#we drink water to fill the hunger bois

[obsessedwithceleste]

Good Things Fall Apart

Theodore Nott x reader

Summary: based on this request🫶🏽 a series of flashbacks spanning the course of your shattered relationship with the infamous Theodore Nott.

word count: 2.4k

The world around you blurs as you stumble hazily over to the circle of sofas surrounding the fireplace of the Slytherin common room. Music is blaring loudly, pumping through your veins as you search the table for another drink.

“Woah there, maybe it’s time we switch you over to water,” Blaise says, hastily grabbing onto your arm to steady you.

“Nuh uh, just saw Theodore’s tongue down some witches throat. Don’t wanna remember anything from tonight,” you slur, grabbing the neck of the first bottle you see and carelessly knocking it back.

The image of Theo leaning against the wall, arms caged around another witch who wasn’t you as he practically devoured her flashed through your mind as you inhaled the burning liquid.

With a heavy sigh, Blaise resigns himself to helping you onto the sofa, slowly lowering you down onto the plush haven and discreetly moving the still half full bottle away from you.

“You seen Daph?” You ask, still far too sober for your liking.

Blaise shakes his head. “She and Pans ran off together ages ago.” He replies, looking at you with pity.

You hated that. When people felt bad for you. Always giving you sorrowful looks and whispering amongst one another.

“What the hell happened between the two of you anyway? I thought you two were all in love or something,” he asks, sitting down lazily next to you as the familiar burn of alcohol scorches your throat once more.

Blaise had no idea where the new bottle had materialized from.

“I thought so too.”

It was a party like this one where you and Theodore had first met. Daphne had invited you to get ready with her and Pansy before hand which had resulted in the three of you being decently buzzed by the time the party was starting. She had giggled about how she was just dying to introduce you to some of the boys she and Pansy had grown up with.

The three of you spent the early stages of the night laughing, dancing, gossiping in the corner, but it wasn’t long before you found yourself alone in the crowd of students, dancing and swaying to the loud, hazy music. You didn’t mind. You loved the feeling of carefree ecstasy that came with blending in with a drunk crowd.

Only you didn’t blend in. At least not to him. His eyes followed you everywhere as you wandered through the throngs of people filling the common room. All the way up to the moment you backed into the tall, brunette, only for him to whisk you off your feet and into his arms where you stayed for the rest of the night.

“Woah, sorry!” You slurred, feeling the heat of another body behind you as you stumbled back out of the way of another couple making a beeline back to the dorms.

Looking up, your eyes met his in a mesmerizing stare as he smirked down at you.

“No worries principessa, I do believe you just fell for me.”

In your drunken state, the corny line was the funniest thing you’d ever heard, and the boy gazes down at you with adoration as you double over with laughter.

You spend the remainder of the party locked in the boys arms, lounging on the sofas overlooking the rest of the crowd.

When his lips aren’t whispering seductively in your ear as he sits wrapped around you, they’re pressed softly against your shoulder, your neck, your throat, and finally your lips.

You remember the addictive feeling of reveling in the boy’s eager attention. Relishing in every electrifying touch, every gentle breath against your skin.

And the hypnotizing way in which he lead you back to his dorm, closing the door swiftly behind you as his eyes darkened with hunger.

You remember feeling scared. Terrified. When you realized what you had done. You didn’t regret it. Of course not. But would he? Would you end up being just another conquest?

Your worries subside that morning however, when strong arms wrap around you once more, pulling you closer, enveloping you in warmth.

“Mine.” The boy murmurs quietly before you both doze off again, basking in each other’s presence.

“There you are! We’ve been searching for you everywhere!” Daphne announces, frolicking over to where you and Blaise had tucked yourselves away to, dragging a very drunk Pansy along behind her.

“Just saw Theo with his latest conquest. That bloody fucking wanker doesn’t know what he lost. I’m bout to whack some sense into that tosser,” Pansy slurs, stumbling over to you and wrapping her arms around you in what is probably supposed to be a comforting hug.

“Thanks Pans, but I think I’d rather not hear about him tonight. Pass me that bottle?” You ask as Pansy happily hands you yet another half full bottle of suspicious liquid.

“Oh that’s so not a healthy coping mechanism,” Daphne mutters, but she doesn’t stop you.

You give the girl a lazy shrug, tipping your drink back.

“Stops me from overthinking,” you reply, slamming the bottle down on the table in front of you.

“Well, we can help with that too. Come on. Sitting here in self pity isn’t any fun. You need to let loose,” Daph replies, dragging you up by one arm while Pansy grabs the other.

You send a desperate look back Blaise’s way, but he only smiles, waving the three of you off.

The pair drag you out into the middle of the packed center of the common room where sweaty bodies are moving in unison to the bass vibrating through the room. Between the deafening music, flashing lights and dark room, the whole place begins to feel surreal.

It doesn’t take long for the three of you to find yourselves lost in the music, belting out lyrics and trying to keep Pansy from falling over. You’re almost able to convince yourself that you’re having a good time when a flash of brown catches your eye.

You turn to see him there. It’s only a moment, but that little glimpse of his eyes burning into you was all you needed to be transported back.

You pull the blanket tighter against you to protect yourself from the cold as you lay with your head cradled comfortably in Theodore’s lap.

It was a cold night to be in the astronomy tower, but it was one of you and Theo’s favorite places, allowing you to stare out into the star filled black abyss.

You loved for moments like these. Quiet moments where you could close your eyes and when you opened them again, you knew Theodore’s eyes would be staring back as if you were the only thing in the world.

You let out a soft breath, watching as the small puff of air disappears into the cold air. It had been a long week.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of your mi amore?” Theo asks, gazing down at you.

“Everything. And nothing I suppose,” you reply.

The two of you had been seeing each other for months now. After the first night the two of you seemed inseparable, constantly seeking each other, you were practically attached at the hip.

Daphne of course was thrilled. She had grown up with Theo and was ecstatic that he was enamored with one of her closest friends. His friends welcomed you with open arms, and you formed a particularly close friendship with one Blaise Zabini. All in all, the two of you fit together with almost perfect ease, slotting into one another’s lives as if you’d been there the whole time.

But it was also the most serious relationship either of you had been in, and it was an especially long one for Theo. And the other girls made sure you knew it. How long would you be able to keep him around? You couldn't possibly be that special.

You had known initially that Theodore had a reputation for making his rounds through Hogwarts’ female population. And you had known that more than one of your classmates had vied for his attention. It hadn't really phased you at the time. You figured that people would move on to the next heart throb. They didn't.

It’s not that they were mean to you necessarily, but they didn’t hide their intentions towards Theodore from anyone either. You did your best to act like it didn't phase you, the blatant attempts to sweep Theo out from under your feet. The entitlement honestly astounded you. But it still stung.

Theo’s approach to it all was willful ignorance. He didn’t care, and he said that neither should you. You were the one he wanted. You tried to believe him. You really did. You wanted to believe him. But there was always a voice in the deep recesses of your mind, reminding you that you were never going to be enough.

Theo’s light hum brought you back to the present as he slowly stroked his fingers through your hair, lulling you back into a calm, serene state. It was a soft side of the boy that he didn’t show often. One that almost made you believe that he meant every word that left his lips when he promised he’d never leave.

“Don’t you worry your pretty head, principessa,” he murmured as your eyes once again fluttered shut.

Blinking quickly you find yourself standing back in the middle of the crowded common room, Daphne and Pansy moving against you in their own little world, entangled in each other’s arms.

Your head was spinning, the effects of all the alcohol really kicking in as your mind raced to make sense of the blurring memories.

You needed to sit down. Or throw up. Or cry. Maybe all of the above.

“I’m going to go find Blaise,” you shout over the music, barely getting the girls’ attention.

“You sure you’ll be alright?” Daphne calls back.

Nodding, you stumble your way through the crowd, pushing past foggy faces of students you couldn’t recognize for the life of you. You didn’t remember this many people ever attending a common room party before. But to be fair, in this state you didn’t remember much at all.

You feel the noise, and the lights, and the growing heat, and the burning scent of alcohol of your breath, and the throngs of people begin to overwhelm you as you scan the crowd wildly looking for where Blaise had wandered off to. He really was an elusive bastard when he wanted to be.

Mind buzzing and eyes flickering desperately around the room, it only takes a moment for a group of girls to rush past you and you feel yourself stumbling back. Then the warm body behind you. And then the strong arms holding you upright.

You look up with alarm and your eyes meet his once more.

You can feel yourself trembling as you stare down at the boy in front of you, sitting on his bed with a look of pure apathy on his face.

You were back in Theo’s dorm. A place that had once felt warm and welcoming now was icy cold as the two of you just stared at each other, locked in a stalemate. You could feel in the pit of your stomach that this wouldn’t end well.

“You really don’t see why I’m upset?” You ask finally, not able to stand the silence any longer.

“I understand perfectly why you’re upset. I just don’t think you should be.” Theo replies, leaning back carelessly.

“Theodore, she kissed you! Right in front of me!” You yell, looking at Theo as if he’d grown an extra head.

“And I walked away!” Theo retorts, rolling his eyes.

“You never stand up for me! Not once have you ever stood up for me in all these months. You just let it happen and expect me to be fine with it because what? You don’t care? Do you know how blatantly disrespectful it is to literally kiss someone else’s boyfriend right in front of them? And then you do nothing! What is wrong with you? Why?” You cry the pent up frustration finally getting to you.

How could he possibly not understand?

“I’m defending you by not engaging! None of them matter, just ignore them!”

“You’re doing nothing! Would it kill you to just tell them to stop? Just once?”

“It’s not like I’m encouraging it!”

“Well you’re certainly not stopping it!” You feel the tears well up in your eyes as they begin slowly pouring down your face.

What was truly so hard about this concept that he couldn’t grasp?

“Why are you being so fucking dramatic?”

“Why are you acting like you hate me?”

“Because I hate the fact that you’re blowing this whole thing out of proportion!”

“Well what did you want me to do? Not say anything? Just carry on like my feelings don’t mean anything?” You ask, the hot stream of tears refusing to stop as you continue to stare at the boy.

Theo lets out an agitated sigh, his head falling back in frustration.

“Obviously your feelings matter,” he groans, obviously over the conversation. But you weren’t.

“Obviously not to you.” You snap done with the entire situation. Done with feeling like nothing you did was enough. Done with pretending you didn’t see the other girls fawning over your boyfriend. Done with your boyfriend ignoring how you felt. Just done.

The tears finally roll to a stop and with one last shake of your head, you turn and begin walking towards the door.

“Don’t-“ you hear Theo call.

Slowly, you turn to face the boy.

“Don’t what?” You ask, waiting for the boy to ask you to stay. To not leave. Anything.

You’re met with silence.

Without another word, you turn once more, the door thudding closed behind you.

“Sorry,” you mumble, pulling yourself from Theo’s arms as he continues to stare down at you, arms falling lifelessly to his side.

“Careful, or someone might think you fell for me,” he murmurs, his voice sending chills down your spine.

“Yeah? Well it’s a good thing I didn’t,” you reply, pushing past him. You feel his eyes follow you as you continue stumbling your way back to the dorms. Only when the door is securely shut and you’re wrapped tightly in blankets do you allow the tears to start flowing once more.

Sometimes good things really did have to fall apart.

They asked for angst y'all

On a totally separate note- I found this song on a playlist called "Frat songs that could resurrect me"- I don't know what business this song has doing on that playlist, but it hits

#Spotify #theodore nott fic #theodore nott #theo nott #slytherin boys #theo nott x reader #blaise zabini #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott fanfiction #theo nott fanfiction #theodore nott x yn #harry potter #slytherin #hogwarts

[margokesses]

Cannot stop thinking about thresh and reaper in the hunger games movie. Two black boys who are shown to really strong and could easily take out the other tributes. And how they're precieved as violent because of it.

But when they enter the arena they're seen as the exact opposite. The only death that we see thresh take on screen is clove bc she kept bragging about rue's death. Which we can tell hurt him bc if you look at scenes before the games he seems to be protective of her. And he could have easily killed katniss but he spares her life because katniss humanized rue.

And with reaper. We're told that he killed a peacekeeper in his district and he threatens snow but in the arena its shown that the only thing he cares about is protecting dill. He even defends her from attackers in the beginning and tells her to stick by his side.

And I cannot stop thinking about rue's death. And how although it is violent (a spear through her body) it's not shown in a grotesque way (I don't think we even see blood when she pulls it out). And with dill it's a similar situation. A girl with tuberculosis who drinks water that she doesn't know is filled with rat poison. And when she drinks it she doesn't convulse or do anything dramatic she just lays down and dies.

And I can't stop thinking about how those deaths are instantly humanized. Katniss and reaper both scream in anger when they find out about it. They cry about it. And then they instantly mourn her. Katniss stays with rue until the end and sings with her until she passes and then gathers flowers to give her a proper burial. And it's the same with dill. Reaper grabs her body (and the other tributes and removes their weapons) and he covers them with the flag of the capitol. To show that they're the cause of tributes deaths.

And then katniss and reaper bodly faces the camera and expresses disdain for what's going on. Katniss raises the 3 finger salute and reaper screams "are you gonna punish me now??"

And I cannot stop thinking about how when thresh dies you don't see any of it you just hear screams. And when marcus is in the arena he is tied up and beaten and shown as an example bc he ran away and he could have easily died a violent death from the other tributes. But he is given a mercy killing by another tribute. And when Jessup dies. It's because he has rabies from protecting Lucy gray from the bats on the train. But he also dies in a non violent way bc he was given water to scare him away and he just ends up accidently falling. And how when reaper dies its him being engulfed in snakes because he finally accepted his fate.

And idk this probably doesn't make sense bc it's currently 4am in the morning but as a Black fan I am glad that in a world where my people are constantly dehumanized and our graphic deaths are released in video format for the world to see and be desentized too....

It's nice to not see anything violent and dehumanizing about us in a series about kids dying to the death. Like everyone knows that the black kids are gonna die but they could have done something really violent with them and it's nice to not see that happen.

#the hunger games #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #reaper ash #thresh #rue #jessup diggs #marcus #dill #hush ke #my only critique is the colorism in rue and dill casting but that's a topic for another time

[rose-pearls]

Watching you go - Part 7

Previous part - Next Part

The beeping of a machine wakes you up, as your eyes start to flutter open you manage to see a door. The rest of the room is still blurry, but you can’t help but feel scared, not knowing where you are. The machine starts making more sounds as you try to get up, but you aren’t able to.

“Hey, hey lie down.”, someone tells you and you just have time to see Katniss Everdeen’s mother before you get pushed back into the bed.

“You are safe.”, she tells you after a moment, but you still feel scared, an unknown environment around you.

“Where am I?”, you ask her, your voice just barely there and she immediately brings a glass of water to your mouth, helping you drink it before answering you.

“District thirteen. You were saved from the arena.”, right, you had been in the 75th hunger games and now you were apparently in a district that had been bombarded.

“Where is Peeta?”, she looks at you sadly, pity in her eyes and you try to ask her again but a lump in your throat stops you for a moment.

“Where?”, you ask her again, the words as clear as day.

--

Haymitch doesn’t know what he is doing, the boy had sacrificed himself because he wanted to protect her and apparently him. But he knew deep down that the girl would have rather had Peeta by her side then her estranged father.

The hovercraft had been filled with a long silence, Peeta’s absence had caused that, and they were all hoping they would be able to save the two people in there. In the end they did, Gale was the most aware of the two and the girl had been in shock from her last encounter with the district two boy.

She had practically fell to the ground, but Haymitch had gotten her just in time before she fell on her head and whispered softly that she was safe before giving her some morphling.

Since then, they had been in district thirteen, waiting for her to heal from her wounds and to find the right moment to save Peeta. Katniss had been the face of the rebellion and as much as Haymitch tried to help her, he had been stuck worrying about his daughter and Peeta. If all of that wasn’t enough there was the situation between Johanna and Finnick that didn’t help, Johanna seemed to avoid the man while he was trying to follow her like a lost puppy or ignoring her.

They were at dinner that night, trying to keep a conversation going because otherwise they would all get lost in old memories that they didn’t want to talk about when the news came.

“Abernathy.”, he turned around to see soldier looking at them with uninterest in his eyes before turning back towards Haymitch.

“She is awake.”, he didn’t need to be told twice, so he quickly got up and left the mess hall with Finnick and Johanna following him, Katniss and Gale not far behind.

The hospital med bay had been chaotic when they arrived in district thirteen but now it seemed far too calm. May Everdeen comes out of a room and looks at them with a sad gaze, the girl knew.

“I just told her, she is processing the news.”, she tells them quietly and Haymitch feels sick at the thought. 

“Well, someone needs to get in there and talk to her or are we going to stay here all day?”, Johanna says suddenly and Haymitch has never felt more grateful for her bluntness. 

“I’ll go, then Gale?”, the man in question agrees and Haymitch takes a deep breath before opening the door.

She looks pale, her eyes looking haunted as she stares at the wall. The thin hospital gown shows the weight she has lost in the arena and Haymitch can only hope she will gain it back.

“I’m not angry at you, if that is what you are wondering.”, she says quietly, her voice filled with sadness, and he closes his eyes for a moment.

“I didn’t know he was going to sacrifice himself. We were at the end of the tunnel and peacekeepers arrived and before I knew it, he left my side.”, he know he is rambling, but for the first time in the 25 years after his games he is at loss of words. A tear falls down her cheek and Haymitch feels the guilt coming back, telling him that he should have been the one taken away.

“You couldn’t have done anything, Peeta has always been determined. Once he sets his mind on something he does it. This time it was saving you.”, her voice is breaking over the words and Haymitch takes a step closer to her.

“It should have been me.”, he says after a moment, and she scoffs.

“It shouldn’t have been anyone. Not you, not him, no one.”, her voice is cold, but there isn’t a doubt in her voice as she tells him that.

“He made his choice and even though it hurts like hell we have to live with it.”, she says, looking like she is trying to convince herself through the words.

“I just don’t know how I’m going to be able to.”, she whispers before a sob leaves her lips and tears fall down her cheeks. He is quick to be by her side and holding her in his arms, trying to reassure her but her sobs grow louder, holding onto him like he is her lifeline.

--

The ruins that are left are small, covered in plants and other things but you enjoy the sight of it. The fresh air brings some peace as you walk through the woods, Johanna is by your side and the rest is walking a bit further away, leaving the two of you to talk.

“So, how does it feel to be out of the hell hole?”, she asks, and you can’t help but chuckle at her words.

“The arena or district thirteen?”, Johanna smiles at your answer and looks at you for a moment.

“Both.”, the answer leaves you thinking, you hadn’t really had the time to think about the arena, the only time you really came face to face with it was in your nightmares.

“The arena feels like a nightmare, not like I was actually in there.”, Johanna hums at your answer and you let out a sigh before looking around.

“And district thirteen is still a mystery, although far too many rules for my taste.”, she snorts at your answer, and you can’t help but laugh at her reaction.

“The only thing they have are rules, I mean giving you a certain number of minutes to pee is really too far.”, the two of you laugh at the ridiculous rules that district thirteen had somehow created before a silence takes over.

“How are things with Finnick?”, you can’t help but ask, and Johanna immediately tenses at the name before letting out a sigh.

“There isn’t really anything happening. He told me that he couldn’t be with me, and I couldn’t keep putting myself on the line. I thought that taking some time away from each other would make him realize that he has feelings for me, but it seems to make him happy to be apart.”, she looks defeated, like nothing good will happen and you can’t help but feel bad for her.

“He needs time to heal from Annie, but it wasn’t fair to you to keep you on the side.”, Johanna snorts at the words and she shakes her head silently.

“I just want him to react, to do something to show me that he cares.”, she tells you and you can’t help but understand, the feeling of hopelessness. 

“Why don’t you show him that he could lose you?”, Johanna looks at you slightly confused before you explain her a bit further.

“When Peeta came back from the games, he was so focused on protecting me that he would forget I was actually there. It wasn’t until Finnick started to flirt with me and realizing that I was going into an arena that Peeta realized he could lose me.”, a flash of understanding appears in her eyes and the two of you stop walking for a moment.

“I don’t say this often, but you are smart. I just need to find someone to flirt with, make him a bit scared that I could be moving on and then he will be much more alert.”, you smile at her smirk before looking at her slightly worried.

“Don’t push it too far though, he cares for you and is just scared.”, you tell her softly and her eyes soften a bit at the words.

“I know, it will just be to shake him up a bit.”, she promises you before turning back towards the rest of the group that had stopped a bit further away.

“How are you holding up?”, she asks hesitantly.

“I’ve been better, still miss him. Sometimes I want to see him just so I could slap him for what he did and every time I just want to take him into my arms and never let go.”, you tell her after a moment of silence, looking at the sky while walking.

“To be honest I would kill him in your place.”, she tells you and you can’t help but laugh at her words, feeling a bit lighter at her words and she looks at you with a mischievous grin.

“Thank you, Jo.”, she looks slightly surprised, but a soft smile appears at your words.

“Anytime.”, the rest of the group is already sat down as you approach, and you join them, listening to the conversation around you.

--

“Peeta is alive.”, are the first words you hear as you come back from outside, Coin had asked for all of you to come by her office after that.

“What do you mean?”, Haymitch asks, and you can only nod, feeling like the world has crumbled form under your feet. 

“Snow did some propaganda and he appeared in it.”, she tells you calmly and you manage to take hold of a chair before practically falling on it.

“We need to get him out of there.”, you manage to say but Coin quickly starts saying the reasons why they wouldn’t be able to do such things.

Haymitch and the rest are quick to answer, telling her all the reasons why they should save him, but you aren’t able to talk.

He’s alive. Peeta, your Peeta. He’s alive and he is being held by the Capitol.

“I am not risking the lives of my men and women for one victor.”, she says harshly, and the words make you look up.

“What if we go?”, everyone looks at you surprised but you just look at Coin.

“Send us, the victors and tributes and that way you don’t need to send your army. Plus, it will be a nice little propaganda, right Plutarch?”, the man starts saying all the reasons why it would be a great move, but you don’t listen, only looking at Coin.

“Fine, I will let some of the victors go. But you are staying here, you are too close to the prisoner to think clearly there.”, her words are final, and you don’t try to argue with her, too scared that you would run out of luck.

“We need a distraction while we go in there.”, Gale says and the rest of the group nods in answer.

“I can provide it.”, Finnick says, and you all turn to look at him, slightly surprised.

“I know a lot of secrets and it’s about time everyone knows what Snow did with the victors.”, there is uncertainty in his eyes, but he looks determined.

“Good, Beetee and Wiress will make sure there is time for you to talk and that way the others can get the boy out.”, Haymitch says, and the rest of the night is spent planning every single detail to the mission.

“Get a good night of sleep, we are striking tomorrow.”, Coin says before dismissing all of you.

The main group leaves towards their quarters but you don’t want to go back there just yet, so you enter the mess hall, for once calm.

“We will save him.”, you hear Haymitch say, and you turn to look at him with a soft smile.

“I hope so.”, you tell him, unable to feel completely at ease with everything that will happen.

“It will be alright, you won’t have to learn to live without him anymore.”, he whispers after a moment, and you can’t help but take a deep breath at his words.

“I think I was starting to learn, but I’m glad I don’t have to anymore.”, you whisper and Haymitch nods slowly, a look of understanding in his eyes.

“Trust the process sweetheart.”, he tells you and the only thing you are able to do is stay right there. 

You don’t get a wink of sleep, waiting for the clock to strike the time the team has to leave and after that all hope of sleep is gone. The only thing you can do is hope that Peeta will be saved and that no one will die.

Thank you for all the comments and appreciation!! I'm sorry this took so long but I was watching Queen Charlotte and I am obsessed with Brimsley and Reynolds, couldn't get them out of my head!

Taglist: @wannapizzamymindposts, @experiencebeinanamericanwh0re, @capswife, @star-of-velaris, @simpinformunson, @nobody7102, @r1dd1kulus, @primscat, @fishfetus, @jellybear455, @ghostieraccoons, @inky-sun

#the hunger games #hunger games fanfiction #hunger games x reader #the hunger games peeta #thg peeta #peeta mellark x reader #peeta x reader #peeta mellark #i love peeta

[salaapaoo]

I love de-aged Cale and I will NEVER shut up about it !!!

What if he gets deaged as a result of the group finding some beat up spell books and randomly trying them out one by one?

The smoke clears and they're faced with a tiny red headed boy with a piercing stare who doesn't respond to the name Cale.

Immediately, Choi Han comes to the realization and softly calls out a "Roksoo?" Which switches the boys attention to him instead.

"...how do you know my name?" His voice is barely above a whisper, and the group is holding their breaths in fear of drowning out their friend's voice.

Choi Han crouches down and tries to lie, spewing out some bs about how they know his parents ! But it all comes out so badly and they all have to refrain from smacking the back of his head or face palming. He thought it would make the kid feel better... But all he did was sound like some pervert trying to kidnap kids.

The look on the boys face gets colder, "don't lie to me. I'm not stupid. Now, who are you?"

Rosalyn bends down to his eye level and explains that he had been hit by a spell, and how it's probably hard to believe, but this was the "future" for him.

Roksoo pauses, deep in thought, before giving her a curt nod. There's literally a dragon flying around him... Time traveling or being wisked away to a parallel universe couldn't be too far off.

-

They spend the day trying to fill him in on who everyone is and how they know him. His eyes sparkle at the fairytale-like adventures they tell him about. If this is fake... At least it's interesting.

-

Eventually the kids all get bored of the formalities of getting him up to date, filling in the henituse family, calling the crown prince, and so on.

Hong jumps up with a sparkle in his eyes, "let's go show Hyung around our home!!" Now's the chance! They can play with him all they want because he has no responsibilities to do!!

They show him their rooms, pulling out heavy piggy banks and all their treasures and toys. Roksoo feels a pang of jealousy that he immediately brushes away, a whisper of "how nice" in the back of his head.

Raon drags him along to Rosalyn's lab, proudly displaying the mage's discoveries and current studies. There's vials of luminescent liquids surrounded by pages upon pages full of loopy writing. He can't read it for some reason. How weird. Plants he's never seen fill a corner of the room, their leaves billowing out towards a massive arching window. Everything he's seen so far is just so beautiful, so colourful. Life back home is just... Bleak. Nothing at home was ever this warm.

By the end of the tour they make it to the courtyard where everyone had been waiting. The three kids turn towards him with a glimmer in their eyes, before reaching out to take his hands.

"now we can play!!" They cheer, excited to show roksoo all their favourite games and toys.

"you want me to play?" He's never been allowed to play with the other kids before.

"do you wanna play dragon says?"

Roksoo scuffs his feet against the dirt, his eyes glued to the ground. He feels dumb.

"I don't know.." His voice soft and his eyes still turned downwards. He's scared to look back at them. Truthfully, he doesn't know how to play. He knows how to work, how to keep quiet, how to drink enough water so the hunger stops hurting for a bit... but he doesn't know how to play. The adults didn't like it when he played. Only good kids got to play.

The three share worried glances before asking if he's alright.

"I haven't been good though" he meets their eyes for a split second before ripping his gaze away, "only good kids get to play."

In seconds, they burst out in reassurances, demanding to know who said he wasn't good. Raon firmly and loudly tells him that he is the goodest human there ever can be. That no one else will ever beat him in goodness. Something crumbles inside him and roksoo finds his eyes feeling warm. He doesn't like crying. It's hard to be quiet when he's crying and holding his breath to muffle the sounds only makes him dizzy and feel worse.

-

Tbc??? Idk

#tcf cale #tcf fic idea #tcf fic #tcf #lcf #cale henituse #trash of the count's family #lout of the count’s family #kim roksoo #kim rok soo #kim roksu #fic ideas #salaapaoo fic ideas #salaapaoo

[mylevisdontfitanymore]

HELP I can't stop thinking about this fic: https://www.tumblr.com/mylevisdontfitanymore/689619340309446656?source=share and how maybe after Andy has had his fill and is finally done fucking Ransom he spends the rest of the night pumping him full of more alcohol and food and maybe he spends the entire rest of the cruise out of his mind as Andy's drunken plaything, too stuffed and bloated to move far from the bed without lots of help, too drunk to think about anything but his stomach and how much more of everything he wants and always available for Andy to fuck when he pleases

@achubbydumpling Ransom × Andy dark fic, "A Little Extra: Cruise Ship"

I mean… fucking SAME

I remember when Dumpling first wrote and posted that and we had a lengthy conversation about some darker scenarios for that pairing. So, this chaotic, horny drabble will be heavily inspired by that interaction. Thank you for the inspiration Dumpling, as always ❤️

Unbeta'd, warning for dark Ransom × Andy, intox kink, alcohol consumption, mentioned of past non-con/dub-con, free-use, stuffing, weight gain, humiliation/fat shaming, etc.

Andy can’t honestly be blamed for what he does because… have you seen Ransom? That soft, pale skin and pretty, pink mouth with an especially plump bottom lip; those big blue eyes, most often lit with a challenge and dare; his expensive clothes tailored to fit his body. He’s irresistible normally. But, better yet, have you seen Ransom when he’s drunk and messy? Anyone would do anything to have that rich brat when he’s sloshed.

Drunk Ransom and his fat, round belly full of all the alcohol he’s been downing like it’s water. Andy doesn’t even need to encourage him so much, his greedy nature from growing up in the high life does it for Andy. Ransom simply drains bottles and bottles without caring about anything, not the price of the smooth liquor or spectacle of his expanding waistline, his belly bloating right out of his luxurious, perfectly tailored clothes until he’s so full and round - his skin pulled so impressively taut - that he may as well be a walking keg or even a walking, really waddling, barrel. Almost audibly sloshing with too many drinks. It’s a fucking miracle if Andy lets him walk anywhere, though. His slight exhibitionism, his hunger to see the stares of disbelief at such a huge, sloshed brat, is overridden by the possessive fire inside him to keep Ransom.

He wants to keep Ransom full, bloated and packed to the point that he’s stuck on his back, and he wants to keep Ransom to himself. He wants him as a pet. An obedient pet that will do anything he wants, like, for example, drink another bottle and chase the alcohol with soft, pillowy carbs that will drink the liquid inside him and expand further. Andy wants to get him to the point that his stomach is really struggling, creaking and gurgling with how bloated it is.

Here’s the thing, though: Ransom may come off like a bitch and a brat to everyone after being spoiled his entire life but, he metaphorically (and now literally) has the softest underbelly that Andy who, oppositely, appears to be sweet and doting and soft once as the ideal family man but Andy has this very dark side, hidden from most people he encounters. It’s not hidden from Ransom. That dark side is lured out by Ransom. There’s just… something so irresistible about Ransom. Andy can’t stop himself from taking advantage of Ransom. It’s hardly his fault, though, with how much rich boy is asking for it - stumbling around, drinking, and fixing him with those fiery eyes.

Andy has a habit of only having a few drinks here and there, so he barely gets tipsy when he does drink, and this habit works to his advantage now, leaving him with a near completely clear, sober mind to admire this messy, uncoordinated prince… all doughy and spoiled. He’s never done a damn thing besides sit on his ass. (And, fuck yes, would you look at that! He’s got a fucking fat ass. All shapely. Nice and round and wide. Andy wants to sink his teeth into it.) Besides, Ransom’s rich fat. He takes the time to always work lotion into his skin and wax and get massages and, just, otherwise take immaculate care of himself. So, he doesn’t have any stretch marks anywhere on his body. He only has pale, soft, plump, and doughy fat. He’s lush. Smooth. So easy on the eyes and perfect underhand. No stretch marks anywhere on his soft body… not until he meets Andy.

Andy, as we know, can’t resist and he takes advantage of his pale, unmarred body and claims it for himself. Andy fucks him hard and leaves hickies on his puffy tits, thick thighs, and absolute shelf of an ass but, of course, those bitten-in marks don’t hold a candle to the permanent marks Andy makes on Ransom. Andy will have Ransom to himself. He will keep him. And he will claim what’s his by stuffing and bloating Ransom until he’s literally on the cusp of bursting. Funneling alcohol and liquor and spirts and anything that leaves his sweet mouth loose and slurring into him. Stuffing any kind of food down his throat, too. Watching ethusastically as it all stretches his skin so badly, leaving lengthy, obvious, red marks all over his previously spotless body and ruining his body.

Jesus.

Ruining his body. The thought of being the one to ruin Ransom makes Andy feral like nothing else. It feeds into his darkness, making him only want to stuff him worse and ruin him worse and… it goes on and on.

Ransom gets that way, ruined, by being kept as a little pet for Andy. It goes beyond the cruise. Andy snatches Ransom up and just won’t let him go.

At first, when Ransom surfaces from the night after Andy drugged him and used him when he was so full and sloshing he was fucking pissed at Andy. Seeing red. Seething and baring his teeth. But. Also… damn it, he gets it. Through his pounding headache, waking up entirely naked with his legs spread wide and slutty underneath the weight of his desperately full bladder and still bloated stomach, he comes to the conclusion that he knows that he would’ve done the same if presented with such an opportunity. A poor, little thing wandering the ship bloated and wanting to indulge so badly that they’re willing to go to dinner with a stranger, stuffing themselves, helpless as a baby deer under the drugs slipped into their system… Ransom licks his lips.

Yeah.

He’s equally fucked up.

C’mon, he’s rich - if he sees something he wants, he gets it. It’s that way with people, too, not just things. He could see how if he couldn’t charm or bribe his way into someone’s pants as usual, he might just get them drunk enough that they’re easy and pliable to have what he wants from them. It just so happens that when that was used on him, it unlocked his spoiled hedonism and he couldn’t stop pigging out. So…

He doesn’t blame Andy. He can’t stay mad, even if it feels like he’s pulled a fucking muscle with how big he got (and still is), puffed up tight and round on alcohol and sugar. Rich boy has never been sore before. He’s not familiar. He could be though. It’s achy and throbby and… he kind of likes how it feels. It feels like a job well done. He’s pushed himself so much that he’s made himself sore. Damn.

With Ransom not only not pissed but also into it, they develop A Thing.

Specifically, a relationship based on free use and indulgence.

Andy is the one in control and Ransom is the one giving himself over to be stuffed and fucked and filled. Anything Andy wants to do to him. Anyway Andy wants to fill him. Ransom aches and throbs for it, craving the fullness and heaviness now that he’s had it once - chasing the high.

So, Andy keeps Ransom drunk whenever he doesn’t need to be present in reality for his responsibilities. Which are… what exactly? Ransom doesn’t work, not thanks to that multigenerational wealth, so there are not many times he has to be sober for “responsibilities.” He has a whole fucking team of people managing everything about his life (his “babysitters” according to Andy’s mocking laughter), meaning more than anything else, he’s nice and full. Well. Usually, if he’s how Andy wants him he’s painfully full. Sloshy yet packed tight. His stomach made into a water balloon.

And that’s where most of those stretch marks come from.

Poor baby. He gets all marked up so fast! Aw. 🙄

As established, Ransom has lived the high life since he was born, he’s always been fed the best foods and drinks and hasn’t had to work a day in his life, so he’s always been soft. His slowing teenage metabolism has left him puffy. Not quite yet chubby, but certainly on his way with his problem controlling himself and his appetite for, well, everything. But then Andy comes crashing into his life and feeds him and feeds him and feeds him, and Ransom is growing fatter faster than he ever could’ve on his own. Faster than he ever would’ve dared. Ransom is pretty vain. He wanted to stay in shape and “presentable” but he can’t. He can’t help himself. And Andy sure as hell won’t help him. He’ll just pop the cork to another wine bottle and hand it over, making sure to lift the end of the bottle when Ransom tries to stop and catch his breath. He wants him to down the entire thing. Chug it. Now.

Despite all the alcohol that should give Ransom a solid, hard beer gut, Ransom continues to pack on butter-soft fat. Soft, plush fat that can be felt when he’s not drum-tight from impossibly high levels of fullness.

Andy doesn’t care about Ransom’s pleasure in their arrangement of free use. He only cares about his own. Just like that first night when they encountered each other. He’s focused on himself. Fucking Ransom’s pasty, doughy thighs, then his clenching, tight little hole. Dumping him onto the bed and having his way with him, completely unrestrained.

During bloating and/or stuffing sessions, the pained groans Ransom gives, the way he clutches at his expanding, tight gut desperately, or his attempts to jerk his head away from a new bottle or another spoonful of a rich, decadent dessert do nothing to stop Andy. He can complain and squirm as much as he wants but it’s not gonna change the fact that he’s only done when Andy is satisfied. He’s his pet and his toy. He’s Andy’s to play with and use and ruin however he wants. All the new stretch marks Ransom develops appear seemingly overnight and appear very early on in their arrangement. The marks are dark and intense, his poor skin is literally splitting open with the pressure of all that food and alcohol in his belly. He whines and tries hard to soothe them with lotion and ice and heating packs, but it does nothing. Andy doesn’t care until he does. When he does, it’s because he’s getting off on it. Getting off and splattering them with come.

New stretch marks along with the rapid explosion of buttery soft fat on Ransom’s frame are just more evidence of that little fact… this isn’t about Ransom’s pleasure; it’s about Andy’s.

Andy is shamelessly using him.

Actually, if anything, the stretch marks, groans, whimpers, and visible discomfort, even pain, when Ransom is being used especially roughly turn Andy on. Fuck, look how much control I have over Ransom. Look how willing my rich, bitchy boy toy is to eat for me. Drink for me. Look at how he can’t stop me. Ransom heels. He surrenders. He’s so fucking easy and pathetic and that’s why Andy had to have him that first night, drugging him to get it.

Pathetic and needy.

It’s so easy for Ransom to fall into that mindset of being used up. Ruined. Controlled. He enjoys being Andy’s pet and fuck toy so much. It starts against his will, yeah, but it’s also everything he’s ever wanted. It’s not about his pleasure but… also, it is. He’s being spoiled and taken care of and pampered. He’s nearly always blackout drunk but that’s just a little detail. It doesn’t matter that much, most people in high society have alcohol problems behind closed doors anyway! Andy isn’t doing anything totally terrible. He’s just getting Ransom where he was bound to end up anyway, speed-running the debauchery of being so grossly rich.

Sure, when Ransom is lucid enough to think (a true rarity), he tells himself that he doesn’t want the weight that comes with the indulgence but it has to stay because he can’t separate the two. But, that’s not how it really is. Rich boy is lying to himself. And that’s nothing new.

It’s a lie because he can’t help it when he’s sober, when he’s tipsy, when he’s drunk, when he’s high, anything, he grabs his belly, his thighs, his moobs, any part of his suddenly much fatter body he can reach. He grabs himself. He wants it. He wants to feel it. He wants to see his body jiggle and move as he jerks off or tries to pitifully bounce on Andy’s cock only to find it to be too much work, going back to just lying there with the room spinning, letting Andy do all the heavy lifting. It’s fine. It’s great! Even if he tells himself he “doesn’t like it,” he doesn’t like gaining weight, it doesn’t matter. Andy is forcing him into it. There’s no guilt. Just indulgence. Just pounds piling onto his overburdened frame.

And… with the acceptance that he can’t stop, he’s only going to grow bigger and bigger and bigger until (or if) Andy decides to stop, Ransom is completely, wholly a rich pet. He sits on his ass, never lifting a finger, only getting fatter and fatter. Being fed all day, rolling around and jerking himself off if and when Andy has to leave to go to work or get more groceries or… whatever it is that he still has to do himself because he can’t pay one of his countless personal assistants to do it for him as his pet can. Disgustingly rich and shameless, detached from the everyday person’s lifestyle.

However, their exploitative dynamic gets worse and worse better and better until Andy has Ransom trained to only orgasm when he’s being fed or bloated. It started with Ransom’s love of having anything in his mouth. He’s always enjoyed fingers in his mouth, or cock or pussy in his mouth during sex - coming faster when he has something to occupy his plush lips - but it’s transformed. Andy exploits his oral fixation, perverting it until no matter how much Ransom tries to jerk himself off under his overflowing belly or reaches around his wide blubber to finger himself until he’s shaking, sweating, and whining from the unprecedented hard work, he can’t reach his climax. He can’t come until he’s being fed or bloated. He needs something being forced down his throat! He goes without (a long time for him, a few hours, but a pathetically short amount of time for literally anyone else) until he can’t and he slurs through begging words. Please, please, please, I need sugar! I need carbs! I need fat! I need alcohol! I need to come!

Then…

Andy makes it worse.

He always does.

Worse and worse and worse. Using him. Ruining him.

Andy forces Ransom to go from needing something edible in his mouth to needing his gut to be full, too. He needs something in his mouth and he needs his belly full. He’s so used to constantly being drunk and pigged out that when he isn’t, instinctually, all he’s thinking about is food and alcohol. More. He wants more. He has to be comfortable at his baseline.

And his baseline has become warped to the “comfort” of being painfully full, so packed and tight that new stretch marks are on the way.

Then, and only then, bloated like a beached whale, can he come.

Pathetic.

Also - as if Ransom needs more, the greedy bitch - Andy loves to dress Ransom up in luxury clothes. Andy gets hard from putting him in everything from panties and corsets and stockings and heels to full, classic suits. Slacks. Belts. Waistcoats. Jackets. Always Andy uses Ransom’s money - extensively using the passcodes he gave him to get into his bottomless bank accounts - and then stuffs and bloats him until he bursts out of his brand-new clothes. Immediately ruined and in need of replacement. The expensive fabric is nothing but scraps once they’re done with it. Rips and tears from fat bulging through, buttons missing, popped off from all the pressure, ladders in stretched stockings caused by widening hips and thighs.

And Ransom loves it. Of course, he’s ended up growing out of all his clothes… again. He wants to do it more, too. Please. The greed is on a constant loop in his mind, only intensified when Andy is near, pleading, feed me, feed me, feed me. Feed me! Feed me!

Ransom’s only known indulgence and luxury his entire life. He’s the worst kind of glutton. Always has been.

So it’s really not surprising to anyone from his old life - rich family and stuck-up “friends” - that he’s blown up like a balloon, even if they all make nasty comments about his gain. Unafraid to shame him, mocking him to his face as well as behind his back. Asking him if he really needs to eat all of that when they lunch together. Raising eyebrows when each and every time they see Ransom, he’s in new, larger clothes. Telling him to hurry up when they stroll, and he waddles through the many rooms of a mansion estate or the garden outside, side by side. Pestering Ransom about going to see a doctor because the baby should’ve come a few months ago, shouldn’t it have? Or simply outright telling him that he’s too fat and it’s embarrassing - threatening to cut him off or write him out of wills if he doesn’t slim back down to their expectations. They have standards. They have reputations to uphold. They can’t be seen with such a slob.

A pig.

When they say those terrible things to Ransom’s face, Andy might be comforting... if he feels like it. But usually, he’s demeaning, too.

Ransom lives for it. He gets some shivery enjoyment from people from his own walk of life shaming him, but it’s nothing like the pleasure of having the man who corrupted him shame him and then keep fucking ruining him. It’s the finest kind of head-spinning depravity. Always with some new way to make fun of him…

“Of course, they said that, pet,” Andy drawls, his accent really coming through when he’s turned on. “Did you forget to look in the mirror before you left the house?” He grabs his face and squishes his chubby chin and cheeks, “speaking of… you’re about the size of a house these days,” he grins.

Ransom whimpers at the same time that his tummy growls - it’s far from empty, but, whenever someone talks about his weight, it just makes him hungry. Hungrier. He’s always hungry. You can’t stretch his stomach to the size that it is without a voracious appetite.

Or…

Andy snorts, “can’t blame them for asking who tailors you’re clothes, can you, Rans? No one in high-end fashion makes clothes the size of tents.” He pulls at the soft sweater he’s wearing, the knit thick and making him look even thicker and softer. “They expect their wealthy patrons to know better than regular, working, and middle-class people, pet. They know the rich will stay thinner because they’re vain. That, or, you know, get the fat sucked out of them, going all plastic.”

Ransom moans around the beer bottle between his lips, he doesn’t stop swallowing more of the malty, flavorful drink, though. He can’t stop. Andy is right. There’s so much about the high life that requires so much self-control. Ransom has never had self-control. He can’t. He can’t control himself. He needs more.

Or…

“Aw, pet, were they making fun of you again?”

Ransom nods, pouting.

Andy just sighs, happily satisfied, “telling you you better get your eating under control, hm?”

Again, he nods.

“Imagine that… anyone thinking you are the one in control. You’re just a sweet, brainless little pet. Well. Not little. Not anymore,” he chuckles, and Ransom pants, his gut too heavy on his lungs. “They don’t know I’m the one fattening you up,” he pinches his ass filthily until Ransom squeaks, “this is mine. I fucking built this ass. But they don’t know that, pet. And they don’t even question it. Isn’t that wonderful, piggy? You’re so greedy they don’t even think about foul play. They just assume it’s your nature and you got hugely fat all by yourself.”

Ransom feels hot, his head is spinning again, and his vision is blurry as if he’s been afflicted by a sudden fever. They’re only in the next room over, taking a breather before they go and mingle with more of Ransom’s family. Ransom doesn’t give a fuck about his family (he never really has), but he especially doesn’t give a fuck right now. Right now he wants Andy to feel up his belly and jerk him off. Now. He’s so fucking horny. It’s hard enough to be sober for so long, acutely aware of every pound of fat on him, how he jiggles and moves, without anything to numb him, but when he’s being teased about it, too? Meanly by his family and meanly 🥵 by his fucking owner and feeder?

Fuck.

He’s too fucking hornyyyy.

“You want out of those clothes tonight, pet?” Andy tugs at the straining fabric of his waistcoat, barely holding around his rotund middle, the buttons this close to pulling apart so much that gaps form, exposing his dress shirt underneath.

Ransom nods eagerly, completely breathless at the thought (not that that’s a hard thing to achieve when he’s so severely restricted).

Andy tips his head to the side, indicating a passing server with champagne flukes on their elegantly balanced tray from the corner he’s crowded Ransom into, “then you better start fucking drinking,” he gruffly whispers, lips to his ear.

Ransom moans. Thank God. He’s been miserable sipping on just water all night, trying to be on his best behavior when around others.

“If you pop a button by the time we leave, in front of everyone, then you won’t have to go to bed clothed and aching. If not…” Andy just smirks, “it’s not like you can come without being so fucking grossly stuffed that you burst out of your clothes anyway, so it won’t matter, will it, pig?”

Ransom goes up in flames.

Immediately, he flags down the help and empties the tray of flukes into his keg-belly before waddling back into the middle of the party, unashamedly taking two of everything being passed out by the help. Food and drinks. He has a mission. Make a pig of himself in front of everyone until he pops.

#ask #mylevisdontfitanymore #belly kink #text #stuffing #weight gain #tight clothes #button pop #alcohol consumption #intox kink #andy barber #ransom drysdale #andy barber x ransom drysdale #andy x ransom #chubby ransom #animal play #pet #pig

[anawkwardlady]

Dadbastian week day 2 : Identity

(poem referenced is The Wolf and the Lamb by Jean de La Fontaine)

The reason of those best able to have their way is always the best: We now show how this is true A lamb was quenching its thirst In the water of a pure stream. A fasting wolf came by, looking for something; He was attracted by hunger to this place.

Humans are grasshoppers. Children are worth even less. After all, they're just beginning to gain a sense of value to humans themselves since it's so easy to make them, to lose them, to make some more. They’re nothing but an unshaped clay of potential for creatures like him. Shaped by knives, intentions and expectations, probable pain— until maybe one day, one or two walks outside, reeking of blood and rage, right into his mouth. And it's been this way since the dawn of time, time he killed for centuries to fill the gaping hole where a soul should be, which he filled with many others. 

When that unshaped clay signed his soul away, the demon signed away his freedom for a mere potential. No choice was left for any of them. He was to take on the role of hands and knives but did not think through it very much. He was himself unshaped clay of somesort, walking within the human skin of a protective adult. The demon looks down on the tiny thing that called him over. 

—What makes you so bold as to meddle with my drinking? Said this animal, very angry. You will be punished for your boldness

The now Butler looks at his wet gloved hands. They burn. Pain of the flesh is inconsequential, he could get a new one some time soon, it's a foreign feeling, while obviously unpleasant. Like maybe cutting a finger up while dreaming away. Pain of the ego however rings through his entire body. The unshaped clay now Master is behaving like a newborn pulling a cat’s tail over and over again. It soon enough will become a bit of an endearing trait of his, probably. When it’ll stop triggering his desire to maim. He looks up at this weak master who slowly gains a shape. 

—Sir, answered the lamb, let Your Majesty Not put himself into a rage; But rather, let him consider That I am taking a drink of water In the stream More than twenty steps below him; And that, consequently, in no way, Am I troubling his supply.

Blood is on the grass and more will pour. Body filled with adrenaline as it rips more intruders, more targets. Nothing is known of them, and the demon wouldn’t care to learn such things as family, names or any pleadings, any excuses. Death doesn’t come out of anger nor is it personal. He is ordered to execute and execute he does. Soon enough he only knows executing, can only smell blood and starts to drown inside his limiting cage. 

Everything morphs into each other, flesh is wounds is meat is guts is human. Like all the times he reached this state before, he gains the knowledge that better sleeps soundly inside. Wonders if it will finally be the time to toss aside those learned quirks of patience and care, of loyalty and dignity to give in to hunger. He used to quietly slip back inside, soiled with death, towards the master’s bedroom he entered without a sound just to stare at the little figure. The boy doesn’t move, probably won’t hear. He spent too many sleepless nights before, thus sometimes got a little help in his milk before laying down, to avoid complete exhaustion. Works wonders. Humans develop new tricks everyday to avoid children's screams. 

—You do trouble it, answered the cruel beast. And I know you said bad things of me last year. —How could I do that when I wasn’t born, Answered the lamb; I am still at my mother’s breast. —If it wasn’t you, then it was your brother. —I haven’t a brother.—It was then someone close to you;

The child is the weakest of its kind. His prey smells like death and yet it only brings questions. The demon should eat to appease hunger but cannot, because he chose to be Sebastian. Sebastian is a placeholder for a child’s needs but even that part doesn’t reason. After all, even a mother cat eats her sickest kitten. And it seems like deep down even the master knows the wrong kitten was dragged to hell. In the end, Sebastian showed up and ate what was on the plate. Nothing more nothing less. Everything in nature should take this life away. Nothing did. Humans tame themselves for preservation sake. Something valuable to learn about them. Tame yourself and wait. 

For you have no sympathy for me, You, your shepherds and your dogs. I have been told of this. I have to make things even.

Tame yourself and wait. 

As the demon thinks of his hunger, the butler starts to mechanically check a mental list of tomorrow’s imperatives. His stomach tores apart. He wonders if the bread could make a good Pain Perdu for tea time. Blood sticks to his skin. The young master will be wearing his blue coat, because the air starts to get cold. 

He gently puts his tainted red gloves away, rearranges Ciel’s pillow and covers before disappearing like he came. Cleans the mess outside.

Tame yourself and wait. 

Saying this, into the woods The wolf carries the lamb, and then eats him Without any other why or wherefore.

Thankfully he was always more bored than he was hungry.

#q #dadbastianidentity #dadbastianweek2023 #nana is posting

[storyofmychoices]

Vintage Dreams

[Mal Volari x Daenarya Blades 1 + Beyond] [Mal’s Orphanage] [Mal Volari x Daenarya Blades 2 AU]

Pairings: Mal Volari x Daenarya (F!MC) with Tyril Starfury x Maiele (@lilyoffandoms's OC) + Mal x Tyril Book: Blades of Light and Shadow (setting this in my book 1 AU) Word Count: ~750 Rating/Warnings: Teen, drunk characters, hints at adult themes Tagging: @choicesficwriterscreations (Bisexual Awareness); @choicesoctober; @choicesprompts (Flufftober) Prompts: "This is not a dream, I think. In my dreams we're usually kissing." from this drunken confessions list requested by @lilyoffandoms

Synopsis: Mal and Daenarya drink some wine and have some fun.

In the dimly lit wine cellar, Daenarya and Mal found themselves surrounded by countless bottles, each one a testament to the art of winemaking, each bottle older than the last. They sat on the cool stone floor, leaning comfortably against one another, their laughter echoing softly in the cozy space.

"You're pretty," Mal marveled, his fingers threading through her hair. He leaned closer, a playful grin growing on his face. "This is not a dream, I think. In my dreams, we're usually kissing."

"Is that so?" Her words danced with mischief. She licked her lips slowly, letting her teeth drag on her lower lip as she sucked it in. "And how often do you dream about kissing me?"

"How often do I fall asleep?" He whispered as he brushed his lips against her neck.

Her cheeks already warmed from the drink, flushed further. "And in these dreams, are we just kissing?"

A devilish grin filled his lips, "amongst other things."

Daenarya laughed, her fingers tracing a tantalizing line up his chest. "What are you going to do about it, Mal the Magnificent?"

"What am I going to do about it, you ask, Kit?" His husky tone sent a shiver down her spine. His hands slid around her, pulling her even closer. The sweet wine on their breath tangled between them. 

"Show me," Daenarya's words were lost on his lips as Mal closed the remaining distance between them. 

His lips met hers in a heated kiss, filled with longing and hunger. A thirst that could only be quenched locked in one another's embrace.

Daenarya's fingers tangled in Mal's dark hair, pulling and guiding his movements. Mal's moans in reply, vibrated on her lips. 

As Mal and Daenarya's passionate kiss deepened, their surroundings blurred as they forgot themselves and where they were. As far as either of them was concerned, this was a dream—a very delicious and satisfying dream.

However, before their passion could escalate too far, the wine cellar's door creaked open. Maiele and Tyril entered, their footsteps echoing in the silence.

Tyril took care to step around the mess their house guests had created, pausing in front of the two still locked together. He cleared his throat, waiting for them to notice his presence.

The pair parted breathless as their focus came back to the moment.

Through bleary eyes, Mal's gaze narrowed on Tyril. "Well, well, well, it seems my dream just got better now that my Elf Boy is here," he quipped. He puckered his lips toward Tyril, making elaborate and exaggerated kissing sounds. 

Tyril's brow rose, but he kept his composure. He retreated momentarily, retrieving a pitcher of water from the nearby table. With an almost imperceivable smile, he poured the cool water over Mal's head. Droplets splashed over the Rogue, soaking his hair and clothes, dousing any delusions that this might be a dream. 

Mal sputtered, shaking the water away. "So, not a dream?" 

"Not a dream," Tyril confirmed, unamused.

"Aww," he pouted, his expression faltering slightly before rebounding just as quickly. "Does 'not a dream' have to also mean no kisses?" 

Tyril let out a quiet exasperated sigh; only Mal Volari could do that to him. "No, absolutely no kisses," he spoke firmly. "Not from me." His gaze shifted to Daenarya, whose eyes fluttered, heavy with sleep. "And not from Daenarya...Perhaps it's time for you two to turn in for the night."

"Listen to him," Daenarya nudged Mal. "Sleep now, kisses in your dreams, and more in the morning." Her words were mumbled as she fought to stay awake. 

Mal crossed his arms. Her words made sense, but he still wanted Tyril's kisses. 

Maiele shook his head in amusement. He leaned over, looping his arm beneath his friend, lifting her up. "Let's get you to bed."

She pressed a grateful kiss to his cheek, resting against him for support. "That sounds perfect. Thank you."

Mal stood up, extending his arms to Tyril. "Carry me?"

"Only if you want to be dropped out a window."

He stood on his tiptoes, throwing his arms around Tyril's neck without abandon. "You'd miss me too much."

"Somehow," Tyril began, removing Mal's arms from him. "I'd find a way to cope." 

Ignoring his words, Mal pressed a chaste kiss to the elf's lips. "As if you could get rid of me." 

His brow rose as he watched Mal stumble out, following Maiele and Daenarya back to their chambers. 

Please ignore any mistakes, this isn't edited. It just sort of happened so here we are!

I hope you enjoy!

#mal volari #mal volari x mc #mal volari x oc #malarya #daenarya #tyril starfury #mal x daenarya #blades of light and shadow #bolas #choices #playchoices #choices game #choices book club #fan fiction #lovealexhunt #the orphanage #blades 2 #bolas 2 #blades of light and shadow 2 #dani cries over blades 2 #dani plays blades 2 #tyril starfury x mc #tyril starfury x oc #tyril starfury x mal volari #mal volari x tyril starfury #maiele nightbloom #tyril x maiele #mal x tyril #tyril x mal #october2023

[newwwwusername]

Awesome! I'm glad that you enjoyed it ^^

So for the request I was thinking of a little bit of an AU where, at the party, they have an argument about Sam, but James Storm's off to talk to him anyway and Isaiah doesn't see him for the rest of the night as the regular events of the episode takes place

When Isaiah, Jane and Isabella find him he's more worse for wear then he is in the show (concussion, broken arm, gonna leave it up to you ^^) and when Isaiah helps him up and out of the hole he was thrown in he admits that, with the way the two of them left off, James wasn't sure if Isaiah would even look for him

They reconcile and Isaiah takes James to get checked out at the hospital and something to eat afterwards, and that's where my ranting ends lol 😅

Author's note : Tbh I'm kinda surprised anyone even saw my other Goosebumps (Disney+) fic cause, at the time of typing this out, the fandom still hasn't been canonized on AO3 lol but I am very happy to pioneer the tag for it 💪 Hope this suffices as a request fill. Also keep in mind that, at the time of writing this, I still haven't watched episode 6, so (while I doubt any of this stuff will specifically come up in episode 6 since we're well past it by now) if anything is inaccurate due to context in that episode, just keep that in mind.

"I just don't think you should be lying to him about liking something if you're tryna get closer with him" Isaiah told the shorter boy. James scoffed and rolled his eyes. Isaiah was supposed to be proud of him for finally making a move on Sam, not scolding him for the iffy way he went about it!

"You don't get it" James replied, glad that everyone around them was drunk and not really paying attention. "I really like this guy and I don't wanna mess it up"

"And you think the best way to go about that is to start on a lie?"

"I don't get all the chances you do, Isaiah!" James said, exasperated. Isaiah leaned back, confused.

"The fuck does that mean?"

"It means that you're a conventionally attractive straight dude" James went on. "You have the entire pond of fish to pick from. I'm limited to about five dudes. Honestly it's a miracle I even like one of them"

"Look, all I'm saying is I think that-"

"I don't need your advice, Isaiah" James cut him off, annoyed. He stood up and began to walk away. "I got this. Just leave me be"

----------

James really wasn't doing well.

For one, his stomach hurt (a mixture of hunger pains and the pain that naturally comes along with eating/drinking dirt water for sustenance) really bad. His left arm had also been broken at one point by one of his duplicates, and his focus was just on not dying in that mine, though that seemed hopeless.

Isaiah wouldn't want to come look for him, not after the fight they had last time they spoke, and no one else was as close to him as Isaiah, so they wouldn't want to waste their time looking for him, if they even realized that something was wrong to begin with (it didn't take a genius to figure out that he probably had some duplicates taking his place in the real world).

Then, Isaiah did arrive and promptly smacked him in the head with a rock.

James saw stars for a moment and was sure that he had a concussion or something, but that was hardly his focus at the time. No, his main focus was that Isaiah was there. Isaiah found him. He'd be okay.

----------

After all the duplicates were killed, James was helped out of the mine and back into town.

Margot and Isabella seemed to get the hint that James wanted to talk to Isaiah one-on-one, so they walked a little bit ahead to give the two of them space, which James was quietly grateful for.

"I didn't think you would look for me" James admitted, his speech slightly slurred (something which tipped Isaiah off to the fact that the boy probably had a concussion).

"Why wouldn't I look for you?"

"Hm?"

"Why wouldn't I look for you?" Isaiah repeated.

"We got in a fight" James shrugged. Isaiah felt his heart break. Sure, that argument hadn't been fun, but something like that would never prevent him from looking for the other boy should he go missing.

"James, I care about you so much" Isaiah told him. "A little fight isn't gonna change that. Friends fight, it happens. You matter to me more than that"

"Oh"

"Now, let's get some food in your stomach, and then we're taking you to a hospital" Isaiah said, patting his friend lightly on the back. "I think you have a concussion, and also your arm is definitely broken"

"Yeah, you're probably right" James chuckled. "We can be broken arm buddies!"

"Sure, bud"

#fanfiction #fanfic #goosebumps #goosebumps disney plus #disney plus goosebumps #hulu #disney plus #this was a request #injury #concussion #james goosebumps #isaiah howard #goosebumps 2023

[ollifree]

No Wolf-Man's Land

Fic for @barbwritesstuff's IFs 'Blood Moon' and 'Thicker Than', featuring @atypicalacademic's Mahim.

[Ao3 Mirror]

A vampire and a werewolf go to the movies, and neither knows exactly who is trespassing. Set during the time skip between parts one and two of 'Thicker Than'.

Obviously I should have waited to see how the pack's going to cameo in the game before writing this. However, and I cannot stress this enough, Barb's writing is my cocaine. The setting and the characters do things to me I don't have words to adequately describe. Either I write the fanfic as it comes to me or I start mauling.

“Okay, what seats do we want?”

“Up front!”

Hyun picks the ones they normally do. Fourth row up, two from the aisle.

Chris has an aunt-related emergency. Which is unfortunate, because Hyun likes that aunt, and annoying. Because vampires can’t pick up their sons during the day no matter how much they want to. They can’t even pick up their phones. They’re dead.

But, arrangements have been made, and now Hyun and Seong have a few nights to spend together. So what if Hyun took their toddler to a late-for-toddlers movie? It’s the weekend! Plenty other people here seemed to have the same idea.

A group ahead of them in another snack queue draws Hyun’s attention. Five kids, the oldest in her tweens and the youngest about Seong’s age, and one adult. Her buzzed brown hair reminds Hyun so much of Tracy they have to double-take and make sure it isn’t her. Three of the kids look so alike they can only be related. The two girls and the adult couldn’t have passed as relatives if lives depended on it.

“Do you have any water cups for the little guy? I’ll pay for a small.” A cashier tells the babysitter her total. She shifts the youngest boy further up her hip, opens her wallet, and frowns. “Could you make those sodas medium?”

“Can do!”

Hyun hates how chipper the cashier is. They much prefer when one’s openly bored. At least they’re honest.

“Customer service always begins with a nice, big smile.”

Hyun just about stamps down the revulsion the memory brings when the oldest girl wrinkles her nose.

“What’s that smell?”

In almost comical slow motion, the babysitter lifts her head like a dog. Then, impossibly, it whips to Hyun almost too fast to follow. Worse yet is the naked loathing on her face. Worse than that is her golden eyes.

Gold eyes, black fur, lolling tongue.

No. No, no, no. Hyun did not fuck up so bad they brought Seong into werewolf territory.

Shouldn’t they be nice and pricey somewhere further in? Not asking for a downsize at the cheapest theater in what’s technically Hyun’s domain?

Is it Hyun’s?

Shit. They’ve gone and landed themselves in the grey zone, haven’t they?

Hyun picks Seong up and clutches him close, planning the fastest way to the exit. For a split second the werewolf’s golden eyes flash down to Seong. Then her cashier presents her with popcorn, drinks, and several kinds of candy.

There’s still palpable tension: the kids crowd close to her even after she’s distributed the snacks, but the immediate danger is gone. A bored teenager asks Hyun what they’ll be getting.

Hunger fills them at the flush in the teenager’s cheeks. They order a small popcorn and drink for Seong.

~

Vampire.

It’s a testament to how held-together the pack is—so the complex she’s developed can go away now—that the theater isn’t immediately plunged into chaos. Her head, however, is a different matter.

Quiet, Olli orders. As best she can, she parses the overwhelming smells of the lobby and howls the information. Carrie?Carrie?Carrie?

I hear you, dog.

Can you sense the vampire?

Her no is a snarl of frustration. Olli pushes the image harder.

“What’s going on?” Nik asks Iz.

Change of plans? Sergi asks.

No. Tell Minjo.

Yes Alpha.

Vicky. Mahim. be ready.

Yes Alpha. Their confirmations overlap.

She feels guilty about Mahim. Hani came along so he and Farro could have a date night. Not that they’d have much of a date knowing a leech is in the theater. Next to Vicky, Mahim’s the one Olli trusts most not just to protect the pups, but to put the wolf away and get the pups comforted again.

Nik grabs her hand after they show their tickets. “Alpha, what if it tries to take us?”

Olli squeezes his hand and smiles. “I rip their head off.”

“What about Mum?” JiAn asks.

“Your Mum’s with the pack.” Olli hopes she hasn’t accidentally lied to them. If Minjo isn’t spending her night at the den, Sergi likely isn’t the only one racing to her. “Wanna guess what the pack will do?”

“Rip their heads off?”

“That’s right.”

They take their seats near the back row. Nik swaps with JiAn to sit next to her. Olli settles Alek on her lap. She owes Mahim and Farro a date night, but she’ll succeed in her original mission to give Minjo a night without the pups.

Probably a night worrying about them being near a vampire, but a night without the pups! Speaking of.

She unlocks her phone and goes to the pack’s group chat. don’t howl for me unless it’s an emergency. the pups are enjoying the movie.

Olli nearly puts her phone away, but thinks twice and scours her contacts for Lee’s number. vampire in the theater. not planning a scene rn but if things go south we wouldn’t mind a crossbow if you’re not busy. She follows it up with the address.

Lee replies surprisingly quickly. Ed already messaged me. In the area on alert.

you’re the best lee

I’m going to start charging you.

“You guys wanna take a picture?” Most the pups lean in. Alek gnaws a fistful of popcorn. “Everyone say, movies!”

“Movies!”

Olli sends the picture to Lee. you would charge a single mother? ☹ She backs out of the conversation and puts the picture in the pack chat.

Lee replies. That one on your far right looks half your age.

you would charge a teenage mother? ☹

Do NOT say you were a teenage mother. It arrives so soon after hers he had to have already been typing it.

lmao

get teen mumed bullet boy

really tho. Thank You for dropping anything else you had lined up. anything changes ed’ll contact you

She goes to her messages with Ed, which consists mostly of Pokémon Go screenshots. good call on texting lee. anything happens be sure to keep him up to speed. Olli makes sure the text goes through and turns off her phone.

There’s still time before previews start when the vampire walks in.

Fuck off.

She realizes she didn’t keep it in her head when Iz and Hani giggle. “I don’t think it heard you, Alpha Olli.”

“That’s why no one likes a leech,” Olli agrees.

She doesn’t look away from the vampire through the entire hour and a half jukebox musical. She can’t even say if there’s anyone else in the cinema. The only times she moves is when Alek howls popcorn or thirsty.

“Can I have your soda if you’re not drinking it?” Hani whispers halfway through the movie.

“I want some!” Iz hisses.

“Share,” Olli reminds them. She hears them pouring it out between their cups. On her other side JiAn and Nik split a bag of candy. Good. They’re focusing on the movie. Having fun instead of worrying what a vampire in the theater means. Or if it means anything.

killkillkillkillkill

Good thing it’s new moon, so she’s the only one who hears how damn right it’s being.

The final number plays out on screen, and the characters dance over the credits. People block her view as they stand—so there were others here—but her nose tells her the vampire hasn’t left. Like hell she’s tucking her tail and running before a leech.

Eventually, it’s just them and the vampire. It turns its head as if to check, yes, the werewolf’s been the one boring holes in its head the entire movie. Changing during a new moon is so effortless now. The wolf in her wants it to try. She wants it to try. On four legs she’d be across the cinema in a blink. Pin it below the seats where the pups can’t see and

ripripripriprip

It picks up the kid and leaves.

Between the three buckets there’s about half a tub of popcorn left. They dump it into one, and Olli scoops out some for Alek in the water cup after wiping it down.

A surprise waits for them in the lobby. All of Team Former Stray. Including Carrie.

“Mahim!” Hani and Iz squeal. They launch into his arms and bombard him with the plot of the movie.

Vicky and Carrie stare in the same direction. Olli just makes out the short form of the vampire slipping through the dense crowds.

“It’s not someone I know,” Carrie says at last.

“Can’t win ‘em all.” Olli addresses the pups. “We’re all using the restroom before we go home.”

Ed takes Alek, and Vicky goes with Olli. While Iz and Hani enter the stalls, Vicky pulls out her phone and opens the notes app.

How’s a leech get a kid?

Nice to know someone else has been thinking the same thing for the last ninety minutes. Vicky passes over her phone.

probably the same way a human gets a werewolf one. or vice versa

Vicky arches a brow.

they looked VERY similar

They don’t need to howl to know what the other is thinking. Fuck.

“Can I ride with Mahim?” Hani asks when they’re all back together. Then it’s a shuffle of getting the booster seat into Vicky’s car, and figuring out whose legs fold easiest. Carrie and Mahim wind up smooshed together in the back of Vicky’s car. Ed gets his usual spot in Vicky’s passenger seat.

Iz waves to them from the back of Olli’s. Mahim and Ed wave back.

Turn around, Iz. Vicky howls. Iz sticks her tongue out before sitting down and doing her seatbelt.

Olli frowns at the number of unread messages in the pack chat. Not the mention private texts and smaller groups, let alone the chats she’s not in….

“Alpha?” Nik pipes up. “What are you howling?”

“M’not howling, bud. Just thinking.”

“Oh. Thinking what?”

She opens the spoofed version of Spotify (affectionately named Spoofy) that believes she pays for premium. “I’m thinking how catchy those songs were.” The pups cheer when the movie’s soundtrack starts.

Farro howls. A bus leaves their territory. follow?follow?follow?

No. Meet back at the den.

Hi Dad!

Hi Hani.

As Olli waits her turn to leave the garage, Marco catches her eye. She manages a tight smile. He takes her hand and massages the knuckles below her claws to turn them back to nails. The gate arm lifts and it turns out to not be the best thing to do while she’s driving stick. But the comforting rub he gives her thigh does the job just as well.

~

Do werewolves not blink?

Hyun feels eyes on them all throughout the movie. Eyes and wrath. They forget to act. Shift, cross their limbs, blink. Even werewolves know better, right? Not in front of so many humans. Not in front of kids.

They decided against calling Iliya. Yes, he’s the strongest vampire they know. Outside whatever freaky feats Dominus is capable of. And yes, Iliya’s as good at keeping secrets as he claims to be. But this is Hyun’s son. Tracy and Marcel already know about him. The more vampires Hyun tells about Seong, the more likely it is a vampire Hyun doesn’t tell finds out.

Hyun waits after the movie ends. One of those five werewolf kids needs to pee. Right now.

Damn the big one for getting mediums.

Gradually the cinema empties. Maybe…the werewolves already left? Out the door on their side? It’s the lingering emotion Hyun’s experiencing. Surely. Against their better judgement, Hyun turns to look. Golden eyes glare down at them.

Hyun grabs Seong and books it.

More werewolves wait in the lobby. Hyun’s not sure what instinct tips them off, but something draws their eye to the group. The way they watch Hyun cinches it. And the one in the black tank top—

Black fur, lolling tongue.

Clutching Seong, Hyun runs for the exit. Of course the werewolf phoned for backup. They’re so stupid. Why didn’t they call Iliya? They’re here for their kids, they’re here for their kids, they’re here for their kids. Why is the lobby so damn bright? They burst into the night and the shadows at last converge over them.

What follows is the most agonizing eight minutes of Hyun’s life and death. Constantly checking the crowds and what they can see of the lobby. Unsure if shadows even work on werewolves. No taxis drive by, and they aren’t letting go of Seong for anything. Least of all finding out an Uber will be longer than the bus.

Finally it pulls around. Hyun drops the shadows so the driver knows to stop. Fuck the grey zone. Hyun isn’t stepping foot anywhere near here. They’ll worry about the ramifications of losing more of their domain later. Some other vampire can get themself mauled over a movie.

As the bus turns a corner, Hyun spots graffiti a delivery van covered on their way to the theater. Even more on the nose than their cup literally runnething over. A giant red paw print.

Shit.

#olli writes #blood moon #thicker than #fic #sona things #mahim my beloved 💖 #wolf olli: *becomes alpha* #wolf olli: *immediately develops anxiety and imposter's syndrome* #wolf olli: 'surely these things aren't connected' #poke go is ace culture i will not be taking questions at this time #mahim: what did we say about expressing emotional needs? #wolf olli: *sweats* #sorry hyun i love writing you but you live in the same world as my self-insert only one of you's getting top billing #all the pups get seatbelts mahim and carrie can tank a crash

[galaxywhump]

Thunderstorm

[An Immortal Among Stars Masterlist]

Alternate prompt for Day 4 (Captivity Whump) of @whumpawoman's Whump Girl Summer event.

contents: lady whump, immortal whumpee, past captivity, death, starvation, isolation.

~~~

Karita woke up to new sounds.

Well, maybe not entirely new. She knew this sound, but she hadn't heard it in ages. Maybe it was a sound from an era long passed, like many. It was always startling to realize that some sounds and smells and flavors had disappeared completely after being present in her life for years, but… this sound was different. She could swear she used to hear it constantly, no matter the decade.

She pushed herself up from the couch and immediately stumbled. She felt weak, which was nothing new - she was starving, she was going to die soon, come back to life feeling marginally better, and the cycle would be repeated. At least she had access to water; she’d gotten used to the odd earthy taste, and it was her lifesaver, a way to temporarily cheat her hunger pangs.

The sounds continued, rhythmic tapping outside, and they filled her mind with longing for home, even though she hadn't had one in ages. She refused to call this prison home.

Looking around, she saw the same thick white fabric she'd always seen, a lounge, a kitchenette which had been stocked with food at some point, but she couldn't even remember what that was like. There were also hatches leading to two bathrooms and two bedrooms with bunk beds, but she'd decided to sleep in the lounge instead. Being the only person in a bedroom meant for eight people made her feel even more lonely than usual. Besides, most of the time she had been chained to her bunk at night. That was never pleasant, and not something she wanted to mentally go back to.

The tapping continued, but the dull pounding in her head made it hard to think. Her steps shaky, she walked over to the sink to drink some water. It helped, a little bit, and when she turned it off and watched the stream get thinner and thinner until it turned into occasional dripping, her eyes went wide with realization, confirmed by the unmistakable roar of thunder.

It was raining. It was storming.

Momentarily overcoming her weakened state, she ran towards the exit of the domed tent. The wait for the door to open felt endless, and she wasted no time getting outside and looking up at the sky.

The rain on her face felt incredible, refreshing and so new after the grim routine of the past several years. She opened her mouth to catch some raindrops, and for the first time in ages she couldn’t help but smile. The rain tasted so different to the water she usually drank, the barren planet was suddenly more alive, the rain mixing with the omnipresent dust, the temperature brought down slightly. Karita's heart was beating fast with excitement and joy, and she foolishly wanted to get lost in it, having forgotten what rain meant here, why she hadn't heard it in so long.

When she remembered, she couldn’t breathe.

"It only rains here every fifty years or so. That's why we need this bad boy." Zax slapped the machinery set on the ground, which was already hard at work, digging deep to reach the water reserves hidden far below the surface. "This and the condenser. Without them we'd be fucked."

"And when was the last time it rained here?" 

"Three months ago. Talk about unlucky."

"Fifty years," she whispered. Her legs gave out and she collapsed to her knees, her eyes still fixed on the sky. "Fifty fucking years."

Forty-nine years on her own.

"Wake up! Wake up, you bastard!"

He never did, and neither did any other member of the crew. She remembered kneeling there among corpses, too shocked to cry. That would come later, way later, when no one answered her SOS signal, when she realized she was eventually going to run out of food, when she scanned the planet and confirmed that there was no-one and nothing else there, just dust, rocks, and a single base camp of people working under the radar.

She never lost hope, she sent signal after signal, arranged rocks in a cry for help, their sharp edges cutting her hands, but as more and more time passed, her hope slowly grew dimmer.

Forty-nine years. Who knew how many more to come.

Her tears mixed with the raindrops on her face, and her scream, several decades’ worth of pent up grief, was drowned out by the thunder.

#waw2023 #whumpgirlsummer #captivity whump #lady whump #immortal whumpee #death #starvation #oc: karita #oc: zax #my writing #honestly i'm having a lot of fun writing this #maybe i just missed writing shorter stories #idk just wanted to share

[kelseyleighwriter]

Chapter One- Vampire

Heavy rain beat the hard and cracked concrete path that snaked by the forest. Occasionally a car would go by on the hard black road, headlights cutting through the downpour like bright knives. The car itself moved slowly on the wet road, throwing water onto the path. Bare feet splashed through the puddles; the skin was unnaturally pale, almost as pale as death.

 They belonged to a boy, no older than sixteen. He had short, wavy black hair that sat atop his head neatly, and ice blue eyes. His skin was so pale people would have thought he was dead; If they could see him. He was drenched from the heavy rain, his ragged black shirt and trackpants sticking to his skinny body. A briefcase was held tight in his hand. In the briefcase? Blood. Animal blood.

 Abrariel looked around at his surroundings, he knew it must be cold, but he couldn't feel it. That was one of the advantages of being dead. Well, somewhat dead. He didn't have a heartbeat, or breath. Walking around at night was one of the disadvantages, he was a Vampire; he had been since he was six. Another disadvantage? His only food source was blood, he couldn't have anything else, he needed blood to survive.

 At the thought of blood, he felt his needlepoint fangs prick his bottom lip, leaving where they were sheathed in his upper gum. He felt his stomach rumble with hunger and looked down at the tattered briefcase he held in his hand, watching it thump lightly against his right leg. He knew the people he once called Mother and Father had at least had the care to give him some food, but he knew there wouldn't be enough to make it through the night. 

 He stopped walking and placed the case on the ground, careful not to put it directly in a puddle of rainwater. He flipped the locks on the briefcase up and opened the lid. Inside the case were three, small bottles of blood. The bottles were no larger than the olden-day milk bottles, definitely not enough to make it through the night. Sighing, Abrariel took one of the bottles out, eyeing the deep crimson-colored blood with hungry eyes. He took the lid off the bottle, and took a sip, he gaged but forced the blood down. Lamb's blood. His parents knew he hated lamb's blood, it seems they wanted to spite him more. But still, food is food and Abrariel was famished. He started drinking, he knew he should run on rations, if he did, he might make it through the night without having to kill anything or anyone. As these thoughts went through his head, he realized he was already halfway through the second bottle, the first lying empty at his side. Normally, three bottles of this size were a meal for him, enough to fill him up for a few hours. He finished the bottle and looked hungrily at the last. He tried to fight the urge and failed, snatching the battle from the case. As he drank, he thought of his parents, his tribe, and how he had been abandoned.

                                                    ***

 "Where are we going, Mother? Father?" Abrariel asked as he watched the trees grow in numbers around them as twilight set in.

 "We're just going out for the night," his father answered slowly, he seemed to have searched for the right words.

 Abrariel looked at the briefcase next to him. Why did they bring such a small bag if they were going out for the night? And why hadn't he been tagged, like his parents? When a Vampire left the lair, they were tagged with a shiny bronze clip to track where they went, if a family left, they were all tagged, no matter what. So, where was his tag? He knew their leader wouldn't be happy when he found out.

 Abrariel looked back out the car window, there were trees on all sides now, black against the darkening sky. They had never traveled this far out of the city, Abrariel wasn't even sure of what way they went to get here. Their leader didn't let any Vampire of his tribe leave the city unless he gave permission at the doors. Suddenly scared, Abrariel looked at his parents. They were white like ghosts, his mother had short brown hair, and his father had ginger hair, nearly shoulder length. They were not his birth parents, Abrariel knew this. His leader had killed him and put him in the ground to be reborn, but his parents had given him his first feed of blood.

 "Mother, Father, where are we going?" He asked pushing the memories away, but his parents didn't answer him. 

 "Mother? Father?" Abrariel's voice was slightly panicked, "why won't you answer me?"

 His mother pulled the car over, to the path and trees. "Out!" She said.

 Abrariel didn't move, she had never spoken to him like that. In the ten years he had known her, her voice was always gentle when directed at him. Now, however, it was cold as ice, there was none of the love he was used to in it. He felt fear rise in his throat. 

 "Out!" His mother repeated, Abrariel got slowly out of the old silver car, and his father thrusted the case into his arms and shut the door with a bang. Abrariel saw what was happening.

 "Wait!" He cried, "you can't leave me here! Jeremiah-"

 "Won't care," his father finished in a tone that Abrariel had never heard. 

 "What do you mean?" He asked in a rasping voice, fear gripping his still heart like claws of ice.

 "We're leaving you here, alone, you're not needed or wanted. Jeremiah agrees," his mother's voice was ice.

 "B-but I'm your son! You love me!" Abrariel stammered in disbelief and fear.

 "You were never our son, we never loved you, and you won't be seeing us again," his mother wound the window up, stopping Abrariel from saying more.

 The old silver car sped off, tires squealing on the tarmac, leaving him alone in the dark and gloomy forest as the rain started to fall. 

                                                           ***

 Abrariel threw the now empty glass bottle away from him in anger. It smashed into a million little pieces that glittered like stars in the headlights of a passing car. He clenched his hands into tight fists, he had thought they loved him, thought they cared, turns out they didn't, no one had, and he guessed no one would. He picked up the two still-intact bottles and put them back in the case before he continued walking, he tried not to think about what would happen when he got hungry again. Despite himself, Abrariel felt despair rise in his chest. He was scared! So scared! He had never been this alone before. Even when he roamed the city streets at night, he had always had a safe place to return to, now, he didn't know where to go.

                                                  *

 Raziel tossed and turned in his bed, his sun-kissed brown wings dull with lack of sleep. He looked out his window and drew his eyes to the moon in its clear,  inky black sky. Midnight Angels would fly tonight, lighting up the stars and filling the sky with peace. Raziel was a Life Angel, one of only a handful. His kind was slowly becoming less and less with the chances of a Midnight Angel birthing one becoming even slimmer. Even then, Raziel's kind's chances of becoming pregnant were also slim. Raziel had only ever carried one child, a child that was never born, and his chances of becoming pregnant again were slim to none. It didn't matter how badly he wanted a child, a family, the numbers didn't get any bigger, and that hurt, there was no way he could go all eternity without having a family, it would kill him.

 He threw the covers off and sat up, ruffling his wings as he did so, he needed water, needed to clear his head. He walked across his moonlit room, the bookcase and dresser visible in silver light. He opened his door and walked the short distance to the kitchen, he had a large house, family-sized with three bedrooms all with their own toilets, and one bathroom for everyone to use. There was a large living room with soft green sofas across from the kitchen. The kitchen itself was the smallest room, but it was still big. The counter doing an L around the room and stopping at the stove and fridge, an island in the middle of the room with four barstools around it. Raziel headed to one of the cupboards and got a glass out, he then went to the sink and filled the glass with Heaven's clear, pure water.

 A stabbing pain.

 Raziel dropped the glass and it shattered on the floor. He clutched his chest in agony as the pain faded to a consistent throb, his head bent towards the sink as tears stung his eyes. He placed a shaking hand on the cold silver edge of the sink, he was no Guardian Angel, but he couldn't help but feel as though something was calling him. He straightened and went to the front door of his house, the pain in his chest continued, pulling him to the source. He opened the door, making the glass pane on the top shine with moonlight, he shut it before spreading his wings wide, the light coming back to him, making the wings shine with suns and stars. He brought them down hard and rose with terrifying speed into the sky, his long silver hair blowing in the wind, his butter-colored robes flattened to his body.

 He flew forwards towards the golden Gates, then he dived, the wind lashing his face and making tears spring to his green eyes as he flew down like a comet or a sharp arrow, following the pull in his heart. It wouldn't take him long to get where he needed to go.

                                                                ***

 A forest coming from a city, the tops of the trees turned silver with the bright moonlight, a single black river of road ran through it, a thin path next to it, running like a grey snake. Raziel looked through the lashing rain he had just noticed was there, it hadn't been a minute ago. A rain cloud going down its path, Raziel ignored it.  The pull in his chest was stronger, he was close. 

 There! 

 Movement on the snaking path, a boy from what Raziel could see. But the way he walked seemed familiar. Raziel dived slowly as he thought about the boy's stealthy movements.

 Vampire.

Raziel hovered for a few minutes, debating what to do. The pull in his chest led him here, to this boy. He slowed landed on the creaked pavement, feeling the boy stop dead in his tracks, his eyes boring into Raziel.

                                                                 *

 Abrariel looked at the being in front of him. An Angel. He had been told about them in myths. They were delicate, like Elves. Things of goodness, never doing any Sin, also not one's to get dirty. They had powers that could heal or kill, or both. Abrariel eyed the Angel in front of him, he eyed the Angel's tattered and dirty robe that was the colour of butter, clearly this Angel didn't mind getting dirty. He moved his gaze up, taking in what he could of the Angel's appearance. He spotted a tattoo, a brand more like, on the Angel's left hand, it marked a Sin he had committed, Abrariel moved his eyes from it. The Angel had honey-colored skin, long silver hair, and bright green eyes. His wings were sun-kissed brown and illuminating the area around them with the glow of the suns and stars scattered across the feathers.

 Abrariel braced himself, clenching his fists and giving the Angel a hard stare. "What do you want?" He asked in a low growl.

 The Angel didn't seem shocked at his tone. "I felt something pull me to you. You're a long way from home, aren't you?" He asked in an unthreatening tone, still, Abrariel didn't trust him.

 "What's it to you?" He asked.

 "Vampires don't normally go this far from home, are you lost?" The Angel asked.

 "...Abandoned."

 The Angel seems shocked, or that's what Abrariel guessed the look meant. 

 "I can give you somewhere to stay."

 The offer shocked the Vampire, an Angel offering him shelter? It was a trick, had to be. A gateway to Hell, he said nothing, just glared at the Angel.

 "I guess you have no food? I can give you some, it won't be hard to get blood in Heaven, we have butchers too," The Angel pressed, shocking Abrariel more.

 "I don't trust you," Abrariel muttered.

 "I can see that," The reply was simple, "but you might not have a choice, it's almost dawn."

 Abrariel stiffened, he had forgotten about time. Rain or not, he would burn to ashes if he didn't think of something fast. He looked at the Angel's kind face, he didn't trust him, but the Angel had offered him food and shelter, which was what he needed right now. He met the green eyes with his blue.

 "Alright," he said, "I will come with you."

 The Angel beamed, he opened his wings and flew up and behind Abrariel, and then he dived back down, like an eagle about to snatch its prey. The Angel scooped Abrariel up under the arms and took off even faster. Abrariel screamed, clutching at the Angel's arms despite himself vowing to stay calm, he hadn't expected the sudden rush. The Angel flew through the rain cloud  to a clear grey sky where Abrariel could see the sun starting to rise. He felt the slightest bit of a chill as they went even higher and though a cloud thicker than fog. It was full of water and Abrariel shut his eyes to stop the water from getting into them. When he opened them again, they were flying over a starlit field of wheat, corn, apples anything you could think of. Ahead was an empty, family-sized house.

 "This is where I live," The Angel murmured setting Abrariel down gently,  "and where you will live also," he opened the door and Abrariel rushed in.

 The Angel followed him in, shutting the door, and looking thoughtful. "I'm going to adopt you," he said before Abrariel could utter a word.

 "What?"

 "Adopt you, I am not your parents, I never will be, but I'm going to look after you," The Angel murmured gently.

 Abrariel said nothing, not at once. Okay, being looked after by an Angel didn't sound bad, it didn't mean he had to trust the Angel. He felt his stomach rumble.

 "Food," he said, "you promised me food."

Chapter one of my first novel, go give it some support :)

#book #chapter one #the angel the vampire and the demon #story

[svfttachi]

Hiii!!! May I request a naruto x fem!reader? May it be modern au please. Can it be something like the reader overthinking about school and being stressed about finals coming up and naruto just being there for her and he comforts her and makes her feel better 🥺 thank you 💛

SYNOPSIS: Finals week is a crippling time to fend off, and you were one of its victims where eating, drinking water, and sleeping went down the priority list. Focusing too hard on gaining the knowledge needed to succeed has opened up the bad habits you acquired to your gentle and loving boyfriend, Naruto.

PAIRING: Uzumaki Naruto x Fem!Reader

WARNING(S): Mentions of Eating, Drinking, and Sleeping Habits, Descriptions of Stress

TYPE: College/Modern AU, Fluff

WORD COUNT: 2041

NOTES: Oh my gosh, this was such a cute little oneshot to write, and I would have loved to have written this when I was taking my exams early May because it made me feel 100x better afterwards. I hope everyone that is taking or planning on taking finals soon has a nice and easy time preparing. Just like what Naruto says in this oneshot, it is important to stay hydrated and replenish your energy because you will focus way better with that running in your system. To those that are taking finals, good luck!

FINALS week was anything but relaxing especially at the university level. The week before a well deserved summer vacation always brought your mentality down to a deep and stressful level. Studying for finals meant you weren’t sleeping all six to eight hours of sleep that was beneficial for an average human being, and you certainly weren’t taking in filling meals rather getting by on small munchables or snacks. Water intake… oh boy… it wasn’t sitting well with you either. The most you would have is a single glass the entire day. All of these factors tied together with the dreading of taking exams and getting the highest grades weren’t making your mental health any better.

Currently, you were out in a library with some of your good friends, including your wonderful boyfriend, Naruto. Everybody had their laptops out and open to lessons that will help them study for their own finals. Having a nice, piping hot cup of coffee next to you while you studied gave you a better focus on the wordy slides you were attempting at taking into your already exhausted brain. Hours went by, and everyone was still working hard at preparing for their tests, except for a few that had dozed off halfway through the study session including your own boyfriend.

“Hey, let’s all take a break and grab something to eat,” Sakura spoke up, closing her laptop and leaning back to stretch her sore shoulders. “Good grief, I was thinking we would never stop,” Shikamaru complained lazily, lying his legs out on the table with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“What do you all want to eat?” Hinata asked after powering her laptop down. Everyone started sputtering out their ideal choice of food whilst you kept to yourself and continued reading your notes. Eating wasn’t particularly high on your list of needs as of right now despite the rumbling taking place within your body. Naruto’s head immediately rose at the mention of food, and surely, a drool began to form at his lips. “Ramen,” Naruto moaned out, delirious from his hunger collecting in his stomach.

“Anything for you, Y/N?” Ino asked, looking directly at you. You quickly looked over the screen of your laptop, shaking your head, “I’m fine, thanks for asking though.” Ino crossed her arms with a confused look on her face. Shrugging her shoulders, she joined the others who were ready to venture out.

Hinata, Sakura, TenTen, Ino, Choji, and Kiba all volunteered in getting everybody’s food, so they left after writing down what everyone wanted.

“Are you sure she didn’t say what she wanted, Ino?” TenTen asked, noticing your name wasn’t on the list. “It’s weird because she’s always hungry, but I guess she wasn’t in the mood,” Ino replied.

Back at the table, you were left with Naruto, Sasuke, Neji, Rock Lee, Shino, Shikamaru, and Sai. Apart from Rock Lee, Naruto, and Shikamaru, the rest of them were stuck on focusing on their screens. Momentarily after the group left to get food, Naruto propped his chin up and in the palm of his hand, glancing over at your laptop. His widened eyes were answer enough as to what complicated nonsense you were trying to drill into your brain, and it was enough for the boy to rest his head against your shoulder with a tired expression on his face.

“Say, Y/N, did you pack any snacks? I’m starving,” Naruto whined, reaching out to play with one of your hands. Oblivious to his constant voice running in the background, you focused your eyes on your notes. When you didn’t respond in a certain amount of seconds, Naruto turned his head to look at you, taking in your determined face. “Y/N?” he questioned, trying to grab your attention once again.

Upon feeling his finger lightly poking your cheek, you tore your eyes off of the screen and looked down at the desk, finding his head resting on it and directly next to your laptop. Naruto’s cute face was enough to bring out a little giggle. “Snacks,” he whined with exaggerated sadness.

Nodding your head, you leaned down to grab your backpack. The smallest pocket in your bag was specifically reserved for Naruto’s snacks because with an appetite like his, it was appropriate and handy to carry a large reservoir of tiny edibles. You unzipped the pocket and took out the first thing your hand touched, that being a small pack of Goldfish crackers, handing it to the hunger-crazed boy. Immediately, his ocean blue eyes widened and he practically tore the bag apart to begin devouring the treats.

When you went back to focusing on your notes, Naruto realized he didn’t hear your voice when Hinata asked for everyone’s meal orders. It didn’t occur to him at the moment due to hunger starting to devour the insides of his body, but now that he had a small snack savoring the feeling for now, it became peculiar to him. When all of your friends and yourself were gathered for a hangout, it was always you that would mention food and suggest getting it whilst also manually going to get it. However, today, you didn’t even speak a word when you heard everyone was taking a break, and this was unsettling for Naruto.

That’s what conspired Naruto to try to feed you some of his Goldfish, but you rejected his offer multiple times. He huffed and crossed his arms, “Y/N, you need to eat something.” You looked over at your boyfriend and sighed, “I’m not hungry right now.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, not sounding too convinced. A single nod is what you replied with before you went back to reading your notes. Naruto let out a sigh of his own and sadly finished up his snack.

About a half an hour went by, and once he spotted the crew heading over to the table with loads of food in their hands, Naruto raised his arms above his head and jumped out of his seat, hollering “Ramen” over again. Many of the other students here began shushing him in large crowds, but the overexcited boy couldn’t care less about the noise he was making. Naruto ran over to the group, mouth watering just thinking about his tasty ramen. Once the container rested in his hands, Naruto rushed back to his spot and broke apart his chopsticks. However, instead of immediately devouring his food, he glanced over at you, finding you trying to keep your eyes open and on the screen.

Suddenly, Naruto pulled your laptop out of your view which forced your eyes to widen, any reminiscent of sleep disappearing. He shut the laptop off and set it next to his own. You watched him, curiously, pull his chair closer to yours. Naruto started picking up some of the ramen noodles with his chopsticks and held his hand underneath it whilst bringing it towards your mouth, motioning himself opening his mouth paired with a “Say Ah!”

“Naruto, I have to study. I don’t have time to eat,” you said, trying to keep your face away from the chopsticks. However, your attempt was futile because Naruto was waving that thing all around as if he were wielding a magical wand from Harry Potter. “There is always time for food, Y/N, and you need it to focus on studying later. It’ll still be there, so please… let me feed you,” Naruto replied with a softening expression.

Huffing, you turned your eyes away from him and toward the food on the chopsticks, opening your mouth simultaneously. Naruto smiled and continued saying “Ah” whilst bringing the food into your mouth. He watched you eat the food and swallow it to which he felt pleased to have you cooperate with him. When he picked up another serving on his chopsticks, you shook your head and held a hand in front of it, “I don’t want anymore.”

Naruto sighed and dropped the food back into his bowl, setting his chopsticks aside. Not bothering with explaining the situation, Naruto grabbed your hand and hastily pulled you up from your chair, leading you far away from the table and around a corner. Everybody was watching the scene unfold before them, wondering what had occurred between you two.

“Naruto! Let go of me! I have to study!” you shouted in a quiet volume to not disturb anyone else in the library. Once you two were a good distance away from the table and in a secluded area, Naruto dropped your hand from his hold and replaced his hands on your shoulders. The two of you held strict eye contact with one another, and you could have sworn you were feeling shivers run down your spine from how serious the boy was looking at you.

“Y/N, not everything is about studying. At first, I didn’t say anything because I know you like to keep to yourself when studying, but to this extent, I couldn’t stop worrying about you. Last I know, you had breakfast which was like five hours ago, and even then, you had a single piece of toast. This isn’t a healthy way of maintaining a balanced schedule, Y/N. You can’t be spending every minute of everyday studying without putting your self-care above it all. No matter how much studying you do, it won’t matter if something were to happen to you to make you miss your test. Eating full meals, drinking water, and sleeping regularly is all just as important as studying, even more, because without that, then you wouldn’t have the energy to keep all that information inside of your mind. So, please… Y/N, let me feed you just this once, so I know that you are well fed,” Naruto spoke, ending up taking your hands in his own, “I don’t know what I’d do if you were to get hurt from doing this.”

His speech and caring tone alone was enough to make you think deeply, but the worried look on his face was the final bandage that ripped off of the cold exterior you had been putting on. Tears welled in your reddening eyes and began to fall willingly, dripping onto the carpeted flooring. Naruto quickly pulled you into a hug, keeping a hand pressed on the back of your head and allowing you to keep your face nestled in his shoulder. Little kisses were laid on your head as you continued to let out all of the emotions you had bottled up for a while now. “I’m so sorry,” you mumbled against Naruto’s jacket, gripping onto him tighter as if he were going to fly away.

“It’s not your fault. Don’t apologize for this, at all. We’ll get through finals week together and afterwards, we can take a vacation anywhere you’d like to go,” Naruto immediately shot out after hearing your sobbing apology. He pulled away, only a little, to get a good look at your crying face. Tears stained your cheeks, and your hair began to stick to it. Naruto began to comb your hair out of the way and rested his forehead against yours. Something in this little intimate moment made you stop sobbing and look deeply into Naruto’s eyes. One of his amazing and wonderful smiles were what you were met with, causing you to hug him tighter.

Naruto continued to brush your hair away from your face until you felt like you had gotten all the sadness and stress out of your system. “I bet my ramen is all cold now,” Naruto mumbled with a light frown as he took your hand in his. A giggle came out of your mouth, and you clung to his arm, “It’s okay. Let’s just take it home and reheat it to eat it there.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to finish studying first? You looked so focused on it before,” Naruto questioned curiously. A nervous chuckle erupted from your mouth as you rubbed the back of your head awkwardly, “Honestly, I would much rather take a nap than look over all of those complicated equations again.”

“Do you care to join me?” you asked, stopping in front of him and looking into his ocean blue eyes.

“Of course.”

NARUTO MASTERLIST

WRITING MASTERLIST

NAVIGATION

#*+:｡.｡ naruto series writings #anime #anime fanfic #anime fanfiction #anime oneshot #fanfiction #fanfic #oneshot #naruto oneshot #naruto x reader #naruto x you #naruto x y/n #naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto uzumaki #uzumaki naruto #uzumaki #naruto fluff #fluff #finals week #finals #modern au #modern #studying #take care of yourself #lots of fluff

[evashearta]

denial.

it was a sunny day. 

the lush green specked with flowers seemed to show all life in its youth, so fragile and young yet so full of energy. 

the birds were filling the air with buzzes and chirps, all so busy with finding a mate. 

as is usual, hitler took his berghof companions out on a picnic in the woods, he quite liked such outings, along with his valet linge. this time he allowed eva, his lover to come along... he knew that she ruled the berghof as he wanted to rule the world someday. he had given her power, where he left her caged. some kind of illusory status to a flittery bird like her. his toy. his forgetting. his sweet craving in the night...

“ah, the sunshine is so pure, the clouds are clear, it seems nature itself is celebrating my birthday. ah, those days,... what a beginning i had, in that little village on the meeting lines of austria and germany. it was destiny that shined upon me the day i was born, this very same stroke of sun that lit my eyes and led me to this fate. ah, in those days where i was but a poor little boy, when i was nothing but a grain of dust, inconsequential. even then the rage, the calling came forth to me and....

hitler rambled on, the rest, too scared to intervene. eva knew how much reassurance he needed, that he was no grain of dust, that he was a big shot, a world changer a rule breaker, a fate. 

eva knew how frail he was. 

his body.. was losing that same robust desire that once animated it, his thoughts more and more repetitive, predictable, flat, imitating of his own self image. 

as time passed, linge eventually brought up the good weather, goebbels had come a bit late with his children and the secretaries were fawning over them. 

eva was smiling too but, she felt an insatiable hunger inside her. 

she had been losing appetite for life all in all. deprived, small, confined. the only thing that satisfied her heart was when he would pull her tight to his body, even if it was just to...

“eva do you want a drink?”

“why of course, mein fuhrer. a glass of mineral water please.”

“here, have this bit of sandwhich, mein tschapperl. you havent-”

“its fine, adi. im not hungry now”

he looked at her, worried. what did this man want from her? why did he care so much about her health, her image according to his virtues, forbidding her a girls love of cigarettes and dancing? she knew well what his dr morell was giving him. 

“oh, why. i have to excuse myself, but i have just remembered that i have a little meeting with my friend herta. thank you, sorry i must leave you so abruptly.”

“i will escort you.”

puzzled, eva accepted adolf’s request. he seemed more and more paranoid as of late, enemies, enemies everywhere, he said. the whole berghof area was now fenced and highly protected, which was quite good as no more pilgrims would come so near. but, she was worried about him too. she loved him, deeply so. but he hurt her, puzzled her, used her.. no, its his way of loving isnt it? there is good in him, there must be something-

he pulled her hand towards him a bit stronger, massaging it almost. it sent goosebumps all over her body. she started to move her hand towards his arms, hoping for an embrace, a kiss maybe.. she was so desperate for intimacy, attention. all those cameras.. she needed to see those eyes as they are again. 

brusquely he pushed her off but she grabbed his sleeve, trying to hold his hand- she couldn’t help herself.

“please-”

he shot her an icy, cold gaze. there was resentment in those eyes, waiting to lash out. 

“how dare you think you mean anything to me!! i the greatest man of germany and you nothing. driven by your own primitive impure desires you are nothing to the might of my willpower, nothing to my destiny as the savior of germany! i must remain pure, like rienzi, i must remain like the purest ray of light upon this earth, coming from above! and you? you are nothing but filthy vermin trying to pull me down, make me human, twist my soul in anguish and bewitch me you despicable-”

he raised his arm and eva welled into tears. he saw his ascetic fantasy of himself suddenly come into question, and the guilt whipped him into rage, the sheer pain of being human, of showing her being human, was too much for a man living a dream. 

“adolf please dont-”

too late. it wasnt so much the burning clasp of his hand that hurt her, as much as his sphynx-like contradiction in the heart of his personality that made him switch like that, forget all that he ever was- to her. what he showed her, what that man would do under the cover of the night, how gentle, soft, caring a mask he could put on. but she liked to believe it was all true. 

eva was left there, alone, deserted, to cry in the woods. 

what had she done wrong? 

why did he keep her here?

#choccy #eva braun #reichblr #history fanfiction #eva braun fanfiction #ww2 fanfiction

[lovepaola]

This is how my friend died.

Survivor’s guilt is success at the top

But lonely

Blood trailed up 

But the journey was agonizing

You sit on the throne 

Without your day one homies

And when you go back home everyone wants to act like an angel has arrived 

But you not even close to holy

An opportunity maybe, to wash they hands in gold and take what’s yours

Stocks for the low and chains for all your hoes

Is this how you amount to success?

Dancing boys who sell sex 

What ever happened to the devil deals

Dog days and drowning drills?

I could have mistaken your breath for blue bills 

We don’t call for the candy man anymore

We call for money man who gives the girls chills and thrills 

But pardon me, 

My father could have sworn he saw you at the corner store looking for God in empty tanks

Trying to fill your bank 

And if there was ever a problem big enough to hide in the river

I could’ve called Hank 

You still got his number? 

I have to let him know I’ve seen a ghost today

Calling my name

Asking for a ride and wishing I could see him as sane. 

This is how my friend died.

The man who needed me but never wanted me

Spoke to his mother about what a good wife I would be 

Would play with my hand and sell me a ring that would never pass my knuckle

Then he went off dancing with the girl drinking gin.

I was okay with that

Being the mold and model 

Looked for me in the girls that couldn’t follow 

And I swallowed

Pity? Pride? A secret way to die? 

I would entertain his fantasies but reminded him I was never real 

Only a dream 

I returned home every night lonely 

Soon enough he kissed me with a goodbye

Got everything he needed out of me.

On summer days black rims would skirt past my mother’s house 

And remind me of how I should’ve been the one sitting in the passenger seat 

How I would hold his hand while the tires weaved past potholes that the city never bothered to fix

We would talk about how it would all be ours one day

The world 

We would eat the world alive

Satisfy our hunger 

Never being able to stay still

Like bees we would buzz

At 3:04, my father passed the phone where my homegirl cried on 

The black rims ended in the water of the bridge I always passed over to get home

And next to him was her

Not me 

Her

The girl who couldn’t follow

That day my friend died and I felt bad that I didn’t die with him. 

I hope the casket is covered in gold

And the hoes with chains fill every row

In the pews, I could hear his mother whisper in my ear about how I should have stayed 

This would have never happened and now we dig his grave

Years later, I stayed alive

But this is how my friend died

I still wonder why.

Love, Paola

#lovepaola #writing #my poerty #poetry #poetry on tumblr #writers and poets #excerpt from a story i'll never write

[adivebelow]

my body

Everyday, I look at myself in the mirror–everyday, my self image changes. Too fat, too skinny, too boxy, too long, too flat–too imperfect. I’ve only ever been focused on how I looked, not how I felt. I hurt my own feelings with my own opinions and judgment.

This morning, I looked in the mirror as I changed my clothes. Why do I look so fat? I haven’t even eaten anything I thought to myself. It was like this almost everyday, except for the days when I was too tired to care about anything. I continued on with my day like normal, riding the bus to school and making my way to my classes. I liked riding the bus, I got to talk to my close friends–they made me feel okay; they helped me forget about my struggles.

I always go to breakfast at school, solely to see my friends, but I usually don’t eat. Not recently, at least. Even though I regret it later into my day, it’s no big deal. Water fills me up enough. As long as I just drink some water, I’ll be fine. I don’t want to gain any more weight. Regardless of what people tell me, I still think I’m fat. I can deal with a couple of hunger pains, it’s not like it’ll kill me.

Halfway through 5th period, the pains started to feel unbearable, but I still had 2 periods until lunch. I didn’t want to eat, but I felt like I had to at that point. I wasn’t as strong as I thought I was.

Once I got to lunch, I sat down and talked to my boyfriend. I love my boyfriend. He makes me feel like it’ll be okay. He tries to make sure that I eat, but I don’t always tell him the truth. I wish I could, but I don’t want to disappoint him–so why don’t you just eat? Well, I don’t want to disappoint myself either. However, I did end up disappointing myself. For lunch, I had a lot. Guiltily, I ate, and I’ll admit it felt good, but I knew it wasn’t going to help me look at myself differently. If anything, it was probably going to make me judge myself even more later that day. 

When I got home, after a day full of socialization and laughs and happiness, it all started to hit me again. The dark feeling of self-hatred and critique. I lifted my shirt as I stared at my reflection, nitpicking every part of myself. I pulled at the more fatty parts of my stomach, I hated it. I traced the outline of my body, even though I had a couple of curves, it meant nothing compared to all of the things I didn’t have. I looked at my chest, wishing it would grow. I picked and pulled at my thighs, they were so oddly shaped. I stared at the gap between them, wishing it would just close–I always felt like it made me look awkward no matter how I stood. I turned to the side, analyzing how my figure looked from that angle. I looked wide and disproportionate. My rib cage looked like it was too big for the rest of my body, and I looked bloated. I hated my body so much, every part of it. No matter how much I tried to appreciate it, I found myself wishing to look like other people.

I haven’t had any kind of ‘liking’ for my body since I was 8 years old. When I was 8, I attended a day camp for most of the summer. I was almost always in a swimsuit–everyday, if it wasn’t raining, we went to the pool at least twice. One day while I was waiting for my parents to pick me up, I was on the swings next to a boy named Paul. I was still in my swimsuit because the last thing my group had done that day was go to the pool. Paul looked over at me, 

“Please don’t wear that again,” he said.

“Why not?” I questioned him, I saw nothing wrong with my swimsuit; it was a 2 piece–the top was pink, purple, and blue, tye dye while the bottoms were just purple.

“Your belly is out.” he pointed.

“Yeah, what about it?” he continued to perplex me.

“It’s big.” he explained.

I looked down at my stomach, my lip beginning to quiver as hot tears filled my eyes. When I got home, I buried my face in my pillow and sobbed. My dad asked me what was wrong, but I never told him; I just kept crying.

I never saw myself the same after that. As I got older, the kids I was surrounded by only got meaner.

When I was in 6th grade, I had a crush on a boy named Nathan. He was your classic, blue-eyed, blondie. Many girls had a crush on him, he was funny. I was a lot skinnier than I was when I was 8, and I saw that as progress. However, Nathan had set me back a while.

“You’re so short!” I teased, playfully joking around with him.

“Shut up, you’re flat!” he exclaimed–he wasn’t joking around with me anymore, he was serious. I went silent after that, but he didn’t take it into account. As the day progressed, I looked around the room, analyzing the other girls in my class–more specifically, the ones Nathan would talk to. I noticed that they all had bigger chests than I did. After that day, I gained a new insecurity.

Nathan moved away after Christmas break that year, but it didn’t get any easier after he left.

Shortly after he had moved away, a new boy joined our class. I didn’t have a crush on him, but he spoke similarly to the way Nathan did. His name was Jonothan. Not even a month after he had joined our class, he was constantly annoying me. Occasionally, he would say things about my body and how I was flat. Even though I didn’t say anything to him about it, it deeply affected me. Eventually, I ended up writing about it for a project–then I had to talk to the principal about what was going on. I’m unsure of the discipline he was given, or if he was given any at all, but he never said anything to me about it.

. . .

Years later, I still don’t completely love my body. It’s a work in progress, I guess you could say. I try not to be so judgmental towards myself, but there’s moments when I can’t control it. Regardless, I’m on a journey, trying to learn how to love myself. Some days it’s merely impossible, but some days I feel okay with embracing myself and my body. I know it will get easier for me eventually, it just takes time.

**To anyone who is experiencing an eating disorder, body dysmorphia, struggles with self esteem, confidence, or self image, I encourage you to reach out to someone for help. Your body is a temple, please care for it properly. You are worth more than you think–you withhold more beauty than you could ever know. Please, take care of yourself; that goes for everyone. No matter where you are on your journey and how hard it may get, just keep your head held high and remind yourself of your end goal. I love you.**

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