Yippee - Blog Posts

FUN FACT!!!!!!!!!!!1111 did you know that COOKIE CUTTER SHARKS have GLOWING/BIOLUMINESCENT BELLIES?!!!!!!!!?????????????

that's so when you look at them from below, you can't really see them!!!

they have three little lines on their bellies too so it looks like small fish!

their teeth also completely come out, jaws and all and regrow back really fast! like dentures

they can also eat their teeth for vitamins!

they use their teeth to eat whale blubber and their teeth are shaped like they are so they can easily access whale blubber! and they leave circle shaped holes like cookie cutters leaving shapes in dough

also most pictures or documented models of them that we have are really dehydrated, shriveled, and poorly preserved models that look nothing like how they actually look underwater

info source: shark research institute, octonauts

photo source: shark angels

i read two webcomics i was told about.. one (our walk home) it was awesome and the art is 👏🏼

and then the second (castle swimmer) i spent, 7 hours reading that one. and i STILL wasnt thru all the episodes 😭😭 BUT i finished all the free released ones and the story is p cool too! 😸😸

if u have any recommendations pls lmk 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

Tiktok

#minecraft #minecraftclips #mcyt #mcyts #mcytclips #streamer #youtuber #streamers #youtubers #etoiles #aretoiles #philza #philzaminecraft #ph1lza #ph1lzaminecraft #jaidenanimations #jaidenhere #cellbit #quackity #quackityhq #pactw #foolishg #foolishgamers #foolish_gamers #maximusqsmp #felpsqsmp #qsmp

Assuming my theory on what’s going to happen is correct, I’m literally winning in 12 days.

If Fit gets kidnapped — whisked away by Madagio to some unreachable wasteland — do you realize what that will leave behind?

An angry Brazilian motherfucker with a pension for impossible escapes, a kid under his protection that can’t afford to lose another father, and an insane chip on his shoulder. Plus, if you consider meta, Pac’s gonna have plenty of time to let the anger gradually build, which means possible training arc as he realizes just what kind of hellscape he’ll be diving into to find his lover.

YIPPEEE

look at this ugly ass dog I drew!!!

if this doesn’t get 6,000,000 notes in the next hour im unblocking my ex

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

I'm so happy because I don't have school until Tuesday!

Awwwwweeeee

Sound up

Hmm, I should probably sleep; but will I inevitably end up just scrolling through tumblr instead? Probably.

:D

Tfw when you're learning a second language and your friend decides to be very unhelpful.

Jedu(the bokoblin) is my oc and Wallace(the zora) belongs to my friend @bluebird-in-love

Yayyy i got 100 followers

i got rain world downpour!!

i would've updated earlier but i was so busy playing it that i forgot to update lol

time to continue playing it!!!!!!

vincent YAY

SEEMS LIKE FUN??

JOIN!!

👹

★— 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐸𝓅𝒾𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓉 𝐸𝓇𝒶𝓈𝑒𝒹 𝑅𝑜𝓁𝑒𝓅𝓁𝒶𝓎 𝒮𝑒𝓇𝓋𝑒𝓇 —★

This is a brand new Epithet Erased RP server! This is for chatting, but most importantly, roleplaying with Canon Characters and OC's alike. We are always willing to help tailor everyone's experiences here, to make them feel comfortable and happy. It's very small as of now, but we're hoping to grow into a fun community.

★— Open to Original Characters ★— Friendly staff ★— New events to come ★— Self assignable roles ★— LGBT+ friendly

Thank you for your time! [CURRENTLY LOOKING FOR MORE MODERATORS!]

reblogs are appreciated!

Screw if it's Monday I wanna do this

I feel more respected

I'm finally getting my hair cut

I'm finally feeling free to be me even so early on in my troublesome proccess and life

Alright, today is Transsexual Thursday; put in the reblogs, tags, or on anon the things you have loved about your transness/transition/presentation/anything related to being trans! We can never have too much positivity about the joy of creation 💛

Chapter 2 is out!! 

hi hi i really enjoyed your oneshot "Amber Waves," and it's inspired me to write my own stan x reader fic :)

if it's alright, i'd like to credit you for the idea (if i ever end up publishing it lol)

This literally warms my heart to bits. Of course you can! 💜

I love infinite craft, so much 😔🙏 this isnt even all I have 😭😭

It's eel day!!!

Hi!!! My new tablet finally arrived, golly! I'm so happy I can draw again and sketch on my puter, silly little daisy sketch as a treat :3c

I got so lucky my tablet was on sale and it didn't take that long to arrive (I sound like an ad lolz)

Some Jack Stauber doodles because I love him and his music so much!! :3c

💕

Please, when u have the time, more Pietro stuff 😭😭😭 ur writing for him is excellent and I need more!! Headcanons, stories, idc I just need more Quicksilver written by u.

Enemies to lovers!Quicksilver/GN!reader - pt 2 It's finally here!! I'm sorry if there are any spelling mistakes. Also, I think the ending is probably the most dialogue heavy scene I've done so far, and I'm not entirely happy with it, but i wanted to post this so bad!! I might go back and edit later though. Hope you all enjoy!! TWS: Fighting, passive aggression, full on aression kinda, logan is a worried asshole big brother, Professor X watching his tragedy not quite repeat. Pietro is kinda an ass but he's a broken ass so its okay.

You and Pietro had a weird relationship. And it seemed to just spiral into even weirder territories and murkier waters. Each and every interaction tiptoed into something a little more than just enemies, and one night you think the two of you fully crossed the line. You were sure of it, and it was just the start.

    You’re finally starting to fall asleep when there’s a sudden whoosh of air and grunt of pain. It startles you, and you sit straight up in bed, leaning over to flicker on the light. When your eyes finally adjust, you see Pietro standing by the window, hunched over in clear distress.

    “Pietro? What are you doing here?” You ask, But he doesn’t respond. His suit is ripped and bloody, and various deep cuts litter his skin. You swear he’s about to pass out as he stands in front of you, swaying just a little like he did on that day at the beach. Whatever fight he had just been through, it had taken a little more out of him than that fast metabolism could heal so quickly. 

    “Are you okay?” You ask, wide-eyed at him. Pietro grimaces in a way that looks more angry than it does pained, and yet he still says nothing. Unable to deal with the idea of admitting he needs help, you assume.

    He’s sitting on your bed now, naked from the waist up as you stitch his wounds. He’s been silent the whole time, only offering a wince or grunt every now and then with particularly tender wounds. Right now you’re on your knees as you stitch up a rather deep cut on his upper side, his arms keeping his balance as he leans back on your bed.

    “Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask eventually. Pietro’s chest pulls on the stitches just a little as he huffs in annoyance, regretting the action a moment too late.

    “If I did, I would be.” He snaps. You raise an eyebrow at him as you begin a new stitch, piercing the skin perhaps a tad less cautious than you had been before.

    “Take it easy, speedster. ‘Last time I checked I was the one with the needles in my hand.” You snark. Pietro has nothing more to say to that, instead turning his head away so that he doesn’t have to look at you. It doesn’t take a genius to know he’s a bit embarrassed at this whole situation, and you feel a bit bad for him. Out of all the places he could have gone to, there had to be a reason he chose to come here. You just couldn’t tell what that reason was. 

    You’re gentle while you finish wrapping him in bandages, and he can’t seem to look you in the eyes even for a second. When you reach out to brush some dirt off of his face, he finally meets your eyes. He’s a little less guarded than he was before, but the wall between the two of you still remains. There's a quick gust of wind as he moves towards the open window, stopping just before he leaves.

    “...Thank you.” He says after a moment, looking at you from the corner of his eye. You smile at him, a warm feeling in your chest. The difference in his attitude was noticeable, and the fact that he was acting even a little less cold with you was reassuring.

    “You’re welcome.” You reply, and then he’s gone again, having closed the window behind him this time.

The difference between the two sides of Pietro you saw was so jarring. You were so used to the cocky asshole that spent all his effort in terrorizing you, not the quiet, almost angry, and guarded man that stood before you that night- and the many nights afterward.

The second time he showed up, this time woundless and simply laid on your bed to rant, you were surprised but didn’t mind it. Then it happened again, and again, and then came the board games, the nights of talking endlessly, and the midnight snacking. 

And eventually, Pietro started to climb into your bed. He never spoke a word when he did, simply pulling back the covers and pulling you close, pressing his face into the back of your neck. Nights like this were vulnerable, and tender. Quiet. He came to you in need of comfort often, and you were willing to be his safe space for as long as he wanted.

The more he came to you, hurt or angry or sad, the more concerned you became. And you were upfront about it, much to his dismay.

     “You know, I get that we’re on two different sides of things- but you know that the school’s doors are always open to those who need it, right?” You ask, late one night after he had crawled into bed by your side. You were facing him, hand curling on the pillow an inch away from his face, fighting the urge to brush his bangs away from his forehead. Immediately, he has a negative reaction to it. He scowls, recoiling away from you as he glares. You know it should hurt worse than it does, but all you can see is the hurt he's feeling right now.

    “The last thing I need is for another person to tell me what to do.” He snaps, turning his head away from you as he sits up and runs his hand through his hair, aggravated. You sit up on the bed a little further, almost wanting to reach for him, but you don’t.

    “Pietro, You know that’s not what I meant-” You say, softy.

    “Does it matter what you meant?” Pietro practically cuts you off. His tone is sharp, and it hurts you for a second. You frown at him- not that he could see it anyway, and the hurt quickly turns to aggravation on your end.

    "Yes, it does. I'm not bossing you around, I'm just telling you that the X-men- myself included- are here if you need any help." You huff, watching as he practically rolls his eyes at you and stands, looming over the bed as he turns to look at you.

    "The telling part is the problem. Everyone tells me that I could do something, but what they mean is that I should do it." He snaps. You move over to his side of the bed before standing, almost in a challenge. The two of you are now almost uncomfortably close, to the point where you’re sure if you moved an inch your noses would be touching.

    "Well, What if that's not what I’m doing but you're just reading it that way?" You say, meeting his gaze. Pietro was never one to back down from a confrontation, especially not one with you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him quite this angry at you before, rocky past be damned.

    "So you’re saying I'm overanalyzing?" He says, and you groan at the fact that nothing you said was getting through to him, pushing the palms of your hands into the outer edge of your eye sockets. 

    "I'm saying that I'm not your dad-" 

    "And what would you know about my family?!" Pietro yells, and you’re quick to look back up at him, scowling. 

    "Don't raise your voice at me!” You snap, pushing a finger into his chest. “I know enough to know that your dad controls every aspect of what you do, and that's not fair to you." You tell him.

    "Don't pretend that you understand or care about any of that" Pietro says, grabbing ahold of your hand rather tightly. God! You did not understand why he couldn’t get it through his thick fucking skull!

    "I do care, Pietro!" The words burst out of you, almost uncontrollably. You slam your other fist into his chest, tears of frustration welling in your eyes as you look at him. His eyes are wide, looking shocked and confused. You’re beginning to lose your fight, leaning against his chest, still somewhat caught in his grip despite the fact that his hold on your hand had become light, and still, it felt confining. 

    "I may not understand why you do what you do, but I do care about you." Your words come out quieter this time, blinking away those stupid tears that had started to well. Pietro’s eyebrows are furrowed, eyes searching your own, but you don't know what for. The two of you stand there for what feels like forever for both of you speedsters, but was surely more like a split second. You’re still pressed up against his chest, faces so close they could touch.

    And then they did.

    Pietro is the first to kiss you, leaning in and quickly cupping the back of your neck with his free hand, almost in a possessive manner. Once his thoughts have finally caught up with his actions, he pulls back. He looks at you, wide-eyed at his own actions before you gently pull him back in for another kiss. It only takes a moment to click before he sighs into you, melting into the kiss. His kisses are tender, sweet presses of his lips against your own. After a few long moments, you slowly pull away from him. He rests his forehead against your own, a fond look in his eyes that you were sure you mirrored. 

From that night on, his nightly visits to you meant something more than they had in the past.

That didn’t mean that they went unnoticed by others, however, and one day you found yourself being called into the professor's study. Of course you were a little worried, but you were so sure that there was no way anyone could have noticed, right?

    Logan is standing next to the professor's desk when you enter the room, frowning with his arms crossed. Professor Xavier on the other hand sits rather calmly, inviting you to sit down. You choose to stand instead, cocking your head at them.

    “Wow. What is this, an intervention?” You joke, trying to laugh off the oddness of the situation.

    “Yup.” Logan snorts. You shoot him a confused and slightly panicked look that the professor picks up on immediately.

    “There’s no need to worry, my dear.” The professor says calmly. “We just had a few concerns about-” 

    “We know that Magneto’s brat has been sneaking into your room.” You almost flinch at Logan's accusatory tone, bristling with a sudden flash of embarrassment and then anger at him for what he calls Pietro. “I’ve been smelling his scent on you for weeks.” Logan finishes, and you’re so taken aback you don’t know what to say at first, mouth hanging open in shock.

    “Easy, Logan.” The professor says, raising an eyebrow at the furry man, but Logan isn’t listening, approaching you with a scowl on his face.

    “Have you ever heard the phrase, no fraternizing with the enemy, kid?” He continues, and the close contact has you bristling again, unwilling to back down.

    “Logan.” The professor tries again, unsuccessfully.

    “Look, the first time he came to me he was injured. I wasn’t going to turn him away.” You finally say, fists clenching as you ignore Logan before looking back at the professor instead.

    “I understand that. In fact, I’m thankful that you could be so forgiving towards Pietro, despite the past the two of you share.” The professor states, but his words hardly relieve you.

    “Then what is the problem?” You ask, exacerbated by this whole interaction already. Logan seems to be angry that you’re ignoring him but snorts at your question.

    “-The problem is that you shouldn’t be letting him in your knickers.” You gasp at Logan's accusation, and the professor looks appalled. 

    “Logan!” Professor X scolds as you struggle and scrabble for words, now both embarrassed, mortified, and rather flush in the face.

    “-Excuse you! We weren’t- we’ve never!” It’s a struggle to finally find your words, and even more embarrassing to be so caught off guard. What kind of asshole accuses someone of that out in the freaking open?! In front of your mentor no less?!

    “Sure you haven’t. That’s why your bed doesn’t smell like him.” Logan rolls his eyes, and you refrain from punching him in the face right then and there.

    “Well if your stupid nose was as good as you say it is, you would know that we haven't done anything just by the smell!”

    “Just because it hasn’t happened now-” 

    ENOUGH! Both of you! The professor silenced the argument with a single thought. Both you and Logan feel scolded, and yet still bitter about the other. You cross your arms in a bit of a defensive manner ad the two of you turn back to face the professor.

    “This was never supposed to be an argument, simply a conversation.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. You scoff at that, sending a pointed look in Logan’s direction.

    “Well maybe, Logan should learn to stay out of my business!” You say, only for the professor to hold his hand up for you to stop, simply hoping both you and Logan would quit continuing to dig this hole deeper and deeper.

    “I’ve heard enough.” Professor X states. “We were simply concerned about the nature of the relationship between the two of you, seeing that you have been growing closer. I know your mind, and I trust you to stay by the X-men’s side.”

    “Then what is this?” You ask, the words coming out as more of a whisper. Logan sighs, looking regretful but ever the stubborn ass. He looks at you again moving to where he can lean against the professor’s desk again.

    “... Look, Kid. we just don’t want you to get hurt. Anything between you and Pietro isn’t going to end well.” Logan says. You feel a little more understanding of him now, but only a bit, with him back to acting like he normally did. He was always an older brother figure to you, but that did not give him the right to air out your business, even if the professor could find out everything that had been happening with the barest glimpse into your mind. Still, you scowl just slightly at Logan, looking away from him. He sighs again, and with a nod from the professor, leaves the room. The professor nods you over to him, wheeling his way towards the bookshelf with one particular photo on it. One of him and Magento in their college days.

    “You are an adult. I cannot stop you from making your own decisions.” The professor starts. You find yourself tracing the features of the young Erik, finding the image of Pietro in every part of his father's face. The professor looks at you, and all he can see is a face so similar to his own. “I too, understand what it is like to hold affection for someone so distantly aligned from you. It’s due to that understanding that I worry for you. I…” The professor trails off and you turn to look at him with a frown. You knew. You know. The two of you are so different from each other, but surely that didn’t mean you would be enemies forever? He wouldn’t hurt you in the way that Magneto had hurt the professor so many times before… would he? Professor Xavier reaches out to take your hand in both of his own, squeezing it reassuringly.

    “Just be careful, my dear.” 

    “I understand, professor.” 

Nightcrawler/GN! reader - part 1 - part 2 - part 3 It's finally here!! I didn't finish it in one chapter like I wanted to but I'm just glad to have something finished lol. Please be cautious while reading however!! read the tws please!! Sorry if it seems a bit rushed. TWs: circus fire, depictions of violence, depictions of animal cruelty/animal death mentioned. Drugging/sedatives (poor kurt), panic, people are awful, I made stephan an asshole sorry if it's OOC. Margali Szardos the queen u are. Hurt/no comfort this chapter. next chapter will be fluffy and sweet I promise.

    You never really got that reunion with Kurt that he had promised.

    With each week that passed by, you saw him less and less. Each meeting was just simple greetings and pleasantries, and then apologies as he was ushered off by his brother, or the choreographer, or the ringleader himself. The distance you could handle. The lack of time together, you could handle. The one thing that really had you worried was that each time you saw Kurt, he had look more and more tired, worked to the bone, and drowsy. This continued, on and on, until eventually, you stopped seeing Kurt all altogether. 

    You asked about him frequently when you spoke with the animal trainers, only to be met with a shrug, or indifference, and an overall lack of concern. You had no time to speak with his mother or sister, only receiving some understanding looks that seemed just as worried and sad as you were. You only tried to speak with his brother once, and some sharp words and a cold shoulder later, you decided that would be the last time you would speak to him.

    You were worried, and each week that passed you became more and more anxious. You snuck around the circus, tackling one area at a time, but no dice. Even his old living quarters hadn’t been touched in months- and that was the strangest part. You knew he was still at the circus. You heard him being announced to the crowd every night. So where was he? Why the scarcity? You had been so overcome with anxiety and worry that for the longest time, you had even stopped hearing the words of animals as you passed by- only hearing them when you focused. You knew they were speaking, you could still understand them- but every word seemed to escape your conscious. 

    You’re leaving the stables late one night when a flap of wings and and the sudden perch of a bird on a nearby wheelbarrow startles you. It’s a crow. He cocks his head at you in a manner you can only describe as curious, and a bit amused. His beady eyes glint mischievously in the low light.

    Hi. He says. You furrow your brows at him, confused as to why he would be here, talking to you like this. You’ve never met a crow that wasn’t out to receive something, despite how loyal the creatures can be once they attach themselves to someone.

    You’re the one who listens, aren’t you? He asks, and you hesitate, looking around to make sure the area is clear of any stray staff before you respond.

    “... Yes, I am.” You say quietly. He hops towards you, up the length of the wheelbarrow’s handles in an excited manner and perching at the very end, chest-level with you.

    You’ve been looking for the blue one. I’ve seen you lingering. He says, and the words give your heart a bit of a jump-start.

    “Do you know where he is?” You ask immediately, a little louder than you had meant to. The crow jumps a bit in surprise at your eagerness, before he relaxes with a sound that sounds much like a laugh you swear you had heard before.

    Do I? Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t. The crow says, cocking his head at you again. What are you willing to give me in return? The nerve of this corvid! A spark of anger ignites within you, and you have to hold yourself back from wringing the poor thing's neck. You had never, ever met a crow that wasn’t out to get something, but this one in particular was more infuriating than any other crow you had ever met.

    “Don’t play games with me, crow. This isn’t a playful matter!” You spit, venomous words causing the crow to cry out and flap his wings, jumping away from you.

    Sheesh! Alright, alright. Can’t blame a bird for trying. He says, casually preening his chest feathers in a way that feels entirely to sarcastic. You’re lucky that he’s treated me well in the past. You begin to ask what that was supposed to mean, but knowing Kurt, you wouldn't doubt that he was sneaking meals to other animals besides the horses.  When the crow is finished preening, he ruffles his feathers and hops back down the wheelbarrow.

    Follow me.

    The crow leads you around the circus. Through dark walkways and creepy storage carts, and you begin to wonder more and more where on earth he was taking you- desperate for any clue about Kurt but still distrustful of the creature ahead of you. Eventually, he leads you to the cages where the exotic animals were kept when not in practice or performing. You take extra care to be as silent as a mouse as you walk through the rows and rows of cages each animal is kept in. You’re confused as to why the crow would take you here of all places, but if there was any hope in finding Kurt….

    The crow lands on top of a cage up ahead, and you recognize that it seems to be a fairly new one- cool steel and iron bars unpainted compared to the rest of them- which were colored brightly in a way you can only assume was to make it seem like they were much kinder and better suited to the animals that they contained- happy colors equal happy creatures, right? Wrong. You can see a shivering lump in the cage, but it’s so dark out that you can’t seem to figure out just what it was. The poor thing hardly had a blanket or a cushion to keep it warm, and as you get closer, you spot dark skin, a devilish tail, and eventually, you see pointed ears too.

    Oh god.

    The creature before you wasn’t an it, it was a him. Your him. 

    “Kurt?” His head lifts only slightly, loling to the side, and you know something is very, very wrong. You’re panicked as you frantically search your pockets for the cage’s skeleton key, the one the trainers had given to you, and your hands are shaking when you open the lock. The lock. They locked him in there. When you’re inside, you fall to your knees, holding Kurt’s face in your hands. His eyes are slowly blinking open like the action is taking all of his effort. He groans in a drowsy discomfort.

    “What have they done? What’s happened to you?” You ask, hands shaking as you brush the hair out of his face. This time, when his eyes blink open, they look at you- although a bit hazy and unfocused.

    “You came to see me…” He says, face slowly morphing into a smile as he leans into your touch. It breaks your heart. Absolutely shatters it. Dear god- What had they done to him for him to be so- so-

    “Kurt, I need you to focus, please.” You say, your voice breaking as you begin to tear up. Kurt doesn’t respond, leaning further into you to where his head is basically in your lap. Your hands have been running through his hair in a way you can't even call soothing, a nervous tick beginning to form as your mind races. You’re nearly hyperventilating now as you call his name, trying to get him to wake up- to look at you.

    They’ve been sedating him. 

    The sound of the low rumble nearly startles you. You look up with blurry eyes, and in the cage across from Kurt is Nyla, the circus’ trained tiger, stretched out and resting her head on her crossed front paws. Her eyes glint in the low light, reflecting back at you. You don’t even know what to say.

    They do it with almost all of us. Nyla continues a somber tone in her voice.

    “All of who, Nyla?” You ask once you’ve finally found your words, Kurt drowsily begins to mumble nonsense in your lap. Nyla raises her head a little.

    The attractions. The non-human ones. She says- and suddenly, you feel like the situation has become so much worse. Oh god, you were sure you were about to be sick.

    “They- they can’t possibly have. They raised him here- they know him. Why would they do that?” You whisper. It doesn’t make sense to you. This was his family. The only family he had ever known- and his strangeness in all its glory had never been a problem before. Why now? Why now would they treat him as an animal? As something to be feared instead of the son, nephew, brother that they had raised? Why?!

    Same reason they do it to the rest of us. Nyla replies, resting her head again. For control. 

    You swear that those simple words had plunged your world into silence.

    You look frantically back and forth between Kurt and Nyla, shaky hands still touching Kurt’s face as he sighs and leans into you, a bit of discomfort beginning to shine through, what you can only assume was the side-effects of tranquilizer. You had seen them use the stuff on particularly rowdy and upset animals, you knew how awful it could make them feel. You are trying so very hard not to cry, but you are slowly loosing the battle. You know you need to do something, anything at all, but you can’t seem to pull your thoughts together, not before-

    They’re coming back, They’re coming back! The crow caws loudly, grabbing your attention. You know you need to go, but you can’t leave him here. Not like this. You can’t. He shouldn’t be here. He’s human. He’s not an animal. He may look different- be a mutant like yourself, but you know he’s still human. Of course, he is. He’s your Kurt, and he’s hurting, and you can’t leave him here. You just can’t.

    Listen to the crow. Nothing good will come from them finding you here. Nyla says, and when you look at her this time, you are crying. Nothing good was given to his sister when she did the same. The tears sting your eyes and burn your cheeks, and you don’t want to go. You don’t want to leave him, but if you get caught, there would be one less person to help him escape. You know you can’t take that risk. Animals begin to stir as footsteps approach around the corner, and the crow anxiously hops back and forth on the top of Kurt’s cage, once again reminding you that you need to leave now. You look back at Kurt, holding his face tightly now as his half-lidded eyes slowly blink open and closed.

    “I’m coming back for you, Okay? I promise.” You tell him, tears falling from your face and onto his cheeks. He’s once again looking at you, but he seems hazed still, loopy and delirious.

    “Du bist wunderschön… an angel of my very own.” Kurt mumbles, but you don’t have another moment to spare. You press a kiss to his forehead, gently laying his head back down as you quickly leave the cage and lock it behind you, no matter how painful it is. You can’t help but continue to look back at his cage as you leave, the image cementing in your mind as you run from that place, the crow following close behind you.

    You had to do something, you were sure of it, but you knew it had to be soon. A pit had settled in your stomach again, and you knew that something very bad was going to happen.

     You would be right.

    The next time you saw the colorful tents of the circus, it would be in flames.

    You were frantic, having arrived that night with a plan to help Kurt escape, only to come face to face with your worst nightmare. Performers and staff were gathered a safe distance away, many holding you back as you tried to run into the flames, desperate and heartbroken over your friend. Your friends. The calls and cries and roars and whinnies of pain were more than you could bear. They were in pain. They were dying. After all the pain and suffering they had gone through in their life, they were DYING. 

    The nails of the hands holding you back leave scratches when you rip yourself from her grasp- the grasp of Kurt’s mother, Margali. She calls for you as you run into the flames, but you cannot hear her. You’re closest to the stables, and you fling open the door, pushing and shoving with all your might. The cries of terror ring in your ears as you open each stall one by one, urging each and every horse, pony and zebra to run as fast and as hard as they can. Bubbles is the last to go before the building crumbles, and then you’re running to the cages, praying, praying that the fire has not spread there yet.

    It had.

    You tried to open them, you really did, but it was too hot. The metal was burning your hands, the smoke filling your lungs. You cant see through the smoke as you try to find Kurt’s cage. You’re struggling, unable to see, the fire becoming too close and singeing your hair. A pair of hands grab you by the arms, and tugs you to a stop.

    It’s Stephan. He looks concerned and enraged. He’s saying something, but you can't hear him over the sounds of the animals and the crackle of the flames. The tents that were close by begin to crumble, and you look on in horror. He grabs you again and tugs you along with him as he runs. You cough and stumble and cry, and when he finally leads you out of the flames, he turns around to scold you.

    “What are you doing?! Are you crazy?!” He says, chest heaving. You’re coughing and struggling to breathe, falling to your knees as you sob.

    “I- I was…” You struggle to cough out.

    “What?! What was so important you had to run into those flames like an idiot?! The lives of any stupid animal aren’t worth losing your own!” He shouts, and you can’t find your anger through your absolute despair.

    “...Kurt.” You finally cough out. “I was trying to find Kurt. I need to- he could be-” You can't finish your sentence before you have another coughing fit, placing your arms on the ground to steady you as you try to recover. You’re jerked forward in an instant, Stephan having fallen to his knees and yankin' you off-balance by violently tugging you by the arms. You’re almost… Afraid of him, all in your face like this. He’d never been a calm man, but this rage was…

    “Kurt?! KURT?! That bastard mutant set the damn fire! It’s his fault! Let him die in it!” You’re terrified as he screams in your face, trying to struggle out of his bruising grip. No- no that’s not right. That can’t be. He’s a liar! He’s always been jealous of Kurt, He’s lying again.

    Leave them alone, Douchebag! The caw comes from your left as the Crow from before swoops in on him, dive-bombing his head and eyes. Stephan screams in anger and frustration as he violently pushes you away, swatting at the corvid as he attacks him. You watch as one swat connects, sending the Crow flying into the dirt. You call out for it, scrambling by the crow's side as you glare at Stephan, who begins to approach with a deadly look on his face. Every primal instinct you have is screaming at you. This is face of a killer. He’s going to kill the crow. He might kill you, too.

    “Stephan!” He stops in his tracks at the sound of his name, and you’re gathering the crow into your arms as Margali Szardos steps into view. Stephan huffs as he walks to his mother’s side, sending you and the crow one last glance. They begin to fight in hushed voices, leaving you an onlooker in something that seems over your head.

    Kurt escaped. The crow says from your lap. You look down at him in surprise, holding him gently as he makes small sounds of pain, injured from the hard hit. He’s okay. He didn’t set the fire. Not on purpose. My Mistress made sure he was okay.

    “Mistress…?” You mumble, watching as the crow cocks his head in the direction of the fighting family, and when your eyes fall upon Margali, It all begins to click.

    “Where is he?” You ask, heart thudding in your chest. 

    I don’t know. He says. He disappeared in a puff of smoke. I couldn’t find him. 

    The words have you distraught again. You have to find him. You promised you would be back for him, and you weren’t. You were too late- now many of your friends were dead, and all you could think about was finding the one person you needed to know was still alive and okay.

    We will find him. The fighting stops, and when you look up, Stephan is trudging away. Margali watches him leave, elegant as ever with a somber look in her eye, and turns to look at you, shattered and stained by soot and smoke, her closest confidant safe in your lap. She knows that you will look for him. She asked if I would help you- and I will. 

    Margali turns away from the two of you, disappearing into the woods behind her son.

    You had to find Kurt.

I still have an hour until Pride Month ends you WILL look at my headcanons-

Putting up an old piece I made! I can't believe this is 3 years old now what the hell

I'm still proud of it but I think a redraw is in order someday :)

clawthornes

bonzeye <3

trick or treat! :D

treat!! shoves a giant lollipop into your hands