#I can definitely pick out some things that it manifested in my brain though | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stevenbasic · 9 months

Text

GITJ Post 337: Saturday at Melissa's, p12 (10 PM: Melissa)

<bong. bong.>>

That clock, that silly clock of my mom’s in the great room, was chiming for ten o’clock.

<<Bong. Bong.>>

I was walking downstairs, in the cute new outfit and heels I’d picked up at the mall this afternoon, after changing in my bedroom while he napped again downstairs. This evening was going so well we were doing so good with him by Monday I’ll have his brain trained just right haha I’m kidding.

<<Bong. Bong!>>

Even me myself, after my nice talk with Shanette and seeing how good the girls were treating him, I had been able to take some time for a new manifestation in my bedroom mirror, still wearing this poor bikini. A manifestation to make everything I wanted real. Something that was going to help me, I thought, take Jay and me to the next level:

<<Bong! Bong!>>

That’s so weird, the foyer’s chandelier shaking like that with the chimes, the picture frames that just rattled on the wall. It’s like the clock was making the whole house sh-….oh wait. That’s not the clock haha. That’s my footsteps omigod. Anyway, my manifestation a few minutes ago was:

Manifestation: I am his protector, big and beautiful and strong. He looks to me and my girls for everything, everything he needs. He is happy to depend on me, for safety and for love and warmth. And for everything. With my girls and with what is happening to me I can provide for him and keep him safe and haha okay that’s enuffff..!

<<Bong!!>>

I was getting so excited, as I came to the bottom of the stairs. My footsteps were fucking making the house shake. And, it’d been a perfect day so far and he was here. This new knit sweater, and this big ol' bra, could barely contain my beating heart which was oh gosh so loud. That and the sounds of my heels on the hardwood - these crazy big heels that Shanette made me buy - almost now completely drowned out the clock’s chime as I rounded the corner to find him on the couch with the girls, waking right up as soon as I appeared and his eyes going super wide-

<<BONG!!>>

Ten chimes, and here I was, back again in the big big room of my mothers big big house looking at my little little guy among all my big big friends. The lights were still kinda down, but flickered a little when I arrived. He had just jumped out of Josie’s embrace. After he came last - his eighth of the day they tell me haha - he’d passed out right there on my lap. I’d left him to go change, and gave the girls the new jammie’s I’d bought for him at Hera’s. As he slept they’d gotten him into them - he looks so cute…but is that a new hickie? - and Josie cuddled him up into her on the couch, with all the pillows. She and some of the other girls had brought their pajamas too and were now out of their swimsuits. Josie wanted to make sure the first thing he saw when he woke up was her cleavage; I know that feeling, that’s such a great feeling. But, even though he woke up with his face in her chest his eyes - those big, shell-shocked eyes - were now on me.

Good.

Jay would definitely remember this weekend, what happened this Saturday…eventually. He’d remember it for a looonnngg time, but not right away of course, no. He would, for a while, feel like it was just a long, sexy dream. After tonight was over it’d slowly come back to him, his afternoon, the time in the pool, in the hot tub, with the sushi and on the couch during the movie. He’d start to recall how the girls grew, right in front of his eyes. Someday he’d realize that it wasn’t a dream and that he was a little smaller than he was when he came in through my door on Friday night. He’d begin to remember it all, eventually, and I’d be there for him if he got scared. I got warm just thinking about it. He’d remember, and he’d need me - but tonight I was going to show him how he needs me for other things…

We’d tuned down our perfumes a bit. I had to ask the girls to, so he could come back to us not so mushy. I needed him to remember at least a little of tonight, and be able to speak in semi-full sentences haha. So now, as he was sat up straight, woken by the sound of my heels, I could tell he was confused. He was turned on the couch looking at me as I ducked under the door frame into the great room. Everyone was so big and tall to him. Especially me.

“Hi sweetie,” I purred, feeling my voice go deeper than normal as I immediately soaked in the goggle-eyed stare he was giving me. The poor thing, I can’t blame him. In this new thick, wide-striped sweater of blue and green my boobs looked huge, my abs and tiny waist showing just a bit underneath it. In this short, white pleated skirt I picked off the racks my tanned legs were huge and bare and I was sure he could see the muscles bulging, thighs and calves. But it was probably those heels, those crazy white platform heels that Shanette insisted I buy, that brought on the dumbfounded, open-mouthed reaction I was getting from him when I appeared in the doorway. My head would have hit the frame, if I hadn’t ducked. “Stand up, sweetie,” I told him, as he sat next to Josie and Lakshmi and Katie, “You heard the clock. It’s ten. It’s past your bedtime. Come on, let me take you upstairs.”

The girls giggled, and the ones around him stood. Others watched, either from up on the balcony, out in the kitchen, or on the couch painting one another’s toenails and watching an episode of the Bachelor on TV. The new season was all female bodybuilders.

“He has a bedtime now, does he?” Amelia drawled, from over on an overstuffed chair. She was looking into her phone, filming herself, sometimes pointing her camera at Jay. Was she streaming?

“All little boys should,” Shanette answered, meeting my eyes with another shared smile. She was wearing those cute red-heart pajamas of hers, and had been such a good friend to me today, getting me ready for tonight. Omigod I was so excited for this!

Lakshmi and Katie had taken him by the arms in support as his weak legs tried to find their balance. He seemed overcome by some funny look on his face, all open-mouthed; I think they’d call it awe. In these heels I was 7’5”. I knew! I checked! I’m a size 15, now, and these are platform stilettos. Can you believe they even carried them? Haha I don’t think they ever expected anyone to buy them. The shoes gave me ten inches, and I couldn’t believe how tall I was. And him? Him?! They told me they measured him at under five feet earlier today and omigod as he stood up I knew I just freakin’ knew he’d gotten smaller still. Omigod omigod omigod, look at him. He looked…tiny. With the girls’ help he took his first step, slowly, shyly towards me just like I nnnngh… just like I’d asked him to, he looked like a little boy in his cute new blue polka-dot pj’s, matching bottoms and top, all buttoned-up. Flannel and perfect and mmmhahannnyessss. Holy crappp I was getting so excited, so so so too excited I haha I had to calm down. Breathe, Missy, breathe!

But omigod, as the girls let him go, to walk on his own, I started to realize how really short he was compared to me. His nose was, like, at my belly-button! Goddddd all the feelings. I shhould have maybe taken my meds that night haha.

“How does she look?” Josie asked him, as he took another step, but then froze.

His eyes, his eyes went up me, from my big feet, up my long massive legs, over my breasts and finally to my eyes. I smiled at him, waiting for what he was going to say, but he didn’t really seem able to talk. I knew we’d toned down the perfumes, so this must just be a man’s natural reaction to seeing an Amazon with hips above his shoulders and a 57-inch bustline haha.

“You look like a cheerleader on steroids,” Amelia commented. Haha the outfit probably did do that.

“Do you like your giant cheerleader?” Randi prodded.

“Poor thing’s speechless, I guess,” giggled Katie. She was probably 5’10” at this point, and was still in the old blue bikini of mine she’d borrowed. “Are you speechless, hm?” she asked.

I saw him struggling, embarrassed, and part of me wanted to just scoop him up and take him right away. But I knew this was important, and haha it was fun. So, I just cocked my head and waited for him to answer Josie’s question. Yes, honey. How do I look?

“It’s important that you say it, Daddy,” Josie told him, from where she stood behind him. Even she and Lakshmi looked so tall compared to him.

“How does she look, Dr. J?” urged Lakshmi. She was so cute in her casual PJs, but she’d say her butt looked too big in her soft white shorts, her boobs bulging too much out of her blue tank.

Finally, he found his words. “B-big,” he answered.

The room giggled, loving that answer. I did too. But Josie pressed on. “Big, yes. Very big. And how does that make you feel?” she continued.

“L-like she’s…” His voice trailed off.

“Like she’s what?” Aubrey asked, from where she sat in the couch’s corner, curled up like a cat. Speaking of, where was..?

“Like she’s very strong,” Jay answered, his eyes locked onto mine.

I nearly sighed, and definitely shivered, hearing him say that. Yes, I am strong. I am really, really fucking strong.

“Strong? So she can do what?” Josie asked. Good girl, good Josie, doing this for me.

His eyes saw mine gleaming, sparkling I’m sure. He knew what I wanted him to say. “P-protect me?” he managed.

“Very good,” Josie said. Yes, good boy.

“And, it turn you on?” came Katarina, sitting next to Aubrey in my mom’s soft terry cloth robe, “seeing twoja żona, you wife so much bigger than you?”

Holy shit.

“M-my wife?” he asked, gaze breaking from mine to look back at the girls on the couch. They were all watching him - the whole room was, really - with intrigued interest. Somebody took a picture, and Amelia was definitely live-streaming. My own heart had fluttered with the word - ‘wife’. Oh jeez, I just felt myself gushing, so wet. Just a slip up in Katarina’s English but haha.

“‘Wife’’, Kat?” Randi echoed, in her smoky voice, “Maybe you meant ‘mommy’?”

Omigod that was even better!

The girls giggled all around us. On the TV, the bachelor was being shown up by his hulking blonde date at the gym.

My eyes found Shanette again. Having Jay say it, admit it in front of all the girls would be amazing, awesome, especially since he hadn't really talked about his own shrinking too much. But awww omigod the poor thing I knew how humiliating and even dangerous to our relationship it might be if this all happened too fast. And, haha, it was so unlike me but I really wanted to put his - a guy’s - feelings first. I was already working to keep my energy under control, trying and struggling to keep my emotions haha normal. I’ve been taught tricks, techniques, how to relax and I needed them now. Breathe like they told me. Breathe and focus. Breathe and…what was it? Oh yeah…focus. Ahhh. Good. I knew that if I let loose things could go off the rails and no one wants that. Shanette, in fact, saw something in my eyes and stood up from where she’d sat, and started coming towards me.

I can do this, I can keep it together. I looked down, and saw the framed pic of me from sophomore year, on the coffee table. The girls had told me what they caught him doing with it earlier this afternoon, that they had to clean him up. “I hear you’ve seen some of the pictures my mom has around the house of me,” I said, as I stepped over to pick it up, now standing right in front of him. Omigod I’m a fucking giant. “You liked this one?” I began, studying the young girl in the picture, in her schoolgirl outfit and already growing into her boobs. I cleaned off a smudge of something crusty from the glass with my finger, and remembered the moment when the picture was taken. I looked so bored! And I had been. I was never very good at those things my mom used to teach me, not nearly as good as my sister. “I was 15. I’ve grown up a little since then…as you can tell.”

At that, I stood up as straight as I could. In my heels, and with my new height I was almost two feet taller than the girl in that picture. And compared to him? Here, now? I towered over him, ridiculously. I could barely see him under the shelf of my big boobs. He was a small, small man that even 15 year-old Missy Monroe holding her mom’s books would have dwarfed.

“Jesus…look at you two, Missy,” Josie marveled. Yes, look at us. All of you…look at us.

“Yeah, in those heels?” Lakshmi followed.

“It’s amazing you can even stand in them,” Aubrey added.

“Oh, I'm very comfortable in heels,” I said, as much for him as in answering Aubrey’s comment. I peered down at him still over my tits, feeling so good like I was growing even as I stood here. “The higher the better,” I continued.

“High heels give girls power,” said Katie, petting the back of his neck, “They move differently, feel differently, even speak differently. Don’t you think, sweetie?” Yeah. When did my voice get so deep? I liked it.

“I think he’s afraid of high heels,” Randi offered, “But the styles keep getting taller and taller. Little men like this one here will just have to deal with it.”

I noticed he hadn’t answered my question, of course - I’ll have to work on that with him, soon. But now that Shanette was standing alongside me - no slouch in the height department, but in bare feet she seemed short to me too - I caught him looking up at her. She smiled, with those crazy cute dimples of hers, down at him. Josie and Lakshmi were closing in on him from behind to join Katie.

“Well, he looks tired, Missy,” Shanette said, reminding me without flat-out reminding me what my goal was here, “But there’s something he needs to do before he goes to bed.” I didn’t know exactly what she meant but everything became clearer as she tapped her cheek with her index finger and then bent closer to him. “Give Auntie Shanette a kiss goodnight,” she said, and waited for him.

He glanced up at me, and I nodded. Immediately he got up on his tiptoes and planted a quick kiss - <<smack!>> - right on Shanette’s right cheek. Omigod he wanted my approval. Good.

“Auntie Josie wants one too!” Josie sang, suddenly spinning him by the shoulders and leaning in, too, to offer him her cheek.

<<smack!>> He kissed her too.

“And Auntie Lakshmi!!” Kiki laughed, crouching down.

“And me!” called Katie, white smile beaming. Soon the whole room was descending on him, lining up and surrounding him, awaiting their goodnight kiss as if from a treasured little prince. Some girls were still in their bikinis, and boobs were everywhere! He was in little man heaven, for sure.

But, coming in for her turn, Randi’s brows knotted a bit and she paused. She saw how confused and nervous he looked as he was giving out his kisses. “What’s the problem, shorty? Why so shy?” she asked him, “Don’t you remember making out with all of us, just an hour ago before your little nap?”

Oooo the poor thing. I saw the confusion just double all over his face, and weirdly I could read him like I was reading a book. He thought it had all been a dream haha. His mind was clearer, I could tell, than earlier this evening, probably because the girls were being good about keeping themselves and their perfumes in check. I needed to make sure I did the same! We needed to have a talk, I needed him listening to me, and I needed him able to remember. But being good was hard! I just had such a strong urge to overwhelm him, right as we stood here. Breathe, Missy, breathe!! I reminded myself, trying to, uh…focus.

Anyway, his confusion passed after a little bit, and he doled out all his required goodnight kisses. Aside from Emily and Bianca still standing on the balcony above, watching in the funny way that they do (Sammi, now with pink hair and freckled nose, had joined the crowd, gotten her kiss) the whole crowd of my bunnies was around us, giggling. He looked up at me, expectantly. Oooooo god! I looked calm, but my heart was pounding and my head was racing. I needed to breathe, focus…but being near him made it so hard!

“We’ve had such a good time together,” someone said.

“Yeah we’re going to miss you,” said another.

I smiled, feeling the affection they had for him redouble my excitement. “Ready for bed, mister?” I finally asked, and the sea of girls began to part, opening up a path out, in the direction of the stairs. He looked that way, and then back up at me. He could have stepped, himself, towards the upstairs, but he didn’t move. He just looked at me cute and helpless.

You want me to pick you up, don’t you?

“C’mere, honey,” I said, crouching down so I could scootch one hand to his side, the other behind his little butt, “I’ve got you.”

And then I stood, easily picking him up and holding him against my left shoulder. His head rose above the crowd, and though they all cooed and clucked and buzzed his name he looked only at me. He was focused only on me. Good boy, don’t look away.

“Goodnight, ladies,” I said, now taking my first step towards the stairs with my little lover boy in my arms…

==============================================

thanks again to my editor-in-residence ResistanceIsFutile for elevating this one to a higher level on lots of fronts.

Check out my Patreon

#growing into the job

53 notes · View notes

wolfnesta · 11 months

Note

Hello! Can I pick your brain for a moment? I’ve finished all of ACOTAR, and I really do enjoy nesta. She’s real and raw. But I guess where I’m kind of stuck is why she was always spending feyres coppers that she worked for, was it retaliation? Or was it because she was angry at their dad? I hope it’s okay to ask, maybe I just need to reread ACOSF?

I’m honored anon! Since you mentioned acosf I’m thinking you mean when Nesta is drinking and getting rent money for free right? If you mean at the beginning of acotar I believe SJM didn’t have anything in mind for Elain and Nesta other than to make the reader pity Feyre and then later SJM tried to give that behavior meaning by saying Nesta did it out of hatred to make her father get up and do something 🤷🏻‍♀️ I’m kind of meh about that whole thing.

If you mean in acosf, Nesta’s depression seems to make her feel outcasted ‘…had only been able to stand and watch them all, their joy and closeness, as if she were looking in through a window’ and also resentful— with Elain ‘Elain could make her own choices. And had chosen to thoroughly shut the door on Nesta. Even as she fully embraced Feyre and her world.’ and Feyre ‘How could she explain the tangle between her and her sister? The self-loathing that threatened to consume her every time she looked at her sister’s face?’ and also suffers from what seems like ptsd ‘Some days, the sheer dread and panic locked Nesta's body up so thoroughly that nothing could get her to breathe. Nothing could stop the awful power from beginning to rise, rise, rise in her. Nothing beyond the music at those taverns, the card games with strangers, the endless bottles of wine, and the sex that made her feel nothing but offered a moment of release amid the roaring inside her.’ All of which leads to alot of self hatred ‘every damning thing Rhysand thought of her was true— and she’d known it long before he had shadowed her doorstep. … Better to spend her time the way she wished’ (also the many times Nesta insists she ‘failed’). Plus the whole idea that Nesta has never had a choice in her life even pre poverty years ‘So your mother took Nesta creative joys and twisted them into a social climbing arsenal?’ I want to say those are the over all reasons Nesta turns to this harmful behavior. It interesting to me that SJM made sure to include that last part of Nesta’s life in her story because, though I feel like all the unresolved hate for her father is important, I would’ve thought we would also see Nesta heal from her mother and grandmothers mistreatment. But alas.

I want to add a personal note that it was heavily disappointing for me how SJM definitely knew how to portray these difficult aspects of mental illness but then she did what she did to Nesta and I’m like, okay wait no this is awful. This can’t be the same author that is able to show Nesta pushing family members away, not coping well, turning to alcohol and still make it seem that the very people that are supposedly ‘helping’ her can forcibly isolate her, slut shame her, physically threaten her, take her on a suicidal hike, show little to no care for her well being, take all of that and make it seem justifiable. Just. How do two wrongs make it right? Like it can’t be the one and the same author taking this good thing and then adding that to it .Nesta’s self loathing, anger, and her lashing out is an honest nod to how mental illness can manifest itself and I’d give SJM kudos for that except I realize this part of the story that you’re asking about anon was added purely to degrade Nesta instead of for realistic reasons and it’s visible in the way she has her mains react to Nesta. SJM was able to bring all this rawness to the table then butchered it. I know this ask isn’t about the topic here but anon I think you would benefit alot from reading the post because my dear @ae-neon is so much better at articulating a lot of the issues going on in those initial moments of acosf.

Anyhow, I hope that helps ❤️

#anti sjm #anti acosf #pro nesta archeron #nesta deserves better

35 notes · View notes

fitz-avery-vacker · 1 year

Text

Waiting Fountain

heyyyy keepblr, i've given into impulsive thoughts and am posting a fic on here! read it if you want to i guess. If you'd rather read it on AO3, here's the link

Waiting Fountain That one day Keefe was left in Atlantis.

Mom looked down at me, gesturing to the fountain while giving me a gentle nudge in the back as she corralled me towards it. “Come on sweetie,” she said. “We’ll only be gone for a little bit.” I nodded, knowing better than to argue as I walked towards the fountain of my own accord. “Okay.” I mumbled, feeling unsure about being left alone by the fountain in a busy city like Atlantis.

But I wouldn’t argue. I would listen, because Mom was being nice about it. She didn’t scream or yell like Dad did. Most of the time. I liked that the most about her. She gave me a small, reassuring smile, as though she was an Empath like Dad was and could tell I was nervous. But she wasn’t, I knew that. But she could still tell I was nervous. I returned the smile, wanting to believe I was brave as she turned her back and walked away, her tall heels clicking against the ground as she rushed to catch up with Dad. Rush isn’t the best term. She looked too elegant to be rushing. But Dad definitely wasn’t waiting for her.

I sat down on the edge of the fountain, watching as they both walked away and faded into the blended crowd. I couldn’t help the frown that formed on my face, though I quickly thought of a joke to cheer myself up and snickered slightly. I felt better as the lump in my chest left me alone.

I was an energetic child, but I wasn’t without my self restraint. Mom and Dad hated it when I tapped my feet against the ground when I was bored, wondering why I wasn’t better controlled. So I’d learned to fidget in other ways. But I liked tapping the most. Mom and Dad weren’t here right now…. So I decided to start tapping my feet. The bundles of crowds didn’t seem to notice the small noise of my feet against the pavement among their own problems.

I waited like I was told, sitting on the edge of the fountain while I waited… and waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

The crowds started dwindling little by little, hour by hour.

I started getting worried. Just a little. I wasn’t scared of much. But I can assure you I didn’t necessarily enjoy being left by myself in Atlantis without my home crystal. I thought silently to myself. ‘Mom had only said it was going to be a little while.’ ‘They wouldn’t leave me, right?’

‘They would.’ whispered a tiny voice in the back of my mind. I chose to ignore it, shutting my eyes and forcing the treasonous thoughts of my parents out of my mind.

Seconds melted into minutes that slowly rolled into hours. Endless hours that made my brain scratchy, searching for things to do that wouldn’t draw any attention to my spot. I chose to scratch at the small pale part of skin on my finger. I don’t remember where I got it, but I think it hurt if it left a mark. I asked Mom a little while ago and she said, ‘Why should I remember? If you were being a fool, then you should remember what happened to your finger. Toughen up, sweetie, it’s not that bad.’ I didn’t ask again. She said, ‘It’ll go away soon, just ignore it.’ So I did. I still waited. I started getting tired, but I couldn’t really tell if it was getting dark since the lights in Atlantis are always on. But I wouldn’t sleep. I wouldn’t be able to anyways, not without being at home.

Finally, after a few more hours of waiting, Mom, Dad, and another guy came back. Dad looked annoyed, as if it were an inconvenience to have to come pick me up. But he kept talking with Mystery Dude, and I ignored it. Mom grabbed my hand and led me over to them, where we began going back to get to the surface.

Mom turned to me, her icy blue eyes shining brightly, but some form of… was that pity? I couldn’t tell, I hadn’t manifested yet. But I swear I could feel her remorse. Or pity. Or whatever that gut aching emotion was that made me believe her as she whispered in my ear. Actually, I couldn’t tell if she was whispering or if she was just mouthing the words. She was quiet.

"I’m sorry for forgetting you, Keefe.” she murmured, the wisps of her hair blowing around her face. She tucked a few strands behind her hair with her free hand, cupping my cheek with her other hand. Her hand was warm. It was nice. I leaned into her hand, but she pulled away her hand and I let her. She began walking away again, though grasped my hand and pulled me along with her.

At least she didn’t forget me this time.

#keefe sencen #sad keefe sencen #keefe sencen fanfic #kotlc fic #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities

8 notes · View notes

actualsunflower · 11 months

Note

3 6 9 and 30 of the Edge asks, bitte? Hier sind kekse.

3 What is your OC's fatal flaw? Are they aware of this flaw? Definitely blaming everything on himself. That mindset and the shame and guilt it brings makes him very reckless sometimes. It pairs horribly with the terror of losing people/things he loves all over again. Especially with things concerning Nick, or other innocent people/creatures. But mostly Nick lol. There's a number of times in his story where he does very reckless things. One is during Nick and Jay investigating kidnapped settlers at Quincy, Nick tries to keep Jay from going with him because he doesn't want Jay to get hurt as Quincy is still full of Gunners but Jay goes anyway of course, On the way there, they get attacked by that Behemoth that's in the swamp close to Quincy. It swings its club at Nick and Jay jumps in front of him and is able to take the hit instead (I know it sounds ridiculous but he has artifact powers very similar to Lorenzo so he is VERY strong and durable!!) It does completely cripple his left arm though. One of the many times Jay does something reallllll stupid to save Nick.

6 How easily could your OC be convinced to do something that goes against their moral compass? I guess that's kind of a tricky question. The answer could be easy and hard? It really depends on who it is, the situation, yknow? For example, Jay has a very strict no killing view, but there are a few times where he does kill people like 3 of my other bad guy ocs (one is a courser, the other is my ex-brotherhood raider overboss power obsessed freak, and a going feral ghoul vault-tec scientist!) He did have to be convinced to kill 2 of them. And then the 3rd (the scientist) was out of desperation and needing to help Nick. Could a faction convince Jay to do things out of his moral compass? Also kinda. He works with the Railroad and the Minutemen. Preston and Ronnie Shaw aren't able to convince him to do any killing, however things go very very sour with the Railroad in the Institute and with the Brotherhood. Jay tries to speak to Maxson (on behalf of a faction though it took a whole lot of arguing to let him do that) and get him to willingly leave the Commonwealth stating, but Maxson refuses, and so they have no choice to blow up the Prydwen. They were very very fairly warned and he chose to stay, so no one can really blame them at that point. Still, despite how hard Jay tried he did still join the assault on the Prydwen, which of course ended in many casualties... (They DID save the kids and the cat, though. And a few BoS ppl agreed to join other factions or go free). The Institute was also raided by the Railroad (not blown up though), which he had no choice but to join because it happened suddenly without warning while he was still there undercover. 9 Do you have a specific lyric or quote which you associate with your OC?

ooooooooohhhhhhh yes I do have many songs, very many in fact and it makes it very hard to pick just one. Some would be The Kids Aren't Alright by Fall Out Boy, How Did You Love by Shinedown, Ditchdigger by Tyler Lyle, Shake it Out, Free, No Light No Light, and King all by Florence and the Machine (but there's a lot of others too. Idk they just share alotta vibes), Sunlight, Wasteland, Baby!, and Would That I and No Plan by Hozier, and a bunch of other songs and artists... But there's a ridiculous amount of music I listen to that always makes me want to draw Jay, or Jay and Nick. But it's funny if you listened to all these songs you probably wouldn't get a very clear picture of Jay and his entire character, just because I tend to focus on very specific traits/times/experiences separately instead of him as a whole when I listen to music. You'd have to pick through my entire brain's library of Jay to find the specifics of each one. Idk how to explain what I'm trying to say here honestly. I'm just rambling at this point XD

20 Does your OC have a tendency to get jealous? If so, how does this manifest?

I'm going with 20 here since I wasn't sure if maybe the 30 was from a different ask list I rbed or not, sorry if I got confused with this one! He doesn't get jealous very often, honestly. Sometimes when it comes to Nick he does, a lot of people like Nick and he can get a little bit possessive, rather than jealous. Not to an unhealthy level, just enough to earn scowls and extra affection.

In life he also doesn't get very jealous of others often. Occasionally it may be jealously of other people's emotional stability lol. But he accomplished quite a lot in his life prewar and was pretty comfortable with himself and what he had. And in terms of bad character flaws he would be too caught up blaming himself for short comings rather than feeling jealous of others.

Sorry this is so long!!!!!! Thank you so much for asking though I loved answering these!!!!!!! Please ignore any typos XD

#thank you!!!!!!!#it feels really nice to talk about them again!#sunflower asks #ask game

1 note · View note

rufusx2 · 1 month

Text

dear anon (though i do know who you are, so i'm writing this with you in mind):

this is true, nothing you have said is something i would necessarily disagree with. the post is satirical and the longer work is about my own flawed thinking (though i will likely not post it in it's entirety until it is done, all of my meowing is just for snippets, though i understand that it can come across as strange or concerning if you are unaware of this as i have not posted my blog organization anywhere. in fact, the on;y posts of mine UNRELATED to my main bodies of work, my songwriting, are the photo posts organized under "#blinks").

this is the purpose of using language like "flawed in the right way"- i know my own lines of thinking are most definitely caused by societal problems, and they are not productive nor based in logic. even my blog header ("you delicate, precious, dying thing!") is supposed to bring to mind the "ideal" female body as being delicate and starved (which is a bad thing for people with a brain... but not for the narrator!). being born "right" (or "rightwrong" as i tend to refer to it, which is just a heavyhanded way of pointing out that calling yourself "born right" is flawed thinking) is not an actual thing, though i cannot help but loop back into this logic of "if only i had been born as somebody else" forgetting, of course, that i will only ever be myself. i focus on my own female form (and wishing to have been born differently) as a manifestation of poor body image (weight related) and self hatred (in terms of personality). if i had the power to be born differently, a "better" person, my brain (or i guess *I* would, i use "my brain" as a way of distancing myself from my own bad thoughts which is probably not helping the problem) would make this person male- the point is that not only is the premise impossible, but being a "better" person is impossible if you completely change yourself, and using this line of logic we can see that the CONCLUSIONS myself, or rather, the narrator of the piece of writing, (if i'm to be neutral and detached and pretend that it's NOT me saying all this), are also incorrect, and impossible regardless which makes dwelling upon them pointless in the first place. it's a futile line of thinking, and every word is clouded through a thick layer of rosy haze. i would even be inclined to at some points call it christocentric... this is why i used "wwjd" in a sarcastic way in some of my posts (that may or may not be publicly visible yet due to my queue system). take that how you will.

calling the female form flawed was not a way of thinking that the reader/listener is supposed to agree with (though again, it is a disembodied snippet, so of course you wouldn't know this upon reading so i don't blame you for not picking up on it. i am fine! i know there is nothing wrong with my body. and yet... i feel my own mind needling at me). i wouldn't exactly say that my writings are explicitly feminist, because that implies a conscious agenda and explicit political messaging when really it's all just personal anecdotes, but since i would describe myself as being a feminist i think the undertones bleed through. or at least, i hope they will when i do eventually release more.

i know i can never have what i want, and i know that what i want is NOT rational, or good, and is entirely based in heteropatriarchal ideas, but i can't help myself and i need to confront that desire frankly in order to identify it. you can't exactly get a good look at yourself if you close your eyes when you approach the mirror, and this is how i feel about ignoring these thoughts. i cannot pretend that i do not feel this way, and i dont really think it services anyone to pretend i always feel positively about my body. wallowing in them isn't always helpful for the wallow-er, but it perhaps CAN be for a witness who doesn't realize that they are not alone in their way of existing. there are many ways to be, in this body, and others like it, and while negativity is a symptom of a larger problem i have to be honest about it.

#i wont respond to the ask directly because of the wording (not your fault) and because its mainly my fault for not being clear enough #i dont really expect anybody to see these. its mainly an archive blog for my own writing process. usually im copy-pasting from a google doc #i write music to go along with it. but the music isnt good enough yet so you cannot have the full context of the work just yet...#eventually though. i have to share it before i die because it will not exist otherwse. and that is sad to me!#so sit tight or dont. not sure if you will ever see this since im not actually responding directly #meowing back #i think thats a cute ask tag. im keeping it #a rare cutting open of my own chest for the internet. but only because you were being earnest about it #im kind of lying about the purpose of the larger work though it is about gender transition in some parts but it would take #WAY longer for me to properly explain that and i fear it would be misunderstood by anybody who ISNT you (anon) or me #you know where im coming from and i can see you too. so i hope you can understand what i mean when i bring that up #i cannot be angry at the dysphoric person... i am not her. but i am her. we are the same and different.#this will make more sense once i expand upon it but again its not done cooking yet so youll have to trust me #think of my blog as a highlight reel.

0 notes

luicifellt · 9 months

Text

So I got some issues..

Emotional issues. This complicates communication greatly..

To try and explain my thoughts, and thought process to my new partner I decided to write some of it down. To help get him an idea.

Because I'm inept at explaining my feelings and emotions.

Beneath the read more will be a lot ... but I need to have it out somewhere. Maybe someone will read it.

I dont know what I hope to get out of this. But its fairly dramatic so ... someone might like to read it.

These are snippets of thought.

Sadness

Anxiety

Stress

Loneliness?

Self hatred

Self disgust

Can't do anything right

Won't finish what's started.

Anything created will be hated, and NOT good enough. At all times.

Am I toxic?

Do you love me? Yes?

I believe you..

But Why?

Not pretty, not talented, not smart.

Kinda phat.

Emotional but can't express it.

Depressive episodes and mood swings...

Females am I rite?

Why bother ?

Why would you pick this? There's better options.. hopefully.

Seems like a mistake to invest in me. Though I'm so happy you did pick me. Never thought I'd have a relationship.

So good to me... can't give anything back though. Its not enough.

Can't handle myself well. Will lash out..

Seems like a animal adoption form. Don't adopt me. I look soft, looks are deceiving.

No motivation hates Self for that

No inspiration hates Self for that

No dreams or aspirations hates Self for that

No hobbies doesn't do much hates Self for that

Probably the worst conversationalist. Only has about 5 witty bright and fun days where true humor truly shows (a year) hates Self for that.

Selfish! can't stand myself, but still want the nice things.

Egotistical hates Self 90% of the time the other 10% is spend on Self complimenting ???

Hates Self for that. Thanks brain.

Horrible body image. Hasn't realy looked at self more that absolutely necessary in 15 years. When mirror is used: -10 don't recommend.

Uses self deprecating humor to feel better. Bad trait.

Can't control bad thoughts, let's it spiral like a junji ito story.

See! can be funny..is not enough though, is it.

Friend(s) will tire of this.

Got nothing to add to the group.

Can't (but should) find the energie and motivation to change that short term.

Long term probably not worth it. Tho Time will move anyway.. why have people waste it.

Fear of abandonment, fear of being left alone. Also weirdly craving it, to get it over with.

Convinced feelings can be turned off and broken. Maybe it should.

Who's kidding, sobbing mess in private! But can barely cry in company. Why. Nobody knows. *ugly cryier

Should honestly, cry more... should cry more honestly. Shouldn't let it vester for months. But I will.

No fysical energy. No creative energy. Stuck In the limbo of adult life.

Gets envious of people that know how to express themselves and have dreams and can make art and spend their time productive. Hates Self for that.

Self hate trumps envy. Keeps me grounded.

Don't know where the balls to hold out like this come from.. weird episodes of righteous ideas on improvement and finding motivation to improve. Can and will not last longer than 5 to 7 business days.

Tried psychologic help. Makes head messier and can't express any thought or feeling without feeling like crying.. main reason to keep it in.

Why does it bother me? Will cry literally everytime, feelings need to be discussed. No one wants that... yes. I decided that, because I don't want that.

Convinced that whatever power the universe holds in its dark matter, it manifests as bad luck.. consistently.. Time and experience have proven this to me.

Maybe just pessimistic.

Definitely just pessimistic.

Good taste in music tho. Bit static perhaps.

Has grand ideas. Doesn't know how to express them. Dissapointing.

Will overthink most things. Takes pride in well thought out plans... overthinking still more a problem, than a benefit.

Loves deeply for a lot of things but can't invest in one thing. Took a long time to convince myself I could love. Inexperienced.

Wish I could do better for you. Wish I could like me more.

Has hope to get better with help. But the spirals... Make me tired.

Has thought about dying. Knows this is a no no. Been through this before at years 12 through to 18. Never again. Not like that.

Weight loss helped.... people around me, to behave normally.

With the exception of a few, people would be degrading, look down on me, find me disgusting.

What I later learned however is that its usually not okay to express these thing out loud, to the persons face... especially when underage.

except when you're fat apparently because people would... constantly, daily, even if they didn't know me. They'd still tell me in passing.. as if hearing it would change anything in that moment.

I have had people do double takes and track back so they could tell me I'm offensive to the eyes.

I wish i made that up to be dramatic.

I feel like I have lived 2 lives.

But the first one seems so far away. It's not just the "getting old" part, nor the nostalgia factor. I suspect I simply blocked out a lot of it. Memories have more gaps than I care to admit.

I grief over this often. Sounds dramatic, again... but its the truth. I feel like a big part of Self got lost in those years and I'll never find it again.

Regrets and heartbreak over small things seem, so big when you have a lot of them.

It hurts.

It hurts to look at all the stuff I possess and gathered over the years.

All the art supplies all the expensive materials. The tools, the airbrush, the paints and canvases. The clay, the silicone, the make up...

They mock me everytime I catch them gathering dust in the closet, or drawer. They take up endless amounts of space... but I can't get rid of it.. because, what if.. as if.

Not having these things hurts more...

I can write pretty decently. To bad everything written feels like a edgy YA novel. Dropped.

Reading used ro be a comfort.. now a pressure at the back of my head reminding me of how it USED to be. Reading now no longer an adventure, or practical pass time.

Feels like wasting time. ( and money)

Sometimes it feels like one more dissapointment away from running on empty.

No thoughts, head empty.

Sounds appealing. Where do you sign up.

Imagine being simultaneously most loved and taken care off by a partner, for the first time in your life... but also the most lost.

Feels like a disappointment.. one of many. How much more do I have, before it's to much for me, or the people around me.

Maybe i SHOULD write angsty YA novels.

Maybe not.

Wonder where the irrational thoughts and fits come from. Could it be trauma? Could it be drama? Maybe in another life I was a theatre kid after all.

Goals: be part of it, stop being a spectator.

Pick a personality that you like and stick with it. Be useful.

#emotions #feelings #train of thought #sad #quite sad #tw #trigger warning #depressing #depressing thoughts #mention of unaliving #nothing rly that dramatic tbh but i know how tumblr is #thought dump #honesty #lots of text

0 notes

phoenixyfriend · 3 years

Text

Commander Buir

Follow-up to this post. Not in any particular order, just spitballing ideas, with contributions from several friends on discord.

Like presumably it takes long enough for them all to meet up again that Anakin and Cody do, in fact, end up treating each other like family, just so I can have that good good "well, guess I'm Dad now" energy. Shmi isn't entirely sure what's going on but she's not a slave anymore and her kid seems to like this rando mando, so.

Anakin gets to have a mom and two dads, though one of the dads is arguably younger than him.

Also when they all meet up again and Cody explains the "General Skywalker got shrunk" thing, there are three reactions: (General) Obi-Wan: Oh, Anakin. Obi-Wan: [gestures to take him, ends up with an armful of clingy padatoddler] Anakin: You can't blame this on me, Obi. Obi-Wan, a little teary, because babies cause emotions: Of course I can, you absurd human being. ------ Rex: That's... my general. Anakin: I am, Captain. Rex: Cool cool cool I'm gonna go stand where I can't, uh, break you. Anakin: I'm not THAT fragile! ------ Ahsoka: [gasp] Skyguy is SKYKID! Anakin: Padawan, this is-- Ahsoka, grabbing him and cuddling: Oh my goodness you're adorable this is the best day ever. Anakin: This is humiliating, Snips, put me down. Ahsoka: Never.

Anakin hates being a toddler because of the lack of independence but Cody keeps picking him up when he's cranky and just holding him until he falls asleep and that's... nice.......

- The brain limitations aren't quite as bad as the situation with Sokanth and Ylliben in the other AU, but - Even if his brain is mostly adjusted he’s still got a tiny body with different needs that he’s not used to. Like, he needs to sleep more but he’s got more energy than usual when he’s awake and it’s all weird.

Cody carrying around toddler Anakin like "God you give me ulcers but you're adorable, you little shit."

Inconveniently tiny body aside, Anakin has a pretty great time in this au. His family are all together and safe and within reach. His wife isn't around, but toddler brain means he doesn't have the Romance Drive, so that's not as bad as it could be It could be significantly worse.

@atagotiak asked: Does Anakin get annoyed about being called cute? - To which I say, He bites the first few times but Shmi tells him that's Naughty so he stops. - Babies are cute so you packbond with them before they’re annoying, Anakin is cute as a self defense mechanism - He’s extra annoying so he needs to be extra cute

You know how you need to keep an eye on toddlers so they don't, like, fall down the stairs or put something toxic in their mouth? - They need to keep an eye on Anakin specifically so he doesn't rewire the ship they're in while they're in hyperspace. - He has less self control on account of being smol. He still has all the mechanical knowledge! Just less comprehension of y’know, consequences.

Anakin, with a sippy cup: This is demeaning. Ahsoka: Your hands don't work great enough to avoid accidents yet. Anakin: It's still embarrassing.

General Kenobi can't just kill Maul, not when Maul is baby right now (sixteen, which is baby enough) so he just. Kinda. Kidnaps a baby Sith. (It's fine. He's fine.)

General Kenobi (not to be confused with Padawan Kenobi) decides to declare Maul his new padawan because someone has to deal with this teenager, and Plo already claimed the rest of Ahsoka's training. And Anakin's three, so.

"What do we do with Maul?" "Eh, I can handle him. I dealt with teenage Anakin getting arrested for illegal pod-racing twice a month, I can work with this."

Maul bites, but only slightly more often than Anakin, it's fine

Ahsoka definitely bullies Maul whenever possible

Consider: Rex holding very still because Anakin wanted to be tall, so he climbed Rex. Being unexpectedly climbed is better than being unexpectedly yeeted. It's still extremely nerve-wracking. - Cody is perfectly capable of running around with a backpacking toddler General, but Rex freezes like a statue. - Ahsoka finds this hilarious

You know how little kids like to be thrown around and swung in circles and stuff like that? This must get even more ridiculous with force users. Can throw a child real high and catch them safely. - Rex panics whenever Ahsoka throws her chibified Master

Literally everyone except Rex loves being yeeted. Even Maul can appreciate a good tactical yeet no shut up he's not having fun this is TRAINING - Rex is Suffering - Cody, a very Tired Dad, deserves to mock his vod'ika a little, as stress relief - Rex, a certified Little Brother, shoves Cody off something tall. Jokes on him, Cody thinks freefall is fun too.

Tia asked: So the people who didn’t exist yet got flung bodily back in time and Anakin did the mental time travel. Why did Obi-Wan not become Padawan Kenobi? (I mean “because I want it that way” is def a good enough answer I’m just wondering if there’s any reason.) - Which, well, it really was mostly "I want to" but here's two options, both of which come down to Blame Daughter and Father. 1. They figured a responsible adult Jedi Master was needed to convince people. 2. Nobody was supposed to get de-aged but Daughter figured they needed to make Anakin less liable to kill things for a few years. - Also IDK the Force God-Manifestations also took away any risk of rapid aging and early death from the clones because uhhhhhhhhhhh I said so

Rex and Ahsoka are fumbling their way through a relationship where ages are just really confusing and awkward, so they're keeping it to just kisses and cuddles for a bit.

Cody is so tired he doesn't even realize anyone's hitting on him until it's been three years of co-parenting with Shmi and his General. - Somehow Anakin knows Cody is in a relationship before Cody does. Cody has never been so embarrassed. - How did he manage to be less observant than Skywalker? -- it was sabotage; all his brain cells were taken up in managing said Skywalker -- Because Skywalker was up at three in the morning whacking a training droid with a stick so he didn't have the energy for Relationships

Also Shmi's come-ons are super subtle, while the General's are... well, Cody's gotten very used to ignoring anything ambiguous on that end because fraternization rules, and also because Obi-Wan flirts a lot with everyone. So.

Please imagine Cody and General Kenobi walking around with Anakin tucked into a toddler sling while they do whatever work they've ended up with at the Temple. - Yes, Cody is helping the Jedi figure out the best plan of attack to take down this slave ring because his grasp on tactics is phenomenal and he knows how to deploy people at greatest efficiency, but also he's got a nosy toddler on his hip who keeps offering his own insane-but-competent ideas. - General Kenobi ends up with a Council Seat just on account of, like, being the kind of person he is. As often as not, he's got Anakin tucked into his robes, chewing on the ear of a stuffed tooka or something.

IDK what Shmi's doing but apparently Legends had it that some of the administrative and support positions in the Temple were held by non-Jedi civilians? So probably something like that.

GENERAL KENOBI LECTURING PADAWAN MAUL WHILE ANAKIN'S BALANCED ON HIS HIP AND GLARING AT MAUL FOR STEALING HIS DAD

General Kenobi: Ahsoka's babysitting. Anakin: I'm her master, I don't need babysitting, this is-- General Kenobi: Fine, then you need supervision, so that you don't blow up a training salle again. Anakin: And you think Ahsoka would stop me? General Kenobi, eye twitching: Fine, I'm leaving you with Plo.

Even if he’s mentally an adult Anakin always needs supervision Look at canon! Anakin was left without supervision for like two days and he became a Sith

Quinlan gets distracted by how attractive General Kenobi is and tells Obi-Wan "dude, you're gonna be so hot once you can get rid of the stupid haircut" and Obi-Wan pushes him into the nearest pond.

They end up with this weird "Uncle Jango" situation (uncle to Anakin, via weird brotherhood-ish to Cody) because Rex and Cody are just like "Uhhhhhhhhh yeah okay" about him eventually, and Jango just like. Drops by. Trying to Earn Affection Of Blood Kin by bringing weird gifts for them and their (ugh) Jedi.

"Okay, Rex'ika, I stopped by Shili--" "What?" "--and apparently this is a delicacy there, so just... your girlfriend will like it." "She's not my girlfriend." "..." "Okay, I can't call her my girlfriend. Jedi have rules about that sort of thing, and--" "This will make your Jedi happy, probably. Just take it, kid."

Baby Anakin got his arm back but for some inexplicable reason still has The Eye Scar. He matches Buir.

#disaster lineage #Anakin Skywalker #CodyWan #Commander Cody #Obi Wan Kenobi #Ahsoka Tano #Captain Rex #Shmi Skywalker #Maul #Darth Maul #Rexsoka #time travel #de aging #baby characters #Quinlan Vos #Phoenix Posts #Commander Buir

1K notes · View notes

natewriteslol · 3 years

Text

The Wonders of Magic Pt. 1

Non magical!Twisted Boys x Witch!Reader

A/N: This has been sitting in my brain for a while since I have Little Witch Academia brainrot and I love snooty rich boys asdfljsfaj

Characters: Keep reading to find out!!

Warnings: Language and Y/N goes by she/her pronouns

Summary: Dealing with magical adventures and society deeming magic as “flashy but worthless” doesn’t deter Y/N L/N from reaching her goal of becoming a powerful witch. However, what will she do when she has to find a way to stop the selling Calypso Academy?

~~~

All your life you had dreamed of being a witch, however there was a slight problem. You weren't a magic user.

And as magic use had started to become more oppressed and scarce, magic schools were starting to open their doors to all walks of life. Making the most elite schools fall to their knees.

Either you lose your elite status or fall into debt.

So this was good opportunity for you, you managed to make it into one of the most renowned magic schools in the country, Calypso Academy. But it wasn't all peaches and cream, you weren't exactly accepted among your peers. Your family weren't magic users, nor were they wealthy. Yet you still pursued magic, there was a fire burning in your heart that just drew you in all your life. And you couldn't let your dream go just because of some mean girls. But this is the story of how you met some of your greatest obstacles.

~~~

It was the night of the great Ball, Calypso academy was having it's 350th anniversary. And you unlucky for you, you still didn’t know how to ride a broom since you were learning from the ground up.

So there you were, by yourself, in one of the open fields of your campus. Trying to make this broom fly.

And in your flight teacher Ms. Flint’s words, “If the broom doesn’t leave the ground, you can’t step a foot in the ball.” And so far, your feet have been stuck on the ground.

You felt horrible. I mean, what witch doesn’t know how to fly a broom? And while you were incredibly dejected

from your failures, you knew you couldn’t just let it go.

‘The trick it to be determined, yet feel as light as a feather. Be one with the broom’ your manifestation teacher, Mrs. Fairi had softly advised. You had to do this for for her, she already put so much faith in you, she would be so disappointed if she didn’t see you at the ball.

“Nubes Volant ro!” You casted, pushing your leg to lift. Expecting your legs to come back down and for your shoes to hit the softness of the grass... but it never came.

You opened your eyes and there you were, suspended in air.

Your excitement was indescribable, but you needed to be skilled enough to meet the requirements for Ms. Flint. So you tried and tried again, and while a little shaky you still managed to fly and do a stable landing!

“I did it! Screw everyone in this academy who doubted me!” You squealed a little loud, doing a little dance. You heard footsteps and chuckling, but you brushed it off as some of your classmates. Too excited to care, you grabbed your things and ran off to show Ms. Flint. But there was one problem, the entire point of this celebration was to both celebrate the anniversary but... it was begging as well. It was no secret that Calypso was losing money to pay taxes, but they were being pressured to give it all up. So to persuade the buyers, they had invited their son's to be enriched in witch culture and tradition. To prove them wrong and show that magic has value. However the students of the academy weren't aware of the true intentions behind the invites of the son's of these rich men. Many whispered in the halls about the upcoming ceremony. Talking about how handsome the young men attending were. But the day of the party was finally here! The banquet was absolutely incredible with 25 foot tables of food on both sides of the ballroom. Crystal chandeliers with floating candles illuminating and creating a heavenly golden light. And the great ancient tapestries that surrounded the room. There was no way that anything could mess up your night.

But then, you heard a shout from a classmate in the crowd. "The nobles sons! They're here!" You stopped stuffing your face for a moment. Everyone cleared the way for the grand wooden doors as they opened, a red carpet elegantly draping the piece of floor it laid on. Designer shoes clicked as they touched the ground. Every girl eyes followed as they walked, you snuck past some trying to get a glimpse of their features. They were five of them being escorted by one older gentleman, all incredibly handsome young men. One had a bright smile that was genuine and waving at some of the girls in the crowd. While the other had a smirk not paying anyone any mind, as if he was calculating something. One held a solemn expression, yet was incredibly poised and graceful. The last two however wore scowls, one that showed he most definitely didn’t want to be here while the other just looked strict.

They sat down in their seats in the front table that awaited them. Each seat was just as fancy as a king’s throne, with gold embellishments and velvet seats.

It was a cookie cut scene, they were made for this life of luxury.

~~~

It was an hour into the ceremony, showcasing tricks and theatrical dances from every witch culture from around the globe. But it was almost as though nothing was satisfying them, besides the one with white hair. While he adorned a smile, there was something behind his eyes, as though he was doing some critical thinking.

Nothing was enough for them.

But it was toward the end and the noble’s sons were promised a tour. Every witch in the school was made to study up on knowledge of the campus. So that if you were the “lucky winner” you wouldn’t look like a complete fool.

As you snacked on your chocolate filled croissant, Ms. Flint with her booming voice had called everyone’s attention to the center of the stage. Raising her wand, a split of golden light had displayed random names.

Knowing your luck, you knew you wouldn’t be picked. I mean this was probably a tactic to get people to study the school’s magical history. It did work, as if there was a slight chance you were chosen you wouldn’t want to make a fool out of yourself in front of people like you usually did. But, Principal Hendrix wouldn’t be so irresponsible as to let a random student represent the school, right?

Exactly. But even then, you sure did feel sorry for whoever was to give the tour-

“Y/N L/N!”

...

Remember what you said about shitty luck?

Shocked was an understatement. Even though you had your two best and only friends Silva and Miete patting you on the back telling you congrats and to do your best, the hammering of your heart was too heavy for you to handle.

Whispers broke out for a moment, a lot of girls were incredibly disappointed but cleared the way for you to go up the stairs and talk to Ms. Flint and Principal Hendrix.

“Good job, Y/N. Now if you wouldn’t mind, please give these young men a tour of Calypso, would you?” Principle Hendrix said gently with a smile.

“Ha, ha, of course! But surely there’s been a mistake, I mean Lydia could probably recite the information without having to read a single book-”

“No way, L/N. You were chosen, now do the tour please, the latest you can be back is at 9pm,” Ms. Flint replied, cutting you off sharply.

“You’re an incredibly charismatic student, Y/N. Just keep them entertained,” Principle Hendrix whispered as you walked toward the table.

Be charismatic, not awkward! Got it!

“Alrighty then! Who’s ready for a tour?” you said, almost giving finger guns as a mechanism.

“Oh, I am!”

“Yes, I’ve been wanting to see the range of this property in person.”

“Yes, I would like to get this over with. I have an appointment tomorrow and I would not like to miss it.”

Other than that, all you received was a nod and an eye roll. But it’s better not to pry and ask for more from them.

Each getting out of their seats, you walked outside. Hearing cheers from the crowd and the occasional “Vil! I love you!” which made you a little embarrassed.

Feeling the night breeze and seeing the stars poke through calmed you down slightly, it was 7:45 and all you had to do was blabber at them about the school until 9.

Easy task, Y/N. Easy!

~~~

Once you got outside, the tour had been running smoothly for only a couple of minutes. But you couldn’t help but feel as though they started scanning you, as if they saw you from somewhere. Until unfortunately, the sunshine of the group’s lightbulb had went off.

“Oh! You’re the girl with the broomstick towards the front of the school! You looked so happy practicing.”

“There must be a mistake-”

“Are you sure? If so then I guess you have a doppelganger” the boy with glasses teased.

“Didn’t you say, ‘Screw everyone at this academy’?” the short, red head questioned, persecuting your behavior.

“Well some people here aren’t exactly the nicest. It was just an excitement of the moment thing, sorry,” You said, trying to get Mr. Non-Rule Breaker off your back.

~~~

So... you had accidently overshared about your adventures on campus.

It had all started when one of the boys looked shocked that the ancient Willow tree was thriving and looking beautiful as ever. When he looked at it from pictures given to him, it was completely lifeless and grey.

“This tree, it looks completely different? It’s been sickly for years! How is this possible?” He asked, as his main piece of evidence the white haired boy gave to his father to buy this property was foiled.

“Oh, that was me. They had willow worms in the roots that were ready to hatch and I accidently brought them out,” you said, a little prideful, yet it was quickly stomped out.

“That is highly irresponsible, you should’ve had a professional complete that task, not an inexperienced student,” the red haired boy scoffed, it seemed as though he didn’t respect this school at all. Yet the boy with grey hair and glasses paid him no mind, still incredibly astonished, but it was quickly wiped from his face and replaced with a somewhat of a sour look. As though you beat him at some game he was playing.

“...Interesting. I never knew magic could do something of that caliber,” he remarked, pushing up his glasses.

“Magic is incredibly useful, Mr...”

Shit. You didn’t get their names...

“My apologies, I didn’t catch your guy’s names,” you said, placing a hand behind your head.

You had never in your life seen a group of people get so surprised, besides the other white haired boy, who was happy to tell you his name.

“I’m Kalim, Kalim-Al-Asim!” he said, shaking your hand with a vigor, “It’s a little funny that you don’t know who we are, but I like that about you!”

How was it funny? You’ve never seen these people in your entire life? The blonde man was especially offended as you glanced at him for his name.

“Vil Schoenheit. Actor, singer, dancer, beauty influenc-”

“Hmmm, Vil I can’t help but feel that you’re angry at Ms. L/N for not knowing who you are,” the boy with glasses remarked before taking your hand, “Azul Ashengrotto, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“I’m Riddle Rosehearts,” the short red-haired boy said.

“...Leona Kingscholar.”

“Alright, I’m glad I got your names! Let’s get a move on! I have got to show you some more stuff!” you said before moving along, gaining more confidence as you talked to them.

Maybe this tour wasn’t so bad after all!

~~~

Coming up:

“How did you not know who the noble’s sons are?!” Miette yelled, but her soft voice wasn’t exactly giving the shocking boom to emphasize her feelings.

“I’m sorry! Everything was completely fine after that, if this whole tour was such a big deal then I would’ve studied them more instead of the school,” you said, completely pooped out from last night.

So much pressure on you made you very tired out, and all of these new details coming out made you feel even more guilty for your half-assed tour.

150 notes · View notes

patchofsunlight · 3 years

Text

Hands | Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Bakugou learned from a young age to keep his hands to himself, even when his entire body longed for touch and his eyes filled with tears at the loss of a comforting habit.

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

WARNINGS: hurt/comfort, angst, touch starved bakugou!!, kind of a character study? i think about him a lot, one kiss, cursing, consensual hand holding (PFFFT), mitsuki fucking sucks but what’s new

I hope you like this!! please remember feedback is always appreciated and all that. thank you for reading!! sorry if it sucks LMAO I DID MY BEST AND I KINDA LIKE IT

When he was a child, before he even cared about quirks or rankings or strength, Bakugou Katsuki loved holding hands.

No one knew exactly why, but that was just something he liked. He would hold Izuku’s hand while they talked and ran around the neighborhood, he would take his teacher's hand in his ever so softly whenever he walked over to their desk to ask a question. Katsuki would latch onto his dad with the most loving, tiny grip he could muster, and he would even interlace pinkies with his mom when she was having a good day and didn’t deem his manners “too soft”, “too weak”, “too foolish”. Those were nice days in the Bakugou household.

Bakugou Katsuki was five years old when he had his heart broken for the first time. It was a few weeks after his quirk manifested and he was just so excited to play hero (with a quirk, this time!) alongside his friends after school that he didn’t even hesitate before grabbing Izuku’s hand exactly like he always did, jumping up and down with energy and happiness, rambling about how he was gonna be the number one hero one day — until Izuku screamed, pulling his hand away with a painful expression. Katsuki furrowed his eyebrows, confused at his best friend’s antics, and then he saw it: the raw, burned flesh of his palm.

Katsuki had hurt his best friend.

It’s very easy to fix objects, his dad used to tell him while stitching up one of his ripped shirts, you just get a bit of glue or yarn and you put it back together, a smile graced his lips at the feeling of his son taking his hand immediately after he let go of the sewing needle, but people are a lot harder to patch up, Katsu. People can’t be fixed, sometimes.

He wasn’t exactly sure of when he started shoving his hands inside his pockets, when he started opening doors with his feet and touching people with his shoulders to get their attention. It took him a while to understand that that first occasion wasn’t an accident, and that controlling his quirk when he got too excited or just overly happy was too hard and the security he got from all those tender touches he so eagerly searched from everyone in his life wasn’t worth the risk. The best thing Katsuki could do, for himself and for others, was to keep his hands to himself, even if they felt cold and empty and his big red eyes filled with tears at the loss of such a comforting habit.

He told himself it didn’t matter. You’d have to overgrow that over time, anyway, his mom reminded him at some point. Such childish, silly bullshit. Only softies hold hands, Katsuki, and we both know you’re not a softie.

It was easy to pretend he didn’t miss it. After a few years, the lack of touch was simply another part of his life he consciously chose to ignore, another longing he conditioned himself not to think about. It wasn’t like many people noted his abrupt change in behavior either — there were other things about him that were much more worthy of attention than that, like his killer quirk and quick brain, like his determination and ambition. Who cared about the fact that little Bakugou Katsuki didn’t want to hold hands anymore? Who cared about the fact that little touchy and clingy Bakugou Katsuki now barely touched others?

Such childish, silly bullshit. Only softies hold hands, Katsuki, and we both know you’re not a softie.

He met her during his second year at UA. Y/N was mostly quiet, but still friendly and hardworking, fighting hard for her place as the number one student in Class 2-B. A project involving the two classes put them as partners, and project meetings soon became sparring sessions that turned into study group that led to study dates and then real dates and, by the beginning of his senior year, Katsuki had gotten himself a girlfriend.

He wasn’t certain if she noticed the way he purposely kept his hands out of reach when they walked side by side, or if she ever saw how he always made sure his palms were pointing away from her skin whenever they hugged or cuddled. He didn’t think anyone would ever pay enough attention to him to the point of perceiving his hesitancy. It didn’t matter that Bakugou had gained complete control of his quirk, it didn’t matter that he still felt his skin and his hands tingling with the urge, the craving for touch — the satisfaction wasn’t worth the risk, not the stupid satisfaction he didn’t even need. Such childish, silly bullshit. Bakugou Katsuki was doing very well with letting go of old customs, no doubt.

But Y/N noticed. God, of course she did — she noticed all the longing gazes, all the small flinches. She noticed how he never let his hands touch hers and at first it made her worried. Didn’t he want to touch her? Had she done something wrong? Her boyfriend wasn’t the best at communicating his feelings, even though he had been putting in the effort to talk to her whenever he felt a bit under the weather or bothered.

However, this seemed like a bigger problem, like something he would never speak of unless she brought it up. It seemed deeper.

“Katsu?”

He lifted his scarlet eyes from the book in his hands and turned them to her sitting figure. They were both on his bed, despite curfew starting in less than an hour and the knowledge they shouldn’t be alone in his dorm. To be honest, Aizawa was quite used to watching the Class B girl sneak out of his student’s room every other night, wearing one of his many hoodies and those shorts that she always left in his closet. As long as they weren’t causing him any trouble, Eraserhead didn’t cause them any trouble, either.

“Yeah?” his voice was clearly tired after a day full of training and studying, a hint of sleepiness dripping from his tone.

“How come you never let me hold your hand?”

Katsuki froze on the spot, feeling his heart pick up its pace until it was beating so loud he could hear it by his ear, throbbing. He gulped harshly, sweat immediately gathering up on his hands from his own anxiety. She had noticed?

“What do you mean?” he tried to laugh calmly, but his chuckle sounded forced and nervous. He put the book away.

“You never let me hold your hand,” Y/N’s cheeks were tinted red with shyness. She had been pondering on how to talk to him about this for days now, yet seeing him so flustered made her surprisingly tense. “You avoid touching me with your hands in general, actually,” her chuckle sounded as forced and nervous as his, “is… Is there something wrong? Would you feel better if I stopped touching you so much? Does it make you uncomfortable? Because I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Katsu. You can talk to me about things like that, you know it.”

He couldn’t get himself to answer, unable to move or truly process her words. He really thought he had been slick, huh? He really thought she’d never notice, he really thought she’d never care. How would she feel if he told her he was afraid to hurt her, that he was afraid he would lose control of his quirk and burn her somehow, like he had done with Izuku all those years ago? Would she think he was childish and silly, too? Such childish, silly bullshit, Bakugou Katsuki scared of holding hands with his girlfriend, scared of touching her and holding her like she deserved to because what if it went wrong? What if he fucked it up? The best thing Katsuki could do, for himself and for others, was to keep his hands to himself, even if they felt cold and empty and his big red eyes filled with tears at the loss of such a comforting habit.

People are a lot harder to patch up, his father told him. He didn’t want to be guilty of screwing this up, didn’t want to destroy the relationship he cherished so, so much. Would she think he was weak for being this reluctant? Would she laugh at his stupid antics and tell him to grow up and stop being such a softie? Would she get mad? Should he even tell her?

“Katsu?” her soft voice relaxed his muscles like it habitually did, and he sighed deeply before meeting her worried eyes. “Talk to me?”

Y/N had always had this amazing talent of making him feel at ease. Ever since they met, so many months ago, she had this blinding quality that urged him to be quieter, calmer, less defensive. She didn’t even have to try tearing down his walls — they simply melted away when she smiled at him for the first time. He had never really talked about this issue with anyone else before, and he didn’t know how to even start, but Y/N made him want to try. Still, the words felt heavy on his tongue.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered so quietly that she leaned in to hear him, furrowing her eyebrows in disagreement.

“Come on, Katsu. Please?”

He inhaled deeply. She stared patiently, waiting for him to organize his own thoughts enough to explain the thousands of things running through his mind. When his eyes met hers again, he felt warm all over. Katsuki loved the way she looked at him — there was no fear, no ulterior interest, no nonsensical admiration. She looked at him and she saw… Katsuki. Just that. And, strangely, that seemed enough.

The boy averted his eyes from hers. “I don’t want to hurt you with my quirk.”

Oh. Oh? That, well, that was definitely unexpected. The crease in Y/N’s eyebrows deepened.

“Why would you ever hurt me, Katsuki?”

The future hero lifted his head to look at her instantly, confusion swimming in his red gaze as he answered, “I mean by accident, Y/N. I—,” he almost stopped himself right there, yet her expression caused him to continue, “I really liked holding hands when I was younger, you know? With my friends, teachers, family, and all that,” his ears were bright pink with embarrassment that subsided when she smiled softly at the new information, “it made me feel safe or whatever. Then I—then I got my quirk and, sometimes, when I held hands with people it just—,” he exhaled heavily before letting out a sad, defeated laugh, “I have burned a nasty amount of people. I don’t want to do that with you, too. I’d never want to hurt you.”

Katsuki was hardly a vulnerable person. He tried to be, yes, because he wanted this to work and for it to work he had to meet her halfway somehow during certain moments, but it was so, so difficult. It was so difficult for him to open up and talk about one of his biggest insecurities of all time, about one of the things he most craved for. He didn’t want to scare her away.

“Katsuki.” Her tone was serious and she stared at him with such intensity that he lost the ability to breathe for a second. “I understand where you’re coming from, but that’s bullshit.”

Bakugou blinked. “What?”

“You’d never hurt me, okay? I know you wouldn’t. I trust you, Katsu, so much. I’m sorry I didn’t ask you about this before,” she bit her lip thoughtfully while he could only stand there, dumbfounded with her reaction.

Out of all his imagined worst-case scenarios, this was a surprise.

“Katsu,” the girl called to him again, smiling lovingly in that way that made his world spin in its axis when they first met, “do you trust me too?”

“Of course I do,” there was no hesitation this time. Of course he did.

“Can I touch your hands?”

Once again, he froze on the spot. She looked at him expectantly.

People are a lot harder to patch up. She was trying, though. She was really trying to fix the ripped pieces of himself he tried to bury under anger and seclusion, pretending there was nothing wrong and that this was just how things were supposed to be.

Bakugou looked down at his own hands, studying them carefully. With a last shaky exhale, he nodded.

She took his hands in hers, letting her fingers interlace with his cautiously so as to not startle him. Her thumb caressed his palm ever so softly and he fought the instinctive flinch that threatened to push her away. After years without it, this type of touch felt too intimate, too close, too new.

He liked it.

He smiled.

“See? Nothing to worry about.” Y/N smiled back, grinning when he took it upon himself to squeeze her hand in appreciation. “You’re fine, Katsuki. I like holding your hand.”

His smile grew wider and he leaned in to kiss her, living for the feeling of her fingers squeezing his while their lips moved slowly. They had kissed a million times before, yet this felt different. If given the chance, Katsuki probably wouldn’t mind being stuck in that moment forever, with her lips on his and his hands on hers — Y/N had melted away all his walls and defenses from the start, and he was incredibly glad. He was incredibly glad for her.

His heart was beating fast inside his chest, especially when she pulled one of his hands up slightly to let it cup her face. A shiver went down his spine as he felt the curve of her jaw under his fingertips, the softness of her skin touching his. When there was not any air left in their lungs, they parted from each other. She turned her face to kiss his palm affectionately and his entire face seemed to burst with love and gratitude.

“I like holding your hand, too.”

She giggled, and, for the first time, Bakugou felt like it’d be alright if he decided not to keep his hands to himself. Such childish, silly bullshit, waiting around when he could’ve been holding hands this whole time.

A/N: so that was it!!! i hope you liked it!!! hehe hello

taglists

all: @kiedhara @wingeddemonclub @thedemigodsarealivebitch @ray-ofmoonlight

also tagging @tsuhika bc i am: a fan and you gave us permission to tag you in shit SOO KJSFBIUEFB LMAO SORRY

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha x reader #bnha #mha #mha x reader

1K notes · View notes

semischarmed · 3 years

Text

Projection

Have I ever told you about how the astral plane works? So, here’s a little secret about me. I’ve been dabbling the past few years a little in lucid dreaming. Well, it turns out I have a knack for it, and it’s amazing, I can go around doing whatever I want. I climbed Mount Everest, flew through the skies, visited Paris. The possibilities are literally endless. And, me being me, I like to go around in these dreams trying different ways at possessing people.

Of course, since it’s still a dream at the end of the day, the experience is somewhat detached. As fucking hot as it is, flooding my dream self inside my hot neighbor, or phasing into that cute barista at the Starbucks down the street, I always wake up to a sense of disappointment. There’s only so much the brain can make up. I’m not particularly smart or imaginative either, so it honestly feels like half my energy is spent just trying to maintain that dream.

So that led me to try other means. Of course, the next logical step was astral projection. Unlike a dream, when you project, you yourself are experiencing the world- the real world. I wanted to try my hand at projecting into people.

I found a book online that detailed specific steps on how to achieve this. I think this was where the trouble began. In addition to being a great lucid dreamer, I was apparently an astral projection savant. The book mentioned it could take months before I could manifest my full body outside the physical plane, and years before I could untether and explore the world. It took me two days before I was able to leave my own body and jump inside people.

All things considered, astral projection is a bit of a dead end. I thought I’d be able to jump inside people, control them, live as them, fuck as them, the works. Well, the human body is resilient. It knows what soul belongs in it, so there’s not much to do inside someone, you can’t really influence what they do, and people seem to pick up on the odd sensation of someone else being in the room with them, so even when I do jump inside someone masturbating or fucking, half of them stop on the spot. Still, when you’re in someone who’s a little more fearless, you feel their body as them, and, let me just say, it’s hot being inside someone when they masturbate. It’s like feeling your own hand do the deed, but you feel it as them. You feel every muscle, every feeling, every thought. The hot ones kind of suck at it, but the afterglow is pure bliss.

This book gives one strange rule on projection though: Twins, especially identical ones, are unique. They hold a special bond. “Do not project into a twin.” Given this ominous warning and my curiosity, and given how much of an expert I already was at this whole projecting thing, I had no choice but to try.

———

The first time I projected into a twin, was magical. Of course, I knew immediately who I wanted to test this on. The hot twins who lived down the street who were especially close. They seemed to have different people over all the time so at the very least, they were active. I had my sights on one particular twin: Chase. Goddamn what a specimen.

I decided to go into a sleeping Chase as a trial run during one of my late nights. The twins apparently slept on the same bed, which was a bit weird but was perhaps a testament to to their closeness. I thought it was kind of cute. Like with all projection, the body resists the intrusion and I have to claw my way into him. Easy enough.

Chase’s twin Caleb immediately stirred with eyes closed in confusion- “Chase... are you there?” The slumbering Chase did not respond. Upon closer inspection, I caught sight of Caleb’s slumbering form talking to the spirit of Chase that he took inside himself. Oh shit does this mean what I think it means? Then I decided to move inside Chase’s body while his form followed my spirit’s commands. I knew it.

The first thing I did once I realized I had full control of Chase, of course, was to start playing with this new dick. In my excitement, I was immediately drawn back into my own form, awoken by my raging hard-on. Damn it! Fucking tease. I decided to finish beating it out, with Chase’s hot bod on my mind and a resolve from then on to get better at this projecting thing and stay longer inside him.

I made a fascinating discovery that day- a discovery that had probably prompted that ominous message in the first place. Twins are already naturally connected in spirit, so when you astral project into a twin, you can displace them and the owner’s spirit actually has a welcome place to go.

———

The second time I projected into a twin, I went into the wrong one. Equally unfortunate was that they seemed to have just had a fight, sitting in and angry silence before going to their respective rooms. I really should have done more research as far as who lived where because the person’s back that I slammed into was none other than Caleb. Likewise, it was apparently possible for twins to resist the displacement. This one was a fighter. The first thing I try to do in his body is flow into each limb and untether him. This proved to be fruitless, as he was easily able to fend off my attacks, kicking me right out of his body. I wasn’t one to lose a challenge so I again attempted a different route this time, concentrating all of me into his mind- control the mind and the body follows. Failure again. My final route was perhaps the cruelest, I expanded and positioned my soul to encompass all of him and began an all out barrage for control of his bod. Back and forth, my spirit squeezed in and out into him from all sides until he could no longer defend himself.

Finally, his soul submitted and I felt an emptying motion, accompanied by a quick shout from the other room. “H-What the fuck!” Chase barged in, visibly shaking, hands on his head in a mix of pain and confusion. He looked at me intently with an emotion I could not attribute. In response I gave a quick smirk and flipped him off with his own body before stating “Caleb, you’re pretty cute too. You like this? This is mine now.” As I start doing poses with his body, the emotion of my temporary twin became clear. Desire.

I stripped shirtless and began doing push-ups with his body, easily clearing 70 before finally breaking a sweat. I stood up and raised my Caleb arms, imbuing the room with his scent. Caleb looked on from Chase’s body with silent intent.

I then used Caleb’s nose to sniff his own armpits, used his own tongue to lick it clean, used his own mouth to flash him a demented smile. “Caleb, you taste very good, just like your hot brother,” I stated “-cmon, join meeee Chase... let’s do something sacrilegious” I ended with a wink. Of course, my fucking body woke up again, just when it was getting good. In the process, Chase also fell unconscious, as the real Caleb returned to himself. As I felt the last of my spirit be pulled back, and the waking world return, I caught the troubling sight of Caleb, back inside his own body, furiously masturbating over the events that had transpired.

——-

The third time I projected into a twin, he fell into depravity with me. Truth be told, I was again making a beeline right for Chase because, come on, look this face. Just as I was about to claim that tight ass, I felt myself get dragged into Caleb. A-fucking-gain. This time felt different though- he was still in the body with me. That in itself wasn’t too odd, given our fight from last time, but even stranger this time around was that his body was willing. It readily welcomed my soul. His form followed my spirit’s every move, yet I still felt his soul present, compliant. I decided to do what I meant to do in Chase and began masturbating. At the end of the day, they were twins after all, Caleb was still fucking hot to cum through, and I was not one to miss an opportunity.

“Well I think today’s little trip is gonna be a two-for one” I said with his voice as I finished. I then purged myself from Caleb’s physical form and headed straight for Chase until I felt a part of my current body pull me back. My spectral form attempted to claw myself back towards Chase, but Caleb’s pull had been too strong. He wasn’t letting me go. My spirit recoiled and slammed right back into his and I felt a part of myself stain Caleb. “I didn’t say you could leave,” he commanded, forcing me to watch as he began to rub our body with his warm seed. Hot. We both brought some of it up to our shared mouth, taking in all that we had just completed. “If you want, I’ll let you go so you can go inside that asshole Chase”, he states, “Make him dirty like me...or I’ll have to”. That last line definitely threw me off. Though I meant to to investigate further, I again felt the pull of the waking world from my own body. He moaned a quick “thank you” before passing out.

The return trip to myself equally odd. The human body naturally resists a little before accepting a spirit, even when it’s the owner of that body but somehow mine accepted me with no push back. Something was off.

Still, being inside these twins was fucking hot and I was not going to let a few unfounded fears stop me. I set plans for my return trip to them.

———

The fourth time I projected into a twin was also the most impactful. I once again aimed for Chase, but immediately ran into a confusing sight...

Standing before me was Chase, or rather, Chase’s body, unconscious in frozen discomfort. As far as his soul, however, I could see its form convulsing and contorting in pain. I then catch sight of the cause of that pain- Caleb’s spectral form was somehow deep inside Chase’s filling into him. It’s like watching an infection in real-time.

I stood, or rather hovered, in silence at the bizarre display I had witnessed. Evidently, that was a mistake, because before I aimed to leave this terrifying sight and head back, I notice Chase’s unconscious form raise its head, turn right at me and give me a toothy, wicked smile. “I can see you”. Chase’s body licks its lips. “You probably didn’t know this but independent little Chase over here has been planning on leaving for a while now. Said we should split. Move to a different cities. Live out our own.” Chase’s body opens it’s eyes and starts walking to Caleb’s slumbering form. He leans over and starts making out with the unconscious Caleb. “Oh Caleb” he moans “Don’t worry. I’m never gonna leave you” Chase’s lips gently pry open Caleb’s and he snakes his tongue inside. Parts of Caleb’s cheek puff up and back down as Chase’s tongue explores every crevice. He sucks a little before letting out a satisfied sigh “so...so that’s what I taste like,” he says breathlessly.

Chase then starts playing with himself right next to his twin’s sleeping form and I couldn’t help but get a bit aroused. “You always were the hotter twin” Chase says to himself as he continues tracing his own calloused hands all over. His attention moves to the unconscious Caleb, who he stops first to ponder for a moment before beginning to pump. He then positions Chase’s mouth over his original body to expertly deepthroat his own dick. This stirs the Caleb body to life, and he makes them both finish on each other off.

With both bodies, Caleb finishes licking himself clean. “Since it’s all me over here, this is technically just masturbating” he says confidently, as if to justify the disturbing sight I just witnessed. Caleb then positions Chase’s sweaty body behind his and has Chase wrap his sweaty biceps into an embrace from behind. “Like I said bro [moan], I’m never leaving you”. Two amused pairs of eyes then look directly at me. “You’re never leaving us either right? We have to thank you somehow for this,” they say, gesturing at their incestuous selves. I am immediately creeped out. After thinking for a few seconds, they chime in unison “Welcome to the family! We have a present for you”. With that, Caleb drops unconscious. That was signal enough for me, giving me shock I need to head straight back for my body.

Of course, by the time I get there, I instead see my own self, sitting naked, eyes rolled back and moaning as he maneuvers my hands all over. I see him continue to explore me, twisting my nipples, which, fuck that feels good, masturbating me, using my own body to maneuver in ways I never did before. With Caleb inside, my body moves with a confidence I never had. The experience is surreal. The sheer pleasure more or less stuns my soul on the spot. When my physical body finishes cumming, Caleb brings our hands to scoop it up and, oddly, it tasted different- slightly salty, slightly sweet, slightly Caleb. He sniffs our armpit and, again, the scent was rank, putrid, and nothing I’ve ever created. What was coming out of my body was undeniably Caleb.

“Mmmmmm... property of Caleb now” he says with my voice, as he rubs my Caleb-smelling sweat all over. Admittedly this was kind of hot. With an assured stride that I didn’t know my body could perform, Caleb opens my door, greeted by a Chase carrying his own unconscious twin. Caleb brings my body to his own and starts defiling himself. He turns his own body around and starts fucking it with my penis. Fuck that also feels good. With each pump, his own body starts to animate, ever so slightly. When he finally cums, my physical form falls unconscious and Caleb stirs awake. I take this as my chance to get back inside me. Success.. and god with Caleb smeared all over me, I smell disgustingly good.

“You’ll never leave me, right?” The body in front of me questioned. I’m a bit taken aback and try to stammer out a response “Uh...-“ before I could finish, Chase penetrates me from behind. “That would be a no” He whispers before giving my ear a playful bite. Why did he have to be so cute. This whole series of events was something straight out of my dreams. Despite this, my self preservation instincts kick into overdrive. Whatever this is, however good this feels, I need to get out. Fast.

As if he could read my mind, Caleb’s body smiles as he makes his twin use his rough fingers to gently grab my hair and pull me back. He leans Chase over to give me a deep, sensual kiss. “Oh well, Chase isn’t here anymore. Caleb took me, all of me. We’ve always had a deep connection... but he wanted more-I trusted him and he used that love to get inside me, pervert my soul... he’s in so deep inside me now that Caleb is all that’s left.” He wipes his sweaty face all over mine and continues making out. He then starts gyrating his hips, pushing more of himself inside my body as the Caleb body does the opposite and swallows more of my still-hardened rod with his ass. I feel the throbbing almost impossibly deep inside me from Chase’s dick as they proceed. “Thank you for this” they moan in unison.

They continue humping me from both sides, locking me in a paralyzed bliss. “We wanted to give you something special for keeping us close” they say. Then I felt it in my soul. Caleb. He pulls my spirit out and with his twin souls begin to fuck me in the astral plane. The feeling is indescribable. Nirvana. Bliss. Ecstasy. Enveloped by and merged to Caleb and Chase’s spectral forms, completion. This could be me. This could be us forever.

Then reality snaps back and I am floating alone. I finally regain my composure I try to head back to my unconscious, smiling body. No dice. “Occupied” it says with a chuckle. I head for Chase’s instead, “mmmm getting close” it moans. My body grins wider and motions to the unconscious Caleb. He spits with both bodies at his own motionless form. “Go ahead, take you new place, Caleb”. With no other option, I fill into the empty Caleb shell.

Chase and my body then start fucking each other. Hard. Messy. He’s doing more things with my body that I didn’t even know was possible, and as the original owner of my body, and the current inhabitant of Caleb’s, I feel both motions amplified. Im sure he feels the same.

As Chase, he turns my body around, and again rams his thick dick inside. My body involuntarily gasps, which causes me to gasp inside of Caleb. He forces a wicked, dirty smile out of my body’s face as he plunges ever deeper. He slips Chase’s sweaty abs onto my body’s back, wraps tone, sweaty Chase biceps over mine into an armlock from behind and takes plump Chase lips into a quick peck on my body’s cheek. My body then sags unconscious. Despite the sight, the smell throughout the sweaty combination was undeniably just Caleb’s.

Chase’s eyes flutter and his body trembles as Caleb repossessed his twin’s body with the extra soul he stuffed mine with. With double the soul inside, Chase exudes double the vitality and in that sweaty embrace, Caleb again gyrated his twin’s body into mine as he fills it with double the seed- double the soul. “T-thank you for the house warming present. I’ll take real good care of you-you’ll take real good care of us” he moans, as Chase’s body now goes unconscious as well. Dread fills me.

Aside from the odd cases with twins, human bodies know who their masters are. The act of imbuing a soul into a different body is, in and of itself, unnatural. So it was at this point that my empty body starts involuntarily writhing, trying to escape. I see tears well in my closed eyes, still unconscious from effort. Of course, as Caleb, I motion to protect myself from whatever was going to occur next and set to pull my unconscious form off the Chase embrace. Before I could pull my body out of the entrapment, it shoots awake, face swinging upward to face me. Bright white eyes shoot open. Behind my skin I see a force pushing deep inside, stretching it unnaturally. The visage of Chase appears, beneath my flesh, wearing my face like a mask. Though it’s Chase’s spirit he melds, the smile growing is undeniably Caleb. When it all settles, eyes roll back into place. Instead of my normal eyes, Chase’s pale blue orbs appear in their place. The crooked smile grows to a laugh on my body, teeth looking odd, until I realize it was Chase’s own molars poking through my own mouth. He takes shallow breaths and smears more sweat around himself, and though I can’t place if it was my own body’s sweat or Chase’s, the smell emanating is fully Caleb. Bones crack, skin shivers and stretch and contract and construct and I feel, from my own soul, a massive wave of nausea.

If astral projection into another is, in itself, an unnatural act, astral displacement, astral merging was another layer of corruption entirely, it was unholy. He was changing something in me, fundamentally. Wave after wave of Chase’s flesh bleed into my body from Caleb’s onslaught. My nausea shifts into a unique pain, a pain of the soul, originating from where he stuffed my physical form full of Chase’s seed-Caleb’s seed, mixing and amalgamating us into a wholly new being. Musculature appears in place of the frame of my body’s previous shape as more and more of it is twisted and contorted. Then, perhaps in one last push of defiance, my body screams involuntarily, and I, in Caleb, scream.

“So you’ll never leave me, like he planned to” Caleb says, with a mix of my voice and his, as he rams the last, massive part of himself into my body. My physical form’s face contorts in discomfort one last time before Caleb settles it into satisfaction. “Look at us” he states as he runs vascular new hands over my body’s new face and then uses that new face to give me a seductive wink. “We’re cute as a button”. The transformation was complete- my old self no longer recognizable in the new brother he had created.

The change, of course, had hit my soul as well. From inside Caleb I screamed...convulsed...shook... moaned... you know, the works. When that last bit of Caleb dug inside my spirit and changed me, I truly felt him, felt my twin, felt his love. I’ll be a better Chase for him than Chase ever was. Our souls are bonded for life. I am a part of Caleb now, and he is a part of me. Everyone experiences it differently, but we’re all grateful after to have Caleb inside us, to be a part of something greater. I like to think I have the extra privilege of being his twin, new and improved, wearing his old body’s skin while he wears and controls mine. And sometimes, with his permission, I get to play around inside the others. Sometimes we switch and he lets me jump inside Chase, like I’m doing now. The only body off limits is my old one. I like to think that makes me special, it’s the only body Caleb keeps his soul in 100 percent of the time. It’s proof of our special connection. And he wears the new me so well, better than I ever could anyways.

And, well, that takes us to today doesn’t it? Why even tell you all of this? Caleb likes you. I like you. We like you. And we think it’s time to expand the family again. You got some good traits to work with- we’ll get a lot use out of that bod, after a few adjustments. You’re probably feeling a little sleepy now. Sorry, guilty, that was me. Oh this thick Chase dick you feel inching deeper inside your ass? Yep, obviously also me. But, cmon future bro, dig deeper, listen with your body. What else are you feeling? Do you feel our love, throbbing in you? Do you something else, leaking inside? Do you feel these calloused Chase hands pulling you ever deeper into us? Do you feel him? Do you feel Caleb already worming himself into you? Good. Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of you. You’re gonna love us. We’re gonna be fucking hot together after we’re done with you. Welcome Home.

—End —

Wanted to explore something a little different with this one. Hope y'all like it!

#male possession #twin possession #male body swap

693 notes · View notes

lioncunt · 3 years

Text

any way the wind blows review!!!

gonna put it under a cut but tl;dr i really really loved it and even the things that i was on the fence about i’ve decided i love as well lmfao

so i kind of knew going into both this and wayward son that the plot wouldn’t really EVER be as narratively satisfying as carry on’s. it would definitely be interesting and have a lot of cool thematic elements, but in terms of being a grand deconstruction of the “chosen one” genre, it couldn’t ever get better than carry on. and i’m so happy rainbow didn’t try to MAKE it that. she didn’t pull a supernatural and up the stakes to impossible, outlandish degrees. both wayward son and awtwb had realistic, fascinating plots that served as a metaphor for the internal struggles of the characters.

the reason i’m beginning this review by talking about the plot is because it’s what i’ve seen the most criticism directed towards. and like i DO get it, i also was taken aback at first at how the actual plot is kind of background noise for the first couple hundred pages. but like...i think it WORKS. again, this whole trilogy is a deconstruction. that’s its PURPOSE. obviously it’s doing other things as well, but it started by taking this well-worn and well-loved trope and completely turning it on its head, giving us permission to acknowledge all the damage it causes and how our love of this type of story is honestly kind of harmful. we turn off that part of our brains when we read harry potter or something else with traumatized child protagonists, in order for us to actually enjoy it, but the simon snow trilogy has always said, “hey, this is kind of fucked up, huh? you’re allowed to think that.”

anyway, the way that translates to the plot here is that there’s not always some huge mystical big bad, or obviously evil antagonist. the horror can be going on in the world around you, in the background of your day-to-day life dealing with your own shit, creeping up on you until suddenly your loved ones are spouting off nonsense that is an absolutely CHILLING allegory for eugenics, by the way, which i’ve seen NOBODY talk about. the clear political parallels were so well done, but not heavy-handed, and they worked wonderfully as an ending to this story. simon at the end being a target for an angry mob, who are victims of intense ableism themselves (the metaphor of being a weak mage = having a disability), how these religious extremists will point at what they deem abnormal and use them as a scapegoat, the disgusting “survival of the fittest” mentality leading to “i can make this society great again” - it was all just incredibly well written, in my opinion. and the fact that it happened so slowly, in the background, made it all the better. you don’t really notice how bad it’s getting until it’s BAD.

it also, again, works so well as a manifestation of the characters’ inner strife. others have put it better than me already, so i won’t talk about it too much, but the fact that the book is saying you don’t need to be like everyone else in order to accomplish great things and have a good life, you don't need to have magic, you don’t need to be human, you don’t need to be neurotypical or able-bodied or straight or white or ANYTHING these people will have you believe in order to make you obedient to them and hateful to others -- it’s fantastic.

this kind of segues into the other big criticism i’m seeing, which is simon and baz’s one-day breakup. again, this has already been analyzed well, so i won't ramble about it, but wayward son was their breakup. metaphorically speaking. and i’m glad that it didn’t take some big, grand moment for them to get back together, even though it would have been narratively cathartic. that’s not how life works - it was so much better and realistic to have simon face the harsh difficulties of TRYING than dragging out a separation plot line that would have added NOTHING to his character. or baz’s. the only thing about their entire relationship that i would have done a bit differently is shorten the timeline, because a year and a half is a very long and honestly unrealistic time to go in a relationship without talking about sexual history or going on dates, even if there’s a lot of baggage. but that’s not that big a deal and i’m easily able to look past it.

(as a side note I'm getting annoyed at seeing all these takes that there’s too much sexual content. like i get it because the first two books are solidly YA and this is being marketed as YA even though it’s definitely NA, but like....sex is important. sex scenes and sexual content are an extremely important part of depicting the human experience. and lack of sex as well!! every single intimate scene between them was NOT super graphic and had such incredibly important significance narratively and character-wise - and yeah that includes any kinks that were brought up, like jesus they’re in their 20s and have been in a non-sexual relationship for a year and a half i think it’s pretty fucking relevant that there are intimate scenes!!! anyway moving on.)

i really loved penny and shepard’s plot - their relationship was so wonderful and charming and excellent for their characters, and i only wish we could have gotten their demon plot threaded into the larger picture, because after shepard was cured it felt like they were just standing there. that’s one of my very few complaints about the book. but they’re such good characters and i love them SO MUCH.

AND THANK GOD FOR AGATHA AND NIAMH. like i cannot put into words how fucking happy i was when i realized where that was headed. the cinematic nature of agatha and niamh helping the goat give birth while simon’s flying in the chapel and being targeted by a mob was just. so cool like i can’t even describe it it was so coooooool and then agatha and niamh KISSING and agatha found her PLACE and I'm so happy for her.

just in general the characters and relationships were fucking exquisite. i can’t help but love the way RR writes, especially her dialogue. it’s so real and three dimensional and her characters truly come alive and i care about them and love them so much. i’m so happy they’re happy, i wouldn’t have been able to stand it if they weren’t.

and everything got wrapped up so well in my opinion!! i don’t know what the hell people are talking about when they say they still have questions, like girl what about??? simon found his family, simon got a sword that isn’t tied to trauma, baz found out that he’ll get to grow old with simon, all their families are okay, penny and shepard are in love, agatha’s herding goats and a lesbian, there will probably be new threats and antagonists but they'll be able to handle them, life will continue to be difficult but they’ll get through it like WHAT do you not understand what’s not clicking i genuinely want to know.

ok actually i have ONE single question and that’s. did baz pick up the sword at the end. because the way it’s written it sounds like he did and i like do not understand that at all. someone answer please.

anyway that’s my review 10/10 would recommend

#any way the wind blows #awtwb spoilers #simon snow #snowbaz #carry on

77 notes · View notes

redwinterroses · 3 years

Text

RIIIIIIIIIGHT SO.

I just finished chapter 13 of Dog At The Door and holy hot cross buns batman if you're not reading this fic you NEED to. It's literally one of the best written fics I have ever read in my life and I've been reading fanfiction for over 15 years, lol.

I went back and reread the entire fic to lead up to chapter 13 and I decided to treat it like I used to treat things I had to read in college so I took notes as I went and please I am warning you this post is incredibly long. Almost 3k words. PLEASE do not hit that "read more" button unless you're good with having to scroll past it all and also spoilers ahead. Proceed with caution.

~*~

Rereading Dog at the Door reactions (spoilers, obviously):

· Doc finding Ren’s body to be cold and for a second thinking he’s actually dead—my heart

· “That’s Ren, alive and kicking.” Oh…no, Doc. No it’s not.

· The first “Where is my hand?” hits different the second time through

· Gah the ice and winter imagery ALL over the place—my English degree brain wants to watch and see if that shifts to warmth at any point as we go? Thoughts for future Red to think.

· It’s fascinating to me to see Doc constantly thrust into the prey role. This is a guy who is very much not that person normally, but something about the Red King is beyond anything he’s really encountered before—or at least not since Dinnerbone—and it pushes him into an entirely new role that he clearly chafes in

· “I should get back to work on your new arm soon,” he says, making a mental note to add claws to the fingertips. Honestly Doc why tho. XD

· “It feels like something Ren would want him to do.” </3

· Side note: I just watched Doc’s freaking hour long shulker farm vid, and that’s making it a lot easier to hear his voice in this fic

· I’m more curious about the hand.” New Ren laughs a bit at his own words, as though there’s something funny about that phrasing. I MISSED THIS LINE THE FIRST TIME THROUGH

· The bead curtain being cursed hippie treasure XD

· The fact that Doc just so quickly accepts that Ren is gone—maybe not permanently, but at least for now—is kind of heartbreaking. Because you know he hasn’t really accepted it, he’s just… deciding not to feel anything about it. Just nod and move on and pretend you don’t need to stop and cope with the possible/probable death of your best friend and the fact that Someone Else is wearing his skin. That’s so sad.

· “high-fiving the finished hand with his own metal hand.” Aww… Doccy.

· “He shoos away the images of New Ren holding him up by the throat supervillain-style and turns around.” Hmmmmmmm want that fanart. Scary New Ren/RK is good stuff. (post-chapter-13 Red popping in with a WHAT THE HECK)

· “that makes him seem like a ghost in Ren’s body.” YA KNOW. LIKE HE IS.

· Okay side note time: why is the Red King here? Ya know? Like – in 3rdLife the idea of a possessing spirit of bloodlust makes some sense. But why stick around? Was RK trying to escape the 3L server, or was this not deliberate? At what point did he take over from Ren—at Black Heart Altar? In which case, was the whole idea Ren’s to begin with, or was he influenced? Maybe it happened the first time Ren died? The Red King took over then—or at least started to? Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts, thoughts…

· Wait more theories—what if RK is connected to the ????? entity that spoke to Martyn when he died? In which case, cMartyn said he was considering making that canonically a Watcher (he ended up not doing it, but he also didn’t do anything that contradicted it either). I’m not saying RK is a Watcher… but boy he sure does stare a lot, don’t he.

· Holding the screwdriver like a dagger—mmmm

· Okay funny thought: all this frost, RK’s gonna need to be real careful about rust lol. And straining the metal, tbh, all that freezing and thawing is going to have an effect but the rust idea is making me laugh

· Until I realized it would look like blood and it’s not funny anymore

· “Renbob is in the beanbag stuffed next to the driver’s seat” right so is this where Renbob sleeps because I have been wondering—

· “something about having two people look like Ren when neither of them are makes Doc stop to take a shaky breath” *sob*

· “Renbob clears his throat, looking up at Doc with a smile that is so obviously fake that it hurts.” Ugh the LOT of you stop repressing everything you’ll give yourselves a collective hernia

· “he’ll probably have to break the news to the other hermits, too, Iskall and False and all the others.” All these painful lines I somehow missed the first time through

· Awww warm air comes in when Renbob opens the door—with the flowers and everything, Renbob is so easily associated with spring, I love this contrast.

· Aaand there it is, yup, RK is shocked to see his face on Renbob, and Renbob is shocked to see that this is so clearly Not Ren.

· They both recover pretty quickly, though. Survivors, both of them.

· RK calls Renbob their “ferryman” and I’m not sure if I was supposed to get “crossing the river Styx” vibes from that But I Did. (does RK think he’s dead? That they’re all dead?) (post-chapter-13 Red here with a little bit of wordless screaming.) (and also a bit of pride that I picked up on this.)

· “And what a help you’ve been! Fixing me up, replacing my hand.” Hi yes, 911? there’s a dagger stabbed into my feels.

· “he’d rather remember rage than see another person’s heart break.” Dang that’s such a raw line. Oof.

· ”the Red King says, his voice hoarse with tears.” Really interesting that this blood deity can feel such emotions—like, anger or even fear, I can get. But to see this entity upset to the point of tears is fascinating.

· “There is a crown on Doc’s workbench.” Right, yeah so like—is RK unwillingly manifesting these artifacts? Because that’s wild, man. …how long before he manifests an “enchanter”?

· “I’ve never seen it [the crown] clean before.” Okay that definitely implies that maybe RK didn’t come around until after Black Heart Altar?

· “The Red King has the crown in his lap when Doc turns back around, claws gently tracing over the engravings, leaving frost patterns behind.” I really wish I had art skills because there’s this image in my head of a drawing of the crown held in RK’s hands, with his face (one eye glowing, one in shadow) reflected in the surface, and frost patterns following behind a claw that’s daintily tracing the surface. But I can’t draw so—

· RK asks for a change of clothes. What was he wearing when they rescued him, I wonder? The Red King outfit with the fur capelet? Or Ren’s Stargazer outfit? Which begs the question: where does Stargazer fit into all this? Was Ren’s return to Hermitcraft RK free, but when he came so close to dying to Sith, RK found that as a gateway to take over? (Post-13 Red here, Looking Intently at this note.)

· Awww… the image of a one-legged RK clutching new clothes to his chest and hopping down to change in the bathroom… That’s weirdly endearing. He’s less menacing when he stands up somehow. Less lurking, maybe.

· Oooohhhhh he messed up his back sleeping on the floor. Gotcha.

· Doc keeps telling himself (and RK) that saving him and working on these parts is “the right thing to do” and while he’s not WRONG I just want to see him realize that it’s not only the right thing, it’s realistically the only thing, because if he didn’t, then he’d have to deal with the fact that he’s lost his best friend and we can’t have that.

· “I don’t need to eat” ummmmmm no hold on this definitely implies that RK is possessing a dead body and I’m not okay with that where is Ren

· LOLOL “I can’t stand to see [you do] this” is such a raw line to be about watching Doc eat cereal with his hands

· “The voice doesn’t belong to who he thinks it does.” Ugh, Doc. This isn’t the first time he’s lost a close friend to Something Else, something otherworldly.

· “All of them are waiting for him, waiting for him to do something more, something better—” aaand there it is. Doc’s characterization in this fic in a single sentence.

· Doc waking up and thinking he’s seeing Ren and RK’s hesitation and the gentle “I’m not Ren”—OH MY HEART

· RK’s coffee = Renbob’s friendship bracelets

· Randomly can I just say that I love how RK’s dialog is all in italics? It concerned me at first because I thought it was going to keep pulling me out of the narrative, but instead it really just feels right. Also I’m looking forward to the moment when he says something and it’s not in italics because it’s REN and oh my lands please give this to me I beg you (post-13 Red here with a bit more mindless screaming)

· “watch your tongue with me, Atlas, because I’m the one person you can pass the sky to.” Okay okay okay—English studies brain coming out. This suggests that there is a burden RK and Doc can share: something Doc is currently struggling against that only RK can help him with. In the moment, I don’t know if this is really fair of RK to say—after all, Doc does technically have Renbob too, if we’re just talking about Doc’s unhealthy coping mechanisms. In fact, if that’s the context, then Renbob is a much better fellow-Atlas because he and Doc have known each other much longer and they’re both dealing with the loss of Ren. BUT, knowing about the upcoming conversation where Doc and RK both realize that they’ve lost someone (Ren for Doc, Martyn for RK) this line suddenly has a lot more weight. Again, I don’t think that in that moment RK quite has the right to pull this zinger. But in later context, it turns out to be true after all. They are the only two with this particular shared pain.

· Doc upset with himself because he can’t get over his “stupid hang-ups” DOC MY LAD. “I’ve lost my best friend, you’re in his body, and I don’t know how to process any of these emotions” is not a “stupid hang-up” PLEASE stop blaming yourself for everything!?

· “I’m so tired” in the middle of his nightmare—oh my gosh. That hurts so much for some reason.

· I also very much wish I had the ability to draw the image of Doc with tears on his face, staring dead-eyed down at his workbench while RK looms over from behind, pinning his wrists to the table with one metal arm and one frost-bitten one, a look of exasperation and concern on his face. Why can’t I draw the things

· “How do you know Etho” “I watched him die.” OW ow ow ow ow

· Doc takes this as calmly as only someone used to living in a world where death has low consequences can. Oh. Oh—that means… huh. Doc isn’t used to losing people permanently on any basis, especially not death. So no wonder he doesn’t know how to process Ren being gone (I can’t bear to write “dead” there). He literally doesn’t have context for it… and what context he DOES have is like—I mean, Etho and Bdubs came back. Ouch.

· “Twenty-five.” The Red King makes the number sound like a threat. Yet another banger line I missed the first time through. Imagine waking up and thinking you’re in 3rd Life again but instead of 14 players there’s almost twice that many and you think you don’t know any of them.

· I still don’t quite understand the “when was etho added/should have known there was something different” bit or why RK is so emotional about it… but I have trust that it’ll make sense at some point. (post-13 Red: ...is this something about the fact that he thinks he's dead...so he thinks Etho has died before? Like, that 3rd Life wasn't Etho's first hardcore? ...I feel like I'm almost grasping this but I'm missing an element somewhere.)

· And now a sword. RK. My man. You need to stop manifesting things—especially when they scare the ever-living daylights out of you.

· I absolutely adore the in-universe lore that Fire Aspect is a PvP enchantment because it threatens dropped loot, and yeah I very well might steal that. (Along with something I read at one point who-even-knows-where that Knockback is a coward’s enchantment, because I love that too.)

· He really shouldn’t. / Doc picks up the sword by the scabbard and hands it to him, hilt extended. Doc you already trust this guy so much and you don’t even know it—but is it just because you still subconsciously trust the face he wears? Or is it something deeper?

· Ugh, the “I was supposed to kill someone for him” conversation/scene is SO FREAKING GOOD

· “I don’t want it. Not like the crown.” Why, though? Why doesn’t he want it? Because it’s more to do with death than kingship? OH. Oh, I hadn’t even considered that. I’ve been thinking of RK as this like, god of blood and vengeance but maybe he’s not. Maybe he hates the bloodshed (“the blood! It’s drippin’ in me eyes… I’ve been blinded by the violence…”) just as much—more?—than Ren did/would have. Huh. That’s a new facet.

· Oh my heart the “have you ever lost someone and it was your fault” line. Dagger to the feels. Dagger to the feels.

· This like… “I’m on a roll and even though I know I should stop I really don’t want to” mode? Man. That’s relatable. Especially when you’re working to avoid dealing with something else.

· “Not making it for you—it’s for Ren” oh ouch ouch ouch the denial suddenly breaks through it’s okay, Doc I’m with you on this

· The second time reading through it’s far clearer that Doc has a blind panic attack here—when he starts rambling that Ren’s coming back, he’ll be there for season eight and RK goes to…do whatever he was going to do and Doc just blanks out. The manic productivity should have been a warning sign, the poor guy is crumbling.

· “Doctor” and “he’s not sure he deserves that title right now” UGH Doc needs a hug someone please hug him and tell him it’s all going to be okay. Someone please hug me and tell me it’s all going to be okay.

· “his hand on his throat” over the scar from the Red Winter axe? </3

· “I did do that. I have done that.” RK admitting to it actually having been him in Doc’s nightmares?

· Okay sorry the conversation about beating Dinnerbone will never not be funny to me

· RK mentions that people used to call him m’lord or Ren, and then mere minutes later you have “Ren. You couldn’t save him because of me, could you?” He knows exactly what’s going on here. Not maliciously, but he’s no dense-head, he’s put the pieces together. (post-13 Red: MOST of the pieces. Most of them.)

· Watching Doc slowly stop fighting his nightmares—like, the first time, he fights. The second time, he accepts it but still struggles. And this time… this time he gives up before it even starts. That hurts, man.

· Good grief the whole “get my head chopped off” / “you really don’t want that” bit. O.O I’m not sure what emotion I’m feeling but I’m Feeling An Emotion.

· “Snow’s new. Dream’s not.” </3

· …Doc’s not gonna be a fan of snowier-snow after this trip…

· "Dr. M77" Actually he’s Doc Monster, RK, but we’ll let it go. XD

· OKAY BUT THIS EXCHANGE? The “how are you feeling” / “better” / “you’re a bad liar” / “I said better not great” that’s such a good exchange and I don’t know why every other time I’ve ever seen it used they stop at the lying accusation? Doc with the snappy comebacks, man.

· Aaah, Doc and RK, two establishment bros bonding over a shared disdain for hippies.

· The bit about the fella who wore an iron helmet and called it a powdered wig—fear is in my heart. *shoves Scar into an obsidian box and blocks it closed*

· “Who was Ren to you?” </3

· Doc is more than willing to spread the flames, to sear his loss into RK’s bones. / The king’s face stops him. Ren’s face stops him. Holy CRAP is that a good set of lines. So much going on there, and ALL of it good.

· Again. I wish I could draw. I would draw RK sitting on the edge of the bed, gently hugging a collapsed-in-on-himself Doc. </3

· “And I hate the devil that forced us apart, that mixed my blood with his.” *adds another layer to Scar’s obsidian fort*

· OKAY STARTING CHAPTER THIRTEEN I made the mistake of logging into Tumblr earlier and saw people screaming so I’m sure I’m not ready for this but here we go

· Oh no RK has been hippie-ified

· “You started a paramilitary organization because you have hay fever?” *dies laughing*

· Ugh I need to go back and watch s6 I’ve only seen the tail end of Mumbo’s side of things and there’s so much I don’t know.

· HAHAHAHAH I do know the trident bit though—

· Wait he said Scar

· PANIC

· “Kingslayer. bloodthirsty. Time King. The coward. And the mastermind behind it all, the loyal soldier to the very end, the whole damn reason either of us are in this mess.”

· HOLY CRAP HOLY CRAP HOLY—

· “Is this the afterlife I deserve? After everything, this is the hell I’m going to endure?” I AM SCREAMING

· Doc pinned to the wall with ice, struggling to breathe—I CAN’T WHAT IS HAPPENING

· ((You know I’d get through this a lot faster if I stopped pausing to write reactions—))

· “A break in the ice. A whisper of spring.” Symbolism. Symbolism.

· “Ren was dead when I found him again,” NO I REFUSE TO READ THIS

· “don’t use the hand I built you to hurt yourself” DOC. SIR. MY HEART.

· RK don't run, RK get back here—what are you—

· I

· JUST

· ACTUALLY

· SCREAMED

· AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

· *several long moments of just breathing*

· *rereads*

· Holy crap on a garbage cracker with an extra serving of what-the-heck sauce

· REN

· Okay lol okay hahaha calming down

· I literally threw myself back in my chair away from the computer reading that last paragraph. I don't usually... physically react to things I read. LOL. Heh. I’m. Ah. I’m not emotionally invested in this or anything.

· Holy crap.

· Okay. Okay. Okay.

· Um.

· Great chapter, guys. Awesome stuff. Really good. I’m absolutely okay right now and it’s all totally fine.

· …please enjoy your break and get lots of rest and I very much look forward to the return of this fic you have no idea.

· I need to go breathe for a little bit.

EDIT: no, you know what--I'm not going to be a nice polite fangirl over here and quietly hope y'all see this I'm straight up tagging you, @fluffy-papaya and @betweenlands. THANK YOU but also how dare.

#The only reason I'm even posting this is for my own remembering later #and i guess if fluffy or solar want to see my mindless ramblings -- go nuts #long post #redwinterreacts #redwintertalks #dog at the door

86 notes · View notes

five-rivers · 3 years

Text

Danger First

Chapter 9

@pocketramblr

Banjo took Hikage to the side while the other ghosts were still wading through their existential crisis.

"Man," he said, "Hikage, bro. You know I love you."

"You do?"

"Like... at least eighty-five percent of the time."

"Ah, continue."

"But next time you think one of us has a secret relative out there, you've got to say something so we don't get blindsided."

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

"Alright, then. I couldn't help but notice that both Ninth's mother and 'Tomura' share a strong resemblance to Nana."

"... I've changed my mind."

Although Midoriya Inko had abandoned the tech conference as soon as she heard about the attack on the USJ, she, unlike the mist villain, could not teleport. Therefore, Izuku was stuck in the nurse's office even after he had woken up and paramedics had confirmed that his injuries began and ended at bruises and quirk exhaustion. (And a potentially fractured bone in his foot, but that wasn't worth mentioning.)

Sitting next to the police officer with nothing to do was... awkward. Very awkward. His hands itched for his notebooks, but everything they brought to the USJ was evidence, and he hadn't been allowed to go back to the classroom. He wanted to know what happened to his classmates and Mr. Aizawa, who he hadn't seen since he ran away from the plaza and left him with the hand villain, and Mr. Yagi, who had really taken a beating from Nomu. Danger Sense was quiet, relatively speaking, but Float was just waiting to be used and tested.

Plus, he really, really had to talk to Mr. Yagi about that. Loads of his classmates had seen him use Float. How was he supposed to explain having Float right after telling them he probably had a sensory quirk?

Plus, if he got Float, it stood to reason that he'd get all the other One for All users' quirks as well. So he had to figure out how to make Danger Sense, Float, Smokescreen, Blackwhip, and a strength enhancement all look like the same quirk. Which, maybe they were, technically, considering that Monoma had sensed One for All as a single quirk but whatever was going on with the mist villain as multiple quirks...

Point was, One for All definitely functioned as multiple quirks.

Would his friends think he was lying? No, he'd definitely proven Danger Sense existed by predicting, however loosely, the attack.

"Hey, Tamakawa."

Izuku and the officer looked up at one of the detectives who had come to take initial statements. His name was... Tsukauchi, Izuku thought. Mr. Yagi (as Mr. Yagi) was standing behind him.

"I can take it from here. I have a few more questions for Midoriya."

"Yes, sir. Midoriya." He nodded at them as he left the room.

"How are you feeling, Young Midoriya?" asked Mr. Yagi, taking the officer's spot with a slight groan.

"Uh, better than this morning, actually," he said. "But, um, but what about you? That Nomu guy kept, um..." His eyes trailed towards the detective.

"Ah, this is Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa. He's an old friend of mine. He knows... well, just about everything about me."

Izuku nodded slowly. "So, he knows about, um..."

"I know about One for All," said Tsukauchi.

"Oh," said Izuku. He rapidly gathered together his thoughts, trying to decide what the most important piece of information he had to impart was. "Do you know what happened to Mr. Aizawa? And Ingenium?"

That was most definitely not a piece of information. Stupid brain.

"The portal villain, Kurogiri, teleported Aizawa off UA grounds, but he was able to get help quickly after that. Ingenium had some injuries that need a specialist, so he went home. They'll be alright, but they'll probably have to take a few days off."

"Yes," said Tsukauchi, giving Mr. Yagi one of the driest looks Izuku had ever seen. "Because you heroes are so good about that."

"Teaching isn't exactly strenuous, Naomasa."

"Remind me again how you got injured this time."

Mr. Yagi made a face Izuku would have found hilarious under other circumstances. "That's different," he said, plaintively.

"Is it though?"

Mr. Yagi coughed. "Now, Midoriya, my boy... I'm sure you have things you want to talk about... I think I glimpsed you soaring through the air, earlier. Did you unlock the enhancement aspect of One for All?"

"No," said Izuku. "Not exactly."

"Well," said Mr. Yagi. "That's, hm. Certainly something."

"Sorry," said Izuku.

"You have nothing to apologize for, my boy," said Mr. Yagi, patting his knee. "In fact, it's a good thing that you got Float this time. I'd be at a loss about what to do with Smokescreen or Blackwhip. But I'm fairly familiar with my master's quirk, and, well, there's someone else who I should... get back into contact with..." Mr. Yagi force the words out as if they had physically pained him to say.

Which they might have. He did have the whole... coughing... thing. Maybe he was just trying to hold one back?

"Mr. Yagi? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine."

"Okay, are you sure?" He wasn't sure if he wanted to bring the next part up if Mr. Yagi wasn't feeling well.

"Yes," said Mr. Yagi. "I just, hm. It's just... history."

Izuku nodded. "So, um. Did you hear Monoma say that the mist guy - Kurogiri? - had multiple quirks, too? Like Nomu?"

The mood plummeted.

"Yes," said Tsukauchi. "He told me, and I told Toshinori. It appears that Kurogiri's warp quirk is actually several different quirks working as one. Merged together, almost."

Izuku nodded. "I was just wondering... One for All can be passed on, so... are there other quirks like that? Like, if the first person with One for All had family members or something? Or..." Izuku trailed off. Mr. Yagi now looked actively ill. "Did I say something wrong?"

"Toshinori," said Tsukauchi, "you mean you didn't tell him already?"

"In my defense, I thought he was extremely dead."

"What- Who are you talking about?"

"My boy... I think it's time to tell you a story of two brothers..."

"So, One for All comes with a built in nemesis? Who may be immortal?"

"That- He's not... It would appear so."

"I am somehow both surprised and not."

"There's one more thing I wanted to ask you about before your mother arrives," said Mr. Yagi.

"Please tell me it's not something worse, like me being a descendant of the guy," requested Izuku, picking the worst, most ridiculous thing he could think of.

Tsukauchi snorted, then covered the noise up with a cough.

"I seriously doubt that All for One could maintain a romantic relationship of any kind," said Mr. Yagi, "and even if you were, it wouldn't really matter. I mean, his own brother hated his guts."

"That's a bit extreme..." murmured Yoichi.

"Considering some of the rants we've gotten you to go on," said En, "it really isn't."

"Maybe. Maybe not. But the rest of it-" Yoichi promptly left to harass Second and Third.

"How can you two be so close and yet so far?" mourned Nana. "How are you so smart and so dumb at the same time?"

"In Ninth's defense," said En, "he doesn't know what All for One looks like."

"Surely he knows what his father looks like. He sees his picture almost every day," said Hikage.

"Admittedly, I could have phrased that better, but are you rubbing that in, or are you serious? I've known you for, like, half a century and I still can't tell."

Despite the example being a joke, Izuku felt much better after hearing that.

"But, no, this subject is relatively neutral and nothing so dramatic. I was hoping to get your permission to tell young Aizawa about One for All."

Izuku opened and closed his mouth several times. "H-huh? Why? And why do you want my permission? You don't need my permission."

"One for All is your quirk, now," said Yagi, "and your secret. It's up to you who knows about it. Outside of an emergency, I suppose. As for why in general..." Mr. Yagi sighed. "There are things young Aizawa needs to know about the villains with multiple quirks and All for One. I can't tell you the details right now, but with how One for All is manifesting in you, if he only knows about All for One, it would be very easy for him to make incorrect assumptions."

"Oh," said Izuku. He could certainly see how that could be dangerous. He didn't want his teacher to associate him with a villain like that.

"Also, if he knows what's happening, it will be easier for him to help you," finished Mr. Yagi hopefully.

Izuku thought about it. "I guess that would be alright. But... He's not the only person who'll know about my quirk being weird and All for One, right? I mean, the Hero Commission, at least..."

"To be entirely honest with you, I tell the HPSC as little as possible about All for One and One for All."

"What? Why?" asked Izuku.

"Well-"

"Izuku!"

"Mom!"

"I'll explain later," said All Might quickly.

Kurogiri passed a damp washcloth over the burns on his neck. The metal of his collar was a conductor, and the charge the young man with the electricity quirk had sent through it had been significant. It was only natural for it to get hot, for it to burn.

He should go to the Doctor... Some of the collar's functionality seemed to be damaged. He brushed his mist covered fingers over the cool metal.

Tomura wouldn't tell the Doctor. Kurogiri cared deeply for Tomura, but the young man was certainly shallow and unlikely to realize the extent of Kurogiri's injuries. He was more likely to focus on his own, not insignificant, wounds.

In contrast to those, Kurogiri's paled. He wasn't nearly as important as Tomura, after all.

It should be fine to let his wounds and the collar be. It would do what it was supposed to and protect the vulnerable areas of his body, internal damage or no. He just had to be careful of the burns becoming infected, especially since he couldn't see them.

Sometimes, he wished his body was like it was before...

Kurogiri frowned at the thought even as it faded from his consciousness. He had been created by All for One fully formed. His body had always been like this.

Hadn't it?

Shouta had been in and out of consciousness the past few hours. Apparently he'd never been in serious danger of dying, except from shock, which was just his body being dramatic and didn't count. All his major organs were free of serious damage. He just had to regain his stamina so that Recovery Girl could heal him up, and then he'd be fine.

Unlike Tensei, apparently, who had cracked one of his engines, which needed specialist help and surgery to realign the pieces. Or All Might, who had taken hits to his old injury, and needed to take time off or lose more time from his hero form. Or his students, who hadn't been seriously injured but who were probably traumatized.

The last time he had woken up, though, Hizashi had been there. Now, All Might, Nezu, and Detective Tsukauchi were there.

"Thought I already gave my statement," said Shouta.

"You did," said Tsukauchi.

"We're here to give you more information about the attack, I'm afraid," said Nezu.

"Information I won't like?"

"It can wait until you feel better, of course."

"That's illogical," said Shouta. "The sooner I get the information, the more time I have to process it."

All Might, Yagi, sighed. "Nomu and the portal-using villain both had multiple quirks."

Shouta frowned. "You mean, they had quirks with multiple aspects?"

"No," said Nezu. "As Yagi said, they had multiple quirks. This was confirmed by both the villains' comments and by Monoma, who made contact with the portal villain and was able to copy multiple quirks."

"Kurogiri," said Shouta. "That's what the other one called him. Shigaraki."

Nezu nodded. "Indeed. We weren't sure you had heard that." He tapped his paws together. "What we are about to tell you is classified. We are only sharing it with you because of your unique position and history."

"In the wrong hands, it could cause a lot of damage," said Yagi.

Only two things kept Shouta from leaping out the window and escaping: the fact that he was basically immobilized in plaster casts and the fact that his students were already involved in whatever this was.

"Great. What is it?"

"To begin," said Tsukauchi, "Monoma said he was able to copy three quirks from Kurogiri."

"That's up from what he could do before," observed Shouta. Stress did push quirks to improve, sometimes, although Shouta hated for the improvement to be associated with trauma.

Tsukauchi nodded. "He made note of that as well. He said he picked up a quirk that allowed him to turn his body parts into portals that led to other body parts, a quirk allowed him to temporarily teleport his body parts, and..." he trailed off.

"And a quirk that at the very least bears a strong resemblance to Shirakumo Oboro's Cloud."

"What are you saying?" asked Shouta, ignoring the way his heart had almost stopped.

"At the moment? Only that it is very strange that Kurogiri had a quirk like that, and sent you to the place where Shirakumo Oboro died."

"Oboro would never-"

"We're not saying that," interrupted Yagi. He coughed into his hand. "There's more context. Have you ever heard of the quirk bogeyman?"

"I can't wait to never sleep again I'm my entire life," said Shouta.

"Wait," said Tsukauchi, "it gets worse."

"How could it get worse?"

"Naomasa, you're supposed to be on my side," complained Yagi.

"I am. That's why I'll stop Eraserhead here from trying to kill you after you finish explaining."

"Well, it has to do with young Midoriya's quirk..."

"Let me get this straight, you gave the quirk with an immortal supervillain archenemy attached to a child... and didn't tell him that the supervillain existed."

"When you say it like that, it sounds really bad-"

"It is really bad-!"

"If I'd known he was still alive-"

"What part of immortal do you not understand?"

"Shouta, I, too, believed that All for One-"

"Shut up, Nezu! I don't have the energy to be mad at both of you right now!"

Yagi, Tsukauchi, and Nezu were all shown out by an irate nurse while a different but equally irate nurse replaced the plaster cast on Shouta's arm.

It had definitely been worth it.

Just because school was canceled, that didn't mean training was canceled.

... except it did, both because Inko was too stressed to let Izuku out of the house, and because Mr. Yagi had a meeting to go to about the attack.

But the second day after the attack was a different story!

That morning, Mr. Yagi pulled up in front of Izuku's apartment in Hercules (still so cool!) and picked him up.

Izuku bounced enthusiastically into the car and then froze. "Oh my gosh, what happened to your eye? Was it a villain? How hard did they hit you?" his hands fluttered. "I have some cream-"

"Oh," said Mr. Yagi, "no need, young Midoriya! I, er, sort of deserved it. It's a sort of reminder to take it easy, too. People would be disturbed to see All Might with a black eye, after all!" He smiled, then winced.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, very. You should buckle up, my boy."

"Oh, right," said Izuku. "So, where are we going? You said there was someone you wanted to introduce me to."

"Yes," said Mr. Yagi. "My old teacher. It's been a while since I've seen him. Hopefully he won't make up for lost time with a kick to the face..."

"What?"

"Don't worry about it."

When Mr. Yagi spent most of the way over muttering about kicks to the face and head, Izuku decided that he should, in fact, worry about it.

The broken-down building was not what Izuku had been expecting.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" asked Izuku.

"Absolutely," said Mr. Yagi, who was shaking somewhat. "This Pavlovian response only confirms it."

"Um." The building looked condemned. "Maybe he moved."

"One can only hope," said Mr. Yagi. "Maybe you sh- No. I have to see this through." He steeled himself visibly, squaring shoulders. "Please not a kick to the face," he said, under his breath.

"Is he really that bad?" asked Izuku.

"My boy, I guarantee you that he's worse."

"Poor kid has no idea what's coming," said Banjo. "Although we wouldn't have believed it either if we weren't riding along and watching."

"Nana," said En, "I just want to reiterate that I'm very glad you never thought about giving One for All to Gran Torino."

"Come on. Sorahiko isn't that bad," protested Nana.

"We know," said everyone else, "he's worse."

They walked up to the apartment building door. Mr. Yagi sighed heavily on seeing the door was hanging open, which was a radically different reaction than what Izuku would have expected.

"Is Danger Sense doing anything?"

"I don't think so?"

"Let me know if that changes."

"R-right," said Izuku. Mr. Yagi pushed the door in, and Izuku followed cautiously after him.

They went down a few hallways, peeking in rooms. Then they got to the kitchen, and Izuku covered his mouth with both hands with a gasp at the grisly, bloody scene. Gran Torino laid on the floor in a pool of red liquid. "Oh my gosh, he's-"

At the same time, Mr. Yagi said, "At least it's not a kic-"

The supposedly dead hero was suddenly airborne, and flying towards Mr. Yagi, foot first. Specifically, at his face. "You thou-"

Danger Sense spiked. It was a tiny spike, but still.

Izuku reacted. Specifically, with nerves shot by the USJ attack, he reacted violently, lashing out with a fist, swatting Gran Torino out of the air and back into the puddle of what was, in retrospect, probably diluted ketchup.

For a moment, everything was silent.

"Oh my gosh," wailed Izuku. "I assaulted a senior citizen!"

Gran Torino bounced back to his feet. "I like this kid, Toshinori!"

"I'm... glad?"

"Now show me what you've g-"

"Gran, please, we're only here for quirk help, not battle training."

"What's the difference? You're going to want to use it in battle eventually, right?"

"I mean," said Izuku, hesitantly, feeling like he had whiplash several times over, "yes?"

"See?"

"Just help with controlling Float. Please." Mr. Yagi pressed his hands together. "Please do not pick a quirk fight with a civilian teenager. Please."

"We are on private property."

"Assault is still illegal on private property."

"He's the one who hit me!"

"I know! I'm so sorry," said Izuku, doing his best to bow in the cramped space. "It was a reflex."

"After you attacked me!"

"Yeah, but you knew I was going to do that!"

"That doesn't make it better!"

Gran Torino turned to Izuku. "Kid, I don't know how you did it, but it looks like you made this big softy grow a backbone. Next step is to see if you can get him to do this with Mirai, too."

"Um," said Izuku. "I think he already had a backbone? He's All Might, after all."

"Nah, he's just a giant spindly amoeba who needs to take better care of himself."

Mr. Yagi slumped.

"But back on topic," said Gran Torino, eyes much sharper than before. "Do you really have Nana's quirk, kid?"

"Y-yeah. I think so. It was only a little bit, during the attack, but... yeah."

"Let's see what you can do with it, then."

"Um," said Izuku.

"Gran, maybe you should get cleaned up first? Young Midoriya and I can take care of the kitchen..."

"You don't know how to turn it on, do you?"

"Not really, no," said Izuku.

"We've got our work for today cut out for us, then, don't we, you zygotes?"

Wow. Gran Torino really did call people zygotes.

Wild.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #danger first #danger first au #fic #fanfic

70 notes · View notes

zoraphan · 2 years

Text

anyway, first proper post is (of course) going to be of my new hyperfixation (encanto). [we aren’t going to talk about the fact that this has sat in my drafts since December]

this headcanon kinda stems from how bruno’s predictions about isabela are positive in the song “we don’t talk about bruno”; and, also, how isabela says that mirabel has done nothing but ruin her life.

i’ve seen a lot of posts to the effect of “if bruno picked favourites, it would be mirabel” and i do get those, but, also, bruno canonically left the night mirabel didn’t get her gift. mirabel and camilo were only 5ish/6ish. they didn’t really have the opportunity to have a relationship with bruno (i think this is demonstrated best by how camilo’s part in “we don’t talk about bruno” characterizes bruno as a Literal Boogeyman; and how the entire song is mirabel trying to find out anything she can about bruno). so that leaves luisa (7ish/8ish), dolores (10ish/11ish); and the other main focus of this headcanon, isabela (who was also around 10ish/11ish).

(i also definitely think that after bruno rejoins the family, mirabel is his favourite; but this is focused on the Before Times)

(putting the actual headcanon/meta behind the cut because this is already decently lond and i haven’t even started properly explaining)

TL;DR of the theory brain below: isabela and bruno were very close with each other, and at least part of isabela and mirabel’s strained relationship comes from isabela lowkey blaming mirabel for driving bruno out of the family.

okay, refresher for those of us who do not have the entire encanto script saved to their memory: isabela’s verse in “we don’t talk about bruno” is this:

he told me that the life of my dreams / would be promised and someday be mine / he told me that my power would grow like the grapes that thrive on the vine

(link to exact timestamp: here)

this tells us two things already - bruno very likely knew that isabela was unhappy with being the perfect, golden child; and that bruno most likely predicted isabela’s future more than once. i say that last part because every other character who says bruno predicted something for them only ever mentioned one. pepa and her rainy wedding; the lady with the fish; the guy with the gut; the priest-

-and dolores. dolores gets a separate paragraph because there’s only a few months between her and isabela. while dolores does sing more overall in the song than isabela, she only mentions one prediction bruno made about her future - that the one she loved would be out of reach. so i think the fact that isabela mentions two separate predictions, even though they are the same verse, points to the fact that isabela had bruno predict her future at least twice.

this implies that they were close enough with each other that bruno didn’t terribly mind viewing her future more than once; and that isabela trusted bruno enough to let him, even with his already-poor reputation. yes, it can be argued that abuela had bruno gaze into isabela’s future at least once if not twice; but for the sake of this headcanon i am, in fact, ignoring that.

i think this closeness comes from the first prediction isabel mentions in her verse - the one about the life of her dreams. i think, when bruno first gazed into her future, he saw what she would be at the time (the perfect, golden child we first meet in the film) and what she would eventually be (the isabela from her song “what else can i do”), and which one would be happy/frowning. putting it in the manifestation we see in the movie (specifically the one where mirabel participated, was not just the subject). i think the vision between the two of them would manifest as isabela walking through life, starting from when she first got her powers (when the expectations of perfection really started), getting progressively more hunched and miserable looking until just before she goes through some sort of unseen metamorphosis and comes out the other side looking wilder and less perfect but more happy.

so bruno knows something about isabela the rest of the family doesn’t - that she isn’t happy being the perfect child. and i think that bruno had a lot of experience with failing to meet expectations, and dealing with the fears that come with that. so after that vision, he knocks on isabela’s door that night and just... offers his room as somewhere isabela can just. be. provided she can make it up all the stairs, of course.

(please consider little isabela making an escalator of flowers because she knows her tío doesn’t like the stairs anymore than she does.)

(also just the two of them, lying side by side in the sand at the bottom because they can just afford to exist without expectation in those moments)

and this leads into why isabela hates mirabel so much. i think there would always be some form of conflict, even if bruno had stayed, because mirabel being giftless would put so much more pressure on isabela to be utterly perfect (which we do see in the movie). but to add to it, bruno left, and that left isabela without a safe space to just exist and be her. with no bruno, there was no one left who didn’t expect her to be completely perfect, 100% of the time.

and, in this headcanon, isabela blames mirabel. because bruno left the night mirabel didn’t get a gift, and that makes it her fault that isabela is now without her buffer when she gets tired of trying to be the golden child. this combined with the increased pressure put onto her to be perfect with her gift is what causes isabela to think that mirabel ruined her life - because for 11/12 year old isabela, she did.

#og #txt #encanto #bruno madrigal #isabela madrigal #my headcanons #headcanon #meta #'long post #orange citrus

19 notes · View notes

in-tua-deep · 4 years

Text

SO i watched the old guard and loved it and i have a habit of combining things i love and it’s 1am and i can’t get to sleep until i purge this from my brain i think SO consider this

Five jumps in time into the apocalypse and - he dies. Of course he dies. Maybe it’s the time jump itself, managing to rip himself apart because he tried too much too soon. Maybe it’s the apocalypse itself that kills him. Regardless, he dies.

And then he wakes up. And he’s fine. And he continues on.

Except - he has weird dreams. He dreams of - of all these people? He dreams that they’re in the apocalypse as well. It’s weird. He would brush it off but, well, he keeps dreaming of them. Again. And again. And again.

(He likes dreaming of them, honestly. When he doesn’t dream of them he dreams of ash and fire and his siblings dead and decaying and wailing at him for failing them.)

He continues to live in the apocalypse and years pass and - he’s not getting older. He cuts his leg open on some rocks, and it heals way too quickly. All of his injuries are like that, actually.

(He spends a whole week starving to death over and over again once. It isn’t pretty. He doesn’t even know he’s dying.)

Eventually he comes to a conclusion - his time jump fucked him up. He’s in a permanent... stasis? Sort of? He keeps continuously returning to the state he was when he jumped through time, including his body now? Rejecting injuries? Presumably because he wasn’t injured when he jumped?

It makes sense to Five, shhh.

And then he gets picked up by the commission. and then he doesn’t shoot JFK. and then he goes home.

(He keeps dreaming about His People. They aren’t in the apocalypse when he isn’t, which is nice. They’re probably some weird manifestation of his subconscious, considering his brain keeps casting them as people during the time periods he’s visiting)

Now I know what you’re thinking - Five is dreaming about these glorious weirdos in the apocalypse, obviously they would try to find him because they’re dreaming about him as well, right?

See, the thing is this: Andy doesn’t remember the exact date she first had a dream about The Boy.

(The Boy definitely deserved the capital letters, because he’s the weirdest enigma that they never solved.)

But she remembers her and Quynh being horrified because - the next immortal was a child? They freaked out about it and tried to write everything down they could remember to help them hunt the kid down.

And they tried - they did! for a whole three days! except after those three days the dreams just - stopped. cold. nothing new.

This was, of course, super super confusing. And maybe they would have written it off as a shared hallucination if it didn’t keep happening.

There’s no pattern to when they dream of the kid. It just happens. Sometimes a few times in a year. Sometimes there’s decades or centuries between dreams. The first time Nicky and Joe dream of him, Andy has to sit them down and explain that no, don’t worry about it. Yes she knows that it’s a child. No, he’s not a new immortal. They’ll stop dreaming about him in a few days, a week tops, it’s fine. No, she doesn’t know What The Fuck That Is About.

By the time Nile joins the team it’s sort of a weird inside joke. There’s longstanding bets about when the boy will pop up in their dreams again. It’s fine. Okay, so it’s weird, but their lives are already so goddamn weird.

(So imagine the old guard fresh in the apocalypse, no human life on earth. they’re dreaming about the boy again, and the only weird thing now is the consistency of it. maybe they’re in europe or something, but most of the planes have been destroyed in whatever-the-fuck took out the population of the whole ass world. it might have taken years to literally find and dig each other out of the rubble. yeah it’s weird the boy is not a frequent dream thing, but it’s not like it’s urgent.)

Anyway, Five jumps into his family’s courtyard and stumbles out, and eats and peanut butter and jelly sandwich, avoids questions about his age by rambling about quantum versions of himself, and goes to Griddy’s where he ends up getting attacked by commission goons and having to walk home barefoot because he had to ditch his shoes

(The Commission couldn’t put a tracker in his arm. His body kept rejecting them somehow, thanks to his... weird temporal nonsense. The Handler kept promising him that they’d find a way to fix him or whatever, but they never did. Assholes.)

Now, the Old Guard squad go to sleep and, thank you, start dreaming of Five in all his somewhat feral glory.

They bolt awake and - “You guys owes me so much money.” Nicky crows victoriously, because he totally won the pot on the next kid dream year, thank you very much.

And any other time that would be the end of it, because they’re used to these fleeting dreams of the boy.

Except Nile exists now. And of course she’s like, we have to find this kid.

Of course the others try to explain to her - except Nile points out a very important fact: it might have taken weeks or months or years to find other immortals back in the day due to travel times and lack of information and all that. But it’s 2019 baby. They have the internet and very fast plane travel. Did you have that when Booker was a baby immortal? no. it took them like, a day to go hunt Nile down though.

“You say you dream about him for a few days or a week or whatever.” Nile points out to the group’s dawning realization, “Well we have the power to get to him in a few days. So we can find him.”

“If we find him then we can never bet on him again though.” Booker points out, and Nicky who is in the process of gloating about his latest win (Nicky has won three times in a row motherfuckers) looks a bit crestfallen. Andy, on the other hand, just looks determined.

“Get off your asses.” Nile says firmly, spinning her laptop around and showing them the one (1) result for a “Griddy’s Diner” that she found that matches whatever the fuck the dream showed her, “We’re going to America.”

“Again?” Nicky complains, “I thought we swore to not go to America again for at least a century.”

(Until Nile’s family definitely dies, they don’t say.)

So they all begrudgingly go to America, during which time Five manages to get called potentially insane by his favorite sister, not get any sleep, bribe his brother to investigate an eye that doesn’t exist, and mourn losing his one lead to who the fuck started the apocalypse.

I don’t think Five or the og squad were expecting to actually meet.

But they’re hunting Five down and looking around and Five is pondering his next move and then just - across the street, their eyes meet.

“YOU.” The OG squad bellows, because Five has been a goddamn mystery for literally thousands of years.

“Me?” Five says, very confused, like someone who has definitely had trauma induced hallucinations and flashbacks whose dream characters decided to show up on the street outside his house for some reason.

And they go over to Five, and Five is like “wow what a weird hallucination to be having, maybe if i ignore it it’ll go away because that’s a healthy mindset to have (:”

and then one of them touches him and just -

Five lashes out. It’s instinctive. He has a knife and he just - stabs. Automatically. and his dream person winces and steps back and -

(He stabbed his dream person. Hallucinations don’t touch him they’re not supposed to touch him and they can’t be stabbed what - )

And then the dream person heals before his eyes.

“I probably deserved that.” Booker muses, grimacing at the hole in his new shirt thank you very much.

“You’re not real.” Five says a little too loudly and a little too insistently to sound at all convincing as he takes a step backwards.

“I’m not real? You’re not real!” Nicky butts in, slightly offended, “You’re the one that keeps - keeps vanishing!”

“Oh my god why are you all disasters.” Nile mourns putting her face in her palms as though she can block out her new weird family by sheer force of will.

“Hey, remember when you died?” Andy offers with a shrug which just makes Nile groan louder. “What’s that about? I’m not even shooting him this time.”

“You can’t shoot him, he’s a baby.” Joe gasps, gesturing towards Five’s thirteen-year-old self.

“I’m not a baby!” Five snaps, bristling on autopilot because the rest of his brain function is stuck on a repeat of “what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck”

“Baby boy. Baby.” Nicky backs his husband up, leaning against Joe and smirking.

“Am not!” Five growls, “And give me my knife back!”

“Finder’s keepers.” Booker says nonchalantly, spinning said knife in his fingers, “If you didn’t want me to have it then you shouldn’t have stabbed me with it.”

“It’s my brother’s knife, you can’t have it.” Five argues.

“Booker.” Andy says firmly, making Booker shrink a little like a scolded child, “Give the kid the knife back. How would you feel if I took your gun?”

“You wouldn’t take my gun.” Booker mutters, handing an increasingly confused Five the knife back, “I would simply shoot you.”

“Ooh,” Nicky snickers, “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

“Don’t encourage them.” Joe says, nudging at Nicky. Which would be fine if he hadn’t added in a slightly lower tone that they could all still hear, “Fifty on Andy.”

“That’s a sucker’s bet, my love.” Nicky laughs, pressing a kiss to Joe’s cheek.

There’s a beat of silence.

“No offense, but what the fuck is going on.” Five states rather than asks, clutching his slightly stolen knife (Diego didn’t even notice when he’s snagged it which honestly means he didn’t deserve to keep the weapon) tight to his chest. “Are you guys... with the Commission?”

“What the fuck is the Commission?” Joe does not whisper to Booker, who is supposed to be the research guy but he just shrugs because he’s useless.

Anyway that’s how the whole Old Guard squad winds up in Reginald Hargreeves creepy ass mansion trying to explain to an increasingly erratic immortal child that, yeah, he’s a little bit immortal. No it doesn’t have anything to do with his powers (powers?? powers??????? what the fuck i mean yes their lives are already so goddamn weird but there is a line and Booker draws it at teleportation what the fuck).

What’s this about an apocalypse?

(When they asked Five for his age, they were not expecting a curt ‘fifty-eight, probably’. Yes they are now aware there is funky time travel involved - which honestly explains so much about the frequently vanishing immortal - but still.

He looks baby but also he is baby. He’s younger than Booker!! Not even a century! They have two whole babies on the immortal squad !!)

“The world is going to end on April 1st.” Five explains, looking deeply uncomfortable. And afraid.

(And young. So very terribly young. He’s been thirteen-years-old for a long time. If these people are right - he’s going to remain thirteen until his immortality, what, wears off? Which could be literally thousands of years in the future?

He has family god damnit. He doesn’t want to outlive them. He just - he just wanted to see them again. To save them.)

And honestly why not. Five has already demonstrated teleportation. Time travel does explain his random popping into their lives via dreams. Why not? And let’s be real, they have way much more to lose by not believing him than believing him.

“Alright let’s stop an apocalypse.” Andy says, clapping her hands together.

“You’re going to help?” Five asks in a small voice, because he had sort of resigned himself to going at it alone.

“Give me the number for the eye.” Nile says kindly, “We have someone we could contact about that sort of thing, or at the very least who can keep an eye out for when it is manufactured and let us know.”

(RIP Copley when he realizes he has to deal with anything involving the Umbrella Academy. I am sure they were a very deep thorn in the governments side for a long time tbh)

“Who The Fuck Are All These People In Our Living Room.” Luther asks, Very Loudly, with Allison close behind.

And yeah. No one really knows how the fuck to answer that, let’s be real. What are they supposed to say? Hey, sorry for crashing, we’re here to lowkey kidnap your newly re-found brother because surprise! he’s immortal! Because that would go over so well.

Anyway, so the Old Guard squad are just there like,, trying to teach Five about his newfound immortality (at least he’s got good at the whole “fuck cameras” thing during his stint in the commission, though admittedly there were plenty of mission from pre-camera times. ah, the age before technology.) and also adopt him? because being immortal means family and family means no one gets left behind (or forgotten, hello Quynh)

(okay yeah they tried to put Booker in time out that one time but after a few years they were just sad and everyone was texting him anyway so now it’s just something they bring up at every opportunity. Joe wants the first turn in the bathroom? Booker, you betrayed him. He was a lab rat, Booker. And on and on until Booker throws up his hands and gives in. Yes, fine, you can have the bathroom first.)

And the Umbrella Academy usually would leave Five to his own devices but... look. Five might have vanished for seventeen years or whatever but he’s still their brother and they can be surprisingly territorial.

At least some people are getting along like a house on fire.

(“You were a crusader?” Klaus asks with wide eyes, “How does that even work?”

“What, being gay?” Nicky asks, tilting his head, “It’s fine. I have a permit.”

“A permit.”

“Mmhmm. From the Pope and everything.”

“I kind of want to be you when I grow up.”)

I can’t tell if things would go more smoothly or if the fuck ups would be even more epic in proportion. On the bright side, the apocalypse probably wouldn’t happen because Andy and Nile immediately clock Leonard-Harold’s serial killer vibes.

(Leonard realizes they’re onto him and tries to kill them which is a big mistake lmao, bye bye Leonard)

It probably ends up in an all out war against the Commission honestly, and the OG squad and the Umbrella Academy teaming up to destroy it.

(“How is this even going to work?” Allison asks at one point, gesturing at Five and the old guard.

“Shared custody?” Joe suggests brightly before doubling over because Five has pointy elbows and is not afraid to use them.)

Andy and Five probably go feral together at one point and it sure is something to behold.

“Now that is a kid who understand what a signal is.” Booker admires after a particularly large explosion happens. Nile just nods along because yeah.

(“How come you guys get to call Five a kid without being stabbed?” Klaus complains.

“He isn’t even a century old. I’m 250 and I was the youngest until Nile popped up.” Booker shrugs.

“We’re in our 950s.” Nicky says, “If little Cinque does not want to be called a kid he should have been born earlier.”

“How old is hot axe woman?” Klaus asks, absolutely enraptured.

They OG squad all exchange a look and just collectively shrug, “Old as balls.”

“Besides,” Booker says dismissively, “What’s he going to do about it? Kill us?”

and that ends that conversation)

(They also don’t discuss how young Five is. How young he was when he died. How that’s going to effect him all his life. How he’s going to be old in years, but he’s always going to be thirteen in the same way that Nile is stuck in her 20s. Sometimes it seems like the immortals are getting younger and younger in age and... it sucks.)

anyway just. Old Guard and Umbrella Academy shenanigans as they stop the apocalypse and try to look after the semi-feral teenager they have been saddled with and figure out what comes next

#far tua long #long post #tog/tua crossover #and then klaus died and wakes up and andy throws her hand up #'THREE? IN LIKE ONE DECADE?' she demands #STOP BEING IMMORTAL #quynh arrives and she and five probably get along like a house on fire tbh #five: yeah being horrifically alone and somewhat frequently dying kind of sucked now that i think about it #quynh: hmm. my child now.#granted quynh's experience was like. horrifically worse? in it's own way?#five's was nothing to sneeze at but daMN QUYNH #who knows maybe the umbrella academy are who finds quynh #they have money #why not go on a captain america esque search for a random immortal in the ocean #they found steve rogers eventually they might as well find quynh amiright #five wants to stay with him family but also like #his family aren't exactly road tripping together and singing songs around the fireplace #they have their own lives #nicky holding up five: bastard #nile: NO #joe: bastard baby. brat boy.#nile: NOO #the old guard are a disaster family and you can pry that from my cold dead hands #anyway it's 1am so have this #andy: hey copley we have a new immortal for you to erase the tracks of #booker wants to be relieved he is DEFINITELY no longer that baby of the family with TWO whole babier immortals #but let's be real he still totally is #joe: FIVE never betrayed us #booker: five would literally sell you to satan for one cornchip #booker: please stop bringing that up at every opportunity

1K notes · View notes