#and got a bit lengthier than intended

[spacegay-official]

Pain For Pleasure

(aka "Din Djarin has a piercing kink send tweet")

So, this was initially supposed to be part of a lengthier headcanon post with more characters inspired entirely by the time I got my nips pierced in July, but I got carried away with Din's, then immediately forgot I had it in my google drive and found it a couple days ago, so... here we are.

Also, I know in that poll I posted the majority running as of right this second is green for Din's favorite color, but I went with red for the color of the beads on reader's piercings just because it felt right (and also it was in second place, so)

Pairing: Din Djarin x afab!reader (no pronouns/gendered terms used, but this is a very tit-centric fic)

Warnings: SMUT, this is pure self-indulgent PWP, nipple piercings, blindfolds bc Din, nipple play (sucking, nibbling, that kind of thing), unprotected PiV sex, creampie, talk of other (namely, genital) piercings, also this wasn't well proofread so there might be mistakes.

Words: ~1k

Din was out on a long hunt. You knew it was going to be a while, and while you usually go with him on these sorts of things, he insisted it was a one man job. So, you stayed with the ship, in the port city you’d landed in. But, sooner than later, you got bored.

So, you put the ship in lockdown and started walking around the city. There were plenty of sights to see, and plenty of things to do, but it was a piercing shop with beautiful jewelry displayed in the window that caught your eye. You went in, initially intending just to buy some jewelry from them, but it turns out they were having a special sale. That was all it took to get you to give into the impulse and just like that, you had your nipples pierced.

As you pondered your jewelry options, a thought crossed your mind--what would Din think? He loved your tits and did not hide that fact. You figured he wouldn’t mind the extra decoration. With him in mind, though, you picked out jewelry with red beads on the end. After the quick (and somewhat less painful than you were anticipating, but it still definitely hurt) procedure, you went back to the ship and admired the new piercings in the mirror for a bit. Yeah, he was definitely going to enjoy this.

Several days later, Din came back from his hunt, successful. He was clearly exhausted, though, taking a deep breath and leaning against the hull in the hold once the quarry was in carbonite and unable to cause any more issues. You smiled and approached him, glad you were currently wearing a thin shirt without a bra underneath.

“How’d it go?” you asked.

He turned his head and looked at you. “I’m glad I’m back,” he answered.

He went to turn his head back, but seemed to double-take. You grinned wider, then started walking backwards towards the bed you shared. You sat down on the edge of it, and pulled the material of your shirt more taught over your chest.

“See something you like?” you asked.

Din walked over to you, and immediately got on his knees between your legs. His hands smoothed up your sides under your shirt, lifting it. You took it off the rest of the way.

“Fuck,” Din breathed.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you teased.

“When did you get this done?” he asked.

“Couple days after you left. I got bored,” you answered, shrugging a little.

Din’s hands moved to hold your tits, then run his thumb over your nipples and the jewelry. You sighed at the sensation.

“So fucking good to me,” he mumbled, his hands gliding down your body again, this time to the waistband of your pants. He practically tore them off, then began backing you further onto the bed. “Probably hurt, huh? Going through that just to look pretty for me.” 

He reached for something in one of the storage compartments next to the bed, and soon your vision was completely obscured by a blindfold. You heard a quiet hiss, felt the bed shift, then hummed appreciatively as you felt Din’s lips wrap around one of your nipples, sucking, his tongue toying with the piercing. You ran your fingers through his curls, slightly damp from being in his helmet on his hunt. He practically purred as you gently scratched your nails against his scalp.

Din gently nibbled your nipple before releasing it and moving over to the other one. The jewelry added sensitivity you weren’t yet used to, and it went right to your core. You were dripping wet, though you were more than willing to ignore that in favor of letting Din take what he needed. And he kept taking for a while, switching nipples intermittently, occasionally pulling off entirely just to look at them, shiny with spit and a little swollen from his ministrations. At some point during this, you noticed he was grinding against your thigh, hard behind his flight suit.

You gently tugged against his hair, just to grab his attention, not to interrupt him. “You should take your armor off, baby,” you mumbled.

He hummed an agreement, leaning up on his knees to do just that. You heard shuffling and pieces of his armor detaching and being set down next to the bed. It was hurried, not the organized methodical way he typically removes it. After just a few moments, he was back on top of you, kissing your lips fervently as he pinched one of your nipples, making your breath hitch.

“I’m going to take good care of you, mesh’la,” he practically growled. You felt him reach between you and free his cock from his pants, and you grabbed at his shoulders as he pushed into you desperately. You moaned at the stretch.

“You’re perfect. All mine,” Din groaned, once again letting his mouth find one of your nipples.

“Mmm… if I knew this would get you this worked up I would’ve gotten it done months ago,” you said, moaning again as Din rutted into you.

Din made another noise. “Yeah?” he asked. “You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?”

You hummed, turning into a cry as Din’s thumb found your clit, your orgasm quickly mounting. “Anything, Din,” you breathed.

Din fucked you with a mix of desperation and purpose, never leaving either of your pierced nipples alone for too long. He knew exactly how to get you to fall apart for him, and he wielded that skill well. With how worked up he’d gotten you just from sucking on your tits, you weren’t going to last long in the first place, but you had a feeling he wasn’t either.

He easily brought you to a climax, and you cried out his name as you came. He followed moments after, spilling into you with a delicious moan before he collapsed on top of you, panting. Your hands cupped his face as Din kissed you gently.

An idea crossed your mind, and you grinned.

“That look usually gets us in trouble,” Din commented, though you could hear the smile in his own voice.

“You know,” you started, “there are other piercings I could get. Like… maybe a VCH piercing?”

“VCH?”

“Vertical clitoral hood piercing,” you answered. “It sits so one of the beads of the piercing is right on the clit, makes things more intense for folks sometimes.”

Din moaned at your words, then kissed you again. You made a noise of slight surprise as you felt his hips grind against yours again.

[team-heavenly]

Drumroll‚ please! 🥁

It’s been some time, and I managed to slip on my promised deadline once again (thank you for your patience)... But finally‚ we return to the story of Teresa and Andrea in our Pokémon Mystery Dungeon: Explorers of Sky Randomizer!

A few items of note before we get started (and yeah sorry this is overly detailed and lengthy because idk what it means to be concise, just scroll down if you're not interested):

Please be aware: updates to Team Heavenly’s story will not be as frequent as they were during main. I now work a full-time job in a field where my schedule is somewhat contingent on unanticipated emergencies. And in general‚ I’m just a very busy adult! So I unfortunately can’t give you an exact (or even rough) timeline of when posts will be released— It basically comes down to whenever I have the time to do it. But rest assured‚ the entirety of this tale will be told… eventually!

I’ve gotten my hands on a newer tablet since last year, so my camera quality is much better now! …However. While snapping pics for this post‚ a seemingly unavoidable digital blue glare persisted‚ no matter how I adjusted my screen brightness. When I subsequently ran these photos through the auto function‚ they didn’t really… improve? So I had to do a lot of manual tweaking… Anyway‚ all of that to say if one shot doesn’t look visually consistent with another, it’s because each image got edited a little bit differently.

I will link multiple posts for a single "chapter" (see last bullet) in the same manner as before, with preceding and succeeding parts linked at the beginning and end, respectively. I’ll also update the table of contents in the pinned post for continued ease of navigation.

Also, please note... last year, my older iPad somehow managed to circumvent any sort of (consistent) image limit. But that is not the case this time! There is a strict hard limit of 30 images per post. It's therefore likely that post-game chapters will have more parts than the main-story chapters ever did. (Though whether that actually equates to a "lengthier" chapter is up for debate.)

As the post-game content does not get separated into official chapters‚ I will be partitioning the story based on subject matter! For example, this first act will focus on the guild’s graduation exam, the next will include Sky Peak, and so on. I also intend to use a random number generator to select chapter names from this list. (I mean, c’mon, that's part of the fun of a randomizer!) But for the sake of clarity, I will be including the actual subject matter after the chosen title in (parentheses). Thus‚ this first unofficial post-game chapter is known as…

Chapter 21: Would you like to eat moss?

(AKA: The Guild’s Graduation Exam)

As a result of Teresa and Andrea’s heroic actions… The destruction of time was stopped and peace returned to the world of Pokémon. They went back to Totodile’s Guild and fell back into their daily routine of vigorous training.

One morning‚ several months later…

Pineco: “:/ Hey hey, why can Teresa and Andrea take the graduation exam before we do? We’ve been around a lot longer…”

Tropius: “…They literally saved the world and have proven themselves to be worthy many times over. Also skill issue lol.”

Don’t feel bad for Pineco though; he’s not the only one getting roasted.

Lol rip.

Anyway‚ Andrea asks the very sensible question of what exactly this exam entails…

Dark Chasm? Evil MANSION?!

Are you— are you sending us back to the future‚ Totodile?! WTF??

Oh! That’s easy enough though. I mean‚ compared to scaling a collapsing tower while Time itself crumbled at our feet? Pshaw! This will be a cakewalk!

...You know, this is really the first thing that should have tipped me off as a kid 🤦‍♀️

🤨 How convenient.

Okay, so he's not gonna be any help, unfortunately. Looks like we're going in blind. (Haha unintentional pun...unless?)

But for real, anything that makes Mewtwo cry out in fear and run away is a force to be reckoned with indeed.

As we enter Nautical Cottage to begin our preparations, we run into our stand-ins for Teddiursa and Ursaring! After a quick chat, Horsea reveals they are also headed to the Dark Chasm...

*seen (sorry).

Also, at the risk of beating a dead Horsea (aHA! TWO FOR TWO ON THE PUNS!), y'all go play WHERE? *gets hit immediately by a Snipe Shot*

Andrea immediately suspects something is sus. Unfortunately, this is the smartest she's ever gonna get about it.

Anyway, it's been a hot minute, so I go to check my storage and evaluate what I have to work with...

BRUH?? I do NOT remember picking this up omg 😳

So my plan is to equip this for the exam, right? But then I totally forgot to do that 😅

Also I don't have a picture for this but I was able to buy 3 Poké from the Finnkecleon shop for free lol

✅Mission: set ✅Destination: arrived ✅Chance of success: 💯😎🎆

Oh my god, this really is the future of darkness!! I guess our efforts to save the world weren't enough, damn 😓

🎶I'm starting with the man in the mirror I'm asking him to change his ways🎶

A couple of Gummis later, Teresa learns the Lava Evader IQ Skill! Neat!

Me when Ivysaur used Fly:

Believe it or not, this actually almost killed Andrea at 96 damage. But the stairs were nearby and I wasn't too worried about it until...

Go figure, amirite?

Then Andrea reminded me of the awesome power of Blizzard and we knocked out everyone except Combusken and the Kabuto on the first turn <3 And she got right back up again in no time with the Fast Healer skill!

Does anyone remember that one time when I had the foolish idea to forget Quick Attack in favor of Helping Hand? Yeah, not one of my smartest moves. But I managed to find a TM in this dungeon that does the same thing as Quick Attack but better!

Here's the info for Quick Attack:

And here's the info for Mach Punch:

Higher power and hit ratio? Yes please! (Yes, I'm aware both are only one star stronger. But hey, every bit counts.)

I teeechnically have enough room for three more images, but this feels like a natural transition point so click here to advance to Part 2!

[cutepresea]

Isn't it odd Symphogear didn't get any normal length OAV or movie made, or even on the merch side more nendo or nendo petit made considering how popular it was in Japan? I know the fear was real with prods and manus during the first two seasons because they thought it was a fail project and didn't want to invest but after five seasons and five concerts? I don't know I feel like I'm missing data on why we were given the short stick compared to other popular animes...

Ah, I never really felt like that when it comes to the series (except for figures, but I get to that later in the post. I went on a bit of a tangent and it ended up longer than intended. Oops)

Five whole seasons

Four series of shorts

Enough character songs to have a box of 9 CDs released (doesn't include XDU songs)

Concerts that get released on blu-ray since G's (this one just feels like a bigger deal to me because season 1's in 2012 never got recorded or released)

A mobile game that's been running for 6 years and gets its own albums separate from the aforementioned box (there was another mobile game a decade ago that died pretty fast but nobody remembers that one, shhh...)

And a monthly spinoff manga that has enough content for four volumes so far

...All feels like a miracle to me, especially for an anime not based on an existing manga, game, or light novel

Seriously, I love this series but I have no idea how G was greenlit

I'm still waiting to see what the new project is because there's still a possibility that it could be a movie or something. I just don't expect it anytime soon, whether it be a movie or an OVA, because Kaneko (co-creator and scenario writer for the series) is busy both designing and writing a RPG which he stated was something he wanted to do while not working on Symphogear since he was too busy to work on games while he was doing that (link is Japanese, but it's the interview where he said that)

Which, again, is probably why the new project is dated 20XX

Now if I were to talk about stuff I personally would want?

If it's a movie I'd like it to be completely new content but if they make some lengthier OVAs, I've been asking for an adaptation of 3.5 from XDU for a while since the Alexandria Incident gets mentioned in AXZ.

XDU's service isn't going to last forever and I'd hate to lose a canon side story like that when it does eventually end.

They could also do 4.5 but it isn't as high a priority for me because it serves more as an introduction to Noble Red than anything and outside of the short part between Fine and Enki, it felt weird coming out after XV ended

On a bit of a side note, I've said it before, but I wouldn't be too surprised if any new anime content is by Studio KAI instead of Satelight. A LOT of Symphogear's staff moved over there after XV ended which is why XDU's second OP was done by them.

Now merchandise, oh boy, yeah that subject has stung a bit over the years. The fact the only Nendos are from S1 really is sad

They want their friends to join them

Heck, Chris didn't even get a Figma back then like Hibiki and Tsubasa did

I can't believe it took as long as it did for Kirika, Shirabe, and Maria to get figures. Especially Maria, who didn't have one released until 2022.

And it is an actual crime that Miku still doesn't have one despite being around since season 1. That is Hibiki's Wife Sunshine y'all are ignoring. (Season 1 Miku with green hair when? 🤣)

Hobby Stock's set of scale figures they've been releasing and Good Smile's ACT MODEs are a step in the right direction though. There's also been more plushes in recent years which I personally really love.

One of my wishes is someone going back to G and making figures for that so we can get Black Gungnir Maria or Shenshoujing Gear Miku

The parallel world versions of everyone from XDU would be fun too but I'm not pushing my luck there. The other Hibiki technically already has one but it used an existing Hibiki figure as a base

And yes, I am begging for a game that isn't gacha. I'm a lover of action games and RPGs so I would love something along those lines. I'm not horribly picky about the specific type

[cigvrettedvet]

charlotte & margot.

      “you being a bourbon girl makes so much sense,” margot grinned, shaking her head. though she had only been serving the past few months, it was fun to stereotype patrons by what they drank, and charlotte kind of lived up to the bourbon drinkers hype. without the annoying elitist attitude many of them had, thank god. personally, she was a vodka girl, but she figured that wouldn’t surprise anyone either. and though she’d never peg bourbon and vodka girls to be the type to get along so swimmingly, margot was happy they were the stereotype exception. because it had kind of reached the point where margot was finding it dangerously hard to picture a life without charlotte in it. so she allowed that to be a problem for another day and continued to enjoy the now. “sorry i’m not really aiding in making things less calm. but that’s nothing a little mozart or whoever can’t fix, right?” she did regret this, putting charlotte through this with her, and she would for the rest of her life. she never intended anyone to be pulled in or as scared of these people as she was, but she was eternally grateful someone was by her side. “i can’t believe your reaction to me almost driving us over a cliff because i wanted you to get some sleep is that you will teach me to drive.” which seemed like a lot lengthier of a commitment than they would be on this road trip for. “you might actually be insane, are you aware? is your brain still there or have i managed to rot it away?” she laughed for a moment, but would take up the lessons anytime. happily. “i don’t really think anything else comes to mind,” she bit her lip, “i haven’t hidden anything besides that from you. though there are a lot of things i never learned, but they don’t really seem applicable right now. so … that’s it. if anything, i’ve been much too honest with you. how’s that for a change from the average person’s behaviour, hm? i’m really glad you don’t hate me, though.”

                  charlotte lightly chuckled at that. she wasn’t aware that she had given off the impression of being a bourbon kind of gal. she’d drink just about anything if it got her drunk quickly but bourbon was a personal favorite. “you know what? i wouldn’t mind having one. so when we’re out of here, we’ll get drunk. i’ll drink so much bourbon and you can have whatever you want,” charlotte offered. a foolish fantasy maybe but it was good to dream. if they made it to margot’s other, less crazier family then maybe they could have that drink. charlotte nodded with a small chuckle. “see, you get it. mozart can fix anything.” at margot’s response, charlotte just laughed once more. she couldn’t even take offense at the blonde’s words ( she’s sure margot didn’t mean any regardless ). “i think i might be a little insane. i haven’t been really acting myself. i’ve went from hiding away at home to now offering driving lessons,” charlotte responded. saying it out loud sounded insane, especially to anyone who had known charlotte before. “okay,” is all charlotte says at first, trying to figure out where to go from there. at least margot was being honest with her - although she had said that she had been too honest. that was still better than nothing, wasn’t it? “i don’t think i can hate you. hate’s completely gone. all that’s left is worry. and fondness,” charlotte admits, “i never really cared about other people before. i was always about myself which sounds kinda fucked when you think about it but . . . it was survival. or my own version of it anyways. so you’ve become a giant fucking inconvenience actually.” charlotte means it as a joke, a smile beginning to break out on her lips after. but there was a hint of honesty. charlotte hadn't been expecting margot at all.

[seeaddywrite]

malex + “Please, be gentle with me. I’ll break if you aren’t careful enough.” please! 💕

this one was really hard, because neither of our boys are generally the openly mushy type! but i tried – i hope you enjoy! :) & look, a rare sighting of Alex’s pov on this blog! also, this one is a companion fic to this one. 

warnings for ptsd, panic attacks, self-hatred & an unreliable narrator. 

The thing that no one tells a stupid kid about to enlist isn’t that going to war fucks you up — everyone knows that. It’s broadcast through the media, in television shows and romance novels, and hell, there are even commercials about vets with post-traumatic stress disorder. As a kid, Alex was privy to the more intimate details of what that looks like; he’s pretty sure Jesse Manes wasn’t born with a mindset that allowed breaking his own son’s bones. That, Alex figures, came from what he did to survive during his own tours of duty.

Alex doesn’t like to admit that he’s got anything in common with the psychopath who fathered him, but it’s hard to ignore, lately. As a kid, despite the constant fear that his own father was going to go too far and actually kill him one day, Alex was pretty optimistic. He had plans — leaving Roswell came first, followed by pursuing a music career in a real city, without the small minds that came from small town living. Later, it had been finding a gorgeous, guitar-playing guy to create a life with far, far away from his family and the insanity that seems to run rampant in their genes. Because young Alex wasn’t like his father, or his grandfather, or even his oldest brother. He was sane, and he wasn’t going to get sucked into the violence and rigidity of a military existence chasing aliens.

Military service changed all of that. Some of it for the better — Alex isn’t stupid enough to say that there was nothing good about his time in the Air Force. Enlisting showed him the aptitude he hadn’t known he had for computers, had introduced him to some of his closest friends, and given him the skills and courage he needed to realize that Jesse Manes wasn’t nearly as powerful as he liked his children to think. He’s proud of his service.

Unfortunately, pride isn’t enough to stop him from realizing that not all of his internal changes were positive ones. Some days, when he looks in the mirror, all he can see is the negative — how the circles beneath his eyes tell everyone of his newly complicated relationship with sleep, and how the crutch he leans on constantly denotes weakness to anyone who looks at him. But, more than the physical, Alex hates the emotional changes  from who he used to be. Anxiety has become an inconstant companion, coming and going as it pleases and leaving him shaking and pale for no external reason. Even when he’s feeling stable, it’s so much harder to feel excited, or even content. Every happy moment is constantly overshadowed by the question of when it will end, and Alex loathes that more than anything.

Because while everything else has changed, his feelings for Michael Guerin are still as deep and passionate as ever, and Alex can’t enjoy it. He tries, God, he tries. But every time he thinks he can do it, when he’s confident in his own ability to be what Michael needs, something sparks that same anxiety that has sent him running a hundred times before. Michael kisses him at the reunion? Alex panics when Isobel Evans might find out. Michael takes him on an actual date, in public, and stares at him with obvious affection, uncaring of who can see — Alex lets his father get under his skin and hurts Michael enough that he can actually see the heartbreak in his eyes. One would think that after all that, Michael would punch Alex when he comes around, asking questions about his past and who he is, but the other man still lets him in … and, yet again, despite his intentions, Alex runs away as soon as he realizes there’s a chance that Michael might abandon him. It’s a miracle that Michael doesn’t seem to hate him even now; God knows that Alex hates himself.

It’s a cycle he can’t break, and Alex is resigned to the fact that he’s not meant to figure it out. He works alongside Michael and the others, helping them fight back against Project Shepherd and his father as his penance, trying to show Michael how much he means to him without trampling all over his heart, but some days, he aches with wanting the other man’s arms around him. On the hard days, when he hurts to much to wear his prosthetic and can’t leave his house, or when he’s curled on the bathroom floor, gasping through the aftermath of a nightmare and trying to ground himself with the stupid techniques his military-appointed shrink assigned him before deeming him fit for duty, Alex always has to resist calling Michael. He knows he would come. Of course he would. It’s like a law of the universe: whenever Alex needs him, Michael Guerin comes. So Alex can’t ask, can’t need him, because he’s got nothing to give back.

So the night that the guy Maria has nicknamed ‘Racist Hank’ punches a guy and sends him sprawling into Alex’s bad leg while he’s spending some time with the others outside of working and running for their lives, Alex sucks it up when the immediate throb in his residual limb sends him spiraling. Pain doesn’t always have this effect on him; Alex’s usually as calm and competent with pain management as he is with hacking. But every ache in that leg sends him straight back to Baghdad, to the crash and the adrenaline, to waking up in a German hospital to find himself missing a limb – 

Alex cuts off that line of thinking quickly. It’s not quite a panic attack, not yet, though he knows that if he doesn’t get a handle on himself, it’ll become one. He’s gotten good at hiding his weaknesses behind a mask of competency and detachment, and it works that night, too. Liz glances at him once, from where she leans against Max’s arm, but she only flashes him a smile. Michael, though – Michael’s eyes, as always, track his every movement, and seem to know way too much. Alex does his best to ignore the fog creeping into his mind and the way his fingers shake when he releases the beer bottle in his hands. He keeps up with the conversation around the table for a few minutes, nodding when Isobel declares that they all need more drinks, and smiling woodenly when Max kisses Liz on the mouth – but soon, he can’t manage it. It takes all of his focus to stay seated, to keep his stomach from overturning. His leg aches, though Alex can’t be sure that it’s a physical pain, and he’s desperate to leave before his heart beats out of his chest and shows everyone what a coward he is. 

Salvation comes in Michael’s quiet voice. “Hey, you good, man?” 

Alex wants to answer. He simultaneously wants to insist that he’s fine and walk out of the bar under his own power and to burrow into Michael’s arms and hide there until he can breathe normally again. Fuck. He flinches at Michael’s calloused hand on his, and guilt at the way the other man yanks his hand back as if stung adds itself to the heap of negative emotion in his head. 

Michael doesn’t say anything about that, though. Those uncannily perceptive eyes just watch him as Alex struggles to find his voice, to find any words to get him out of this situation – 

And again, Michael saves him. “You want to get out of here?”

Alex’s answering nod is desperate, and he’s not sure he cares. His breath is starting to stutter, and it’s going to become impossible to maintain any sort of dignity if he starts hyperventilating in the middle of Maria’s bar. After all of his hard work to show his friends that he’s fine, that he came back from war with all of his faculties, and that they don’t need to worry about him, that would definitely be a blow to his pride. And at this point, Alex feels like pride is one of the few things he’s got left. 

Michael turns around to talk to the others; Alex doesn’t know what he says, but when the other man turns around expectantly, he finds himself stuck in the chair. The low-level ache in his leg is still there, and he doesn’t want to stand – he’s not sure he could, even, without help. So, swallowing past the lump in his throat, he waves at his leg in vague explanation and asks hoarsely, “Think you could give me a hand?” 

He’s expecting Michael to haul him out of the chair, and part of him is excited for the prospect – it gives him an excuse to let Michael hold him together, if only for the few minutes it takes to make it out the door. But instead, Michael just puts his hands out and waits. 

It’s harder than he’d like to reach out and take the offer. It’s stupid, since Alex is the one who asked for help, but this – this feels like he’s asking for too much, admitting to weakness. But Alex reaches out anyway, because he can’t fall apart in the middle of the Pony, and he trusts Michael. 

They make it out the door pretty quickly after Alex throws a half-hearted wave at the rest of their friends, and he all but falls into Michael’s chest when they’re alone on the dark street. Alex presses his face into Michael’s neck, inhaling the familiar scent of sweat and motor oil and laundry detergent like it’s smelling salts or something. It works – or maybe it’s just the warmth of Michael’s body, and the sturdiness of his muscles, holding Alex up while he can’t quite manage it alone. 

“Hey,” Michael’s voice is low, and Alex can feel it rumble through his chest. “You okay?” 

Alex chuckles, and knows the sound isn’t a happy one. “You already know the answer to that.” His voice sounds raspy, like he’s been screaming – and Alex supposes he has, though the noise has all been internal. 

“You checked out on us during that fight. You faked it pretty well for a while, but I – I could tell something was wrong.” Of course he could. Michael’s always been able to read Alex so, so well. “You want me to take you home? Maria won’t let anyone tow your SUV.”  The offer sounds so good that Alex’s exhales in relief, his pounding heart easing slightly at just the thought of being in a safe, isolated place with Michael. 

“I can –” But Michael doesn’t let him finish, and the accusation that Alex is trying to push him away again, to insist that he’s fine when it’s blatantly obvious that he’s falling apart at the seams, stings. He goes rigid as his lungs stop cooperating, and he yanks himself out of Michael’s embrace, nearly tumbling down to the sidewalk when his weight is put back on the prosthetic. He catches his balance, though, and looks at Michael even when he’d rather avert his gaze. 

“I was just going to say that I can send her a text tomorrow and ask her to have someone drive it to the cabin,” he tells Michael in a soft voice. “I’d appreciate the ride. If you don’t mind.” It sounds like every too-polite interaction they’ve had over the last few months, since Alex insisted they be friends, and maybe that’s what Michael wants. The way he stomps over to the driver’s seat of the truck doesn’t really seem to support that theory, but Alex ignores it and clambers into the other seat, biting down hard on his cheek when he’s forced to use the prosthetic to push himself into the cab. 

Once inside, Alex sits with his hands clenched on his thighs to keep himself from reaching out to Michael as a way to anchor himself. His breath is once again coming too quickly, and he has to keep his mouth shut, because he’s not sure what embarrassing things would fall out of it, otherwise. But Michael isn’t content with the silence, and Alex ends up telling him what happened at the bar, about the panic that creeps up on him sometimes for no real reason. He expects to be swamped with embarrassment, but Michael’s calm assertion that panic doesn’t always need a reason keeps the mortification at bay. 

“Anything I can do to help?” 

The casual question, the offer insinuated within it so easily, makes Alex’s eyes sting. There are a thousand things he could say, each of them dismissive and right, because he has no business dragging Michael into the shitshow that is his life right now, not again. But he can’t stop himself from grabbing at Michael’s hands as soon as the engine turns off in front of the cabin, even when he realizes that the strength of his grip is probably hurting him. He stares intently into Guerin’s eyes, letting him see pat the walls and the facade and into the swirling anxiety and desperation that’s doubling as his mind. 

But letting him in isn’t enough. Michael wants the words, and Alex doesn’t know if he can give him that. “Don’t make me ask,” he begs in a whisper. Don’t make me admit it. Just - please be gentle with me. I’ll break if you’re not careful enough, and if you put me back together, I’ll never be able to let you leave. 

Alex doesn’t know if Michael’s being stubborn, or if he’s finally hit the point of no return with the man – maybe this is when he’s going to get shoved out of Michael’s life, instead of the other way around. He’d deserve it, he knows he would. But he says the words anyway, when pushed, spilling all of his anxieties and unwanted desires when Michael points out that he’s not a mind-reader. His hands shake harder than ever as he speaks, but there are strong fingers supporting them, clasping them against Michael’s chest and holding him steady, so Alex gets through it. 

When Michael whispers against his hair that he’ll stay, that Alex is okay, the latter gives up and weeps openly into the strong shoulder beneath him. The embrace is exactly what he needs in that moment, strong and gentle, warm and soft, with Michael’s ridiculous curls tickling his damp cheeks. Alex isn’t ashamed to admit that he clings, his fingers scrabbling against the collar of Michael’s button-down shirt to get at skin. 

“Easy,” Michael murmurs again, and there’s a hand against his back, rough fingers stroking along Alex’s spine. “I’ve got you.” It’s impossible to disbelieve him like this, with their chests pressed together to tightly that Alex can feel Michael’s heartbeat against his own. He nods jerkily, his own hands finally giving up on the buttons and sliding down Michael’s sides to delve under the fabric and press against the flat, strong planes of his stomach. While normally he’d be appreciating the other man’s physique, this time, it’s all about the warmth and comfort another man’s skin against his brings. 

“You ready to go inside?” Michael asks, an indeterminable amount of time later. Alex’s breathing has returned to normal, and his hands no longer shake – and, most importantly, he can think straight again. 

He nods once, starting to disentangle himself from Michael. The look in the other man’s eyes makes him pause, though, and Alex raises an eyebrow. “You said you’d stay,” he says plaintively, when it’s clear that Michael’s questioning his welcome in Alex’s home. “I’m hoping you meant longer than half an hour. Especially since I spent most of that time ruining your shirt.” Alex jerks his chin at the wet patch on the shoulder of Michael’s flannel, his ears feeling hot with shame. 

“That what you want?” Michael asks, and there’s a wariness in his voice that makes Alex furious with himself all over again. If he hadn’t left before, over and over again, Michael wouldn’t need to ask that question. He would trust Alex the first time – but that’s Alex’s cross to bear. 

“You’re what I want,” Alex says firmly, catching Michael’s good hand in his again. He’s learned his lesson tonight about verbalizing what he wants, and while he fully anticipates forgetting it the next day for his dignity’s sake, tonight, he’s willing to keep talking if it proves to Michael that he’s serious. “I want you to stay with me tonight. In my bed. And tomorrow, too, if you want – you might change your mind, because I don’t sleep worth a damn much, anymore – but yeah, Michael. That’s what I want.” He catches his lower lip between his teeth, chewing at it uncertainly before adding, “Please?” 

Michael leans back and unlocks the truck’s doors, then disappears outside for a long minute. Alex’s heart begins to pound as he realizes that he might have just been rejected – but before he can figure it out, Michael’s back, on his side of the vehicle this time, and opens the door. “I’m thinking pancakes for breakfast,” he says, once both of Alex’s feet are on the ground, and he staring up at Michael, hopeful and confused all at once. “C’mon, Alex,” he finishes, shaking his head. “Don’t look at me like that, like you don’t already know the answer. I’ve been waiting for you to tell me to stay for ten years – you can’t really think I’d say ‘no,’ now.” 

Alex’s eyelids fall closed for a moment in pure, unadulterated relief, and once again, he tucks himself into Michael’s arms, trusting that he’d hold him upright. Because, there it was in action, the single law of their universe: whenever Alex needs him, Michael Guerin is always there.

[dreadfulexicon]

@brutemper​ || dare i say mean brat rights?

" Look at the size of your zoobies! ” Alex exclaimed, enthusiastically pointing to his own bottom canines with his pinky finger. It had slipped his mind to provide a proper translation for Kage, even if he normally translates his odd way of speaking for adults. No, he was too preoccupied with the amanojaku’s teeth or zoobies as he put it.

“ You could do some real damage with those, almost as much as you could with a britva, or razor I suppose, ” he said, almost rambling as he pulled a straight razor from his pocket and presented it to the oni.

“ Do you use them for drats? Or fights that is. They look perfect for them. ”

[immortalxdreamers]

discussed a starter  || @rathatemerarious

     She was defensive at first, on that horribly gloomy day. How else should she have responded to the sight of a stranger on the premises? The Tremaines were out of town for a number of days, off on an excursion of sorts ( paid for by her dear deceased father’s fortune ). They needed new fabrics and accessories, is what they’d told Ella, followed by several remarks of how she could not possibly have any need for them herself. Thus, the last remaining resident of the house had taken it upon herself to continue with the daily duties, which included taking care of the few animals left in their possession. It was then, as she’d just finished feeding the animals and gathering up the lovely, fresh eggs, that her gaze came across a figure, soaking wet and facing the other way. 

     “E-excuse me, Sir?” the woman began, half-afraid of what the reaction might be and half-concerned for their wellbeing. Not many people came here by foot. Not many people came here at all. However, when she’d stepped up in front of the man and noticed fresh blood on his sleeve, her expression altered drastically. “You’re HURT!” And she looked quite pained herself. Stranger or not, she would help him — her mother’s words echoing in her mind: Have courage and be kind. 

     The basket of eggs swung in her arm, as she drew yet closer to him ( keeping a polite distance, nonetheless ). “You must let me help you. Would you come with me, please? It’s much warmer inside.”

[babblingbranches]

As much as I like the idea of exploring the hero from 10,000 years ago, I don’t think “time” will be in the title on account of Nintendo really doesn’t like to reuse key words. Which is a smart idea as it gives each game a distinct identity that won’t get muddied up with others in the same franchise just because of a similar title. 

For as much as LoZ has dabbled in time shenanigans, the word itself has only appeared in the title Ocarina of Time. Looking through the LoZ titles, there’s only a handful of titles that have reused a key word, Four Swords Adventure being a perpetrator of two words, “sword” (Skyward Sword) and “adventure” (The Adventure of Link). The only other repeated words in the titles are “Link” and “oracle”, which the last one I’m not even sure counts since Oracle of Ages and Oracle of Seasons look like some sort of link/counterpart games or something. (I guess “age” could count if you include the Hyrule Warriors title, Age of Calamity?)

So the BotW2 title probably won’t being using any key words from past titles. “Sky” is almost certainly off the table since that would blur its identity with Skyward Sword too much. Ocarina of Time is arguably the most famous title in the LoZ franchise, so I doubt Nintendo would intentionally shove BotW2 into its shadow by also putting “time” in the title. “Heavens” could be a possibility, though that word has a good chunk of religious iconography and connotations attached to it that I’m not sure if Nintendo would feel comfortable attaching it to one of their games. “Islands” could work, depending on what the rest of the words are. Though, a part of me thinks that, in the two trailers we were shown, whatever the new game has been titled after hasn’t been shown to us yet. At least not in its entirety.

I think the new title will have the word Zonai in it, what are your ideas on the new title?

Ten bucks on the word “time” being in there

[gryffindors-weasley]

Relighting A Flame // Part Two

Ron Weasley x Reader

Summary: After meeting with Ron, things change between you.

Warnings: mentions of death, grieving and guilt, break ups, brief anxiety, fluff, kissing

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: This is the second and final part, I hope you enjoy! Thank you to my lovely Soph @loony-loopy-lupinn for helping me out with this one 🧡

(gif found on pinterest, credits to the maker!)

It was a perfectly sunny Thursday afternoon, almost too perfect in comparison to the way you felt in the current moment. The nerves bubbled away in your stomach as you approach Rosa Lee Teabag, and you were strongly considering turning in the other direction and high-tailing it out of there. But you didn’t, you took a deep breath and you carried on forward through the busy and winding walkway.

The little bell over the small door had rung out when you entered the little shop, and you almost winced at the attention it pulled to you. More specifically the redhead who’s eyes were now on you as a blush stains your cheeks.

“Hey,” you greet with a soft smile when you approach, spotting a steaming cup of tea already waiting at your seat. The familiar scent of lemon was immediate and so was the widening of your smile at the simple gesture. “You remembered?”

“Yeah,” he laughs, scratching the back of his neck as his cheeks stain a rosy crimson. “I did.”

You nod as you take a seat across from him, a quiet settling over you both in the crowded little cafe. It was terribly awkward and you hated it, you wanted desperately for things to go back to how they were.

“Thank—”

“I just—”

You spoke at the same time, cheeks reddening deeper as you laugh softly, gesturing for him to go on. He chuckles, taking a deep breath as if to gather himself for what he’d wanted to say. Though he’s not quite sure which to say, he’s got a million things on his mind.

“I’ve never been in here before, have you?” He asks, taking a sip of his tea.

He was skirting around what he’d really wanted to say, that much was obvious. You knew Ron Weasley well enough to know when he was avoiding something, but you let it go for the time being in favor of answering his question.

“I’ve been in here a handful of times. It’s a nice little place, especially on a rainy day. Though I have to say, I do like Madam Puddifoot a bit more,” you say, your smile returning.

“Harry said that place is horrid on Valentine’s Day, he’s quite insistent on that,” he says, meeting your gaze and matching your grin.

You laugh softly, nodding at his words as you look away for a moment. “Her choice in decorations may be a bit over the top—well they definitely are, but she can make a remarkable cup of tea. And her desserts are really good too. You’d like it.”

He nods, picking at the napkin as he fights to think of something to say next, anything to avoid the obvious that was waiting to be spoken about. But the lack of conversation was becoming increasingly apparent, and he can only busy himself by looking around the small shop for so long without looking like a fool.

When the laughter and light conversation had died down between you both, you resorted to stirring your spoon around in your drink. You tried to ignore the fact that your heart was still beating wildly, and tried focusing more on your intricate little teacup and it’s matching saucer. At the impossibly delicate and hand-painted flowers adoring it. It felt as though you were on a first date, though the more you thought about it, you were quite sure not even that could match this very moment.

“Y/n,” he started, much less humor in his voice. You look up, his smile having long since faded by now. “I’m…I’m sorry.”

Your brows furrow slightly, wordlessly telling him to continue on.

“For pushing you away, I mean,” he says, looking down at his cooling drink as the very tips of his ears burn redder than the hair that covered them. “I shouldn’t have done that to you. You were only trying to be there for me and I shut you out.”

You slumped a bit in your seat, your expression softening as you looked at him. When you opened your mouth to speak he held up his hand, a silent gesture to tell you he wasn’t quite finished.

“Losing Fred, losing my home, I—I mean…I don’t know. I almost lost you in that bloody war. It was too much to deal with everything all at once...not that I had to deal with you, that’s not what I meant,” He stammers, rubbing his hands over his face.

“I know what you mean, Ron,” you say with a soft smile, reassuring him only slightly. “It’s okay.”

He could tell by your faltering smile that it absolutely was not okay, that you were hurting regardless of his reasons. You were just about as discreet with your emotions as he was, and the pang that struck his heart hadn’t gone unnoticed by him.

You weren’t angry with him, his reasons were perfectly valid. But missing your best friend for six years, someone you deemed to be the love of your life, was one of the hardest things you could have been through. It was quite like how you missed him when he’d begun to date Lavender Brown; you couldn’t bear to be around him, for you were far too hurt and too in love to subject yourself to witness their affections. You couldn’t blame her, she was a girl love, but the very way you missed your best friend had left you miserable. So, it was a similar feeling but different all the same.

“Bloody hell, this was way easier in my head,” he chuckles humorlessly, looking out the window. Anything was easier to look at than the look on your face, he felt he might crumble if he looked at your frown a moment longer. “I didn’t want you to feel like I didn’t love you, or that I didn’t care. Because I did, I still do. I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

You nod even though he didn’t see it and you watch the way his jaw tenses, his gaze bouncing around the scenery just outside the window as he tears another piece off his napkin. The silence was thick and all-consuming, not even the conversations and clinking of dishes and silverware around you could help it. You fumbled with a packet of sugar pinch between your fingers, a million different words sitting on the very tip of your tongue.

“I’m sorry too, you know,” you manage, swallowing thickly as his gaze returns to you in a narrowed stare while yours remains on your hands for a minute longer.

“Y/n, don’t.”

“I left, Ron. I...I feel just as guilty as you.”

You look in his eyes again, biting the inside of your cheek in a valiant attempt to keep your tears at bay. You wouldn’t go into specifics on just why you had eventually left, it wouldn’t be fair to him. It’d only make him feel worse when it had been your choice to do so in the first place. You could have stayed, he wouldn’t have isolated himself forever. But it’d hurt too much and that was something you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him.

“If I hadn’t been so distant you wouldn’t have needed to. It really is my fault,” he said, and you could see he’d started to get worked up.

“Ron.”

You offer him a pleading look in hopes he’d calm down, for any more anger towards oneself was not necessary for either of you. There had been enough of that in the past few years to last a lifetime. He settled down after a moment or two, a small yet sad smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he nods.

The following minutes were silent and almost the rest of the time spent there for that matter, and it was much less awkward though the tension was still very much there. But conversation had ceased nevertheless, and it was more so a quiet agreement to enjoy the other’s company even if neither of you would admit it. Company you found yourself needed more than you could have imagined. It certainly hadn’t gone how you had expected it to go, whether it be a good or bad kind of unexpected, you weren’t sure. But sitting there with him hadn’t felt as miserable or awkward as it may have looked from an outsiders viewpoint. It was a mutual feeling that maybe things would be okay after this, maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

8 Months Later

Eight months had passed since you’d gotten that tea with Ron, and things had changed drastically since that day. There was plenty more that had gotten sorted through, and plenty more lengthier talks were had in order to clear things up and move forward. It hadn’t been remotely easy at first, but Ron Weasley wasn’t someone you could stay mad at, he never was. He may have been stubborn but he cared deeply for you, that much was certain. It had taken a good month or two for things to feel somewhat how they used to or at least as best as they could, but everything good happens in time, you suppose.

You’d spend more and more of your free time with each other, until any and all of that free time had been taken up. He’d given in to your suggestions of going to Madam Puddifoot’s, and he did in fact love her pastries just like you thought he would, even though he would never admit it. You were a month away from completing your training as a healer, and he’d graciously offered to help, though he’d helped more than intended with the handful of quidditch accidents he’d gotten himself into at home. Perhaps the most notable was the way you still missed him, the way he’d missed you. It was an adjustment being friends once more, but friends were better than strangers.

Currently, it was the long awaited spring holiday at Hogwarts for students and professors, one that delightfully coincided with your time off of work. Therefore, you’d bought up a handful of books from Flourish and Blotts, and accompanied Ron for a week at the Burrow. 

The first time you had been at the family home wasn’t unlike every other visit you’d had, much to your surprise. Despite not having seen any of the Weasley’s for a considerable amount of time, it felt as if it’d been just yesterday that you’d seen them. They welcomed you with near suffocating hugs to make up for what surely would have been millions of embraces, and they had swept you away into about ten different conversations at once. It felt as though no time at all had passed, as if you hadn’t been separated from the welcoming family for just over half a decade.

It was a relief to your relentless nerves that they hadn’t held any animosity towards you for leaving. That very guilt had been weighing you down the moment you had made that decision. But you suppose it would be rather hard for the Weasley family to think ill of most anyone; they were wonderful, more love in their hearts than anything.

You had spent the better part of the warm spring day in a spot you and Ron had declared your own the very moment you had found it as teens. It was perfect. It was nestled within a clearing of trees and foliage, a small body of water settled in the very midst of it all. This time of year, the wildflowers were in full bloom to douse the area in its colorful floral beauty. Birds chirped and sang high up in the trees, the sun’s golden rays weaving in and out of old and twisting branches. The trees were perhaps your favorite part. They were older than you could imagine, covered in winding vines and moss that swirled up their trunks, their knotted roots perfect for nestling in with a good book. That is exactly how you’d been spending your afternoon.

It was a place that housed many fond memories amongst you and the Weasley family, and you were overjoyed to be able to take in its beauty again.

“Are you going to read all day?” Ron complains, mouth nearly full with a bite of his sandwich.

“You know, I just might now that you mention it,” you jest, laughing as you watch him let his head fall forward, his hair dangling out of his face and sticking every which way.

“It’s almost sunset and you’ve spoken what, three sentences to me? Three, Y/n,” he complains, huffing out a sigh as he narrows his eyes at you playfully. 

You peer over the edge of your book to see the sky was in fact filling with orange and pink hues the more it’d dipped down into the horizon, effectively dissolving your argument against his words. You sigh softly, folding the corner of your page and tucking your book away.

“You’re a pain. Have I ever told you that?”

“Yes, Y/n, you have,” he says, his attempts to sound displeased quickly failing as a smile pulls at his lips. 

“And rightfully so.”

You rest your head back against the tree, gazing up at the expanse above you. A flock of birds had been flying high overhead, the breeze blowing gently over your face. His scoff at your words was well heard beside you as you let your eyes fall closed, a soft laugh leaving your lips at the way he’d been acting. In your moment of bliss you’d missed quite a lot, his attention settling on you once more while he had the chance to do as such.

The hair tangling with his lashes and tickling his skin was of no importance in that very moment, nor was the fact that the very tree root he’d been leaning his hand on was poking into his palm rather uncomfortably. You were too enchanting to care about much else. You always had a way of stealing his attention yet still being so blissfully unaware of it. Perhaps that was for the better that you weren’t privy to his admiring, perhaps sometimes he found himself wishing you weren’t.

He wanted to reach out and brush the stubborn strands of hair out of your face, tucking them away behind your ear. He’d done it countless times before. It was awfully hard for him to enjoy the beauteous world around him when he’s got you sitting before him, making even the most enamoring of sunsets pale in comparison to you.

He’s pulled from his thoughts when you move to stand to your feet, and he just barely manages to tear his eyes from you. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t felt him staring, you could always feel it, you had caught him gawking plenty of times and each ended with incredulous scoffs and awkward laughs. Regardless, you chose not to say anything, the pink staining his cheeks enough of an indication.

You leave his side and walk to the waters edge, dipping your feet in as you hear him sigh behind you softly. You smile to yourself, laughing quietly at the thought of him.

“What are you doing?” He calls out, and you turn to face him, finding him squinting against the evening sun as he stood to his feet.

“Enjoying the water, not reading. What’s it look like?” You quip with a raised brow and a smirk.

The water wasn’t quite as enjoyable as it may have been in the summer season, it still had a brisk coldness that nipped at your skin too much to fully swim in it. Though that didn’t mean you couldn’t have your fun. 

A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth, so much so that you had to turn away from him before it became much too evident that you had been up to something. Unfortunately for you, Ron was rather observant and had caught on to such things fairly quickly, but not quick enough.

You crouch down and stick your hand in the cool water, drawing up a considerable wave to splash him with. His mouth fell agape at the near icy shock of your antics, a laugh leaving your lips that soon turned to a squeal as you took a few steps back from him. The very same mischief had begun to dance in his eyes as he dipped both hands in the water, scooping out a much larger handful before sending it cascading over your skin.

“Ronald Weasley, that was way more than I did!” You shout, his laughter immediate at your reaction. 

“Was not!”

Your frown hadn’t lasted very long as you bit back your smile. He looked away as he continued with his soft laughter, shaking his head. It wasn’t long before you too had found yourself staring, it was hard not to with the way water droplets had been falling from his hair and rolling down the bridge of his freckled nose. More so when those very droplets had dripped over the curves of his lips in a way that was almost too irresistible. You had to look away before you got yourself in trouble, instead focusing your attention on the way the stars had begun to twinkle just above you both.

It was perhaps your favorite time of day, for it was when the sky held the most color, and when the world had started to slow down. Any cloud that hung in the sky was pigmented with the prettiest oranges and pinks, and the fireflies were starting to make their reappearance with the warmer weather. The crickets began to chirp and the breeze had blown across the overgrown grass.

Unbeknownst to you, Ron had picked up where you left off, his eyes falling to you when yours return to the setting sun. You looked radiant to him, with the way your hair glimmered in the glowing orange hues, or the way your smile had been brighter and more enamoring than the very view before you both. He found himself admiring you as a friend that was too in love for his own good once more, the same way he did when he was a teenager. He didn’t want to be your friend, he wanted to be yours. He wanted to tell you he loved you because he’s never stopped, he didn’t want to blow it this time as he’d done once before.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You say. You pull your attention back to him after a few silent moments had passed without response.

“Yeah,” he smiles, and it was clear he’d been far too busy looking at you. “It is.”

You grin at him before shaking your head fondly, exhaling a laugh at his distracted words, unaware of the nerves fluttering around within him. He was always too caught up with you too pay attention to seemingly anything when you were around.

“Is it wrong that I want to kiss you right now?” Ron asks, swallowing thickly as he lets his hands fall to his sides.

You look up then, the look on his face filled with hope and the underlying regret of even speaking in the first place, fearing he may have messed things up by being too bold for his own good. The seconds had quickly felt like hours and he felt like he may just melt if his cheeks burned any redder. Regardless of his obvious inner turmoil, you find yourself smiling softly as you shake your head.

“No, I don’t think it is.”

He stood there, stunned as his eyes widen a fraction. He wasn’t entirely sure if he’d heard you correctly, or if he’d just conjured up the answer he so desperately craved to hear. The very thought was one he found himself playing in his mind ever since the day you had gone your separate ways, and now that it’s here he doesn’t quite know what to do. Doesn’t quite know how to handle himself around you; it’s as if it’s his first time ever seeing you, like a bout of new love came cascading over him and became all that he had known. Except it wasn’t new. It had been the same undying love he’d felt for you for the past nine years, and that was something that would never change.

“Are you going to kiss me?” You ask with a soft smile after a few short moments, effectively pulling him from his thoughts.

His mouth opened and closed, his heart pounding in his chest as a smile tugged at the very corners of his mouth. And with all of the certainty in the world he enveloped your hand in his own and closed any remaining space, his hand settling on your cheek as the tips of his fingers tangle in your hair.

It was a kiss to rival all others, even the very first kiss he’d ever shared with you. For he’d had six years to make up for, of thinking of this very moment, of missing you. He held you as close as he could manage, his heart pounding in his chest as he began to smile.

You were just short of breathless when you part, not straying more than a few inches from his lips as a soft laugh escapes you. You look at him, at the love dancing in his eyes and drop of water that fell from the very tip of his nose, or the ones beaded on his flushed cheeks. It was only mere seconds before you found yourself kissing him again, and again, your laughter mingling with his as his lips brush over your own.

Six years had regrettably passed him by, years that equated to lifetimes without having you with him. Your hold on his heart never faltered in that time, however, not even a little bit. The truth is, you’ve entwined yourself around his very heart and soul.

Those three words didn’t need to be spoken, they were already known. And there wasn’t a single risk he’d take of losing you once more.

—

Tags: @vogueweasley @lupinsclassroom @amourtentiaa @hahee154hq @snitches-at-dawn @theweasleysredhair

[kuriboo]

Hugsaku 2021

Day 5 - Awkward Hugs | Dueling But The Final Blow Is A Hug 

I’ve been writing a continuous story with prompts for Yusaku. This part is getting close to the end of the story. If you’d like to read the whole thing, you can read my previous posts or read the whole thing on ao3; I’ll link the ao3 in the notes. The general story is this: Yusaku finds himself in Heartland with no memory of how he got there, and Yuma decides to help Yusaku figure out how to get home.

As you can guess by the prompts I used, there’s a duel in this one. Probably most of this is actually the duel, and the duel made this pretty long compared to the other days I wrote. I probably actually spent two or three weeks working on just this part because of the duel. I’ve held onto 40 different screenshots to plan out this duel, I had to watch a specific episode of Zexal twice and track down part of an episode of Vrains that I rewatched a bunch of times. I also had to rewrite this duel probably around twice because I used the wrong cards and misread card effects. All the work paid off, though. The duel should all be correct now, and this was one of my favorite parts to write.

⁂

The four of them were doing research together in a park when another one appeared.

It was Tori who had taken the books out from the library. Given she was the biggest reader out of herself, Bronk, and Yuma, she was the only one with a library card. She brought the books to the park and the three of them, alongside Yusaku, read through them.

All the books looked like they discussed the idea that other worlds existed out there somewhere. Their hope was that they discussed how to get to those worlds so they could find a clue.

To help Astral remember his past. To help Yusaku get home.

A lot of books on the subject weren’t really intended for a younger audience. Yusaku seemed to be having an easier time reading through his book than everyone else was. Everyone else other than maybe Yuma, who was cheating and having Astral read his book for him. It wasn’t that Yusaku was overly interested in the subject, Astral was definitely more interested than he was. But Yusaku had read through lengthier, more complicated material to learn the knowledge he needed to see his revenge through. He was used to this.

The book was deep in an explanation of the possibility of other dimensions and what they could be like when they all heard the commotion.

That’s when they chased after its source, and that’s when they found another Number.

Yuma took the Number on, of course. His opponent didn’t take long to summon the Number. Rank 2, 100 Attack. This Number didn’t seem that threatening on the surface, but Yusaku knew better. XYZ Monsters were always more than just their stats. That’s what they had Overlay Units for, and this Number still had all of its own.

Yuma summoned Utopia on his next turn. Immediately after, he entered the battle phase. His victory seemed assured in his eyes, but Yusaku wasn’t so sure about that.

Neither were Yuma’s friends. Bronk, Tori, and Astral each yelled out their own warnings, but Yuma ignored them all. He declared an attack with Utopia against the other Number and…

The monster was destroyed, the other duelist’s life points dropped to 0, and the duel was over.

Yusaku blinked. Surely that Number had an effect. An effect that probably could’ve saved it, he guessed. Why didn’t the other duelist activate it? Why did they let themself lose?

Bronk confronted Yuma about his reckless play, but Yuma didn’t want to hear it. Apparently, as long as he won, he didn’t care about the possibility that his plan went horribly wrong. Yusaku sucked in a deep breath. He was definitely on Bronk’s side on this one, but he also still had to live with Yuma. Joining the argument would just make life more annoying. 

Eventually, Yuma and Bronk’s yelling reached a boiling point. The two of them turned around and left in opposite directions, leaving Tori and Yusaku by themselves.

“I don’t know how he doesn’t understand how dangerous that move was,” Yusaku muttered.

“Yuma never thinks things through like that. I mean, he focuses more on the victory he sees in front of him than the possible obstacles in the way. It helps boost his confidence; if he worried about the roadblocks too much, he’d give up every time. Plus, if that Number used an effect, Yuma could’ve saved himself with Utopia’s ability to negate the attack. Anyway, it doesn’t matter anymore. The duel’s over. We can’t let their friendship end like this,” Tori fretted. “Bronk and Yuma have been best friends for a long time. I don’t know if we can get them to see eye to eye on this, but we have to do something…”

‘We’. Right. Yusaku wasn’t one to care about friendship and friends, but after everything Tori, Yuma, and Bronk had been doing to try to help him, he owed them. Besides, Yuma wasn’t like Yusaku. Yuma deserved to have good friends. But what could Yusaku do about it? It wasn’t like he had much experience with this kind of thing. 

What would Kolter do if Yusaku was stubborn like this? The two of them had a different kind of relationship than Bronk and Yuma, but… 

“You try to talk to Bronk. I’ll try to talk to Yuma. If their friendship should be stronger than this one argument, we’ll try to remind them of that. You know Yuma better than I do, so maybe you can get Bronk to see where Yuma’s coming from.” Yusaku had a feeling that would go better than him trying to convince Yuma to see Bronk’s point of view. “Maybe we can get them to talk after they’ve cooled down a bit.”

If it didn’t work out, though, then it didn’t work out. If they were determined to be mad at each other, Yusaku didn’t know if he could stop them.

“Yeah…” Tori nodded. “I know they can work it out if we can get them to talk. Thanks, Yusaku.”

Yusaku shrugged. He didn’t feel like he was really doing much.

Tori ran after Bronk, while Yusaku headed back to Yuma’s house. Yuma had gone off in that direction, and Yusaku didn’t know where else he might go. If Yuma wasn't home, though, he’d have to go home eventually. Yusaku would be able to talk to him either way.

Luckily for him, though, Yuma was already at his home. As soon as Yusaku walked through the door, Yuma pulled Yusaku into his room to rant to him.

“Who cares if my attack in that duel didn’t work? It did, and that’s all that matters!” Yuma was still really worked up about this. “I know Bronk’s better at dueling me, but that doesn’t mean he has to put down my successes as much as my failures! I’m trying to get better, and he knows it because he’s been trying to help me. Doing a pretty lousy job of it right now, though.”

“Maybe you both have different dueling strategies,” Yusaku suggested. He was having trouble figuring out what to say, but he thought back to Tori’s words. “Sometimes it’s better to declare a reckless attack than to never do anything because you’re afraid of what could happen.” Yusaku knew from experience that that line of thinking would definitely lose you the duel. 

“Exactly! I have to attack if I want my opponent to lose life points! If you were in my situation, what would you have done?”

“I would’ve been thinking about what that Number’s special ability could be. I would’ve felt safer with Utopia than most other monsters in that situation, since Utopia can negate the attack if it looks like it’s going to go back. But it’s always possible the opponent had an effect that would’ve prevented Utopia from using its effect, so I would’ve been cautious. I definitely would’ve wanted a Spell or Trap card backing me up. There’s a possibility I could’ve declared an attack, but I’m not sure.”

“It’s not as black and white as Bronk made it seem, anyway. He doesn’t need to be so high and mighty about it!”

“I don’t think it’s that,” Yusaku said. Not fully, anyway, he didn’t know Bronk that well. But Bronk knew Yuma better than Yusaku did, which meant Bronk probably had stronger feelings about this than Yusaku. At the very least, Yusaku had Kolter’s reactions to help him out on this, whenever Yusaku’s grades slipped or he skipped a class or he skipped meals for Playmaker business. He’d already had this discussion with Kolter multiple times. Yusaku’s relationship with Kolter was still different from Yuma’s relationship with Bronk, though. “I won’t say I know how he’s thinking without any doubts, but…he’s pointing it out because he cares about you. He was worried about you. Not because he thinks you’ll give up if you lose, but these duels involving Numbers are different from duels against your friends. You want to get all the Numbers to help Astral, and Bronk wants you to succeed because he cares about you so… He wanted you to win, and he was afraid you might not. He’s afraid that this could happen again and not work out for you. Or, uh, something like that, I think.”

“He’s not just trying to be mean?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t think friends are like that.”

Yuma sighed. “I was feeling the flow in that duel. Felt like I could do anything and it couldn’t go wrong. All I could think about was how I was gonna win. When I feel like that, sometimes it feels bad when everyone around me’s not supporting me.”

“You don’t always think ahead as much as other people tend to do. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. It can be good to be in the moment and to enjoy the moment while you’re in it.” At the very least, Yusaku did miss that.

“I don’t wanna lose Bronk, but I don’t know what to do…”

“Talk to him. Communication is important in any kind of relationship working out. Figure out where you’re going from here. He probably doesn’t want to lose you, either.”

Yuma agreed to it, and later Bronk agreed to it, and they met up again after school. Tori went with them, while Yusaku met the group there. 

However, it didn’t go well. The meeting turned into more fighting and arguing, and Bronk pushed Yusaku away from him. When he did so, he accidentally disconnected the key hanging around Yuma’s neck from its rope. The key went flying, landing near Yusaku. Yusaku bent down and picked the key up, not sure what else to do in this situation.

Astral was present for this meeting, floating silently next to Yuma. Since the most recent duel against the Number, he’d kept to himself and stayed fairly quiet. But now he was staring at the ground next to him, no longer absorbed in his thoughts. “Yuma, what is that?”

Yuma looked down as well and yelped when he saw it. Black slime was creating a puddle around Yuma, oozing around his shoes. Yusaku looked around the slime for its source; it appeared to be dripping out of Yuma’s deck. That was strange, considering Yuma did not coat his cards in black slime. Everyone else noticed this at the same time as Yuma before focusing their attention back to the slime on the ground. Now it was flowing towards Astral. Astral screamed in pain as it began to envelope him.

“Astral!!” Yuma reached a hand towards Astral, but didn’t make contact.

“Number 96… It is trying to take control of me!” Astral’s body started to turn dark as more of the slime reached him. He opened his eyes and looked towards Yuma. “Yuma… give Yusaku… card…”

Yuma blinked. “What card? Why?”

“Just do it!”

Yuma reached into his deck and pulled out a couple of cards. Briefly, he looked at them as if deciding which one to pick. Then he tossed them to Yusaku, who caught them easily.

Yusaku glanced over the cards Yuma had just given him. One of them he recognized as Utopia. Another he recognized as.... the card he’d found when he first arrived in Heartland…

Were these the cards Astral wanted Yuma to give him? Why did Astral want Yusaku to have these?

Then Yusaku heard laughter, and he looked up from his cards. Astral had been completely overtaken by whatever that darkness was; even his eye that was normally all white was now all black. His lower body turned into long tentacles that curled around Yuma’s arms and torso. Yuma was lifted in the air. 

Yums screamed. “Who are you? Let me go! Let Astral go!!!”

“I am the strongest Number of them all. When you dropped your key, you allowed me to escape.” Not-Astral was smiling coldly. The strongest Number? Astral had mentioned a Number when this started happening. Was this Number 96? “Now onto step two: acquiring Number 39, Utopia!” He glared at Yusaku. Yusaku took a step back. 96 already knew Yusaku had Utopia, then? “You will give him back to me.”

96 stretched his arm forward towards Yusaku, intending to grab the card out of his hand. Yusaku held the cards close to him to make them harder to grasp. 96’s hand came closer but something stopped it before his hand could get close enough. As if an invisible wall was protecting Yusaku. Yuma’s key, still in Yusaku’s other hand, glinted in the light. Did the key protect him?

This all started when the key was separated from Yuma… Was that how 96 had been able to gain control of Astral?

“No matter.” 96 pulled his arm back until it was at its normal length. “If I can’t get it back by force, then I’ll get it back with a duel. All this is is delayed satisfaction.”

Yusaku snorted. Bold of this Number to assume Yusaku would lose. “I’ll take you on to free Astral and Yuma.” Yusaku only dueled when he had to, so luckily for 96, his hand had already been forced. He glanced over at Bronk and Tori. “Stay out of this. I’ll get them back.” 

Thankfully Yusaku was able to keep cool under the pressure. Link Vrains had given him experience dealing with people who seemed menacing and talked a big game. Tori and Bronk weren’t so lucky. They were both clearly worried and panicked. The two of them nodded and moved to be more on the sidelines. Their eyes barely left Yuma, still trapped in the air.

“Excellent.” Number 96 lowered Yuma to the ground. Yuma then proceeded to put on his duel gazer and draw his starting hand. “Oh, and by the way… Yuma will be dueling for me. Not his mind, but his body, so be careful..”

Yuma stared at Yusaku. Yuma was definitely scared, Yusaku could tell, but he knew Yuma wouldn’t lose his determination, either. “Can you duel?” Yuma asked. “You don’t even have a duel gazer…”

“I can duel without it.” Yusaku drew his starting hand as well, after sliding his cards from Yuma into his extra deck. It wasn’t like he could use his Link Monsters, anyway. “I have my deck, and that’s all I need.”

It’s all he ever needed. All the other students at his school had fancier duel disks and everything, but this duel disk that Yusaku had had for years still worked fine. The rest of his apartment had older tech anyway, from his phone to his kitchen appliances. It fit the aesthetic, as if that mattered.

“I’ll go first,” Yusaku announced before looking down at his hand. When he did, he could feel his stomach drop.

Maybe he should’ve asked to borrow Bronk’s deck, or something like that. For just a moment, he’d managed to forget the way his deck was built. It wasn’t just that he couldn’t use Link Monsters. A lot of his cards worked well with Link Monsters, many of them even having effects that required him to have one on his field. He wouldn’t be able to use some of his cards at all. He could win like this, right?

“What’s wrong? Ready to give up already?” Number 96 taunted.

Yusaku shook himself out of it. He could still win. Of course he could win. He couldn’t lose. Especially not now. “Because I have no monsters on my field, I can special summon Linkslayer from my hand.” He normally could start to pull combos in his first turn, but these conditions made it more difficult. “I place two cards face-down and end my turn.”

“A weak start.” Number 96 chuckled. “My turn now.” Yuma drew a card, grimacing. “First, I will place two cards face-down. Next, I am summoning Acorno. I can summon this card by sending one card in my hand to the graveyard. And, you see, since the card I sent to the grave is Pinecono, it sprouts back up right on the field. Next I summon forth Darklon. And now, since Darklon was summoned, all my monsters increase their level by 1. But, I am not done yet. Next, I am overlaying these 3 level 2s to XYZ summon a copy of myself. Number 96: Dark Mist!”

A Number card already? 96 didn’t like to waste time. 

“Wait, how is that thing Dark Mist?” Tori asked. “It’s completely different from before.”

Yusaku didn’t notice any difference, but that was because he couldn’t see Dark Mist at all without the Augmented Reality system. That seemed to be working in his favor right now: Bronk, Tori, and Yuma seemed far more intimidated than him by the newly summoned monster.

“That is because this is Dark Mist’s true appearance. And now, Dark Mist, attack Linkslayer!”

Yusaku frowned. Dark Mist only had 100 Attack, but 96 was still declaring battle. 96 must have something up his sleeve; Yusaku knew there was more to Dark Mist than first appeared.

“I activate Dark Mist’s special ability. By using 1 overlay unit, Dark Mist can steal half of your monster’s Attack points in order to power itself up.”

“So as long as Dark Mist has overlay units, it’ll always be stronger than any of my monsters.” Yusaku grit his teeth. This wasn’t good.

“You catch on quickly!” 96 grinned back at Yusaku. “Now, let him have it.”

Dark Mist started to unleash its attack on Linkslayer, but luckily Yusaku was prepared for an attack, even if he wasn’t sure how. “I activate my trap: Three Strikes Barrier. Linkslayer isn’t destroyed.”

“But you still take the damage! Now, I end my turn,” 96 finished. 

Yusaku drew his next card. “Since Linkslayer’s Attack is different from its original Attack, I play Cyberse Cache and draw 2 cards.” Perfect. “Now I activate Linkslayer’s special ability. By sending two cards to the graveyard, I destroy your two face-downs.” Destroying the cards themselves wasn’t too important to Yusaku’s plan, but it was a bonus. “I summon ROM Cloudia. ROM Cloudia allows me to add Latency to my hand from my graveyard. And since Latency was added to my hand from my graveyard, I can summon it right away.” Latency went to the field on defense. 

Yusaku stared at the cards on his field. Dark Mist should have 1100 attack right now. Linkslayer couldn’t beat that, but ROM Cloudia was a different story. “Now, ROM Cloudia attacks Dark Mist.”

“I use another overlay unit to use Dark Mist’s attack again!” 96 smirked at Yusaku.

“So you can use that effect during my turn as well,” Yusaku mused.

96 laughed. “Perhaps now you see. For every move you make, I can make one better.”

At least Yusaku knew for sure now. “From my hand, I activate Security Block. Neither of us take damage, and ROM Cloudia isn’t destroyed.”

Dark Mist should now be up to 2000 Attack. This wasn’t looking good, but Yusaku could work with that. “I place one card face-down and end my turn.”

“Stay tough, you hear me?” Yuma called out to Yusaku. 

Yusaku nodded. He had a plan in mind by now, since he was sure how Dark Mist’s ability worked. He wasn’t coming out of this duel with anything but a win. 

Now it was 96’s turn. He looked over the card he drew, and smiled. “Let’s have a do-over. Black Mist, attack ROM Cloudia. Black Mist’s ability activates once again!”

That brought Black Mist up to 2450, if Yusaku’s math was correct. Yusaku frowned. Why was Number 96 so fixated on ROM Cloudia? He couldn’t save ROM Cloudia this time, but he’d already…

96 laughed. “It’s pointless to keep fighting.” He turned to Yuma. “Do you have any insights into what he’s planning?”

“I wouldn’t tell you even if I knew, but I’ve never seen Yusaku duel.” Yuma shrugged. “I’ve never seen his cards, either. It’s all as new to me as it is to you. I’m on the edge of my seat, I can’t wait to see how Yusaku pulls off a victory!”

“He won’t. Not like this,” 96 muttered.

Yusaku looked over his cards. He could make this work. Everything was coming together. “I summon Draconnet. And using its ability, I can summon Dotscaper from my deck.”

“I hope you’re planning something with all these monsters,” Bronk commented.

“I always have a plan.” Normally, it’d be a Link Summon, but this time Yusaku had something different up his sleeve. “I overlay level 1 Latency and Dotscaper.” Yusaku held both his hands out, palms forward, and crossed them over each other. The number 13 appeared, glowing, on his right palm. “Appear, Rank 1, Number 13: Embodiment of Crime!”

As the Embodiment of Crime took the field, Yusaku felt the same feeling he did when he first picked up this card when he arrived in Heartland. Revenge. An overwhelming desire to lash out, get revenge against the people that hurt Yusaku and the people he cared about. It threatened to consume him, just as before. But this time he could direct it. Number 96 had hurt Yuma, taken him hostage, and like this Yusaku could clearly see how much he cared about Yuma. He could direct it at 96 and still do exactly what he intended to do before he had been given any Numbers.

Yusaku had been fueled by his revenge before, and now once more he would direct it to achieve his goals. He still felt that strong desire, but it stopped trying to overtake him as he committed himself. 

Number 96’s eyes widened. “That’s not Rank 4… That’s not… Utopia… What is this?”

“You thought I was trying to summon Utopia?” Yusaku rolled his eyes. Did he look like Yuma, always trying to win his duels with Utopia? “If it was convenient, maybe. But I’m not done. Embodiment of Chaos uses one overlay unit to change all your monsters to Attack mode.”

“Black Mist is already in Attack mode,” 96 pointed out. “I’m starting to wonder if you should have placed your hopes in someone else, Yuma. Someone whose deck you were familiar with and you knew could win, perhaps?”

“I know Yusaku can win. I don’t need to know his deck to know that.”

“And I’m still not finished. Since Dotscaper was the overlay unit I used, its ability activates, allowing me to Special Summon it,” Yusaku went on. “Next, I play Cynet Defrag. I Special Summon Protron from my graveyard. Once again, I overlay both my level 1 monsters to XYZ Summon Number 31: Embodiment of Punishment!” 

This time, during Yusaku’s XYZ Summon, the number 31 glowed on his left palm. 

“Another Rank 1 monster with only a seemingly worthless ability to help you,” Number 96 mused. “If you want to win, your next move better be good.”

“I end my turn,” Yusaku said.

“You pulled off two XYZ Summons and you aren’t even gonna attack?” Yuma puffed his cheeks.

“Why would he? Check you math, Yuma, Embodiments of Crime and Punishment both have only 500 Attack,” Tori pointed out.

“Why summon monsters with almost no Attack??”

As confused as Yuma was, Yusaku wasn’t going to explain anything. Not until Number 96 entered the Battle Phase, anyway. 96 was cautious about the new Number, but Yuma wasn’t about to let him get away without battling.

“I use one overlay unit to activate Embodiment of Punishment’s effect. Dark Mist is forced to attack Embodiment of Punishment. As long as Embodiment of Crime is on the field, Embodiment of Punishment isn’t destroyed as long as it still has one overlay unit, and you take the damage I would take!”

“I do not like this,” 96 said. Even if Black Mist had an overlay unit left, it would only make the situation worse for him.

“Well, you’re going to positively hate what’s coming next. Do you feel it, Yusaku? I sure do!” Yuma yelled.

Black Mist had 2,450 Attack. Embodiment of Punishment had 500, leaving 96 to take 1,950 points of damage, and all the monsters on Yusaku’s field had enough Attack to take out the rest of 96’s Life Points.

96 scowled. “I suppose I have no choice but to end my turn.”

From there, the duel was practically over. All he needed was Cyberse Wizard’s effect, and his monsters took care of the rest.

And as they attacked, he ran forward. He ran towards Yuma. Once he was within reach, Yusaku threw his arms around Yuma. After a moment, Yuma hugged him back. And while they stood there and hugged, Yusaku tied the key’s rope together around Yuma’s neck, allowing him to wear the key just like he had before. 

The hug had started out awkward. Yusaku couldn’t remember the last time he gave a hug, he only ever remembered receiving them, and the way he’d wrapped his arms around Yuma definitely didn’t seem how it felt whenever Yuma had hugged him. Not to mention the difference in their heights. But Yuma did hug him back. And hugged him back. He didn’t let Yusaku go for what seemed like a long time. From behind him, Yusaku could hear Tori and Bronk running towards them as well. Resigning himself to his fate, Yusaku braced himself for a group hug. 

Once the key was securely around Yuma’s neck once more, Astral reappeared beside them. He reabsorbed Number 96, and obtained Black Mist once more.

“Only friends so close fight so much...” Astral mused to himself.

Only seconds later, Yusaku could feel himself being hugged by three people at once, and he was starting to regret some of his decisions.

Bronk and Yuma immediately started apologizing to each other for everything.

“I’m so glad everyone’s getting along again,” Tori sighed. “Of course, we have Yusaku to thank for that!”

“Yeah, that was awesome! I know you said you could duel, but you did so many cool moves, and you totally had a plan the whole time that you made work no matter what, and you saved me and Astral, and I wish I could watch you duel again!”

“Not interested.”

[spookyc]

*spoilers for heathers the musical and danganronpa 2 goodbye despair*

*tw for mentions of death and suicide*

Okay so I know it's been a minute since I've posted anything substantial so here's this:

I've got an heather's au for dr 2 that id like to share. Its not a completely fleshed out one but I have a good idea of most of the main characters in the story. So the easy choice would just be to make hajime, veronica, and make nagito, JD. Especially nagito for jd with the whole, well, bomb thing as well as them both being mentally unstable and having rough childhoods. Hajime fits the role of veronica because, like veronica, he wants to fit in and not be ostracized constantly. More specifically though, it would help him become confident, which is literally his whole arc in the second game. The heathers and the rest could then be determined by a lot of different characters and so on and so forth. I respect this interpretation and it does make a lot of sense, however, I would like to propose my own interpretation.

Let's start with the two main characters, veronica and jd. So for my au, I have decided that fuyuhiko will be veronica and peko will be jd. Let's start with my choice for jd. So, after my binge of the second game's playthrough, I remember that one night I was listening to heathers, specifically the song, our love is god. And as I listened I realized how similar peko and jd actually are. Now to preface, I'm not saying jd and peko are the same character, jd attempted to bomb an entire school and peko simply made the calculated decision to kill in order for fuyuhiko's safety to be assured.

What i am saying though, is that jd and peko's thought processes are very similar, and if peko was just a tad more unhinged, they would be hard to distinguish. How are they similar? Well, first you have the whole, "I worship you" mentality. Now, peko doesn't necessarily kiss the earth that fuyuhiko walks upon but this could be connected more to their actual relationship. That of a master and his servant. I servant must serve, much like a believer would to a god.

And right after that line jd says, "Id give my life for yours." Which peko literally does in the canon story, she gives her life in order to save fuyuhiko, and even protects him with her body in her own execution. Secondly, they both are delinquents, or socially awkward. They are both standoffish and seen as intimidating by others, and they both don't exactly know how to communicate well. Thirdly, they have somewhat similar backgrounds. Jd lost his mother, and peko is an orphan, they both know what its like to not live with parents, or at least not favorable parents. For example, peko had to constantly interfere with mr. and mrs. kuzuryu fighting to insure fuyuhiko's safety. And jd and his father have a tenuous relationship, with jd's father mostly being a near non-present force in his life. Additionally, im sure the leaders of a yakuza clan weren't exactly doting parents.

And lastly, their mutual feelings of self worth, or more so, the lack of it. Both jd and peko believe their lives to be meaningless without the existence of their veronicas. The only good things in their lives are their veronicas, and they would do anything to hold onto that happiness, even if it resulted in their deaths. But enough about jd and peko, what about fuyuhiko? This may seem like an odd choice and solely made on the prospect that jd is peko, but that isn't exactly the case.

While yes it seems unlikely that fuyuhiko would bother himself with the heathers, or even have a martha, i think it fits more as a visual metaphor of his character growth shown in the game. Its just that in this au, he's a popular dick that learns to be a better person after his gf dies, which is almost what happens in the actual game, minus the popular part. But mostly I'd like to tie in fuyuhiko's role as veronica when it comes to jd. This is where the similarities really start to shine. This is shown mainly in the song, seventeen, where veronica yearns for a normal relationship and to just be normal kids that aren't surrounded by murder. Sound familiar? Well it should, that's literally fuyuhiko's whole speech near the end of chapter 2.

I doubt this needs repeating since this scene is the equivalent of the g note in the dr fandom but for the sake of the argument I will go on. Fuyuhiko in his parting words says this, "You didn't need to be a tool, you just needed to be yourself." And, "I never wanted a tool, I just wanted you....Only you." Which is him saying, "Peko I don't what you to serve me, I don't want this kind of relationship. I just want you to be yourself, and I wanted you for you, not to be a tool for murder." Which could then easily be implied that he doesn't want to murder anyone anymore. This is a near exact mirror of the feelings expressed by veronica in seventeen.

Sure im probably looking into things a bit, but still fuyuhiko's speech near the end of ch. 2 and veronica's feelings in seventeen share a lot of similarities. Both veronica and fuyuhiko simply want to have a normal relationship with their respective partners, but this ultimately fails because their partners worshiped them and this fatal misunderstanding would lead to their deaths. As for the others, I don't have nearly as deep anlaysises of them and I don't have all the characters but I'll briefly discuss my choices for the heathers, kurt, ram, and martha. Also, this is purely in the universe of dr 2, so possible better choices for characters in other games would not be possible in my au.

So heather chandler is the ultimate imposter, this was a pretty obvious choice, while the UI isn't quite as big of a dick as byakuya he's still a jerk, but more importantly, just like in the game, he is a great leader for the heathers and without him the other two descend into chaos. Now this pick is gonna be a strange one but I will explain. I chose mikan to be heather duke. Now I know yall may find that to be an unfitting choice but I personally chose mikan to be heather duke mainly for the shine a light reprise. This is because I chose heather mcnamara to be hiyoko.

Most of the other girls also didn't fit this role, akane would be hard to see as any of heathers and I also think she's far too carefree to urge someone to commit suicide. Ibuki is completely out of the question, and considering how her death looked in the game it would be quite ironic as well. Chiaki also wouldn't make sense for obvious reasons. Mahiru also would obviously not make sense either and she's already a choice for another character anyway. And lastly, sonia wouldn't fit either. I could see her having a secret nasty side but I dont think she would tell someone to commit suicide and she also was always kind to hiyoko even when hiyoko lashed out at others.

And just to cover my bases, I don't think any of the boys would fit either. Maybe kazuichi or nagito but kazuichi is too much of a pussy and nagito would be more likely to say that stuff about himself rather than direct towards anyone else. Heck I could also even consider that after the ultimate imposter dies that's when mikan reverts back to her personality as the ultimate despair, so instead of her reverting because of some disease it would be at the death of her "friend" and the role of leader getting into her head. This would then influence her to tell hiyoko to commit suicide, causing peak despair and blah blah whatever. Hiyoko as heather mcnamara was a pretty easy choice thanks to lifeboat, it also especially fits if you consider hiyoko's backstory. She's the sole daughter of the saionji family, which is a very prestigious family in dr. This along with her talent as a dancer means that she is held to a much higher standard than other kids of her age and that she goes through constant pressure each day due to this standard.

"If I say the wrong thing, or i wear the wrong outfit, they'll throw me right over the side." This is what hiyoko has to deal with on a daily basis from her family as well as her fans. She also could likely be projecting this fear onto the other students. Alright, last three. For kurt and ram, I chose mahiru and sato and if you want my honest opinion it's literally just because peko gets to kill them both in our love is god and that's pretty much canon in the actual game. I say pretty much because, technically fuyuhiko is the one that kills sato but this is an au and that's honestly a pretty minor fix.

Lastly, I haven't thought a lot about martha's role in this au, but if I had to choose it would most likely be kazuichi, he fits as the social outcast and especially as the frequent punching bag for the heathers, especially considering that hiyoko is among their ranks. And that's about it for my dr heather's au! This post definitely went on longer than I intended but I had fun with it and I think you guys deserve a lengthier post since I haven't made as many actual posts besides birthdays in a hot minute. Let me know what yall think of this, and if you'd like to hear me infodump about more of my dr aus or thoughts than I would be happy to oblige.

[spectraspecs-writes]

Korriban - Chapter 88

Link to the masterpost. Chapter 87. Chapter 89.

@averruncusho @ceruleanrainblues @chubbsmomma @strangepostmiracle thank you for reading, you get a tag. @skelelexiunderlord thank you for support, you get a tag.

A/N: Yes, it’s been three months. But I have a job, and I only just got back to writing stuff, so don’t judge me bro.

-----------

If Yuthura really does intend to slow the others down - and despite her obvious intent to betway me I believe she will - then I think I can afford to spend some time in the archive library while Carth tries to discreetly track down Dustil. No idea what Jolee is up to, but he may well be looking for more prestige. I’m not complaining. 

The library is anything but boring - other students are constantly whispering about the happenings of the Academy. “All I’m saying is, if Ajuunta Pall’s sword is so powerful, why hasn’t Uthar gotten it yet? Any student who got their hands on it could take him down.” “As if you could run the Academy, Luka - get real.”; “I heard Uthar’s master went insane.” “I heard he’s hiding in one of the tombs. Let him rot in there - if the tuk’ata don’t get him, the shyrack will.”; “Did you hear about those renegades in the Shyrack Caves?” “They’ll never get out of there… if Uthar wants them dead he just has to wait them out.” Mostly just those three conversations. Everyone has one piece of the puzzle, but no one’s put them together. Me, I’m just trying to focus on finding information about the terentatek. I have to move past the holocrons - I don’t see anything there about Dark Side creatures - so I move back to the old, hardbound books. Not much of anyone back here - a few older students here and there. 

As I scan the shelves, I actually crash into another student. I catch myself, but he actually falls over. “God, I’m sorry,” I say, offering a hand to help him up, “Are you okay?”

He takes my hand. “Yes. No, the fault was entirely mine,” he says. He straightens himself up. He’s not like the other Sith. “Hello,” he says to me, “I don't remember seeing you here before. My name is Kel... Kel Algwinn.”

“Rena Visz. Nice to meet you.” He looks and feels… off somehow. “Are you all right?” I ask him. 

“I…” he starts to say, but then he stops. “… oh, uh… nothing.”

He’s worse at lying than I am. “Are you sure?”

“Y-yes,” he stammers, “My master always says I am too trusting, too willing to show weakness. You're a Sith, so I really shouldn't… you know…”

“But I’m not a Sith.” Then I shrug. “Not yet, anyway,” I say under my breath.

“Oh, I know that.” He stammers a bit more. “I mean… you aren't yet, but you intend to be. I mean, you're just like everyone else here.”

Interesting phrasing. “And you’re not?” No, no he’s not.

“Well, I… I didn't mean it like that…”

“Well, how did you mean it?” I continue trying to scan the shelves for a book on Dark Side creatures.

“I… I shouldn't trust you,” he says hesitantly, “I can't trust you, can I?”

“Sure you can,” I say, trying to reassure him. I find the right book and I pull it out.

He looks around a little, nervously. But finally he decides to trust me. “I just… don't feel like I belong here.” He scratches his neck a bit. “I thought maybe I did at first, but now…” He shrugs. “I don't know,” he says with a sigh, “I just have so many doubts.”

I lean back on the shelf a little. I smile at him gently. “If it doesn’t feel right, then maybe you shouldn’t be here.”

“But where would I go?” he asks, “What would I do?”

I shrug. “Maybe you could try the Jedi? See what they think.”

He straightens. “I… don't know.” A shrug. “I never really thought about it. Maybe I should seek it out, give it a try.” He smiles. “Thank you,” he says, “Thank you so much.”

Anyway. Book. I sit down with it at one of the tables in here. This book is older, judging by the spelling conventions, but it still has a bit of information about creatures connected to the Force, from across the known galaxy at the time. The terentatek entry is a bit lengthier than some of the others. They lay dormant, according to the book, until the Dark Side becomes prominent in the galaxy, like after the war with Exar Kun. Or now. Their claws are poisonous, but the poison does more damage when the skin is broken. The rest of the body is not toxic in the same way - not harmless, but not dangerous in and of itself. They are immune to the Force. And they reproduce by laying eggs. That had to be a gutsy exobiologist to take a terentatek egg and examine it. Reports of one in some caves near here. I wonder…

Lashow leans over my shoulder. “Any information on tuk’ata in there?” she asks.

“Uh…” I do a quick flip through and find the entry. “Yeah.” I’m done reading anyway, so I hand it to her. “Go nuts.”

She sits down next to me and starts reading while I note down this new information in my datapad. She glances over at me, does a double-take at my face. “You?” she says in disbelief, “I can’t believe you actually made it into the Academy. You certainly don’t act like a Sith.”

“Why? Because I gave you a book I was finished with?”

“For one thing, yeah.” She scoffs a little, noting stuff down in her own datapad. “It doesn’t matter,” she says confidently, “It just so happens that I have a sure-fire way of pulling ahead in this little contest of ours. You don't really have a chance.”

“Oh, yeah? And how’s that?”

“I've found an artifact that will impress Uthar far more than anything you could ever scrounge up. I'll win for sure.”

“If you’re so confident, why haven’t you taken it to him yet?”

“I don't have it just yet,” she says, sneering, “I'll get it… when I'm good and ready.”

I glance at the book. “It’s stuck behind a pack of tuk’ata, isn’t it?”

“So what if it is?” she says quickly, “I’ll get it eventually, regardless. Nothing good comes without a bit of a fight… that's the Sith motto, more or less.”

I glance at her up and down. “You talk a big talk,” I say, “No offense meant at all. Talking big works on people. You can intimidate people. Persuade people. Puff yourself up so they move away.” She glances around a bit, trying not to look nervous. “Animals are a different story. They don’t care about words. If you want to take out an animal, you have to be faster than them or stronger than them. Or both. You have to know them as well as you know yourself, and you’re not going to get any of that out of a book. The Force can only take you so far.”

“And what do you know about it?”

“You’re talking to a scout, here. I’ve dealt with more animals than you can imagine, in their habitats. Animals that have never been documented, until I saw them. I learned to think on my feet, know what they know, think as they thought. That leaves marks on your soul.” I look at her again. “You don’t have those marks. You’ve never considered their souls, their connection to the Force, and if you go up against them, you will fail.” I can see in her eyes, I’ve convinced her. “You need my help if you want to get that artifact.

“Hmm…” She’s trying to sound like I haven’t scared the shit out of her. “You make a decent case. I suppose it's possible that Master Uthar could award both of us prestige. We'd be ahead of the others, for sure… I want something out of this, first, however.” Of course she does. “I want you to tell me about some lead you have for where I could find more prestige.”

Hmm - which one? “I heard about some renegades hiding in the shyrack caves - Master Uthar wants them killed.” She’ll probably run into the terentatek and turn back. If that’s not there anymore, the shyracks will probably turn her away. And if neither of those happen… she’s never broken a nail in her life, has she? She won’t last long in a cave.

“Oh?” she says curiously, “I hadn't heard about them. It certainly merits looking into. All right, I'll let you in on my plan.” She shows me her datapad. “The artifact that I've discovered is an ancient Jedi holocron.” Looks impressive. “Unfortunately, the holocron lies in the gullet of a tuk'ata mother.”

“The pack matriarch.” Based on the image in the book, the little bit that I read before handing it to her, they’re matriarchal. “She’ll be hard to get through to. Packs are a lot like the Sith sometimes, actually - the leader has to fight their way to the top.”

“I can arrange for us to 'meet' her, but you're going to have to help me in putting her down,” she says, and she takes back her datapad. “Go into the valley when you're prepared enough. I'll be amongst the central pillars, near the north end.” She closes the book and stands up. “I'll be waiting, so don't take too long.” And she leaves, leaving the book on the table. Doesn’t even put it on the rack to get put away. You know, there’s evil and then there’s just plain rude. You can be evil and not rude. I on the other hand am neither, so I pick the book up and put it on the librarian’s cart to be put away. (The librarian nods thankfully at me.)

“Hey, Dustil!”

My head perks up when I hear that name. Of course it does. I look around, trying to see who spoke and who he’s talking to. There - two humans. “Hey, Dak, what’s up?” That must be the right Dustil. I can tell - he looks like Carth. He has the same facial structure.

“I haven’t seen Selene lately, have you?”

“No, Dak…” Dustil says slowly, I can feel he’s sad. “Selene… Selene died in the Valley. Master Uthar told me.

“Oh, gods, I’m sorry, man.” 

“Thanks, Dak.” The conversation continues, but they walk away.

I sit back down and concentrate. I need to tell Carth that I’ve found Dustil, but I don’t want to use the comlink in case someone’s listening. I need to contact Jolee. I’ve never done this when the other Jedi wasn’t within eyeshot. So if I send out vibes through the Force, if I concentrate on him, maybe he’ll hear me. Jolee… Jolee… Jolee…

“You called?” he sends, “I wasn’t expecting this.”

“Do you see Carth? I found Dustil, he’s here in the library.” 

A pause. Then, “His excitement is palpable. Should we come to you?”

“No,” I send quickly, “No, if things get tense, I don’t want the other patrons getting caught in the crossfire. Or listening in.”

“Do you have a plan?”

“The start of one. Get into Uthar’s room, I feel like that’s a good start before we head out into the valley.”

Another moment. “You can imagine his excitement has dwindled.”

“He’ll live. Meet me back at the room, I’ll be there in a bit. I’m going to see what Dustil does.” Jolee breaks with me, and I try to discreetly watch Dustil.

He connects a datapad to one of the computer terminals. I connect to one myself, downloading information on the Valley of the Dark Lords. I have no idea what Dustil’s downloading, and it doesn’t really matter. Whatever it is, he gets the information, logs out, disconnects, and leaves. I wait a few moments before doing the same, following him. He heads back to the bedrooms, and I go to meet Carth and Jolee at mine.

[gastricpierrot]

Title: Heartbeat

Series: Promare

Pairing: GaloLio

Rating: T

Summary:

Lio turns himself in after the final battle, the start of a new life he must get used to.

This is a story of how Lio Fotia navigates through the days that follow, learns that support comes in more forms than he’s ever familiar with, and deals with his alarmingly developing feelings for Galo Thymos.

Also on AO3

[Prologue][Chapter 1]

[Chapter 2]

Immediate action is taken after Lio threatened the bastard, which he thinks is pretty ironic considering how long he had had to put up with his antics.

At the very least, Lio doesn’t seem to be the one judged as the problem, since he gets to stay in his usual cell while the bastard gets assigned to another wing in the building where they are pretty much guaranteed to never cross paths again. Guess sexual harassment remains a worse offense than petty bullying.

Lio is surprised, though, to find out how many people in his hallway approves of what he’s caused. On the morning of the announcement itself, Lio has about three inmates catching his gaze and giving him understanding nods and smiles and even some thumbs up. It’s the first time Lio’s felt any sort of solidarity with the other inmates, and he’s not sure if that’s a good thing. He doesn’t want to judge anyone at this point. They’ve all got their own reasons why they’re there.

With Bastard out of the way, Lio finally attains ultimate peace in his inmate life. No one to bother him in hours of the morning when he’s still barely feeling human, no one to cause him to miss meals and starve through the nights. And most importantly, no one to put their filthy hands on him.

The only shame is that Lio really would have loved to break the bastard’s fingers, given the chance, but he digresses. There are perhaps other methods of anger management.

So time passes, as it always does. Lio works, learns and grows. His body eventually stops aching as much after a day of construction work. His jumpsuits start fitting a little better, his pants no longer needing to be rolled up as many times around his ankles. His hair has grown enough to go past his shoulders on a few occasions, and he’s been requesting to cut it short after realizing how difficult it is to maintain lengthier hair in a facility that provides the barest of necessities. The fanciest things Lio has seen to date are the scented hand soap provided in the washrooms near the cafeteria.

Lio admits that he does make the effort to go all the way there to use them when he can. Even the sterile scent of lemon and lime is better than the moldy, sour stench of an insufficiently ventilated building. Just more insignificant things to appreciate, just more things to get used to.

And a year and a half after the battle that led to the final Promare Blaze, Lio finds himself watching the news report on Kray Foresight’s official imprisonment.

It had taken time to finalize his sentence mostly because of his prominent position as the Governor. Lio doesn’t understand all the details himself, but it apparently takes a ton of processes to go through when the head of state is the one who’s being convicted. Lio hears that Kray had been mostly cooperative, though, and that he’d easily admitted to the charges pressed against him.

Lio hated—and still hates—Kray Foresight for all he’s done to his people. He's subjected them to human experimentation, encouraged their oppression, and even attempted genocide of the Burnish by using them as fuel for the Parnassus. Lio had, with all his being, wanted to rip him apart with his own two hands. Kray had repeatedly tried to take away everyone and everything that mattered to him. Lio can never forgive him, never wants to forgive him.

Which is why he doesn’t understand how empty he feels while watching the segment covering Kray’s imprisonment on television. There’s no satisfaction, no gratification despite seeing how karma has finally passed her judgement. Perhaps part of him wants Kray to received worse punishment than simply going to jail. He had killed, had lied and manipulated his way to the top. He deserves more than just being locked up somewhere for the rest of his life.

Galo visits the day after the news broke.

He's much more sullen than usual, which isn’t something unexpected. Lio knows how much Galo had idolized the man, how he’d lived a lie throughout his most formative years. He can’t imagine how it feels like to discover that your hero had actually been the one who’d orphaned you, that the person you admired the most in the world and want most to be proud of you—to turn out so sick and deluded. Even Lio had felt a little bad when he shoved the truth into his face back then. It definitely couldn’t have been something easy to accept.

Galo is kind; in that foolish, naïve, yet straightforward way of his. He has so much heart to give, and therefore also so much to break.

“You okay?” Lio can’t help but ask when Galo trails off from a bit of small talk he’d managed to muster. Galo glances at him, and laughs nervously.

“Yeah,” he says, so unconvincingly that he shouldn’t even have bothered. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Lio chews on his lip, desperately grasping for a change of topic. But what? What would be a good one that wouldn’t sound too awkward? This is too sudden. If only Galo could’ve told him in advance that he’s visiting then maybe he could’ve had some time to brainstorm—

“Lio.” This time, the call of his name is followed by a huff with that sounds like genuine amusement. “You look like you’re having trouble pooping.”

“Well maybe I am? Mind your own business,” Lio snaps, mostly out of instinct and a bit out of panic the moment his thoughts dissipate. They stare at each other for a few seconds, before one of them cracks and they mutually dissolve into a string of chuckles. The atmosphere finally lightens slightly.

“It’s okay, Lio,” Galo assures once more, his shoulders losing a bit of tension in them. “I really am fine.”

Lio studies his face, trying to read this expression he’s wearing that he’s so unfamiliar with. Even Galo, with his endless passion and energy and brilliance, has this side to him.

“I’m sorry you had to experience everything you did because of him,” Lio offers, holding Galo’s gaze. “You don’t deserve what he put you through.”

“O-Oh.” Galo seems taken aback—slightly embarrassed, even. He breaks eye contact first, reaching to knead his fingers against his nape. “Thanks? Though really, it’s nothing compared to what he’s done to the Burnish and—”

“Galo.” Lio stops him, working to stamp down the sudden rise of anger in his chest. He doesn’t like where this is going. He continues despite Galo’s refusal to meet his eyes. “It’s not something that can be compared. You still feel what you feel. Your emotions are not any less valid.”

“I just—” Galo cuts himself off with a sigh, frowning as he stumbles for words. Lio wonders if they should stop this conversation, if maybe Galo really isn’t prepared to talk about this just yet after all. But Galo speaks again before he can say anything about it, voice even softer than before. “I just don’t know if I have the right to feel this way.”

Lio frowns. “Galo—”

“You don’t understand, Lio,” Galo barrels on before Lio can interject. He seems to be in so much conflict with himself, torn even just trying to articulate it.  “I know he’s done many horrible things; I’ve seen it with my own eyes. He's a bastard who would do anything for the sake of money and glory. And yet I...” he digs his nails into the skin of his neck, “I still catch myself hoping that isn’t all to it. That all his lies and actions had a good reason behind them. That deep down, he’d truly wanted to save the human race.”

The bitter little laugh he then lets out brings an ache to Lio’s chest.

“I really am an idiot, aren’t I?”

Lio doesn’t respond immediately. He knows he can’t, not when this topic is so complicated and delicate to Galo. As he thinks about it, Lio realizes that he and Kray Foresight really aren’t that much different in some regard. They both did bad things for a cause they thought was good.

But he also knows that good reasons don’t always justify bad actions.

“You’re an idiot for beating yourself up over something you have no control over, yes.”

Galo winces, but Lio isn’t done. “Again, what you feel is valid despite how wrong you may think it is. But I believe that it’s how you react to your emotions that matters more. What do you intend to do about them, Galo? Will you just sit around and mope forever? Or will you continue doing what you’re best at and prove that he doesn’t have control over you even now?”

More contemplative silence. But this time, Galo finally looks at him again.

“You know that’s not even a question,” he protests, and Lio hopes he’s right to think that he looks a little more relieved than before. Galo takes a deep breath, and puffs out his chest for the first time that afternoon. “My soul must burn on, no matter what happens. I’ll have to work even harder at helping everyone who’s been affected.”

“That’s the Galo I know,” Lio approves, heart lifting at the sight of him being a bit of his usual self again. It truly takes moments like these to remind him to appreciate the cheer and energy Galo normally radiates around him despite what he’s been going through internally.

“Thanks, Lio. For listening,” Galo says, then moving to stand up when he sees the guard outside getting ready to kick him out once again. Lio crosses his arms and leans back against his chair.

“It’s the least I can do,” he smiles, but he doesn’t seem to be able to keep it up very long. He quickly speaks again before Galo can notice it. “But really, Galo. You must remember to take care of yourself, too.”

“I’m not too worried about that, honestly,” Galo admits, “I’ve got you to help me with that.”

Lio blinks. “Galo, I don’t know if you realize, but I’m still in detention and I’m not the most accessible person at the moment.”

“Yeah, but even just a short time with you like this make me feel a whole ton better!” Galo insists, and Lio finds that he can seriously never argue with him for long.

“You really are a weird one,” is what he settles with, which earns him an impish grin from Galo. “Now go, idiot. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

xXx

Tomorrows. Lio eventually runs out of tomorrows to spend in the detention center.

His sentence lasts five years. It seems short compared to the damage he’s done, but it’s something that’s been desperately fought for by the people who cares for him.

The night before his release, Lio lies awake trying to sort out what exactly he’s feeling. There’s excitement, of course. He can’t wait to reunite with his friends, catch up with all that has been going on, ease back into the comfort of their companionship. Feel like he’s actually part of something again. It’s great that he’s been able to somewhat keep up with the general idea of what’s going on with them through media reports, but it’s also brought with it an inevitable sense of separation. Out there, life moves on without him. While the others struggle back on their feet, Lio has been coddled in the detention center.

He's... suddenly not quite sure how he’d be able to face them. Does he really have the right to when he’s been having the privilege of staying under stable shelter and not having to worry about the daunting uncertainties of the near future for the past few years? Can he really say that he’s served his punishment when he’s probably been having it easier than many of the former Burnish who have been trying their hardest to assimilate back into a society that once saw them as nothing but monsters and terrorists?

These thoughts aren’t something new. His brain, in fact, would always steer this direction whenever it occurs to him how at peace he’s feeling despite being in detention. Lio has only ever been running away instead of facing them, convincing himself that there’s nothing he can do about it while he’s still there. Even if he mulls over it for days and months and even years, what is done is done. He can no longer change the fact that he is where he is. He's come too far to start regretting.

But now there’s no other option but to face them, no excuses left for him to escape. And Lio is just as lost as ever.

Morning still comes; it always does. Lio listens as the alarms blare to signal the start of the day for the other inmates, as cell doors slide open and groggy yawns and groans fill the hallway along with the shuffle of feet. He listens until there’s nothing left to listen to but his own breathing and heartbeat in his ears.

Lio later has his breakfast brought straight to his cell by an expressionless guard. Even though he’s scheduled to be released in literally a few hours, he isn’t allowed to leave the room. The door will only unlock when it’s time for him to meet the head warden at the office.

Lio doesn’t want to bother thinking too much into it, so he doesn’t. He's making enough effort just trying to swallow and stomach the usual sandwiches and milk, both made even blander by his nerves. He ends up pacing around his cell until he hears the lock disabling, and even then he catches himself trying to stall for time by folding his blanket repeatedly because “the corners don’t perfectly align”.

He's being extremely ridiculous. He knows. He’s going to be free again, for God’s sake! He's not so much of a coward that he’d rather stay in a prison equivalent than face the reality he’s been mostly shielded from all these years.

Except maybe he is. A little bit. Quite a little bit.

Lio’s asked to sign some documents at the office, then he’s reminded that he’s still on probation for another year after he’s released. Although its recording functions will be permanently disabled, his movements can still be tracked by the chip in his ankle. Lio’s later given a set of plain civilian clothes which he changes into on the spot, as well as his own identification card once the rest of the briefing is out of the way.

And then with absolutely no ceremony at all, he’s dismissed.

Lio walks towards the detention center gates. Through them, with no one running up to stop him. It’s been five years since he has the right to go wherever he wanted. It hasn’t quite sunk in, what’s happening. But he’s sure it will, eventually. Eventually.

He's there of course. Just as he’s always been, always waiting for him from afar. It may be arrogant of Lio to never have even doubted it.

Galo’s standing close to his parked bike, squinting at his cellphone under the late morning sun. He looks up when Lio calls out to him, and in that moment, the weight in Lio’s chest lifts enough for him to breathe.

And with that, the first day of Lio’s next new life begins with a wave and a bright call of his name from Galo Thymos.

[alexandertash-blog]

(HALE APPLEMAN. CISMALE. HE/HIM. THIRTY-ONE.) Hey, is that ALEXANDER TASH? I heard they’ve been in Salem for TWO YEARS and they’re working as a RADIO JOURNALIST. Last I spoke to ‘em they were pretty +INSIGHTFUL & PERSISTENT, but I hear they can be -PARANOID & SELF-CENTERED too. (tara, 28, she/her, est.) 

CLOUDS OF CIGARETTE SMOKE; OBSERVATIONS SCRIBBLED ON SCRAPS OF PAPER; FINGERS RUNNING THROUGH TANGLED HAIR; A VOICE ECHOING IN A COLD, DARK ROOM; A WELL-WORN DECK OF TAROT CARDS

Hey, hi, hello! I’m Tara, and I’m so excited to be a part of this group. I don’t use fancy tags or too much formatting because I’m lazy -- but, like, what my posts lack in aesthetic charm I like to think that they make up for in at least passably decent substance? Here’s hoping! 

Anyway, here’s my intro post for Alexander; some basic information can be found below the cut. 

a pre-emptive TLDR; Alexander is an outwardly friendly man who likes talking to people (and, by extension, learning information and rumors), and he hosts a radio show every night under the pseudonym Asher Wilde to provide news and entertainment for the town. However, he’s a hard nut to crack in terms of actually getting to know him because he keeps his personal life to himself, and he finds it difficult to trust others’ good intentions. He practices witchcraft independently of any coven, for a mixture of purposes.

A lengthier explanation is below, if you want to read more details! I mostly wrote it out for my own benefit, lmao.

Background:

Alexander Tash was originally from a small town in Illinois. He was the youngest of six siblings and pretty much learned to keep his head down, especially because his parents were extremely conservative and he didn’t exactly fit their idea of an ideal midwestern son. He was too talkative and curious, and he was never the picture of heterosexual masculinity, which made him an easy target for ridicule, especially from his older brothers. The sibling nearest to him in age was close to him, but other than that, Alexander doesn’t keep in contact with his family. 

He ditched town as soon as he earned a scholarship to study at a public university in Chicago. He majored in art history, but it was working a part time job at the school’s radio station that he really wound up enjoying, because he realized the power that an on-air microphone could provide. He didn’t bother changing majors at that point, but his voice became a nightly staple of the station, as well as at university events.  

His popularity at university blossomed because of this, and Alexander ended up being pulled into a large circle of friends. He was swept up in this at first - but eventually learned that they were using him (and his radio platform) to promote their own self-interests. He finally realized that didn’t really matter - he got the best scoops of info from them that he could then turn around and investigate further to broadcast the next day. 

After graduating, he worked a series of part-time jobs in downtown Chicago - a bartender, a personal shopper, a florist’s assistant - to pay the rent for his studio apartment while also doing part-time research for the art institute. It was absolutely miserable. 

Alexander moved to Salem by a stroke of luck when their radio station sent an online call out for audition tapes from would-be broadcasters. When they offered him the job, he came to Massachusetts specifically for the chance to be on air again. 

He lives in an old house that’s been converted into separate apartments, and he doesn’t have a car, so he either walks, bikes, or takes public transportation. You’ll usually find him out and about in town, except for in the evenings, when he works. 

Profession:

He runs radio channel Salem 104.3 fm. The network management that owns this particular station has four or five other channels in town as well that all work in the same office building, and Alexander talked them into letting him do pretty much whatever he wants on 104.3. 

He pre-sets a playlist of music for day and is only physically in the office from 5-10 p.m. He hosts a local news broadcast at 5 p.m. every day, followed by an informal talk show of sorts where he sometimes calls people to interview them, sometimes takes callers, and otherwise just finds interesting articles or bits of literature to read aloud during the breaks between songs.

He likes to find interesting news to report on, covering everything from local gossip to updates about town-wide news such as the murder. Whether or not the news is accurate is not really a concern of his, as long as it’s thought-provoking. He does try to provide all angles, though, and give as much information as possible, plus a healthy dose of speculation. (He wouldn’t consider himself a conspiracy theorist, but if the show fits...)

However: he didn’t want people in this town to try to manipulate him for their own interests, and he didn’t want people to censor themselves around him, either. So he disguises his voice on the radio (he speaks much more slowly and in a lower register) and broadcasts under a pseudonym (Asher Wilde), so unless someone listens very closely, they wouldn’t know that they’re the same person. Alexander doesn’t lie about his profession - if asked, he still says he works at the radio station, just in an administrative capacity instead of on air. 

Witchcraft: 

Alexander is a witch who is not part of either coven in town, though he’s heard that both of them exist, even if he doesn’t know all of the specifics. His magic style aligns more with the Witches of Requiem, to put him on the spectrum. 

He started practicing tarot in high school (because why not?) and his interest was more of a casual hobby until he realized that it was always right, as long as he knew how to understand what the cards showed him. Then it became more of an obsession. 

He’s met a few other witches to trade tricks and techniques but has never been part of a specific coven. His skills have grown, and he usually casts simple spells so he could be overlooked in public to hear better news, or spells intended to more easily allow him to gain others’ trust. He’s played around with casting protection spells on his listeners through the radio waves, but he has no idea if that works or not. 

He has a vindictive streak against people who seem to wrong him; he’s successfully hexed four people before, non-lethally, and does not feel guilty about it in the slightest (two former hook-ups, an ex-boyfriend, and one customer, all of whom deserved it, in his opinion). But he’s not in the habit of using magic to harm others, otherwise. 

He still trusts his tarot deck entirely, more-so than any human he’s ever met, and he’ll do tarot readings for people who have earned it, in his estimation. 

Personality:

Alexander doesn’t share much about his personal life. He much prefers listening to others, and will always try to spin questions back on the asker rather than reveal information about himself.

He’s made himself quite well-known in the time he’s been in Salem, and he has never lacked for company. He has acquaintances he drinks with, people he parties with, etc, but he wouldn’t consider himself to have any “friends.” 

That said, he’s also located at an odd intersection of isolation and vanity. He’s very self-centered, and he loves to be complimented, even if he doesn’t entirely trust sincerity. 

Upon first meeting, he tends to seem self-assured and friendly. He’s not afraid to jump right in to conversation,

When you get to know him a little better, you realize that he’s much less of an extrovert than he would appear to be. If it weren’t for having to find news to report on, he would be perfectly pleased to hole up in his room. But ever by himself, he overthinks everything and doesn’t know the meaning of the word “relax.” 

I can’t wait to start interacting with everyone else! I don’t use discord, but feel free to slide into my messages if you want plots, and we can work something out xoxo

[reallypheelingit]

I originally intended to just do a comparison of Millie and Falcata’s sizes, but Riah inserted herself into things, and Proper ended up here too haha i’ll have to draw my other two pcs one day

Riah loves her fellow Pearlies and wants them all to be friends, but Millie hates Falcata with all her being and Falcata doesn’t like anybody. And Proper just feels awkward, she’d rather be hanging with her fun Mirror gf...

Anyway, I love my pcs and their sizes have always amused me. First I had just Falcata and Millie, and when they were fully grown, Falcata ended up being almost double Millie’s length but half her weight. So Falcata was very tall and skinny, and Millie was short and fat. But then I got Riah who ended up being just slightly heavier then Millie and just slightly lengthier than Falcata (and I like to think Falcata holds a grudge against her for outgrowing him) And also Riah has the teeniest wings. I love her. But yeah she made things a little more difficult, I still have a hard time making Riah and Millie actually look like they actually could be the same weight despite the big height difference :x i think i’ll have to just go with their wings being a large factor in that? millie’s wings are pretty big, her wingspan is like 2m longer than Riah’s haha. can riah even fly.

Proper on the other hand, is pretty average sized. She’s comfortably between the others’ measurements, though leans a bit taller and lighter. 

doodles under a cut

doodles i did today at work in preparation for this drawing haha. I made Falcata too short but I think I do like that size for Millie! I also decided Qirrasi is buff.

I tend to draw them bipedally because it’s easier for me but here’s some attempts at them on all fours! 

also i feel bad that millie looks so unhappy in all these drawings so here is a doodle of her in a better mood!! unfortunately, falcata does not do happy. (if you really wanna see him smile though, i do have this old drawing of him looking smug)

[icedanceupstarts]

JGPF 2019 Preview

We’re officially at the midpoint of the season and junior ice dance has finally returned to us! In case the JGP feels as distant to you as it does us, here’s a quick refresher!

Avonley Nguyen/ Vadym Kolesnik USA

Age: 17/18

Started Skating Together: 2017

Coach: Igor Shpilband and Pasquale Camerlengo

Season's Best: 174.68

Rhythm Dance: Aladdin

Free Dance: Rach 2

Fifth at this event last season, Nguyen/Kolesnik are the top qualifiers at their second JGPF. These two have charisma for days, and it just might carry them to the JGPF title. In just three JGP seasons these two have gone from being the newcomers in the middle of the pack but with loads of potential, to putting up the highest scores of the season so far. Aladdin is a great fit for them in the rhythm dance and Avonley’s dress is absolutely stunning. Would we have personally chosen to construct this program in this manner, including a slowed down cover of A Whole New World jammed in the middle? No, but they make it work anyway with strong skating and so much personality. And the Friend Like Me sections are a real delight. We're interested to see how their performance and interpretation of their free dance has evolved. While beautiful during the JGP season, the program didn't feel all the way there and lacked a sense of building throughout. They have some of the best lifts in the world, at any level, using their size difference to make difficult lifts look effortless. The speed, changes in position, and flow in and out are all just impeccable. If they keep doing what they've been doing, it's going to be hard for anyone to beat them for the gold, either here or for the rest of the season.

Elizaveta Shanaeva/David Naryzhnyy RUS

Age: 16/20

Started Skating Together: 2016

Coach: Alexander Svinin and Irina Zhuk

Season's Best: 171.07

Rhythm Dance: Bonnie and Clyde

Free Dance: River

The first to actually qualify to JGPF, Shanaeva/Naryzhnyy have really stepped up this year. There was certainly room to do so nationally with last season's top Russian junior dance teams moving to seniors, splitting up, or missing time due to injury, but their big improvements in skating together and in consistency would be commendable in any case. 

Our personal favorite Bonnie and Clyde program, although we still can't believe there are enough contenders for that title that we can actually choose from. It's just really well constructed and a lot of fun, suiting both their individual personalities and chemistry as a team. Their entrance into the twizzles is mildly ridiculous and feels like a seamless part of the choreography. Their free dance is coming along and we're interested in seeing how it's evolved. It was a bit of a mess at the test skates but they've improved at every outing. Last we saw, there was a lot of music happening towards the end, but it's a pretty cool contemporary program with a really badass combination lift. There's a lot of variety in the free dances this year, but they would stand out regardless, and with two other Russian teams joining them in group one for the rhythm dance that can only work to their advantage.

Elizaveta Khudaiberdieva/ Andrei Filatov RUS

Age: 17/19

Started Skating Together: 2019

Coach: Denis Samokhin, Maria Borovikova

Season's Best: 165.59

Rhythm Dance: La La Land

Free Dance: Sign of the Times

We've got to tip our hats to Elizaveta here, the reigning junior world silver medalist with her former partner who has not missed a beat in this new partnership. Of course, equal credit goes to Andrei, who has also completed his first JGP season like he's got years of international experience. They're not the first junior team to find major success in their first season together, but it's still worth noting how quickly and seamlessly they've fit together. La La Land will never be a true fave for us and their styling is a bit sleeker than we typically see with this music choice, but they're just already such a strong team that their talent makes it work. The angst of their Sign of the Times free dance is right up Elizaveta’s alley as a performer and is a great vehicle for this new team. It allows them to go all out on emoting and connecting with each other while not being too complicated a story or theme for them to portray at this point in their partnership. They don't have quite the complexity of some of the lengthier partnerships in this event, but not to the point where it should hold them back if they skate their best. New teams with strong basic skating skills can often show more drastic improvement early on competition to competition compared to some more established teams, so it will be exciting to see how much farther they’ve been able to take their partnership. And it could definitely be to a medal.

Maria Kazakova/ Georgy Reviya GEO

Age: 18/20

Started Skating Together: 2017

Coach: Denis Samokhin, Maria Borovikova

Season's Best: 169.22

Rhythm Dance: Take Good Care of My Baby/Dream a Little Dream of Me

Free Dance: In the End

We should probably note that, for the purposes of this preview, we're using their Junior season's best, because these funky little overachievers have also been competing at smaller senior competitions and intend to compete at Euros and Worlds now that they have their TES minimums. Having to split their attention puts them at a bit of a disadvantage compared to their fellow juniors, but does give them a leg up on seniors so it works out. Since they have no domestic competition, it's a risk they can afford to take without fearing getting lost and buried at Nationals. But internationally at the junior level they are more than capable of contending for podium finishes, and the teams they’ll be facing aren’t training two patterns. You win some, you lose some, and they've clearly decided the pros are worth the cons. Their rhythm dance is the program that suffers the most from their multitasking, but it's still a nice program. Their foxtrot section is especially lovely, but historically they've always had some struggles hitting their keypoints. At their first JGP, their level issues in the RD is what kept them from winning the gold over Khudaiberdieva/Filatov, as they won the FD handily. The free dance is their big strength and already a fan favorite. On paper this program is objectively ridiculous. Absolutely nothing about it should work, and if you just describe it you sound like a crazy person, but it all comes together. From the opening where Georgy tosses Maria over his head just for style, to their performance, to the cartwheels in the choreo steps, it's just incredible. We're not sure there's a way to make skating to a rap cover of Linkin Park sound like anything but the most tragic misfire, but if you haven't seen it yet, you really need to. It's not just acrobatic and interesting and cool, it's impressively emotive as well. They're in their last year of junior eligibility and their maturity level is evident in their skating. If the can get all their levels, particularly in the rhythm dance, while skating their amazing free the way we know they can, some of the higher qualified teams might be in for a nasty surprise.

Loicia Demougeot/ Theo Le Mercier FRA

Age: 17/20

Started Skating Together: 2015

Coach: Karrine Arribert-Narce

Season's Best: 162.70

Rhythm Dance: Your Feet's Too Big/How's Ya Baby

Free Dance: Carmen

A French team back in the JGPF! And they are bringing the traditional French ice dance weirdness. Their first two JGP medals and first trip to the JGPF in their fourth JGP season have made this a very successful year for Demougeot/Le Mercier following their first top ten finish at Junior Worlds last season. They won the rhythm dance at their first event and put up one of the highest RD tech scores so far at their second event helping them snag two silvers. It's almost ballroomy but has that dose of classic French wackiness to keep things fresh. Their free dance, inspired by French theatre on ice or not, we do appreciate a good Weird Carmen and this one’s got it all from the music to the costumes to the choreography. They're in character from the first note of the music and carry it all the way through to the end. What keeps it from just being Weird Carmen is their strong sense of musicality and also vision. We can't say we truly get what they're doing but we're certain they do. Their world standing means that they will be skating in the second group for the rhythm dance which could play to their advantage. With their theatricality and commitment, they're sure to hold their own at this event. It's been some time since a French team has made JGPF, and longer since they medaled, but this could be a weekend for surprises.

Diana Davis/ Gleb Smolkin RUS

Age: 16/20

Started Skating Together: 2018

Coach: Igor Shpilband and Pasquale Camerlengo

Season's Best: 160.17

Rhythm Dance: Everybody Wants to Be a Cat

Free Dance: Always Watching You/Love is Gone

Young, new teams tend to grow rapidly, and Davis/Smolkin are no exception. Last season they were entirely respectable, but still learning each other on the ice and focusing on the technicalities of ice dance. A year and a coaching change later and they've settled into each other and developed some real flair and personality, bringing their performance to a whole new level. While we wish they showed the level of commitment of having cat toe bean gloves or just cat themed choreography in general, their rhythm dance ends up being pretty delightful anyway. They've got some really impressive lifts showing off their strength and creativity in a bluesy free dance. It's a nice change of pace from their rhythm dance while still allowing them to show off their improved performance quality and range of emotion. At their second JGP event, they made a silly mistake on the spin that dropped it to base level, and while they did enough in the rhythm dance to hold onto silver and their JGPF spot, it made things dicier than necessary and is why they're the final qualifier. They absolutely have the opportunity to improve on their qualifying position, or even take a swipe at a podium position. Given the cutthroat nature of Russian ice dance at any and all levels, every little bit counts before Nationals. They're a talented team, and we hope to see them skate to their potential and continue to blossom.