#canondivergent

[astrxsee]

FALSE GOD chap. 1

(chap 1) (chap 2) (chap 3)

percy jackson x child of demeter!oc

𝑰𝑵 𝑾𝑯𝑰𝑪𝑯 Rose St. Claire sets off on a quest to save the goddess in chains.

𝑶𝑹

𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑪𝒀 𝑱𝑨𝑪𝑲𝑺𝑶𝑵 learns to see what is right in front of him.

written with heavy influence from rick riordan's book; the titan's curse! all credits go to him!

!CONTENT WARNING! gore, romance, swearing, blood, heavy themes

a/n: hiiiii! posting my first ever fic on tumblr eeeee! this will be a long series that I’ve posted on wattpad as well. i just wanted to post it on here to see how it would do! buckle up and have funnn

I was at true rock bottom. My favorite machine was out of order, I had lost my lotus card in my luxury suite, and karaoke wasn't until Wednesday. I groan as I rub my hand over my face, the slot machine in front of me blinking red. That usually meant it was broken. Worst of all, my friend, Bianca, was no where to be found. I hadn't seen her since breakfast.

  Glancing around at the vast expanse of games in front of me, I frown as I set my sights on a different machine I could try . Dull purple LEDs and blacklights lit my way as I watched other casino goers as they stumbled from game to game. I hear shouts of excitement rise from the craps table to my right and sighs of disappointment from the poker game to my left. Children snake around my ankles, screaming and laughing as they chase each other. I tilt my head as I arrived at a new game I had never seen before; Connect Four. A giant yellow board with checkers was spread out in front of me, along with a flashing green button telling me it was my turn.

  "Rose," I heard from behind me. I whip around to face the voice, smiling. "There you are!"

  "Bianca! I haven't seen you in so long." I exclaimed. My friend smiled at me as she reached out her arms, silently asking for a hug. I supress a laugh as she pulls me in, acting as if we hadn't seen each other for a month.

  "I have been looking for you for like an hour." She draws out, huffing slightly, pulling away from the hug. She all but groans as she rolls her eyes, exaggeration coursing through her movements. I spot her little brother, standing close to her right side, as he shoots me a small wave. I smile at him as he retreats back into Bianca's shadow.

  "I'm sorry, Bi," I begin as I look back at my friend with a smile on my face, "I really was trying to find you, then I got a little sidetracked." Sheepishly laughing as I pointed to the machine off to my right. She waves her hand, telling me that it wasn't a big deal.

"No worries." She responded, absentmindedly. I could see her rocking back and forth on her feet, her tell tale sign of nervousness. She looked as if she wanted to say more.

"Hey, what's up?" I ask her, my eyebrows furrowed in concern. My eyes run over her face, trying to make out anything going on.

"Nothing, I guess I'm just nervous." I knew it. I could feel a small pit grow in my stomach, hating to see my friend worried. She shook her head, glancing around the lively setting.

"I spoke on the phone with our lawyer today." My eyebrows knit further in confusion. 'Why would she be nervous about that?' I thought to myself as a frown makes its way onto my face.

"I just-" She starts, trailing off, trying to find the right words to say. "It was different today than usual, the phone call. She said she was going to come pick us up and take us to school."

My eyes grow wide at her statement. Usually her lawyer calls to check in on the brother and sister's well-being, to see if they're alive. It's always a quick call, with no weight to it. This time, I could tell it was different. Take them to school? What school?

"Wait, what?" I hesitated. "I thought your Dad had sent you here to stay?" Worry evident in my voice. I didn't like change, and this felt like a big change.

"I have no idea. All I know is our lawyer will be here in an hour. She also said that you were to be coming with us." She says, a small smile creeping onto her face. I tilt my head, shooting her a look of disbelief.

"That's not funny, Bianca. Do not get my hopes up." I giggled. She shook her head trying to suppress her own laughter.

"I'm serious, Rosie!" She exclaimed, her hands coming up in a comical 'i'm innocent' motion. "She said she's be here in an hour to take you, Nico, and I to our new school in Maine." At her words, I saw Nico's face fall. His expression a now obvious look of disappointment at the thought of leaving.

"Wait!" I state loudly, drawing out the end of the word. "Why am I coming with you? I mean, I've only met your lawyer like once." Bianca shrugs, her eyes widened in a 'I have no idea either' look.

"Are you sure we have to leave?" I ask as I shake my head. I had been staying here for over a month now and I didn't want to go. I frown as I see her head nod in agreement. "I mean, do we have to go with her? We could just stay here instead of going to school. I like that idea." She nods fervently, agreeing wholeheartedly.

"Me too!" Nico responded, fiddling with a small silver army guy. I smile at him as he moves to stand next to Bianca now. She huffs as she spares a look over to her brother.

"Look, maybe we can convince her to let us stay here, but we should at least go pack." Bianca muttered, looking as if she said it against her will. I groan at the thought of leaving and having to pack. All I wanted was to hang out with Bianca and play games, not leave the hotel I had called home for almost two months.

"Fine." I say reluctantly, sparing a longing glance to the arcade game in front of me. She sends me a begrudging look as she motions for me to follow her.

I had spent the last two months here, my days filled with games, parties, and music. It couldn't get any better. I'd been here since my father dropped me off here on one of his business trips, and I can't seem to remember the reason. I had met Nico on one of my first days here and he quickly introduced me to Bianca. We've been attached by the hip ever since.

We made small talk about the lawyer visiting and what our new school was going to be like. "I bet it's going to be huge!" Nico exclaims. "Like the school on Mount Olympus in Myth-O-Magic!" I crack a smile at his antics.

"I bet it's going to be shit." I mutter under my breath, causing Bianca to suppress a laugh behind her hand. She gives me a look and nods in agreement, trying to hide her actions from her brother. We round the corner on one of the extensive halls in the hotel, the bright lights hurting my eyes. After a couple more minutes we arrive at Bianca and Nico's door. I frown as I meet her gaze.

"Are you sure we have to go, Bianca?" I whispered, looking down at my feet. She nods and puts a gentle hand on my shoulder.

"I'm sure, Rosie. This will be a good change, I have a good feeling." She says giving me a reassuring smile. I don't know what I would do without her, even though I was two years older than her it seemed as if she had been around for longer, an older soul.

"Meet us at the front door in thirty minutes." Bianca insisted, stepping into the door frame of her and Nico's suite. I see Nico sheepishly smile at me before pulling the door closed.

I smile as I turn on my heel, humming a familiar song. Maybe this will be a good change. I guess it would be kind of nice to get some fresh air, but yet again, I think I like the air of my suite just fine. Bianca was right, it'll be a good change, at least that's what I tell myself.

I make my way up a couple floors and stop in front of my door, swiping my lotus card on the handle. None of the hotels from back home had that. I swing the door open, music instantly meeting my ears. Fleetwood Mac's Landslide makes its way into my ears. I sigh as I look forlornly to the bag laying haphazardly in the corner. The room is lit up with the various lamps stowed away in the corners of the room, as my blankets sit peacefully on my soft bed. I quickly walk over to my bag, quickly pulling out the clothes from my drawers.

I could feel a funny feeling rising up in my stomach. It twists as I think about finally stepping out of this place and that I will have to go back to the real world. My stomach surges as I think about having to go back to school. I know I won't be able to fit in. I was never able to fit in before, I could never escape the 'weirdo' narrative my peers set onto me. They would make fun of me as flowers seemed to follow me wherever I went. If I was excited, daisies would pop out of the ground. If I was sad, plants in a close radius would begin to wilt. No one knew why, and neither did I. I just wanted to be normal.

I sigh as I stuff the last thing into the tattered bag I had brought with me into the casino. I quickly throw on my bomber jacket, adorned with american flag patches and pins from various rock bands. It was my most special possession, but I couldn't seem to remember why.

Glancing around the room, I grab my bag as I head for the door, turning around one last time. I step out of my room, closing the door behind me. I trudge forward, ready to face whatever was in front of me.

[bilbobagginshome]

A Deadbeat’s Journal 24

A Jotaro kujo x black reader fic!

Jotaro’s POV.

Leaving Samosa is almost equally as painful as leaving Y/n and I mean it because I’m her favourite. When Mom Faith invited me for dinner, I sensed that she knew something because as much as she cares about me, she cares more about her daughter’s well-being. And I was right.

“So, How’ve you been coping alone now that y/n is gone?” Mom Faith asks while cutting through her plate of lasagna.

“It's been sad, I can’t lie. I call her every day but I guess having a housemate as chaotic as she is bound to fill a hole when she’s gone.”I calmly reply though honestly, I keep reviewing my sentences like an editing app.

“I mean it should be, your girlfriend is gone.” Grandma Rhoda adds with a knowing chuckle. Well, at least we aren’t beating around the bush and honestly, It’s a hefty weight lifted off my chest.

“That was fast. Y/n did anticipate this but honestly, I still underestimated how quickly you’d find out.” I chuckle back. The less they think I’m phased, the better.

“I mean, walking around with matching rings is definitely a mark,” Grandma replies with a smirk whilst pointing at my koi. At this point, I’m avoiding heavy eye contact with Mom Faith who's staring me down with the most expressionless face I’ve seen. Do I look like that when other people are around me?

“So what are your intentions with y/n?”She questions. Isn’t that a tough one? Well definitely saying that I want to marry her within the year would turn her neutral face to a scowl in an instant. My intrusive thoughts want me to say a dirty joke but that will end with thrashing from them.

“I want to be with her for as long as she’ll let me,” I say while looking at her. She likes assertiveness, this would make her see that I’m serious.

She nods with a small smile. Jackpot. 

“I’d ask that we keep this conversation between us. I don’t want y/n think I’m prying too much into her business.” She requests. It seems fair, considering she’s been a bit of a peeping tom throughout y/n’s life. Plus I’m grateful she did not request more information.

“Though I am very happy she ended up with you. She needs someone to keep her happy and you may be what she was missing.” She ends with a wider smile, her tone now much more softer despite its seeming monotony. What a surprise, it seems my charms have even been able to win her over and I simply nod in response. After serving French vanilla and a wonderfully made salted caramel cake made by Grandma, we head to the backyard and talk.

I was genuinely enjoying my time listening to Granny’s to the point that I never realised how late it was. And when they insisted on me staying, I decided that my cold, loveless home would be better than their warm, jovial household. Besides, I need to put some things in order like turning the house into either an Airbnb or simply placing a caretaker.

* * *

The house is very lonely. Even as I gave the real estate agent, courtesy of Mom Faith, the house keys, he could tell that I didn’t want to be there anymore. I see the couch and remember countless Netflix marathons. The kitchen shared multiple times we’d cook beside one another. Colourful ceramic pots, throw blankets, and artwork littered around the area after she saw the apartment for the first time and described it as ‘the place where all life dies’ seemed even less saturated. It would be best if I let a travel agent handle the AirBnB business.

The yacht is decently sized. At first, I thought buying such a large yacht was useless but after staying in it for a few days, I realise now that the seller wasn’t trying to get a cash grab. The kitchen faced the ocean, but to be fair almost all parts of the yacht now face the ocean and come fully equipped with an oven, cooker, and microwave plus a booth on the wall on the side that could comfortably have a sleeping Y/n. The bedroom too has a wide window that sees the ocean and the bed that comes alongside it can comfortably sleep, me, y/n, and Samosa. Though the room is a tight fit and only has a 24-inch smart TV, It's better as you have access to a shower and toilet.

I always find myself reading some of her books. She gave me the hobbit and said that I’ll heavily relate to Bilbo Baggins and no one outside my mom has made an accurate prediction of how I enjoy my hobbit lifestyle. I mean I bought a yacht because I couldn’t stand the thought of going around the coasts with a backpack and a dream. Like, imagine how tiring that would be. Gandalf should have just let Bilbo stay home.

Occasionally I’d check my bearings, ensure I’m not going astray and sometimes when I’m really bored I stop to fish. It's been three days and when I see the inklings of Zanzibar I almost jumped for joy like a stranded cruiser. They say the first three days are tough on your own but this was intense. I almost thought I got my bearings wrong and kept checking my compass. The signal out here is horrible at times and can’t use google maps for that . Besides, who uses google maps in the middle of the ocean. I quickly park my yacht where all the others are and take my backpack. 

The host left the keys in the flower pot besides the gate, which was appreciated and thus I began surveying the one bedroomed household. Its cute, with furniture that doesn’t stary from cream and brown with a large bookshelf that I’m slightly envious of. By tomorrow I should have recouped and headed to the research group based nearby.

Third person Narration.

When Jotaro arrived at the research centre , which was bigger and definitely busier given the space, he slightly clammed up as he got off the Tuktuk. The building was beautifully designed with glass floor to ceiling walls despite being only a single story and the top was crafted to replicate the blue tides of the oceanside nearby. Definitely a far cry from the wooden box back home .

After clearing his throat , he approached the receptionist inside and after stating his business, was given a visitors pass and redirected to an acquaintance he began conversing through in email while back home. After politely greeting a few people who cared to acknowledge his presence, he knocked at Dr, AbdulSwahib’s door.

“Oh welcome, here I have a seat , would you like some tea or perhaps coffee?” AbdulSwahib greeted with a smile and a warm handshake to which he gladly accepted a cup of tea.

AbdulSwahib or as he would simply like to be referred as Swahib is a short man with greying hair and a prominent  bald spot that reflects the well lit room like a polished silver saucer. He keeps his beard well trimmed and always dons a buttoned white  lab coat  and trousers with black loafers which complement his light brown skin. His round face shows little of his ageing body aside from crow marks at the sides of his eyes and the thick, silver framed glasses.

After sipping a nice masala tea with cookies which Swahib insisted he should try courtesy of his wife , they got to business.

“I read your research on the natural cleansing methods of the ocean and their various misconceptions that arose from that and I ‘d like to say your solution is one of the most practical, cost effective measures on preventing the increasing issues of climate change and pollution of the ocean.” He began with a congratulatory note. Jotaro returns with a small smile in appreciation and slight embarrassment over his work for the past 2 years.

“I appreciate that , however I’m more interested to hear your dispute over my first thesis of the starfish, you said you had come across groundbreaking discoveries that may affect the dating of my work.” He responds. A while back , the biologists at Zanzibar claimed that the discovery of a seemingly extinct starfish had been found and thus after research, they questioned whether the new information provided with Jotaro’s ideas of  starfish evolution can be disputed . Mind you , this won him his first award on marine research at a time he was still considered a rookie.

“Well , yes , see , I think that it's best for you to see this for yourself. We have captured only one but the rest of the colony is reachable, though further .” He says as he stands up. Jotaro finishes his tea and rises alongside him and while getting to the aquarium within the end of the hall, Jotaro simply earns curious glances while Swahib is warmly greeted . When they arrive , they see a group of white coat individuals, most likely students given their hold on their notepads and pens as they all try to get a look at the starfish that has hidden within one of the makeshift caves of the large semi circular aquarium. Jotaro , however, is stunned by the variety of fish and other sea creatures and plants and due to the aquarium’s size and dim lighting, the cream walls seem to reflect the blue waters of the aquarium .

“I should at least acknowledge how stunning the display is.” He compliments.

“Thank you, though it seems a bit vain to keep  them here, we try as much as possible to keep them from experiencing little. That’s why we only have very little fish.” He says before kindly requesting the students for some space to see the starfish .

Jotaro is led to see a simply ugly creature to say the least. It most certainly seems like an ancient species , with a dirt grey colour but larger than anything he’s ever seen . Its stubs look like tiny wounds poking around its body and despite the ame, this starfish has an irregular star shape that looks more like a splutter of dirt on a clean surface, Yet , Jotaro was fascinated, asking radio fire questions of its origin , feeding habits , its breathing method and what not . After a full lecture of what they have found of the starfish which leads to an almost hour-long lecture where Jotaro and students write down almost every detail the short man shared, they are advised by the cleaning crew to leave the aquarium for its daily cleaning. 

“That was a wonderful talk despite how impromptu it was.” Jotaro says in a fascinated tone after Swahib disperses the group of aspiring marine biologists to their mentor.

“Well, this old man should be good for something now that I’m almost retiring .” He politely responds . As Swahib shows him around the rest of the building , Joatro seems more at ease , chuckling whenever he makes a pun and attentively listening to Swahib’s theories on the nature of the elusive starfish. Soon, he is led to the canteen , where lunch is currently taking place. They are served mashed potatoes, a kale-spinach fried dish and steak lathered with gravy sauce. The lunch lady cuts him a larger  portion because ‘He seems to have the appetite of two grown men’ and they sit next to Swahib’s much younger colleagues, similar to age with Jotaro,

“This is Jotaro Kujo,  a humble young man who has come to see the grey baby.” He introduces Jotaro as they sit down .

“Oh, Pleasure.” One of the only two women seated at the table of seven says before biting into her mashed potatoes and gravy.

The others simply respond the same with a smile and Jotaro returns the pleasantries.

“So , Jotaro, I read that you are receiving another award for your recent research.”One of the male colleagues, Hassan, inquires.

“Really ? I know nothing of the sort.” He responds calmly , while cutting his steak up to smaller portions.

“Haven’t you received an email for the upcoming marine appreciation gala held next year?” Suleiman curiously asks.

“I am yet to check my email, I haven’t been really accessible for a while.” He responds ,while he enjoys eating the food before him.

“He’s circumnavigating Africa on his own , on a personal research tour. How dedicated.” Swahib interjets with a tone Jotaro could only detect as proud.

He is greeted with praise and admiration for his job and after finishing their lunch , he explains to them his goal and ambitions once he reaches the final destination. This thus sprouts of further discussions on him writing an introductory textbook for aspiring marine biologists or  just enthusiasts of the subject . Afterwards , they excuse themselves back to their duties, promising to cheer him on when he receives his new award. 

Swahib leads him back to the entrance of the building and says 

“I’ve never met a biologist willing to navigate his faults on a  subject he  perceived as an expert in.”

“I enjoy learning , and I feel like this career is filled with daily new revelations that break our current ideas . I find  that even more exciting.” He replies while rubbing the back of his head.

“It's comforting knowing that the next generation has such an open minded perspective in being wrong. I��m glad I met you before I retired.” Swahib calmly says with a smile.

“I’m also glad I met you. I read an article of yours way back when in a barbershop and it influenced me on becoming a marine biologist. I could feel your enthusiasm for orcas through simple texts and felt that marine biology may be a worthwhile pursuit.” Jotaro admitted in a nostalgic tone.

“Well I’m glad you liked it . I remember very little of what I wrote but remember how my colleagues teased that it seemed like a love letter to those majestic beasts.” Swahib says with a wide smile that shows off his father’s smile.

Swahib lightly hugs Jotaro in appreciation for ‘Seeing a washed up old man’ and calls a tuktuk for him,

By the time Jotaro reaches home, he is called by his mom 

“How is your first destination going?”She questions after usual telephone pleasantries

“Surprisingly enjoyable, I might have even found a new research project to write about.” He says while lying on the reclining couch.

“That was fast , Hold on, your dad wants to talk to you .” She responds while handing the phone to Sadao

“Good evening Jotaro, I hope you had a pleasant day.” He lowly says with his usual blase tone.

“Good evening dad, It seems you are home more often.” He calmly replies.

“I’m growing older , can’t do the same thing you youthful ones are constantly doing ,” He responds.

“So what’s up,” He asks while drinking a cup of water.

“I heard you got with the l/n girl . I wanted to say congratulations for that .”

“Does everyone already know we are dating? No wonder y/n seemed reserved on telling anyone.” He mutters in slight annoyance.

“Well, you told Rhoda , who told Joestar, who told Holly , who excitedly told  me.” He replays the stream of gossip with a slight chuckle.

“Though she does seem like a handful so you better tie the knot soon. I remember her being a bit flighty when younger.” He adds

“Dad, she’s not a possession.” He says in a warning tone.

“Of course , I didn’t mean it like that . I ‘m just happy you found someone after years of solitude and hope you don’t lose her through a long distance relationship.” He responds lightly despite the slight tension.

“I won’t.” He reassures.

“So how’s work?” Sadao changes topic.

And after a thirty minute talk discussing the day alongside his dad and mom, he cuts the call and heads for a well reserved shower and makes a small salad to eat with his ordered smoked salmon. After the energy boost , he goes over his notes and begins formulating a new research project based on the starfish who has been affectionately named Kanzu for its shape.

Then he calls y/n when comfortably on his bed which is way softer than the one in the yacht and calls y/n.

* * *

Y/n spends the first of her free time outside work attempting to create a schedule. Her mom’s counsel “Aingiaye mwituni, atarejea na kuni.” (The person who goes to the forest will come back with firewood.) echoes loudly at the back of her mind and she spends the entire time cooking , cleaning and basically making herself busy. When Patience and Abdul get back they find a freshly cooked meal, the aroma of the simmering dish still floating around the house and a bored to death Y/n watching tv once again.

“You’ve got to get out of your boring ass funk. You’re in a whole new country and rather than explore the culture you sit around watching Portuguese dubbed content rather than going out there , conversing with actual Brazillians and internalising their culture.” Patience muses as they finishes up their broth, their sides of the mouth oily from drinking it straight from the bowl.Ahmed simply looks down at their friends table mannerisms before adding to the thought with a smile

“Yep, so that’s why you should go for an in-class Portuguese lesson.” 

“No and be surrounded by white people who only know ‘oi’ and say how much they love Brazilian culture.” She responds, nose scrunched simply at the thought.

“Pot calling kettle black. Don’t knock them out because they go a step further and admit their failings and learn when all you’ve done since quitting is attempt at conversing google translated portuguese.”Patience muses with a smirk as they rise to help Abdul wash the dishes.Abdul simply laughs at the call out and Y/n , slightly embarrassed stays silent

* * *

“Good morning class. My name is Ramirez and I will be teaching you the intermediate course of the CELPE-Bras Intermediate course certification. Since this is an immersive course throughout class I do not expect anyone to speak english throughout the lesson. Failure to do so would be a strike. Consider it like football, and if you get to the red cut, consider yourself expelled and your deposit non refundable.Now let's get to it.” He said with a blinding white smile. 

Y/n , though dating, is well aware that her teacher is attractive with his golden brown eyes that sparkle when the sun bounces off their reflection just right, 6 '0 foot with an eye for more delicate wear like his current wear, a  linen shirt and khaki shorts. Tanned, light skinned with diamond studded earrings and with a buzzcut that if you know, you know. Overall, Y/n’s type down to his Nike Jordans and when he catches her , smiles at her and all she thinks is “I need a wallet sized photo of Jotaro within my vicinity”

The first class goes on well, she almost stumbles a bit and yet he’s the most attentive teacher, guiding her calmly when she’s unable to articulate her questions well and seems to enjoy her more introspective questions, After the three hour session, she is entirely content and despite her worksheet assignment and the presentation due date on Friday , she’s happy with the lesson.

One of her classmates a blue eyed American with blonde curls that make her look like a barbie doll says,

“Isn't he dreamy? Dear lord when I saw him walk in, I almost fainted. Completely forgot I had a man till the end of the lesson.”She says in a very classic Southern accent.

“He sure is handsome.” Y/n responds with a slight smile as they walk out of the building. 

“Handsome? he’s the kind of guy that is straight from a wattpad fanfic.” She sighs out.

“I don’t think your man would like to hear that from you.” Y/n responds with a chuckle.

“He’s bi, he’d ask for a photo of Mcdreamy instead.”She responds with a smile . Y/n laughs at that and as they converse in the parking lot about small details in her life , they spot their stunning professor walking out of the building,briefcase in one hand to his Aston Martin.

Britney wolf-whistles in acknowledgement and as he looks back , notices them and heads to their direction.

“Good afternoon ladies. I hope you enjoyed today’s lesson.”He says with a smile.

“Was a lot more bearable with you as a teacher.” Britney says flirtatiously and he simply gives a close smile and turns to Y/n.

“What about you Mrs Y/n , did you enjoy it?”

“Yes I did . I appreciate your attentiveness to me despite my many questions. And it’s Miss not Mrs.”She says with a small smile.

“Oh , I noticed  the ring and just assumed . I’m sorry for misinterpreting.” He says with a bigger smile.

“No, it's fine.”

“Would you, you both I mean, like a lift?He questions while looking straight at Y/n.

“I’ll be dropping this pretty little minx home.” Britney responds with a smirk.

“Anyway , see you ladies tomorrow. And Mrs Britney. Tone down the flirting in the middle of class.” Ramirez warns light-heartedly.

“Will consider!” She cheerfully shouts back as he walks into his car.

Once the swoosh of his car leaves the sparsely parked lot ,she turns to Y/n and says with a knowing smirk,

“I think wonder boy has a thing for you.”

“Girl please just take me home.”

A shorter chapter. This one I’m not really liking it but whatevs. 

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[honey-makes-mogai]

[Image ID: A MOGAI flag with nine equal horizontal stripes. From top to bottom, the colors in order are: brown, tan, cornflower blue, dusty blue, gray, dusty blue, cornflower blue, tan, brown. /End ID]

Canondivergic -

[PT: Canondivergic -]

A gender related to being canon divergent! This may be with fictionkin, introjects, constels, or anything else that falls under this! This may also be related to simply feeling canon divergent without it being tied to anything else!

Tagging: @radiomogai @obscurian @the-mogai-archives

[Banner ID: A pastel yellow banner with a sunflower on either side. In brown text with a white outline, it says "- Please let me know if this has been coined before! -" /End ID.]

[DNI transcript: "-DNI- Basic criteria, anti-mogai, proshippers, ableists, aphobes, racists, zoophiles, rpf shippers, fandom discourse, under 13, transid/transx". /End transcript.]

[daxai123]

Always Led Back to You, an UnOrdinary fanfiction - Dark Reality (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1025863793-always-led-back-to-you-an-unordinary-fanfiction?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=uchihafeline John Doe/Seraphina Starts chapter 211, but there are FASTPASS SPOILERS for 212-214 Seraphina has reached her limit and knows she can't sit by and watch John destroy himself and take the rest of Wellston with him. With the promise of getting her powers back, she decides to take the risk despite everyone's warnings. However, something goes wrong, and Seraphina wakes up in her younger body, and the reality of John's era as King at New Bostin being an approaching storm. creator karin ochibi chan...... i humbly request the creator to finish this story

[aftgficlibrary]

Set after Neil’s mom dies, Neil gets arrested for fake ID. Neil goes to juvie where Andrew becomes his roommate. They play on the juvie exy team together. Dobson is also there as the juvie counsellor.

found it! -rocky

Oakland by AgentCoop (M | Incomplete | 30/?)

When Neil Josten gets arrested for a fake ID and thrown into the Juvenile Detention System, he knows that he's running on borrowed time before his father's men catch up. His mother is dead, there's nowhere to run, there's nothing left at all but an Exy court at the Oakland County Detention Center that he has to earn the right to play on through good behavior. And Neil's never been great at obeying rules. *** An Andriel AU where the boys meet as teens in Juvie.

/Graphic Depictions of Violence

[ghoulelegy]

In The Breeze of the Autumn Leaves

Chapter 1 - Smother

Caught in the unexpected rain without an umbrella, your day seemed destined for a soaking start. But then, a glimmer of hope emerged in the form of a stranger, a shining light in the misty morning. As you shared an umbrella, the casual conversation quickly evolved into a profound connection, and you sensed that this unexpected encounter might alter the course of your day, and perhaps even your life.

Chapter 1 wordcount: 5k

Thank you @jimothybarnes, @em0bussy and @creatura-theanarchist for the wonderful support you have shown.

It was one of those days. The ones that made you groan with anguish when your alarm blared. One of those days where not even your puppy’s kisses could force you into a better mood. One of those days when class started at 9 a.m. but to your surprise the moment you opened the curtains and peered outside; you were greeted by an unexpected sight – a thick, swirling fog that seemed to have descended upon the world overnight. It wrapped itself around the trees and houses, obscuring everything in a milky haze. The weather had cast a hazy spell not only on the world outside but on your own senses as well. As you stood there, taking in the surreal sight, you became acutely aware of the throbbing ache in your head. With a sense of trepidation, you brushed your feeble hand against the deliquescent window, the condensation forming small, ephemeral rivers under your touch.

The fog had a way of captivating your imagination, much like the works of Coleridge and Wordsworth, two literary titans who had found a permanent place on your endless reading list. As you gazed out at the mist-shrouded world, it stirred a longing for the poetic and the mysterious, the very essence of these authors' writings.

Just a glance behind you lays Juno, you found her nestled cosily underneath her favourite blanket in her bed (which was propped right next to your bed) – it was yours when you were barely able to walk and speak, and now you couldn’t help but donate it to your little furry companion. She looked like the picture of contentment, her soft snores filling the room with a soothing rhythm. She occasionally twitched and whined in her sleep, a testimony to her puppyhood.

But what caught your attention, and brought a smile to your face, was the sight of Juno resting her tiny puppy head on her beloved teddy bear. It was a gift you had given her when she first arrived home. She had taken to it immediately, and since then, she was rarely seen without her faithful teddy bear by her side.

It was a source of comfort and security for Juno, a symbol of your enduring bond. As you watched her snuggle against the softness of her beloved bear, you couldn't resist the urge to lean down and place a gentle kiss on her forehead. It was really the least you could do, she was such a loyal companion. You noticed yourself breaking into an even wider smile when her tail gave a little wag in response as if to affirm the affection you hold towards her.

You turn, leaving the pup to her peaceful slumber. After making sure her water bowl was full you tiptoed out of the room, making a silent promise to return for her evening walk once the day's classes had concluded. As you ventured further into the apartment, you slung your backpack over your shoulders, feeling its familiar weight settle against your back. It was a constant inanimate companion, carrying the weight of your books, notes, laptop, and the knowledge you sought to acquire.

Stepping outside, you were met with a profound change in the atmosphere that sent shivers down your spine. The air, though heavier, possessed an almost intoxicating quality, like a fine mist of enchantment that clung to your skin. It wrapped around you like an embrace, caressing your senses with its cool, dewy tendrils. Each inhalation was a delicate dance as you tasted the earthy sweetness it carried. It was as if the very essence of the hidden world had been distilled into this fog, a blend of earth, moisture, and an ineffable magic that held you captive. The scent was so captivating that you couldn't resist taking deep, deliberate breaths, allowing it to fill your lungs and awaken your senses. You had hoped that the air would whisk away your grogginess.

The descent of the haze had cast a spell not only on the world outside but also on your own perceptions. As you ventured further from your sanctuary, you felt its influence on your consciousness. You couldn't help but become acutely aware of the persistent ache in your head, a throbbing reminder of the atmospheric changes. It was as if it had seeped into your mind, clouding your thoughts and casting a dreamlike quality over your surroundings. Each step you took was a deliberate and sensory experience as if you were navigating through a realm of half-formed dreams.

The dew-kissed path beneath your feet added to the sensory symphony, its surface cool and slightly yielding, like a plush carpet that cradled your steps. The tiny droplets that clung to the blades of grass glistened like liquid diamonds in the soft, diffused light of air. The visibility was limited to just a few metres, and everything beyond that was lost in a sea of grey ambiguity.

The empty bus stop stood as a solitary sentinel in this misty landscape, a place of arrival and departure, where the past met the future. The weathered wooden bench, now damp to the touch, welcomed you as you slouched against it, pulling your jacket tighter around you to fend off the chill.

You were lost in the grasp of your music blasting through your headphones, unaware of the presence of another person until a voice broke through the eerie silence. The fog made it difficult for the sign to be read, and you turn around to see a stranger standing before you, clad in red, had arrived, seeking directions.

"Um…excuse me? Is this the…bus stop for Route 12? I can’t see the sign properly," the voice, laced with uncertainty, reached your ears. You adjusted your headphones, allowing them to rest against your neck.

"Ah, yes, should be," you replied, your voice carrying a touch of contrasting confidence. Your gaze met that of the stranger, a man you hadn't seen before. Despite the haze making it difficult to make out his details his appearance was out of place at this early hour and remote bus stop. His scarlet overcoat and hat gave him an air of mystery as if he were a character from a noir film rather than a fellow passenger.

The area around his eyes seemed perpetually shrouded in shadows, casting a mysterious allure over his features. Dark and hazy, those enigmatic eyes bore witness to a hidden world of secrets and contemplation. Their depths held a complexity that was both intriguing and inviting, drawing you into the depths of his thoughts and emotions.

What truly captured your attention, however, were his heterochromatic eyes—one a pristine shade of alabaster white, the other a mesmerizing emerald green. This striking duality added an air of enchantment to his gaze as if he carried a piece of both the ethereal and the earthly within him. The white eye held an enigmatic purity, like freshly fallen snow in a moonlit forest. It seemed to gaze into the realms of the unknown with a serene wisdom as if it had witnessed the passage of centuries. On the other hand, the green eye was a vibrant testament to nature's beauty, shimmering like the leaves of a dense forest. It sparkled with a glint of curiosity that danced like dappled sunlight through the trees, inviting you to explore the depths of his soul.

A gentle rumble in the distance signalled the approach of a rain shower. You glanced at your backpack, a sudden realization filling you with dread: you had forgotten your umbrella. The decision before you was now clear – return home to retrieve the forgotten item and miss your bus or brave the impending rain and get wet.

"Why are you like this?" you muttered to yourself, half in exasperation and half in resignation. It was a question you often posed, a reflection of your tendency to prioritize the present moment's comfort over future convenience. Of course, you forgot your umbrella on the only day it seemed it was going to rain.

With a reluctant sigh, you made your choice, silently cursing the unpredictable nature of life and weather as you stood there, waiting for the bus to arrive. The droplets began teetering down larger and bigger. You desperately looked around for some shelter, a tree or an awning, anything to protect you from the impending rain. But in the fog's embrace, everything seemed elusive and distant.

The raindrops grew heavier, creating a steady percussion that echoed through the misty urban landscape. As you navigated through the wet streets, lost in your thoughts, the stranger's voice broke through the ambient sounds. Their nasally and unsure tone carried a surprising warmth, a hint of genuine sympathy that resonated with the melancholy of the rainy day.

"Would you perhaps... like to share my umbrella?" the stranger offered, their eyes reflecting a sincere willingness to provide solace in the midst of the downpour.

Caught off guard by the unexpected kindness, you turned to face them. The umbrella, a simple yet profound gesture, was extended towards you, creating an unspoken pact in the rain-soaked anonymity of the city.You turned to look at him, surprised by the unexpected offer. It was a gesture of kindness in the midst of uncertainty. Not like you had much choice now, it was either that or get soaked. You stared at him once more and concluded that he didn't seem to have any ill intentions, and his eyes, despite the sheer strangeness of them, held a genuine sincerity.

"Ah, thank you," you replied, relief washing over you as you accepted the offer. The stranger extended the umbrella towards you, and you huddled beneath its protective canopy as the rain intensified. The two of you stood there, side by side, awkwardly shuffling around in the rain.

"It's…no problem really," the stranger said, his voice warm despite its initial uncertainty. "I've…been there."

The rain continued to fall, and you heard the gentle thudding against the fabric of the umbrella. But it was fine. You no longer had to worry about getting to class late or arriving soaked and bedraggled.

“So uhm…lovely weather we’re having.” was the only thing you could think to blurt out. You internally cringe at how dumb and cliché that sounded. You didn’t particularly enjoy small talk, but you didn’t know how to make this any less awkward. Your thoughts drifted back to Juno, and how snuggly she seemed before you left her that morning. You wished you could lay in bed with a hot chocolate and a blanket just watching your favourite show, but alas, life had other plans.

“Heh, lovely indeed, if you're a fan of fog and rain. It's got a certain cosy charm, don't you think?” was the response of the man. He was also clearly trying to make you feel less awkward. His left hand, the one adorned with elegant black gloves was gripping the handle of the umbrella and fidgeting restlessly with it.

“Oh..yes yes for sure. It’s…nice.” You continued. You shuffle your feet a little, as you notice the way the water puddled around them.

“Well, 'nice' might be one way to describe it. So, are you from around here?” was the question that followed from the man.

“No…I just moved here.” was your answer as you shiver slightly from the chill in the air “Like a month ago.”

“Ah..I see. University student, I presume? Many of the younger folks who move here are uni students.” You couldn’t help but notice how nasally yet warm his voice sounded.

“Yeah yeah, exactly” you mutter once more, pulling your jacket a little bit closer to you. You started to regret not getting a raincoat or at least a scarf. When will this darn bus arrive?

“What are you studying? Wait uhh…let me guess…Computer science?”

You shake your head, in genuine surprise.

“English,” you say.

"English, huh? That's interesting! I wouldn't have guessed that, but it's great that you're pursuing what you're passionate about. Any favourite authors or books you're really into at the moment?"

“I—” You struggle with listing anything. Your frustration was palpable as you searched your brain to come up with a response. You couldn't understand why it was so difficult to think of an author or book you were currently into. It was as if the dense fog had also settled in your mind, obscuring your thoughts and memories.

Before you could answer you notice a faint boxy outline. A mustard bus with a luminescent sign saying “Route 12” pulls out in front of you. The doors open to the side, and you move to board. As the stranger waddled onto the bus behind you, the atmosphere shifted from the misty bus stop to the confined space of public transportation. To your dismay, it was already pretty full. You supposed that more people chose to use the public transport system instead of walking or biking that morning.

The interior was bathed in a subdued, artificial light that contrasted starkly with the foggy outdoors. The soft, muted hum of the bus's engine provided a constant undertone, which oddly enough usually served as a reassuring reminder of the vehicle's constant motion.

Passengers occupied the narrow rows of seats, some engrossed in their smartphones or books, while others gazed absently out the obscured windows, their expressions ranging from weariness to contemplation which made the bus seem more like a transitional space, a liminal zone where individuals retreated into their thoughts.

There were only 2 sets of seats that were free. The seats, upholstered in faded, patterned fabric, bore the marks of countless commuters, showing signs of wear and tear. You slid into the innermost seat, near the window, your view obscured by the thick brume clinging to the glass. It served as a barrier between the insular world inside the bus and the enigmatic world outside. You turn around, not before you notice the stranger from earlier looking around.

“You can sit next to me if you’d like”, you motion. You notice him smiling before he hurriedly puffed out a “thank you.”

As he settled in next to you, you couldn't help but notice the smudged, dark makeup circles under his eyes. His medium brown hair, neatly combed back, spoke of a certain effort put into his appearance despite the early hour. You just sat near him, attempting to stare out the window like your usual hobby during the morning bus ride when you simply didn’t feel like walking. But you found your attention being hogged by the world inside the bus.

Its interior was infused with a melange of scents—subtle traces of cologne, the aroma of coffee carried by a fellow passenger, and a faint, underlying scent of worn fabric and the warmth of human presence.

Despite the mundane backdrop, there was a palpable sense of anticipation in the air, a collective energy as everyone aboard headed toward their respective destinations. It was a morning tableau, a snapshot of daily life in transit, where strangers briefly intersected before branching off into their own separate narratives.

“So where are you heading?” you ask, grateful you’re no longer shivering.

“University library. I got uhh..some books to return. Some research to do.”

“What are you researching on?” curiosity piqued.

“Medieval history, plague science. That stuff.” was his response. You couldn’t help but notice his accent, how it was so nasally yet unique. How his inflections rise and fall with every word he speaks.

"That sounds really cool, albeit a bit dark with the plague science part," you reply, trying to engage in the conversation despite the close quarters. He does look like a guy who studies in that sort of stuff, with his pencil moustache and sideburns "Medieval history must be quite fascinating. Are you a historian?"

“Ah no, just researching. For a project I’m working on.”

“Ahh…I see” you mutter.

“Yeah…I like that sort of stuff. I find the medieval era…molto molto interessante. Si, si.”

Did he just speak Italian?

You clearly must've shown your surprise in your looks because he automatically shuffled, a subtle awkwardness accompanying the movement.

“Ah, sorry, I tend to switch to Italian sometimes hehe” was his awkward response.

“You’re Italian?” you ask.

“Ah..no. I can speak it. I spent some time in Italy. My brother speaks it better than me, however.”

"So, spending time in Italy, that's fascinating. Must have been quite an experience," you comment, trying to keep the conversation flowing.

"Yeah, it was. I stayed there for a few months, mostly in Florence and Rome," he replies with a nostalgic smile. "Beautiful places with rich histories. It really ignited my passion for medieval history and art."

You nod in agreement, appreciating his enthusiasm for the subject. "I visited not too long ago. Only for a week though. But the art and history there are incredible. I really want to go to Rome someday though.”

He seems to warm up to the conversation now, perhaps realizing your genuine interest. "You should definitely go to Rome if you get the chance. The food is amazing too, of course," he adds with a chuckle.

“Oh no, definitely” you add.

“So…about this project?” you wondered.

“Ah well…I don’t know how to explain this. It’s…not exactly something typical.”

“Does it have to do with your makeup? Which, by the way, it’s very cool. Weird. I like it.”

“Ah…grazie, grazie. Um. Sort of. I’m…a cardinal”.

“Wait what?” Looking at him, he did actually look like a cardinal. The red coat and biretta in his hand. But you weren’t aware of any catholic cardinals in your area. Don’t they live in Rome? That would explain why he was in Rome.

“Not a catholic cardinal” he continues.

Oh. That makes more sense. Until it didn’t. You weren’t aware of any other religion that had cardinals.

“What kind of cardinal are you then?”

“Satanic cardinal. Don’t worry I’m not going to sacrifice you.”

"Satanism, huh?" you respond, your curiosity piqued. "I've actually read a bit about it. It's quite intriguing as a religion, isn't it? Despite all the harmful stereotypes, I've found it to be rather different from what people typically think. Not that I've met many Satanists before."

Copia smiles appreciatively at your open-mindedness. "Yes, it's definitely a misunderstood belief system. We don't fit the stereotypes that often get portrayed in the media. It's all about individualism, personal growth, and critical thinking. And yes, the face paint is part of the aesthetic."

“Pleasure to meet you then, Cardinal” you politely extend your hand.

“Oh no, just call me Copia.” He shakes your hand. He was half expecting you to give him a couple of dirty looks after he announced himself as a satanic Cardinal. But he was pleasantly surprised when you didn’t. He took your bare hand with both his gloved ones. He felt so warm against your freezing fingertips.

The bus came to a halt, and you both stood up, ready to disembark. The university campus awaited, and the rain had mercifully reduced to a drizzle, making the impending walk to class more

manageable. As you stepped off the bus, Copia's presence was a curious blend of warmth and enigma. The satanic cardinal's umbrella, now a familiar companion, shielded you from the residual raindrops as you traversed the campus grounds.

"Thank you for your companionship," Copia spoke softly, his words carrying a sincerity that resonated beyond the mundane context of a bus journey.

"Thank YOU for the umbrella. I would've gotten drenched without it," you replied, grateful for the unexpected assistance from this intriguing figure.

"Ah, really, it wasn't a problem. Just trying to help whenever people need," Copia humbly remarked. The contrast between the enigmatic cardinal and the casual student setting was oddly charming. Together, you ventured into the university, a student and a satanic cardinal, an unlikely duo brought together by the chance encounter on a rainy day.

As you settled into your morning class, you noticed the seemingly quieter lecture hall which was normally bustling with students engaging in discussion and queries. It just felt awfully subdued today, as if everyone collectively decided to take the morning off. The lights were also on, blaring on your face like the second coming of Christ as the light coming in from the many windows simply wasn’t enough.

Your professor delved into the intricacies of Shakespearean tragedy, as is typical with English class. What was usually a class with eager students and discussions of tragic flaws, conflicts, and catharsis today was just the professor's ramblings and musings. Not that they weren’t interesting but today you found yourself mentally drifting into a different realm, pondering the enigmatic figure who had shared the bus with you. The kind stranger who offered you an umbrella and his unconventional identity challenged your preconceived notions, much like the complex characters in Shakespearean tragedies who grapple with their own inner conflicts and moral dilemmas.

It wasn't just the physical emptiness of the room that weighed on you; it was the emotional void that had settled in your heart. You longed for the lively debates, the shared excitement of literary discoveries, and the comfort of knowing that you were part of a community of like-minded individuals. But on that day, all of that seemed a world away.

As you sat there, contemplating the emptiness around you, you couldn't help but wonder if, somewhere out there, there was someone who felt the same way. Someone whose presence could fill the void and bring back the sense of belonging that you craved.

Thus, it came as a pleasant surprise when, after the lecture concluded, you spotted him once more—among the rows of ebony-coloured books and studious scholars in the library.

"Hello again," you greeted him softly with a warm smile, his presence in the library marking the intersection of the mundane academic world and the intriguing, unexpected encounters life could offer. You immediately noticed that he wasn’t in the silent part of the library. Maybe he didn’t know that a quiet area of the library even existed.

“Ah hello again, stranger from the bus.” He looks up at you, his lips breaking into a smile. You quickly noticed he arranged his face paint.

“Mind if I join you?” you asked.

He nodded as he cleared away some books from the oaken table. You settled on the seat in front of him, taking out your laptop and paper.

“How’s research going?” you inquire, eager to finally get to know someone.

“Good, I found some excellent references on Plague Doctors.”

“Ooh” you go clearly intrigued. “ Do tell me more. I barely know shit about the black plague.”

Copia leaned forward slightly, his eyes glimmered at the opportunity to share his findings. "Plague doctors were indeed enigmatic figures during the time of plague outbreaks, often seen as both protectors and ominous symbols. They were known for their long, dark robes, which covered them from head to toe, and their iconic masks with beak-like protrusions. These masks, filled with various substances like herbs, spices, and even vinegar, were believed to filter out 'miasma,' the harmful air that was thought to carry the disease."

As Copia continued to discuss the role of plague doctors in diagnosing and treating the sick, their use of canes to examine patients from a distance, and the often-grim conditions they worked in, you found yourself engrossed in the details. The library's ambience, steeped in history, seemed the perfect backdrop for this conversation on a topic that had its roots in the distant past but continues to captivate imaginations to this day.

“Hold up? They had canes?!” you asked.

“Yes, indeed, they had as part of their distinctive attire and tools of the trade. They used them to diagnose the sick from a distance.”

“Did the Miasma actually work?” You asked, it was clear that your curious mind was taking the better part of you.

Copia leaned forward slightly, placing his head on his gloved hands considering your question. "The concept of miasma, as they understood it back then, was more of a belief than a scientifically proven method. In reality, these plague doctors were working with limited knowledge of how diseases spread. Their efforts to diagnose and treat patients from a distance were based on the idea that avoiding direct contact with the sick and inhaling foul air could prevent infection.”

“We have discussed The Masque of the Red Death by Edgar Allen Poe in one of my classes. It’s not exactly the same I know. But. Maybe the Castle-“ you trailed off.

Copia continued to lean in, intrigued by the connection you were making. "Indeed, the castle in that story serves as a symbol of the illusion of safety and the false sense of control. Prince Prospero believed he could shut out death, much like the plague doctors believed they could ward off disease by wearing their masks and robes."

You continued, "And just as the revellers at the masquerade ball are ultimately powerless in the face of the Red Death, the efforts of the plague doctors were often in vain. It's a haunting reflection of the human tendency to seek refuge from mortality, even when such attempts are based on superstition rather than scientific understanding. It's a recurring theme in literature, isn't it? The struggle against the inevitable, the desire for immortality, and the harsh reality that no one can escape death. This is dragging on I’m sorry. It’s just funny how I just met you and we’re talking about the bubonic plague and death and-“

“It’s alright, I’m glad you found this interesting” he laughs “What about you? What are you working on?”

"Oh, just some essay about linguistics. It’s difficult to explain.”

Copia leaned back in his chair, still intrigued by your discussion but ready to shift gears to a different topic. "Linguistics, huh? That sounds pretty interesting, even if it's a bit hard to explain. Anything specific you're focusing on in your essay?"

You thought for a moment, considering how to describe your topic. "Well, it's kind of about how language can shape our perception of the world and influence our thoughts. You know, like how different cultures have words for concepts that might not even exist in other languages, and how that can affect the way people think about those concepts."

Copia nodded thoughtfully. "Ah, so you're delving into the power of words and how they shape our understanding of reality. That's some deep stuff."

"Yeah, exactly!" you replied, relieved that he seemed to grasp the essence of your research. "It's fascinating how something as seemingly simple as language can have such a profound impact on our lives and the way we see the world."

Time slipped away as you and the Cardinal delved into your respective research. Occasionally, you'd pause to stretch your legs but for the most part, you were both engrossed in your work. Despite the initial awkwardness of your encounter on the bus, you had discovered a surprising intellectual connection, and the library had become an unexpected meeting ground for your shared interests.

At one point, as you were lost in thought, Copia leaned over and asked, "So, have you come across any particularly interesting findings in your research?"

You set aside your laptop for a moment and leaned in, eager to share your insights. "Actually, yes. I was reading about how certain languages have words that capture very specific emotions or experiences that might be hard to express in English. It made me realize how rich and diverse human languages are. Like, there's a word in Swedish, 'fika,' which means to have a coffee break with friends and chat. It's not just about the coffee; it's about the social connection. I just I find it fascinating how languages can reflect cultural nuances like that."

“Hmm I see” he continues. He was peering down over a notebook, his handwriting elegant and intriguing.

“You should drop by the abbey sometime. We have a library there. Some pretty interesting topics.” The cardinal continues.

“Really?! I’d love to. Where is it?” you inquire.

“One moment” Copia takes out a piece of cardboard. Eloquently with his cursive handwriting he writes.

The Ghost Ministries

13 Moonlit Path

Willowbrook

“Oh, that’s close to where I live” you say. You are hesitant on giving any more information. After all, you'd only just met Copia that morning, and despite the intriguing conversation, you still had reservations about sharing too much about yourself with a stranger.

“Perfect.” Copia says. “Feel free to drop by anytime you wish.”

“I will…some time for sure” you continue.

The time in the library passed quickly, filled with engrossing discussions, silent companionship, and the occasional exchange of insights with Copia. As you both delved into your respective research, the library served as a sanctuary where your shared interests converged.

The soft hum of scholarly activity surrounded you, punctuated by the rustle of pages turning and the faint tapping of laptop keys. It was a haven of knowledge and exploration, and in the company of Copia, it felt even more enchanting.

But as the minutes turned into hours, a sudden exclamation from Copia broke the tranquil ambience. Startled, you looked up from your work to see him hastily packing his belongings, a look of mild panic on his face.

"Fuck me, I'm late," Copia muttered under his breath, his voice carrying a note of urgency.

You watched in surprise as Copia gathered his books and notebooks with a sense of haste, his movements quick and slightly clumsy in his rush. It was clear that he had just realized he was running behind schedule.

"Are you okay?" you inquired, concerned about his sudden change in demeanour.

Copia looked up, a sheepish smile on his face as he continued to hurriedly pack. "I lost track of time, and I have another engagement I can't be late for. I'm really sorry to cut this short."

You nodded understandingly, realizing that sometimes schedules could be unforgiving. You chuckled softly to yourself. He was so similar to you. Of course, you befriended the one other person with no sense of time.

"No worries," you assured him. "Life happens, and we all have places to be.”

With a final, apologetic glance, Copia bid you a hasty farewell and dashed out of the library, leaving you with a sense of curiosity and the lingering warmth of the conversations you had shared.

You once again started to focus on your own work. Hours slipped away, and you eventually realized it was time to head to your next class. You gathered your things, packed up your laptop, and made your way out of the library.

But as you stepped outside, the skies were still grey and a light drizzle was once again gracing the Earth. You hurriedly opened your umbrella, only to realize that it was Copia's distinctive, black umbrella, adorned with a subtle symbol of the clergy, an inverted cross with an embedded "G".

“I’m so silly” you chastise yourself.

You looked around, but there was no sign of him. Perhaps he had left it behind in his haste to depart.

You decided to hold on to it for safekeeping.

[ereri-fics]

Hellos

Do you know any EreRi fics when Eren is a Titan? Not a Titan shifter but he’s a full Titan then turns human or transforms into a humanoid? Levi meets the Titan. I prefer Bottom Levi if that’s possible.

Thank you ❤️

Beyond the walls by Clueless_mf

Levi gets hurt when going beyond the walls, he wakes up in a strange place only to learn that the person who brought him there was the thing he hated most.

You can also check our titan!Eren tag.

R.

[phanfictioncatalogue]

AU - Canon Divergence (2) Masterlist

part one

a night to remember (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: Why did he think going anywhere alone would be a good idea? And to an honest to god queer prom for sad grown-ups who missed out the first time around because they were too busy being closeted.

Bittersweet (ao3) - heylazeh

Summary: “Do you believe that there's another world at the other side of the mirror where everyone is opposite?”

“No.”

“Watch out"

dan and philly's wet moments (ao3) - heartsopenminds

Summary: Phil loathes hiring people to come and fix stuff around the house - he never imagined that watching someone power washing a patio could be so much fun though.

dan is not a pianist (ao3) - Marranje

Summary: How Phil went from watching the pianist and youtuber Dan from afar to being by his side through the most important moments of their lives.

Disturb the Universe (ao3) - iihappydaysii

Summary: Dan and Phil are a successful YouTube duo, best friends and next door neighbors. Phil's married with two kids and Dan's long term boyfriend is like the queen's cousin or something. Their lives are fine--perfectly acceptable--but when two unrelated emergencies land Dan and Phil living together for the first time since 2012, they're forced to examine the choices they've made and confront the feelings they've kept quiet for nearly a decade.

Drips Through (ao3) - artbabe

Summary: Dan goes outside to smoke at a party. Phil joins him.

drop your heart I'll save it for you (ao3) - Anonymous

Summary: Tenderness isn't part of the deal, nor are soft words, or feelings, or kisses that don't lead to fucking. It's not what Dan asked for, and it's certainly not why someone would choose to fuck their friend slash flatmate slash colleague who they absolutely don’t have any feelings for.

Equilibrium (ao3) - phan_anon

Summary: It's 2016, and Omega!Dan doesn't need an Alpha to be happy, thank you very much. He's quite content living with best friend, flat mate, business partner, co-author, ex-boyfriend, and occasional lover, Beta!Phil. Quite content, that is, until an unplanned pregnancy disturbs the comfortable equilibrium they've established over the years...

from up here you can't beat the view (just watch me now) (ao3) - kishere, maybeformepersonally

Summary: It's 2009 and Dan finds Phil on the internet when a well-meaning mate of his recommends him to a certain site she likes. Dan quickly becomes a fan: watching Phil's videos religiously and interacting with him on his socials. And, soon enough, Phil starts noticing him.

A familiar enough story on the surface but here's the catch: Phil has never been involved with YouTube.

Phil is a camboy.

Guilty Pleasure (ao3) - ThoughtaThought

Summary: Dan and Phil meet at a BDSM club and decide to play. Dan is a rigger and a masochist. Phil is a sadist and a rope bunny. It’s perfect.

hard launch at last (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: “Maybe the exact right moment won’t ever present itself.” Dan can feel himself hurtling towards some cosmic revelation as they stand here on a sandy beach in Portugal, the ocean bringing out the blue in Phil’s eyes.

I try to picture me without you but I can't (ao3) - Anonymous

Summary: After Dan's tragic death, Phil starts having a bunch of strange dreams where he is still alive. But are they really just dreams?

Or: Phil's s̶o̶u̶l̶ consciousness can't cope with Dan's death, so he starts hopping between different universes to look for him.

more than convenient (ao3) - baroquen

Summary: Based on a Tumblr post.

In which Dan keeps seeing Phil as the closest profile on Grindr and finally says "fuck it."

(Except it's very sappy)

nylon is for delicate work (ao3) - Anonymous

Summary: A forensic linguist meets a lawyer in Rawtenstall.

re: the apple store guy...IT ALL WORKED OUT! (ao3) - strange_highs_and_strange_lowss

Summary: Based on a craiglist "best of" posting. Apple Store customers Dan and Phil frequent the "missed communications" page. The world's most coincidental first date follows.

rocks wishing to be clouds (ao3) - catboyhowell (bloodyscarab) (ao3) - pinkseason

Summary: i'm a loose bolt of a complete machine. what a match, i'm half-doomed, and you're semi-sweet. - a story about kidnapper voicemails, habitual insecurity, and conversations within conversations.

Tried to do headstands for you (every time I fell on you) (ao3) - popsongnation

Summary: “I’m not always this clumsy and accident prone, I swear,” Dan says, and maybe he’s lying, but Phil doesn’t have to know that. How hard can it be not to injure yourself at a coffee shop? He just needs to remember which way the doors open, and buy new shoes. He’ll be fine.

Or: coffee shop/uni AU in which Dan keeps injuring himself in increasingly ridiculous ways, Phil regularly has to patch him up, and it’s Christmas time.

Two Man Team (ao3) - Nefertiti1052 (Succubusphan)

Summary: This is the story of two struggling friends who after many trials and tribulations find their way back to each other and build the life they've always dreamed of.

Or how Phil changed his life by talking to random strangers on the internet.

[bingqiufics]

Title: Cracked Mirror 

Author: Ehann

Relationship: Jiuyuan

Timeline: Canon Divergence / Shen Jiu Lives AU / Shen Twins AU

Status: Complete

Rating: Mature

Length: Novel ( 52K ) 

Summary:

Seriously, did Shen Yuan like, transmigrate or something? Wouldn’t he at least get a System to tell him what the fuck is happening if he did? How long has his body been here anyway? Did it die of hunger? Someone throw him a bone for fucks sake!

[ficfinding]

#harrypotter #percyweasley #perciver #canondivergence

Hey I'm look for a fic on ao3 where Percy runs a halfway house for people in the Order of the Phoenix and Oliver comes a few times and towards the end the house is attacked through a hearing thingy in the microwave. Remus Lupin in mentioned and Percy is told at the end that they only sent the best to him because his house was so good.

.

[astrxsee]

FALSE GOD chap. 2

(chap 1) (chap 2) (chap 3)

percy jackson x child of demeter!oc

𝑰𝑵 𝑾𝑯𝑰𝑪𝑯 Rose St. Claire sets off on a quest to save the goddess in chains.

𝑶𝑹

𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑪𝒀 𝑱𝑨𝑪𝑲𝑺𝑶𝑵 learns to see what is right in front of him.

!CONTENT WARNING! gore, romance, swearing, blood, heavy themes

a/n: omg! hi i love posting on tumblr so much?? like i finally wanna write again LOL anyways I can also take requests! only if you want anyways pls i hope you like the next chapter i PROMISE there will be romance but it’s a slow burn dw

also can someone please show me how to link the first chapter i cannot for the life of me pls and thanks

sorry for the delay yall fr i just have to be in the right headspace to write im so sorry anyways i hope you like it please feel free to give any feedback

also if you like it i would be happy to put anyone on a tag list as well <3

The clicking of heels against the polished floor grabs my attention, the game I was holding in my hand lays idly to the side. Bianca shoots me a nervous look from her seat next to me before peering up at the stern lady. The lady's grey hair was slicked back into a bun, her nose crooked, almost like a scythe. She did not look very nice.

"Bianca Di Angelo." She states, matter of factly. "I am here to take you, your brother," The woman shoots a pointed look at Nico, "And your... friend."

The look the mysterious woman gave was poisonous, her eyes daggers as she looked at me. Her nose sneered as she took in the surroundings of the casino. It was loud, I could tell she didn't like it.

"My name is Rose." I snapped, quickly rising to my feet. I cross my arms as her eyes narrow as she looks at me. I glare back at her, not backing down from her imposing stare.

She sighs and rolls her eyes muttering something under her breath, something along the lines of 'stupid demigods'. I feel Bianca stand next to me, putting a calming hand on my shoulder. She quickly steps in front of me, breaking my cold stare at the unpleasant woman.

"Excuse me, but are you here to take us to school?" Bianca asks, her head tilted in a curious way. The old woman nodded, a careless look on her face.

"Yes, now come, we haven't got any time to lose. Don't ask any questions." The woman says before turning on her heel to the exit of the casino. I cast a look over my shoulder to Nico, his face twisted in a worried look. His hands fiddled with a silver army soldier toy, as he glanced around at everyone except the lawyer.

"Are you sure we can't just stay?" A small voice speaks out from behind Bianca. The stern woman whips around to look at Nico, who looks like he was about to cry. The lawyer scoffs.

"Stupid boy. You three are too important to be kept here." She bluntly states. Kept here? Too important? Her words make my mind spiral. I cast a worried glance over to Bianca who also has a troubled look on her face.

I couldn't help the nervous feeling in my chest. My Dad had brought me here about two months ago. Now that I think of it, I couldn't really remember what he looked like, let alone why he left me here. Were we being kept here? I shake my head, trying to rid my mind of these troubling thoughts.

My brows furrow as I try to remember the events leading up to entering the casino. It feels like the memories are just out of reach, like a blank space fills the area where they used to be. All I could remember was the year; 1976. I didn't want to go back out there, I didn't want to face what was waiting for me on the outside. Surely, the police would still be looking for me. Most of all, I didn't want that... thing to get me.

I roughly bump into Bianca, who stopped in her tracks. Daylight poured through the open door of the casino, I could hear many voices and sounds coming from outside.

"Bianca, what the hell." I ask, my mind snapping back to reality. I glance up and all words are lost as I become rooted to my spot. The cars zoomed by in the road, hundreds of billboards lined the bustling streets. There were bright screens with neon words that I couldn't even understand. Where was I? All I know that this was not 1976.

"Hurry up, children. We haven't got time to loose." The lawyer snaps. I look over to her, my mouth wide open. Bianca and Nico still had their eyes glued to the unfamiliar scene, their faces contorted into looks of panic.

A feeling of anger rose up inside of me as I took steps closer to the woman. She didn't even flinch as I leaned as close as I could to her.

"Where the fuck are we?" I yell, my confusion getting the better of my rationality. My arms gesture to the enigmatic scene in front of me. What year is it? What happened?" My mind is running too fast that I can't comprehend one thought. Where were we? What happened while I was in the casino? Why did it look like we were in the future?

An annoyingly amused smile makes it way onto the lawyers face. She shakes her head and lets out a condescending laugh.

"Stupid girl." She began, her eyes bored, "I told you to not ask any questions." My eyes open incredulously at her dismissive words. My entire world had been flipped on its head and she tells me not to ask questions! The anger boils up in my chest as I stand there with millions of questions. I notice pink flowers start to pop up in the cracks of the sidewalk, I didn't care at this point. I couldn't control it.

"What year is it?" A soft voice breaks me from my confused spiral. Bianca, now looking over to the woman, asks, her face full of confusion. She then looks at me, her eyes filled with tears.

"2007." She bluntly states, rolling her eyes as if it was a stupid question. My hand flies to my mouth in shock as I hear the woman's words. 2007! I have been in that damn casino for thirty one years? I reel back, the realization finally hitting me. I shake my head, a feeling of sickness washes over me. This can't be happening.

The woman guides us towards a large black car. I had never seen a car so big and with so many seats! She motions to the driver to leave after we all file into the car. Nico looks completely lost, his hands still on his silver army toy.

"Now, you may be confused." The woman, Camille according to the driver, starts. I scoff at her words, my arms crossed as I look out the window. A growing feeling of sadness wells up in my stomach, a twisting sort of feeling. "I can assure you that you will be safe at your new school. We will be there shortly."

How much did the world change? Why does time pass differently in that casino? Why did my Dad leave me there? Thousands of questions circled around in my head, too many unknowns for me to handle.

I feel my breaths begin to quicken, my hands shaking. I fiddle with the pins and patches on my worn out bomber jacket, quickly grounding myself. I think of my hands in cold grass and a warm breeze blowing over my face. I breathe out a sigh, accepting of the absolutely crazy situation.

I place my hand over Bianca's, she breaks her stare from out the window to look over at me. I give her a reassuring smile and her hand a small squeeze. She gives me a small smile, telling me that she's okay.

"Okay, children, grab your things. We're here." Camille orders. She quickly climbs out of the car and starts making her way to the man standing outside of the ominous front doors of the school. I grab my green duffel bag and follow Bianca out of the car, Nico follows me slowly. I didn't even want to think about how scared he must be. We all follow Camille slowly, our necks craned up to take in the vastness of the school.

Standing on the pathway, there stands a man. He towers over my friends and I as we stand behind our lawyer. He gives us all a large, slightly creepy smile. His two different colored eyes almost seemed to glow as he looked at us.

"Welcome to Westover Hall. Your new home."

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

taglist: @cxcilla

[estbela]

Bul being relatable as usual

( from this –> xxx )

[gophergal]

Wanting to talk about my AU: 🤩

Having to work on the thing it's for: 😐

[mandzipop]

Killing a Mockingbird - Reunited (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1424392948-killing-a-mockingbird-reunited?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=mandzipop Alayne Stone marries Harry the heir, becomes Sansa Stark and re-takes Winterfell. Inside, she finds horrors beyond belief, and a letter informing her of the death of her older half-brother. She tries to re-build Winterfell, but is stricken by grief, all the while Littlefinger lurks. Not long after she re-takes Winterfell, Jon arrives, back from the dead. But he is not the boy she remembers, who left for the wall, full of idealistic dreams. Instead, he returns dark and angry. Only Sansa can calm him down. Sansa starts to trust him more than anyone else she's ever known. However, Littlefinger is spewing vile hints about Jon into her ear. Sansa turns to Jon for protection, but her feelings for him are not what they should be.

[aftgficlibrary]

Hey! I was wondering if u could help me find some female Neil AU's, i really like genderbends and cant find any :))

there's not many out there, but here's what i found

-rocky

She Kissed Me (All is Shattered) by Heartfulkings (T | Incomplete | 1/?)

The Exy world is full of vouyeristic fans who speculate about their favorite players nonstop. Unfortunately Drew and Nat, with their electric pasts and ambiguous relationship are perfect fodder for gossip sites and nosy reporters. When the paparazzi catch Kevin in public with the girls, Drew has to decide whether to play along with the public narrative, or to finally give into her possessive streak, making it known who Nat really belongs with.

kaleidoscope by decaflondonfog (M | 5,555 | 3/3)

Ever met a girl worth scratching the hood of your Maserati for? Andrew has.

dance for me by jemwrites (M | 16,028 | 4/4)

Neala gripped the barre. This would be her only chance to dance before her mother would hunt her down and killed her.  You stupid, stupid girl, her father murmured in her ear. She squeezed her eyes shut. All his hard work at keeping her safe, down the drain. Signing with Palmetto Dance meant performances, competitions, publicity. It was signing herself up for a shortened life.  Her pointe shoes complained with overuse as she rolled up onto them.  It didn’t matter if she died. This was the only thing that made her feel alive.

/Graphic Depictions of Violence

[ghoulelegy]

In the Breeze of the Autumn Leaves

Chapter 2: Daffodils

Freed from the threat of being soaked, you head over to the Satanic ministry to return the cardinal's umbrella.

Chapter 2 wordcount: 5k

Read chapter 1 here.

Thank you @em0bussy, @creatura-theanarchist, @jimothybarnes and @everybodyshusband for the support you have shown ❤️❤️

Your gaze shifted to the satanic cardinal's umbrella, which leaned against the bathroom wall. It seemed to be a silent witness to the enigma that has woven itself into your life. You study the umbrella, taking note of its unique design and symbol. You can't seem to shake off the feeling that something significant is about to happen.

As you turn away from the mirror, you take a deep breath and try to push your thoughts aside. You know that you have to face the night ahead, where the thoughts seem to be at their loudest, regardless of how unsettling it may be. You take a moment to gather your thoughts before stepping out of the bathroom and into the world beyond.

The sirens' mournful wails echoed through the dawn as you set foot outside your home. The events of the day, especially the encounter with the satanic cardinal, lingered in your thoughts like an unsettling melody.

Juno, ever attuned to your emotions, looked up at you with those expressive Labrador eyes, tail wagging gently. You attached the leash to her collar, adorned with her name, and together, you ventured into the quiet streets that were now bathed in the soft hues of the setting sun.

The city seemed to be ready to call it a day, yet an air of unease lingered. As you trudged, you couldn't shake off the unsettling feeling left by the encounter with the satanic cardinal, just the day before. The cryptic conversation, the enigmatic symbols, and the mysterious ambience of the minister replayed in your mind like scenes from a surreal movie.

The sun cast long shadows across the pavement, creating a stark contrast to the thoughts swirling in your mind. Juno, sensing your contemplative mood, walked close by, occasionally nudging your hand for comfort She embodied the essence of a soul companion. She wasn't just a pet; she was a confidante, a silent witness to the ebb and flow of your life. From the playful days of her puppyhood to the current moment, there was a connection that transcended the ordinary. From the day you brought her home, she was there for you. Not only that, but she eased you in your darkest moments of despair, a quiet, but heartening light that you carried around everywhere you go.

The clouds had cleared up, revealing a canvas of red in the sky as the sun cast its warm glow on the world below. The vivid hues painted across the heavens brought to mind the age-old saying: "Red sky at night, sailor's delight." The atmosphere shifted from the earlier sombre tones, and a sense of serenity settled in.

Juno, always attuned to the shifts in atmosphere, revelled in the beauty of the moment. The red sky, the city below, and the connection you shared with your soulful companion created a tableau that felt almost cinematic. In the simplicity of the morning, the world around you became a canvas painted with the brushstrokes of nature's artistry.

With each step, the evening unfolded like a well-scripted scene, and the once lingering uncertainties now seemed to be harmonizing with the vibrant colours above. The red sky was a silent narrator, whispering tales of delight and promise, and you couldn't help but feel that this unexpected day was taking a turn towards something extraordinary.

You gripped the satanic cardinal’s umbrella in your right hand, Juno’s leash in the other, as your mind whirled with thoughts both present and distant. The weight of the unique umbrella, adorned with the enigmatic symbol, felt like a tangible reminder of the mysterious encounters of the day.

As you walked through the city streets, the chilly breeze of impending winter nipped at the edges of your consciousness. It was the first winter you will venture through on your own, and the solitude brought with it a quiet kind of introspection. The cityscape, now touched with the hues of the setting sun, seemed both familiar and foreign.

The city lights flickering to life mirrored the conflicting emotions within you, the vibrant hues competing with the fading images of home. In this urban labyrinth, the crimson sky became a symbolic backdrop for your internal struggle, a canvas where the hues of the past and present blended in a bittersweet palette.

Juno, sensing the unrest in your steps, pressed closer, a comforting presence in the midst of your silent conflict. The city's sounds became a distant murmur as the internal tug-of-war unfolded within your soul. The enchanting scenes and distant memories collided, creating a narrative that transcended the external beauty surrounding you.

The satanic cardinal's umbrella, an emblem of the day's enigma, felt like both a shield against the cold winds and a conduit to a world of mysteries. In the midst of the quieting city, you grappled with the paradox of feeling both connected and detached.

As the red sky faded into the deepening twilight, you found solace in the companionship of your golden labrador and the umbrella's peculiar symbolism. The winter that lay ahead held uncertainties, but amidst the complexities, the simple act of holding onto the umbrella provided a sense of continuity.

As you strolled through the city, the verses of Wordsworth's "Daffodils" echoed in your mind, creating a soothing contrast to the urban surroundings. The poem's imagery of nature's beauty and the blissful solitude of the daffodils resonated with the complexities of your day.

As you pondered the day's revelations, you found a subtle connection between the urban landscape and the poetic lines you had just read. The bustling city, like the "host, of golden daffodils," held its own kind of beauty amidst the chaos. It was a realisation that even in the midst of mysterious encounters, nature's simplicity and beauty remained a constant source of inspiration.

It was not long before you stumbled upon the satanic ministry's whereabouts, and the sight struck you as unexpectedly quaint. A metal gate, adorned with the bold letter "G," stood as a threshold to a place that held the mysteries of the day.

As you approached, the contrast between the foreboding imagery associated with the term "satanic" and the simplicity of the gate intrigued you. The metalwork, though adorned with the enigmatic symbol, had an almost timeless elegance, leaving you to wonder about the stories concealed beyond its confines.

Juno, still by your side, tilted her head curiously as if sensing the aura of the place. The red sky above cast a warm glow, creating an ambiance that defied the ominous reputation often associated with the term "satanic." The air held a certain stillness, and the urban sounds seemed to fade away as you stood before the gate.

You took a breath, the metal gate creaking slightly as you pushed it open. The path beyond, hidden from casual observers, promised revelations and perhaps more questions. The quaintness of the scene added an unexpected layer to the day's unfolding narrative, and with each step, you stepped into a realm where the ordinary and the mysterious converged.

You nervously stepped towards the door, as you rang the doorbell. It buzzed loudly. You straightened yourself, as you tried to make yourself presentable. The anticipation hung thick in the air as you nervously waited for a response.

The door squeaked open, revealing an older lady with greying hair pulled into a neat bun. She stood there, a stoic presence in the dimly lit foyer, wearing attire that echoed a sense of authority within the mysterious walls of the satanic ministry.

"Greetings," she said in a calm, measured tone. Her eyes, though staring at your face, held a depth of knowledge and experience that hinted at a long journey through the corridors of time.

"I am Sister Imperator. My apologies, Papa Terzo is not here at the moment."

Juno, the ever-observant Labrador, responded to the new presence with a curious tilt of the head. Eying Sister Imperator with a mix of inquisitiveness and caution, Juno remained alert but seemed to sense that the atmosphere was not one of immediate threat.

"Oh... um, I'm actually here for Cardinal Copia," you explained, the unfamiliar title "Papa Terzo" adding another layer to the mystery. The satanic cardinal's umbrella in your hand seemed to hum with significance as you mentioned Copia's name.

Sister Imperator's gaze remained steady, and she nodded in acknowledgment. "Cardinal Copia is indeed present. Follow me," she gestured, leading the way deeper into the labyrinthine corridors of the satanic ministry.

Juno, with a final sniff of the air, fell into step behind you as you followed Sister Imperator. The air seemed to thicken with anticipation, and you couldn't shake the feeling that each step brought you closer to unveiling the secrets hidden within the heart of this enigmatic place.

As you continued to walk deeper into the satanic ministry's labyrinth, a nervous tension settled into the deepest pits of your stomach. The air felt heavy with anticipation, and the enigmatic surroundings seemed to close in on you. Yet, despite the unease, Juno eagerly carried forward.

You shrugged, a bemused expression on your face. It was a role reversal. Juno, your usually cautious and sensitive companion, appeared strangely eager in this unfamiliar territory. Her tail wagged with an enthusiasm that contradicted the usual demeanor you'd expect from a dog in an unknown place.

You exchanged glances with Juno, a silent communication passing between you. It was as if she sensed something in the air—something beyond your comprehension. Her eagerness became a source of reassurance, a reminder that even in the midst of uncertainty, there was an element of trust in the connection you shared.

As Sister Imperator led the way through the dimly lit corridors, the echoes of your footsteps mingled with the enigmatic aura of the satanic ministry. The satanic cardinal's umbrella in your hand, Juno by your side, and the anticipation of meeting Cardinal Copia created a surreal tapestry of emotions.

The nervous tension persisted, but you found solace in Juno's unexpected courage. With each step, you couldn't help but marvel at the intricate dance of mystery and companionship that defined this peculiar journey into the heart of the satanic ministry.

Sister Imperator guided you through winding corridors adorned with peculiar symbols and flickering candlelight. The air grew thicker with the scent of incense, adding an otherworldly quality to the journey. Juno, despite the unfamiliar surroundings, maintained her steady pace, her inquisitive gaze occasionally sweeping the surroundings.

The distant echo of chanting voices reached your ears as you walked deeper into the heart of the satanic ministry. The rhythmic cadence created an eerie harmony with the soft shuffle of footsteps and the occasional creaking of the aged floorboards.

Sister Imperator led you to a set of ornate double doors adorned with intricate carvings. With a subtle nod, she gestured for you to enter. As the doors swung open, you were met with a scene that transcended the boundaries of the ordinary.

A grand hall stretched before you, lit by a multitude of candles that cast a warm, golden glow on the assembled clergy. The atmosphere buzzed with an energy that was both solemn and electrifying. At the far end of the hall, elevated on a platform, stood Cardinal Copia.

"Hello again," Cardinal Copia's voice echoed through the hall, resonating with a captivating charisma. "I trust your journey has been... enlightening."

You hesitated for a moment, glancing at Juno, who stood faithfully by your side. Sister Imperator discreetly retreated, leaving you alone to face the satanic ministry.

"I, um, didn't expect my day to take this turn," you admitted, the satanic cardinal's umbrella in your hand serving as a tangible reminder of the surreal events that had led you here. “You left your umbrella in the library, Cardinal”

Copia chuckled, as he eyed you with his heterochromatic eyes, staring deep somewhere in your soul. You’d think it would’ve made you uncomfortable, but rather it healed your spirit somewhat.

“I appreciate you coming all this way for silly old me” Copia continued as he chuckled once more, not before adding “And please, no need to be so formal. Copia will do just fine.”

You couldn't help but be drawn into Cardinal Copia's charismatic presence. His laughter echoed through the grand hall, and his heterochromatic eyes seemed to hold a depth of understanding that went beyond mere words. Despite the surreal circumstances that had led you here, there was an undeniable sense of comfort in his demeanor.

"Thank you, uh, Copia," you replied, the formality giving way to a more casual tone. The weight of the satanic cardinal's umbrella in your hand felt less burdensome in the presence of the enigmatic leader.

“You’re welcome. Heh…um…yeah.” Copia awkwardly stood there, his voice creaking, as his gloved hand reached out for the umbrella in yours. You notice his gloves, and with it, the rest of his attire, as he stood there in front of you, clad in what seemed to be a contrast with the clothing you saw him wear just the day before. This time he was in a hoodie, still cardinally red, but a lot more casual, with black trousers and shoes. The absence of his biretta also did not go unnoticed.

“Well…then, would you like a cup of tea?”

Copia's sudden offer of tea caught you off guard, considering the surreal circumstances you found yourself in. The contrast between his formal appearance from the day before and his current casual attire added to the intrigue of the situation.

"Tea would be nice," you replied, with a smile, as he led you away to a small, dimly lit chamber adjacent to the grand hall. The scent of ancient books and the subtle aroma of incense permeated the air. The stained glass of the ceiling depicted scenes both mysterious and divine, casting colourful patterns across the chamber. Copia gestured for you to take a seat at a table adorned with intricate carvings, while he gracefully settled into the chair opposite you.

“Hope you don’t mind that Juno is with me!” you spoke, gracefully accepting the seat.

Copia's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled, a genuine warmth in his expression. "Not at all. Animals have an uncanny ability to perceive the currents of the unseen. Their presence is always welcome here," he said, gesturing towards Juno with a nod of approval.

Juno, seemingly attuned to the affirmation, wagged her tail in response. The atmosphere in the chamber, once tinged with a sense of mystery, now held a more relaxed undertone. The flickering candlelight danced across the room, casting shadows that seemed to embrace the tales and secrets concealed within the ancient walls. Copia gracefully poured two cups of tea, one for you, the other one for himself.

“And you, little one? Would you like some water? Unfortunately my treats are only for mio ratti hehehe!” Copia knelt down and delicately took off his gloves, as he scritched the sweet little labrador on the head. She smiled in response, looking towards Copia with adorable beady eyes that seemed to cure any tinge of emotional discomfort that you could imagine. It didn’t take long for her to lick his hand.

Copia quickly poured you a cup of tea, as he stirred in some milk and offered you some sugar. You sip your tea, as you take in the rich aroma that filled the air. The warmth of the drink spread through you, a comforting embrace in the midst of the unknown.

“Can I ask you a question?” You shoot out, as you clink the teaspoon out of the cup.

“You’re already asking one” the cardinal chuckled, his eyebrows scrunched in amusement.

You chuckled along with him, appreciating the subtle humour in his response. "Fair enough," you replied, a small grin forming on your face. "Let me rephrase that. May I ask you another question?"

Copia, leaning back in his chair, nodded graciously. "Of course. Ask away."

“You have rats?” curiosity colours your face. You notice a sparkle in Copia’s eye as he looks at you, he shuffles his feet ecstatically when he clears his throat.

“Si, si, Peaches and Moon. Piccoli carini.” Copia says with a smile, his eyes twinkling.

"Peaches and Moon," you echoed with a soft smile, savouring the musicality of the names.

Copia leaned back, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "They're quite…well you can say naughty. Always finding new corners to explore in this vast ministry. They have a way of bringing light to the shadows, you know? Sister Imperator always tells me to contain them in their cage but…just don’t have the heart to”.

You nodded in agreement, envisioning the playful rodents darting around the mysterious corridors. “Juno was so chaotic when she was a pup, she’d always steal my socks and shoes.”

Copia chuckled, his affection for his rodent companions evident. "They've become the heart of this place, in a way. Even in the most solemn moments, they manage to infuse a bit of joy."

“So, how’s your research going? On plague doctors…was it?” you asked, curiosity colouring your words.

Copia leaned forward, a gleam of excitement in his eyes as he delved into the topic. "Ah, the project on plague doctors. Well, you see, we're not just any ordinary researchers. We're a band, and currently, I'm assisting my brother, Terzo, in crafting the theme for our next album. It's going to be medieval-themed."

Your curiosity deepened, the intrigue evident in your eyes. "A medieval-themed album? That sounds fascinating. What inspired the choice of plague doctors as a focus?"

Copia's smile widened, and he gestured animatedly. "The medieval era is rich with mystery, symbolism, and a certain allure. Plague doctors, with their enigmatic masks and haunting presence, seemed like the perfect embodiment of that atmosphere. Each song will be a tale from that time, a journey through the layers of medieval history."

“Actually, one of my professors mentioned the Beowulf the other day, it captures the essence of that era," you interjected, the connection between medieval tales evident in your mind. "The symbolism and the tales from that time are indeed captivating. It's fascinating how you're channelling that essence into your music."

Copia's eyes lit up at the mention of Beowulf, his passion for the medieval era evident. "Beowulf, a classic tale. The raw heroism and mythical elements—it's a treasure trove of inspiration. We're aiming to capture that same spirit in our album, to transport listeners to a time where every shadow held a secret and every step was a dance with destiny.”

As he spoke, you could almost feel the energy of the medieval tales weaving through the chamber, merging with the flickering candlelight and the shadows that clung to the ancient walls. The satanic ministry, once a place of intrigue, now resonated with the creative ambition of bringing history to life through music.

"The medieval era," Copia continued, "offers a canvas rich with symbolism and untold stories. Plague doctors, with their haunting masks, become characters in a larger narrative. Each note, each lyric, is a brushstroke on this canvas, creating a tapestry that invites our audience to step into a bygone world."

As Copia spoke passionately about the medieval-themed album and the inspiration drawn from Beowulf, you found yourself immersed in the creative world he described. The flickering candlelight and the ancient chamber seemed to fade away, replaced by the vivid imagery of a bygone era.

"I can imagine the depth and richness that medieval tales bring to your music," you remarked, the warmth of the tea complementing the evolving conversation. "It's like painting with sound, crafting a tapestry that resonates with the echoes of history."

Copia nodded, appreciating your understanding of the artistic process. "Exactly. It's about weaving a narrative that transcends time, allowing our listeners to experience the essence of an era long past. Music has this unique ability to transport people, to make them feel the emotions and stories embedded in the melodies."

As the conversation flowed seamlessly, you couldn't help but feel a growing connection with the satanic cardinal. The mysterious encounter with the umbrella had led to this unexpected meeting, and the unfolding dialogue bridged the gap between the enigma of the satanic ministry and the creative spirit that fueled its endeavours.”

___________________________________________________________________________

The sunset gave way to night, as you heard the swift breeze outside, with the branches creaking like ghostly whispers. The dimly lit chamber became a haven of warmth amidst the encroaching darkness. You look at your watch, it is almost eight o’clock in the evening. Juno snuggled her head on your lap, feeling her breath dribble down your jeans, as you drank the last remnants of your tea. Her eyes droopy and filled with a year’s worth of exhaustion.

“I should get going, little one needs her sleep” you voice yourself, meeting the cardinal’s alabaster gaze.

"Of course, family comes first. Juno needs her rest," he said, rising from his seat.

As you stood, Juno looked up with a gentle gaze, a silent acknowledgement of the connection you shared. The satanic cardinal walked you to the chamber's entrance, the candlelight casting dancing shadows on the intricate carvings that adorned the walls.

"Thank you for the company, and for sharing this moment with us," Copia expressed sincerely, the echoes of appreciation resonating in his voice.

With a final exchange of glances and a nod, you stepped out into the night, the breeze carrying the scent of ancient books and incense. The door creaked softly behind you, and the metal gate closed with a faint clink.

“Wait, before you go, here’s my number, just in case you ever need anything, my door is always open.”

Copia's unexpected offer caught you by surprise, and for a moment, you hesitated. His alabaster gaze held sincerity, and the warmth in his voice echoed genuine goodwill. You accepted the small card he handed you, realizing it contained not just a number but a connection to the mysteries and creativity housed within the satanic ministry.

"Thank you, Copia. I appreciate the gesture," you replied, tucking the card into your pocket. The night air seemed to hum with a subtle energy, and the metal gate, though closed, felt like a portal to a realm where the ordinary and the extraordinary converged.

As you and Juno resumed your journey through the quiet streets, the card in your pocket became a reminder of the enigmatic encounter. The city, bathed in moonlight, embraced you, lingering wisps of silver across the street.

Upon arriving at your apartment, the dim glow of the streetlights cast gentle illumination on the path before you. Unlocking the door, you stepped into the familiar haven of your living space. Juno, tail wagging with enthusiasm, welcomed you home with a joyous display.

You went about the routine of giving Juno her supper, the clinking of the bowl against the floor a comforting sound in the quiet apartment. The card from Copia found its place on the table, a small artefact holding the promise of an open door and the mysteries that lay beyond.

As you settled into the calm of your home, the city's hum was now replaced by the quietude of your own space, the crimson sky, the metal gate, and the enigmatic encounter with the satanic cardinal were woven into the tapestry of your memories.

You breathed as you tucked the pup in bed, as you collapsed on yours. Opening your phone (the wallpaper was a picture of Juno smiling) you sigh. The apartment felt empty, now with the little pup asleep, snoring. Small as it was, it brought a curl to your lips, as you dial in the number the satanic cardinal left you.

Your message:

“Hey! Just want to say, thank you for the tea 😊”

You sign off your name and hit send without thinking.

Was it too weird? Too informal perhaps. Was it too late at night?

Worst to worst he’ll just reply tomorrow. Won’t he?

As you pondered over the message you just sent, a mix of anticipation and uncertainty lingered in the air. The glow of your phone screen illuminated the room, casting a soft ambience in the quiet night. Time seemed to move in slow motion as you waited for a response.

The room remained silent, save for the occasional rustle of Juno’s peaceful snores. You started to envy her; how could one be at peace so often? Doubt started to creep in, and you questioned whether your message had been too spontaneous or if the timing was off. A myriad of scenarios played out in your mind, each one more dramatic than the last.

As you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, undressing after a long day, your reflection revealed an unexpected transformation. Your face contorted, teeth elongating into pointed fangs. It was a surreal sight, one that seemed to defy the boundaries of reality. Instead of shock or fear, a surprising chuckle escaped your lips.

The absurdity of the moment struck you, and you couldn't help but find humour in the bizarre reflection before you. The pointed teeth, the shrivelling features – it was as if you had stumbled into a scene from a supernatural tale.

You step out of the shower, feeling refreshed, as you bounce back in bed, opening your phone to a notification.

“You’re welcome 😊 Glad you enjoyed the tea! – C”

A warm smile spread across your face as you read Cardinal Copia's response. The simplicity of the message and the fact that he took the time to reply further emphasized the genuine connection that had formed, even in the midst of the mysterious circumstances surrounding your encounter. He even signs his messages! You felt your worries ease as you sink into your bed, and close your eyes.

As you basked in the warmth of your bed, a familiar weight settled at your feet. With a tender smile, you scooped her up and pulled her into a gentle embrace. Juno, sensing the affection, nuzzled against you, her soft fur a comforting touch against your skin. The two of you formed a tranquil tableau, sharing a moment of quiet companionship in the stillness of the night. The world outside faded away as you and Juno held each other, the bond between human and canine transcending words. In the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains, the room became a sanctuary of shared warmth and love.

Under the soothing embrace of your nighttime playlist, a symphony of soft metal melodies guides you into a dream, initially adorned with the warmth of a morning sun and the gentle sway of daffodils. Juno, your faithful companion, mirrors this serenity, her wagging tail a rhythmic pulse of companionship. Nature's simplicity, echoing Wordsworth's verses, acts as a refuge, momentarily shielding you from the complexities of reality. As you walk in the new reality, the cityscape gradually transforms into a quiet haven adorned with daffodils. The vibrant yellow blooms sway in the morning breeze, creating a picturesque scene that seems to echo the verses of Wordsworth's "Daffodils." The simplicity of nature's beauty becomes a soothing backdrop to the dream, offering a respite from the enigmatic encounters of the previous day.

Guided by a figure in red attire, the journey through this disconcerting labyrinth unfolds. The casualness of the red clothing now feels out of place amidst the unnerving environment. Each step deeper into the unknown brings forth a disquieting atmosphere—an unspoken menace palpable in the air.

The metal gate, once a mere threshold, now stands as a monumental barrier. Its intricate carvings whisper ancient secrets, and its imposing presence marks a pivotal point in the unfolding narrative. The crimson sky, combined with the looming gate, symbolizes the inescapable struggle against unseen forces—a metaphor for the internal battles waged within.

Copia, or the figure that wore his guise, guided you through the labyrinth with a disconcerting familiarity. The casual red attire now seemed out of place, a stark contrast to the unnerving environment. His soft-spoken words took on a sinister undertone, sending shivers down your spine.

As you navigated the shadowy corridors, the air became dense with an unspoken menace. The enigmatic symbols adorning the walls seemed to pulsate with an ominous energy. The once-familiar metal gate, now a looming structure, stood as a gateway to an unknown fate.

The figure, once resembling Copia, turned to you with an enigmatic smile. "Welcome back, dear," it uttered, the words carrying an unsettling weight. The smile, once comforting, now sent chills down your spine.

Your attempts to alter the course of this uncanny journey proved futile. Each step led you deeper into the unsettling unknown, and the atmosphere thickened with an oppressive force. The crimson hues that once painted the sky now took on a malevolent tone, casting eerie shadows that danced with a malicious intent.