#zee talks about stuffed animals

[soft-and-fluffy-corner]

I got the winter sads, so we're reading together

[ifangirlalot]

she's my collar | zee's request form

╭──────༺♡༻──────╮ *𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒* ╰──────༺♡༻──────╯

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༻❝ angst ❞༺ 1.) "That's not what I meant, and you know it." 2.) "You told me not to worry about him/her." 3.) "I never said I loved you." 4.) "I didn't want to believe them, because you were supposed to be different! But… They were right. They were so fucking right about you." 5.) "I hate that my bed still smells like you." 6.) "You should have been here, goddamn it!" 7.) "Until death do us part, huh?" 8.) "I loved you, I really did." 9.) "You changed a lot." 10.) "I wish we never met."

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༻❝ jealousy ❞༺ 1.) "No way.. you're actually jealous." 2.) "Oh come on. You and I both knew what he/she was doing." 3.) (While laughing) "Oh my god, I've never seen you so mad before." 4.) (Forcefully) "Kiss me." "Sorry, what?" 5.) "I thought we were supposed to stay a little longer.. Why are we leaving?" 6.) "What the fuck was that?" 7.) "I didn't know you were the jealous type." 8.) "He/she looked at you funny.." 9.) "Do you ever ask why I get this way? Maybe it's because- y'know what, nevermind.." 10.) "You don't do that with me.."

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༻❝ smut ❞༺ 1.) "You're not, uh.. You're not wearing anything under that… are you.." 2.) "Wow, I didn't realize you were so.. flexible.." 3.) "I'm gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever even met that asshole." 4.) "Are you trying to turn me on right now or are you just really oblivious?" 5.) "You better shut that pretty little mouth before I put it to work, doll." 6.) "FUCK, why do you taste like fucking candy?" 7.) "I know they're just stuffed animals, but it kinda feels like they're watching us." 8.) "Baby, I know for a fact you're not new to using the shower head. Now do it right." 9.) "We've been at it like rabbits! How are you still so horny?!" 10.) "Your ass is gonna be seven shades of red after that little stunt."

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༻❝ protective ❞༺ 1.) "Don't you hurt a single hair on his/her/their head." 2.) "Hands off!" 3.) "What the hell do you think you're doing?" 4.) "Don't you ever leave my sight again!" 5.) "Be more careful next time. I don't want to bandage you up again." 6.) "Hey, it's cold outside. At least wear a jacket, okay?" 7.) "No, don't do that. It's not safe." 8.) "I can't sleep not knowing where you are." 9.) "What happened? I thought I told you to stay by my side!" 10.) "How long has it been since you've eaten?"

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༻❝ fluff ❞༺ 1.) "What? You looked cold." 2.) "You talk in your sleep… you love me?" 3.) "Can we stay like this a little longer?" 4.) "Is that my shirt, babe?" 5.) "Can I play with your hair?" 6.) "You don't have to ask to kiss me, silly!" 7.) "I don't deserve you. I don't deserve any of this." 8.) "You mean the whole fucking world to me, do you know that?" 9.) "Have you ever seen something prettier than this?" "Yeah, you." 10.) "I genuinely don't know why my brain just goes blank when I look at you. I think I'm going a little crazy."

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╭──────༺♡༻──────╮ *𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒* ╰──────༺♡༻──────╯

༻❝ cans ❞༺ 1.) You CAN request with more than one line of dialogue! (Up to 4) 2.) You CAN request for more than one character. (You'll have to specify if it is meant to be a preference sort of thing or if you want a poly.) 3.) You CAN request a character x male reader! 4.) You CAN request AU headcanons! 5.) You CAN request a plot using one of these lines of dialogue!

༻❝ cannots ❞༺ 1.) You CANNOT request using abuse, sexual assault, rape (I can do non-con and dub-con, but I will never agree to full out rape), or self harm. 2.) You CANNOT spam my inbox if I don't get to your request right away.

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[sevikasmainwhore]

♥︎Arcane Headcanons♥︎

Jayce was a fun loving chubby kid. He just gives me that vibe and I love him for it. (he still a bitch to me)

Mel has a white bonnet with gold accents. Allora questioned why she wears it too sleep and after some explaining from Mel, she gifts them to her with different colors and types too

It’s an odd headcanon but I really think that another hobby of Vi’s is drawing. Nothing serious just her doodling whenever she doesn’t really wanna work out.

Mylo was silver toothed kid. He was a sweet little boy but he was also really sneaky.

Claggor and Mylo are really well known in the Undercity , not because they’re Vanders Kids, but because Mylo always gets himself into shit and Claggor is right behind him defending him or trying to get him out of it.

Same with Ekko and Powder but they never get caught. As in people know they did it but never have enough proof because they’re just too quick.

Caitlyn was one of those kids that had all the really cool and updated school supplies.

In a Modern AU, I really feel like Jayce would be a streamer.

Jayce is Lactose Intolerant

Sevika and Renata are 4lifers. (no i won’t elaborate)

Everyone in the entire show has at least one or more stuffed animal (s) or plushies somewhere in their room.

Grayson is an Outkast fan.

Sevika loves Western/Cowboy movies (Cowboy!Sevika??????um hello???)

Caitlyn hates white chocolate

Sevikas biological father taught her to gamble. It was most likely the best way they could bond

Vi let’s Jinx give her new tattoos as a sister bonding time since it might be hard for her to talk to her without a misunderstanding

Sevika was like an Aunt to Vanders Kids (i think we all knew this)

She taught Vi everything she needed to know about fighting

I really don’t wanna believe Sevika hates them I just feel like since she couldn’t have a really good relationship with her father then they shouldn’t have one ya know?

Vi had a pet rat named Zee

Powder had a pet rat too but she lost it. As in she set it down when she was looking for trinkets and it scampered

Mylo had an older brother who taught him how to lock pick

Grayson and Vander had a thing when they were younger but fell off when Grayson became an enforcer (i still strongly believe grayson had a wife waiting at home for her♡ lol me)

Jinx surprisingly is a really good cook. Baking is her specialty

Vander had a dog that slept around the Last Drop and was just a huge comfort to everyone their. Sevika named him. His name was Rylo

Someone mentioned to Vander (Ran, it was Ran) that he should have a live band.

Ran loves the drums and acoustic guitar.

Ambessa never knew how to take care of kids so she took Mel and Her brother to an art museum as like a bonding exercise or something and it started Mel’s whole passion for art

Mel and Caitlyn have really sophisticated but childish conversations with each other

They’ve painted together, They’ve had tea together. Mel is like Caitlyn’s second best friend. (what could’ve been)

Mel is most likely the only council members Caitlyn can trust. (what could’ve been :( )

Grayson is like a very strict motherly figure to Marcus. Like he can come to her whenever he needs too but She’s still your Captain

“Don’t ever bite the hand that feeds you, And Don’t ever bite the hand that could possibly beat yo ass—”. Vi’s Daily Affirmation

Silco gifted Sevika her own playing cards after he saw her playing with some of his lower goons.

One time Viktor showed up early to the lab on what was supposed to be his off day to find neatly wrapped chopped fruit with a note “ Make sure you eat and Get plenty of rest”(it was from Sky shhhhhhhhh)

Ekko has a blue satin bonnet with lime green accents.

Ekko gifted Jinx her own hoverboard and since then they both go into Piltover and vandalize what ever they can.

Viktor thinks of Ekko and Jinx as his little hench children. He loves them dearly (what I hope to happen :D)

this is all i have. :) thank you.

[super-hero-girls-netflix]

I'm back :D

Headcanons on sleepover (Boys and Girls)?

Girls First!

#1: Zee NEEDS to be Host if it's the whole group

Zee hosts as often as she can because she likes sleeping in her own bed and not having Babs' dad knocking on the door every 5 minutes.

It's also hard to coerce convince the girls into magical makeovers if she has to be alert about using her magic.

Also...she is positive that Commissioner Gordon suspects her of murder. (He doesn't, he just has the naturally narrow eyed thoughtful look)

Zee, in other words, prefers to host their sleepovers.

#2: Babs is a Wriggler, Kara is a Thrasher, Jess is a Talker

Diana, Zee and Karen are relatively quiet sleepers. Like sure Diana snores a bit and Karen might drool and Zee might shift in her sleep but they are NOTHING compared to Babs, Kara and Jess.

They are nightmares to sleep with. Babs wriggles in her sleep and babbles too. Especially if she's stressed. She'll be talking utter nonsense. Literally like 'waffles have feelings too' or 'butterfly fart machine'. No one shares a bed with Babs because she is known for stealing the covers and wrapping herself in them. Like a Babs Burrito. And if you try to take some back she will shove you off the bed. Still very much asleep.

Kara, she is a hazard to people everywhere. At least if you don't know how to control sleepy Kara. The girls know the control word 'go back to bed' but that only helps them when Kara tries to fly away. If she's kicking and or punching it's doom. Typically her erratic attacks are sparse and weak, so just like a pro-wrestler but badly aimed, but still...no one sleeps within 5 feet of Kara Danvers.

And lastly Jess. Jess is not much of a physical threat while asleep. She stays in the same position and doesn't even drool or snore or anything. But in the middle of the night you might hear a yelp, or a drawn out very loud groan. That's Jess, she groans a lot in her sleep, regularly. And if she's extremely stressed she'll even mantain conversation. Very poorly. Kara tried once. It went like this.

Jess: The moon, is just a ball of cheese.

Kara: Oh? Can your eat it?

Jess: Like a rock

Kara: What do you mean?

Jess: I'm nice, you're mean.

So yeah...they can share a bed with this chic and they have. That's why most if them sleep with headphones tucked into their ears.

#3 Movie Night

Karen hates horror movies. They creep her out and Kara is obsessed with them.

In fact while Karen and Kara argue about which genre to watch, romance or horror, the rest of the girls watch them fight.

Which is more amusing then it sounds.

#4 Diana can't cook

Diana is a girl of many talents but she can not cook. Not a bit. Not even instant mac and cheese.

Babs has tried to show her how to make a burrito- failed.

Jess a salad- failed.

Karen, some stir fry- failed.

Kara, warning up some pizza- failed.

She just can't cook. Moving on.

#5 Babs is generous with everything BUT her stuffed animals.

These are things she has said:

"Rest your feet somewhere else, Kara"

"Burrito Bat Butch hasn't cuddled with anyone but me, ever. Hands off!"

"Listen, if you wanted a pillow you can just ask- you don't have to treat General George Jennings like that!"

"Give me the bear, Karen. Give me the bear."

"EEY, NO TOUCHIE!"

#6 They can't do a proper Binge Watch with each other.

Babs drinks a lot of soda and munches on a lot of snacks so she has to constantly use the bathroom. Insisting they can keep watching but of course they pause anyway.

Zee cannot step away from her phone. It's always vibrating with emails and messages and she is too invested in her rep to put it down. She is the type of gal who likes texting while watching a show. This drives the other girls up a wall because then Zee insists they catch her up.

Kara cannot, for the life of her, sit still. Even though they are curled up on the couch, one of the girls leaning into Kara's side, or having their head on Kara's lap. Or anything, really. Kara breaks the comfort because she cannot sit still. She shifts too often, changes the legs she tucked under her, stretches her back. It is annoying because then the girls around her need to shift too.

Jess gets restless quickly. She predicts the ending or loses interest when the plot becomes to predictable. So then she starts, trying to be subtle, looking through her schedule and doing school work. Its more infuriating because when the girls ask pointed questions she almost always gets it right.

Diana is of course knew to the world of man and stills doesn't get everything that is happening. Sometimes she misunderstands the plot completely and they have to rewatch the episode, explaining everything that time. This makes the watching chunky and somewhat less enjoyable. Usually Zee is the one to do the explaining. No one blames Diana of course, but still.

And Karen? She just wants to see if her ship lives. She is a fangirl through and through and has to scream into a pillow every time they have to press pause. Which is three to five time throughout a single episode.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Now for the boys,

✨✨✨✨

#1 Food Competition

Barry eats a lot. Barry is never sure how much is enough. Barry can eat a supermarket out of business if he was particularly hungry. Hal knows this. Still his pride won't accept it so every time Hal challenges Barry to eating some disgusting amount of sauce or drink.

Sometimes Hal wins.

Barry has a sensitive stomach.

But usually not.

#2 NO HOMO

Steve doesn't really care how close any if the dudes sleep to him.

Barry doesn't either. In fact its likely he'll fall asleep on someone else's sleeping bag with his feet propped on one of his teammates stomach.

Garth will probably end up trying to cuddle up to Hal or Barry or Steve or any of the boys.

Hal will most definitely fight him on that. What can you say? He's the Type A male. But he really won't bat an eye if Garth does it when Hal is already asleep.

Oliver will sing love songs to his bro's, flirting hard as hell...up untill Hal, Carter, or Steve smack him. Where he pouts and let's Garth and Barry soothe him.

Carter doesn't like being touched in general so like hell he's going to let any of the boys near him. Or hold a conversation with him. He will just sit in the corner of the room, quietly observing. (He is most definitely trapped in the home where they are hosting the sleepover).

#3 Make Him Laugh

Another challenge.

Whoever makes Carter smile or *le gasp* laugh is deemed royalty.

Usually it's Barry. Who didn't even try. He just tripped over something.

Barry wins a lot.

#4 They Order In

Hal refuses to cook on principle. Rather be fed.

Oliver doesn't like getting butter on him since it'll 'destroy' his complexion.

Garth can't cook.

Carter refuses to feed anyone. He'll cook for himself and no one else.

Barry always offers but he is a forgetful cook and they feel bad throwing out whatever abomination he makes so they force it down. Of course, they learned to order in before Barry offers.

Steve can cook but he is very precise about the recipe, double checking and stuff so being fed takes forever if they let him start.

They arm wrestle to decide who chooses what they eat so yea...Carter always picks. Steve usually pays. Barry too. Everyone else is broke as hell.

#6 They butt heads.

All the dam time.

Hal is stubborn and Oliver is prideful.

Carter refuses to cater to anyone.

Garth is immovable if he wants to be.

Steve is trying to compromise but no one listens to the voice of reason over their own shouts.

Barry eats ice cream. They'll tire themselves out eventually.

#7 They Reprimand Hal

These are things they have definitely said at least once during a sleepover.

"Goddammit Hal! She's my science partner! How am I supposed to look her in the eye now?"

"Do you value your life? Yes? Then please refrain from speaking."

"Shut! Up!"

"Who are you calling stupid, stupid!"

"I'll tell Carol."

"The hell, man? Were you born with the unexplicable urge to be an asshole?"

"Go to bed, perv!"

Ah well, imma close it off here. Very lovely prompt. Headcannons are always fun. 👍

[ill-skillsgard]

Bred For Blood - Part 16 - Eye in the Sky

Title: Bred For Blood

Warning: 18+ - sex/mature language & themes/gun violence/substance abuse etc. *this part contains death, blood/injuries, drug use, mentions of sexual manipulation*

Characters: AU Axel Cluney, AU Ivar Lothbrok, AU Valter x OC

Description:  A bright, young survivor meets an acid-gun slinging headhunter with a knack for melting faces and connections to a prodigal Utopia embedded in the heart of a deadly forest. Violence and passion incite a battle of fealty while betrayal nips at Zed’s heels.

Note: Over the months and months I’ve developed this story, a lot of it has changed. I’ve adhered to the same general storyline I originally came up with, but it’s taken on a different life. I’m realizing I fall under the “discovery writer” category more than ever. So, thank you for taking this fun journey with me as it unfolds! I appreciate all the comments and kind words <3 Let me know your thoughts as we travel toward the end of this funky little series I started forever ago.  

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Axel gaped at his wounded palm. An uneven split forced his middle and ring finger apart at a nauseating angle. The longer he stared, the more his arms trembled from the sight of his bisected tendons. Blood cascaded down his arm in swaths, more blood than he had ever spilled, collecting in sandy globs. In his horror, he almost forgot about the man bemoaning his death several feet away. Axel tried clenching a fist, but blistering agony shot through his wrist and forearm, crackling along severed nerves and stiffening his stained fingers. Disotto had been right; he’d never use his trigger-finger again.

Acid boiled in Axel’s stomach, a mixture of anger and dread. He turned to Rex writhing on the ground, assessing his wound crusted with sand and coagulating plasma. The hunter keened over Rex’s worse condition. Again, the Zeronauts failed to kill him, though his vision grew cloudy. Axel found his knife and shifted his weight off the side of the Rover, toward the man whispering prayers through bubbles of blood. When Rex caught wind of Axel’s approach, the man cowered, shielding his face with his tarry hands.

“I’m only following orders,” the slashed man shouted. “Please! If you’re gonna kill me, just do it.”

“No, I won’t put you out of your misery. I want your death to be slow and painful. Like how you left Glott back there,” said Axel.

The hunter shimmied closer, flipping his knife in his right hand to carve off an unstained strip of Rex’s cotton jersey shirt. Rex quivered as Axel wrapped the cloth around his left hand tightly. The blue material blossomed with blood, turning a deathly shade of indigo in seconds. He went for another swath of the man’s clothing, ripping the sleeve off to fold over the hole in his hand. Axel glimpsed the open wound in Rex’s side, then looked up at his wild eyes, shifting around in their sockets like a dying animal searching for an escape.

“Tell me about this Dal guy you and your buddies were talking about. Is he your leader or something? He calls the shots?” Axel asked.

Rex spat a gob of blood, laughing as it rolled down his whiskered chin. “What do you think?”

Axel held the knife under Rex’s nose. “I think you’ll die with a few more nasty cuts on your body if you don’t tell me where I can find your leader. I’ll carve you like a turkey, my man.”

“That’s the thing about us... We don’t have leaders, just as the Unity intended. There are Brights, and there’s Uns, and it’s us against them. You kill one of us, and there’s a hundred more to take our place,” Rex claimed.

“No. It’s not you against them; It’s you against the planet. The Brights are the ones saving your sorry asses. You anarchists can’t seem to understand that we need them.”

Rex’s stone-grey eyes fluttered as he took in a trembling breath. “Why do you fucking care? The Unity wanted you dead, too.”

Axel looked down at his fake teardrop. If he hadn’t been fighting in the war, would they have considered him for immunization? It was a question Axel asked himself a thousand times, and the answer was always negative. He should have died in the storms, but he hadn’t. The spores didn’t reach the ocean, and therefore, never had the chance to infect him or the small crew of abandoned soldiers sailing home.

Axel grimaced at his stained forearm. “That doesn’t mean I want to kill every brightblood I find.”

“No. But you’ll use them to protect yourself. Just like we do,” Rex said with a sticky smile.

“Fuck you. Your little band of outlaws is exactly the people they tried to eradicate. People who only see others as slaves.”

“The Brightlings you care so much about are bred for blood. Blood that we need to survive—that you need to survive. The Unity branded them like cattle for easy picking.”

Axel rose to his knees, wincing from the slash above his ankle. “That’s the thinking that’s getting you and all your merry men killed. Rapists, slave-drivers, murderers... There's no room for you on this planet.”

“What does that make you, Mister Zee?”

“Yeah, I’m a killer. And I’ll die a killer if it means getting rid of scum like you,” Axel said, spitting on Rex’s dirtied face.

A low chuckle rumbled in Rex’s esophagus, tapering off as he shut his eyes, limbs turning limp where he lay sprawled over the sand.

Axel sat for a moment to catch his breath, then crawled from body to body, checking their pockets and patting down stiff torsos for anything useful. He found a few rounds of ammunition, a half-full pack of cigarettes, a glass pipe with a burnt and bulbous end, another butane lighter, a folded piece of paper bearing his likeness and several uncut rubies. He tossed the crack pipe and kept the rest, stuffing it all into his pockets with his left arm pressed to his side.

A dry wind swept in from the South, the direction he needed to go if he could only haul himself to a stand. He sat slumped over, unlacing his boot to get a better look at his wounded ankle. The cut was deep and gushing still. He bandaged his ankle in the same way he had his hand—with the jersey cotton stripped from Rex’s shirt. After winding the dressing around his foot, it was too bulky to stuff back into his boot, so he left it behind as he crawled toward the duffle bag of papers from Glott’s lab. He emptied his pockets into the bag, then grabbed his rifle. A grisly piece of meat from the other Zeronaut’s face still clung to the butt where Axel had cracked his mouth apart. Though he couldn’t shoot acid, the weapon doubled as a club if he encountered more bounty hunters.

Stretching his right arm behind his back, he found the mushrooms he’d tucked in his pocket. In the bright afternoon light, the brown fibres glistened, white spots speckling the meaty caps atop long, feathery stems. Axel licked his lips but refrained from ingesting the mysterious fungus he found growing inside Glott’s supply closet. The last thing he needed was to poison himself. He was already sure he would die in the desert, if not from blood-loss, then from dehydration. The mushrooms were a last resort. He pocketed them again.

Axel assessed his itinerary. Although he’d sustained severe mutilation and a punctured ankle, he came away with another gun, more cigarettes and a few hundred thousand dollars' worth of stones. Axel saw no use for the rubies, but some people still valued objects more than human blood, so he kept them. It seemed unlikely he’d cross anyone who only wanted to trade, but the stones gave him a sense of comfort in case he happened upon a post.

If he was to consider what Rex said about a hundred more Zeronauts taking his place, Axel had to assume everyone was now an enemy. How many Zeronauts were there? Had they recruited more survivors, swelling their ranks while he pissed away his time in Kinderfeld? He shook his head and wobbled from dizziness. There was no more time for contemplation. Axel had to remain present.

On foot, getting back to the domes would take days, but with two of his limbs decommissioned, it would take much longer. He took all he could carry from the Rover and packed it into the duffle bag, including his last inches of water and two mystery packs of army rations. Axel scanned the horizon, took a step and cried out from the bolt of pain in his leg. Limping without a crutch was impossible, so he lowered to his knees and crawled in the direction from which his three assailants had come. They must have had a camp or a vehicle he could raid somewhere.

In the desert heat, with the duffle bag more cumbersome than ever, Axel’s lag proved difficult. Pain blazed through his leg with every bend of his knee, and his elbows supported his entire weight plus the full bag pressing on his back. He army-crawled through the sand, stopping every few shuffles to rest.

Axel made it over a steep dune before the dryness entered his lungs and sucked the moisture from his mouth. He paused for a gulp of water and grieved over how little he had left.

When he found no traces of Zeronaut vehicles, he looked back and considered returning to the Rover. Even on deflated wheels, he might get farther than what his aching body could manage.

Turning back was suicidal. Axel couldn’t waste another hour retracing the trail he left behind. It was onward or nothing.

Exhaustion tugged at his eyelids after long. The agony of using his arms to pull himself along depleted what little energy he had. Axel retired his injured appendage and used his right arm and leg to shift himself over hills and rough patches of stone.

His muscles stretched and burned as the sun beat down on his skin. The strain on his body caught up with him quickly, and he had to rest before he passed out from weariness. Axel shifted the duffle bag over his head to shield from the sun, took another sip of water and laid in the dust with his eyes closed. Every few minutes, he snapped awake, unable to doze for more than a few minutes before panic shook him.

As the sun set, Axel ripped open a foil bag and devoured the tomatoes, slimy noodles, and bits of chewy sausage swimming inside. Any other day, Axel might complain about the meal, but in his weakened haze, it tasted better than anything he’d ever eaten. Washing down the food with his last bit of water, he tossed the package and crawled several yards before a dull pain in the back of his head dizzied him again.

Frequent breaks frustrated Axel, and the emerging fog disoriented his sense of direction. Soon the night took over, and Axel shivered from the icy touch on his inflamed skin. He was burnt and filthy, head pounding while his ankle and hand throbbed without end. Though he’d eaten and drank the last remnant of water he had, a persistent thirst scratched in his throat.

“Fuck, I’m gonna die,” Axel croaked. “This will be your fucking grave, Cluney. You’re done.”

When he imagined dying with the duffle bag full of invaluable information, Axel’s heart clattered in his chest. That discovery in the hands of those who wished slavery upon the brightbloods would be disastrous. If he couldn’t make it back to Kinderfeld, he had to make sure the secret died with him. Nobody would get their hands on Zed because of his negligence, he vowed.

He scaled the sands until his body gave out. Muscles screaming in pain, Axel rolled onto his back and looked up at the night sky through a thin veil of fog.

“I’m sorry, Lea. I’m a fucking failure. Valter... Fuck. I should have been there for you. I’m such a fuck-up. Such a selfish, stupid fuck-up.”

Axel closed his eyes and let the darkness take him under.

When the sun peeked over the hills, Axel awoke, spitting dirt from his mouth as he coughed and winced from the agony living in every atom of his body. He couldn’t believe he was still alive to see another powder blue sky. However, his shoulders had seized from over-exertion, and the only movement he made was the desperate intake of air. Anguish pinned him to the ground until he summoned the strength to unzip the duffle bag and rummage around, one-armed, for a cigarette and lighter.

Axel smoked while sprawled in the sand, watching puffy clouds sail overhead. There was only an hour of mild temperature before the sun climbed higher and burned away the moisture left from the misty night.

“Why am I not dead?” Axel asked himself.

A strong wind swept sheets of dust over his latent form, blinding him until his eyes watered. If he stayed where he was, by noon, he’d be half-buried. But he could barely move to stop this from happening. He saved his energy for rolling onto his stomach to fish the mushrooms from his pocket. It took half an hour to accomplish this, and by the time he had hold of the speckled caps, he did not argue against consuming them.

He gnashed the sponge and grainy strands to a pulp, swallowed, and hoped for the best. The woody flavour reminded him of old times taking dried psilocybin mushrooms as a teenager. What effects Glott’s fungi produced remained a mystery.

Axel sighed and tried not to think about Lea and Vee. He closed his eyes, picturing simpler times and places that brought him joy until he realized there were few scraps of memory that provided him with any relief. He had left home at a young age as his parents acknowledged his brother’s accelerated development and put their focus into nurturing his intelligence instead of disciplining a boy who laughed in the face of authority. While Axel set off to take drugs and contract sexually transmitted infections that required horse pills and multiple shots in the ass to cure, his family grew tighter without him. Vee grew into a man. Then came the army and quest for structure. But there was no structure in the military either. There were routines and discipline, but no sense of permanence. It only threw him into further chaos, showing him real horrors that made his small-time forays in local crime seem like a joke.

He remembered the boat ride home, the piercing silence of a desolate group of men who’d been long abandoned, forgotten by their superiors and the world. They were throwaways, disregarded by the country who first outfitted and weaponized them. Ivar was his only anchor to life without torment, and even he had changed from the war.

The only memory that didn’t haunt him was the recent times he’d spent with Azalea. She didn’t judge him harshly—only when he deserved it—for she didn’t understand the gravity of his past transgressions. Axel would give anything to be back in their conjoined apartment, drinking acidic wine with Vee, playing board games like they were kids again.

Behind his heavy lids, Axel saw the sun break without opening his eyes. A sliver of white light grew into a crescent, a half-moon, an eyeball with no iris. It blinked, staring at his feeble body with judgment.

What are you doing lying in the sand?

“I’m dying,” Axel answered the ominous voice overhead.

So soon?

“Maybe not soon enough,” said Axel.

How boring. Zeitgeist, the famous headhunter, reduced to dirt.

“It’s been a long time coming.”

The glowing orb sighed, giving off radiation Axel could feel. A red aura, wriggling like a crown of worms, throwing off golden hailstones that burst into a fine mist.

“When I was in the Middle East, I got the feeling I’d die like this. Maybe I’m some kind of low-level prophet.”

Predicting one’s own death is hardly a show of prophecy. You’ve spent your life doing things no regular person should survive. This death... This is a lifetime of poor decisions catching up with you.

“Am I talking to myself, or am I tripping?”

Perhaps a little of both.

“Hm... At least I’ll die high out of my mind. These scientists sure make great psychedelics.”

Axel opened his eyes and gasped at the sprawling panorama of white dollops convulsing over a roiling screen of blue. The clouds came closer, and he drew a breath in through his nose, tasting the thick air as he rose his good hand to the amoebic spectacle before him. The wind curled through, skewing the shapes into fresh forms, erasing and reforming them with every gust: flowers, sailboats, insects and gaping faces.

“Wow. That’s crazy,” Axel whispered, smirking.

The sand softened and welcomed his battered limbs into a cradle of warmth. A blissful smile unfurled on his face as the clouds continued their spastic dance across the never-ending sky, showing him dreamy visions of abstract figures.

“I wish I was home. I never took Lea out to ride dirt bikes.”

Then go home, Axel. Go back to your family. Tell them what you know. Be the hero, not just the man with the best gun and biggest balls.

“But I can’t move!” Axel whined.

The ground buzzed underneath him as though each grain sprouted legs to carry him through the desolation. Millions of tiny ants worked together to haul his body across the desert as if they understood the importance of his return to Kinderfeld. He longed to scratch the itch at his back, but his arms were leaden.

“What happens if I die and they never find out about Lea?”

Then you die, and they die not long after.

“No. Don’t say that.”

You’re the one saying it.

A sinking sensation opened in Axel’s chest as his nerves responded to the numbing effect of the mushrooms. Soon, Axel was floating on a cloud, the ants falling away as his pupils expanded, and his brain’s chemistry changed.

Take her to the Maw. That’s what Glott said. Get up and go home.

“She hates me.”

She trusts you.

“I’ll die before I get there. It’s pointless.”

If there’s no point, you might as well keep crawling.

“But I’m so comfortable. Is this what dying really feels like?”

I guess you’ll find out soon enough.

Axel sighed. “Maybe it’s not so bad... Dying.”

Sure, you can die on a cloud, smiling like an idiot, while your enemies are out there looking for a way into your home to kill your brother and rape the woman you promised to protect. Or you can keep crawling.

“Y’know, for the sun, you have a dark sense of humour.”

Better get going before someone else finds you and gets their hands on those papers.

Muddled and rash from the whiplash of the mind, Axel reached back into the duffle bag, feeling around for the hand-written documents. When his fingers skated over a smooth sheet, he crumpled it and brought the loose wad to his mouth. Axel stuffed the paper between his teeth and chewed.

Through a mouthful of paper and ink, Axel giggled and reached for another sheet but found his lighter instead.

He burned the rest, chuckling as tears poured down the sides of his head.

~*~

Zed watched Ivar’s chest expand and retract while they laid together in a nest of damp sheets. Silent, she bit down on her lip as the king turned to her, an elated smile revealing all of his teeth.

“Wow,” he whispered. “That was... Wow.”

Zed flushed from the silly look he gave her. “Stop it.”

“Lea...”

“Ivar?”

The King turned on his side and pulled her close, tucking his face under her jaw. She embraced him while staring up at the billowing ceiling. She wondered what the Chrysalis looked like stripped of all its livery. Was it still as beautiful without the ornate clothing? She shook her head and fluttered her eyes, pushing away irrelevant thoughts.

“Can I be honest with you?” Ivar asked.

“I hope so,” Zed whispered, shuffling her nose into his rose-scented hair.

“I’ve had a lot of—I mean, I’m no prude, but that was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life.”

“Oh, be quiet,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Ivar drew back to peer into her in the eyes, his playful smile replaced with palpable seriousness. “I’m telling you the truth. Your body... It’s like you were made for me. You're so beautiful, I want to drape you over me forever and wear you like ear-muffs.”

“What would you know about ear-muffs, oh king of the desert?”

“Plenty.” Ivar’s smile returned. “I hale from the North. They don’t call me Viking for nothing.”

“Right,” she said.

Ivar put a little more distance between them, sensing her discomfort.

“What’s the matter? You’re okay with what happened, right?”

Zed snapped a smile over her lips. “Yes! I don’t know how many times you asked for my permission. It was only a matter of time before we...”

“Made love?”

The thermal rush of nerves returned to her cheeks. “Yes. Made love.”

“I don’t want you to regret it because I don’t. The moment you walked into this place, I swore off all other women. I only wanted you in my life. And I’m glad you pulled off whatever mischievous thing you had to get in here. Waking up to your face was heavenly.”

Zed welcomed him back into her arms. He laid his head on her chest. "I’m glad you’re not mad at me," she said. "I worried you’d send me away. But it was worth the risk."

Ivar stroked her bare skin, sighing. “It’s only for our protection.”

“But they can’t get in here. Not unless we allow them.”

Ivar stared across the room at the curtained entrance. “I don’t know anymore, Lea.”

“What do you mean?” She whispered.

“There are many hostiles out there now. More than I ever predicted.”

“How do you know this?”

“I've seen them.”

Zed’s heart plummeted, skipping a beat as a wave of dread squeezed her throat. Ivar rolled onto his back, ready to admit things to her he had told no one. Not even Axel.

“Do you remember that night I cancelled on you?”

“Yes, we were supposed to have dinner.”

I had dinner with Axel instead.

“It wasn’t because dwellers were looking for trade and shelter. It was a group of scavs looking for Zee.”

“The Zeronauts?” Zed gasped.

Ivar nodded grimly. “There’s a bounty on him—a big one. They came looking for Zee, threatening to blow up the compound if I didn’t turn him over. I said he wasn’t inside, that he’d left a while ago. At first, they didn’t believe me, but I guess I must have convinced them.”

Zed sat up in bed, clutching the sheet to her bare chest. “What did you do?”

“I suppose my acting skills paid off. They wanted to take me up on my word, search around the village, but I refused. By then, they realized the firepower we had and backed off. I didn’t expect them to return so soon.”

“But... Axel went out there. What if they found him? What if he’s dead?”

Ivar closed his eyes before tears emerged. “I know. But what can I do? He made his own choice. He didn’t want to stay, and to be honest, Lea, I didn’t want him here either. Not after what that filthy scav said.”

Zed’s nerves flared. “Now you listen to me. What Monk said was not true! I did not have sex with Axel in that camp. And if you refuse to believe me, then... Maybe I will end up regretting what we did.”

“It’s so hard to buy that, Lea,” Ivar said.

“Why? You don’t trust me?”

He gave a discourteous snicker and rolled his eyes. “Because I know Zee. A lot better than you do.”

“You’d take the word of a total stranger over mine?”

“I wanted to reject what the scav said. But he said something that struck me. Something I couldn’t discount.”

Zed glared at him. “And what’s that?”

He scoffed, unable to produce the words until he weighed the insult on Zed’s face.

“Wanna go boing-boing on Daddy’s dick?” Ivar mocked.

The heat fizzled from her face like a hot iron in cold water. Ivar shot her a knowing glance and nodded. “See? That look tells me everything. I’ve known Zee for years. We’ve shared enough that I know all his cheeky little lines.”

“We didn’t have sex! Yes, he pretended I was his slave to protect me. We didn’t know what we were walking into. He said it was a commune, but when we arrived, the Zeronauts had already taken over. They had a dozen guns pointed at us. It scared us, Ivar. You need to trust me. If you have feelings for me, you should believe when I say I never touched Axel like that.”

“What about the night you bugged out and leapt into his arms?”

Zed lowered her voice as her heart shuddered. “He was my only friend. You and I had just met, and the stories about you... I wasn’t ready. I spent a year in the desert by myself. I’d never done drugs, never met anyone like you guys. He helped me.”

“I want to believe you, Lea.”

“Then believe me!” Her voice rang through the room. “No one ever believes me! Not you, not them, not my friends when I was taken advantage of.”

Ivar cocked his head. “What are you talking about?”

Tears flowed over Zed’s cheeks as ghosts of her past breathed vexing reminders in her ear. What she read in Axel’s journal unearthed the memory she hated most and forced her to relive it in tainted colour. Now Ivar’s incredulity brought back the sting of betrayal she wished to forget.

“The first person I ever had sex with used me as a joke! He pretended to love me, and after I gave myself to him, he told everyone disgusting lies. He conned me out of my virginity. Someone who vowed I could trust him; that would protect me and make sure I was happy. I was nothing but a conquest. Bragging rights. And the worst part is... While I was being lied to, while he took my innocence, you and Axel were overseas fucking strippers! You behaved the same way that pig did! Then I finally trusted again—after you and Axel promised to keep me safe—and both of you fucked me over! Why do men only believe each other? Does what I say hold such little meaning to you?”

Ivar’s face froze.

“You are the only other person I have ever let inside me, and you’re making me regret it just like he did,” Zed cried.

“Lea—”

“Why would I lie to you? Why would Axel lie to you? He loves you like a brother, and I’ve seen how much he values his family.”

The king took her in his arms, and she rested her damp forehead on his shoulder.

“How do you know about that stuff?”

“I read Axel’s journals from the army. Vee gave them to me. He thought they might help me stop missing him.”

“Listen, I don’t know what you read in those journals, but I promise you, I’m not that man anymore, Lea. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you to him. Everyone loves Zee. Any girl I liked always wanted him because he’s famous. Handsome. Funny. My jealousy got in the way.”

“You’re all those things too, Ivar. Everyone here loves you. They made you a king, for Christ’s sake!”

“Only because Zee didn’t want to lead. But I get it, and I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. I should have trusted you. Both of you.”

Lea sniffled, blinking against the remnants of tears, and hugged Ivar close. “We wouldn’t lie to you, Ivar.”

He smoothed his fingers down her spine, nuzzling into her braided hair and the closeness he’d almost chased away.

A quiet moment passed before Zed spoke up. “We have to search for him.”

Ivar shook his head. “No. We’re not leaving. Nobody is. Not while those scavengers are prowling. It’s too dangerous.”

“Ivar—”

“I’m serious, Lea. Nobody leaves. Zee can take care of himself.”

“It’s more than finding Axel. Everyone is scared, Ivar. We need medical equipment, doctors, something. People are dying here, too. Not just out there.”

A stubborn line appeared between Ivar’s brows. “We can hold out for a while. Supplies will come to us. There will be more dwellers at our door. We can start a trade with people who already know the outside. It’s too dangerous to send anyone, and we need all the men we can get to protect the village.”

Zed wanted to grab Ivar by the shoulders and shake and scream in his face, but they were both still too raw from the revelations they’d shared. She had to make calculated moves, one of them recognizing when to hold back. Ivar was bullheaded, but she had chipped away a layer of his mistrust. If she could convince Ivar to value her word as much as Axel’s, there was a chance of progress. Zed knew sleeping with him wouldn’t throw open the gates, but she made a bit of headway, and that was enough to settle her stomach for now.

"Fine. You're right. We should stay here and wait," Zed conceded.

The couple spent the rest of the morning tangled in the sheets. Zed did not suggest an excursion beyond the walls again, but maintained her resolve when Ivar let his feelings gush forth. He claimed to love her, but Zed suspected the king viewed his world through a romantic veil. Ivar couldn’t be in love. He didn’t know her well enough. But she let him revel in his fantasy.

She wondered if she was capable of love. With her trust in others injured and the state of the world in ruins, love seemed a burdensome child, hanging onto the ankles of a society struggling to recover. Fine to dabble in, like drink and drugs, but not a motto for advancement.

News of Axel’s bounty shocked her to the core. While Ivar pulsated between her legs, whispering words of praise and adoration against her neck, Zed stared at a distant spot on the wall, numb, hoping beyond hope her friend was still alive.

After breakfast, Ivar relinquished his grip on her, and she made her way to the lab to find Vee.

Zed entered the facility and found the gurneys empty. Confused, she searched the rest of the lab, turning up nothing, then made her way to Vee’s apartment. She rapped on the door, but nobody answered. She knocked harder, waited, then sighed and turned down the hall. The locked door to the incubation room opened, and Vee stepped out, looking surprised and relieved to see her.

“Lea! Finally. I was worrying.”

Zed noticed the whites of his eyes veined with red, the ditches beneath them dark and heavy. Light blond stubble lined his jaw and upper lip. It looked like he hadn’t slept since their last conversation.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

He shook his head, unsure of where to begin listing off the things that had gone wrong through the night.

“It’s a long, long story. And I’m starving. Do you have time to sit down?” He asked.

“Yes, of course,” Zed replied, worry rushing her tone.

Vee led the way to his apartment and held the door open for her. She took a seat on the sofa and waited for the scientist to return with a plate of dry-fried zucchini cakes. The scent wafted toward her, making her stomach growl.

“So, our patient died of his kidney failure last night. He never woke up,” Vee said before taking a bite of a cake. “I wish we had hot sauce in this place. Or salt.”

“What? Are you serious?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “We expected it. He knew it; we saw it coming. There was nothing we could do.”

Zed stared at Vee, awe-struck by his nonchalance. “What about Serena?”

“That I’m not sure. I think Sheraya took her back to the Hives to be alone.”

“What did you do with the body?” Zed asked.

“I didn’t do a thing. I was too busy dealing with the incubators we lost,” Vee supplied. “Lora had the guards remove him. She spent all night sterilizing the lab while I cleaned up after the lost specimens.”

She gasped. "What does this mean?"

"The experiments are gone—failed."

The sleep-deprived man finished a portion of his meal and offered the rest to Zed, who held her hand up in refusal.

“My work is truly lost, and the guards had to bury six children and one adult last night.”

“I don’t understand,” Zed shook her head. “How did the incubators fail?”

“Well, it’s not that they failed per se, rather we failed them. We don’t have the emulsions left to simulate amniotic fluid. Like I’ve been saying for weeks: our supplies are bone-dry. The people who built this place did not supply it with enough to bring a fetus to term, or they banked on traditional implantation, and I, for one, have no idea how to accomplish that. I studied advanced chemistry, not how to create humans from scratch. As much as I’d like to play God, I’m just a fucking scientist making do with what I have—which is nothing.”

Tragedy after tragedy, woe after woe, Zed buckled and fell against Vee, shaking and scrabbling for comfort. He set his half-empty plate aside to hold her close. The misfortune already had its chance to wrack his body, hence the dark blue crescents masking his eyes. By then, Vee was almost catatonic. The dread of telling Zed the news was part of the reason he hadn’t slept.

“I tested them though... The specimens. The mutation carries.”

Zed rolled her face on his shoulder, sopping the tears from her eyes as she pulled back with a sniffle.

“Really?”

“Yes. So, that’s some good news, right?” Vee said, lightening his expression for her comfort.

She nodded weakly. “What about the mixed-bloods?”

“One carried and one did not. Mine carried too,” he said with a lopsided smile.

Despite a positive report, Zed still couldn’t find it in herself to smile back.

“Vee, I’m so sorry about all of this. I wish there were something I could do, but I’m afraid my efforts last night yielded no results. Ivar is dead set on keeping the gates closed. And... He told me something else. Something terrible,” Zed said, picking at a cuticle as she avoided her friend’s stare.

“What now?”

“He said there’s a huge bounty out on Axel. He knew about it this whole time, and he just let him walk right into a trap.”

Vee leaned back, a flat expression on his face. He swallowed and closed his eyes, tilting his head back to rest on the sofa.

“Of course there’s a bounty on him,” he sighed.

Zed continued picking at a hangnail. There was nothing of comfort she could offer, so she shifted closer to Vee and laid her head against his shoulder. Vee brought his arm around her and rested his head on hers. They stayed that way for a while, unsure of how to progress. In all the bleakness of recent times, Zed was thankful to have someone who understood the gravity of their worsening situation. Vee was the only person buoying her above the most profound depression she’d felt since losing herself in the desert.

Despite the barbed strikes against them, Zed couldn’t hold back another sombre dirge. Every shred of hope slipped from her grasp. She wanted her mother and father—someone to hear and share her sorrows and offer her guidance.

“He’s going to die out there, isn’t he?” Zed asked.

Vee squeezed her shoulder. “I don’t know, Lea. That might not be comforting, but it’s the truth. Who knows what will happen now?”

“And sleeping with Ivar got me nowhere. I feel so foolish,” she whispered, voice cracking. “I was stupid to think I could change anything.”

Though she couldn’t see it, Vee frowned. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have allowed that to happen. You shouldn’t have had to resort to doing something you were uncomfortable with.”

“It was fine... Ivar was more than courteous. But I don’t think I love him. Maybe before all this, I could have, but now... He won’t open his eyes. He sees what he wants to see,” she said.

“Power can do that to men. They're blind to their surroundings. But I don’t want you thinking for that any of this is your fault or that you should have done more. You’ve done what you can. We all have. There’s nothing left to do but wait. Wait for life... Or death. It’s all the same.

“Please, I need you to at least pretend to be hopeful. I’m on the verge of a breakdown. You can’t go down with me.”

As the pair sat propped against each other, sighing and fretting in silence, the door swung open quietly, and a pair of bespectacled eyes peered into the apartment.

The thrum of Vee’s heartbeat lulled Zed’s weariness, and she placed her hand on the scientist’s chest. Locked in their embrace, Vee kissed the top of her head and rubbed her shoulder.

“If there’s one thing that’s brightened my horizons these last couple of months, it’s you, Lea. I’m glad Axel brought you here. It might have been the one moral decision he’s ever made,” Vee told her.

She lifted her head and nuzzled into his shoulder, smelling the remnants of cleaning solution clinging to the fabric of his shirt. “You’re so sweet, Valter. Even though I feel positively useless—”

“You are positively useless!” A voice cried out.

They snapped glances at the door, startled, and saw Lora standing there with her fists tight at her sides, shoulders hunched to her ears.

“Are you cheating on me with this brainless twit?” Lora continued.

Vee unhanded Zed and stood up, a stony expression wiping the calmness from his face. “What the hell are you doing in here, Lora?”

“I came to tell you I finished organizing all your files, but it looks like you’re too busy with the village bicycle to care!”

“First thing’s first, Lora, you and I are not together. And even if we were, Zed’s my friend, and I don’t appreciate you insulting her! This is my goddamn apartment. You can’t walk in here whenever you please!”

“Why? Because I’ll catch you sleeping with her?”

A fiery ball burst in Zed’s gut, igniting the anger that had been accumulating little by little until it shot up her throat. “What the hell is your problem, Lora? Ever since I got here, you’ve done nothing but spurn me! What did I ever do to you?”

“Are you stupid? Everyone here knows you’ve been sleeping with any man you can get your hands on. You’ve earned nothing, yet everyone treats you like you’re some kind of deity. You promised to help in the lab, but all you did was cause a rift and chase away the only person bringing in supplies. Now we’re screwed, and it’s all your fault!”

“Lora, stop!” Vee demanded.

“No! Someone has to say it! I’m tired of everyone giving her credit when I’ve done the grunt work and get zero thanks. You’re probably not even a real scientist!”

“Enough!”

Lora turned to Vee, malice puckering her lips. “I knew it’d only be a matter of time before she infected you, too. All you men are the same. An easy lay comes by, and you forget everything.”

“You’ve got a lot of shit to say for a lab assistant,” Zed hit back.

The ball of heat in her stomach threw off flares, awakening a fit of familiar anger that stiffened her muscles and set her jaw. When she stepped forward, Lora took a step back, and a heady rush of adrenaline caused her heart to pound and lips to curl into a sly smile. It was the same aggression she’d felt when the poachers attacked her in the desert, and while killing off Zeronauts after they’d forced her to strip at gunpoint. The sensation lent her fervency. She didn’t understand why the hostility fuelled her, but she embraced the burn, let it guide her actions.

“I’ve killed men three times your size. I suggest—if you like your bones intact—you shut your mouth and go back to doing what you do best: staying quiet and minding your own fucking business.”

Both Vee and Lora drew back from the heat of Zed’s threat. Scowling, Lora backed into the hallway, then turned and started away. When her footsteps faded down the hall, Vee went to Zed and placed his hand on her shoulder. She jumped from the sudden contact, then relaxed.

“Jesus, Zed,” he scoffed. “I know she deserved it but that was harsh.”

She stared up at him, eyes wide with remorse. “I’m not sure where that came from. I’m so tired of the accusations. Everyone thinks they know me, but they don’t!”

“It’s okay,” Vee said. “I know you. And you know you. Who cares what anyone else says? Lora’s been jealous of you since the second you walked through the lab doors. She sees every other female as a threat. Her ego is fragile.”

“Seems everyone's ego is paper-thin,” Zed muttered.

“Don’t worry about her, Zed. It’s done.”

Zed looked out into the empty hallway. Something told her the tension was only just taking form. There was a change in the air, a bitterness that permeated the domes, and she shivered, wondering what new troubles might fashion themselves in the coming days.

~*~

“Son... You alive, sonny?”

A man looked down at four sunburnt limbs—two of which crudely bandaged—jutting out from beneath a half-open duffle bag. Expecting to find a corpse under the heavy canvas, he kicked it aside and found the person alive, although for how long that life had left was a cause for concern. Though the person remained unresponsive, his blacked-out eyes roamed the sky, wide as sand dollars.

His camel sputtered as if to debate their investigative stop. He turned toward the animal, shrugged, then looked back at the gangly form upon which they stumbled.

The man aired out the flaps of his stained coat, making himself presentable as best he could.

“Can you hear me, son?”

Green-rimmed pupils dithered as a faint noise squeaked from his throat. The man in the long, thin coat retrieved a skin of water from the pack on his camel, then squatted next to the barely conscious person and poured a small measure of water between his dry, cracked lips. He swallowed, and the man in the coat smiled.

“Atta boy.”

He spied the teardrop scar on the man’s forearm, squinting at the mark to analyze its edges. It was a fake. Not unusual in these parts, but interesting to come across.

“Up for some more water?”

Another small sound drew his ear closer—something between a whimper and a syllable.  

“Ma... Ma.”

“Ma? Speak up, son.”

“Muh.”

The man in the sand-stained coat tapped his chin. “Not to worry, sonny. The good doctor is in! Say, how about we take a look at that hand there? See what we’re working with?”

“M-ma.”

“Plenty of time to look for your mama after we patch you up.”

The camel snorted and received a mildly threatening look from its owner.

“Enough out of you, Rudie. I’m the one with the oats, and I say we give this fellow a hand. You have nowhere to be anyhow, so cool it, you oversized donkey. Now, let’s get you up. Ol’ Rudie here will be your chariot, good sir. Assuming you don’t intend to use that rather vicious-looking gun on us when you come-to. But, judging by your state, I don’t think you’ll be doing much of anything for a while. You’re lucky we found you, son. Mighty lucky.”

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[marshmallowprotection]

Inspired by the character Margarita Blankenheim from Evillious Chronicles (Link to Margarita’s Evillious Chronicles wiki page: https://theevilliouschronicles.fandom.com/wiki/Margarita_Blankenheim ) and the song “Gift From the Princess Who Brought Sleep” (Link to the fanmade PV & cover by Mariogagabriel: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mo8IHawkHpI ), all by Mothy.

Trigger warnings for self-harm mentions, suicide mentions, and a bat shit crazy psychopathic girl who is the topic of this character description. 

Well, I’ve made way more disgusting & hateable characters for my world...I mean, I made a character whose disgusting fetish list is long and as said, disgusting and disturbing. Ah, the smell of my world and its blurry border between NSFW and SFW…

(I think the only reason it's not NSFW is cus there are no explicit scenes of you know what ._.)

“If you truly love me, you wouldn’t have hurt me back then. I’m just returning the favor, you know! Every Black Rose has thorns...but mine are simply sharper, Mama, Papa. Now, 

TO HELL WITH YOU SCUM!”

-Laila, 1691 T.C. At Age 15

Name: Laila Kerrin Rouziame (Pronounced Lie-la Care-in Ro-zee-ah-meh in case anyone has trouble pronouncing it)

Name Meaning: Laila is an Arabic name meaning “Night Beauty”. Kerrin is an Irish name meaning “Black”. I derived her last name from “Rouzia”, an English name which is a variation of the name “Rose”. All together her name literally means “Night Beauty Black Rose”. 

Aliases (If Any): Black Rose (Code Name/Serial Killer Name)

Age: 19 (On Death)

Date of Birth/Birthday: Day 14 of Xomura’s Star, 1676 T.C. (Equivalent of February 14th)

Zodiac: Aquarius

Status: Deceased (Died 1695 T.C.)

Species: Elf

Magic: Unknown (Used A Variety of Different Spells, The Magic She Inherited/Specialized In Is Unknown)

Height: 5’4 Feet (162 Centimeters)

Ethnicity: Vesperian

Relatives: Duke Rouziame (Father)✝

Duchess Rouziame (Mother)✝

Rowen von Hallow (Husband)✝

Veila Miranda Rouziame (Daughter)✝

Various Descendants

Birth Place: Merdanburg, Rouziame Territory, Vesper Empire

Nationality/Current Residence: Merdanburg, Rouziame Territory, Vesper Empire

Religion (Which Goddess Do They Worship?): Kaya (Claims)

None

Occupation: Duchess of House Rouziame

The Infamous Serial Killer “Black Rose”

Founder of The Criminal Organization “Midnight Rosaria”

Affiliations: Midnight Rosaria

House Rouziame

Vesper Empire

  Personality: Self-Destructive, Just Plain Old Crazy, Psychopathic, Masochistic, Sadistic, Comes Off As “Sweet” And “Kind”, But Eerily “Sweet” and “Kind”, Like You Can Just Feel Something Is Off, But She’s A Master Manipulator, So You Wouldn’t Realize Till She Stabs You Senseless

Marital Status: Married (Formerly)

Widow [By Choice]

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Likes: Roses, Pain (No Seriously, I Put Her As Masochist In Her Personality Thing For A Reason), Flowers

Dislikes: People Pitying Her, People Treating Her As if She Were A Sweet Innocent Thing To Be Protected From The Cruel World, The Abuse Her Parents Did To Her, The Scent of Smoke, Smoke In General

Role: Background Character

Potential Post-Ever Changing Fate 1 Side Story Main Character (Undecided Though)

  Debut: Undecided

Random Facts:

Laila is a genuine actual psychopath. She’s not meant to be a character you can justify at all or chalk up her trauma to be the source of her evil or that she could have been good in an alternate timeline if she did not go through her trauma. She was, really, seriously, born with a lack of empathy for people and violent tendencies. However, her parents’ abuse towards her is what pushed her over the edge. But she would likely have still gone down the route she goes down in her canon, becoming a murderer, as she is likely a character who displays the worst symptoms and tendencies of someone who is a psychopath. 

Also before anyone claims she’s a sociopath- she is not, because she was like this from birth. Sociopaths are made- psychopaths are born. Big difference.

She was not born a masochist, however, she slowly morphed into one as the years went on and she searched for relief from the pain her parents caused her, and in a sick way the pain she caused to herself seemed to feel euphoric, and she’s not sure why. It may be due to her suicidal tendencies and contemplation of suicide, or maybe something else.

Laila is not meant to be an accurate representation of most mentally ill people- she’s one of the most extreme cases. And she’s also an actual psychopath, who are unable to be helped at all because their lack of empathy is not like depression or something where they can recover- it’s something physically wrong with her brain; for lack of a better word, she’s broken. And there’s nothing anyone could do to help her. Unfortunately, before anyone realized she was a severe, genuine danger to everyone around her and herself, she had already killed many people and eventually herself.

Laila also has severe depression (which is the main cause of her suicidal tendencies later on and masochistic tendencies) and severe PTSD towards the scent of smoke due to her father’s smoking habits. That’s also why she didn’t just burn all of Merdanburg like many people in Midnight Rosaria wanted her to- her fear of the smoke scent and just smoke, in general, made her unable.

Her exact kill count is 400. 399 if you disinclude herself.

Her masochistic tendencies are not sexual in nature before anyone asks.

Backstory: Laila Kerrin Rouziame was born the only child of Duke and Duchess Rouziame in the capital of Rouziame Territory (A Territory In My World Is A Province, Sort Of), Merdanburg on Day 14 of Xomura’s Star, 1676 T.C. Since birth, Laila had been harshly disciplined by her parents and taught what she should and should not do, in order to morph her into the perfect heiress, it didn’t help that the Vesper Empire was collapsing at the seams and that House Vesper, the ruling house of the empire, had disintegrated due to its main branch ending up at a dead-end when the last empress, Elisabet, died without an heir back in 1566 (110 years ago), and the nobility were all scrambling to become the new ruling house, and as one of the most powerful noble houses, Laila’s parents wanted to be the ones to become the new emperor and empress. And so, Laila was trained in how to be the best leader she could be, and harsh punishment in the form of physical and verbal abuse was executed to her if she did not comply, which she did a lot. Laila had...many violent tendencies, she often for example stabbed her stuffed animals with pencils or pens, or tearing them apart by hand, and sometimes even harming herself. All of this caused her only to be punished more, and many people started to refer to her as a demon child due to her tendencies of violence, and she even once attempted to stab the third son of the current Marquis Mariah at the time. Her lack of conscience and sense of right and wrong made everyone fear that maybe Laila was “possessed” or “cursed”. As Laila grew her tendencies only heightened, but, she learned an important skill from her older cousin, Lettisa (she was also a fellow psychopath), when she was 10- deception.

Laila learned how to pretend to be normal.

And so the random bursts of violence stopped. She put on a mask of perfectness- making herself out to be kind and benevolent when in reality she felt nothing but sick happiness at the thought of the pain she could cause. In private she harmed herself yet again but did so in places where she could easily hide the scars and wounds. 

When Laila was 13 the abuse from her parents continued to worsen, and her cousin Lettisa started talking to her about the idea of killing them, confessing that she herself killed her parents because they abused her too. Laila for the next 2 years would seriously consider it because she was tired of the abuse, in her words "They don't accept me for who I am, wanting me to pretend to be someone I am not. If they were gone...maybe...I could be free."

Laila would go through with her meticulously planned for two whole years murder plot against her parents when she was 15, murdering them in an excruciating, painful way which shall not be said because it's way too gory and disturbing.

After that Laila inherited everything from her parents, the estate, the title, the money, everything. Her cousin, Lettisa, chose to move out of her aunt's house to come live with Laila. And there began their creation of an organization, a criminal one, which they planned to name: "Midnight Rosaria".

Laila would be the face of the organization, and Lettisa handled many nitty-gritty details.

Laila's mental health continued to decline in terms of her sanity, and she began desiring to feel the euphoria which bringing pain to others had always brought her. And so, she became a serial killer, not targeting anyone in particular besides people who were friends of her parents, who were rewarded for their bystanding status of just watching Laila get abused by her parents with a painful death.

With the creation of Midnight Rosaria, killings across all of Merdanburg heightened along with the crime rate, Lettisa going around and recruiting people to the organization. Everyone was there for different reasons and different goals, but they all benefited from one thing: the fact that they would help each other. Everyone in the organization usually behind only one member's murder plot or crime. It was very meticulously planned, everything was perfected to the highest degree of perfection. And let me tell you, Laila was not dumb- in fact, she was a genius of her time, likely one of the most brilliant criminals ever. She was just... absolutely insane. 

Before Laila even turned 18, she was approached by a suitor named Rowen von Hallow, who claimed to have fallen in love with her and wanted to marry her. She originally rejected him, but Lettisa said that marrying him would greatly increase her power due to him being descended from Alia Hallow, who was a famous hero. So, Laila agreed to marry him. She gave birth to a daughter a year later.

For the next 4 years of her life (counting from when she was 15), Laila murdered over 300 people, using various magic spells and masking her true nature to enact her plots. With all of Midnight Rosaria helping her, at that point, there was nothing anyone could do to stop her, not when she had so much power and influence as Duchess Rouziame and the leader of Midnight Rosaria.

Merdanburg became a ghost town.

Laila's mental health had become extremely unstable. She even murdered her husband during a violent fit and didn't even care afterward.

And so Laila believed the last thing to do was to kill herself.

Everyone urged her not to, including Lettisa, but Laila stated that it was for the best, considering that was what she had wanted her entire life- the ultimate pain- the sweet release of death.

And so she did.

Laila has gone down in history as one of the most brilliant minds to have ever lived, as she did excel in school, but used her brilliance for the wrong reasons. She became known as the "Black Rose" due to her leaving a black rose wherever she made the worst wound on her victims. She's become infamous in history and due to being the creator of Midnight Rosaria along with Lettisa, she influenced the future of crime for centuries.

Lettisa ended up being the new guardian of Laila's daughter Veila, and unfortunately, Veila inherited her mother's psychopathy, becoming an infamous murderer as well. 

This is my first time writing a character who was born just purely crazy, did I mess up anything? Idk myself if I did a good job or what. ;-;

She's likely going to be improved in the future as I find out more about psychopathy, but this is her for now. :/ 

— Submision

Well, I do think it’s important not to call people “crazy”. Doing things of that nature can harm anyone with mental illness. Mental illness are not excuses for your actions. There’s definitely people in this world that are cruel but they are simply cruel for their own reasons, they weren’t being forced into doing anything, they choose to do what they do. Framing certain illness in a bad light makes for a bad stigma for people who experience pyschosis, hallucinations, and more. It isn’t “scary” to be “different.” 

But, it is a shame that people hurt others for things out of their control, like what they struggle with mentally or physically. Genetics can put you at risk for certain things, like anxiety, but that doesn’t mean that would make you your parent, or what they struggled with. Now, you could be disillusioned with reality and she could possibly have been taught things as a child that helped shape her view of others, and that’s how the daughter lashes out at others, but I wouldn’t say that she “got it from her mother” as in, mental illness. 

It’s just important to be careful about how you write characters like that because there is so much bad media out there that does more harm then good. Even if she’s one of the extreme cases that is an outlier, it’s important to be wary of what it can do to other people. 

I do find the concept rather interesting, though. It has potential if you continue to work on it and remedy things that may hurt others. 

[beyondflashpoint]

Prologue 1: Bedtime stories.

John massaged his temple. He’d been pouring through ancient tomes and cross referencing half forgotten folklore for what felt like hours. He sat back in his overstuffed chair, considered lighting a cigarette, then recalled the one unlit, currently pressed between his lips. How long had it been there? He needed a break.

“Da- ... John?” The little voice inquired from the doorway. John slowly raised his eyes.

The child had been in his care for over a year now. Looking at her now, wearing an adults band tee like a nightgown and dragging the large stuffed bat she carried everywhere, it was hard to remember how dangerous she could be.

“Well, what have we here? Little Bird escaped her cage?”

She smiled at the affectionate nickname, but there was still fear in her eyes.

John Constantine had never once thought of himself as anything close to fatherly. After all, his own dear old dad had been nothing short of a five-star bastard. But she wanted to call him dad, wanted him to be a father to her. Seeing her, putting on a brave face, but desperately craving comfort and company, it reminded him why he had taken the girl from a dying world, a dying mother, and her own five-star bastard. He moved in a way that only a concerned father can move, a delicate balance between caution so as not to startle, and haste to provide that comfort she was practically begging for. In moments he had scooped her up, cradled like a princess in his arms.

“Bad dreams again Rachael?” He asked tenderly. She nodded.

“Can’t get back to sleep then either, I take it?” She shook her head.

He pointed at he stuffed bat, now held in a chokehold by her scrawny little arms.

“Now you listen here Batsy, I told you more than once that you’re supposed to keep our girl safe.” A stern voice, usually reserved for pit fiends and people fooling with things they didn’t understand. John Constantine was upbraiding a stuffed toy. If that ever got out it’d be the end of his reputation. But bullocks to that.

“His name is Bartok. And he’s just a stuffed animal.” But she was giggling, genuine and true.

John exited the study carrying the girl back to bed. Neither noticed that the doorway which had previously opened into the foyer now deposited them on the second floor landing, a few doors down from Rachael’s bedroom. This was the House of Mystery, and it changed to suit its owner’s needs. Thankfully it knew John well enough to know that carrying a six year old child up a flight of stairs was a little excessive.

“That’s not entirely true, now is it luv? We studied totems and objects of power just last week. You’ve given him a name, and you carry him with you everywhere. Bartok is probably absolutely pulsing with magical energy. With the right focus and a solid incantation Barty could be a regular supercharged dream catcher.”

He was laying her down now, pulling the covers over her, but making sure to leave the bat’s stitch��s smile free. Rachael listened intently and nodded.

“Zatanna will be here all day tomorrow. I’m sure if you ask really nicely she’ll help you.”

“Is she doing a magic show right now?”

John smiled and nodded.

“Some of us have day jobs. You’ll want to follow her lead on that. Don’t be a deadbeat like ol’ Johnny boy.” He ended with a silly face, and was rewarded with another giggle.

“We’ll have to tell Zee to get you some proper sleepwear. I’m not sure how I feel about a six year old trundling about in a Mucous Membrane tee that’s older than Christ.”

“I like it. Zatanna says it’s the band you were in when you were a teenager. Uncle Boston let me listen to some of your songs, but he made me promise not to tell. He said there were bad words.”

“Did he now? I’ll have to have a talk with ‘Uncle Boston’ later. Punk is for your rebellious teenage years.” He smiled to show he was joking, but mentally cursed Boston Brand for starting her off with his old rubbish. “All tucked in. Close your eyes now Little Bird. Try and sleep.”

He started to stand, but the girl’s eyes doubled in size, wordlessly begging him not to go. He settled his weight once more.

“How’s about a story then?”

She immediately brightened.

“Will you tell me a Hellblazer story?”

John laughed.

“Those stories are a bit too dark for you Little Bird. When your older. Promise. I was thinking something a bit more age appropriate. With dragons.”

Her face dropped.

“A fairy tale?”

“Not exactly, luv. By all accounts this is a true story.”

She quirked an eyebrow suspiciously.

“It does begin a long time ago, in a land far away. About a thousand years ago. In a land called Nol. It was a different dimension. Nol was a peaceful kingdom, in the heights power. Arts, sciences, magic. A true utopia by all accounts. Streets of gold and all that. Actually,” he smirked, leaning onto his side, and gesturing with one hand while chanting under his breath. Sparks of gold light shot from his fingers, and after a few quick twirls, he flicked them towards the ceiling with a flourish. “Better to show than tell, innit?”

The sparks of gold fluttered and danced, multiplied, and arranged themselves into an image. Rachael gasped and watched in wide-eyed wonder that briefly made John understand Zatanna’s Copperfeild routine. Hovering above them, at an angle suited for a child to fall asleep to, the streets of Nol took shape, exactly as John pictured them when he read about them.

Polished marble walls rose ever skyward the tallest among them of height with a modern skyscraper. The streets, onyx, not gold, sloped downward in a gentle incline towards the port, and the sea beyond. All manner of strange vessels were docked there, traders and travelers from strange unknown lands. The great gates of the walled city were many, made of bronze, and flanked by the figures of many fantastic beasts. Here a griffin, there a sphinx, manticores, and many others beyond listing. The houses were of chalcedony or marble, with each their own walled gardens. No workers tools had ever touched these stones, and in fact it looked more like the stone had grown into the shapes they now held.

Of that same seemingly grown stone was the palace, directly in the city’s center. The highest of its towers dwarfed the Great Wall of Nol. And there were many towers. The palace was an opulent thing of soaring towers and impossible domed buildings, of high bridges between towers that seemed impossibly fragile from below.

The child consumed every detail with awestruck wonder.

“The people of Nol enjoyed a thousand years of peace, power, and prosperity. Now, the thing about good times is that they make people soft. See, the soldiers of Nol, save a few brave fools, had grown fat and confident. Sure there were a handful of knights and soldiers who traveled the countryside solving problems and seeking honor and all that rubbish, but mostly the good people of Nol believed nothing bad would ever happen to them.”

“And that’s exactly when something bad happened to them, right John?”

“That’s right. That’s the first lesson in this story, Little Bird. Prepare for the worst, and always expect it to get worse.” She nodded.

“And so, it was a great shock, then, when the dragon came.” The image of the city was replaced with the silhouette of a dragon, a massive thing with glowing eyes. The earth seemed to tremble at its wingbeats and Rachael gasped at the sight of it. “The Primordial Serpent, The Conqueror Wyrm, Malkior. From the east the dragon came, in the late hours after the sun had set. The beating of his mighty wings stirred the whole city to waking, and the soldiers, who were used to only marching about and yelling at rowdy kids prepared for a fight. The first fight for most of em.”

Even as he spoke, images of soldiers rushing too and fro in panicked chaos replaced that of the dragon.

“Now, the great dragon made quick work of the city’s walls, with his great claws and his mighty tail, and even quicker work of the inexperienced troopers practically throwing themselves at him. Even those brave knights who had returned to the city failed to even scratch the dragon’s mighty scales. All seemed lost for Nol, as the beast made his way towards the heart of the great city, intent on the palace and full of sinister purpose.”

Though Constantine had made sure the images were age appropriate, Rachael had pulled the covers up to her nose and was squeezing Bartok tightly.

“But, and this is the most important lesson from this story, it is always better to be clever than it is to be brave, or strong. And very luckily for Nol, there just so happened to be a very clever mage named Rorek. See Rorek had spent his whole life studying magic specially to kill Malkior. Rorek happened to be in the palace, studying magic with the king’s high mage, and when he heard the beating of those sinister wings he knew exactly what to do. Armed with naught but his personal spell book and his wits, Rorek claimed the tallest tower in the palace of Nol to face his hated foe.” The words flowing forth from John were just as magical as the scenes mirroring them to the little girl, and she fought against drooping eyelids to not miss the epic battle she knew was fast approaching.

“ The dragon reached the palace just as Rorek emerged on the tower’s roof.

‘Hark dem-“

“Do the voices.” The girl demanded in a voice laden with sleep. John could think of no reason to refuse.

“ ‘Hark demon! I am Rorek! For too long you have burned and killed and destroyed unchecked and unopposed. I oppose thee now!’” The voice he used now was softer, and a bit more proper. One might allege that he based it off one Jason Blood, though Constantine would never confirm this if pressed on it.

“ ‘Little man,’ said the dragon,” in a voice not dissimilar to Jason’s better half, “ ‘ I am the destroyer, the defiler, the conqueror. I am Malkior! I have seen worlds rise and fall, only to rise again. I have slain kings and emperors, heroes and champions. Who are you to think to stand against me?’ And Rorek stood tall and began his spells. The battle was fearsome, for Malkior too was versed in powerful and ancient magics. It seemed for every spell, hex or curse Rorek threw at Malkior, the dragon knew it’s counter. But Rorek was clever, and even while casting an unending torrent of spells, he prepared his last trick.

‘Foul beast, demon that you are, thy name does not suit thee, but nonetheless, Malkior, I call thee by thy true name, and by thy name bind thee!’

And the dragon roared with fury, lashing, thrashing and cursing even as he was pulled into Rorek’s book and bound. But with a final curse, disaster struck, and the tower which had been the scene of their epic battle was reduced to rubble, and Rorek was lost. But Nol remembered its hero, and until it’s final days celebrated the triumph of Rorek of Nol.”

As the final scene came to a close, the image faded, and the swirling cloud of golden dust dissipated and dissolved.

“So you see-“ John cut off as he turned to look at the girl and found her snoring softly.

He smiled, whispering an enchantment to ward against bad dreams, and brushing her hair back, kissed her forehead to seal the spell in place.

The barrage of vision and memory came with shocking clarity and coherence. Had he not been seated, John would have been knocked off his feet. The things he saw would haunt him for years to come.

It took time to compose himself well enough to stand, much less return to the study, where, hours later Zatanna found him, cigarette in one hand, scotch in the other.

It had been some time since Zee had seen John this upset. It was only after a second and third drink that he smoothed his unruly blond hair back, took a deep breath and spoke.

“We need to talk about Rachael. And her dreams.”

[blkgirlcafe]

Home Pt. 6

Viktor Drago x Cyra (Black OFC)

Cyra (Ky-Ra) -Sun or throne

Kazimir (Kah-Zee-Meer) - Bringer or Announcer of peace

Viktor Drago is married to the love of his life, they have a 5 year old son. He is willing to do anything to keep them safe.

Warning: Kidnapping, abuse, mentions of child abuse

Flashback 5

After that encounter they didn't speak for weeks, they caught each other looking at each other, but for the most part they didn't say anything. One night she came in late, just as he was about to leave, he decided to stay and do a few more around. She went from cardio to free weights and finally her sit ups. As she was doing sit ups, a guy approached her, towering over her. 

Viktor couldn't hear what he was saying but could see the panic on her face. The guy reached out to touch her hair, and Cyra tried to smack it away. Viktor abandoned the sparring bag, approaching her. 

“Dostatnʹo.” Viktor spoke (Enough)

“tse vasha poviya Drago?” the guy laughed. (This your whore Drago?)

“Zalysh yiyi, i ya poshkoduyu tebe.” (Leave her alone and I will spare you.)

Viktor knew his reputation, he had a reputation for being an animal. All he knew was violence and no one wanted to mess with that. He had very little regard for life, his own or others, and people were afraid of that. The guy walked away grumbling, leaving Cyra alone. 

“Thanks.” He helped her get up. Cyra dusted her hands on her pants, “Sorry for snapping on your a few weeks ago, I am just, I don't know.'' She gathered her stuff and started to walk out. 

“Wait!” he didn't mean to yell, “I will walk you home.”

She smiled at him, “You don't have to.”

“I want to, let me get my stuff.” Viktor scrambled to grab his gym bag, stuffing his sweaty clothes in it. He opened the door for her, taking her bag as she walked past. 

“Thanks.”

“No problem. I really am sorry I disappeared for two weeks, I didn't want Ivan to make me.”

“It's so weird to me you call him Ivan and not dad.” she shrugged. 

Viktor shrugged in response, it never occurred to him. 

“I miss home, I miss my brothers.” She said suddenly. The whole walk home, she talked about her home, about her family. Viktor listened intently, he had only left Europe once and that was to fight Creed. 

When they got to her apartment building he didn't want to leave her. 

“Wanna come up, we got leftovers?”

He looked both ways, afraid this was a trick, that Ivan would show up out of nowhere. He followed her up the stairs, the building was a tad bit better than where he lived. He couldn't deny the apartment was warmer in feeling this and Ivans.  Viktor left his bag by the door and sat on the small couch, 

“I will be right back.” She disappeared into one of the bedrooms, coming back a moment later in shorts and a t- shirt. Viktor tried his best not to stare at her but it wasn't working. 

“What are you looking at?” she asked him as she pulled food out of the fridge. 

“Nothing.” he mumbled. She fixed food, warming it up in the microwave. She walked over to him, pulling him off the couch. 

“You don't have to be shy around me.” she said softly. 

Viktor's eyes searched her face, before he bent down and kissed her. They both were surprised, she took a step back, her hand still on his. Viktor snatched his hand away, rushing to the door, grabbing his bag and leaving without saying goodbye. He passed Cyra’s roommate on the stairs as he rushed out.

“What the fuck was Drago doing here, are you okay?”

“Yeah. I was going to give him food but he kissed me and then ran away.”

“Word, bro is weird like leave him the fuck alone.”

“Stop he just, he just...trying.” 

“Yeah, trying to be weird. Anway, I'll eat his food.”

She grabbed the plate and sat down, Cyra looked out the window, he was already gone.

----

The fight was in a week, Viktor was stressed, he was barely eating, couldn't sleep. His trainer and manager were on his ass about the sudden change. Everyone wanted to know where Cyra was, why he had cheated. It pained him to lie, he would ever hurt her, or cheat on her. The sport gossip blogs picked it up, adding to his new persona of him being an boastful fighter. People came out the woodwork to, adding gas to the fire. His social media page had grew overnight, the comments ranged from accepts of his new identify to disbelief. 

Viktor has never acted like this, fame has gotten to his head.

Finally Big Nasty, you have earned it, show them how nasty you can get. 

The BDE is gold.

Cant belive he cheated on his wife, she fine as hell. 

Yo he gone wipe the floor with his oppoent. 

When he win there better be 50 bitches waiting for him in the back. 

His manager shook his head, looking through the post. They had companies wanting to sponsor them at the last moment, but Viktor said no. there was already enough attention on what was going on. He sipped the protein shake that was pushed in his head at some point. He had to make weight. 

Ivan walked into the office, wearing a smile, and Viktor just wanted to wipe it off his face. 

“Lets train.” he said to Vikor. 

“No.”

Viktor wasnt in the mood to train, wasnt in the mood to be around Ivan. The more days that passed without his wife home the worst he got. 

“I wasnt asking you.”

Viktor stood and towered over his  father, “You are a guest in my home, you are not my trainer and you are not my manager, act accordingly.”

If looks could kill they both would be dead, his manager came between them, pushing Viktor out the room. 

“Why the fuck is he even here, I dont understand Vik, you can talk to me.”

Viktor just shook his head and went to his bedroom. He laid on the bed, pulling her pillow close, her scent very faint on it. Viktor ended up falling asleep, dreaming of his family. 

Cyra was just out of his reach, he wanted to pull her close but each time he moved forward she moved back. Just behind her was Kazi, he was holding a toy, reaching out for him. 

“Tata I want to come home.”

“Me too baby.” Cyra said.

“Baby I am sorry, I never wanted this to happen.” 

They both faded away, Viktor looked around, trying to find her and Kazi. They had to be here, he could sense them, he could smell them. 

Viktor woke with a start, drenched in sweat. He sat up, looking for his phone, hoping he didnt miss a call. There were no new notifications at all. He went to the bathroom, then down to the kitchen to find food, normally Cyra and Kazi would be down here, the kitchen and attached family room were their domain, Kazi toys were stored in the corner, Cyra bookcase took up a full wall. 

The patio door was open and small snatches of conversation floated in, it was Ivan talking to someone. 

“Chy dobre vony?” (Are they well?)

Viktor took a step back, moving light on his feet.

“Tak, vin lamayetʹsya, vin zaznaye nevdachi.” (Yes he is breaking, he will fail.)

Viktor heart was beating fast, was Ivan behind this, would he do this? But Viktor already knew the answer to that.

----------

They let her and Kazi out once a day, they would spend hours outside. Sometimes one of the guys would play soccer with Kazi, sometimes it was just them. She never thought of screaming or trying to run away, not wanting to risk Kazi. They would simply kill her, they would make sure he suffered. 

Every few days she was able to speak to Viktor, she was allowed to call Trey, he stayed suspicious of everything. He wanted to see her, facetime her, touch her, anything. She kept the calls short, knowing her brother had the technology to find her. 

Kazi had stopped asking when Tata was coming to get them. She was told his fight was less than a week out, which means they would be fine if everything went according to plan. Viktor kept up his public appearance of being a badass, all the interviews he did he was prideful and boastful, which was unlike him. 

She just wanted to go home, get back to normal, whatever that would be after this. Kazi ran over to her, falling into her lap giggling. She was happy to see the smile on his face, he only smiled when he was out here. In the room he sat there, quiet, holding his toy. 

He stood up in front of her, putting his hands on her cheeks, giving her forehead a kiss. In that moment she broke down crying, because it was the same thing Viktor did to her. 

“Its okay mama.”

“I know baby. Mama sorry.” 

He didnt move, peppering her face in kisses until she started to giggle, she feel back, and they laid on the grass looking at the sky. 

She wondered what Vik was doing, if she knew her husband he was worrying. He didnt say much but boy could he worry. The backdoor opened and that was there cue to head back inside. She gave Kazi a kiss, picking him up.

Flashback # 6

Cyra avoided the gym for a few days but finally went back on Friday night. But there was no one there and that was rare. She approached the front desk, the girl behind her not even bothering to greet her.

“Where is everyone, this place is a ghost town?”

“Drago has a fight tonight, thought you would know that.” she rolled her eyes. 

Cyra was use to the attitude of most of the local people, she get it, she didnt belong. 

“Where?”

“No place for you.”

“I asked where, not your opinion.” Cyra gave the attitude back. 

The girl rolled her eyes again, popping her gum, before writing it down. 

“Starts at 9 Nehr.”

Cyra snatched the paper, knowing the slur that she was just called. 

She rushed home and convinced her roommate to go with her, they had a hour. Cyra changed into jeans and a tee, finding her bomber jacket to wear. They took a cab to the location. They got weird looks the whole time, or she got weird looks. They found a seat third row behind the opponent side. The fighters made there way to the ring and Viktor looked like nothing she remember. His normally shy and bashful expression was replaced with a look of hate and violence. 

The energy of the room was more than she could take, she wasnt use to this. People cheering for others to tear each other apart, people cheering for blood. The fight started, the first 3 rounds passing with hardly any damage. The 4th round his opponent got in a good hit, sending blood flying across the mat. Cyra stood, hands clenched in front of her. 

Her eyes met Vik and he was hit again, she realized that she was distracting him and sat back down. Viktor pushed off the ropes, standing up and getting back in stance. By the 7th round she could tell he was tired, his punches lacked the force from the earlier rounds. 

“End this and now!” Ivan shouted. 

Viktor straightened his back, delivering nasty punch after punch, even when his opponent leaned against him, Vik just pushed him off delivering a devastating uppercut that had his opponent on the ground. The ref counted and the bell rang, the fight over. Ivan bound into the ring, holding up his son arms in victory, you would have thought he made the final punch. 

The two exited the ring, Cyra pushed her way to the barrier that separated the crowd from the walkway. 

“Vik!” he turned to look at her, right eye already staring to close. He walked over, helping her and her roommate over the barrier so they could follow him. Ivan was to busy trying to find the sponsor for his payout to notice. 

Viktor led them to a small dressing room, her roommate waiting outside while she followed him in.

“You okay?” she asked stupidly. 

“I will be fine, what are you doing here?”

“Came to watch you fight, duh, also wondering why you ran after you kissed me.”

His head dropped,”I am sorry…”

Cyra didnt let him finish, standing on her tippy toes and kissing him back. His shoulder sagged almost in relief. 

Cyra bought her hands up to his cheeks, kissing him harder, wanting him to know it was okay, she wanted this too, whatever this was. 

“shcho tse?” (What is this?)

They both looked over, Ivan standing in the door, Anna standing behind Ivan. 

“I just came to congratulate him…”

“I am not talking to you girl. Lets go Viktor.”

“Dayte nam khvylynku, budʹ laska” Viktor spoke. (Give us a moment, please)

“No, lets go.” Ivan looked at her with disgust in his eyes. Viktor mumbled an apology before following Ivan out the door. 

“Damm what the hell was that?” Anna asked. 

“Nothing I guess.” 

That night all Viktor could think of was her. Usually when he won a fight, he floated high off of that for a few days, but even that didnt matter, she did. He snuck out knowing that Ivan was passed out drunk. 

He ended up at her apartment, knocking softly, Sarah answering the door. 

“Ugh you again, its like 3am, little late for a bootycall. Wait here.”

When Cyra saw him, she stopped. Viktor thought she looked gorgeous, in just a tshirt, curly hair everywhere. 

“Vik what are you doing here?”

“I came to apologize for Ivan, he doesn't have a reason to be mean to you.”

“You dont have to apologize for other people Vik.”

“I like you, I’ve never done this before, I dont know what to do.”

She smiled up at him, “You like me?”

“Yes a lot, you make me happy.”

She bounced over to him, hugging him around his middle, he winced from the pain, his ribs still sore. 

“Sorry, you make me happy to Vik. Come.”

She pulled him into her bedroom, the light was flicked off but he could still see the touches of her. The makeup on the vanity, clothes slung over the back of a chair, a picture on her bedside. 

“I swear to god yall better not fuck, these walls are thin as fuck, I can hear giantgtor breathing.”

“Don’t mind her, can you stay?”

Viktor shook his head quickly, not caring that he would have to face the consequences tomorrow. He pushed his sweats down, leaving him in boxers and tshirts and got into bed, she snuggled up to him, trying her best not to touch his bruises. 

“Its fine, I am use to pain.”

“You shouldn't be Vik.” She kissed the underside of his chin, settling into a comfortable silence. 

Viktor got no sleep that night, he stayed up all night watching her sleep, she never left his side. Her scent stayed with him even as Ivan chewed him out the next morning and made him change gyms.

-----------

24 hours before a match 

It was time for the weight in and conference, Viktor always hated these. They obsessively tracked his weight the days leading up, to heavy or light and there was no fight, he had to stay in his weight class. He dropped a lot of weight since all this started, how could he eat without know if his wife and child were. 

After he head the phone call between Ivan and who he assumed was Andriy, he knew that they would be okay, it was all a plan to get him to fold. Viktor would bet his life that both Ivan and Andriy had big money bet on this fight and they needed him to fold so they could get paid. 

All the extra shit was just so he would be embarrass. He thought of he quote that Ivan had always told him when he was growing up, “A fool tells you what he will do, a boaster will tell you what they have done, The wise man does it and says nothing.” He never saw the need to be prideful. It just wasnt his way. 

“You ready?” his manager ask him. 

“Yes.” usually Cyra was here with him, behind the scene, being his cheerleader. He didnt need the huge entourage, the flashy clothes of jewelry, just her. Kazi would be with one of her brothers, watching from home.He wasnt allowed to watch the fights, but the weight ins no problem. All Viktor had on were boxing shorts, he followed his manager to the stage. Dozens of specters watched, cameras out, mics pointed toward the stage. 

The announcer did the usual bout, introducing them. They weighed in, their weight checked before they took their respective seats, this was the part he hated, the interview. 

Drago where is your wife, does she plan to support you even thought you cheated?

She will not be in attendance. 

Why the sudden change, you did a complete 180 on us.

People change.

Needless to say fans are loving the new attitude, they think you earned the right to be boastful.

They are right, I haven't lost a fight in 5 years, I dont have anything else to prove. 

For the most part he kept his answers short, keeping up the facade like he was supposed to.

Finally they were done and Viktor along with his manager and trainer went back to his room, that same room he would prep in tomorrow for the fight. Win or lose he was going home with 2 million dollars. If he won he was looking at 10 million, tack on what he would make from sponsorship it would be a nice purse. 

“Viktor you look dead, I dont believe anything you said on that stage. Man what is going on?”

“Nothing.” he got dress and quickly. 

With Ivan not here he asked to use his trainer phone, he went into the bathroom. 

“Who dis?” Trey answered the phone. 

“I dont have much time, I know who has Cyra and I think my dad is on it. Come by the house tonight.”

“Aigh bruh, Imma be there, but my sis and Kazi better be okay or I will make good on my promise.”

He hung up, deleting the call log. When he came out the restroom still no sign of Ivan, he gave his trainer back his phone and left, wanting to go home.

----------

Both her and Kazi watched the weight in, Kazi was quiet as he watched his tata on stage talking. Cyra hated seeing him like this, he looked awful, not his normal self. His eyes were dark, the same darkness she saw when she met him in the Ukraine. 

He weighted in as normal, did the interview and rushed off of stage. She just wanted to reach out and comfort him. The day before a match she was always by his side, they needed each other in that way. They kept each other grounded.

After watching the weight in, she and Kazi had dinner. But Cyra wasnt hungry at all. They were given a bathroom run, allowed to take a shower, and her kazi sharing the shower to save time. Once back in their room they laid together while Kazi told her a story, like most children he had the most active imagination ever. 

She wanted to tell him that tomorrow they would go home, that everything would be okay. But she didnt, know sure she could handle the disappointment if something went wrong.

[notstars-doors]

snaibsel headcanons for Femslash Feb because i’m gay and i love them

Zatanna uses her magic to gratuitously flirt with Artemis constantly and it works every. single. time.

especially because Artemis is usually the one to be more ”chivalrous”, like opening doors and pulling out chairs and shit like that, but every single time Zatanna pulls a rose out from behind her ear she turns beet red and gets all mumbley

Zatanna gets endless entertainment from playing with Artemis’ hair. like it’s so thick and fluffy that she just makes Artemis sit on the floor so she can bury her hands in it while they watch a movie or something, not that Arty ever complains about it

sometimes Zee will shorten her hair (with magic) just for convenience or if she's feeling something different that day, and Artemis LOVES it whenever she does

she loves it especially when its not all perfectly styled, when it's still short the next morning and its a little rumpled and sticking up in places

and Zee’s just standing at the kitchen counter making a cup of tea, her leftover mascara all smudged under her eyes, a horrendous cowlick sticking up at the back of her head, and Artemis just comes up behind her for a hug because shes just The Cutest like that

Also, hugs from behind are just. their thing.

Artemis will come out from the bedroom half-asleep some mornings and just. flop against Zee’s back, and won’t move for a solid twenty minutes. just following her around the kitchen while she makes breakfast until she forces a cup of coffee in her hand and shoves her into the living room

Zatanna is a Tea Snob while Artemis will drink any cup of coffee you place in front of her

Zee totally buys into the modern witch aesthetic. like shes got two shelves in the cupboard dedicated to Just Tea and has like, every kind of tea strainer known to mankind

Artemis bought her the Mana-Tea, mostly as joke, but Zatanna has used it every morning for so long that it's starting to stain and peel

meanwhile Artemis warms up the same huge cup of coffee like four times every morning because she forgets about it

"babe im not gonna waste a good cup of coffee" 

"that stopped being a good cup of anything about two hours ago, love"

ALSO to go with her tea collection, her mug/tea cup collection is off the charts

she's made the china cabinet into a pocket dimension just to fit all of her of different tea sets in there

Zatanna has strung up fairy lights in almost every room in the house. It adds a lovely, magical glow that makes everything feel homey and soft, and it never looks out of place

Doing yoga together is one of their favourite couple activities

They did the couples yoga challenge and aced it

Zatanna does the Sabrina Spin in front of the mirror every morning to change her outfits, just because Artemis loves watching her do it

Nicknames for each other include: love, honey, sweet pea, doll, and every other variation of them

Artemis calls Zee ‘babe’ a lot, and Zee loves to call her ‘baby’

Lian loves her Auntie Artemis a lot, but by god does she adores Zatanna

When Lian gets into Harry Potter (because she totally would), Zatanna enchants a broom for her and it’s her favourite birthday gift for years. It doesn’t go any more than three feet off the ground, but Roy has to restrict Lian to two hours of “flying” a day because she’s so obsessed with it

Artemis is still salty about it, cuz she knows she’s not the favourite aunt anymore

Artemis teaches Zatanna how to use a bow and arrow on one of their first dates, doing the very typical “stand behind them and show them how to do it” thing

they were both blushy and breathless by the end of it

On another of their first dates, Zee takes Artemis to a ““magic show””, and they spend the entire time giggling at the magician’s face as Zee makes each trick actually work, with real magic. They don’t mess up the show, because that’s mean and this is the person’s livelihood, but by the end of it, the audience is on their feet in applause, and the magician looks very confused but happy all the same

Artemis is, surprisingly enough, the blanket hog

Actually she’s the everything hog

We’re talking duvet, pillows, stuffed animals - if it’s on the bed, it’s on Artemis’ side and almost definitely squashed underneath her stomach while she sleeps soundly on top of it all

Zatanna has to snuggle up right against her just to feel any kind of warmth, which she has no problems with (most of the time)

Usually Zatanna will wake up in the morning and start the day, with Artemis following her out half an hour later - but sometimes, on their laziest Sunday mornings, they’ll wake up tangled together, hitting the snooze button a dozen times just for those five more minutes just so they don’t have to let go. Artemis’ hair is in Zee’s face and Zee’s morning breath is so awful that Artemis has to remind herself to breath through her mouth, but they’re both so comfortable that they can’t bring themselves to move.

[caseybanning]

(major late game ambition: nemesis spoilers ahead)

Over the last several days, Casey had spent long, quiet hours (and bouts of sleeplessness) in the study with their research. Occasionally the sound of their footsteps on the floor would echo, implying they’re relieving boredom--or perhaps a difficult thought--by pacing. The silence was interrupted by their sudden appearance at mealtimes, or when they were too frustrated to continue for the evening, but this night was different. The clock was ticking well close to supper, and it was only then when they finally emerged.

Their feet shuffled against the floor as they walked out of the study and out into their main living area, hands stuffed awkwardly into the pockets of their trousers. Something was off; their gaze kept straying from the floor to the wall, but nowhere else.

Roland had been giving Casey the space to work; past the point of getting them in the right direction for finding game contacts, he wasn’t familiar enough to help with this work. He smiled and walked over to them. “Is it a dead end? Or did you find out who?” He asked.

“What? Oh.” Casey was startled at the sound of his voice. Slowly, they shook their head and drifted past him, staring at the armchair for a few seconds and trying to decide if they should sit. Their legs were trembling as if they were ready to run at any second.

“We can eliminate the Great Game as a possibility,” They muttered, smoothing back their hair away from their face. “Not that the theory really bore much weight to it, but whatever clues I could find made it seem worth it. It was just a waste of time.” The tone of their voice was flat, almost forced into sound calm.

“Was it the Masters?” Roland’s voice is quiet, he almost seems to be checking to see if the Bazaar reacted.

Casey was struck mute by the question, giving Roland an aghast expression. They gulp and start shaking their head harder. “I was so certain,” They said quietly. “I was so certain that it had to be Hell. It would’ve made too much sense. What James studied, our lives, the things that led us here. The gaoler’s honey!” They yelp. “You--it--it involves one of Hell’s roses. It made sense! I’ve seen him--” They’re voice is getting louder. “In the mirror, I saw him and he told me: Brass, in my soul. How could it be anybody except Hell?”

Their arms are crossed over their chest, almost holding themself. “But then everything stopped adding up and the other clues started falling more into place, more… it’s…” They stop again, staring hard at Roland. Their eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, as if trying to quietly plead with him to finish their sentence.

Roland takes their hand. “If it’s them, then we can do something about it. What do you want to do?”

They answered with a tearful laugh of disbelief, slowly removing their hand from Roland’s grasp. Casey appeared to struggle between saying something immediate and thinking it over, and the result was another small stretch of silence.

“We?” They asked, their shaking arms dropping down to their sides.

“You… when we first met--” They stop abruptly, almost as if they can’t believe what they’re about to say. After a deep breath, they continue. “We first met, years ago. You were an agent of the Bazaar, for them. The masters. Can they hear this conversation now?” They step back, trying to put some distance between the two of them. “This house, this place--we’ve been sitting in the nest of the ones responsible this whole time! Did you know?!” Casey shouts, and opens their mouth to speak again. Instead, they stood before him in shock, their face in disbelief at their own words.

Roland is quiet for a moment. There’s a heavy silence, and his expression is neutral. “If I knew, I’d be dead. They never would have let me get close enough to help you learn.” His voice is quiet, fragile. “I don’t know if this place is safe from being listened to. But I’ve written enough in here, even if I’ve burned it, to be sure they wouldn’t have let me out if they could hear or see us in here either.” He looks down at the floor, and closes his eyes. “You don’t have any reason to believe I wouldn’t know besides assumptions. I’d have every reason to be lying to you, but you know me well enough to decide that for yourself.” He looks back to them. “I didn’t know. I don’t what want to think about what would have happened if I did.”

Casey’s shoulder’s heave as they sob, looking back down at the floor as they try to figure it out. They waver, and then finally wander over to one of the chairs to sit. “Nothing makes sense anymore,” They finally replied. “I do know you, I do--everything is… with what they do and how they scheme, I didn’t have a way of knowing otherwise and after figuring out it was them, I kept overthinking it--” They’re babbling now, wiping their face with the back of their hand. “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, that wasn’t a good thing to accuse you of and I don’t even know where that came from; I’m just… really… tired. I’m scared they’re going to find out we know now.”

Roland walks over to the chair, sits on the arm, and hugs them. “I’m… I honestly would have been surprised if you never thought it.” he holds them close, rubbing their shoulder. “You don’t need to apologize. At all. We can go away for awhile; clear out everything you need to go from here and burn the rest. No evidence. Just long enough to get some sleep, and come back at this fresh.”

Casey falls against him and presses their face into his shoulder. “There’s some things I may need to keep if I plan to keep going with this,” They replied with a heavy sigh. “Creates more risk. God, the Masters.” Their hand reaches up to Roland’s shoulder where, underneath his clothes, they know that his scars are still prominent. Casey holds still, grimacing. “This feels more like a suicide mission than one of revenge or understanding.”

“You and I have done more incredible things than this and come out alive. What’s one more?” He kisses the top of their head, and strokes their hair. “We’ll take everything you need out to the zee-cottage. We’ll keep there for long enough to come up with an answer on what to do next” Roland listens for the sound of anything; bat-wings, feet outside the door, screaming, and is satisfied when he just hears his own breathing and Casey’s.

“What about your work?” Their head snaps up, alarmed. “Both of us--I can lay low for a time or get a head start if you need to tie things up here, but I don’t want you to put yourself in any trouble if we have to be out of town either. The animals, well--the aunts could help us too, we just need to send a letter. The letter could get intercepted..” They stand up, trying to restart their train of thought. “We’re quite outnumbered too, I mean it could’ve been any of them if not ALL…”

Roland hugs Casey again, pressing their head against his chest. “I’ll tell a contact I need to lay low. And the worst that will happen is they’ll give me cold tea the next time we talk. Disappearing and convincing cover stories are my work. We’ll be okay. I’m going to get the landau ready, and we’ll be gone in time for you to get some rest.”

Casey nods, sniffling and giving their face one last quick swipe. “You said I don’t need to apologize, but I’m still sorry. I love you.”

“Well…” He kisses them again. “You don’t need to, but I forgive you. I love you too.”

[soft-and-fluffy-corner]

got my Frankie plushie from Facing the Sun by @artbytesslyn LOOK HOW CUTEEEEE

[toaster-strudel1234]

Personal Ship #3

This is for @ dancing4girls.  Sorry, you had to wait love! Thanks for participating! I love theater as well, and obviously, Tom Holland is awesome beyond measure

I ship you with...

Tom Holland 

- You met in a small local bookstore, you both picked the same book off the shelf at the same time and moved quickly past the awkward blushing! You talked about the book you had picked and other books by the same author. You became fast friends!

- You had weekly coffee meetings and talked about whatever you were reading, you would also borrow each other's books all the time. 

- He asked you out by writing a  note on the back cover of a book you borrowed from him. It said “I love you more than the main character loves his girlfriend/boyfriend! Go out with me?” of course you said yes!

- He loved watching you reenact your favorite scenes from your favorite plays and he often memorized the other characters lines, and you often put on shows for Toms stuffed animals!

- Tom loved your height and called you his ‘little buttercup’, he loved grabbing your waist and holding you up so you could grab stuff from higher shelves. 

- Sitting on Toms' shoulders, whenever you went to watch fireworks. 

- When you moved in with him, he surprised you with purple bedding and cushions for your bed. (he also attempted to make a “Welcome” cake with purple icing, but that didn't go too well)

-He loves when you sass to your friends, sometimes he annoys you a little bit so that he could hear a sassy remark. He thinks it’s adorable

- You wore his t-shirts as dresses and he thought it was absolutely adorable, but he acted like it annoyed him. So one day he just bought you like 5 men's t-shirts so that you would stop stealing his.

- He loves how shy you get when you meet new people and to top it off he’ll keep calling you things like “my baby girl, the love of my life and gorgeous” so that he can see you blush.

- He proposed by taking you to see a play you always wanted to see and during the intermission he told you he was going to the bathroom, but in reality, he went up onto the stage, declared his love for you and asked you to marry him. (he also wrote you a book with all the reasons he loved you in it)

That's it! I hope you enjoyed!!! Remeber to send your criteria in for personal ships and ask me questions! I’m going to be answering today!

-Zee xoxo

[hahligirl56]

Tagged by @psalm-onethirtynine - thanks! :)

Rules: repost with the rules, answer the 11 questions, make your own 11 questions, then tag 11 people.

Anyway! Here are my 11 questions

1). What is your favorite childhood comfort item (or some if there are many)? - I have a plush Dalmatian toy I got on my 5th birthday (her name is Spot), as well as many other stuffed animals and toys that I would put on my bed to sleep beside me.

2). What is your favorite band at the moment?- I’m really enjoying songs from Priscilla Ahn, Zee Avi, and Owl City at the moment, as well as listening to classic rock on the radio and many different types of music on my personal player.

3). What is the happiest thing that has ever happened to you? - Getting a new puppy is always heartwarming because you’re expanding your family and your heart with a new member. Passing exams and progressing through life as planned also gives me bliss because it helps me realize I’m not a failure. 4). Who inspires you the most? - There is a woman I talk to on a regular basis that I feel real joy around; she has had such a very hard and rough early life, but she has been blessed by a kind husband and wonderful children (one of whom was one of my classmates growing up). She just radiates joy and loves people genuinely and I want to be more like her every time I spend time with her. 5). Look around you. Name the first thing your eyes landed on. - My black pug, chewing a bottle cap.  6). What is the stupidest movie you have ever seen (or just one you disliked/hated) - I cannot stand the live action Scooby Doo movies (I’m sorry, but they just nauseate me...)

7). Say there’s a pill that makes it a guarantee that you will never get sick in your life ever again (colds, flu, lime disease, ebola - stuff that can be passed), but you have to get a tattoo of a pill capsule right smack dab on the tip of your nose in order to get the pill. Would you take the pill? (it wouldn’t cost anything - the tattoo or the pill). - Ooh, that’s a hard one. But sometimes we need to be sick in order to realize we need to rest our bodies and minds. And I like the excuse to stay home once in a while and not do anything (even if I am in complete misery being sick).

8). You have been given the power to ban one specific song. No one can ever listen to it again, sing it, hum it, speak of it. What song would you ban? U-G-L-Y (catchy song, but strong bullying material)

9) You can make one song mandatory learning in all schools. Every student must listen to it. Which song do you pick? The Book of Morris Johnson - Zee Avi https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bh-OFiB6L9s

10). Glance around you. The first word you see is now your name. What is your new name? (kaity’s note: my new name is Breathe) - Diagnostic

11). Can you hear the people sing? Singing the song of angry men?- No, but I can hear my little creature beside me smacking her lips (she really enjoys that bottle cap...) I know, I know, Les Mes ;)

Here are my questions:

1) If you had the power to raise the dead, and could rise ONE person who is DECEASED to spend the day with them, who would you raise?

2) A magical genie is able to grant you 3 wishes - what would you wish for?

3) If you were forced to wear ONE color for the rest of your life, what would it be?

4) What is the ONE place in all of the world that you would want to visit, and what would you do there?

5) What animal would you want to be able to talk to you?

6) What fictional character is your best friend (the one you can talk to about anything), and what would you do together?

7) What is a musical instrument that you wish you could play/master?

8) You write a message in a bottle and let it float away - what does it say?

9) Sunrises or sunsets?

10) You write a best-selling novel or ground-breaking song - what is it about?

11) What is your favorite type of flower?

I tag: @doctah-ironholmesgrl08 @doyouhearthetardissing @sofialuzia @gods-little-punk @zany-the-nerd @tempest-loupnoir and anyone else who wants to give this a try :)

[super-hero-girls-netflix]

Headcanons on disorders and illnesses (like ADHD, Anorexia, Some kind of condition or something) for both boys and girls?

ALL THE KIDS ARE DEPRESSED

It's a song by Jeremy Zucker

Lol.

Lesse. Everyone this HEADCANNON post has a mental illness. For the sake of the headcannon.

HEADCANNON CHALLENGE ACCEPTED

HEADCANNON #1- Karen

Karen had anxiety and depression. It comes hand in hand. The anxiety is not prominent and really the depression is only like a dark corner of her brain that only invades when the anxiety is high but...she has anxiety and temperamental depression.

Her anxiety is everpresent of course. Especially when she has to meet new people. But with time she wrangles her anxiety down and loosens up. It's a constant battle of 'of course they like me they're my friends' and 'am I annoying them' 'are they sick of me' 'do I matter to them as much they do to me?'.

It's exhausting. But of course..she won't let anxiety win. And neither will her friends! They makes sure to remind Karen just how special they know she is.

And that's final.

HEADCANNON #2- Kara

Kara always knew she had a bit of an anger problem. A quick temper. A psychoanalysis man told her that it was because I'm order to protect herself from being hurt she had to dismiss them.

She begged to differ. She wouldn't be so angry if people weren't so stupid. But whatever. She also had depression? Big whoop. It's not like she actually think anyway, or so she insists to the Danvers.

But the Danvers are dutiful legal guardians and got her a therapist. Of course she was super cold and prone to ignoring the man at first but somehow...over time...she told him everything.

Most of everything.

Things that pissed her off.

In fact, this is how most meetings start:

Kara, skateboarding into the room, with a smoothie in hand: Bruh, you won't believe what happened to me last night.

So...instead of stewing in anger she just spills out every single thing that makes her want to commit murder.

HEADCANNON #3- Jess

Depression. Just depression. Depression everywhere.

It isn't obvious. She's so out together and calm and collected. None of the stereotypical signs.

But you can tell when she starts to sleep less and talk less. When her words slur and her movements are slightly erratic.

When she neglects herself.

The girls make sure that Jess knows that they're there when she needs them. Jess is good at faking happiness, but they're good at detecting bullshit.

HEADCANNON #4- Diana

She is mental illness free. At least the kind that is hardwired into her brain. The kind people are born with.

But depression isn't always genetic.

And PTSD definitely isn't.

Diana has been sheltered in a pretty morally correct place but she has lived alongside monsters of Greek mythology.

She is pretty confident about most but she cannot, I repeat, she cannot, stand bears. And it might seem silly but seeing bears or any rendition of it sends Diana into gory flashbacks.

For that specific reason Babs makes sure to hide all bear themed stuffed animals when Diana comes over.

HEADCANNON #5- Zee

Being in the spotlight all her life has made Zee rather accustomed to criticism. She was always a bit above it.

Petty commentary like 'so annoying' or 'does she think she's cute?' was beneath her concern.

But one always nagged at her.

'Look at her- so chubby!' 'Haha, hamster cheeks'.

That was when the meal skipping started, what was once neglecting breakfast and avoiding extra calories was soon lying about eating and even, on some rare occasions, going as far as throwing up what her father insisted she choked down.

Yes, a kid can be depressed at the ripe age of 8 years old.

Of course she's doing better now. Not skipping any meals. And not giving the comment section the time of day.

Still, she flinches when she hears whispers of 'chubby' or 'fat'.

HEADCANNON #6- Babs

ADHD, Babs has a lower amount of dopamine so that's why she's always looking for a new thrill. Something to invest in that will give her regular amount of dopamine.

Things that lower dopamine like studying or school is of course of no interest to her so she takes no interest in learning about it.

That's why she has trouble focusing on certain aspects of school.

The BORING aspects.

Of course being forced to focus on the BORING aspects lowers her dopamine and she goes to a lapse of what looks likes depression.

It's horrid.

She still hasn't figured bout a way to be entertained with boring stuff but... she's working on it.

The BOYS

HEADCANNON #1- Carter

Carter. He doesn't have depression. At least, not depression depression.

Lol, I know.

I like to believe, in my AU, that he is a selective mute. Which comes in and as a sever anxiety disorder. He only speaks to people he feels comfortable with, or he is used to. And only when it's something he feels comfortable about.

This is just a headcannon. I strongly believe that Carter, in a another AU, doesn't think the twerps worth his time, nevermind his voice.

HEADCANNON #2- Garth

He is one with Depression. In fact him and the rude voice in head engage in daily conversation.

Before he goes to his therapist.

Who likes spraying the surprisingly self-deprecating boy with her plant waterer spray.

No one knows.

No one asks.

How can the confident water boy prince have depression.

HEADCANNON #3- Hal

Good old fashioned depression.

That's it.

He's a depressed Fuck. Who's so obsessed with feeling fine again he can't see how he's hurting others.

But he's being forced to see a therapist (thanks Jess) and he's working on it.

HEADCANNON #4- Steve

ADHD, he's constantly not happy. Dopamine less. So he just keeps his facade of pleasantness on and tries to find ways to be happy.

He figured out quick he liked war stuff. Especially pilots.

Now sometimes it's all that gets him through it all.

Looks fine is most likely silently screaming.

HEADCANNON #5- Oliver

Has anxiety.

I know.

Wouldn't expect it, right?

He's so loud and charming and confident.

Yeah, well it's a layer of confidence. Bravado to shield him from the world.

Be warned that if a single insult hits him it will most likely hit hard- and result in him working even harder to perfect a role.

He does go to therapy though. But he isn't very good at being sincere about his feelings.

HEADCANNON #6- Barry

Bipolar disorder.

This poor boy suffers through the highs of mania and lows of depression.

However since he's always at a higher speed then others they can't tell when he's lagging or acting up.

Unless- unless they pay close attention.

No one really knows....

[spyrowiki]

Tagged by @leo-otakuna sorry it took so long :0

These are the rules: Rule 1: Always post the rules. Rule 2: Answer the questions that the person who tagged you asked you and write 11 new ones. Rule 3: Tag 11 people and link them to the post. Rule 4: Actually tell them you tagged them.

Favorite song? I’ve got so many and they fluctuate wildly but it’s probably Round Here by Counting Crows right now :)

Favorite animal? FOXES AND CORVIDS FOXES AND CORVIDS

If you could choose a country to visit, which would you choose? Either France, Iceland, Canada, or Norway :0

Favorite book series? Well, my favorite book is Child 44 and it’s technically a series though I haven’t read the other two, but altogether I’d probably say Harry Potter or Percy Jackson

Favorite TV Show/Anime? TAKE A GUESS. Fullmetal Alchemist, Parks and Rec, Hetalia, Survivor…

Favorite school subject? French, Linguistics or History

Favorite place to go?

to bed

How do you take your coffee? Cream only, but medium-light

Coca-Cola or Pepsi? Pepsi I guess idk

Hair color? Blonde

Do you sleep with a teddy bear? I have a stuffed shark named Cyrano

What song are you listening to/did you last listen to?

Stay With Me - Sam Smith

What’s your favorite snack?

Cheez-its :0000

A pet peeve?

When people talk just to hear themselves talk

Favorite 3 fandoms?

I’m not super active in any fandom besides FMA and Hetalia but I will say that the Hetalia fandom is not great.

What’s your muffin preference?

LEMME GET THAT BANANA NUT

What book can you read over and over again?

Child 44 (but im absolutely pissed about the movie)

Favorite pokemon?

Noivern or Sylveon

What’s your Aesthetic™?

Skies and Flowers

Recommend 5 anime/mangas

Fruits Basket, FMA of course, I liked Demon Diary when I read it in 8th grade, Same with Chibi Vampire, D. Gray-man

What is your favorite meme right now?

Oh man probably the spongebob chicken but as soon as I post this I’ll think of 5 more

Favorite ice cream flavor

Vanilla+Caramel or Butterfinger 

Tagging 

1. What’s the last video game you played? 2. Something you’ve been wanting to try but haven’t? 3. A weirdly strong childhood memory? 4. What was the first thing that you remember that consumed your life? 5. Do you believe in the paranormal? If so, what bits? 6. What do you dip your fries in? 7. Comfort movie? 8. Favorite flower? 9. What would you like your home to smell like? Do you watch food network? 11. Something that you like that most others don't?

@greedyboi @jellyfishtree @terracamilia @saladdad @sociallyawkwardfangirl7341 @zee @smolayna @girl-withaface @thepenguinfairy @prison-lsland @leviathanlies and anyone else that wants to :0

[squelchsquelch]

Tagged by @r0ryy!!

Rules: Say something that begins with each letter of the alphabet, then explain what that word means to you. Then, tag 26 people to do it.

A - apple juice - I was addicted to apple juice in high school lol

B - bananas - my favorite fruit! Even if I have a mild sensitivity towards them and my mouth gets very itchy

C - cucumbers - I REALLY LOVE CUCUMBERS!! [okay enough with the food stuff lol]

D - dicks!!! - you all know damn well why I’m always thinking about dicks

E - eggplant - my favorite emoji! [ok! for real!! last food thing, I swear]

F - Foster the People - I think their album Torches is a very mc/han/zo album, if I do say so myself

G - guillotine - we recently learned the difference between code switching and borrowing from other languages, and guillotine has miraculously retained its phonological features despite all of English’s short comings!

H - hungry - I’m always hungry: for food, new media, cute headcanons, the love from my friends, everything

I - Ignacio - I really love this name! I’d give this name to my child, but my husband would always call them Nacho [the diminutive form] and I am not down with that

J - jello beans - I never understood the deal with jelly beans, worst candy imo

K - kinder eggs - I WANT THAT MILKY EGGY TOY

L - large - my boobs have gotten quite big in the last few months, I’m not complaining, but my shirts are

M - minuscule - did you know this word has gone through orthographic changes based on people’s relation to ‘mini’? It’s historically minuscule, but since it means small, most people have an intuition that it should be miniscule to match the ‘mini’ mindset

N - nanomachines - son

O - orphaned works - I always wonder what drives authors to orphan their works! A mystery I will never solve

P - preferences - as in Video Preferences, which I am writing!! I can guarantee you that!!! 

Q - quiche - I don’t. Know what this is. Just that rich white people eat it apparently?? And while I’m at it, what the hell is a casserole?? Someone hit me up, I need answers

R - redo - UMMMM..... I think about redo-ing a lot of fics because I think they’re super shitty???? But that’s just the anxiety and poor self esteem talking [I hope Dx]

S - sauce - chocolate sauce, barbecue sauce, hollandaise; any and all sauces have a welcome residence on Hanz-- on food .__.

T - turtle - I had the cutest jingly turtle stuffed animal in the entire world!! His name was Mr. Turtles and he had a jingly bell in his tum and, oh he just looked like an old man. Too cute, too precious.

U - universal - I think about universal truths a lot of the time: joy, suffering, that sweet feeling of coming home and taking your pants off, that’s the ticket

V - vulva - the outer portion (lips/labia) is called a VULVA, not a VAGINA. The vagina is internal

W - watercoloring - I think that’s the most beautiful, peaceful leisure activity one can do. There’s no such thing as a bad watercoloring experience

X - xylophone - I played the xylophone in my high school band! Even though I preferred the marimba, but no one ever knows what that is, so I have to say xylophone :p

Y -  yearning - how I hope I’m writing Mc/Cree in these chapters of JGBD

Z - zebra - APPARENTLY it’s supposed to be pronounced zeh-bruh and not zee-bruh

This was fun! 💖❤️

I tag anyone who wants to do this!! Please do it for me [I just don’t want to make you feel obligated!!]