#I tried to explain that just because it was green in the pattern didn't mean I had to make it in green

[cuppatealove]

Finished another knitting project 😊

Pattern

[avatar-anna]

Pale Green Stripes

The Professor Masterlist

this takes place during The Professor Series!

"Did you know you're the only person who never tries to interrupt me?"

"What do you mean?"

Harry and Y/n lay on the carpeted floor of her townhouse. Their shoulders touched, but that was about it. Even so, Harry could feel that tiny bit of contact throughout his entire body. The professor probably had a word for that, a scientific term to explain why just the slightest graze—not even skin against skin—sent him into a tailspin that made him have to focus extra hard on what she said.

Y/n's hands knotted together on her lap, a thing she did when she held herself back. It was as if she had to physically restrain herself some way to keep her from speaking out of turn. Harry personally never thought she did, from their first meeting at the bookstore, he'd been fascinated by her, by the things she said.

"I don't mean to...impart information on people the way that I do. It just happens sometimes," she said, her eyes gazing up at the ceiling.

Harry knew he probably should've too, but he couldn't help but look at the professor instead. Her hair fanned out around her shoulders, she wore a string of pearls around her neck and earrings made to look like Salvador Dalí's melting clocks in her ears. Her jewelry was always a mix of something professional and a little quirky, Harry came to realize, as if even at work as a professor at Cambridge University she couldn't help but have a little fun.

Her wardrobe consisted of patterned socks and cherry red Adidas shoes and fun knitted sweaters and vests. Today she merely wore a cozy navy blue sweater and a flowy white skirt, her red shoes were on a rack by the door, but she still wore her ruffled socks with embroidered roses on them.

"I don't mind it at all," he replied honestly.

Y/n blinked a couple times, then said, "I know. I was surprised at first because everyone usually cuts me off. Or walks away."

Harry frowned. He couldn't help but notice how clinically the professor spoke about the hurtful things that had been done to her. By her family, so-called colleagues, the few friends she had at work. He couldn't fathom anyone finding Y/n anything less than wonderful. She was brilliant, yes, but funny, and charismatic, and had a knack for storytelling. Harry never wanted her to stop talking. Ever.

"I like listening to you," he told her, shrugging as best he could given his current prone position.

"That's probably because you never finished school and are trying to make up for lost time."

From anyone else, that would've been a joke, a jab, but Y/n took education seriously, had mentioned it numerous times since they met.

Still, Harry chuckled. "Maybe I just like the sound of your voice. Maybe I just like hearing what you have to say. Maybe I find your lectures highly arousing."

"Edward!"

Even as he laughed with her, Harry couldn't help but feel guilty. He knew he should tell her, he should've told her months ago. His middle name fired out of his mouth before he could think the first time Y/n asked him for his name. A desire for anonymity, that was all it was. He didn't think he'd see her again outside the one time, so he thought it would be harmless. Then they did keep meeting, and he didn't have the guts to tell her, and now he was too deep in the lie to find a way out.

"What?"

Harry had never been shy about his attraction to the professor, even if he'd only seen half of her face due to the mask she wore. There was so much to appreciate about her, so much to admire, and he let his own imagination do the rest. He could've, of course, looked her up online. Y/n had mentioned something about posting educational videos online, but he thought it was only fair that if she didn't know what his entire face looked like that he didn't either.

"Why do you say stuff like that?" she asked, and even without the mask, Harry could tell she was blushing.

"Like what?"

"About me. About—about your attraction to me and how you find me—or think I'm a—"

"Yes?" Harry encouraged. He could tell there was a word or phrase she had in mind but was too embarrassed to use.

"In the 16th Century, the word bellibone was first used. It's derived from French etymology using the words belle and bonne to describe a woman who excels in both beauty and goodness. There's really only one known use in the late 1500s. A poet named Edmund Spenser, though he was from Ireland. It's fascinating how a word can be used once then ceases to exist, don't you think?"

Harry blinked, not totally prepared for the tangent, though perhaps he should've been. Grinning beneath his mask, he said, "I think it describes you perfectly."

"Edward," Y/n said, now her neck was flushed too.

"Does it make you uncomfortable?" he asked. "The compliments? The—" He might as well call it what it was—"flirting?"

"N—No."

"Because I'll stop if it does," he promised. "I just think you should know how devastating you are."

One of the professor's eyebrows quirked up in confusion. "That was an interesting choice in adjective."

But it was the perfect one. Harry knew he couldn't be with Y/n the way he wanted when she didn't know the truth about who he was, and he couldn't risk losing her if he finally told her. Perhaps it was unfair to play at something he knew he couldn't have, but part of him wanted Y/n to know that she was desirable, that she was more than what her intellect offered. Sure, Harry found her intelligence sexy as all get out, but she was also beautiful, and funny, and kind, and he didn't think anyone had ever complimented more than just her brain.

He would spend an entire day complimenting her if he had the time, or if she let him.

But while Y/n was confident in many things, romantic feelings weren't one of them. Despite the obstacles he put in his own way, Harry didn't think the professor was quite ready to hear how much he really liked her.

"Tell me something."

"Like what?" Y/n asked.

"Anything," Harry said, facing her and propping his head in his hand. "A book you read, something that fascinates you, your least favorite student, anything."

She narrowed her eyes at him as she positioned her body to face his. "I don't have a least favorite student."

"I don't believe you," he replied, narrowing his eyes back playfully.

Y/n scanned his face, then up and down his body. It was casual, though Harry noticed that her gaze lingered in places—his arms, his shoulders, his face. He wore a mask, but he tried to suppress his grin anyway. Then, before he could tease her more, her eyes lit up.

"Did you know the stripe pattern originated in the Middle Ages?"

He never knew, but she always prefaced her information the same way. "Did it?"

Nodding to the green striped shirt Harry wore, she said, "Stripes were used to identify social outcasts. Prostitutes, criminals, hangmen, clowns and jugglers; they all had to wear stripes so they were easily recognizable in regular society."

"Clowns?"

"Outcasts and people who were...not society's favorites, like court jesters and such. European governments even legalized the requirement of certain citizens to wear stripes. Though now, of course, stripes are popular due to Coco Chanel wearing a striped shirt similar to French sailor uniforms, which, you know, sailors were also usually the lowest rank of the French navy. Then stripes began appearing in women's activewear in the 1920s, Al Capone began wearing pinstriped suits, and the rest is history. A long, brutal history, obviously, seeing as prisoners were later forced to wear striped uniforms, and prisoners in concentration camps during World War Two, but—there you have it. A brief, slightly detailed history of the stripe."

Harry looked down at his long sleeved shirt, the thin pale green and white striped that lined his arms and torso. "Not sure if I'll be able to wear stripes again, but... that's really fascinating."

"Thought you might like that," Y/n said with a shrug.

Harry tilted his head questioningly. "Why do you say that?"

"You like clothes."

He didn't question how she knew that. With her background, Y/n seemed to know things about him that she just happened to observe. It was a little disconcerting at first, but he came to appreciate that he didn't have to pretend around her. No airs, no personas, none of the things he'd become so accustomed to in recent years. The professor might not have known about Harry's career, but she knew him in ways no one else did.

"Well," he said, playfully sighing at his shirt. "Guess I'm never wearing stripes again."

Y/n's eyes squinted and her mask scrunched a little, the way they always did when she smiled. With an unmistakable glint in her eye, the adorable one she always got when Harry indulged in her. "Wait until you hear about polka dots!"

Harry sighed, a mix of exasperation and amusement making him chuckle a little. "Tell me more, love."

[cindersnows]

i think as viewers we find it easy to sit back and judge each character until their motivations are explained to us in detail like with purple and king and chosen. even with victim its fairly easy to guess a portion of why she is doing this. and that's partially because avam is just made to be like that so all audiences can understand it and why the characters do what they do, and also partially because it's a little difficult to do more subtle storytelling when you can only express character feelings through their body language (and the body language has to be fairly exaggerated so that everyone can understand how the character is feeling).

so then as a result when we see green falling deep into the hole of social media it's easy to scoff and judge and say come on green, do better. we see it as him just getting too cocky again- look at green with his ego and his need to seem cool, he's sucking up to people again so he can get validation. and people understand that, they're even comparing his arc to purple, but they're forgetting to actually see things from his point of view.

like yeah. green was mean to yellow! and that was a kind of assholey thing to do, agreeing with people when they say yellow didn't do much. but like people do stupid shit all the time, especially to get approval. green hearting mean comments wasn't him on his villain arc, he probably barely thought about it. haven't you ever done anything without thinking or made a joke in bad taste. honestly it's a little ironic how quick people were to jump on him when he did something kind of mean, it reminded me of actual cancel culture! fascinating shit. we really are a part of the story.

anyways green started off as the weakest. he tries his best to be good at other things, first building, then music, but for some reason whenever he does well in something his friends get jealous or upset. (he pours himself into that thing and unintentionally ignore s or snaps at his friends--- its a repeating pattern at this point). it's mostly because their competitive spirit, something which is seen in a lighthearted manner but has gotten them killed or hurt on multiple occasions and i feel like they're going to have to address that at some point. whenever green sets boundaries, they're ignored, even if cg think they're just acting in the greater good.

hell, even purple, we've barely seen them interact after s3- who's to say purple wouldn't just scoff at him as well? she's already not very experienced with actual friendships (based on the way they just expected green to brush the betrayal off in parkour, they acted more like it was a small disagreement than a full on issue), so he may just assume this is how friends are.

basically the point of this is to say, no one ever celebrates his success. obviously he's competitive with his friends too, but having been at the bottom of the group from the start, he's visibly very insecure about this stuff, and having people attempt to kick him down during every success he gets (which he works very hard for) will lead to him needing validation from elsewhere. clearly, social media is supposed to give him this.

but like someone in the community pointed out, now he's appealing to hundreds of thousands of people instead of just 5 or 6. the praise is awesome, but seeing that people still have criticism of him just makes him throw himself into his work even more. it also probably functions as a form of escapism for him; he's so busy working, editing, writing, he barely even notices that his friends are avoiding him. it's possible he's purposely using youtube as a way to ignore his gut. anyways, blue's still willing to hang out and record with him, so what's the issue? (it's not as if blue is the least confrontational of the cg lol)

i have. been in this exact position. the moment you make anything, you're looking straight at the numbers. it becomes what you think of in the morning and during the creation process. you're skimming comments for keywords--- good, bad, more, less, etc. you listen even when you don't mean to. yeah maybe the guy was a little mean about one of my friends but ultimately it's just constructive criticism! it's not like she'll see this anyway. it's fine.

and yeah green needs to stop being so obsessive but i think he deserves to break down first. like what ash said--- he expresses his negative emotions the least out of everyone, he barely takes breaks, it's going to come crashing down. and i think when cg confront him about his behaviour he deserves to yell at them for the way he gets treated. it really hurts when all you are is the butt of the joke even when they mean it in a lighthearted way. if the arc just ends with green being knocked down a peg as usual, i will be very fucking upset because he's literally already at the bottom of the ladder, what more do you want?

[prismuffin]

Heya, wanted to do an ask, as well as your inbox still says you're taking requests. Didn't know if you wanted to change that.

How do you think the justice league boys, (Superman, Batman, Green lantern ( Hal Jordan), the flash, etc.) and John Constantine would react to an alien Reader?

Better explanation: So the reader has patterns or something that changes based on their mood, so how do you think they would react if they were talking to the Reader and Reader's colours changed to love?

Reminds me of Koro Sensei so I'm gonna use his color palette to dignify the readers colors! Also thanks for letting me know abt my inbox LMFAO- Anyways I think

Batman was just ranting to you about his recent expedition with Hal, enjoying how your face would change colors based on your reactions to certain parts of the story. A deep blue with white outlines when you were shocked, green when you were happy and lilac when relieved. It was a simple and straightforward way of knowing how you felt and he liked about you. He had all your colors and their meanings memorized not only in his mind but in his database too. So it was quite the shock when you'd started to turn a light pink, the areas of your cheeks being a bit darker. You looked lovesick with a lopsided smile on your face and he stopped talking as it all really hit him. At the sudden silence your face went gray and neutral signifying your confusion. He chuckled and decided not to tell you the real reason why he stopped. But now that he's aware of your little crush he may act on his own.

Superman would also probably have most of your colors memorized though he still doesn't know what all of them mean. So when you turn a light shade of pink while you both were talking he was confused because it wasn't a color he could relate to anything. When he asked your pink color turned into a salmon color as you got embarrassed, that one he knew. He had to ask Batman what you turning pink meant in the end because he wanted to know just in case it happens again. When he figures out the emotion behind it he's very flattered and likes to see how easily he can make you turn pink.

Hal would be similar to Superman in the sense that he would only know what some of your colors meant. He's never asked he's just picked up on a few from just being around you. He likes to have knowledge on things though, so whenever a color comes up that he doesn't know he wouldn't mind asking you about it. You usually have no problem explaining to him what you're feeling but right now when he caught you turning bright pink when talking to him you seemed to shut down. Your pink turned salmon which luckily he knew so he asked why you were embarrassed which only deepened your color. He wasn't able to get an explanation out of you that day but after observing your behavior (and color) around him while comparing it to others he was able to easily catch on.

Barry would make an effort to know all of your colors. He struggles! But he's trying and that's the important thing. When having a conversation with you he usually tries to take it slow so that he can fully develop an understanding of what all your colors mean, he's honestly very fascinated. He tries to make guesses on what the colors he doesn't know mean based on context clues. So when you suddenly turn pink his brain is immediately in analyzing mode! It takes a couple of interactions with you for him to figure out exactly what it means, it's only a hunch but it's enough to give him the confidence to ask you out!

John has a mental library of what all your colors mean. Even colors you think he doesn't know he knows ok? So when you turn pink and he doesn't immediately know what it means he starts using the process of elimination to figure it out. After maybe two interaction with you turning pink around him and he's clocked the emotion behind it. Similarly to Superman he likes to tease you and see just how pink he can make you. His goal is to make you turn hot pink, he thinks it's cute.

———

Directory

[ryuichirou]

Re: Gaslighter Rook. I wanna preface this by saying ofc people are free to hc whatever they want but I have some issues with what the other person said and how dismissive they acted about the whole thing. I apologize if this invites drama or discourse, that is absolutely not my intention, I moreso just want to share the other side's point of view for the sake of balance since you said you don't mind civil discussion even if we disagree. Firstly, yes a lot of the arguments for this come from the labcoat vignette. However, it is not all just because of one line. In the same vignette, Rook tells Vil he can't trust his own eyes because Rook knows him better than Vil knows himself which is a very common gaslighter tactic. He then further mentions that people will leave him unless he does what Rook tells him to and puts down the "me or everyone else" argument. Rook further tries to undermine Vil's ability to trust other people in Vil's dorm vignette by saying the other dorm members would never appreciate Vil's efforts for them even if they knew about them – a blatant lie that however still makes Vil withdraw from talking to them about it. During Vil's overblot, Rook refuses to give Vil personal space while he's having a mental breakdown and repeatedly asserts that Vil "doesn't deserve" it as well as claiming to be responsible for punishing him. After VDC, Rook not only claims that his vote was the deciding one despite having no way of knowing that but also claims it was the objectively correct thing to do as, again, Vil didn't deserve to win, simply because having a mental breakdown is ugly (since he was referring to the overblot, not the attempted cursing – which was never confirmed to be intended to be lethal by the way, that was also just Rook's assumption, one Vil, a character who already struggles to communicate with people especially if he feels they see him negatively, didn't fight but also didn't confirm). I also take issue with the claim that it cannot be abuse just because Vil respects Rook. Even ignoring how often irl abuse victims don't realize they're abused because of their warped perception of their abuser, we have examples of this even in twst. Mrs. Rosehearts wasn't a wonderful mother who suddenly became abusive when Riddle stopped making excuses for her behavior. Abuse doesn't stop being abuse because it isn't recognized and to a lot of us gaslighting victims, Rook's behavior is spot-on with things we went through, hence why we call him a gaslighter. Oh and a small note before anyone claims anything, according to multiple psychology sources, gaslighters aren't always aware of what they are doing. Me and others calling Rook a gaslighter don't automatically mean he WANTS to be evil toward Vil. Some of us see it that way while others don't but regardless, acting as though this headcanon comes from one single out of context line and not from a pattern of behavior Rook consistently displays feels very disingenuous and like it's trying to make us seem crazy when all we try to do is explain why we may not be comfortable with a character.

You don’t have to explain why you are uncomfortable. Neither me nor that Anon have made any judgment about it, and frankly, who cares why you don’t like a character. You don’t need reasoning for not liking him, a person might just think Rook’s hair is stupid or dislike characters with green eyes, and that’s enough. None of this makes you crazy, and this isn’t that deep.

If you look at the first ever reply I did on this topic, I said it then (and after that I said it time and time again):

Based on what you’re saying, your opinion is influenced by your past experiences. Which isn’t a bad thing, we all have our own biases, but it makes a proper discussion quite difficult, especially when there is trauma involved.

Because we love Rook as much as you hate him, and I fail to see why we should align our feelings and experiences with yours. This is not a public debate platform, this is not a discord server, this is my personal blog, and my opinion is always going to be prevalent here. I usually try to take the position “agree to disagree” also to avoid situations like this.

You’ve said that you just want to explain and share your side of the conversation, but in that case claiming that the other side’s opinion is dangerous or uninformed is a pretty shitty thing to do, just as it is shitty to completely ignore the points they were trying to make and put words into their mouths instead, alluding to them victimblaming and dismissing real victim’s struggles. What I’ve said multiple times at this point is that Rook Hunt isn’t a gaslighter. Not that it’s Vil’s fault for trusting him, not that if Vil respects him that it automatically makes Rook not an abuser (Anon didn’t say that either). Not that Rook is always right. Not that Rook has never hurt Vil. I’ve even said that we can’t say for certain that Rook’s brutal honesty is always helpful and doesn’t affect Vil in any bad way:

Maybe sometimes it would be better for Vil to just take it easy and relax instead of perfecting every single thing, but this isn’t what Vil wants for himself: he doesn’t want to be pampered, he wants to be appreciated for his hard work.

Just because this is what Vil wants doesn’t mean that this is what’s best for him. I still don’t think that it makes Rook an abuser, by the way (which is also a completely different topic from Rook being a gaslighter). You have ignored every single argument I’ve made in all of my previous replies, which is fine, but then I don’t really see the reason for you to explain yourself if you’re not even going to listen to me again.

No one tried to paint you as crazy, and even if I or Anon thought that this entire argument (argument, not you) was weird, it doesn’t concern you. If Rook Hunt hurts you, why would you even interact with any discourse about him? Why did that very first Anon confront me for not calling Rook a gaslighter, if all you (collective “you”) people wish for is to explain your point of view? I am not an emperor of Rook Hunt land; I am a rando writing hcs about dicks on the internet. And Rook Hunt is a character of a gacha game.

I’ll repost another thing from my very first reply.

Just ignore shit that you don’t like because while it might be traumatic for you, to us it might be one of the few things that bring us happiness.

Please read this part carefully. And respectfully, let’s stop this. I don’t agree with any of your points/interpretation, I find them drastically off from Rook’s actual characterisation to the point that it’s almost baffling at times (I have read all the scenes you’ve mentioned and I disagree with your every single point.) And guess what, it’s absolutely okay. Like I, wow, have said time and time again, we all have our biases. Yours happens to be to read everything that Rook does in the worst way possible and to compare him to Riddle’s mom. Mine happens to be very different, and insisting on me just missing the point or thinking or feeling the wrong way or not being educated enough about gaslighting or abuse (something that I also experienced, and you are aware of that) feels pretty disrespectful. This isn’t what I meant when I said that I don’t mind a civil conversation. This doesn’t feel like a conversation. Because, you know…

Even if it feels completely off to how I view it, I can appreciate or at least respect it if they respect the way I do things. And don’t imply that I don’t get it or I am stupid.

I won’t write an actual rebuttal to your points because one thing hasn’t changed from my very first post about the topic: this isn’t about Rook Hunt. And I don’t want to discuss the so-called danger of fictional tropes that don’t even apply to the character in my view. Also, stating that the way I headcanon a character’s behaviour and share my thoughts with others is dangerous to other people in real life (because someone is going to take my opinion as a course for their actions, I guess?) is also ironic. Why isn’t me drawing problematic ships or writing dark headcanons dangerous then? It’s the same logic, I have heard this argument multiple times, and I fail to see how it’s different right now. Rook Hunt is not a real person, we see his interactions with others from all points of view, he has actual writers with their own intentions (none of which is to portray Rook as a terrible, atrocious person, he’s not even 100% a villain, he’s a character that helped the princess in the original story, and I believe that his writers keep that in mind, ffs), and it is drastically different from the way I would treat this situation in real life: exactly because I would have to base my opinion on the lack of other perspectives and not witnessing the situations myself, and a bunch of other factors connected to the fact that this is real life, and in those cases I would prioritise the victim of someone’s suspicious actions. What a surprise.

I also believe that Katsu and I did our part so you could easily ignore our Rook-centric posts that make you uncomfortable. So please do your part and don’t interact with our Rook-centric posts (this applies to anyone who is deeply uncomfortable with this character or any other character, for that matter). Coming up with ways to mention Rook in posts so it's easily mutable for you and only you and still getting treated like an abuse apologist who spreads dangerous ideas makes one feel kind of silly for ever trying to be considerate and respectful. You’ll have to come up with ways to deal with that on your own now. This conversation is over.

This is also the last post I’m writing on this topic, every follow-up ask or comment about it (from anyone, anywhere) won’t be replied to.

[halfdead-halfskeleton]

Notes:

Lilia x You. Reader knows how to sew clothing(while author does not)

Based off Suitors suit vignette. Technically it's a continuation of the story, so make sure to read the vignette before this fic

A lot of background characters, but I'm not tagging all of them

A bit non-linear storytelling?

The suit was made of magic, meaning it will disappear after a certain amount of time. The fact that such a beautiful sight is not going to stay here for long made your heart ache. And yet, you continued to smile and tried your best to memorize every tiny detail of the tuxedo. You had a plan, after all.

"Feast your eyes while you still can!" said Lilia. The tuxedo Malleus created for him was just marvelous! You and Sebek competed in who's going to complement Lilia more while his face was shining with a smile. Your face did too, it even hurt a bit to smile so much.

The next couple of months casually went by in your room, as you hunched over your secret project. If only your school life wasn't so busy and sometimes downright chaotic, you might have finished it sooner... And if the cruel thing that is perfectionism wouldn't criticize your every move.

After a few not-so-successful, to put it lightly, attempts, you finally finished recreation the suit Malleus made for Lilia back when ghosts that invaded the school for a marriage ceremony left.

Your first attempt failed because you were so obsessed with the idea of recreating the outfit you forgot to take Lilia's measurements. While the final product turned out to be quite nice, it wouldn't fit Lilia at all. Also you didn't have some accessories the original outfit had, which you noticed only at the end.

And so, you began anew, but now without the fabric you intended to use. The end result turned out too different from the tuxedo you remembered. The shade of green? Too vibrant. The pattern on the ribbon? Wrong. The pants? Actually quite nice, but that's the only part of the outfit you liked. And after your sewing machine unexpectedly broke you lost all the crumbs of motivation there were left...

Thankfully, you became a good friends with some students at NRC. While you were earning money for a new sewing machine, Vil and Kalim searched for the fabric and accessories that matched Lilia's suitor suit. Vil didn't get to witness the tuxedo, so you and Kalim had to explain how it looked like. You even showed him all the sketches you made and the first attempt suit as an example.

"Wow, your skill is really shinning here!" Kalim carefully examined the suit from all angles together with Vil. "It's really unfortunate your sewing machine broke... Are you sure you don't want me to get you a new one? It's going to be way faster than working in Mostro Lounge for a whole month."

"That's right, but I'm already asking you for help, you know. It won't be so fair if you do everything for me!" you answered and looked at Vil, who's also visibly impressed by your skills.

"The stitching is quite nice, you clearly took your time to make it the best suit it could be. I'm glad to see you actually listened to the advice I gave you during previous projects. Alright, I'll lend you a hand as well. Just remember that my schedule is tight, so it will take a while to find everything you need."

"Thank you both so, so much!" As you said that, Kalim came closer to give you a big hug. He was super excited to see how it will turn out!

After mountains and mountains of work, you left out a sign. Not out of exhaustion or frustration, but out of relief. You did it. You DID it! Finally, even when it seemed like the whole universe itself didn't want you to complete the suit, you did it!

"Good job." A sudden pat on your back woke you up from all the thoughts. It was Vil who just entered the room. After a minute or so, Kalim came here too.

"Sorry for making you wait!" He panted and leaned on the closest wall. "Oh, I got so scared when I couldn't find the Albert chain I had to call Jamil and a couple of other Scarabia students for help. We found it! It's the same one I gave Lilia that night."

"Wait, if that's the same one... Is it really okay for me to take it? You could get something similar, but..."

"But? I thought you wanted to make 1:1 recreation. Why are you backing up now?" Vil asked with a frown on the face. You pulled him closer and whispered:

"Because it costs 10 million thaumarks!" Such shocking information left Vil speechless for a minute.

"Well, I thought the original one would suit him better! So here it is." As Kalim said that, he placed the Albert chain with a bat on the outfit. You looked at your creation, the exact copy of the tuxedo Malleus has created with magic. Even though some tears appeared on your eyes, your face radiated joy. You finally did it.

It was an after-school evening when you decide to gift Lilia the suit you've been working so hard on. As you roamed around Diasomnia dorm, something poked your back. Strangely, when you looked back there was nothing and no-one. So you turned your head forward and immediately got spooked by upside-down Lilia!

"Ehehe." He smiled mischievously, yet still helped you to get back up. "It's rare to see non-Diasomnia students here at such time. Could it be that you're looking for someone?" Lilia's eyes were set on the box you carried, it was wrapped nicely, like a birthday present.

When your heartbeat calmed down, you remembered the words you prepared in your head. "Yes, there is... But I'm not sure if they'll actually like the present I made. Could you take a look?"

"Oh? A skilled dressmaker like you wishes to hear my opinion? I would be more than glad to assist you." Your heart skipped a beat. Did someone tell him about your secret project? Who could that- oh, probably Kalim, since they're in the same club. And even if Kalim didn't tell it exactly to him, but Cater instead, Lilia would still find out. But maybe Lilia doesn't actually know and said it just because?.. You're kind of known for your great sewing skills. Or... "Let's do it in my room, I was right on my way there." You brushed off the haunting thoughts away and headed to Lilia's room, trying to calm down.

His face beamed with happiness when you let him unwrap the present. Although at first he wondered if it was really okay. "It would be rather troublesome to wrap it back up when you're going to gift it to that person."

"Don't worry, I won't have to do it." A surprised gasp echoed in the room. Lilia carefully picked up the tuxedo, examining every detail. He couldn't believe his eyes. "So, what do you think?"

After a minute of silence, he smiled. "I still remember this tuxedo. I'm really proud of Malleus for coming up with such an elaborate design. And I'm really proud of you for recreating it up to every single detail." As Lilia said that, his eyes began to tear up a bit. "That night I wore a tuxedo for the first time in my life. It's hard to believe I can re-experience that moment again."

"Do you wish to wear it right now?" While you did take Lilia's and some other students'(to make it less suspicious) measurements long time ago, anxiety kept telling you you might have made a mistake at some point.

"I'm eager to wear it!" You smiled unknowingly when Lilia's gentle laugh reached your ears. In a couple of minutes you re-entered the room to see him happily dancing in the suit you made. The moment he saw you he reached for your hand. "Would you mind to dance with me for a moment? Such a delightful gift deserves a special thank-you!"

Blush painted your cheeks red, and heart began to beat faster with joy and excitement. You happily accepted Lilia's offer, taking his hand in yours. And so, you danced around the room. At one point Lilia began to hum a sweet melody. You joined him, and you both hummed in unison while dancing across the room.

You knew this moment, no matter how joyous and bright, would end eventually. So you made sure to enjoy every last bit of it, engraving it in your memory for eternity. And so did he.

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Wow, I did not expect for you to finish chapter one so soon!

Oh damn, that's a lot. Also, Tomura choosing to make a deal with him right as Dabi dies is mean. Expected in a fic like this, but mean. I don't think Dabi would have ended up as a demon otherwise? At least not from what is said in the beginning.

I guess his rage about Enji's accusations and the fact that he was being executed caught Tomura's interest? Or maybe Tomura was already watching the Todoroki's, hmmm.

Thank you Spinner, that is very comforting. I too would like to hear that I owe you my life in order to trust you. For real though, I always love it when you write Spinner as a healer/doctor in your fics.

Okay, so colours are assigned to the sins, yes? I'm assuming red for wrath, because that's always Tomura's colour. Purple for pride, since it's at the center of the door. Light blue for sloth, since you mentioned that that's Spinner's sin and he has a blue pattern in his clothes.

Spinner leaving as soon as the job is done. He did explain a little more than he needed to though, so it's not like he was entirely unhelpful. Lol.

Dabi's clothes do have red detailing. I wonder if it's because he went to hell because of wrath, or because he belongs to Tomura. Probably the second, since Tomura complains about how weak his wrath is.

Well, that sure is one way to test the limits of the bond. I wonder if Tomura is made aware of all the times Dabi tries to break the deal?

Tomura feeding Dabi fruit while he is studying to see how long it takes him to notice is so funny to me. He really has been fairly lenient. For a demon prince, that is. I wonder how much someone's aspect influences their personality? Does Shigaraki feel a need for violence and rage at all times? It would explain some of his behaviour.

Oop, there comes the envy. We know it's not going to be Dabi's aspect, but yeah. I can see what you mean when you said it would have been in other circumstances.

Dabi tries to indulge. He tries so hard to get stronger so that he can have a chance of maybe someday getting away from Shigaraki. Not that that will ever happen.

What a note to end on! Shigaraki is right about Dabi needing to let go of the teachings of the church, but it's very little time to relearn everything that used to define you.

Lol mean, but Dabi didn't offer himself up for a deal until that moment so it's really on him, isn't it? And yes, in theory, not offering that deal should have meant Everlasting for him, but he'll just never know, now will he?

He definitely caught Tomura's interest for a few reasons, but I guess we'll have to wait and see what those were 😏

It's gotta be someone, and while I like Twice and Toga going into medicine if they're going to recover and be rehabilitated from villainy, I don't think it would fit them as villains, since her quirk is so good for espionage and his is so good in a fight, therefore they would always be stuck doing that for the greater good of their friends. Meanwhile, in recovery, I don't think Spinner would want anything to do with the medical field, but he would do it as a villain if it meant that he could make himself more useful to his friends since his quirk is so weak.

Colors are assigned to the sins! Like according to Google they have canonical colors which I looked up to use for this! Envy is green, dark blue is Lust, light blue is Sloth, red is Wrath, purple is Pride, orange is Gluttony, and yellow is Greed! I was originally going to make up my own colors, but I decided to go with these ones to keep any confusion at bay for people who were already familiar with the canon ones!

Spinner is a sleepy little guy! Let him rest!! He's also wearing a ruby because it shows which prince owns their soul, hence also why someone unclaimed by an aspect yet, is also wearing red!

Tomura absolutely knows.

Dabi is an adorable little garbage disposal while he's distracted, or you could just try handing him/balancing things on him and wait to see how long it takes for him to notice. Tomura has definitely been lenient, but his patience has its limits! There will be more details about how aspects effect one as the story progresses, but it's pretty safe to say that it impacts all aspects of their daily lives!

Envy and Wrath are both great aspects for Dabi in canon but in this story? After being able to have a good relationship with the rest of his family for eleven years? Nah, he's too sad about losing them to be as angry about it as he should be.

Dabi is trying! But yeah, the church has a stranglehold on him. But maybe Shigaraki's leading by example and taking a more... 'hands-on' approach to Dabi's indulgences will help with that 😏😏😏

Thank you so much for commenting!

[girl-next-door-writes]

I Just Want You For My Own

Characters: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve is rather taken with you strange Christmas tradition, especially when he learns where it came from.

Word Count: 1244 words

Prompt: #5: Character A explains one of their winter holiday traditions to Character B

A/N: The wonderful @misconceptionmistress chose this prompt and I absolutely LOVE it. I could have gone for Steve explaining something from his past, but I couldn’t resist writing about one of my childhood traditions. 

"No. Absolutely not! You are NOT bringing that thing in here!" Tony was on his feet as soon as he saw you stumbling into the room, unable to see your face past the hideous tree in your arms. It was only a few feet tall and could barely be considered a tree after all this time. More tinsel than tree, garish ornaments adorning the remaining branches and multicoloured lights flickering in various patterns. You would be the first to admit that it was bloody awful, but a tradition is a tradition.

"You say this every year, Stark, and every year I tell you that it is only for one day and that you love this stupid tree as much as anyone." You smirked, placing the tree down, shedding a few of the decorations as it jostled.

"I hate that fucking tree." He pouted, sinking back into his chair and glaring at the offending article.

"Okay. Is someone going to tell me what all this is about?" Steve asked, looking from Tony to you as he bent over and retrieved a small troll doll dressed as and angel from where it had fallen, amusement dancing in his eyes as he handed the ridiculous trinket back to you.

"Thanks." You smiled brightly. "The tree will be very generous to you this year."

"The tree?" he chuckled, raising an eyebrow as he glanced at the decoration dubiously.

"That stupid tree is ridiculous and I hate it." Tony grumbled.

"And that attitude will not help when it comes to your gift." You knelt down beside the tree and began to pull out small, poorly wrapped gifts and place them under the monstrosity.

"So... what's with the tree?" Steve asked, bending down beside you and looking at the various things hanging from it.

"Okay, it's stupid really, but it's kinda become this thing so you're all stuck with it." You began to explain, pausing briefly in your actions to turn and look at him with a half smile. "So, growing up, my grandparents would have this tatty old tree. I've no clue why because they would also have this amazing real tree all beautifully decorated, but in the dining room there's be this tree where they put all the crappy ornaments the kids had made over the years, like truly awful. Anyway, on the 12th of December, every year, we would get a present 'from the tree'. As if the tree had gone out and bought us something, or stolen it because I can't see a tree having any cash available to it."

Steve chuckled at your rambling, now fully invested in watching your face as you spoke. If he tried hard enough, he could pretend that it was just the two of you sharing some sort of secret.

"So, right, the tree, it would give us the worst gifts ever! I mean, they were good for a tree, but there was bracelets that turned your wrist green, earings that didn't match, pens that exploded ink everywhere, really the worst. One year, I got a set of highlighters. That was a good year!" You grinned and Steve shuddered slightly as your hand came to rest on his upper arm.

"Highlighters?"

"Yep. Much better than the time I got bubble bath that gave me a rash. Anyway, I have no clue why my grandparents did this, but the tradition kinda stuck. The team, this rabble, they are like my family, so now the 'tree' gives you all shit gifts on the 12th of December and there's nothing Tony can do to stop me." You looked over at Stark with a shit eating grin.

"Oh man! It's Tree Day!" Clint bounded into the room and landed on the sofa, childish excitement all over his face.

"Tree Day? That's today?" Scott slid into the room in his socks, quickly joined by the rest of the team.

Once everybody was seated, you began to hand out gifts, waiting until it had been opened before you distributed the next one. The tree definitely did not disappoint.

Tony sighed as the crappy stressball the tree had given him burst, spraying it's insides all over him. Scott was overjoyed at the slinky which continually got tangled. Bucky had a beautiful pen that didn't work and Nat had a notebook with paper so shiny that it was impossible to write on. Rhodey chuckled as he scrunched his nose up at the stench of his new aftershave, and Wanda looked sceptically at her cheap bubble bath. Vision was overjoyed with his knock off Rubik cube which had several sticker missing, as was Clint with his deck of 47 cards. Peter was definitely the winner of best gift and he cheered as he unwrapped the pack of highlighters, Sam won the worst gift award by getting one of those fake cans where you open the top and things are supposed to spring out. It would have been a great gift, if the springs worked.

There was just one gift left beneath the tree and Steve frowned slightly. "Wait, did the tree not get you something?" he asked as you handed him the final parcel.

"Nah, I'm good. My gift is seeing you lot open your tat!" You laughed, looking at him expectantly.

Nodding his head, he turned his attention back to the gift in his hand. It felt slightly squishy and he cautiously peeled back the tape, half expecting something to fall or ooze out. His eyes crinkled at the corners and a warm laugh fell from his lips when he saw what the tree had given him.

"Hey! So not fair!" Sam called out as Steve lifted up his brand new pair of mismatched socks. Not only were they different colours but they were totally different socks, one a thick sport sock about ankle length, the other a navy dress sock with tiny dogs all over it which would reach to mid calf.

"Well, thank you oh mighty and wise tree." Steve addressed the tree, causing you to smile softly. Such a stupid gesture but he sensed it actually meant a lot to you. "I think me and Mr Tree here need to have a talk about next year though. I can't have you missing out on the great gifts."

"I am sure the tree would appreciate help shopping next year, although you will have to be let into the secrets of tree gifting." You said seriously, a twinkle in your eye.

"Is there a ceremony before I learn these secrets? Do we wear special outfits and chant?" He teased.

"Not sure yet, I'll have to discuss it with him and get back to you."

"Does this mean the tree can disappear back to your room until next year?" Tony asked hopefully.

"I think he should stay right here for the rest of Tree Day." Steve shot back and was rewarded with your hand resting on top of his. He could definitely get behind this tradition, especially as it made you so happy.

[girltalkcollectives]

When Did You First Learn Your Skin Color Was 'Different'? I was 5.

TW: racism, childhood trauma

You never forget your first time. Not your first kiss, or your first day of school, but your first experience with racism. Mine happened between juice boxes and monkey bars.

I was five years old, rocking my favorite yellow sundress and butterfly hair clips, excited for my first day of summer camp. Mom had braided my hair the night before, and I felt like the prettiest girl in the world. You know that pure, untainted confidence only little kids have? That was me that morning.

It didn't last past snack time.

The Scene:

Picture this: A sunny playground in mid-July. Kids running around playing tag. The smell of sunscreen and fruit punch in the air. Normal summer camp things. I'd just finished my apple juice and was ready to join a group of girls playing "princesses" in the corner of the playground.

What happened next is seared into my memory with the kind of clarity that only trauma brings:

"You can't play with us." "Why not?" "Because you're black. No black people allowed!"

They started running around the playground, turning it into a chant: "No black people allowed! No black people allowed!"

Just like that, my yellow sundress didn't feel so pretty anymore.

The "Explanation":

The counselors, bless their well-meaning hearts, tried to handle it. They put the other girls in time-out and gave them the standard "we don't exclude people" talk. Then one of them sat down with me, probably seeing my confusion and hurt, and tried to explain:

"It's like if you're wearing a green shirt and they don't like the color green…"

That's right. They compared my skin color – my identity, my heritage, my entire existence – to a shirt you can just change.

My Mother's Rage:

When my mom picked me up and heard about the "green shirt" explanation, I learned what righteous fury looked like. I remember her face changing, her grip on the steering wheel tightening.

"Baby, let me explain something to you," she said, turning to face me fully. "Your skin is not a shirt you can take off. It's not something you can change, and it's not something you should want to change. It's beautiful, it's who you are, and anyone who can't see that is the one with the problem."

Then she marched right back into that camp office.

The Adults Let Us Down:

Looking back now, I'm struck by how many adults failed that day:

The counselors who oversimplified racism to a shirt color

The parents who raised kids who already knew how to be racist at 5

The camp administration who probably thought time-out solved racism

The Things You Remember:

It's wild what sticks with you from moments like these:

The pattern of my yellow sundress (butterflies and flowers)

The taste of apple juice turning sour in my mouth

The sound of their sing-song voices: "No black people allowed!"

The hot shame of standing alone

The way my butterfly clips suddenly felt heavy

The confusion of not understanding what I'd done wrong

The Lessons Learned Too Early:

At five years old, I learned:

My skin color could make me an outsider

Some people would hate me without knowing me

Adults don't always know how to help

Racism isn't always hood-wearing obvious

Sometimes it comes with pigtails and juice boxes

What Nobody Tells You:

The first cut of racism might come from children, but the wound is deepened by the adults who don't know how to handle it. Well-meaning white counselors comparing fundamental identity to clothing choices. Authority figures who think time-out can cure generational prejudice.

To My Five-Year-Old Self:

Sweet girl in the yellow sundress:

It was never about you

Your skin is not a shirt

Your beauty is not debatable

Their racism was not your burden to bear

You deserved better

You were perfect exactly as you were

To Parents and Educators:

Don't compare immutable characteristics to clothing

Don't oversimplify racism to make yourself comfortable

Don't pretend time-out solves systemic issues

Do have real conversations about race

Do validate children's experiences

Do call racism what it is

The Reality:

First memories should be about:

Making friends

Learning to swim

Playing games

Summer fun

Being a kid

Not learning that your skin color makes you "different."

Moving Forward:

That day changed me, as first encounters with racism always do. But my mother's response taught me something more powerful: to stand tall, to know my worth, and to never let anyone make me feel less than because of my skin.

To the little Black girls at summer camp: You are beautiful, you belong, and it's not your job to make others comfortable with your existence.

And to my fellow Black women who remember their "first time" all too well – I see you, I feel you, and I hope you're healing too.

Link to our website: https://girltalkcollectives.com/

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #236

Today was a very bad mental health day, for reasons beyond my comprehension. Yesterday was awesome, and so was the day before that, and so when I woke up on the wrong side of the broomstick this morning, it seemed to come completely out of the blue.

Oh uh. Actually. You might not understand the connotations of "waking up on the wrong side of the broomstick". Uh… So in my world, there are the witches of folklore; traditionally, they are women who have green skin and big huge hooked noses, and they wear loose-fitting black dresses and pointy black hats, and they fly around on broomsticks, looking for children to snatch up and cook in their cauldrons. They're generally seen as not-very-nice, at best; I'm not sure you have these kind of witches in your world, do you?

I have cultural conditioning that tells me that any time a human female is unhappy, it means she is like the witches of folklore - unpleasant and insufferable. And so, if ever I was unhappy for any reason, my father would say, "looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the broomstick this morning!"

…Hm. I guess it only just now occurred to me what an ugly phrase that is, even used ironically. I could explain the history of HOW witches of folklore came to be associated with women, green faces, and black clothing with pointy hats, but… that's also pretty ugly, too, and I'm already depressed enough; maybe I'll get into it later if you ask, but I think for now… maybe I'll just stop using the phrase "woke up on the wrong side of the broomstick" anytime I'm not perfectly chipper; other states of emotion are part of the human condition, and being in those states doesn't make me bad.

Well. Like I said, my brain is refusing to create the happy chemical, for unknown reasons. So of course, today I am more prone to falling into old thought patterns regarding my own worth as a human being, and old thought patterns as to what I can expect from the people around me. As an example… J went around the house doing various housekeeping things, and I got jumpy because, in the past, if my mother was doing housework things, it meant she was mega pissed at me for not having done them already, and I was about three seconds away from getting a tirade thrown at me.

But J is not my mother; I do not need to worry about him doing that thing. However, my brain worries about it nonetheless, in a misguided effort to protect itself while it's already feeling vulnerable. My brain thinks that if I feel vicious things at myself and make it known that I think poorly of myself, then the people around me will be less likely to verbally abuse me, because I'm already doing it myself.

This has worked to take the edge off of others' tirades for a long time. It was a survival skill that served me well, but it's no longer useful where I'm at, and it will never be useful again, because I never have to go back to those places. So I gotta work on not doing that thing, because it's not good for me, and when I do things that are not good for me, it makes the people who love me very sad, and I don't want them to be sad.

So today, instead of succumbing to the funk and diving headfirst into old things, I tried to take care of my body. I tried to stay hydrated. I tried to eat relatively well. I took my multivitamin. Even if my brain isn't making the happy chemical, I can still make sure that my body has the resources it needs in order for my brain to resist falling into old patterns and beliefs. Today, I was mostly successful.

In order to pass the time until this funk goes away (because as far as I know, really the only thing for it is time), I tried to play a little Dead Cells. I didn't get very far, though, before my brain decided that it was time to stop; I played maybe for 45 minutes, give or take. And then I spent some time just sitting on the couch, drifting in between consciousness and… not quite sleep, but not quite being fully awake, either. It was weird.

…I saw, in my sleepy semi-dreamy state, a vision of you, in a rope hammock hanging from a willow tree, resting peacefully in comfy, casual clothing, swinging back and forth gently in the wind, along with the sound of windchimes, birdsong, rustling leaves, and the whooshing of the breeze. The air was pleasantly cool and it smelled like fresh leaves and grass. It was such a nice little dream.

…Wouldn't it be nice if a place like that is where you are now...

Most of the rest of today was uneventful. There was one thing that happened, but I'm not sure I'm ready to talk about it just yet. Maturity regarding the situation is good, but I am also a little sad about it, and that is natural and bearable.

…Maybe when I wake up tomorrow, I'll feel just a little better. That'd be very good. Wish me luck, won't you? In the meantime, maybe I'll throw in a few pictures I took between today and yesterday. Maybe they'll make you smile:

I think I'll end this letter here today. It's only like 9pm, but I'm getting pretty sleepy, despite the semi-nap I had earlier. I might turn in early today.

Hey, Sephiroth? Please stay safe out there, won't you? Because someone over here loves you enough to write to you every day, and you wouldn't wanna miss tomorrow's letter, right?

I love you. 'Til soon.

Your friend, Lumine

[thatoneashkid20xx]

This is Flowey's(Gold's) battle explained as easily as I want-

Note that since Astro and the other souls are there too, you have more HP. Instead of 20 HP, you now have 80. Your ATK and DEF also go up to 4 instead of 0. Due to this, all monsters you encounter have higher stats, and their bullet patterns are trickier to dodge.

Also note that your souls has colors of all 7 humans, because all 7 humans are fighting with you. When one of the humans dies, their soul color disappears too.

Flowey:

Gold's battle is pretty easy compared to the rest. At first, he seems eager to fight you and get a human soul, but the more you spare, the more he realizes that what he's doing isn't right. He'll ask you if you understand what's going on, and say he has to do this. He says this to scare you. Eventually, he wraps your soul in vines so your movements start to slow. Your soul turns a light green when this happens, but you don't get a shield like in Undyne's battle. I'll explain why later. He'll start to use blue, orange, and green attacks to freak you out. Keep sparing him and he'll look at you with anger.

"What are you doing?"

"Why are you sparing me?"

"Even after all those attacks... Even after I tried to kill you and your friends..."

"Why do you still want to give me your mercy...?"

" . . . "

Gold's attacks start to slow down a lot, but your soul is no longer trapped in vines, so it turns back to normal. At this point, after you survive one last attack, you can spare Gold.

". . . ? "

"You're sparing me?"

"Hmph."

"You really haven't learned a thing, have you?"

Gold will have a quick attack that you aren't prepared for, but it's a green attack. After this, Gold looks down and prepares something. Spare him one more time and the battle ends.

He will look at you sadly, and mumble a thank you, before disappearing into the Earth. Gold is now an ally, and can help you with certain puzzles throughout the various areas.

I have Toriel's battle written as well so I'll just include that-

Toriel:

Toriel's fight is relatively the same as before, with some slight changes after the first couple attacks. Toriel will speed up her attacks to see how well you can avoid unpredicted attacks. No matter what you do, the patience soul will die, bringing your HP down to 68. After Toriel will refuse to fight you anymore.

"I... I did not mean to do that..."

"Hopefully I can heal them..."

"Child, this battle cannot go on any longer."

"I will now spare you... After all,"

"You have clearly shown you can survive well..."

"Though your friend didn't..."

Toriel will stop talking for a moment to collect herself.

"I will keep this little one here."

"Hopefully she can be revived..."

The battle then ends. You will see Toriel pick up the patience soul and walk off screen. At this point you can backtrack to see Toriel sitting at the flower bed in front of the Castle with the patience soul. She will not say anything to you. Continue forward to proceed to Snowed town.

Honesty, OverSouls isn't my main focus rn- RiftTale has my interest much more than OS does-

[unhingedselfships]

hydrangea for maji, carnation for aki, aster for kir, sage for dai? ♡

This one got long XD the other 3 are under the cut c:

Hydrangea– What’s something about you only s/i understands? What do only you understand about s/i?

Majima is settled on the middle seat of the overstuffed couch, arms stretched across the back. Kimi is flopped to his side, head resting on the arm, and legs across his lap.

He grins, about to answer, before sputtering indignantly as her bare toes press into his cheek, cutting off whatever he was going to say.

"Liar."

"Ya didn' let me say anything!" 

She grins at his indignation, "Didn't have to, I know you. Whatever you were gonna say was gonna be complete bull so you could avoid anything resembling real vulnerability."

He glares flatly down at her, but her grin never wavers.

Her face softens as she begins to answer on his behalf, "we both share this sort of… We have what most people would consider odd feelings, about our respective appearances."

He winces, "Do ya have ta go there?"

"Shush. Anyway. Neither of us is exactly… happy. With our appearance. Or at least parts of it. We have things we do like, and are proud of, though that can fluctuate. But there is plenty we don't like as well. To put it gently. And yet, we're both very appearance driven people."

She shifts, turning to settle into his side, "Its kind of hard to explain? Or maybe that's just me? But we both like to put in a lot of effort, even knowing that because of how we feel, we'll probably end up let down. I don't think a lot of people quite get that... That we're not being vain, but trying to mask, to hide, the things we can't stand," she glances up at Majima, "Or put them out on display as a weird sort of act of rebellion."

She glances up at Majima, who is pointedly looking across the room.

Stifling a giggle, she shares in a conspiratorial whisper, “He doesn’t really do vulnerability.”

He gives an indignant “Oi!” and she cackles as he playfully shoves her into the floor.

Carnation– What’s something about s/i that fascinates you?

Akiyama gives a wry grin, "this girl's sleep patterns are absolutely insane. I'm not the best at keeping a regular schedule either, but she puts me to shame. I have no clue how she functions."

(A faint shout of "I don't" can be heard in the distance)

Aster– What would you consider a symbol of your relationship with s/i?

Kiryu blinks, his brow furrowing. His eyes quickly dart down to the simple band on his finger, then back up.

K snorts, leaning over the back of his chair, "Yeah the rings are a literal symbol. I think they want something more well… symbolic? Maybe." She shrugs.

He closes his eyes, that contemplative-concentration look he gets when he tries to remember something settling over his features. 

K jolts slightly as Kiryu's eyes suddenly pop back open, and he gives a small self satisfied smile. 

It takes him just a moment to dig into a pocket before presenting a battered old key chain, with a single key on it, "It's the key to the house we share," he clarifies, "but-"

"You still have that old thing!?" She cuts him off, then turns sheepish, "ah, sorry."

He snorts lightly, rolling his eyes, "Of course I still have it. You gave it to me. I still don't really get it."

"Oh," a soft flush on her face, "Well is a monkey, like you. Your Chinese zodiac I mean. Earth monkey specifically, so it was too perfect to pass up."

He eyes the dangling gift, a cutesy monkey face, with a little dark green stone dangling from its own loop of the same chain.

"Did you really never…" she trails off.

"No."

"You must have been so confused," the start of a giggle in her voice.

It was his turn to ignore an embarrassed blush, "You gave it to me," he repeated, "It didn't matter what it was supposed to mean."

Sage– If you and s/i could live together, forever as immortals, would you do it? Why or why not?

Daigo tilts his head, gaze distant and thoughtful, "I know this is something she thinks about. It's a nice thought, in theory. Spending eternity together. As a fantasy, But in reality? I'm not sure she likes the idea if it's grounded in reality. All of eternity, here? Even together, we," he sighs, his whole demeanor shifting to something melancholic, "We're both tired. But I look forward to the years we do have." 

[wolken-himmel]

In which (Y/n) surprises Jack with a cat plushie with the pattern of a cactus, insisting that it fit him perfectly.

Although Jack rejects the plushie at first, he seems to grow fond of it rather quickly.

Request by @aislonely.

"By the Great Seven, what is this abomination?"

Jack looked at the strange cat plushie in your hands warily, and he wouldn't take it from you, no matter how much you urged him to. His ears stood up high as he continued to eye it; eventually, his face contorted into a grimace of confusion and disgust.

"It's obviously a cat with the pattern of a cactus," you explained and rolled your eyes playfully. "It couldn't have been anything else, Jack."

"Why does something like this exist—"

"I saw it in Sam's store the other day and had to buy it for you— because cacti are your thing!"

Although Jack couldn't deny that he felt flattered by your thoughtfulness, he still shook his head and pushed you away when you tried to plant the plushie into his hands. "But I don't need a plushie. I'm not a child," he muttered in frustration, especially when you wouldn't cease your attempts of giving it to him.

"Everyone needs a plushie," you insisted, but he didn't look convinced at all. So, you blew a strand of hair out of your face and rolled your eyes. "Fine... since you don't seem convinced... How about you keep the plushie for a week, and if you don't like it, then you'll just return it to me?"

An exasperated sigh escaped his lips. "Why are humans so insistent..."

"Is that a yes," you asked hopefully.

"I suppose."

°°°

After a few days of the cat plushie simply sitting on his windowsill in his minimalistic room, Jack had finally decided to get a closer look at your curious gift. It was the last day of him keeping the plushie, anyway. And just because he found the plushie's concept silly and its use unnecessary didn't mean that he hated the poor plushie. No, the fact that you had actively thought if him when buying it — it actually made his heart flutter a bit in happiness.

So, just for your sake, and since he was sure that he wouldn't like it anyway, he eventually sat down one peaceful evening after training, and took a closer look at the strange object.

The cat smiled up at him happily with its eyes closed. Its fur was a light green, adorned with a few pink petals here and there; the pattern seemed to imitate a cactus in bloom, now that he looked at the cacti on his windowsill. But it wasn't just the absurd appearance that drew him in, but also the way how the plushie squeezed together in his hands, and how his hands glided along the smooth fabric easily.

And the best thing about the plushie was that he could smell a faint trace of your scent on it, but only when he buried his face in it and closed his eyes in utter concentration. Your scent brought him so much peace that he struggled to open his eyes again, and the softness of the plushie made it so that he didn't want to let go.

It didn't take long before he, with an iron grip on the cat plushie, threw himself into his bed and fell asleep promptly. And he couldn't deny that this was the best sleep he had had in the last weeks.

So, it was even worse when in the morning, he wasn't awoken by the sunlight streaming through the window but by your sudden appearance in his room.

And boy, the look on your face when you had caught him cuddling with the plushie in his sleep.

"Jack, you're so cute!!"

At once, the beastman had jolted upwards in alarm, his sharp eyes gazing around his room in search for the intruder. With the plushie protectively stowed away in his left arm, he raised his right hand, about to strike the culprit.

Never would he have thought that it was you.

You sat there, at the side of his bed, with large, watery, puppy eyes and were gazing at the Savanaclaw student and the plushie intently. Much to his dismay, your lips were contorted into a large, shit-eating grin, which is why he tried to hide the plushie beneath his pillow. But it was too late; you had seen everything, already.

"W-What are you doing here?" Jack stuttered out, breathing heavily.

The grin on your lips grew larger. "I just wanted to retrieve the cat plushie because a week has passed since I've given it to you. Remember my deal that I would take it back if you didn't like it?" You wiggled your eyebrows at him mockingly, especially when his head grew a bright red.

"Well, you can take it back," Jack grumbled and threw the plushie right at you with such force that you almost fell to the floor. Luckily, that didn't happen, but the air was knocked out of your lungs when the plushie landed in your arms. "I don't need it. It's useless. It would collect dust on my windowsill, anyway."

You raised an eyebrow at his antics. "It surely didn't look like it was 'useless'..." you grumbled and rolled your eyes. "But if you don't want this cute plushie, I'll just have to give it back to Sam... and someone else will buy it... and it will be gone forever."

"No!" Jack had cried out before realising.

"Hah, got you!"

His shoulders slouched forward, he exhaled in utter frustration and embarrassment. "Alright, maybe it grew on me a little bit..."

"I knew you would love it," you cooed. "And that's why you should keep it."

In a split second, the plushie had been ripped out of your arms and was now in the protective arms of its owner again. Although Jack looked relieved and happy, he couldn't help but glare at you threateningly as he muttered, "You cannot tell anyone about Mr. Snuggles, okay?"

"Mr. Snuggles—?" you snorted out before breaking out into a full-blown fit of laughter.

Jack attempted to silence you with a glare, but it simply wouldn't work. "H-Hey!" he cried out and petted the plushie. "Stop laughing, (Y/n)..."

[escape-from-arcadia]

Ladies, gents, and everybody in- and un-between, let's make some noise for your favorite little punk rocker: Maggie Hartt!

This is Maggie Hartt.

She's 21 years old, demigirl (she/they). Oddly enough, Maggie is actually a nickname from a nickname for her chosen name (Madeline -> Maddie -> Maggie), but she's cool with any of the above names. She'll usually just introduce herself as Hartt.

Maggie is a little chaos gremlin. Upbeat and sociable, they're big on jokes and making people laugh. No one takes them seriously, which they're not as big on, but they figure that if they can at least get people happy and excited, that counts for something, right? That means they have a purpose- a meaning- a role to play? Right? They're more intelligent than people give them credit for.

They're in their own band (Heart x Beat!) where they're the drummer and composer. Their mom was also in her own band and their dad was a music teacher, so they grew up learning all sort of instruments, but they're a big fan of the drums and guitar. Drums give them a place to steady their beat and focus their energy. They also like it when they know people trust them to take them seriously and rely on them for keeping rhythm. To be honest, they just like the guitar because it give them an excuse to look cool.

Maggie 100% human, but both Douxie + Zoe+ Archie and the Wizard Council have had an eye on her for the sheer amount of feral wild witch energy she radiates. Then ADP learns that the magic energy she's got is from spending too much time with her girlfriend who's the actual witch :) My OC Selene (she/her) is her girlfriend. Maggie did once also date Zoe, but they decided they'd be better off friends; it was actually by dating Zoe that Maggie met Selene.

My personal hc to explain the next bit: Magic is not necessarily in blood; all people have an inherent ability to perform magic. Prolonged exposure increases the person's potential to perform magic. There are other factors that go into being able to perform magic and how well you use it (emotion, book studies/training, experience, experimentation, but that's my hc. And so, Mags has tried to perform magic before while dating Zoe, but things didn't end up really well. But Selene has seen a future where Maggie was involved in something magical so she and Zoe have been slowly trying to get them to focus their energy into magic. This meme actually is footage of Selene taking Maggie to see Zoe for their weekly lessons.

Appearance-wise, I wanted to give her a lot of angles and patterns in contrast to Selene, who is flowy and minimalistic for the most part. The bright colored hair was picked to contrast Zoe and Douxie's (and they'll jokingly insist it's 100% natural). They're the only one of my TOA OCs who has grown been in Arcadia their entire life. Out of some relatively normal character designs, I wanted them to embrace the fantastical and chaos that Arcadia is home to.

I don't think I can write anything for them at the moment because I'm going to be drowning in work until May, but I can draw some fun art with them interacting with TOA characters. I could write some flash fic or drabbles from time to time, but wooo!! Maggie!!

Organized short information template under the cut.

Basic Info

Full Name: Madeline Hartt

Nickname: Maggie, Maddie, Mags, Magpie, Carrotsticks

Age: 21

Gender/Pronouns: Demigirl (She/They)

Nationality: American

Profession: Drummer and composer for rock band, Heart x Beat!

Appearance (I experimented with this section and wrote it from the perspective of Zoe.)

A familiar face with bright green hair, streaked with orange and tied up in messy pigtails, walked though the shop door. Correction: they tumbled through the shop door, more whirlwind than person. Her amber eyes glinted with mischief as she bobbed towards the counter, bouncing her head to the music blaring over the speakers. Each step they took seemed to take them off the ground, as if they were a little weightless, unable to be controlled by the laws of physics.

She was only a little taller than me, dressed in a long-sleeved striped shirt, a cropped and sleeveless jean jacket layered on top, despite the heat outside. Their ripped black jeans jangled with the variety of key chains and charms tied around the belt loops. Their grin was so wide, it would more be actually described as 'a showing of teeth.' "'Sup Zo!"

-

Personality

Maggie is a little chaos gremlin. They're honest and have a tendency to just say things as they come to mind. She's incredibly upbeat, energetic, and sociable. They live to make people smile and be happy by telling jokes (and pulling pranks). Very few people take her seriously, thinking that it's impossible for Maggie to be calm and serious, but she's more intelligent than people give her credit for. They work hard to reach their goals, especially when they know people are counting on them or that their actions can help others. They have a funky need to feel needed and like they're making a contribution, a side-effect of people not taking them seriously (and often cruelly telling them that).

Likes: Video games, bright lights and colors, music, visiting the aquarium

Dislikes: The countryside, walking home alone at night, not being taken seriously

Strengths: Tiny but strong, strong affinity for magic, honest, sociable

Weaknesses: Reckless, maybe a little bit too feral, need to feel depended on, self-esteem issues.

-

Family: Addison (mother), Markus (father), Sam (sister)

Friends: Selene Acies, Zoe Ashildr, Hisirdoux Casperan, Claire Nuñez, Toby Domzalski, Krel Tarron, Cayden Tran, Raizri, Zelos

-

Misc

Other info:

Maggie is a lesbian.

She tends to tap her fingers or feet

When they're anxious, they bite their nails

She's the only one of my OCs to have been born and raised in Arcadia Oaks

Their nails are painted in alternating green, orange, and black

She's big on knocking on surfaces around her (walls, countertops, railings)

They graduated with a BA in Sound Design and BFA in Music Performance from Arcadia University (I made that place up. I made that up just now).

She'd 100% be a gnome bard in a DND campaign.

The more I think about it, the more I realize they're probably neurodivergent.

Their Story: Living life to its fullest, embracing chaos, giving yourself credit where credit is due, and learning to love yourself.

-

How They Fit in the TOA-Verse

Usually I'd include the character's backstory, but since she's so new, I don't have one fully constructed for Maggie yet. But I do have some ideas as to how they fit into my gang of TOA OCs

There's an entire plot going on with my TOA OCs where they go through their own journey that is concurrent with the events of TOA, so to show Maggie's role, I'll give this quick run-through of all of my OCs:

Cayden Tran (they/them): A cryptid investigator who has a small rivalry with Eli (at least that's what Eli thinks). They're the one who meets all of the other characters and unite them together, acting a bit like Arcadia Oaks' secret keeper.

Alaraizrilados/Raizri (she/her): A troll who has lived a very sheltered life but yearns to explore (very 'Little Mermaid-). She explores Arcadia a lot a night to gather ingredients for her business of making magical herbal medicines for trolls. But things go awry one night when she finds a mysterious plant, and whoops now this troll looks like a human and needs to find a way to turn back into a troll before people mistake her for a changeling, even though she's been nothing but nice her entire life. :) She's the healer/therapist of the group.

Zelos (He/They/It): A Blank-bot turned assassin, who was originally took orders from a bounty hunter group out to capture the Tarrons. His ship crash landed and his wires got a little fried. Now they're trying to find purpose without taking orders and become their own person, discovering their identity while debating on whether or not they should capture the Tarrons. It's the most trained fighter of the group and the most left-brain leaning on, despite not having a brain...

Selene Acies (she/her): A divination and cosmic witch born in the late Victorian-era. She's met Zoe when she was a kid and met her and Douxie again in the 1920s. She's obsessed with the stars and gets random prophecies. Some are helpful, other are not, but all are true. She does get one about the end of the world and how to stop it! That's neat! :D Selene is the most trained in magic (though not really for combat) and is the future-seer of the group.

Maggie Hartt (she/they): A normal human who shouldn't have any business being involved in magical matters, but gets roped in after dating Zoe and then Selene. They bring wildcard energy to the group and tries to make everyone feel less sad (because honestly Maggie is the least fucked up after Raizri out of all of my OCs, which is saying something).

If you read this far, props to you. Have a cookie. Thanks for listening to me ramble about an OC I made at 2am. Also, yes, I did not proof read this post before posting.

[crashdevlin]

Leftoverture 3- Carry On

Author’s Note: Don’t get me wrong, I loved the finale, but I was thinking about how much I miss Dean and I couldn’t stop thinking about ways I could have him back so…I’m going canon divergent while being as close to canon as possible. ‘Cause that’s how Cassie do. This is where Leftoverture officially crosses over with Crash Into Me!

Summary: Sam tries to convince Dean to talk to his widow, but it takes a visit from an old friend to get him to do the right thing.

Pairing: Dean x OFC

Word count: 3755

Story Warnings: angst, Post-barn scene sads, mentions of major character deaths (Dean and AU!Sam), mentions of depression, memory fuckery,

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, get off the phone. Who are you texting?” Dean asked, looking over at Sam’s thumbs tapping out a message.

“I’m...just letting some people know that you’re back, okay? What?” Sam defended, pulling his phone out of Dean’s reach as his brother tried to grab it.

“She better not be part of that group text, Sam. I will kick your lanky ass.”

“Dean, come on.”

“She has mourned me! She’s probably just starting to get okay and you want me to break that? Not to mention the kid. How are we supposed to explain to her that I’m just suddenly not dead anymore?” Dean pulled over onto the shoulder and glared at Sam until he rolled his eyes and sighed, hitting the X to take his sister-in-law’s number away from the list that included Bobby 2.0, Jody, Donna, Charlie 2.0, and Garth. “Thank you.”

“It’s only been a month. You think she’s starting to get over you already?” Sam finished tapping out his text as Dean pulled back onto the interstate.

“I think I’m a threat to her life as long as I’m in her life, man. I mean, that’s why it took us so long to get together in the first place, because I knew that me being a hunter was gonna put her in the ground and it was just lucky for all of us that it put me in the ground before her.”

“Don’t say th-”

“It’s better for her to think I’m still dead!” Dean exploded. “If she knows I’m alive, she’ll come back to the bunker and she’s gonna end up dead and that’ll be on me! Okay, it’s better if she thinks I’m dead and we keep it that way!”

“So, I guess you’ve made up your mind on this one?” Sam asked.

“Yes!” Dean nodded, somehow still keeping his eyes on the road. “You know what, yes, I’ve made up my mind. Because she deserves to live a life that I’m not ruining. She never wanted the job to encroach on her life, or Rebel’s, okay? Fuck, if I ended up getting that little girl hurt, I could nev--and you know she only agreed to marry me in the first place because Chuck was gonna kill us all anyway and he’s not a problem anymore and what happened to my ring when I bit it? You didn’t burn it with me, did you, because that was a really good silver ring and if you melted it with me, I’m gonna be pissed.”

Sam shook his head in disappointment. “Your wife was wearing it on her thumb last time I saw it.”

Dean sighed and licked his lips. “It’s better this way, Sam. I know you don’t see it, but it’s better.”

“Right. You, uh, you remember when you guys were ‘just friends’ and she started dating that asshole that didn’t know what ‘no’ meant?” Dean’s jaw clenched tight at the memory. “You remember how pissed off you got that she was dating someone, let alone a Dom dickbag like him, and how you spent the entire weekend trying to get dirt on him to use to get her to dump him?”

"He was tryin' to put things in her while she was drunk! He deserved a bullet through the skull for that shit and he's lucky she wouldn't let me go talk to him."

"Yeah, I know. He was a piece of shit, but you didn't know that when we got there. You just didn’t like him because he was dating her."

"I'm a good judge of character and she is not. She dates douchebags. She always has. I mean, look at her cheating son-of-a-bitch ex-husband. If she's dating them, they're douchebags."

Sam rolled his eyes, obviously catching Dean’s self-deprecating undertone in that sentence. "Okay, but you're just gonna let her date someone else? You're gonna let her find some other douchebag to date that you won't be able to save her from?"

"I didn't save her from Mike or Drew. She was already half out the door on both of them before I interceded with either. And I know what you're doing and it's not gonna work." Dean pointed his finger in Sam’s face. "You're not gonna get me all jealous so I go find her because I'm afraid of her getting over me and moving on. I want her to move on. I want her to have a good life. That's the whole point here, man."

"Dean, she's not going to move on. She's gonna be devastated the rest of her life because you aren't-"

"So, we should make it worse by putting her through it twice?!" Dean snapped. "We should make her have to watch me burn another time, right? We should make her clear her shit out of the Bunker in a few years too? We should make her live with the hope that one day I'll manage to make it home again? We should put her heart back together just to shatter it into pieces again when I die permanently? Fuck you, Sam. I can't do it to her. I just...no."

Sam took a deep breath and shook his head sadly. "Fine."

"It's better this way. It's just better."

"Sure. It’s better.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was something cleansing about a simple werewolf hunt. Sam was being a little overbearing, but Dean understood why. Sam didn’t want to see him die anymore than he wanted to die again. There were only two wolves and they went down easy. It was a textbook hunt...just like the vampire cult should have been.

Sam shook away memories of the night in the barn and followed an energized Dean out to the Impala. It wouldn’t happen again. Not anytime soon. Dean was around to stay. Sam would make sure of it.

“So, hit the motel, pizza and beer, head back to the bunker in the morning. Did you report my death to the fire department because I’m still wanting that job and I’ll have to think of one hell of an excuse if you told them I died.” Dean shrugged, continuing before Sam could respond. “I’m gonna need to come up with an excuse either way, but an excuse for a month of radio silence is easier than an excuse for comin’ out of the Lazarus Pit, ya know?”

“I...didn’t say anything to them, Dean. It was really low on my list of priorities to tell the Lebanon Volunteer Fire Department that Dean Campbell was dead.”

“Awesome. I’ll figure out what to tell them. For now...pizza.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“No, I know, it was a crazy situation, but I honestly think getting lost in the Yukon without a cell phone was probably the best thing that could have happened to me." Dean laughed into the phone as he walked into the library. "Yeah, exactly. Never gonna take a warm, dry bed for granted again. Well, thank you so much for understanding, Captain. I'm excited to get training. That's gonna be...yeah, I'm gonna be there. Thanks again."

Dean smiled as he tucked his phone into his pocket. "He bought it. Thanks for putting those fake Canadian news pieces up. Appreciate it."

"Okay, but what if someone else searches your fake name, Dean?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "You think she's Googling me?" He stepped forward and looked down at Sam sitting at the library table. "She Googles me and she'll find a story about a man named Dean Campbell getting lost in the Yukon and surviving on moose and wolverine and melted snow. No pic, no identifying words. She'll look at it, say 'It is a miracle this guy survived' and then she'll move on to the next search result, okay? I don't understand why you're all up in my business about this but-"

"You don't miss them?" Sam asked, pushing his hair out of his face and leaning forward.

Dean bit his lip and shook his head. "No, I do not."

Sam stood and looked down into his brother's eyes. "Well, I do."

"Well, they're staying gone." Dean patted his brother's shoulder and walked toward the hall. "Good talk."

He sat on the edge of his bed and ran his hand down his face. Of course he missed her. Of course he missed the little girl he treated as his own daughter...or...the other Dean treated like a daughter. It was just too difficult. Explaining to his wife was one thing, an easy thing. She’d come back in a heartbeat and it would all be fine between them. She wouldn’t care that he wasn’t exactly the same in body, that he had different scars and a slightly different pattern of freckles or that his hair wasn’t quite right even after trying to make it work for four damn days.

She fell for him because of how he treated her, how safe she felt with him, how he made her feel. All of that was in the memories. How he felt about her was in the memories, too. He loved her in a way he'd never been able to let himself love anyone else. She was so much different than any other woman he'd considered making a life with because she was like all the best parts of them all mixed together. She was smart like Cassie Robinson, badass like Jo Harvelle, understanding of the Life without being part of it...with a kid, just like Lisa. He remembered that...and he knew that he'd never find another woman like her.

That was okay. He didn't really want another one: another woman, partner, wife. He couldn’t see himself opening up like that to someone other than his short little badass. And Sam was right that he didn't really want her with someone else, either...but she deserved it. She deserved to get over him and move on to greener pastures. So he had to stay away. For her good, he had to stay dead.

For the good of the little girl, too. If he just came back from the dead, it would completely fuck that little girl's understanding of life and death. It would fuck her up for life.

Dean sighed, picking up his phone and kissing his lock screen; the picture they took on the beach for their honeymoon. He held the phone over his heart for a minute and lied back, staring at the ceiling until sleep took him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean smiled as he sat in a folding chair on the side of a soccer field, watching a short blonde girl dribble a ball between her feet on the green grass. "She's gettin' good," he commented to himself.

"She missed tryouts this year," a familiar voice said. Dean gasped a little as he turned in his seat to look at the angel in the beige trenchcoat. "They moved back to Florida too late for her to be placed on a team."

"Cas? Are you--is this--this is a dream."

"Yes. But...my presence is not." Castiel smiled as Dean stood and wrapped him in a hug. "Jack saved me from the Cosmic Entity from the Empty. We've been improving Heaven."

Dean pulled back and sniffled as he slapped a hand on Cas' shoulder. "Man, where have you been, then? We've missed you."

"Angels stay in Heaven now. Jack and I thought it was best to keep our interference to a minimum." Cas chuckled. "I'm not technically supposed to be here now."

Dean licked his lips. "Well, then...what's with the, uh, Freddy Krueger you're pulling?"

"Dean requested it. He knows what's been happening on Earth, that you've taken on his memories and essentially become him, and he knows that you are avoiding Cassie."

Dean scoffed and stepped back from the angel. "I'm sure he's got an opinion on all this."

"He does. He has a strong opinion on what you're doing and what you should be doing." Castiel stepped closer. "He told me to tell you to get your head out of your ass. He said that, if you have his memories, you're in love with her too and you need to go to her. He knows you couldn’t live with losing her forever...so don't lose her."

"Cas, she's better off without me."

"Is she?" the angel challenged. "Because she’s Dean Winchester’s widow. Doesn't that put a target on her back?"

Dean pressed his lips together in a thin line and looked away. She could handle it...right? "She's got protections...and we taught her to fight. She's gonna be fine."

"Dean told me to tell you that if you don't get in his car and drive to Florida, he's going to 'rip your pansy lungs out'," Cas said, doing air quotes. Dean scoffed. "He was very adamant that you go to her."

"Fine. But it's gonna hurt her. I'm gonna hurt her." Dean was absolutely serious but Cas just smiled and shook his head a little. "Hey, uh, Cas? Before you go...I'm...I'm not gonna get to see you again, right? So, don't you think we should talk about-"

"I think that would be a bit redundant." Castiel’s smile brightened, crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes. "Dean and I have spoken at length about my sacrifice and the words spoken before Billie and I were taken to the Empty."

"And?"

"And Dean Winchester’s Heaven is full of people who love and cherish him...who see him for the hero he is. He never believes he's going to hurt any of them. You should learn from his example."

"DEAN! Look!" Dean looked behind him to see the girl kick the soccer ball at the goal. He couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face.

"Great job, Youngblood!" he shouted before turning back around. The angel was gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean smiled tightly at Sam as he walked into the kitchen the next morning. “So, uh...I’m gonna take a few days...drive down to Florida.”

Sam’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah...Castiel came to me in a dream last night. Said the original me is up there in Heaven and he’s very unhappy with my choice.”

“Really?” Sam was obviously amused.

“Yeah. I don’t know if it was really him or not. Maybe it was just my brain kickin’ me in the ass but...I’m gonna go get ‘em back.”

“Thank you. I was hoping you’d come to your senses.”

“Yeah, yeah, anyway...I’ll be back in a couple days. I’ve got training on Monday so...it’ll be a short trip. Maybe she’ll come back, maybe she won’t but…” He shrugged. “Don’t know ‘til I go talk to her.”

“Good luck, man.”

Dean nodded before heading to the garage. He had plenty of time to get nervous as he drove toward his in-laws’ house in North Florida. A month wasn’t too long. She’d gone longer without him in the past, but...he was alive back then. She knew he’d be back eventually.

He parked the Impala down the street. He wanted to see her before he talked to her. He needed to see how she was working through his death...if she even needed him. Dead Dean told him to go, but if she was moving on, he’d just get back in the car.

She was on the porch when he arrived, coming around the neighbor’s house to hide in the shadows around the side of her parent’s house. “It’s still hard. I don’t think it’s ever not gonna be hard. I still keep wanting to hear that damn Impala coming down the road. But even if I did hear it...I know it’d be Sam.” Dean bit his bottom lip. She was still mourning him. “I don’t know, Manda, but Erik has been a godsend.” His eyebrows went up. Who the fuck is Erik? Did she move on already? “He’s the only reason I get out of bed most mornings. He’s been helping a lot with Aria, driving her to school in the morning and making breakfast. Oh, he makes the best pancakes.” She gave a small chuckle. “Not that I need pancakes. I’ve put on, like, fifteen pounds since he died. Yeah, that is a lot. Erik doesn’t think so either...and Dean wouldn’t care...but I care”

Dean watched her shrug before shaking her head. “I don’t know. He seems nice but...my parents didn’t even know Dean and I got married, so of course Erik doesn’t know. He doesn’t understand...but he’s helping anyway.” She sighed and hummed a little into the air, staring up at the moon. “It’s still just really hard.”

Dean watched as she finished her phone call to her best friend and kept looking up into the night sky. He had to force himself to step around the side of the house and toward her. “Who’s Erik?” he asked. It was the only thing he could think to ask. Green eyes behind thick, dark glasses went wide as she turned to look at him.

“Dean?” she squeaked.

“Mostly,” he whispered as she threw her phone to skim across the grass and launched herself at him. He closed his eyes as she wrapped her arms around him, overwhelmed by the feel of her warmth against him. “Come on, Crash, I taught you better than this. Where’s your silver and holy water, baby?”

“Inside,” she sobbed out into his chest. “But I know you’re you. I can feel it.”

He pressed his lips to her hair and took a step back, leaning down a bit to look directly into her eyes. “I am me, but I’m also...I’m also not. Can we...can we take a walk?”

“Of course!” she agreed, sniffling and wiping at her eyes under her glasses.

They started to walk out of the yard onto the street. “Okay, but before I get into my whole thing...who the fuck is Erik?”

“Oh, he’s a maintenance guy, works with my dad. When I moved to the Bunker, Erik rented my room.”

Dean nodded, his lips pursed. “So, he’s your parents’ tenant and you’re letting him take your daughter to school?”

“My parents trust him...I trust him.” She stuck her hands in her pockets and shrugged. “He’s a nice guy...and he’s a writer, too. He was shocked by the number of notebooks I have. He used to do all of his writing on his computer, but he’s started writing in notebooks since I showed him the versatility of handwriting a story. He said it was like going back to simpler times.”

“Okay. I guess...so, he’s just…”

“He’s just a guy that lives at the house.” She looked over at him as he jammed his hands in his jacket pockets. “So, how are you back? Sam burned you. You shouldn’t be back.”

“You remember when Chuck was destroying the other universes and the other versions of me and Sam showed up? They were fleeing their world.”

“I remember. Sam wouldn’t take his hair down.”

“Right, well...um…” He cleared his throat. “Couple weeks ago, Man-bun Sam died in South America. Werewolves...and Dean couldn’t take it and he did a full wipe of his memories so that he wouldn’t have to remember and Sam went to Rowena to get her to fix it. Her version of fixing it was to give him, give me, your husband’s memories.”

“So, you’re-” She stopped in the middle of the street and turned to look at him. “You’re not my Dean?”

“Of course I am. I’ve got all of his memories. I’ve got all of his love.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Slightly different body...and a different soul. Your Dean is in Heaven. But I’m just like him. I’m exactly like him, Crash.”

She swallowed and searched his face for a few moments before she looked away. “The day we met...why was I crying?”

She was quizzing him, testing his memories, seeing how much like her husband he really was. “Mike left you,” he said quietly. “It wasn’t the first time...or the last. Rebel was about...two years old and you were tryin’ to hold yourself together. We shared some beer and talked about the monster Sam and I put down...and you gave me your number.”

“You, uh, you had a tattoo that I designed...it burned so you don’t have it now, but what-”

“I’ll get the rune again,” he interrupted. “So you can astral to me again.”

“Oh, it is you,” she whispered.

“It is me.” He wrapped her in a hug again and she grabbed at his jacket to hold him to her. “I don’t know how to go about this, though. How are we gonna explain to the kid that-”

“I-I don’t know.” She pulled back and shook her head. “I don’t know if she even caught on to the fact that you were dead...all I said was ‘gone’. I just said you were gone.”

That might make it easier. “Is she back at the house?”

“No. She’s with her father. It’s just Erik and my parents at the house right now.”

“Do your parents know I died? I’m just trying to determine if we can go in or if I’m sleeping in the car tonight.” He smiled at her as she sighed and looked away.

“I told them you broke up with me.”

“So, can I come inside?”

“You’ll have to sleep on the couch...unless you wanna sleep on the floor in Aria’s room. I’ve been sleeping with her on her loft bed since Erik has my old room and bed and all that.”

He smiled and headed toward the house, her hand in his. “She still have that big pile of stuffed animals under the loft?” She nodded and he smirked. “Then I’ll sleep in her zoo.”

She led him into the house and started up the stairs. They were halfway up the stairs when the door to the room that used to be hers opened. “Cass?” a voice asked. Dean stopped in his tracks.

“Didn’t mean to wake you, Erik.”

“It’s okay. I was just worried when you didn’t come back in. Are you-” Shadows fell over Dean and Crash as a figure stepped to the top of the stairs. “Oh, shit.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed as he stepped around his wife and up a few stairs. “What the hell are you doin’ here?” he demanded.

“You’re dead,” the blue-eyed man squeaked.

“About as dead as you’re about to be, Chuck.”

~~~~

The Kitchen Sink - @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @wasabiwitteks @rainbowkisses31 @rissbennett @mariekoukie6661 @officiallyunofficialperson @dolphincliffs @mrs-meghan-winchester @gayspacenerd @foxyjwls007 @ilovefanfic86 @marvelfansworld @f-yeahfandoms @wonderlandfandomkingdom @hhiggs @sev3nruby @hobby27 @paintballkid711 @divadinag @thewhiterabbit42 @fantasymyth-1 @queenoftheunderdark @cosicas-cuquis @superfanficnatural @letsby @supernatural-bellawinchester @onethirstyunicorn @swinchester27 @chalicia @screechingartisancashbailiff @death-unbecomes-you @dayasvalkyrie @paryl @wereallbrokenangels @the-american-witch @that-one-gay-girl @tatted-trina6 @sunshineandwings86 @lunarmoon8 @wheezyeds @vicmc624 @couldabeenamermaid @vulgar-library

[starneko123]

Ensnaring Sorceress

Something for @ninibear3000 OC's Asma and her amazing simp Sanayah!

Oh

Put your loving hand out, baby

I'm beggin'

"Korë? I swear I have heard that name somewhere." Asma announced as she leaned on her bo staff and Sanayah took her place beside Asma crossing her arms and looking at their preceptors. "Nova Korë Nagako is popular in Outworld because of her status amongst other things. Along with the rest of her family." Fujin informed looking at Asma and Raiden making eye contact with Sanayah. "She is to arrive in Earthrealm today near a village and she has been doing so for the past few days but only staying for perhaps a few minutes then leaving." Raiden explained, "You will find her and try to get information as to why she has been making frequent visits and have not given reason to those visits." Fujin finished and the two elemental students were on their way.

"Do you think she's a demon?" Asma asked her friend as she twirled her bo in elaborate ways to keep her distracted "Lord Raiden said she was Edenian like Kitana and Jade. But maybe she's half of something either way why would someone of Outworld come to Earthrealm and to a random village no less." Sanayah questioned freely in the air even though she was talking to Asma. The said airbender shrugged and let out a dreamy sigh at the mention of the green bo staff wielder "I don't know. People of Outworld come to Earthrealm for many things just like we go to Outworld for things...you know?" Asma mentioned and she was going to continue until they reached the village or well the village's forest. They were on the village grounds.

Now they were keeping their eyes out. She could be anywhere."You know what's messed up? We don't even know what she looks like all we know is her name." Sanayah mumbled as she let out a groan and summoned her sword which caused the sound of thunder to sound about the village and far off.

Beggin', beggin' you

Put your loving hand out, baby

Beggin', beggin' you

Put your loving hand out, darling

Korë was humming to herself while gently picking the flowers and pulling the stems out. She was taking her sweet time and she didn't even intend to rush or be rushed. She was on her last batch of flowers and herbs till she heard the sound of thunder. She inwardly groaned as the name popped in her head of who it could be and it would only be a matter of time before she felt a strong breeze shake her body and send her and her alone in the air. She kept the same pace as she continued to pluck the flowers and herbs.

"Is that her?" Asma asked herself and Sanayah knelt and saw her...picking flowers? "She doesn't look like a threat," Sanayah said even though Korë had her back turned and they couldn't see her face her posture and aura did not seem threatening whatsoever. "Just because it doesn't look threatening doesn't mean it is threatening Nayah." Asma told her as she reached for her bo staff and she heard Sanayah hum as a response and it was in agreement. The both of them sucked in a breath as Korë stood up and stretched. The two students seemed to be holding their breath until she turned around.

Korë let out a small sigh as she stood and brought her hands to her back. She kept her lower body still and she moved her upper body back and she kept leaning back until her back made a popping sound and she let out an irritated moan. She turned away from the bushes and looked down at her basket. It was full and she was getting tired. She dragged out the ribbon that was holding her hair in a bun. She went to a standstill when she heard shuffling nearby and as many times she has been here she never saw animals.

Riding high, when I was king

Played it hard and fast, 'cause I had everything

Walked away, wonderin' then

But easy come and easy go

And it would end

Sanayah let out an audible gasp as Korë turned around "She is so...pretty." A basic answer but there were a lot of words for her. "Now is not the time not the place Sanay-" Asma was cut off mid-sentence by an energy blast. It blasted her back a few feet but there was no damage to her person as she got back up quicker than Korë expected. "Such a beautiful for stalkers. What brings you here?" Korë said as she adjusted her clothing and her claws. "That's the question we should be asking you, Princess," Asma said as she appeared next to Sanayah "You didn't go unnoticed." She finished as they both readied their weapons without saying anything else. Korë did the same but instead of using her whip, she thought today would be good to use her black beauty spear.

Korë ran forward and struck her spear into the ground and used it to pivot her body upwards into the air. She curled herself into a ball to turn her body and put her leg out aiming at Asma hitting her with a dropkick and sending both of them to the ground. Korë rolled away and got back on her feet but so did Asma as she kicked herself up and turned to face Korë. Asma made her way to the spear wielder to thrust her bo three times near Korë's face but all three missed. Asma did a spinning move and did another thrust to Korë's exposed stomach and it landed. As Korë made a guttural noise Asma didn't hesitate to send another blow with her bo staff to Korë's back sending her down on one knee. Korë grunted as she saw Asma get ready to strike her down with the bo but Korë caught the end of it and twisted to where Asma wouldn't loose grip but Korë now had her own grip on it on the opposite end and jabbed Asma in the chest.

Korë was able to whirl the staff around and bring Asma closer to Korë. Now Asma's back was pressed against Korë's chest as she brought the staff to Asma's neck and pressed her head into it. Korë had no intention of killing bringing unconsciousness was the key. Korë was about to put the last blow to the already worn-out Airbender until she was shocked with thunder. She let out a bone-crushing shriek that echoed throughout the forest. The 'thunder' was coming from Sanayah and Asma was able to detach herself from the sorceress before she was shocked as well. When Sanayah saw that she stopped and Korë turned to look at both of them she dropped to her knees and mist started to emit from her body then everything went black.

So why every time I lead you let me go?

Every time I reach, you get me low

Every time I seek, you let me know

But I planted that seed, just let me grow

I'm on my knees while I'm (beggin')

'Cause I don't want to lose (you)

I got my arms all spread

I hope that my heart gets fed

Matter of fact, girl, I'm beggin' (beggin', beggin')

"Did I kill her?!" Sanayah asked in a panic and rushed over to the Outworld Princess and Asma made a face mixed with annoyance and fatigue as she watched her do so. She let out a small whine "Grab her and I'll grab the basket." Asma said as she rolled her eyes and made her way to the said item.

They made their way back to the White Lotus and Korë was awake and walking not protesting whatsoever. All she asked for was her basket and Asma gave it back with no complaints. "Your visitation to Earthrealm was not forewarned. Why?" Raiden inquired and Korë had a very flat look on her face. Trust me, she would be showing respect and kindness if her insides weren't reduced to slush and her back wasn't aching. "Why would I forewarn about plants Lord Raiden?" Korë asked and the conversation continued "I only came to Earthrealm for the soil. Silas has been making progress with renewing Outworld's soil but it's slow work. I momentarily needed Earth's soil for my plants. My mother's and Outworld can vouch for me Thunder God." Korë said as she made her way into his Sky Temple to heal herself.

She created an energy ball and let it levitate around her body, healing different parts and sections. She then heard a knock...two knocks...and then three. "Yes?" Korë as sweetly as she could muster and the door creaked open to a 30-degree angle and out popped two heads. Asma and Sanayah. Korë was able to have a good look at them, Asma had beautiful dark skin that complimented her glowing eyes and pearl white hair that was braided and put in a bun. She was wearing all white but with orange and yellow cloud-like patterns which Korë silently complimented. Sanayah had brown skin and was noticeably taller with or without her hat, she had long black hair and brown eyes she believes. Either way, they were both beautiful in Korë's eyes.

Beggin', beggin' you

Put your loving hand out, baby

Beggin', beggin' you

Put your loving hand out, darling

I need you (yeah) to understand (yeah, oh)

Tried so hard to be your man (hey)

The kind of man you want in the end (oh, oh)

Only then can I begin to live again

An empty shell, I used to be

Shadow of my life was hangin' over me

A broken man that I don't know

Won't even stand the devil's chance to win my soul

"Yes?" Korë asked again looking at the two next-gen elementals crossing her legs in the process but also keeping up with levitating energy ball. Asma was the one to speak up "We- I have your spear." Asma said as she walked into the room and Korë lazily held her hand out. "So I'm Asma." She introduced herself as she sat next to Korë "I'm Sanayah!" Sanayah followed Asma's lead and sat on the other side of Korë. Korë made no sign to move she just made herself comfortable "I'm...Korë." She paused then giggled as if they didn't already know her name. She looked over to Sanayah "I haven't been in the Sky Temple for awhile...mind showing me around?" She asked as her fuschia eyes bore into Sanayah's dark brown and those painted black lips spread into a grin.

And that's how it went. You think someone who was electrocuted by their opposer would be livid. But no...she asked for a tour. "So you're a part of an elemental group and your specific element is thunder and lightning?" Korë had never heard anything like this before and she was interested. "Yes. The person you saw earlier she controls the wind like Lord Fujin." Sanayah clarified and she looked back at Korë "So what about you?" Korë raised a brow "What about me?" Sanayah gestured to Korë's...lovely person "You! Everything about you." She couldn't ask the question. She knew what she wanted to ask but couldn't do it. What's wrong with her now? "Everything about me?" Korë put her clawed finger to her chin in thought.

"I am divine." Korë answered and Sanayah looked intrigued "Divine? I thought you were royalty." Korë nodded "I'm a lot of things. I'm a butterfly." Sanayah laughed but that loving look never left "A butterfly?" Korë hummed in agreement "Stars." It was Sanayah's turn to raise a brow "You're a star?" Korë shook her head "Stars in your eyes." Korë answered as she pointed a clawed finger at Sanayah's face. "I would personally like to call them hearts. But to each their own." Sanayah's said and then it was silent. The comfortable kind.

What we doing? What we chasing?

Why the bottom? Why the basement?

Why we got good shit, don't embrace it?

Why the feel for the need to replace me?

You're on a runway track from the good

I want to paint in a picture telling where we could be at

Like the heart ain't attached where it should

You done give it away, I had it 'til you took it back

But I keep walking on, keep opening doors

Keep hoping for that the call is yours

Keep hoes on hold

'Cause I don't want to live in a broken home

Girl I'm beggin' (beggin', beggin')

Beggin', beggin' you

Put your loving hand out, baby

Beggin', beggin' you

Put your loving hand out, darling

I'm fighting hard (yeah)

To hold my own (to hold my own)

Just can't make it

All alone (all alone)

"It was very nice meeting the both of you," Korë said as she grabbed her basket. It was nice. Truly nice. It could have a home better but still nice. "I just wish that our first encounter could have gone differently," Sanayah said with a somber look on her face "I'll be coming back soon, I can never truly leave Earthrealm." Korë said sending a wink and smile towards Sanayah and waving at Asma. That seemed to brighten Sanayah up.

"You're in love, huh?"

"Shut up."