#What else can you do when the world is on mass shut down?

[unbidden-yidden]

I have gotten so many messages from folks who see what's happening to Jews right now, how literally any statement from us that isn't straight up "death to Israel!" "tear it down!" "river to the sea!" etc. - no matter how tempered in other ways or critical of the Israeli government it is - anything even mildly supportive of the terrorism victims/their families in their grief and/or Israelis deserving to live is getting dog piled to an absurd degree. And yes, that primarily targets Jews (because we're the ones primarily speaking on it) but it definitely is also hitting anyone not Jewish who says this as well. Immediately, overnight, the left has made any position that respects everyone's human rights and allows Jews room to grieve our murdered and missing family and friends without telling us they deserved to die in terrible ways completely radioactive. Like literally even the most milquetoaste statement attracts numerous hysterical commentators. And because it's so toxic, people are afraid to speak up.

And I've now heard from a lot of gentiles that they had no idea how deep the rot of leftist antisemitism went, how they've been seeing this unfold with horror, and are afraid to speak up.

Here's what I'll say: those messages give me a lot of strength, because they help me remember that I'm not insane, that this is horrendous, and we are seeing in real time exactly who would have helped the Gestapo find us if they were sufficiently convinced that this is "decolonization." That yes, the backlash really *is* that bad. I hear that affirmation and I appreciate it, and I understand your fear, because it was mine too. I myself strongly considered at the beginning not saying anything about this until I could do so without being harassed. (I decided against that because I am physically incapable of shutting up when it pertains to my people, but I understand the sentiment.)

Here's the thing: this is never going to end - those people who take seriously the question "are Jews people?" are going to be the vocal minority unless and until we all speak out. Jews are 2% of the US population and 0.2% of the world's population - there are literally more self-identified Nazis in America than there are Jews. I would honestly be surprised if there weren't more horseshoe theory leftists in the world than Jews also.

That being the case, we really do need our allies to speak up with us. I think if we all spoke up at once, it might be enough to break the silence-taken-as-agreement and shame everyone but the avowed antisemites (rather than the thoughtless and opportunistic ones) back into keeping their antisemitism under wraps. Which does have the effect of bringing the mob under control. Jews have faced a ton of mob violence in the form of pogroms throughout our history and backlash to Jewish victimhood. (Tl;dr - "How dare you make me consider how I might have benefited from or been complicit in hurting Jews? This is actually the fault of the Jews." is a disturbingly common thought process.) (You may also be wondering what I mean by "opportunistic;" I can explain in another post if people are interested.)

I know it's scary. I am well aware that you might lose friends from this. I personally decided that if those "friends" valued Jewish lives so little, they were never my friends to begin with, but it's different for non-Jews. They may genuinely be your friends. I'm not demanding you do this for me or my community, but I am asking you to consider what your line is for your friends. And if you are able to talk to them, to ask them what makes this group different from all other groups in terms of deserving compassion and human rights, it may just help us to quiet the mob.

And, if nothing else, just privately reminding those of us who are speaking about it that we are grounded in reality and compassion helps combat the mass gaslighting going on.

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

Helloo!

Idk if you take requests , but could you maybe write a fic with Human!Alastor and male!reader where reader exaggerates his whole personality to comply with everyone else and is easily exhausted from it and Alastor "relaxses" reader in that way ?

Thank you in advance and have a good day !

Alastor - [ MASQUERADE ]

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A/N: This request really made me brainstorm but I've decided to break it into 2 parts. I hope you'll enjoy it! As always kindly lmk the artist of the fanart so I can tag them and give proper credit! ❤️

WARNINGS: [ SLIGHT NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ SUGGESTIVE THEMES ] + [ MALE READER ] + [ FLUFF…if you squint ]

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“You're on air in ten minutes, Y/n. Pick it up before the host gets restless!”

Your so-called manager barked from the dressing room doorway, giving one last glare your way before strutting off, grumbling a string of curses you'd learned to ignore.

“Asshole…” you scoffed, turning back to the striped mirror of your vanity; the large bulbs that lit it gave enough light in the old stuffy backstage space, illuminating every detail of your appearance.

Not one thing could be out of place.

You wouldn't allow it, committed to your role as a rising preformer in the golden age of the stage, and conditioned to perfectionist standards from years of tribulations

Suffering behind a practiced smile won you your stardom. The ambiguous beauty you possessed helped immensely in your success on the silver screen, but the truest contributor to your fame was appeal.

Humourous, intellectual, but most crucial, sex appeal.

That's what kept your admires enthralled, permanently put you in the limelight from the start, and inevitably earned you considerable amounts of money.

You weren't opposed to being called a child of Dionysus himself, envied by those who wanted you. Still, the burden of putting on a show for everyone every day without giving them a glimpse of your faults was excruciating.

Yet, you chose the burden over sulking in the darkness, remaining among the ordinary when you so clearly had the makings of a star, and your status of high popularity among the masses was proof of it.

So be it if your cheeks ached from smiling at frivolous fans that your laugh sounded less like your own the more you forced it, that flirtations of others felt like empty praises, or that every project you agreed to felt less and less stimulating.

So fucking be it.

Fame is fickle; you knew this all too well, but your existence felt meaningless without it.

Empty.

All the world's riches, the undivided favor you garnered from the public, and the sparkling awards cluttered your penthouse display shelves…

Even with all that at your fingertips, you had yet to feel seen…

Seen and truly adored.

“Two fucking minutes! Get your ass in position. This interview is being broadcast live, remember?” your manager harped at you from the hall, causing you to grunt in frustration before yelling back, “Would you shut your trap?! Fucking hell…I'm coming!”

You set aside the whiskey glass in your left hand, ran your right through your recently styled hair, and checked your reflection one last time.

“It's only a radio show. One little interview and you can go home and get black-out drunk…” the idea of spending some much-deserved time alone after running around doing a press tour brought a sad smile to your face as you stood and exited the dim room.

This would be your last stop, an interview with Louisiana’s prided radio host, and the last person you'd need to put a show on for before returning home.

“Finally…” your manager grumbled as you stepped into the hall, giving you a once over as the two of you strolled down the hall towards the host recording area, “Don't fuck this up. People say this ones a real talker and can make or break ya..” he mumbled begrudgingly.

You paid his incessant pestering no mind, flashing him a suave smile as you both stopped before a heavy door, “Don't tell me you're starting to care about my reputation now? Thought you only saw me as a nice money grab…”

Your smile grew as laughter bubled in your chest, seeing the other slowly become agitated at your backhanded comments.

“Why, you little-”

“Oh, don't be rude, sir. You'll spoil my good mood, and god knows sour spirits bring bad luck,” you smirked, enjoying the scrunch of his nose as his expression reflected his true nature, but before he could snap, you pushed the door open and slipped into the soundproofed station room.

What a fucking pain he is…

You cursed the raging man outside, sighing softly as the sound of jazz lingered through the air and the smell of freshly brewed coffee mixed with a distinct cologne engulfed you.

The space felt and looked inviting, relaxing even, but what caught your attention was the man who occupied it.

He sat in a desk chair across the small room, facing a table full of controls and a mic to match. His face was lowered from the device, glasses resting comfortably on the bridge of his nose as he stared at what you assumed was a script for your conversation with him, but the simmering amazement overtook your curiosity about the paper he held you felt hearing him hum along to the song he was airing.

You didn't dare move an inch closer, satisfied with watching and listening to him from afar, oddly entrapped by the silent allure he cast.

It was no mystery that people loved the sound of his voice. You'd be fooling yourself if you said you hadn't found his commentary enchanting, but looking at him in the flesh, you were sure he'd flourish on the silver screen like no other.

He could indeed win the eyes of many…

Yours especially, and to some degree, he had already, but you hesitated to admit it even as he turned to face you.

Oh…. he is a beauty, that's for sure…

That was the singular thought in your mind as he smiled, standing from his seat before approaching you with all the confidence you'd merely portrayed.

“Hello there. You must be Y/n L/n. I'm Alastor Hartifelt. It's a pleasure to meet you, my friend!”

His voice was as smooth, melting into the background melodies inexplicably, and your heart lightened immensely as he held out a hand for you to shake.

“The..the pleasure is all mine, Mr. Hartifelt..” you inwardly scolded your delayed greeting, losing track of your practiced charm relatively quickly in his grasp. Still, in seconds, you recovered from the blunder while returning his smile.

Alastor took you in with a glance up and down your figure, cataloging every detail of your appearance out of habit, but when his gaze met yours, one thought crossed his perceptive mind.

Longing?

How curious…

You hid the familiar emotion well; seeing past the veil of contentment wasn't tricky, and though he was tempted to bring it forth.

You two shook hands briefly but firmly. Alastor stepped back, gliding his hand out to mention towards the recording station. “Come, have a seat, and please call me Alastor. We will be on air after all; formalities aren't necessary for an engaging broadcast.” His smile grew, emitting an unearthly kindness as you nodded in understanding before sitting in the chair opposite his.

“You make an excellent point, Alastor. I hope we enjoy each other's company.” You chuckle softly, feeling a tad nervous for a reason unknown but genuinely harboring a rise in excitement, hearing him respond promptly.

“I have no doubt we will…” Alastor muses more to himself, a delicate edge to his voice as he trailed behind you, and a certain twinge of intrigue rattled your spine at the implication.

For the first time in a long time, you weren't dreading the inclinations of your fame, gradually succumbing to the sparks of joy Alastor evoked with the most straightforward words and becoming surer of the fact as he took his seat next to you.

“Shall we begin?” he implies cheekily, and you reply in a quick, witty fashion, “We shall.”

————-

“Care for a drink, my friend? I believe we’ve earned ourselves a cold glass of whiskey… that is, If your evening is unreserved.” Alastor made the offer moments after switching your respective microphones off, quickly arranging the recording panel to a specific setting as he listened for your response.

Your mouth moved quicker than your mind; a distinct rush overtook at the thought of spending more time with the charismatic radio host, “I'd be delighted to join you. I must agree that our interview went quite well. It's rare to have an easy conversation with a stranger these days..”

Alastor raised a brow, sparing you a glance as he finished sliding keys and flicking switches into place to keep a calming stream of music lingering in his broadcast, “So, I'm still a stranger to you?… My, and I thought we were getting on so well…“

He spurs you casually, an air of hurt in his expression, and it stuns you, causing a red hue to rise on your cheeks, “Th-that's not at all what I meant, Alastor…” Your lower head twinges of embarrassment staining your consciousness, and for the third time that evening, Alastor had chipped away at your charm.

He enjoyed it….

Seeing you falter and conform to his standards, though you didn't need to, at any time, you could've remained indifferent to him and taken your leave the moment he shut your mic off, but you remained.

Solely because you'd grown attached to him or the defect he had on you.

Humbling, genuine understanding, but above all else, validation.

“My dear, I am only poking fun. I take no offense to your words, and I hope you'll grant me the same courtesy!” Alastor reached for you, thumb and forefinger slipping under your chin to lift it, and you obeyed his gesture with a soft smile. “Oh…I…”

You paused, swallowing thickly as he raised himself from the chair, head lowered toward yours as he stood above you.

Had he always been so tall?

So brooding?

You weren't entirely sure, but your heart raced, every nerve in your body tingled with anticipation as if you were a deer caught in his headlights, but you couldn't retreat or evade him.

“You what?..” Alastor cooed quietly, chocolate eyes on fire with an emotion you'd long forgotten but returned subconsciously.

Control.

You needed to be back in control, or the next breath between you two might lead to something…

Your mind played scenario after scenario, beginning to short circuit as he peered down at you, lips only inches from yours, and his other hand reaching to caress your cheek. His touch is searing, warmer than those you'd felt before, intentional, and your entire being buzzed in his grasp as if in a drunken stupor.

He was dangerous… able to tear through your facade easily, which was terrifying.

Polarizing.

Don't let him get any closer…

Keep him at a distance…

You've only just met him...

Warnings rang in your head, but your eyes lowered to his lips, and your voice remained quiet as you responded to his question.

“I" 'd like to have that drink before the night ends. Wouldn't you?"With a gentle nudge of your head and a soft laugh, you draw away from Alastor's touch. The space between you increases, and the ability to breathe becomes less strenuous as you stand to your feet, collecting your overcoat before slipping it on, "I'm not familiar with the city yet, so I'll leave it to you to show me around." The chipper in your tone amuses Alastor; you'd perfected the art of illusion so well that in the clutches of what some might consider an intimate moment, you balked and reclaimed sensibility like it never occurred, though you wished for it to carry on further.

He'd met and spoken to his fair share of actors, learned their ticks and telling habits, and used it against them when he saw benefit in toying with them.

However, being able to see right through you evoked another motive for the host, and he dared to think it was mutual.

"Well, I'd be honored to show you the ins and outs of this lively town I call home so long as you promise to keep up," Alastor retrieves his coat, a heavy jet black trench withered accents paired with matching hat, stylish in all the right ways -presumably warm to be in. Still, you were sure if he ventured into the night dressed like that, any stranger would fear him.

They had good reason to, but you didn't need to know why.

Not yet…

With a coy smile, you followed Alastor out of the station, matching his strides as he paved the way to a nearby speakeasy, "You'll find it quite entertaining, my friend. Few visit at this hour, but my dear Mimzy puts on a vine show regardless!" Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of Alastor being infatuated with another, for what reason you weren't sure, but your disappointment flashed clear in your eyes that he took it upon himself to clarify his remark.

"She is an old and loyal acquaintance. Nothing more. Nothing less."

You perked up at the explanation, face burning with a blush as you raised both hands to dissuade his interpretation of your expression, "I understand. You needn't explain anything to me-"

Alastor halted in his tracks, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he peered at you curiously, "Hm, so you did assume we were something to begin with?..."

Shit, was I that obvious?...

"Not at all..." you lie, as calm as ever but internally conflicted.

How could he go about messing with you so boldly?..

And why did it excite you?..

"Your eyes say otherwise, my friend..." he counters your nervous reply with a smug smirk, beginning to walk off as if he wasn't toying with your head, "My eyes?..." you whisper in response.

"They are the doorway to the soul...I've learned to walk through said doors, and you, my dear, hide a lot of fears behind them." Alastor chuckles, ears tingling as you reclaim your spot at his upon reaching your destination. Still, you're less concerned with the dark alley lit with a singular neon sign situated above a heavy lead door and more worried about what he is implying regarding your emotions.

Who was he to know anything?

Sure, he was pleasant to be around, an avid intellectual with a knack for continuing conversation with you, and you had no reason to believe he'd been faking his friendliness to you from the start...

That still gave him no right analyzing you, prod at your exterior with more confidence than necessary, and you intended to let him know it.

A glare beset your expression, mouth open to speak, but you weren't allowed to do so as the lead door swung open.

Alastor guided you close to his side as a gaggle of patrons spilled from the doorway, ranting and raving about the time they had inside. Their rowdy behavior irked him, but you did not comment on the matter as he placed a hand on your back to lead you inside after their dysfunctional departure.

“Drunken idiots,” he mumbled begrudgingly, and for the first time you'd seen the radio host truly bothered. He'd been so composed during your interview, inviting and flirtatious on and off the air, so getting a glimpse of his annoyed state felt like a treat.

At least you knew he had flaws, insignificant but telling ones.

“Um. Alastor, you can..” you paused, unsure if you wanted to let him know he was still holding onto your waist as he led you inside the dim speakeasy. Alastor hummed, irritation gone, and his coy smile widening as you shuffled alongside him. “Y-you can let me go now.”

“Oh, nonsense, my dear! I wouldn't want you to run into unsavory characters like the ones that just passed..”

He quickly navigated the lingering crowd, clearly familiar with the club's layout, and you marbled at its unique atmosphere as he led you through it. “I can handle myself, Alastor,” you tried again to reason, but Alastor was quick to give a response as he ushered you to sit at an unoccupied lounge chair complete with a table and lamp.

“I'm sure you can but I'm rather fond of keeping you close.” He sat next to you after setting his coat and hat aside.

What did he mean by that?..

“How selfish of you,” you feigned disappointment as he shifted to face you with a soft chuckle leaving his lips, “Would you be so kind as to forgive my greed for your attention?” Alastor stares you down, noting how you bite your lip, another nervous tick you'd yet to disregard in his presence. “I'll consider it if you buy me a drink or two..”

The suggestion was meant to sound confident, unmothered by the mounting pressure in your chest, but it came out breathless. You were sure that you'd mastered the art of indiffenece, permanently established a mask of charm, but as much as you wished to maintain the certainty…

Alastair disproved it with little more than a gesture or equally compelling word.

It was unsettling, intoxicating too, but undeniably riveting.

“A small price to pay,” he mumbled, eyes lowering to your lips as you laughed softly and leaned back to admire the other patrons roaming or dancing around. “I never said I was cheap..” you taste him, gaze drifting to him as he shifted closer. You wanted to jump out of your skin as his arm came to rest behind you, head lulling to ward your cheek as he breathed into your ear. The resulting warmth made you shiver, quickening your breaths, and your body tingled with intrigue.

“No…” Alastor affirmed your jest, free hand raising your chin, tilting your head to face him as he continued, “…but you are desperate to be loved. One might say that's just as inappropriate, mon Cher..”

His tone dripped with condensation, a sensual purr loud enough to drown out the jazz and chatter surrounding you, and for a moment, he was all you could comprehend.

You should've felt angry, unsettled even, but his words struck a more profound emotion.

Comfort.

You weren't crazy, a constant wonder for the masses to marvel at and never care about.

Alastor could see you.

He wanted to…

“And so what if I am? Why would it concern you?..” there was no harsh undertone to your question, and it earned a sultry hum of amusement from him. “You've interested me, so I must not ignore your charade. I'm partial to the truth of a person, and you, my dear, abandon it in the hopes of success..”

Spot on.

It is shamelessly hurtful but direct nonetheless.

You clicked your tongue dismissively, attempting to turn your head away from his grasp, but Alastor held you tighter.

A glare crossed your face at the brushing grip he established, but a pool of excitement rushed to your crotch as well.

“I'm not one of your scripts to read, Alastor..” you scoff, rolling your eyes to make your point clear, but he isn't affected by the arrogant gesture.

“My apologies if it seems that way, but my intention to know you, inside and out, is purely innocent...”

“I find that hard to believe…” you retort, very aware of the minimal space between you two, and it became harder to focus on anything else but his soft lips that were stretched thin into a smile.

God, I was doomed from the beginning… you think to yourself as you laugh at your shameless line of sight. “Believe what you wish, my friend, but I enjoy being the object of affection..”

“That's inappropriate to suggest,” you mutter, face burning with blush and your hands raising to grip his wrist and collar. Alastor hummed, amused by your denial, “Mm, I suppose it is…would you like another apology?”

You shake your head, tugging him in by the collar of his shirt, eyes lifting to his, full of determination, “A kiss will do just fine…”

He holds your gaze, checking for mockery, but there is none. “That's the first honest thing you've said all night, mon cher,” Alastor points out in a hushed tone, lowering his head to place a slow kiss on your lips as they pull into a satisfied smile.

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I rewatched Heartstopper for this. Was it helpful? Yes. Did it make me cry harder than the first time I watched it? Also, yes. Will I forever love that show?… (yes). Again, this is just part 1! The second half is being drafted. Please look forward to it. I'm not sure it'll include smut…but I'll debate on that later.

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

He's so cheekyyyy but I love him for it hehe like he’s just the right amount of ‘cocky asshole’ ya know? ❤️ credit to creator!

#alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #human alastor #alastor hartfelt #alastor headcanons #alastor fluff #hazbin hotel headcanon #alastor smut #hazbin alastor #alastor x oc #alastor x reader #alastor x male reader #alastor the radio demon #the radio demon #alastor x you #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel mimzy #hard thoughts #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel fandom #fanfic writing #fanfic #male reader

[call-me-copycat]

I don’t know if this is your request box can you do Aizawa with student reader prompt 4 I believe ( what are you doing out of bed )

Hello and thank you for your request! Yes, this is my ask box, so if you ever want to request again then you can come here again ദി ᷇ᵕ ᷆ )

I'm sorry for the delay! Something got moved dates, so I was a bit busy yesterday. The good news is I now have a job ୧꒰*´꒳`*꒱૭✧

Thank you for being here! I hope you enjoy!

Request For My Writing Event! (It's still open!)

Slot Chosen: Pick-A-Prompt 2

#4: "You better have a really good reason for being out of bed"

➜ CHARACTERS:

- Aizawa & Student! Reader (GN + Platonic)

- Uraraka and Momo (briefly)

➜ WORD COUNT: 2080

➜ GENRE(S): Just fluff, maybe comfort as well

➜ WARNINGS: None :⁠-⁠)

It was dark.

That was all you saw as you laid in bed, mind refusing to shut off despite how much you craved sleep.

You didn't know the current time, but you withheld from checking your phone out of fear that you'd wake yourself up even more when doing so. The rain was gently cascading down outside, the sounds helping to lure you into a false sense of relaxation.

You didn't know how long you stayed like that. Still and quiet, waiting with baited breath as you eagerly tried to get sleep to come to you. Your blanket was too hot, so you took it off. Then you were too cold, so you put it back on. The fabric was folded too uncomfortably underneath you, and as much as you tried to ignore the feeling, it clung to your mind.

Time felt like a thick jelly to you. A world where everyone was unconscious, unaware, and at peace. All except you, that is.

Sighing, you got up to go to the bathroom, rubbing your arms when the cold air stung your skin that was warm with sweat from the blanket. You didn't even need to go, simply tired of dealing with the uncomfortable tossing and turning in your bed.

Splashing some water on your face and drying it off, you debated on just getting up for the day. If you were going to stay awake, you might as well be productive, right? But then again... You'd be too tired and sluggish to keep up with training if you went without sleep.

A groan of agitation escaped you, and for a brief moment you angrily wondered why your mind rejected all forms of sleep no matter how hard you tried to rebut it.

All that answered back was the quiet pattering of rain hitting your window. Heading over to look outside the window gave a view of the courtyard from your dorm room. The sky was lighting up slightly, but so insignificantly that you debated with yourself on whether or not that was the sun beginning to rise, or the lights from the school. You could see the puddles of water that dotted the ground, shimmering from the lights on the outside of the dorms that always stayed on.

The cool air was no longer that much of an issue to you, and so you took it upon yourself to head downstairs to the common room. Why? Because as soon as you looked towards your bed you cringed, with the mass of the messed up blanket being the last place you wanted to be.

The hallways were silent, and dark. So quiet that you could hear your footsteps and breath if you so wished. The only light came from the small nightlights that lit up whenever you walked by, with their sole purpose being to aid students throughout the dark without them waking everyone else up.

The large windows and dark ends of the hallways felt ominous, as if you were walking through an opposite dimension, one that mimicked the world you lived in. As you passed by the doors, you briefly thought about each of your classmates that resided behind them, possibly at peace with their own sleep.

You wondered if this was how Aizawa felt each time he came through to do random checks in order to assure everyone was in bed. The hallways suddenly felt so much lonelier.

As you delicately hopped down the stairs in an attempt to physically tire yourself out, a thought crossed your mind. You had no clue what time it was. You didn't even know if you were allowed to be up this early.

Shrugging it off, the thought of the too-warm bed and too-cold bedroom pushed you farther down the stairs.

The common room was just as silent, the atmosphere feeling dead without the numerous faces and voices that normally filled it each time you passed by. It was just as dark, but the moon softly lit up certain areas of the room - just enough for you to barely make out a dark figure sitting on the couches.

Your breath hitched as your heart skipped a beat, the silent air carrying the sound all the way to the person and causing them to turn around. You calmed when you came face-to-face with Aizawa, your home room teacher. However, panic flared inside you once again at the way his eyes squinted as he looked at you with an expression of irritation. You suddenly remembered your earlier thought, and realized that you probably weren't supposed to be down so late (or early?).

"You better have a really good reason for being out of bed"

His voice brought you out of your foggy mind, sort of waking you up from your internal slumber that was always there. Freezing in place, your eyes widened as you realized that no, you didn't have a good reason for being there. You couldn't sleep? No, he wouldn't take that excuse. You knew you'd be hearing a great deal from him, some kind of lecture at the very least.

"I... " You didn't know how to phrase it. Exhaustion clung to your mind, and suddenly you found yourself much rather wanting to deal with a stuffy bed than standing there, in the cold, dark room, facing your upset teacher and about to be lectured.

"I couldn't sleep." Deciding to get it out of the way, you stated the truth quite bluntly. If you were to be punished, at least you'd be awake for it. Hopefully it'd tire you out just enough to fall asleep the next night.

Aizawa was no fool. He knew what it was like to deal with insomnia, since he suffered from it himself. That was the very reason he was awake at 3 in the morning, sitting on the common room couch and grading papers.

When he heard the sound of a series of footsteps behind him, he thought he was hearing things. Yet, he couldn't ignore the sound of a startled intake of breath. Someone was behind him. Turning around and seeing you was certainly a surprise.

He could see the dark circles under your eyes. The tiredness that seemed to fill your expression. The way you sleepily held your arms close to yourself as the cold air nipped at your skin. It reminded him of himself when he was younger.

It was silent for a second, the rain being the only sound between the two of you.

Then, without saying a word, he put down his clipboard and motioned you to come closer. You gulped, dreading any upcoming lecture. It definitely wasn't something you were in the mood for.

When he lectured, he could go on for a while if he so wished. You remembered the time he scolded you for half an hour in the snow, upset that you didn't do your duty of shoveling a path to the dorm. You were wearing your school uniform, definitely not fit for such weather, but he couldn't care less.

"Have you gotten any sleep at all tonight?"

A surprise to you, that's what that certainly was. You hadn't expected him to care so much, but in hindsight it made sense - he was your teacher after all. It was only natural for him to care about his students' health and well-being.

Shaking your head no, he sighed. He knew the feeling all too well.

"Do you think you can fall asleep at all right now?"

"I don't know." was your reply. You really didn't know. If sleep came to you, then you'd welcome it with open arms. But at the moment, you were much too awake to do so.

Grabbing the clipboard once again, he offered to you without even looking up, "You can stay down here with me if you want. I don't want you wandering the halls alone."

Hesitantly, you looked at him in order to ensure he wasn't lying. Upon him motioning for you to take a seat beside him on the couch, you did so with relief; you weren't in trouble. That much was known.

After a few minutes of watching him flip through a stack of papers to grade while you zoned out, he stood up and made his way to the kitchen, simply giving you an order to "stay put".

While he was gone, you closed your eyes and leaned back against the couch. The cool air made it difficult to relax as you kept shivering, so you reopened them again to see Aizawa coming back, a single cup of something in his hands.

He gestured for you to take the cup from him as he sat down.

"It's chamomile. It's supposed to help you sleep, but if it doesn't then at the very least it'll help you relax."

That was all he said as he turned and started silently grading the papers again. Looking over, you noticed that in his mug he didn't have coffee like he usually did, but rather it was also chamomile as well. You could only wonder if he struggled with sleep as well. The thought was something new, and in a way it made Aizawa feel more human to you. The idea of your teacher having struggles just as you could only help provide a more detailed image of him in your mind

Over the hour, you sipped your tea and watched Aizawa grade his papers beside you. With no way to tell the time, you felt at ease; normally being in such a rush was caused by the lack of time. The fear of being late to class, or to lunch, or missing curfew always weighed heavily on your mind. It felt nice to let that go for once.

You realized that Aizawa must've really known what he was doing, seeing that once you finished the tea you began to feel the tiniest bits of sleep beginning to greet your exhausted mind. However, it still didn't come as you had hoped it would.

A sigh once again escaped you, the built up fatigue and desperation draining all the energy you had left.

You were caught off guard, however, by a strong hand softly pushing your head down. To your surprise, Aizawa had laid your head on his lap. You didn't argue, simply enjoying the warmth he brought against the cold air that chilled you so.

You didn't know how long you stayed like that, resting your head against his lap. It was unusual, as you weren't used to your teacher being so... touch-feely?

What you didn't know was that wherever Aizawa was younger, his mother always helped him fall asleep that very same way. He didn't know if it'd even work, but he still decided to try anyway as it seemed to always work like a charm on him as a kid.

No matter how out of character it was, you had to admit it was soothing. The warm tea, the gentle rainfall... If you didn't fall asleep soon you decided that there had to be something wrong somewhere.

You didn't know how much time had passed. But you did know that when you were opening your eyes you were met with bright sunshine.

Blinking, you sat up and realized that Aizawa wasn't anywhere in sight. What you did see was your classmates, calmly chattering amongst themselves in the common room beside you. You could see that they were trying to be quiet, and you understood that they probably saw you asleep.

The room was a bit darker than usual, the cloudy sky covering up most of the sun. Still, you wondered what time it was since you all had school that day.

"Ah, good morning [Name]! Did you sleep well?"

Looking up, you saw Momo and Uraraka smiling down at you, with Momo being the one to greet you.

Uraraka grinned and pumped her hands in the air excitedly, speaking before you could answer Momo.

"Did you hear? Aizawa Sensei said that since it's been raining all day today we could have a day off! Isn't that so cool?!" She's cheered.

Your eyes widened. He couldn't have...?

You thought back to the early morning, and looking up at the hanging clock (now being able to actually see it), you saw that it was nearly 11am. You had slept in that long?

Turning to the two, you smiled.

"Yeah... I did sleep pretty well last night. How about you?"

This one was heavily inspired by my sudden insomnia. I'm very tired but can't go to sleep for the life of me ( ⌯᷄ ·̫ ⌯᷅ก )

I hope you enjoyed! Please have a lovely day (　ﾟᵕﾟ)

2023年/09月/08日

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #aizawa bnha #shota aizawa #aizawa shouta #aizawa sensei #aizawa comfort #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa x reader #bnha aizawa #mha aizawa #my hero academia aizawa #shouta aizawa x reader #mha shota aizawa #aizawa shota #aizawa shota x reader #shouta aizawa #bnha shouta aizawa #aizawa shōta #momo yaoyozoru #momo yaoyorozu #mha uraraka #ochaco uraraka #uraraka ochako #bnha uraraka #ochako uraraka #uraraka ochacho #copycat writes

[musings-of-a-rose]

I've been a Joel supporter since the game came out and after watching that episode, and especially now that I've become a mom since the game, I still stand firm in my choice to support what Joel did.

For those saying "But he lied to Ellie!" - yeah. He did. But you know who else did? The Fireflies. Marlene. She even had the balls to say to Joel "You're not giving her the choice because you know what she'd choose." Implying that she would choose to be operated on. But you know what? She didn't give Ellie a choice either. Marlene even said they sedated her and told her nothing so she wouldn't be afraid. That right there says Marlene doesn't know for sure that Ellie would choose self sacrifice, so she withheld that rather important piece of information from her.

Ellie is also 14 years old. This sort of decision is way too much to put on her shoulders, and I say this as a very mature 14 year old when I was that age.

"Ok, but this is the fate of the world!" Says who? What they didn't give you in the show was the letters/notes Joel finds in the hospital saying Ellie wasn't the first immune person that they've performed lethal surgery on to poke around in a brain. And you know what? None of it worked. Could Ellie have worked? Maybe. But it's a slim chance in hell it would and that just wasn't worth it to Joel.

You also can't vaccinate a fungal infection. It doesn't work that way, which is why doctors give people creams and hope for the best when they have fungal infections.

Also, this was ONE doctor with some nurses. A doctor and a scientist are not the same thing. Granted, a doctor would be better at figuring something out, but that wasn't his area of expertise. He'd need a whole team of experts to even hope to find a cure IF it was there. They also had no equipment, no mri's or cat scans, nothing. Yes, they were in a hospital but right before Joel enters the room, one of them asks "Do we have enough power?" They're not even sure they can power the room to perform the surgery - how ar they going to spend countless months and years on a supposed cure?

BUT let's overlook all of that and say by some miracle they find a cure. How are they going to mass produce said cure? They most likely don't have the resources for this as everything is shut down and 20 years old. And even if they did, how to mass distribute it? Marlene said the Fireflies would, but so many people distrust them so who's to say they'd accept it? Not to mention Joel, by himself, took out an entire building of them.

Marlene also had the audacity to say to Joel that she understands his plight because she was there when Ellie was born so she gets it. No, you don't. You took your friend's baby out of obligation and put her in an orphanage and straight into a FEDRA school/camp. Marlene came back when Ellie was bit, chained her up in a room for weeks, and kept performing experiments on her to see if she would turn. She didn't raise Ellie so she couldn't possibly have known that sort of connection.

In the end, Joel chose love because he loves Ellie like he loved his daughter. And if I were in his shoes, I 100% would've made the exact same decision.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

#joel miller #i will defend his choice #I do welcome respectful discourse on this though #if you think he's wrong let me know why I'm curious #the last of us

[suzakisbbygirl]

Hi! I hope you’re doing well! I want you to know thank you for the stories! They are amazing and make me so happy to read!

I want to ask could I get HC’s on how the Mighty Warriors comfort their lovers after a hard/bad day?

This is so good omg I can feel the fluff in my heart🥺

Apologies for taking so long, I’ve been super busy with work and getting ready to go back to school ://

Regardless, I hope you enjoy☺️

Ice, Jesse, and Pearl for this one !!

Much love ~ ember

Mighty Warriors Comfort their S/O After a Hard Day

Ice

Honestly I see Ice being very gentle with his s/o

I think he would want you to just relax, and he would take care of everything else for you

Whatever you wanted, hes on it

Food, drinks, cuddles, whatever it is, he wants to do it for you

He wouldn’t exactly have the Funk Jungle shut down for the night, just in case you want to go and have some fun there

But if you ask him to stay with you instead, he’s next to you in milliseconds

He would tell the others that he is staying with you for the night, and that they were on their own for the night

He says it with a gentle voice, but his eyes are saying “if you disturb me and my s/o ill rip your head off”

Just wants you to feel better

Theres nothing he hates more than seeing you upset

Wishes he could go beat up whoever gave you such a hard time, but he knows that you need him more

Turns into a professional chef

Like if you let him, he’ll have a three course meal, plus extra snacks and drinks prepared

And its all actually really good too

Honestly Ice is so good at taking care of you, you won’t even remember why you’re upset by the end of the night

Jesse

As soon as this man hears you’ve had a bad day he’s ready to fight whoever upset you

Like who had the audacity to mess with my s/o and think they’ll get away with it

Honestly his s/o might have to stop him from walking out the door and hunting them down

He just hates seeing you upset, and needs some sort of anger release

However he’s gonna have to find that at a different time, and he knows that, and he knows that all you need in the moment is him

That whole night, he refuses to let anyone near you, like genuinely gatekeeping you from the world

It might seem possessive, but in reality he just wants you to know that he’s there to protect and comfort you

I don’t see him as being the best with words, so he shows you this through actions like this

He might try to cook for you, but it might be a better idea to order food instead…

He just needs to know that you’re okay but he’s not the best with his words so he’s running around getting you anything and everything you could possibly want

I’m Reality all you want is him, but it’s cute the way he takes care of you hehehe :)

Pearl

Pearl typically is joking around with you

Everyone knows he’s the guy to keep spirits up in Mighty Warriors

So when he sees you upset, he doesn’t know what to do at first

He’ll hesitantly walk to you and wrap his arms around you

Naturally he’s gonna wanna say something funny, but he wants to be there for you, so he just lets you cry on his shoulder staying silent

I don’t see him as the kind to really rush around to take care of you

I see him as the kind to stay with you, by your side the entire time until he knows you’re better

Of course, if you ask for something, he’s immediately up and getting you whatever you need

But he’s glued to your side, arms around you, simply holding you close, letting you do whatever you need to keep from bottling up emotions

After a while of just embracing you he’s gonna start to make jokes

He just wants to see you smile, it’s his most favorite thing in the world

His way of taking care of you is taking you away from masses of people, and enjoying time together

It’s not often that the two of you get time away from Mighty Warriors, but in moments like this, he won’t let anyone disturb your peace

Honestly, seeing you upset might be one of the only things that frightens him, but he’s great at bringing a smile back to your beautiful face <3

#embers chaos #escape reality #high and low #high and low fluff #h&l #high and low fanfiction #high and low scenarios #high and low imagines #mighty warriors #mighty warriors fluff #mighty warriors scenarios #mighty warriors imagines #mighty warriors fan fiction #mighty warriors ice #mighty warriors jesse #mighty warriors Pearl #ice h&l #jesse h&l #pearl h&l #funk jungle

[ediblegoldstars]

Just watched the “last desperate trick” conversation in S1 E4, where Loki tells Mobius the TVA is lying to him, and — Mobius so clearly believes him! I couldn’t remember when he started taking Loki seriously and the answer is: immediately. You can see it in his eyes. Most of Mobius is like, “What a pathetic attempt,” but his eyes are like… well they’re like…

They look exactly how I felt, as a fifteen-year-old at Catholic mass, as I had been every Sunday since I was a baby, as, in the normal course of sitting-standing-kneeling-and-back-again-for-funsies I was struck by the singular question: what if we are doing all this for nothing? We are a churchful of dignified humans singing truly bizarre songs in keys and time signatures that none of us have business in. We’re telling stories about guys named Bildad and trying to brand ourselves The #1 Christian. It consumes us. It’s started wars and gotten people eaten, burned alive, murdered, and it’s what I’d built my life around. It’s what my parents had demanded I build my life around. And… what if… what if it’s all a lie?

I’ll tell you: you shut that thought down and you fight it for a while, until you get tired, or you hear a take so real it knocks out the south wall of your faith before you can say, “save me a wafer!” But you’ve heard the singular doubt, and it will not be unheard. The glue that holds so much of your world together will weaken, and start to snap. You start to feel it’s you against the rest of the world no matter what, and you’re coursing with the feeling of being alive and knowing a truth.

I’ll tell you what else: the person who tipped you off? Who knows the truth and guides you through it? You’re gonna have incredible sex, such that rocks the foundations of Midgard or wherever you happen to be, because finding out you’re wrong and someone else is right is sexy.

#don’t even talk to me about ‘work your loki’ #this show is mainly about domming a conniving norse god and that’s why it’s so relatable #we’ve all been there #lokius #loki season one #loki series #loki tv #religion #tw: religion #catholiscism

[maddieautobot273]

Silk & Cologne (54)

A Miguel O'Hara X OC Fanfic - link to AO3 (X)

Chapter 54: Dawn - previous chapter (X)

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Female! Spidersona OC

Words: 5.8K words

Warnings: PG for injury and implied weapon of mass destruction

Summary: Lisa and her friends shut down the poral threatening to collapse Earth-1218.

//////

We all stared up at the portal in the sky, watching as it slowly sparked and crackled. It was becoming unstable. If it collapsed, would it simply be over and done with? It would go out in style and take my universe with it?

“What do we do now?” Noir asked, raising his voice as a large and loud gust of wind rush passed us. 

“We need to figure out a way to contain it!” Miguel yelled back, using his body to brace and shield mine from the wind, or try to at least. 

Panic rattled in my mind about the multitude of things that could go wrong. Even if we do contain it, what about the authorities? People would talk, ask questions. What about the national guard? The military? 

Come to think of it, where are they? 

A wave of guilt washed over me, “I probably shouldn’t have been too quick to kick Chameleon to the curb.”

“If you hadn’t, he would have taken me to God knows where,” Kasey shook her head as she glanced my way, her arms raised to shield her face from the wind. “You saved me, Lisa.”

“Don’t ever apologize for something like that,” Miguel reassured me. “In fact, I may have an idea on how to stop this. Well, two actually!”

“Let's hear it then before we’re blown away like leaves!” Gwen screamed, trying to keep herself and Touga from falling over. 

“Lyla,” Miguel brought his gizmo up to his face, trying to scroll through the touch screen. “Remember Project: Reset? Back in the old Alchemax days?”

“Oh, do I!” Lyla grins as her holoform appears, rubbing her hands together like an eager grasshopper before cycling through the database on her personal screen. 

“What’s Project: Reset?” I asked him.

I watched as a small portal opened beside Miguel and he reached inside it. He pulled his hand out, holding a strange looking sleek white baton. “Back during my early days in Alchemax when I first started, my old boss would have me occasionally work with the company’s R&D department. They were experimenting with a weapon that– with enough charge– could wipe and realtor people’s memory on a massive scale.”

“Sounds like a weapon of mass destruction to me!” Toya commented. 

“It was, which was why I convinced my then boss at the time to shut it down before more could be made,” Miguel responded. 

“Okaaay, but how does that help us with that?” I asked again, pointing at the portal as the integrity seemed to be getting worse. 

“With the portal? Nothing.” Miguel yelled over the wind as he began to tweak and make altercations with the device. “Lyla, Margo, and Gabriel can work their magic from HQ and contain the blast, sending it directly back to Harry’s dimension and doing a number on his lab. At the same time, I can trigger this device to alter the town’s people’s memories so they won’t remember anything from the invasion.”

“That’s brilliant!” Hannah beamed, gripping onto Touga to keep still. “A little terrifying, but brilliant!”

“But what about everyone else all over the world that was watching the festival online or on TV?” Kasey asked. “They’ll know something is off if the people of New York suddenly act like this all never happened.”

“Remember the part I mentioned about charging the device?” Miguel recalled. His eyes scanned the area, looking up to the top of the Statue of Liberty, specifically the tip of the flame torch in Lady Liberty’s hand. “If I can get high enough, I can pick up the broadcast signal and transmit the wipe to everyone that was watching the show!”

“Perfect, let’s do that!” I exclaimed, eyes widening in relief. 

“But there’s a catch,” Miguel quickly added, hooking his arm around my shoulders to stop me from blowing away. “I need to replace the memory of the invasion with something else-!”

“Like a fake memory or an actual event?” Noir asked. 

“Definitely the ladder!” Miguel answered back in earnest. 

“Like. . . like a canon event?” My mind was racing as I tried to figure out what new memory we could create to replace the one of the invasion. 

I could sense the gears in his head turning as Miguel looked over at me. “Kind of, yeah!”

“We’re always saving the canon from breaking, so this will be a wonderful change of pace!” Gwen grimaced and pushed against the wind. 

“So what kind of canon event?” Toya asked, his voice yelling over the wind. “It has to be something big right?”

Think, Lisa, think! 

All of those people, in the audience and watching on TV, their phones, laptops, why were they all tuning in in the first place?

Then it hits me. How could I have been so blind?

“What about our show?” I suggested, looking out towards the team. 

“The show?” Kasey repeated with more emphasis. 

“Yes, the show. Our dance, you guys!” I exclaimed, my gaze washing over Kasey, Hannah, Toya, and Touga specifically. 

My Webslingers. 

“Everyone came to see our show, so let’s give them a show!” I fought against the wind with an encouraging smile as I took my mask off so they could see my face. 

My friends looked at each other, silently debating what to do. 

“But wait, you said it alters people’s memories,” Kasey spoke up, a look of worry on her face. “Does that mean our memories will be changed too?”

Miguel hesitated briefly as the eyelets of his mask drooped to a sad expression, his voice laced with apology. “The device has been altered to protect only those wearing a gizmo. So, yes. . . your memories will be altered.”

“Then. . . that means you guys won’t remember everything that’s happened. You all finally getting the chance to see the real Miguel. The real me. . .” The realization hit me as I felt my heart drop to my stomach. 

My body suddenly felt heavy and limb. For a second, I thought I wouldn’t have to hide such a big secret from them anymore. I thought I’d be able to finally be my complete self around them.

I felt the grip of Miguel’s arm tighten around my shoulders, his silent apology plucking at my heartstrings.  

“If by the odd chance this does work. . . might as well go out with a bang, right?” Touga shrugged with a contagious smile. 

“What?” My voice was barely a whisper being carried out into the wind as I looked up towards my friends. 

“Considering all of the crazy stuff that we’ve seen in the last hour?” Hannah gawked at her friend before sharing a glance with me and the rest of the group. “I’m in! I think this can work!”

“If Hannah’s in, I’m in!” Toya grinned, grabbing her hand before looking over at Kasey. “What about you, K?”

Kasey glanced between everyone else before her gaze fell upon me. My eyes poured into hers, pleading for her to trust me. She suddenly laughed, hysterical even, before waving her hands in the air. “You’re our friend, Lisa. Super hero or not. What the hell! This day can’t keep getting any weirder, right?”

I grinned in relief before looking over to Miguel, nodding my head. “Let’s go with your plan.”

“Alright, team, repair the stage as best as you can and get a camera set up. I’ll contact HQ and establish the signal at the top of the statue,” Miguel relayed his orders like the organized leader I knew him to be, watching as the Spiders set off to do their task. His gaze fell upon me and my friends. “Webslingers, do what you do best.”

I looked out to my friends, smiling confidently as I used my powers to leap for them, gathering them in my arms before web-slinging us closer to the stage. 

“Gabriel, are you there? Did Lyla fill you in?” Miguel spoke in the background as he began running for the statue. 

“Yeah, she did, but still struggling to believe it,” his little brother’s voice spoke through the com-link. “Project: Reset? Are you serious? You must be really desperate to whip that out all of a sudden.”

“Don’t start with me,” Miguel grumbled, muttering something else in Spanish that I couldn’t decipher, although I couldn’t help the faint smirk that formed on my lips when my friends and I arrived on the stage. 

We quickly helped the others clean up the stage while they patched up broken and loose panels with their webbing. There was a lightning crackle like noise as I whipped my head up to the statue of liberty to see another portal open up just feet away from Harry’s portal. It was a portal from Spider Society HQ. 

“Our portal is stabilized, Miguel,” Margo’s voice spoke up through the com-link. “Ready to go on your mark.”

“We’re just missing one more piece to this puzzle,” Miguel uttered softly in the com-link before raising his voice. “METRO! Are you still around?”

“Right here, boss man!” A new voice fluttered through the com-link as a white and black dressed spider swinged up onto the stage. 

METRO’s spider suit had a black and white colour scheme that almost reminded me of the anti-venom spider-suit, but this one felt more personalized with a white spider necklace hanging low on his chest and a black with white spider webbing bandana wrapped around his forehead. The top part of his head was uncovered, giving way to his immaculately tailored dreadlocks of black and light aubrey brown coloured hair. 

Wait a minute, METRO BOOMIN?!

“Wait, he’s a Spider-Man too?!” I gasped, eyes wide as I looked between him and the small speck of Miguel’s body clinging onto Lady Liberty’s torch. “But you said originally no spider-person could actually exist in my dimension!”

“That’s right.” Miguel responded quickly. “He’s not from your dimension.”

“Huh?” I gawked, my head trying to wrap around the concept as METRO quickly fixed and set up his DJ player and sound mixer. 

“It’s true, Muse! I’d do the whole ‘Okay let’s do this one last time’ speech, but clearly we don’t got time for that,” METRO chuckled anxiously as he finished setting up. “I’m from Earth-101, I developed a psychic connection to my other dimensions personas. It’s how I’m here. Call me Metro-Spider.”

“O-Okay?” I wasn’t sure exactly how to respond to that, but I at least offered him a reassuring thumbs up. 

“Okay, we’re ready!” Hannah exclaimed as she and the others joined me on stage.

Leave it to Hannah to accidentally leave her bag backstage with backup costumes for all of us in the event something horribly went wrong. Loose stitching? Fabric got ripped? Trying escaping an enemy anomaly invasion and potential dimensional destruction. 

“Okay, Miguel, we’re in position!” I exclaimed through the com-link as I looked around the newly rebuilt stage, held together miraculously by our spider friends webbing and looked over as they each got cameras set up aimed towards us. 

“Cameras are primed and ready to roll!” Gwen chimed in, attaching the reset adaptor to the camera and the little device blinked green, indicating its connection to Miguel’s wand. 

“Here goes nothing!” Miguel took a deep breath. “But if this doesn’t work–”

“It’s going to work, Miguel,” I insisted, my gaze locking on to his body. “Trust me.”

I could feel our gazes locked on to one another, even at such a long distance apart. I felt a long caress down our bond, soothing me, both of us, as I breathed in and out slowly. In that moment my mind flashed back to when we danced together for the first time, he way he held me close, and when he whispered to me those same words I sent out to him through our bond. 

‘Do you trust me, Miguel?’

‘With my life, Lisa.’ 

“Let’s do it!” I called out as I launched a web to connect with the webbing along the stage, my player syncing with METRO’s sound system. 

“We’re coming to you live!” Noir announced with a signature radio actor voice, signaling us to start. 

I suddenly felt a tap on my wrist. I glanced over to see Kasey had leaned in closer to me, whispering, “If you still want to tell us about the whole super hero spider thing after all this is over, just come talk to us. We’ll think it’s crazy, but I know you’ll convince us otherwise.” 

I smiled softly at her, giving her hand a squeeze. “Thanks Kasey. I’m glad to have you as my friend.”

She smiled back before pulling away. 

Music started to play, the familiar violins and drum beats fluttering our ears as my friends and I started to dance, picking it right up from where we left off before the world seemed to go to shit. 

“I'm still fighting, I don't fear I've lost

Am I dreamin', is there more like us?

Got me feelin', like it's all too much

I feel beaten, but I can't give up!”

I cast a comforting glance to Kasey who was startled at first, expecting us to start from the beginning. After giving her an encouraging nod, motioning for her to follow my lead, she immediately stepped up and danced in sync with us. 

“Here we go!” METRO yelled excitedly. 

“I can't find it in myself to just walk away

I can't find it in myself to lose everything!” 

I closed my eyes, and it was like we were back in our dance studio, learning this dance for the first time. 

We all turned, forming a circle as Touya, Touga, Hannah and I surrounded Kasey. We all reached our arms out towards her as she crossed her arms over her chest, something similar to the Wakanda Forever salute before flexing her arms down to her sides. As she did that, the rest of us dropped to one knee, kneeling as we bowed our heads to her.

Just like before. Just like we practiced. 

“You’re doing great,” I whispered softly to them all. 

“Feel everyone's against me, don't want me to be great

Things might look bad, I'm afraid to look death in the face!”

“One, two, three, LET’S GO-!” Metro-Spider shouted, a fist in the air. 

That’s the signal. 

I could hear the ringing of Miguel activating the reset device and quickly soon after, wave after wave of pulsing blue energy soared across the sky of the entire city, and with any luck, the entire world. 

The beat dropped as Kasey then propelled herself forward, sliding along the floor. Hannah and I steered clear of her entrance. As we faced in her direction, Toya stepped behind Hannah and Touga stepped behind me, the boys hoisting us up to our feet and became our dance partners. The pair of us did a sweet waltz as Kasey was up front performing her own solo.

“I'm good now, who's really bad? 

I choose me now, what's wrong with that?

Wish you could see me

Now, now, mm, who had my back, baby?

Know no love lost, good always will win~”

I looked up into the sky, towards the portal to Harry’s dimension. The waves of energy from Miguel’s reset wand and the counteractive sparks from the conduit portal Lyla, Margo, and Gabriel created fought back against the enemy portal. It started to shrink, contorting violently. 

It’s working!

“Just a little more power and we can shut it down!” Gabriel’s voice rang through the com-link.

‘Finish it strong for me.’ Miguel’s voice purred through the bond. 

He had said the same thing when we were fighting Isabella in Noir’s dimension, and I felt the same surge of confident, motivative energy as I poured my heart out into the last steps of the dance, my voice reaching out. 

“Not done fightin', I don't fear I've lost 

Am I dreamin', is there more like us?

Got me feeling, like it's all too much

I feel beaten, but I can't give up!”

Kasey stepped aside, pulling up to the front of the stage as she and the others danced behind me. I was confused at first, but seeing her encouraging nod gave me the push to keep going. Together, I danced along with my friends as I sang the last set of lyrics to help me focus, my heart pounding in my chest. 

“I'm still fighting, I don't fear I've lost

Am I dreamin', is there more like us?

Got me feelin', like it's all too much

I feel beaten, but I can't give up!”

The enemy portal shrank smaller and smaller until it blipped into a tiny spec. There was a blink of light before the energy dispersed and sparkled in the sky like a giant firework. It gave us the perfect backdrop as we closed out the song. 

“Can't give up

Can't give, can't give up

Can't give, can't give up

Can't give, can't give up

Can't give up!” 

The music faded and the shimmering spectacle of the exploding portal faded into nothingness, giving way to the stars and the beautiful night sky. I took in deep breaths, my chest rising and falling as I lowered my fist from pounding it into the air with my finishing pose before my friend's dog piled me to the floor of the stage, their cheers and exasperated laughter filling the air. At the same time, Noir and Gwen cut the live broadcast feed and turned off the cameras. 

“Holy shit we actually did it!” Kasey laughed with a beaming smile. 

“That was like something out of an anime, oh my god!” Touga chuckled over Toya’s cackling. 

Hannah hugged me tightly, her thin arms wrapping around me. “We did it, we did it! You were amazing!” 

“Yeah. . .” I exchanged bewildered looks with each of them, the moment slowly processing in my mind before I reached my arms out to pull them all into a group hug. “I love you guys!”

I didn’t know why I was suddenly getting so emotional, but when my friends each returned their own embrace, I felt like my beating heart finally got the chance to slow down. Swift movement caught my ear as I looked up to see Miguel land near us on the stage, his mask evaporating from his face to show off his stunning eyes filled with pride. “It worked!”

“It did!” I beamed. 

When I moved to stand up, I suddenly felt a horrible, aching pain in my ankle as I immediately dropped back down to the floor, whining in pain. “OW!”

My friends immediately backed away, startled. But Miguel moved in, kneeling in front of me but was careful to not completely overshadow my form and gave me room to breathe. “What’s wrong?”

“I think– I think I sprained my ankle.” I hissed, my hand brushing down to find the source of the pain before retracting itself quickly. 

Miguel’s eyes looked me over, his eyes pleading silently before speaking, “May I?”

I nodded and watched as Miguel’s fingers gently, carefully skimmed down the calf of my left leg and as soon as his rough fingers brushed over my ankle, I bit my tongue as I held back a pained groan, fighting the urge to recoil from the touch. “That's definitely a sprain. You’d be screaming in pain if it was broken.”

“Obviously,” I couldn’t help but laugh as I shook my head. “Out of all of the things that happened tonight, this is what brings me under?”

“I’m glad it was something like this and not worse.” Miguel stated firmly, but a ghost of a relieved smile formed on his lips. 

He carefully stepped around me before gently scooping me up in his arms, and lifted me up from the floor. He held me close to his chest and I pretended to not see Hannah quietly squealing at the action, hiding behind Touga as my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. 

“Lyla tracked your home addresses through your phones,” Miguel spoke as a portal opened up behind my friends. “You’ll have another minute or so before the memory reset takes effect. I’d like you all to be in the safety of your homes when it happens.”

“Thanks for the free ride, Miguel,” Kasey grinned, offering him a salute. “We’ll see you around?”

Miguel offered Kasey a small smile as he nodded. “I’ll be around.”

“Good. After tonight, I think you owe us all a little group dinner night out,” She grinned, “You should come hang out with us sometime.”

“It could be fun.” I encouraged him softly with a soft brush of my fingers against his jawline. 

Miguel chuckled softly at the action before nodding again. “Fair enough. My treat then, just set a date and time.”

“So. . . I guess we’ll see you later?” Toya offered us a small wave. 

“See you later.” I waved back with my own smile. 

See you after your memories are erased and you won’t remember anything that happened tonight. 

One by one, I watched as my friends jumped through the portal. Kasey was the last to leave, offering me one more friendly farewell before following behind the others. The portal closed quickly after her departure. 

“Lyla, what’s the status of the dimensional integrity?” Miguel asked as Lyla’s holographic form appeared beside him. 

“Earth-1218 is slowly stabilizing, Miguel!” Lyla reported with a salute. “Margo and Gabriel will continue to monitor it for the remainder of the night to make sure there’s no setbacks, but all things considered, Project: Reset appears to have worked flawlessly!”

“So. . . no one in my dimension will remember what happened tonight?” I asked Miguel, staring up at him as the rest of the spiders regrouped at our location. 

“No one, except for you,” Miguel confirmed with a nod before his hold on me tightened ever so slightly. “But that doesn’t diminish what you accomplished tonight.”

“You did good kid,” Noir approached, patting my head gently. “Real good.”

I smirked over at him. “Aren’t I older than you?”

“I’d argue I’m more mature and older in spirit!” Noir jabbed playfully. 

“Okay, wise guy,” Gwen came up to his side, nudging his shoulder. “Do you want me to steal and hide your hat again?”

“The technical term is fedora and no!” Noir clutched his hat close to his head, making me laugh. 

“Alright, alright, settle down,” Miguel coaxed the group to ease up with a cautious stare. “I believe our work here is done. Spiders, let's go back home.”

Miguel swiped his finger along the screen of his gizmo, activating another portal. The familiar orange and yellow swirls and hexagons were a comforting sight as Gwen started running a head. 

“I’ll go a head and let Doc know to get a bed ready!” She chimed in. 

“Thank you, Gwen-!” Miguel could barely finish his thanks before Gwen was already through the portal. 

“Kids these days, they can never stay still,” Noir shook his head before running after her, disappearing into the portal. 

With just the two of us remaining, Miguel looked down at me with a softened expression. “You mind if I bring you back? Just so Doc can take a look at you?”

I nodded softly. “That’s fine. I don’t know how a normal doctor would react if two spider costumed people showed up to an ER in the middle of the night.”

“Wouldn’t that just be a regular Saturday night for them?” He grinned back. 

“Oh, hardy har har,” I mocked, rolling my eyes. 

Miguel started walking towards the portal, his arm that held up my shoulders lifting up to bring me closer to his face. “All that said, I really am proud of you, Lisa. You were spectacular, Spider-Muse.”

I grinned back at Miguel, cupping his cheek. “You weren’t so bad yourself, Spider-Man.”

The look he gave me made my heart flutter as his eyes seemed to sparkle just like the stars above. “Come here,” he whispered, before capturing my lips in a tender kiss as we phased through the portal. 

**********

“Oh I feel so awful for missing it, I just don’t know what happened!” My mother apologized profusely for the umpteenth time as Miguel and I stood with her at the departure gate at JFK international airport. 

It was now the early afternoon the following day since the Marvel Day festival ended, specifically just over 12 hours since myself, my friends and the Spider Society saved my dimension from complete and potential annihilation. 

Miguel’s plan with Project: Reset worked. After Spider-Doc looked me over and gave me some pain meds to sleep it off for a few hours, I woke up to check the news on my phone and for a second I thought I had woken up from a dream. It was like the anomaly invasion never happened, and all the news reported on were highlights of the Marvel Day festivities. 

One of the bigger highlights was The Webslingers performance. 

The firework-like explosion of Harry’s portal was played off as just that. Fireworks and special effects, which was why due to safety reasons, we didn’t have an audience physically with us. Nobody was expecting such a grand display, and as it turned out the animators and special effects crew working behind the scenes were so burnt out from the work that they “didn’t remember doing all of this but must have done it in their sleep”, and since then there’s been a call online to give their industry better pay. 

Honestly, good for them. 

When it came to my friends, when I first woke up this morning, the group chat was lively with reactions to our performance and watching the live playback. According to them, we had celebrated together briefly before we quickly realized I had done something to my ankle. They said they had seen Miguel take me to a nearby hospital and kept them all updated as they had their own little party back at the twin’s penthouse before returning home in the wee hours of the night. 

It was only then did the memory reset really sunk in for me. They really don’t remember anything that actually happened last night. The invasion, Kasey’s kidnapping and rescue, fighting Oscorp with Miguel and the others, seeing my powers in action. . . 

Perhaps it was for the best. 

As for my mom on the other hand, when Miguel and I arrived at her hotel room to check on her, the poor woman was so frazzled. Miguel’s reasoning behind her fainting was due to a sudden episode, or at least that’s what the “doctor’s” had told him when he said he had immediately handed her over to the local authorities to be brought to a nearby emergency room and they had contacted him. She didn’t remember arriving back to the hotel, and so I had explained that after I got my ankle checked out, between her fainting and the medication the nurses gave her, she passed out, and that we personally drove her back to let her rest. 

Speaking of my ankle. 

“And your ankle! Oh, I’m just happy you had Miguel and your friends with you, dear,” Janet hugged me tightly, and for a second I thought she was going to crush me. 

“Mom, I’ll be okay, really!” I reassured her with a gentle laugh as I attempted to return the embrace. “You’re acting like this is the first time I’ve injured myself.”

“I know, I know, it’s just been awhile, that’s all,” She shook her head, pulling away from me as she offered me an apologetic smile. “I know I can always watch your show online, but I would have loved to see the whole thing in person.”

“You showed up mom,” I took her hands in mine, squeezing them tightly. “That’s what matters to me.”

That part wasn’t a lie or made up memory. It was the truth and nothing but the truth. 

“You’ll be alright on your flight home, Janet?” Miguel asked with concern in his eyes. 

“Oh, yes, Miguel, don’t you worry!” Janet smiled reassuringly as she patted her fanny pack. “I’ve got my gravol with me so I won’t even know if I’m feeling sick on the plane as soon as I’m on board.”

“Or as dad liked to call it, the gravol haze?” I teased with a knowing look, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Oh hush you!” Janet glared at me with a playful grin. 

There was an announcement overheard that a certain flight would begin boarding soon. My mom’s eyes lit up as she quickly checked to make sure she had all her bags with her. 

“Oh, I should get going.” She sighed, grabbing her purse as she looked over towards Miguel and I. She had a soft smile on her face before she suddenly looked at me with this look of. . . longing. “But before I leave, honey, may I talk to you for a moment?”

My eyes lit up at the recognition in her words. Growing up I quickly learned if my mother ever gave me that look, she wanted to talk to me in private. Usually it was always something important, so I never kept her waiting. I should know, the first time she ever gave me that look was when she first told me when dad got sick all those years ago. 

“Sure, mom, just don’t miss your boarding time.” I nodded softly before glancing up at Miguel. “Give us a minute?”

“Of course,” Miguel smiled softly as he squeezed my shoulder, leaning in to peck my temple before stepping away. 

Once he was far enough where I convinced myself that he wouldn’t be able to hear our conversation, I stepped closer to my mom. “What’s going on?”

Janet was silent briefly, her eyes shifting as if she were choosing her words carefully. But when she spoke, she was calm and collected. “Would you feel comfortable if. . . if I showed Jin your performance?”

I could feel my nerves become static, my grip on her hands tightening. My pupils went wide, my eyes searching hers to try and find out if she was joking or not. But when it came to my mother, and topics like this, she never joked. 

Other than her updating me on his therapy progress every now and then, I haven’t physically seen or heard from my step-father since I cut contact with him. Just over 2 years ago. But if she could update me on his progress, then I could just as easily update him on mine. 

I want to show him how far I’ve come since then. 

“Sure,” I nodded softly. 

Janet’s eyes lit up in surprise, her jaw nearly dropping to the floor. “Wait, really?!”

I nodded again, squeezing her hands tightly. 

“Oh, that’s great, sweetheart, I’m so happy to hear that!” She even bounced a little in excitement. “He really has been doing better. I think watching it will just be the thing he needs to show him how strong and powerful you are and how far you’ve come. Show him what he’s been missing.”

What she said suddenly made a lump form in my throat, tears swelling in my eyes. “Oh, mom. . .”

“I know, I know, I overdid it,” she grinned, pulling me into another hug. “There’s also one other thing. This one, you don’t have to decide now, if you need time to think about it.”

My heart suddenly skipped a beat as I pulled back, anxiously awaiting to hear what she had to say. “Yes?”

“How would you feel about. . . flying down to Korea for a few days?” Janet suggested, her eye meeting mine with a genuine expression. “To come see him?”

If I thought I was frazzled before, I definitely was now. “When?”

“Anytime you want to, sweetie!” Janet quickly reassured me, squeezing my hands. “Again, it’s entirely up to you, but I was with your step-father for his most recent session and his therapist suggested the idea. He believes Jin is about ready to. . . make amends.”

My eyes widened at that. “And is. . . Jin ready for it?”

“I’m not sure if he’ll know for sure until it happens,” Janet shook her head with uncertainty. “But he does wish to see you. Even just for a few minutes.”

My mind was racing as the multitude of possibilities swarmed in my head. All the things that could go right, or wrong. Why did it feel like one weighed more than the other?

Even still, there was this sudden burning sensation in the pit of my stomach.  I met my mom’s gaze, offering her a small smile as I spoke softly, “I’ll think about it.”

She smiled back at me, holding me close. “Take as long as you need dear. I love you.”

Janet hugged me one last time as another announcement chimed over the speakers. She gathered her bags and I saw her off as she waddled to the security checkpoint. As I lowered my hand from waving at her, Miguel’s footsteps caught my ear as I turned to glance at him. “I’m okay.” I quickly reassured him. 

“Are you sure?” He asked me with a hint of worry in his eyes as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, his hand reaching up to wipe a stray tear from my cheek. 

I nodded softly, leaning into him. “I’ll tell you about it later.”

“Alright,” Miguel gave me a tight squeeze, kissing the top of my head before he motioned to the side. “Let’s get going, and don’t forget~”

“I know, I know,” I rolled my eyes in an annoyed manner as I reached over to a pillar and grabbed the walking crutch I had left on the side while seeing my mother off. I hooked it under my left armpit, holding Miguel close with my right. “Do I have to keep this cast on for 4 weeks? Didn’t Spider-Doc say this could heal in half the time thanks to the healing factor of the spider powers?”

“Yes, but because of the reset, your friends and family don’t know about your powers anymore,” Miguel reminded gently. “So you have to keep up the façade of being your friendly neighborhood self.”

“Did you just make a Spider-Man joke?” I gawked at Miguel.

Miguel didn’t hide his cheeky grin and I caught a small glimpse of his fangs as he spoke. “Maybe I did.”

I groaned, rolling my eyes again as we stepped out into the main entrance of the airport. “Your–”

“An asshole?” He quickly chimed in, leaning in closer to me. 

I smirked back at him, bringing my hand up from his hand to cup his chin. “My asshole.”

“No lo olvides, mi Mona Lisa.” Miguel's tone was flirtatious as his hand caught the small of my back, his warm breath fanning my lips before he kissed me in the sunshine. - Don't you forget it, my Mona Lisa

///////

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[artificial-transmutations]

Closer Than Flesh - Conflict

Jake is almost sad to see Dominik's body change. In this in-between state, Jake is Jake again. Not Dominik and not yet whoever he is going to become. Still, this doesn't change much of his state of mind. He feels powerful and in control, being able to freely use the magic of the stone now. He can't really control yet who exactly he is going to become, but that is only a matter of time. Hair explodes all over his body. A dense full beard forms in his face, and his stylish haircut grows out into a wild mane of hair. But not only his face gets hairy: All over his chest and stomach, body hair grows in. Not decent or trimmed, no. A wild forest of hair is what materializes on Jake's upper body. Soon, pretty much every part of his torso is covered by a dense fur of hair - clearly visible, since Dominik's natural blonde hair color has vanished in favor of a dark brown. The changes quickly spread to his extremities as well: Both his arms and legs are covered by a layer of body hair as well, and his large cock gets embedded into a rich pubic bush.

As even his feet and the back of his hands get hairy, finally, the rest of his body follows the changes. The already fit body of Dominik explodes with mass. Both fat and muscles stack on his bones, and he gets considerably taller, to slightly over two meters in height.

The biggest changes however are not to Dominik's appearance but rather to his body shape and motion. Whereas Dominik was fit and athletic, Jake is now broad, heavy and tall, a powerhouse of a man, a force of nature.

His face quickly loses the youthful softness of the streamer it had before and becomes rugged and weathered, piling up a few years of age, leaving Jake at least in his mid-thirties.

As the changes to Jake's body slow down, clothing starts to appear on him. Not bothering with any underwear, a sturdy pair of durable pants forms over his legs and groin and his hairy feet are being wrapped in heavy boots. Finally, as always, the world comes back. The wooden planks of a small fishing boat form under Jake's massive feet and a rugged Scandinavian coast line around him. Finally, the bright blue sky and the ocean come in, completing the scenery.

Jake takes a deep breath of the salty air. There is no doubt the magic stone worked well. Even though Jake has never visited this part of the world before, he is sure that this was Norway. There are mountains in the distance and the shoreline just looks like Jake would expect from a Nordic country.

His new body feels powerful and great. It doesn't take a genius to guess that he is probably a sailor or a fisher. There is no one else but him on the small boat, so he has every time to explore his new body.

Everything about it is positively massive and strong. The dense coating of hair expresses his manliness well.

Jake scratches his head. What is it he wanted to do?

He groans when he remembers the conversation he had with his dick. It was so annoying. Having a talking cock sounds fun until you actually have one. Now he just wishes it would shut up for good and just be a normal part of his male anatomy.

He sighs. He should head to Båtfed now. To be honest, he isn't quite sure what he is about to do with the weapon there, but perhaps he can force that red demon guy to stop bothering him and make his cock behave normally.

That Jake has no idea on where his destination is or how he would steer a boat there doesn't pose much of a problem for Jake. He doesn't know, but his host body knows for sure. It's getting easier and easier to access knowledge and skills, so Jake just needs to close his eyes for a second. When Bjørnar opens his eyes again, he knows exactly where to go. Silently, he gets to work.

***

Skyler has mixed feelings. Mog'Tol's plan has worked extremely well, and from what he heard, the binding circle has been destroyed. The joy of revenge is somewhat diminished however from the fact, that the stone, that stone with the hated sigil of the past, has not yet surfaced anywhere. It is probably only a matter of time. Skyler has enough time, it's not like he is mortal. But he hates waiting, and every passing day makes him more vulnerable. It is not strictly unusual for demons to disappear for a year or a decade, but the more powerful ones, like himself, have some kind of representation at least. If word gets out about his powerless condition, he might very well lose more than just his reputation. And now that Mog'Tol knows, it's a race against the clock.

Still, humans are greedy. It will probably only take one or two months until one of them pillages the remains of the secret society, at most, and then he will have his magic back.

One or two months pass, and while Skyler is right about the pillaging, to his boundless frustration, 'his' artifact has not yet surfaced. There are other stones, presumably with demonic magic sealed in it that have appeared in the mortal world, but as big as the temptation is, Skyler dares not to lay hands on them. Not without his own magic, at least. If the original owner of that power would notice, Skyler would be no match for them right now. As frustrating as it is, the best course of action is to lay low and wait for now.

So, Skyler waits. And waits. And waits. Months become years, but there is not a single sign of his sigil stone. Of course, Skyler has sent his agents, human with weak minds that he is easily able to take over, to search for it discretely, but the stone does not appear in any collection. Over time, Skyler is forced to retreat more and more into his palace. Mog'Tol has apparently not yet told anyone about Skyler's situation, but there are rumors already.

To explain his public absence, Skyler has spread the rumor he is working on a bigger project in his palace. He didn't specify what exactly, which served in his favor, as the other influential inhabitants of hell are busier to discuss about what he is working on but to doubt it all together. But sooner or later, his lie will be revealed.

The years turn into decades without any new development. Just as his patience has worn out, Skyler senses a spark of hope. A tiny, miniscule part of his magic has returned to him, like a thin string of red mist. Someone has used the stone! Finally, the wait is over!

Immediately, Skyler heads for the mortal plane, following the traces of his magic like a blood hound. Would it just have been that tiny sliver of magic, Skyler probably would not have found its origin at all. But whoever used the stone seems to have taken a liking to his magic, as shortly after, more and more of his power is being activated and freed. It's still a tiny amount, and at this rate, it would take more decades for everything to return to him - but that isn't Skyler's plan. He successfully pinpoints the origin of the magic and will just take his power back from that mortal.

He did underestimate that mortal somewhat, Skyler has to admit. As he confronted the young man in his living place, he had the audacity of using Skyler's own magic to escape.

It matters little. Since he used magic to escape, *his* magic, Skyler just needs to follow the trail of power flowing back to him. That mortal fool might have gotten lucky once, but that won't happen another time.

It happened another time, and Skyler is confused by it. He had the situation, and that weak mortal's mind under his control - until he lost that control and he slipped away again. It is extraordinarily rare for a mortal to have a mind so strong he can resist Skyler's influence - and initially, this mortal had not shown any signs of such a strong mind at all. Still, at the very last second, Skyler's influence had been pushed out. That should be impossible. A single mind should not be able to become that strong all of a sudden.

Still, it was no problem. Skyler has another conversation with Mog'Tol, who hints that maybe his presence allows the mortal to use the stone like that. Nothing easier than that. There is no need to get his hands dirty himself, after all. He will just use his spies to find the mortal again and then appear and take the stone.

Skyler could scream in frustration as the mortal slips away again. He had the perfect opportunity and took over his spy at the right time, but still, the mortal being escaped his grasp barely. Skyler looks down at the dripping wet body he has stolen from some Polish construction worker. Time to change plans. He will send his minions to take away the sigil stone - and only then would he appear himself. That way, the stone wouldn't activate in resonance and the mortal has no means to escape.

Apparently, he had underestimated the mortal man again. It was a conundrum to Skyler. Even though the mortal obviously had a weak mind and succumbed more and more to the influences of the hellish magic, he had managed to activate the stone himself. How was this possible? He could consult Mog'Tol again but decides against it. He needs to adjust his thinking. Instead of chasing the mortal all over his plane of existence, he would just let him work for Skyler. Skyler had enough summonings to know how humans work. Promise them power, promise them immortality and they do exactly what you want. Skyler actually has every intention to honor this deal. It isn't hard to give the man what he wants, and he has proven to be an oddity among men. A conundrum Skyler would very much like to study further once he has his powers back.

So, the next time, he tracks his magic down to a place the mortals call south America, he proposes the deal to the mortal. He knows better than to press him for an answer - humans react poorly under pressure - which is a blessing most of the time, but not what he wants right now. After he sees the man disappear again, Skyler smiles. Not long now, and his magic and a brand new servant will be his.

***

Skyler really doesn't understand why he is having this visions of Baelnath, but for the first time after 'waking up', this is not the first thought he has. Baelnath has offered Jake a deal? Why didn't Jake tell him? Sure, his Dominik personality has been difficult, but this is important! Their lives depend on this! Then, another thought crosses Skyler's mind. What if Jake didn't tell him because he plans on agreeing to the deal? No, this can't be. Jake wouldn't have done what he did if he planned on becoming a servant of Baelnath. After all, why would he be looking for the angelic essence then?

A small part of his mind nagged on. There are possible explanations. Perhaps he wants to give it to his future master as a gift? No. Skyler refuses to believe that. Probably, Jake has only forgotten to tell him. That must be it.

Concentrating on his surroundings, Jake has obviously transformed into a new body again. Rough cloth rubs against Skyler's length and the space inside the pants is filled with sweat and hair. A lot of hair, actually. Skyler cannot remember a body that was that hairy down here. It isn't that bad though - that groin he is attached to is definitely manly and primal, which Skyler likes.

Pretty immediately, a gigantic hand readjusts Skyler's length. Apparently, he has chubbed up a bit thinking about the situation he is in. Skyler briefly considers getting harder and stimulating Jake further but can stop himself for a moment. On a rational level, this is getting him nowhere, and Jake potentially in a bad situation. On an instinctual level however... He is a cock. A piece of cockmeat. His prime duty is to get hard and be sticked somewhere to fuck. Or be jerked off. What does he care what situation Jake is in? He needs attention, now. When your cock calls, you have to answer, that what he... that's what... it? is for. Yes. Skyler is a cock and that is its purpose. Skyler is completely hard now, and it throbs inside the rough work pants. Jake's big hands come down to readjust himself, but every touch of Skyler's length only serves to make it harder and more demanding.

Finally, with a grunt, Jake's big hands open his pants and Skyler springs free. They are on a boat and as far as Skyler can see they are alone. But all that doesn't matter to it right now. Without saying a single word, the gigantic man wraps his hand around Skyler's body and starts to pump. No foreplay or more stimulation, just raw power and desire. Skyler feels as its mind meets the primal thoughts of the man jerking him and their thoughts become one once again. Just pumping away, trying to get more pleasure out of his dick. Jake/Skyler thrusts in his hand now, in complete silence but with barely contained force. After a few minutes, he can feel himself getting closer, and, with a non-descript grunt cums in a wide arch over the reeling, into the ocean.

The journey takes a few days since the town of Båtfed is on the other end of Norway, close to the very north. During the journey, Skyler thinks less and less about Jake's possible betrayal or what it has seen in this vision. In fact, Skyler thinks less and less in general. It lets itself being used for pissing, and of course for the regular jerk offs, but that's it. That's what it is for and that's what it does. Not a single word is exchanged between Bjørnar and his cock, during the whole time. Bjørnar is not a talkative guy in general, and there is nobody here to hear him. Skyler on the other hand, is a cock. Why should he speak to his owner?

It is only when Bjørnar and his cock finally arrive at Båtfed that the situation changes. Bjørnar moors the boat, and stretches, before walking towards the red wooden building of the stave church that is clearly visible outside of town. He has landed outside of town, since he likes to avoid any company if possible, and luckily, there is nobody there. During the days on the boat, Bjørnar had some time to think. After a few days of settling, Baelnath’s offer doesn't sound all too bad to him now. Sure, he would be a servant, but everyone is a servant of some kind. And being able to choose his bodies freely sounds really appealing, at least compared to going back to his magic-less life, that seems so far away now. However, he still has a trump card. He will get that divine thingamabob and trade it for an even better deal. Less servant, more equal to Baelnath. He, Bjørnar has the power right now, or at least he will have it shortly. No need to settle for anything less than what he wants.

Stomping towards the red building, he is surprised to actually see another human being out here. A twenty-something boy with blonde hair and a twinkish build is looking out to the ocean. Immediately, Bjørnar's dick reacts to the fuckable man, but Bjørnar disapproves. He has no time for that.

Instead, he tries the church door, only to find it locked. He rattles the door with some force, but it's stable enough. He would either need to get a key or break it down. There is no reason not to break it down, aside from the boy with the white shirt who has taken notice and approaches Bjørnar. Great. Human contact. Just what he needed.

"Do you want to visit the church?" asks the boy. Even his voice is light and cheerful. Disgusting.

"Fuck no. I just want to get in there." Bjørnar spits out.

"I'm sorry, but it's closed most of the time. My uncle is the priest here and he only opens the doors for service." The boy's eyes are sparkling in joy, even though he is talking to a hunk like Bjørnar.

"Oh, then I will break down the fucking door then." Bjørnar growls at the boy and stomps towards the door.

"Relax! I've got the keys right with me. I can show you the inside if you like, but only if you promise not to break anything." The boy quickly says and smiles a disarming smile.

"Okay, okay. No breaking anything. Lead on."

"Of course. But first... let us talk about the master's offer."

Bjørnar turns around, as the voice of the boy changes and gets a neutral, puppety tone to it. Sure enough, the eyes of the other man are glowing red now. He is being controlled by Baelnath now. Bjørnar just hopes that he is only here for him and doesn't know about the weapon.

Bjørnar grunts. Being so close to his goal, he has lost much of the respect for the red demon, especially since he is not here himself. Bjørnar still has the magic stone and can escape anytime he wants, but that would be rather inconvenient. No, he will resolve the situation another way.

"Right. The master." Bjørnar says slowly while trying to come up with an idea. "Who is that again?"

The tone of the boys voice does not change as he responds: "You know him well. Baelnath, the twisted master of flesh."

So, Baelnath is using magic to control that boy, huh? Well, Bjørnar has magic at his disposal himself. Time to use it.

He concentrates on the stone in his hand and feels the power surging. However, this time, he doesn't direct it at himself and his body, but at the young man's mind in front of him. He feels a slight struggle, but as Bjørnar can just throw more and more power at the problem, he quickly dominates the battlefield of the mind.

"Say it again. Who is your master?" Asks Bjørnar in a demanding tone.

It takes a moment, but the young adult responds differently now: "My master is... you. You are my master."

Bjørnar grins before being reminded to his arousal by his throbbing cock. "Good. Now, suck me off."

He opens his pants with his free hand and releases Skyler into the open. The blond boy does not hesitate for a moment and drops to his knees. In seconds, Skyler is all the way down the boy's throat, chocking him lightly. Bjørnar does not care about that he is out in public right now. There is nobody here, and if someone was, Bjørnar would not care. He pumps his hips, pushing Skyler down the boy's throat and smirks as he hears a muffled groan.

Bjørnar decides he needs more and pushes the other man's head with his free hand against his groin, almost choking him. "There. You are a good little slave, aren't you?"

The blonde guy interrupts his servicing only briefly to answer in the same monotone voice: "Yes, master."

"Good boy." Bjørnar says as he pulls down his pants even further and starts pumping his dick directly into the other man's throat. He thrusts and moans, finally cumming down the blonde's throat with a grunt.

After that, Bjørnar pushes the blonde from him and to the ground. He just bellows a "Now, the keys." and, as he receives them, does not care about the spent man on the ground anymore.

Skyler on the other hand is present like he has not been for a long time. It has mind-melded again with Bjørnar during his exploit and what it had seen scared it deeply. Bjørnar, Jake, is gone so far it really couldn't recognize any sign of its old friend anymore. Is that really it? Skyler cannot believe this. There has to be a way out for them, there just has to be. So instead of dozing off as it normally does after orgasm, Skyler stays present as good as it can as Bjørnar unlocks the door. Luckily, the beary man has not bothered to put it back into his pants, so Skyler can see.

The interior of the church is small, but quite beautiful. The sunlight shines in through colorful stained glass windows, and a few candles are burning. It's narrow in here and everything is made of wood. Naturally, the air inside is pretty hot, at least for Nordic people.

At the back of the church is a small wooden shrine, and Bjørnar is certain that what he is searching for must be there. He stomps closer until he stands in front of the closed shrine, hesitating for a short moment. Skyler isn't sure what is going on in Bjørnar's head, but he senses his chance.

"Jake!" he addresses the huge man who flinches a bit from the unexpected voice in his head. "I don't know what Baelnath promised you, but don't do it. We are here, Jake, and there is the weapon. Let's take it and defeat Baelnath!"

Skyler puts all the sense of urgency it can muster into these words. A moment passes and then Bjørnar starts laughing, in a deep, arrogant voice.

"I almost forgot you were there, little kuk[cock]! So, you little asshole listened in to the conversation I had with my slave?"

Bjørnar spits out on the church floor. "Know your place! But no. The deal is not bad, but I can do better. I'm not gonna take the deal. Instead, I am going to become much more, all on my own. Baelnath is pathetic. With the magic stone, I can be so much more powerful than him. I'll take over his slaves and make them mine. They are going to serve me. And nobody on earth can stop me, because only *I* have the magic."

Skyler is horrified. What is going on with Jake? It gets really angry. How can he just throw away everything like that?

"Jake, stop that! This isn't you!" Skyler shouts angrily.

"Oh, shut up! Nobody can stop me, not even you. Especially not you, you are just a cock. First thing I am going to do is silence you, for good. There is just one weapon on earth that is capable of stopping me, and that is inside this wooden box here. But not for very much longer."

With his strong arms, Bjørnar just rips open the shrine and reveals a crystal on a wooden stand inside. The crystal is beautiful: Warm yellow swirling light fills it and shines outward without any need of further illumination. The light isn't unpleasantly bright and yet, it fills the room naturally like the sunlight on a warm summer day.

While Bjørnar hesitates for a moment, Skyler's thoughts are spinning. If Jake destroys the angelic essence, all is lost, for good. It absolutely cannot let that happen. There is just one thing it can do now.

It has done it before and despite just having cummed, Skyler concentrates really hard on getting hard again. Come on! It has managed to do so in Romania, and so many other times now. Just... come on.

And really, Skyler's length grows rigid. Now it uses everything he has trained back in Germany. It knows that it will only stay in control for a short duration, the duration of one erection, but it has to try.

Skyler's strong mind overwhelms Jake's weak one as he is just reaching out to grab the crystal. Skyler stops the movement in his track and Bjørnar tries to use his other hand, sweat dripping from his brow in the hot church. It's a battle of minds, but Skyler eventually succeeds in bringing the hulking body under his control. It stands there, panting, and with a large erection. Now what. The hardon will subside eventually and then it's all Jake again. Jake is still present, in the back seat of its mind and there is nothing Skyler can do to hide something from him.

Skyler looks at the swirling light crystal and then at Bjørnar's body again. It is out of options. It needs to do *something*, anything at all.

Soon, Jake will control Bjørnar again and then the angelic essence must be out of his reach.

An idea appears. It's a crazy idea, but Skyler doesn't feel like it has much choice. It *must* act now, no time to think it through.

It grabs the crystal which feels warm and pleasant to the touch and carefully lifts it up to its face. Skyler just hopes this works, as it lowers the crystal until it touches the very erect dick. Skyler concentrates hard, but it is not even necessary. Easily as a wish, the golden light inside the crystal intensifies and flows out of its transparent home and into the flesh of Skyler's dick body, filling it and surrounding it for a moment, before sinking in gently.

Skyler feels a clarity it has not felt for a long time. Everything has a purpose, even it... no, even he. He doesn't know what this purpose is, and it is up to him to discover this, but as the angelic essence fuses with his being, it feels like he can do it.

During all the powerful emotions, Skyler has completely forgotten about his concentration, and as his dick body softens, Bjørnar is immediately present again.

Pure hatred fills his voice as he shouts: "You fucking idiot! You motherfucking traitor! Was that your plan all along? To have that power for yourself? Asshole!"

Angrily, he smashes the now-empty crystal to the ground, where it shatters into a thousand little shards and pulls out the sigil stone.

"So, that's how it is. My biggest enemy was never the demon, it was my own fucking dick. A fucking enemy, in my own fucking body."

His voice grows cold, as he continues: "If you are against me, I will need to look for allies elsewhere. I'm going to Baelnath now."

Demonic magic swirls around him, as he invokes the stone's powers again and vanishes in red mist.

Outside the church, a single black raven who had watched the scenery, spreads out his wings and flies away.

There is quite a lot going on between the two of them and things aren't exactly looking bright. Let's just hope this ends well. If you want to read the previous chapter, you can do so here. This magic link leads you all the way to the beginning. You can read the next episode here.

If you like to support my writing, be sure to head over to my riot page. Not only the warm feeling of supporting a mediocre TF writer awaits you there, but also awesome benefits, like the critically acclaimed Dropout Dorm storyline!

#closer than flesh #male transformation #hairy #cock tf #posession

[whatacaitastrophe]

Is It Over Now - Chapter 2

Previous Chapter

Chapter Song Inspiration: "Don't Speak" - No Doubt

Chapter Warnings: Panic Attacks, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD, Blood Drinking

Spotify Playlist: Here

Chapter 2: You're Letting Go

She’s standing back on the docks again, watching quietly as the sun begins to rise over what’s left of Baldur’s Gate. All of her companions are there, and everyone is happily discussing the celebrations they intend to have. Everyone, except Gale.

This time, though, Fallon is not in her own body as the scene unfolds in front of her. Instead, she's off to the side, watching as Gale paces in small circles, talking mostly to himself about what it would mean if he succeeds in reforging the crown and wielding it for himself; watching herself slowly realize where this conversation is going.

“Say something.” Fallon tells herself, but her past remains stunned silent as Gale tells her that he’s made his choice.

“SAY SOMETHING!” She yells to herself now, but someone may as well have cast a silencing spell on Fallon, because nobody reacts to the fact that there are two Fallons, and one is pleading with the other to stop her lover from making the biggest mistake of his life.

Panic flares in her chest and bile churns in her stomach as Fallon listens to Gale promise her the moon and the stars again. The window of opportunity to stop him is closing swiftly and Fallon’s past self is still standing there. Doing nothing.

“YOU STUPID WOMAN, FUCKING SAY SOMETHING!! HE'S GOING TO LEAVE! STOP HIM!” Fallon tries to run to herself, to Gale, desperate to intervene but there’s an unknown force holding her back. She thrashes against the force to no avail, screaming at herself over and over to stop her lover from leaving. At the very moment that Gale is about to take his leave, a sharp pain jolts through Fallon’s body, and the scene drifts away.

Fallon returns to consciousness with a start. Her breathing is heavy, she’s covered in sweat, and there’s something wet trickling down her arm. Fallon looks around wildly as she tries to get her bearings, and she’s almost instantly met with Astarion’s face. It doesn’t take long after that to figure out why her arm is wet; she’s bleeding.

“Sorry,” the vampire apologizes as he wipes his mouth on his arm. “You wouldn’t wake up, and you were thrashing about. I was unsure of what else to do, and I figured I woke you up from a dead sleep when I tried to bite you once before, so maybe it would work again?”

In any other situation, Fallon would laugh at the memory of the night she found out Astarion was a vampire, but any notions of humor are dead on arrival because Fallon is too busy trying not to have a panic attack. The suite around her feels like it’s getting smaller and making sure her body receives oxygen takes all of her strength. Even then, it doesn’t feel like enough. There’s an owlbear sitting on her chest and no matter what she does, it won’t move. Fallon closes her eyes, doing her best to shut the entire world out, instinctively curling into herself with her arms wrapped around her legs and her forehead on her knees.

Fallon can hear the sound of Astarion shuffling around. Not that she blames him, she wants to get as far away from herself as possible, too. The weight shifts on the mattress and, somewhere in the recesses of her mind, Fallon realizes that Astarion hasn’t distanced himself from her at all; on the contrary, he’s moved closer so he’s sitting on his knees in front of her. “Fallon?” He speaks her name gently. The last time she can recall Astarion speaking to her with such gentleness was after she convinced him not to complete The Black Mass once Cazador was defeated. Her friend gave up the sun and true freedom in favor of what was left of his humanity, humanity that one could argue he found again after spending time with Fallon and their companions, and Fallon had never been prouder of someone before.

The irony was not lost on Fallon that when she met Astarion, he was power-hungry, revenge-focused, and those around him were objects to be used as he saw fit so long as he survived. Whereas, he was the group’s moral compass most of the time who often disapproved of Astarion’s decisions.

Now, if you were to ask Fallon which of the men she’d traveled with had more of a moral compass than the other, he wouldn’t even make the top three. Scratch was higher on the list.

“Fallon, look at me.” His words are soft, but there is still the underlying tone that this is not a request. An order only amplified by his cold hand reaching forward, tucking his fingers under her chin and forcing her to look up. Fallon does as she’s told and stares back at Astarion, his red eyes full of concern for her. “I need you to breathe for me, darling,” Another soft statement that is not a request. “Don’t focus on anything else. Look at me, and breathe.”

It takes effort, keeping eye contact with the elf in front of her as she focuses on her breathing. Even direct eye contact feels too intimate for Fallon’s liking these days. Even so, the rest of the world falls away as she stares back at Astarion, trying to regain control. The stillness he exudes can only be described as preternatural. He never removes his fingers from under her chin or really even moves at all. After several attempts to breathe in through her nose and out of her mouth, Fallon regains control of her breathing, and she can feel her heart rate slowing as her body exits flight mode.

Fallon’s shoulders relax, and Astarion only moves when she is ready to uncurl herself from the fetal position. Even then, he does not go far, only shifting so he is sitting directly next to her on the bed, their thighs and legs still touching. The silence remains between them while Fallon relaxes, and several minutes go by before Astarion speaks. “How often does that happen?”

Fallon swallows hard. For a moment, she considers lying to her friend. Fallon is not really in the mood to receive more pitying looks from Astarion, but he’s already seen her at her most vulnerable, so there’s not much of a point.

“Every night,” She admits quietly, so only quietly someone with enhanced hearing (such as Astarion and herself) could hear her. “I was back on the docks.” Fallon explains, grateful that Astarion did not need any additional context to understand. After all, he was there when her life fell apart. Fallon forces herself to look at Astarion. His jaw is clenched, and the silent anger radiates off of his body as he lets out a long breath through his nose.

“We should have let him blow himself up when we had the chance.” The vampire’s words are cold and unforgiving, and Fallon flinches. The last time he spoke so coldly about another person in her presence, they were discussing Cazador.

“I was never going to let him.” They both knew that. Falling in love with him happened as naturally as breathing. By the time Elminster showed up to deliver Mystra’s orders, the inevitable had already happened. Fallon hated thinking about the moment she fell for him now, but that stupid wizard had her at the first “Hello!” after she pulled him out of that stupid portal.

“Do you regret it now? Not letting him go through with it?”

It is yet another moment where she could lie to Astarion, but it would be pointless. “You have no idea how much I wish I could regret it.” As much as Fallon wants to be filled with hate and regret when she thinks of him, she’s not, and that’s probably the exact reason he haunts her dreams so thoroughly. She glances over to the window of her suite, and it’s still dark out. Her best guess is that it’s not quite the middle of the night, but the sun can’t be more than an hour or so from rising.

Astarion looks like he has something else to say on the matter, but Fallon can’t talk about it anymore. Her attention is drawn to the now dried blood on her arm and she lifts her arm to Astarion. “When was the last time you ate? Might as well finish what you started, yeah?” If the vampire senses her deflection, he doesn’t push her, and Fallon is grateful for that. His expression softens and he offers Fallon a small smirk. “Just like old times.” He carefully takes her arm in his hands and positions his mouth over the open wound and bites down again.

Fallon closes her eyes and embraces the pain, her mind drifting back to the moment she offered to be Astarion’s personal buffett every couple of days; back when they were little more than acquaintances, and Astarion viewed her as someone to be used to ensure his survival.

”I wondered when you would come back for more.” He smirked at her.

Fallon stared at Astarion with a puzzled look on her face.“What do you mean?”

“Your offer. I’m surprised it took you this long to suggest it.” His answer only furthered Fallon’s confusion, so she just stared at him in silence, waiting for Astarion to elaborate. “Because you liked it, didn’t you? I felt the way your pulse quickened, I heard the way your breath hitched in your throat. The little moan you tried so desperately to suppress.”

Fallon raised her eyebrow at the vampire. “I think drinking my blood might have made you a little bit delusional.” She lied. Fallon barely knew Astarion, and from what she could tell, his ego was already quite inflated. Fallon had no intention of making it worse.

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, darling. I’ll come find you later tonight.”

Even now, Fallon has no plans to admit to Astarion that she enjoyed the sharp, icy pain that occurred when he bit her. There is no denying it’s an intimate gesture, willingly letting the vampire feed on her. It requires a level of trust that Fallon didn’t offer other people, and those other people were not actively partaking in an activity that could kill her if Astarion went too far. When Fallon feels herself becoming light headed, she reaches forward with her free hand and taps Astarion twice on his shoulder, just like she used to do. The vampire (thankfully) hadn’t forgotten their signal, and he pulls away from her instantly.

Astarion leans back against the headboard and offers her a sideways smile. “I’d forgotten how good you taste.”

Fallon snorts. “You don’t need to flatter me,” There’s an apple in her bedside table, she remembers, and she leans over to open the drawer to retrieve it. “I’ve already agreed to help you with whatever it is you came here for.”

“Oh yes, I’d almost forgotten in all of the…excitement,” Excitement was certainly one way to put it, Fallon thinks, and she stares at her friend expectantly. “As you know, I’ve been out traversing the Sword Coast in search of a way to get the sun back. I have a lead, but it’s not exactly local.”

Fallon sits up a little straighter. “Go on…”

“According to my sources, there’s a vampire coven in Asha, and they’re sunwalkers.”

“Asha?” Astarion nods in reply and Fallon lets out a low whistle. “You weren’t kidding when you said it’s not local.”

When Astarion said it wasn’t local, Fallon assumed he was going to drag her to Cormyr or Amn. It never even occurred to her that Astarion could be asking her to leave Faerun altogether. Asha, The City of Starlight, was located in the easternmost tip of the Faerun’s neighboring land to the northwest, Velrea. Though calling Velrea “neighboring” was a bit of a stretch, seeing as nearly a thousand miles of ocean separated Velrea from Faerun. Fallon dug through the archives of her brain to try and picture where exactly Asha was in relation to Faerun, and where the nearest port in Faerun to sale to Asha would even be. Though her highborn education was extensive, Fallon’s memory of geography was not the best. Though she did not need to be an expert in geography to know that it would take much longer than a month to get to Asha and back.

“I guess we’re not going to the Winter Solstice ball at Wyrm’s Rock then, are we?” She muses.

“Oh please, I don’t plan on leaving until after the holidays are over. You know me better than that. A full slate of soirees where people are guaranteed to worship the ground I walk on because I saved their lives? Like I’d miss that.” he laughs, and Fallon can’t help but laugh a little too because he’s right. She does know him better than that to assume he’d miss a good party.

“I remember a time when you once told me you hated being the hero.” Fallon teases, shaking her head.

“Yes, well, people can change you know,” he shrugs. “Besides, based on what I’ve observed, you my dear are in no state to depart for another adventure.”

Fallon scowls at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“What do you think it means, darling? When was the last time you went more than a day without nearly drinking yourself to death? Don’t bother lying to me either, because I do hear things from the others…I believe you referred to it as us “gossiping” about you last night.”

Fallon opens her mouth to argue, to tell him that she has absolutely gone more than a day without drinking herself into oblivion every night and their friends are wrong, too. Truth be told, she can’t give him an answer because she legitimately doesn’t remember. Fallon closes her mouth again with a huff, and Astarion smirks at her. “That’s what I thought.”

“So what do you suggest we do for the next month, then?”

“Well first of all, you need to sober up. Then I imagine we need to get you in the sparring ring with Wyll, because your sword is looking quite dusty in the corner over there.” Astarion nods in the direction of Fallon’s most prized possession: the sword she inherited from her father when he passed. Astarion was right. She hasn’t touched it since the day they saved the city. There hadn’t been a need for it. Not only has her living situation since saving the world been entirely gratis, but so has the food she ate and the alcohol she drank; and she rarely left The Elfsong unless one of her friends dragged her out. Needless to say, the pile of gold Fallon was rewarded a year ago was sitting in her vault at the bank, almost completely untouched.

“What about you? Don’t tell me that you’re battle ready, Astarion.” Fallon challenges.

“I’ve spent the last four months traveling across Faerun looking for answers, and it definitely wasn’t a walk in the park,” He counters and Fallon frowns again because, once again, Astarion is right. He’s probably seen battle much more recently than she has. “Besides, you don’t need to ask me to spar if you want me to put you on your back in a matter of seconds, darling. You only need to ask.” The wink he shoots her is gratuitous, but it makes Fallon smile nonetheless. Many things have changed since she met Astarion, but the vampire being an insufferable flirt? That was apparently forever. Fallon rolls her eyes. “Fine. Tell Wyll I’ll train with him.”

As if on cue, a sharp knock rings out against the wood of the door to her suite and Fallon nearly pulls a muscle in her neck at the speed with which she looked to the door and back at Astarion. The smirk remains on the elf’s face and Fallon just stares at him incredulously. “Did you fuckers plan this?”

“In a manner of speaking. I may have mentioned to Wyll that I was coming to see you, and I may have mentioned I had plans to get you out of this godforsaken tavern, and that it might be useful to me if you were in battle-ready shape. Wyll was all too happy to assist. You know how those hero types can be.”

“Bastards.” Fallon mutters to herself as she gets out of her bed and heads for the door, not even caring in the slightest that her legs were completely bare, or that she’d apparently slept in Astarion’s shirt. Wyll is far too cheerful when she opens the door for the hour of the morning it now is, and between the lack of sleep and her hangover, Fallon almost shuts it in his face. Still, she accepts the embrace from her friend anyway, because she missed him.

“Now Fallon, I’m not sure how much Astarion told you about why I’m here, but you will need to put on trousers before we proceed.” Wyll grins, and Fallon can’t help herself when she throws up her middle finger in Wyll and Astarion’s direction as she stomps towards her dresser to find pants.

“Nice to see our girl is still in there somewhere.” Astarion calls after her, and Fallon can’t help but smile.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 tav #female tav #astarion x tav #gale x tav #astarion x gale x tav #love triangle #angst #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 smut #astarion smut #astarion fanfic #gale fanfic #gale smut #slow burn

[cockatrice-writers-guild]

Contact

this takes place in the space au

warnings: swearing, fear

word count: around 4.8k

taglist: @autism-alley , @awkwardgtace , @tripodcat-gt

T-minus 10

“Could I ask you something, big guy?”

9

“Sure.”

8

“Are there other ways you hold the planet? It can’t always just be in your hands, right? That has to get tiring.”

7

“…well, sometimes I kinda…cup the planet to my chest. Like when I lay down. …or just…I don’t know…whenever.”

6

“Dear God, you are touch starved.”

5

“…touch starved?”

4

“Mmm...it means you crave physical affection.”

3

“Touch…,” I can sense the wistfulness in his voice. “I’ve seen the way some humans hold each other…I think it’s called a hug? And just…I don’t know, getting lost in someone’s arms for a while…it seems…really nice. I just…I wish there was some way for me to hug you, Mia, but…well, you know.”

2

“...maybe there is.”

1

“…what do you mean?”

Lift off.

There’s a giant that lives up in the cosmos who holds the world to prevent it from freezing over now that the sun’s dead. It's literally something out of a children’s story but the scientists have been working on this long enough to know that somehow, impossibly, it’s still the truth.

Weirder still is that this giant never asked for anything in return.

Until, that is, when a particularly tired intern got the shit scared out of them when the massive cosmic entity known as Jax popped into their head to quietly ask them if it would be okay to send their cranky janitor to space. And once the higher ups got word of it, they knew it was probably for the best not to say no to the giant who literally held the entire planet in his hands and started on it right away.

Of course, they could have said no. Jax knew that. I knew that. They didn’t know that. I guess they were just happy Jax hadn’t started asking for human sacrifices or something.

So that’s how I ended up here.

I’m in a ship and a bulky suit, watching the sky turn darker and darker as I leave the Earth’s atmosphere. The constant shake rattling through the ship is horrible and the jolt of the engine separating from the rocket is even worse. The ship stops shaking soon after but gradually, I can feel the sheer weight of gravity pushing me deeper and deeper into my seat as the vessel tries to escape the Earth’s pull. It’s almost agonizing in its intensity, the sounds and sights and feelings all working together to turn my body and brain effectively to mush but then finally, finally

the engines shut off and I’m left sitting there in the dead silence that follows, still so stunned from the trip that it takes a few moments too long to even bring myself to move.

And that was the easy part.

My legs feel like jello and both my back and neck feel stiff but still I wrestle my way out of the chair to go look out the window.

And the first thing I see is the Earth, an impossible sight of blues and greens and yellows all condensed and mixing together, masses of huge storm clouds passing over continents. The backdrop of stars and darkness make it almost glow.

And then I see something else.

Something that just about makes my heart stop beating.

As the Earth slowly, very slowly, gets farther and farther away, I can see that it’s not suspended in the star filled void of space like it’s supposed to be. Instead,

something

something so huge I can’t see where it begins or where it ends, something so huge my brain can’t even fully comprehend what I’m looking at,

something rests just below the planet, cupping it, holding it up in the cosmos

something flesh coloured

something warm

I’ve seen this before, when Jax projected himself into my head or…whatever the hell he did to me but seeing it here, now

It’s too much

It’s genuinely too much

And as the Earth gets smaller and the flesh surrounding it remains the same endless expanse, I find it harder and harder to stay calm.

My brain is screaming, screaming at me to get away but I can’t breathe and

instead I choke on my own spit, staring at the view as my breaths get harder and harder to control until I finally manage to turn around, pressing my back to the cool glass and instead focusing on the dull interior of the shuttle as I try to get my breathing back under control. I’m starting to sweat again and the insulation the suit provides isn’t helping. I try to take in every single detail of the room I’m trapped in, the grooves in the seats and the dull walls, the fluorescent lights and the panels and panels of buttons lining the main console, the screens and the sensors and very very distant hum of fans and other machinery quietly working away to keep me alive.

The constant beating in my chest as it finally starts to slow

As my vision stops dancing in front of me

As my head gradually stops swimming

And then I hear it, a call so sudden it causes me to jump.

“…Mia?”

Jax.

Jax

A being so fucking huge that the world is nothing more than a marble to him. Of course, I’ve seen him so many times before in the sky, his huge face stretching across the horizon thanks to his sheer size, an eye larger than the Earth completely engulfing it when I want to show him something. Even when he holds an arm out so I can see him better, the concept of him holding the planet is still something I can’t even begin to register.

And now I don’t have a barrier to protect me.

It doesn’t take long before I can feel tears streaming down my face as I hug my arms close and then closer.

“…Mia?”

Quieter now.

I can’t stifle a sob in time and somehow, somehow, I know he hears it.

“…I…I’m sorry, M.” He sounds pained and my heart pangs even as I slowly lower myself to the ground.

My friend.

This cosmic fucking giant is my friend.

I guess on some level I just never fully thought about what I was dealing with.

Jax is a giant, one so goddamn huge that any space program that wants to send something out has to let him know in advance so that his damn fingertips don’t block their flight paths.

He’s not human. He’s never been human but

“…do you want to go home?”

He’s tentatively whispering in my head like we’re equals, asking me questions, asking me what I want to do. There’s genuine distress in his voice. He wanted this more than anything and yet I know he’d give it all up for me. He’s…

“…Jax?”

A lengthy pause on his end. Then

“…Mia?”

I take in a few more gulps of air, staring at my now empty chair before I speak again.

“…give me a moment. This is…a little hard for me to deal with right now.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am.”

“…alright.”

Some time passes in silence, me eventually starting to run a hand up and down the material of my suit to try and ground myself before Jax hesitantly speaks again.

“…I…actually, there…might be something I can do to help.”

I try to focus on his voice. “…and what’s that, big guy?”

“Just…just give me a moment.”

“Okay.”

More silence for a long long time before,

“…Mia?”

“…Jax?”

“Look out the window.”

“…what?”

“Trust me. Please.”

There’s something about his tone that cuts the tension. There’s desperation, yes. But now there’s something else too. Something that almost sounds like excitement.

I frown, staring down the empty room before finally breaking. Damn it, now I’m curious. And I did trust him at the end of the day.

I slowly uncurl myself from the floor and move to peek out the window. And I see

Jax

He’s…

Oh my God he’s so far away right now.

I don’t even know how far away he is but I know it must be a lot because I can fucking see him now

All of him

He looks like a regular human floating a short distance away from the glass. I can finally see his fucking clothes properly, some kind of weird flowing orange-purple crop top and a long flowing skirt to go with it. He tentatively waves when my eyes meet his because of course he can see when my fucking germ sized eyes meet his planet sized ones over the how many millions of miles he just marathoned in his quest to make me feel more comfortable.

And goddammit I can’t believe it’s working.

He’s just…he’s so fucking sweet. And God, the face he’s making right now is so cute if he wasn’t the size of a goddamn galaxy, I’d squish his cheeks.

A half smile slowly worms its way onto my face and after a moment, he seems to relax too.

“Are you alright?” I know his mouth doesn’t move when he talks to me like this since he’s projecting his voice directly into my head but it’s still trippy to see, especially like this.

“I…think so.”

He smiles. “So now what? Do you want to just…talk like this for a while before you go back?”

“Dude. I didn’t go through months of space training and being questioned by the feds to just talk to you.”

The man’s smile grows.

-

After dancing around the subject for a while, I finally bite the bullet and leave the room to go put on a space suit even bulkier than the one I’m currently in. Jax is a constant nervous chatter in my head as I check the suit over and over and I try my best to reassure him even as my own heart rate steadily rises at the mere thought of what’s about to happen.

And once I’m finally done looking the suit over and over desperately for anything I can use to stall for just a second longer, I give up and make my way to the airlock.

There’s a palpable tension in the air now. I know exactly what’s on the other side of those heavy metal doors and it takes a second to even make myself bring a hand up to the panel.

I take a slow breath in

And a slow breath out

and then I press down.

The doors open and it takes only a second for the lack of pressure to kick in before I’m all but shot out into the black void that yawns open in front of me.

It takes some time to get my bearings now that gravity’s moot and for a while, I just try to stop spinning by any means necessary. Means in this case being flapping my arms and legs around until the universe finally stops spinning. At some point I can even hear Jax start to chuckle quietly in my head and it does not help.

But once I’m finally able to place myself, I take some time to take in my surroundings. Because God, they are stunning. The black void of space completely engulfs everything around me. It’s full of stars and what has to be a few unfamiliar planets all hanging in the empty space, dotting the dark backdrop with a massive array of colour and light. It’s…beautiful. Ethereal.

Completely silent.

There’s something quietly unsettling about it all, the way it doesn’t seem to end, the way I’m the only visible living being for miles, the way the silence is so palpable it makes my ears ring. Beautiful, yes but uncaring, lifeless

Lonely.

…what Jax must go through every single day of his life.

I can feel his gaze on my back, one that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand and my latent survival instincts kick into overdrive.

The stare of a giant who holds the world.

And now there’s no magical barrier. No ship. No nothing.

It’s just me.

For a long time, I stare into the cosmos aimlessly until finally, a small whisper starts up in my head, the abruptness of it making me jump.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

I swallow, trying to find my voice. “…yeah, it is.”

There’s a long pause and I try to find something else to say to stop focusing on how hard my heart is beating.

“I…don’t recognize any of these planets. Never-,” I choke on my air for a moment but force myself to continue, “-never saw one with three rings around it like that.”

Jax is silent for a long moment.

“…Mia…you don’t have to-”

“Where are we?”

“…what?”

“I…I don’t recognize any of these planets so…where exactly are we, big guy?”

He’s quiet for a moment longer before “…I travel around, I guess. Your system is…well…it’s not habitable anymore so you guys just travel with me now.”

You guys

The entire population of Earth is just ‘you guys’ to him.

The idea is so inconceivably, horribly absurd to me that I almost burst out laughing, instead choking on my own spit as I forget to breathe for a few moments too long.

“…Mia?”

That voice in my head again, even quieter than before because, and the realization helps to ground me just a little, he’s hesitant, because he doesn’t want to scare me further or, God forbid, because my reaction actually scared him.

There’s something so undeniably human about the way Jax carries himself. In spite of his ridiculous size and the power he holds over billions of comparatively minuscule lives, he acts like a person. We’re all just ‘you guys’ to him. Equals, friends. Hell, I’m actually his friend. It’s insane. All of this in insane but-

after taking a few sharp inhales and trying to get my breathing back under control, I finally bring myself to start really looking around. Not for the scenery but for my gigantic friend.

And finally, I see him floating in the distance just as before, one of his hands cupped and the other hanging loosely at his side. I know what’s cupped in that hand but try not to think about it, instead focusing on the man himself. He doesn’t say anything but cocks his head slightly at me instead.

I quietly squeeze my hands before I speak again. “…so, how do you want to do this?”

“…you were having trouble breathing, M.”

There’s this deadness in his voice that makes me wince. I ignore him and try again, fighting to keep the shake out of my voice.

“How do you want to do this?”

“…I don’t think this is a good idea.”

We stare at each other for a long moment before I raise a hand and beckon him forward.

“You’re shaking, Mia.” He sounds close to tears, now visibly upset as he hangs in the dead of space.

“I’ll get over it.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Yes, I will.”

He looks like he wants to argue more but instead tries something else.

“I don’t want you to do something you don’t want to do.”

“That’s great, Jax, but I want to do this.”

He looks away.

“…Jeez dude, do you even want to do this?”

He nods slightly after a long moment.

“Then?”

“…I don’t want to make you panic again. …or you know…throw up.”

“THAT WAS A ONE TIME THING!”

Jax actually laughs a bit at that and I frown at him.

“You’re an ass, you know that? Now get over here.”

“Mmm.”

“Mmm?”

“…I don’t know…”

“Jax, I swear to God.”

He stares at me.

I stare at him.

After an unbearably long silence I just start swimming towards him and he almost immediately starts back peddling away from me frantically.

“YOU ARE AFRAID OF ME!” I yell as I keep up the pace.

“I’M AFRAID OF WHAT I CAN DO TO YOU!” he practically wails as his legs kick away from me. “IT’S NOT THE SAME!”

“IT MIGHT AS WELL BE, YOU DRAMA QUEEN! GET OVER HERE!”

I try to swim after him for a bit longer before he becomes little more than a speck in the distance and I stop to catch my breath with a sigh. Unfortunately, with that no longer my main focus, the creeping dread of space starts to get to me again. Beautiful and desolate. Completely silent.

…

My ears start to ring.

…

I only have a few small meals that were packed in case anything goes wrong. I’m not sure how much oxygen I have left but I know it’s not enough to live on.

Stranded.

The infinite darkness all around me, closing in.

Closing in.

Closing in.

“…JAX!”

My voice comes out a strangled cry and the pale dot in the distance immediately freezes. “Mia?” He sounds concerned.

“Don’t go. Please.”

There’s a long period of silence before he speaks again. “Oh! Oh no, I’m sorry, Mia, I didn’t mean it like...you’re not- I wasn’t going to- I’m sorry I just-” He cuts himself off, taking some time to get his thoughts in order before he speaks again. “I’m sorry, I’m coming back. I won’t leave you, I promise.”

With that, the speck in the distance slowly grows until once again I can make out a person. I can feel distant relief seeing another living thing.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again.

“I…it’s ok, big guy.”

Jax watches me for a long moment before he speaks again. “I’ll do it.”

“Hmm?”

“I’ll come over to you and we can…touch.”

“Are you sure?”

He nods slightly.

“Okay.”

And so slowly Jax starts making his way over and as the figure of him grows and grows, a distant part of my brain starts screaming and after a second, Jax stops again.

“You’re scared again,” he says quietly.

I just use a now trembling hand to wave him over and he shakes his head.

“Mia, are you sure you want to do this? You really don’t have to force yourself. We can always just talk and I really appreciate you trying like this but-”

“Jax?” There’s a shake in my voice that I can’t quite fight down.

“…Mia?”

“Get over here.”

“…but I-”

I hold my arms out to him and he watches me for a long moment before slowly he starts moving again. His figure grows and grows in the middle distance but I remain frozen in the sky, arms held out in invitation, my heart beating faster and faster and my breaths struggling to catch up.

Jax pauses again. “…are you sure?”

Unable to form words, I just nod and Jax eventually starts moving again. The movement causes me to flinch and Jax stops, cocking his head slightly.

I’m about to beckon him again but

“…you…your hair is green and fluffy. You told me it’s dyed that colour and I think it really suits you.”

He’s whispering again. Continues his approach. It takes me a second to realize what he’s doing but as soon as it clicks, I close my eyes and focus on his words, a small smile starting to grace my lips at the familiarity.

“Your eyes are brown. Kind of a dark brown like…hmm…really dark chocolate.”

That gets a small chuckle out of me and he returns it in kind. There’s a noticeable change in the atmosphere now, like I’m starting to get pulled into a gravitational field. I know what’s causing it but just try to focus on the voice in my head.

“You’re…uh…you…said I was white so…”

I cough to warm up my throat. “…you can just say brown, big guy. It’s fine.”

“Brown then! And you’re…,” he stops to think about it for a second, “…uh…kinda skinny and muscular at the same time? I can’t see your body through the suit but I’ve seen you on Earth and you’re pretty strong, M.”

“Thanks.”

He hums in acknowledgement. “I…can’t see your clothes right now either, M but your…space suit I think it’s called?”

“Yeah.”

“Space suit then. It looks…well…um…”

“You can just say it looks like shit. It’s fine.”

Jax snorts at that. “I mean…I’ve seen worse. And…right now, your eyes are closed and you’re shaking badly but I know that you’re trying and well…”

There’s a long pause before with a jolt that makes my heart jump, I can feel something plush below my feet. I don’t open my eyes just yet.

“…there we go,” Jax whispers.

And so I slowly take a seat.

Take a deep, deep breath.

And finally,

open my eyes

And now I’m here.

Sitting on what it takes me way too long to recognize as the pad of a finger so massive it dwarfs the Earth.

I can’t really make out anything besides the massive black void that makes up what must be his pupil, stretching on and on in every direction like the night sky. Every time he blinks, I can hardly understand what’s happening and on some level, I’m distantly horrified as I stare back at him, the frozen death of space warded off only by the heat rising out of the endless stretch of flesh that makes up the pad of his finger. Every single groove of his fingerprint is like a bottomless chasm to me, my legs dangling off of one as I sit partially rooted to the surface below.

He blinks again and the night sky eclipses with it.

I’m literally nothing to this man.

Nothing at all and the fear is almost enough to make me want to gag but

He’s whispering quietly in my head again too, reassurances, using a voice I can comprehend and even as I can feel my eyes start to glaze over in fear, I can’t fight the smile that’s making its way onto my lips at the familiar voice muttering quietly in my head.

Because in spite of literally everything, he doesn’t want to scare me.

I know this man and he knows me.

Impossibly, I’m safe here

I finally force myself to move and use a shaking hand to rub the surface below me and the voice in my head stops in an instant, replaced with a small sigh as the massive eye in front of me closes in contentment.

“Oh,” is all he says after a long period of silence.

“Oh?” I finally make myself ask.

I hear a small sniff in my head and after a moment, he opens his eyes and my view is replaced by a black ocean suspended in the air in front of me.

He sniffs again and in that moment I want nothing more than to wrap my arms around him and never let go.

Which is…beyond impossible here but still, heart pounding, I hold my arms out to him instead.

He watches me for a long time, a blink sending what must be several oceans of water floating into the atmosphere but I hold my ground until finally the man speaks again.

“…I’m…not sure that’s a good idea, M.”

I just wave my arms at him again and he lets out a watery chuckle.

“I’m too big, Mia.”

“And I’m still waiting, big guy.”

“…I don’t want to hurt you.”

He sounds a little desperate so I finally drop my arms with a sigh. “Fine. In that case just stand still.”

“…what?”

“Trust me.”

He laughs at that. “…alright.”

That out of the way, I make myself stand up and examine the massive eye in front of me for a moment longer before I kick off of Jax’s finger and start swimming through the air.

“…uh, Mia?”

“Shush. I’m trying to prove a point here.”

Jax watches me swim through the air for an impressively long amount of time before he finally speaks again. “…if you’re trying to get somewhere, I could help you out?”

I look around and see that I’m basically exactly where I started.

“…fine.”

Jax laughs. “Where are you trying to go?”

“Just…your face I guess.”

“…oh.”

There’s silence for a long moment before everything starts moving again, the giant black globe rotating until it changes to grey and then a stark white, finally settling on a massive patch of flesh that must be the skin between Jax’s eyes. He then leans forward until the bridge of his nose lays a short distance away.

“Is that okay?” he asks quietly.

And I feel my heart warm up at that. And with that I can feel my hands start to twitch. Why is he so fucking cute? IT’S NOT FUCKING FAIR. I CAN’T EVEN SQUEEZE HIM LIKE- “I…yeah, actually. Thanks, big guy.”

I hear him hum in acknowledgment and literally want to kill him. He’s an incomprehensibly huge cosmic giant and it’s not fair not fair not fair not-

I start swimming towards him almost frantically and finally, FINALLY

I reach the man’s face and all but throw myself at him, grabbing as much of his skin as I can and rubbing the glass of my helmet against him.

“You…this is more…aggressive than I thought it would be. I…,” he lets out a small laugh, “…is this normal?”

I let out a small squeak and continue squeezing him and he chuckles in response. “You alright there, M?”

“No.” I finally manage.

“No?”

He sounds a little distressed so I try to clarify. “Jax, I’m fine. I just-,” I squeeze handfuls of flesh for as long as I can manage before letting go and wrapping my arms over as much of him as I physically can, “-GOD, I CAN’T.”

“You can’t?” he sounds more worried now and before I get worked up about that too, I try to calm myself down a little.

“Jax?”

“Mia?”

“You’re being fucking adorable right now and humans do this thing sometimes where if something is too cute it makes us want to hurt or kill them.”

“…so you’re trying to…kill me?”

“…uh,” I feel my arms tingle and know in my heart that I want to punch him repeatedly and also throw him into the sun, instead settling for hugging him tighter. “…not actually but…yes?”

“…oh? You…don’t feel like you’re trying to kill me though. You just seem a little…,” he cuts himself off to hum a little when I try to nuzzle him again, “…rough.”

“That’s ‘cause I have self-control.”

“Oh.”

There’s a long period of silence where I continue trying to awkwardly cuddle Jax to death and he enjoys the physical touch. Eventually though

“…we’re still friends then? You’re not actually trying to kill me?”

“Jax, oh my God, you’re killing me here.”

There’s a long pause and eventually I just frown.

“…We’re still friends. I’m not trying to kill you,” I deadpan and he chuckles.

“That’s a relief.”

He’s humming and crying and I’m trying to tear his skin off his body when something occurs to me.

“…wait, big guy.”

“Hmm?”

“You said you wanted to hug me too, right?”

“…Mia, the pad of my thumb is bigger than your planet.”

“So? I trust you.”

“You really shouldn’t.”

“Be untrustworthy then. See what happens.”

“…hmm.”

“Hmm?”

“…maybe some other time.”

“…what do you mean by that?”

Jax just chuckles and I frown.

“Hug me, man. It’s why I’m here.”

“I don’t want to kill you, Mia.”

“Then you won’t.”

I go back to squishing handfuls of his skin together in the silence that follows and eventually I feel more than see something approaching, the way the atmosphere seems to be physically moving away from some unknown threat. I try to focus on the movement of my hands against his skin instead.

“…Mia,” Jax finally says, “Your heart is-”

“Keep going.”

Jax is quiet for a long long time and I eventually drop the skin with a sigh. “If you want to touch me, Jax, keep going.”

Jax doesn’t immediately respond to this and so I try to soothe him by running a hand up and down the mass of flesh in front of me.

And finally

“Are you sure?”

“I am.”

More silence now.

I’m about to say something more when suddenly something bumps into the back of my helmet and propels me forward slightly, pressing me almost tenderly into the warm skin in front of me. Jax doesn’t say anything and for a long time and so neither do I, wrapping my arms around what I can of him once more as we soak each other in in the silence.

And as I feel the trembles running through what I assume to be Jax’s finger finally start to die down and I settle into him, I raise my head slightly and look to the general direction of where one Jax’s eye might be, trying to find my voice one more

“Hey,” I whisper to him.

“…hey,” he whispers back.

#tldr jax finally cashes in on his good boy points to launch his best friend into the stratosphere #I Was Supposed To Finish This By Like March RIP #jax and mia #space au #ocs #the rooster crows #(please don't tag as g/t or with any g/t tags) #thanks for reading!

[starlightshadowsworld]

Ok so I was watching a danganronpa animatic of an AU where Kokichi and Shuichi are soulmates and of course my brain goes on to think about the themes of trust and love that Kokichi and MAKOTO have (for some reason. I love my boy too much I guess) and was mentally thinking of a scene in some kind of "Makoto is in V3 instead of Shuichi but the events of canon still happened" AU where Kokichi is, y'know, reaching his breaking point where he can't figure out how to stop the killing game and Makoto, y'know, he understands both during this killing game (because he was trying to stop it too or at least keep everyone alive) and all the other previous ones and in private tries to offer him support and tells him how he thinks Kokichi's a good person and he trusts him and loves him (I don't really care in what way this is taken as. Maybe aggressive support?) and Kokichi, of course being at a breaking point and having trust issues, casts him aside kind of angrily because Makoto seems like he trusts people really easily and has probably never felt betrayal like Kokichi had and therefore doesn't believe him when he says all those positive things about him and Makoto SHUTS THAT DOWN HARD. Like he pulls out the determined slightly angry positivity (I don't know if I want to describe it like that but I don't know how else) where it's just like

Makoto is standing tall, his shoulders are tense, and his finger's in Kokichi's face like: Hey, no. I love you and trust you. You don't know anything about me so I will tell you how many times I have been betrayed by friends just because it was convenient and they never or barely gave a half-ass apology. The girl who I thought I could trust to have my back in a situation JUST LIKE THIS WITH THE BEAR AND EVERYTHING tried to set me up for murder. Another girl sacrificed me to find "the truth" on multiple occasions and barely gave me an apology after I was almost starved and had a ton of injuries. I had to try to kill someone because they wouldn't just talk to me instead of attempting to commit mass murder. So when I say I trust and love you I mean it. I may say it often but that doesn't mean I take it lightly. I can't force you to accept those feeling but please do anything but deny or take them lightly. Because I DO love and trust you so much.

Kokichi is fucking BALLING in my head.

Anyway I just wanted to share that since it was on the brain and this is usually my go-to blog for sharing my random DR day dreams and ideas with. Whenever I pop in anyway.

(Sidenote: Protag switch AUs (or even detective switch AUs with Shuichi and Kyoko) between Makoto and Shuichi are so underrated. I don't write fan fiction so I hope and pray everyday that one day I will stumble across one with the quality of the A Change in Variables but that might be wishful thinking)

Oh damn.

That's such a cool idea.

Agreed I love all the protags, Makoto just holds a very special place in my heart.

The way I envision what you've said is that Makoto takes the place off Rantaro or at least plays a similar role to him.

As the Ultimate Survivor, aka someone who's survived the game before and remembers.

Possibly going undercover and not letting anyone else go through this shit again.

The reason for him being there to the outside world could be that Tsumugi wanted a guest star.

And you know having the Ultimate Hope would get people watching.

Makoto talking down Kokichi would be such an interesting scene because he'd be one of the only people who don't hate him.

And would be willing to listen and stand up to him.

Also because Makoto knows what he's doing, he can see through Celest I guarantee he can see through Kokichi.

And it would throw Kokichi off because he's designed this whole thing to have everyone against him, he'd got the perfect plan.

But that's Makoto for you, unpredictable is basically his middle name.

#makoto naegi #kokichi ouma #danganronpa v3 #danganronpa v3 killing harmony #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #danganronpa

[whetstonefires]

Do you think Itachi would make a good Wei Wuxian? One could substitute Jiang Cheng for Sasuke.

....oh my god it returneth. After how many months????

Okay. Okay, no I don't. Hard no. He could not do it. I can see the shared bridge, the 'to save you I will contravene the laws of gods and men and embrace my own destruction, and I will not consult you on the subject.'

But they were addressing fundamentally different types of problem, and crucially: Itachi's plan was someone else's idea.

Itachi is an inflexible person who, however, was brought up to understand that the demands of authority figures (the decisions of adults, I will never get over the clear retcon making him thirteen at the crucial juncture) are immovable boundaries that you have to problem-solve within.

Wei Wuxian is an extremely flexible person, who understands rules as recommendations or requests being made of him by people whom he may or may not bother to accommodate.

Itachi is a weapon and a child soldier, and did mass murder and betraying-his-brother-to-protect-him because someone cornered him into it.

He shows some signs of willfulness, under enough stress, but he isn't creative. Maybe he could have been and those aspects of his character just got shut down and failed to develop to cope with the trauma of murdering people when you're six, because he was a sensitive child and couldn't afford to stay that way and that explains so much about him. But he's just not. There is no way he could or would be Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian has a lot of childhood trauma too, but it's almost the opposite in type; he makes his choices in a corner too, but they're his own solutions, which nobody else in the world intended him to make or could even have predicted. (Except the mass murder when the Jins started pulling shit, by then they could have and should have called that.) Even inasmuch as he becomes a weapon, and inasmuch as he subordinates himself to Jiang Cheng, all he does is close off options for himself.

And he acts above all voluntarily--even when he's reacting in the moment in ways he's going to regret when he has time to think, even when it's painful and awful and self-destructive, it's all done of his own will.

If you put Wei Wuxian in Itachi's position, he would see it as a people problem and try to solve around the people. The politics are deliberately insolubly awful, and Wei Wuxian is not politically minded, but Wei Wuxian simply would not accept 'kill your own sect because if they start a war they'll die anyway and innocent people will be caught in the crossfire and it will be your fault, but if you save the day by setting yourself up as a supervillain your favorite person can live' as a reasonable premise.

Taking all the hate on himself is something he'd be willing to do but the rest of it...

He would kidnap tiny Jiang Cheng and run, and let the grownups figure out their own shit, or he'd invade an Uchiha leadership meeting and speak up uninvited, or he'd try to expose MadaTobi as an outside agitator, or he'd concoct an elaborate Danzo-assassination scheme, or he'd sneak into the Hokage's office and be like, gramps i got some abnormally fucked up orders even for ANBU, is this you and if it is what the fuck?

Or various other things, depending on his specific relationships with the specific adults on the board. Like Itachi he's bad at asking for help, but he's also bad at giving in. Wei Wuxian even having parents makes him a different kind of guy a little bit, so a scenario where he's convinced to kill them is hard to frame, but also pretty much out of the question. Where is jyl in all this.

I don't think a Danzo type of guy would try to use a Wei Wuxian type of kid in this way in the first place, but anyway.

Wei Wuxian would look at the proposed 'solution,' deliberately contrived to be acceptable because every other outcome was even worse or impossible, and refuse to bite. He kobayashi-maru-breaks himself into his bullshit, that's one of his hallmarks, that's basically the opposite problem-solving style of what gets Itachi into his long ruin.

Itachi meanwhile, in the scenario that his Sasuke was clan heir and he wasn't for some reason, still wouldn't consider crippling himself so Sasuke could reach his full potential.

Itachi in Wei Wuxian's position would go in and start killing Wens, probably including Wen Ning because he was there and would not be given time to defect (if he even would in the absence of Wei Wuxian having tipped the scales by making a good impression previously, we don't know) and stop when he had a corridor out.

And then he'd find somewhere safe to put Sasuke, and the fact that his brother was no longer fit to engage in high-level ninja fights would be 1) a great validation for his 'don't get dead' agenda 2) on some level something he'd envy, though I don't think he'd spend any time with that thought since obviously his power is their most valuable asset, for the surviving.

It would be better if Sasuke could also defend himself but his individual distress at being ninja-disabled wouldn't be a thing to solve, just kinda push through. There are no more Uchihas left to lead so what does it matter.

If Itachi somehow wound up seeking safe harbor with Tsunade, he'd be supportive of Sasuke/Jiang Cheng's grim determination to recover no matter what awful medical interventions it took, but having her rip out his chakra system for Sasuke, or whatever, wouldn't really be on the radar. He'd agree if Sasuke and Tsunade both wanted it, but that wouldn't happen and isn't the same thing anyway.

I also don't think it's particularly likely Itachi would be able to develop a new branch of zombie mysticism under any conditions. He's creepy but he's not committed to it the way some of his colleagues are, and like I said before his creativity is nothing much to speak of.

These two went with roughly similar 'solutions,' sure, but to wildly different problems. They would not make each other's choices.

#ask #hoc est meum #ramblebrambleamble #return of the mdzs naruto character swappage #offspring of the jane bennet cinematic universe #guy whose ability to exercise his own judgment has been systematically crippled #cannot stand in for guy who will not STOP from exercising his own judgment #even in places and scenarios where nobody thinks there are decisions left to be made #naruto #mdzs #fun ask #s;lkjakfl;dfd; #meta

[icwasher]

THE DRAGONS WE SLAY

My entry for this year's @inklings-challenge on Team Chesterson! This was my first year doing this challenge, and though I don't usually write intrusive fantasy, I'm very glad I got put on team Chesterson because it made me step outside my comfort zone.

The story is set in 1895, and is loosely based on the Dragonology Book. It follows seven young Dragonologists as they are assigned to travel to the United States to investigate a disturbance in the world of dragons. The story can be read after the "read more" line.

Word Count: 3625

Nora rubbed her forehead, squinting at the figures Tomas had drawn up. “Explain it again, will you?”

Tomas nodded and pointed to a long number. “This represents the number of dragons counted in North America in 1885. And here–” he moved his finger down “is the number counted this year. The amount has dropped significantly in the past ten years, and we suspect it’s connected to the romanticization of dragon-slaying that has surfaced recently. And here are the numbers compared to the population of dragons in China, England, and South America.” His finger moved in a circular direction around the numbers. “The Dragonologists are worried this ideal will spread to other countries and result in a mass murder of dragons, and eventually several of the species will go extinct from such killings.”

Saanvi frowned from her position sprawled on the chaise longue, her thick black hair tumbling over the armrest. “What’s romantic about killing dragons?” she asked. “If a man wanted my devotion, the worst way to receive it would be to kill a dragon.”

“There are many stories centered around young knights receiving a princess’s hand by slaying a dragon,” said Tomas. “Such stories are often told to children, and those ideas could have set off a chain reaction resulting in an idea that killing a dragon would result in fame and riches. And, unfortunately, the people of the United States have only supported such delusions.”

“Does Theo know all of this?” asked Nora.

Tomas nodded. “I informed him of it before this meeting.”

Saanvi sat up. “Where is Theo? Didn’t he say the meeting would begin at seven?”

“Did he?” asked Nicolas, who had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the whole conversation. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“You’re here, though,” said Tomas. “You must have known when to come.”

“Saanvi got me right before it started,” Nicolas said with a raised-brow smile, his hands pressed in a steeple. 

Nora rolled her eyes and settled into her chair, watching the door carefully. It wasn’t like Theo to be late, especially for a meeting he had said was “vitally important”. He had probably been held up by someone at the headquarters, but there was always a chance that something else could have happened.

Thankfully, the door opened and Theo walked in only moments later, his suit unbuttoned and hat placed crookedly on his head. He smiled at the room and dropped a stack of books onto his desk. Tomas perked up, shutting the journal he had so carefully recorded the dragon population in, and sized up the titles of the books Theo had brought in. “Children’s stories?”

Theo nodded. “All about dragons. Almost impossible to get my hands on too. The librarian didn’t want a grown man taking away what could be used for curious children.”

He took off his hat and suit coat, hooking them gently on the coat rack. Underneath the black wool of his suit, he wore a gray and blue waistcoat in paisley designs, subtle enough not to distract the eye. “Did you discuss anything important before I arrived?” he asked as he lowered himself onto the desktop, bracing his hands against the dark lacquered wood. 

Tomas shook his head. “I filled them in on the current situation, but otherwise we spoke of nothing important.”

Theo nodded thoughtfully. “And Khepria isn’t here?”

“Khepria isn’t here?” asked Nicolas from the floor where he had been painstakingly sketching the grandfather clock in the corner. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Theo gave him a raised eyebrow and turned back to Tomas. “Did she tell you why she isn’t coming?”

“She said nothing to me,” said Tomas. “Nora?”

Nora wished she had an answer to give, but she didn’t, and her head shake was met with a sigh. “Does anyone know where Khepria is?”

Just as Saanvi opened her mouth as if to answer, the door opened and Khepria entered, her many braids swinging over her shoulders as she not-so-gracefully set down the parcel she had been carrying. “Next time you tell me to pick up your orders, Saanvi, don’t neglect to mention that your two pickups are ten miles apart.”

Saanvi smiled nervously. “Sorry?”

Khepria pressed her lips in a thin line. “You owe me a drink at the bar.”

“Deal.” Saanvi picked up the parcels and flashed a smile in Khepria’s direction. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Khepria sat down in her usual seat, the green wool chair right next to the fireplace. When Nora had asked her why she didn’t get hot sitting so close to the fire, Khepria had just said with an annoyed sneer that it reminded her of Egypt, where she had grown up. Nora supposed it made sense; England and Egypt had very different climates, though she had never been to Africa.

Theo clapped his hands together, snapping everyone’s attention to him. “Dr. Drake has asked us to do something for him,” he said. 

“I don’t like where this is going,” whined Nicolas.

Saanvi slapped him on the shoulder. “Hush!”

Theo smiled appreciatively. “Thank you, Saanvi. Now, as I was saying, Dr. Drake has proposed something to me, which is partially the reason I was late. As you probably know, the people in the United States have recently been very eager to kill the dragons there, as it has become a symbol of heroism to slay a beast that–though it has little effect on the villages nearby–is in an area close to a town or a heavily populated working site.” He paused to take a breath. “Of course, the Society is horrified by these actions, and they wish for someone to travel to the United States and take care of this problem.”

“And you volunteered us, didn’t you,” said Khepria flatly. 

Theo took a deep breath. “Well, yes–”

“Oh, come on!” cried Saanvi. She threw up her hands and gave Theo an impressive glare. “We’ve gone on two missions in the past three months. And all of them have been overseas! Couldn’t you have gotten us an assignment a little closer to home?”

“This mission is more important than patrolling the woods for knuckers,” Theo said, his eyes boring into Saanvi’s. “Dr. Drake even has reason to think that the division of the society in the United States has been corrupted, or that there are spies working for the Dragonologists and using classified information to kill dragons. The implications of this are horrendous. Just imagine if the children here grow up thinking that dragons are creatures to be slain. Would you want that?”

Nora felt Theo’s words sink in. He had a way of making others’ arguments feel petty, though Nora knew that wasn’t what he intended. Saanvi flushed and turned away. “When do we leave?” she asked.

Theo smiled. “Ten days,” he said, clasping his hands together. “We just have to wait for Nikandr to arrive.”

Nora felt her head turn sharply to give him an expression of shock and anger she didn’t think was possible, and in her peripheral vision saw the others do the same. Khepria was the first one to speak.

“Are you out of your mind!” she shouted, her hand flying in the air so fast it looked like a blur. “Nikandr is the worst possible addition to this expedition.”

“As if it wasn’t already bad enough,” Saanvi added.

Nicolas crossed his arms, all of his limbs in roughly the same position. “Really Theo?”

Nora felt an obligation to speak as well, though she tried to fashion her question with a bit more tact than the others had shown. “Are you sure this is the best idea?” she asked quietly. “Nikandr may be smart, but it hasn’t gone well when we’ve had him join us in the past.”

Theo looked at the ground. “It wasn’t my idea. Dr. Drake would like Nikandr to have some practice working in a group he himself is not in charge of. Submitting to authority isn’t his strong suit, apparently.”

“I think we all knew that already,” said Khepria, and Nora had to nod. 

“Nevertheless,” said Theo optimistically, seemingly ignoring Khepria’s comment and Nora’s agreement, “he will be joining us and we will treat him with respect, no matter what he does. Understood?”

The group nodded, and Theo pressed his hands together excitedly. “I suppose that’s all for today,” he said. “I’ll purchase our tickets. Prepare to leave for the United States!” 

It took them a little over a week to arrive, and by the time they made it to Virginia, Theo had just about lost all patience with Nikandr. 

It wasn’t that the man didn’t have manners, or didn’t know how to conduct himself in public. He was a polite fellow when he desired. Unfortunately, those wishes did not seem to appear often. 

Nikandr stood a few feet away now, his blonde hair framing his lightly tanned face. Tomas was next to him, and they were arguing about something. Tomas seemed to be losing.

Theo winced as Nikandr made what Theo assumed to be a rather clever jab and Tomas flushed. Tomas may be the smartest person Theo had ever met, but he tended to be rather unpracticed in the art of insulting others. Which, Theo supposed, was a good thing to be bad at, but insults were Nikandr’s specialty, and Theo knew that such wordplay would leave Tomas feeling unintelligent. He felt for his friend, and if he thought he’d be able to keep Nikandr from being so unkind, he would walk over right now and pull the man aside for a talk, preferably one that would leave Nikandr blushing as hard as Tomas.

Theo shook the thoughts from his head. No, that wasn’t the way to do things. He would continue his method, one he had assured Nora would work the night before when she had stomped into Theo’s room and issued a loud complaint about Nikandr’s behavior. Theo had been confident then, assuring her that all things would work out. But now, seeing how Nikandr squashed Tomas with just his little finger, he wasn’t so sure. 

As Tomas hurried away from Nikandr’s presence Theo got closer, until both young men stood next to each other at the railing. Theo glanced carefully at Nikandr. “What were you and Tomas talking about.”

He tried to keep his tone jovial, but Nikandr must have sensed that Theo was pretending because he laughed and said, “I’m sure it won’t take you long to figure out.”

Theo frowned. “You know, the rest of the team is petitioning to have you sent back to England.” 

They weren’t. Theo had made it clear that Nikandr was staying through the whole mission. But a little intimidation couldn’t hurt.

Nikandr shrugged. “Then send me back.”

“I’m not going to do that.”

This made Nikandr laugh. “And why is that?”

Theo faced the water, watching the port grow closer. He squinted his eyes against the wind and said, “I believe that you can learn to work with the others. Stay long, and you’ll learn that we’re in need of fresh perspectives.”

“You’re just reaching for words.”

“Maybe.” Theo shrugged. “I just want you to know that you’ll have a place in this crew no matter what. Don’t forget it.” He clapped Nikandr on the back and made his way to the other side of the boat, where he could see Nicolas’s tall frame dancing to the band on the deck. 

Theo made his rounds, engaging in short conversations with his entire crew until he finally came to Nora, who leaned against the rail, her chestnut curls pinned back in a loose twist at the nape of her neck. A few strands of hair had escaped, and they blew in the wind, dancing with the currents. Theo settled himself next to her, watching her eyes roam the tops of the waves.

“Are you looking for something in particular?” he asked, and Nora shook her head. “I’m just watching,” she said, turning to smile at Theo. “Watching and waiting.”

“Aren’t we all,” murmured Theo as Nora turned back to the ocean, her brow furrowing in concentration. The sudden urge to reach out and smooth the wrinkles between Nora’s brow came over Theo’s body, and his hand twitched. He smiled to disguise the movement. “The captain says we’ll reach port in about half an hour. When we do, be ready to leave. I’ve already told the others, but if you would make sure Nicolas is prepared . . .”

Nora laughed. “I can do that.”

Theo smiled. “Thank you.”

Saanvi kept next to Nicolas as Theo asked around about areas heavy with dragons. A few sailors laughed at him and said that lads who went looking for a kill would be roasted, but several people gave helpful advice and pointed the group towards a town in the rural parts of the state. Theo bought train tickets, and they all crammed into a train compartment.

The ride began in silence. Tomas pulled out a book, Nora went through her bag, and Khepria spent the first thirty minutes with her eyes pressed closed. Then Theo turned to Nikandr and asked, “Do you miss Russia?”

Saanvi relished the momentary look of shock that crossed Nikandr’s face, but the boy shook himself off only a second later. “A bit,” he said, shrugging. The display of indifference was convincing, but Saanvi could see through the show. He did miss his home, a feeling Saanvi herself understood very deeply. She had lived in London for the past five years, but almost every day she wished she was back in India, wrapped in jewel-toned silks with her mother and father and siblings. But she had left them for a different life, and though she missed home, she didn’t regret her decision to come to London.

“What is Russia like?” asked Nicolas. He shook his light brown hair. “I hear it’s cold.”

“It is,” said Nikandr. “You get used to it after a while, though.”

“Why did you leave?” asked Nora. She seemed genuinely interested, and Saanvi thought she saw Theo glance over with approval. Saanvi recalled that Nora and Khepria had been the most resistant to Theo’s plan to include Nikandr in their group. Nora had told Saanvi that Theo had been insistent, even after the voyage on the ship, during which Nikandr had been rather horrible. 

Nikandr tapped his fingers on the armrest of his chair. His blue eyes were pointed at the floor, seemingly intent on the interlocking pattern of the rug. Then he said, “Russians aren’t too keen on the whole Dragonology venture. Tsar Nicholas is vehement that the sciences be kept strictly to the government, and that common folk shouldn’t dabble in them.”

Saanvi got the sense that such a statement was an oddity coming from Nikandr. She smiled kindly, and for a moment, Nikandr seemed to give her a similar expression. Then he turned to the window, his pointed nose facing the glass. 

Nicolas sighed deeply. “Will we arrive soon?” he asked, his voice almost a whine. Saanvi laughed and elbowed him. “We only just got on the train,” she said. “Distract yourself or something.”

“Distracting myself is a feat I don’t think I’ve managed to accomplish yet.”

Khepria opened one eye and raised the corresponding brow. “Yet you always seem to get distracted.”

Even Nikandr laughed, though it was quiet, and he continued to look away. But Theo seemed to brighten, and even Tomas looked up from his book. Perhaps Theo has been right. Perhaps including Nikandr was the right decision.

Nora wished she hadn’t packed so many things as she carried her bag through the station. It had been a horrible decision to bring all her equipment, and Theo had told her that she should pack light. But she had insisted that she would need everything and was regretting that decision now as her shoulder began to ache.

“They’re saying that the dragons have been attacking,” said Theo as they made their way across the fields. “I have a hard time believing that, and if there have been dragon attacks, they must have been provoked.”

Nikandr raised an eyebrow. “You have a hard time believing there have been dragon attacks?”

Theo nodded. 

Nikandr laughed derisively. “Then that smoke must be from a bonfire.”

Theo’s head snapped in the direction Nikandr pointed. Indeed, a column of black smoke rose from the fields nearby, drifting through the wind. Nora was surprised she hadn’t picked up the scent before. It was one she had smelled more often than she wished to admit. 

“Tomas?” asked Theo.

Tomas cocked his head. “It certainly looks like dragon smoke. The color is too dark to be from a typical campfire, and it has the proper scent. We can only be certain if we check.”

Theo gestured to Nikandr. “Lead the way.”

Nikandr bowed in Theo’s direction. “Nothing would please me more.”

Nora sighed as they turned to the smoke, groaning as she anticipated the ache in her shoulder and back. 

By the time they arrived, Khepria’s shirtsleeves were stuck to her arms with sweat and her face dripped with the liquid. She flipped her braids from one shoulder to the net for the millionth time, feeling a faint breeze on her skin from the lack of weight. Then the heat pressed back down on her.

She may have said she enjoyed the heat of Africa, but she had grown far too accustomed to the coolness of London. The others looked worse off, especially Nikandr, who had shed his red wool coat and had rolled his shirtsleeves up. Nicolas had taken off his teal waistcoat, and Nora’s face was flushed deep red. She grunted as she let her bag drop to the ground. Khepria decided she didn’t want to know how heavy the thing was.

“This is definitely the work of a dragon,” said Tomas. He was the only one who looked unaffected by the heat, but that may have been because he was only dressed in a thin white shirt and trousers instead of the suits the other boys wore, and the vests and skirts the girls had donned. 

In front of them lay a scar, a village burnt to the ground. The grass around the village was scorched and gone. Khepria saw Nora crouch down and take a vial from her bag. She filled it with ash and set a cork in the top before sticking it back with her supplies. 

Theo looked the most mournful of them all. He did have the strongest ideals, and Khepria figured that the broiled bodies strewn about the ground pained him. Saanvi had her head turned away, and Nicolas looked serious for once. Even Nikandr had lost his usual cockiness. 

Theo stepped forward and kneeled next to the burnt body of a little girl. He touched one of the intact fingers. “We should bury them,” he said in a whisper, his voice lifted by the bitter wind. Nicolas nodded, a sharp movement that Saanvi copied. Tomas, who had been pulling the handcart with their bags, set down the handles and began searching the carnage.

Khepria joined them a moment later. She assumed they were looking for a shovel or something similar, and when Nora held up a slightly charred shovel her suspicions were confirmed. Theo took the shovel and began to dig a grave. Soon, the others joined with their own shovels. Those who didn’t have any gathered the bodies, dragging them to the newly dug graves. 

Khepria’s hands had never felt dirtier, yet some invisible force made her continue. She didn’t know if it was Nicolas’s smile or Tomas’s constant badgering or Theo’s unwavering energy, but whatever it was gave her strength until the final bit of dirt was laid on the final grave. Khepria heaved a deep sigh and felt whatever had kept her going wither away until she was an empty husk of herself. 

They had spent all night burying the village, and the sun had just begun to paint brushstrokes of orange and pink on the horizon. Theo turned to Tomas. “Is there a prayer for the dead?” he asked, his voice soft in the stillness of the cool morning air. 

Without answering, Tomas stepped forward and bowed his head, his close-cut dark hair damp with sweat, his golden skin glimmering with little beads of the liquid. He faced the plain white stones they had used to mark the graves and began his prayer. 

“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen. 

I commend you, my dear brothers and sisters, to Almighty God, and entrust you to your Creator. 

May you return to him who formed you from the dust of the earth.

 May holy Mary, the angels, and all the saints come to meet you as you go forth from this life. 

May Christ who was crucified for you bring you freedom and peace. 

May Christ who died for you admit you into his garden of paradise.

 May Christ, the true Shepherd, acknowledge you as one of his flock. 

May he forgive all your sins, and set you among those he has chosen. Amen.”

The final vestiges of the prayer drifted away. Khepria wasn’t keen on Catholic prayers. There were too many words, too little action. Though she didn’t believe in the Egyptian gods, she preferred their method. Sacrifices, a few simple words, then indifference until the next day. 

Theo placed a hand on Tomas’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he said softly.

They stood silently for a few more minutes, watching the sun bathe the fresh graves in golden light, the carnage of the village resplendent in the glowing sunshine. The wind picked up, and for a moment, Khepria thought she could hear laughter from the graves. Perhaps the Catholic saints had come.

#genre: intrusive fantasy #inklingschallenge #team chesterton #theme: burial #story: complete #original work #short story #dragonology

[mewspeaches]

2:46am | what once was

pairing : kenma kozume x f!reader

tags : angst, hurt no comfort, empty relationship, post break-up

wc : 1281 words

you were never a big fan of games really, well, you were never a big fan of multiplayer games, to be precise. you were perfectly content with spending your free time roaming around the cozy landscapes of stardew valley or animal crossing, both which supplied you with plentiful in game friends. that was until you met kenma kozume. all of a sudden you found yourself booting up first person shooters and spending late nights attempting to improve your horrendous aim, with kenma in your ear trying (and failing) to help guide you through the tumultuous learning process. 

the late night gaming sessions with discord as your mediator soon turned into shy lunches together in the food court besides your university, which then led to hours spent besides each other in internet cafés, and before you knew it kenma began to monopolize both your spare time and your heart. then there was the one night spent in your apartment, where the line between friendship and something more had been blurred past recognition and the both of you shared a clumsy first kiss to the soundtrack of howl’s moving castle in the background. 

you can still recall talking him into starting his twitch streaming, playful boasts about how you could “impress the masses” with your gameplay and help his channel blow up, and blow up it did! kenma captivated the audience with his calm personality and intricate gameplay techniques, even sometimes letting his fans catch a glimpse of his softer side when he’d have you on as an occasional guest. of course tetsuro constantly begged to be featured, but he was always shut down immediately much to his dismay. something along the lines of how his ‘uncouth’ behaviour would get kenma in trouble, is what he’d get told. your heart swelled with pride, watching your beloved boyfriend do what he loves and succeed? there was nothing else in the world you could have asked for. 

so when did things start going wrong?

there was no major concerning issue within your relationship with kenma, but rather an accumulation of small things that continued to pile on until you were both suffocated under its force. he’d stopped saying ‘i love you’ as often, claiming that you knew so why did he have to tell you? your appearances on his streams became more and more spaced apart, until you just stopped appearing altogether. he barely had time for you in his schedule despite you rearranging anything and everything you could for a chance to see him whenever he’s free, and if you were able to make plans he started making a habit of blowing them off. on the rare occasion whenever you managed to get together, the littlest things seemed to strike a nerve and sour his mood, cutting the night short. you aren’t sure when, but at some point you were constantly walking on eggshells when it came to kenma. 

it’s fine, he’s just stressed, he’s tired, he has too much on his plate, i’m being too clingy, were the excuses you began to repeat to yourself over and over again like a mantra, desperately clinging onto what was left of your first love. at some point they stopped working. you stopped fighting. what hurt the most though, was it were as if he didn’t even notice the shift in your behaviour. maybe you weren’t as important as you thought. what remained of the relationship crumbled on one particularly chilly night, but you had the heat from the tears streaming down your cheeks to keep you warm. he left your apartment without glancing back. 

warmth encompassed your body from head to toe, a subtle hint of sandalwood invading your senses as you slowly arose from your slumber. your drowsy vision was met with golden feline-esque eyes pooling with adoration, “morning sleepy head.” kenma’s voice called out for you, a faint whisper as soft as the breeze that swept in through the window that was left ajar. the ghost of a gentle kiss brushed against your forehead, luring you back to the land of the conscious. “ken?” you murmured brows furrowed, an uncomfortable pit beginning to form in your stomach. with fluttering eyes you struggle to focus your sights onto the imperceptible silhouette beside you. 

“wait, why are you here?” your lips echoed the thoughts swirling in your foggy mind, unable to logically grasp at your current situation. he shouldn’t be here. “kenma?” you called out once more with intent, a cold chill shooting through your form as you abruptly sit upright rubbing your eyes with desperation. the previous warmth had all but vanished, and the lingering scent of sandalwood still playfully wafting around you as if to mock as you sat in your bed, alone. 

everything was a reminder of him–or rather, the lack of him. you were haunted by the memories of what once was, and even though it was cruel, you couldn’t help but hope he was tortured too. the stack of games you’d purchased throughout the course of your relationship now sat abandoned, collecting dust in some corner of your living room as you couldn’t bring yourself to enjoy them anymore without the one who’d introduced you to them. 

you no longer ate near campus, opting to reclude to your apartment with this week’s bag of cup noodles and other various microwavable meals. perched on the floor with your laptop set up on the coffee table you aimlessly scrolled through netflix for something to fill the silence surrounding you. it has been almost two months since you broke things off but he still frequented you mind, as you often found yourself wondering about little things, has he dropped out of that one class he hated?, has he reached his subscriber goal yet?, is he doing okay or is he just as much of a mess as you are, or, has he found someone new? you shudder at the thought and your heart pangs.

switching tabs as you fall victim to the curiosity, your search bar autofills and you’re met with kenma’s familiar streaming profile, looking the same as it always had since the day you helped him finalise the colours and overall aesthetic. a selfish part of you was glad that he left things relatively unchanged, for it served as proof of your previous presence in his life. there’s a red blinking button besides his username, signifying that he is currently live and you stare at it for a split second before clicking without a second thought. you make eye contact with your reflection on the black screen as you await with bated breath, once the screen loads you’re met with his face. 

this isn’t the first time you’ve let yourself peruse through his socials, but it is the first time you’ve been able to catch him live, able to glimpse at him in real time from the safety of behind your screen. he looks good. he’s smiling, ever so slightly, eyes cast down presumably at his phone. there’s a hint of tenderness in his expression that you’re sure only you can pick up on, as you were once the sole recipient of such soft looks, despite the fact that you were unable to recall the last time he had looked at you so intimately. suddenly your appetite escapes you as he addresses the audience, his golden eyes boring into yours as he announces that there will be a special surprise guest on next week’s stream. you foolishly hope with all your being that he had finally given in to tetsuro, as you shut off your laptop avoid finding out. you immediately regret snooping, as your miserable mind begins to run wild.

# ange’s comments :

omg? me? posting on tumblr? insanity.

this is a really old draft, i'm trying to get around to finishing my old work so i apologise if im a little rusty :')

but yay! hi! i'm kind of back, i've missed it here!

#mewonders #kenma kozume x reader #kenma kozume #kenma angst #haikyuu!!

[dukeswonderousmenagerie]

Art by @cardiac-rhythmic (thank you friendo your still the very best) Where the Blood keeps Running

. . .The rest of the night all runs together in a blur. He opens his eyes to a quiet sunrise peeking around the curtains. The smell of blood is gone, and when he goes to take a leak, the blood splattered sink is clean, and it smells like cleaning detergent. His hands are a trembling mass of dark red pain on the ends of his arms. Goemon’s asleep, propped up against the bed, hair crazy, he smells like detergent. 

Jigen walks up towards the bed. His face is blank as he stares at Goemon’s sleeping form. He’s slightly propped up by the headboard, arms across his chest, head tilted toward where Jigen stood, breath even and spaced out. Jigen stands there, and without a second thought he creeps his fingers a little closer tentatively. The pain from the movement washes over and through him. He clenches his jaw and shuts his eyes and swallows the noise he wants to make, and when he opens his eyes again, Goemon is still dead to the world and Jigen has one of his bandaged hand as close to his head as he can get. The tips of his fingers that aren't bandaged, barely touching his head, gently touch at Goemon’s hair.

Goemon doesn’t flinch, he doesn’t move. But Jigen stands there and stares as the tips of his fingers idly dance along the loose strands, as if trying to make sure that Goemon was real, and here. He stands there, staring at Goemon and then he looks out the window to the rising sun as it bathes the room in a now dark pinkish hue as it rises up over the skyline. And as he stares, Jigen thinks.

Later he would go down to the hospital. Later he would go down and see Lupin, and then he would decide his next move. He knew Goemon would not bring up what happened last night unless prompted too. But for now, Jigen would bury that situation and his current feelings for the time being. The night before in the bathroom would be a distant memory until everything got settled. But for now. . .

But for now he would stay focused. With Lupin out of commission there were things that needed to be done- their entire operation would have to be at a stand still for now until Lupin’s condition either improved or. . .

or . . .

Jigen pushed that thought from his head for a moment, and tried to think instead of what Lupin told him to do if anything ever happened to him. “Crisis management”, as Lupin put it. Step one was simple, make sure all assets were safe. With Lupin down for the count, Jigen didn’t want to take any chances of anyone else coming out of the woodwork to stake claim on anything that hadn’t been sold or given back to museums or the proper people. Which meant everything had to be shut down before the “Cultured Vulture’s” as Lupin liked to call them started circling. Which meant Jigen had to make a few calls.

But the step prior to step one was more important at the moment. That step included worrying about his boss first. So later, he would go down to the hospital and see Lupin, and if Lupin was awake, and coherent enough, he would ask him what he’d want him to do. Lupin had originally told him years back that if anything ever happened to him, that Jigen would be put in charge of everything and everyone. And while Jigen couldn’t help but feel his heart ache at how much trust Lupin put in him, even if he didn’t feel like he deserved it now, Jigen still felt weird calling the shots by himself without Lupin around. 

But as he stood and looked at Goemon’s sleeping form, he remembered the one thing that he had seared in the back of his mind after Lupin had told him.

Keep them safe- Goemon and Fujiko.

Back then he thought it was dumb: Goemon was a strong man who obviously didn’t need protection, and while he couldn’t stand her, Jigen had to admit Fujiko was a resourceful enough woman to keep anyone on their toes.

But after what had happened. . .Jigen now understood. And with the people who nearly took out Lupin still out there, what were the odds of them attempting to finish the job?

The thought of them coming back. Coming to finish the job, and maybe even take out the rest of them, set Jigen’s teeth on edge.

So as he stood there, looking at Goemon and thinking about everything, he made a promise to himself. One that made his trigger finger itch despite the pain in his hand, and his eyes turn cold as they watched the dawn rise. One promise that he had no intentions of breaking.

He would keep them safe.

No matter what.

#lupin iii #lupin the third #lupin the 3rd #daisuke jigen #jigen daisuke #jiglup #lupin iii: fall of kings #lupin the iii #arsène lupin iii #jigen x lupin #goemon ishikawa xiii #goemon ishikawa #fujiko mine #Fujiko #jigen x goemon #Jigoe

[amphtaminedreams]

Thoughts No.2

every time I see 50+ year olds mocking young people for feeling hopeless about the world and the state of their lives, it just honestly strikes me how little empathy they have

it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to understand why gen-z/millennials struggle to be optimistic; many of us spend our time in education in a state of constant stress, because we took it at face value when adults told us “if you work hard, you can do anything”

WELL cut to 18, 19, 20, however many years later when you’ve burnt yourself out trying to make perfect grades at GCSEs, A-levels, then university, masters etc. and you come to find out:

1). the top, well-paying jobs (or basically ALL jobs in creative industries) in your field of interest usually recruit on the basis of either "experience" (time spent working unpaid/below living wage internships, completely unfeasible to someone from an average working/middle class family whose parents can’t fund their lifestyle during that period), “connections” or referrals

2). the accessible jobs will make you go through round after round of interviews and have you grovelling in cover letters about how much you just fucking LOVEEE the company when you literally just want money to live on, only for 90% of them to not even bother telling you that you didn’t get the job

3). EVEN ONCE YOU GET A JOB YOU’RE LIKELY GOING TO HAVE TO WORK THAT JOB FOR OVER A DECADE, PROBABLY MORE, TO EVEN HAVE A HOPE OF OWNING A HOUSE OR ANYTHING OF YOUR OWN FOR THAT MATTER

we are simultaneously watching as businesses established centuries before we were born destroy the planet to the point that many places will have become inhabitable by the time we have enough money to settle down somewhere

houses will be even MORE expensive, many of us will be forced to move miles away from our families and loved ones just to take what we can get, and in the meantime, we’re watching as a tiny percentage of people and their greed normalise living in poverty for an increasing number of people with no sign of this changing

it seems like this tiny percentage have such a stronghold over the political & legal system, mass media, and big business, that it feels we have no real power or platform to do something about it

the situation in Palestine has just emphasised the fact that to the wealthy, the innate value of human life is meaningless; it shouldn’t HAVE to be that you put yourselves in these innocent people’s shoes for Israel and its allies’ actions to horrify you, but if nothing else, it’s shown that it could be anyone, and that should be fucking terrifying

so like I said: it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to understand why young people would feel hopeless when the concepts of moral decency and meritocracy, which our parents and their parents told us were the most important things ensuring us a meaningful, happy and fulfilling future, are increasingly being exposed as a crock of shite

the only conclusion I can come to is that there is something overriding their ability to empathise with the circumstances we find ourselves in and I’m thinking that, as is typically the case, it comes down to ego: they get defensive and shut down because this is the world they made, and they are the ones that lied to us about it-not only that, but they’ve lied to themselves for all this time too

#politics #political #british politics #fuck the tories #climatedestruction #we're fucked #time for change #social #democratic socialism #gen z culture #rant