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ifortom · 1 month ago

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Bad Decisions - T. H. (3)

frat!Tom x Reader - Fake dating AU

Chapter Summary: Friendships are made, questions are answered, and hearts race.

MASTERLIST

W/C: +5K

• DAY 3

"Hey, newest hot topic on campus." You heard it as soon as you left the classroom.

Amber positioned herself by your side as you walked down the university hallway.

"Hey! Is that what people are calling me now?" Amber laughed lightly.

"Well, being seen swapping spit with one of the star players comes with certain consequences." She said, slipping her arm through yours. "Where are you headed now?"

"Uh, I thought I'd grab lunch and then probably head home. I need to catch up on some things I let slide over the weekend." Amber smirked.

"I bet you made good use of that time." You looked at her, wide-eyed. "Oh, stop it! I bet you and Tom spent the whole Sunday snuggled up together."

"Actually, I was nursing a hangover. He suffered having to listen to me complain and swear I'd never drink again."

"That won’t be the last time you’ll have to deal with a hangover if you keep going out with us." She smiled. "Can I join you? I’m starving, and I’ve got some assignments to do too. I’d love the company. Plus, your genius brain could help me out, if you’re up for it, of course!"

You pretend to think for a moment, pouting as if you're contemplating her idea, even though you already know the answer.

"Hmm, I don’t know..." She stops abruptly and stares at you, her caramel eyes pleading. "Alright! No need to look at me like a lost puppy," you say, laughing.

"My lost puppy eyes have gotten me far in life. Where are we going?"

"I was thinking of going to Joe's, do you know it?" She shakes her head. "No way! You're about to try the best carbonara in the world. Let’s go!"

"I have to admit, I haven't eaten this well in a while." Amber said while rubbing her belly.

"I told you."

Despite what people say around campus, Amber is one of the easiest people to talk to that you've ever met. Maybe it helps that you share a lot of mutual interests, but the way she keeps the conversation flowing, never letting an awkward silence settle between topics, proves once again that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover.

The girl with long red hair has a strong personality and big dreams. College wasn’t one of them, but for her parents, she pushes herself harder each day to keep going. She told you that ever since high school, she's had a passion for music and even joined the choir, but she always heard she had no future in it. Harsh words from people who should have been supporting her.

To her parents, a degree has always mattered more than genuine happiness.

She didn’t go into much detail, but she said she joined the cheerleading team to stay at least a little closer to what she enjoys. She knows the girls she hangs out with don’t have the best reputation, and as a result, she carries that same label. But she says she doesn’t care, that she’s happy with what she does, has fun, and has met some lovely people.

You don’t completely agree with the last part, since several people she hangs out with have proven not to be so great after all. But Amber has more contact with them than you do, so there’s not much to discuss.

During lunch, you gave her your full attention, but at the same time, you wondered why she wanted to spend this time with you. It wasn’t something you had imagined would happen. To you, she was just another girl you made friends with at a party, someone with whom you’d never exchange words again, like so many times before.

But Amber also seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say, asking about your major, what motivates you, and your interests.

She walked you back to your apartment and sat down on the floor near the coffee table, with a book and notebook open as she worked on an assignment. You sat down next to her, focusing on the page in front of you.

An hour later, Amber slammed the book shut and poked you with the tip of a pencil.

“I’m bored.”

"You know that phrase is something I hear regularly? In this same position."

"Do you have a lot of study dates?" She says, raising an eyebrow.

"It’s Tom, actually. We spend a lot of time studying together, and after a few minutes, he gets tired and says he’s bored."

"You two spend quite a bit of time together, don’t you? That’s how you got close."

"Yeah, you could say that. We worked on a project together and became friends. It ended up being a routine for him to be here."

"And now you’re dating."

"Oh, we don’t have a label yet. We’re... testing things out."

Amber watched you for a moment before speaking.

"Can I be honest?" You nodded. "It isn't strange to see Tom bringing a girl to one of those events and joining our group for the night. But most of the time, it doesn’t go beyond that. One night. You're his friend first and foremost, and you know how he behaves."

Amber sighed and looked at the table in front of her, her gaze unfocused.

"I don’t want you to end up like one of those girls. I know we barely know each other, but I like you, and I pushed aside my ego to get closer to you because... you seem real. It’s ridiculous, but I don’t know what I’m saying anymore."

"Amber, it’s okay." Your hand found hers and held it. "Take your time."

"I and Tom are friends. He’s one of the few people I can really talk to, you know? Like I said, the people I hang out with aren’t bad, but Tom is genuine. He doesn’t hide, and he is who he is, even if people talk about him." Her eyes returned to your face, and you finally noticed the tears forming. "And he talked about you. He told me how much you support him and what you do together, how you talk about everything and really listen to each other."

"I never had the chance to get to know you before, and my fear was that you would treat me poorly because of who I am, even knowing you wouldn't do that." She took a deep breath to regain her composure. "And when you showed up at the party and I got to talk to you, I understood Tom. I understood why he keeps you around. And today you took me to lunch at a new place, brought me to your home, and helped me with an assignment that isn't even part of your course. And we barely know each other."

"Amber, I did that because I like you too. It’s all good!"

She sniffled and released your hand, bringing them to her face to dry her tears.

"That was intense, and now I’m embarrassed." She started to get up, and you followed her. "I need to go."

"Amber, wait. You don’t have to leave."

"Y/N, I need to." She quickly packed up all the materials she used back into the bag she was carrying. "That was more than I expected."

Knowing you wouldn't be able to change her mind, you just watched as she gathered her things.

"Amber, wait." You tried one last time as she approached the door to leave. She paused but didn’t look back. "Do you want to go shopping on Friday?"

Her shoulders trembled slightly, and she turned to you with a shy smile on her face.

"I would love to."

Tom was sitting at his desk in his room while you were lying on his soft comforter on the bed.

"Were you two out to lunch together?" he asked.

"Yeah, she asked if she could join me, and I didn’t say no. It was actually pretty nice."

"Until she freaked out in the middle of your living room."

"It wasn’t a freak-out." You sat up on the bed defensively, staring at him. "She vented. I didn’t understand much, but the emotional weight of her words… it was a lot."

"Amber is pretty straightforward."

"I don’t think so. She still has a lot bottled up inside her, and I don’t think she’s going to share it anytime soon."

"Y/N, she’s not a patient. Don’t overanalyze."

"I know that," you replied. "She said you two are friends. Has she talked to you about her parents?"

He raised both hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Let’s stop right there. That’s not our business."

"Ah, okay, sorry." You flopped back onto the bed, arms spread wide. "But did you know she said you talk a lot about me?"

"Did she?" He stood up from his chair. "What did she say?"

"Nothing too specific. But I think it’s problematic because you’ve created a fantasy of me for her."

"Me?"

"Yes! I’m not that special, and the way she talked… you really need to watch your words or it’s going to seem like I’m the center of your universe."

"Ha! You would like that, wouldn't you?" He gets up from the chair and sits on the edge of the bed.

"That's your life wish, Holland. Not mine," you joked back.

"So you think you’re that special, huh?" he says.

"I know I am. If I weren’t, I wouldn’t be right here now, and you wouldn’t be talking about me to other friends."

"You hurt my feelings talking like that. I don't have such a cold heart." he says, placing his hands over his chest.

"Aww, poor thing. Tommy gets his feelings hurt when he hears the truth." You reply, pouting and sitting again to face him properly.

"Why are you so sassy, huh?" He says, laughing and leaning closer.

"Life taught me to be this way."

"Stop that," he says, chuckling. "A few hours with Amber and you’re already just like her."

"We're friends. We have a date together on Friday!"

"I don’t know what to think, but I’m glad."

"Yeah, it's going to be fun," you smile.

"So, I've been thinking… actually, I heard some comments today about last Saturday."

"Yeah, I heard about it too. Apparently, you can still be the talk of the campus at any occasion."

"Oh, Y/N, you know not everyone cares about that. The ones who talk the most are the ones close to you or who want to be."

"I know, I was one of those people, remember? You can be sure I didn’t care at all about what you did or didn’t do until we had to work together."

"Yeah, if it weren't for social psychology, we might never have even exchanged a hello." That wasn’t exactly true. "Anyway, it turns out everyone thinks it was just that. Just a fling."

"Hm, what do you suggest?"

Tom smirked and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

"Time to make it Instagram official."

"How do you want me?" you asked, and he stared at you, a new smirk appearing. "Not like that, you perv! You know what I meant."

He laughed and got up, offering his hand to help you up from the bed.

"I'll lead you," he says.

You both walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window in his room, the sunset bathing the space in natural light. Tom positioned you in front of him and wrapped one arm around your shoulders.

"Okay, now turn your face to the left. Pretend you’re distracted." You did as he asked.

Tom's free hand held the phone in front of both of you.

"Got it. I think we have the picture for the official announcement," he said a moment later, pointing the phone to catch your attention.

In the photo, Tom's face was resting on your head, his arm wrapped around you while you pretended to look at something in the distance.

"Tom, do you think this is good?"

"What? What do you mean?"

"This looks so forced."

"What a lie. I've never taken a more perfect couple photo." You put your hands on your head when you heard him say that.

"Thomas… you've never taken a couple's photo in your life!"

Tom might have posed with countless girls at parties and other events, but none of them carried any deeper feeling.

"Well, it's what we have." He clicked a bit more on the phone screen. "Done, I even tagged you. Are you going to repost?" He said just as you heard the sound of a notification coming from your phone on his bed.

"We should have taken another one."

"Y/N, then it will look forced. It needs to be natural."

"Ha, and you think this is natural?"

"Stop complaining."

You huffed and returned to his bed, grabbing your phone and opening the app.

"Hey, it's okay if you don't want to repost it because you didn't like it…" he says lightly.

"That's not it, Tommy." You meet his gaze, lowering your phone. "It's just that all my acquaintances are going to see it. And it will be real. My family, friends from home. I know that was the plan and what we agreed on, but I just don’t know…"

Tom moved closer to you and cupped your face in his hands.

"Hey, any time you want to stop, that's fine! I’ve already told you I’m not going to force you into anything. Just say the word, and it's over."

You let out a breath and rested your head against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you in a comforting embrace.

"You too, Tommy. At any moment." You said, your voice muffled by his shirt pressing against your face.

A few seconds later, you slipped out of his arms and reposted the photo, blocking and silencing your phone immediately afterward.

"See? That wasn’t so hard. We’ll deal with the consequences later." He laughed softly. "Now let’s go, we need to get there early if we want to leave early."

Even though it was a Monday, Tom had managed to convince you to go out with some of his friends to celebrate the start of the new game season. The only condition you had set was not staying out too late. They had decided to meet up at a bowling alley for the night.

When you both arrived, Harrison and his date for the night Jessie along with Tyler, and his girlfriend Mabel were already there, having reserved a lane for the game.

Harrison started the game, followed by Tyler and Mabel, who asked her boyfriend for help with the only move needed in bowling. Next up was Jessie, who made the same request to Harrison—good first-date strategy.

"Ok, smartiepants, your turn," Tom said turning to you, pointing to the lane.

You got up from the couch in your section and walked over to the platform to choose the ball you'd use.

"Tommy, you're not being very smart right now," Tyler said, pointing in your direction.

"What do you mean?"

"Be a gentleman; your girlfriend is about to bowl. Don't you think you should help her?"

Tom laughed loudly. "My girl? Oh, she doesn't need help. She knows what to do."

And as if you sensed his words even without hearing them, you knocked down all 10 pins in one go, making him shout in celebration.

"That's what I'm talking about!"

The night continued, and Harrison emerged as the winner of the game, receiving victory kisses from Jessie. Before heading out, everyone decided to grab a quick snack at the same bowling alley.

After a while of laughter, you said goodbye to the group and everyone went their separate ways.

"I have to admit, these people aren't so bad." You say as you buckle your seatbelt and Tom starts the car.

"Yeah, Tyler and Harrison are my closest friends, which is why I wanted you to come tonight. I know some of the guys on the team can be jerks, but a few of them are worth it."

"The girls were really nice too, even with their performance of not knowing how to play and getting all cozy with the guys," you say, laughing.

"I don't know about Jessie, but Mabel has been with Tyler for a while, so it's likely you'll see her again," he replied.

"Hm, I wish Amber had come," you said, looking down at your hands in your lap.

"Haz said she was busy, that's why she couldn't make it."

"I see…"

"Hey." Tom called your attention, placing his hand over yours. "Don't think too much about it; that's Amber for you. She has a strong personality and is very intense. And she gets scared by things she can't control."

A few minutes later, Tom parked in front of your apartment.

"Have you checked your phone?" he asked, and you shook your head in response.

"It's been on silent since we left your place."

"Y/N, I'm here for you. You know that."

"I really appreciate you, Tom. I know you have your reasons for being part of this craziness we've gotten into, but seriously, thank you."

"Anytime, smartiepants." You smiled at him.

"I'm going now."

Before you could open the car door, Tom held your hand. "Wait, Y/N."

"What?" You looked at him.

"I need to ask you… about the party, what happened at the party." he said. "I don't… what was that?"

"Tom, I'm not understanding."

"We… we kissed."

"Oh, about that." You looked away. "I know you didn't expect it, but… when I came back from the bathroom with Amber, everyone was saying you had gone somewhere with Taylor, and when I went to look for you, I bumped into her, and she started saying all sorts of things, and I wasn't exactly in my most sober state either."

He didn’t respond and let go of your hand.

"I know we hadn’t agreed on anything, but it felt like the right thing to do at the moment. I needed to prove that we were together there."

Tom continued in silence, staring at the road ahead.

"I'm sorry. We talked briefly about this, and I thought…"

"So it was an act?" he asked. "Just to prove we were together?"

"Well, yes. It’s not what we usually do when we’re together," you replied uncertainly. "But Tom, if that bothered you, let’s set some boundaries. It's funny because you joked about it yourself and…"

"No, it's fine. You don’t need to. Just… I'll see you tomorrow, ok?" he said.

"Alright, drive safe," you said before getting out of the car and watching him drive away.

As you lay down and finally allowed yourself to check your phone, you felt a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

Notifications began to pop up on your phone, and you quickly realized that the repost of the photo with Tom had generated a lot of attention. Messages from friends and acquaintances started flooding your feed, and you couldn’t help but smile at the positive reactions.

Your sister replied with a simple "WTF?"

You couldn’t avoid feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. Your relationship with Tom was becoming more real every day, and it brought a whirlwind of emotions.

Among the messages, one notification caught your attention: a direct message from Amber. “I saw the photo! I’m so happy for you. Let’s talk soon?”

You smiled as you read the message and felt relieved. But one notification, in particular, caught your attention even more.

Sean: Seems like I wasn’t wrong after all.

Seeing that message from Sean made your heart skip a beat. You hadn’t expected him to reach out, especially not like this.

TAGLIST: @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @un06 @lnmp89 @hoodharlow @let-me-luve-you @erule @smoofine @smile2345 @itsdoni @helen-on-earth @kagtobis @appleypi @jennifersworldsblog @marajillana @hufflepuff-n-fluff @aol19 @milasexutoire @watarmelon212 @miniaturetreecollectorfan-blog @twsssmlmaa @drquinnzel0217qqqqqqqqqqq @purplerose291 @princessria127 @jackiehollanderr

#tom holland angst #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland #tom holland au #tom holland imagines #tom holland smut

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waywardstation · 3 months ago

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One last store update! After this I will begin sending emails to a subscriber list.

You can input your email of choice for my shop newsletter into this google form here.

A quick summary of some things:

I was unable to finish orders by printing their shipping labels by today, despite what I said last week, because of health issues that had to be addressed instead.

More of my product order was messed up, had enough items to fulfill every order but I’ve been left with ZERO extra stock on a couple items to put into my shop after.

I got enough interest in the Halloween keychains and stickers so I will be making them.

Full explanations below ^^

I have now packed every single order and reviewed all of their contents. However I was unable to send them out today as at some point last week I became very unwell. I’ve been going downhill for a while but it has never gotten to this degree this fast before. I still don’t really know what caused it and so I had been unable to pack over the weekend and couldn’t get all the shipping labels printed for them today.

I will be printing these labels out and taking chunks of the orders to the post office over the next few days.

But the more I’d packed the more I’d realized more of my product order had been messed up. I had ordered extras of everything and yet some of the products that I ordered just BARELY fulfilled every order — I had to use some of the initial samples to fulfill every order but rest assured they are the exact same as the products in size and quality. I have exactly ZERO of some products left over for shop stock when I’d ordered 10-15 extra of every item (as well as TOO MANY of some less popular products that didn’t need all these extras) which sadly means a few items will not be in stock when I open the store back up. I may put discounts on the unwanted extras I received because of this.

While I would expect by default to receive the products in the quantity that I ordered, I also understand that I ordered hundreds of products all in one order, and that is only one order that is being fulfilled out of the many other orders they get daily. I myself did not count out every single product to check because of the sheer amount of everything that was ordered — I had ordered over 500 keychains alone to fulfill the preorders and the entire order has taken up a full room when all spread out. But I still did not count beforehand and would only find out once I’d run out of a certain product, so I accept this is partly my responsibility too. This should not happen again as I never expect to make an order this big again, I had only done this for shop startup, and I will be making another order to restock these products. But it’s still sad it happened.

I apologize for this and I appreciate all of your patience once again. I am explaining all of this as I believe you are owed information about what is going on seeing as you’ve put money into this, and I myself said they would all be sent out by Monday. I just want to be transparent ^^

And one last thing — many of you wanted Halloween merchandise, so I will be moving forward with that! (I’ve decided they will not be glow in the dark though, as I’d have to make every vibrant color instead transparent for the glow to come through, and I believe the designs would suffer too much without these colors)

I have ordered from this manufacturer multiple times before over the years and they’ve always gotten it right with more reasonably-sized orders, so I am confident these will not have the same problems as this preorders period has.

Thank you again very much for your support and understanding up to this point!! <3

#I don’t know how long I’m still going to feel like this #basically it’s heart issues #at first I had thought I’d reacted really bad to caffeine in headache medication that I’d taken #because I cannot have caffeine #but it had never done that to me before and it’s been lasting for longer than caffeine would even be in my system #and maybe it still was the caffeine I don’t know #but for now #I do not know how long things will be like this #I can’t carry anything heavy or walk or stand for long periods of time right now #so I will have to take the orders in chunks over the course of about three days with some help probably #I promise I’m not pushing myself though I take breaks the moment I feel like I should #I’ve been getting help and this is a health issue I’ve already been trying to address and my job thankfully gave me some relief #so I’ve just been resting for a few days and thankfully have a head start on managing this #I do apologize if any of this has been disjointed or disconnected concentrating does not come easy right now #thank you all for your patience thus far it means so much to me

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kaylinalexanderbooks · 9 months ago

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Find the word tag

I'm going through them I'm going through them

Anyway thanks @aziz-reads!

My words: start, taste, large, change

Your words: talk, current, stick, jealous

Tagging @thepeculiarbird @blind-the-winds @little-peril-stories @buffythevampirelover @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @ohnomybreadsticks @dyrewrites @writeouswriter @writeintrees @verba-writing

Keep reading for:

Gwen runs (admittedly justifiably) away from Jedi and Carmen

Raissa makes an announcement :)

A short little scene of Robbie being a little shit

Arm wrestling discussion

Start - from The Secret Portal Part One (Gwen POV)

Thinking about them filled a deep, righteous fury as Dr. Asghar reached for the door. She let go of my left arm, so I jabbed my elbow into her gut. She yelped and I broke free. The time I spent running paid off when I shot down the hall, the balls of my feet carrying me across the gray tiled floor. I silently thanked the gym coaches forcing us to run thirteen laps. I heard Dr. Asghar and Dr. Moon run after me, but I didn’t stop. I had a good head start and was faster. I reached the vase I’d seen and gave a mental apology for knocking it over. Dr. Asghar swore loudly as I skidded around the corner and ran down that hall until I realized I reached a dead end. I whipped around but saw Dr. Asghar and Dr. Moon at the start of the hallway. I froze. “Where’d she go?” Dr. Asghar asked, panting. “I don’t know,” Dr. Moon said. He looked around. “She had to have turned here. Her powers must have activated.” I stood there in confusion. Looked behind me, looked back at them. What powers? How could they not see me? I decided not to think too much about it and be thankful that they couldn’t while trying to make my heavy breathing quiet down. “Let’s go back to the lab,” said Dr. Moon after a moment, turning around. “She could be demonstrating several abilities. I can name four off the top of my head.” He smiled. “Actually, seven! I’m curious to see which one it is.” Dr. Asghar huffed, but followed her colleague back around the corner. “Sorry about the vase,” I heard Dr. Moon say. “Who cares? It was my uncle’s. Good riddance!” I heard a sound that implied Dr. Asghar kicked a shard of the vase that bounced off the wall. “Eight!” I heard Dr. Moon exclaim. I could almost hear Dr. Asghar roll her eyes.

Taste - from The Secret Portal Part Two (Jedi POV)

“Hello, Alium,” the girl said. “What you are currently seeing is being broadcasted across every holoscreen in the world. No, there is no way to turn to another channel. My name is Raissa Kamanzi, and I am an Inutilia.” Murmurs began to ripple throughout the room. I found myself sitting up straighter, listening to every word this girl had to say. Rin and Jeong-Suk had turned in their seats to watch the broadcast. “I speak to you to bring a stop to how my people have been treated,” Raissa continued. “First, I want to tell you about myself. I was a certified genius at age three. I got a degree in dimension mechanics when I was twelve years old. I managed to hijack every holoscreen in the world for you to hear my message. There is nothing useless about me. There is nothing useless about any of us. My people are frankly sick of being treated as such. We are tired of the segregation, the attacks, and bigotry targetting us. You have no idea how much pain and suffering you have caused.” “Turn this damn thing off!” a Quinque man shouted as he stood from his seat. “Go back to Druz’ya Sem’i!” “So we have banded together,” Raissa continued. “We have decided to give you a taste of your own medicine.” “Did you hear me?!” “Sir!” an employee shouted. “We cannot change the channel!” “Turn off the holoscreen!” “I appear before you today to announce the existence of our new organization: The Refuga Alliance.” “No!” a Tribus woman shouted. “She has every right to speak!” “We renegades have risen up to take back what we have been denied our whole lives: power.” “I won’t stand here while some nullock spats propaganda!” “Together, we are working on ways to combat your powers, combat the prejudice, and evolve into better versions of yourselves.” “Do you hear her?” the man continued. “She’s threatening our very way of life!” “You will no longer be special. You will finally be able to feel what it’s like to be Inutil. Useless. You have relied on your natural powers for too long. Now you will finally be able to taste the consequences.”

I swear I've had to find "taste" a million times lol

Large - from The Secret Portal Part One (Robbie POV)

We turned a corner and went to a large door near the end of the hall. Dr. Asghar pressed her hand to the doorframe and the door slid open. We were now inside a room full of computers. Dr. Asghar walked behind one, leaving me in the center and Akash off to the side, and Dr. Moon stood in the corner watching her. “State your name,” Dr. Asghar said, putting what I assumed was hand sanitizer in her palm. “As in first name?” I asked. “Or first and last? Or full name? Or possible nicknames? Or—” “Enough!” Dr. Asghar said through gritted teeth. “Full name.” “Robert Benjamin Stafford.” “Age?” Dr. Asghar asked, not even touching the monitor. “I literally just said that I was thirteen.” “Date of birth?” “C’mon, man, that’s pers—” “Didn’t you literally just say that you just turned thirteen?” Dr. Asghar looked at me through her glasses. “Date. Of. Birth?” I sighed. I considered giving out a fake one, like yesterday, but decided against it. “May 2nd, 2010.”

Change - from The Secret Portal Part One (Akash POV)

Sammy’s cheeks glowed, her smile bright. “I got in! I got in!” “The Elite Crew?” I asked, referring to her studio’s advanced dancing team. Sammy bounced on her toes. “Yes! Yes, I did!” “Holy shit, that’s awesome!” said Robbie. “Congrats, Sammy.” “Hell yeah, it’s awesome!” said Liam, appearing in the doorway beside her. “I won the arm wrestling match because her phone went off with the news.” “Doesn’t count,” said Sam. “You’re catching up on Diamond Mode, anyway.” “Yeah, but now I’m catching up by one point less.” “It’s only fair I get a point. Now you can beat me in Diamond Mode, I don’t stand a chance in any other mode, so I have to take any win I can get. Besides, we have the rest of our lives for you to obliterate me in Diamond Mode.” “But what if you get better at Diamond Mode?” “Squirt, diamond can’t get harder than it already is.” “What if you find something harder than diamond?” “That’s impossible.” “We’re in an alternate dimension, Liam.” “Touché. But Alium doesn’t have anything harder than diamond, either.” “There’s a whole multiverse out there, though,” said George, taking a bite out of whatever granola bar he was eating. “Besides, an extremely powerful shapeshifter could theoretically shift their skin into a substance harder than diamond. However, that is unheard of. Also, if Sam gets so good at Diamond Mode Arm Wrestling, I suggest you change to weight-lifting and see if she can throw you when you’re dense or otherwise heavy elements.” Liam and Sam looked at each other. “That could work, Squirt. Excellent idea, George.” George lit up, but he hadn’t swallowed the granola, so his cheeks were puffed out. Like a chipmunk or something

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lovingdabeessss · 4 months ago

Note

So, in response to this:

@tumblingxelian that’s really interesting!! I’d love to hear your thoughts on the different times grim have shown up through the historical perspective and lens!! Specifically on the appearance within the collapsed mine in atlas, an appearance I’ve always found really interesting because it’s sooo remote of a location. My personal theory based on this and others and just general love of the thought is that when it comes to extreme long drawn out emotions or huge mass tragedies, grim will be compelled to stay there for an extended amount of time depending on the extent of the tragedy even if there’s no more negative emotions being produced afterwards or just no people entirely Unless possibly a big enough tragedy occurs somewhere close by drawing it more then where they are

Thank you, I am glad you found my take there interesting!

So, broadly speaking we know that Grimm are drawn to negative emotions. When Mercury's leg got shot, we see Grimm becoming alert all over. We also can argue that Blake on the ship to Kuo Kuana was something of a Grimm lure as the Sea Feilong was drifting beneath it and seemed to become more agitated as she did. Plus as V2 established, it was expected that the White Fang would radiate negative emotions and steadily lure more Grimm towards their general area at the very least.

There's other examples but what I take from this is that while Grimm are drawn to all 'negative' emotions to one degree or another, they seem more... Just drawn to or otherwise aware of stuff like sadness, or subtle dread.

While it seems to be stuff like anger and rage that really gets them active. Not that a Grimm won't attack a sad person, just that they are less likely to be drawn in large numbers to sadness or act as aggressively on it.

Overall, I think the more 'hysterical' or extreme and intense the emotion is, which usually coincides with panic or rage than anything else.

Heck, we also saw Tyrian fall to despair near a Grimm and while it did eventually go for him, it seemed to take a bit to work up to it, compared to how quick on the draw they can be when someone is angry.

As a result, stuff like slavery and prisons, despite causing long term suffering can be sustainable, if still not often advisable.

IE, they are much easier to pull off in an area where the prisoners and slaves would be a minority compared to the comparatively happy citizens.

Meaning such things in small towns would be harder likely making banishment, denial of entry or swift executions more common. & it would discourage stuff like group punishments, torture, or like, executions designed to cause fear, as all those will create major emotional spikes. While in contrast, sadness or long simmering frustration while something of a draw, aren't enough of one to completely undercut the systems.

As to your idea, that is fascinating and given the magical nature of Grimm, Remnants souls and the overall setting. I could very easily see emotions... Clinging to a place so to speak. Or otherwise leaving such a big impact on the nearby Grimms psyche that they remain drawn to the location regardless.

Sorry for not having as much to add there ><

YEYAHHAHSHSHHSH AWESOME THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!

Ok ok ok on this these are all awesome points I love this so so much yeah it’s so interesting to think about how they would deal with things like prisons especially

Maybe in places like atlas they’d keep the prisons in atlas due to it being so up in the air which less grim are naturally to keep in away from people? Maybe that’s why the mine is so far from people?

Maybe other places keep them farther from general society? Maybe underground? I wonder what affects the grims ability to be drawn to negative emotions?

Your so so right about the banishment thing that’s so true I wonder if any out of kingdom societies were formed based on that? (And promptly destroyed they don’t often last long)

I think that when it comes to emotion panic and desperation are the biggest draws of grim because of how consuming and consistent of an emotion it is but your SO right about anger that and hate are a big bright flag to grim for sure when it comes to sadness I think the biggest threat is meltdowns just total collapse crying sobbing meltdowns bring grim FAST which are a big common thing in huge tragedies or traumatic events/loses

And YEAH I think that there’s definitely something kinda magical to emotions in the Rwby world sense the grim are drawn to it it must have something to it that’s kinda tangible so maybe the thought it could linger places isn’t to far off!!! Right!?? Maybe? Idk I’m just having my fun little theories

Thank you so so so much for this response I love it I love a analysis on top of my analysis thank youuu

#rwby #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #ruby rose #weiss schnee

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kagedbird · 8 months ago

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Cicero Loves You, Listener!

TESSDE AU - Dark Brotherhood route

~ [First] ~ [Next] ~ [Prev] ~

This was going to be… rough. To adjust to.

Something inside my stomach wanted to puke at the thought of being in a den of murderers, but I felt like my hands weren’t clean either. I couldn’t remember if I was like them or not, so I wasn’t sure I had any right to judge.

Not only that, but the Night Mother chose me. That clearly had to account for something, regarding my life. Right?

Either way, I was definitely treated like an outsider by the rest of the ‘family’ despite my supposed position. Only two people outside of Cicero really cared that I was Listener and addressed me as such— that being Babette, the vampire, and Festus Krex, the older man. Both were old enough to remember and adhere to the ‘old ways’ of the religious creed, but not everyone was so quick to fall back to the ancient ways.

Astrid especially. I could feel her cold, distrusting glare everywhere from the moment I stepped out of Mother’s sanctuary. She was clearly waiting for me to make a misstep, of any kind, so she had an excuse to take me out. Cicero warned me plenty enough to not linger near ‘the harlot’ for long.

It was mean, but hearing Cicero call her a harlot definitely made me snort. I had to ‘suffer’ through him trying to get me to do it repeatedly during meal time, much to the despair of my aching sides.

At the moment, I was seated next to Gabrielle as she stitched the last threads into the cloth of my new uniform. I was to match the others in their red and black colour scheme. Something inside felt fond at the colour duality— maybe I’d worn this before? Did I used to belong to another sanctuary?

Those three men in my dreams certainly didn’t wear the colours or anything regarding the family’s design…

I’d dreamt of them repeatedly since the first time. Flickers in time that didn’t really make sense, feelings and emotions I couldn’t really grasp. I think past me was infatuated with them, to some degree. Or she just held a lot of love for them in her heart.

Would they like this new me? Did they still exist?

Perhaps I could ask Night Mother where they were…

“You’re very quiet.” Gabrielle said suddenly, startling me from my thoughts. Curiously, I looked up to her in question, and she smiled. “Sorry. I suppose I was expecting another one like Cicero— er, the Keeper. Loud.”

“I can be.” I said, slowly shrugging. “But I feel like I’ll be threatened with another knife if I am.”

Gabriella laughs, a tinkling sort of sound leaking from her lips. “I think you might be right. I do apologize for it. I for one am glad we have another woman. It’s nice to have some company.”

I smile, feeling assured by her comment. It didn’t feel like she had any ulterior motives to tack on either. Just genuine want for camaraderie.

“Have you been recovering well, under the Keeper’s care?” She asked curiously, eyes flicking back down to her work.

“Yes. Cicero is very… attentive.” I settled on, glancing at where he was in the sanctuary. He was tending to Mother right now, oiling her preserved body.

I didn’t envy the task, I’ll be honest. Not to be disrespectful in any way. But it was… mildly unsettling, as was everything in regards to this guild.

“Attentive is a word for it.” Gabriella huffed quietly. “Just say the word if you need a hand, okay? I don’t mind at all.”

“Thank you. I might take you up on that.” I nodded. “I’ve been feeling this sharp pain in my thigh for a while, and I worry something isn’t healing right.”

“Oh! I’ll see to it after this.” Gabriella said, nodding firmly.

“Thank you.” I murmured, settling my back against the rough chair. It was nice to have a companion other than Cicero. You could only talk about the same five things so many times before it became tiring.

Gabriella’s smile widened as she swiftly stitched the pants in her lap. “Cicero said you were a polite one. I can only wonder how long it’ll last here.”

“Pardon?” I asked, confused. “...Does no one thank anyone here?”

“Well, of course we thank each other,” Gabriella admits, looking a bit sheepish. “But… no offense to you or your position, Listener, but you are… new.”

Ah.

“I’m sorry you all get third degree.” I offer simply, dipping my head respectfully. “While I’m still… lightly disquieted about the tasks that are given, I’m sure they aren’t given without thought. Otherwise, we’d just be killing anyone and everyone, wouldn’t we?”

“As much as Sithis might enjoy having so many souls brought to him in the Void, if everyone were to die, no one would be alive to kill.” Gabriella remarked dryly. “So, yes, you’re right on that one.”

“And…” I pause, looking around to make sure no one would hear, sheepishly glancing back at the elven woman. “...Everyone does their best to remain respectful of the dead, right?”

“Well… I cannot attest to everyone,” Gabriella admits, but gives a small shrug. “I certainly try to. Death is but the time to sleep forever, in the Void, after all. I assure that everyone has a good rest when it’s their time.”

“That’s all I can hope for.” I murmured, squeezing my shorts tightly. “Death isn’t something that should be taken lightly. Murder isn’t to be done lightly. I… I don’t remember what I’ve done, but I don’t feel clean. But I do know I had to have had my reasons. Regardless of the hefty price that was paid.”

Gabriella turns to me and stares deeply into my eyes. I do my best to maintain the eye contact, letting her search for whatever she wished.

“...How strange for the Night Mother to choose someone so… estranged to killing.” She eventually murmured, eyes tight. “One would think she would settle on a serial murderer. Or someone with the taste for blood.”

“Maybe she looks for restraint.” I offer. “You said it yourself, with everyone dead, there’s no one alive to kill.”

She hummed, keeping her stare for a few moments longer, before turning to the clothes on her lap once more. With a flourish, she tightens the thread and cuts the remaining string off, smoothing the cloth down.

“It’s done. Shall we adjourn to your room to see about your leg?”

“Yes, please. Thank you.”

She chuckled again, standing tall and helping me stand with a smile across her lips. “Ever so polite, Listener.”

“As if you’ve been nothing but kind yourself.” I countered with a grin, enjoying her laughter that followed.

“I wonder.”

I followed after Gabriella, slow as I was with a limp in my gait, and entered into the sanctuary with a wave to Cicero.

“Hello Keeper.” Gabriella greeted cooly.

“Hello, hello! And hello to you, sweet Listener!” Cicero said, smiling wide. “Come to pay respects to the Night Mother?”

“Maybe after Gabriella checks my leg,” I offered, giving him a weaker smile in return. “It’s been burning a lot lately, and I’ve been worried—”

Cicero gasped, looking down right appalled. “And you have not mentioned this to Cicero? Your dutiful, helpful, dearest Cicero?!”

I shrunk slightly, feeling properly admonished, and forced myself not to scuff my foot. “I… feel more at ease with a woman checking, Cicero. No offense to you or your capabilities at all. I just…”

Cicero stared heavily before letting out a dramatic sigh and turned back to the Night Mother. “Woe is me, dearest Mother! If only I had been born a woman, so as to take proper care of our dearest Listener! Woe, I say!”

I smiled wider, feeling a little more at ease at his goofy speech. “It’s just my leg, Cicero. You’ve helped with literally everything else, and I’m very grateful. I don’t want to keep having to lean on your kindness though.”

“So the Listener keeps saying.” Cicero sighed again, wiping his hands on a dry rag. “Perhaps the Listener should be the Keeper instead with how often she keeps poor Cicero.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “I would be a poor Keeper indeed. That job is yours, hon. You do a great job of it, and I know Mother is grateful for your efforts.”

“She is?!” Cicero squawked, turning to me sharply. “Has she said? Has she? Oh please, dearest Listener! Tell poor Cicero what she has said!”

“Um…” I blink in surprise, but feel myself soften at his urgency. He’s been without her voice and as her Keeper for so long. Like any child, he’d long to hear her praise…

“My dearest Keeper… though he longs to hear my voice, it does not belong to him. He is the Keeper after all.” Mother’s voice rang in my mind, making me snap to her coffin. The subtle red… “His loyalty, above all, brings his Dread Lord father and I the greatest of joy. As all of our children do.”

I smile, feeling my heart squeeze a bit. Reassured by this… matronly comfort that settled in my chest. It soothed an ancient ache I couldn’t recall. I’m not sure what, but it was definitely nice to hear the subtle compliment to myself.

“...She says you’re a wonderful, loyal Keeper. And that she and Father are proud of you.” I said softly, finally turning my eyes to see Cicero blinking back tears with a fervent relieving grief. A mixture of emotions swirling on his face as his hands clenched tightly by his sides, scrunching up the rag in his right hand.

I felt the urge to go to him. I wasn’t sure if it was Mother’s prodding, or a sense of my old self ushering me, but I strode forward and brought him into a tight hug, rubbing his back softly.

“Silence has ended, my Brother…”

“Welcome home.”

#skyrim #tesblr #tes oc #Cicero skyrim #Gabriella skyrim #Night Mother #Allora #Dragonborn oc #TESSDE AU #Dark Brotherhood

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clumsiestgiantess · 8 months ago

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Chapter 22 of The Other-world Universe; it’s villain time, baby! >:)

all chapters listed here

[Round two: Knockout]

A blaring horn woke me with an awful cacophony of noise. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been asleep, but I was sure that there wasn’t an alarm clock for me in the other-world. “Ahh! What’s going on!?” I yelped, sitting up in an instant with my hands over my ears. “Finally, she’s awake,” an exasperated voice grumbled nearby. Looking to my left, I found a truck parked right beside where my head lay a moment ago. No wonder its horn had been so loud.

"Wh- Why are you here?" I asked Mr. Stoll as he paced a bit further away from me, "I thought you said I could have some time off." "Well, that was before I knew about this," he grumbled, messing with something in the truck. "We received a radio broadcast this morning. At first we thought it was more refugees, and in a way I guess it is, but.. well.. If I could just get this thing to-" I saw another figure inside the truck do something to the machine Marcus was messing with, and soon a harsh voice played out over a speaker system inside.

This is Nicholaus Albane, head overseer of the Inter-reality Multiuniversal Research Division. We know a human of our own size is with you. She has displayed extraordinary power. Unfortunately, it has been used against my scientists and has hindered my progress towards our goal. I cannot allow that to happen again.

There was a brief pause as static rippled over the radio. Anxiety built in my stomach, making me nauseous. If she is not present at our camp, or you fail to bring her to us at 34.5 degrees latitude and 28.4 degrees longitude… Terrified cries suddenly burst through the speakers — too faint to be anything but other-worldian. Everyone in this town will die. Then it will be your turn.

My message to the unnaturally-powered human: Do not resist. You can not overpower the twenty or so staff present here. Your tricks are amusing, but this isn't a game; no one's laughing. There are lives at stake. Come within the hour and the people here will be spared. If you don't show up, I can personally guarantee that after every one of those little creatures dies, you’ll be next. There was a sudden click, then the radio cut to static.

My stomach churned awfully as I realized what the scientist was saying. They were holding an entire town hostage just to capture me. If I came, they would undoubtedly drag me through a portal and lock me away somewhere, but if I fled, thousands would suffer the consequences. Before either of the other-world people could say anything, I promptly rushed into the woods behind me and threw up. There was too much going on, and way too suddenly; I was terrified. Everyone’s lives depended on me. But you already knew that. Their lives already have depended on you.

I desperately didn’t want to turn myself in. I.. can just.. leave. All I had to do was concentrate on a thought and I’d be home — far far away from anything here. The people from the portal wouldn’t be able to find me to punish me for not coming. But what would happen if I really left? I'd be leaving so many people to die if I did. I couldn’t do that. What kind of awful coward of a person would that make me? Not the kind I’m willing to be.

Eventually, I returned to the field where Mr. Stoll stood, slightly startled. The other person cautiously stepped out of the truck and looked up at me pityingly. It took me a moment to recognize it was Ivan. “We have no choice,” Mr. Stoll began, “We have to send you to their camp. Not to comply with their orders, of course. You’ll go there to fight them off with your gun, and whatever you need him for,” he said, nodding towards Ivan.

That’s right, with Ivan here I’ll have intangibility. I can escape with that. I took a shaky breath of air to calm myself and think straight. I have to at least try to help them. I don’t want anyone to die on my behalf. But if worst comes to worst, being intangible can help me avoid getting hurt or captured. “Alright,” I agreed solemnly, my voice shaking slightly. “I’ll go.”

Mr. Stoll immediately shoved a paper of sorts at Ivan and said something along the lines of ‘don’t screw this up’ to him. “This map has the camp’s location and the route there plotted on it already. The kid will take you.” “Wait, we’re leaving now?” I asked, confused. “I haven’t gotten ready. Erica isn’t here, and-” “They said come within the hour. Forget about her and get going,” Mr. Stoll growled the same time Ivan said “We don’t have time; we have to leave now.” I guess they were both right; I had to get there before it was too late, but I couldn’t help feeling a twinge of longing. I wanted Erica there. Her presence would be one small comfort in the midst of all the chaos, but there was no time.

Carefully, I let Ivan settle onto my hands before lifting him up to give me directions. I strode with as quick a pace as I dared with my small companion. Every once and a while he would give me new instructions. Otherwise, the trip was deathly silent. Fear and anxiety kept a capsule of quietness in the air at all times, only further increasing the tension.

My heart broke a little as I left sight of the Cavern Town. My magnetic sixth sense was pulling me back the direction I'd come. It was a somber trip, just me and Ivan wandering towards the faint smell of machinery and upturned earth that grew stronger with each step. The moment the scientist's camp appeared on the horizon, I hid nervously with my invisibility. If there had once been a town there, it was impossible to tell. The entire area had been cleared to stake the base of the scientist's tents.

What will they do to me if I’m taken? If this is how they treat defenseless strangers who aren’t even taller than their hands, I don’t want to know what might happen to me — the person who can possibly stop them from doing it. "Hey," Ivan said softly, looking up at the empty space where I'd been a moment prior. "I'm really sorry about all this. I don't think it's right for these people or mine to put this much pressure on you. The only reason I'm here is, well.. Ok, Mr. Stoll forced me to come to the field, but I came with you because I knew you would want your intangibility. Unfortunately for me, that means I need to tag along." Though I couldn't hear it, I felt him chuckle lightly, "In all honesty, I wanted you to have at least one reliable getaway plan, because I knew you'd be a lot more scared without one."

Despite our dire situation, I managed a small smile. Ivan actually cared about me; he wasn't here simply because Mr. Stoll or the overseeing scientist had frazzled him with the threat of annihilation. His presence guaranteed a small piece of safety for me, even if it was at the expense of his own.

I tried to calm my breathing like Erica had told me the last time I got scared by the scientists. "So, do we have a plan?" Ivan asked hesitantly. "Let me see if I can scout things out a bit closer. I am invisible, after all." “But I’m not...” he replied nervously. I thought for a moment, “I’ll have to stash you in my pocket, but I’ll be sure to let you out before I go intangible, alright?” Ivan nodded slowly, looking like he already regretted his decision to come along.

Slowly, I slid him into my pants pocket and headed silently towards the scientists’ camp. This one was a lot bigger than the previous setup I’d walked into when I first introduced myself. There were three large tents about 20 feet long set up in a row along a small river. On the other side was a huge tarp structure that looked like a circus tent, only it was a dead grayish-white color and seemed much more foreboding. As I slunk into the edges of the campground, I peeked under tent flaps as people walked between them.

The first tent held a plethora of strange machinery. There were towering sets of humming boxes that flashed with blinding light every so often, and racks of glowing tablets lined the back wall. Some things were still fairly recognizable, like a water dispenser and monitors showing the charted region of the land the scientists had discovered. I held back a shocked gasp and waited a moment for someone else to walk through to give me another look at the monitor. The amount of land pictured on the screen was worrying. Is that a map of the land they’ve discovered, or the land they’ve already taken for themselves? I hoped it was the former.

Moving on to the next tent, I found some sort of storage room piled high with crates. It was empty of people. These tents didn't seem all that impressive. If I wanted to find out what was really happening, I'd have to get over to the large tent on the other side of the river. I call it a river only because it would be that size to the other-world inhabitants. To me, it was easily traversable. The scientists hadn't even bothered to build a real bridge across. A few slabs of rubbery plastic material were thrown across it to form a path just wide enough for one person to walk over.

I couldn't go over the makeshift passage, though. If someone were to walk across at the same time, they'd probably bump into me, and there were people crossing it constantly. Workers zipped in and out of all the tents across the field. They weren't even donning the 'hazmat giant' attire, just plain clothing — like they were simply going about a normal job.

Once I made my way over the river with a large step, I crept up to the main tent's entrance. The tent flaps were held wide open, but I couldn't see much of what was happening inside. I waited until the coast was clear, then slipped through the empty opening. My mouth dropped open in shock as I took in the massive space. I thought they'd flattened the town that was here — cast it aside to make room for this camp — but that wasn't the case. The entire town was corralled in the large space beneath the tarp ceiling. It looked like a model train exhibition, or something similarly fake. I mean, who would corral a real city full of people behind a glass pen built for displaying things?

One quick glance around the gigantic room and I spotted eight or nine scientists working on various projects involving the town, which was fenced in on all sides by thick waist-high glass panes. There were divots for people to step into the town, and clearings where scientists could examine the buildings more closely. However, the barriers around the openings were still far too high for any other-worldians to even dream of getting over them.

I stepped over one of these openings and knelt down inside. I'd assumed the other-world people were caged up somewhere, lying in wait as bait for me. However, as I peered at the tiny town, I could see small figures dash by windows, boarding them up in an attempt to keep the giants out. Everyone and everything was left pristinely untouched by the scientists. I doubted it was out of kindness. They wanted a perfect replica to study, and that was all. The moment they finished whatever it was they were doing here, everything would probably either be torn down or taken away through a portal somewhere, never to be seen again. I shuddered at the images that drifted through my mind.

While I knelt there, one of the scientists wheeled a machine over and hooked it to a track that sat on the rim of the glass wall. After a few moments, it flared to life and began making a slow circle around the entire ring. What is that thing? I didn't have a clue what most of the scientists’ machinery did, but as the flat metal piece drifted in my direction, it let off a blaring alarm.

The scientist who'd placed it on the track examined it for a moment, then looked directly at me. I hesitantly stood up, unsure if I'd been spotted. They then called over a few of the others in the room, and soon everyone was staring at the invisible spot where I stood, looking back and forth between me and the machine. My pulse quickened; I could feel it in my chest. Easing my hand into my pocket, I slid Ivan out and hid him behind one of the buildings as soundlessly as I could. I had a feeling that I was going to need my intangibility soon. Suddenly, one of the scientists cried out. "It's her! The anomaly is here! Get the overseer!"

I slid into intangibility and raced out of the enclosure to an empty part of the tent as everyone stampeded out. As much as I didn’t want to get any closer to where the scientists would be, I really didn’t want to stay in the little town. I could all too easily flatten it trying to fight or run from the portal ‘giants’.

Just as quickly as the scientists fled, a new team of 'giants' appeared. This group wore distinctly armored clothing. A few were equipped with futuristic weapons that looked somewhat similar to rifles. There were a lot more people here than I thought. I turned hesitantly to visibility, but clung tightly to intangibility — latching onto Ivan so desperately I would’ve been clinging to him if he were still physically with me. The crowd parted, revealing a tall, thin man with taunt muscles and eyes that were unmistakably golden-yellow.

He sized me up for a moment, then smiled almost welcomingly. "I see you got my message," he observed, gesturing to my arrival. His voice was undoubtedly the same one I'd heard over the radio. The overseer looked between me and the captured town for a moment, then laughed haughtily. "You were trying to save these tiny creatures? How sad.." he mused, "That's just not going to happen. But you'll be joining them on their trip through the portal very soon." I tried to shake off his subtle threats and focus on what I came there to do. I had to put a stop to this.

I made my way in front of the captured town in a slow, decisive march, planting myself between the group of ‘giants’ and the glass walls behind me. “This isn’t right,” I announced to the crowd, “Trust me, I’ve been in denial myself. I didn’t even believe this world was real. But I know better now; these are real people, these are real lives you’re destroying. It has to stop. It’s not right for you to do th-” “That’s where you’re wrong,” the man from the radio cut in, putting a hand up to silence me.

“We have every right to be here. We discovered this world, so why shouldn’t we take it for ourselves?” I huffed, “But there are already people living here!” “Too bad for them,” he replied nonchalantly. “Do your people know the expression ’survival of the fittest’? Surrender or die? Kill or be killed? Don’t your people also claim land from others for themselves?” “Well.. yes,” I stuttered. “That’s all we’re doing,” he explained calmly. “So pick a side. Before we decide for you.” “But that’s not-!” “Pick. A. Side.”

I know who I’m going to stand with. I have to help the people of the other-world. But if this becomes an all-out war over land, am I ready to stand in the middle of it? I inhaled a deep breath to calm my nerves, steadying my position in front of the town. “I’ve already made my decision,” I remarked coldly. The cruel overseer only sneered. He turned swiftly on his heel and stepped to the threshold of the tent. “Capture her,” he ordered, “and slaughter the town.”

The tent became a blur of motion as the group fanned out. Some people headed into the town through the glass openings, while others advanced towards me. I pulled out of intangibility and grabbed my new weapon — immediately firing at the people who tried to attack the captured town. Dodging the oncoming shots, I rushed around the side of the glass barrier. I flinched as bullets of glowing hot metal stuck fast in the glass. Thankfully, the enclosure barrier seemed thick enough to protect me.

As the three people with weapons reloaded, I quickly switched to multi-shot mode and decimated one side of the glass wall to allow everyone from the other-world a potential escape. Turning on my pursuers, I fired off another round and they all scrambled out of the way as explosions tore open the sides of the tent. The other ‘giants’ clearly hadn’t anticipated that I could fight back with a weapon of my own.

Someone gave a signal and those without weapons disappeared out of the torn opening. As I held off the rest of the group, a flood of other-world townspeople made their way out the shattered hole in the barrier. Tearing open the side of the tent with a few explosive shots of my gun, I followed the group from behind, still facing my oncoming attackers.

Once everyone evacuated outside, the ‘giants’ tried to surround us, but I stopped them with a shield smoke bomb. By the time the haze cleared, I’d cast a protective dome over the whole group, trapping them inside. Just as I turned back to the other-world civilians, a keening noise split the air — sounding like a higher-pitched gunshot. I flinched expecting to be hit, but nothing happened. Then, a shocked cry echoed inside the barrier.

Turning back around, I saw one of the people lying on the ground inside. They’d tried to shoot the barrier to escape with a smaller firing weapon, but the bullet, or whatever the weapon shot, had ricocheted off the wall and hit him instead. The others inside began panicking as they realized that there was no way out. Before I could address either of my problems, another one emerged.

The group that had left earlier returned, armed with lightweight shields and more of those strange futuristic guns. I fired off a few quick blasts as the new group charged me, shields raised. My light bullets seemed to have no effect on the shield material. The force of the multi-shot explosion caused my attackers to falter, but that was all.

I put the gun away and went intangible and invisible. Come on Alexis, think! What else can you do to- Oh! Of course, my abilities! Racing forwards, I began taking them out one by one, using invisibility to attack unexpectedly and intangibility to dodge anything they threw at me. I was doing fairly well until one of the ‘giants’ figured out my strategy. He slid past my invisible arm as I aimed my weapon, grabbed it, and threw me to the ground, knocking it out of my hands. I lay there stunned, shock chasing away the powers I'd clung to a moment prior. The force had knocked all the air from my lungs and all the thoughts from my head.

Gasping for breath, I couldn’t stop two of them from hoisting me up to drag me off. When they did, I was able to see the group of other-world people I’d saved, giving me some much-needed encouragement. The Cavern Town truck fleet had arrived. All of the survivors were being loaded onto the vehicles, headed safely back to the protected town in the valley. Despite my dire situation, I’d managed to save them.

My body surged with new life once I realized that my job was complete. I slid into intangibility so I could escape the men's grasp. However, they still held me fast. What’s worse, they’d also seen the other-world civilians escaping. I tried again to switch over to intangibility, but I realized that I had been dragged too far away from Ivan or anyone else I could latch on to; I had no way to get out. Panicked, I jabbed one of them in the ribs as hard as I could. He let out a surprised yelp of pain, and I tried to writhe my way out of the second person’s grasp, but it was no use. The second man stuck his leg out beneath me just as I broke away, and I fell face first into the ground.

Blood dribbled out of my nose, but before I could do so much as wipe it away, I was dragged upwards again. I thrashed in their grasp, but it only earned me a violent kick to the stomach, sending me right back into the dirt. My fight to escape became a desperate animalistic struggle. After a few more escape attempts where I was immediately thrown back to the ground, the butt of one of the men’s rifle-like weapons struck the side of my head — ending my struggles. I was still half conscious, but my vision had gone black for a few minutes as the men continued dragging me off.

Once I could see and think again, I glanced back over my shoulder to see the other-world people. The caravan was speeding away. I'd distracted everyone enough that they no longer cared about them, but I noticed with a pang of terror that I'd almost been dragged all the way to the river crossing. One of the tents on the other side had a portal inside it.

Digging my heels into the ground, I tried desperately to get away. If I could just find anyone to latch onto, I could escape. However, I could barely stand anymore. All I could do was try to slow my captors down, but that was starting to annoy them. Finally, after my fourth or fifth attempt to get free, the man I’d hit turned on me. His hands suddenly wrapped around my neck with a crushing grip on my throat. I gasped fearfully, clawing at his fingers. Faintly, I heard the other person comment: “We’re supposed to bring her back alive, Rowan.” “I’m just putting her to sleep,” he growled in reply as more pressure forced my windpipe closed. Seconds away from passing out, I thought ruefully of my family back home — how they’d never know I died here. The force on my throat vanished, and I fell onto carpeted flooring.

It took me a long while to recover enough to figure out what happened. My thoughts had taken me home. The house was empty. I vaguely remembered my family planning to go somewhere without me after I turned them down.

I sobbed in relief, hesitantly sitting up from my spot on the floor. How am I so stupid? I chided myself internally, I could’ve escaped to my world any time I wanted! Laughing numbly at my mistake, I yelped at the pain it caused me. I couldn't make a single noise without my throat closing up or burning like it had been rubbed raw. Slowly, I got up, nearly stumbling back down to the ground, but I grabbed a nearby chair for support. I made my way to the basement kitchenette and gulped down water. It hurt my throat, but I was desperately thirsty. After my more primal needs had been taken care of, my adrenaline high wore off, and I quickly spiraled into fearful recognition.

The scientists, the townspeople, the hostages — it was all too much. I had barely escaped with my life even with my gun and my powers. The people from the portal world attacked in a group too big for me to handle; I couldn’t defend myself from all of them at once. My first fight was a fluke. I only won because the scientists hadn’t expected me. This time, they called me there. This time, they wanted me to fight them. I should’ve known that they’d figured out a way to subdue me. I’d only escaped because I remembered I could return to my own world with a thought. If it had taken any longer, I would’ve been choked unconscious — stolen away to the scientists’ world. And Erica had to watch everything happen.

I saw her out of the corner of my eye after getting thrown painfully onto my back during the fight. She stood in the middle of the field, closer to me than the group of fleeing other-worldians but still far enough away that none of the soldiers could easily get her — staring in horror as I was thrown down again and again. Weak and barely able to stand, I fell onto the couch feeling like I was dying. Maybe I am dying. I would disappear from the other-world never to be seen again. Everyone would think I abandoned them, but in reality, I was just dead.

For a few hours, I lay on the couch in agony, finally managing to get up for some pain reliever across the room before heading right back to lay down some more. I can’t fight the people from the portal. I have no choice but to leave. I’ll run away and never go back. The other-world residents can’t convince me to return if they can’t get to me. My stomach sunk with guilt, but I reasoned that if I went back to fight, I would either get kidnapped, end up dead, or both.

Wait, I can’t leave Erica! I’d already made the mistake of abandoning her along with the other-world. I’ll have to separate the two… I’ll have to take her with me. Surely she’ll also want to get away from her apocalyptic world. Especially now that the 'giants' are on the path of destruction. I moved to lay on my side, staring at the empty spot where the table once stood. The noises of my family returning home sounded from the floor above me. My dad came down to see me, so I hurriedly covered as much of myself as I could with a blanket, trying to hide all my injuries. I made an excuse that I wasn't feeling well, and he left me alone. I was internally shocked at how sick I actually sounded. My throat was still rugged after the forced attempt to squeeze it shut.

Several hours later, after the pain subsided to something more tolerable, I returned to the Cavern Town. Well, a cutoff of the valley near the Cavern Town. I couldn’t bear to go back there and be expected to keep protecting it.

Sitting there in subtle secrecy, I thought through what I would say to Erica once she undoubtedly found me. My brain kept thinking in circles from I can’t leave to I have to leave over and over again. About a half-hour later, I felt Erica’s presence begin to get closer. Sure enough, a lone truck turned down the cutoff to face me, stopping just short of where I sat. Erica stepped out and looked me over, agony distorting her features. Both of us faced eachother in silence before she finally spoke.

“Alexis, I’m so sorry…” I shook my head, stopping her from saying much else. “Don’t apologize Erica, none of this is your fault. It’s neither of ours.” “You-” “I’m leaving.” “What?!” She blanched, stepping towards me slightly, almost pained. “I- I mean I understand why, but.. You’re really leaving?” "Yes. I can't keep living here like this. I'm leaving, and I'm taking you with me." Erica suddenly halted in her gentle approach. "Wait, but.. this is my world, my home. I don't know if I can just.. run away with you."

"Of course you can! It's not like you have anything left here to care about. Just come with me, then we'll both be safe!" I begged. Erica's expression clouded over in a mixture of emotions that passed so quickly I couldn't read them. "And what then?" she asked tiredly, "I can't live in a world that's at least thirty times my size. You get to go back to your normal life, but what about me?" I flinched as I heard more trucks heading down the cutoff. "Please, we’ll figure it out later, but we have to go now." I reached out to scoop Erica up, but she sidestepped my outstretched hand and backed away. "No! Stop it! You can't just grab me and take me off to your world, that's kidnapping!" Clouds of dust sprawled out near the entrance to my little ravine. The trucks were almost there, I had to run before they forced me to stay. Anxious to flee the world and its people, I cornered Erica with both hands and held her tight — disappearing quickly into the air just as the trucks came into view. The next thing I knew, I was kneeling in the basement, Erica still trapped in my hands.

#Alexis… you poor thing #she has no clue how to fight #weapons and powers can only get her so far #have fun with the cliffhanger :)#g/t #giant/tiny #other-world universe

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madamlaydebug · 5 months ago

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“Suffering and joy teach us, if we allow them, how to make the leap of empathy, which transports us into the soul and heart of another person. In those transparent moments we know other people’s joys and sorrows, and we care about their concerns as if they were our own.”

~Fritz Williams

“Phoenix rising from the ashes.” This phrase popped into my head recently, and I wasn’t sure why until I did the research. As the story goes, the phoenix is a mythical bird with fiery plumage that lives up to 100 years. Near the end of its life, it settles in to its nest of twigs which then burns ferociously, reducing bird and nest to ashes. And from those ashes, a fledgling phoenix rises – renewed and reborn.

And now I get it. This is the story of my life in the past few months – especially the part about burning ferociously. Life presented me with some challenging circumstances that left me just hanging on. And now, sanity has returned. I look out with fresh eyes. The fog has lifted, and the dark clouds have moved on.

My experience is not unique – it happens to all of us at some point, it’s a part of the human journey. But this was my time, and I’d like to share with you what I’ve learned along the way.

Resistance is natural

When life threw me a curve, I longed for the turmoil to be over with. I wanted to pick myself up and move on. I tried hard to create a plan, to know what I didn’t know, to gain control. I was so busy trying to make things happen that I overlooked what was actually happening.

I ignored my feelings and resisted the present moment. Yes, me, the one who writes aboutwelcoming all of our experience with a loving, open heart. I was doing everything but.

Finally, I realized my approach wasn’t working. I stopped trying. I let myself be frustrated and impatient. I admitted that there was so much I didn’t know, and I let go of figuring it all out. Life was messy, so I suspended my fruitless attempts to clean it up.

And this was the beginning of the fire, as there was space for feelings and reactions to surface.

Things happen in their own time

When I look back I see that I had very little control over what happened. The seasons of my experience had to run their course – severe winter storms, cold and darkness, then the seeds hidden from view beginning to sprout (very exciting!). The best I could do was ride the waves, which I did with varying degrees of success.

Forgetting and remembering joy

When darkness descends, joy is blotted out, buried, seemingly non-existent. Everything weighed like a heavy burden, all my activities felt like obligations. When I realized that I had forgotten joy, I created a “want-to-do” list. Every time I found myself wandering around in a fog, my job was to pull out the list and do something enjoyable or productive. I organized closets andtook walks, finally starting to see the beauty around me.

And I focused on others – being a good friend, showing up for someone in need.

My self-care didn’t suffer. My diet stayed healthy, and I kept up with yoga. But some people going through hard times can benefit from paying special attention to the basics of daily living – good diet, exercise, limited alcohol.

Staying close to the bone

Things started to shift when I made the commitment to find direction in my moment-to moment experience. The big picture was way too nebulous, but I realized that in each moment there was a kernel of truth, a clarity, a “yes” that showed me my next step.

I recognized that this guidance had been there all along, but I was too caught up in trying to find solutions to see it. When I let go of paying so much attention to the stories running through my mind, of trying to control, of avoiding strong feelings, much to my surprise, I found the groundedness I was looking for – the truth in every moment.

Support was essential

At the beginning, I was going it alone, and I wouldn’t recommend it. Eventually, I reached out, allowing the vulnerability of asking for support. It came in so many beautiful, unexpected ways, but I had to let people know I needed it. And a few sessions with a therapist offered some very useful insights.

The clouds do part

“This too shall pass” were empty words to me. I looked into the future, and all I could see was confusion. My negative mind had taken over, and I couldn’t see my way out.

But the clouds do part in their own time. The human spirit is resilient and wants to find its way home to wholeness. I see this over and over in my work. I facilitate a bereavement group at a retirement community for people who have lost their spouses after sometimes 50+ years of marriage. You can just tell when someone walks through the door that they will announce they no longer need the group. They are renewed; they have gone into the darkness and found their way through.

One day I realized that I was happy, and soon after, I saw that I was thriving. I had been through the fire and emerged whole and clear, with doors opening in so many wonderful ways. The sad and frustrated stories in my mind had fallen away, and the emotions that had captured me softened. I can breathe freely again.

Eventually opening to the lessons

When people said I would look back and appreciate this time, all I could do was groan. When I was in the thick of it, it seemed like it would never end. And now, with the sun shining and flowers blooming, I can reflect on what I have learned.

Let things happen.Give up trying to control.Don’t pretend you know what you don’t know.Stay close to what you know is true in the moment.Feeling bad isn’t wrong – it’s just how things are sometimes.Take good care of yourself.Engage with others.Reach out for support.When the time is right, feel the emotions.Get perspective – learn what not to do next time.

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praline-elegy · 4 months ago

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Sry I’m new to this fandom (fence) rly but I have a few of these:

#4-Kyle

#6-Harvard

#7-Thomas

#9-Nate

#10-Jesse

#11-Sungchul

#12-Marcel

#16&17-Scott

#20-Nicholas with seiji

Anon is requesting headcanons from this prompt meme.

4 - Driving: Kyle crosses me as the kind of person to be cocky and for good reason. I think he’d get his driver’s license as soon as he turned 16 and actually be a good driver. I could also see him as the type to test well when getting his learner’s permit, but suddenly be faced with the reality of how scary driving is once he’s behind the wheel. So he’d either be one of the first or very last out of his friends to get his driver’s license (but still first for the learner’s permit).

6 - Hugging: Harvard crosses me as either really awkward or really generous with hugs. Perhaps generous with friends and awkward with acquaintances? With arms like that there’s no way he wouldn’t give a great hug, but whether he likes to give them really defines the quality of the embrace.

7 - Kissing: I think Thomas would be shy with romantic pda but would be all for it if it was familial (parents or his brother Aster kissing his cheek or forehead). In private, I think he’d love kissing to an embarrassing degree, to the point that he’d turn pink if he got walked in on, even if nothing below the belt was happening. A very shy kiss-fiend if you will.

9 - General physical contact: Nate is a very friendly character, so I think that his welcoming nature translates to his touch. He’s very comfortable with casual physical intimacy. Because of that, I think Nate could get away with being touchy-feely with people he has a crush on (but whether he’s brave enough to is another question). I also think that he suffers a facet of “nice-to-everyone” syndrome, where he’s so casually physical with everyone, the person he crushes on won’t notice the difference because “Nate does this with everyone.”

10 - General physical appearance: Jesse’s aware that he’s conventionally attractive. He knows it and he lives it. He likes his blonde hair and blue eyes, but sometimes he wonders what he’d look like with more of his mom’s features. Everyone tells him that he looks like a copy + paste of his father when Robert was his age, and at first he reveled in that knowledge, but as he got older he felt a bit confined in that image. He’s probably considered dying his hair to match his mom’s in the past, but never quite went through with it. There’s a box of brown dye sitting in the back of his closet that he bought when he was 15. He’s either never told anyone this, or only told Seiji this.

11 - Wardrobe: While I love Sungchul, I don’t have any concrete opinions about his wardrobe. He probably owns a bunch of good quality basics (like egyptian cotton or pure cashmere) and the only graphic tees that he owns are from Halverton or ones that he’s received from participating in sporting events.

12 - Jewelry: I don’t really think about Marcel too much to have thought about it, but he either crosses me as someone who doesn’t wear any, or wears a couple of rings on his fingers.

16 - Anger: Scott’s a very friendly kind of guy so I imagine he’d be the type to have a simmering kind of anger. The quiet kind that doesn’t happen often but when it does it’s really bad. Scott’s emotions often turn to exasperation or frustration rather than anger, so most of his friends (except a select few) have ever seen him mad, and when he is, he’s furious.

17 - Soft spot: Scott has a soft spot for cats. There’s an outdoor cat that often visits his house and Scott has a dedicated pile of cat treats in his pantry for her. He turns into pudding when it comes to her. She hopped onto his back and laid there once while he was doing push-ups and he Did Not Move until she got off (luckily Scott was already laying prone on the ground, otherwise planking for more than two minutes would’ve been miserable). (He’s also pudding for his crush/boyfriend, but I’d also argue that anyone would be soft for the people they love).

20 - Nicholas’ relationship with Seiji: I like to headcanon that Nicholas is touch-starved and the moment that Seiji finds out, he tries to touch Nicholas more often in meaningful ways. A squeeze of the bicep for comfort, shoulders pressing together to acknowledge the other’s presence, massaging the cramp out of Nicholas’ hand after fencing, and then lingering there after the ache is gone. Intimacy in small gentle touches.

#praline answers #fence asks #fenceasks #sorry nate i’m projecting :’)#also i love egyptian cotton it’s so soft and smooth #this is the saddest jesse headcanon i’ve ever come up with 🥹

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pallastrology · 1 year ago

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my ‘23/24 solar return chart

hello :-) it was my birthday this week, i turned 27, and i wanted to take a look at my solar return chart for the year ahead. i found it really insightful but a little daunting, and thought writing about it would help me find more clarity. i’ve inserted a picture of the chart below so you can take a look; if you see anything interesting, i’d love to hear about it! when analysing my chart for the year, i noticed two recurring themes, which, to my mind, are balance and healing.

the concept of balance comes up again and again. it makes sense to me that this would be an issue; my life is very chaotic right now, with a lot changing both internally and externally. i am having to adapt, which is proving quite the challenge. there’s a lot going on in the seventh house of my solar return chart, with a stellium consisting of the sun, mercury and venus (as well as lilith, juno and pallas). with so much activity here, i’m seeing themes of communication, connection and contracts. my sun conjunct pallas tells me i will need to trust my own abilities and develop my intellect and intuition, while its square to vesta in the fifth house tells me i will need to think about what is best for me in the long run, not necessarily what lifts discomfort temporarily. something a little lighter is happening with mercury, forming a trine to jupiter; a placement that will hopefully serve me well as i start my first year of university. it implies generosity and tolerance, a way with words, a lust for knowledge and aptitude to languages and cultural studies, though it can get lazy at times. venus conjunct juno and sextile mars in the eighth house indicates that my relationship is reaching a new level of comfort and maturity, without missing out on fun or intimacy. venus is actually almost exactly at her natal position, which is interesting to me; makes me think of something coming full circle, or a lesson being repeated somewhere.

lilith features quite strongly in my solar return chart too, being in the anaretic degree, in the busiest house, in her natal sign like venus. i was struck quite quickly by the fact that she is connected to neptune and pluto by quincunxes - forming what would be (if she were a planet) a yod aspect. although not technically a yod, i believe this is still an important pattern to look at. it indicates a time of painful realisations; illusions being shattered and my relationships with myself and others changing drastically. the balance i need to find here is in accepting reality without letting myself be crushed by it, and learning to keep my emotional self safe without resorting to extremes. this need to balance the pain of healing with the pain of suffering repeats again with a mars-chiron opposition; do i walk into the line of fire or run away from it? the key here lies with venus (coming full circle…), as we can see that mars is sextile and chiron is trine the planet of love. forming a relationship with my wounds, treating them with kindness and care, not running away or pushing my way out of the pain but not exhausting myself from it, is the way forward.

another interesting aspect pattern forms between the moon, in airy aquarius and the first house, jupiter in taurus and the third house, and ceres in scorpio and the eighth house. again, i see themes of balance and harmony coming up in relation to healing. this time, it looks specifically at caring for my loved ones’ emotional needs without losing track of my own. there isn’t a clear “out” with this pattern; while the moon and jupiter form a harmonious connection, it doesn’t extend to ceres. this makes me think that this will be a recurring theme with a bit of a power struggle involved, which makes sense; we can’t control when we or others need more TLC, after all, and it doesn’t always work out that we take turns.

looking through the chart as a whole, i think that the year ahead is all about balance and connection; shattering illusions without crumbling under harsh reality, stepping into my own power and wisdom while allowing my nurturing side to take pride of place, embracing emotional intimacy without neglecting the material world and its demands… healing looks to be a big theme too, but an ugly, painful kind of healing. it looks like i will have to shed a lot of layers this year, and come to terms with a lot in order to tune into the repressed and neglected parts of myself and come out of it more of a whole individual. the search for myself goes ever on and on, i suppose.

i hope this post was interesting to read 🩵

kira xo

#pallastrology #astrology #astrology blog #astrology post #solar return #solar return chart #birth chart reading

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flock-talk · 1 year ago

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Hi, I’ve got an odd question for you! Do you think parrots would gain anything from being around much smaller bird species, such as finches or diamond doves? Not having actual contact as I wouldn’t want a larger parrot beak being around much smaller finch bodies, but I’m wondering if any enrichment would be gained from just being in cages near each other? Like being to hear and see each other without actual contact. My parrot is a quaker parrot (please give Toto a smooch for me) and we are moving into our first ever house in January and I’m really worried that he’s going to suffer going from having the interaction with my family to only having interaction with me, and I’ll be doing full time work and full time school. Obviously I will do everything I can to give him time and attention, I was just curious if he would gain any enjoyment from being around some smaller birds, since they would require less one on one time from me. Just curious on your thoughts, hope you and all your critters are doing well!!

Really depends on the bird on that one

To some extent seeing another bird around can potentially help things like confidence, helping them feel safer when “alone”, etc. to some extent it may provide some level of enrichment as something visually stimulating with some degree of possibility that they may try to converse or interact through vocalizations

But there’s also a decent risk for things like territorial stress kicking in, resource guarding, general feelings of being threatened, feeling like you’re replacing them/ new bird taking you away from them. Especially with an already stressful adjustment period adding another bird on top of that would place an increased risk for the bird to be perceived more as a threat than a friend.

I’d be tempted to say that the benefits of adding a second non parrot bird with the primary function of entertaining the existing bird would be better met by things like a running TV, video calls, window access, and a radio/ music playing. Along with things like increased foraging enrichment, enclosure size, and other species appropriate activities!

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mrs-sharp · 7 months ago

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Hey! I’m hoping to get around to your fic soon (I have a long list to catch up on 😂) I love all your screenshots.

Might I request an info-dump on your OC? I love hearing about people’s characters.

If not no worries! Just thought I’d drop in and say hi 😊

Hi to you, too! 😄 You're always welcome to drop in. First of all, thank you for the kind words about my blog and asking about my mc. I'm always excited if someone is actually interested in my stories, and I apologize in advance if this post got a bit out of hand.

So, here we go.

Some random facts about my mc, Elaine Hopkins:

• born in Scarborough on 19/01/1875 (though she doesn't know her birthplace)

• Wand: cedar wood, dragon heartstring, slightly springy, ten and three-quarter inches

• Patronus: Graphorn (surprise!)

• I believe in the headcanon that if she was an animagus, she would turn into a fox (as a child, she often wandered alone through fields and meadows, and sometimes foxes would follow her, but she was never afraid of them – it was more like they were looking out for her)

• she is a Ravenclaw

→ the sorting hat took a long time deciding whether to place her in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw

→ she is not the typical bookworm; she learns more from practical experience, which is why she adapted well to Sharp's class from the start

→ Elaine is quiet but friendly and helpful and possesses a high degree of empathy (which is also her greatest weakness and often leads her to put the needs of others before her own)

→ although she is quiet and reserved, she is quick-witted and knows how to use sarcasm.

→ she is very good at drawing, kept all her drawings but has given it up for a reason she doesn't want to talk about

→ her favourite subjects are Care of Magical Creatures, Potions, and Defense Against the Dark Arts

→ although she is very popular, she is more of a loner; her best friend is Poppy Sweeting, as they share a passion for magical creatures

→ because she is very reserved and quiet, she mastered non-verbal spells very early on

→ she loves nature, especially the sea, where she enjoys watching Graphorns along the coast

• Elaine Hopkins is not her real name; she grew up in an orphanage where she simply appeared one day; she was 5 years old at the time

→ she didn't know who she was or where she came from, so one of her older „sisters" gave her the name

→ said older sister (Katherine Davies, or Kath for short) soon became a friend and role model for her, as she took care of the younger children; Kath liked Elaine because she was a quiet and intelligent child

→ as Elaine got older, Kath disappeared one day, and from then on Elaine took over her role, teaching the other children, among other things, how to read

→ Elaine was passed from one master to another to bring in some money for the orphanage; if a supervisor tried to discipline her, an unknown force often seemed to protect her, which is why she usually didn't stay in one place for too long

• Fig was the closest thing to a father for her, so after his death, she outwardly tries to carry on her daily life normally, but inwardly withdraws even more

• after graduation

→ even during her school days, Elaine sensed that Sharp was suffering not only from his injury but also from the events related to it

→ she decides to go on journeys to research Graphorns and find a cure for Sharp

→ after her unsuccessful search, she began training as an Auror in 1894

→ works as an Auror until 1900

→ she reopens the Scarborough case and uncovers a black market for goblin artefacts

• After an injury, she takes over the position for Defense Against the Dark Arts and returns to Hogwarts (the parallels to Sharp's story are no coincidence 🙃)

• she owns a small cottage on the Eastern edge of Cragcroft from which you can see the sea and where she finds some peace

#hogwarts legacy #professor sharp #aesop sharp #professor aesop sharp #hogwarts legacy main character #hogwarts legacy mc #elaine hopkins

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allthebeautifulsouls · 8 months ago

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CW: mention of theoretical rape/non-con, discussion of mental health, mention of smut

I’d like to try to start writing fic—I’m pretty sure I’ve exhausted all AO3 has tagged with Helmut Zemo. Perhaps let’s start there. Why on earth have I latched onto this middle aged man with such a ludicrous degree of self-projection?

This is a terrorist. He is referred to as a war criminal—you don’t get that designation from a single bomb attack. What does one actually do on a Sokovian death squad, much less the commander? I should take him and his crimes seriously. My brain always conveniently slides over this part. I suppose on some level I desperately want him to be redeemable, which I feel is fairly inconsistent with war crimes. What do I consider unforgivable? Rape. Dehumanization. Genuine non-sexual sadism—relish in the suffering of innocent others.

I can’t envision a version of Zemo that willingly rapes another human being that I can empathize with, and this seems to elicit almost a gut-reaction. I’ll enjoy some of Hydra Steve or Evil Bucky, but as soon as it gets to Zemo I balk. Some might argue that sadism is a hallmark of his personality. There’s this one brilliant writer whose work I adore who has one fic discussing the possibility of Zemo’s actual war crimes, and I’ve never actually finished it, each time I feel almost nauseated. Why is this so?

While he’s likely been my strongest obsession, he wasn’t the first. For a few years there were Bucky recovery fics (pre-TFATWS). For a time in college, when I went through my depressive episode and all that came after, I genuinely felt that I had no idea how to be a human being and that I had to establish it from first principles. To have this character literally try to figure out how to be a human being and not a machine, I think it calmed something inside me to see my internal struggle made so explicitly external and magnified. How do you build from nothing? Or, worse than nothing, a ragged slate of pain and numbness and despair and fear? Of course, my issues weren’t anywhere near the magnitude of those depicted on screen and in fic. To be honest, they’re fairly typical of figuring out how to be a young adult. Still, this kind of fic deeply resonated with me for reasons I couldn’t understand. Throw in my figuring out my sexuality and interests over that same period, my exploration of kink, and there were a whole bunch of interesting things—still are.

And now, a slightly different time in my life, a different character. In truth, I think what it always is, as with all comfort characters, is projecting my deepest insecurities and dearest hopes onto them. Wanting to find a better story for myself. I’m a sucker for a redemption arc—I started figuring this out with Zemo, but it really crystallized after I read a few excellent Draco/Harry fics. I want to see someone who has genuinely been bad put in the work to genuinely become good. I want to believe that I, too, can be redeemed, even if I can’t figure out yet how to ask from what.

I’ve had a bit of trouble with some slight scrupulosity, and so it’s this version of Zemo as an exhausted, world-weary, suicidal, scrupulously moral (to his own code) master strategist that has me by the heartstrings.

He has experienced so much pain and loss, and he is so tired, and his is so driven by this one overwhelming goal, and everything must be precisely the way it should be—come hell or high water he’ll finish his mission. He’s a master strategist, he looks at the world and sees interlocking systems, identifies the many interwoven strings and twings only the precisely correct one to accomplish his goal. He is precise and methodical and tired and hurt, still hurting, still working. I want to see him rewarded for his efforts, see him acknowledged as good, redeemed, a protagonist suffering instead of a villain wallowing. Painting him as a tragic figure allows me to feel better somehow in my small challenges—not necessarily a positive all the time. I can and have, after all, thrown myself into reading fanfic to hide from my fear, shirk my responsibilities. It hasn’t always had a positive impact on my life. And yet in other ways it has been deeply comforting and inspiring. And just fun.

With that all being said, the majority of this blog will be unrepentant smut XD

#winterbaron #helmut zemo #tfatws #bucky barnes #fanfic #ao3

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coughdontfeelwellcough · 2 years ago

Text

For The First Time (L/ockwood and Co)

Summery: An easy job goes wrong when Lockwood fails to mention he’s sick, luckily Lucy is always there to pick up the pieces.

Words: 3459

Author’s Note: Hi guys, so I’m abolutley obsessed with L/ockwood and Co, and if you’ve not watched it on netflix yet, please do!! Its about ghosts, ghouls, it’s found family, there’s plently of whump and one of the best slow burn romances I’ve seen in years! I’d like to add this is based off of the tv show where all the characters are in their early twenties.

TW: Mentions of death and suicide. (mentions only in the terms of the ghosts)

I hope you enjoy!!

Lockwood had promised it would be an easy job, only a couple of type-ones in an old hotel, currently undergoing construction. It should have been open and shut, so why in the taxi back to Portland Road was Lockwood all but unconscious in the passenger seat and Lucy sat clutching an injured arm?

Stupid, stubborn Lockwood, that’s why.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t have brought George?” Lucy asked, struggling with the extra bags.

“Yes, because if I had to listen to him sniffling for another minute I would not be responsible for my actions,” Lockwood replied.

George had been suffering with a particularly noisy cold for the last few days and though finally on the mend it was nice to get a bit of a break from his complaining about not being able to breathe through his nose. Even if it meant the added bags were giving her back ache.

They entered the hotel through a back door, a key having been left for them. It was clearly having work done, the walls were bare, the kitchen had been half ripped out and there were various bits of building equipment everywhere. They made camp at the reception desk, the front doors had been bordered up and sofas covered in dust sheets. Still they managed to find some chairs to sit on to drink their tea.

“Do you think this was a nice hotel once?” Lucy asked.

She’d never been in a hotel before, her family never went on nice holidays. They’d be lucky to get a caravan on Skegness beach.

“Hm? I don’t know… Maybe,” Lockwood replied.

Lucy looked over to see Lockwood facing away from her, his tea half undrunk.

“Are you okay?” she asked, thinking about it Lockwood had seemed a bit distracted all day. He’d nearly forgotten to pack the chains and they’d gotten lost on their way from the tube station.

“Absolutely fine Luce,” he said, giving her one of his charming smiles. Though Lucy couldn’t help but notice it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Shall we begin?” he said, checking his watch. It was past six and the dusk had crept in making the shadows on the walls tower over them. Lucy nodded and started gathering up their things, though she couldn’t help but notice his tea stayed unfinished.

“Where are we going?” Lucy asked, pulling the chains over her shoulder.

“The third floor, the reports sai…” Lockwood paused, stifling two sneezes into his coat

sleeve. “HI’TWX… HIT’SSX.”

“Bless you!”

“Sorry, dust,” he said, rubbing his nose with his fist.

“You’re sure you haven’t caught George’s cold?”

“What? Of course not,” he said smiling, his nose a little pink.

Lucy wasn’t convinced but didn’t say anything and just started up the stairs. The third floor was a mess, ceiling tiles were missing, wallpaper peeling and various doors hanging by their hinges.

“Looks like no ones been up here in a very long time,” Lucy said.

“It was abandoned not long after The Problem started, not many people felt safe staying in the city,” Lockwood replied.

Lucy nodded and started laying the chains in a circle in the largest part of the hallway. She’d not long finished when the temperature started to drop.

“Are you feeling that?” Lucy asked.

Lockwood nodded. “10 degrees and dropping,”

“How many are we dealing with?”

“Should be no more than three, two suicides and an heart attack,” Lockwood replied, coughing lightly. Lucy looked over at him as he ran a hand over his face, he looked tired. Even more so than usual.

“Do you want to sit down or something? You look knackered,” Lucy said.

“Luce, I keep telling you I’m fined.” She didn’t miss the stuffiness in his voice but didn’t have time to say anything as she heard a ghostly voice call out.

“I’m sorry…. I’m so sorry…”

“Can you see anything? I’ve got a voice, it keeps saying sorry.”

“I’m sorry… I couldn’t do it anymore….”

“Lockwood?”

A ghostly figure had appeared at the far end of the hallway and was slowly making its way toward her.

“Lockwood?!” Lucy yelled, looking around he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Then she heard another voice, closer and more desperate.

“Help me! Oh god… Please help me…”

Lucy drew her rapier and moved to the centre of the circle, where was Lockwood? He was behind her just a second ago.

“I’m so sorry….. Help me!” The voices were so close they were blurring together, Lucy reached into her belt for a salt bomb.

“Lockwood!!” she screamed one last time and then she saw movement to her left in one of the rooms and there was another noise, it sounded like someone coughing?

Lucy edged out of the circle and toward the room, rapier raised and ready. The door was already off its hinges and she entered slowly, keeping the creeping ghost in sight for as long as possible. She found Lockwood hunched over and hacking up a lung in the corner, he sounded awful.

“Lockwood!” she snapped.

He finally looked up to see her and even in the low light she could see how sickly pale he was.

“Lucy, what’s wrong?” he rasped, choking back another cough.

“I’m being cornered by two ghosts and my backup is too busy dying to help!”

“I’m not dying,” he sniffed.

“Then get over here! I’ve got one coming down the hallway and another approaching from the right.”

They edged back out of the room together, Lockwood sticking to Lucy’s left. Up close she could hear the congestion in his breathing, how’d he managed to get so sick so quickly? He’d seemed fine only a little while ago.

The visitor in the hallway had reached the iron circle, it was a wispy thing in the vague shape of a man. It was still repeating how sorry it was and something seemed to drip from it like it might have been bleeding. Lockwood threw a salt bomb at it and it disappeared as Lucy went after the one in the right hand room. It was larger than the other one, more fully formed in the shape of a rather large man. It hoovered near the floor like it might have been kneeling.

“Help me… Help me please…” It continued to beg, Lucy honestly felt bad for it. It must have been an unpleasant death. Keeping her rapier steady in one hand she got a salt bomb but before she could throw it there was a noise from the hallway.

“Lockwood?”

When he didn’t reply she swore and backed out of the room, salt bomb still in hand. Lockwood stood outside the iron circle, rapier raised to ward off a third visitor. This one had come from behind them and was creeping at a quicker pace than the others. The noise she’d heard was Lockwood, he was sneezing.

“HITT’SSHWW…. HIISSHH’TEWW…. HISSHHHH’EWWW….”

The ghost was getting far too close and Lockwood’s hand was shaking as he tried to hold his rapier steady. Lucy barely had time to react; she ran to Lockwood, wrapped her arm around his waist and threw them both into the circle, landing painfully on her right arm.

“Shit…” Lucy laid on her back, her toes touching the chains and sore arm across her chest.

“Thanks Luce, I thought I was a goner…” Lockwood said, breathing heavily.

“What happened? You were fine one minute,” she said, pushing herself up with her good arm.

“It snuck up on me, I didn’t see it until it was on top of me.” His voice was getting congested, his words stuffy.

“Because you’re sick and were too busy sneezing to notice,” Lucy replied, she’d just about had enough and was ready for a large mug of tea and a bath.

“I am not sick…” Lockwood tried to argue but it sounded more like “I amb dot sick.”

Lucy opened her mouth to argue but was stopped when the ghost she’d been previously dealing with joined them in the hallway. It seemed larger than before but still appeared to be kneeling, floating barely above the floor.

“I thought you’d got that one,” Lockwood sniffed, running his wrist under his nose.

“Sorry, I was a bit busy saving your life!” she snapped. Getting to her feet, Lucy picked up her rapier from where it had fallen, it felt wrong in her left hand but her right still felt pretty useless.

“On the count of three, throw a salt bomb at it,” she said.

“I’m out.”

Lucy cursed, she was going to kill him. She’d dropped hers and couldn’t use her hand to get into her bag.

“What do you have?”

“Magnesium flare,” he replied.

Lucy groaned, they’d been trying to avoid the use of magnesium flares after the events of Sheen Road unless desperately needed and it seemed injured and ill seemed desperate enough.

“Use it, just be ready to run!”

Lockwood stood beside her, his hair was everywhere and there was an unnatural brightness to his eyes.

“Ready?” he asked, putting his hand on her good arm.

Lucy nodded and he threw the flare, it exploded in a rain of iron, salt and fire. They ran down all three flights of stairs and out the door, only coming to a stop once they were outside in the glow of the ghost lamp. Lockwood was coughing again, so hard he was shaking. Lucy put her arm around him and guided him over to a low wall and forced him to sit. He finally regained control of his breathing though she could hear congested rattling about in his chest.

“You’re an idiot,” she said.

“Why?”

“You’re ill! And you didn’t bother to tell me! You nearly got us both ghost touched in there, what were you thinking?” Lucy snapped, running a hand over her face.

Now it was over she could feel how much her body ached, her skin burning from where the magnesium had touched it and her right arm was still throbbing painfully.

“I’m fine,” he sniffed, pulling a well used tissue from his pocket.

He looked awful, a good few shades paler than he usually was, his nose was already bright red and his cheeks had an unhealthy feverish tint. Lucy was quite tempted to yell at him some more but decided against it, she just wanted to get back to Portland Road, plus she knew George would have a few choice words when they got in.

The taxi was surprisingly quiet, Lockwood was curled up against the window, the only noise being his coughing and sniffling. Lucy sat on the other side, her injured arm on her lap. It was probably only a sprain from the fall but it definitely hurt. She was still mad at Lockwood but looking at him, looking the picture of illness, half asleep against the window it was hard to stay mad at him.

It had just gone 2am when they pulled up outside No.35. Lucy had to help Lockwood to the door as he was shaking so badly, luckily George must have seen them approach and opened the door before they’d even reached the first step.

“What the hell happened to you?” He said.

“Just help me get him will you?” Lucy asked.

Between the pair of them they got Lockwood onto the sofa and under a blanket as he was still shivering so hard his teeth were chattering.

“Is he ghost touched?” George asked, looking over his friend for signs of injury.

“No,” Lucy replied, collapsing on the sofa beside him. “He’s got your cold and didn’t tell me, nearly got us both killed.”

“Jesus Lockwood, what were you thinking?” George asked.

“I dob’t have your cold,” Lockwood replied, though his point was nearly lost on how stuffy his voice was.

Lucy rolled her eyes and reached her good hand up his forehead, pressing her cool fingers to his overheated skin.

“No, but you do have the flu apparently! You’re burning up Lockwood…”

Lockwood groaned and leant back against the sofa, seeming to accept for the first time that he was indeed ill.

“Good god, I miss one case and it all goes to hell..” George muttered.

“Can you make some tea please George? And get the first aid kit? I’ve done something to my wrist.”

George nodded and they heard him descend the stairs into the kitchen.

“You’re hurt?” Lockwood asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“It’s nothing, just a sprain. I landed on it when we fell.”

George returned with two of their largest mugs of tea, the first aid kit and a whole pack of tissues.

“I’m not sure we’ve got any flu meds, I’ll have to go in the morning and get some,” he said.

“I keep telling you, I’m fin’d,” Lockwood argued, though he was clinging onto his tea like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

Lucy just sighed and opened up the kit, looking for something she could bandage her wrist with.

“Here, let me.”

Lockwood put down his tea and took the kit from her. He laid her wrist in his lap and began carefully wrapping it up until his breath starting hitching.

“HHHh…. hhHH…Hhh… HHHITISS’EEWW… HIST’SSHHewww…. HI…HIS…HISTT’SSHHEWWww…”

He sneezed into his shoulder, his whole body shaking with the force of them.

“Bless you!” said both George and Lucy.

“ No…Not… Done….HISSHH’Ewww…. HITTSH’EEWwww….”

“Jeez Lockwood, you sound awful,” George said.

“I’m f…”

“If you say fine I am going to kill you,” Lucy said.

Lockwood sighed, coughing into his fist. “You guys are such bullies.”

“Only when you’re being an idiot.. Which is all the time,” Lucy smiled as Lockwood tried to scowl at her but he just looked like a sick puppy. They stayed until they’d drunk their tea and eaten a sufficient amount of biscuits then slowly they made their ways to bed. A good night's rest was in desperate need for everyone at Lockwood and Co.

So when Lucy was woken at 7am, a mere 4 hours after going to bed she was not best pleased. At first she wasn’t sure what had woken her but then she heard it again, a sound was coming from downstairs and it sounded a lot like coughing. Lockwood. Lucy got up, her legs wobbly after the long night and made her way toward Lockwood’s room. The door was closed but she could still hear him, desperate, hacking coughs that sounded like they were tearing at his chest. She knocked at the door.

“Lockwood? Are you okay?”

“Luce?” His voice cracked and he coughed again.

Lucy pushed up the door and found him sat up in bed, wearing one of his oversized grey hoodies and looking like death.

“Are you alright? I’ve seen type twos that look better than you,” she said.

“I think you and George were right, I feel like hell,” he said, leaning back against the headboard. Lucy did really feel bad for him, he sounded and looked awful.

Whatever bug he’d picked up had taken him down hard and fast.

“Can I get you anything?” she asked.

“Some tea would be amazing,” he croaked, his voice nearly gone.

“Okay, tea is coming up.”

Lucy went down to the kitchen and put the kettle on, she was surprised George hadn’t woken up at the sound of Lockwood’s coughing or the sound of the kettle but it was probably better if at least one of them got a decent sleep. Lucy finished making two large mugs of tea and was about to head back to Lockwood’s room when she saw him on the sofa instead.

“What are you doing out of bed?”

“Thought I’d be comfier here,” he said, pulling the thick blanket around his shoulders.

Lucy just shrugged and gave him his tea before joining him on the sofa.

“Is it me or does this tea kind of taste like snot?” he asked.

Lucy laughed. “It’s you, you’re so congested you probably can’t taste anything.”

Lockwood gave a stuffy groan. “What kind of illness makes tea taste bad? That’s just evil.”

“You’re obviously just that lucky,” Lucy laughed.

Lockwood frowned and pulled his legs up to his chest, he was shivering again.

“Are you cold?”

He nodded, coughing roughly into his fist.

“Do you mind?” she asked, holding out her hand. She’d never asked to touch him before but this seemed different, they were alone and he was vulnerable. More vulnerable than she’d ever seen him and it felt weird, like they’d crossed into unknown territory.

“Go ahead.”

Lucy leant across and placed her hand on his forehead then she trailed down to his cheeks and neck.

“Your fever’s risen…” She went to remove her hand but he stopped her, putting her hand back against his cheek.

“That feels nice,” he mumbled, eyes closed.

“I should really find a thermometer…. And something cool for your head…”

“Don’t go..” His voice was so weak, so small. It was unlike him to ask for anything, how could she deny him?

“I’m not going anywhere.” she ran her hand through his hair, detangling the sweaty strains. He leant into her touch until his head rested on her shoulder.

It doesn’t take them long before they’re both asleep again, curled up together on the sofa. And that’s how George found them a few hours later, Lockwood snoring through his congestion with Lucy’s arms around him.

“Great, now you’re both going to get sick. Then what am I going to do?”

“What’s George complaining about?” Lockwood asked, his face pressed against Lucy’s shoulder.

“Don’t know, don’t really care,” Lucy mumbled, still half asleep.

“I said, what am I going to do when you’re both sick? I’m not going out there by myself,” George said, vaguely gesturing to the outside world.

“Maybe Lockwood and Co is going to have a little break, can’t kill us right?” Lucy said.

“As long as we don’t lose any customers. George I need you t…. HIST’WX… HIS’TWX….” Lockwood stifled two sneezes into his wrist with a wince, no doubt they were hell on his throat.

“Bless you, you’ve got to stop doing that, you’ll burst an eardrum,” Lucy said.

Lockwood groaned and blew his nose into a tatty tissue “I just need George to ring Mr Morgan on Thames Street and tell him we’ll be there next week and…”

“Lockwood stop it, we’ve got it. The agency isn’t going to fall apart because you take a sick day,” George said.

“Yeah… Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry,” Lockwood sniffed.

“Did Lockwood just say sorry? Quick Lucy, check his fever. He must be dying!”

Lucy laughed and Lockwood tried but only ended up coughing, hand on his chest as the coughs tore through his lungs.

“Breathe, breathe, you’re okay,” Lucy patted his back and forced him to drink sips of water until the fit ended, leaving him drained and shaky.

“I think you need to go back to bed,” Lucy said.

Lockwood nodded, looking exhausted. The dark marks under his eyes were worse than usual, especially against his pale pallor.

“And I’m going to go out and get you some medicine, is there anything you’d like?” George asked.

“Ice lollies? Mum always gave us ice lollies when we were sick as kids,” Lockwood said. He so rarely mentioned his family that it was a testament to how awful he was feeling, to be in need of such comfort.

“Of course, anything else?”

“Get him some cough stuff, I don’t want to have to drag his butt to hospital with pneumonia,” Lucy said.

George nodded. “Okay, I’ll be back soon.”

Lucy had to help Lockwood back up the stairs, he was so weak and feverish that just standing up was a great effort. He curled back up under his pile of blankets with a sigh, his shivers finally starting to ease.

“Try and get some sleep, I’ll wake you when George gets back with the meds,” Lucy said.

“Hey… I didn’t say you could go.”

Lucy smiled and sat on the side of the bed, her hand finding his.

“Go to sleep,” she said.

“I’d sleep better with you here,”

Lucy chuckled, she couldn’t deny him that either. He’d made sure to leave enough room for her to climb in beside him. He curled up to her, his head on her chest and her arms around him. It wasn’t the first time they’d touched or even fallen asleep side by side but it was the first time one of them had asked for it, and maybe it was the first time they’d both start to think there was something more there. But in that moment it didn’t matter, he needed her and she would always be there to help pick up the pieces.

“Feel better Antony.”

#Sickfic #l/ockwood and co #snez #snezblr #snez fic #coughing #fever #L/ockwood is a stubborn idiot #I love them all so much

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lovedrunkheadcanons · 2 years ago

Text

Chapter Contents

(Arranged Marriage Fic) Read on AO3

Rated M

“Fuck me, of course it had to be a trick room.”

Satoru growled these words as he wandered restlessly down the accursed tunnels. The signs had been everywhere, plain as day. He hated himself for not seeing it sooner. Most Domains were imbued with hidden abilities meant to stifle opponents; sub-degree temperatures, rugged terrain, psychological illusions. Trick rooms functioned as a deadly concoction of all three, a deterrent used to divide and conquer. How it worked was if the Domain sensed more than one opponent — particularly if the opponent had stronger cursed energy (ie, him) — it would try to split the opponents apart, randomly moving them to different locations in the Domain like pieces on a board game, and then selectively eliminating the individuals one by one. Satoru had never been inside a trick room, but studied them plenty in school way back when. The key strategy was to “trick” the trick room, which could be accomplished by maintaining physical contact with another person. That way the trick room couldn’t discern whether the opponent was more than one, meaning Satoru shouldn’t have let go of Hannah’s hand. The trick room now decided it was playing Keep Away and transported his wife somewhere beyond his reach. In addition to being a colossal pervert, he was also a colossal dumbass. He wanted to punch something. If he got her killed for this he wasn’t sure what he’d do.

Satoru walked past another one of those eyeball things Hannah and him encountered earlier. It scuttled on the wall and blinked at him. He hurled a disc of cursed energy at it. The eyeball splattered in an array of guts and goo, its detached limbs twitching to get away. He felt nothing for it.

I’d probably become a hermit, he thought dolefully, switching back to his initial question. Seems appropriate, given all the crap they’ve put me through.

Appropriate, indeed. If a sorcerer’s mission was to prevent calamity brought on by cursed spirits and maintain the peace and security of society, then Satoru would say he had done more than his fair share. It was what he was destined to do, they said. You're the Six Eyes wielder. You have the world at your fingertips.

Hannah’s death would drive a burning stake right through that bullshit narrative. It wouldn’t be the Limitless, Infinity, or even the Six Eyes responsible for her death. It would be him. His arrogance. His failure. He let another person, someone so innocent, so kind, die on his watch. Destiny had chosen the wrong person to wield this power. Her death would be his greatest suffering.

So he’d build a hut on a high mountain overlooking the sea. Shave his head and renounce all earthly pleasures - even sweets if he had to - and live off the land. Forage for berries or some shit. Drink water from a stream. Compose poetry and get in touch with his sensitive side. Maybe write something insightful they’d teach the kiddos centuries down the road. However he chose to bide his time, it’d be spent waiting for the next life. The Gojo line would follow the way of the dinosaurs; Extinction.

And as he reflected upon his family’s demise and the possibility of being reborn in one of the eight burning hells, Satoru began monotonously twirling his wedding ring with his thumb. It was a habit he had picked up after going bare knuckled for so many years. The gold felt moored to his finger. He could pull, twist, scrape, and bite, and still the band wouldn’t — Wait a minute. Yes. Yes, of course. The ring! Hannah was wearing her wedding ring too. Nanami said cursed spirits shouldn’t be able to detect her signature within a hundred meter radius. The trick room was alerted of her presence because she was a living being, but even then, the protective charm imbued on her ring should throw the curse off the trail. And she wasn’t completely defenseless. There was also the knife he gave her.

Knowing this reassured him a little. Hannah was smart. She wouldn’t try anything reckless. She would be alright and would be found. He had to believe that.

Satoru walked briskly down the curse-infested Domain, his legs functioning on their own accord. The headache winding up the bass of his skull had intensified. He couldn’t wait to get out of this place. He turned the corner and caught the shine of something glittering near the wall.

Hannah’s shoes. All night he had been sneaking glances of her struggling to wear them. Must’ve finally taken them off. Good. It meant she had been here. She was alive. He then caught the glowing residuals littering the ground like toxic paw prints. A frown formed on his face.

The curse had been here too.

Satoru did not consider himself to have a short-fuse. He had his moments during the lonely-spent summers of his youth, but on the whole, anger did not come naturally to him. It was too much work, too much hassle. And yet eyeing the residual matrix on the ground, the knowledge that this curse was looking to harm someone he cared about, made Satoru's piss boil. The rage seemed all consuming. The kind of irrational, split-second rage that got drivers killed because they weren’t minding the road, but for Satoru brought everything into focus. He could feel his orientation slip, the lines between sanity and madness blurring together like dopamine straight to the head. His body hummed in anticipation, his heart beated excitedly. He felt the pull on his lips, cursed energy drawing around him like he was the center of gravity. He was going to tear this curse apart, limb from limb, bone from bone.

And he was going to enjoy every last fucking second of it.

Hiro watched the golden light radiate from Hannah’s hands, brightening both ends of the tunnel. He could see what she looked like now. The sparkly evening dress she wore was tattered, a long jagged slit exposing her leg. And her auburn hair was disheveled and matted. She was pretty, he thought. In that foreign kind of way. But with her shoeless feet, she looked like a crazed wildling venturing out of the woods after surviving a lifetime on her own. He shivered. If someone like her looked that way, what must he look like?

The boy continued watching the concentration evolve on her face, the furrowed brow and twitching lips. After approaching something short of twenty minutes, the golden light began fading like the flame of a candle. The tunnel grew dark again. In a great exhale, Hannah lowered her arms. Every part of her body felt drained of energy. She had only ever tried it on plants, not people. In essence, it was easier to grow a rose bush than heal a paper cut or a seven inch gash on a child’s leg. The process left her seeing vertigo and she had difficulty staying upright. Her stomach became slightly nauseous, and the ill feeling quickly spread to the rest of her body. But the plan had worked. She had successfully extracted most, if not all, of the cursed energy fettered in Kenta’s wound. The boy began to stir. His eyes fluttered.

“Onī-san,” he said groggily.

“Kenta!” Hiro embraced his baby brother. “You’re alive!”

Kenta sleepily looked around and sat up, rubbing his crusty eyelids. He didn’t know why Nii-san was crying or who turned off all the lights or why it smelled like poo. And for some confusing reason the top of his leg was itchy and his tummy hurt.

“Where’s Mama?” he mumbled.

“I don’t know,” Hiro said. “Hannah’s gonna help us look for her. And Papa.”

“Hannah? Who’s that?”

“This nice lady here.” Hiro grabbed Hannah’s sweaty hand in the dark and tried pulling her for Kenta to see.

The dazed four year old squinted his eyes. He could just make out the shaded outline of the lady his brother had named. He caught the low-lit sparkles of her dress, something shining like two eyes and long hair. “Woah,” he said. “Is she cool like big brother?”

“Yeah, she’s cool. She made your leg all better. See?”

Of course, this was a silly thing to say. The four year old couldn’t see anything past his nose, nor did he understand the previous ramifications of his leg. His eyes began to lull, feeling tired.

“All better,” Kenta yawned, closing his lids dreamily. “Night night, Onī-san.”

Hiro panicked when his brother’s body went slack. “No, Kenta!”

This prompted Hannah to snap from her stupor and return to Kenta’s aid. She touched his forehead. It was still warm. The fever hadn’t broken. She quickly checked his vitals, feeling his wrist to count the heartbeats with her fingers like she’d been trained to do in the hospitals. 87 beats. A steady pulse at rest. Anything over 110 was life threatening.

“He’s stable,” she assured, gently sweeping the little boy's hair to one side. “For now, at least.” Kenta being knocked cold could be due to a whole range of factors. Dehydration being one. An adult could last three days without drinking water. Hannah didn’t know the duration a child could last, and she wasn’t going to sit there and find out.

She grabbed Hiro’s hand.

“We need to move.”

Hiro felt something like a whimper climb up the back of his throat. “But I’m scared.”

Hannah squeezed.

“I know you are,” she said shakily. “I’m scared too. But I have someone here who’s looking for us. He knows a way out of this place. So it’s very important that we reach him before the monster — ”

Upon mentioning the monster, the six year old began to cry, tears trickling down his pudgy face. Hannah leaned close and swiped her thumb across his cheek, reminiscent of something his Mama would do.

“You have to be brave now, Hiro,” she urged. “You have to be brave for Kenta. Can you do that for me? Be brave?”

Hiro was deeply afraid, more so than ever, but he knew Hannah was trying to help, and wiped the drainage from his nose. “You w-won’t let go?” he sniffed.

“No.” She clasped his one tiny hand in hers like a knight taking a solemn oath. “I promise I won’t let go. I’m going to be holding your hand like this the whole time.”

Sniffling, Hiro took back the tantō in his wobbly hands. Hannah kneeled down next to Kenta and slipped his arms over her shoulders, carrying him piggyback and once more grabbed for Hiro’s open hand. With a benumbed tentativeness, the human trio staggered through the fleshy Domain like three blind mice — one sleeping, two awake — weaving and side-stepping over sharp, pointy fragments that jutted out of the ground like rotted teeth in a gum line. They muddled through bones and sludge and a whole host of other half-shadowed things that skittered in the dark. The passage seemed to stretch on for eternity, not knowing where it led. Hannah listened to Kenta’s soft breathing as he slept on her back. She would have to administer immediate CPR if his breathing became too erratic and arrest his heart. So far, all was good. His head snuggled comfortably on her shoulder. She readjusted her grip under his leg so he wouldn’t slide off.

Hiro clutched tightly to Hannah’s free hand, Stinging Nettle held in the other. He stayed very close, repeating her words of “You have to be brave” in his head like the lyrics to a favorite song. It was deafeningly quiet. They could only hear their labored breathing and the uneasy squish their footsteps made as inert lumps of lord-knows-what shifted beneath them.

The discs in Hannah’s spine ached from being awkwardly bent over with the weight of a four year old. Her neck felt stiff. She struggled to keep her head up, she was so tired. A part of her wanted to stop and take a break, but her conscience screamed, No, you bloody idiot! Stay awake!! There was no falling asleep. She had children to protect. Children whose lives depended on her. Stay awake. Stay awake.

Up ahead the ground dipped and gouged. The cave-like stench grew stronger the more they shuffled through the grime, a smell of rot and age and things long-ago dead. The walls drew inwards, shrinking, corralling them like herding animals. The ground, like cold jelly.

Hannah had forgotten her rosary beads in her evening bag, currently rattling inside her husband's back pocket along with her gloves. She wished she had them with her. The beads.

Much of what humans knew about angels and demons and the paranormal remained a mystery, but not all. For instance, you could not differentiate between an angel and a demon just by looking at them. They lacked physical bodies and could alter their appearance at will and had perfect knowledge. The Italian mystic Padre Pio talked of demons taking the guise of the Blessed Virgin in order to trick and deceive, while Scripture spoke of angels appearing as monstrous beasts with four faces, four wings, and hooves. That’s why you were advised to “test the spirits” either by spraying holy water, showing a holy image, or invoking the name of God. Pio also wrote that the number of demons far exceeded that of human beings, that “if they were capable of assuming a form as tiny as a grain of sand, they would block out the sun.” Hannah remembered listening to these accounts as a child before the visions became too great. At night she would lie awake in her bed clutching a crucifix and rosary, praying, invoking the name of God, afraid a demon would emerge from the shadows and possess her. However, fallen angels were restricted in their malice. They could only possess, tempt, harass, and frighten. They were not granted permission to kill or maim you. And holy angels did not go around possessing people.

Curses on the one hand were separate from demons and angels, and very much could kill you. Nor could they be cast out using traditional methods like holy images and prayer. So what were they? Why did they exist? Where did they come from? Ah, these were questions. Early theologians speculated that curses were manifestations of the Wicked One, but these theories were swiftly debunked. Satan could not “create” anything, only destroy. A better explanation came from Thomas Aquinas’ secret writings on the invisible and demonic, saying that curses were likely of human origin; the consequence for mankind’s fallen status and the existence of sin. Opposing faiths more or less concurred with Aquinas’ theory, some of whom were centuries ahead of the Dominican friar. The Great Master Kūkai went so far as to suggest that curses were perhaps, in some strange-demented way “more human than not.” What that meant exactly remained a mystery.

Still, no one faith or school of thought could conjure a sufficient answer as to why curses wandered the earth, and why Japan in particular spawned such a disproportionate number. What they could agree on were the solutions: Jujutsu. Sorcerery. Cursed energy. Exorcism.

But Hannah was not a sorcerer. She could not manipulate curse energy. She did not know how to fight something more powerful than herself. Heal, maybe. Fight, no. Helpless as a hostage locked in the boot of a burning car falling over a cliff. She was merely human. A human that could do nothing except get on her knees and pray.

Because they were not alone in the tunnel anymore. Something was out there. It sent her heart racing, that sudden, paranoid feeling they were being followed. Hannah’s grip on Hiro tightened, clinging to him as though he’d be lost forever if she let go. She walked faster. Hiro could sense it too. His eyes couldn’t help but jerk to a spot behind them.

Then they heard a noise.

It seemed at first far away, then very close; distant and then rushing ominously toward them all at once. Their eyes caught it. Something large and pale dropped to the ground with a silent whump, slowly creeping forward. A bone white face like a kabuki mask with yellow eyes rabid as disease shone from the shadows. It had been crawling on the walls like a beetle. They saw its mouth cleave into a hyper-stretched grin. The tiniest hint of acid tickled its throat as the thing spoke.

“RUN.”

Hannah did just that. She yanked Hiro by the arm with all her might and high-tailed him in the opposite direction. Her lungs, which had felt short of oxygen, seemed to give way to new breath, heart galloping in her chest. Sharp, cutting objects stoked her feet, pins and needles, slicing right through flesh and bone. She winced, but did not falter. The burning adrenaline flowing through her body nullified most of the pain. Hiro felt weightless. Her 5’1, hundred-twenty pound ass was literally dragging him down the tunnel. He was wailing and screaming, calling out for his mother. And only then did Hannah come to understand that the curse wasn’t trailing behind them, hot on their heels. It had waited. The evil thing had given them a head start because it wanted to chase. It wanted to hunt.

“RUN! RUN!!! RUN!!!!”

A hideous, ululating laugh echoed throughout the void as it shouted this, rising and falling in hysteric yips. Loud. Splintering. She could hear its long thundering gate stampeding down the grimy tunnel like the Minotaur from Daedalus’ labyrinth. Gaining on them, faster and faster. Hannah thought she felt a claw graze her cheek, missing by a hair, almost taking a swipe at Kenta, who was still knocked unconscious on her back, had she not moved her head.

They kept running. Hannah’s heart was pumping so hard she thought it would burst. Her breaths heaved like sobs. She had no idea where they were going. She looked left and right, saw an opening and swerved hard on her heels, thinking it would take them somewhere.

Except it didn’t.

They had reached a dead end.

Hannah spun around.

The curse was there, crouched on all fours, stalking menacingly towards them. Hiro let out a boyish scream, cowering behind Hannah. The curse laughed and in two short steps was right on top of them. She watched it raise a gangrenous hand.

“I’LL FEAST ON YOUR BONES!!”

Hannah shut her eyes and braced for the end, doing her best to shield Hiro and Kenta from being struck. The scream she’d been holding stayed in her mouth, until...

“Hey, ugly.”

Everyone, curse and human, stopped. Hannah’s heart leapt. She knew that voice. Her eyes cracked just a sliver to see Satoru illuminated in a scarlet haze. An orb of cursed energy swirled on the tip of his finger.

“Feast on this.”

He flicked the red orb at the curse like a yo-yo, watching it spin, obliterating the whole right half of the spirits’ face upon making contact. It’s skull busted open like a gourd, shards of broken cranium splitting outward and purple mist spraying. The curse howled, taking four shambling steps back.

Hannah did not waver. She hooked an arm around Hiro’s small torso, and with her other hand tightly gripped Kenta’s arms dangling around her neck, and ran like hell. The curse was too stunned by the blast to prevent her from joining the Six Eyes wielder on the other side

“Oi, kid,” Satoru said, stopping them. “Mind if I borrow that for a sec?”

He was gesturing to Stinging Nettle, still wedged in Hiro’s fist. By some miracle, he hadn’t dropped it. Hannah set the boy down. He looked warily at her for permission.

“It’s alright,” she said, nodding her head encouragingly. “This is my…friend I was talking to you about.”

Satoru gave her a confounded look. Friend? But kept quiet. No one noticed.

The boy turned around and gazed up at the Six Eyes wielder, mouth agape, like he was staring up at a great monument, and wordlessly held out the knife. Satoru smirked and casually took it from him. He liked it when kids looked at him that way; Totally awestruck. Gotta be the height.

He then motioned with his finger for Hannah to come over he whipped out her belongings from his pockets.

“Here.”

She took the jewelry and gloves and observed him placing the knife in his pocket, blade facing up so the steel poked out the back. He then snapped off his silver cufflinks and rolled up his sleeves and only then did she recall the conversation they had before becoming separated, how she had verbally lambasted him like a child. How trivial and immature it seemed then. Her eyes flitted back to the writhing curse and anxiously bit her lip.

“So, I’m guessing you have a plan?”

He glanced at her.

“Plan? There ain’t no plan."

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m serious, Satoru.”

“I know. So am I.”

The mixture of guilt and gladness was too great for her to withstand.

“Then is it too soon to offer an apology?”

“An apology?” he asked. “What for?”

“For how I behaved earlier. I wasn’t thinking. I shouldn’t have gotten — ”

Satoru stepped forward and gently cupped her cheek. “We can talk about it later, alright?”

“But…” She was going to argue, but with the look he was giving her she quickly conceded, leaning her cupped cheek into his palm. The action felt natural. “Alright, later then.”

“Cool.” He smiled and flitted his eyes at the little boy, asleep, hanging from Hannah’s shoulder like a baby orangutan. “By the way, those are some cute kids. Good job looking after them.”

She snorted a dry laugh. “Thanks.”

“Try not to disappear again.”

“I won’t,” she said. “Be careful.”

Satoru gave her a gratuitous smirk. “Always.” And turned around to finish the fight.

If this were a movie, the soundtrack would begin playing some epic Hans-Zimmer-style music; Neo fighting Agent Smith in the rain, or Luke Skywalker dueling Darth Vader for the last time. Usually there would be a bit of dialogue stippled in where the hero makes the villain aware of why they must die, and the villain laughs and explains why the hero is blindsighted by their sense of justice. If the script is written well, perhaps you’ll be made to sympathize with the villain. Gain a better understanding of their motives and why they chose to become evil in the first place, while still rooting for the hero to win. Maybe the villain sees the error of their ways and is given a chance to redeem themselves. Or perhaps in the heat of battle, the hero decides they’ve got it all wrong and the villain is right. Whatever happens, it always goes the same: Conflict. Climax. Resolution. They all lived happily ever after (for the most part). The end.

But curses didn’t come with Happy Ever Afters. They could not be reasoned with. They could not be redeemed. A curse only had the worst of intentions; one dimensional characters at their finest. For that, there could be no sympathy. Made them easier to kill. There was never any guilt associated when excorcizing a curse.

The curse in question was still reeling from the hit. Satoru rolled his shoulders and cracked his knuckles.

“What’s the matter, big guy? That all ya got?”

The curse narrowed its uninjured eyes at the sorcerer, snorting challengingly like a bull. Enraged, it began to quickly heal itself. The pulverized side of its face started to bubble and grow, metastasizing into new skeletal flesh, until the injuries were gone. The curse grinned triumphantly at being made whole again and was on Satoru in a flash, taking a swipe at him with its long, hooked claws. Satoru dodged. The curse swiped again. Once more, Satoru evaded the attack. “Come now. Surely you can do better than that?” he taunted, further prompting the curse to assail the sorcerer in a windmilled frenzy of swipes and jabs.

Satoru sidestepped them like they were aimed to miss, like it was all fun and games, going so far as to openly laugh and hurl insult after insult, dancing endless circles around his aggressor. He didn’t have to show off this much, of course. He’d been itching all night to pull the trigger, to throttle something. He could deliver the finishing blow at any time. But where’s the satisfaction in that? he thought. Patience was a skill like anything else. Let the curse have its moment. Let it stay ignorant of the fact it was nothing more than a puny, nonvenomous snake in the thralls of a mongoose.

Tired of slashing through air, the curse backed away and stretched out its bone-white hand. A swarm of glowing cursed energy gathered around it, but Satoru anticipated this move and smooshed his palms together in a hand sign, thus teleporting in front of the curse. He grabbed its stretched out wrist, bending it back only slightly, and said in a low voice.

“My turn.”

He leaned on the balls of his feet and yanked the curse's wrist all the way back, hearing the metacarpals fracture and break like tiny chicken bones. Pop, pop, pop. The spirit roiled. Satoru shifted on his back foot and swung it upwards in a roundhouse kick. The curse was sent flying. Sparks of blackened energy flashed and flickered, though it couldn’t be seen amidst the dark.

The curse slammed into the wall, but the fleshy tissue coating the tunnel absorbed most of the impact. If the surface were harder, it would’ve crushed the creature’s bones into silt powder and ruptured all its vital organs, to the extent it had any, leaving behind a huge crater. Perhaps that was by design; the Domain was meant to prohibit its prey’s movement like sticky insect tape and function as insulation when taking significant damage. The curse managed to pull itself up, and with wolverine agility lunged for Satoru, joining its clawed fingers together to form a spade and began slashing in a scythe-swinging motion. Satoru kept his hands in his pockets and whistled a carefree tune as the curse kept missing, coming up short like a drunk yokel playing a round of whack-a-mole. New dog. Same old stupid tricks.

“You’re not very bright, are you?” he mocked, looking unbothered. His dress shirt was still tucked and his pants were holeless and his shoes weren’t scuffed. This fight was a breeze. “Do something else. I’m getting bored.”

The curse snarled at the jujutsu sorcerer, low and feral, yellow eyes shining with immense hatred. Instead of taking another swipe at the sorcerer, it got on its hind legs and lunged, mouth wide open, incisors and canines serrated like daggers, going right for Satoru’s neck, but this time the sorcerer did not move. He stood his ground, hooking his index finger over his middle. He waited until the curse’s mouth was inches above his jugular before letting loose, and watched with great satisfaction as the curse’s teeth shattered into a million tiny pieces, falling out and splintering. Gouts of dark purple blood sprayed in every direction. Satoru’s Infinity had created an impenetrable shield, preventing the curse’s teeth from breaking through; no different than chomping into a slab of paved cement.

The cursed spirit cried, full-throated and agonized, stumbling backwards, clutching its newly broken jaw. Satoru seized its neck and forced it to the ground. He took Stinging Nettle from his back pocket and with hunting precision, plunged the blade directly into the middle of the curse’s wrist like a floorboard nail. Its high pitched shriek was nauseating. He then started throwing punch after swinging punch with inbred rapidity. Overhand. Uppercut. Left hook. Right hook. Not giving the curse the opportunity to fight back. Its face jerked forward and down and side to side. Using Infinity as a bludgeon, Satoru’s fist never made contact with the curse. His knuckles commenced beating and smashing. Then he hatched an idea.

“Let's count together, shall we?”

Keeping the curse pinned, Satoru stopped punching and jammed his three fingers straight into one of its four eye sockets, digging all the way through till he found the optic nerve connecting the eye to the brain. He pinched the nerves between his fingers and thumb and pulled. The curse thrashed and struggled, screaming absolute bloody murder, high and inarticulate. With enough persistence the eyeball came popping out, still latched to the optic nerve like an umbilical cord.

“That’s one,” Satoru declared. “How about two?”

The curse writhed and squirmed, trying all it could to break free. Satoru held on and once again burrowed his fingers into a second eye, feeling for the nerve fibers. The tantō lodged to the curse’s wrist would not give, leaving blisters and corroded skin; Stinging Nettle’s hidden ability. Living up to its name, whenever the blade came into contact with a cursed spirit, it would inflame and agitate the flesh like a nest of African killer bees. “NO, NO, NO,” the curse cried. It was becoming desperate. It couldn’t heal itself and fend off the sorcerer simultaneously. That expelled too much energy, so it did the next plausible thing. A wild animal caught in a trap will gnaw off its own leg to escape danger. With all its might, the curse jerked and tugged. Tendons and ligaments tore and dismembered like thin denim. The curse sacrificed its own hand as the steel sliced cleanly through the marrow. Satoru allowed the wraith to slide out from under him.

The curse was slower to get up than before, now missing all its front teeth, skull bashed empty. A smooshed eye dangled from its socket like a pendulum and its right hand was reduced to a stub of purple fodder, giving it a zombie-ish appearance. It attempted to regenerate the mangled hand, but Stinging Nettle’s venom blocked receptors from communicating with each other and the eye wouldn’t heal, nor the hand. That left it with no choice. The curse lifted its remaining hand and aimed it at the Six Eyes wielder. A vortex of dark, swirling purple charged inside its palm and released a pulsating jet of raw cursed energy. Satoru hooked his front fingers again and radiated Infinity for as far as it could go, blocking the tunnel. The beam hit in a miasma of heavy smoke and scorching heat. With no ventilation, the fumes waded and feted.

Silence hung in the air.

The whole world seemed to be holding its breath.

Then in a great heaping wind, the smoke transfigured from an ominous grey, to orange, to finally a violent scarlett hue, surging outwards in every direction. The air cleared. Like the eye of a hurricane, Satoru stood in the center, a black-red ball of energy spun on the tip of his finger, turning the scenery around them a clarion color. The only emotion reflected in his blue eyes was one of pure, unadulterated rage. This had gone on for long enough.

“Jutsushiki Hanten, Aka,” he said boldly, widening into a smirk. Sayonara, asshole.

The red ball of swirling positive energy became a harsh white light and then launched from the sorcerer’s finger like a speeding bullet, crackling, rippling, and in a great burst exited right through the curse’s chest, causing its whole upper body to rupture in a horrid explosion of blood and innards. The curse fell to the ground like a test dummy, gurgling and squelching. Obliterated. No more.

Satoru approached the excorcized spirit. He squatted down and began pilfering through the remains that were sizzling and evaporating into nonbeing, ignoring the smell. And after some more deliberation, he at last withdrew a puce colored finger from the corpse.

The long night was over.

The battle had been won.

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