#This is me casting as wide a net as possible I am This close to hitting the fucking tag limit

[shiroselia]

I have the fucking ao3 tags everything else will be covered by tumblr pinneds or arc summaries which I will have for each of the first chapters per arc I Swear to fucking god if this isn't enough I don't know WHAT FUCKING WILL-

[questforrp]

Would you like to RP?

I’m casting out my net searching for some RP partners! In the past, I was unfortunately unable to keep up with some of my RPs because of work but now I’m ✨ u n e m p l o y e d ✨ and looking to dedicate some of my newfound free time to getting my fix of some pairings! 💕

Cool Stuff About Me:

I live in the US on EST.

I am 26!

I only rp on discord.

My writing style is adv lit/novella. My responses often break discord character limit and I have nitro which offers a higher character limit.

I’m pretty open to a wide range of ideas yet I do love to lean a bit more slice-of-life and modern in role plays. I love angsty, plot heavy ideas as well– however, I do wish for a good bit of planning and deliberation beforehand!

DISCLAIMERS:

Writing style is very important to me. It is genuinely make or break for me. I am also a long time fanfic writer so I believe my writing is very thorough. I am not semi-lit whatsoever. My writing will be lengthy and thorough most often so I please ask that you do not interact with this post if you do not think you will be compatible with my writing style. (Samples will be included in this post!)

I am not too keen on most topics, themes, or tropes that fall under the umbrella term “Dead Dove”. Nothing involving minors and adults in sexual or romantic relationships. Not too keen on heavy violence, gore, or any type of ageplay.

Who I’m Looking For:

Someone who is 21+ (will settle for 18+)

Someone who writes third person

Someone who is able to write as close as possible to their character’s cannon personality (with some liberties, of course!)

Someone who is comfortable writing NSFW content (smut:plot usually ranges 40:60 but I’m willing to adjust)

Someone who writes adv-lit/novella (very important)

Parings legend:

Top

Bottom

Character I prefer to write**

No preference on writing

Pairings:

Gojo Satoru x Getou Suguru (t/b dynamic is unfortunately unshakeable on this one.)

Itadori Yuji** x Fushiguro Megumi

Erwin Smith** x Levi Ackerman

Laois Touden x Kabru

Uzumaki Naruto x Nara Shikamaru**

One More Special Thing With Only One Bullet Point:

I love omegaverse. The best way to catch me is to put an omegaverse idea on a hook and reel me in. Omegaverse for me includes potential/current/mentions of mpreg and I am also very fond of parental centered storylines. This includes planned pregnancies, accidental, past, etc.

Now that you’ve somehow gotten through all of that, please take note of all the information I’ve painstakingly laid out! I will not be negotiating things I have blatantly laid out but I am open to questions or concerns!

Now, without further ado, please give this post a like ❤️ or send me a dm 💬 if you’re interested in starting an rp with me!

As of August 8th, 2024, I am actively searching for partners!

Writing samples will be listed from here on so please enjoy and if ya see one that gets your attention, feel free to ask me about it and we might be able to turn it into an RP!

eruri (Erwin x Levi)

Erwin's tongue felt thick and tacky in his mouth, the cavern bone-dry and arid as soon as his ears processed the escort's siren call. He'd felt this shallow feeling of nerves before, the same storm in his gut that felt like he was a sailor stuck at sea- at the mercy of savage waves. It was only once, highly cherished and to never be forgotten. It had been when he'd first bedded his ex-wife in their early twenties. Anticipation teetered on a fine line that separated excitement and fear of the unknown.

He's technically never promised anyone anything. Not a stable life, not the best version of himself, nothing. Nor was it truly ever expected of him. Erwin was a cookie cutter man made to fill a specific role but in his thirty-four years of age, he still hasn't begun to figure out what or who had made him this way. Was he a prisoner of someone else's expectations or his own?

At that moment, he remembered Miche's warbled words. The man had had his arm thrown around Erwin's shoulder, face flushed and smelling of artisanal whiskies.

"You know," Miche had hiccupped. "You really hold yourself to some high standards, man."

Erwin had gently shouldered his friend's arm off of him, inspecting the glass in his hand to make sure it was actual water and not another troublesome liquor.

"It's to be expected of me." He'd said, flashing a small smile across the room to a philanthropist woman who was virtuous in name only.

Miche took a swallow of water, pulling a face as if he was disappointed in it. "By who?”

The question stumped Erwin, his mind only providing vague offerings of names and masses who only knew him by photo and net-worth.

"Look, you're a man just like the rest of us. Just because you're the brains of this whole thing doesn't mean you can't be a person. You can live a little."

Erwin was only a man. Destined to be an imperfect being. No amount of starving himself would make him more virtuous in some “God's” eyes.

He'll give himself away to hunger, if just for one night.

goge/satosugu (Gojo x Getou)

Suguru doesn’t know what requires his attention more; the drilling “bree bree”’s of the hot summer cicadas or the sharp pleasure of Satoru biting into his inner thigh as if the tender flesh would give away to the juicy, sweetness of a ripe apple.

This meetup was meant to go in a different direction but Suguru couldn’t resist the urge to taunt Satoru. Even though his eyes were covered by those abysmal bandages, Suguru could tell his six eyes were miserable underneath.

Sweet, sweet Satoru.

Satoru who treats a criminal like him so tenderly. Who wouldn’t want to poke a little fun at him?

“Mmnh-!” Suguru jerks, spine curving into an arch as Satoru bites particularly hard this time. Suguru flicks his gaze down where Satoru sits with his teeth still embedded in his skin, his cheek pushed into the firmness of the muscle. His eyes are lidded and lustful yet somehow wide and demanding.

Suguru breathes a husky chuckle. The strongest sorcerer in the world nipped him like a puppy demanding his attention.

Suguru shakes his arm free from one of the sleeves of his gojogesa and lets it fall into the pale tresses of Satoru’s hair.

He scratches his blunt nails along the scalp, eyes creasing with his grin as Satoru leans into the affection.

“Satoru,” he breathes as the man starts to lathe at the bite. “Good boys don’t bite, remember?” he teases.

[tunedtostatic]

Life update (not good)

And asking for help though I don't think anyone I know on Tumblr will be able to help with this, but I am trying to cast a wide net.

After my "there's a good chance things might actually be okay-adjacent soon but I'm scared it won't and hope it will" post I was really hoping I would have a "Things worked out!" update, but unfortunately this. Right now my life is not close to worst it's been (this year and last are still the best years in a long while!) but things have been fucked up.

I don't know how to say "i don't scare easy" without it sounding like country-western braggadocio but but the last few years have included living with creeps, living out of my car, various varyingly obnoxious brushes with death, and this is a more five-alarm fire level than average, even though still hopeful and still better than things are for many people for sure.

My internal project this past month and a half has been working on getting myself to 100% believe that it is 100% possible for me to die, which is not something I /didn't/ before - I wrote a will in 2019, and I had a long conversation with a friend in 2022 about the possibility of dying, obviously it's been on my mind - but i think it's just really hard for human beings (or at least me) to /really/ feel like it's possible to die in whatever dangerous situations we're in because we're just kind of neurologically wired for a certain amount of optimism in the face of death. At least the last few years it's not like there is one specific monster with big teeth chasing me, so it's easy to be like, well, statistically I /probably/ won't die from that or this or the other - like, if [medical stuff, living on the road, violence, hospital-acquired covid if I end up in hospital now that most hospitals aren't taking covid precautions here, &c] together means I have a 3x or 4x or 20x higher risk of dying than the average person in their late 20s, then people in our late twenties still don't die very often so mathematically that's still just multiplying three or four or twenty times /a really low number/ in the first place.

Statistically I will probably live...and neurologically I'm wired to say "I'm gonna make it :)"…but that means that this month and a half (have to do a double take because it's only been a month and a half! somehow!) I've had to make it a little internal project to continuously remind myself that it is 100% possible for me to die and I need to take everything that seriously, accordingly.

So many people, victim services nonprofits, &c over the years have come down so much more on the side of "Look into my eyes. You WILL get through this." than be worried about me, so I'm the one who has to take this on and remind myself it is 100% possible for me to die, so that I can take everything exactly as seriously as it needs to be taken, and also try to kick my own ass into hiding in shitty coping mechanisms less.

I have things SO much better than many people (!!) (which i know is a Thing Everyone Says out of free-floating guilt when they're struggling, but also, it's definitely true in this instance, and i don't want y'all to worry about me disproportionately). Things are bad but I also do know what I'm doing somewhat, after handling crises for so many years, and I also have alotalot of luck, which I am incredibly and unspeakably grateful for.

(Speaking of the positive, a lot of the current situation was kicked off by an especially scary medical scare last month that wrecked a lot of shit, and very luckily, most of the scariest medical stuff has been ruled out! That's one reason to be optimistic! Though I need to then bring it back to "Do /not/ let this let you take your eye off the ball, dude, everything else is still fucked up and it is still possible for you to die so Take This Seriously.")

The thing is, most of the pieces that made me hopeful at the beginning of last month when I was posting here are /still here/ ready to be put together. I had to drop out of my class this semester but I'm still in good standing in the certificate program I started and if I can fix the rest of my life enough I can start another class this summer. I /have/ a not super lucrative but decent and interesting paid side hustle, I have volunteering and helping others I can do, I have writing I can do, as long as I can get things a decent amount of unfucked. I am still jonesing to get on here and give y'all the Good Update.

I've avoided nonprofits and hotlines for the last year and a half, since my last go-round ended up doing more harm than good, but I sucked it up and told myself maybe it would be better this time and it was not, so this week I need to call another, unrelated victim services nonprofit to tell them the nonprofit I contacted last month did [deeply awful stuff] so that I can have a paper trail for /that/ so /that/ doesn't make the original problem worse, which is kind of the opposite of what one is looking for when one calls a nonprofit "for help."

(I don't want to dissuade people from seeking help from support services - I'm having mental images of someone reading this and not getting the help they need because I talked shit about nonprofits - but I guess I /would/ say, I /do/ want people to go in knowing that there are people who will help, and there are people who can't help (which depending on the context might be fair and there is nothing they can do), and there are also people who will demean you or not believe you or promise things they don't deliver. And I could write a post on how to try to stay safe when interfacing with nonprofits that supposedly represent "help" and "safety" and often do not, but sometimes absolutely do, but I am evidently still learning myself, so I will just say come in with backup plans, and if they hurt you it was not your fault.)

I spent my childhood in what I call "the casserole world" - culturally it was normal for friends or family to bring each other a casserole or help with errands when something hard happened and my specific context was functional enough that people would do that kind of thing. So!! Asking for help on here, if anyone has a spouse or friend or uncle who likes helping with logistical things like reading hundreds of dentist office reviews to find dentists who both accept Medicaid and are not evil incarnate or online discount clothing shopping - I don't really expect to find that kind of help here (back at it with the statistics), so in a way it's more that I don't want to cut myself off from the possibility. If 9 out of 10 times "just ask for help :)" isn't actually a thing, that means that you still need to, at least sometimes, cautiously ask the metaphorical tenth time when you find a place where that's not going to hurt someone else and it seems plausible. Like I said, I'm trying to cast a wide net!

(Editing for typoes and to add a Medicaid explanation for those not in the U.S.: Medicaid is free insurance e.g. free healthcare for people who make very little money, and it is free to the patient, but many doctors don't accept Medicaid, and the ones that do tend to be, uh. Bad. Or booked out for months, if they are not bad.)

[dragonprincequotesimadeup]

Question and answers from the Offical Q&A’s in The Dragon Prince Discord Server: miscellaneous / expanded universe

Q: “Are elf cultures inspired by real-world human cultures? The same for the human realms?”

EM: Elven and human cultures across Xadia come from a wide variety of inspiration. The human kingdoms probably have the most direct real-world influence, but even then it’s never singular or intended as a direct parallel. For Evenere, for example, we looked at cultures around the globe that had close connections to marshes, swamps, and rivers, such as the Cajun Bayou, the Amazon, the Malaysian wetlands, etc. We always try to cast a very wide net when seeking inspiration, then we use that insight as a springboard for discussion and creativity. For elves, we often look at their primal source and consider the traits and preferences it would naturally influence within the culture rather than looking at anything specific in the real-world (though that’s not to say it doesn’t come up as a source for inspiration, too). For example, while working on Skywing elves, we knew that their culture was more individualistic and nomadic, valuing freedom above all else. How Skywings live, dress, and express themselves is built based on that insight. When building these cultures out further or expanding on them—like for Tales of Xadia—we consider any already established lore and use that as guardrails for further research and brainstorming! As an example here, when we were developing Ponmalar (our Evenerian playable character from Tales of Xadia), one of the artists shared a concept for a massive bow for their weapon. Looking at the bow design and taking into account Evenere’s swampy environment and more insular community, our internal team discussed how this likely meant Ponmalar’s archery style was going to be sniper-like—where they would be lying in wait for hours for one precise shot vs. rapid firing any given target. So, we suggested increasing Ponmalar’s camouflage. I thought it would be cool if their cloak resembled Ashitaka’s from Princess Mononoke, but made from leaves and other foliage that would blend easily into a dark marshland.

Q: “Will we see the two rock guardians again? And are there any plans for more lore on Golems in Xadia in general?”

AE: Yes.

Q: “Will we ever see what a moonberry surprise looks like?”

AE: Oh yes. You will even see a new character based on Moonberry Surprise.

“Have there ever been Elf/Human hybrids? Is it possible?”

AE: Yes. Devon will probably remind me that acknowledging this will create all kinds of speculation and weirdness in the fandom, but it’s just the truth. I am not sure they would refer to themselves as “hybrids,” but we know what you mean.

Q: “Will the next seasons get a "The art of The Dragon Prince" book too? (asking for my collection)”

AE: I hope we will do something for the “Mystery of Aaravos” seasons…

EM: That's the goal!

Q: “will there be more books / graphic novels for the dragon prince in the future, and more about the two year gap between season 3 and 4?”

EM: Yes! We’ll have a new graphic novel, Puzzle House, and the next core novel, Book Three: Sun, coming out in late Summer / early Fall 2023. We're also in the process of kicking off the next graphic novel after Puzzle House, and all I can tell you is that it’s a wonderful story about family and building trust! And I'd love to cover different parts of the two year gap in some of the story-focused expansions we're planning. Devon and I have been discussing some really cool and interesting ideas that I'm excited to explore.

Q: “Is there any new merch coming out soon that you are able to share with us?”

EM: Yes! We just released some new t-shirt designs with Hot Topic and we have a brand new partnership with What's Your Passion (amazing jewelry) that I'm very excited about. So keep an eye out!

Q: “If the 63 episodes are set in stone, is there any chance a spinoff will be created to explore the stories not touched on in the show, e.g., TTM?”

AE: Xadia is big and wondrous, and there are eras with great stories we would love to tell…

DG: We’d love to write something about the Mage Wars someday!

Q: “will be a DVD and Blu Ray for The Dragon Prince?”

AE: I think so? What extras would you want to see on something like this? Or would you just be happy with a sweet box/packaging? In your mind, is there value to having a physical version of this, or would a digital product with some cool extras do the trick here?

[snow-and-saltea]

been thinking about some stuff. kinda have a direction of where i want to go, at least in terms of what i want to be able to do. i have a lot of things i want to do but i think it focuses to a point in singularity which is wanting to be resilient and being capable of solving problems. not others, but my own.

some stuff that's been on my mind:

+ being able to be Adult enough that i can help parent my nephew (he's extremely spoiled and my parents - his grandparents - don't know how to handle him other than placating him; they're also very tired and don't have much patience so they want him to stop tantrums immediately which means giving into what he wants)

+ manage anxiety attacks / spikes (get more useful coping skills) as an aside, i feel like its not that my feelings are the issue but the thoughts that come when the feelings arise are so chaotic and vaguely threateningly overwhelming that i cant make a sound judgement solely through my instincts or intuition anymore (when normally thats how i make decisions, and i have a lot of trust in myself when i do so. but i see that its not a useful mode of operation to have all the time)

+ get a sustainable income so i can make my own health decisions without guilt / fear and to pursue hobbies

+ rekindle my passion for writing and creating things. which i actually have been spending a lot of time doing because ive been listening to a lot of videos about d20 seasons and seeing so many cool people make cool stories and characters really inspired me a lot

+ overall i just want to be able to be hopeful without feeling like im just lying to myself. that is, i suppose, what coping is? or at least that's how i cope. lotsa lying to myself that its okay (while thinking that it won't) and everything is fine (while believing its not actually fine). i also rely a lot on hard stances to solidify my thoughts into a straight orderly line, which ends up becoming black and white thinking. and it narrows my vision a lot of the perspective of what is viable possibility that can be good / productive / useful and what am i "buying into" that i hazardously undermine the negative aspects of.

+ i guess i just want to slowly figure out who i am. i think i was in a rush to figure things out that made me cast a wide net of all variables and perspectives that shaped my experience and then putting a magnifying glass under each individual factor, but it made me lose the forest for the trees and it paralysed me because if i look too closely into things, ill realise the weight of it and its not something im equipped to handle right now atm. i think its just something i have to bookmark but not put away, like its something to come back to when im able. i dont have to figure it all out right now, especially when im not able to put things into the right contexts and perspectives yet

+ i want to have more energy for things i like. i left off a lot of things because i didnt have the energy for it bc i was so Afraid of not having enough energy to escape out of bad situations. but i think ill just have to try and trust my body that if im in true danger ill be able to handle it when the time comes.

sits down. thats all i have at the moment

[yki-dolls]

Since November is coming to a close I am starting to get into a festive mood! Do you know of any good holiday TMNT fanfics I could indulge in? I'm gonna ask around to a few people because I want to cast a wide net! 🎄

Hmm.

I am.. Possibly not the best person to ask for fic recs... My bookmarks tend to be incomprehensible even to me, BUT! I did find two I bookmarked which were tagged as Christmas which I enjoyed!

(I'm pretty sure there are more, since I definitely remember some (Mostly Leosagi) fics based around the Christmas aliens, but I can't find them 😔😔😔)

A Knock From Behind The Door

By: Ivelostcontrolofmylife

Leosagi, 2003

Incomplete, 2/3 chapters, still updating

My bookmark for this one includes the phrase "Leo's brothers being a collective menace" and I have been enjoying reading it recently, actually.

Looking For A Furr-Ever Home

By: The67ImpalaDragonChild

No ships, 2003

Complete, 4/4 chapters

Yeah my bookmark is just me going feral about dogs. I don't really remember what happened in it, since I read it a while ago but I am pretty sure I thought it was cute because my bookmark is an unholy mess of whatever stream of consciousness I had when I read it.

[cookinguptales]

OKAY so I got a request to explain what the heck I mean by "tarot night".

So, small bit of background. I'm a big ol' nerd who studied religion and folklore in college, and one of my focuses was material culture and the way we imbue everyday objects with spiritual meaning. So like... yes, I did a lot of work on tarot. History, ethnographic survey, etc. I am into tarot, but in the very nerdiest way possible.

(There's also some exvangelical baggage here where I wasn't even allowed to be in the same room as tarot cards until I was in COLLEGE so I guess there's probably some reclamation going on, too.)

Anyway. I'm into tarot. That said, I am not psychic and don't even really know if I believe in things like that. I do believe that mainstream tarot meanings are based on archetypal concepts that apply to all of us to some degree. It's kind of like cold reading; if you cast a wide enough net, you're sure to get some hits, psychologically speaking.

There's this saying -- if you really want to make a choice, flip a coin and then think about which outcome you were rooting for. Sometimes your subconscious already knows things that you haven't consciously decided on yet.

I believe that tarot can be useful if used the same way. If I do a reading for you based on the cards I draw, there's a pretty good chance that some part of what I say will apply to you somehow. See what your subconscious latches onto! It might help you think about some stuff that clearly you've been needing to think about! No psychic ability required!

So that's my philosophy on tarot cards and readings. With all that said, I have a pretty extensive collection of tarot decks! I love them! And every so often I pull them out and do a night where people can send me asks (anonymously or otherwise) and I'll do a tarot reading for them.

Last time, I decided to just do one deck each time, but I'll let you all vote on which one it is. Then once we've been going for a day-ish, I'll close down asks and make a post about the deck itself. Show off some of my favorite cards, talk about its inspirations, comparisons to the Rider-Smith-Waite tarot, etc. Some of you were only asking about readings in the first place to see the decks, so I think this is a good way to show them off.

Um... I think that's it? Let me know if you have any questions! And if you'd prefer not to see any of the readings, decks, or My Thoughts On Tarot, please block "#tarot shenanigans"!

[bokutosworld]

i won’t say (i’m in love) | kageyama t. 

pairing: kageyama tobio x gn!reader

wc: 1,935 words. fluff, high school crushes. hinata being a wingman lol. 

summary: an encounter at kageyama’s favorite spot in school leads him to meet someone that makes him feel all sorts of confusing feelings. 

a/n: so if it’s not yet obvious by the title, this was inspired by the song from hercules, i won’t say i’m in love :D this idea has been on my drafts for quite some time and i finally had the chance to work on it yaaay 

The first time Kageyama saw you, you were in front of the vending machine he frequented.

It was lunch break, and with ten minutes left before the next period, he figured he could get his favorite banana milk. He was walking towards the area that hid the machine away from prying and hungry eyes. Kageyama was confident that no one was familiar with its spot, especially since the machine always seemed to never go out of stock of his go-to drinks. But boy was he wrong.

The instant that he rounded the corner, he heard the recognizable thud of the drink box falling and someone getting it from its confines. He took a peek and saw a glimpse of a student cheerfully sticking the straw to the pack, humming as they take a sip of the milk. With a contented smile, the student walks off and passes him, giving a side glance and showing off a smirk to Kageyama.

How odd, the setter thought. Though he didn't dwell on it for any much longer, opting to get his own share of the milk. However, when he stood in front of the machine, his heart lurched upon seeing the red light that indicated not available. Kageyama's eyes shoot wide open and he whipped his head towards the direction you went, sending a glare to your retreating back as he realized you took the last milk. Oh, he was furious and poor Hinata was on the receiving end of that sour mood for the rest of the day.

Since that unfateful encounter, Kageyama has been noticing your presence everywhere. And it was an understatement to say that he didn't find you annoying. He remembers how you went under his nose to grab that last box of milk and it still infuriates him.

Whenever you walk by in the hallways, he can't help but follow you with a pointed look on his face. To any outsider, Kageyama looked as if he was sending curses towards your way, at least that was what Hinata thought. But actually, the setter was trying to figure out who you were and why he hadn't seen you in the campus before that day. One day, his curiosity finally got the best of him and he asked Hinata about his concern.

"Huh? What do you mean you don't know Y/N," the orange-haired boy replied. Hinata gave his friend a puzzled look, and as if the cogs in his mind stopped turning, a teasing grin made it way to his face. "Ah, so that's why you've been looking at them like a madman recently. You're so dumb, Kageyama! How could you not recognize them, they're literally our class president."

Hinata was right. That time, Kageyama was dumbfounded when they returned to the classroom and saw you chatting with your friends in the corner. He was entranced by you and the way you were laughing at one of the jokes that he hit his hip in the sharp edge of the desk. He shrieked, causing you to turn your head towards him with worry cast over your face.

It didn't hurt that bad. He was massaging that spot on his hip when you silently stalked towards him. You stood by his side, placing a hand on his back and asking if he was okay. It took all of Kageyama's willpower not to lose his composure in front of you, but Hinata caught on his actions. In that moment, an idea popped up in Shoyo's mind.

"Hey, Pres," he put an arm around Kageyama's shoulders, wiggling his eyebrows at him. "Can I ask you a favor? Can you bring my friend here to the clinic and get his injury checked out? I'm sure it's only minor but we can't be too sure." Kageyama angrily nudged Hinata, a string of stupid, you idiot falling on his lips.

"Yeah, no problem. Come on, Kageyama, let's get you to the nurse."

He was immediately flustered. Kageyama swears his face has never felt that hot when you took his shoulders and wrapped them on your own, acting as his crutch as the two of you walked to the clinic.

Kageyama cleared his throat, his eyes looking at anywhere but you. "H-hey, I'm not completely paralyzed. I can walk on my own."

You laughed, "It's fine. You can rely on me sometimes, you know. Besides, I don't want our star player sitting out of the games." A moment of silence clouds over the two of you on the rest of the way, but just before entering the clinic, you say, "I know you love volleyball. You should enjoy it without any injury."

Kageyama thinks that maybe you were much more than a milk thief after all.

Hinata doesn't know what happened after he sent you and Kageyama to the clinic. But he has a slight idea about what changed when he sees that his teammate has been talking more to you at every chance that he gets, walking by your desk and starting up conversations when he can.

In mornings, he notices that Kageyama always has two packs of milk in hand. And when you enter the room, he sees how he lights up, a shy smile forming on his face as you wave a hand and walk to his desk. He couldn't believe his own eyes when he watches Kageyama give you the other milk and he comes to a conclusion that he bought it just for you.

In gym class, Hinata observes the way Kageyama is extra pumped up to be against you in the 100m dash activity. He sees the playful taunts he sends your way and how you gladly react to them and indulge Kageyama in his competitiveness. He honestly thinks Kageyama won't let you off the hook but he's shocked, when just a few centimeters away from the finish line, he fakes a trip and falls down on the ground. You pass him in high spirits, jumping up and down as you exclaim that you won against the King of the Court. And Hinata knows that the normal Kageyama would be pouting and pissed off at his loss.

But this wasn't a normal Kageyama. He figures that this was a Kageyama in love. 

The pair was assigned to set up the net and prepare the gym before practice started. They were in the storage room getting the equipment when Hinata started teasing Kageyama about his little crush.

"I don't know what you are talking about." The taller boy strongly denied all the accusations that Hinata was throwing at him. "Just shut up and help me here."

Hinata chuckled like an evil villain and continued to spew obvious facts. "You give them milk every morning. You unconsciously make them laugh with your not so funny jokes. You look out for them during gym class more than their friends does. You make time before practice to say goodbye before they go home."

"So, what is your point?"

His friend smirked, "Kageyama Tobio, you have a crush."

Kageyama stood frozen, his hands went limp by his sides at the sudden realization. He was aware that in his recent interactions with you, he'd sometimes feel sick, like he'd get nervous around you, his breathing becomes unstable and his palms get sweaty.  He has noticed it himself how the surroundings would turn brighter whenever you walked in the hallways or how his own heart would beat twice as fast whenever you were approaching him in his desk.

He didn't know what that feeling was called. He didn't want to give it a name. But Hinata just had to point it out. Frustrated that his friend called him out on his adoration for you, Kageyama stayed silent and started playfully punching Hinata. The poor boy was only saved when they heard footsteps come in, and Kageyama was quick to push Hinata away and avoid your gaze when you walked in.

Hinata was grumbling as he walked out of the scene, leaving you two some time to figure out your mutual feelings.

Kageyama immediately crouched down and hid his face on his hands, making you laugh at his awkwardness. He inquired in a muffled voice, "How much of that did you hear?"

You answered him truthfully, narrating the moment when you stopped to hide behind the doors was when you heard Hinata starting to tease him about his little crush. "I'm honestly flattered, Kageyama. Though I am also surprised that Hinata was watching us closely. Or should I be creeped out?"

He glanced up at you, standing from his position and going off on a tangent about how he also thought that Hinata was looking into things too much. He complained that instead of thinking about his love life, Hinata could've used that time to practice his spikes and jumps.

At this point, Kageyama was rambling and though you thought it was endearing, you needed him to pause and breathe. "Can you stop talking for literally ten seconds?" This seemed to work as he shut up and straightened his back, his eyes gazing straight into yours.

Kageyama realized, "Why are you here anyway?"

You smiled and brought out something from your pocket. "I wanted to give this to you." It was the banana milk that he loves. "I saw that it was the last one in the vending machine. I figured you'd want to have it. Have a drink before or after practice."

You thought it wasn't humanly possible to see eyes literally sparkling, but Kageyama was giving you proof of that as he excitedly took the drink from your hands. The corners of his mouth turned upward in a soft smile, and you thought that was the prettiest that he has ever been. He remembers the moment he first saw you and laughs, "You didn't have any problems before taking the last available milk for yourself."

It was your turn to get shocked, hiding a blush behind your palms. You also recall that incident, "Stop, I didn't do that on purpose. Was it my fault that they haven't restocked on that day?”

Kageyama scoffed, "Yeah, right." You pouted, crossing your ams on your chest as you looked away from him. "Thank you."

He has put the straw in the opening of the pack, taking a sip of the milk when you asked him for the second time. "So, you like me, huh?" Kageyama almost choked on his drink, and you laughed before patting his back to help him calm down. Some liquid were spilling from his lips and you were quick to wipe it with your hand. The action was enough to render Kageyama speechless, so he put some distance between the two of you.

You were taking some tissue from your bag to give to Kageyama when you also shared a confession of your own. "If it makes you feel any better, I like you too."

"I'm free this weekend. If you want to take me out a date, you know my number." He looked at you expectantly, the words yes, I'd love to go out with you resting on the tips of his tongue but he wasn't able to let it out. Because in a few seconds, you boldly took a step closer and pressed your lips to his cheek. His face felt warm and his heart was beating like crazy.

"I'll be expecting your call, Tobio."

In that moment, the feelings that he kept on a tightly closed lid were overflowing and it was the affirmation that he needed to know that he was already in too deep for you.

[haikyuu-sickfics]

Akaashi sickfic where he’s rlly nauseous and there’s a lot of build up. He’s trying to keep it down as long as possibly but eventually loses its

> Maybe Akashi and Bokuto are at an amusement park and Keiji throws up there? You can choose why he does.

Glowing yellow reflected off the various metal surfaces at the amusement park, their bright shine blinding those without adequate eye protection. Keiji and Koutarou both fell into the unfortunate group with melting eyes, the former squinting while the latter looked ahead without twinge.

"What should we ride first?" Koutarou wondered outloud, his eyes shimmering with glee.

Keiji thought to himself for a moment, deciding which ride would be the best on his nervous stomach. A feeling akin to anxiety nestled deep into Keiji's core, it's root remained unknown. There were no triggers present, the crowd was light and and calm, the high tempo music providing the perfect upbeat atmosphere. Additonally, Keiji was not one to be afraid of roller coasters.

So why did his stomach flip every time he thought of riding one?

"Maybe the carousel," Keiji offered quietly, subconciously gravitating closer to Koutarou.

"Sounds good to me!" Koutarou grabbed Keiji's wrist and practically dragged him closer to their day of immature fun.

---

--

-

A cold breeze fluttered the area as the sun set over the horizon, gentle pink and orange hues blanketing the atmosphere of the park. Abandonded litter skittered the asphalt, the walkways significantly less crowded as guardians carried their sleeping kids out of the park. Keiji couldn't help but feel envious for those kids, their arms stretched lazily towards the grounds as they struggled to keep their eyes open.

Truth be told, Keiji felt drained. The awful feeling in his stomach had remained promiment, if not more so after a small greasy lunch. But he was almost done. He had made it through the day and Koutarou seemed to still be in high cheers.

"Akaashi!" Koutarou dragged out the 'a' in Keiji's surname, "can we please ride the ferris wheel?"

Keiji frowned, his right hand instinctively traveling towards his stomach.

"You said the last ride would be the last one. I'm tired and ready to go home."

"I only said that cause I wanted to get you to ride it! Plus," his voice got softer, "I really want to see the sunset from that high with you."

Closing his eyes and breathing deeply, Keiji turned towards the direction of the attraction. Koutarou's excitement was contagious, an aura of happiness radiated off his body as though he was the sun. Keiji liked being around him for this reason. Fueling the happiness was one of the most rewarding activities in the world-- and Keiji would do anything for the familiar splash of yellow to infect his grey world.

"Let's go," Keiji conceded softly, walking towards the queue enterance.

Koutarou smiled widely to himself before reclaiming his spot at Keiji's side. The latter bit back a frown. Anxiety gnawed away at their midsection, with more strength and warning than normal. Going on this last ride was a bad idea. But who could say no to the charming team captain?

Well, a lot of people- predominantly Keiji- but something about being away from their responsibilities made him want to shrug off his sensible side for a day. Take a walk on the wild side, so to speak.

Or maybe Koutarou's sheer volume of dumbass-ery was finally rubbing off on him.

No matter the cause, here the two sat. Across each other in a plastic car, still warm from the previous passengers, slowly rising into the daunting evening.

The movement, though far slower than the previous attractions, affected Keiji in an overpowering way. Perhaps it wasn't the movement at all. Maybe his luck had simply run out, leaving him white knuckling the edge of his seat and practically glaring ahead.

"Are you mad that I made you come on to this last ride?" Koutarou asked, guilt seeping into his tone.

Keiji shook his head.

"I don't..." Should Keiji be honest with his upperclassmen? Lying wouldn't get him far in this situation... But maybe he could will out for a few more minutes.

His stomach turned

Scratch that. There was no willing this out, "I haven't really been feeling that good today."

"Really? Why didn't you tell me? I mean- you did look kinda constipated all day but you usually have that stoic expression so I didn't think much of it. No offense. Well I just said that you look constipated all the time there's not really a way to not take offense to that but I didn't mean it in a bad way, you pull it off. Well that sounded weird, but I meant that in a totally normal way, in a 'you always look good' way not a 'I like it when you look constipated way'; because that would be weird wouldn't it? Or maybe I'm just overthinking it. Sometimes I surprise myself with how much I think. It's like. Woah. I've been holding this in my brain without even realizing it and boom it's all coming out at once. Did you know that competive art used to be in the olympics? What did they do? Isn't art relative based off perception? How could they judge what someone elses mind created? That's why I like volleyball. It's set in stone. I'm gonna be in the olympics, you know that? I dunno when but it will happen. And everyone will look on their screens and see how awesome I am and you'll be in the stands because you don't want to continue your carreer for SOME reason. But that's besides the point. Hey, are you listening?"

Keiji had his eyes closed. The nausea was becoming overwhelming. There was too much happening at once.

The smell of food, perfume and trash.

The jerking movement of the cart.

The incessant rambling of the person seated across from him.

Everything surrounding Keiji took on microscopic form and roiled ruthelessly inside his gut. His shoulders occasionally lurched with queasy hiccups- threatening to send everything overboard.

Why now?

Of all places why did Keiji's stomach chose to revolt at the very top of a ferris wheel, the setting sun casting a blindingly painful glare into his eyes.

Did he have a migraine? Maybe. He couldn't tell at this point. Keiji couldn't keep into account everything going wrong in his body at this point. The only thing he was concerned about was finding a way to leave this ride with as little mess as possible.

"Do you have a bag, Bokuto-san."

"A bug?"

"A bag."

"A rag?"

"A. Bag."

"A hag?"

Keiji muttered curses under his breath at the futility of trying to properly communicate with Koutarou.

"This is time sensitive," he took a deep breath, swallowing a bubble of air traveling up his throat, "I don't believe I'm going to make it off this ride without being sick. So I ask you once more. Do you have a B-A-G."

Koutarou's eyes widened as he began patting his shorts in search of a valid recepticle. There was a fish net (who knows why) but that wouldn't work for obvious reasons. The only other thing which came to mind to be of use was the suveneer sinsola hat he had purchased earlier in the day to protect his neck.

Hastily, he pulled the hat off his head- having a bit of struggle with the strings and his ears, but handing it to Keiji top-down in record time.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" Keji squinted his eyes at Koutarou.

"It's that or your lap."

"I'm not going to-"

Get sick in a hat- is what he was planning on saying. But the first gag took over his body before he had a chance to vocalize the rest of his sentence.

"Not going to... what?" Koutarou smirked, finding humor in the situation.

Keiji hiccuped over the hat, averting his eyes from Koutarou and clenching his jaw in embarrassment and annoyance.

Just as their cart jerked to a top at the peak of the ride, Keiji's stomach squeezed. It was a sensation stronger than the tugs he had felt throughout the day. This time, a hot sense of urgency burned the back of his mouth and gripped his esophogus.

Coughing, his body instinctually tried to dislodge the psycological ball in his throat. In response, his stomach contents finally pushed it's way up and out of his mouth in one large wave.

A strange sense of relief came with the awful act- as if the tension which had been slowly building up finally broke. He closed his eyes and allowed the conflicting feeling to overcome him.

Spitting residue acidic spit from his mouth, Keiji leaned back against the seat rest. Drying tears cooled around his eyes, which felt achingly tired. His thighs felt warm where he allowed hat to rest, lacking the energy to lift it fully up.

He barely registered the warm body sitting next to him, let alone the hand gently squeezing his shoulder.

"You okay now?" Koutarou asked gently, his breathy voice warming Keiji's ear.

"Mn-mn," Keiji slowly shook his head no, his eyes remaining shut and face tilted toward the sky.

"And you call ME reckless and stupid, how the turn tables twisted. Why didn't you say anything? Or like, I dunno, stayed home? I would've understood... Maybe."

"Please just be quiet," Keiji mumbled, "and keep rubbing my shoulder... It feels nice."

"I'll rub it until we get you in bed," Koutarou assured, adding his right hand to Keiji's right shoulder.

"Mm, thanks."

Keiji paused.

"And sorry about the hat."

[bestworstcase]

farran rereads lost lagoon: chapters 3-4

- a shot-put ball, according to my cursory research, weighs in the neighborhood of 6-16 pounds. leila howland expects me to believe that princess “hoisted an adult woman 70 ft into the air on the daily with nothing but a pulley and raw upper body strength” rapunzel has a hard time picking up a shot.

anyways

- rapunzel thinks about how she used to talk to herself in her tower when she was isolated (and lonely) but stopped once she came to corona, and this girl looked like she was talking to herself, and it gave rapunzel this weird sense of familiarity! now what in the world could that mean? its so subtle i can’t quite put my finger on it.

again, romance novel.

less sardonically - i will say that tts cass has never struck me as an especially lonely person. yes, rapunzel is quite possibly her first ever close friend, but cass also appears to be on pleasant terms with her coworkers and has at least one or two friendships or mentor-type relationships among the guards (stan and pete). animals in tts are anthropomorphized enough to qualify as humans, and cassandra is unequivocally friends with owl and fidella. she is friendly if not friends with at least one coronan citizen (monty). she’s utterly unfazed by crowley’s crabbiness. she’s able to get along with the pub thugs. in vardaros she befriends vex with ease and makes herself right at home among the citizenry at large. there is zero friction between her and lance - at most she rolls her eyes when he’s being ridiculous. and out of the main cast, cassandra is the one who seems closest to varian in s1 - like, she has actual bonding moments with him. 

THE POINT BEING, cassandra may not have a lot of close friends, but she is nevertheless personable and demonstrates the ability to adapt herself to suit a variety of social environments. maybe i’m projecting here - i have very few close offline friends because my preference for in-person socialization is for it to be very casual - but taken together this doesn’t scream ‘lonely person’ to me. it instead says ‘person who finds social fulfillment in a wide net of friendly acquaintanceships’ and possibly also ‘person who finds close, emotionally intimate relationships worthwhile but very demanding to maintain, and so seldom or never seeks them out.’

this, absolutely, a very subjective reading of her character - it is just as plausible for cass to be someone who is socially competent but feels inwardly unfulfilled until rapunzel comes along. but even in that reading, this implication that cassandra is as deeply lonely, as thoroughly isolated in corona as rapunzel was in her tower is baldly absurd.

- i think i will have more thoughts about how arianna is characterized and the relationship she and rapunzel have with each other later in the story. for now it feels rather mechanical, and like arianna exists in the story to facilitate cassunzel happening.

- cassandra comes across to me like she has an anxiety disorder written by someone who doesn’t quite know how to convey how that feels? she catastrophizes: what if rapunzel thinks cass attacked her? will she get in trouble? but then she stops to make snide comments about rapunzel’s security detail ‘[falling] down on the job’ and concludes with an impressive amount of certainty that rapunzel isn’t going to make a big deal of it, after all. that… isn’t how anxiety works?

then, immediately, she finds a note from her father scolding her for slacking off—making it clear that she is indeed in trouble, like she feared—and her response is to scoff and throw it away. zero concern about being in trouble. zero worry about the consequences she might face for refusing the pointed “offer” of being rapunzel’s lady-in-waiting. like… this isn’t anxiety. i’m positive it’s meant to convey anxiety, but it comes across as cassandra just being… melodramatic and rude and grumpy. like a teenager. it’s unpleasant. and it bears very little resemblance to tts cass, who expresses a clear and consistent anxiety regarding the security of her job and the looming threat of a convent.

- secondly: “Friedborg reported that you missed your afternoon duties AGAIN. Please be advised that this is unacceptable. The queen is looking for a lady-in-waiting to serve Princess Rapunzel. It would be a great opportunity for you, and you must show the queen how prepared you are to train her in the ways of the court.” i am 100% convinced that howland thought cass was rapunzel’s age or younger. if friedborg is effectively cassandra’s direct supervisor, and she is reporting absences to cassandra’s father instead of addressing this with cassandra directly, the only explanation that makes sense is that cassandra is not of legal age.

- “Ladies don’t wield weapons, lead military strategy meetings, or race on horseback. Ladies do needlework, flower arranging, and hairstyling.”

sighs.

i am not going to argue that corona, in any incarnation, isn’t culturally sexist. it is. there are no women in the guard, no women in trades, no female business owners in the vein of monty or xavier or feldspar. besides rapunzel and arianna - who as the monarch’s spouse has very little in the way of actual political power - there are no women in the upper echelons of the government. besides cassandra, the only gnc women around are criminals. cass is denied even a chance to join the guard for no evident reason, even though her father allows eugene - a man he openly despises - to take the tests and then begrudgingly hires him when he passes. no one sees an issue with this, even though cassandra is demonstrably overqualified.

however.

howland makes this cultural sexism explicit text, and she does so in such a way that it implies something pretty horrifying about the already pretty horrifying corona-saporia unification backstory.

i am talking, of course, about general shampanier. you know, the female saporian general whom herz der sonne married when the two kingdoms were unified. the female saporian general who personally dueled der sonne for hours, according to under raps. the female saporian general who, forget military strategy meetings, led an entire goddamn army. i will accept the possibility that shampanier did not ride horses, because rapunzel’s return suggests that saporians have some sort of cultural objection to that. but this book predates rapunzel’s return by a large margin, and it isn’t canon anyway, so odds are the general shampanier of this story rode a warhorse at some point or another in her illustrious career of being the general of an army!!!

this woman - general shampanier - became the queen, the wife of arguably corona’s most historically important king, at a defining moment in coronan political and cultural history. tts and lost lagoon would both have us believe that this was a romantic, peaceful union between two people and two nations, but a few hundred years later - this. ladies don’t fight. ladies don’t belong in the war tent. ladies don’t ride horses. cass takes these things for granted as facts of life. but general shampanier did all of those things, and she did them extremely well, and she became corona’s queen.

WHAT HAPPENED?! WHAT HAPPENED TO SHAMPANIER’S LEGACY?

how did corona go from a warrior-queen to this, in just a few hundred years? the most plausible answer is that the background radiation of sexism and, perhaps, anti-saporian bias was powerful enough to unravel any cultural impact she may have otherwise had, deep enough to render her an outlier, an aberration, an exception to the rule that women do not act like that.

even arguing here that ‘lady’ specifically means ‘noblewoman’ doesn’t add up - because, again, general shampanier became THE QUEEN. you don’t get more noblewoman than that!

it feels unfair to judge this book with details added in season 3—such as the fact that shampanier is evidently not buried with herz der sonne—but this total lack of a cultural impact from general shampanier, queen of corona, feels very telling even without taking those tidbits of extra-textual information into consideration.

and good god, saporia hasn’t even properly entered the narrative yet! this is only the tip of the proverbial iceberg!

*deep breath*

moving. on.

- continuing the theme of cass being a child larping as a guard recruit: she has a closetful of weapons which she maintains to the exacting standards of the handbook, but skips out on her job to “train” in secret because evidently she’ll do ANYTHING to get on the guard except, you know, demonstrate a modicum of responsibility with the job she has now.

- moreover while i think cartography is a neat hobby for cassandra to have, it… doesn’t make a lot of sense if it’s part of some nebulous plan to ~prove herself worthy~ of being on the guard. like, cartography straight up isn’t a relevant skill, and while knowing the countryside could certainly be helpful for guard work in the event a criminal goes to ground in the wilderness, it’s like… it’s like if i applied for my current job, which is in software/tech support, by focusing an intensive amount of energy on teaching myself spanish. fluency in spanish is a useful skill and one that i could turn into an asset within the bounds of my current job, and it might be the deciding factor in me getting hired over someone else with equivalent experience and skill in computing and tech support (which is what the job involves) because, yes, some of our clients are ESL spanish-speakers. but it’s—there’s a disconnect. if i were in a tight competition to get this job i would be pouring my time into sharpening my programming skill and polishing up a portfolio of relevant work. i wouldn’t be devoting hours upon hours to learning spanish. right?

on the other hand—if cartography is a hobby cassandra is passionate about, and she’s 16 or 17 or 18 and she really likes the idea of being on the guard and really feels like she can do it and is bored with her dumb teenager job and desperate to get her dad to make her a guard without actually grasping what being a guard entails or the kind of work it involves or what she actually, realistically needs to do to have a shot, then… yeah, skipping work to play pretend with her weapons and convincing herself that her favorite hobby is totally going to prove to her dad that she’s ready to be a guard!!! makes perfect sense. it’s no different from tts varian tunnel visioning so hard on this fantasy of ‘i’ll surprise my whole village with hot running water and then my dad will be proud of me!!!’ that he neglects basic safety measures and accidentally blows the whole system up. it’s not realistic. it’s a fantasy. it’s play.

- the only time cassandra brings up eugene’s criminal past in tts is to mock him for being a loser. like. literally. the plot of fitzherbert pi kicks off when she calls him a “two-bit hood” and then when he fires back that flynn rider was a LEGEND!!! she fires back “key word being was. and… what is it you do now?” and that’s the only time she brings it up. granted this is 6-7 months into their relationship but… still, frankly i never got the impression that “former thief” was anywhere close to the top of cassandra’s list of reasons for hating eugene. he’s just a dick. she doesn’t like him because he’s a huge selfish jerk and she warms up to him after her starts behaving better.

- rapunzel goes to the ty lee school of flirting. just… laugh really hard at everything your crush says even if it’s not funny.

- despite my… intense and rapidly growing dislike for how cassandra is characterized in this book, her experiencing an actual physical reaction when rapunzel enters her space without permission is good. it’s about the boundaries. it has always been about the boundaries, and rapunzel crossing them, and the intractable messiness that arises from that.

- in fact: how many times does rapunzel cross boundaries in just this one little scene? oh, let me count the ways!

1 - when cassandra goes to shut the door, rapunzel ducks under her arm to enter the room. (eugene attempts to enter as well, but cass succeeds in blocking him.)

2 - missing or ignoring cassandra’s first “go away” hint about only playing individual sports.

3 - missing or ignoring cassandra’s second “go away” hint (“I let the silence get awkward.”)

4 - arranging cassandra’s invitation to the feast of elodie the great with the captain beforehand, so cass can’t use him as an excuse to decline.

5 - missing or ignoring cassandra’s obvious discomfort with this news, taking cassandra’s attendance at the feast as a done deal, and skipping straight to asking cassandra to sit next to her.

6 - in response to cassandra’s very diplomatic signal of not wanting to do that (“I sit wherever I’m assigned”), she declares that she’ll make sure cassandra is assigned to sit next to her.

7 - touching without permission, which makes cassandra flinch.

all of which results in cassandra making what she considers to be a “tactical surrender.” and then shutting and locking her door, because she feels so rattled. as i recall, lagoon is actually a lot mellower on the boundary violations front - and rapunzel actually learns better over the course of the story, which is probably the biggest reason that lost lagoon is not canon and cannot be canon to tts - but it feels worth writing this sort of thing out because, well. it is one of the dead horses i keep clobbering.

[mr-entj]

Career 102: Getting a job you have no experience in

Combined with the following asks:

Hey Mr ENTJ. Do you have advice on how to move from academia into industry for someone who has only research experience? Only a CV and not a resume? Thank you!

How do you spin skills from one industry to be applicable to another? I'm a theater and English major (yes, I know) and it's been difficult finding work lately, because I am stuck living in a state where there are little jobs for that. I've worked on films, weddings, as a curator guide at a museum, and have my AA. I've had good interview after good interview, and have been outright told at three different places that I was a perfect fit. And then they went with someone else. Any advice?

Hi Mr. ENTJ I love your blog, is a great source of information for me so thanks for that! I have a question if you don’t mind. What kind of advice would you give to a graduate student who has not worked on their field during college and now is looking for a job? I’m a Business major but I’m currently working as a language teacher at a private institute (it started as a part-time job) My salary’s really good, however I’d like to start working in business but I have no experience on that :( thnks!

Hi there! I've read some of your advice to other askers and find what you say very perceptive and realistic. I'd like to ask your opinion. I have Bachelors and Masters degrees in the life sciences. I worked in academia for 2 years but my field lacked funding so I left. I have no commercial experience.I have problems getting a job because of this and most companies' resistance to hiring nonpractical grads. I want to go into consulting which is more flexible with degrees. What would you advise?

Hi mr entj! This may be a bit of a stupid question but what should I do if I can't find the job in a field(actually sub-field of a field) that I'm aiming for? I'm looking to be a concept artist but I can't seem to find any such jobs that don't require atleast a year of experience and since I'm a fresher I don't have that. In my country, there is also not a tradition of getting small student jobs so I don't have that experience either. Help me with some tips please.

Related answers:

Resume and Cover Letter Guide

Job Hunting 101

Top 3 job hunting mistakes college students make

Tips on transitioning from school to the workplace

Job interview tips

To break into a field that you have no experience in, translate the experiences in your current career into the “language” of your target career. The ultimate goal is this: make it as easy as possible for the hiring manager (and recruiter) to understand your background. People are lazy, they aren’t going to waste their time performing mental gymnastics to figure out how your obscure experience applies to their available job-- if they can’t figure it out-- your resume goes into the rejection pile. Make it easy for them.

To do that, see below.

Step 1: Collect multiple job descriptions of similar roles 

The goal is to source as many overlapping skills as possible for the same role so that you can update your resume to reflect them. To illustrate this, let’s say you’re currently a school teacher but your goal is to become a Communications Manager for a tech company. What kind of skills are tech companies looking for in Communications Managers? A simple search on LinkedIn for “communications manager” yields 42,000 results:

You don’t need to read all 42,000 job descriptions, but pick 4-5 that interest you from top companies (i.e. Lyft, Twitter, Facebook, Google) of similar nature. Top companies are leaders of the pack; their job descriptions are reliably the ones that other lower tier companies will copy.

Step 2: Identify key themes

All job descriptions that aren’t scams will have sections called “roles/responsibilities” and “minimum qualifications” with detailed bullet points describing what they’re looking for in the ideal candidate. As an example, I’ll use the Lyft “Internal Communications Manager” job description above and a “Communications Manager” job from Twitter to identify the key themes.

Lyft - Internal Communications Manager

Responsibilities

Work closely with and influence key company leadership to develop and disseminate their important messages to team members, including aligning the team on our strategy, goals, and priorities (Key theme: Communication)

Own strategy and results for keeping all relevant team members informed on important org news and updates in a timely and engaging manner.  (Key theme: Stakeholder management)

Provide strategic, direct hands-on support to key senior leaders  (Key theme: Project management)

Proactively identify new opportunities and develop new programs to continually up level our internal communications program  (Key theme: Analysis)

Successfully collaborate with cross-functional partners to execute on a comprehensive plan for seamless communications.  (Key theme: Collaboration)

Maintain the Lyft voice across all communications, written and verbal, and across company leadership (Key theme: Branding)

Keep Lyft fun!  (Key theme: Culture fit)

Twitter - Communications Manager

Roles And Responsibilities

Coordinate with various Twitter teams on product launches, announcements, issues and other news  (Key theme: Project management)

Craft communications materials with a high degree of consistency, conviction, and strong tone of voice (e.g. messaging docs, communications plans, blog posts, statements, Tweets)  (Key theme: Communication)

Drive proactive, creative storytelling around our products and the people who build them across a range of media, both traditional and non-traditional (press, podcasts, speaking engagements, video, etc.)  (Key theme: Communication)

Help the team establish and maintain relationships with reporters nationally and globally.  (Key theme: Stakeholder management)

Manage a high-volume of incoming queries from media covering product matters, and be able to consult and drive towards decision-making on press response during high-pressure scenarios  (Key theme: Project management)

Serve as a company spokesperson in the U.S. and in other markets.  (Key theme: Branding)

Draft, manage through reviews, and upload blog posts and Tweets for announcements and updates  (Key theme: Communication)

Track press coverage for key announcements; identify and correct inaccuracies in stories  (Key theme: Analysis)

Support team to drive proactive stories in global, local and industry-focused publications  (Key theme: Project management)

You’ll notice that the same key themes will emerge for similar roles. Extract these key themes and copy and paste them into your resume. Move to step 3. 

Step 3: Translate your experience and achievements to map to these key themes

From the Lyft and Twitter Communications Manager job descriptions above, we have the following 7 key themes:

Communication: Writing, editing, speaking, etc.

Stakeholder management: How to be organized and manage large groups of people of different levels and backgrounds

Project management: How to be organized and adaptable to support senior leaders with whatever they need done

Analysis: How to be a critical thinker who can spot better ways to do things (AKA performance/process improvement)

Collaboration: How to achieve success with people from different backgrounds

Branding: How to write in the company’s voice or a voice not your own

Culture fit: You need to jive with the company’s organizational culture

As a school teacher, you may not have the exact experience required but you’ve definitely done work that maps to these key themes. Use the verbiage from the job descriptions to write new bullet points for your resume:

(Key theme: Communication): Crafted and distributed weekly internal communications to 500+ students on academic updates, key event announcements, and other news in collaboration with administrative staff

(Key theme: Communication): Managed a high volume of inquiries from parents and administrative staff on the academic performance of 30+ students, provided updates and resolved concerns resulting in strong performance ratings

(Key themes: Stakeholder management + project management): Collaborated closely with senior leadership and a team of parents, educators, and volunteers to fund, launch, and manage the school’s $400,000 music program resulting in new extracurricular opportunities for 40+ students

(Key theme: Analysis): Led strategic initiative to improve academic curriculum and identified new teaching methodologies for 20 ESL (English Second Language) students resulting in an 15% increase in annual graduation rates

It won’t be a perfect fit, you will still get a lot of rejections, but your profile and background are much easier to understand to someone hiring for a communication manager role than it was before. Use your new resume as a script for the job interview to explain your experience as it relates to the role they’re hiring for.

Key Takeaways

Brand yourself for the role you want, not the role you have. Your resume and LinkedIn should contain a description of the role you’re aiming for and what skills/experience you bring to the table. If you’re currently a school teacher who wants to become a Communications Manager, then brand yourself as a “Communications leader with expertise in education, project management, and collaboration with people of various backgrounds.” This also makes it easier for recruiters to find you online because if they’re hiring for a Communications Manager, they will not be searching for a school teacher, they’ll be searching for key words related to that specific role.

Apply everywhere. You’re going to get rejected, a lot, it’s part of the process and you’re an underdog so don’t take it personally. Job hunting is a numbers game, always cast a wide net.

Progress is better than perfection. If your goal is to become a Communications Manager for the United States White House but you’re currently a school teacher, then the odds are you won’t immediately get hired by the White House. The goal here is to first break into the industry and work your way up. Accept the role that you want in a company that may not be your first choice because progress is better than perfection. Once you accumulate achievements in this role, other more reputable companies will be willing to take a chance on you.

Networking is everything. This is why human connections are the most powerful-- resumes can score interviews, but relationships build careers because hiring is about trust. If people don’t know you and your experience doesn’t inspire a ton of confidence or trust, they won’t extend an offer and commit to a legally binding employment agreement. To build that trust, use university career offices, professional networking events, internet job sites, forums, and other venues to engage and meet people. Socialization leads to trust which leads to opportunities.

[arrow-guy]

Author and Auror (2/??)

Synopsis: Eleanore Vaughan has never been one for the spotlight. Her cousin, Rosaline, is the one best suited to the limelight, and is happier for the attention. Though Nora is most comfortable tucked away in her book shop, what happens when Grindelwald’s sudden takeover flips her world upside-down and thrusts her into the inner circle?

A/N: Alright, here we are with chapter two, more exciting stuff happening and a little more angst and all kinds of nonsense. As soon as this chapter is through, we’re out of canon material and it’s entirely from my brain meats, with help from @thorne93 ​.  Again, I literally haven’t seen Crimes of Grindelwald since it was in theaters, so this will not be fully accurate. Anyway, have fun!

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong​

Previously, with Rosaline…

Pairing: Theseus ScamanderxOFC

Word Count:  3.8k

Warnings: Fire, kidnapping, angst

Part 1

We appear in a cramped living room and immediately fall away from one another. Jacob and Tina situate the now unconscious man on the chair and ottoman. He begins to convulse and Newt looks over him with renewed interest. He instructs Jacob to grab a pair of tweezers, declaring a sort of parasite has found a host in our newest hostage. Newt pulls it from his eye and hands the tweezers off to Jacob. I take them from him and search for a jar in which to put the parasite. With the man settled, Rosaline and Newt drop down into Newt’s suitcase to take care of the zouwu. I poke at the wards around the home and am surprised to find them to be significantly stronger than expected.

I lean against the wall and cast a Tempus charm before waving it away and taking in the substantial number of jars lining two floor to ceiling shelving units.

“How do you know Newt?” Tina asks.

Jacob looks between the two of us and presses his lips together. “I’m gonna go look around. See if there’s some food or something.”

I nod. “Be careful. We don’t know who’s home this is.”

“Yeah, sure,” he answers, already halfway up the stairs. “What other trouble could I get myself into?”

I laugh and turn back to Tina. “I went to Hogwarts with his brother and then worked with him at the ministry for a while before opening my bookstore. I ran into Newt while I was on holiday one year and he needed help with an aged porlock. Poor thing could barely walk and it absolutely hated Newt. I was wearing a sweater my mother knitted me with a horse on it, and porlocks love horses, so it calmed down enough for Newt to handle it. I worked with him on and off for a couple years after that.”

“And your sister-”

“Cousin. Rosaline.”

She nods once. “Cousin. How does she know him?”

“They graduated together. She’s been his assistant for nearly six years now.”

I watch as her hands bunch up the legs of her trousers. I tilt my head to the side, but she doesn’t seem to notice. She clears her throat. “Why did you leave the ministry?”

“Because being my own boss was much more appealing than being someone’s secretary.” I lift my chin and loosen my tie. “Newt tells me you’re an auror.”

Her brow furrows. “Did he just tell everyone he knows about me?”

“His circle of friends is very small,” I say. “News travels fast.”

“How much do you know about me, then?” she asks.

I shrug. “Enough.”

The case swings open and Newt climbs out and offers Rosaline a hand. They talk in hushed tones, their heads pushed together. Newt says something and Rosaline shrugs and offers a counterpoint. Newt shakes his head, his lips pursing. I watch Tina eye them and press my lips together. A loud thud startles Rosaline into pulling away from Newt and I narrow my eyes as Tina’s shoulders visibly relax.

“What was that?” Rosaline asks.

“Jacob probably got into something.” I meet Tina’s eyes. “Tina. We should go check on him.”

She nods slowly and pulls herself away from the couch. She heads up and I follow along behind. Rosaline shoots me a questioning look and I look very pointedly at Newt and make a shooing motion. She swallows and nods. I give her a thumbs up and hustle to catch up with Tina.

I find Jacob on the floor, caught in a net. Tina crouches beside him, wand out.

“What the hell happened?” I ask.

“I saw this ball thing on the desk. I swear it looked like a regular ball of string, but then I touched it and now I can’t feel my legs.”

“Didn’t I tell you to be careful?”

“To be perfectly fair to you, I probably wasn’t listening very closely.”

“Circe, it’s like wrangling crups,” I mutter.

“I got no clue what that means, but I’m gonna agree with you.”

I laugh and search for the loose thread that should unravel the trap. It’s right at the back of Jacob’s neck. I pull on the short section and the entire net comes apart. I snap my wrist and the string shivers before rolling back up into a ball.

“How’d you know what to look for?” Tina asks.

“It’s just a string trap. Dumbledore taught me how to make them when I was in my sixth year at Hogwarts.” I look over the ball of string, noting how frayed it appears to be, before setting it back on the desk. “But something tells me whoever taught him lives here.”

“We should go back downstairs,” Tina says.

I nod and gesture for them to follow me, but not before telling Jacob not to touch anything else. I lead the way down and freeze when I hear Rosaline talking to Newt. Her voice waivers and my hand tightens on the railing.

“-I’ve seen your heart break before and I couldn’t do anything about it, even though desperately I wanted to. If you felt the same towards me, I’d think you would’ve said something before now. I don’t want to be a last resort. Just thought you should know how I feel.”

Jacob takes an extra step down and the stairs creak. Rosaline jerks her head up and I press my lips together and dip my head when she meets my eye. I shove my hands in my pockets and saunter the rest of the way down the stairs. Tina follows behind, her shoulders rigid, and Jacob carefully picks his way down the rest of the staircase. Once on the ground floor, a long silence stretches out between the group. It’s broken when Jacob coughs. My eyes flick to him and he pulls at this shirt collar.

“We should go to the Ministry,” Newt blurts out.

“I’ll go with you!” Tina and Rosaline say in unison.

Newt looks between me and the two of them and I shake my head.

“How about I divvy up the groups?” I suggest.

“Wha-” Tina starts, but I cut her off.

“Newt, Tina, and I will go to the Ministry. Rosaline and Jacob, you’ll stay here with the man from earlier.”

“What?! Why am I staying behind?” Rosaline is outraged.

I sigh softly. “Because you’re our best line of defense until the master of the house returns. Three of us is worth one of you.”

She tips her chin up and sets her jaw. “Can’t argue with you there.”

I deadpan. “Really?”

“Alright,” she snorts. “I’ll stay here.”

“Fantastic, thank you.”

Tina, Newt, and I gather together and apparate away from the living room. We land outside of the entrance to the French Ministry. The cage to the elevator closes around us and Newt pulls a phial from his breast pocket. He drops in a strand of hair and I bite the inside of my cheek.

“Polyjuice?” Tina questions.

“Just enough to get me inside,” he explains. “Sorry ahead of time, Nora.”

I shake my head and refuse to look at him as he tips the contents of the vial into his mouth. “It’s fine. Just don’t be surprised if I can’t make eye contact with you.”

“That’s fair.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tina asks.

“We’re getting into the Ministry, no questions asked. Anything else isn’t important,” I say.

We step off the elevator and I immediately grab Newt’s arm. He’s a good two inches taller now. Tina quickly falls in line beside us and we make our way to the archives as calmly and quickly as we possibly can.

“Who are you supposed to be?” Tina hisses.

“Theseus Scamander,” I answer.

“What?”

“You remember me saying my relationship with my brother is complicated?” Newt asks. Tina nods. “Well…”

I glance to my right and my blood runs cold. My hand tightens around Newt’s arm and I freeze where I stand. “Newt.” I hiss.

“What?”

“You two need to start walking.” I push him away from me and do the same to Tina. “Now.”

“I don’t understand,” he says. He’s shrunk again and his hair is going back to its original color and texture. I jerk my head to the right and his eyes follow. “Oh.”

Theseus stands a ways away, speaking closely with Leta. Alarms sound throughout the atrium and Newt scrambles away from me, dragging Tina along with him. The noise draws Theseus’ attention away from his fiance and, with all his looking around, his eyes land on me. He whispers something to Leta and glances around before striding over to me. I shove my hands into my pockets and my right hand closes around my wand, instantly calming the hammering of my heart.

“What are you doing here?” he hisses when he’s close enough to not raise his voice.

I shrug. “I heard there was a circus in town. When I got there, it was gone. I thought I might take a look at the Ministry archives while I was still here. I heard they’ve got a two hundred year old transfiguration text stored away somewhere.”

“Cut the nonsense, Nora.” He scowls at me, and I raise my eyebrows at him in surprise. “I should have known you would follow Newt here. You’ve always had a soft spot for him.”

“Ugh, please, Theseus,” I shake my head. “I thought you trusted me more than that!”

“Are you kidding me? I don’t have time for this.” He shakes his head and takes a step back. He moves like he’s going to go around me and I pull my wand from my pocket and point it at his chest. “What, are you going to stop me?”

“Depulso,” I flick my wand and he falls onto his back and slides across the marble floor. “Locomotor mortis.”

His legs snap together and his eyes go wide when I turn to run.

“I really am sorry, Theseus!” I call.

“GET BACK HERE!” he roars.

Instead, I turn on my heel and race off in the direction I sent Newt and Tina. I weave through slow moving, elderly ministry workers and my shoes fight to find purchase on the smooth flooring when I go around corners. When I see the woman tasked with looking after the genealogy records standing in front of the doors, I slowly creep back out of the room and search for a way over the top of the vault walls. There’s just the wrought iron ivy that climbs the walls around the circular room that leads up to the next floor.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I take a deep breath and make a break for the opposite side of the room. As soon as I have my hands in the Ivy above my head, I wedge my foot into a space and begin hauling myself up the wall. It’s not far to the top, but even then I have to scrabble to find a grip on the floor as my fingers begin to slip as soon as they touch the marble. When I can bring my other hand up to the railing of the next floor, I pull myself up and swing one leg over and drop to the marble as quietly as I can manage.

Leta Lestrange stands to my left, fully facing the archives. She hasn’t noticed me yet and I hold my breath, hoping to keep quiet for just a short while longer.

“Lestrange,” she murmurs.

Below, the shelves of family trees begin to shift, rising through the air, smoothly weaving through one another. The specific shelves holding the Lestrange documents come forward. Newt and Tina cling to the shelves for dear life and I can feel my eyes grow wide. Newt sees me and presses a finger to his lips, telling me to be quiet. I squint at him and shuffle closer to Leta.

“Hello, Newt,” Leta says.

“Hello, Leta,” Newt’s voice holds his usual timidness.

I stand up and brush my hands off on my pants and join the group. Newt climbs around the shelves and helps Tina over the railing before holding a hand out for Pickett to climb onto.

“Where’s your cousin, Vaughan?” Leta asks. “Doesn’t she follow Newt everywhere?”

I shrug. “We switch weeks sometimes.”

“Well, you came all this way for nothing,” Leta says, holding out a slip of paper to me. “My records are gone.”

I scan the text and hand it back to her, shaking my head. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Grindelwald took my family tree,” she sighs.

A great hiss pulls us away from the conversation. The woman from downstairs slinks towards us flanked by several charcoal colored matagot.

“What are those?!” Tina asks.

“They’re matagot,” Newt explains. “They won’t hurt us unless-”

There’s another hiss and Leta sends a stunner at the one closest to us. It splits into two and the rest of the pack launch themselves at us. I cast depulso, and push them back for a moment, allowing Newt time to release his newly befriended zouwu. It escapes from his case with a mighty roar and swipes at the matagot. They cling to its fur and tail, but it still allows us to climb onto its back.

“Where are we supposed to be going?” Newt asks.

“The Lestrange mausoleum,” Leta answers.

The zouwu skitters to a stop with the matagot still clinging to it’s fur. We slide down from it’s back and the zouwu shakes it’s entire body, dislodging the matagot. As soon as they hit the grass, they turn to house cats and scatter into the graveyard. Leta and I stand off to the side while Newt calms his new friend. I watch with a smile on my face as the Zouwu rubs up against him and he laughs and scratches it’s chin. Tina distracts it from Newt with the bell toy and manages to get the zouwu back into the case without any fuss.

We trudge through the rows of mausoleums to the looming structure of the Lestrange’s. I file in through the door behind Tina and Leta leads the way to the main chamber. When we arrive, there’s already two other people there. I recognize the young man as Credence from the sketches that Newt made after coming back from the states. The young woman beside him shivers from the cold that radiates from the solid marble from which the mausoleum is carved. Listening in on their conversation feels very much like an intrusion.

The man from the sewer appears from the mouth of the doorway, taking us all by surprise. I learn that his name is Yusuf. Leta’s half brother by way of her mother. His wand is pointed straight at Credence. He believes him to be Leta’s half brother by way of her father. I watch with horror as she sinks to her knees and opens her family tree. As she explains what happened to her real brother. As the flower that represents her chokes out the branch that supports her long dead baby brother, I feel tears prick at the corners of my eyes and I turn away, shaking my head. A doorway opens up at the other end of the room. I pull the others attention to it.

“We should go through,” I say. “Grindelwald is bound to be on the other side.”

“Are you mad?!” Leta hisses.

“No more than you,” I answer. “We came here to get in his way, didn’t we? It’s not as if we can do it from here.”

No one protests.

The hallway opens up into a large amphitheater. Hundreds of witches and wizards are gathered together. I catch sight of Rosaline and immediately split off from the others to get to her. I can hear Newt calling after me, but I ignore him in favor of getting closer to Rosaline. Someone grabs hold of my arm and drags me into one of the rows of people. I try to pry their hands away, but their grip tightens instead.

“It’s starting soon!” the young woman gripping my arm exclaims.

“What is?”

“Grindelwald himself will be addressing us!” she says, excitement dripping from every pore. “We are truly lucky to be witness to such a historic occasion.”

She only releases me when I take a seat beside her. I glance around the amphitheater, trying to find any familiar faces. Rosaline is still stuck between a pair of witches who lean forward in their seats. Two rows below her stands Jacob with a blonde woman, whom I assume to be Queenie, glued to his arm. Newt and Leta are nowhere to be found. Tina, who had been walking down one row over from me is completely gone from my sight.

The address starts and I quickly find myself focused on what’s being said. When Grindelwald begins showing the assembly his visions, I cover my face with my hands and shake my head. A ringing starts in my ears and when it goes away I pull my hands from my face when Grindelwald calls aurors down from the edge of the amphitheater. I catch sight of Theseus leading a group down one row and my hand immediately goes to my hip, searching for my wand. Other groups of aurors file through the crowd. A flash goes off across the room and a young woman falls limp. All hell breaks loose as Grindelwald creates a circle of blue fire and his followers lash out at the numbers of aurors before apparating away. The women who had blocked me in disappear and I bolt for Rosaline. She’s fighting off three wizards, each coming at her from a different side, and loosing. She barely manages to dodge a hex when I’m close enough to counter. I knock two back and send a slicing jinx at the one who’s left standing. He screeches and disapparates. As Rosaline prepares to go after the two wizards I’d managed to knock down, a witch hurls a particularly nasty jinx at us and we barely manage to throw up a protego before it hits. The witch grabs the two felled wizards and apparates away.

“FUCK,” I yell over the roar of the battle. “You alright?”

Rosaline nods. “Thanks for the save.”

“Good. We have to find Newt. Did you see where Jacob disappeared to?”

“I think Queenie dragged him off a ways. I’ll see if I can find them. You get to Newt and Theseus.”

I nod once and grab her face to press a quick kiss to her forehead and push her away. “Be careful, you hear me?”

She snorts. “What do you take me for? I’ll be fine.”

I grit my teeth and force myself to keep quiet.

We part ways and I head in the direction of the row I last saw Theseus in. He and Newt are trying to fight their way through the fire and making absolutely no headway. I race over and slide to a stop beside them to add my protego to theirs. One of Grindelwald’s followers skips through the fire ring to stand beside him and a wizard tries to do the same after hesitating only a second. He immediately begins to burn up and disappears altogether. My eyes go wide and I just barely manage to cast another protection charm before a tendril of fire manages to singe my trousers.

In the distance I can hear raised voices, arguing over something I can’t quite place.

“Where’s Leta?” I call to Theseus and Newt.

Newt points to the other side of Theseus. I can barely see her through the heat and the way Theseus’ suit jacket flaps in the air currents. I shoot glances over at the argument that’s taking place just a short ways away. Rosaline stands to the side of Jacob and Queenie. Queenie steps away from Jacob and walks through the fire. Grindelwald greets her with open arms and the grip I have on my wand tightens as I put as much energy into protection charms as I can possibly manage. Tendrils of fire go after the small number of aurors left and I see Credence walking towards the middle of the amphitheater. The young woman he was with grips his arm and pleads with him not to go. He looks pained as he pulls free of her grasp and walks through the fire. Grindelwald is pleased but turns his attention elsewhere when Theseus yells “NO” at someone. I tear my eyes away from Credence to see Leta walking towards the ring of fire. Grindelwald makes a remark that I can’t hear and Leta responds before stepping into the fire.

She turns back to Theseus and Newt and says, “I love you.”

She and Grindelwald raise their wands to one another, but Leta burns up in the fire with a gut-wrenching scream that lingers even after she’s gone. There’s no time to react because Grindelwald has set his sights on someone else.

“Ah, Ms. Vaughan,” he says, a sinister smile creeping across his face. “So kind of you to join the fun! I see you’ve survived the fire.”

Rosaline steps through the fire and my heart drops.

“We both have our secrets, Grindelwald.”

“Oh, trust me, my dear, I know.”

His hand flashes out and grabs her wrist, quickly pulling her against his chest. One arm wraps around her waist and he presses the fingers of his free hand to her forehead. Rosaline falls limp and he moves his mouth close to her ear.

Anger bubbles in my gut and I feel the air crackle around me. Magic courses down my arms and into the palms of my hands. I let loose a blood curdling scream and bring my hands together, releasing a massive burst of magic into the amphitheater. It doesn’t do anything to the fire and I can feel hot tears streak down my face as Grindelwald disappears with Rosaline. Newt wraps his arms around Theseus and I, and apparates outside the mausoleum.

A frail looking, white haired man greets us and gives us instructions for an incantation to stop the fire inside the mausoleum from spreading and destroying Paris. When he’s sure we understand his directions he tells us to form a circle around the mausoleum. I am on the side opposite Newt and Theseus with an auror on either side of me. I wipe away my still flowing tears and recite the spell and stab the tip of my wand into the soft soil under my feet. A great wall of light forms, stopping the movement of three dragons formed by the blue fire from spreading any further into the city. When the fire has dispersed, the spell flickers and fades away. I look out over the ruined graveyard, my chest heaving with the exertion from the spells. The realization of how many people we’ve lost washes over me and I clamp a hand over my mouth and fall to my knees. I kneel there, quietly sobbing and trying to reign in my emotions before someone finds me.

--------

Part 3

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this chapter, please reblog, comment, and/or shoot me ask! Feedback would be greatly appreciated!

[roseherondale]

Sidekick

Summary: Jace invites Kit to help him confront a warlock who may be planning to commit necromancy but Kit reveals too much.

Word Count: 3147

Warnings: N/A

Read it on AO3 here

The golden swirls of the portal disappeared around him and he looked around at the familiar library of the New York Institute where he spent more time than he would admit to anyone, curled up on the sofa reading and studying, surrounded by the books on the high shelves around the room. His gaze landed on Clary and Jace, a couple of metres in front of him, smiling widely. He moved forward, hugging Clary tightly. Her red hair was tied back in a ponytail, and she was wearing a band t-shirt for TMI: a band that her parabatai, Simon Lewis, had been in when he had lost his memories to the Greater Demon, Asmodeus. He had since quit, but it seemed that Clary had kept the merchandise; it was worn and frayed at the sleeves.

"Kit! It's so good to see you." He pulled back, grinning, and turned to Jace, who awkwardly squeezed his shoulder.

"It's good to see you too." He replied.

"Hey, Christopher." Despite being cousins, Jace had easily fallen into a big brother role regarding Kit, and his smile was warm and inviting, despite the gauche action. He was wearing a white t-shirt underneath a leather jacket, and jeans, which was his usual style.

"Kit. What did you need?" Jace ignored the remark about his name and gestured to the sofas in the centre of the room.

They sat down, and Clary and Jace exchanged a brief look from where they were sat opposite him when Jace spoke. "We know you don't have much experience in Downworlder politics, so we thought it would be fun for you to come with us whilst we scope out a potentially necromantic warlock."

Kit furrowed his eyebrows. "Potentially necromantic?"

"There have been rumours," Jace confirmed, "so we thought it best to check it out after everything that happened with Malcolm. So, what do you think? Are you in?"

"Sounds fun. When are we leaving?" Kit responded, trying to keep his face even so that they couldn't tell that he was worried about the necromantic part of their mission.

"About fifteen minutes, so we should go gear up." Jace said, and Kit subtly let out a breath he didn't realise he was holding.

When he returned, dressed in black gear, which he had to admit really suited him against his tan skin and golden hair, Clary was applying a rune to Jace's collarbone. He wasn't close enough to see the shape, but he watched as the inky black lines formed on his skin.

Noticing him enter, Clary smiled widely, but Kit didn't know why. "Ready?" He nodded.

She drew the rune for a portal in the air, and it formed once more, sending papers flying from one of the tables, and rustling the pages of open books beside them. Jace headed in first, then Kit, following a gesture from Clary, and she brought up the rear.

"Do you need any runes?" Jace asked when they arrived in a mundane street. Kit shook his head, staring around. On either side, townhouses reached the sky, and casted shadows so that the afternoon sun couldn't reach them. Kit shivered slightly. It didn't seem like a place where someone would commit necromancy; it was too normal.

"Are you sure we're in the right place?" Kit asked.

"We are," another voice confirmed, and Kit spun around to see Magnus Bane, dressed splendidly in a purple velvet jacket. "He has wards up."

Simon appeared from behind him, wearing a t-shirt that said 'may d4s be with you' and Kit couldn't help but chuckle at the pun. Simon winked at him, moving next to Clary and bumping his shoulder against hers, gently.

"Hey Mini-Jace." He waved and Kit pulled a face, but waved back at him, to Clary and Simon's giggles.

"Okay, so Kit and I will go in, scope out the area and call you in if there's any trouble." Jace said, crossing his arms.

"Sure." Clary shrugged, settling down on a wall to wait. Magnus pulled out his phone.

"I was just telling Simon about Max turning into a bat again yesterday. We had to catch him with a net; let me show you the video, biscuit." Despite wanting to see the video of Magnus and Alec catching their warlock son with a net, Kit turned away and followed Jace up the steps. He knocked on the door and stepped back, grinning at Kit, easily.

The door opened slightly, the chain still on, and a face appeared at the side. It was a middle aged man, dark skinned but looking normal for a warlock. Since Kit spent a lot of time with the extravagance of Magnus Bane, the green-skinned and horned Ragnor Shade, and the blue-skinned Catarina Loss, he frowned slightly.

"What do you want, Shadowhunters?" He asked, seeming frazzled.

"You're the warlock, Atlantes?" Jace asked, and he nodded sharply. "We'd like to come in and ask you some questions."

"Fine." He unlocked the chain and stood aside for them to come in. Kit immediately noticed a cat's tail behind him, flicking agitatedly. Well, that answered the unspoken question about his warlock mark. He was dressed casually, in sweatpants and a t-shirt; he clearly hadn't been expecting them.

"Jace Herondale; head of the New York Institute." He introduced himself, and Atlantes reluctantly shook his hand.

"You brought a child." He said, looking at Kit with disdain. Jace moved passed him, heading into the living room.

"Couldn't find a babysitter." Jace said, seriously. "Anyway, he's my sidekick."

"I am not your sidekick." Kit defended. "If anything, you're my sidekick."

Jace raised his eyebrows, then turned back to Atlantes, who had followed them in, and was now hurriedly tidying up the cramped space. "Well anyway, we're here because there have been rumours that you plan to commit necromancy."

He spluttered. "What? That's preposterous. Who's spreading rumours about me? It is Barnabas Hale?"

"It doesn't matter who it is. We just have to come and ask you some questions."

Kit zoned out from the conversation slightly and looked around the room. Atlantes had shuffled the papers into a messy pile, on the coffee table, but it was also littered with various jars filled with ingredients, and though Kit didn't recognise them, they were handily labelled. He turned away to a cabinet on the far side of the room and made his way over. Jace and Atlantes were arguing about the precedent that Shadowhunters had and whether they should be able to deal in warlock politics, so neither of them were paying Kit any attention.

The cabinet was glass, but there was a box inside, with unlit candles on either side, and a photograph of an old woman, also dark skinned with bright eyes and a warm smile. If the man was commiting necromancy, Kit suspected that he wanted to bring that woman back, and that her hair, blood and bone was stored in the box.

"Who's this woman?" Kit asked.

Atlantes smiled for the first time since they entered. "That's my dear mother."

"Is that who you're trying to bring back?" Jace asked.

"No, I'm not trying to bring anyone back and my mother is still with us." He sniffed, "I meet her every week for lunch." In that case, the warlock was very young; Kit had never imagined them as anything but ancient and wise.

He noticed a bag of white powder pushed behind a pile of books on the floor. Pulling it out, he placed it on top of the books.

"Is this chalk?" He asked.

"Yes." Atlantes said, glancing over, distractedly.

"What's it made of?" He questioned, knowing that chalk made from the powdered bones of a murder victim was one of the ingredients for the necromancy spell.

"I don't know; whatever chalk's made of." He turned to Jace. "The child is asking stupid questions." Jace glanced over Atlantes' shoulder and Kit gave him a pointed look.

Jace just shrugged. "He's not my child; I can't tell him what to do." Atlantes huffed, frustratedly.

"Is there anything else you need?" He asked.

"Yes, we need to do a thorough search of your property, but we can have a warlock do it if it's more comfortable for you." Jace said, ever the vision of diplomacy.

"You don't need to. I haven't committed any necromancy." He protested, his tail flicking back and forth.

"I'm sorry; I have to do my job." Kit didn't think that Jace sounded sorry at all; in fact he seemed amused at the annoyance the warlock was facing. The information incriminating him must have been reliable, as Kit had never seen Jace taunt an innocent person before. He supposed that it was Jace's way of telling him that he needed to find more evidence to rattle him.

Kit continued to walk around the room, this time feeling the eyes of the warlock on him. He picked up random items and turned them over in his hands, whilst he desperately searched for something else that could be used for necromancy. Kit would never have admitted out loud that there was something thrilling about the mission; trying to find a rogue necromancer whilst having dabbled in it himself. For once, he felt valuable and needed; he alone knew the ingredients for the spell. Only he could incriminate the man, and if he could stop someone from making the same mistake Ty did, he would.

He picked up a jar of ash and opened it to smell it. The familiar aroma of the incense from the heart of a volcano overcame his senses, and at once he was hit by the memory of being on the lakeside, the faint smell on the breeze.

"This is incense from the heart of a volcano." He said, towards the warlock.

Resembling a deer caught in headlights, he nodded, then quickly recovered. "It's good to make tea. It helps with colds and I've been feeling pretty run down lately."

"I don't know about that." Kit said, "but I know it's an ingredient for a necromancy spell."

Atlantes froze, his eyes fixed on Kit's face. He was convinced of his guilt now, and Kit had one more trick up his sleeve.

"What did you use as your object from another dimension?"

"What do you mean?" Atlantes asked, but his eyes were wide.

"Well, we used something from Thule, but I can't imagine it was easy to find something."

"Don't speak to me of that place." If it was possible, his eyes widened further, and he looked terrified.

Jace intervened. "So, what dimension did you use?"

He sighed. "Diyu."

"What's Diyu?" Kit asked, confused.

"It's a realm of Hell." He faced Atlantes, "I assume you went through when Magnus and Alec were closing the portals in Shanghai."

He sighed. "Yes."

Kit rolled his eyes and pulled out a sphere of blue mist from behind the sofa cushions. "It wouldn't have worked anyway; your catalyst is corrupted." He tossed it back down, avoiding Jace's eyes.

"You're an annoying child, but I'm curious as to how you know so much about necromancy." Atlantes said, surveying him closely.

"I read the list of ingredients from your pile of papers." Kit said and Jace laughed loudly.

"Come on then. It's off to the Silent City for you." Atlantes held his arms out and Jace handcuffed them.

"I can't believe you figured it out." He said, shaking his head, sadly.

"What do you mean? You had all the ingredients and the instructions all around the room." Kit said, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Still..." Atlantes said, trailing off.

Jace strolled over to the table. "Is this from the Black Volume of the Dead? How did you get this?"

"I don't have the book." He defended. "I was holidaying in LA; I like to go diving. I found a phone and I was curious as to who's it was so I could return it, but then I realised that the photo album was full of pictures of the book, so I kept it."

Kit felt the colour drain from his face, and he turned away so that Jace wouldn't notice. He had watched Ty throw it into the ocean and neither of them would have expected for it to end up in the wrong hands.

"That was a good strategy, Christopher." Jace praised, casually, and Kit tried to hide his smile.

"So, it turns out you actually are my sidekick." He joked. Jace glared at him, lightly, rolling his eyes.

"Go get the others." He ordered.

Kit headed to the door and poked his head out.

"Clary?" He called, and immediately the three of them stood and moved into his line of sight.

"You got him?" She asked and he nodded.

"Easy." He gloated. Magnus raised his eyebrows, but Simon looked impressed. They followed him into the living room, which was even more cramped with twice the amount of people.

"Good job." Simon said, taking the warlock from Jace. "Should we get him out of here?"

"Yeah, let's go now." With a brief kiss to Jace's lips, Clary turned and made a portal. "To the Silent City." She gave a little wave and disappeared into the portal, her hair bobbing in the ponytail. Simon shook his head fondly, and made to follow her, Atlantes restrained, though he was going easily, and he gave one last mournful look around his living room.

Right before they went through, Kit called "wait" and headed to the cabinet, taking out the photo of the warlock's mother and handing it to him.

"You should take this with you." He said.

"Thank you. You may have been annoying, but you're kind too." He surveyed him for a moment, as if he was shocked that one person could display more than one emotion, then gestured to Simon that he was ready to go through the portal. "Goodbye Jace Herondale and... Mini-Jace Herondale." They disappeared in one last swirl of gold, Simon's laugh trailing off into nothing.

"That was a nice thing you did." Magnus remarked.

"I felt bad for him." Kit said, shrugging. The truth was, the warlock had been out of his depth, just like he and Ty were, and he was just thankful that he could stop someone else from making the same mistake.

"Come on, Mini-Jace." Jace said, gesturing to the door. "Leave Magnus in peace whilst he collects everything we need." Turning back to Magnus, he lowered his voice and gestured to the table, "he had a copy of the Black Volume of the Dead, so we need to make sure that's the only version."

"Of course." Magnus said, gravely. "Though if he's given it to someone else, there may not be a chance of finding it. Either way, I'll get everything from the house and meet you outside."

Jace gently pushed past Kit and led the way outside, where he sat on the steps. Kit reluctantly followed and perched himself beside him; he knew what was coming next.

"When did you try to commit necromancy?" He asked, calmly, as if it were a simple matter of asking what the weather would be like or what they were having for dinner. For a moment, Kit just stared at him, and then he sighed.

"When I was in LA with Ty. We tried to bring Livvy back." Staring at the ground in front of him, he waited for Jace to respond.

"What went wrong?" Jace asked.

"The catalyst was corrupted; she came back as a ghost and now she's tied to Ty." He bit his lip and looked back up at him, "I tried to stop him. The whole time I didn't want to do it, but I didn't want Ty to do it alone and isolate himself from everyone, so I went along with it. I never thought he would get all the ingredients and then Shade refused to help us anymore and I thought he would give up. But then, he got his own catalyst and at the last second I had to at least try and stop him from doing it, but then we fought, and he did it anyway."

"Is that why you went to live with Tessa and Jem?" Kit nodded.

"I couldn't be there anymore." He didn't elaborate further, but he knew that Jace knew more than he let on.

"Who else knows?" Jace asked, curiously.

"Magnus. I think Jem and Tessa do; I kind of announced to Tessa that I hadn't committed any necromancy when she came to see me in the Silent City so, I think she's a little suspicious." He smiled, sheepishly, and Jace burst into laughter.

"Only you could do something like that." He remarked, between trying to catch his breath. When he recovered, he spoke seriously, "do you want to keep it a secret or can I tell Clary?"

"I don't mind you telling Clary, but can you please keep it between yourselves?" He asked, and Jace immediately nodded.

Before anything else could be said, Magnus appeared in the doorway. "I've collected everything now; let's get back."

There was a box marked 'important evidence' in capitals and glittery green pen, filled with papers, spell ingredients, and the box from the cabinet. With a wave of his hand, it disappeared, and Magnus turned back to them, forming a portal.

"He found Ty's phone." Kit said, and Magnus nodded.

"I know, I found it and I'll deal with it. After you, Mini-Jace." Magnus said, and Kit rolled his eyes, stepping through into the Institute library. Clary and Simon were waiting there, perched on a table beside the evidence and they waved at him. Jace and Magnus came through moments later.

"Well, I'm off to rescue my husband from our two little monsters." He said and headed out the door. Kit assumed he was heading to the office where Alec acted as the Consul. Since Idris had been taken over by the Cohort, he had set up a base in New York instead.

"Taki's for dinner?" Clary asked, wrapping her arms around Jace and he nodded, then pressed a kiss to his head. She pulled away, and she and Simon left, knowing everyone's favourite orders already.

Once the door closed behind them, Jace turned to Kit. "You did well today, Kit."

"What, no Christopher?" He asked, jokingly.

"Don't push it." Jace warned, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"Are you really okay with everything? You don't see me any differently?" Looking down at his shoes, he resigned himself for Jace's disapproval, but it never came.

"Of course not. I always knew you were loyal." He ruffled Kit's hair, affectionately, "like a puppy."

"Hey!" He dodged out the way and fixed his hair, smiling back at Jace as they made their way out of the library. Kit laughed, feeling a million times lighter now that he had someone to talk to about everything.

Thank you so much for reading - I hope you enjoyed it. And thank you for all your lovely comments, the likes and reblogs on my last two works. I wish I could reply to you all but I’m on a sideblog.

I came up with the idea, planned, wrote and posted this all in one day and it may be one of my favourite things that I’ve written... I hope you all liked it too xxx

[deery-fiction]

Something’s Changed (pt. 1)

Author’s note: Hey everybody! Deery here, with my first Jacksepticeye ego fanfic for you all! This is an AU the lovely @7spaceace7 helped me come up with! This is obviously just part one of a much longer series, so I hope you all enjoy and want to see more! This is a long one, so it’s going to go under the read more but I just want to mention that my ask box is open and I am accepting requests if any of you want to see more of my writing! Now, onto the fic!

TW: Blood mentions, minor violence

It was dark, cold, and snowy and Jackie Boman was only just getting off from work. As a comic book artist he usually worked from home and handled all necessary interactions with emails. So there should be no reason for him to be out in the cold at night for something job related, right? Wrong. See, being a comic artist isn’t as lucrative as some people might assume, and while it might be enough for the most part, Jackie wanted some extra money as a safety net should anything happen. Hence his current predicament. 

Normally, the owner of the small cafe that Jackie worked at, Seán, would help clean up and lock up the shop since he was usually there. However, Seán had something come up today, and since Jackie had worked at the little cafe for a couple of years now, he was the one entrusted to finish cleaning up and lock up. As it was a small business, there weren’t really many employees past Jackie and Seán, and the others that did work there had all already left at the end of their shifts. So that left Jackie to clean up by himself, which obviously meant it took him longer to clean up. By the time everything had been cleaned and put away, and Jackie ready to lock the doors, it was fairly late out. It didn’t help that with the winter months setting in, the sun had already long since set. 

Jackie turns away from ‘Top of the Mornin Cafe’ with a sigh, starting the trek home as he breathes out into his hands and rubs them together, trying to warm them. He needs to start remembering to bring his gloves with him, the brunette muses to himself, because while he was warm enough between the hoodie and beanie, his hands were ice cold. He was opting to walk because he honestly didn’t live that far from the cafe, and it seemed like a waste of gas to drive or call an uber, he can handle a little cold just fine. Jackie was glad he did because he began to hear angry shouting from the alley just ahead of him, and a quiet whimpering just beneath the hollering. The comic artist would be the first to admit that he couldn’t say no to someone in need, and had gotten into his fair share of fights because he just had to play the hero. Not because he was seeking any sort of recognition or praise for his actions, but because he genuinely wanted to help people. 

So when his ears picked up on the faint whimpering of distress that accompanied the shouting, Jackie knew he couldn’t just walk past without doing anything. Someone needed help! With that thought in mind, Jackie picked up his pace and turned into the alleyway, schooling his face into a stern glare which only strengthened once he took in the scene before him. There was a middle aged man screaming abuse at a figure huddled in the back corner of the alleyway, whom he couldn’t quite see clearly due to that darkness and the man standing between them. Whoever it was, they were clearly terrified as the man called them a ‘filthy mutt’ and went to kick them. Jackie knew he had to act quick before the asshole did any more damage, so he lunged forward, hoping to grab the guy before he landed the kick.

 “HEY ASSHOLE! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!” The comic artist shouted as he grasped the man by the shoulder and yanked him back, the man stumbling backwards as his balance was disrupted. Jackie quickly took the opportunity to situate himself between the asshole and the person, who on closer inspection was a smaller, more slim built man, curled into the corner. Jackie slipped into a low stance, feet shoulder width apart and his fists raised, heart racing in his chest. He really hoped this wouldn't come to a fight, but he was perfectly capable of fending the other man off if it did. Not to say that the older man didn’t have some muscle on him, but Jackie was pretty fit for a comic artist too, since he liked to keep in shape with his home gym. He just knew he wouldn’t hear the end of it from Henrik if he got into another fight. 

“What the fuck is it to you, kid? This is none of your business” The Asshole, as Jackie has officially dubbed him in his head, sneered once he regained his balance. The Asshole gave Jackie a glance over before snorting and rolling his eyes. “What, you gonna fight me because of a dumb mutt?”

“What is it to me?! Are you seriously going to say it’s none of my business while you torment some poor guy for no fucking reason?! The hell is wrong with you?” Jackie shoots back in disbelief, baffled that this guy seems to think that what he had been doing was perfectly acceptable. “While we’re on the topic of what the hell is wrong with you, why the hell are you calling this guy a mutt?? Not that this would be any better if he was a dog, because it wouldn’t be, but what the hell are you on about??” 

“Like I said, none of your fuckin business, but if you’re really gonna try and defend that thing-” The Asshole spits with venom, and Jackie could see the smaller guy flinch from the corner of his eye. “Then be my fuckin guest, I ain’t stickin around while you get your ass mauled.” The middle aged asshole spins around on his heel and stalks out of the alleyway, grumbling all the while. Jackie was glad that the confrontation hadn’t come to physical blows, but he also was extremely confused by what the guy meant by ‘get mauled’? The comic artist turned around, crouching down as he allowed his expression to soften with concern at the still whimpering man. He couldn’t quite make out his face, it was still very dark out and the baseball cap the other was wearing really didn’t do Jackie any favors in trying to make out what the guy looked like. The whimpering did sound oddly dog-like, but the guy was scared out of his wits and probably in pain, who was Jackie to judge?

“Hey, man, are you okay?” Jackie starts to say, expression soft as he reaches out to rest a hand on the guy’s arm, both to comfort and to help him. This turns out to be a bad move as it clearly startles him, the whimpering snapping into a snarl as the man whips his head up. All of the sudden, Jackie feels teeth far too big and sharp to belong to any regular human sink into his arm as he falls onto his back, the guy that he had thought needed saving on top of him, continuing to growl. He could feel his breath seize, chest stalling in startled fright. It only lasts a few moments, but Jackie would swear that the man’s eyes were glowing. They had to be for Jackie to see them so clearly because the man’s face was still cast in a partial shadow, even though his baseball cap had fallen to the ground with his lunge at the brunette. The only other things Jackie could make out were the man’s yellow-green hair and a blood soaked corner of the man’s mouth. 

Things were at a standstill, but it only lasted all of a couple of seconds before that punishing force clamping down on his forearm was being relinquished and the man was suddenly off of him. Jackie struggled to sit up, catching his breath from when it was knocked out of him as the other stumbles back, eyes wide and panicked. The next thing Jackie knows, the man lets out another whimper and bolts, shouting a stuttered apology and leaving his cap behind in his haste. 

Well… that certainly just happened.

The brunette just sits there, stunned for a moment, staring in the direction the other had run off before slowly getting to his feet. He shakes his head, trying to make sense of what just happened, glancing over at the baseball cap, one of only two things that proved the man had even been here. He notices that the word ‘Bro’ was emblazoned on the cap, and goes to reach for it with his right hand, wincing as the adrenaline slowly fades and he’s reminded of the pain in that arm. Jackie disregards the cap for a moment to focus on his arm instead. He can make out four distinct tears in the fabric, and consequently his arm, two on top and two on bottom, like puncture marks. Which would make sense, since he was just bitten, but this was way more damage then should have been possible. 

He grimaces, unsure of how he was going to explain this to well… anyone at this rate. In the end, he decides he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it and finally pushes to his feet, cradling his arm to his chest and biting his lip against the throbbing pain in the limb. Jackie knows he should probably head to the hospital or something, especially since he was bleeding a fair bit, but honestly? Jackie just wanted to go home, curl up in his nice, warm bed, and pretend this didn’t happen. He glances down once more at his arm before deciding he just needs to clean it up and it’ll be fine… Probably. At the very least until he gets home. With that, he resumes his journey home, though this time with truly no other soul out on the streets.

~~~Flash Forward~~~

Jackie closed his apartment door with a grimace, cradling his bleeding arm to his chest, second guessing his decision to go home instead of a hospital. His wallet really couldn’t handle the trip though, and the bite wasn’t that bad, right? Maybe he should get a second opinion… Henrik should still be up, but the man was probably busy at the hospital. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to send the man a text, ask him if he believes that he needs to go to the hospital. Maybe Henrik’ll see it during his lunch break or something? It’ll have to do, because Jackie was NOT going to the hospital unless he truly has to. He knows for certain that he’ll get his fair share of very creative German curses thrown his way for his idiocy, but he’s known the man for years, it wouldn’t be anything new to him. 

Jackie pushes off from where he was leaning against the front door to make his way to the bathroom. He should have a first aid kit (courtesy of zhe good doctah himself) in there, and he can wrap the wound up for now. The comic book artist winces as he pulls off the hoodie, hissing softly to himself as he tries to carefully pull the fabric from the wound. It’s not easy, what with the fabric being soaked in blood at this point and sticking to the bite, but he manages it eventually. Honestly, he’s just grateful that he runs warm enough that he can get away with wearing only a t-shirt under his hoodie despite the cold, because he would not want to have to repeat that with a long sleeve shirt. Jackie makes quick work of cleaning, disinfecting, and wrapping the wound, cursing under his breath all the while. Well, as quick as one can while using only his one, non dominant hand. He makes sure to fumble with his phone to take a picture of the bite before wrapping it, so he could send it in the text. Once that’s been taken care of, he packs away the first aid kit and tosses the hoodie in the trash. Between the tears in the fabric, the blood staining it, and his lack of ability in remedying either situation, Jackie knew that the hoodie wouldn’t be salvageable. At least it wasn’t one he really liked or anything. 

Suddenly, a bout of sudden exhaustion swept over the young artist and he stumbled. He knew he had been tired since he left the shop, and coming down from the adrenaline from earlier certainly hadn’t helped matters, but this truly felt like it came out of nowhere. The brunette shakes his head, trying to shrug it off for a few more moments. He shucks off his jeans and replaces them with more comfortable sweatpants before settling onto his bed, deciding that he wouldn’t bother with his shirt. It takes a few tries and a fair bit of fumbling but Jackie manages to shoot off a short text to Henrik about the weird encounter he had and ask what he should do with the picture attached. He doesn’t last much longer before the exhaustion is tugging on his eyelids like lead. As he settles into bed, waiting for a response from the doctor, Jackie slowly drifts to sleep.

[cryysiswritesthings]

Treasure in the Brine

Fandom: Inuyasha Rating: PG-13 / Teen and Up  Warning: Heavy petting Status: Work in Progress Pairing: KogKag Summary: "I'm still a sailor at heart. Your scales... they remind me of the ocean. Waves lapping at an empty shore." He wet his lips, drawn to the strings of misshapen pearls hanging around her neck. "Bits of treasure hidden in the depths, waiting to be claimed on the ocean floor."

Find it on: AO3

Series: Mermaid AU Tumblr Tags: #kogkag #inuyasha #mermaid au

Made Things

Mermaid Kagome

"You are really pretty. It's kind of ridiculous."

The mermaid laughed. The sound sang through his blood. "You're handsome enough, for a sailor. What are you doing out here? Don't you know the legends?"

"About mermaids and sirens singing sailors into the rocks? Yeah, I know." Kouga turned his head, tapping next to his ear canal. "Ear plugs. They're made from tree sap deep in the mainland. Lessens the effects your voices have on us."

"Is that so?" Her smile was sly but playful, pulling herself up to his level on the sides of his boat. "So if I sang you a tune, you could ignore me?"

"Oh I didn't say that." His smirk stretched wide. "I could deaf, blind, and dumb and I'd still be drawn to you. You're the perfect temptation."

The mermaid hummed, slipping back into the water. She didn't fully submerge, having crossed her arms over the edge to keep herself up. Her eyes seemed to dim in the sun, if only just. "Like every mermaid out there, huh?"

"Don't remember saying that either." Blue orbs caught his, suspicious and surprised. "Pretty sure 'you're the perfect temptation' is exactly what I said."

"So you did." His mermaid smiled again, fanged teeth biting her lip. "And why is that? The others are just as pretty as I am. More even, depending on the ones you're looking at."

Kouga's cheeks flushed, smirk softening to a bashful smile. "I'll tell you, but you'll laugh. It's silly."

That only seemed to make her more excited. "Tell me. Tell me tell me tell me."

The sun burnt sailor ducked his chin to his chest as he laughed. Looking up, he let his chin rest in his hand. "It's your coloring." Her snort was as cute as she was. "I mean it!"

The mermaid quirked a dark brow. "Black hair, pale skin?"

"No, not that." He nodded to the water behind her. "Your tail."

She blinked at him, stunned. "My tail?" She looked back, but Kouga chose to focus on the sun shining off her scales. They covered most of her upper torso, cresting just above the smooth curve of her breasts. They were iridescent shades of emerald green and black teal, speckled with flecks of bronze and gold. A combination of all his favorite things.

The mermaid was staring at him when he looked back to her face, biting her lip and clearly amused. He hadn't tried to hide his perusal of her, a fact she seemed to appreciate.

"Tell me sailor," she crooned, voice sweet as angels. "What is it you like so much about the color of my tail?"

"It suits you, for one." Kouga reached out, miming the movement of sliding his fingers over her sides without really touching her. He may have been weak to her music, but he wasn't that much of an idiot. "Help you blend in with your natural surroundings and all that."

She snorted, clearly displeased with his answer. Snickering, he gave her what she wanted instead. "I may not be a pirate, but I'm still a sailor at heart. Your scales... they remind me of the ocean. Waves lapping at an empty shore." He wet his lips, drawn to the strings of misshapen pearls hanging around her neck. "Bits of treasure hidden in the depths, waiting to claimed on the ocean floor. You're just..." his smile turned shy, thumb running over his mouth. "You're beautiful."

The longer he spoke, the rosier her cheeks became. His mermaid's earlier displeasure had faded to a soft wonder, lips parted in awe.

"I've... No sailor has ever described me that way before."

He huffed a breathless laugh, not bothering to change position when he realized how close they were. "Drag a lot of sailors down to the brine, do you?"

"Sometimes," she told him honestly, raising herself once more to his level. "Never for me though. The others always claim the sailors they want because of how lovely they are. For a mermaid I'm thought plain."

"To an idiot, maybe. You're not even close to 'plain.'" Kouga's voice softened the closer she came, his whole posture relaxing in her space. "You going to take me down there with you? A sailor all your own?"

His mermaid bit her lip, blue orbs tracking the laps of the waves against his boat. Nervous, she met his gaze. "I should, but I don't want to. I'm young in their eyes even though I'm past my 300th year. The others... They'll take one look at you and try to steal you away."

"And we wouldn't want that, would we?" His fingers itched, wanting to know the softness of her skin.

"No," her eyes shone a deep, sapphire blue. "No, we don't."

He had to swallow before he could speak again. "So what do we do? You swim your way, I sail mine?"

"Well... There is one thing we could do. If you wanted."

Surprised, he straightened. "Tell me? I'm listening."

His clear intent eased her. "Have you ever caught a mermaid?"

His mouth hung agape as he tried to adequately find a way to explain the impossibility of such a statement. Clearly the look on his face was more than a little stupid, if her laughter was any true indication. "That's... that's not possible. You can't catch a mermaid. They won't let you."

"Yes, that!" Hey eyes were bright, excited. "Think about what you just said. Say it again."

"You..." No, he still didn't understand. "You can't catch a mermaid."

"Why can't you? You just said it."

"You can't catch a mermaid because..." It hit him, and he was surprised at the realization. "You can't catch a mermaid because they won't let you."

"So," the word was drawn out, a teasing lit. "What if I let you?"

"You want me to catch you?" Bemused, he tilted his head. "And what am I supposed to do with a captive mermaid? I don't have a net big enough for a fish trap, let alone anything strong enough to hold you." He cast a brief nod to her tail. "And that's not exactly a pair of legs."

"I'll have human legs by the time we get back to land."

"Somehow, I don't believe you." He grinned when she smacked his chest, glad she understood his playfulness. "I mean, that's a lot of tail."

"And just think, you haven't even seen all of it."

"Can I? See all of it?" She looked surprised. "If that's not crossing some kind of line. I don't mean to offend."

She bit her lip on a smile, unendingly pleased. "You are very courteous, for a human male."

"You can thank my mother for that. She made it a point to beat some manners into my head when I was young."

"A wise woman, if there ever was one." His mermaid slipped back into the water while she clung to the sides, hiding all but her eyes from his view. "I will give you a trade. That is how humans do things, isn't it?"

"There's a bit more to it than that, but that's about the gist of it."

"Then we will trade!" The idea seemed to excite her. "I will let you see the rest of my tail, in exchange for your name."

Kouga tried to recall any legends he'd heard about sailors giving a mermaid their names. Thankfully, none immediately came to mind. "What will you do with my name, once you have it?"

"I'll call you by it, instead of calling you a 'silly man' in my head."

He snorted a laugh, and her grip tightened on his boat.

"So? Will you tell me your name?"

"I'll tell you," he dropped his hand from his chin, letting it hang between his legs. "But humans don't see underwater as well as mermaids do. I won't be able to appreciate your tail to its fullest extent."

"You let me worry about that. I'll make sure you see."

"It's Kouga then, miss maid," he finally told her, having come up with no reason to do otherwise. "A lowly sailor, tempted still by your beauty."

Her smile was pleased. With a quick push, she drew herself up again, meeting him face to face. The full length of her scaled torso was exposed to him, blue-black hair clinging to her shoulders. A band of shells kept wet bangs from falling in her face, sitting on his head like a crown.

"You'll have to lift me from the water," her voice woke him from his stupor, looking away from the drops of ocean water that slid enticingly over her scales. "I'm heavier than you think. But I won't let us tip over."

"R-right." He swallowed lightly, trying to focus on what she was saying. "Do I lift you by your arms then?"

"My arms?" She looked confused before she realized what he meant. "Oh, no, nothing like that. I'll put my arms around your neck, and you'll lift me from the water by my tail."

"By your tail. Right. So bridal style." Did bringing her into the boat count as carrying her over the threshold? He wasn't sure.

She didn't bother to let him finish his internal questions. One of her arms encircled his neck, and his body seemed to suddenly move on its own. Kouga had caught his fair share of large fish over the years, he knew how heavy they could be. But the boat was steady beneath his feet, as if he were standing on a shore.

His brain was probably screaming at him somewhere in the dark to be more cautious. No matter what she promised, the young woman in his arms was still a mermaid. Still a siren. And his foolish self was half leaning out of the boat to lift her over its edge.

His mermaid made no move to drag him beneath the surface. She only waited for him to adjust her in his grip, keeping a portion of her weight braced on the boat's side.

He resettled on the plank, pulling her to sit in his lap. He tried to be mindful of her large dorsal fin, smoothing it to the side so there would be no awkward weight on it. She curled into his chest to get comfortable, her fingers tangled in the strands of her pearls during his quiet perusal.

The full view of her tail was a gift to behold. She had five fins in total, each of a varying size. Her caudal fin was by far the largest, floating gently beneath the wave. Her pelvic fins sat parallel to the first dorsal, the one he'd moved for her comfort. The second dorsal sat just above the caudal peduncle. Each fin started as a bright yellow green where they met her scales, fading into dark sea foam.

But it was the colors of her scales themselves that repeatedly caught his attention. Near her caudal fin, floating just beneath the surface, the green of her scales was so dark they looked almost black, even in the sun. There was a patch of discolored scales there, bronze and gold that reminded him of treasure chests filled with gold. The green lightened then, covered by large patches of emerald-black scales and small scatterings of bronze and gold.

There were no words in any language he knew that would do her beautiful form justice.

"Like I said," his lips brushed over the crown of her head. The words didn't exist, but he would never let her think herself as anything less than perfect. "Exquisite."

He couldn't see her face, but he felt her smile against the warm skin of his neck. Mindful of her fins and gills, he let his fingers glide over the shimmering scales beneath them. Watching them sparkle, catching the light.

Her lips brushed the underside of his jaw, and he felt a rising heat bloom in his blood.

"So," carefully, he traced the edges of a pelvic fin. "What name am I to call my captive mermaid?"

"You'll have to give me one. Sailors always give mermaids their human names."

The thought bothered him for reasons he couldn't explain. "Do I need to? What about your real name?"

"You want to keep me, don't you?" Her nose brushed his, taloned fingers hovering a hair's breadth from his lips. "If you want to keep me, you have to give me a human name."

She was so close. Close enough to kiss. "What..." Kouga closed his eyes, trying to see through the fog in his head. "What happens if you change your mind? If you decide you want to go back?" Playing at capture was one thing. He didn't really want her trapped.

"I won't, silly man."

"But you might." He covered her hand with his, kissing the fingers backs. "I wouldn't want you unhappy."

"Please?" Her voice was a soft whisper, a quiet plea. She begged. "Please, give me a name?"

Every press of her cool body was making him burn. His arms were full of her, the weight of her filling his lap. She was right. there. And he was so, so tempted...

Her lips brushed his. A feather-light kiss.

He gave in.

"Ka-go-me."

He surged upwards, claiming her mouth with his. Tongues tangled and fought, his large hands encompassing her scaled back, her talons tearing holes where she gripped his shirt. Liquid fire boiled his blood, demanding more as he dominated their kiss. She was every temptation he was powerless to resist.

Her soft, feminine whimper was answered with a rumbling moan. He pulled her down with him to the bottom of his boat, spreading his legs to accommodate for the shift of their weight. The crux of where her tail and torso met settled over his hips, shifting glorious weight over his rapidly filling dick.

A heady groan burst from his lips, and it took her barely a moment to understand what caused it. Her smile was wicked, tail flexing with fluctuating pressure while she dove back into their kiss.

His every moan was interspersed with desperate curses and gasps of her new human name. Her answering keens were quiet hums against his lips that were slowly driving him to the brink.

He finally broke, pulling it lungfuls of salt-sea air. "You keep doing that and I'm going to make us tip."

Her giggle made him grin; he let his hands settle at her waist. "Would that really be so bad?"

Kouga lifted his head, trying to peer over the sides of boat. He would end up with permanent crick at this rate. "I don't know, you tell me."

"Weeell... maybe." Ceeding his point, she slid from her place between his legs and laid next to him on her side. Her fingers traced the lines of his face, eyes shining and light. "Kouga."

He answered her with a smile, slipping close to nip the edge of her lip. "Kagome."

He smirked when she giggled, stealing himself another kiss. The fire in his blood now glowed a warming ember. It let him savor this.

No one would ever believe him if he told the truth, but he could be selfish. He wouldn't tell; the less people knew, the better. They'd come up with something when they got back to shore. The real truth he would take to his grave.

That the only way a man caught a mermaid... was if she let you.

[calliope-love-corner]

Last Words

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

When the world began to shift, I felt it. We all did. The wide open sky began to twitch and writhe, and we all felt its agony as it all too suddenly lost its grip on the world. Blood-soaked, I remember looking up. Safe from harm in the web’s favor on my pilgrimage to hilltop road, I felt the change. The wasted world I wandered shifted, and I looked to the angry sky. I felt the end approaching. 

An enormous black mass of hair and spider- much bigger than it was in the old world- guided me to her. It had been guiding me since she left, searching for its other half. Looking for its core. It’s home. I knew there was a reason she had me hold the thing so long ago. 

It felt the change too. All at once, it started to squirm and shift like the beholding empty sky.

I saw the mountain up ahead. Up in the mist sat the old house. If the world was getting ready to change, I was running out of time. I was probably already too late. But I’ll be damned if I came all this way and didn’t at least try.

Every muscle ached. Despite my body’s protests, bat clutched tight in blistered hand, I broke into a run, pressing on up the rocks. Icy wind stung at my face and hands, my heart pounded, my lungs screamed out for mercy. The air felt like it was carrying me up the cliff with each strained step up.

A ribbon blew in the wind in the corner of my bleary eyes. Not a ribbon- a tape. I follow its line up, and watched it weave in and out and around and through the rocks.

A crash, an explosion, a gust of air threatening to knock me off my ascent. I held fast to the flying tape and the rock face and gave it a tug. It held. I tugged harder. It did not falter. I grit my teeth and use it to pull myself farther up and up and up the rocks.

Another crash. The mountain under me shifted. I let out a choked, terrified sob, and cast aside my bat. I look down for the first time, and suddenly, the ground is very, very far away. I watch it clatter down the rocks and disappear through the fog out of sight. How long had I been climbing for? Surely not long enough to be this high. 

I reach my free hand up and grasp at a net of tapes, tangling my raw and blistered fingers in them. I desperately claw forward, grappling for another grip, struggling for a foothold. On and on and up and up I push until the rock face has become a net of tape- a web. 

Higher and higher, faster and faster, tears roll down my red cheeks. I pull and step and climb in rhythm. I’m here, I think. Annabelle, I’m here. Please don’t go yet, I’m right here. 

The ground starts to even out. I pull myself up and over and take in a sharp breath of freezing cold thin air. I want so badly to lay down and breathe and just rest but I am running out of time. The spider on my shoulder urges me onward. I crawl to my feet, legs shaking and tripping over intricately woven nets of tape. I hold fast as the earth shakes again. Heart pounding, I call out to her. 

“Annabelle!” I cry. My voice does not echo, though it feels like it should. The webs of tape wind together to form a cavern around the skeleton of what once was hilltop road. My throat tightens as the air is blown from my aching lungs. I stifle another sob and press on.

I trudge through the cave as fast as I can, wind whipping through my hair, sticking with sweat and tears to my forehead and neck. As I am about to call out again, I see her. The cavern opens up into what once was a wooden room. There is no floor- only a swirling typhoon of wind and rain and tapes and everything and nothing all at once. A monster stares back at me from across the gorge, clinging comfortably but wearily to the web walls. A monster that looked like she could have once been the love of my life, with 8 gleaming black eyes and giant mandibles and sharp venomous fangs and 8 spindly legs that hung just over the black hole out of our world looked back at me, and in those eyes, I saw fear. For the first time ever, Annabelle Cane was afraid. Annabelle Cane did not know what would happen. She did not really ever know what came now. She did not know what came after her plan followed through. Annabelle Cane hesitated at the edge of reality because she was afraid. 

I couldn’t hold back. My legs shook for a moment before giving out and I fell to my knees, dry, aching sobs wracking my body. I reached out to her. 

“Annabelle, please-!” I plead over the deafening wind. “You don’t have to do this!” 

“Calliope…” I read her lips. The ground shook harder than ever as the pull towards the rift doubled in strength. I buried my hands in the webbing, holding strong. 

“Annabelle!” I cry out again, hot tears rolling down my face. My voice is hoarse.

Annabelle searches my hurting eyes, and realizes something she hadn’t accounted for. She travels with the fears out of the world, or she dies here- that she knows. But very suddenly, she comes to the realization that she does not want either. A year ago, she would have taken either option without hesitation if it meant the web’s plan came to fruition. But not now. Now, as she prepares herself for the end, staring into the glassy blue eyes of the only other person that loved her despite everything, who followed her to the ends of the earth at risk of themself and everything they cared for, who tried so hard to love her as a human being until even after the end of days, Annabelle Cane does not want to go. 

“Please, god, don’t go-!” My voice begins to falter, my desperate cries devolving into whimpers. “I need you, please, don’t go with them-”

Annabelle feels her arachnid throat tighten of its own accord. Different from when she would cry to get her way as a child, different than when she would tug at any pawn’s heartstrings with welled-up eyes and a breaking voice, Annabelle Cane began to cry. Her transformation reverses itself, monstrous legs receding into bulbous abdomen receding into a terrified woman who never asked for this. Her eyes and fangs and exoskeleton shift and reshape into a familiar, gorgeous, scared face. Once confident and sure, Annabelle nervously clings tight to her web. I watch her adjust her footing and back as far away from the rift as possible. She looks to me with wide pitch-black glassy eyes.

“I’m… scared.” She murmurs. 

“I know, god, I know-” I force out between sobs, a melancholic smile spread across my blood and tear-stained face. “I know you are. It’s gonna be okay.” 

“I… I’ll fall, Cal.” Annabelle says, louder this time. Her voice wavers. I crawl forward to the very edge of the landing. 

“I’ll catch you, I promise I will!” I reach my arm out against the hurricane of wind. “Please, jump, I’ll catch you- it’ll be alright!” 

Annabelle chances a shaky step closer to the ledge. 

“I’ll die anyway-” She says. “Cal, I don’t want to go, and I don’t want to die. I’m so scared.” 

I try and fail to hold back another sob. “I know you don’t. Annabelle, I promise, everything is going to be okay. Please, god, jump to me-!” I reach my arm out as far as it can go.

She takes another shaky step forward. 

“...promise?” 

“I promise!!” I call out. And like that, Annabelle jumps. The pull of the rift is strong. I grasp her hand tight and pull and pull and pull her up with my last bit of strength, I pull her up and over onto solid ground, grasping at her arms, her shirt, anything to get a strong grip so I don’t lose her. Not again. 

She rolls over to safety, and I hold her tight, sobbing into her arms. I feel her body shaking as she cries hard too. I grip at her white satin shirt now stained red with my dried blood as if letting go would lose her to me forever. 

“I’ll die without the web.” She says in my ear over the wind.

“Shut up. No you won’t.” I whine. I hold her tighter. She runs a hand through my matted, greasy hair, and holds my head tight to hers. It isn’t close enough.

“But… I get to say goodbye. And that’s enough for me, I think.” 

Somehow, I sob harder. I hate goodbyes. This one hurts more than any other, somehow. 

“No, no, no-” I urge. “No, please don’t die, I- I can’t do this without you. I can’t do anything without you, I need you-” 

Annabelle pets my head, and pulls away to look me in the eyes, despite my protests. She cradles my face. 

“You don’t, darling. You’re going to be just fine. When all of this is over, you’ll find the others, and life will go on.” 

I shake my head. She smiles at me, tears streaming down her cheeks. I can see in her eyes that she’s putting on a brave face for me. “It will. I love you, Cal, and… it’s the end, so I suppose now you know I really mean it. I’m so sorry you ever had to question that. You deserve assurance, and love, and safety, and all of the wonderful things the world has to offer, because- because you are wonderful, Cal, and-” 

Her façade starts to break. I know she means it. I know she always has. She’s so scared to die. 

“And you changed me. You made me better. You made me more human than I ever have been. God, just look at me. This is you. This is real, and human, and- and it’s love. I feel now because you loved me. I love you because you loved me. That is more than I could have ever wanted. This is my good end, Cal. You gave me a good ending. You made me something I can die proud of.”

I wrap my arms tight around her, refusing to let go for anything. The wind crescendos around us. It’s time. We both feel it.

“I’m not ready.” I bury my face in her neck.

“No one ever is.” 

I feel her lips press against my head, warm and safe and assuring. I drink her in. 

All at once, the sky shatters into nothing. The ground tears open and shakes and the web around us collapses. The great eyes weep cold, agonizing tears that fall heavy to the earth and quell the fire and flames. There is light- bright and hot and loud and cleansing, and I hold my lover tight one last time,

And then there is nothing.

>> Part 2

>> Part 3 (to be written)