throat. He couldn’t stay here. He had to get away.

So he sprang away from the wall and took off back toward the ballroom, not caring if Starchild and Tomaziel heard. He couldn’t focus on anything except the feeling of his heart breaking in his chest.

Starchild had moved on. He had moved on completely. It wasn’t just what happened between them that was in the past—Nikki was now in the past as well.

“Nikki?”

Nikki skidded to a stop right before he crashed right into Michael. It appeared he’d re-entered the ballroom, and thankfully no one was looking his way. Except Michael, who gave him a look of concern. “Is everything all right?”

“I…” Nikki’s throat closed up. He felt like crying. But he willed himself not to cry. He was not going to fucking cry. “I’m… I’m not… feeling good…”

Michael nodded. “I see,”

“W-Will you… tell Vince I’m gonna g-go to bed?”

“I will. Get some sleep. I’m sure you’ll feel better in the morning.”

No, he wouldn’t. It was a nice sentiment, but Nikki knew he wouldn’t feel better in the morning. “O-Okay. Thanks, Michael…”

And just when Nikki thought it couldn’t be worse, that was when he saw Starchild re-enter the ballroom and go over to the Elder. Nikki’s heart shattered all over again at the smile on Starchild’s face. He looked happy, far too happy. Nikki wanted to scream at him to stop looking so happy, that he knew where he’d been, and who he’d been with to make him smile like that.

“Nikki,”

Almost gratefully, Nikki turned back to Michael. The fairy’s face looked sympathetic. Stop fucking looking at me like that! “I want you to know, you can come to me for help if you ever need it. I know you prefer to do things on your own, but if you ever feel the need for help, you can always ask for it.”

Nikki almost didn’t want to say anything, because he was afraid he’d either start raging or crying… or even do both. He managed a nod, then willed his voice not to shake. “Okay,”

Michael reached out to pat his shoulder. “I will go tell Vince you left,”

“Thanks…”

But as Michael walked away, Nikki heard Starchild laugh, and his head turned before he could stop himself. Starchild was smiling and laughing as he talked to Ace. And there was Tomaziel, standing next to Ace and not talking, but his eyes fixed only on Starchild with a small grin of his own.

Nikki had never seen Starchild look so relaxed and happy. Not even when he was with you.

There was another stab of pain in his chest—his heart was shattering all over again. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Starchild got to get back up and move on and even find someone else, while Nikki was alone and broken. It was like something inside Nikki was keeping him from moving forward. Why didn’t Starchild have something keeping him back? It wasn’t fucking fair.

He felt like hitting something, or crying. They were in the same room, full of people they had mutually known for years. They had known each other for years. And he really wasn’t that far away; he just had to walk a small distance and he would be right there, able to talk to him like they were old friends. But no, he couldn’t. Because they weren’t even friends anymore, were they? Starchild was miles and miles away, pretending Nikki was a complete stranger, and Nikki was alone.

Nikki dug his nails into his palms and finally turned away to leave the ballroom. He couldn’t do this.

[annimator-ocblog]

OC Story: Reassurance

(C’s currently in the void.)

(TW: Mentions of Death)

C feels like they’ve been falling for the past… well… they lost count after 4 minutes.

To his surprise, he doesn’t feel himself hit the ground. It’s almost like gravity slowed for a little bit once he was a meter away from hitting it.

As much as they want to know where the heck they are, C first got a good look at himself in a mirror from his quick creation;

Considering the fact that they quickly created a mirror to get a look at themselves, it’s quick to note that they still have mana in them despite being in some kind of void.

But despite that, he still had marks all over his body signifying that he’s running out of mana. Guess that’s probably be permanent, they aren’t bright and glowing anyways.

Their hair’s messed up, but their goggles are still perched atop their head, and their jacket is nowhere to be seen, with the only thing he’s currently wearing being a white t-shirt & gloves, and black cargo pants.

With that out of the way, C stands up to get a good look of his surroundings, immediately recognizing where he is.

It’s his childhood village, a place he’d never forget thanks to all the memories they made there. Even if everything was primarily in a white colour.

“It’s a nostalgic sight, isn’t it?”

C quickly notices the voice of someone, turning around to look at the stranger face to face, immediately being astonished at who it is.

“Your… the Creator. I…I have so many questions right now. Is this the afterlife? Am- am I dead? How are all-.”

The Creator immediately calms C down as they placed one of their hands on his shoulder.

“Don’t be worried, all your friends are safe C. They’re all waiting for you to wake up.”

“Then why am I here? Like it’s nice and all to see my old village in a good albeit void-like state, but what’s the point of all of this?”

The Creator smiled over C’s question, “There’s two people here that want to see you. I’m sure you have a lot to talk about with them, but rest assured, there’s an exit in the form of the portal around the village’s entrance when you’re ready to leave.”

C has a good feeling as to who the Creator’s talking about when it comes to two certain people here that want to see them.

Either way, it still doesn’t change the fact that he starts to tear up once he sees those two in their sight.

C immediately ran to give his parents a hug. He hasn’t really gotten the chance to do so for a long time, so he’s cherishing the chance to do so.

The Creator was right when they said that their parents have been watching them. They gladly accepted Chloe C for who they were and gave him their full blessing to be with Jadeyn. And on top of all that, they were grateful for the way C honoured their memories.

And yet, they still had a lot to talk about before C ultimately woke up.

[p-o-t-g]

Old writings

Acting like I belong to someone that I don't, making me feel messed up. As if I'm broken into pieces and pieces splash to every corner possible, close or far. Only touch that is familiar is yours. Because how could it not? You were the only one to touch every part of my body in every way possible. My body was your hands and lips home, instead of being mine. And I was grateful for it. Sometimes I forgot the way you touch me, then dreams are immediate to come and remind me once again. I would erase all of you from my body if it was possible. There is just too much of them, one on another. Surely knowing you already filled yours with someone else, and moved out your fingers, lips, and teeth to someone else… 

It's unfortunate how my body completely refuses another one too. Unlike you, any part of me is locked by you to others. Maybe it wasn't your intention. You didn't mean to give permanent scars that is mostly invisible. And I can't blame you for it. I really can't. And don't want to. My love was too much for you, too real. And I didn't even used to believe someone's love could be this real and much. I hope somebody I love just as much as I loved you, find me. And this time, I hope they could give me a real love that is rare to find. It's really unnecessary and useless if you don't love the person who has something like this. 

It's just my love, not his. All of this, adore, love, passion, obsession, and care is mine, not his anymore, since he rejected to receive it. And I honestly don't know how to vanish this, because they are not going anywhere but near you over and over again. I tried to leave them with some kind of leash I found, but it's so heavy to carry or with it. I wish you could be mine again. I wish you were never mine. I'm still glad that I know you, but once you taste and like it, now how am I supposed to forget its taste? But if I never recognize its taste, I wouldn't be missing it, even though it was so tasty more than anything I saw and ate in my entire life. The possibility that there is someone better than him is so unreal to me. Some days I'm looking forward, and the future is shining for my good, although when I look at today, the future is unknown and dark because of yesterday. Without him, the reality of my future, aside from an imaginary one, is dark and horrifying, almost makes me want to stay where I am and stop moving forward. I know I should have been over it at least a little bit until now, but still struggling with his absence, still missing his smell and curious about what he is doing, who he hooked up or fell in love. Still hurts. I really wish it wouldn't. I really wish it would be easy for me as how easy it was for you. 

I think i want anyone else other than you  knowing you are no good to me anymore. I don't want another partner like him now. When I look at him, it's undefinably unsettling. He's still the same, but he's too loud. He's having too much alcohol and staying and fucking around with people that are grossing me out. What kind of person I would love, I think. Not sure why i still can’t get this over but guessing this is one of the catches of love. Nothing that outside of your standards will make you unlove him or get the ick. It's weird. How could it be possible? It was the same before memories too. How could it not go away after all that happened? I talked this with one of my friends. I think love is the proof of soul. Because it's too much for explaining rationally. 

And you know, Platon says that your savior must be love if you want to regain your moralness. It makes you have the decision of not to forget anything and pass the river of lethe. This is the way to clear and free the soul from the body. And love is not something you can mark by looking. Which is interesting, because everything humankind does to improve is to stem from mocking others, including nature. So as to understand love as a concept, I believe we should look from another perspective that looks unreachable to us. So we know Platon meant love of knowledge. But the love we put on the table is more complicated than that. There is a common knowledge about pain of love causes from dopamine and the absence of them. And there is sexual consequences top. But I think to dig deeper we need to see how platonic love works. Which includes no interaction or obsession. When love appears as platonic and turns into a real thing and then disappears again, but love stays there: Why is body too resisting for loving the same person nevertheless of bad experiences? When it stops giving dopamine and the absence of the person just makes you suffer. Maybe the one obsessed over the pain at some point.

[pierrai]

Hello!! I have an unusual request—I'm very curious about which ocs of yours would be into branding their s/o!!

Thank you for the request! I've answered this one first because it was easier to write but it was fun! I hope you enjoy ^^ I wasn't sure which OCs you'd want included so I just did all the OCs I thought capable of it!

Character: Multiple Word Count: 1086 Scenario: What OCs would be into branding their S/O? Warnings: Blood, abusive dynamics, implied death

Mira wouldn't intend to brand you at all. He doesn't want to.

He hates hurting people and so intentionally branding you is something he wouldn't even think of while he's still sound of mind, however if you're around him long enough, being 'branded' by him might be something that happens regardless.

You'll find your skin tainted pitch black where he's touched you or where you've touched him. He can't help it—he doesn't want this, please. He'll beg you to leave before it's too late, but it probably is already too late. Why, why didn't he push you away sooner? Why didn't you leave? He got too attached. He liked you far too much and now look what he's caused. His brand is a mark of death.

Though it may not actually get to that point, Eliot would at least think about branding you, especially if the topic comes up at some point.

Any way he can prove he owns you is one he's enamoured by, and though he doesn't want to actively harm you, he selfishly thinks that the small amount of pain it'd cause is worth it for seeing his own personal mark on your skin, and you should think so too. He's thought of simply branding you with his name or the mark of Filomena. Whether he's forsaken his god or not doesn't matter. The crescent moon is his to claim you with.

He wouldn't want to carve the mark into you—he's squeamish when it comes to blood and the sight would probably make him squirm—but using a branding iron would be fine, wouldn't it? If he brought it up... would you get mad at him?

Regardless of how far his fantasies get in his mind, he'll likely never be able to act on them. Luckily for you, his threats are largely empty and his jokes equally so. Unless he thinks he could truly get away with branding you or you bring it up yourself, branding will remain just that: a fantasy.

If your relationship is stable, Haine won't want to brand you. There are other ways he'll happily mark you up that don't hurt as much and aren't as long lasting. After everything you've both been through, leaving a permanent scar on your delicate skin is something that would turn his stomach rather than turn him on.

However if your relationship isn't so stable, he's not opposed to branding you. He hates you but you belong to him. Your mind, body and, most importantly, your soul, all belong to him, and why shouldn't he leave evidence of that?

Maybe he can use his nails or his teeth... bite and carve deep enough that it scars forever and ever. Not like you'll have your body long enough for it to matter, but you're fine with that, aren't you? Even when every piece of you is gone—when you've rotted to nothing but dust, your soul a part of him and your entire being reduced to nothing but a memory to him and him alone—he wants to make his mark on you before that happens.

He's not buying time. He's not delaying what he original intended to do with you. He simply hates you, and he wants you to suffer as much as you possibly can before he finally erases you into nothingness.

Damien's way of branding you is indistinguishable to anything else he already does to you. You probably wouldn't even be able to tell that branding you was his intention if it wasn't for the elated way he told you that was what he wanted. There's no point asking him why he suddenly thought of it. You were well aware by now that Damien was simply sick and twisted and his degeneracy was only amplified when you were involved.

He'll want to cut into you with a scalpel, his preferred choice of medical apparatus. A nice sharp blade that allows him the most delicate of cuts. He can carve whatever he wants, it doesn't matter. He just wants to enjoy the tenderness of your skin as it splits open, the hotness of your blood when it spills over his fingers. He wants to see your insides. They belong to him.

He won't go overboard and leave you tattered with cuts and scars—he's not a sadist, he gleefully tells you—he just wants one area of your skin to cut into and leave a nice scar on purpose. Though he usually only makes incisions for experimental purposes, this one has no other purpose but to entertain him and you. He wants to feel the thrill of leaving a very intentional mark on you. He wants to watch your expression when the blade sinks in, wants to smear blood across your lips and kiss them. The way he cuts up his cadavers and living subjects is calculated and cold, but this is an expression of his love.

You won't need to worry about it getting infected. He's a doctor. He'll make sure it heals up into a nice satisfying scar.

The thought of branding you will naturally cross Alastor's mind at some point. He's possessive and controlling, and he'd simply love to leave his mark on you somehow.

It doesn't have to be a painful way of marking you so to speak. He's perfectly content marking you up with hickeys when you're being intimate with each other. He'll suddenly become eager to trail kisses down your jaw and neck instead of kissing your lips.

He's left hickeys on his one-night-stands before, but usually only one. For a while, doing so was a way for him to amuse himself. He liked watching his partners have to carefully cover up their shame. For you, however, he wants to leave as many as possible in places you can't always cover. He wants people to see that you're his.

If he's feeling especially jealous or possessive, he'll bite you instead. He doesn't care if you protest. He wants this mark to last.

You best hope you don't ever upset him too much, or he just might start thinking of more permanent ways of proving you belong to him. Hickeys will eventually fade, but a brand from a branding iron won't. He should brand you with his own version of his family's emblem. How would you like that?

It might sound like a threat to scare you at first, but if Al suddenly starts investing in an artist or a blacksmith, you might want to start with some damage control.

[learn-fundamentals-of-success]

Plasticity of Possibilities: How Brain Plasticity Shapes Beliefs and Personal Development

Before understanding how the brain works, we need to understand the properties and behavior of our brain. For example, you pass through an experience and the experience needs to create a permanent scar (marks) on the mind. I would say you do not completely pass through the experience, a residue of that experience is left and the residue of the experience is called conditioning.

Have you ever heard about the property of the material called Elasticity, For Example when a rubber or plastic is banned (stretched) and released, it comes back to its previous shape called elasticity. Just like elasticity brain has an almost similar property in that it keeps registering everything. Every experience that the brain goes through leaves a permanent scar or mark on it. This is called the plasticity of the brain. The plasticity itself is a source of conditioning.

Think like this, whatever happens to you in days in or days out, every single experience leaves a scar, a mark, a stain on the mind, this is called conditioning. Now you have a clear understanding of brain conditioning and plasticity.

If you don’t try to help yourself if you don’t understand yourself and do not find out who you are actually, the original version of you then nothing will change. Like your family background, how you’re brought up, or even a single incident of a road accident that happened many years ago in front of you and you see people are not helping others which makes you believe that society is so cruel.

If you don’t try to help yourself if you don’t understand yourself and did not find out who you are actually, the original version of you then nothing will change.

So, you pass through an experience, what does this experience give, it provides knowledge. So, now you understand the brain, you should understand the knowledge also. Knowledge is the mark of any experience in memory. You go through an experience and the memory of that experience is called knowledge one thing you must remember is all knowledge is necessarily from the past.

Before we understand how the brain works, we need to understand the properties and behavior of our brain. For example, you pass through an experience and the experience needs to create a permanent scar (marks) on the mind. I would say you do not completely pass through the experience, a residue of that experience is left and the residue of the experience is called conditioning.

A memory is a recollection of a sequence of events, which is called knowledge whereas that knowledge is not the data, not the information but it is leaving a permanent mark on the thinking process itself, which is called conditioning.

For Example, you normally hear that the first boy in your class has very good knowledge, why? Because every year he or she scored the highest marks in exams? This is not because of knowledge but because of the information, he gathered for his exam. Now you differentiate between knowledge and information.

For example, in childhood, you have a bad experience when you are playing with a dog and you have negative thinking about dogs that every dog is harmful. Till the time you see other kids playing and enjoying themselves with dogs. Till the time you did not try to play with dogs and did not try to modify your belief, you may live with this conditioning that “every dog is harmful”. But the reality is not every dog is harmful.

It was the situation that makes you feel that way but the reality is different. It is very hard to overcome or modify any belief that you have because it is a reality to you at that moment. Later in this blog, I will provide you with some tools to do this step by step.

This is the reason why when you slowly try to modify your belief that sits inside you, you will get a strong resistance from your inside because one portion of your brain does not like to change or does not want to come out of your comfort zone.

[poisonedapples]

Murder was never Husk’s sin of choice.

Sure, that all changed when he went to Hell. Demons down here aren’t exactly known for being civil, and death is only permanent when it’s by an angel’s blade. Killing a rowdy patron at his casino was the Earth equivalent of putting a soul in time out. You pissed me off, now go regenerate over in the corner until you’ve learned your lesson. Blood isn’t the scary sight it used to be.

But in life? He never killed. Sure, that didn’t mean he was innocent. Far from it, he did a lot of shit that ruined lives in a way that was maybe worse than death. He was a thief, a fraud, a scammer. He’s sure his actions indirectly killed more people than he’d care to admit. He’s taken a lot from plenty. In a place full of sinners from across the centuries, Husk is long past the point of judging serial killers.

It’s why he used to be friends with one. A cannibalistic one, to boot. But that’s neither here nor there.

He assumes Alastor is different than most murderers. More vicious, maybe, if his whole Radio Demon schtick means anything. He assumes most serial killers don’t eat their victims, so maybe that makes him scarier. Husk has no clue. Alastor just feels…different. He sticks out so much, while staying so hard to read even after decades. But who knows. Maybe Husk just spends too much time around him. The only pastime he has while in Alastor’s control is studying him, anyway.

Being around Alastor feels like what Husk imagines being held in a serial killer’s basement feels like. At first, yeah, sure, it’s terrifying. Cry and shit your pants kind of terrifying. Banging your head against the brick walls in hopes to end it sooner kind of terrifying. But then a decade passes. And another. And another. And you just…get used to it.

Alastor feels different because, at one point, Husk started to see him as human. Which, okay, no one down here is human. Demons condemned to eternal damnation and all that. But still. Even ignoring the whole demons in Hell thing, murderers have always felt like distant monsters. Their violent actions don’t feel real. Not like something a person could do. Someone who killed was nothing more than a villain in Husk’s story of misfortune. They didn’t have redeeming qualities.

When Husk sold his soul, him and Alastor stopped being friends. No shit. There’s only so many times a guy can hold you by the chain around your neck and leave you suffocating before you stop liking him very much. He became Alastor’s main source of amusement. A punching bag, something he could break and break and break until the pain of his own chain being yanked became a distant memory. Until Alastor felt like the Radio Demon again.

He was easy to hate. The concept of Stockholm Syndrome never made sense to Husk before and it sure as shit didn’t now. Husk has had some fucked up relationships in his life but he still didn’t approve of this. Being stabbed, beat, eaten. Claw marks under his chin from Alastor fucking petting him. Patches of feathers missing because Alastor yanked at them like a rowdy toddler with no fine motor skills. Broken bones. The screams Husk let out that Alastor so kindly decided not to broadcast.

Hell didn’t really feel like Hell until now.

So Husk hates him. An evil-ass piece of shit with a God complex and a habit of enjoying human suffering. It’s been decades, Husk still vomits when he has to watch one of Alastor’s broadcasts, how can someone human even be capable of enjoying that shit?

He doesn’t know. But he wishes he could still see Alastor as a monster.

Because now, he knows too much to think of him as anything but human.

It was pitch black outside, and Alastor and Husk were drunk on a bunch of bottles of whiskey. Alastor tells Husk how much he misses his mom, and Husk swears to never tell anyone.

Alastor likes the same jazz artists that he does. Granted, Husk was still a kid when Alastor died listening to them, but talking about the music he grew up on has always been Husk’s weak spot.

Alastor’s smile is fake. Most of the time. With Niffty, it’s not. Mimzy doesn’t deserve a second of Alastor’s good graces, but Husk can only try to warn him so many times about toxic friends before Alastor gets violent.

Him and Vox’s falling out was…pretty shitty, on Vox’s end. Husk pushes him a glass of rye from across the bar counter and tries to explain to this old-fashioned guy why boundaries are important. Just because Vox is a man doesn’t mean he gets to act like that.

Alastor died in his thirties. Husk has a soft spot for the souls that got taken young.

Alastor is desperate for power because he doesn’t know what will happen to him if he’s weak. Husk has to explain to him what a panic attack feels like.

And worst of all, Husk is patching himself up on the floor of Alastor’s new home. It’s the place they’re staying in while Alastor’s on what he calls a “sabbatical”. Husk calls it Hell part two, because Alastor’s temper has been worse now than it ever was before. Which is saying something.

He’s patching up the giant bite ripped out of his thigh when Alastor walks back in through the front door. His smile is crooked, desperate. His neck is bruised in a way that’s only caused by a soul chain. Alastor sits down next to him, and Husk flinches when he lays a hand on his shoulder. But he doesn’t scratch him. Just relishes in the comfort, and the shadows in the room dance around him, worried about their demented leader.

Husk starts humming old jazz tunes. When Alastor relaxes, Husk feels himself relax too.

So, yeah.

Maybe Stockholm Syndrome isn’t that confusing after all.

I need more of Husk being horrifically abused by Alastor. This is a neglected market that needs to be tapped into more