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fuwushiguro · 3 years

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@themotherofmoons moonieeeee my good sis thank u so much for sending this through!! im FERAL! I hope it was worth waiting for ily xxx

This is part of my Playboy Mansion event which is now closed.

Dabi x f!reader x Mr. Compress

Genre: smut

Warnings: 18+, dubcon // noncon, praise kink, oral (male receiving), fingering, pussy slapping, cum eating, vaginal penetration, spanking, degradation, humiliation, smoking.

Words: 2.5k

Your first Playboy party was finally here, and you were lost. You knew the other bunnies thought you were a little incompetent already, so you didn’t want to ask them for help. They were all sweet girls, you really did like them and enjoy their company, but you had no desire to be laughed at for getting lost again.

How many times have we given you this tour?

Is something you’re sure they’d say to you. It’s at least three times, by the way. In your defence, the mansion is enormous. They probably used to get lost too, you haven’t been working at the mansion for long, tonight was your first event after all. Instead of asking a bunny, an idea hit you. You decided to scan the crowd looking for a guest who might look like they know where they’re going. But you didn’t need to look.

They found you.

How could they resist your big doe eyes and the way you looked so helpless and lost? They’d be criminal to leave you to your own devices. They simply couldn’t forgive themselves if they left you unattended. They approached you casually, and you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned to face them, slightly startled by these two men in your personal space.

“You look a little lost dear.”

“Oh, yeah, that obvious huh?” you smiled, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly.

“Allow us to help you, we’re not shy to these parties after all.” he told you, kindly, smiling at his friend. “This is my friend Dabi,” he gestured to the raven-haired man standing beside him.

“How come you’re lost, doll? Don’t you work here?” Dabi commented as he gestured to your bunny costume.

“This is actually my first Playboy party.” you confessed.

“Is that so?” he smirked; it would have sounded more innocent if not for that arousing rasp to his voice. “Mister and I will be more than happy to show you around.” he added, turning to face his friend once again.

Mister? You were confused by the nickname but decided not to press the subject any further. You weren’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. If they were happy to show you around the mansion, why wouldn’t you let them?

☆ ☆ ☆

You walked around the mansion with them, sandwiched in between their bodies. They were extremely close to you, but you’d been warned before about guests being overly affectionate with bunnies. You didn’t feel uncomfortable with them, it was a welcome feeling to have two gorgeous men fix their attention solely on you. You hadn’t expected to garner anyone’s attention in truth. There were seasoned bunnies here, bunnies that guests specifically came to these events for, to spend their time with, to pay a tip to get extra attention from. You were fresh meat; you’d half expected to just be wandering around with nothing to do all night. But here you were, trapped between the bodies of two handsome strangers.

You were having fun. They seemed to be exceptionally good friends, they had a witty banter, and their words were bouncing off each other. Your stomach hurt from laughing so hard. You didn’t feel excluded from the conversation, you were just enjoying them conversing. They often said something to each other and turned to you with a ‘what do you think?’ look in their eyes, and you did your best to stay neutral in their humorous conversations. All the laughter and joking was cut short when your new friends stopped walking. The three of you were standing face to face with a door. It was a door you didn’t recognise, where did it lead?

“What’s this door?” you questioned them, accompanying your question with a head tilt.

“God. You really are a dumb little bunny, aren’t you?” Dabi hissed.

The words stung. The change in attitude from the man you’d only seconds ago been laughing with made your skin crawl. Your flesh was decorated in goosebumps, and you backed away from the duo, opting to find your co-workers instead.

“No.” he rasped at you as he grabbed you by the wrist, pulling you towards him as he opened the door. You didn’t fight it, you weren’t sure what was happening or where you were going but for some reason you felt comfortable enough with him to let him touch you like this.

You looked at your surroundings in the small room, surprised to see the three of you had found yourselves inside a cloak room.

“Don’t look so bewildered love, we’re happy to explain ourselves if you are wondering why we are here.” Mister told you as he adjusted the cuffs of his shirt. You nodded dumbly, still not understanding what was about to happen.

“We come to these parties and fuck as many bunnies as we can, we share the first one, and tonight that’s you.” Dabi told you, and you knew he was serious. His facial expression and speech didn’t falter once. It wasn’t a joke; it was a fact.

You should be scared. You should be crying. You should be scrambling to get away from them, but you aren’t. Why aren’t you scared? Maybe it’s because it’s been so long since you got some action. It’s been so long since anyone has given you this much attention. Part of you hated how desperate you were for this, but the other part of you was revelling in the fact two men had chosen you to spend their time fucking. So you nodded, a little over enthusiastically, and they smiled.

“Okay. Let’s fuck.” you smiled.

“Are you sure darling? We aren’t monsters, if you don’t want to do this you’re free to go.” Mister alerted you, but you shook your head.

“I said, let’s fuck.”

☆ ☆ ☆

The three of you were on the floor together, barely anything had happened and you were all panting feverishly and your skin was damp with sweat. They’d been kind enough to delicately help you out of your corset, although Dabi looked like he wanted to tear it to shreds. It was against the rules to fuck the guests, so if they had destroyed your costume, it would be fairly obvious what happened. Your first Playboy Party would be your last.

Dabi was still fully clothed, you found yourself between his legs on the floor. He forced your legs apart as he began playing with your pussy, the way his fingers danced over your clit made your legs shake. You did your best to control your moans by kissing him.

“Don’t be shy, I wanna hear how good my fingers make you feel.” he smirked before kissing you again. His free hand grabbed and squeezed your breast, rolling the nub of your nipple between his fingers. The sensations across your body were too delicious for mere words to express. Your hips involuntarily bucked into his fingers, and you couldn’t miss the way he kept smarmily smiling at how perfectly he was working your body.

Mister was sitting by your side, his cock was free from his trousers and you did your best to work his shaft while Dabi expertly fondled your cunt. You knew you could do a better job of working Mister, but you were feeling too blissful to put the extra effort in.

“Don’t be a selfish slut sweetheart, make Mister cum.” Dabi instructed you and he delivered a wet slap to your poor cunt. You turned to face Mister and deeply kissed him as your hand gained more speed whilst you jerked him off. You stopped for a second to spit in your hand and rub it up and down the length of his cock, mixing his precum to properly lubricate him.

Dabi rewarded you by plunging two fingers into your sopping core, you were completely unprepared for the stretch his fingers caused. It terrified you slightly to think what his cock would be like.

“What a good girl she is, huh Compress?” Dabi smirked as he pounded his fingers against the spongy spot deep in your cunt that had you writhing in his hold. He peppered kisses down your neck more lovingly than you’d expected, he was trying to calm you down. “Shush baby, focus. Keep being a good girl and focus on getting Compress off.” he cooed into your ear, his sultry deep voice vibrating through your whole body. His voice alone might be enough to drive you to your orgasm.

“You’re doing such a good job darling, just a little m-more.” Mister stuttered as you continued squeezing his length. Your gazes focus kept switching between Mister’s sultry hazel eyes to his pretty cock head. The way it twitched and the veins pumped made you salivate.

“Wanna suck it.” you whispered to him, feeling bashful at your comment.

The hushed tones didn’t go unnoticed by Dabi who pressed another slap into your cunt, causing you to jolt. “What was that? Speak up doll.” he commanded, you shuddered and gulped.

“I- I wanna suck his cock.” you confessed, looking into his azure eyes. He searched your features and an almost sincere smile sprawled across his face. He nodded as he let you go. You were immediately on Mister’s cock, hollowing out your cheeks and showing them both what a talented good girl you are.

Dabi was amused by the way your little plastic bunny ears moved while you went to town sucking Compress off. He loves bunnies. Party weekends are his favourite, it’s rare he’ll miss one. The no fucking rule is a load of shit, everyone fucks here. Every weekend party is just an excuse for the host to let guests fuck these gorgeous little bunnies. And he wasn’t above taking advantage of that. He unzipped his jeans, and you were startled by the feeling of the tip of his cock sliding up and down your slit.

You didn’t want to turn around and look at his cock, but you knew it was going to be huge. You’d felt his bulge against your lower back while he was fingering you. And you could feel the sensation of his mushroom head running against your sopping folds, you could tell you were in for the pounding of a lifetime.

Mister’s breathing staggered, and you knew you were close to getting him to completion. He looked admirably into your eyes, almost a gaze of pride that you were taking him so perfectly.

“I’m going to cum soon sweetheart, do you want to swallow my cum?” he asked you. You didn’t stop your sucking, instead you did your best to nod while you met his gaze with a lustful glare. You used your hands to jerk off what wouldn’t fit in your mouth, the sensations made him jerk into your hold. You ran your tongue across his prominent veins and the slit of his cock which made him shudder. His fingers locked in your hair, it was a needless action, you had no intention of stopping. Not when he was so close.

“I hope you’re still being a good girl for Compress, doll.” Dabi warned, still tormenting your cunt with nothing more than the tip.

“Mhmm!” was all you could respond. The vibrations of your throat brought Mister closer to the edge. And with a hiss between his teeth, he was finally coming undone in your welcoming mouth. His orgasm was louder than you had expected, he moaned through his high as he spurted his seed into your mouth. It was warm, but not unpleasant. You should have expected someone as well spoken and charming as Mister would have a healthy diet. His cum seemed never ending, you were worried it might start dribbling out of your nose soon. But it did stop, and you swallowed it all. You opened your mouth to show him, proving what a well-behaved girl, you are. And he smiled before pressing his lips against yours. Your tongues explored each other, almost like he wanted to taste himself on your tastebuds.

“How was it Mister? Does she deserve to cum?” Dabi questioned. You didn’t know there was even a doubt in his mind that you deserved to cum. You’re all fucking after all. Don’t you all deserve to cum? But Mister nodded, singing your praises. And with that glowing review, Dabi finally entered your desperate entrance, sucking him in as he buried himself to the hilt. “Your cunt looks gorgeous around my cock like this baby.” he told you, the praise warmed your cheeks. He was so smooth, and the way he pounded into your pussy had you head over heels for him. Compress gently stroked his cock as he watched his friend batter your walls. He was examining every inch of you. The way your pussy sheathed his cock so perfectly, the way your tits bounced with each thrust, the way your face beautifully contorted from the feeling of your gummy walls accommodating his friends fat cock.

“You’re such a whore, letting two strangers fuck you in a closet like this.” Dabi chastised, but the words went straight to your cunt. “Heh, you get off on that shit? You get off on being a whore for me? Your pussy just clamped, slut.” he continued berating you. But all you could do was hum in approval. It was convenient for him that your ass was in the air and your back was arched beautifully, because he doesn’t like being ignored. He spanked you harshly and you snapped back into reality.

“Answer me bitch.” he instructed.

“Y-yes. Dabi’s whore! Wanna be your whore Dabi.” you moaned through the pleasure of him relentless pounding your g-spot.

“She’s so obedient, isn’t she Dabi?” Compress spoke, still stroking himself gently.

“Fuck yeah she is, gonna use this pussy again. Next time we’re here I’ll find you. Gonna fuck your brains out til you can’t think straight.” he told you. You had no objections, you’d be more than happy to do this again. Dabi’s drawl was enough to make your pussy flutter and Mister’s cum was so tasty you could eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

“D-Dabi… Dabi… Oh f-fuck.” you cried out sweetly, not being able to gather your thoughts as his heavy cock dragged across your needy walls.

“What is it baby, tell me.” he instructed.

“Wanna cum. Wanna cum s’bad. Fill me up, please Dabi. N-need it.” you huffed, sure you might black out any minute from the pleasure.

“Such a fucking whore.” he smiled as he readjusted himself, he was able to hit you at a deeper angle that made you emit a desperate, sinful groan that alerted him to how close you were. “Go on, cream my cock.” he told you.

Your legs shuddered and the two men laughed at your visceral reaction as you came so powerfully. Your walls had Dabi in a vice grip, and you could feel him spilling into you, filling your cunt to the brim with his seed. You were milking him for all he was worth, and his moans were a lot more squeaky and needy than you’d expected them to be. He didn’t stop pounding you, dragging on the wave of your crashing orgasm further and further. You felt so full. His fat cock snuggled so nicely in your cunt as he pushed his cum further inside of you.

Not another word was spoken. You all laid back on the floor, none of you bothering to hide your intimate areas. All completely blissed out as you contemplated what you just did. It was great, it was quite possibly the best fuck of your entire life. It made you eager for the next party. They already mentioned that they wanted to do this again, so you’d be waiting with bated breath until then.

But you weren’t sure if you could wait that long. You looked at Dabi, he had a cigarette latched between his fingers while he enjoyed the afterglow of his orgasm. He shared it with Compress, they both seemed more than happy with themselves.

“Something on your mind princess?” Dabi asked.

You were shocked out of your thoughts, and you debated whether to speak.

Fuck it, life’s too short.

“Wanna go again… Wanna fuck again, please.” you shyly spoke, not able to look either of them in the eye. Dabi snickered as he took his cigarette back from his friend.

“Looks like you’re up, Mister.”

bby thank u so much for participating! i love u the world!!! honestly ur so amazing ur my first tumblr bestie i appreciate u so wholly i hope ur having a wonderful day and i hope u enjoyed getting freaky deeky with dabi and compress, ily sista xxx

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spideyanakin · 3 years

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Far From Home - Part 3

Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis; Coming from another reality yourself, what will happen when you see straight through the lies of the mysterious Quentin Beck.

Series Masterlist 🍒

Normal Masterlist 🧚🏻‍♀️

So much for Peter's Eiffel tower plan, Nick Fury had decided to change Peter's wish of staying on the down-low and highjack your summer vacation. The morning was dusted in a cold mist between you and Peter that didn't go unnoticed to Ned and Betty.

"You should talk to her dude," Ned said as the silence between the two boys became too dominant.

"No." Peter shook his head. "I don't know what to say, and I don't want to make things worst, we'll just... go to Paris, and I'll apologize." He smiled like nothing was wrong, the sight of you talking with Brad in the distance becoming unbearable to Peter.

As Peter tugged onto his suitcase trying to get to the van that would lead them to the airport, his face fell as he was met with Nick Fury's jet black bus, Dimitri standing right in front.

Peter watched anger bubbling in the pit of his stomach as Brad helped you securely store your suitcase in the compartment of the bus.

"Thanks, Brad." You smiled secretly eyeing Peter from a distance as you pressed a quick kiss to Brad's cheek liking the way Peter's face fell.

"No problem Y/n/n." Brad's face painted with a large smug as he turned around flipping Peter off as you already had your back turned and entered the bus.

"Brad could you hand me my bag please?" you asked making sure you were loud enough for Peter to hear, happy that jealousy was rising in him.

"Of course." He smiled as he grabbed your bag that had rolled down the alley after a few bumps on the road.

"Thanks, you're the best!" You smiled before leaning back in your chair, plugging your headphones before he could even say a word back, closing your eyes and getting lost in a long train of thoughts about Peter.

The quick stop made you jet wide awake. You grumbled something as you fixed your sweater putting your shoes back before standing up and walking out, Dimitri pointing to the building in front.

"Wait so Fury wants us to fight?" A few seconds later you were standing in an old building in the middle of the road, Peter sheepishly standing in front of you. Fury wanted you to fight against those elementals, your anger bubbled inside you waiting to explode.

The lady didn't seem to talk much as she handed you the suit again, confirming the fight in Prague.

"Im not changing in front of him" You grabbed the jet black suit. "I'll call Nick Fury to tell you how it fits." You nodded scared to be disrespectful to the women before bumping into Peter as you walked towards the door loudly closing it behind you.

You stuffed the suit in your bag, making sure no one watched. Once you were satisfied, you slipped a pack of candy you had previously bought in Venice and zipped your bag up, placing it on one shoulder before walking back towards the bus, grumbling as your anger towards Peter and Fury only grew.

"You ok?" Brad asked you as he took the last step down from the bus, seeing the frown on your face.

"Yeah don't worry about it." You passed right through him, too angry to do anything to anger Peter by interacting more with Brad and climbed the few stairs taking a seat in the same corner as before.

"Dimitri?" You asked once the last person had left.

"hmm?" The strong man nodded before turning around to face you.

"How long have you been working for S.H.E.I.L.D?" You wondered as you took your shoes off and opened the bag of candies, plopping one in your mouth.

"Long time," he replied with his thick Russian accent.

"How come I've never seen you before?" You folded your arms as you settled even more in the seats of the bus. "I hang out with Nick Fury all the time." You questioned Dimitri and for the first, in the short time you had met him, he smiled.

"That's because I work in the European quarters."

"Ah. Makes sense." You shrugged before looking at the window getting lost in a small train of thought.

"So you really think this Mysterio guy is a fake?" Dimitri questioned after a short moment of silence and you nodded.

"Yeah! I mean, I come from another reality myself. His story doesn't hold and he can't just poof from one reality to another, you either need training or powers that make you jump through space portals."

"Like Strange?"

"Exactly like Strange. That's how I got here. My best friend is a reality keeper, that's how we saved ourselves." You shifted your stare as your words became uncomfortable for you to say. "And those elementals aren't real. No one will believe me..." You sighed as you felt your eyes getting glossy. Not even Peter, the one you thought was the love of your life didn't believe you.

"How can you be so sure? You never got a chance to explain yourself yesterday..." His thick accent brought a smile to your lips.

"I'm connected to the elements, no matter the reality the elements are always the same. Water always has the same force... The same chemical reaction with air if you want me to put it that way. It doesn't change whether the reality. Same with fire or air or the earth... What I felt in Venice wasn't water. I felt nothing but air, flat normal air." You sighed, taking another candy as a way to cope. Dimitri stayed quiet, thinking of ways to convince Fury to at least listen to you.

"I don't know who that Quentin guy is... But he's definitely not saying the full truth." You continued before opening your phone, definitely needing a change of ideas. "That's the one reason im agreeing with Nick Fury's plan."

"To keep a close eye on Beck?"

"Exactly." You replied shifting in your seat as you started getting lost on your social media.

Dimitri sighed and looked at the small patch of grass that he had parked on, not knowing what to say. But before another word could be shared, Flash and his group of friends climbed into the bus, Flash's loud voice for his live making you plug in your headphones.

You thought it was going to be a peaceful ride until you spotted Peter with what you recognized to be Tony Stark's glasses sitting on the rim of his nose with panic in his eyes. He made eye contact with you trying to reach for help, pointing towards the back of the bus where a killer drone was casually soaring in the air on its way to kill. Your eyes widen and Peter suddenly made the bus turn around, screaming to everyone for baby mountain goats. Your stare becoming serious as Peter went back down after destroying it.

Brad suddenly came sitting next to your making you grumble as he broke you from your peaceful moment of trying to get over Peter.

"I'm not interested, Brad." You deadpanned as he almost stuffed his phone in your face.

"But- wait I swear this is-" He stammered as he tried to find something, nervously scrolling through his phone.

"Brad- just leave. Please."

The rest of the day flashed in front of you feeling like only angry grumbles towards Peter and complaining.

"Im not going to argue with you again." You stammered as you walked straight past Peter who was desperate to make amends. After his hopes to recover your truth in Paris, this was Peter's only hope.

The matching black stealth suits that you were both given made Peter's head spin as he watched your beautiful figure walk by in it, forgetting for a second about your fight. He watched as you placed your mask on, this time it covered your entire face and like usual your hair was loose behind you.

You looked around the grounds as you slightly jumped off the roof of the building, passing right my Mysterio on the way. You caught yourself using the winds and started walking around the crowd of festivities.

"You're lucky to have a girl like that." Mysterio broke Peter's moment of staring as you approached the fountain where the 'heatwave' was spotted.

"Yeah..." Peter sighed as he approached the border of the building ready to swing away. "But... I think we're over." He played with the tips of his gloved hands as he felt the new tears rise up to his eyes.

"oh."

"She's mad at me becaus-" He turned around to face him, thinking of rambling his feelings out for a few minutes but quickly catching himself. "Nevermind." He shook his head letting out a sad chuckle as he felt the tears line up, pushing them away as he got ready to execute the plan.

You couldn't feel a hint of heat as the ground suddenly melted, a giant fire monster slowly rising from the iron and metal that decorated the area.

You took a few steps back and placed your hand on the floor, freezing the ground in a few seconds, waiting until it reached the monster. But as it did, your powers felt as though they were on autopilot as you blinked for a few seconds watching the ice slowly invade the monster.

Sensing something was wrong, you fully let go of your powers as though you weren't doing anything, and to your surprise, the ice continued by itself as though you had never stopped using it.

You watched keeping a hand on the ground to fool Mysterio, watching when the monster melted the ice that magically appeared.

"Who is this man?" You whispered to yourself as you looked around sensing the small flying things that scattered the air. Suddenly a web shot right across you sticking to one of those invisible flying machines that clouded the air, loudly dropping a piece onto the floor.

You eyed it with your sharp eyes and started walking to it, to your surprise spotting MJ as you did.

"MJ!" you accidentally called out her name, placing a hand over your mouth in panic, stammering on your wowhatever do you know my name?" She questioned with a knowing smirk as she held onto the electronic piece.

"I- I have to go but, you- you hang on to this alright?" you asked as she stared at you with a knowing look. "And be careful, please" you sighed and she smiled as she was now 100% sure it was you and Peter behind the mask.

The rest of the fight went just as Mysterio planned. Just enough chaos and just enough everything to make Peter believe every single lie Mysterio wanted him to believe.

"You didn't want to be here." You winced as Nick Fury ended his sentence directed at Peter. "And you." He turned you a mix of anger and disappointment rising. "Do you see what could have happened if we didn't fight that thing?" Nick Fury pointed to the mess. "Fix what ever your powers are telling you, but you owe this man an apology." And with that Nick Fury turned on his heels and headed to his car leaving you and your anger.

Both you and Peter felt like tearing up, Peter definitely showing it more than you were. You balled your fist up making the wind blow around everyone without even realizing it.

"Let's get some drinks kids." Mysterio placed a hand on your shoulder to calm you down. He nodded towards you and you angrily turned your body away, Peter too devasted by Fury's words to notice the interaction.

"No." you almost screamed. "I don't know what evil things you have planned or how you managed to do that but I won't follow you anywhere!" You cried out and tried to release your hand from his grip but he brought you close to him.

"You'll be sorry for that." His grip on your wrist became harder, almost hurting you, Mysterio releasing you as you were terrorized in

fear.

"you will regret this." You pointed to Mysterio before turning around on your heels, wondering if Peter had even caught a word of the conversation.

"Well, Peter?" Peter turned around at the mention of his name. "How about a drink?"

"Im 16-"

"I'll just get you a lemonade then." He gave him a charming smile as he approached Peter, wrapping his arm around his shoulders.

You grumbled something that might have not been English as you walked back to the hotel. The cold air of the night whispering in your ears as you made your way into a few dark streets feeling a certain change in the air behind you.

Before you could even turn around to see, you were hit in the head by something heavy causing you to crash to the floor, the world becoming blurry before dark hit your eyes.

- - - - -

@averyfosterthoughts @justifymyfeelings @slytherinambitious @ourfavoritesergeantbarnes @criminaly-supernatural @trustfundparker @tomhollandreads @prettysbliss @ksmy-99 @allycat449-blog @supernaturallover2002

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the-scottish-costume-guy · 4 years

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JK Rowling, transphobia and a hopefully helpful post.

A few days ago I posted on my Facebook (yes I have one sue me) debunking some of the things Rowling has been saying on twitter. Since she made a statement I felt the need to make another one... but this time Im sharing it here. Please note this is long, it is fairly opinionated in places but her statements have felt so insidious I want to share something in depth. If you are cis I implore you to read, but I understand this is long and a lot of people wont want to. No judgement.

Jk Rowling’s latest statement is a mess of valid concerns and fear mongering. At this point there can be no claim she doesn’t know what shes talking about - she herself has said shes been researching this for years. She throws in token acknowledgements to “real” trans people while framing the rest of her statements as concern for confused teens.So first things first - and something that might not be popular with some of my trans friends. I agree that teenagers should not be able to medically transition. It is a choice that should be made when the brain is fully mature. Hormone blockers are something I trust - and that are reversible. I have seen enough detransitioned people hurting to feel like we do need to be careful - especially with children who are trying to find themselves. I dont know about other people but during my teens I was coming to the crushing realisation that I wasn’t special. I was learning that no matter how well I painted someone else did it better, no matter how badly I hurt someone had it worse - I was learning about the wonderful mediocrity of life, and having anything that made me stand out gave a brief reprieve from learning to be okay with all these things. For me to be fair it was dying my hair outrageous colours and dressing in black leather during 30 degree summer heat - but its still something we cant forget. I KNOW a lot of kids claiming to be trans are - and I dont want to keep that from them, however I dont want to cause harm to the kids that are wrong. Continuing on, I’d like to address her comments about TERFS. Terfs are Self Described Trans-exclusionary-radical-feminists and the term does get thrown around a little too liberally at times. Terf is not and never will be a slur. No more than “White” is. It is about a group of people who have taken it open themselves to segregate another group - and calling that what it is, is not a crime. The reason Terf and transphobe have become synonomic is because the ‘radical feminists’ that subscribe to this have lost focus on nearly all other issues of feminism and sit squarely on “dropping the T” from the lgbt community and “keeping men out of womens bathrooms.” Terfs are overwhelmingly women - this is sadly simply a fact. Terfs are reviled because of how much it feels like a betrayal to the community. A group that fights for rights - except ours. A group that wants equality - except for us. Its different to the conservatives who hate us all equally - with Terfs we are singled out. Terfs are not, as Rowling claims, inclusionary to Trans-men. I’ve been met with a combination of pity, loathing, mockery and revulsion by people within this group. I’ve been told that I shouldn’t let homophobia push me into transitioning - only for all correspondence to abruptly drop when I mention Im marrying another man. I’ve been told my old body was beautiful - only for stunned silence when I agree. I was beautiful - I was curvy, I was a dancer and had a body to match - but I wasn’t Me. When their usual arguments against me fail - I’m met with hate. Im called anti-woman, traitor, homophobic. I even have some such comments saved on my blog. I have yet to meet a Terf who was pro-trans-man. Rowling claims that had she had the ability, as a confused teen, she may have sought to transition. I hate to tell her but she did have the ability and trans people didn’t pop into existence in the twenty-first century. I’m actually looking to do my dissertation topic in my final year on lgbt presentation throughout history - and in my overeager way I’ve already started researching. James Barry has been becoming a common name for years - a transgender surgeon who died in 1865. If Barry was able to at least socially transition from 1790 to 1860, I am fairly sure Rowling could have in 1980 - over a century later. Rowling also claims that groups of friends in schools all suddenly identify as trans at the same time. Speaking from my school experience - the queer kids group together. We seek out others like us, and we take strength from each others bravery to come out - often around the same time. We almost get a rush of resolve when one of our group musters the courage and strength, and some of us use that rush to bite the bullet ourselves. Its one of the beautiful ways the lgbt community is here for one another - and the influx of people identifying as trans is partially a factor of more people knowing the name of their feelings. Survivor bias will ignore the trans people through history without the knowledge or means to transition - and will claim they were never trans at all. Her initial statements about charities worry me in particular. As I said last time - we know sex is real, we just dont really like to be defined by it. She is worried that we’re going to “rebrand medicine” and ignores that medications for years have had warnings in their leaflets about “If you are or become pregnant” regardless of if the person receiving it has a dick or a vagina. We dont advocate for ignoring the differences in how people respond to heart attacks - and I for one would like research to be done on how hormones effect that. I dont actually know if I would respond more like a cis gender woman or a cis gender man if I were to have a heart attack or a stroke. But where possible we do want to change the language around some of these things. I have had a double mastectomy, but some Cis-men have these as well. This is not a gendered term. Why should a period be called anything else? Why call it a “womens problem.” I and Im sure many other trans people, support the research into how different medical and mental issues affect different sexes. I just think that should be extended further - and we know it should, as some medical issues affect people of different ethnicities in different ways and we don’t know how. I am truly sorry that Rowling has experienced abuse and assault of any nature. I am truly sorry that she has felt unsafe. But her feelings do not invalidate others experiences. Of the trans people I know, a saddening number have been assaulted, have been abused and in particular have experienced these things domestically. There is much work to be done on this in the UK. There are nearly no mens shelters for sufferers of violence to my knowledge. I, a trans man who have experienced some of these things in my teen years, would Not want to be around cisgender women even if I could be. A cis woman was responsible for much of the pain I personally suffered - and in fact one of the acts of violence she carried out against me was directly after I came out as trans to her. Trans women, even if they could go to male shelters, should not have to be surrounded by a group that put them in danger - in a place that is detrimental to them physically and mentally and is frankly degrading. The belief that allowing trans women into shelters for those escaping abuse is dangerous is sad. To be so afraid is deserving of pity. To let fear blind you to the suffering of others - to think its better that a trans woman face homelessness or a return to an abusive household because you personally would sleep better at night is the kind of passive evil we should be aware of in this day and age. It comes from choosing to see the word “trans” before “person.” Its from choosing to see a persons genitals before their humanity. Trans people are not dangerous - and cause no greater risk than any other demographic. Her claims that she can empathise with this fear are empty. A gender recognition certificate is not a ticket into womens bathrooms. Funnily enough you dont actually require a piece of paper to go almost anywhere. I do not have a gender recognition certificate and use male bathrooms, can enter male spaces as I please. All a gender recognition certificate does is change the letter on your birth certificate. It doesn’t even affect other forms of identification - my passport, my student id, my drivers license all already say male. I am not sure why so many people have chosen this as their hill to die on because its the least relevant thing to them on the planet. How often have any of you seen another persons birth certificate? Rowling says she and other ‘gender critical’ (a terf dogwhistle) people are concerned for trans youth. Well… she can take her condescending concern and direct it to matters that are relevant to her. Trans people want to be left alone. Its a simple request, and yet people endlessly seem to trip over the dirt level bar.

#transgender #jk rowling #terf #transphobia #lgbt #uk politics #I'm prob gonna get shit for this arent I

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diddlesanddoodles · 4 years

Text

Dumpling ch 27

When they made it back to the library, the sun had already set and though she knew Farris was going to be angry that she had not returned before his curfew, it was the farthest thing on her mind.

“For the time being,” Maevis said to Jae and Nenani. “I think it best we keep what has happened here to ourselves.”

“Shouldn’t we tell Warren?” Jae asked dubiously. “I mean, he has a right to know.”

Maevis nodded. “I will broach it with his majesty and when Keral returns, I will share our new information with him as well. But for you two...act as though nothing has happened.”

“Well...I did kind of tell Farris that were looking for dead people in the tunnels.” Jae admitted sheepishly.

“Then you will tell him you found the lost tunnel, but no catacombs,” Maevis instructed. “And that because of your unfamiliarity, you got lost. Perhaps that will gain you a little sympathy for the hour.”

Jae leveled a flat and unimpressed look at the magician. “…I don’t know if you’ve actually ever met Farris, but that’s not really something he does.”

“Nenani,” Maevis said, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Today must have been very hard for you. I am sorry to have drug you through all of it.”

“How are we going to find the fallen flame?” she asked.

Maevis looked at her, taken aback, but seemed very pleased that she had not been reduced to a further sobbing incoherent mess by the day’s events. “First we must ascertain what, or who, this fallen flame is. Barnaby has likely retired already for the night and I will not rouse him. The poor man needs his rest, but tomorrow we will begin our research. But for now, I believe both of you need some supper and a good night’s sleep.”

“I don’t think I’m going to be getting much sleep after seeing the glowing green skeleton garble cryptic nonsense at us,” Jae said, rubbing the back of his head. “...Donal’s gonna hate me tomorrow.”

“No, I don’t suppose any of us should expect a peaceful night tonight,” Maevis agreed. “But we should make the effort regardless.”

“Come on, Nenani,” Jae said in tired resignation. “I’ll take you back to Farris. Maybe if you give him your best kicked puppy look he won’t be that angry.”

……………………………………………

The cooking fires had been extinguished when they made it into the camp proper and everyone had retired to the hut for the night. As Nenani and Jae approached, they could hear voices from inside and what seemed to be an argument. Farris’s irate voice chief among them.

“...better have one damn good excuse!”

“It’s the brat yer talking about,” said someone. Nenani was sure that it was Bart as it was too deep for anyone else. “He won’t have anythin’ but a mouth full of excuses.”

“You should go find that old cocotte, boss.” Someone laughed and she heard Yale reply, “It’s in the back of the tent on top of the larger oak chest. Y’know. Just in case.”

“Not a bad suggestion, lads.”

Beside her, Nenani heard Jae grumble unhappily. “This day just keeps getting better and better...”

“You don’t need to stay,” she told him. “I’m fine.”

Jae glanced at her with furrowed brows. “Are you sure? Because you’re awfully...quiet. I mean, seeing the thing and hearing all that junk...it freaked me out. Aren’t you scared?”

She thought about it. “The smoke mage scares me more. A lot more. But the skeleton doesn’t. Not really. I mean he does, it was a talking skeleton! He was a skeleton and we was talking! But...he didn’t seem to want to hurt me and he did tell us some things, so that has to be good, right? He wanted to help.”

“I guess...still freaky.”

“Very freaky,” she agreed. “And it does help to talk about it, I mean. When it was just in my head all the time it just felt like it got bigger and bigger until I couldn’t stand it anymore and sometimes it was all I could think about. But...saying it all out loud helped a lot. And you were right about Maevis. He’s really good about making you feel better when your scared.”

Jae smiled fondly. “Yeah. He is. For a man, he’s very motherly.”

She laughed. “He’s very kind.”

“So I guess I’ll leave you to your fate then,” Jae said and was about to say his goodbyes when the moonlight above them was abruptly cut off. They both looked up and any hope that Nenani could somehow muster a pitiful look great enough to surmount Farris’s anger was quickly dashed when they saw the spice master’s face.

“Ah shit...” Jae said just as Farris reached down and grabbed him up by the back of his tunic. “AH! Fuck, Farris! Put me down!” Nenani was also quickly swept up into his other hand and without a word, the giant marched back to the hut with his prizes. Farris used his shoulder to push his way into room with his captives and all eyes turned to them.

“Ah! Well, look what the cat dragged in!” Kol laughed.

“Hold ‘em, Yale.” Farris said gruffly as he dumped both Jae and Nenani into Yale’s lap and turned back out into the night. He caught Nenani awkwardly and Jae mostly fell onto the cot, but Yale was quick to grab onto the young man’s leg as he tried to scurry away.

“Oh no ya don’t, boyo!” Yale laughed.

Jae twisted and kicked at Yale’s hand and managed to wiggle his foot out as Yale tried to adjust his grip on Nenani. But as Jae tried to make a break for the door, Bart’s foot was there to block his path and then rough and hard hands gripped him around the middle and lifted him up. Bart sat the flailing boy on his thigh and held him, ruffling his hair and making the unhappy human even more so.

“Nice try, lad,” Bart chuckled. “But ye should’a known better than cross Farris.”

“It was an accident!” Jae protested, experimentally wiggling in Bart’s grip, but Bart had a solid hold of him. “It’s not like there are windows in those tunnels, y’know!”

“Aye, but this ain’t yer first offense neither, is it boy?”

Jae sighed, exasperated as he tried to fix his hair. “Great...what else did I do?”

“Brought the lil’un back without ‘er marker,” the butcher replied.

Jae paused and considered that. “Oh...yeah.”

“And then before that,” Yale added, fixing his grip on Nenani so she sat in the loop of his arm. “Ya

brought her back all drunk off a’ Maevis’s loopy juice.”

“Yeah, but that one wasn’t my fault,” Jae protested. “That shouldn’t count!”

“And yet it does,” Saen added, his wide grin just making Jae all the more irate. But his bluster and bravado dropped like a rock when Farris walked back into the hut caring a cocotte. The kitchen staff burst out into raucous laughter at the sight and Jae just stared incredulously.

“You got to be joking,” Jae said, real worry starting to sink in and he started to struggle, but Bart just held him firmly.

Farris took the lid off the cocotte and jerked his head. “Put ‘im in, Bart.”

Bart was laughing loudly as the others as he complied with Farris’s order and forced Jae into the open bowl of the pot. “Duck yer head, boy,” Bart chuckled he pressed the human’s head down and Farris’ slipped the lid on top.

“LET ME OUT OF HERE YOU FUCKERS! THIS ISN’T FUNNY!” Nenani could hear the muffled sounds of Jae’s kicks against the metal pot’s sides. She sank into Yale, trying to maker herself as small as possible.

“You may not think so!” Kol said to Jae with a loud and boisterous laugh. “Oh...oh, Gods. I can’t breathe.”

Everyone was beside themselves with mirth and Nenani ducked down further behind Yale’s arm as Farris sat the cocotte down on the floor and use one foot to secure the lid. He flicked his sharp and angry green eyes to meet her own.

“Told ya one thing, didn’t I?” Farris asked, his voice deceptively low. She could almost see the vein at his temple throb with ire. His face was almost purple. She nodded, gulping nervously.

“And what did I fuckin’ say?”

“...to be back before sundown,” she replied meekly.

“Aye. Ya see the sun anywhere, lil’un?”

“No, sir.”

“And yet ye two come strollin’ in two hours passed curfew!” Farris’s voice rose and it sounded very loud in the small hut.

“We didn’t mean to!” she protested.

Farris pinned her with a very unamused look and jerked his head down the cocotte under his foot. “Ye wanna join ‘em in there, Dumplin’?”

She shook her head vigorously.

“Then don’t be feedin’ me any ‘a that,” He warned. “Your punishment comes tomorrow, lass. When I tell ya to do somethin’ or when’ta do it, it ain’t no request. I expect it to be done the way I told ya. Understand me?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Good. ‘Cause next time somethin’ like this happens, I’m stuffin’ ya both in there.”

“THERE’S NO ROOM!” Jae’s muffled reply came from down near the floor.

“I’ll get a bigger one.” Farris replied flatly.

“Ugh, fucking piece of...how long are you gonna make me stay in here?”

Farris scratched the side of his face as he considered. “Ye got ‘bout eight hours before the sun rises and nine before Donal will be expectin’ ya.”

“YOUR GONNA MAKE ME SIT IN HERE ALL NIGHT?!”

“Aye. Use it as a’ opportunity to figure out how to tell time in th’ dark so this won’t be happenin’ again.”

“FARRIS FOR REAL. THIS WAS FUNNY WHEN I WAS TEN, BUT THERE IS A LOT LESS SPACE IN HERE NOW!”

“Settle in, brat. Ye ain’t gettin’ out till I say.”

“Wha –? Seriously?”

“Aye.”

“DAMMIT, FARRIS –!”

………………………………………………

Farris had not been bluffing when he told Jae he would be spending the night inside of the cocotte and as everyone began to get into their cot’s for the night, Farris weighed the lid down with a large rock before settling into his cot and closing his eyes. But in the early morning hours before the sun had risen, Nenani woke from a fretful and not very refreshing sleep to see Farris at the edge of his cot, wiping away the sleep from his eyes before looking down at the cocotte. He bent down to remove the rock and slipped the lid off. Jae was curled up inside, fast asleep. His chest rose and sank slowly as he breathed.

Farris touched the young man’s back and nudged him. “Come on, boy. Wake up.”

Jae groaned and twisted in response to the prodding, but before he was fully awake, Faris slipped his hand under the young man and pulled him out. The bleary eyed human was set on his feet, but Farris held him steady as he found his footing and once Jae was awake enough to stand for himself, Farris nudged him towards the hut’s door. “Off with ye now. Ye got a few hours yet before Donal will be lookin’ fer ya. Go get a bit a’ rest in a real bed. And don’t think I won’t put ye back in there if ye don’t start mindin’ me, eh?”

Jae just mumbled something noncommittally, still half asleep, rubbing at his eyes. Farris snorted, but the edges of his mouth curled into a light smile. He pressed his knuckles into Jae’s back to encourage him forward.

“I’m going, I’m going...” Jae replied sleepily. “Geez...first that fucking skeleton ghost and then fucking cocottes...never gonan get a full night’s sleep again at this rate. Just gonna tell Donal I’m sick or somethin’.”

Farris narrowed his eyes. “What was that?”

Jae turned back to stare blurry eyed at the spice master. “Huh? What was what?”

“...skeleton ghost?”

Jae was suddenly very much awake and his mouth floundered as he tried to explain himself. “Oh...uh. Not...uh. Nothing. Just nothing.”

“Yer were always a terrible liar, boy,” Farris said with a warning peppering his voice.

“Just a bad dream is all,” Jae replied, but even Nenani could tell that his nervous body language gave away the lie.

Farris pinned Jae with a look. “Jae?”

The young human opened his mouth as though he were going to answer, but paused and then turned on his heals and ran out of the hut before the giant could make a grab for him. Farris just glared after him and sighed. “Gods piss on it...”

Nenani watched silently from her spot tucked up against Yale’s side as Farris spent a few quiet moments for himself in the quiet, just looking out passed the open door to the sun as it slowly started to peak over the edge of the horizon. When the first hint of sunlight crept into the hut, Farris stood up with a grunt. “Alright, boys. Get yer lazy arses up and let’s get to it!”

Yale had become very good at sensing where Nenani was in the mornings and well before she felt Yale stir, his hand slipped under her and he pulled her up with him as he sat up, yawning. Yale was still rubbing the sleep from his face when Farris stepped up to his cot and held his hand out.

“Huh?” Yale asked, looking up at him.

Farris gestured with his fingers. “Hand me the Dumplin’, Yale. She’s with me today. I’ll leave the mornin’ prep to ye to look over.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Yale replied, holding Nenani out to Farris. She settled easily into his warm hands, regretting her poor sleep and as Farris gave out the orders and quickly ran through the day’s work assignments, she laid her head against his chest and closed her eyes. There was no chance the smoke mage could get near her. Not with Farris around. Even with him angry at her, she still felt perfectly safe. The warm ball she had curled herself into, however, was abruptly undone when Farris sat her down on the cold wooden table inside the tent. The morning chill lingered even as the braziers and cook fires were lit.

“Now then,” Farris said as he placed several empty jars onto the table and filled them with vinegar. “By the end of breakfast, I’m expectin’ these all finished. Hear me, lass?”

She looked at the jars and counted. There were seven. It had taken her almost an entire day to do nine and now Farris wanted seven within a few hours. Her face must have betrayed her inner turmoil, because Farris laughed.

“Oh, aye. I’m serious. Seven by end of breakfast, girl. Best be gettin’ a move on then,” he said. “I’ll check on ya in a bit an’ don’t let me catch ya slackin’ none. Remember; that cocotte’s empty now and I’m sure yer plenty small enough t’be fittin’ just fine.”

Her strategy starting off was to pre-ground all of each ingredient first and then divvy them between each jar. She started with the licorice root as it was the easiest one and then started in on the ginger next. Farris peaked in on her after the first hour as she was just starting in on the ginger, but seemed satisfied enough to leave her at it. As she ground up the yellow roots, her mind began to drift and all she could focus on was the spirit’s words of warning.

“Find...the fallen flame...little one. They are...the one...who survived...the slaughter...of the ancient...blood...who has...no name...to pass...to her children.”

She wondered if Maevis or Barnaby were up yet and if they had began to look for clues. It just felt like they were sinking deeper into the mud and no where closer to knowing anything more about the smoke mage. It frustrated her to no end and it was only when she realized she had all but mashed the ginger into soup that she snapped out of it. She stared into the yellow goop clinging to the bowl and pestle. Her dress and hands were splattered with it. The smell clung to her.

“He is...the smoldering...wreck...of a man...once promised...great things.”

A wreck of a man promised great things. Was he out for revenge? What had he been promised? Had the fallen flame...wronged him? But why was he coming after her if this fallen flame was who he was really after? What had her Uncle done to deserve the death he got, stuck down by this mad man…

Her breath hitched in her throat as a sudden thought came to her. In her dream, her Uncle had spoken to the smoke mage and had said...said that he would be denied again.

“You will be denied. This time and every other. You have haunted my family all these years, took everything we ever had, and yet still you are here, demanding more!”

“I will have what is mine. I will see the dead walls rise...”

“You bathe in the blood of thousands. And crown yourself emperor of a mountain of bones. But you are not my King. No King at all...and she will never be yours, no matter how you twist and pull these threads. In this life or the next! She chose Hayron.”

She chose...Hayron. Her father.

“Mama?” Nenani asked aloud to the winds. “Mama...chose Papa...over him...”

Her mother...was the fallen flame. Oira. The woman who rocked her to sleep and sang her lullabies. Who made her clothes and teased her when she grew too big for them. Her gentle, warm smile. Her laugh. The smell of her hair and feeling of being wrapped in her arms. Safe and loved and…

The smoke mage had taken her mother from her. Had murdered her father and her uncle. And now he came for her. A nauseating pull from inside her stomach had her doubled over and it was only when she struggled to take in a breath of air that she realized she was crying. Yelling. Screaming. The flap to the tent flew open and many bodies rushed inside. She heard their voices, but could not understand their words. Hands, warm and soft, touched her lightly and she shrank back. There was a horrible urge to bite and scratch and hurt something. Someone. It was difficult to resist the urge.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” she yelled, her voice cracking and making her throat ache. Her head hurt so badly now. Sound made everything hurt and all she wanted was to curl up and disappear into nothing. No sound. No touch. None of it…

“NENANI!” She opened her eyes to find bright green irises looming over her, hands cradling her in large open palms. Yale was looking down over Farris’s shoulders in worried bewilderment. She saw Saen and Harit. Farris’s face was suddenly all she could see and she realized belatedly that he was speaking to her. “What is it, lil’un? What’s wrong? Talk to me, lass!”

Her chest heaved in great gasping sobs and she couldn’t speak. She couldn’t meet his eyes and she pressed her knees to her chest, curling into herself and shaking. It was too much. Everything hurt and throbbed and she was so tired. No more. Please no more. Help me. Please. Someone...

She could feel Farris’s hand rub down her back, trying to soother her. To calm her. His voice washed over her in a worried, soft brush of air. “Come on, lil’un. Breathe now. Yer alright...”

“He...he’s coming to kill me...” she told him, choking on her own tears.

“What?” Farris’s voice did not sound like his normal self. He sounded concerned. Very concerned. “What are ye talkin’ about? Who wants t’be killin’ ya?”

“...the smoke mage...”

“What? What the fuck is a smoke mage? Ain’t no one after ya, Nenani. Ye had a bad dream is all.”

“No,” she said, shaking he head and the looked up to meet his gaze with wet and wild eyes, full of fear and desperation. “No, Farris...please. I...I’m in trouble...really bad trouble.”

And she told him. Everything.

……………………………………………………………………….

His heart was pounding loudly in her ear, but she did not care. She pressed her forehead into the fabric of his shirt as he carried her through the halls, his hands pressing her to his chest protectively. Everything passed by in a blur and her head ached and her tummy hurt...

There was a crash as a door was violently flung open and she could smell parchment and ink.

“MAEVIS!” Farris roared, the sound of it echoing around the large expanse of the King’s Library. “GET OUT HERE YA FUCKER!”

“F-Farris! What on earth is the matter?” she heard Barnaby speak. He sounded alarmed. She didn’t blame him, though. Farris sounded murderous.

“Holy hell Farris!” Jae. What was he doing in the library? Didn’t he have work?

“Gods above, Farris, what ever is the...ah,” Maevis’s voice came from the other end of the room. “Oh my. I think I know why you’re here...”

“OH, I BET YE DO! WHEN THE FUCK WERE YA GONNA TELL ME SOME LUNATIC’S BEEN TRYIN’ TO KILL MY FUCKIN’ WARD?!”

“Farris, please. I understand you’re angry...”

“ANRGY? YA THINK I’M ANGRY? MAEVIS, I COULD GLADLY HURL YER USELESS ARSE OUT THAT FUCKIN’ WINDOW RIGHT NOW!”

“Please. This is not helping. I can tell you everything if you just...”

“JUST WHAT? SIT DOWN AND HAVE SOME DAMN FUCKIN’ TEA? LOOK AT HER, YA FUCKIN’ NUTCASE! SHE’S SHAKIN’ TO PIECES!”

“We can explain what’s going on, but...”

“AND YOU, BOY! YOU KNEW AND DIDN’T SAY A DAMN WORD EITHER! YA TOOK HER INTO THOSE TUNNELS AND FUCKING….WHAT? WOKE SOME DEAD FUCKER UP? AND YA THOUGHT IT’D BE A GRAND IDEA FER HER TO SEE THAT?”

“We needed her there to be able hear them if they spoke.”

“SHE’S A FUCKIN’ BABE, MAEVIS! A CHILD! SHE SHOULDN’T BE ANYWHERE NEAR THIS MESS!”

“BUT SHE IS!” Maevis’s voice matched Farris’s. “She’s firmly in the thick of whatever it is this Smoke Mage is after. We’re trying to find out what he wants. To protect her!”

“IT AIN’T YER FUCKIN’ JOB TO BE PROTECTIN’ HER! IT’S MINE!”

“Farris, please, listen to us,” Jae begged. “This guy is really bad news. That dead guy gave us some clues to how to stop him and that’s what we’re trying really hard to figure out. We have to find this fallen flame person and...”

“WHAT THE FUCK IS A FALLEN GODDAMN FLAME?!”

“We think it’s a person. Maybe someone who...”

“Mama...” Nenani said quietly, uncurling herself from Farris’s shirt. Her head hurt so much…

“What?” Maevis asked. “Nenani, what did you say?”

“Mama is...was the fallen flame.”

“You’re...mother?”

“Nenani,” Barnaby said to her, his voice urgent and pleading. “Nenani, dear, I need you to tell me. Was your mother’s name Aine?”

“No...her name was Oira...”

“Yes, my dear, but was her full name Aine Elaine Oira?”

“I...I don’t know.”

“Nenani, please, this is very important. I have reason to believe you are right, that the person the spirit spoke of is your mother. This fallen flame, but I need to know...”

“But she’s dead...she can’t help us. He killed her. And Papa...” Nenani said. There was another painful throb inside her head and she felt ill. “My head hurts...”

“Farris, put her here,” Maevis said gently, gesturing to the table.

“What are –?”

“I have some tonic to help with the pain. She’s hurting.”

She felt his hands curl around her for a moment before he lowered her onto the table. Barnaby was next to her suddenly and held up a tea cup, a small amount of bluish liquid at the bottom. “Drink, my dear. It will help.”

She tipped the cup back and the liquid hit her throat and she began to cough. It tastes vile and burned a little. Barnaby rubbed her back as she coughed. “There’s a good dear.”

“Oh my child,” Maevis said, standing near one end of the table with his hands pressed to the surface. “I am so sorry...”

Farris growled. “Ye should be fuckin’ apologizin’ to me dammit, Maevis. Does the King know? Why hadn’t ye said anythin’ before?”

“Yes. You’re right,” the magician said, bowing his head. “And I will explain what we know now and…wait.” Maevis’s head tilted to the side as though he had heard a sudden noise. “What…?”

“Huh?” Jae asked, taking a few steps towards him. “What’s wrong?”

“I just –Oh!” Maevis’s looked worried now. “Oh no…”

“What’s ‘oh no’? Maevis?” Jae asked, his own voice beginning to sound worried.

“One of my barriers was just destroyed...”

“What? Now? Where?”

“The one I cast near the north tower and...” Maevis’s eyes opened wide. “Another! Some...someone is dismantling my barriers!”

The magician ran to the window and thrust it open. The cold morning air rushed in, scattering a few papers. Nenani’s head gave another powerful, painful throb and she dropped the tea cup and it shattered at her feet. Farris loomed above her protectively, reaching an arm around her.

“Jae, my boy,” Barnaby said as he hurriedly thrust something wrapped in a hemp blanket into the young man’s arms. “Take this.”

“What is…?” Jae unwrapped the top part of the bundle and from the folds of it was the hilt of a sword. Jae starred at it in disbelief and apprehension. “What –?!”

“Just in case,” Barnaby said, his face strained. “Just in case.”

“Wha...where the hell did you get a sword?” Jae demanded. “And why do I need it?”

Nenani’s head was swimming and the tonic did not seem to be helping at all. In fact, it seemed to make it that much worse. She heard the voices around her argue and speak, but she did not hear or understand them. She was too engrossed with trying to fight the painful aching between her temples. And then she smelled it. The scent of ash and smolder. She opened her eyes and looked around the room, searching with fervent paranoia. Her eyes were drawn to the velvet curtain that marked Maevis’s private study and there she saw it. Thin tendrils of smoke leaking up from behind the curtain and she followed it up and up to the ceiling. The face of a stag skull starred back at her, its two red eyes glowing from high up. He seemed to be suspended in air, but she realized he was crouched on the topmost shelf a hundred or so feet up, staring down at them.

“UP!” Nenani screamed, raising her hand towards the black cloaked intruder. They all craned their heads up and finally he was revealed to them. He was no longer a possible figment of Nenani’s imagination. He was there. He was real. And they all saw him.

“Stay down, lass.” Farris told her, nudging her down into the safety of his looped arm.

“By the seventh seal...” Baranby breathed as he too laid eyes on the smoke mage. The stag skull mask turned to the archivist and tilted curiously. “It’s true...”

“Well I am surprised,” the black figure said, high amusement in his tone. “Is that truly you, archivist? I did not think you were still alive, but there you are. Still intact and everything! It appears you’ve managed to escape their soup pot all these years. Too bony for you, giants? I can rough him up a bit for you. Make him a little more tender.”

“How...” Barnaby seemed lost for words and in great distress.

“Shut your filthy mouth, Mage,” Maevis growled up at the figure, reaching out to wrap his hands around Barnaby and pulling him closer to his person. “If you should even think about harming him, I will rip your legs off.”

The smoke mage just laughed. “And you magician. Your annoying spells and incantations have been quite bothersome. Forgive me if I wasn’t very delicate in dismantling them. They were in my way.”

“What do you want here?” Maevis demanded.

“You have something of mine. I am simply here to collect. As well as pay you back handsomely for destroying my favorite pet. He still had plenty of use let in him before his body would have given out.”

“There is nothing for you here. I suggest you leave.”

“No,” the mage said and pointed his finger down towards Farris. “No, I don’t believe I will. I have need of that one. That thorn guard’s bastard...”

Farris growled a deep, guttural, feral sound, and his arm pulled Nenani closer to him. “Over my fuckin’ rottin’ corpse ye will, ye hazey lil’ fuck.”

“Such eloquent talk, giant,” the Smoke Mage replied dryly. “But if that is all I need to do, then it will be my pleasure.”

The Mage raised his hands and a black mist burst from his palms. Farris barely had time to take a breath before the force of it hit him straight in the chest and sent him flying back several dozen feet to crash against a bookcase. He fell to the floor and did not get up.

“FARRIS!” Nenani screamed. Jae’s arm wrapped around her shoulder when she made to run to her guardian.

“ENOUGH!” Maevis sent two blue orbs back at the Mage who leaped away from the wall just as the blue light struck where he had once been. Parchment and the shredded remains of several books rained down upon them. The Mage clung to wall like a bat and raised his palm towards Maevis to release another powerful burst of black mist. It struck the magician in the shoulder and sent him flying to the floor. He was dazed, but not knocked out, groaning against the pain and struggling to get back to his feet.

“NO!” Nenani yelled and then looked around to see where the Mage had gone, but his movements had been so fast…

“NENANI!” Jae yelled and pushed her away from him just as the Smoke Mage’s sword came down between them. Nenani fell hard on her hip and look up just in time to see the black figure standing above her, his hand reaching out for her. Then movement as Jae was there behind him, his own sword raised above his head to strike at the Mage and Nenani recognized the sword immediately.

...it was her father’s sword.

The skull tilted and Jae brought the blade down, but in a flash the Mage was turned towards Jae, his own black blade parrying the boy’s downward thrust. Jae looked startled at the figure’s incredible speed and that was all the time the Mage needed. He kicked Jae in the chest and the boy fell back hard. Jae laid there dazed for a few moments, but he got back onto his feet, wobbling and breathing hard.

“You’re annoying,” the Mage growled and turned his hand towards Jae as though to send a shot of black mist at him as well.

“NENANI, DUCK!” Maevis shouted and she had just enough time to pull her head down before another blue orb shot towards the Mage and this time it hit true and the Mage was sent hurling across the room. Jae went to Nenani and helped her up.

“RUN!” Maevis told them, pointing to the open window. “GO! GET TO THE KING’S KEEP!”

“Com on,” Jae said, pulling her along with him and in his other hand he still held the sword. “We need to move!”

“But Farris!” she protested, sending back an anxious glance to where the spice master lay prone on the ground. His head was bleeding, but she could see his chest falling and rising.

“We have to go!” Jae told her and even as she allowed herself to be pulled and ushered to the window, she did not take her eyes off of the prone form of her guardian.

#DUMPLING #g/t #Giant/tiny #g/t fantasy story #humans #giants #Vhasshal #Maevis #Farris #Jae #Barnaby #Nenani #smoke mage #angst #adventure #g/t writing

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gluestickcherrybum · 4 years

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Happy Earth Day peeps! ヾ(@°▽°@)ノ

I haven’t written in a while but I wanted to write something for this occasion, and more posts about environmentalism since its something i’m quite passionate about. Coronavirus is pretty much all anyone’s talking about lately. And as a result , our entire way of living has been adjusted due to the outbreak: Staying indoors, washing our hands, and social distancing has become the new normal.

But just because we’re experiencing difficult times doesn’t mean we should lose sight of the bigger picture which is caring for the earth.

Thinking about sustainability is even more important now because it connects us to the world at a time we’re told to quarantine ourselves. We’re told now more than ever to purchase single-use hand sanitizers, face masks, gloves, and other products.

Unfortunately, these items will likely end up in landfills, or worse - the environment. Already, face masks are polluting the shores of Hong Kong. Also, people fear reusable items like never before - some businesses flat out refusing reusable mugs, containers and produce bags. While I understand we want to stay healthy, and prevent the spread of the virus, we should still make a conscious effort to think about how our decisions effect the Earth too. So, with this in mind, here’s how to stay zero waste during the coronavirus outbreak.

Why should we care about zero waste right now?

Sustainability probably isn’t on the forefront of anyone’s mind right now, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t still care or talk about it. As I mentioned earlier, thinking about sustainability helps us connect to the world in a time we’re told to bunker down and stay inside. It helps us appreciate things and maybe view the world a little differently. And, as scary and disheartening as all of this is - there is some good news too.

For example, there have been several reports of clearer waters in Venice where fish are now visible. Air pollution has dropped significantly in Italy due to the fact that fewer fossil fuels are being burned from people staying indoors. Even New York, Los Angels, Chicago, Seattle and Atlanta have reported significant drops in air pollution.

I’m well aware these positive changes come at a cost - so they’re bittersweet, at most. However, they can’t be ignored. It would be fantastic if, after the emergency is over, we could remember the beauty we’ve seen reappear in the world and do our best to preserve it.

There’s of course negative news as well, single-use items are being disposed on the daily and ending up littering up our community. Worst part is, these gloves and masks are not biodegradable or good for the environment - they’re made with petroleum. They’re also a health hazard because you can’t exactly pick these items up without worrying you’ll catch something.

That’s why it’s so important to think about sustainability right now. And zero waste does figure into all of that. By remaining zero waste during this time, we’re acting on our commitment to bettering the planet as a whole.

How can I stay zero waste during the coronavirus outbreak?

Thankfully, there are several ways to make an impact during this time. All hope is far from lost.

Make the most of your food by reducing food waste

In this hard time, the food we eat should be cherished. With so many people struggling to put meals on the table due to job loss, we need to make our food last us. One way we can do this is by cooking with leftovers. For example, if you have some leftover rice and vegetables - make fried rice. Or turn boiled potatoes into mash.You can also get creative and make vegetable stock out of food scraps, turn mushy berries into jam, pickle some fruit. Or getting into some good old composting.

Invest in reusable masks and gloves

During this time, you’ll likely see a ton of people walking around with face masks and gloves on. Most of them are single use too. As I mentioned earlier, lots of face masks and gloves are being littered right now.

It’s bad enough these items are single use only, they should be disposed of properly. Face masks have already started to wash up on the shores of Hong Kong in addition to other ocean polluters. Yikes.

Cloth masks havent been proven to be as efficient as clinical face masks in filtering the air, but for those who are sick and would like to prevent infection to others, the cotton does aid in catching water droplets from coughing and such. Just make sure to wash them regularly.

Instead of plastic gloves, consider using those reusable rubber gloves that people use to wash dishes sometimes. You can wash them with soap or even boil them to disinfect.

Decluttering

If you haven’t yet read Marie Kondo’s book “The Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up”, now’s a good time to get inspired. Time to go through all of your items and find the items that truly “spark joy” and be rid of the rest. Unfortunately during this time, you can’t exactly donate items to thrift shops. More than likely, thrift shops will be closed. However, you can at least set items aside to be donated once all of this is over. If you’re not comfortable waiting that long, you can always try selling it online like on Depop or Carousel.

That said, don’t be afraid to throw certain things out. I know that may seem kind of counterproductive, as I’m advising you to stay zero waste during this crisis.However, I’m fully aware there are some items we hold onto as zero wasters because we hope to keep them out of the landfill as long as possible. Items that are hard to recycle, or we don’t know how to recycle; items we believe we can fix but never get around to fixing; items simply destined for landfill one way or the other.

I know it hurts to let these items go, but you have to. It’s good for your mental health, and for the sake of your home. Remember: There is no such thing as being fully zero waste. We can get very close, but the truth is, our economy is a linear one. And every living creature creates waste of some sort. Now, this doesn’t mean I want you throwing out perfectly good items. Try to find items homes first! See if your friends or family want items you don’t first. Then, if not, seek to donate or sell. But obviously things like clothing tags and junk mail must go.

Invest in reusable period products

At this moment of crisis, with everyone panic buying basic necessities, menstrual pads and tampons are starting to get scarce so much so, you might have a hard time finding those items these days . This might be a good time to try out some sustainable alternatives. Women spend an enormous price in period products throughout their lifetime, so investing in reusables not only keeps a phenomenal amount of waste from landfills, but also saves the time going to the store and a whole lot of money.

Personally i use a menstrual cup (which i might write a whole post about it later), but for the less adventurous there are a good few other choices like reusable cloth pads and period panties (which sounded like a miracle when i first heard about them, but i haven’t seemed to be able to find any sold locally for now)

Heck, invest in reusable anything…

Its not just pads and tampons with reusable counterparts, if you want to get a little advanced in zero waste, try swapping out any disposable items possible, like stainless steel safety razors for plastic ones (ask your granddad), the infamous metal straw for plastic straws, or even things as simple as bar soap for bottled body soap.

Shop for food without the waste

During this time, please only stock up on what you need. You don’t have to hoard food - there’s plenty to go around. There’s more than enough food for everyone. Just take what you need and leave some for others.

To continue shopping sustainably, you can bring your own reusable shopping bags or produce bags (or you can diy some from old pillow cases)

I understand not everyone will be able to shop in bulk during this time for dry goods. So, you should shop as if you have no bulk food options. This means opting for items packaged in paper, cardboard, glass and aluminum.

If you must get something packaged in plastic, get the biggest container you can afford. Smaller plastics especially cling film are harder to or even impossible to recycle. Less than 9% of plastic is actually recycled so the less we consume, the less will likely end up in the landfill or oceans.

And thats all for today’s post, im sorry if its posted a bit later on Earth day than expected. I hope everyone is safe and healthy during these hard times. And if youre a student, i hope the online classes arent as bad as people say (im conveniently on a special leave of absence this semester (see my last post) so i have no idea how its going down) and if youre interested in more tips and tricks in being zero waste, feel free to hit me up and maybe ill write more posts like these. Thanks for reading ヽ(*・ω・)ﾉ

#zero waste #zero waste lifestyle #gluestickcherrybum #studyblr #earth day #happy earth day #quarantine #coronavirus #covid-19 #outbreak #environmentalism

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scatterpatter · 4 years

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An Alicorn(get it? get it???) fic because im self indulgent

I just wanted to write about Corren and @jazznet‘s Alistair(GET IT? ALISTAIR AND CORREN- ALI COR-N? pls laugh im beg) bonding and stuff, so like... I did. I lov them a lot so have nearly 4k words of them snarking at each other

Word Count: 3,853

Content warnings: swearing, off-screen character with unnamed severe illness, implied toxic familial situation, mentions of death

“Ah, well, can’t say this is the deadliest situation I’ve been in!”

“Speak for yourself, dipshit!” Corren yelled, tugging Alistair’s wrist harder as they weaved through the trees of the forest, nearly tripping over thick tree roots and dense shrubbery “Is it still tailing us?!”

Alistair glanced behind them for only a moment, and lo and behold, there was a massive dragon flying just above the treetops, eyes fixed on the two F.U.C.K.s “… You got any teleporting spells left?”

“You think I wouldn’t have cast one if I did?!” The Marelienth yelled, panic spiked way too much to bother acting nice. If he had any 4th-level spell slots left, he could easily teleport the both of them a good 800 feet away from the situation, but of course he wasted them all earlier in the fight.

“Well, at least we know everyone else is safe!” Alistair chirped, sarcasm in his tone to combat the adrenaline as they both ran for their lives.

“Yeah, good for them, let’s maybe not get killed ourselves before we celebrate!” He tugged on the human’s wrist to get them going once more. Maybe if he could get under enough tree cover, they could get out of sight and the dragon won’t notice them… Corren cast a brief look over his shoulder-

Oh.

Oh no.

The dragon was still right behind them, only rather than just chasing them down, they began to suck in the energy around them, a bright fireball forming in its mouth as it prepared a breath attack.

Oh, fuck.

His gaze quickly fell to Alistair, sizing up his wounds. Normally their leader had enough health to survive some of the heavier hits, but he was already looking roughed up from before. Oh no… he might not instantly get killed if hit, but he’ll definitely get knocked out, and leaving him half-dead with a dragon probably won’t end well.

Corren, though, knew he himself was going to die instantly if hit. And death doesn’t sound very good right now. He’ll take a hard pass. But without the ability to teleport…

Wait. He didn’t waste all of his lower-level magic yet. Maybe he could…

Oh, fuck it.

With a quick wave of his hand, he summoned a rope that seemed to come down from a blank space in the sky, almost as if leading up into nothing, and ending about 10 feet above them. He gave it a quick test tug before handing it to Alistair. “Climb.”

“What is-”

“NO TIME, JUST CLIMB.” He barked, nearly shoving the human to climb the rope, satisfied once he did so and quickly following suit, the heat of flames brushing by his ankles as they both disappeared from the area.

… Corren allowed himself to breathe as he climbed up and fully into the small wooden structure he made, quickly shutting the small trap door he came in through. “That… was way too close for comfort.”

“Uh.” Alistair still seemed panicked, though Corren took ease knowing he was safe in this space. “What-?!”

“Chillax, it’s a spell I know.” He waved a dismissive hand, taking a seat against the nearest wall to rest. With the adrenaline finally passing, all he felt was exhaustion overtaking. “It’s called ‘rope trick’. We can camp out here for a while, and hopefully when we leave again, the dragon won’t be there anymore.”

“I… oh.” Alistair blinked, his own panic seeming to now die down in their temporary safety. Alistair was a pretty competent spellcaster, so Corren knew he wouldn’t have to explain too much detail for his leader to get the gist of what he was doing.

The human looked around, fully absorbing their surroundings now that he had the time to do so. They were in a small wooden room, the “trap door” being the only exit. Two windows lined the walls, looking out into an expanse of forest. Though, unlike the warm, deciduous forest they were fleeing in moments ago, this forest seemed to be made of pine and mountainous trees, air much cooler and less humid than where they were before. Small bookshelves and chairs made most of the furniture in the room, little drawings and maps tacked to the walls, it was almost like… “Are- Are we in a treehouse?”

“Mhm! … Well, technically no.” Corren pulled a book from one of the shelves, absentmindedly flipping through its pages as he explained “We’re in a demiplane right now. We can’t leave this room, except to exit back to where we came from, so don’t bother trying to climb out a window.” He snorted a bit, remembering the time he attempted to, only to be smacked in the face by the planar equivalent of a brick wall. “I can choose how this looks, though, so I wanted it to look like this.”

Alistair cocked an eyebrow, amusement flashing over his expression beneath the shock “… You do not strike me as the treehouse type.”

“I’m not! Well, not anymore, I guess.” He shrugged, trying to wave off the embarrassed blush he felt creeping on his face at opening up about his… I guess this would be his more vulnerable side. “I uh… I had one just like this when I was a kid. It’s... I don’t know.” He cast a look down to the book in his hands, smiling fondly as he caressed his fingers over the page “It’s kind of comforting, I guess.”

Alistair stood there a minute, seeming to almost study the situation… then walked over, sitting by the Marelienth’s side. “Well, guess we have some time to kill. Got anything good in there?” He grinned, motioning to the bookshelf nearest to them.

Corren laughed a bit- surprised that he caught himself laughing, actually- and set his own book aside “I wouldn’t pick from that shelf, actually. It’s more children’s books than anything than else.”

Alistair smirked “Weren’t you just reading one from that shelf?”

“I was flipping through it for the nostalgia, dipshit.” Corren glared… though they both knew that his annoyance was completely surface level. He quickly rolled his eyes, standing up stepping over to another shelf to browse through the books he stored there. “Hang on, I’ll find something.”

What would Alistair’s tastes be? … He’d probably be more like Julian than Mila, so he’ll browse Julian’s old books. He clicked his tongue, running a finger over each book’s spine, scanning their titles. Would Al be a fiction or a non-fiction type…? … Hm. He paused on one book, hesitant for a moment, but decided it might be an interesting read for the Weathervane.

Alistair blinked in surprise when the book was dropped on his lap, taking it in his hands and reading the title out of curiosity “’History of Spellcasting in Marelienth Society’?”

Corren shrugged. “I don’t know, I thought you might find it interesting, since you’re magical, but it’s also something you probably don’t already know.”

Alistair hummed in response, flipping through a few pages to get a sense of what he was reading. “… Could use more pictures.”

“Oh my gods.” Corren pinched the bridge of his nose “I should have let you pick from the children’s shelf.”

They both laughed as Corren sat by his side once more, unable to help the smug grin as he saw Alistair’s attention quickly shift back to the book, finding a section and quickly latching onto it. He watched the human’s eye scan the page with fervor, absorbing whatever he could in the limited time they had.

Corren couldn’t help the way his smile went from smug to something softer. The way Alistair acted, how he was so passionate about all he did and all he was interested in, the way he loved what he did so effortlessly… Despite any fears and anxieties that weighed him down, he always found a way to trudge forward. It was all-to-familiar to Corren, though it was something he hadn’t witnessed in years. It was… almost uncanny how much Alistair reminded him of…

“Julian!!!” Corren yelled, slamming the door to their treehouse open and giving an angry gasp at the Marelienth inside. “I knew you were in here still!”

The older Marelienth gave a small wave, but didn’t pry his eyes away from his book “Just give me five minutes, I’m almost done this chapter!”

“You said the same thing half an hour ago!!!”

“… I started a new chapter since then.”

Corren groaned loudly, fully climbing into the treehouse and crawling over to his older brother, flopping against his side dramatically “I’m boooooored!!!”

Julian just laughed, finally defeated by the child’s antics, and set his book aside, using just one arm to scoop Corren up as he got to his feet. Julian was still somewhat young, not fully grown into adulthood yet, but still stood a good 6 feet tall. Corren, on the other hand, was still a child, and was very small compared to his brother. “Alright, alright, you drama queen. I need to pick up supplies for tomorrow’s run anyways, so you can come along.”

Corren didn’t seem to mind being carried one-handedly, just swaying his legs happily “Yay~!”

The two brothers left their treehouse, walking past their home and onto the streets of their town of Warrencrest. The forest surrounding their town left a scent of pine in the air, accompanied by a hint of frost to signify the changing of the seasons. Corren was set down at this point, and settled for keeping up a quick pace to match Julian’s longer strides. He held onto his brother’s hand, though, which made sure he didn’t get left behind or lost by chasing some distraction.

With his brother leading them along, Corren let his eyes wander over their town as they walked through it. Warrencrest was a mostly Marelienth-occupied town, and it was pretty rare to see other races around their home. Everyone seemed to keep to themselves, always focused on studying time and magic and all sorts of other things that Corren ‘wasn’t mature enough to understand yet’. He felt like he was living in a bubble sometimes- it was like his siblings were the only ones who wanted to talk to him… about anything other than academics, at least. Though, that really only bothered him so much. I mean, he had 2 best friends, and he just happened to be related to them! It only sucked when they would go on short quests for some extra gold and Corren had to stay home and wait for them to come back.

Speaking of quests… “What’s the job you’re doing this time?”

“Hm? Oh, uh, let me check.” Julian used a free hand to reach into his pocket, pulling a sheet of paper out and unfolding it. It was a help wanted ad, easy to find on job boards outside of stores or taverns. He read over the terms, eyes scanning the details before he sighed and shoved the job offer back in his pockets “Just a delivery run. Apparently the passage to get to this other town is pretty rough on the terrain, and the Client’s getting up there in years, so he figured it’d be a safer bet to pay someone else to do it.”

Corren pouted, disappointed at the terms “Awww, no fighting a big scary monster or anything?”

Julian snorted, caught off-guard by the sheer absurd innocence of such a question “No, no scary monsters. Sorry to be the one to break it to you, little buddy, but questing isn’t always this grand adventure. Sometimes it’s boring, but at least you get paid… like a job!”

“Ew.” The younger Marelienth stuck his tongue out. Adventuring being boring like a job??? Gross. Though that could probably mean… Corren suddenly perked up “Oh! So if it’s not dangerous, can I come with you?”

“Uh, I don’t know…” Julian sighed, scratching his cheek “Like I said: it’s rough terrain. The last thing I’d want is for you to trip and fall down a cliff and become a Corren-Pancake.” Despite the lighthearted joking, he cringed a bit “Uh, yeah, Dad would definitely kill me if I brought you home as a skeleton instead of a Marelienth. Besides, I’ll need you to stay home and take care of our big sis while I’m gone!”

Corren frowned, tilting his head a little “She’s not going with you either?”

“Uh… no.” The lighthearted air he had around him before quickly dissipated, and he squeezed Corren’s hand a little bit “Mila’s still sick, so I don’t think she’ll be able to go questing for a while…”

How sick was she? Usually whenever Corren got sick, he’d be fine after just a couple of days, but Mila’s been stuck at home for nearly 2 weeks now! “… She’s gonna get better, right?”

Julian hesitated, only for a moment, but if Corren were older he would’ve known exactly what that hesitation meant. Instead, he was met with a reassuring smile and a pat to the head “Of course she’s gonna get better. This is our big sis we’re talking about, it takes more than just a little cold to knock a Hartwell down!”

Corren just giggled, content with the answer he got “Yeah, you’re right, but I’m gonna be the best protector until then! I know magics now!”

“That so?” Julian quickly let the lighthearted air roll back in, grateful for his brother’s naivety. “Well, show me something, then!”

Corren just grinned, letting go of his hand to run over to the side of the street, picking up a small rock and trotting back over to him. With a small wave of his hand, the rock suddenly became illuminated, giving off light like a torch.

“That’s ‘Light’, isn’t it?” Julian smiled, impressed by that small spell he was able to cast “Well look at you, learning neat Cantrips! Next thing you know, you’re gonna be the most powerful spellcaster in all of Sekrezia!”

“You know it!” Corren ate up the praise, dropping the rock and putting his hands on his hips in a prideful pose before going back to walking by Julian’s side “You know, I’m gonna be a great adventurer one day.”

“Is that so?” He suddenly grabbed Corren, hoisting him up and over his head in order to perch him on his shoulders and carry the smaller Marelienth that way “You’re going to be a hero and explore the world?”

“Yeah!!!” Corren grinned, not even blinking to the idea of riding on Julian’s shoulders. It made him feel tall! “I’m gonna team up with a bunch of other cool adventurers, and we’re going to save the world from all sorts of eeeevil monsters! And I’ll be super cool and know all sorts of neat spells!” He pushed his glasses back into place after they slipped down his nose a bit “I’ll go down in legends, and everyone’s going to think I’m super cool! ‘Corren Hartwell, the bestest adventurer of all time’!”

“’Bestest’?” Julian parroted, unable to keep in a small fit of laughter at just how pure that was “Alright, well when you’re rich and famous, can I get some of the gold you earn?”

He huffed, bapping his brother on the forehead “No way, stink-face, that’s my hard-earned gold, you can make your own!”

“Alright, alright, can’t blame your poor feeble brother for trying.” He joked, rolling his eyes fondly as they made it to their town’s main market square. “… You’ve got that spark, Corr. I feel like if you really worked at it, you could be a really cool mage. … Almost as cool as me.”

“Almost?!” He squeaked, pouting at the way his brother got such a laugh out of that.

Well, he hasn’t exactly saved the world or gone down in legends, but…

“Corren?” Alistair snapped his fingers in front of the Marelienth to catch his attention, snapping Corren out of his daze “Hey, you still with me?”

“Huh?” He blinked once or twice, pulling himself back to present day to focus his attention on the human “What’s up?”

“It looked like you were spacing out on me, you good?”

“Oh. Yeah, I’m okay.” He scratched the back of his head sheepishly, not realizing just how long he was getting lost in old memories for. “Sorry, just reminiscing.”

Alistair nodded, going back to his book for a few moments… then cast a gaze back at Corren. “Why’d you leave?”

Corren went stiff, not expecting such a personal question out of the blue like that. “… What do you mean?”

He cast a look around the room again, noting all of the makeshift maps of nearby areas and crude drawings that lined the walls “It just… seems like you had a pretty good childhood. And this definitely isn’t anywhere near Lilenthemar. So why’d you leave?”

Ah. Corren knew he’d have this conversation sooner or later, but he still didn’t know how to talk about… everything that happened. How could you put what happened into words? He knows that if he’s to stay with the group, he’ll probably have to come clean about everything sooner or later, but… well, he’ll put off that conversation as long as he can. “… You’re right, I did have a pretty good childhood. Things were never perfect, but… I was happy.”

Corren ran a hand along the wood that made the walls. The actual treehouse he grew up in was long gone; wood rotted and the tree toppled, but in this demiplane, it was like his old hangout was preserved in time. … If anything, that only upset him more, knowing that everything around him was just a projection of what used to be, a childhood and innocence he could never get back. “… I’m sure you’d know this better than I ever would, but good things… have a tendency not to last.” He took a deep breath, swallowing his fears and letting himself open the fuck up for once. “After some things went wrong, I wasn’t happy here anymore… and after some more things went wrong, I didn’t even feel safe here. So, I left. I wasn’t even planning on staying in Lilenthemar, but I just so happened to meet Jethro and… well. You can’t exactly say no to a job offer from a man like him.”

Alistair snorted, fond memories of how they met Corren through their shared connection with Jericho’s father… and how they practically broke the poor Marelienth with their shenanigans. That fondness quickly faded, though, in favor of the sympathetic frown he cast to his teammate “… I’m sorry, about everything that happened. You didn’t deserve to feel unsafe in your own home.”

“Yeah…” Corren sighed, folding his arms and avoiding eye contact like the plague. He still wasn’t used to weird and intimate moments like this. “You’re right, I didn’t deserve that, but… hey, sometimes bad things just… happen. And I mean… I’m not really that sorry about it.”

“You’re not?”

The Marelienth shook his head “I mean, it sucked, don’t get me wrong about that, but. If I never ran away, I never would’ve met Jethro or Raerose. And if I never worked for Jethro, I never would’ve met- or eventually teamed up with- all of you, so…” He shrugged, a small smile tugging at his expression “I’d say it wasn’t all bad.”

Alistair just returned the smile, giving Corren a light punch on the arm “So you do love us and our antics~”

He rolled his eyes, grateful to have the tense and vulnerable moment passing for their usual snark “Oh live it up, weather boy. Just be grateful I keep sending your love messages to your boyfriend free of charge.”

“We love you too, Corren.”

He snorted, punching the human back “That’s it, I’ve had enough of your bullshit feelsy mush. That dragon’s probably gone by now, and we should regroup with the rest of the F.U.C.K.s.”

“Aw, can’t we wait just five more minutes?” Alistair pouted, motioning to the book he was given earlier “I’m almost done this chapter!”

Corren blinked incredulously, not believing his ears for a minute. He really just… “Holy shit. You are the same goddamn person.”

That caught Alistair off guard as he suddenly looked at Corren like he had two heads “… Who’s the same?”

“Uh-” He shook his head, embarrassed that he actually said that out loud “Nothing, don’t worry about it.” … Maybe a quick subject change would help, “Well, we could stay here a while longer… but the group might start thinking we’re dead. I mean, unless you want Lautrek to be appointed the new leader in your absence…”

Alistair quickly shut the book, panic setting on his expression “Uh, you know what? Maybe we should head back now. Don’t want to scare the others, haha!”

Corren just smirked. It was too easy sometimes. He opened the door back to the Material Plane, letting Alistair exit before Corren followed suit.

They landed right where they left, only the forest around them was charred completely, some branches and trunks still in flames from the fiery breath attack they barely avoided. The good news, though, was that the dragon was nowhere in sight, so they were safe for the time being.

“Wow.” Alistair remarked, scuffing his boot along the dead grass beneath them “We totally would’ve died if we got hit by that.”

“Oh yes.” Corren nodded in agreement, stretching his back lazily “I would’ve died in an instant, but you? Probably would’ve been a long, agonizing death. You would’ve wished you had low health like me. Like your blood would start to-”

“Ooookay kid, I know you’re a little bit Necromancer, but I need you to dial it down on going into detail over how I would burn to death.” Alistair patted Corren on the back, putting just enough force behind his hits for the Marelienth to get the not-so-passive aggressive message… But then a swift look of fear fell over his expression “Uh, Corren?”

“Yeah?”

“So that dragon was chasing us, so we knew our teammates would be safe?”

“Uh… yes?” He raised an eyebrow, unsure of where Alistair was going with this.

“And if we chose to hide so the dragon would eventually leave…”

Oh no. Corren was starting to get an idea where he was going with this.

“… What’s to say that Dragon didn’t go back to attacking everyone else after we disappeared?” Alistair slowly turned to share that look of horrified realization with the other.

… Oh, fuck.

“I don’t think we thought this through.” Alistair quickly readied his Halberd, looking back to where they came from.

“Thought this through?! I saved our lives!” Corren huffed, pulling out the sniper that was strapped to his back. “Guess we gotta save a few more, greeaat!”

Alistair smirked a little, pulling a health potion from his pocket and quickly chugging it down. “So, starting to regret crossing paths and joining us yet~?”

He scoffed, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face “Aw, cute. Don’t think you’re getting rid of me that easily, Stormcrown.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Hartwell.”

#my fics #corren #alistair #julian #listen its a fluff-fest. sue me.#just lET MY BOYS BE HAPPY

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lostinyourparadise98 · 5 years

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Kiss Me

A/N: Hello my loves! Im so sorry that this is so shitty, it is currently 12:00 Am and my brain is melting as I write this, but I hope all of you enjoy hehe. Just a reminder that requests are open so please take advantage!!! Love y'all (:

The faint sound of snoring interrupts my sleep as squint my eyes, attempting to shield them from the light that is streaming through the curtains. Im unable to move, the weight of a six foot tall, curly headed boy keeps me trapped beneath the sheets. Shawn is sprawled out on top of me. His face is hidden in the crook of my neck, his breath tickling the exposed skin. His strong arms wrap around my waist making it impossible for me to move. I can't help but to reach my arm up and run my fingers through his curly hair. He looks so peaceful, I don't understand how someone can look so irresistible just by sleeping.

I feel a sudden pain in my chest as I realize this is our last day together before he goes back on tour. Don't get me wrong, I am so unbelievably proud of him. He is living his dream, workings ass off to keep his success but sometimes I just want him to myself. He is going to be gone for sixth months and I have no idea how my heart is going to handle it.

I wiggle out of his grasp, earning an irritated moan from his lips. He is now fully on his back, his eyes still closed as he tries to return to his comfortable position. I crawl on top of him, both of my legs on either side of his thighs. A big grin spills across my face as the sheets fall off of me, revealing my naked body. The events from last night replay in my head and I can't help but giggle from the butterflies and tingles that jolt through my bones.

I lean down and place soft kisses all over his face. I start on the right side of his cheek and move to the left, I kiss his forehead and move my way down to his chin and end with the tip of his nose. He doesn't budge for awhile, so I take matters into my own hands and go faster till I earn a reaction. He groans again but this time there is a smirk on his face.

“Wake. Up. Baby. Wake. up.wake. up.” I say between each kiss. I’m caught off guard as his arms wrap around my waist. He quickly sits up and pulls me back down on the bed till he is hovering over me. I can't stop the fits of giggles that erupt from within me.

“You know you could have gotten me a lot up faster if you had started with my lips.” His voice is deep and croaky, his eyes puffy and red. I chuckle at the wildness of his hair, my god he is beautiful.

“I think I kissed you enough last night, I wanted to switch things up a bit.”

He slowly leans down and presses his lips to mine. The kiss starts off slow and innocent. His arms pull me closer into him as he depends the kiss. Our tongues fight for dominance, I can't help the moan that falls from my mouth. My hands find the nape of his neck as I lightly tug at his hair, an action I know drives him crazy. The effect he has on me will be something I will never understand. I arch my back of the bed trying to get closer to him if thats even possible. We both tilt our heads, getting completely lost in each other. He pulls away first, resting his forehead against mine.

“You could never give me too many kisses, there will never be enough to completely satisfy me I'm always left wanting more.” His morning voice has me completely weak and he knows it.

“Well you better kiss me as much as possible, after today you will have to wait six months before I can shower you again.” He pulls away from me, resting his head on his elbow so he can look down at me as I turn to face him

“hey, we are going to be okay we’ve done this before.”

“That doesn't make it any easier.” He begins to run his fingers through my hair.

“I know baby, I know.” He leans down and places a sweet kiss on my forehead

I feel my eyes begin to water, I try my best to push back the tears but the thought of him not being here in a few short hours is unbearable.

“Shawn, I don't think I can handle saying goodbye to you again.” I intertwine our fingers.

“Baby, don't think of it as a goodbye, think of it as a ill see you soon. There are no goodbyes between us. I know this hurts and I am going to miss you like hell. But I promise you I will always be here. Just call me I don't care what time it is, if you’re ever missing me just call me.”

“I love you so much.”

“I love you more.” I begin to push myself out of bed, but his hand stops me.

“Where are you going?” His bottom lip is pushed out like a child. I pull away from his hand and reach for his shirt that I tore off of him last night. I can feel my cheeks redden from the memory, as I slip it on. I hope to god he doesn't notice.

“I have to go shower, ill be quick I promise.”

“Or.....” He pauses

“Hear me out, we take a shower together.”

“Nice try Mendes, we both know what will end up happening if we shower together.”

“I promise I won't try anything, ill keep my hands to myself.” I raise my brow at him

“Okay, maybe not fully to myself but you get the picture.”

“Alright, but only because you are leaving.” He jumps out of bed and runs towards the bathroom. I roll my eyes as I gather my new shampoo and favorite bottle of body wash. Shawn stands at the shower with his hand under the water making sure the temperature is perfect. I quickly brush my teeth and slip out of shawns t-shirt.

“Ladies first.” Shawn pulls the curtain back and swiftly moves his hand to the direction of the shower.

“You're suck a dork.” I chuckle as I move passed him and into the tub. The warmth of the water feels amazing against my skin. I let the water spill down my hair as Shawn gets in. I feel him reach behind me as he enters. He moves the shower head higher so the water can actually reach his head. The boy is a tree I swear.

“Sorry shorty I gotta move this.”

“Don't call me shorty its not my fault you're a giant.” I watch as he repeats the same actions as me

Can I wash your hair?” The words crawl faster out of my mouth than I expected.

“Only if you let me do yours too.”

“Deal.” I squirt Shawn’s shampoo in my hand and turn to face him. Wow, this height difference is really hitting me right now. I can't even reach his head to wash his hair.

“Uhh baby do you think you could kneel?” He throws his head back as his laughter fills the bathroom

“Oh my God you are so cute.”

“Stop making fun of me I can't reach.”

“Ill kneel for you, you always kneel for me.” he winks and I quickly slap his arm

He kneels down in front of me, his hands firmly on my hips to keep his balance.

He closes his eyes in pleasure as I massage his scalp, his hair is nice and soapy and I waist no time playing with the curls on top of his head.

“Does that feel good Bub?”

“mmmhmmm.” he hums, I rinse his hair placing one hand over his eyes so he doesn't get burned by the soap. I repeat the same actions with the conditioner. This boy is in pure bliss. He stands to his feet.

“Your turn.” To say that his hands were made for this is in understatement. He laughs at my moans I ignore him getting lost in the pleasure that is coursing through my scalp. We both finish up and dry ourselves off.

Shawn makes his way into the bedroom putting on a pair of boxes and hopping back into bed. I take a little longer washing my face, brushing my hair, and fixing up my eyebrows.

“Babe do you mind if I use your speaker to put on some music?” he calls from the bedroom

“Go ahead Bub.” I begin to straighten up the mess I made in the bathroom until I hear the song he chose. Kiss me, by Ed Sheeran. My heart skips a beat as I think of the first time he kissed me, this song was playing in the background.

I walk out of the bathroom and lean against the door frame. Shawn sits on the bed smiling like he fool. He slowly rises and makes his way into the middle of the room. He stops and opens his arms.

“Dance with me?” STOP BEING SO CUTE

My feet move before I can even think. I walked s towards him and he wraps me in his arms. I rest my head against his chest as he sway back and forth to the music.

“You should wear my shirts more often by the way.”

“I will be,I'm stealing most of them. Oh and your Harvard hoodie, yeah you're never getting that back.”

“Thats my favorite one.”

“It smells like you.”

“You can keep it while I'm away baby, I don't mind.”

“I don't want you to leave.”

“I don't want to leave you.” I rest my forehead against his

“What do we do when the music stops?” I whisper

“When I'm wiht you, the music never stops.”

“Kiss me.”

“Always.”

The End

HEEEYY YALLL sorry this was TRASH. It is now 1:21 Am and I am dead ahahahahaha. sorry I'm acting like a crack head and I'm sorry for all the grammatical errors. My brain is dead right now. I promise I will post tomorrow. Hopefully I won't be as tired.But yeah gn and love ya.

#ShawnMendes #Shawn Mendes #Shawnmendesimagines #Shawn Mendes imagines #Shawnmendesfluff #Shawn Mendes fluff #Shawn Mendes Fanfiction #Shawn Mendes x reader #Shawnmendesxreader #fallingallinyou #kiss me #writing #in my blood #imagines

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gg-astrology · 5 years

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How would a retrograde Mars in libra show itself? Its in my 6th house conjunct the descendant. I love the libra💕🍃⚖️ but i get confused about putting all these things together and how they add up. Oh its also opp my jupiter and trine my moon but its oke if you only answer the retr mars libraヾ(๑╹◡╹)ﾉ" thank you in advance you’re the best🍋🥥 byeeeeee

Hey there! ❤️ Ooof thank u so much!! ❤️ This will be a little long ;u; I’m touching on the Libra Mars stuff but I hope this helps you out somehow ❤️❤️

🚫long post 🚫

Mars in Libra (rx) ⬇️

Ooooooooh, same as James Charles!! ( And prince William as well kjnkjkjjdnskjnk) – sorry that was the first thing that came to mind!! ;; Libra mars been coming up on my radar a lot lately?? idk why, but there’s been talks on astro twt about libra mars in bad positions as of late ;; – anyways, I hope you’re doing well hhhHH ❤️

Condition of Mars in Libra

Let’s start off with addressing the base-line of things. The condition of Mars in Libra.

I’m sure you might know this already but the planet’s will (what Mars want/why it’s there) and sign’s conditions misalign somewhat, with Libra being the domicile in Venus whilst Mars is more happily aligned with Aries. This makes the planet’s expression stifled/different from achieving it’s goals (it’s just– y know, working with someone you get along with versus someone you may not understand, it’s normal to have those)

It still– y know, go for it and stuff. But understanding that a detriment planet isn’t the same as a domicile/exalted planet makes assuming that everyone’s expression is the same as yours something to look out for.

A lot of the time, we just think we’re a little different. We don’t tend to notice the flags of our behaviors (until it’s too late) –what others are saying/warning us about or being unnerved by – so it’s good to be aware of that and moving forward in adapting healthier mechanism/working to constantly grow as well ❤️

Mars in Libra

Mars in Libra is kinda like – imagine Mars, bad boy trope stomping into an unexpected ball-room ceremony held by Libra. Mars is unexpectedly stifled, trying to ‘fit’ into the Libra’s atmosphere. Mars– completely out of place, bearing with it for Libra’s sake.

All the while being aware of how-to-be-polite and careful around others, all these Libra richies are judging them and their every word (already judging their demeanor). Trying not to show it’s weakness and feeling more and more paranoid/frustrated as time goes on.

With Mars in Libra – the natives learn how to adapt and use the will of the planet under the guise of the sign. So in this case – Mars learn the strategies and counter-attacks as a vehicle for it’s goals. It doesn’t like war, but it learns to use it in order to achieve it’s peace. Learns to assert while being passive, learn to use pleasantries, deception, persuasion and manipulation for an end-result that matters/meaningful to them. It calculate, judges, weighs the consequences and actions and justify it’s means.

Mars in Libra knows it’s not just fighting for itself– but for others involved as well, the consequences of their action or lack of action weighs down on them– sometimes decisions are harder to make, because they ultimately want to be ‘sure’ of the consequences– what each stages/steps entails before making a move on something.

Hallmark Traits

Mars in Libra can ultimately strive for balance– rather than harmony or peace, it can offend or create chaos in order to achieve it’s goals because of this as well (as a result of it’s goal). This desire for balance which is it’s base instinct – can often blindside the Libra Mars into it’s detrimental position and enhance some of it’s negative forward more often too.

Either for the self or for others– they can sometimes strongly negate or look away from situations that they have caused, justifying their own means and methods– whilst trying to fight for the ‘right’ of something without fully negotiating peace or harmony with others because of it (the will of Mars remember) – in the minds of Libra Mars– they would often push the field into being on the verbal or intellectual side rather than anything else. Lure the enemy into their terrain, or make sure there’s an ‘out’ somehow in order to escape if things go south.

Mars in a position of Libra – often negate out-right warfare unless they can win /achieve something out of it. The Libra waits for the enemies to come– and even then, it’s innocent facade helps it push it’s agenda forward whilst knowing it holds the power in the situation (no matter what the other side thinks/knows/is aware of it or not). It doesn’t have to be as ?? whatever this sounds like – it’s just how it works. Procrastination is also a thing with Libra Mars– as they often would rather lie in wait (again, waiting for the terrain to be in their favour) than actually go out, dominate, and lose the war.

Mars in Libra has strategies, and often time it also translates to obsessive quality to it’s creation, product, conditions. Thrust and parries in fencing is not the same as swinging a sword around in battles. Often, they can be their own worst enemies– as they sabotage themselves, by either waiting too long or not knowing how to confront properly before it’s too late.

With a strong need to come out winning– sometimes they act (or lack of action is) to the detriment of themselves. The obsessive need/desire for balance overwhelms their structure, and thus sometimes– confidence wanes and fails. Insecurity arises, and the Libra chooses to look away from it’s problems in order to wait and rationalize– see it’s options and opportunities to come again.

Mars in rx

With Mars in retrograde comes important lessons that we have to look at and solve within ourselves. Our expression of Mar’s will and power – it’s strength, assertiveness and confrontational abilities becomes valuable lessons we should focus on and learn to incorporate (over and over again).

Competitiveness shakes and wanes under the rx– we self-preserve in order to maintain or build up our ‘confidence’. Trying to mask it’s facade. This also makes the use of deception ( ‘im not competitive or confrontational’ ) to compensate/visage, we struggle to bring our natural (healthy) competitiveness back to it’s level (actually acknowledge ways we can be peaceful and direct at the same time)

The rx can sometimes signify karmic challenges we’ll have to go through – with Mars in rx position, we are tasked with learning how to either 1. not throw diplomacy away and go full out war or 2. be so stagnant, gave up, look away from warfare/trying to advance completely as well (would rather remain passive than ‘waste’ resources, lives, energy, time, others)

The latter point may be more natural– remember that it is about winning, but if the motivation/fear is overwhelming or ‘lost’ – then there’s no ‘reason’ for Libra to feel like it should continue fighting.

Inner self-awareness and motivation to it’s strength, as well as direct, goals, ambitions helps the cardinal air sign progresses (to an extent). If looking out for the self means sacrificing others (expectations/reliance on them) or if sacrificing others means saving the self (at what cost) – the two aspects (self - others) misaligning can cause turmoil, as well as stagnancy if it’s not something the Libra can ‘carry’ going forward ( self pressure + people’s pressure pressing down on them)

The Mars in Libra rx can have really stubborn resolutions, which is the majority of why it’s so hard for them to bounce back from things sometimes. When they are uncompromising, attached and obsessed with a certain idea themselves– it’s near impossible for anyone to change their mind/thoughts without enabling their self-destruction further.

The Libra goes back to their old battles, resisting the idea of it being a lost-cause and trying to find resolutions that would satisfy it’s desire for balance, victory and righteousness. Evading and non-confrontational tactics may become more asserted (once they find a motivation/direction) – deflection and defensive may be pulled up more. The Mars in Libra rx – creates a dynamic where ‘strategies’ become the determining factors in how they handle situations. And the desire to have balance/win it.

Mars in Libra has it’s own ways of handling things– and whilst the position itself is detrimental (just like Taurus or Cancer who falls in Mars) – the best way to help the Libra out is to acknowledge, focus and concentrate on the lessons it has to learn.

It’s like this with other retrograde positions as well, being self-aware and re-working the inner self is something that can help see how/why we’re different from others.

I know it probably sounds like I went a little hard on Libra detriments here – but I hope you can see how it’s strength shines through even when we talk about the challenges we’re supposed to look at.

Libra Mars definitely has it’s own character and traits that are very useful, so I hope this answer shows how it manifests and clears up somethings for you!! ❤️

OH and if you want to hear more about Libra Mars rx - Aries Jupiter opposition (in relation to James Charles)-- this astrologer on yt puts it in a pretty straight-forward way, what’s happening right now ❤️❤️

#astrology asks #libra #libra mars #mars in libra #mars #rx #libra mars in rx #mars in rx #mars rx #libra mars rx #anon #asks #long post

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rosieengel · 4 years

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the beauty and the terror

I’ve been contemplating starting a blog for a long time now, but felt paralyzed with terror because I couldn’t find a great opening post topic. This week, the topic found me. I’ve had the draft saved with my finger hovering over the “post now” button for a few days. So, here it goes.

My first post is about my most recent brush with beauty and terror, best encapsulated, I think, in the mystical words of the poet Ranier Maria Rilke:

Let everything happen to you Beauty and terror Just keep going No feeling is final

In one of my favorite books of all time, Awareness, Anthony de Mello ponders and unpacks those non-final, fleeting moments in life - he points to the fact that our cells live and die so often that we have to wonder, who am “I” after all? Was I the same person I was in the past? No. Not physically, at least, but isn’t our “consciousness” also comprised of a neural network made up of cells? So we are also not our feelings or our emotions. As a matter of fact, we have to liberate ourselves from our experiences altogether if we are to be fully present in the here and now, or we become hijacked by the filters that create our reality. This becomes even more interesting when we consider how many of our memories may be false or fabricated. How much of my past did I dream? How much did I experience in consciousness? “Don’t carry over experiences from the past... don’t carry over good experiences from the past either. Learn what it means to experience something fully, then drop it and move on to the next moment, uninfluenced by the previous one.... You’d know what eternal life is, because eternal life is now, in the timeless now.” In this book, de Mello suggests, no demands, that the reader, “Wake up”. Wake up to how we filter reality. Wake up to our excuses. Wake up and be aware.

I’ve always taken this book very seriously, but it became more important to me when I experienced my first pregnancy loss. The week before Christmas 2017, we experienced major emotional and physical whiplash; we were excited about the possibilities of the new life I was growing. We had told our family and friends, and like a lot of mothers-to-be, I was already dreaming about all of the amazing and absolutely terrifying ways our lives would change. I had spent my 20s and most of my 30s focused on my teaching and playing career, my health, and music. It was time to take care of someone else and I was looking forward to a new chapter (that I thought about my life then in terms of chapters is preposterous and that is worth another blog post). But the Universal Creator had different plans for us, as He typically does. At 12 weeks into my pregnancy and three days before Christmas, I had a miscarriage on the other side of the country and felt a tremendous sense of loss and confusion. In the ER, I could only hold tightly to E’s hand and eeck out, “Our little kumquat...” I was really shocked. I felt as if no one understood - I was grateful for the kindness of everyone around me, but at the same time, I felt as if they were too afraid to give me any comfort or love. Now I know that that is no one else’s responsibility but my own.

Much to my surprise (and other women who have lost babies or children probably grok this), many ordinary and mundane things in life became very difficult. Particularly because it was Christmas. I found I couldn’t really think about the future at all. Holiday traditions and cheer seemed trite and fabricated. I fought back breakdowns whenever I was around children of any age. Drops would well up in my eyes whenever anyone started talking about their dreams of getting pregnant or starting families. I sat amidst the glee and celebration screaming inside, “HEY!!! CAN’T YOU SEE THAT I’M STILL HERE AND DONT YOU KNOW WHAT IM FEELING!?!??!?!” I would go to the bathroom bleeding, cramping, and sad as I waited for the miscarriage to finish playing out to its gruesome end. I was ashamed to burden others with my uncomfortable tears. I will never forget how I reached into the toilet to touch, pick up, and say goodbye to what I believe was the last of the tissue that remained.

In the days afterward, I came across what would become a well-loved piece by Brian Andreas:

This is how I came to see that first baby - as an angel who was with me so briefly, but made such a terrific impact on my life. An angel, who most certainly prodded me to “wake up” in a de Mello sense. Immediately upon my return home, I said my goodbye to her and started healing (and it’s still happening). I felt an enormous calling to help and to heal others too; in the process of healing with Craniosacral Therapy (CST), I decided to study it myself and enrolled in massage therapy school. CST helped me to fully experience that pain and grief, down to the mitochondria of my cells, through my fascia, through my very center. When my inner spirit sensed the healing presence of Erin, my therapist, emotions bubbled up through my solar plexus, through my left hip, my ribs, my sternum. They still do, even today. As an additional part of my healing, I dragged myself to talk therapy for a whole year. My counselor recommended EMDR, using vibration and aural cues because I’m a musician. Through this therapy I finally fully experienced some trauma that I had hidden, buried in my tissues. I came to realize and acknowledge that I had not held proper space for myself and my loss. I had been remiss in thinking that life should go according to my plans, that the world owes me certain things, that I have even a tiny bit of control over my path. The worst is that I held so much shame for all of the things I thought I had failed at in my life. I couldn’t live my pop rocks life because I was looking externally for validation that I was worthy in this world - I was looking everywhere but inside my own spirit. I believe this is what also attracted me to academia, a field where accolades, accomplishments, and the correct lines on your vitae become a measure of your life’s work. That was a tough pill to swallow, but I’ve come to terms with that realization. I’m still healing today in other ways and I probably always will be.

This week, I was gifted a second angel. Even though she is gone now, I will always think of her as Eliza Jane. We conceived her without really intending to around New Years in New Orleans. I love walking down Magazine Street toward the Quarter. When we would walk by the hotel, I would admire its historic, embossed vertical sign. I offhandedly told E that I would love to name a hypothetical daughter Eliza Jane. Two weeks later, I would learn that she was already there.

Early miscarriage is very common. Statistically speaking, 1 in 4 confirmed pregnancies end (that they know of). So - why don’t we talk about it? Why do I feel embarrassed and ashamed that I am part of this statistic? The answer explains why this post stayed in draft form for so long.

I drove myself to the ER this week, in pain and bleeding. My midwife suggested that I go if I was concerned and if I wanted a quick answer. The answer was not good, but.... I knew the answer already. I had felt the absence in my body, the little tug at my heart when her life left me. I won’t say that it was easier this time, but I knew what to expect. I knew what the pain would feel like; I would not be taken off-guard by the waves of grief and sadness, the emptiness, and in some ways, the feelings of loneliness and alienation. I was able to hold space for myself this time, to sit in silence, to be in my own home, my own bathroom. I didn’t have to speak to anyone. E was with me and we were together. These two losses have brought us closer together. As I laid in the ultrasound room, unable to see the images that the silent technician kept from my view, I renewed the gratitude in my heart that the Universe brought E and me together. It may sound like a sappy cliche, but this is the only way I can put my love for him into words right now: the threads of grief in our souls are so "bare” when they are left alone, but when weaved together, make us inseparable and stronger than ever before.

When I got home from the hospital, I planted myself in bed to mentally prepare for the night ahead. Our scrappy, stray cat, Tikky, crawled into bed with me. She rarely does that. As I writhed in bed and moaned in pain, she planted herself next to me. Sprawled out against my belly, she stayed. Although I thrashed about, she remained, wide awake and concerned. Even in that moment, I was so present and grateful for her healing energy. She reminded me that the sick and pained don’t have to crawl into the corner, to lick their wounds alone. The strongest survive with the help and love of others. She sent me light in her own way, without saying anything at all. This is one of the many things I have learned from cats.

I’m sharing this story with the hope that it reaches others who have been through a similar experience. To you - you are not alone. Would this be different if I had a stillborn or if I lost an infant? No. Not according to my belief system. After the worst was over, I woke up before dawn to hear a robin trilling outside my window. In my world, nothing is a coincidence.

If you have not had this experience, open your eyes to those around you who are suffering in silence. Wake up. Just as someone communicates joy and celebration with new life and new possibilities, there is also someone who is crying and mourning the loss of a life. There are also those who did not want to create life and decide to end it (or they don’t). This isn’t just confined to miscarriage - there are people struggling around you. You must assume they are doing their best and it is not their responsibility to make you feel happy with your life. If you find yourself riled up or offended because of someone else’s struggle, or what you feel to be their failures or incompetencies, just ask yourself - am I taking this personally? I ask myself that question often - that is part of the process of waking up. It’s the process of leading a more compassionate life. Death surrounds us and it is part of a cycle that is repeating. There’s something comforting to me about the cycles of life. My cycle, that of the earth and moon, and the seasons. Your cells die, they shed, they turn over. It does not happen to us, it is us.

Of course, we should be happy. We should experience bliss and joy and scream it from the mountaintops, all others be damned! But can’t we also show our heartbreak, sadness, grief, and despair? Instead of turning and running from the pain, what if we leaned into the uncomfortable and said something. ANYTHING. Say you’re sorry. Ask if they are okay. Say that you don’t know what to say, but you are here to talk. Be there in silence. Be a shoulder or a hug. Hold space for them in your heart. Reach out. That’s something. Let yourself see the terror and the beauty, because if you don’t, your life will consist only of coincidences and you may miss the angels who are helping you along the way to wake up so that you do not miss your life.

Tikky didn’t leave me to lick my wounds alone. She nestled in and hunkered down right next to the pain. She leaned into it and sat there patiently through my tears and gibberish. Just as I am here to do for you, my friend.

#grief miscarriage pregnancyloss angels

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keep-itto-ourselves · 4 years

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People don’t change, they are who they are”. That’s me quoting myself. Whenever the opportunity would arise to use that sentence, you can bet your bottom dollar that I did. I’m not sure if I should be embarrassed of how ignorant that was or if I should pat myself on the back for recognizing that it was the biggest lie I ever told.

I had a way of blaming people and my past experiences on why I am who I am. Like i was made up of all the people who betrayed,hurt, deceived, left and lied to me. I let My bad experiences chisel at me little by little to form this rough around the edge person that I was never meant to be. All the negative emotions manifested in me and it became a personality trait after a while.. what was happening inside me, was projecting outside.

I didn’t know where happiness came from.

I thought my happiness relied on the outside..Friends, relationships, work, etc..

And if that wasn’t working, change the friends,relationship and job until I found what made me happy. Those outside changes only worked temporarily.

You hear that growth comes from a place of pain and that’s exactly where it started for me. I needed to face my fears head on and go through them and stop going around them. I had Years of pain piled on top of me, I was tired of carrying the weight. So I work my way in. i let go off all my negative emotions that became the foundation of my being. I can’t blame everyone for how I felt. I can’t blame my failed attempts of happiness on another person.. I AM MY REALITY. I no longer am going to let what’s been my reality become my present or my future.

Today I was surprised by *peter* (not gonna use real names here)

A little backstory: I met Peter several years ago. He is extremely intelligent, passionate about his beliefs, handsome and can make me laugh all day long. do not get him started on politics. Probably the first and only person who loves Taking Back Sunday as much as I do. That was a solid common interest for me. When I met peter I was fairly young and hadn’t experienced much of life. I was old enough to know That, what ever was pulling me to him was much stronger than I. I cared deeply for him.

I watched from afar, his struggle with addiction,depression and self destruction. I never knew the true depth but I knew it was there. I knew he was a person covered with pain. I wanted to save him,I could see the good in him..I just couldn’t get through. life did that thing where it moves along and we just got lost in the mix.

fast forward: Peter got sober and did a complete 360. He’s seems to be doing the best he’s ever been. He’s lost over 100 pounds. He actively nourishes his mind. He says not a day goes by that he isn’t self improving. I can see how far he has come.

We spent the first hours talking about our weight loss progress and our diets. I shared with him my new journey to happiness. How Ive become self aware and all these things I am changing and trying to improve. I felt if I could talk to someone about what was changing in me and they actually understand, it would be peter. Conversation flowed like it never stopped..I brought up something he said to me one time, nothing of huge deal but it surprised him I had remembered that. He deeply apologized for how it impacted me. I told him that i had tended to remember and keep these negative emotional experiences surfaced. I told him there’s no need to apologize,these are my things im working through. He thanked me for my forgiveness and not holding resentment. Then he went on to tell me this

“ I believe that we could never master our demons enough to come together as we should have, and that we were probably one of a select few matches for our souls. Maybe even the best matches. But because of humanity having such a high margin for error we passed by each other at the wrong times in life. Now here we are as fully formed people, in full Realization of what our potential is (which is almost limitless) and that moment has passed by.”

And that’s just it..the moment passed us by because we weren’t where we needed to be. We let our demons defeat us. We had never worked on ourselves or healed from all our hurt and pain that tore us apart. I don’t want life or the people meant to be in my life, experiences and opportunities to get away from me. All because I never worked through my bullshit and because I’m still living in my past. I can rebuild and I can chisel at this new start myself... with love, forgiveness,patience and growth.

We do change.

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luvknow · 5 years

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under the cut is all 30-ish asks LOL i’ve tagged those who didn’t go on anon!! if i missed anyone, im sorry ;;;;;

1. I think Lisa's fully thai and pretty sure Yeri (I'm assuming red velvet's) is fully korean, but I completely agree with you about Lana! I don't understand the support for a fully white person in kpop- like why??? Also I think Somi not being supported has to do more with 'oh look this popular girl was on sixteen/produce so lets just hate on her'- doesn't make sense. And your post on asian eyes is soo true!! Like got bullied over 'chinky' eyes but a white person having them is celebrated.

ahhh ok i thought lisa was half because her last name doesn’t sound thai, but i could just be ignorant! and yeri hm does she have a step parent? someone told me her dad was an actor or something but anyways!! and with somi yeah i think it could be that too :/ one time i saw a white person cosplay at this anime convention and they taped their eyes and i................ wanted to die...........LOL

2. !!! I literally sent another an to someone about this (I don't know if my asks keep getting eaten or if no one wants to respond 😞) but like she's apparently gotten surgery to look more Korean 🙄🙄 however she doesn't look Korean at all in her music video. Also yeah she can kinda sing but it's not anything special at all. Also the dancing.. apparently she's "classically" trained... when I watched her dance I was so confused because I expected more - pt.1 soz / But it didn't seem like she knew how to follow a simple routine at all. I'm classically trained and it's hard work so to me it's kinda insulting that she thinks she can lie about that??? Maybe she isn't but.. Also this song isn't catchy and the lyrics are ? V questionable. Anyways that my two cents, take it as you will. - pt.2

i hope the surgery thing isn’t true, i won’t believe it until i see evidence or something but......... thassa no.......................................... classically trained sounds like that takes yeeeaarrrss to do, i hope she didn’t lie about that cuz like what’s the point in lying skjdskjd

3. Kpop is literally for asians.. It's an Asian genre catering to Asian people... Idk why white people decided to come in and why this Lana girl feels the need to debut as an idol. Honestly, kpop for me (as an Asian) was the one place I could go to and be surrounded by other Asians, who appreciate OTHER ASIANS and their music. I'm tired of white people coming in and taking things that don't belong to them... like just go debut in Russia or America if they want to debut so badly...

I FUCKING!!!!! I’m SAYING UGH LIKE I DON’T GET WHY IT HAS TO BE K-POP OUT OF ALL GENRES?????????????? couldn’t she have like.... debuted and then worked with k-pop artists like that’s a collaborative effort on both ends rather than her appropriating ugh i just.......... it does Not make sense.

4. @miniwaves Who is this Lana and why are they letting a fully WHITE person debut in an ASIAN group??? As an Asian I feel very offended, this is something that is important to our culture and something we have that is separate from other countries... but sure go ahead and let someone not of that culture join just because it's "good publicity". Freaking heck...

i think she’s debuting as a soloist, i could be wrong, but even if it was a group i just.... don’t like it and it doesn’t make sense to me and yeah i agree i think it’s insulting to those who have a personal connection as an asian to have someone not asian take advantage of the rise in kpop like this.

5. okay i looked up lana and watched her live and it was not pretty to see or listen to... as an asian i feel weird seeing a white person in a kpop/asian industry... it's very cringy to watch too...

it’s weird, i think it’s kinda gross, and yeah i bet it’s a lil cringey lol

6. no offense to lana but i don’t think you’d wanna hear her sing,,,, there’s that one group (z-girls??) with all asians like thai, indonesian, indian, japanese, filipino, but people are mad bc they should classify as kpop bc they’re not korean. but ppl are supporting lana even tho she’s also not korean, because it gives them hope that they can also be kpop idols and be with their oppas

YES Z-GIRLS :(((( WHERE IS THERE ATTENTION?? a colorful group of beautiful ASIAN women trying to make it in an ASIAN industry but you never hear about them why???????? like none of this is fair lmao omfg your last statement Stop.... spill the tea sis...........

7. as a run-of-the-mill white person... I don’t get why anyone who is white feels the need to perform in kpop or become a kpop artist because they have their own culture/country/industry/ whatever tf that they can make music and perform in?? That’s all music is, really, an industry and I can understand wanting to be involved in some way but just singing in Korean shouldn’t be enough for you to be deemed a “kpop artist”

“run of the mill white person” omg please lol and oooo i think your last statement is very interesting because what really constitutes as a kpop artist these days, especially if the idol is asian but not korean, you know? but yes, thank you for addressing that white people have their own music industry skjdalkjds

8. YES EXACTLY like i have a Very Chinese name and i didn't start becoming cool with it until i got into exo m because yifan luhan zitao yixing!! so even though i'm into other groups too, exo will always have a special place in my heart. and same, i used to get made fun of for liking kpop but look at us now

that’s beautiful that kpop can really do that and make non-korean asians feel included in some form you know?? i love it!!

9. everybody gave that alex reid girl TONS of shit for being a black kpop idol when she was in rania, but now that lana has debuted, she gets all of the love and support and i'm just like ????? freaking flabbergasted by this whole thing :'(

i had to look her up, but that’s so unfortunate and unfair that the backlash only happened to someone who was black, but wasn’t as severe for lana like.... pick a side, you either don’t want non-asians in kpop period or you do like don’t be colorist about it.

10. Yours and that last anon's message about being asian resonated so much

i couldn’t remember which one it was LOL but i’m glad you can relate to us!!

11. i'm kinda curious why lana didn't just stay in russia and start her career there instead of coming to korea, learning korean, and having to go through the whole training process when staying in her home country would have been easier but it's like she knows how popular kpop is now worldwide and is trying to profit and get famous off the hard work of the other groups who had to struggle in order to get kpop recognized in other countries but that's just my opinion

i don’t completely agree with the first part, simply because non-korean asians did all the training and learning korean to become a kpop artist rather than staying in china/thailand/america, BUT i fully agree with that last part like so many idols outside the big 3 and other well known companies are struggling right now.......... and then she swoops in and is getting more attention that most groups like ok..

12. @hnlix i just think it's really funny how some non-asian people really just wanna talk abt how they feel abt having a full white kpop idol & how good it is .... like..... ok lol !!!!!

girl the way i eye rolled............ im pressed LMAO

13. white people wanna be oppressed so bad lmaoooo

LIKE WHY THO LMAOOO

14. i hate how asian oppression is largely ignored but once we stand up for ourselves we're making a big deal or being sensitive if you're not asian don't tell us how to feel

LMAO omg it’s cuz we’re “submissive & too sensitive” LMAO like no bitch!!!!

15. Any white kpop fan who is trying to tell an Asian how they're supposed to feel about a music genre that is meant for Asians, created by asians, and catered to ASIAN people who go right f*** off

TELL EM SIS

16. I think Lisa isn't half white just her stepfather is white I believe

AH OK!!! makes a lot of sense!

17. Lol I’m so sorry you’re getting these white Kpop fans coming here acting all oppressed and calling your opinion invalid. I also got a bunch of these yesterday when I voiced out my opinion- lost a bunch of followers but oh well. These are probably the same fans who low key also want to become idols- smh 🤦🏻‍♀️

losing followers over your feelings of oppression is just natural selection at its finest babie, we in dis together!!!!!!!!!!! that last sentence............ spill the tea sis..........

18. All ur saying is that white people dont belong in an Asian industry lmao idk what anon is getting so worked up about. You’re not even making fun of her ur just stating the facts. There’s a difference

thank you like i didn’t say white people deserve to die or that i called her ugly LOL i just don’t want her in this industry!!!!!!!!

19. @jisungs-veterinar So i know about Rania she's mixed black but not asian. She is very cute and nice and she got into the industry without any type of talent she just liked songwriting and the agency scouted her without audition but things were good and there wasnt hate from what i saw. But Lana is just a white girl who likes kpop and knows how to dance(nothing special believe me)and just barely learned to sing.Just because daddy has money she got here because she appeared in some kshows.She has no right to be here / Therefore i just wanna say i agree with you and it angers me so much that Lana is here in kpop ALLOWED to be and ugh

i see, well a lot of kpop artists get their songs from other non-asian artists too. i just don’t like the idea of non-asians considered as idols, even rania, but i’m confused cuz some people are saying she got a lot of hate and some are saying she didn’t but regardless it seems like lana is getting some special treatment and it’s not right. but it’s all heresay i suppose idk kasjdlka

20. okay wow that one anon basically saying that whites are being oppressed?? no. im mixed but i’m ridiculously white passing, most people don’t believe me when i tell them that i’m half chinese but once they hear it, all of the asian jokes come out and i’m reduced to the stereotype of one of my heritages. so please anon, be quiet. also it makes total sense for someone to not be for a white person, or any person who isn’t asian that means alex (i think it’s alex) as well and i’m running out of space / im continuing lmao from that last ask. kpop/jpop/cpop are specific genres of music that originate from these countries and from the people in these countries. it’s one of the very few ways that asians get recognition and now it’s on a global scale that their effort are being seen so no imo i don’t think that non asians should be coming into the industry. if a nonasian wants to be an artist in a pop genre? please stick to just pop and if you want to show appreciation for these languages and -

one drop of blood that isn’t white and ppl reduce you to that thinking you are lower than they are but then once that drop of blood is popping and flourishing they wanna take advantage of that and it’s hurtful ugh!!! AND YES LIKE ASIANS ARE FINALLY GETTING SOME FORM OF RECOGNITION even if it is asian pop it’s a step forward imo like where else do we get recognized by the masses?

21. the thing is white people already have so much representation in western media. kpop is something uniquely asian and i feel like it would sort of ruin it if white people or other races started trying to debut as idols. i don’t know i don’t want to be exclusive or whatever you would call it, but it just doesn’t seem right in my opinion.

i agree!! it’s something that’s unique to asia/asians and by adding non-asians to the mix i feel like it reduces it’s authenticity and dilutes the pop culture to something other than kpop

22. I see where you’re coming from 100%. Like if some white person tried to enter the Mexican industry(?) I’d be like “wtf” too.

LOL thank you for agreeing jashdajh

23. *filipino/dark skinned kpop idol* KpOp iS oNlY fOr AsIaNs nOt FoR anYoNe ElsE *white asian lookin idol* hmm yea we nees the diversity y'all stop being racist 😏

LMAO PLEASE u tell em sis!!!!!!!!!!! the day a filipino makes it into kpop i will cry

24. Why did nobody back up exp edition as much as this chick?? The clowns y'all are 2day.......

LMFAO...................... it’s cuz she’s a girl and i’m sure most of these anons are girls and you know how it goes................................... lana gives them hope KLJDLKSJDSL

25. @virgolix hi mori 🐥 just wanted to join in as well. & i think i see where ur coming from. from my understanding, it has always been hard to for asians to have proper representation in western media. & that must be why a lot of people are having a hard time supporting lana. she (a non-asian) can make her debut in korea, but not it's not so easy vice versa. how many asian pop musicians do we see who are based in america? few & far between. that's why kpop is so valuable to the asian community 💞 -virgolix / also no pressure to answer that mori & if any bit sounded ignorant - please let me know. always willing to learn 🧸 - virgolix

no no you’re not ignorant at all miss neenz!!! i agree, it will be hard for her, and i hope she’s ready for all the hardships that come with being a non-asian in the kpop industry. and yes, asians don’t get many opportunities in the west for entertainment, and when they do show up it’s a great feeling and accomplishment and step forward for us!! for a long long time, kpop idols and kdrama actors were all i had to look up to, and i’m not even korean lol.

26. @jxsng people really be making discourse about this ??? it’s true though — like z girls and z boys ??? where’s the korean media about them ????? and other asian idols too — there’s a reason why there’s usually only chinese japanese and korean idols , but suddenly white people can come in and everyone fine just because ??? wasn’t there black idols who failed in the industry bc of racism in the past ?????

i didn’t know there was a zboys!!! zgirls weren’t my style, but it’s sad lie where is their attention ://// i’m not so sure about the last part? there was this one rapper who was half black half korean tho who got attention at one point but i dont think she made it big..... i cant remember her name!! :(

27. ok so im only here for that one ask talking abt black kpop idols and i might not know all black kpop idols but the one i know who is the first non asian person to debut in kpop, has said it herself that she wasnt opressed in anyway, glorified even. so idk what theyre talking abt? also i dont like lana not bc she debuted in kpop as a white person but bc its obv that she did it w koreaboo intentions? everything abt her screams koreaboo and im just speechless lol

ah that’s interesting!! idk her story tho. that’s what i think about her too, like why..... does she look like she passes for half asian.... but she isn’t.... and it rubs me the wrong way. but i just also don’t like that she’s white...

28. i honestly find it kinda stupid how ppl are treating this situation. i dont like lana but honestly other races being in kpop shouldnt be such a big issue? if a company wants to debut a nonasian person it shouldnt be our issue? i dont think its anything evil. i just dont like lana because she seems to be trying to look and force the idea that she is asian? if a nonasian person will debut in kpop they should at least have a character of their own yk

you give a really interesting point and i think a lot of my feelings DO stem from her looking asian when she’s not, rather than her just being non asian and trying to make it into kpop, but for a very long time i only had kpop idols to really feel like it was ok to be asian and idrk where i’m going with this LOL but idk i still don’t like the idea of non-asians in kpop, etc. so idk. am i ignorant for feeling this way?

29. people will never understand that white ppl can't be oppressed and poc can't b racist towards white ppl, we can discriminate and be Rude but that's It. fans only think about this One white girl trying to make it in an industry where she doesn't rly belong, but looking at this in terms of society as a whole, it Is a problem. when poc have something that belongs to Them, white people always want in.

UGH LIKE i feel like people are thinking that i legitimately hate this one girl and that’s it like no i don’t hate her, i hate that she and everyone who is supporting her don’t understand where people who are affected by this are coming from and it’s like no one is listening.............................

30. anon is kinda stupid ngl how r u gonna say we’re being racist to white people it’s not possible 😭😭😭 u guys really want everything don’t u 😭😭😭

LMAAAAAAAOOOOOO KJFLKSFJ

31. lana is just a big kboo n all the ppl that support her are just wee little kboos in the making

KJDLKSJDSLKJSLDJ LOOOOOL

32. idk what’s going with this whole thing but, you’re totally right, i’m white and white people ARE NOT oppressed. why are people getting salty abt it?

i literally don’t know LMAO LIKE I’M BEING RACIST FOR DEFENDING SOMETHING THAT WHITE PEOPLE ARE TRYNA DIP THEIR FEET IN WHERE I THINK THEY DON’T BELONG????????? ok

33. either way lana is a whole ass kboo and can’t even perform soo

omg i have never watched her but ajksldjalksdjnasdnasnd

#sorry if this subject brought something negative to your dash #but thanks to those who sent in asks and had something to say!!! whether you agreed with me or not #idk i personally love discussions like this but i will admit i get carried away #discourse #ugh i feel cleansed

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lostinathoughtonceagain · 4 years

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Im not sure where to start although i feel like i alwyas start with that.My mom says i seem to be doing alot better and inn truth i am. I feel more myself and joyous and mre personality, and than theres still an emptiness that creeps in. The sort of weird shame feeling i used to get in mornings or without a shirt on, i got it today after grabbing clothes from my moms. maybe this is just a personal issue but im trying not to isolate myself in my emotions. TI appreicate and find it hard to understand the idea of common humanity. It is true humans all epereince these emotions and it is only to ones disadvantage when we tell ourselves were the only ones who have ever felt these emotions. In truth we are the only ones who experience things given we all have different perspectives, childhoods, personalities, and biology of our brains.. yet i think that an important to try to find the common humanity. empathy, relating to one another. we are more alike than we are different. YOu know when your on the freeway and you wonder where are all these people going. Myabe some are picking up there kids, going to a booty call, stopping to grab bananas at the store, and we wont ever know, everyone is all doing there own thing, eveyone is jsut driving just going to work doing things and im wo dering if anyone else is freaked out about what is happening. Why the hell are we here?n why iseveryone not freaking out with the little time we have, i want to make the most out of what is happeing i dont want to waste any more time not being where i want to be, i wanted to be skinny so i can go on with my life. But i geuess thats alos the point of life. ive been so worried about living that i havnt actually been living. Im failing at an attempt to handle my shit. I look back on the past and how come i can only think, mostly think of the bad things. The relationships that i shouldve ended sooner cuz i didnt really lvoe them as i thought love would be. THey were all merely a disspointment. That sounds rude but to put it this way i alwyas thought there was something better for me. MY parents used to say at times “its never enough for you katie” maybe that is true. maybe im never satisidef. Maybe it was because they were tired and had tried there best and i failed because my needs wernt meant. not that they were needs. I think back to guys ive hooked up with and wish i had higher standards. why did i find satisfaction in attention from people that didnt even care about me. WHen guys used me and i was glad to let them. Especailly when i had previous ly had crsushes on them. FUCK BOYS WITH J names. i dont know why im writing as if im writing a story. maybe it makes it easier maybeim trying to articulate my thoughts into something there not. I think about things that have happened and hope i can maybe use them as a testimony maybe ill meet the love of my life adn get to share all these stories... but i dont things play out like that and thats a weird perspective to have on things thsat occur. Like as if im a narrator. I would get so ecited to send cute pictures of myself when i was baby and show my boyfriends, or share things with them but then i realized something. they dont care, well definlty not like me. That ecitement about it is not the same as the one im epereiecning and when i was sent baby pictures of them, i didnt feel that warmth in my heart. maybe that makes me a bitch or emotionally disconnected. but how do i know if im feelin. what connections have i made. I used to want to be under the influence and gina my therapist said that people go to substances to feel connection. When i was on coke, life was beautiful i could talk to anyoe and everyone adn words flowed so well. In my head, looking back i probably looked like a crack head and thats the reality of it. I can manipulate my reality but to what is its value if its a lie. if no one else feels or sees what im seeing. ona nother thought i think we can make up these sotries in our heads that arnt even true. like somone tells us something or we feel a certain way about ourself so and it ends upso our whole olives our affected by this painting in our head only to find out no one sees what were seeing. my dad said that we can change the past, welll we can change our past by changing how we look at it. and i think if we could grasp it it would change our lives. I think that i could look back and not feel that shame, or not feel that embarressment. But am i not a sum of all the words thoughts and actions ive done or had uot o this point? thats depressing, but if it were something i was proud of then yes i would like to be. but the truth is all wehave is the now and you can start now being a totally different person, but you cant run away from all the consequences of the past i guess they jsut dont matter if you decide to change. but then what about bridges burned. i guess my plan b ina sense is to run away to another country. but then theres legal issues and this whole system and ates and bad guys and tso m8uch to worry about that i dont feela sense of freedom. my information is online and under a sytem and i undertsadn why i just wish everything could be quiet for sa sec. mayeb i dont want to be aktie stowers anymore. I get jealos of girls born and raised pretyy. all ive done is starved myself in the process of becoming what i want to be but thats not even me. if i have to starve to et there then i feel as though i dont actuallyl deserve to be skinny. and i fee l so vain for obsessing over this fucking thought. iw anted to be skinny this is what ive said from the beginging can someoine please help me do it. the probelm is that im in treatment for anoreica sub purge type and the reality is that i cant lose weight withought going to etreme measures. it became the most important thing in my life and ive been strung up on the same thought since fucking march of 2018. talk about time wasted. although i know thats no way of looking at it. ive learned lessons and have ad so many beautiufl things happpen. I get told very kind things about myself. i wonder if im actually a kind person or i only do things simply to be a kind person. if eel kinda selfish but i guess we all are. i mean think about how amny bad things are happening in this world and children starving and here i am buying things i dont need anf focuing on myself. but im not doing anything about it. i mean i try to tip etra give to homless ifi can i just feel guilt because i could be doing more but ijalso know that im not responsibly to save the world. jsut seems wrong the way things are. thats why i believe everyone goes to heaven. maybe because i cant wrap my head around the possily fact that barrett wouldnt and also becasue the idea of eternal damnation dosnt seem like the character of a god i want to serve. i see so much bullshit in the church and i just dont know . am i jsut angry. I became so jdugemntal of those judging me and thats just as worse but when theres almost a cluba nd you dont fit into there critera it fucking hutts. and that dosnt feel liek jesus i think jesus wouldnt let us be seperated by rleigion or if you drank last weekend. I think we should all unite and love each other and thats what reallly matters. yet here i am obsessed over being skinny. im down to 4 hour as of yesterday and i feel so much better i do. i just wish i could have one long 2 day therapy session whre i fucking figure out all my shit. ive gone to so much therapy and its been etremly helpful i jsut dont wanna waste anymore time with this baggage. I dont wanna go a minute longer when i could giure all this out. i guess what im saying is i want my life tp be an open canvas and not be unravveling and my childhood issues poopping up.. i want to go into the fututre knowing what i know adn epeireicning my life as it plays out. but i am 18 ishouldnt be thinking this much into things huh i should just let it be and lvie my life. i should be doung homework an teting my frienfds or going on a date. but thats not ther eality of things and alos i think ill look abck and things will be different. IOm also int reatment rn so oviously my situation is not exactly normal. i really do love to write i used to always want to be an author. but i dont kno0w anymore. i jsut dont really like how the sytem works i hate how we all have to go to college amd study things i dont give a fuck about and then some struggle at there 9-5 to merely surve eand ig uess i dont like the thoughr of that. and i know were suppsoed to find joys in the little things i think things are jsut freaking me out. iw ant to quit smoking nicatine but everyday i go out and do it. ig uess that meanns i dont really want to stop because if i did i would. i and then i feel slightly guilty and opackiy because his is the only boduy im given. like does that not freak everyone out. this is the only way we are able to eperience life. think about how quickly it can be ended. i think that is too much pwier overmyself. nmot that im suicidal but i do think i hgave the power to find out super son what is after this life. judgment day, pure nothingness, maybe ill become a=one of the many ants i ahev enjoyed killed as a punsihemtn for msyelf. or hoe[fully and maybe ill entire a heaven with a lovuing god. a state of being with loved ones. I think thats why people like the idea of heavn the idea that you will see people later. but that discount the factof pain. when someones child dies they dont feel any less pain because a verse about being reunited with the,. because the truht im scared to tyee is that theres a possibility heaven isnt rela. and the loved one that is lost will never be in your reaach again.i feel sad for how ome peoples lifeves go. i hope they get a chance in the after life to have what they wanted. but then i think abotu abd guys. i wouldnt want them in my heaven. i guess maybe who we all our at our core is who would be in heaven beyond all the nasty. yet i dont believ flesh is nasty and i dont believ trying my whole life to not be something i was made to be. if my flesh is evil adn mankind is doomed what the fuck is that. i dont think god would set us upnto fail and i believ ehe understands we are human. and gpd is god and god knew everything that was going to happen up to npw. u know whats crazy is that on the time line we are on the edge of what is to come. being aluive rn. and its crazy that i wont be here in 100 years. ill be merely history. but rn we are whats happneing 7:12 november 11th. we are up to datebecause we are merely aliver. unless there is different universes and this is m,erely a simulation. but besides the point. barrett was talking about just how many books songs and information there is. that makes me pancik there is so many people so many things i could learn and musici could listen to that no one can listen to it all. maybe theresa song out there that is my favorite son that ill never get to lsiten to but i gues si jsut have to trust that the universe ligns up as it should and my life will happen as it should. and alll these things are happneing and were floating in the middle of space and yet i feel like people arnt freaking out. like what hthe actual fuck is happneing. and why do iu want to soedn my one life doing shit that dosn matter or something i dont even love. but thats how life works because you have to have moneya nd i do love bying things. and i jsut need to relax. because when people look back on there past they think if i could only tell msyelf its going to be okaya nd to have fun. why cant i do taht i mean i can but tehn these thughts come in. iwant to be skinny i also love food. starving was easy and i like d seeing my bones show,. i wanted people to see me and know i was hurting but people dont wanna be sround sa dpeople i guess i just wanted o be rescued. and at the same time it was nice to focus on the thingsd because even if all went ot hell if i restricted enought hat was okay my eating idsorder would tell me that everything was going to be okay because i was taking care of the one thing i actaully wanted. writing this makes me sound crazy to msyelf. i have so many things i want to larn and do and so having an eating disorder makes me feel limated. amd truly it does limit me. it dosnt allow me to worry and think about these tihngs. i just really want to be skinnya dn i dont know where this started or why its so impiortant but i just am not a fann of my boyd. and i know tis terirble because im more than m y body and i know i cant stave mtyself and i know that this makes me self cenetred i know that it didnt pkay out as the damsel in distress that i wanted i know wthat i pushed loved ones away and made desisions taht really arnt alligned with my values because truly i didnt care i just wanted to get skinny i know i didnt look healthy bu in my mind that s the best ive eever looked. i know that the husband i meet is going to lvoe me for whats beond my appreance so it dosnt matter and getting atention from others isnt satisying and only leaves me feeling empty i knwo lifes to short to count your calories, to walk around feeling fraila nd loung every seconds. to reach 109 and not see a body close to what was at 116. to talk about numbers because they w]makr improtant parts of my life adn to allso swear that i dont care that much about the numbers. i care about the look. but if what they say is true and i ahve body dismprhia thats impossible. they say the eating idpsrder says itll never be enough. it will nevr be satisiuded. “ its never enough katie” never enough

and so maybe its me maybe im just this warped person. why do memories come back so weird and hwy did i have su h weird thoughts a s f\child. why do i get filled with so much rage. somtiems i think im the most grogeous girl and others i want to killmsyelf because i fel worthless. imm not suicdial but i can remeberthe first time i thought about killing kmyself i was in the abck seat of the car my brothers wre all teasing me about soething but for whatecer reason i was upset by it. i remebr crying and thinking how bad thye would feel if i killed myself. i carried this idealation iwht me later on. gina says i used this as a coping skill.w whenevr someone was mean, didnt say the right thing, didnt invite me, or a aprent said something hurtful. o thouhgt about it as if i were a ghost. watching how sad they were that they had not done better with me. that they said those angry words last to me instead of teeling me uhow much they lvoed me. that when they gossiped ghey felt so bad after because i was dead. i sometimes wish i could watch this unfold. but thats demented and evil. my ghost smiling with satifdaction as she watches loved one who id love and people who were simply lvingnthere life be affected by this. what good would it do to me or them. it would ruin them, does thaa amke mf evil. and then i realzie thats not how death wokrs. ill go to wahtevr is after this.a dm why would i waste my eistence on a disguestingnromantizsm of revenge. shpuld move on better msyelf and make connections and share with my lovedones hwen theyve hurt me or that i need more love. i love treamnt. i love the lif3 im having. besids hating my body i love doing art and larning life skills and if eel like pooeple love me for me there and i can really be myself and support others. but i cant live my life in treatment. i want to relapse theres a few pros to this. one i get skinny againa dn can take pcitures while im skinnya dn try to do it a healthier way. 2 i can jsut go back to treatment and 3 thats a big fuck you to insuracne and theyll realize i coudlve used more help. my ancupucture lady said i need to let people help me adn its tru. i can read boooks hae copnversations go toa therapist but what goofd does it do if its not evn sticking with me. if i dont allow it to change me. im so stuck in that i want to be skinny. but im also tired of haojng my body, the thought about being okay iwht my body is sad to. ill jsut be ugly and not care? amd i wont be ablr to beas beautiful as i want to be. the law of attraction streases me out to because what if everytihng im writing is manif3sting as we speak. hut io cant just iugnore all thse thoughts. its good to journl ane write. i smoked the other night and told susan and brooke but lied to my treatment team. but honestly i was anxious the whole time and outside of playing with myself and dougna trippy spiritaul mediaiton itwasnt the best time. it ,made me realize i enjoy beig sober bcecause i can do lall the things i want to do and not be stupid and i can be mindful. but then i feel a little desperate at the idea of not having anys ubstances. i sjsut need to create a good ralit y formyself. also i just don tfeel like im the little blon girl in my baby photos like me and her arnt \even the same person but i am i am her in 18 year old form. i jsut dont even know who i am or whats happening. iw ant to chilla dn i need to find balance. maybe this is because my brain has more room oto think about thoings. it kinda hurts me that my mom dsont know that much about eating disorders but yet she says she knows how bad these thionhd can get. likes he can talk so much about me needing help and this and that and yet she hasnt veen taken the tiem to udnerstand what it is im goi g throug. but i shoudlnt epect her to i dont evn knkw what is happneing. cons of relasping is more time wwasting life farther form my hoal. what is my goal all i can think abou t is working on my body bye cercising and eating healthy after treatment. iu dont underdstand why people dopnt think this is a huge thing for me. it makes it so i cant wear what. im so tired of caring. i want to get out of my head. but reality is i am katie and i have to deal wiht whats going on it dosnt do any good whining about it. another con is that my family would be disapinted. im kinda scared i ahev cancer ir im going ot die and jus stop breatinh. its probaly jsut anxiety . nbut i think about the drugs ive done and all that ive smoked and when ive starved and i wonder if im jsut shutting gdown. but i guess were all shutting down. but you cant tell kids these tihngs they dont care and they wouldnt undertsnad. i guess im jsut freaking out at my very eistence. im also very thankful to ebe alive. the fact were all ehsiting rn is crazy i think everything happens for a reason and theres a beautiful lessona nd “work of art called love” desinged by the creator. i ksut dpnt think itds what people think its actaully is. julian is just dsigusing why was i ever ino him. but i cant stop 16 year old me by being into him. but he really wasa dick adn oi dont think hes aw the value in me. my idea of him thinking that was because hesa lot uglier than me or the line in fredys song where he says “ why would a girl like you fall for a guy like me” and he saud thatr eminded him of us i thought that was so sweet. MO that dosnt mean he values me. why was i so okay with accepting bullshit.a nd nathan. i really liked nathan we were bestfriends. but i got really cazy jealous. i was supposed to eat2 and ahalf hours ago and im not rally hungry. hence my hunger ques are off. i lost 4 lbs over the weekedn and im on weight restoration i was given till friday before i have tonadd even more additions because im not supposed to be lsoing weight. but i dint feel sad baout it. i felt eciteed i guess my bodys ina place where it can lsoe weight easily. i feel like i should take advantage of it. is this litterally the eating disorder tuyping as we speak am i poseed. it is katie stowers. i guess thats what an eating idorder does. i think i ought to steer clear of caffense and weed. make things a little less harde.r and truly i shuld try to quit nicatine. ots just so nice to do but i think i ought to just not do it. i think idts a porblem because i can already mpciture me going outside after break and smoking. “evntually ill quit shes aid” when i quoted julien baker in her song ahppy to be hee to esther it says “ i miss you the way that i miss nicatine” she waled away after. felt a little judged honeslt and i dont think it was cuz of me but i am better than to smoke nicatine. i think im gonna not do it tomorow. adn if i succeed well see about friday. but it is a hbit i shoudl break. but anyways theres a lot to worry about and be ecited about to and im having a hard time manging it all. and i opuld go on times ten of whats been happneing in my brain ina therap y session but it dosnt happne.

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roscoesykes · 5 years

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The Man Comes Around || Wayward Sons

Part 1 /2

Summary: The family sends men to Swynlake in order to remind the Sykes brothers exactly what’s at stake for their disobedience to their father.

Timestamp: September 9th, 2019.

Triggers: Violence, fighting, gun use, knife use, graphic injury, torture, blood, death and all the triggers associated with such scenerios. HMU for a safe & simple TL;DR.

“And I heard, as it were, the noise of thunder One of the four beasts saying, ‘Come and see.’ and I saw, and behold a white horse"

@desotosykes

ROSCOE:

They caught him off guard.

They caught him completely off guard - and it was only now that Roscoe realized just had complacent he had become. He'd stopped looking over his shoulder. Stopped wondering if people were around the corner. For the first time in a long time, Roscoe had been happy. He had a family that he loved, a brother by his side that was finally falling in love himself - a beautiful wife and a baby boy they loved dearly. Oliver, who he'd slowly but surely been accepting as someone he could learn to call his eldest son.

God - there was really no describing how fucking happy he really was. So happy, and trying his best to stay out of trouble and that meant for the first time in his life, he wasn't paranoid either. It was almost freeing how amazing that could feel after living a life looking over his shoulder every day.

It was just a goddamn shame that was what fucked him over now.

The men that had come for him on his walk home from the Court wasted no time. Before he could even begin to struggle there was a rough punch to his gut that dropped him to his knees - prying hands immediately relieving him of the knife within his boot and the only protection he had, a bag shoved over his face before he could even draw in a breath from the air he'd expelled in a pained grunt. It was only after rough shoves, forceful pulls, harsh comments and a completely disorienting trip that the man had finally been shoved back down to a concrete floor. His palms scratched across the surface as the bag was ripped from his head - replaced instead with fingers that curled aggressively into his hair, ripping his head up from where he was crumpled upon the ground.

"Keep your mouth shut and we ain't gonna have a problem." A voice hissed behind his ear, Roscoe's breath hitching lightly as he recognized that familiar tint of an accent, bringing forth the urge to struggle within the grip. It was only after a swift punch to his jaw that he stilled again, blood dripping from his lip as he grimaced and tried to relieve the pressure against his scalp.

What the fuck had he gotten himself into…?

DESOTO:

When DeSoto had first come to Swynlake his phone had gone off constantly. There was always a litany of texts and calls. Each one the same. Was the job done yet? Had he found Roscoe? What was taking so long? Why aren’t you answering our calls? The boss isn’t happy, we need progress. The last text he’d received had weighed on his conscience for about a month. It was a call to action and a final warning. Either do the job or we’re coming to take care of it.

A week passed by without anything else and DeSoto thought maybe they were bluffing. Another week passed the same and then another. By the time two months had passed, DeSoto was certain that they’d forgotten about him and Roscoe. There were bigger fish to fry. He’d heard through the grapevine about Bill’s appeal meeting. They’d be busy getting ready for that. Had probably been hoping their fearless leader would be let out and back into the fray.

That was the last that DeSoto had heard. His New York burner has long gone quiet and now sat in the bottom of one of the drawers in the Tipton.

It was so far from his mind, that as he made his way to Celia’s flat he didn’t think to keep his defenses up. The New Yorker had made the trek more than a few times already and most stayed out of his path. He liked to call the fact he wore a perpetual scowl his people repellent.

He was only a block or so from Celia’s apartment when his world went dark. Immediately he swung his fist out, connecting with flesh and hearing a satisfying crack as bone broke beneath his fist. Before he had time to pull back for another blind hit, something connected with his cheek and he felt pain flood through him as an iron taste filled his mouth. It disoriented him enough so that whoever was attacking him could wrestle his hands behind his back and land another blow to his head. He swayed on his feet giving them enough opportunity to shove him into what he assumed was a car. The door slammed shut and soon they were moving.

DeSoto lost track of how many turns they made. They hadn’t taken any care in strapping him and his body rocked back and forth dangerously with each sharp turn and hard brake.

When the blindfold was finally removed, his face swollen and bloody, he found himself in a building. Probably on the outskirts of town if the fact the building seemed to be falling apart was anything to go by. But that didn’t hold his attention for long. Roscoe was in the opposite corner looking just as bad as DeSoto felt.

“Aye fuckin’ let ‘im go. S’posed t’be my hit,” he spat, trying to hide the fear that suddenly gripped him and made his blood freeze.

ROSCOE:

Roscoe didn't know what was going on here - and certainly didn't want to find out but he had enough of an inkling to have a clue. He wasn't stupid, after all. There were only so many reasons a gang of thick mixed New York accented men would be holding him down and threatening him.

And by so many - of course he meant one; his father.

He'd run for so long and honestly he should have known that this shit would catch up with him. That DeSoto's refusal to kill him would finally bite them in the ass. The family didn't take no as an answer. Nor did they take refusal lightly. Guess he should have been lucky that they hadn't slit his neck so far but it wasn't much reassurance. Not when he heard the scuffle of resistance and movement outside and felt the cool tip of a gun press to the back of his neck.

Roscoe knew who the hooded man they dragged in was before they even removed the blindfold - Roscoe immediately swallowing back the fear that formed a lump within his throat. Not good. Not good at all.

A cold laugh fell from someone behind him, the gun shoving tighter against his neck as he hissed in annoyance at the uncomfortable feeling, his gaze catching his brother's with a subtle raise of his brow - a call to action if he wouldn't have already known it was pointless.

"You'll do well to remember only to speak when spoken to, asshole." The man purred, gesture something towards the man besides DeSoto, who immediately reacted by kicking the older twin down to the floor - a boot heavily planting itself between his shoulder blades.

"Hey!" Roscoe growled, pushing against the hands forcing him down and hearing the soft click of the safety that stilled him instantly. "Enough." Someone shouted, an unrecognizable asshole coming to stand between them as he regarded them distastefully.

"Let's not pretend yous both don't know why you're here. After all - my dear DeSoto, if he is your hit then I beg to wonder why he's still fuckin' here?"

DESOTO:

It took a moment for his eyes to fully adjust. He’d been solely focused on the fact Roscoe was here too and they were going to kill him. Didn’t matter that Bill had made it DeSoto’s punishment to kill his brother. Because he’d gotten complacent and had half assed his job they were both gonna die. Execution style in a dirty abandoned building.

Made sense it happened as soon as they both were fucking happy.

A grunt came from him as he was kicked to the floor. At first he struggled against the foot, trying to unbalance the asshole that had him pinned. Apparently there’d been a restructuring of goons in the family. These guys were nothin’ like the idiots he and Roscoe had dealt with before everything went down. Either that or somehow they’d gone soft. An option DeSoto didn’t even want to consider.

Des’ gaze had been fixed on Roscoe, trying his best to convey some sort of apology while he did his best to come up with a plan to get out of there. It looked hopeless but there’d be a chink in their armor somewhere. They couldn’t be strong and completely put together. They weren’t supposed to be that organized.

“I told yous idiots, I was waiting,” he spat out, glaring at the man that had entered the room. “The whole point was t’make him think he was safe. Yous fucked that up by rushin’. Now get this asshole off of me.”

ROSCOE:

A million things were going through his mind. There was nothing he wanted more than to form some kind of plan that could have gotten them both out of here and away from these fucks but he was coming up blank. Fear tinged briefly in the back of his mind as a shaky breath fell from his lips. He could see the look Des was giving him and honestly it almost only made him more nervous - it made him feel like they were nothing short of fucked.

And perhaps they were.

"We weren't asking for some elaborate plan. You were to do as yous were told and do it quickly." Roscoe heard the man speak, the tone accompanying his words drawing his brows into a furrow. "I do believe we warned you, did we not? Gave yous one last chance before we came to clean up this mess ourselves?"

Oh no. DeSoto's job was to kill him, right? So.. If they were here to clean up there was no question that by the end of the night him and Des might be nothing more than discarded bodies in the street.

"Might we remind yous what happens when you don't do as you're told, DeSoto." The stranger (asshole, Roscoe decided) spoke, only a brief moment before the cool metal disappeared from the back of his neck. Intuition only warned him that was a bad sign seconds before his arms were forced behind his back, that grip on his hair finally dropped in favor of hauling the man lightly to his knees. Roscoe's eyes widened slightly as one do the grunts in the corner moved forward, the sickening sound of metal sliding against concrete as he dragged the end of a metal bat against the floor - positioning himself beside the younger twin, bat lifting to hover cruelly over his abdomen.

"Care to try explaining your failure again? This time with less bullshit?" Head-Asshole requested, trailing off with a small roll of his hand. "Or else." The words were accented by the pressure of the metal bat against his stomach - not nearly as hard as Roscoe knew it could have been, but still enough to drive a pained shout from his lips as he jerked in the grip holding him up - said grip about the only reason he hadn't doubled over completely.

DESOTO:

Pure panic raced through him as the asshole between him and Roscoe spoke. The chances of them actually getting out of this relatively okay were slim. There was no way that Roscoe was getting out unharmed. Already he could see the way they beat the shit out of the younger Sykes. He’d be dragging his brother out unconscious most likely. If they didn’t flat out kill them.

But Des wasn’t sure they’d do that. It was Bill’s decision, anyways, to have DeSoto kill his brother. He was making a point. Punishing Des for being related to Roscoe, for being so close to him. Because there was no denying that Bill was convinced his sons were plotting to take over the business. No matter how angry DeSoto got when the accusation was thrown at him, no matter how many times he denied it.

He needed to think. And quick. What was gonna be the best way to get them both out of this?

In the span of a few seconds the answer snapped into his mind and he shot a look to Roscoe. Trust me it said because shit was definitely about to get sticky.

“Quickly,” he scoffed, looking up to the asshole from his spot on the ground. Scowling he shook, making it difficult for the man on his back to stay that way. “Get the fuck off me. Yous forget who the fuck I am? M’Bill’s fuckin’ enforcer. His heir. Yous been working for him for what? A year?”

He spat at the guy until he was let up enough to at least kneel. There was no way they’d let him up or let him have control of his hands but that was fine. He could work with that.

“It ain’t a failure. After what this asshole did?” He nodded his head towards Roscoe, narrowing his eyes and frowning at the other male. “Yous don’t think he deserved t’sweat it out? He betrayed all of us. He ruined fuckin’ everything. Bill’s locked up because of him. His fuckin’ flesh and blood. Yous think that deserves the regular rat treatment? Nah. Fuck that.”

ROSCOE:

For the record? Roscoe fucking hated this. Not that anyone would like being captured, beat up and threatened, of course, but Roscoe hated more than just that. He hated the fact that these assholes held themselves with the belief they had power. That they were sitting here blaming one twin for not killing another and that he had to sit here and listen to all the wrong he'd done all over again.

Even with DeSoto's subtle look - the one that told him that it wasn't really what he meant, the words still stung. Or… perhaps that was still just the remnants of the bat to his stomach.

"Is that… so..?" The man's voice all but purred, amusement evident in his tone - the fuck enjoying watching them suffer. Roscoe shifted uncomfortably, not liking the way gazes were drawn to him in a moment of consideration. "I agree." Lead-fucker finally stated with a small clap of his hands, smiling twisting dangerously upon his features. "Fortunately however - we do believe a year has been enough for you to make him squirm. Especially when you switched gears to, as you said 'make him feel safe'." A snap of fingers and once again that bat made contact with his body - not upon his stomach but lower, in the middle of his thighs with a much harder swing. Another yell of pain ripped from his mouth, despite his attempt to bite down on it, the hit repeated once more as Roscoe swallowed back bile.

It told him something though - they moved to the strongest bone in his body. Moved to bones that were surrounded by layers of fat and muscle to protect them rather than his unprotected organs. They couldn't kill him. Because though the shots were painful (extremely so) they were less so than one to the chest or stomach would be at that power. And yet… they moved, if only because they knew it would kill him otherwise. They were being careful.

"Come now, DeSoto. The boys and I think you've just gone soft!" A small chorus of instigating laughter followed. "Do you really care about making him suffer? - or do you just care about him?" Roscoe felt himself stiffen as the goon beside him raised the bat - nuzzling it condescendingly against his hair, and he could see the man shoot DeSoto a look. A challenge.

And in that moment… Roscoe thought he might've been wrong about the not killing thing.

DESOTO:

The funny thing about this was that a few years ago DeSoto wouldn’t have given beating the shit out of Roscoe a second thought. Hell, he’d done so a few months ago. There had been so much anger and sadness in him over everything it had been easy. The asshole holding onto Roscoe now could have given the bat and he would have gladly taken it and taken a few swings at him.

Now though?

Now the thought made his stomach turn. Bile rose in his throat but he swallowed it back. It was clear now that there was no way they were getting out of there in one piece. His goal now was to get Roscoe out of there alive. Something that looked nearly impossible now as the handle of the bat was shoved in his face.

“Fuck off. He’s my brother. Course I fuckin’ care about him. I ain’t fuckin’ heartless.” He spat the words at the chooch as he yanked the bat from his hands. “Which means yous questionin’ my loyalty to the fuckin’ family. Who was Bill’s second? Not any’a you fucks. He called all of yous in t’handle me. Ever wonder why he needed more than one?”

A scoff fell from his lips as he looked at his brother, a decision solidifying itself in his mind. Jesus this was gonna fuckin’ suck. But it was their best option. In one fluid moment he swung the bat, half heartedly, knocking Roscoe in the stomach. He felt the blow in his own stomach, wanting to double over in response. The blow was followed by his fist connecting with Roscoe’s cheek before Des dropped to his knees.

A hand went to Roscoe’s hair, tugging it harshly as he brought their heads close together. “When I tell yous, duck,” he whispered it as if he was sayin’ his final words to his brother before shoving him away with a frown and standing back up.

“Yous gonna keep questioning my loyalty or yous gonna let me fuckin’ finish this the right way?”

ROSCOE:

This was gonna blow. That was all he could think as he watched DeSoto speak towards the idiots within the room. None of them looked intimidating by his brothers words and worse off that expression of amusement was still planted on the man in the middle. They were practically just toying with them - pushing and prodding and seeing how far they could go.

Roscoe swallowed nervously as Des accepted the bat into his hands - it happened before he could even think about it. The apprehension dotting a cool sweat across his brow. Yeah, this was definitely going to blow.

Roscoe felt his teeth bite down hard into flesh as the bat connected with his stomach once more, trying his damnedest not to make a sound of pain at his brother's action - if only for DeSoto's sake. However the quick cut across his jaw caught him off guard and he knew he'd split his lip with his tooth the second he'd gotten his bearings back about him. The urge to spit the warm blood within his mouth only prevented by the quick and harsh pull at his hair.

When I tell yous, duck.

"Fuck yous." He spat quickly in response, letting his head drop down as soon it was free of his brother's iron grip. For their credit - the display seemed natural and none of the men suspected that he'd been told anything more than a whispered threat or last right. Or if they did, they certainly didn't show it - instead offering a few scoffs and growing smirks.

"Very well. If you so insist, DeSoto. Feel free to show us all the right way to finish this. Please." Roscoe heard the man say, the younger brothers gaze slipping up in an attempt to count the pairs of legs surrounding them. Since… Roscoe had an inkling of what Des might've been planning and… it certainly wasn't going to be subtle at this rate.

They needed a plan. A plan that included getting the hell out of this situation or to die trying. In order to avoid the latter, they needed to be ready. Blood dripped off his chin, accumulating easily below him as his eyes swept what he could see. Head fuck face. Guy holding his arms. Guy who'd had the bat. Guy who'd been holding Des down. Guy who'd been standing watch beside DeSoto. Five guys. At least. He couldn't see behind him. One gun for sure.

Two experienced, gang trained, street wise scrappers on their side. Well… - Roscoe shifted in his spot if only to test his mobility, a blinding white pain shooting up his back almost immediately as a grunt sounded between clenched teeth. Great. Make that one scrapper. He was going to be goddamn useless but… Fuck they didn't have a choice.

… Man - they were so goddamn screwed - and Roscoe supposed he was just going to have to take the option of die trying.

DESOTO:

These fucks were taunting him. Egging him on. They didn’t know how destructive DeSoto Sykes could be. Didn’t realize the time bomb they were working with. There was a reason DeSoto and Roscoe had been enforcers. Why Roscoe, the smarter of the twins, was paired with his brother. There was a monster that lurked just beneath the surface of DeSoto’s exterior. A dangerous, unnamed creature that reared its ugly head whenever DeSoto’s anger got uncontrollable.

That beast was restless as he watched the men around them. They were cocky, amused. They honestly thought this mission they were on was going to be simple. That they’d be able to take down The Boss’ sons. It pissed DeSoto off more than he could even put into words. The sheer ignorance. The lack of respect.

He growled as he stalked forward, ripping the gun from the other man’s hands. Fucking prick. The oldest Sykes would save him for last. He’d see him crying and pissing his pants before he finished him off; a warning to the rest of the dumbasses back home who thought they could come after them.

Easily he moved to stand behind Roscoe, a cold gleam in his eyes, and positioned the gun. It was scary how naturally the stance came back to him but expected. How many others had been put in the exact same position by him? Taking a breath he cocked the gun and counted. Each man looked on expectantly, waiting for the gun to sound.

“Duck.”

Before Roscoe had a chance to complete the action DeSoto shot the gun, aiming for the idiot that’d been holding him down. Before the body hit the floor the gun was dropped to Roscoe and DeSoto sprang forward, body colliding with the ring leader. Darkness took over then as his fists collided over and over with the asshole’s face.

ROSCOE:

Roscoe wasn't going to pretend that he wasn't scared. Even though he knew that DeSoto wasn't going to kill him, he still felt his blood turn to ice in his veins as his brother moved to stand behind him. It only served to remind him of how close this had been to a reality. Of how many times this entire situation crossed his mind in a nightmare.

His breath even stilled as the gun clocked behind him - drawing out that last bit of courage as he found himself silently praying regardless. He never knew if Des would change his mind in that moment - to remember how much of his life had been fucked up all because of him.

Duck.

Roscoe moved before he even fully processed the word, his hands pulled back around to his front as he dropped forward with a sharp pain in his abdomen. Seconds were precious - and the room erupted into chaos within a moment. He heard the clatter of the gun beside him, a hand reaching out to grab it as he used most of his will to flip himself onto his back.

A shot was fired off - hitting the man who'd been holding him in the chest and dropping him immediately. Before he could get the second round off however, a body was on top of him - a knee landing heavily on his hip as a hand tried to shove the gun away. Ros tried his best to bring his own knee up to topple his opponent quickly before more damage could be done, but he'd still felt the cold slice of a knife against his skin before he'd managed to get the gun situated back under his attacker.

The report of the pistol felt deafening in his already ringing ears, the splatter of blood from the other man coating him like mist on a summer morning before his body was shoved aside like a ragdoll.

Trying to waste no time - two more shots rang out, both barely hitting their mark on the goons on their way to stop the brawl between his brother and the man in charge. They weren't fatal - he was sure. But…incapacitated was more than enough for him right now. It was only when he didn't see them move to get up that the pistol finally dropped from his weakening grip, a pained groan slipping through his lips as his hand instead moved to clutch his abdomen, gaze trying to focus across the room towards his brother - hoping and praying that he was winning his own battles and that he hadn't miscounted the number of guys present.

He didn't have the strength or will to pick that gun back up if he had.

DESOTO:

In any other situation, the sound of gunshots would be jarring. In any other situation, however, DeSoto wouldn’t be brawling with an assailant. He’d be by his brother’s side firing his own weapon. But as it was, DeSoto didn’t even hear the gunshots. His rage had taken over and all he could focus on was the guy beneath him. The fucker needed to pay for what he did. And it was DeSoto’s job to ensure he paid.

All around him was the sound of flesh on flesh. His fists were bloody. Though, he wasn’t sure if that blood was his own or the other guys. It didn’t matter to Des. He hadn’t heard the crunch that he wanted; didn’t feel the asshole stop moving beneath him. That was wait he was waiting for. Why he kept hitting the so called ring leader of this little group.

A large part of the darkness wanted to treat him how he’d treated Roscoe and DeSoto. It wanted to leave him bloodied and bruised on the floor waiting for death. Only DeSoto would draw it out. This man would wait hours, days, weeks before he got that sweet release. And his death would be painful. It was easy to conjure up different scenarios of how it would go. Each one was more painful than the last and it left a large grin on the Italian’s face as he continued to beat on the man

Finally, with arms that felt like they were made of leaf, DeSoto got the confirmation he wanted. There was one deafening crunch as the man beneath him went limp. Not quite ready to believe the man was dead, Des pinched what was left of his caved in nose and waited for the man to take a gasping breath. When it didn’t come, he peeled himself away from the corpse beneath him.

Immediately his eyes scanned the room, taking in the bodies strewn around it. Roscoe had killed most while Des had worked the leader over. Later he’d come back and collect personal tokens to send home to New York. The rest he’d burn and dispose of once they were in the clear.

It was then that his attention turned to his barely conscious brother. “Roe,” his voice sounded like gravel as he stopped down to the younger man. He was pale. A pale they’d never really been. And Des could see the puddle of red seeping from him. Panic kicked in then, pushing the darkness back into its corner, as he shifted to hoist his brother up. “Fuck. Hold on. Fuckin’ hold on.”

ROSCOE:

Roscoe could feel the pounding in his ears - his heartbeat a quick and almost unsteady drum that drilled relentlessly into his head. The pain seemed to throb in time with it, growing and shrinking every second as he curled lightly into himself.

To say he felt like shit would be an understatement - shit not even beginning to cover the way in which his body seemed to be hurting around him.

A groan served as his brother's only answer to the soft call of his name (or maybe it was loud, he couldn't tell above his heart beat). As long as DeSoto gave him a few moments to gather his bearings he'd be fine… everything would be fine and they could just go home and laugh about this later.

"—Eugh" Came the pained sound of irritation at being jostled, a hiss slipping from his lips as he leaned heavily into his brother's shoulder. ".. —m'okay, s'okay." He tried to reassure him, his tone only a little garbled, as he tried to press himself up into a proper stand. He didn't realize however how much of a daunting task that was really going to be - every movement tweaking a new flare of pain and a fresh wave of nausea.

Hand once again found its way towards his stomach, curling tightly along his abdomen as he stumbled in his brother's grip. Shaky fingers pulled at the fabric of his shirt lifting it just enough as his gaze fell to look at the skin resting beneath. It took him far too long to focus, eyes narrowing for far too long before he realized his vision wasn't that fucked up - the skin was just dark red from bruising and… - well actually that wasn't the color of bruising at all.

"F-f… Fuck. S'not good."

DESOTO:

Adrenaline continued to course through DeSoto’s veins. The darkness was receding but it still lingered on the edges of his vision. It wanted to keep him fighting, to find another person worthy of his anger, but rationality was sinking back in. The need to take care of his brother emerging with each weak word from Roscoe.

His eyes zeroed in on the skin Roscoe was showing. Fuck. It wasn’t good. There wasn’t going to be getting this patched up at the hotel. They’d have to go to the hospital and that was gonna be enough trouble. Now there were going to be questions. They’d probably want to have the police called in to find out what happened. It was ingrained in them to avoid the fuzz. It only led to more trouble in cases like this.

But— his brother was bleeding out and looking worse each passing second.

“S’fine you stupid fuck,” he huffed, hoisting him up further. They needed to figure out where the fuck they were. How far they were from the fuckin’ hospital. He had a gut feeling that they didn’t have too long. Limping under his own slight injuries and Roscoe’s weight, DeSoto cursed when he got outside and saw where they were at. Too fuckin far from town to make it walking. Ros would be dead before they even got halfway there.

Thankfully, though, Des spotted the vans they’d arrived in. Hobbling over, he tossed Roscoe inside before rushing to the other side and starting it up. “Just fuckin’ stay awake, asshole. Yous ain’t allowed t’die on me.”

ROSCOE:

Fingers curled tightly into DeSoto's shirt as the man shuffled him up, opposite dropping his shirt back down as his arm wrapped back around his waist. A pained hiss slipped out as he stuttered in his steps again, every movement of his legs just burning at his bones. He had to count himself lucky that his legs weren't broken at least. That he still had some of his wits about him.

Though slowly but surely that was waning too.

Doing his best to assist his brother rather than forcing him to deal with his dead weight, Roscoe positioned himself into the van (where this van came from?? He hadn't a goddamn clue) and let his head fall against the window. Now that the present danger was taken care of, he could feel his body slowly coming back to itself - that adrenaline that had rushed his veins, flooding out and replacing numbness with sharp agonizing pain, stiff soreness and more than enough regret to keep him content for years.

"I'm alright." He tried to say in response to his brother's aggressive concern but the words caught in his throat - a cough stifling them immediately. His chest felt like it was on fire, the tension curling in his stomach and nearly forcing bile into his throat. Gaze caught the small spatter of fresh blood upon his fist and honestly? He couldn't tell if that had simply originated from his split lip or was the source of a far greater problem.

".... —c-call Rita." Roscoe choked out minutes after he'd gone quiet, the fear starting to find a grip on his consciousness as he felt darkness clawing at his mind. Fighting for control as Ros desperately tried to ignore it, to listen to DeSoto's words. It was only when he felt seconds from blacking out that he jammed his hand against the knife wound in his side - the sudden flare of pain waking his senses as a growled curse of pain fell from him. It sure wasn't fucking ideal but… He needed to stay awake.

He needed to live.

DESOTO:

Every few seconds DeSoto’s eyes drifted from the road to his brother. Even though their fight was over, the adrenaline didn’t leave him. Wouldn’t until he was alone and he knew his brother was safe. Or at least being taken care of by qualified people. And even then he didn’t think he’d be able to calm himself. They’d been attacked without warning because they’d let their guards down. Things would have to change. Things would have to be like they were in New York again. But instead of protecting their father, they’d be protecting the people they’d become close to here.

Already DeSoto knew he’d be calling in favors from those he’d met over the years. He’d make sure they weren’t attacked again. The next time New York tried to come here they’d know the second they took off.

Roscoe’s voice brought him out of his thoughts. Rita. Course he wanted her called. It’d be good, though. She could stay with Roscoe while he went out and took care of their protection. He didn’t like the woman but she could serve a purpose.

He waited until the groaning stopped, an affirmation from his brother given, before he called the woman. “Shut up. Get to the hospital. Shut up. I’ll tell you when I get there.” Before the woman had a chance to start that high pitched whining again DeSoto hung up and tossed the phone towards the back. He’d have to get a new one. Hell, they’d all have to get new ones. The last thing they needed was to be tracked.

Tires screeched to a halt as DeSoto finally pulled the van in front of the hospital. Running in, he wasted no time screaming at the people in the front. They gave him worried looks but he waved them off with threats. “Get my brother. Now.”

#c: DeSoto #x; Wayward Sons #tw violence #tw knives #tw injury #tw blood #p: The Man Comes Around

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