#writing like a madman

[black-suns-rim]

The Child

This is part two of the Ethereal Star AU story. You can find part one here

Word count: about 10,100

The soft chirping of birds echoed off the walls of the temple. A cool breeze blew through the stone pillars and the long cloth banners that hung from the wall gently swung back and forth. As the sun slowly rose over the mountain of clouds that overcast the village below, slowly, the villagers woke.

Daleth rolled to his side, being woken up by a ray of light shining on his face. Stiffly, he sat up while sighing. He reached his hand out to his night stand, feeling around for his mask but he couldn’t find it. He stood up and walked to the curtains that were holding back the sun’s warm rays and opened up a flood of light that illuminated his whole room. He went back to his night stand but didn’t find his mask. He realized his staff was missing too.

“Alef!” Daleth shouted as he left his room. He went to the remaining windows, opening the curtains of the small hut. “Alef!” he shouted again. He almost tripped over when the small child ran past his legs, “I am the light protector!” Alef giggled as he swung around Daleth’s oversized staff, trying to keep the large mask from falling off of his face. Daleth smiled, “Light protector, may I have my staff and mask back?”

“The light protector needs the staff and mask to fight the evil light snatchers!” Alef swung the staff around more before losing his balance and falling on his butt.

“Well, light protector, the light guider needs the staff and mask for his daily duties.” Daleth spoke softly as he squatted down and held out his hand. “Fine..” Alef handed the mask and staff to Daleth.

“Wash up Little Ember, a full day is ahead of you.”

“Aw, but I thought today I wasn't going to do anything.” Alef pouted.

“Tomorrow is your day of rest.” He sat down on a nearby chair, of which had his shoes under it, “I need you to do your daily chores. Once you are done with those, come to me and I'll give you something else to do if you complete them before it's time for your lessons at the prairie temple.” He places his shoes on.

Alef sighed, “fine..” He washed his face and prepared for the day. As usual, he had breakfast with Daleth at the village's small café. Once he was done, he went off on his own to do his chores in the village.

Help the merchants open their stands, clean out the manta stables and many other smaller tasks around the village that the residents needed help with. Once he was all done, it was about mid morning. He sat at a bench, eating a snack he got from one of the vendors he helped.

“Alef!” Kizuna ran over to him, “Good morning!” She gave him a hug and sat right next to him on the bench, “where'd you get that?” She gestured to his snack.

“I got it from one of the vendors. I helped him and he gave me this.” He handed her a piece and she took it.

“I got all my chores done, how about you?” She swung her legs back and forth as she ate the snack.

“Yeah, all of mine are done. I'm just taking a break. Daleth said I need to go to him after I'm done though.”

“Me and Veluboga are gonna sneak into the caves when she's done with her chores. You wanna come with us?”

“What? But we aren't supposed to go in them.” alef looked at her. She had a big smile on her face.

“But do you ever wonder what they look like inside? My big brother said there's murals all over the walls in the deepest parts of the cave where they rest before going into the trials.”

“I mean yeah, I do wonder, but we will see how they look eventually.” He finished eating his snack.

“C'mon, you're not a coward, are you? It will be fun!” She hopped off the bench and pulled on his arm, “c'mon, c'mon! I wanna see if Veluboga is done yet!” Alef hopped off the bench so he wouldn't fall from Kizuna tugging on him. They ran to Veluboga's place and knocked on the door. A chubby and tired looking father opened the door.

“Is Veluboga done with her chores?” Kizuna asked.

“Yeah,” He yawned, “she's just helping me feed her brother right now.” He stepped out of the way of the door to let Alef and Kizuna in. The two of them entered the home as the father closed the door behind them. They walked over to Veluboga who was giggling at how her baby brother was eating his porridge. It covered his face and was dripping down his chin. The father walked over, grabbing a cloth and wiped it all off, “your friends are here.”

Veluboga looked over to where her dad gestured. She ran over to Kizuna and Alef, giving them both hugs, “Hi guys!”

“Are you ready for an adventure today?” Kizuna couldn't keep still.

“Yeah!” Veluboga grabbed a small brown bag. It held various items in it. Kizuna grabbed her hand and started to head out.

“Don't get too far from the village. Be safe and be back by sundown.” Her dad said as he was feeding the baby.

“Ok, love you daddy!”

“Love you too, my little flower petal.”

They left the home and began their little journey to the camp outside of the trial caves. It was about a mile from the village, but still in sight of the residents. They stopped at a large boulder to take a break from walking. Veluboga was out of breath. She was a bit on the chunky side, but she had been losing weight ever since Alef arrived to the village.

“Did you bring water? I'm thirsty.” She asked both Alef and Kizuna.

“no…” Kizuna looked at her bag, “what did you bring with you?”

“uh, some sweet buns and toys.” She pulled out a bun from her bag. It wasn't wrapped or anything, “You guys want one?”

Alef made a slightly disgusted expression under his mask as Kizuna took it, “You didn't wrap them up? They're gonna get stale and covered in hair.”

Veluboga shrugged and Kizuna ate the bread, “Do you have water Alef?” Veluboga asked.

“No, I'm not even carrying anything on me.”

“oh…” She looked through her bag, “Bun?” She pulled one out.

“I'm good.” Alef turned his gaze to the camp outside of the cave and got an idea, “You know, they might have water.” He pointed at the camp.

“But what if there are people there?” Kizuna was worried about being caught.

“They are usually up and training in the caves by now. Daleth has taken me to the camp before, but he's never taken me inside of the caves.” Kizuna trusted Alef's words, “Alright.”

The three of them headed towards the camp, and like Alef had said, no one was there. The morning camp fire that was used for cooking breakfast was still trailing out smoke had just recently been put out. Alef snuck around the tents, looking for where some water might be stashed. His two friends trailed close behind him. He snuck into one of the large tents while Kizuna and Veluboga stayed outside of it, not daring to go in.

Alef came out with a large stone carved bottle and handed it to Veluboga, “Here's your water.” She took it and began to chug the water down. Once she was done, Alef placed the stone bottle back where he found it.

“Alright, back to our main mission: the caves!” Kizuna grabbed both Alef's and Veluboga's hands, almost dragging them. Once they got to the large entrance of the cave, they stood in front of it for a while.

“Well… are we gonna go in?” Alef stared into the dark cave.

“Yeah… but… I don't like how I can't see in it.” Kizuna was still holding their hands. Her's was getting sweaty which made Alef cringe.

“I don't like the dark Kizuna…” Veluboga wanted to stay back from the creeping darkness.

Alef sighed, “We came all this way out here. I'm not gonna just stand here and look at the cave entrance.” He let go of Kizuna's hand and went into the pitch dark of the cave. Kizuna and Veluboga watched as the dark swallowed him. Suddenly, the cave entrance lit up. The two girls gasp, “Whoa!”

Alef was in awe, “Cool.” He looked back at Kizuna and Veluboga, “Well, aren't you two coming?” He said with a little sass. They both ran to catch up with him. The cave got colder the further in they ventured and it felt uncomfortably moist, as if there was a constant mist. Alef stopped When they got to a stone bridge that was surrounded by clouds on either side.

“I can't see the end of that bridge… and it's not lit up.” He was skeptical of it.

“It's probably fine to walk across it.” Veluboga took a couple of steps towards it before Alef stopped her.

“No, I have a feeling. Hold on…” He grabbed a large rock and threw it at the bridge but it phased right through the bridge as if the bridge didn't exist.

“Uh…” Kizuna was confused, “What-?”

“The bridge must be an illusion.” Alef sat on the floor.

“Wait, how? Why? Why would there be a fake bridge?” Kizuna sat with him and Veluboga did the same.

“I don't know.”

“There has to be another way to get to the other side… if there is one. I can't see anything with those clouds.”

Alef thought for a while, “illusion magic is one of the most simple magics out of the others. I remember a lesson from my teacher, saying how to create an illusion and to break one. I failed at creating one during the lesson, but maybe I can break this one.” He stood up.

“I keep forgetting you have lessons. You're so lucky.” Kizuna and Veluboga kept seated on the floor.

Alef was sloppy with his stance, but he was doing his best from memory. He concentrated on the bridge illusion as he moved his hands from side to side. Kizuna and Veluboga started to chuckle which broke Alef's concentration.

“What's so funny?” He looked back at them.

“You. You look like you have a wedgie.” Kizuna laughed.

“I'm trying my best here!” Alef was a little embarrassed. He sighed and tried again but Veluboga and Kizuna busted out laughing.

“Can you just look away from me while I try to do this!?” He was getting a little frustrated.

“Alright, alright.” Kizuna and Veluboga were still chuckling as they turned their backs to Alef. Once more he tried. He took a deep breath in and then out. He moved his hands from side to side with his feet following the movement of his hands, trying to build up energy - a trick for students who are new to magic use.

Slowly, his hands began to glow yellow. It was very dim but still noticeable. He held his hands out in front of himself and then put them together. He pulled them in towards his chest and then quickly put them out. The dim yellow light that was coming from his hands brightened rapidly as it was forced away from his body and towards the illusion. The illusion broke along with the clouds that were surrounding the bridge, revealing they too were fake. It was like watching golden sparkles fall from the sky.

“Whoa! I actually did it!” Alef smiled under his mask. Veluboga and Kizuna turned around, “Whoa!”

All three of them stared at what was revealed. The bridge illusion led to a deep pit filled with clouds. Alef's heart sank at the sight, his mind raced thinking of what could've happened to Veluboga if she had tried to walk on the bridge. Or any of them. But he also saw a small path that followed the cave's wall.

“Look, a path there!” Alef pointed out, “and it leads further Into the cave.”

The three of them took the path. When they reached the end of it, lights in the cave had already been lit and they could hear faint voices.

“We must be getting close!” Kizuna was excited.

“Shh! They might hear us now.” Alef hushed and she quickly quieted down.

The walls of the cave grew more narrow as they headed towards the voices. They stopped when they saw light murals appear on the walls.

“Whoa!” They all said in unison. Smiles grew on their faces but only Veluboga's was visible since she hasn't been given her mask yet, being the youngest of the three. They pointed, stared and giggled as they ran down the narrow cave hallway, triggering the light murals as they passed. They stopped when they came across a large stone door that was open. They could hear the voices more clearly now, so they became quiet. What they didn't realize was how loud their giggling had been while they were walking down the narrow hallway.

They slowly went towards the open doorway, looking down a ledge that led to a huge open cavern below. The cavern walls were covered in light murals from top to bottom. And on the ground, there were 4 different groups of young adults. They were all being trained by the different elemental prophets. They watched the groups being trained, giggling and whispering in the process. Some of the young adults had noticed the three little kids at the top of the entrance to the cavern but didn't mention anything to the prophets since they didn't want to interrupt their teaching.

They watched for about 15 minutes before mimicking what the students were doing. They played for a while, not noticing how the giant stone door closed, “What are young embers like you doing here?”

The kids immediately stopped their playing and looked to where the voice came from. They saw a very tall, slender and intimidating figure. They fell silent and held still, slightly frightened.

“I'm surprised you got past my illusion.” He began to walk towards the kids before realizing they were scared of him. He stopped and then squatted down to try to seem less intimidating.

“You know you little embers shouldn't be in my trials just yet, right?” Anubis tried to sound more light hearted and gave a faint smile which was barely visible.

“It was my idea! I just wanted to see the murals I heard about.” Alef spoke up to take the blame for Kizuna since it was her idea originally.

“You, you broke my illusion?” Anubis already knew the answer to the question, but he wanted to hear it from Alef.

“y-yeah…” He sheeply answered, “Am I in trouble?...”

“No, not at all.” The elder prophet stood up, “I'm just surprised someone as young as you was able to break that large of an illusion. I'm more so impressed. You must take lessons, yes?”

Alef nodded.

“How about this, I give all three of you a lesson and you head back to the village afterwards? And you young embers don't come back here until it is your time, yeah?”

All three of them nodded. They just didn't want to get in trouble. They were still intimidated by him.

“Good. Come along, the cave hall isn't wide enough for what I have in mind.” He held his hands behind his back as he walked past the three. They looked at each other and then followed the tall and slender prophet. He was leading them to the outside of the cave.

“Um, I have a question…” Alef spoke up.

“Yes?” Anubis answered, not turning his head.

“Why did you make a fake bridge over a cliff?”

“So it would keep curious embers, like you, out. At the bottom, under the clouds, there's a waypoint I created that will send you back to the outside of the cave, unharmed.”

“A waypoint?” Alef wanted to know more.

“Yes.. it's advanced magic. A waypoint can be used for many things. I use it as a safety net. Some use it as a way to keep others out of places.”

“Whoa.. cool.” Alef thought for a little bit before speaking up again, “Are you a teacher or a prophet?”

“I'm both. Though, I do more teaching.”

“How long have you been teaching?”

“Centuries. Before the realms were formed.”

“You must be really old!” Veluboga blurted out. Alef elbowed her, “ow!”

Anubis chuckled, “Yes, I am really old.”

“You don't look old though.” Veluboga was rubbing her arm and glaring at Alef.

“My prophets and I don't age like most people do.”

“Why?” The three kids asked.

“Well, I'm not all too sure actually. But I assume it's because we have a higher purpose given to us by the star mother. She decides our path, but it's our will to fulfill it.”

The kids were starting to become less afraid of him and began to ask more questions. He didn't mind answering what he could. Once they were outside of the cave, he led the kids to the camp.

“Have you three eaten anything recently?” Anubis entered one of the tents and the kids followed.

“We've only had breakfast.” Kizuna stared at all the masks that were hanging from the tent's support beams.

“Then you must be hungry by now. It's almost noon.” He levitated some baskets around to get to a large crate. He levitated a couple of fruits from the crate and then placed the baskets back where they previously were. He handed them the fruit.

They thanked him and ate. When they were done, they followed him out of the tent. He had pulled out a couple of mats and placed them on the ground.

“So, what are you going to teach us?” Kizuna asked as she looked up at Anubis.

“Physical balance.” He sat on one of the mats, “But first, we stretch. Mirror what I do.”

The kids sat in front of him on the mats. He directed them on what stretches to do while showing them. He also explained how to properly stretch. After they were warmed up, he began his little lesson on balance. Kizuna had incredible balance while Alef and Veluboga were wobbly. They fell over a few times while trying to copy Anubis.

By the time he was done teaching them, the sun was high in the sky and it was beginning to get hot. He handed the kids some water as they rested in the cool tents.

“You young embers did good.” Anubis placed the mats back where he pulled them from.

“We kept falling down.” Alef sighed.

“Yes, but you got back up and tried again, didn't you? A good student isn't one who succeeds all the time. A good student is one who keeps trying even after they fail. It's what helps you grow. If you aren't failing, you aren't being challenged. And if you're not challenged, you won't be able to grow.”

Alef thought about that for a bit, “yeah.. I guess that makes sense. Wait, what time is it?” Alef almost forgot about his lessons he needed to go to.

“Noon. So, about 12pm.” Anubis drank some water.

“Oh no! I have to go! I'll see you guys later.” He quickly hugged his friends and ran to the village as fast as he could. Anubis chuckled as he watched Alef run off.

Once he reached the village, Alef looked for Daleth. He saw him at the boat docs and ran over to him. He was out of breath as he reached Daleth.

“Alef! Where have you been? You are late!” Daleth scolded.

“I'm sorry…” He looked down at his feet. Daleth sighed, “Get on the boat.” He gestured to a small stone boat. Alef got on. Daleth handed him a bag that held his school items in it, “Behave yourself. I'll see you later tonight.”

“Wait, will I be in trouble?..”

“No. You just need to be more aware of your time next time Alef.”

“Okay…”

Daleth set the boat to its course - the prairie light temple. Alef sat alone on the small boat. He took off his mask and wiped away the sweat from his face. His once happy mood turned to sadness. Not because of Daleth's scolding. He sat on the boat's floor, pulling his knees to his chest and hugged his legs. He rested his face on his knees.

“I miss you momma…” He whispered to himself.

𓆩✧𓆪

The sun was beginning to set on Prairie. The air was rapidly growing colder and the animals retreated to their homes. Alef held a small lantern in his hands that kept him warm as he tried not to fall asleep. His lessons from today were more active compared to the others he’s had in the past and with what he did this morning, he was so ready to go to bed. He didn’t want to pass out on the boat while on his way back home to the village since he knew Daleth wouldn’t be able to carry him back to the small hut they shared.

His eyelids were heavy and slowly they were weighing down. Alef shook his head and smacked his face to try and get rid of the sleepiness. He looked at the hills of prairie as his boat passed by them. The setting sun was creeping behind the horizon which made the outline of the hills glow a bright yellow. The last bit of mantas were flying towards their nests high up in the cliffs and floating islands. He watched as the sun vanished from sight, leaving its warm remnants on the clouds.

Alef’s mind began to drift to memories of his mother and all the stories she would tell…

𓆩✧𓆪

𓆩✧𓆪

𓆩✧𓆪

“Can you tell me about the story of the manta and butterfly again?”

“Again? Don’t you have this story memorized by now, my little star?” she picked up the small child and tickled his side. He giggled and squealed.

“I wanna hear it again!”

“Alright.” She sat down and grabbed out a small stone carved manta and butterfly from a bag after placing the child down.

“There once was a manta who would soar up high in the clouds. She would race with her friends and play all day where the stars met the clouds.” she handed the child the carved manta, “One day, she found a butterfly high up in the clouds. ‘What are you doing here little butterfly?’ the manta asked, and the butterfly replied, ‘I wanted to explore! But I don't know where to go.’ “

“And the manta said, ‘follow me! I can show you many cool places!’ “ the child held up the manta in the air. The mother chuckled.

“And so, the manta led the butterfly through all the realms, showing them all the cool places where her friends often visited.” the mother held up the butterfly and waved it in the air, “As the sun began to set, the manta and the butterfly rested on the floating islands of the green prairie. ‘Thank you manta for showing me all these places.’ the butterfly said to their new friend.”

“ ‘you’re welcome little butterfly!’ “ the child giggled. He held out his hand for the carved butterfly and his mother gave it to him, “And now I eat you! Raaah!” He hit the two carved toys together.

“That’s not how the story ends.” She chuckled.

“Yes it is! That's how it ends tonight!” he laughed. She shook her head, “you’re so silly.” she began coughing hard and held her side.

“Momma!” He dropped his toys and immediately grabbed her bag. He pulled out a small jar and handed it to her. She took off her mask and grabbed the jar, opening it while she coughed. She scooped out a small portion of thick paste and put it in her mouth. Her coughing became less and less until she had completely stopped.

“Thank you my little Alef.” she put her mask back on. Alef hugged his mother and she hugged him back, “Everything is going to be okay.” she tried to reassure him.

“Is everything good back there?” A deep voice asked. Alef’s mother stood up, moving the cloth curtains out of her way as Alef clung to her side.

“Yes, everything’s fine.” She looked at the birostrian and then at the dark night sky.

“We are almost to our next stop. We have maybe two more hours of travel to go. You and your little ember should get some rest while you can.”

Alef looked at the sandy dunes. He noticed some small glowing embers off in the distance. He then looked at the lanterns that were hung from the decorated caravan. The same embers that flew around freely in the sandy dunes were the same embers that were trapped within those lanterns that lit up their dark path. He then looked up to his mother, “I'm not tired yet.” He quietly said.

“I am. We can stay up a little longer, but we need to sleep soon Alef…

Alef…

Alef…

Alef!”

Alef woke up and rubbed his eyes. Daleth had his hand on his shoulder, “Tiring day?” he chuckled.

“I fell asleep?” Alef put his mask on and groggily grabbed his bag.

“Yep. And you were out cold. I would’ve carried you if I were able to.” He helped Alef out of the boat. It was completely dark in the village except for some lanterns lighting in the pathways. Clouds were starting to roll in, “It’s gonna rain tonight.” Daleth held Alef’s hand as he walked him to their hut, “Are you hungry at all?”

“No. I ate before I left the temple.” he yawned.

“Okay, good. You should bathe before you sleep tonight. You seem like you have sweated a lot.”

“Yeah…”

As they entered the hut, Alef could smell what Daleth had cooked earlier. It smelled like the spicy stew he would always prepare the night before Alef had a day of rest. Daleth helped the tired kid prepare a warm bath. He left the bathing room once the bath was ready. Alef took off all of his clothes and stepped into the warm bath tub. He sat down and splashed the water on his face, making sure to remove all of the dried sweat and dirt from himself.

He washed his short hair and scrubbed his whole body. Once he was done cleaning himself, he laid back in the water. Alef sighed. He noticed some embers fluttering around in the bathroom. He reached out his hand towards them and they fluttered near him. He watched as they danced in the air. A smile creeped onto his face as he moved his hand around - the embers followed. They fluttered away after a while.

Alef got out of the bathtub once his hands began to prune up. He dried himself off with the towel Daleth left for him and he changed into his night clothes. He picked up all his dirty clothes and carried them out of the bathroom. He went to his small room and placed the dirty clothes in the corner of his room. Walking out of his room, he peeked into Daleth’s room to see if he was in there. Daleth had fallen asleep while Alef was taking his bath.

The child walked outside of the small hut and sat on the porch. He wished he was still tired but now he was wide awake. He looked up at the sky that was now covered in clouds. He shivered as the wind blew. He went back inside to grab his cloak and went outside again. He pulled his hood over his head as the wind blew gently. He pulled his legs up to his chest, hugging his legs. As he was thinking about the day, it began to rain.

Alef held his hand out, letting the rain droplets touch his skin. He didn’t want to stay at the hut, but he also knew he shouldn’t roam the village at night by himself. He couldn’t wake Daleth up, he knew he would get mad that he wasn’t in bed. Alef’s eyes began to water up, he tried holding back the tears but once they started to fall down his cheeks, he couldn’t stop them. Sniffling, he wiped away the tears from his face as he tried not to cry too loudly.

“I want you mommy…” He whimpered quietly to himself. Soon, his sleeves became covered in snot from him wiping his nose and tears, “I want you back… I miss you so much.” He stood up. He couldn’t stand to be at the hut right now. Alef ran out of the village as the rain poured heavily. He ran and ran, having no destination in mind but his legs led him to the prophecy cave where he and his friend had been earlier in the day.

He didn't go too far into the cave before his legs gave out and he collapsed onto the floor, crying and out of breath. He sat with his back towards the wall, his face was buried in his knees while he hugged his legs tightly. He sobbed loudly as he hyperventilated. He didn't realize how loud he was since he thought he was alone. A cloaked and slender being slowly approached the crying child and kneeled down in front of him.

“Little ember?” the voice spoke softly but with concern. Alef looked up with blurry vision but he recognized the voice. It was the teacher of the trials. Alef leapt forward and clung to the slender prophet. Anubis didn’t know what to do besides hug the child. He slightly cringed, feeling the snot and tears seep through his clothes. Once alef calmed down, he let go of the prophet.

“What has you so troubled little ember?”

Alef sniffled, “I- I miss my m-mommy… I w-want her back…” he wiped his face.

“I see…”

“I don't want to be here. I want to go home to my old village with my old friends. But I'm stuck here…” his cheeks were sore from the salty tears running down his face. He hugged Anubis again without saying anything. The prophet patted his back as Alef continued to sniffle. When Alef completely stopped, Anubis noticed his hug weakened.

“Little ember?” Anubis nudged. Then he realized the child had cried so much that it had tired him out to the point he passed out.

“Oh boy…” He didn't know who was in charge of this child, but he knew he shouldn’t leave him all by himself in the cave. He picked up the child and kept him safe from the rain under his cloak as he walked out of the cave. Anubis headed to the camp, walking into the tent he shared with the other four prophets.

“So, who was crying?” the prophet of water looked up from a card game she was playing with the prophet of fire.

“This little guy.” Anubis took off his cloak, revealing the small child who was sleeping in his arm.

“Oh sweet star mother, a kid?” she got up, “Hand that poor thing to me.” Anubis handed Alef to her.

“I believe his mother was the traveler that had passed away in the village nearby just a couple weeks ago. He told me he missed her, and I don’t blame him.” Anubis sat down.

“Aw, poor little ember.” The fire prophet assumed the water prophet was done playing cards since she was occupied with holding Alef.

“He must be having a hard time adjusting if he came all the way out here in the rain, crying. Oh you poor baby.” The water prophet sat down gently, making sure she wouldn’t wake up Alef.

“Wow, I haven't seen you this motherly in a long time.” the fire prophet chuckled as he put the cards away.

“Hush you.” she playfully smacked him.

“So, what are we gonna do with the kid? I mean, we can’t just wake up that entire village.” The fire prophet stretched his arms and back.

“We wait until the morning. Either he wakes up and leaves on his own or we will hear a panicked guardian looking for him.” Anubis took off his mask and placed it right by his sleeping mat.

“Yeah, that sounds reasonable.” the fire prophet laid on his sleeping mat, “well, I’m gonna sleep now. Night guys.”

“Good night.” Anubis and water prophet said.

“We might as well sleep too.” Anubis laid back on his mat.

“Yeah…” the water prophet gently placed Alef on her sleeping mat and pulled a blanket over him.

“You wouldn't mind if I laid right next to you, Anubis?” The water prophet took off her mask and dimmed the light in the tent.

“No. You know we’ve been friends for long enough that you don’t have to ask, right?” he chuckled.

“I know, but I still like to make sure.” she placed her mask right next to his and laid right next to him, “I hope this kid can find peace. It always makes my heart ache to see a little ember hurt from loss.”

“I hope he can find peace too… Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

As the rain pelted the tent’s roof, all the prophets fell asleep to its soothing sound.

𓆩✧𓆪

Before the sun rose, Alef woke up to the sweet smell of burning incense. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, a little confused on where he was. He glanced around, realizing he was in a tent. It was oddly warm in the tent...

“Sleep well, young ember?” A familiar voice asked. Alef quickly turned his head to where the voice came from. The slender Prophet was tending to a small fire that had a pot hanging over it. Alef got up to sit right next to Anubis. They sat in silence for a while before Alef spoke up.

“I don't want to go back…”

Anubis looked down at the kid, “You can't stay here forever. You'll worry your guardian.”

Alef sighed. He looked up at Anubis who didn't have his mask on. His face had a large scar across it that went from the left side of his forehead down to the right side of his cheek. His eyes looked tired but relaxed. Alef looked around the tent, seeing all the other Prophets were still asleep.

“If it is your wish to stay here a little longer, you may. But when the people of that little village come looking for you, you must return to them. I will not hide you here.”

“okay.” Alef spoke quietly. He watched the flames of the fire dance around, swaying and flickering.

“Will I ever stop missing my momma?..”

Anubis frowned, “No. A part of you will always miss her. But that doesn't mean you'll always feel like how you do now. Over time, the pain will fade, but it will never leave.” He patted Alef's head to try and comfort him.

“That doesn't mean you won't find someone else to look up to like you did for her. No one can replace her, but someone can fill her parental role.”

Alef scooted right next to Anubis and leaned against him. He just wanted to be held… he wanted someone to hold him. And badly. Anubis put an arm around him. He could tell Alef was hurting.

They sat in silence while Anubis waited for the breakfast to cook. Once it was ready, the other prophets were already awake. Anubis gave Alef a bowl of the hot grainy paste that had been cooking. It didn't look too appetizing, but it smelt really good. He tried it and was surprised by how sweet it was. As the prophets ate, they chatted while Alef kept quiet.

“A new day, a new headache.” The fire prophet said as he opened up the tent door to the rising sun.

“Oh come on, the students aren't that bad.” The air prophet was finishing up their breakfast.

“Try having my group. They are so immature.”

“Aren't all young adults immature?” Anubis chuckled.

“I swear they are worse than the last batch you assigned to me.” The fire prophet took the flames from the firepit in their tent and used his magic to light the other fire pits around the camp without having to move too far from their tent.

“Well today is the last day of their training before they start the sacred trials tomorrow. You won't have to deal with them much longer.” The water prophet said as she was cleaning out the pot the breakfast was cooked in.

“And thank the great star mother for that. You'll have to deal with them.” He chuckled.

She sighed, “Don't remind me.”

The other prophets laughed. Alef's gaze went from one prophet to the next as they spoke to each other. He finished up his bowl and handed it to the water prophet. Without saying anything, Alef walked up to Anubis and hugged his leg. He looked down and placed a hand on Alef's head. The other prophets glanced over at them.

Alef let go and walked out of the tent. He was ready to head back to the village, and so, he left.

“That little guy really likes you.” The water prophet observed.

“I noticed… Usually, young embers are afraid of me. Most likely because of the mask, right?”

“Yeah, the mask will do it.” The earth prophet walked past him, “I know mine's pretty terrifying to young embers.”

The prophets and the overseer began to start their day in the camp. The last bit of lessons they were about to provide their students was the key in helping them to succeed in the ritualistic trials.

When Alef got back to the village, the village residents were just starting to wake up. He entered the small hut quietly, hoping Daleth was still asleep. He was relieved when he heard the old man snoring in his room. Alef changed out from his night clothes into his day clothes. He sat on his bed and pulled out the stone carved manta and butterfly his mother had made for him from the bag she used to carry around with her. He held the stone toys in his hands and sighed.

Alef heard Daleth opening the curtains in the hut. He put his two toys away and walked out of his small room.

“Oh, you're already up.” Daleth sounded a little surprised.

“I've been up for a while..”

“Aw, I thought you would've slept well after that bath last night.” Daleth walked to the little kitchen and pulled out a loaf of bread.

“Are you still having nightmares?”

“Yeah…”

Daleth cut the bread and handed him a slice but Alef shook his head, “I'm not hungry.”

Daleth frowned. He ate the slice of bread and put the loaf away.

“Can I go play with my friends?”

“Yes. Be back before sundown.”

Alef nodded and left the hut. Daleth placed a hand on the back of his neck and huffed. He got ready for the day.

Alef kept himself busy with his friends all day, and by nightfall, he was able to sleep.

𓆩✧𓆪

“Last night, before I went to bed, I saw a small group set up their tents right by the trial cave’s camp.” Kizuna was eating a rather large fruit.

“Ok, and? Travelers are common.” Alef yawned as he followed her. They were on their way to get Veluboga.

“They were different! I saw these really huge guys! Bigger than the cave teacher!”

“Do you mean the teacher with the jackal mask?”

“Yeah. From what I could tell, those guys were probably three times the size of him!” Kizuna handed Alef the fruit she had been eating, now full from it. He didn’t really want it, but kept it in his hands.

Knocking on Vel’s door, Kizuna rocked back and forth from her heels to her toes. Vel opened the door, greeted them and said goodbye to her dad as she left with her friends. Alef handed Vel the fruit Kizuna handed to him.

“So what are we doing today?” Veluboga began to eat the fruit.

“I want to see who camped far out over there.” Kiz gestured and the two looked where she was pointing.

“I don’t think we should bother travelers… we might get in trouble.” Alef sighed. He felt like he was always the voice of reason with her.

“We won’t get in trouble if we’re just looking. Now let's go!” She grabbed both Alef’s and Vel’s arm.

The three of them crept closer to the strange traveler's camp and hid behind a rock that was nearby. They saw a huge figure laying right next to a fire pit with charcoaled logs.

“See, I told you. Bigger than the cave teacher.” Kizuna whispered.

“Whoa… they are a giant.” Veluboga stared.

“Huh… they are huge.” Alef has never seen anyone quite that large before, even when he had traveled from his original village to here.

“I wonder where they are from?...” Kiz noticed how the large guy was dressed, “They look so different. Their tents look very fancy too. Way too fancy to be normal travelers.” She observed.

“What if they are rich travelers?” Vel asked.

“Why would anyone rich wanna come here? No offense, but this place isn't exactly screaming ‘rich people come here.’ ” Alef remarked in a sassy tone.

“Are you saying our village isn't interesting enough for rich people?” Kizuna got a little offended.

“Basically, yeah. I haven't seen anyone rich come here in the 4 weeks I've been here.” Alef kept his sassy tone.

Kizuna was about to argue with Alef until Veluboga pushed Kizuna forward, “You go touch them.” Vel gestured to the large traveler sleeping by the dead campfire as she giggled. Her tone was daring.

“No! I'm not gonna! What if they get angry?” Kizuna was distracted from Alef's snarky comments.

“You go and touch them. You suggested it!” Kiz shoved Veluboga, “What? No!”

Alef watched them bicker back and forth for a bit, sighing, “Out of my way, cowards.” He said as he pushed them off to the side. He would rather be the one to get in trouble than them.

He slowly crept up towards the massive, sleeping traveler as Kizuna and Veluboga hid behind the large rock. Alef noticed how they only had a cloak over themselves instead of a blanket. He froze in place when they rolled over to their side. Alef looked towards where his friends were hiding. Veluboga and Kizuna peaked out from behind the rock, frantically gesturing for him to come back. He shook his head, doubling down on the harmless dare Veluboga made.

He looked at the giant traveler once more, creeping closer and closer until he was standing over them. He didn't realize he was holding his breath as he realized just how massive they were… Kizuna was right, they were so much bigger than the jackal masked teacher of the caves. He looked back at his friends again before quickly poking the sleeping traveler on the face. He ran and hid behind one of the nearest tents, not daring to look back just in case they woke up.

After a few seconds of nothing happening, he peaked out from behind the tent and saw that the large traveler didn’t wake up. He looked over to vel and kiz again. They motioned for him to come back again, but he ignored them, feeling a little more confident now. He picked up a small stone and crept back over to them.

“Is he insane?!” Kizuna whispered loudly to Vel. Veluboga was just intensely watching Alef.

Alef placed the small stone on the large traveler's face and snickered. He turned his back to the traveler to look at his friends once more with a smug grin under his mask. Veluboga and Kizuna stared in horror as the large traveler sat up behind Alef. They ran away from behind the large rock when the large traveler stood up. Alef was confused why they suddenly ran.

He turned around just to see the massive traveler standing over him. Alef gasped and then bolted as fast as he could to catch up with Kizuna and Veluboga. It felt like his soul had left his body with the way the traveler had looked at him. When the three of them got back to the village, they were all out of breath.

“THEY ALMOST GOT YOU! DID YOU SEE THAT?!” Veluboga said as she was trying to catch her breath.

“THEY WERE ABOUT TO GRAB YOU!” Kizuna exaggerated.

Alef sat on the ground, panting. Alef took off his mask and wiped the sweat off from his face. He began to laugh, “You should've seen the look on your face Vel! It looked like you were about to crap yourself!” Alef put his mask back on, still chuckling.

“You're crazy!” Veluboga was embarrassed.

“You're the one who wanted someone to touch them. You got your wish.” Alef remarked in a snarky tone.

“You didn't have to go back a second time!” Kizuna still couldn't believe he did that.

“You two are just cowards.” He teased as he got up from the ground, not panting as hard now.

“You're just insane.” Kizuna shook her head. Veluboga patted Alef on the arm and pointed. He looked over to where she was pointing.

“Where did you run off too, young ember? I was looking for you.” Daleth said as he approached the three.

Veluboga was about to speak but Alef cut her off, “We were just playing tag on the outskirts of the village.”

“Ah, I see.” Daleth knew something was up, but he didnt feel like confronting them about it right now, “Come with me Alef, I need your help with a few things. Then you can return to playing with your friends afterwards.”

Alef sighed, “Alright…” He waved goodbye to Kiz and Vel as he followed Daleth.

“What do you need my help with?” He walked right besides Daleth.

“Just some small tasks.”

They went to the boat docks and Daleth had Alef paint over some of the old fading paint on the doc. It didn't take him too long since the doc was small. He also had Alef help him pick out a new cloth for the light temple's decoration. After that, Daleth wanted to head to the village's café to socialize for a bit.

“Why do I have to come along for this?” Alef complained.

“Because, it's good for you to socialize with new people. Plus, you can learn many things from the travelers.” Daleth entered the Café while Alef trailed behind him, slightly pouting.

“Good morning!” Daleth greeted the staff of the café with a cheerful tone. They greeted him back while politely bowing.

“The café smells wonderful as usual.” The old man walked up to the counter.

“We just got done baking this morning's pastries. And they're your favorites.” The café owner matched Daleth's upbeat attitude. She handed Daleth a small plate with 2 large pastries on them, still warm.

“Oh my sweet dear, thank you.” He reached for his pouch to pay her, but she refused.

“Take them.” She insisted.

“You know I feel guilty if I don't, I have to pay you for your hard work.” He placed the currency on the counter.

“Oh would you look at that!” She quickly distracted Daleth and gestured for Alef to put the currency back in his pouch, which he did.

“What is it?”

“The birds. Aren't they just gorgeous?” She pointed to the small birds that were perched outside. She looked down to Alef and winked at him. Alef giggled.

“Oh, they are. Very gorgeous indeed.” Daleth was unaware of what Alef did while he admired the birds. He turned his attention back to the café owner and chatted with her for a while after handing Alef one of the pastries.

Alef ate the warm pastry while Daleth talked. He went around the café, talking to the other people inside. Locals and travelers. He then walked over to a very large stranger in a cloak who was sitting at one of the tables, “Greetings. You seem like you're far from home.” He observed with an upbeat tone. Alef recognized the large stranger from the one he had pranked earlier. He shyly hid behind Daleth.

“I am.” The traveler replied. His voice was incredibly deep which threw Alef off and slightly intimidated him.

“Where are you from?” Daleth was curious.

“Golden city, in the golden dunes.”

“Oh, the golden dunes. I've heard many things about it, but I've never been. I must know, is It true that enforcement there is brutal? I've heard about how harsh they can be.”

The stranger shifted in his seat, almost seeming as if the question bothered them, “Yeah… the enforcers can be brutal at times, but that's only with the newer recruits. More seasoned enforcers are often relaxed after being in the position for so long.”

“I see. Must be all the energy they have. Oh! I almost forgot, how rude of me. I'm Daleth, and you are?” He reached out his hand.

“Tsadi.” He shook Daleth's hand.

“And this here is Alef.” He gestured to the child who was hiding behind him.

Tsadi chuckled, “Your kid is a prankster. He woke me this morning at my camp.”

Alef's face grew red under his mask and he could feel his body heating up from embarrassment.

“Oh! I'm so sorry-” Daleth bowed apologetically.

“It's fine.” One of the waiters brought Tsadi's food to the table and he thanked them. Daleth knew this was his cue to leave.

“It was nice to meet you. Again, I'm so sorry.” Daleth apologized again.

“It's alright.” He said genuinely as he took off his mask to eat.

Daleth headed out of the Café but held Alef by the arm, “Why were you messing with this traveler? Is that why I couldn't find you earlier?” He scolded. Alef looked away from Daleth in shame.

“And you lied to me where you were! Some travelers aren't as forgiving as they were, Alef.” He sounded upset. Alef said nothing. He couldn't bring himself to say anything. Daleth kept a grip on his arm.

“I'm sorry…” He said very quietly. He still couldn't look Daleth in the face. He was too embarrassed and shameful.

“You should be apologizing to that traveler.” His tone was a little more soft now, “Some of these people come a long way, and being rudely woken up like that, it's not fair to them.”Alef looked at his feet while they walked. The silence felt intense.

“I need you to do one more thing for me… then I'll let you go back with your friends.” Daleth stopped, let go of Alef's arm and slowly bent down with the aid of his staff to be at eye level with the child.

“Promise me, you'll behave yourself better?”

Alef bowed his head, “I promise.” He still felt shameful, but tried to speak louder than he did before. Daleth put a hand on his shoulder and he looked at him.

“Your friends may want to get into trouble, but you can always be the responsible one and back away after warning them if they do not listen to you.” Daleth slowly stood back up.

“Now go, play.”

Alef bowed quickly and ran off to find his friends. He found them in the center of the village, playing with the other village kids. He joined them in the game they were playing - sky ball. The oldest kid that was playing with them was about 13. They were showing off their tricks to the younger kids and trying to teach some of their tricks as well. The youngest kid in the group was probably 5. For a few hours, they played with the ball, trying their best to not make it touch the ground while using only their feet and hips to move the ball. The kid who owned the ball eventually had to leave the group, which left them with nothing much to do afterwards.

Alef, Kizuna and Veluboga sat down, slightly tired after playing. After they got their second wind, Kizuna tapped Alef's shoulder, “Look.” She gestured to someone who was sitting on a bench nearby and eating.

“They look really pretty. They also look rich.” She admired the stranger.

Alef stared at the stranger, “They look like a vault worker, but fancier.” He observed.

“How do you know what a vault worker looks like?... and what's a vault worker?” Kizuna asked.

“My mom told me stories about them and she painted small pictures of them. She said they are the keepers of all knowledge and they work in a giant vault that stores it. But they all are dressed the same.” Alef tried to explain.

“Then why did you call that one fancy if they all dress the same?” Vel asked.

“Because they are dressed fancier than what a vault worker looks like, duh.” Alef rolled his eyes.

“If they all dress the same, then a fancy vault worker shouldn't exist.” Kiz copied Alef's attitude.

Alef growled, “Then what would make them?” He gestured to the stranger.

“Rich.” Kizuna sassed.

Alef sighed, “You know what, I'm gonna ask them and prove you wrong.”

Kizuna mocked him as he left. He looked up at the stranger as he approached them, “are you some kind of fancy vault worker?” He asked sheepishly. The stranger gave a soft smile, “Something like that, yeah.” They spoke in a gentle tone that reminded him of his mother. He looked down at his feet and then back up at them, “My friends said there's no such thing as a fancy vault worker because they all dress the same.”

“Well, my job is different from the other vault workers. That's why I'm dressed differently.” They ate the last bit of their food and placed their mask back onto their face.

“What's your job?” He was feeling a bit less shy.

“I'm a soothsayer.”

“What's that?”

“Someone who can foresee the future.”

“Whoa… so you can see the future?” He wanted to make sure he understood them correctly.

“Yes.”

“So can you tell that I'm gonna do this?” Alef kicked his feet in the air, pretending to hit something. The stranger chuckled.

“My ability doesn't work like that. I have to meditate and focus on what is calling to me.” They explained.

“Oh.” Alef suddenly noticed a large stranger standing nearby the bench the other stranger was sitting at. They looked just like the traveler he pranked this morning. He assumed they knew each other.

“Who's that?” He pointed at the large stranger.

They looked at who he was pointing to, “That's my bodyguard.”

“Why do you have a bodyguard?”

“Because my job is so important that I don't often travel. And when I do, I tend to attract attention. So they keep me safe.”

“Oh.” Alef looked back to his friends. They were getting tired of him taking so long, so they walked over to join him.

“They are a fancy vault worker, I was right.” Alef said snarkily to Kizuna. She mocked him again.

“Are you rich?” Kizuna wanted to know.

“Considering my job title… I guess I am.” They had to think about the answer to that question for a bit.

The three of them asked the stranger a few more questions before they had none left to ask. Then Alef remembered he never introduced himself to the stranger.

“I'm Alef, that's Veluboga and this is Kizuna.” He pointed to his friends.

“It's nice to meet all of you. I'm Lamed and this is Anumoh.” She gestured to the guard.

“They're big!” Kizuna stared at the guard, “Why are you so big?”

“I ate my vegetables.” Anumoh said with a straight face. Lamed chuckled at their response.

The three kids chatted with the travelers a little longer before they decided to go do something else. They said goodbye to Lamed and Anumoh before running off.

“See, I told you they were a fancy vault worker.”

“But they also said they were rich.”

“Both of you were right. So stop fighting.” Veluboga spoke up.

The three of them went to the boat docs to bother Daleth and tell him about the “fancy” vault worker that was in the village.

𓆩✧𓆪

Throughout the week, Alef and his friends saw the fancy vault worker and three other vault workers in the village and around in the markets. They also saw those large body guards with them.

At the end of the week, Daleth had Alef help him in the light temple. A wave of new travelers had been coming in for the ceremonial trials and Daleth wanted to greet as many of them as he could. Alef was placing new white candles up at alters when he noticed a small group approaching Daleth. He recognized them - the group he's been seeing all week.

He continued to place the white candles down, but he also watched. He couldn't tell what they were saying, but he noticed how Daleth bowed. A long and deep bow, which he's never seen Daleth do. He quickly finished placing the white candles down, wanting to know what they were talking about. He walked up to Daleth and looked up at Lamed and her group. One of them had handed Daleth a stone tablet, of which was engraved with light.

“Keep this in your temple and let the travelers who pass by see it.” Lamed said.

Daleth nodded, “I will.”

Alef tugged on Daleth's robe, trying to get his attention, “What's that?” He gestured to the stone tablet. Daleth waved his hand at Alef, signaling for him to wait as he talked to Lamed.

“With this new knowledge, my village… we will have many travelers coming to it for the trials, yes?”

“Your village will most definitely have a large increase of travelers. Prepare what you can, for your village is the first to receive my word. You may see an increase as soon as this week.”

“I will keep this in mind. Thank you.” Daleth bowed and they left.

Alef tugged on Daleth's robe again, “What were you talking about and why were you bowing at them like that?”

“That was the oracle. She came here to bring us a prophecy.” Daleth walked over to one of the altars in the temple and placed the stone tablet at the center of it.

“The oracle?..” Alef followed him.

“Yes… she's highly respected across the realms, young ember. She has prophesied many things in the past and they came true. Though, no one ever sees her outside of the vault's doors. Her coming here- it's a very big deal, child.” Daleth seemed like he was excited. Alef’s never seen him this excited.

“Is she like… a realm leader?” He was trying to understand her importance.

“She is more than a realm leader.” Daleth pointed to the stone tablet, “This. She has foretold of a child completing all four trials and becoming our king, making a kingdom out of the scattered realms and unifying us all.”

Alef looked at the stone tablet. He felt unsure about the prophecy, “But, aren't kids not allowed in the trials?...”

“They aren't… but if she says a child will rise up from all four trials, then that's what's going to happen.” Daleth tried to explain.

“I don't wanna go to the trials…” Alef looked up at Daleth.

“Well, you don't have to until you feel you are ready. You are still very young.” He gestured for Alef to follow, “We must let the village know of this. We must arrange for a gathering tonight and plan for what's to come.”

Alef nodded as Daleth led him out of the light temple.

𓆩✧𓆪

For the following weeks after the prophecy spread throughout all the realms, the village of Isle became over overwhelmed with travelers from all corners of each realm. The village grew in population over the span of 3 years. Of the 3 years, Alef wanted to learn as much as he could about the trials with his friends on top of his studies in the realm of prairie. He didn't want to go to the trials, but his friends convinced him that they would go together.

𓆩✧𓆪

[misteria247]

I'm realizing that Stan is actually incredibly smart. Like in a Ford kind of way to some extent.

Like yes Stan's street smart and life smart but he's also got the smarts that Ford's praised for. Because he had rebuilt the portal and figured out his brother's notes and equations.

Like do you know how hard math is on Ford and Fiddleford's level of expertise??? How complicated and delicate it is????? Especially the kind that brings portals to life???? And Stan figured it out. Had taught himself to read and comprehend these difficult things. Difficult things that requires college degrees in science and mathematics.

And Stan did this on an incomplete high school grade level of academics.

That's fucking nuts. Sure it took 30 years but he learned it. By himself, can you imagine how frustrated he got, teaching himself Ford's educational level??? Using his mechanical skills of fixing his car to be up to par to Fiddleford's impressive craftsmanship????

And I can just see how Ford and Fiddleford react post apocalypse. Ford doing equations and science stuff and talking while Fiddleford listens and gives his input when Stan pipes up unintentionally and puts his hat into the ring. And it's mathematically sound?? And these two men are just blown away cuz what the actual hell?? Ford's immediately questioning Stan, wanting to hear his thoughts while Fiddleford watches impressed and Stan's mortified and a bit overwhelmed. Or Fiddleford working on something and Ford's watching him when Stan points out a better way to make a part work and Fidds is like omg thank you Stanley??? And Ford's looking at his little brother dumbfounded and itching to bomb him with questions and whatnot.

Stan never knows peace afterwards.

[phoenixkaptain]

Reading the novelization of A New Hope already changed how I saw Luke as a character but Splinter of the Mind’s Eye is going one step further and making me question the very fundamentals thought to be obvious about Luke.

Like, Luke is, for lack of a better term, a nerd. He studied languages and cultures -

“”Yes,” Luke admitted modestly. “I used to study a lot about certain worlds, back on my uncle’s farm on Tatooine. It was my only escape, and educational as well. This,” and he indicated the creature resting a massive long arm on his head and shaking him in a friendly fashion, “is a Yuzzem.””

-he wants to study more languages and cultures-

“Empty doorways beckoned to him and he was tempted, very tempted, to enter one of the ruined structures to find out if its interior was as well preserved as the outside.

This was not, he reminded himself firmly, the time for playful exploration. Their first concern was to find a way out, not to go poking around this ancient metropolis. However wonderful it was.”

Luke wants to know about people. He wants to know about cultures and creatures and he wants to be able to communicate and…

He really just. Is a great Jedi. He jumps between Leia and danger and he befriends the Yuzzem the prison guards thought would kill him and he wants to explore the creepy abandoned ruins of a civilization long past and he uses Anakin’s lightsaber underwater to cut the stem of a lilypad they use as a boat and he comments that the rock formations are almost too beautiful to cut down and he knows how to work Imperial explosives and

He’s a Jedi, man. He’s a Jedi. He’s been a Jedi this whole time, before any of us even knew what that actually meant.

[birrdies]

“when I say you are killing me” (desert duo one-shot, 2.6k)

Every inch of his climb is agony. White-hot and endless, it ricochets through Scar’s body as if it bought an expressway pass through his veins like a highway. Would it have killed Grian to get an apartment on the first floor? Hell, Scar would even take something on the third or fourth-floor if he had to. Anything would be better than dragging himself, slowly and painfully, up twelve flights of rickety metal stairs. In the snow. In the middle of the night. Bleeding.

Scar’s having a bad night.

Blood dribbles between the gaps of his fingers. It’s slower than it had been, but each heave up another flight of stairs blinds him with pain and sends a few more fresh droplets of blood sliding down his middle. His shirt (whatever tatters remain of it anyway) and pants are wet and tacky, sticking to his skin like a perpetually wet bathing suit as he tries to climb the rest of the way up to Grian’s apartment.

The fire escape is an old decrepit fixture of rusting metal mounted to the brick siding with nothing more than a few loose bolts and a dream. It groans beneath his weight, the barest shake of wind causing the metal to ripple and shudder. The metal saps the warmth from his already cold, pale fingertips. He’d had gloves, but had to get rid of them as they were soaked in blood and not all-that conducive for climbing-under-the-influence (of blood loss). Scar’s not afraid of much, least of all heights, but he chooses each step up the fire escape carefully, muscle memory a crutch as he drags himself past open windows with the lights still on. Last thing he needs is another broadcast claiming HotGuy is nothing but a petty creep with a penchant for B&Es.

By the time he reaches the twelfth floor he’s shaking from head-to-to. Each breath sears through him, rivaling the sharp-edged pain of lightning, setting him alight. It burns through him, the aftershocks never ending as he pulls himself upright and grasps onto the edges of Grian’s windowsill. A pained whine catches between his teeth; he refuses to let it out.

Curled up at Grian’s windowsill as he peeks through the drawn curtains at the warm lamplight cascading through the glass, Scar finds the painful climb was well worth each and every second of agony. No better minded than a moth drawn to a flame Scar leans in to rest his forehead against the glass, the warm, golden glow from within Grian’s apartment beckoning him forward. Inside, Grian’s sitting at his desk around a cluster of books and papers strewn around as if a bomb had gone off. His hair is fuzzy and curled at the tips, as it always is whenever Grian lets it air dry after a shower. His shoulders are hunched and the sides of his face are illuminated by the blue glow of his laptop screen. Even through the glass Scar can hear the incessant clacking of his keys as he furiously types away at whatever assignment he’s working on.

It takes Scar more than one try to build up the courage to disturb him. He looks peaceful (or about as peaceful as someone working on a lab report can be), and Scar knows that peace will shatter the second he knocks, the second he barges in, yet again, on Grian’s evening and sweeps him up in his vigilante shenanigans.

Scar’s bloodied hands grasp onto the windowsill, red streaks staining the chipping white paint like a crime scene out of some gruesome horror movie Grian would have him watch. He winces at the sight; it’ll be a nightmare to scrub out. He’ll have to remember to buy Grian dinner one of these days to make it up to him and hope that Grian will have the heart, eventually, to forgive him.

“Grian,” he mumbles, startled to find his voice nothing more than a gravelly rasp. He reaches to knock, but his arms are as stiff as uncooked spaghetti noodles and don’t listen to a word he has to say. With a huff of frustration, Scar pitches his weight forward and thumps his head twice against the glass. The dull ache through his forehead is nothing compared to the feverish burning tearing through his chest and stomach.

Inside, a shadow bolts across the floor. Grian’s cat, Maui. In his chair Grian twists around at the sound. He’s wearing his glasses— Scar’s heart drops low in his stomach at the sight— and squints through the darkness to see Scar sheepishly waving at him through the glass, his breath fogging it up just enough to be seen.

He unfurls himself from his chair and comes to pry the window open. Scar comes face-to-face with his heart-patterned pajama pants, two sizes too big and pooling around his ankles. Wait, are those Scar’s?

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Grian is asking before Scar manages to start dragging himself in through the open window. It’s only for the briefest millisecond, in Grian’s ignorance, that Scar can be grateful for the starless, moonless night. The dark shields him not only from the prying eyes of neighbors, but from Grian’s scrutiny. In this dark he can’t see the blood, can’t see the tears in his shirt. In the dark, he might just look a little ruffled, no worse for wear than he usually is after a busy night patrolling. In the dark, he and Grian can pretend, albeit for only a second, that everything is normal.

But as the pain and dark corners throbbing in his periphery are keen on reminding him, everything is very much not normal.

“I seemed to have lost my watch,” Scar says as he pulls himself in through the open window. Every movement is measured, half-withheld, ginger— everything that Scar isn’t, and he’d be a fool to think Grian wouldn’t notice. He does immediately, because he’s Grian, and he’s never been truly ignorant when it comes to Scar, despite Scar’s best intentions.

Grian steps back with wide eyes. The color drains from his face as Scar holds his weight against the wall with one blood-slicked hand and struggles to stand at his full height. Every inch he tries to stand taller, the more the swelling edges of the wound start to pull and ache.

“Scar?” Grian’s face, usually so warm and vivid, especially under the light of his desk lamp, pales to a near lifeless color. He staggers toward him, hands held out in front of him as if to catch Scar. “Scar, what happened? Are you okay?”

“Right as rain, G,” Scar says, managing a wry smile. “Honest.”

“Don’t give me that.” Grian rushes forward, grabbing Scar around the shoulders and steering him towards the futon in the middle of the room. The second Grian touches him some of Scar’s pain fades, if not just because he has somewhere else to pitch his weight, to take some of the strain off his bloodied, torn middle.

The pair of them hobble to the futon, Grian whispering mumbled nothings as he lowers Scar onto the edge and forces him to sit back with firm hands on his shoulders. Scar allows himself the smallest mercy of relaxing into the cushions, his arms and legs limp at his sides as his head lulls back to rest against the back of the futon. It’s as if every string tying his marionette up, stringing him along, has been cut all at once. It’s somehow blissful and terrifying all at the same time. He’s not sure he’s ever been this roughed up, this exhausted.

And in front of Grian of all people?

Grian, whose face is drawn tight, whose shoulders and jaw are rigid as if he’s been made out of wood. Grian, who anxiously flutters at Scar’s side for a second before disappearing in a flurry toward the kitchen. Scar’s head is too heavy for him to lift, but he hears Grian rummaging and cursing under his breath before he returns just as quickly as he left. In his arms he balances a handful of small dishtowels, a first-aid kit, and a box of blue rubber gloves.

“I can’t believe this,” he says, to himself more than to Scar, as he sits on his knees on the cushion beside Scar and leans over to assess the wounds.

Gingerly he pulls the tattered shreds of his black shirt away from the wound-bed (as much as he can with some of the fabric stuck to his body with blood like glue) and winces at the gory sight. Scar’s skin is torn in jagged ridges, three gouge marks clawed from just under his ribs and down across his right abdomen. Thankfully, the worst of the bleeding seems to have stopped, dark, thick globules of blood already starting to stitch together like wads of hot glue around the wound, crusting on the skin.

Grian examines it all with a crease between his brow that Scar, after all this time, has come to know means he’s irritated. He’s always looked especially cute when he’s angry (part of the reason it’s just too easy for Scar to give into the temptation to push his buttons whenever possible), but the downturn of his lips, the whites of his eyes, reveals something far more serious. Worry. Grian’s worried about him, and maybe it’s the blood loss starting to get to Scar in earnest, but Scar finds he far prefers this sight. He can’t help but smile back at him, even though he knows it’ll likely earn him a punch when he’s no longer bleeding out on Grian’s couch.

“Scar.” Grian says his name as if he’s been saying it for a while, but Scar’s only just now hearing it. “This is bad. Like, really bad.”

Scar blinks down his nose at him, brow furrowed. “You should see the other guy,” he says with a weak huff of laughter. “Stuck him so full of arrows you could call him a porcupine.”

“Scar, this is serious,” Grian admonishes, snapping on a pair of gloves and brushing his hair from his eyes.

“But you’re gonna fix me right up, ain’t you, Doc?” Sar teases, lifting his head just enough to catch Grian’s scowl as he flicks open the first-aid kit and fishes out a small brown bottle.

“I need you to tell me what happened,” Grian says, and there he goes again— detached, analytical, dawning his ‘I’m calm and collected’ persona. He pulls a pair of scissors out of the first-aid kit and tests the snap of them. “This doesn’t look like it was from some kind of a knife—”

“Ravager,” Scar says, gritting his teeth in anticipation. “Jerk got too close.”

Grian raises an eyebrow. “Sounds more like you got too cocky.”

Again, Scar finds himself fighting (and failing) to conceal a smug little smile. “You’re worried about me, just say it.”

“I’m pissed off is what I am,” Grian snaps. He peels up one edge of Scar’s shirt and begins cutting away as much of the fabric as he can without disturbing the edges of Scar’s wounds. He winces only when the shirt tugs too sharply on the red, puffy edges of the wound. And Grian, to Scar’s surprise, nearly flinches every time he does.

“Sorry, sorry,” Grian whispers each time, sounding so unlike himself. His face is pale, and if Scar isn’t mistaken there’s the faintest tremble to his hand.

“It’s okay,” Scar says, just as hushed, as if the slightest movement or raise in his voice will spook Grian. “Do what you gotta do. I’m tough, I’m strong. I can take it.”

Grian scoffs and peels a foil lid from the bottle’s cap, dumping a bit of it onto a folded dishrag. “Yeah, okay. We’ll see how tough and strong you are once I start cleaning this.”

“Give me your worst, Doc.” Scar lets his head loll back to stare at the ceiling, taking as deep a breath as his tense, wounded chest will allow. The twinge of pain reminds him to stay awake, has his fingers curling into the fabric of the futon beneath him.

Grian doesn’t give Scar a warning, which he appreciates. The anticipation is the worst part. He grits his teeth and bares it as Grian firmly, but not violently, uses the alcohol-soaked rag to wash away the blood from his torn skin. Scar scrunches his eyes shut and breathes through it, the pain an unrelenting impulse racing through his veins like faulty circuitry gone haywire.

And as soon as it starts, it’s over. Grian sits back on his heels and tosses the now blood-soaked rag to the floor. He wipes at the sweat blistering across his forehead with his arm, taking a shaky breath in as he examines his handiwork.

“It’s not too deep,” he says, sounding the slightest bit relieved. He twists to reach for the first-aid kit again. “You’re lucky I swiped this stuff from the lab. Though I won’t begin to guess why you came here instead of a hospital. This needs stitches, probably.”

“Eh, I’m not worried about another scar,” Scar dismisses, ignoring the small beads of sweat starting to gather on his own brow. He can’t handle Grian thinking he’s caused him any more pain; the only thing worse than suffering as he is now is to watch Grian torture himself over things he can’t control. Like Scar. “Besides, I can’t exactly keep up the whole secret identity thing if I go to a hospital half in costume, now can I?”

“Secret identity,” Grian parrots mockingly, unraveling a bundle of bandages and starting to tack them down around Scar’s middle. “You nearly got gutted, and that’s what you’re worried about. Of course.”

He’s angry. Scar would be an idiot to not be able to see it, and maybe it shouldn’t surprise him as much as it does. But it’s not the anger that catches Scar off guard. It’s what lingers beneath it: Grian’s gloved, trembling hands, the way he can’t look Scar in the eye more than a second before having to look away, burying himself in sorting through the first-aid kit for the fourth time as if looking for something to help and, just like every other time, coming up empty-handed.

Grian’s scared.

Scar’s known Grian for years now, and over that time he’s been a lot of things. Angry, judgmental, infectiously funny, bright. But afraid has never been a word Scar has used to describe him.

“Grian…”

“Of course I’m worried,” Grian says, catching Scar off guard. His voice is so quiet, so hushed that Scar wonders if he imagined it. Because something so vulnerable and soft sounding couldn’t come from someone as headstrong and impervious as Grian. It simply isn’t possible. “How could I not be? Have you looked at yourself?”

“Hey.” Scar can’t dream of sitting up, but he manages to leverage himself up just enough to reach for Grian’s wrist. He’ll feel bad about staining Grian’s sleeves with blood later. For now he needs to grab hold of him, pull him in close. To reassure him. “I’m fine. I’m still here, aren’t I? I’m in good hands, yeah?”

“Scar,” Grian says, sounding like he’s about to start crying. He curls his fingers into a weak fist, as if to pull from Scar’s grasp, but he doesn’t try it. He only holds it there, waiting. “I’m not exactly qualified. I’m a bio student, not a—”

“You’re doing fine,” Scar insists, caressing the inner aspect of Grian’s wrist with his thumb. There, he can feel the furious pace Grian’s heart takes on at the touch, like his pulse is ready to leap out from beneath the thin layer of skin. He flashes a smile, just to prove it to Grian. “I’ve bounced back from a lot worse than this. I’m just glad I don’t have to do it alone this time.”

[willowser]

ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴏɴ ᴀʟʟ ғᴏᴜʀs. werewolf kiri au.

you wake up under a mountain of furs.

light comes flickering from the hearth and, warm and welcoming as it is—you've no idea where you are.

you don't recognize the inside of the cabin; it's certainly not yours, nor is its layout that of any you’ve seen in the village. it's rather plain, with a singular window and table and chair and small fireplace, empty enough that you wonder how anyone could live comfortably with so little.

outside, the winter storm rages on, and there's a howl that cuts through the air that strikes bone-deep.

all at once your memories come back to you: dragged through town with bound hands and ankles, in only a thin night dress, screaming with all your might as the physician that delivered you into this world tied you to an old pine, along with the priest and the man that sold you blueberries in the spring.

people you knew and loved. had trusted.

the memories become hazy after a while, darkening with the night that crept in. you remember your body losing its feeling, but not its fear. you remember the violence of the storm, breaking trees and branches and uprooting the forest floor. you remember the horrible and hulking shape of something rising in the moonlight.

the door shoves open then, with enough force to send you scurrying back into the corner of the room. the blizzard tries to rush inside, but a man stands in its way, leaning back against the wood to keep the wind and snow out where it belongs. he's—big, as tall as the frame and just as wide, with thick hair that he's tied back, messy and low.

he's rosy in his cheeks and on the tip of his nose, as bright as the eyes that snap to you the moment you dare to breathe.

he doesn't say anything, at first. the bag of firewood he sets at his feet settles as he turns to you in interest, eyebrows raised. the clothes he's wearing look—old and worn, certainly not suitable for the storm roaring outside, with the holes and tears in the fabric. the boots he has on, however, seem heavy, have his steps echoing when he moves further into the room.

you pull your knees up to your chest and try to shrink away; beneath your thin dress, your skin has pebbled up, reminding you of just how vulnerable you still are.

your fear translates; the man stops on the other side of the little table, breathing in deeply before raising his hands up in what reads as surrender.

"hello," he finally says, and when you don't respond, he places a thick hand to his dark-haired chest and introduces himself as, "eijirou."

he nods emphatically and then repeats himself, as if to reinforce the name. you only grant him a small nod in return—and he smiles. it's wide, stretching across his face, and friendly, authentic enough that you question whether you're as damned as you thought, or perhaps saved.

how did you even get here? the question finally thaws out from the recesses of your brain and you take another look around the room as if the answer lies between the wood or nestled into the furs. this place looks too hand-crafted, you realize, all of it—and the man before you looks like he could move mountains, if he wanted to.

the chains that had bound you were iron-strong and didn't once budge in all your thrashing, before things went dark—but now you are inside by a well-maintained fire, warm and free, and all that remains of your ill fate are the indentions worn into your wrists.

he's still staring at you, the man. eijirou. he's not moved any closer, either, and when you meet his curious gaze, his lips twist and his eyes narrow. a thoughtful noise comes out of his mouth, like he's thinking of what to say or how to say it, and you're reminded that you don't recognize where you are, nor do you recognize him in the slightest.

big as he is, you don't think he could have carried you too far in a snowstorm such as the one still raging outside; are you still somewhere deep in the forest? in a cabin at the heart of the wood? saved by a man that somehow survives with so little out in the middle of nowhere?

"eijirou," you test the name on your lips and he perks up at the sound, attention snapping back to you instantly. you don't know if it's winter seeping through the floor, or if it's in the way that he watches you, that makes you shiver.

finally, he asks, "cold?" and when you nod, he slowly makes his way over to you, carefully, as if approaching a deer ready to run.

—and then he sheds his shirt with a quick shrug and holds it out to you.

you should want to look away, for decency sake, but you're—stunned by it, by him. there's a litany of scars that paint him in odd and worrisome places, but he stands tall and strong before you, unbothered by his own state. unbothered by the eyes that run over the expanse of his bare shoulders, the dark, thick trail of hair running down from his belly button, the ripples of muscle his loose shirt did well to hide.

you take it from him carefully and it's so warm, almost hot, that you press it to your face immediately to chase away the chatter of your jaw. the material itself, however ragged, is big enough to drape over your curled form like a blanket, and so you do just that. it carries the earthy smell of the woods, deeply woven into the fabric; pine and musk and something smoky.

with your cheek still pressed to his shirt, you look up to thank him, at last, but the words still in your throat at the minute changes of his face: still smiling, though sharper now, somehow, and his eyes are still wide with that keen, rapt interest—but the crimson to them has set like the sun and they've grown just as dark as the night outside.

[thephantomsdream]

Simon with a collar on, held by a leash and head thrown back as all he does is slam into you, your sweet praises filling his ears.

"Good boy." You'd moan, feeling his big cock fill you up as you just take it. It's all you needed, your sweet baby to fuck you from behind as you disconnect. And good thing you had an obedient man that did anything you wanted eagerly.

"You feel so good, baby." He'd groan at your words and look down at your thick ass bouncing with every slam of his hips into you, watching his cock spread your cunt again and again. He'd grab a handful of your ass fat, growl like the filthy animal he was and slam harder, earning a good scream from you.

Filthy fucking girl. He'd spit out if he could, but it didn't matter. He was just as fucking filthy, collared up, leash in your land pulling him towards you, owning every fiber of his being, ordering him to slut himself only for you. You owned him anyway. Yes, you fucking did. With every order, every touch, every glance, he was yours to command.

And he thrived when you did. Simon was made to be your dog, your rabid animal that only you could take and tame, even if at times the leash was for decoration, since taming him seemed to be the last thing you wanted.

Rough, dirty, filthy, all he had to do was pound your cunt and manhandle you. As he just was, lost himself in your core, mind dizzy, no other thoughts but you, his owner, mistress, love.

And as he watched you throw your head back, he put his hand around your throat to keep it there. The moan he got from you drove him wild, just as the way you pulled the leash onto you, making him lean down, glue his torso to your back as he still fucked you raw, rough and good.

"That's it, baby. Give it to me harder." Orders whispered into his ear as he held your throat still, by his head, and braced himself, spreading his legs for stability and plummeted, his heavy breathing hitting your ear.

And as you threw your head back, your eyes rolling in the back of your head, you saw it in his eyes, the way he was lost into the passion of the moment, teeth gritted and sweat falling from his temple. He was reduced to his most animalistic instinct, all he truly craved the moment you put that collar on him.

Lost in your dripping cunt, you smiled at him, your temple touching his, feeling his other hand take a handful of your tit and groan, the vibrations of his chest hitting your back, cock burried deep inside of you.

"My sweet baby." You coo, feeling it arrive. A wave of ecstasy as your whole body burns in heat, and he feels it too, as if connected, and bites into your neck, slurping on the sweat and meat, one objective in mind. And while all he chases was you cumming and creaming his cock, he agrees with you. He is sweet, isn't it? He slams into you, hearing your whines. He's being so good for you, isn't he? He slams again, his grip on your throat tightens, and so does your cunt around him. He's your good boy, yeah? He felt it, your pussy spasming. You love him, don't you? He drilled harder.

And as you finally came, screaming like a desperate whore for him, he saw you fall to the side and smirk at him, dizzy, breathless, heavy tits lifting and falling with each of your pants. And you looked up at him, smirking, knowing he isn't done. He kneeled on the bed, panting hard, waiting. Cock hard and wet, your cream at his base and pre-cum leaking from the tip. And he waited.

"Aww, baby. You aren't done, aren't you?" You coo and tease, adjusting to lay on your back and spread your legs, then with a quick movement of your wrist, you pulled the leash towards you.

"Come here, puppy. Fill me up good, yeah?" It was all he needed to hear before he descended onto you.

[knightobreath]

the iii style mepad design sucks so i tried my best to fix it while remaining in-style 👍 first time doing an edit like this. it was kinda fun might try something like it again

edit: because not a lot of people have seen this design i guess, original is on the right

[sualne]

wish me luck as i attempt to rewrite the modern au from the ground up for the third time.

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

A little meme gif I made 🖤🕷️🦇☠️

[marstonsboy]

every time i make any kind of au for rdr it just gets sadder than canon for no justifiable reason. the other day i had the evil thought of “wouldn’t it have been fucked up if dutch actually shot john on that cliff and jack went after his uncle dutch for revenge years later” and now i can’t get it out of my head. what the hell.

[le-panda-chocovore]

Me : Karma and Gakushuu are Rivals to Lovers ONLY, nothing more and nothing less.

Me : *finds a Karma & Asano are siblings fic* What is this ? I can't imagine Karma being a part of Asano family, it wouldn't make sense ! Also, I want them to be boyfriends, not brothers !!!

Me : *after reading a few siblings AU fic* Oh my god there's so much DRAMA POTENTIAL IN THIS TROPE, THIS IS AWESOME HOLY FUCK- *process to daydream about dysfunctional Asano-Akabane family for one month straight and has at least 3 fanfictions idea*

[misteria247]

Imagine-

It's the fall season and Ford's actually getting a chance to enjoy it for the first time in 30 years. He's surrounded by the nibbings who are chatting a mile a minute, telling him about school and about a fall festival coming up. Close by is his twin, who's listening with a soft look. The season consists of these moments, of Ford going on walks with his grand niece and nephew. Or helping them make leaf piles for them to jump in, Dipper and Mabel's laughter always filling him with warmth. In those moments he'll sometimes mess with Stanley, pushing him into a pile and Stan will get a look of mischief and drag Ford with him. The two of them covered in dead leaves and laughing at their messy hair and crooked glasses.

On chilly nights he'll have Dipper, Mabel and Stan surrounding him on the floor or couch. The four of them in warm pjs and fluffy blankets. With movies or stories being shared between them. On frosty mornings Ford wakes up and gets coffee, and Stan will come in shortly after sleepy and needing coffee. The kids join shortly afterwards and they all enjoy a nice breakfast together.

Ford would go to different festivals, where he, Stan and the twins will try different treats like caramel and candy apples. Or take part in stands that sell delicious apple, maple, pecan or pumpkin sweets. He'll get hot chocolate for the kids and strong spiced apple cider for him and Stanley. Every day of the autumn season, Ford enjoys every moment of it, with his three favorite people in the world.

[phoenixkaptain]

Always get so worked up when people are like “Batman doesn’t kill people, he just puts them in critical care, isn’t that worse?” And it’s. NO. No it isn’t worse because that’s the point the point is that he hurts them to the point they wish they are dead I-

Modern Batman especially, but even early Batman portray “Batman” as something ominous. It isn’t normal, it isn’t what a normal person should want to be like. Batman is unflinching and merciless amd drops out of the shadows because he’s supposed to be creepy!! He’s an eepy creepy lil dude!

The original origin of the “bat” part of Batman was bats being seen as a bad omen. They’re ominous, they denote bad luck. Bruce says that criminals are all superstitious, so ge decides to dress as a bat. This is literally the first explanation given for why Batman Batmans, and it all leads back to the sole fact that Bruce is trying to scare people.

He WANTS to be the Boogey-Man hiding under beds, he’s AIMING to be the eyes watching ominously from the shadows, he’s TRYING to be scary!

Death is scary, but the lead up to death is the scariest part, isn’t it?

Horror movies are scary because of the unrelenting figure stalking through the night. Slashers were scary because they killed with knives- it took multiple, painful stabs to die. Saw was considered scary because the injuries the traps inflict, the horror stems from imagining yourself in that position and wondering if you could hurt yourself to the point you would wish you were dead to live.

That’s the horror of Batman. An ominous omen. A creature that doesn’t stop until it reaches its prey. A stalker who knows more about you than you know about yourself. Death is more desirable, because death equals escape and this is a monster you will never be able to escape from.

That was the horror of It Follows, wasn’t it? The monster was everywhere and nowhere, always following, unrelenting, and the only way to escape was to give it to someone else.

Batman makes villains wish they were dead and that is the point. That is literally what he’s going for. Bruce Wayne has stocks in Gotham Hospital EMTs and he’s going to cash in right before he retires. The pain is inflicted on purpose. “I don’t want to kill anyone” is not the same phrase as “I don’t want to hurt anyone.” He wants to hurt people. Just, undeniably. Mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually; he wants them to be hurt.

And I can’t stand when people act like hurting people goes against his morals. Has Batman ever said he didn’t want to hurt anybody? It was a lie, if he ever did, because he definitely hurts himself literally everyday on purpose. He’s an eepy! Creepy! Spooky! Little! Guy! Let him be an eepy creepy spooky little guy!

[qoldenskies]

Oh my fucking god the Raph and Don parallels are so much fucking worse. They sound like each other when they think and speak. Insisting “I love you” against a locked door. The last part of Raph’s chapter feels like the scene where Donnie reminisces on the time after Shredder. His monologue at the beginning literally sounds like Donnie begging for forgiveness from his brother in CL. “I wanna be worth it” you’re both SICK in the head.

HHHHHHhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

leo and donnie may be twinning hard right now but raph and donnie are doing some fuckinnnn!!! PARALLELS!!!!!! CL being so long and having so much to take from for things like this really helps pound in the way that the roles have been reversed after the curse breaks; how they cant do much but work, how they can only love from afar, how they can give and give and give but it wont get through to the person they want to love them the most, how desperate they are for normalcy and simplicity and the donnie they used to have .......

what a terrible way to finally be able to empathize with your emotionally unavailable brother.

that scene where they talk about the stuff they miss is also kind of intended to be a parallel to the family meeting,,,, but donnie's missing from it. they're not saying this to him. because he opened himself up and took their punishment but he wont so easily do the same with their love. haha painful! :D

[general-cyno]

sharing some gdocs zolus bc i got possessed last night and actually liked how this turned out

[six-white-venus]

UHMM uhm. thoughts on strays

Dear God,

I am- you must know my name already, right? After all, I’m your child. My mother tells me you used to be a shepherd. My hair is white like that of a sheep. You must’ve let me go astray. What a bad master you are.

Dear God,

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.

Dear God,

Father (I can call you that, right? I’m your son, after all), won’t you take care of ma? She’s sick, and she screams way too much these days. You will take care of her, right? Ma tells me you are everywhere. I think I saw you yesterday. The doctor looks an awful lot like you when she tells me ma’s gonna be alright. I see you, father. You have a pretty smile.

Dear God,

I kissed a boy today. He tastes like apples.

Dear God,

I haven’t seen the boy I kissed in a week. The doctor won’t look me in the eyes anymore. I can’t see you. Where are you?

Dear God,

Would you come running if I burn the words that praise you? Would you come running, not for your kin or your children, but for yourself?

I must say, fire looks prettier than your smile. I rather like it. The smell of your beloved bible burning stings my nose. How very sweet.

GOD,

IT HURTS. IT HURTS. MOTHER CARVED MY EYE OPEN WITH A CROSS. NOW MY EYE BEARS THE CROSS YOU HUNG ON. HOW AWFUL. IT HURTS. I CAN SEE YOU.

Father,

Mother died today. The doctor cried. I see you. Do you know how I figured that was you, right there?

There was no sorrow in those tears.

God,

What do I call you, now that I have deemed you unworthy of prayer? You are not human. You are not holy. You are cruel and twisted. You, do you exist? No. No, you exist. If you don’t exist, then that means I am my own God. Then that means I am the one who hates me so. You exist. Can you see me? I can’t see you.

I think I know what to call you. Coward sure does have a good ring to it.

Coward,

No one knows I talk to you.

I laugh when someone brings up your name when I’m in the room. I spit on your existence. I don’t pray. But I talk to you. Because it’s soothing to pretend you’re here. You villain. It’s easier to pretend I’m just a stray searching for its way back to Bethlehem. Easier to pretend there is no freedom for a stray. I roam the streets searching for you with my leash in my mouth, whimpering, weeping, howling. It’s terrifying to be alone. So I talk. If I am the cause of my own demons, then what’s adding one more to the roster?

Demon,

I made a priest go mad with anger today. In my defense, he kissed me back. I was the one who let go, too. A perfect gentleman. He told me I would never know of the lord ever again. I wanted to tell him: you silly thing. I have known him my whole life.

He is a stray stuck on the top of a lonely mountain. He is your father, the one that beats you black and blue for your own good. He is the light that blinds you. He is the filth that spills out of your mouth. He’s the hands you pulled me closer with. He is the holiest sin. To be holy is to be sinful. To sin is a thing of beauty. Beauty has always been bloody. I know God. He is the bloodiest one of them all.

Dear God,

I like to talk to you because one day, when I find my way home, I can fall to my knees in front of you. Father, look at these teeth you’ve given me. Father, I will promise to make you holy again. Father, why are you screaming? Father, don’t be scared, it all happens for a reason. Did you know a stray doesn’t cross the path of another in fear that the other will sink its teeth in its fur? Is that way you hid from me for so long, Father?

Father, look at these teeth you’ve given me. My hair was never sheep-white, was it? It has always been the white of Lilith’s fangs. I will see you again, Father. You would be proud to see the man your son has grown to be.

Can you hear me, Father? Soon, I will be the holiest (bloodiest) of them all. Watch out for my teeth, father. Watch out for the one stray you never came back for.