#i am not made for conducting research outside

[supernaturalscribe67]

Favors

Words: 6,851

Pov: 3rd Person

Pairing: Crowley x Male!Reader

Warning(s): Language, SMUT (18+), Rimming, Teasing, Male on Male penetration, brief orgasm denial, Bottom!Reader, Top!Crowley

Summary: (Y/N) is a well-known researcher and hacker in the hunting industry, dedicating his life to protecting innocent people all around the United States. What happens when the King of Hell comes to him with a problem he needs help solving and a deal that (Y/N) cannot turn down?

Request:

Hope you are having a good day/night

Omg I absolutely love the Crowley x older Winchester brother reader fic you did for me

I was wondering if I could request Crowley x Male reader smut

@xweirdo101x

A/N: I haven't written smut in so long, I hope you like it! Plus, this is my first time writing male/male smut, so feedback is really appreciated! MINORS DNI!!!!! Much Love!

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It was beautiful that morning. Light barely shone over the treeline, the warm colors faintly casting a reflection across the lake that sat outside of the small house. The ground was littered with red, orange, and yellow leaves, decorating it like some cheesy floor pattern on a Welcome Mat. The wind whipped through the branches, conducting the trees in a synchronized dance. Morning Doves sang their harmonious tune. 

It was 8:30 AM. (Y/N) sat peacefully in the rocking chair that was nestled in the corner of the aged porch. A blanket draped over his lap, and a warm cup of steaming coffee in his grasp. It was mornings like that that gave him a sense of serenity, that reminded him of the world outside of his profession. That was why, in the mornings, he had one rule. One simple rule; 

No phone calls before nine. 

Granted, lives were at stake. Hunters all across the United States were taking on various jobs as he sat there, and some needed information quicker than others. He made an exception to the rule in case of an emergency, but nothing more. Most of his life was consumed with research and phone calls while he sat in a stuffy room near the back of the house. He knew that, when his reputation in the hunting community became well-known, he would need to set some rules and boundaries to allow himself some personal time. Some time to relax and reflect. 

Not everyone followed those rules, however. 

A buzz from his phone sounded next to him. It sat on a small, rusted round table next to the rocking chair. (Y/N)’s gaze turned towards the phone as it shifted with each violent vibration across the metal. He could feel the vibrating under his feet against the wood. Across the screen, Sam Winchester was written. A heavy, yet somehow content, sigh escaped past his lips as he reached over and picked up his phone. A part of him said that he should ignore it, but the other was telling him that it could be urgent. The Winchesters rarely got in contact with him before noon. 

“Hello?” He answered, his voice deep and calm. 

“Hey, (Y/N)! Dean and I were wondering if you could look something up for us?” Sam’s voice rang through the receiver, a little too cheery first thing in the morning, in (Y/N)’s opinion. They must have been up for hours by then. 

“Is the information urgent?” 

There was a long pause. “Well…”

“Mr. Winchester, what is my rule?” 

Another long pause. “No phone calls before nine.”

“Exactly, unless there was someone actively dying and we were under a time constraint. Are we on a time constraint, Mr. Winchester?” 

“Please, call me Sam.” 

“Are we on a time constraint, Sam?” 

Pause. “No. We just wanted to get whatever information we could before we headed to the police station to talk to the officers.”

“You and I both know you’re going to gather even more evidence about the case after the fact, so I think it would be wise to just go ahead and make your way to the police station. They might answer some of your questions, they might not. Hell, you might have even more questions for me by the time you’re done.” 

“You’re right, you’re right. Uh…I guess I’ll…give you a call back when we’re done.”

“After nine, of course.” (Y/N) nodded slowly. 

“Right. After nine,” 

“Thank you, Sam. You know, I always love talking to you. You’re easier to communicate with than your brother.” 

Sam chuckled deeply. “Thanks, I get that a lot,”

“Well, it’s true. Anyway, go talk to the police, and then let me know of anything you might need, alright?” 

“Alright, bye,”

“Bye,” (Y/N) ended the phone call and replaced the phone in its original position. 

He brought the cup of coffee up to his face, blowing cool air onto the surface. Steam curled around the mug as he took a sip. There were some people he didn’t mind receiving phone calls from in the morning, during his off hours. Sam Winchester was one of them. Always so polite when he had to remind him, he almost didn’t mind having to repeat himself over and over again. He knew how stressful the physical aspect of the hunting life could be, but Sam was one who never let his anger appear evident when they conversed that early in the morning. His brother, on the other hand, seemed to hold all of the anger for both brothers on his sleeve. (Y/N) had many unpleasant conversations with the older Winchester, but he also had some satisfying ones. In the end, he didn’t mind working with the Winchesters. They were the ones that called him the most. They were the ones who kept him busy and were appreciative when he was able to give them the information that they were in search of. That much he was grateful for. 

“Hello, darling,” a scratchy, baritone voice broke the placid silence. 

(Y/N) showed no physical reaction, yet he felt as if his heart had lept into his throat. It raced rapidly and he felt the familiar sensation of gooseflesh appear on his arms. He couldn’t necessarily blame it on the cool breeze. In front of him, Crowley stood, hands deep in the pockets of his black peacoat. A smirk was placed on his lips, covered by the beard that had grown out since the last time (Y/N) saw him. 

He had met Crowley some years ago through the Winchesters. It was then he had gotten his first taste of the types of connections Sam and Dean had. When they originally told him about one of their contacts being the King of Hell, he was rather skeptical at first. Rumors travel fast in the hunting world, and (Y/N) knew all of them, especially the ones that star Sam and Dean Winchester. Yet, when he had initially met Crowley, he was pleasantly surprised. He never expected an individual with a clean, lavish appearance as he. He never expected the accent either. It had shocked him at first, but not negatively. In a way, he had always assumed that the King of Hell was going to be some grotesque monster that would seem as if they dwelled deep in a humid cave. He could blame that on his ignorance. 

Since then, the handful of times he had interactions with the King of Hell, he would not say they had been horrible. Quite the opposite, they had been fairly pleasant. Crowley was cordial towards him, speaking to him in, what (Y/N) had first assumed was, a respectful tone, but later concluded that it would be more accurate to call it professional. Crowley was charismatic, a businessman. He knew how to get what he wanted out of people, and (Y/N) could see why they fell for it each time. Crowley knew exactly what to say and when to say it. That accent of his could put anyone in a trance. 

(Y/N) sat the cup of coffee down on the side table beside his phone before he placed both of his hands in his lap, his fingers folded over one another. “Good morning, Crowley. How…unexpected of you to pop in this early in the morning.” 

“Quite,” Crowley paused as he looked around, studying his environment. “I must say, I never expected a man such as yourself to own a place with such beauty.” 

(Y/N) slowly nodded. “While I appreciate the backhanded compliment, I am currently off the clock. That is if you needed anything in the first place and didn’t just stop by for some idle chit-chat.” 

“I never ‘chit-chat’. I did come by to ask for your…assistance with something.” 

“As I have said, I am off the clock. If you need my help with anything, you can come back at nine o’clock.” 

A smirk appeared in the corner of Crowley’s mouth. “Check the time, darling,” 

(Y/N)’s eyes shifted over to his phone. Hesitantly, he reached over and clicked the screen, illuminating his background of deep purples and blues. 

9:01 A.M.

As he looked back over at Crowley, he noted that the smirk was still there. Crowley shrugged, the ruffle of fabric filling the silence. 

“It’s time to clock back in.” 

(Y/N let out a sigh as he slapped his hands onto his knees, standing from his seat. He caught the blanket before it was able to fall off and folded it thrice. He then turned and laid it over the back of the rocker. He placed his phone into his pocket, then grabbed his coffee mug, the steam having dissipated since Crowley had arrived. 

“Let’s head to my study, then,” he mumbled. 

He walked past Crowley towards the screen porch door. Before he had the chance to grab it, Crowley opened it for him, startling (Y/N) for a moment. (Y/N) nodded his head. 

“Such a gentleman.” He murmured and walked into the house, Crowley following soon after. 

The foyer was small but tidy, so it seemed bigger than it was. The new floors glimmered in the morning light, and the walls were decorated with various pieces of artwork. (Y/N) took pride in renovating the older house, making it a place he was happy to call his home. 

When he had found the house for sale, he was surprised, initially, by how little it cost. Seeing the state upon purchase made him understand the drop in price almost immediately. It took several months for him to turn the once run-down house into a livable place, one where he wasn’t afraid of catching asbestos poisoning every night. Since he completed the remodeling, he has made sure that the house is well-decorated, comfortable, and clean. 

To the right of the foyer was the entryway into the kitchen. It wasn’t that large, but with one person occupying the house, he found it unnecessary to include more counter space in the renovation. To the left was the living room, well-lit with natural light in the morning and even brighter with the overhead ceiling fan at night, comfortable enough to seat many different people if he ever decided to have guests over to mingle. Ahead of Crowley and (Y/N), down the hallway, sat three doors, all of them ajar. Directly ahead was his bedroom, to the left was the guest bathroom, and to the right was his study, the one place where (Y/N) found he was spending most of his time throughout the twenty-four hours of the day. 

(Y/N) kicked off his slides, placing them next to the front door, before replacing them with a pair of slippers. He then gestured down the hallway with his head. 

“This way,” he said as he began to walk down the hallway. 

The study was a masterpiece in it of itself. The walls directly beside the door and adjacent were lined with built-in bookshelves, courtesy of (Y/N) himself. On the shelves sat various centuries' worth of lore, categorized by decade, topic, and alphabetized by the last name of the author, if the author was known, that is. On the other wall sat large windows lined side-by-side, the curtains pulled back to allow sunlight in. Sitting at an angle in the middle of the floor was a heavy mahogany desk, similar to one that would be found in a lawyer’s or politician’s office. A rolling desk chair sat behind it, something cheap yet comfortable. On top of the desk were different books that were opened to certain pages that (Y/N) had left off on, a notebook with a ballpoint pen, an LED keyboard with a matching Bluetooth mouse, and a large, curved monitor with two smaller monitors on either side. Two chairs sat in front of the desk, a place where hunters had sat multiple times when visiting and discussing business with him. 

(Y/N) rounded the corner of the desk and sat down in the office chair, the cup still grasped between his hands. He took another sip of his coffee as he scanned over the cluttered surface of his desk. As he moved books out of the way, his tongue poked into his cheek. Finally, with a triumphant ‘ah’, he pulled the brown coaster from underneath one of the book spines. He placed his mug on top of it, bent down, and turned on his computer. 

“Alright, if you want to have a seat,” (Y/N) gestured to the chair. 

“I prefer to stand.” 

“Suit yourself,” he shrugged and typed his passcode rapidly into his keyboard. 

The three monitors lit up with work he had been focused on the day before. Carefully, he saved documents and exited out of files. When the files were all tucked away and his screens were cleared, he turned his attention back to Crowley. 

“Now, what is this problem you’re having? And, please be quick about it, I have some hunters that are going to be calling me back to gather information for them as well.” 

“The Winchesters can wait,” Crowley said as he stalked forward. 

(Y/N) fought back the urge to ask how Crowley had known the Winchesters were the ones to call, for he knew the answer already. 

“Now, I seem to be having a bit of a rogue demon problem.” Crowley began to pace around the room, his eyes seeming to study the different texts that lined the walls and the scenery outside. 

“Don’t we all?” 

“Mine’s a little different.” 

“How so?” 

“You see, I control the demons, right? Specifically, I control the deals that come in when humans summon us to the crossroads. I expect demons to persuade these people in some way to get these deals by possessing family members, friends, and the like, while others are sent when they are summoned to take these deals. It’s a rather layered process, too many demons, too many steps, but it works.” 

“I see,” (Y/N) hummed as he folded his hands on top of the desk, back slouched. 

“Recently, however, it has come to my attention that there have been several demons who don’t necessarily, well, like me.” 

“I can’t imagine why,” (Y/N) mumbled, his words dripping with sarcasm. 

Crowley ignored him. “And I’ve found out by a rather reliable source that a handful of demons have been rebelling against me. Some are just not persuading people as they are supposed to and running rampant in the street while others, the ones who are summoned, are taking these individuals' souls without giving anything in return. They mess with the deal.” 

“Do you not see that as a win in your situation? You get their soul no matter what, Crowley.” 

“Ah, you see, I do, but I am a man of my word.” He stopped and placed his hand on his chest. “When deals are made, they are not meant to be broken. They are taking their souls and sending them right back to the pathetic life that they came to fix. I don’t like humans as much as the next demon, but a deal is a deal, and it should not be messed with.”

“How…noble? What does this exactly have to do with me?” 

Crowley reached into his peacoat, pulling out a sheet of folded white paper. He walked over and placed it on (Y/N)’s desk. On it was a list of locations and dates neatly written in calligraphy. Most of the locations were paired with a date from a couple of days ago, some a couple of weeks, and some were marked from that very day.

“This is a list of all known demon locations and times that they were last seen there. The crossroads demons I can deal with on my own, they will be harder for someone like you to find, but these are the demons that were supposed to be possessing family members and the such. They’re lower-ranked demons than others, so they lack the necessary powers to teleport, makes them easier to find.” 

“And what am I supposed to do with this?” He gestured to the paper with his hands. 

“Find the demons on that computer of yours, tell me where they are, and I will take care of the rest.” 

(Y/N) slowly nodded. There had been many instances where he had been able to find the location of a monster for different hunters by hacking into various CCTV cameras across the country. Some places had more cybersecurity than others, but overall, it was a simple task, something he had picked up the first month or so after he started learning the art of hacking and coding. It wouldn’t take that long for him to track some of the demons. 

“Why should I help you?” 

“Think of it this way, darling,” Crowley walked over, stood behind the desk chair, and placed a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder. 

The violent buzzing interrupted anything Crowley was going to say. (Y/N)’s legs vibrated in time with the buzzes. He reached into his pocket and fished out his phone. Sam Winchester flashed across the screen. He held up a finger to Crowley. 

“Hold on, I have to take this,” he said. 

Just before he was able to accept the call, however, Crowley snatched the phone from his hand. 

“Hey!” 

“Ah ah ah,” Crowley tsked and wagged a finger. “We are in the middle of a deal.” He ended the call and placed the phone in his pocket. 

(Y/N) clenched his jaw. He held out his hand. “Give it back, Crowley.” 

“Not until we finished our deal, darling,” 

“I never said we had a deal.” 

“Then it appears you’re not going to be getting your phone back.” 

“Crowley,” he growled. 

Crowley chuckled deeply, his chest rumbling. “So tense,” he smirked. “It must be hard. Being out here all by yourself. No ring on your finger, which means that you haven’t got a wife or husband. I’m guessing you don’t have a partner either, considering all you do is sit here and help other hunters.” Crowley slowly ran a finger over (Y/N)’s shoulder blades, eliciting a shiver from him. “How about this deal, then,” Crowley leaned down, his face merely inches from (Y/N)’s. “I get rid of some of your tension and you find the demons for me, deal?” 

Crowley’s breath was hot against (Y/N)’s face. The closeness caused his stomach to churn. (Y/N) wouldn’t deny that Crowley was an attractive man - demon, he corrected himself. He had thought so since the first time they met, yet he knew the dangers of getting involved with demons. That was why a small part of him was weary of the Winchesters, seeing how easily they got along with the King of Hell. ‘Got Along’ wasn’t necessarily as accurate as ‘tolerated’. He corrected himself again. When Crowley spoke with that accent, and when his voice was deep and gravelly, it was almost as if (Y/N) was hypnotized. 

That accent of his could put anyone in a trance.

“Crowley,” he breathed, unaware that his heart had begun to beat faster. 

“The demons get killed, I get what I want, and I leave you more satisfied than you have ever been before,” Crowley’s hand slowly moved up and began to trace along (Y/N)’s jawline. His fingers stopped when he got to (Y/N)’s chin. He tilted his head up so that they were looking into each other’s eyes, their noses brushing against one another. “Have we got a deal?” 

Crowley’s eyes were just as hypnotic as his voice. It was as if (Y/N) was staring into an iced glass of whiskey. It was hard to believe that, behind those eyes, stood a dark entity who controlled the deepest, darkest depths of Hell. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him, telling him that it was a bad idea, that he should retreat and reject the offer. 

(Y/N) was completely mesmerized. 

“Yes,” he whispered faintly. 

The corner of Crowley’s lips curled upward. “Then let’s kiss on it.” 

(Y/N) didn’t have a chance to respond before Crowley’s lips were on his. 

It was heated, hungry, and (Y/N) was slightly ashamed to admit that it had taken his breath away. Ashamed to admit just how engrossed in Crowley’s charismatic attitude he had been. Swiftly, (Y/N) stood from his chair and he was pressed against the desk in an instant. Crowley’s hands worked their way underneath (Y/N)’s t-shirt. It wasn’t long before Crowley’s coat and (Y/N)’s shirt were on the floor. As Crowley reached behind him to grab at the backs of his thighs, (Y/N) pressed his hands firmly on his chest. 

“Not here, not here,” he pulled back from his lips, panting from the lack of oxygen. “Let’s go to my room.” 

Crowley smirked and ran his tongue over his bottom lip. “Lead the way, darling,” he pulled back. 

(Y/N) was quick to pull himself away from the desk and turn to walk out of the room. His strides were long and silent, almost as if he was floating out of the room and towards his bedroom. Crowley followed behind him, moving just as fast if not a little bit faster. He tore off his tie and dropped it onto the floor as they entered the room. Their lips slammed into one another once more as they fell back onto the bed unceremoniously, their bodies bouncing. 

(Y/N) was incredibly hard, he felt like a teenager on prom night. He tried to think back and remember the last time he had sex. Had it been two, maybe three weeks? Months. No. Two or three years, it had been. He had lost count. Crowley had been right, he had been so absorbed in his work that he had neglected the wants he never knew he had. The needs. He had found himself to be so uptight as of late that the lack of sex hadn’t been something he considered a factor with such a change of mood. Maybe the sex was just what he needed. It seemed that Crowley knew more about him than he realized. 

(Y/N)’s primary goal was getting Crowley’s clothes off. He wanted to see him, wanted to take in every inch of him. Before he was able to grab at Crowley’s belt, however, Crowley pulled back and lifted a hand to stop him. Again, (Y/N) was breathless. He stopped and looked up at him with a questioning gaze. 

“Let’s skip the stripping, shall we?” His voice had gotten deeper, darker. His voice alone should have sent the sirens blaring and the red flags waving in (Y/N)’s head, telling him to stop, telling him that it was a bad idea, but all it did was deepen the lust and make his cock twitch in his boxers. 

With the snap of his fingers, their clothes had vanished. Immediately, (Y/N) noticed the temperature change, causing his nipples to harden into stiff peaks. He wasn’t worried about his own body, however. His attention was all on Crowley. 

He took his time to examine his lover. His eyes trailed. He noted the hair that was meticulously placed over his pecs, the curve of his stomach. Crowley didn’t have a six-pack, but he was nowhere near fat. A slight pudge was probably the best adjective to use. He spotted the tattoos almost instantly, something that came as a surprise to him but wasn’t unappreciated. Crowley’s happy trail started right below his belly button and trailed down to his pelvis, and the mere sight of Crowley’s cock made (Y/N)’s eyes go wide. 

Crowley was huge. 

Bigger than he had ever seen on a lover before. 

To say he was surprised was a massive understatement. He never expected Crowley to be sporting a cock of that size. (Y/N) felt inept next to him. Yet, despite his unbelievable length, (Y/N) felt his mouth water and cock twitch at the thought of it being inside of him. Crowley chuckled. 

“Like what you see?” He questioned. 

“Yes,” (Y/N) breathed, although he knew the question was rhetorical. 

Crowley’s chest rumbled as he leaned down and began to leave kisses down (Y/N)’s neck, down towards the valley of his pecs. He stopped at his nipples, giving each of them attention with small licks and a suckle. A gasp fell from (Y/N)’s lips as his hands occupied themselves with exploring Crowley’s body. (Y/N)’s mind was fogged over, the feeling of being that close to someone already so intense. He really did feel like a teenager. 

“You’re so beautiful, love,” Crowley purred as his lips traveled further down his body, ghosting over his stomach. “Almost disappoints me that I’m going to leave you a whimpering mess by the time I’m done.” 

“Crowley, please,” 

“Begging already, I see.” 

Crowley’s lips moved down until they reached (Y/N)’s own happy trail. Just before he reached (Y/N)’s cock, he pulled back, earning a disappointed groan from the man below. The smirk on his face told (Y/N) that Crowley loved the effect that he was having on him. That it was boosting his ego, and if he had been in the right state of mind, he would have stopped right there. The King of Hell didn’t need more of a complex than he already had. 

“Spread your legs for me.” 

(Y/N) complied, legs parting as Crowley moved onto his stomach. He left kisses on (Y/N)’s inner thighs. 

“Have you had anything in this pretty little hole recently?” Crowley asked. 

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. “No,” he admitted. 

“Then I guess I’ll have to open you up, won’t I? I don’t want to hurt you.” 

It was an oddly sweet sentiment, coming from a demon. Something that a part of (Y/N) didn’t really expect. Yet the other part of him told him that it made sense with Crowley’s character. He was a businessman. He made deals and he kept them. He wanted him to feel good, and (Y/N) wouldn’t be satisfied with his part of the deal if he was in pain. 

“I have lube in my nightstand,” (Y/N) spoke up. He could feel Crowley’s hot breath hovering over his exposed hole. 

“I’ll get to it, darling,” 

Crowley’s tongue lapped at his hole, and (Y/N) swore that he would come from that single lick. He couldn’t hold back the moan as Crowley’s tongue worked around the pink muscle, almost teasing it. The tip of his tongue slipped past the ring for a moment before retreating. Crowley’s arms wrapped around both of his thighs and seemed to pull him closer with godly strength. Then, when he was closer, Crowley’s wet tongue finally slipped past the tight muscle and wiggled its way into his hole. 

A deep moan escaped past (Y/N)’s lips as one of his hands shot down and gripped Crowley’s hair. His head was thrown back in ecstasy, thankful for the pillow that was underneath him, thankful that he had decided to move to the bedroom instead of the study. He had concluded that the lack of sex didn’t make him feel like a teenager again, he was a teenager. Rather, it seemed he had a teenager’s lack of control. His cock was twitching, begging to be touched, begging for Crowley to wrap his hand around it and stroke. (Y/N) was too lost in pleasure to do it on his own, and it was just foreplay. Crowley was only preparing him for what was yet to come. If Crowley had him seeing stars already, he knew that Crowley’s prediction of him turning into a ‘whimpering mess’ would be accurate. 

Crowley’s tongue was skilled. He reached places inside of him that (Y/N) didn’t even know existed. All too soon, he felt the familiar jerk of his balls, the tensing muscles begging for release. The knot in his stomach was forming. 

“C-Crowley,” he moaned. “I’m gonna come. I-” 

Crowley hummed against him and pulled back as soon as the warning came to be. Visibly, (Y/N) relaxed, but his face expressed disappointment, much to Crowley’s amusement. 

“Already close to release, and I haven’t even touched your cock yet,” Crowley teased, and the words caused (Y/N)’s cheeks to darken with blush. “Can’t have that. I want this to last. I want you to break.” 

Crowley hovered over (Y/N) again, their noses inches apart. (Y/N) could feel Crowley’s cock brush against his, causing his cock to twitch violently. Again, Crowley chuckled. He turned his head and reached over to the nightstand, opening the small drawer. It wasn’t as cluttered as the top of (Y/N) desk, but he had to admit that it needed to be cleaned out. It didn’t take long to find the bottle of lube, though, barely used. When Crowley moved back, he kissed him. That kiss was softer, sweet, the complete opposite of the others they had shared. 

He pulled away and sat up, leaning back on his heels as he uncapped the lube. He squirted a generous amount onto his right index and middle finger before he set the lube to the side, open and ready if he were to need more. He rubbed his fingers together to spread out the liquid before lowering his hand to (Y/N) wet, needy hole. His index finger began to circle it and he saw how (Y/N)’s cock twitched again. The smirk remained on his face. 

“Are you ready?” He asked softly. 

“Yes,” (Y/N) barely gave him time to finish the question. “Yes, Crowley, please,” 

“I’ll never get over how sweet that word sounds.” 

Crowley pushed one finger into him and the stars promptly returned. (Y/N)’s mouth hung open as if he were to say something, but nothing came to mind. Words didn’t exist anymore, only Crowley and his fingers. It didn’t take long for Crowley to begin to pump his finger into him, his dark eyes focused on (Y/N)’s face, intensely taking in every reaction he gave. Sweat began to glisten on (Y/N)’s brow, dripping down the side of his face and onto the sheet below. His hands were fisted at his sides, straining the bedding. When Crowley felt his hole loosen even the slightest, he added his middle finger. 

After several seconds of having Crowley insert his second finger, the knot was back and forming inside (Y/N)’s stomach. It was tight and just kept getting tighter with each stroke. When Crowley’s fingers curled ever so slightly, (Y/N)’s body violently jerked and he had to hold onto the bed as he fought back the orgasm that was quickly approaching. He went to say something, but all that came out were moans and whimpers of pleasure. He didn’t trust himself to stop Crowley before his impending climax. 

Of course, Crowley was observant himself and knew when to back away. 

Crowley pulled his hand away from him, leaving his hole empty and his mind screaming for release. Crowley brought his fingers to his lips, wrapping them around his digits as he suckled the leftover lube and flavor off of them. He quirked a brow as he took his fingers out of his mouth. 

“Strawberry flavored?” He questioned. 

(Y/N)’s chest rose and fell at a rapid pace. His chest and face gleamed with sweat, ever more apparent because of the morning light that filtered past his blinds. 

“It was all they had left.” He was able to mutter. 

A deep chuckle rumbled within Crowley’s chest as he grabbed the lube from beside him once again. That time, he put some into the palm of his right hand and capped the bottle, setting it back onto the side table. He wrapped his hand around his cock and lathered it up with the lube. He hissed, jaw clenched at the cool temperature. 

“You don’t mind raw, do you, darling?” He asked as he shifted in the bed so that he hovered directly above (Y/N) writhing body. 

“No,” (Y/N) was quick to respond. “No, I don’t mind just, please, please Crowley.” His desperate cries would have normally made him embarrassed, ashamed of the mess he had turned into, but he couldn’t care less. His brain didn’t belong to him anymore. It belonged to Crowley. His body wasn’t his, it was Crowley’s. All of him belonged to Crowley. 

And he was fine with that. 

“I’ll go slow,” Crowley said. “Let me know if it’s too much for you to handle.” 

It was too much to handle when Crowley was eating him out, but (Y/N) knew what he meant. He gave a quick nod of understanding. His hands immediately moved from the sheets to Crowley. One hand was placed on Crowley’s shoulder, while the other reached back, fingers entangled in the mess of brown hair. 

One of Crowley’s hands was placed on the bed, holding himself up, while the other hand reached down and grabbed his cock. He guided it to (Y/N)’s hole and, when he felt comfortable with the positioning, he moved his hand and placed it on the other side of (Y/N)’s body. Slowly, he moved his hips forward, the head of his cock pushing past the ring of muscle with some resistance before he entered him. 

(Y/N) wasn’t seeing stars anymore - he was seeing a whole galaxy. The slight painful strain mixed with bliss as Crowley pushed the head of his cock inside of him was almost too much to bear at first. He felt like his balls were going to explode with pleasure. His nails dug into Crowley’s shoulder and scalp as he continued to inch his way inside. Crowley studied (Y/N)’s face, the way his mouth hung open and eyes closed. When half of his cock was engulfed in his warmth, Crowley pulled back out a couple of inches before he thrust back inside. (Y/N) couldn’t stop the sounds from escaping his lips. Equally, as such, Crowley let out a deep, guttural groan. 

“So tight, darling. So…fucking tight,” he growled out, sounding almost feral. 

“M-More, Crowley, please, more,” (Y/N)’s voice had gone up in pitch and the need was laced throughout his tone. 

Crowley didn’t need any more indication. His hips began to pick up in speed, slowly at first, but after a while of making sure that his lover wasn’t in any pain, he went faster. While (Y/N) wasn’t able to take all of Crowley’s length inside of him, what was able to fit resulted in a cacophony of moans that echoed throughout the room. The bed rocked, the frame squeaking underneath the pressure as Crowley rhythmically snapped his hips. 

When (Y/N) had gotten used to the pleasure - ‘used to’ wasn’t the right phrasing, but rather adapted to it - he was able to open his eyes long enough to reach up, cup Crowley’s cheeks, and bring himself up to kiss him roughly. Crowley returned the kiss. Their tongues danced with each other. (Y/N) could taste a mixture of himself and the strawberry-flavored lube on Crowley’s tongue. 

Each thrust brought a new wave of pleasure, Crowley’s cock brushing against his prostate. (Y/N)’s cock and balls jerked and he knew that he wasn’t going to last much longer. He pulled away, one of his hands falling to Crowley’s chest, which was equally as sweat-covered as his. It was difficult to find the strength to speak, at first, but he mustered up what little control of himself he had to do so.  

“Crowley,” he moaned. “I’m gonna come. Please, can I come?” 

“Not yet,” Crowley sounded breathless. “I want to come with you.” 

“Want you to come inside me.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes!” He moaned loudly as Crowley’s cock stroked his prostate again. 

Crowley growled as his lips dove down towards (Y/N)’s neck, littering it with small kisses, teeth scraping over his skin. 

“I can’t wait to fill you up. Can’t wait to make you mine,” Crowley growled. 

(Y/N) did everything in his power to hold back his orgasm, the one thing he had been trying to reach all this time. It became harder and harder the more they went on. Finally, he felt Crowley’s thrusts start to sputter, and Crowley’s grunts and moans were getting higher in pitch. Crowley reached between their bodies, his hand finding (Y/N)’s cock and he began to stroke it in time with his thrusts. 

“Come.” 

And that was all the permission he needed. (Y/N) came hard, cock spasming violently in Crowley’s hand and balls convulsing as he shot his load onto his and Crowley’s chests and stomachs. Planets, stars, galaxies, universes, it was almost as if (Y/N) was lost in time and space itself. If he didn’t know any better, he swore he would have passed out from the pleasure had it not been for Crowley keeping him grounded. 

Following his orgasm, he felt Crowley still inside of him and, soon, felt the warm sensation of his load deep within his hole. They stayed there, interlocked with one another, their bodies completely frozen in time. What felt like ages later, Crowley slowly pulled out of him, a wet pop echoing throughout the room, before he collapsed beside him on the bed. (Y/N)’s arms fell beside him, his chest moving rapidly as he struggled to regain his composure. 

As he lay there, post-orgasmic clarity set in. 

He had fucked the King of Hell. 

More importantly, he had fucked the King of Hell and liked it. 

God, he was such a terrible hunter. 

His eyes trailed over to Crowley, who was still recovering from his own orgasm. He could see faint, red scratch marks across his face, chest, and right shoulder. (Y/N) didn’t even realize his nails had dug into him until then. Crowley turned his head towards him. 

“Well you weren’t the whimpering mess that I assumed you would be,” Crowley began. “But I’ll take begging any day.” 

(Y/N) couldn’t help but roll his eyes and he had found the strength to speak to be gone by that point. What was he even supposed to say to him? Thanks for the sex, I’ll go find your demons now? With one-night stands, he would always just get up, grab his clothes, and walk out of the motel room, but this was a little different. He was in his own home. Was he just supposed to kick Crowley out? That would seem a bit rude, wouldn’t it? 

“Care for a cuddle?” Crowley’s words broke his train of thought.

“A what?” His voice had returned. 

“A cuddle.” 

(Y/N) snorted. “The King of Hell wants to cuddle.” He said it more like a statement rather than a question.

“I take care of my lovers, (Y/N). Aftercare is just as important as foreplay.” 

(Y/N) opened his mouth to speak, but found, again, that the words were lost to him. He just gave a simple nod and the two of them moved closer together. Crowley wrapped an arm underneath his shoulders and over his waist, pulling their naked bodies close. (Y/N) placed one of his hands on Crowley’s torso, his head lying against his chest. A part of him was expecting to hear a heartbeat echo in his ear, but the lack thereof only reminded him of his sins. They sat in silence for a while, embracing one another. Crowley’s hand slowly rubbed (Y/N)’s hips, and it made him realize just how sore he was going to be for a while. 

He didn’t care. 

“You know,” Crowley finally spoke up. “If you ever become too tense, you can always give me a call. I have no problem giving in to your needs.” 

“I’m not that desperate,” (Y/N) mumbled. 

Crowley chuckled, and (Y/N) could feel the vibration against his fingertips and cheek. “I beg to differ, darling, with the way you were just begging for release.” 

(Y/N)’s cheeks heated up. He knew what he had done was wrong, but whoever said that hunters had to be perfect? Or right, for that matter. No one had gotten hurt - maybe he would hurt for a while after this, but that was beside the point - and demons were going to be hunted down as a result of their deal. Crowley wasn’t a selfish lover, quite the contrary. He was the best that (Y/N) ever had. He was only human. Despite the moral aspect of it all, perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to have someone like Crowley just a call away. 

For his needs. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

Link between light pollution and interest in astronomy

Picture walking outside on a dark, cloudless evening. You look up to admire the stars — maybe even a planet, if you’re lucky — and a sense of wonder washes of you. New research from the University of Washington shows this might be more than a memorable experience: It could ultimately spark scientific curiosity and influence life choices.

Rodolfo Cortes Barragan, research scientist the UW Institute for Learning and Brain Sciences (I-LABS), and Andrew Meltzoff, co-director of I-LABS and professor of psychology, recently co-authored a study in Nature Scientific Reports showing a link between the ability to see the stars unblocked by light pollution and an interest in astronomy.

UW News spoke with the authors about their study and its surprising implications for broadening access to science and education.

Where did the idea for this study come from?

Rodolfo Cortes Barragan: As psychologists, we know that changes to the environment can impact people’s behavior. Yet, the changes brought upon by light pollution — a hot topic in astronomy, biology and environmental science — have received little attention from the social sciences. We considered it important to examine how light pollution might affect the human mind, focusing on the consequences of light pollution for human emotions and scientific behavior.

Andrew Meltzoff: Astronomy often functions as a “gateway” to science as a whole. People, including young children, look up and are enchanted by seeing the starry night sky. They feel a sense of wonder which triggers curiosity about themselves and the universe. Many famous astronomers have remarked that they got their start in science based on childhood experiences of wondering about the night sky. We decided to study these reports scientifically.

How do you define the feeling of wonder about the universe?

RCB: The feeling of “wonder” is a particular conjunction of emotions. It involves awe and amazement. It involves curiosity — the desire to know more. It is joyful. It involves elation.

To examine wonder, we made use of a nationally representative survey conducted by the Pew Research Center of more than 35,000 U.S. residents. This survey included a question about peoples’ “wonder about the universe.” We combined these results with previously reported detailed physical measurements of light pollution. We found that U.S. populations that live under low light pollution report feeling more “wonder about the universe.” This was a specific relationship. Light pollution was not linked to other emotions that were assessed in the same Pew survey, but it was strongly connected to wonder.

Just as importantly, we found that “wonder about the universe” was directly related to peoples’ behavioral interest in astronomy. We used a wide array of measures of interest in astronomy, including behaviors like using Google to search for “astronomy,” signing up to have one’s name sent to Mars aboard the Perseverance rover, and even applying to become a NASA astronaut. In other words, the data showed us that, in locations in the U.S. where light pollution is low, feelings of wonder about the universe and interest in astronomy are high. Features of the physical environment are linked to people’s psychological experience as well as their actual behavior.

Can you elaborate on the idea raised in the paper that light pollution is an equity issue?

RCB: We all want all children, and adults, to have the equal opportunity for inspiration and for science. But what our results are suggesting is that people within the U.S., depending on where they live, do not have equitable access to the dark night sky, which often promotes an interest in science. If you can’t experience something, it is not as easy to become motivated by it.

AM: If a child grows up in an environment where they don’t see the stars, they’re not as likely to ask childlike questions about them: “Why do the stars twinkle?” or “How many are there up there?” It's a powerful experience for a child to be able to see the Milky Way and the Big Dipper, but many children don’t have that opportunity anymore. Seeing the starry night sky may change kids’ behavior in a good way. For example, if a child can see the stars, they might go read up on astronomy or space exploration and begin to dream. Astronomy may indeed be a “gateway” science that draws children, both boys and girls, into curiosity-driven programs and social clubs.

What’s the big picture you want to convey about this study?

RCB: We hope that our study inspires more research along these lines, and that this work combining psychology and astronomy will trigger the “I wonder” reflex in other scientists, prompting interdisciplinary work across the arts and sciences.

AM: This study brings together two wonders that have inspired scientists and poets over the ages — the heavens above and our human actions on earth. One is studied by astronomers and the other by psychologists. Can we connect the two? A childlike question to be sure, but one that motivates us to try to dig deeper and find out more.

[tabitha42]

The Wizard's Apprentice - Chapter 38

Saffron is just a lowly apprentice with barely a successful firebolt to her name. So what chance does she have with the arch mage she's slowly falling in love with?

Gale x Tav, slow burn, eventual smut

Chapter 1 Previous chapter Next chapter

The air was tense as the group watched Malitas, prepared for an attack should he turn hostile.

“Questions?” He spat, looking at the group. “What questions?”

“What spells did you cast last time you were here?” Shadowheart asked, deciding to get straight to the point. She had expected to see a look of surprise or anger when he realised they knew what he’d been doing. Instead, she saw confusion. He looked like he might question why she was asking, but decided in the end just to go along with it. 

“I cast two spells - one to conjure the book, which I cast twice, and one to summon the portal. Are you satisfied?” Shadowheart narrowed her eyes, certain there must be something more to this. 

“Did you do anything to anyone while you were here?” she asked, trying to keep vague enough to not make him realise she was asking about Saff, but specific enough that he had to answer the question. Unfortunately, all it achieved was more confused looks.  

“What are you talking about?” he asked. 

“Answer the question,” she said firmly. While it wasn’t possible to outright lie while under the spell’s effects, it was possible to avoid the question, if one worded their responses carefully enough. Malitas shook his head in annoyance, clearly unsure how to answer the question.

“...I spoke to people? Is that the answer you want?” he said in exasperation, then turned to Saff. “Saffron, what is going on?” he demanded, sternly enough that she flinched slightly behind Gale.

“I’m the one asking the questions,” Shadowheart said firmly, wanting to get his attention off Saff after seeing her reaction. 

Briefly, the wound on her hand flared. She winced and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hide it, not wanting to show any weakness in front of Malitas. Gritting her teeth, she opened her eyes and looked at him again, and was glad he didn’t seem to have noticed as it took him a few moments to take his attention away from Saff. 

“Why?? What have I done to arouse such suspicion?” he demanded as he turned back to Shadowheart. 

“You’re really asking that? After how you acted last time you were here?” She responded incredulously. Even if he hadn’t cast anything on Saff, his actions last time were enough to warrant suspicion in her mind. 

He sighed and looked away for a moment, though there was a look on his face that seemed to imply he agreed with her. 

“Alright, I can see why you would find me untrustworthy. In fact, perhaps this Zone of Truth is fortuitous, as I had something I wished to say to you all that you would likely not have believed otherwise given how suspicious you clearly are of me.” 

He took a deep breath and cleared his throat. 

“I do not hold any ill will towards any of you. Quite on the contrary, I wish to help you. I have been researching how to cure all of you, as I’m sure you have gathered by now. I wish us to be allies against the common enemy we have in this Cult of the Absolute. And… I understand that my conduct last time was not conducive to such an outcome.”

He took another deep breath and Shadowheart had to smirk to herself - he was clearly not a man who was used to having to apologise, and she very much enjoyed seeing him squirm as he was forced to do so now. 

“I made a grave mistake yesterday, one I wish to rectify.”

He reached into the bag he had slung over his shoulder, pulled out a book and turned to Gale. 

“I am told this is incredibly difficult to acquire outside of Candlekeep. As such, perhaps it is one you have not been able to read yet… and perhaps it will provide the answers you need.” 

He walked over and held the book out to him, notably staying within the Zone of Truth. Gale took it and looked at the title engraved on its ageing cover - Netherese Artefacts and Their Uses. His eyes widened slightly - he’d tried to get hold of this book while in his year-long exile, but had been unable to from the confines of his tower. 

“I have taken the liberty of bookmarking anything I thought sounded relevant to your condition,” Malitas added. Gale glanced at the various bookmarks sticking out of the pages and opened the book to the first one, seeing Malitas had left some notes - in Common this time - detailing possible connections between the artefacts described in the book and the one in his chest. 

“If your offer to allow me to help study the orb is still on the table, I would like to take you up on it. But I understand if you would prefer not to work with me on the matter,” Malitas continued, stepping back to the centre of the spell that encircled him. “I also do not expect you to give your answer now if you need some time to think. I only hope that you consider it.” 

Gale remained quiet. Truthfully, he didn’t know his answer. He didn’t need help with the orb as much as he had done before, though despite it now being stabilised, it still had an effect on his magic. Having it removed entirely was certainly preferable to simply having it stabilised. Malitas’s apology seemed genuine enough - he supposed it had to be, given the Zone of Truth - yet, if he was honest, he still didn’t want anything to do with him. 

“This is a very sudden change of heart,” he commented as he looked up at Malitas from the book. 

“Yes, well… Saffron’s words last night made me reflect, and… I realised what a mistake I’d made. I should never have said such things to you. It was a lapse in judgement… one I hope you can forgive me for,” he said, echoing Gale’s phrasing last night in regards to his own mistakes with the orb. “But as I say, you need not decide now.” 

There was a moment of quiet among them until Malitas spoke again. 

“Though I must confess, while I can see that my words last night could be seen as hostile, I still don’t understand what exactly I’m being accused of here. What spell do you think I cast?” 

They remained quiet, none of them wanting to give away what had happened - though he noticed a couple of them glance quickly towards Saff. He followed their gaze and saw her look away, tensing up. Gale subtly took her hand in support, but not subtle enough that Malitas didn’t notice. 

“Saffron?” he asked, his voice softening from its usual sharp tone. She flinched slightly, squeezing Gale’s hand, firmly keeping her gaze away from him…

Shadowheart pulled his attention back as she moved to pick up his notebook from the table, then walked up to him and placed it in his hands. 

“We’re done with your research. You can go now,” she said simply, before stepping back out of the zone. He looked at her for a moment, then glanced back to Saff, before looking down at the book. 

“Did you make any progress with it?” he asked, turning to Gale, who twitched slightly at what he had to now tell him. 

“No… I didn’t,” he admitted. Malitas looked like he might have wanted to make a smug comment on the matter, but instead held his tongue. 

“Well, then I shall continue with it,” he said, before the book disappeared with a wave of his hand. 

“Before you go,” Gale started, holding his hand out slightly to Shadowheart, indicating to her not to drop her spell just yet. “I have some questions of my own for you.” 

“Then please, ask away,” he said, holding his arms out in an open gesture before putting them behind his back. 

“The spell you detailed in your book - would you be able to cast it yourself?” 

Malitas looked surprised, and rather offended, by the question. 

“You think I wouldn’t be able to cast the spell I have outlined in my own research?” he asked in disbelief. 

“Theory is one thing, practical application is quite another. Now please, answer the question,” Gale said firmly. 

“Yes! Of course I would be able to cast it,” he said confidently, though Gale looked at him sceptically through narrowed eyes, his disbelief very clear. “To doubt my word right now is to doubt the skills of your cleric,” Malitas said, gesturing to Shadowheart. 

“The Zone of Truth doesn’t guarantee you can cast the spell, it only guarantees you believe you can cast it, which speaks less to your skills and more to your ego,” Gale pointed out.

Malitas’s eyes widened as the others stifled laughs around him. 

“I have come here trying to make amends, and you would stand there and insult me and baselessly doubt my abilities?” he said, anger starting to rise in his manner of speech. 

“When I tried to make amends you were only too happy to insult me and baseless doubt my abilities,” Gale countered. 

“I hardly think that was baseless…” Malitas murmured, unable to hold his tongue anymore. 

“And neither is this - I have seen your attempt at spell crafting.” Malitas gave him a confused look. “Has abscondere cicatrices a crudeli iudicio mundi,” Gale said, reciting the spell Saff said he’d given her to hide the scar. “If that’s the best you can come up with for something so simple, you are hardly qualified to call yourself a master wizard.” 

Malitas twitched as he looked to Saff, who was very firmly keeping her gaze away from him. He turned back to Gale. 

“You judge my abilities based on one unfinished spell written under circumstances you do not understand.” 

“Oh, I understand them perfectly fine,” Gale insisted. “I think, despite all your grandiose claims, your skills are no greater than that of a novice.” 

Malitas looked like he’d been slapped. They’d certainly found a way to strike a chord with him. 

He clenched his fists as he seethed, clearly having to keep himself calm. When he finally spoke, it was through gritted teeth. 

“I think, Gale, it’s time you and I had a word in private.” 

Gale felt a charge of Weave in the air, and in an instant, everyone around them collapsed to the ground and the Zone of Truth disappeared. 

Gale gasped and stepped back, his mind racing as he looked over the unmoving bodies of his friends. Instinctively he dropped the book and raised his hands in a defensive spell, but before he could cast anything his muscles seized up and he found himself completely unable to move, struggling against the magical restraints that bound him. 

“Let me make one thing absolutely clear, Gale,” Malitas said, the hint of a threat in his voice as he began to approach. “If I wanted to attack you, you would be dead before you even knew what was happening.” Gale’s arms were pulled down to his sides as Malitas stopped in front of him, arms still behind his back. “So don’t try to fight me.” 

Gale struggled against his restraints as he glared at Malitas. 

“What have you done to them?!” he demanded, his voice straining. Malitas rolled his eyes. 

“They are asleep. I told you, I want to help you all, not hurt you. Now, as for the spell you mentioned - when I wrote it the scar was significantly worse than it is now, the discolouration covered half her face and, most importantly, the clerics trying to heal her had placed a number of enchantments on her intended to fight the necrosis - I had to ensure my magic would not interfere with theirs. It was also written in a rush in the hopes of giving Saffron some semblance of her life back as soon as possible. She then found her own solution to the problem before I was able to finish a revised version of the spell. Does that clear up your doubts?”

Gale seethed and reluctantly had to admit that that made sense. And given the current state of his companions, he also had to reluctantly admit that Malitas had not been exaggerating his abilities. 

“Ok, fine! I acknowledge your skill. But if you want to help Saff then this is not the solution!” He insisted, still struggling against the spell that held him. “I know you’re trying to protect her but all you’re doing is hurting her!” 

“Am I?” He challenged, cocking his head to the side slightly. “I suppose you’d prefer I stand aside while you dig your claws into her?” 

He was taken by surprise by that phrasing as Malitas narrowed his eyes at him. 

“I had resolved to give you the benefit of the doubt, but I’m starting to think that was a misguided decision. I know your intentions with her. I know what you want from her. I will not allow you to use her for your own desires while you find your way back to Mystra!” 

“It’s not like that!” he shouted, tugging against the restraints. “I swear to you! I am not using her and I have no desire to return to Mystra!”

“Hah! You expect me to believe that?” he laughed incredulously. “Returning to Mystra is your only hope to regain the power you lost. I don’t believe for one moment you would ever throw that away.” 

“If you don’t believe me then wake up the others and let me declare it in the Zone of Truth,” Gale said, but Malitas just laughed and shook his head.

“Somehow I don’t trust your cleric friend to be impartial in this matter and ensure the spell’s effectiveness on you as she did on me,” he argued. 

Gale sighed deeply and looked away as he realised what he’d have to admit to convince him. 

“You want to know the truth? Fine. Everything you said about her last time, about what she did and how I felt about her… it was true.” 

Malitas’s expression shifted to one of surprise and curiosity as Gale winced. 

“I did not realise it until it was spelled out for me. She used me and left me for dead.” 

Finally he looked back to Malitas. 

“Why would I want to go back to someone like that?” 

“Because she is your only chance for power,” he replied, still not convinced yet. “I have read a lot about you over these last few days, Gale Dekarios, and those that know you paint a very clear picture of a wizard hungry for power, driven by his ego, his skills matched only by his ambition. No matter how powerful you became, you sought more. Even when you were with the goddess of magic, it was not enough for you, and that lead to your downfall. Now you can swallow your feelings, beg forgiveness and regain that power once more, or give it all up. I think I know which one of those is in your nature.” 

“You’re wrong,” he said firmly, holding his gaze. “I don’t want any of that back.” “Really? I doubt that,” Malitas said, folding his arms. “Mystra can offer you endless power. Saffron can offer you…”

He trailed off slightly, his expression softening just slightly as he looked down at Saff, sleeping soundly by Gale’s feet. 

“Saffron can offer you a great many things , but I don’t think you’re the sort to appreciate any of them.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he growled, but was taken by surprise by the unexpectedly soft look in his eyes as he answered. 

“Saffron has not a malicious bone in her body. She sees the best in everyone, no matter what they do to her. When she loves, she does so with fierce devotion. She will give you everything she has… and I can see no outcome other than you destroying it all and breaking her heart.” 

He stepped back, his usually icy demeanour returning. 

“You would have me stand aside and let it happen. I think not. Saffron has already suffered enough due to my inaction, I will not make the same mistake again.” 

He turned to walk away, raising his hand to dispel the magic and end the conversation. “You’re talking about Aryn.” He paused, his hand lingering in place. 

“She told you about him, then,” he said, still facing away from Gale. 

“She did. She told me what he did… and how you tried to help her. I know you’re trying to protect her and stop it happening again. I know you blame yourself and think you have to make up for failing her before. But you can’t fix it by stopping anyone else from ever getting close to her. What happened was terrible, but it wasn’t your fault, and this isn’t the solution.”

It took a lot to force himself to try to sympathise with Malitas right now. He didn’t even know if what he was saying was entirely true - were Malitas’s actions truly driven by guilt? And even if they were, was that enough to justify everything he’d said? Gale wasn’t sure, but he knew he had to say something to try to get through to him, otherwise he might be about to make an enemy out of a very powerful wizard. 

There was a long pause, the air thick with tension. Malitas remained completely still, unreadable… til finally Gale saw him let out a breath as his hand lowered, and the magic that was holding him in place finally released him. He stumbled forward slightly, regaining the feeling in his muscles.

“I wonder how easily you’d say that…” Malitas started, his voice quiet and reflective, “...if you were the one that could have stopped it.”  

His tone was one Gale had not heard from him before - soft, even pained. He looked down slightly, contemplating the question. 

“Perhaps I wouldn’t be able to say it easily. Perhaps I would blame myself as you do. But I would know that trying to scare off anyone who falls in love with her is not the answer.” 

“Is that truly what’s happening here?” he asked, turning back now to face him. “Are you in love with her?” 

“I am,” he answered sincerely. “I know you think I’m another Aryn, but I swear to you, I would never hurt her. She means everything to me.” 

“After just 12 days? You barely know her,” he countered. 

“We’ve been through more in 12 days than I’ve been through with anyone else in my life. We’ve faced perilous odds, fought side by side, helped each other through everything… I don’t know if I could have done it all without her.” 

Malitas took a long look at him. 

“And when the fights and perilous odds are gone, and the thrill of adventure is replaced by the tedium of domesticity, will you still love her? When your evenings are not spent celebrating your survival, but filling out taxes and doing laundry, will your passion remain? Or will you find yourself craving the wonders that Mystra showed you? Will you yearn for the infinite impossibilities open only to a goddess, that Saffron could never give you?”

“No,” Gale said firmly. “This life - adventure and danger - it’s not for me. Laundry and taxes… that sounds wonderful if I can do it with her. Yes, there are many things Mystra can give that Saff cannot… but there is so much more that Saff can give that Mystra cannot.” 

Malitas watched him for a long moment, assessing him, his mind ticking over unspoken thoughts. Gale had never felt so scrutinised in his life, but he held his ground, confident in his words. 

Finally Malitas let out a small sigh as his gaze moved down to Saff.

“She deserves the world, Gale…” he said softly, watching her for a moment before looking back to him. “Can you give that to her?” 

“I can give her the world, and so much more,” he said confidently, even a bit cockily. He could swear he saw just the slightest hint of a smile pull at the corners of Malitas's mouth. 

“Then I suppose I have no choice then but to trust you… for now, at least. But if you hurt her, Gale… well, I will leave it to your imagination what I will do to you,” he said, making a small gesture to the rest of the group, a reminder of what he was capable of. Gale felt a vague sense of déjà vu as he found himself reminded of Astarion threatening to drain him if he hurt Saff. He wondered which of them would get to him first should that eventuality ever occur.

“A good thing for me, then, that that won’t happen,” he replied. Malitas watched him for a moment, before finally stepping back. His gaze went to Saff and softened once more. 

“Gale… if what I think happened last time I was here is indeed the case, then… please, tell her I’m sorry. I never intended to make her feel that way.” 

There was genuine remorse in his voice as he spoke. Gale was sure Malitas had the same initial thoughts as him, about reminding Saff of Aryn. Now that they knew it wasn’t the result of a spell, that theory seemed to be the only explanation. Yet she’d been so convinced it wasn’t that…

“You think you reminded her of Aryn?” he asked. 

“It’s happened before,” he said quietly, his eyes still on her. “Someone or something has triggered a flashback for her. Those memories still affect her far more than she lets on.” 

Gale looked down at her too now, sleeping peacefully on the ground next to him. 

“She was pretty sure that wasn’t what happened.” Malitas looked up at him in confusion as Gale raised his gaze back to him. 

“She said that the flashbacks always felt very distinctly the same, and it didn’t feel like that yesterday.” 

A flicker of surprise crossed Malitas’s face. 

“Hmm, if it wasn’t that, then… I don’t know. But… I do know that trauma does not always follow its own rules. Regardless, please, let her know that I am sorry.” 

“Wake her up and tell her yourself,” he said, but Malitas shook his head. 

“I don’t think she wants to see me right now. Perhaps, for the moment, that is for the best.” 

He turned and took a few steps away, back to the clearing in the centre of the group. 

“I will return to my research. What will you do now that the githyanki were unsuccessful?” 

“We head to Moonrise. We are told it’s where the cultists gather.”

Malitas turned back to him in shock.

“Moonrise Towers?? You’re actually going to go to the Shadow Cursed lands??” he gasped in disbelief. Gale gave a nod. 

Malitas’s eyes widened and for a moment he looked like he might be about to fly into a rant and take back everything he’d just said about trusting Gale and call him insane for agreeing to such a plan of action. Instead he bit his tongue and took a deep breath. 

“There must surely be better options?” he asked, as calmly as he could.

“If you’ve got any suggestions, I’d love to hear them,” Gale replied. Malitas sighed and shook his head, realising they had no choice. He was quiet for a long moment as he looked at Saff.

“Protect her, Gale,” he said softly.  

“She can protect herself,” Gale replied confidently. “But I’ll be there to help her if she needs it.” 

Malitas sighed but decided that was an acceptable enough answer, then raised his hands and began to incant a spell to return home, a portal opening before him after a few moments of concentration. 

Gale knelt down and picked up the Netherese book Malitas had given him, looking at it for a moment before looking up and watching as Malitas stepped through the portal, contemplating all that had transpired between them. He still didn’t forgive him, neither did he really want to work with him on the orb or even spend any more time than he had to in the same room as him. But, he supposed, at least they weren’t enemies.

With a bright shimmer the portal disappeared, and as it did, the others began to wake. 

Gale moved next to Saff as she stirred and helped her sit up. “Are you alright?” he asked softly. 

“Mmm… yeah…” she murmured, rubbing her eyes as she looked round at the rest of the group as they slowly sat up around her. “What happened? Where’s Malitas??” 

“I think,” Gale started as he glanced towards the spot where Malitas had been stood before stepping through the portal, “we have come to an agreement.” 

---

Spots of sunlight danced across the room as the suncatchers gently tinkled in the breeze from the window. The first flowers of spring were starting to blossom on the plants that lined the shelves, filling the air with their aroma. 

She smiled. This was the only place she ever felt at peace. She so rarely got to come in here, and while she was devastated by what had happened to Saff, it did allow her time to enjoy sitting in Saff’s annex after watering the plants. 

She glanced down at the reports on the desk next to her. She’d finally finished reading through them, and even though they didn’t describe Gale in a particularly flattering light, none of them described him as anything close to evil or dangerous. Just a bit full of himself… which is something she didn’t think Malitas could criticise anyone for. Plus, if Saff was falling for him, she didn’t think he could possibly be as insufferable as some of these reports were making out.

There was the distant sound of magic. She sighed sadly, then closed her eyes to enjoy the quiet serenity of her refuge for just a moment more, before picking up the papers and heading back through to the main tower. 

She found Malitas in his study, staring out the window once more. He always did that when he was deep in thought. She walked in quietly, knowing his lack of a dismissive wave was unspoken permission to enter. 

“How’d it go?” she asked nervously. She knew a lot was riding on this. 

“Not as smooth as I’d hoped, but successful, I suppose,” he muttered, then looked over at her. “Have you finished reading them yet?” he asked, nodding to the reports in her arms. “Yes. I don’t think he sounds as bad as you say… a bit arrogant, sure, but not dangerous.” 

“Nothing in those papers gave you serious cause for concern, then?” 

She shook her head. He hummed in thought as he looked back out the window.  

“Well, we’ll soon find out if my concerns are justified. He claims to be in love with her… I’m sure the two of them will be together soon, if they aren’t already.”

“In love with her…?” she whispered, unable to stop the smile that came to her lips and the warmth that came to her heart. Though her smile faded to a look of nervousness as the thought came to her of how suspiciously accepting Malitas was being of this. 

“So… you’re really gonna let this happen?” she asked. He glanced over at her with a slight smirk. 

“You think I shouldn’t?” 

“You know that’s not what I’m saying.”

He chuckled and turned to the window again. 

“Yes, I’m going to let it happen. I don’t see that I have much choice at this point, if I continue to argue I will lose Saffron. I would rather be there for her when he shows his true colours. I believe he will not hurt her in the short term at least, so I am content to leave her with him for now. As for the future… well, we shall see.”

[atlasbeanswrites]

Chapter 1

Alien encounter

We sat in the lobby of the interspecies communications office, waiting to be assigned to the Crew and ship we would be part of. Synth and I had taken the only two chairs in the small room while Ash sat by my feet, fiddling with the wiring on his translator watch. These watches were mandatory for us to be able to communicate not only with each other in our native languages but also to understand the yautja of our future crew.

Yautja spoke a language based mainly on clicks and rumbling sounds in their chests. While humans could learn to understand the language, they would never be able to speak it because they could not produce the right sounds. A small spark lit up from the old watch, causing Tracker to jump back, smacking his arm lightly.

"Dude!" Acting as if he had been burned by the tiny spark tracker rubbed his hand.

"THERE!!!! GOT IT!!!" Ash exclaimed loudly in German but through my translator, it came through as perfect English if not a bit synthetic sounding.

Synth nudged me gesturing for me to look down at the "all about Yautja" pamphlet She had been reading.

"it says that the women are the more dominant in their species and are like way more intimidating"

"Have you ever seen one?" I asked

"Not in person but I have seen a ton of pictures of them" Synth was playing with Tracker's hair when we saw a man in a military standard-issue uniform and a man in the typical researcher get up walk through the door and into the small room.

"Group..." There is a pause as the researcher looks down at his digital clipboard "6 you will be meeting your new crewmates in a matter of moments but I am here to set some rules and give some advice before you board the... " looking down at his clipboard again. " The Angler. "

We got to our feet waiting for the man to continue talking. There was a buzz of excitement between us. I rocked back and forth on my heels tucking my hands into my pockets.

"The Rules... As you know this is a diplomatic mission so there is a way you must conduct yourself. Because if you insult someone of importance you could cause all-out war and we can't afford that happening got it!!!"

there was a long pause as the military man scowled at us only getting a few quiet and confused "Got it." in return.

"three main rules.

1.If you are ever around a yautja pup DO NOT touch it or threaten it of even talk about threatening it!! They are extremely protective of them and will kill you on the spot if they even suspect you have a thought like that about their children."

"wild you even need to say that as a rule. Thats fucked up" I whisper to Ash earning a Nod in agreeance.

"2. There will be a room on the ship called a trophy room. DO NOT go into it! That is where they keep the skulls and bones of the beasts they have killed and it is extremely important to them.

3. DO NOT challenge a Yautja to a fight! Even if you are not a Quote 'Honorable kill' They will still KILL YOU!!! you will not win this fight."

We all stand there in silence as he finishes before the military man checks his watch

"Best not to keep them waiting... Let's Go!" he says in a harsh tone. Starting to lead us out of this small waiting room into the large ship hanger. As we approached a round ship with a large light hanging from the top front, you could tell where the ship got its name.

"The Angler:"

Getting closer we could see 3 large Yautja standing outside of the ship battle-ready. Some had their arms crossed others stood with one hand on their weapons and the largest of the group stood in the middle glaring down at us as we approached. He was clearly the captain. OUR new captain. They all looked to be male by their builds and the stories I had heard about the females made these guys look like any other soldier. We all stood there a moment taking each other in.

My eyes were locked on our new captain he was definitely the most colorful of the group. while all of them had skin that was soft browns and yellows but his was a striking green color. With yellow spots and stripes all over the skin, I could see. He spoke in a loud rumbling voice of clicks and chittering. Which was instantaneously translated to us.

"This is MY ship and MY crew. I am your Captain as of right now and you will follow my orders. Understood?" it wasn't even a question. it was a firm statement that we were going to understand one way or another. We bristled a bit at this statement all remembering our last boss.

"can't be worse than Jimmy... so why no" Tracker shrugged followed by a few laughs from myself and Ash.

"True," we said following the yautja who hadn't even addressed us or introduced themselves on the ship.

This will be fun!

authors note:

thanks for reading I hope you enjoyed this first Chapter I will hopefully upload more soon. And apologies in advance if it has any grammar or spelling mistakes. No betas we die like men!!!!

-Love Atlas <3

More Chapters are found here...

[evidence-of-the-unknown]

[ID: An illustration of a conspiracy theorist's cork board, with three articles pinned up and connected with red string. Notes attached to the articles read, "recent local events" "Won't take my calls- bought out" and "Never trust a lab coat!" end ID] Full transcripts are available under the read more.

We've made it to our first intermission! Special thanks to my dad, a former journalist, for writing the newspaper articles for me. I gave him a basic outline and he did incredible work.

[Article 1 Transcript: Portland radio jock to call Meteor Flats Home Radio personality will be taking your calls on local station KWTF-AM Cecily Palmer Meteor Flats Gazette (Jan. 6, 2019) Big-city radio jock Barney Hopkins will be bringing his unique brand of news, commentary, and community reporting to Meteor Flats with the premiere of his call-in show, Voices on the Air, on our local public radio station, KWTF-AM. “I want to bring my brand of storytelling to a whole new group of people,” Hopkins said. “Kicking around the Pacific Northwest for a few years I’ve seen a lot of stuff — and I mean a lot — and one thing I’ve learned is that every little town has a big story to tell. And it’s usually a pretty weird one.” Meteor Flats’ airwaves are about to get more than a little weirder, if you judge by Hopkins record in famously weird Portland, OR. While a student at Portland State University he reportedly devoted a week-long series on campus radio to investigating claims of a Sasquatch living in the nearby Forest Park. Sources say he was kicked off the student radio station after a late-night interview that he claimed was conducted with a “moth-man,” although no tapes of the alleged incident exist and students who supposedly heard it said it consisted only of Hopkins asking questions interspersed with a “freaky buzzing sound, man.” “You’d have to be blind to think we’re alone on this big, strange, spinning ball of mud,” Hopkins told this reporter. “I’ve been calculating the vectors and time-tables, and I’m telling you — Meteor Flats is special, and I’m here to give a voice to the side of this community that the suit-and-tie types don’t want you to hear from!” Sources at Meteor Falls Community College & Technical School say Hopkins has been in contact with “certain fringe individuals” in the departments of Conceptual Physics and Speculative Biology, but Dean Alister Frumke has refused to comment on any association with the controversial Hopkins. Voices on the Air premieres at 9:30 p.m. on January 12 on KWTF, 999.9 AM. End transcript.]

[Article 2 transcript: Government project expected to draw traffic to the area, but critics are concerned Hiram McDougal Meteor Flats Gazette (April. 12, 2016) A new government project 15 miles outside our neighboring community of Carrion, NM, promises to bring jobs and business to our quiet corner of the state, but some area residents are worried about the secretive facility. Details are scarce, but the facility will reportedly be known as the Carrion National Lab for Unquantizable Physics Research. Signs visible Tuesday at the construction site credited the Grimke- Yao-Kandinsky Foundation as the funding entity, but the signs had been replaced by Wednesday with generic signage proclaiming “Good Things Coming, Just You Wait!” with a mascot character of a happy dancing atom. Some residents have expressed concern that the exact nature of the research to be conducted ta the facility is unknown. The college was unable to shine any light on the subject. “We have no official connection to the project,” proclaimed Meteor Flats Community College Dean Alister Frumke, “and nothing more to add at this time.” However, sources on the faculty reported that several members of the Department of Conceptual Physics had recently been granted multi-year sabbaticals, and the college itself had apparently obtained additional funding from unknown sources. Local contractors have confirmed that they have been hired to build a new covered parking and faculty pool facility for the school administration. Nonetheless, local business leaders were optimistic about the impacts of the new project. “It’s about time we got our own Area 51,” said Madge Plover, owner of the All Right All Night Diner on the south edge of town. “Get some tourists in here looking for flying whatnots. And all those research guys — researchers — whatever, they’ve got to go some place for a good meal — Lord knows Carrion isn’t exactly burstin’ with five-star eateries.” “I reckon I’ll offer them up a dis- count,” she added. “Ten percent off to anyone in a lab coat!” Access to the site has been limited by a new fence installed sometime between midnight Thursday and dawn Friday of last week. End transcript.]

[Article 3 transcript: Carrion residents claim lights, missing animals linked meteor flats experts skeptical about claims of “mystery lights” Hiram McDougal Editor, Meteor Flats Gazette Scientific authorities at Meteor Flats Community College and the prestigious yet mysterious Carrion National Laboratories are skeptical about claims of “mystery lights” and other phenomena in the skies over the tiny neighboring community of Carrion, NM. “I think if anything was going on in our airspace, we would have noticed,” said Dr. Helena Von Weber, formerly of the Meteor Flats college and currently listed as “director of unspecified research” at Carrion National Labs. Carrion residents have pestered sheriff’s deputies with reports of clusters of lights “flying in formation” over the small desert town for the past several weeks. Adding to the confusion, local rancher Daphne Frick has blamed the loss of a prize mare on the unknown aerial lights. “There was a light out back, bright as day, then it just shut off, like a door slamming shut, and the next morning she was just gone,” Frick said. She described the light as “cold and white, like a magnesium flare, but also kind of warm and purple, you know?” Area veterinarian Dr. Dani Ortega said no “unknown aerial phenomena” are needed to explain the disappearance. “Coyotes are a lot more likely than UFOs,” she said. “Dang things are clever. Hungry too.” “It’s just coyotes,” she repeated, convincingly. — Nov. 17, 2022 Unverified photo of “lights” submitted by a Carrion resident. End transcript.]

[sophieinwonderland]

On Why I Identify as a Tulpa

This is a question that's come up a lot in the past, and so I thought it would be helpful to just have a single post I could link to whenever it comes up in the future.

Personal Experiences

Let's start here. I found the tulpa community when I was confused and didn't know what I was. The tulpa community were the first to tell me that I was real, and make me feel valid as a person. They helped introduce me to new skills and allowed me room to grow and learn about myself.

There was no hostility. No fakeclaiming. I was welcomed with open arms. I am eternally grateful to the tulpa community for giving the the room to grow.

A Vast Wealth of Resources

In the years since its creation, the tulpamancy community has amassed one of the largest reservoirs of knowledge of plural skills in existence, with over a hundred guides on how to create headmates, how to reinforce them, how to create and immerse yourselves in the inner world, how to impose, to switch, to partial possess.

There is no other plural community with this level of resources for endogenic systems. And one big reason for this is how they approach plurality...

Plurality as a skill and science...

Much of the endogenic community revolves around unquestioning acceptance. Every system is different. We don't need to know why. Just accept people as they are.

Spiritual systems especially don't try to explain their experiences because the experiences to them are something unexplainable.

The DID and OSDD community have their own resources, but those are generally focused on recovering from dissociative symptoms and working together better. Which is a great for them.

But the tulpamancy community is the only one that really approaches plurality as a skill to develop and train. We're the mad scientists. We're the ones who are pushing our understanding of the psychology of plurality forward by teaching practices that can induce hallucinations and dissociative experiences, and recording those experiences so others can learn from them.

I think tulpamancy is more than just making tulpas. It's a specific mindset associated with the tulpa community which isn't as present in other spaces.

Active research into endogenic plurality is focused on tulpamancy

This includes the upcoming FMRI study, which will be the first to ever to be conducted on any endogenic systems. It's important to support this research however we can, for all endogenic systems. And for me, that means identifying as a tulpa and helping others to take up the practice who are interested.

The origin of the appropriation claims are bad faith

The system who popularized this was an anti-endo. They say they're Buddhist, but they're not a Tibetan Buddhist, which is where the practice originated.

You won't find any Tibetan Buddhists outside of anti-endo and syscourse circles who are upset over the term. Certainly, no actual spiritual leaders have ever taken issue with it.

The Dalai Lama himself has said that other cultures can use Tibetan Buddhist meditations.

“Many Christians tell me they believe in Buddhist meditation, which can be learned by Christians. We teach right attitude. We teach meditation, which can be quite deep. These would be things that the West can take, and I think it is clear that Buddhists should practice certain Western methods, too.”

Here's an AMA with a Tibetan Buddhist practitioner who created an emanation.

And this paper details how the Western tulpa was created as a cultural exchange with the aid of Lama Kazi Dawa Samdup

Anti-Endos will attack any terms we use

The above anti-endo that pushed the claims about tulpamancy being appropriative also claimed the same about alternatives like "thoughtform."

»» CAN I USE “THOUGHTFORM”? «« If you’re using it seriously, I would prefer you didn’t. “Thoughtform”, as it is understood by westerners, originated from a misinterpretation of the term sprulpa.

Prominent anti-endos even started spreading the rumor that the term "endogenic," in relation to systems was first used by Freud dismiss DID as fake. (Endogenic itself was a response in opposition to older terms like "natural multiplicity" which medicalists claimed implied multiplicity caused by environmental factors was "unnatural.")

These claims were nonsense and meant to smear the endogenic community. Freud never said the word "endogenic," and "endogenic" and "endogenous" are common words in academic papers used in a variety of contexts to refer to things with internal origins.

Still, when a poll was made asking people's opinions on the term "endogenic," and that poll was circulated by anti-endos (including the ones who started the rumor in the first place,) more than 60% said that the current use of the term endogenic was harmful.

So in the end, it doesn't matter if you call yourself endogenic, a tulpa, thoughtforms or anything else. The people who want to hurt us will find an excuse to attack us and the language we use to define ourselves.

And this is why we cannot give ground on our terms. Why we cannot change ourselves, hoping for their acceptance. Because we will not be accepted as long as we exist in public, and this debate has never really been about the words we call ourselves but about our very existence.

If we call ourselves thoughtforms, then thoughtforms will become contentious, just as anti-endos have twisted "endogenic" into something contentious.

I believe that we have a duty to take a stand against those seeking to hurt us and our community.

[willing-but-not-able]

Some of Barbatos' lines are my hot cheesy bread and butter. This is the result of that. I also logged in today, saw it was his birthday then immedetly forgot it was, so I guess this can double as a birthday gift for Barbs 💞

A Royal Sacrifice

Wc: 1.7k

Warning: somehow this turned a bit angsty. Not a lot, but just a little bit of saddness.

...

As the door to the Demon Lord’s Castle opened up, Barbatos was greeted by a face that he knew was coming, but he still found himself in slight shock at your appearance. Not because he wasn’t expecting you, but because he was.

Your face had a sweet smile, underlying something else he dared not to think about.

“Am I early? You looked shocked?”

He cleared his throat. “No, of course I knew you were going to be here.” He moved out of the way and gestured for you to enter.

“That power of yours is handy.” You walked in, but not very far. Watching him close the door Barbatos looked back at her once it was shut and they were alone in the large entrance.

“The Young Master is eagerly awaiting your appearance. No need to wait on me.”

His words felt a bit cold, you couldn’t help but think Barbatos was rushing you. Before you could think to ask him that, Diavolo’s voice stole your attention.

“(Y/n)! I’m so glad you made it here safely.” He started down the stairs and made his way over you two.

As much as you knew your visit was for Diavolo, you couldn’t help the weighing feeling you got from not being able to talk to Barbatos about his behavior. Of course he wasn’t acting inappropriately or treating you with disrespect; but it felt… odd how he was acting.

Barbatos left you and Diavolo to speak. So you focused on Diavolo as you walked together.

“It hasn’t been that long since I was last here. It almost feels like I live here at this point.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to it. This castle gets very lonely after a while and having someone else around makes it lively.”

You giggled. “Though I don’t suppose this time is for leisure?”

“No, unfortunately. I wanted to meet with you to discuss an issue that’s been occurring. Lately, some denizens have wanted to move to your region.”

“Really? I guess that explains the influx of Devildom residents coming by. I thought it was simply just a random event going on. Perhaps Leviathan summoned Lotan in the town square or Beelzebub ate through everything.”

Diavolo laughed. “No, if it was that I would have told you. No, I’ve conducted some research and found they simply want to live there. Some want a change of pace, others are just getting started and feel your land is perfect for someone just starting out.”

“I can see how they would feel that way. Though I hope they don’t assume I’m going to prioritize them over my naive borns.”

“That’s why I wanted to talk with you. I wanted to have a proper system in place for anyone who wants to leave here and go there.”

“Now I can see why you wanted me to stay a while.” You held your tongue as your thoughts started to wander.

All of a sudden that cold feeling Barbatos seemed to give you washed over you again. Though he wasn’t anywhere around you, perhaps this is what the feeling was attached to. You shook it off, and continued speaking with Diavolo.

As time went on, you and Diavolo spent extensive hours discussing something that you both could agree on. In the end, the day was met with only one thing you both agreed on. With more headache than you two could handle, Diavolo called your meeting to an end and you shared a more relaxed dinner together.

Of course during this Barbatos refused to remain in the area. He simply brought dinner, refilled glasses and explained he had other matters to attend to. This wasn’t the best feeling ever, but being a ruler of an entire region made hiding your feelings all the easier. Not that it didn’t hurt. You still had feelings after all, and those feelings ended you up here—outside Barbatos’ room. You wanted desperately to knock on the door, but something made you stop. As you stood there you wondered about how all this came to be.

Weeks before this stay, you were invited to a ball Diavolo was hosting for a new Human resident. You enjoyed your time, but found yourself suffering at the forced social interactions. You managed to escape, but not without Barbatos noticing. Worried, he asked if you were okay and his words eased you. He had a way of speaking to you that you came to enjoy and after that short meeting, you were desperate to spend more time with him.

Being some of the few who were staying at the castle after the ball, you found every way to run into Barbatos and it seemed he enjoyed your presence as well. In fact, you knew he did after he spent the night in your guest bedroom.

Things seemed almost magical after that. It almost made you want to marry in fact, but that brought you back to reality.

This was why Barbatos was avoiding you. No matter how much he may have cherished you, he can’t leave the side of the Demon Lord. That thought made a tear fall from your eye and you let out the breath you were unconsciously holding. As you tried to muffle your cries, the door opened and Barbatos was there in front of you. Neither of you said anything, but you quickly composed yourself and tried to brush things off.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s late, I shouldn’t be here.”

“(Y/n)?”

“Yes?”

He said nothing for a long time. You could almost feel your tears welling again, but somehow you were able to keep them at bay while he stood in front of you.

Barbatos let out a sigh. “I’m sorry that you have to suffer like this.”

“Barbatos, please, I’m not suffering.”

“You know very well that’s a lie. I don’t even need my ability to know that much.” He stepped forward and cupped your face.

With his gloves off you instantly felt goosebumps at his warm skin on yours. Your hand came up as well and tried to pull his away. Your resistance was weak and soon your eyes closed, stepping forward you felt Barbatos arms around your shoulders. You shook against him and soon your words came out.

“I don’t know what’s worse. The fact that I’m putting you in this position or the fact that I’ll never be able to have you.”

Barbatos said nothing, but he started to pull you into his room. While you weren’t very familiar with it, it felt horrible that this was the first time you’re seeing it. All your excitement to learn more about Barbatos was carried away by the sorrow you felt in this moment. Barbatos guided you over to a bed and you two sat together, still holding on tightly to one another.

“I knew you’d come to the same realization I did, but I had to be sure.” You looked up barely able to hold back your tears anymore. “I looked ahead and saw what I needed to.”

“Our future isn’t one you can see… because it may never happen.” He remained quiet, but in your state, you spoke again. “What if I relinquish my role? That way I can just live here with you.”

His head shook. “Even though I knew you would say something like that, it still surprises me how willing you are. For me, you’d lose everything you built, everything you own.”

“Because while I do care about that, I can’t sustain things on my own forever. Your love for me is something I’ll never get with anyone else.”

“You will, (Y/n).”

Your eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about? I don’t care what you saw, do you really believe I could love anyone else but you?”

“I’m not saying that because I saw anything, I’m saying that because of how wonderful you are. I know someone will eventually fall for you the exact same way I did.”

“So I’m supposed to move on because I’m charismatic? I refuse to believe my life ends up with someone else.” You managed to break from his grasp and rubbed your tears away. “There has to be something where I can prove that no matter the situation we found ourselves in, we… might have a chance where everything works out.”

Facing him, you saw the look in his eyes. Barbatos’ usual composed appearance almost seemed broken here.

You took his hand in yours. “You know as well as I do that I oppose the future expected of me. First of my reign to never marry and you think I would change that just so we don’t end up together?”

He squeezed your hand and let out a sigh as his head dropped to rest on your shoulder. “I never expected to meet someone like you. Even when we first met, I didn’t think anything could come of it, but now I can’t see a world without you.”

“And if we share that sentiment, then we’ll find a way.”

His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you back against him. “With your will, I don’t doubt you would find a way. It’s just, I saw you still as the ruler of your region. The only conclusion I could come to was… you moving on.”

“I don’t know what will happen, but I know one thing and that’s the fact that you would be the only person I want to marry. Otherwise, after my reign is over, my role will be taken by someone else unrelated to me.”

He looked up at you. “You shouldn’t want just anyone to take your role.”

“I know, but if that’s what it takes to be with you then so be it.”

For the first time since you saw him, a smile grew on his face. This lifted your own spirits and you smiled as well.

“Then, we’ll experience this future together. You and all your puzzling decisions.” Barbatos once more held your face in his. “May I indulge myself and have you tonight?”

Your eyes started to close. “Yes, do whatever it is you want with me. At least we’re sure about this.”

🍊 Soooooo, I was gonna have a smut attached to this, but this ending was too good for that. I did write a smut tho, which you can check out here (be careful minors).

It just didn't seem right adding to this part.

Thanks for reading~ <3 🍊

[odusseus-xvi]

Hello!

I saw you trying to defend aypierre in a few comments, especially regarding his antisemitic behaviour in the election.

Although I don't think it properly counts as antisemitism, he still compared someone to h**ler, which is absolutely disgusting and in no way a "coping joke" or smiliar.

Furthermore I would like to mention that he's been purely racist, hate raiding a poc streamer, who was also a minor at the time

[ https://twitter.com/bowtietwt/status/1681420670419312640?t=Qe7fE2_H00SRbiB5ADJuWA&s=19 tweet with evidence ].

Other than that, he has not been properly dealing with being called out [NOT cancelled, no one is trying to cancel him), blocking people and even saying that the apologies are not worth dwelling on.

This behaviour cannot be excused and writing it off as just french humour" or anything similar is vile.

I'm not defending him really, am mostly confused, for the H*tler thing, this really doesn't explain to me in what way this is disgusting, like yes the dictator is a monster, but he did not compare SOMEONE to him, but a black and white mc skin photo. I genuinely don't understand why is that so bad, I understand that mentionning the guy on stream may a bit insensitive, but like, the name isn't a slur as far as I know. It's not that I don't want to admit, more that I genuinely don't understand...

As for the other thing It's absolutely horrible if it happened yes but the tweet you gave me is not evidence, that's just a random person on twitter saying he did that. That tweet just confuses me (just realised it's a year old... Do we have any other proof or is it just that ? Because it's really weird and random.) I'm not saying this is not true, just that I need more info. Do we actually know if Aypierre's the one sending them ? (what the fuck is that ? when was that ?)

Also for the H*tler thing, I never said that when we made jokes about it in France that it was "coping joke", I said that it's not a taboo thing for a lot of people BECAUSE in the past it was used as that.

Again I wanted to say I'm not defending him, I know he had been weird in the past, and I don't even follow him that much, I was just weirded out by the H*tler comment because it just seemed strange to me to be revolted by it. As for the other stuff it is grave, though I have nothing to work with outside of one old tweet.

Edit : I don't know if you'll see that, but thank you nonetheless for the second thing, I don't know if that's how it happened but it's still good to know, and I'll maybe conduct my own research... ? I don't know, I'm not interested in calling out anyone, but I'll not defend him either.

EDIT 2 : Did my research : Hope you see this

Also, I don' need an answer, I'm not interested in continuing talking about the discourse, ultimately I realised it doesn't concern me, and talking more about it would feel like overstepping bounds on both sides of the argument, and I don't want to hurt anyone.

[maybeanartist02]

sacrarium pario modern au // trivia night

summary: Violo and Vivere join their friends at a local bar's trivia night. There, they cross paths with the charismatic performer Anne.

2.7 k words, violo has a cochlear implant, vivere is chronically ill, heimos is a little bitchy

"This body was submitted by this man's daughter," the research manager explained. Violo stood in the lab of Pario Research Facility where he worked, speaking to two fellow researchers who were there to discuss a new body Violo was assigned to examine. The manager was a tall and callous woman who Violo struggled to tolerate outside of work. She, along with the other Doctor, was there to speak to him about the newly donated body.

"Their name is Ayad Amsel-Faris. They passed away four months ago, but the daughter only recently was able to process the paperwork for handing them off to us," the shorter doctor explained. "I am unsure how that happened, but regardless… we have the body now, and should be able to conduct our research on it. According to the daughter's account, Ayad had many allergies, skin conditions and were frequently misdiagnosed. Their death was written off as a natural cause, but the daughter believes they were ill."

Violo lifted the sheet laying over the body, and peered under it. Like all corpses, the person's expression was a bit disturbing to most—but Violo couldn't see, so it wasn't problematic at all.

Ayad was a brown-skinned person with a square jaw that was almost entirely covered in vitiligo and psoriasis. Their hair was also white, and seeing the state of them, Violo wondered how no one else suspected something to be wrong. Violo had to feel his way over the body to determine the psoriasis, and Eva told him about the rest.

The body reminded him of Vivere—uncomfortably so. It made him uneasy, but also gave him some hope; if Violo could find Ayad's cause of death… there was a chance it was related to the disease he was researching. This body… could be the key to all his woes, and all his fears regarding Vivere.

Swallowing the apprehension in his throat, Violo spoke eagerly:

"When do I begin?"

—

"A trivia night?"

Violo's voice curved up with the questioning echo of Necare's words. Necare nodded, a smile on her lips. The group of neighbors who lived on Warden Street 35 were gathered at Amare's place, for one of their usual monthly game nights. The five inhabitants of the apartment complex had gotten close after meeting at a renfaire a few years back and discovering they were neighbors. The friendship had been set in stone since then.

"It's a pretty new thing, meant to generate more traffic for the bar. We been kinda plateauing, so she's experimenting with new events to draw in customers."

"Will his hearing aid even be able to register the person hosting it?" Vivere asked, frowning. Despite Violo's frequent reminders that he could handle himself, Viv had a habit towards overbearingness. Violo rolled his eyes.

"Most people don't speak in a way easy for my implants to interpret easily anyway. I'll manage. I'd love to come!"

Vivere pouted, "I know… but I can still worry about your comfort."

"Well, I don't think it'll be a problem, to be honest," Necare shrugged. "Anne's the one hosting, and I speak to her a ton. Her vocal range goes crazy—if we give her a heads-up, she'll make an effort, but if we don't, she'll still enunciate well." Necare grins, "She claims to be a lyricist, but I've heard her vocals—she's a vocal acrobat, I guarantee. Low or high, she'll hit any note you give."

"Mm," Amare hummed, taking a sip of their tea. "Interesting. She performs at the bar?"

"Yeah," Necare nodded, "writes her own songs, but sings a bunch of covers too. Got a few rumors floating around, but she's always been upfront with me."

"Rumors?" Amare questioned. For the first time in what felt like ages, Heimos spoke up.

"Is this Anne Amsel-Faris?" he asked. Necare nodded, and he scoffed, "In that case… I've heard a few. Word on the streets is she's a volatile little shit."

"Volatile?" Viv asked with a frown. Violo was hung up on the surname—had he heard that name somewhere before? Necare waved a hand.

"Lotsa people got lots to say 'bout her. I hear she's busted a few kneecaps 'round town. I can't imagine her doing that unprompted, though. I'm sure the bastards deserved it."

"Who decides who deserves what fate, though?" Amare said gently. "I am not questioning your judgement, Necare. Merely the notion of personal justice."

"I hear she's got a few slighted lovers," Heimos added.

"Oh come on," Vivere laughed, "like that's a crime."

"It's possible she alone's gotten around more than you two combined," Necare joked, gesturing at Violo and Vivere. The lovers smirked, leaning into each other in such synchronization it almost looked planned.

"That's not that impressive," Violo said. "We're particular people!"

Violo and Vivere's relationship had a set of rules to follow. As far as sexual relationships went… they weren't limited to each other exclusively. Romantically, though… they weren't against the idea of partners outside each other, but the caveat was that they both had to like the person. If Viv disliked a man Vio wanted to date, Vio would drop the poor guy, no questions asked, and vice versa. The two didn't mind triads, and often shared interest in people and things, but they also found they had a bit of jealousy, and a tendency to preferring each other over their third that led them to dialing back on three-ways.

In short: sex was free game, but dating required some prerequisites to be met, and some rules to be reevaluated. The two hadn't found a long-term third yet, though, and considering the two had been dating since they were 16, it didn't feel like they'd ever add a lover to their relationship.

That being said, they were prone to flights of fancy, and one-night stands. The group of friends was vaguely aware, and none of them minded—it just meant they did not really have anything against people who fucked around a lot. That courtesy seemed to extend to Anne, too.

"I wouldn't think too much on the rumors," Necare shrugged. "Lots of them aren't favorable to her, and unfair. She's a good kid—sweet and fun. Simple as that."

"Well," Amare set their teacup down, "I'd be happy to join. It sounds like a fun night."

"I'm definitely in," Violo grinned, "can't let you have all the fun, after all."

"That just leaves Heimos," Vivere said, nodding towards him, an arm around Violo. Heimos rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. I don't care. I'll come, I guess."

"Woo!" Necare cheered, "Group Excursion!"

—

The Clover Gate Karaoke & Bar was a little place in the walkable downtown area of the city, and a place that Vivere has drawn in his sketchbooks many times. It's a picturesque place, visually, but even so, he'd never been inside before tonight.

Necare is waiting by the door when they arrive, and Violo greets her with a hug she warmly returns. With Violo's hand tucked into Vivere's arm, and Necare gesturing for them to enter, the five neighbors head inside.

The inside of the bar is spacious; to the left is a rounded bar counter, with drinks stacked to the ceiling. The seating area consists of a few bar stools by the counter and countless round tables. There's a stage at the back, and a balcony over the bar and front doors. A few groups are already seated, but more steadily pour in while Necare gets them all seated.

The neighbors are chatting about things—work and creative projects and local news—when their chatter is interrupted by Necare calling out to an approaching lady.

"Anne! Hey!"

Vivere looks up to find a tall-ish woman approaching the table with a tray of drinks and a smile. The first thing Vivere notices is curly, fiery auburn hair, the color of a dying bonfire. The second, is the vitiligo spreading over her skin. The third is the tight fitting tanktop, miniskirt and delicate jewelry around her wrists, fingers, neck and dangling from her ears. Star and butterfly are the common denominator in her accessories, as far as Vivere can tell.

Fascinating.

"Evening, all!" she greets with a wink, setting the tray down on the table, "Nix here," she gestures to Necare, "put an order in for you all, so I hope she got your order right. If she didn't, well, take it up with her."

The group shares a round of chuckles. The positive feedback seems to empower her and cause her to glow from the inside out.

"We got a glass of wine, straight whiskey, beer, and tea, mead and absinthe?—" she says, pointing at each beverage, "is that all right?"

"I'm surprised tea is in there," Amare notes, "is that a special for tonight?"

Anne smiles, "It's a new permanent feature. When your options are as limited as mine, the boss takes pity," she giggles. She waves a hand, "anyway, I take it you're here to support Necare for trivia night, right?"

Necare pouts, "what do you mean, support me?"

Anne presses her lips together and shrugs coyly, "Who's to say? Maybe I meant nothing by it." She shrugs as she retrieves the tray.

"We're here to enjoy the event with her, yes," Amare confirms. Violo scoffs.

"Speak for yourself! I'm here to win."

"In that case, I'm glad we're all on the same team," Viv rolled his eyes, "you two are horrible to witness compete." He leans towards Anne, "they are far too combative to keep any competition healthy."

Anne giggles into a hand while Violo whines at his boyfriend, "Viiiiiiv! That's not true! I can very well lose sometimes."

"To him, maybe," Heimos scoffs. "Everyone else knows you suck at losing."

"Well then," Anne interrupts slyly, "let's hope you win then, huh?"

"Hey, while you're here," Necare says, "shouldn't you be setting up? Why are you running drinks?"

The shift in demeanor is not noticeable to the group, foreign to Anne's mannerisms as they are, but she deflates, ever so slightly.

"Yeah, well, Winston called out last minute. We're a bar-tender short now, and I didn't want them to stress all night." She shakes her head with a fond smile, "it's no biggie. I don't need that much for the event, and I'm sure the band can buy me a little while."

"Oh, alright then," Necare nods, then smiles. "Next time, just call me in. I can handle running drinks for a night."

Anne smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "Will do. I should get to running—enjoy the night! And good luck!"

With that, Anne was off to the bar with a wave.

"She was… lively," Heimos mutters. Amare laughs.

"She's cute!" Necare says. "Come on, Viv thinks she's cute, right?"

Vivere shrugs, "she's good at her job. I… can see why people call her flirty." He snorts, "I'm sure the winking and giggling gives many the wrong idea."

"Oof, yeah," Violo nods. "She's funny! I can see why you'd like her, Necare."

"Why d'you care so much if we agree?" Heimos asks dryly, then smirks, "you into her or something?"

"No… not like that!" Necare shakes her head. "She's just… you know. Someone I'm rooting for! With a bit more ambition… she could take the music industry by storm, I'm sure."

"But she lacks the ambititon needed?" Amare questions further. Necare shrugs.

"Pretty much. She says she's fine working here the rest of her life, but… that's a long time to be working at the same place. I feel like I'd get bored."

"You would," Vivere snorts. "Maybe she prefers the monotony. Different people have different preferences, after all."

"True!" Violo nods, "she seemed pretty happy to be hosting us. I wouldn't worry too much. You're friends—she'll probably be honest with you if you express your concern."

"She seems like the honest type," Amare nods along. "If you're worried, communicate that to her. I'm sure she'll either confide in your, or put your concerns to rest."

"True," Necare nods. "She's a real down to earth person. I can trust her judgement call I think." She clapped her hands, "Anyway! Violo, you said work's picking up steam again?"

Violo brightened. "Oh yea! We got a newly submitted body I get to use for my research. Super interesting. I'm meeting the donator on Monday to talk about lived symptoms and medical history."

"Sounds like you'll have your hands full soon," Amare says, then smirks, "should we count you out of game nights for the foreseeable future?"

"Ha!" He laughs, "you wish! I'm sure you'd like for me to sit out, with how often i beat you."

"You don't beat me that often."

"Please do not start this now," Vivere groans.

—

Anne hastily hooks up the laptop to the stage screens. The band is buying her some time with a musical intermission, but it's a closer call than she'd like. She cusses out the tech in her mind, but takes care not to verbalize her irritation. She's changed out of her previous outfit already, and when the trivia page opens on the screens behind the band, and cheering erupts from the crowd, she signals to her coworker, Bailey, that everything is good to go.

Anne jogs to the stage stairs, then takes a moment to catch her breath, put on a smile, and saunter onstage.

As the spotlight illuminates her, she beams at the crowd, waving as she struts out towards the mic. She wears a pair of bedazzled jeans, patterns of vines and roses drawn out with sequins sewn into the fabric. With it, she pairs stiletto heels and a red off-shoulder top that hugs her chest just right. Her trademark star-hoop earrings are paired with a choker, rings and bracelets.

She knows she's dressed to impress. The wolf whistles from the crowd are nothing new—a part of her enjoys the positive feedback.

Anne makes a show of bowing before stepping up to the mic.

"Good evening Clover Gate community!"

She removes the mic from the stand and steps back to allow the crowd to applaud her.

"I see you're all in high spirits," she grins, "good, good! Tonight we're offering a new kind of entertainment to you lovely folks: Trivia night!" She begins to pace the stage as she speaks, the words only vaguely following a bulleted script, "Apologies for the delay, the racoons got out of the attic and stole my dress. Hence the new look," she curtsied to the laughs. "The way this will work is simple. Each table creates a team. Shout the answer the questions to win points. The winner gets a trophy of various snacks and free drinks for their next visit!"

A sea of cheers and whoops sounds out, and Anne smiles brilliantly.

"You're all eager to start, I see. Well then, without further racoon-enduced delay… let the games… begin!"

Anne made a show of clapping twice, implying that the clapping was what caused the screen to change to the first question. She gestured to the screen, theatrically, making the crowd laugh more.

"Here's an easy one to start us with: what is the universal blood donor type?"

Violo's voice rung out just barely before someone else's did, "O negative!"

"Correct!" Anne pointed, "Two points for team 15!"

That got the ball rolling pretty quickly. Anne continued to lay the charm on as she listed off the questions. She realized quite quickly that team 15 was dominating. At one point she was forced to put them in timeout just to give others the chance to answer, but she didn't silence them for long—that'd have been unfair to them, after all.

Anne had a weird skill for balancing humor and justice, for keeping the atmosphere light in a way where the brief timeout didn't ruin the table's night. She called for it lighthearted, laughingly, joking about them having Trivia Gods on their side.

Two hours later, Table 15 was given a plate full of snacks, and five coupons for free drinks on their next visit—they'd won by a closer margin than they expected to, which was thanks to Anne's interfering. The interference wasn't meant to hold them back, but instead served to give others a chance to speak. So, in that regard, it had served its purpose.

With that, Trivia Night had run its course. The neighbors of Warden Street 35 made their way home together, tipsy and a little high on adrenaline. Anne stayed late to help clean before making the longer trip home herself.

She arrived home with the sunrise, collapsing on her couch, and exhausted breath escaping her.

[sincerelyyycece]

you call it a problem; i call it a solution.

Confrontation erupts during an urgent assembly involving Sirius Black.

note: futuristic city setting (is that how you call it?), a unfamiliar creature is threatening your city, flirty sirius in the middle of a citywide emergency lol, brief mention of having a sexual relationship with sirius, some characters mentioned are either my ocs or a name i came up with last minute hehe

sincerelyyycece © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

Chaos reigns as the fabric of our world unravels, on the brink of collapse. Anxiety and fear are palpable, etched into every face I encounter. Children grapple with confusion, unable to comprehend why safety measures confine them indoors. The outside world grows increasingly perilous.

I am Y/N Y/L/N, a medical specialist affiliated with Astro Gen. My journey began upon graduating from medical school, where I distinguished myself as a top performer. Through unwavering dedication and resilience, I earned my place within this esteemed organization. Over the years, I have contributed to the development of numerous life-enhancing technologies, each one a testament to our mission to better humanity. It is this commitment that finds me at the heart of our headquarters today.

We were summoned for an urgent meeting. Upon entering the conference room, I observed a palpable sense of panic, stress, and worry among the attendees. My gaze landed on my friend, Leonetta Relleve, the CEO, who was visibly attempting to address the concerns raised. It was evident she, too, was feeling the strain. Letting out a deep sigh, I took it upon myself to address the room. By clearing my throat loudly, I quickly garnered everyone's attention.

"If I may request everyone to please compose themselves and return to their seats," I stated formally. "Rest assured, your inquiries will be addressed, but for now, let us proceed with the meeting." With that, the room settled down as individuals resumed their seats. A smile from my friend acknowledged my intervention. "Very well. As we are all aware, a video message was broadcasted citywide yesterday." Leonetta commenced her explanation as the digital screen displayed a peculiar blue-green creature with eyes as dark as voids.

Leonetta activates the video, and a chilling voice fills the room as the creature begins to speak. It accuses us of disturbing its people and taking something that rightfully belongs to them. In retaliation, it threatens to wreak havoc on our world. However, it offers a truce if we return what belongs to them. The dilemma lies in our ignorance of what exactly that item is. I've already instructed my team to conduct research and scour through files in search of clues.

"Ms. Y/L/N?" Leonetta's voice snaps me back to reality, a trance I hadn't realized I had slipped into. Sheepishly, I glance around the room, having zoned out, staring at the blank screen. "I apologize. Could you please repeat what you were saying?" With a deep breath, I refocus on the meeting. "I was asking for an update on the creature's demands." Leonetta cocks her head, and I shake mine in response.

"We're currently combing through the laboratory for any files, missions, or specimens that might be relevant to the creature's habitat, but so far, we've come up empty-handed," I explain politely. Leonetta nods in understanding. "And where is General Black?" she inquires. Almost as if summoned by Leonetta's question, General Black enters the room, slightly out of breath. "Apologies for the delay and interruption, Madam Relleve," he offers.

"Please take a seat, General." Leonetta motioned toward the chair beside her, which happened to be adjacent to mine. General Black made his way to the seat, acknowledging me with a nod and a grin. Sirius Black, our city's general, was not only one of Leonetta's closest confidantes but also a secret known only to me. In official capacities, she was referred to as General Black or General Padfoot, but in private, he prefers the name Sirius.

"I was attending to our borders," he reported to Leonetta, who responded, "Very well. Let's proceed with the meeting," prompting nods from everyone in the room.

As the meeting drew to a close, Leonetta requested that Sirius, Officer Lenaro, Lead Scientist Pendley, and myself remain. It was then that the true discussion commenced. Once the door was securely shut, Leonetta activated a button, revealing a map of our city.

"Did you really have to make such a grand entrance earlier?" I whispered to Sirius. He chuckled softly. "Thought you enjoyed a bit of drama," he retorted.

As we walked past us, Leonetta softly urged, “Could you please cease the bickering?” I acknowledged her with a nod. “As previously discussed, this situation is a high-risk emergency,” Leonetta emphasized, “where everything we've built may be at stake.”

“All personnel are currently under full lockdown,” Sirius informed us. “I've deployed all available soldiers to the borders and patrols are ongoing.”

“That's reassuring,” Leonetta remarked. Officer Lenaro raised a hand to speak, drawing our attention. “Have we devised any solutions?” he inquired. “Regrettably, no,” Leonetta sighed. “We've attempted negotiation for a peaceful resolution, but they insist on reclaiming what they believe is rightfully theirs,” Lead Scientist Pendley interjected.

“Could we consider a preemptive strike?” Lenaro proposed, causing my eyes to widen. How could he suggest such a thing when we're clearly at fault? “This might involve utilizing advanced weaponry and strategic manoeuvres,” he elaborated. Pendley and I exchanged knowing glances, both understanding the folly of such an approach. I glanced at Sirius, surprised to find him nodding in agreement.

Surely, he couldn't support such a reckless course of action. It would only lead to our downfall. “I don't believe that's wise,” Pendley interjected. All eyes turned to her, and sensing her discomfort, I stepped in to support her. “I concur,” I added, redirecting the attention to myself. “While safeguarding the city is paramount, we must also consider the potential repercussions of aggression and explore avenues for a peaceful resolution.”

Sirius cautions that adopting a 'peace and love' approach could endanger lives. I observed my brows knitting together. "It's likely to exacerbate our problems," I argued. "This isn't the right course of action," I added. Sirius, however, supports Lenaro's proposal, asserting it could resolve numerous issues. Pendley attempted to intervene, but Sirius remained resolute.

"Much is at stake here," Lenaro emphasized. I couldn't help but roll my eyes, feeling frustrated with the military duo. "Yes, a lot is at stake, but their plan is problematic," I remarked. Leonetta seemed swayed. "You call it a problem; I call it a solution," Sirius countered defiantly, earning a glare from me. Suddenly, I criticised the plan, caught up in the moment. With Sirius's pride and ego, I knew he wouldn't yield, and indeed, he matched my fervour.

Our argument escalated, with Pendley and Lenaro attempting to defuse the tension. "Both of you, enough!" Leonetta commanded, bringing our bickering to a halt as we turned our attention to her. "Your conflict isn't helping us find a solution," Leonetta remarked, her tone now gentle and diplomatic. "I suggest you both take a walk." We protested, but Leonetta's pointed gaze left us with no choice. "Separately," she clarified. I sighed and acquiesced, gathering my belongings and stepping out. Sirius followed quietly behind me.

As the door shut behind us, I caught Sirius's voice uttering, "This is your doing." I turned to him, disbelief etched on my face. "My doing?" I exclaimed incredulously. He nodded, prompting a scoff from me. "How could this possibly be my responsibility, Sirius?" His eyes widened at the use of his nickname. "Lower your voice," he cautioned. I rolled my eyes once more. "I thought you enjoyed it when I spoke up?" I countered. He chuckled, his tongue poking at the side of his cheek. "If only you had let us proceed with the plan, we wouldn't find ourselves out of the office," he lamented.

"As I've said before, no. That plan was flawed," I interjected. "Those beings serve a purpose on this planet. If we simply eradicate them, we become nothing more than a murderous species. We'll antagonize others left and right." He fell silent at my words. "Furthermore, they could offer valuable insights. Embracing their existence might lead to advancements in technology," I elaborated. He nodded slowly. "Alright," he conceded. I grinned.

"I'm going for a walk now," I declared. He gently took hold of my hand. "You'll still come to see me later?" he inquired. I smiled at him. "That depends. You've managed to piss me off," I teased. He pouted, pleading, "Please." I chuckled, lightly patting his cheek. "Of course. But first, I need to attend to some files in the lab." His face lit up. "Goodbye, General Black," I called out as I strolled away from him.

I find myself seated in my office, meticulously scanning the pages of the fourth file I've reviewed. My gaze drifts towards the growing stack of files in the corner of my desk, prompting a weary sigh. It's becoming evident that this evening will extend longer than anticipated. Regrettably, I'll need to notify Sirius of the cancellation. Stretching in my chair, I resolve to persevere. With determination, I return to the contents of the file in hand, hopeful that a solution to this tragedy will eventually reveal itself.

[possiblylisle]

On the Pond's Surface: Part Three

They wanted him to make a hole in reality.

                “Just a small one, if you can. We don’t want anything too crazy happening on the ship lest we have a repeat of what happened with your—”

                Grant glared at the researcher, and they shuffled backward in fear. His eyes had changed again and now they were unsettling to the staff. While some conducted their tests, they made him wear a sleep mask to hide his eyes. At first, they tried to get him to simply close his eyes but that had done nothing to relieve the unnerve.

                The whites of his eyes were black and speckled with little bits of the reverse’s brightness. His pupils were glowing with it too, but he felt no change. He’d only known something was wrong when the morning doctor had nearly fallen over at the sight of him.

                “Just a small hole please. I’ll refrain from offending you further,” the researcher said meekly.

                Grant grumbled and closed his eyes, trying to center himself. He didn’t know how they expected him to do what they wanted, or why they thought he could. He had a vague feeling of what to do, but that may have been the itching. The tingling of the antimatter in his body was hard to ignore, but in this moment, he needed to focus on it. Will the feeling to collect in his hand. Or that’s what he thought he was supposed to do.

                When he asked the researchers how they expected him to create a hole, they shrugged and tried to avoid giving a real answer. None of the old accounts on dreamers had ever said how they manipulated reality, only that they could.

                He pushed himself to concentrate further, blocking out anything that was not the tingle of antimatter. His breathing was steady, and he could feel the writhing beneath his skin begin to move. It slithered under his flesh, tying itself in a knot as it slipped through his arm and into the palm of his hand. Then he willed it to the surface, forcing it to leave the flesh and blossom on what it considered the wrong side of reality.

                He felt a flash of heat. That intense heat. The very same from his seconds spent in the reverse. Opening his eyes he saw it gathered like a tiny star in the palm of his hand.

                “What should I do with it?”

                The researchers were all pressed against the wall, their eyes closed or looking away from the brightness of the antimatter in his hand.

                “Use it to make a hole.”

                “No! Are you crazy?”

                “What do you think he should do then?”

                “Reabsorb it or something. It would kill us if he used it to tear open a hole to the reverse.”

                Grant tuned them out and squeezed the star in his hand. It weighed nothing. No. It was less than nothing. The true antithesis of the mass carried by regular matter. He squeezed it again and the star popped, sucking all the sound out of the room as it did.

“From what we’ve gathered, it appeared to be a bubble not to unlike the ones we use to cover ships during a skip.” The researcher was older and seemed more at ease with the situation despite the absurdity of it. Her hair was black laced with a few long strands of the silver that signified a growing age. A stainless-steel nametag was pinned to her cardigan. Doctor Aoi Wakako.

                “It didn’t look like one to me. Skip bubbles are supposed to be dark when they’re holding your ship.” Grant toyed with the antimatter flowing under his skin. Mindlessly compelling it to move and change shape.

                “That is because we saw this bubble from the outside,” she paused, squinting at him in concern. “You do know how bubbles work, right? If not, I am more than qualified to explain.”

                Grant sighed and dropped his arm, allowing the antimatter to act on its own. “I know how bubbles work. We load a skip drive with antimatter, program its output, and then when we get ready to skip across the pond, the drive surrounds us in antimatter and dips us through to the reverse.”

                It was basic knowledge. Every child born and raised on the flotilla knew the basics of skips and why it was so important that every step in the process was followed perfectly. If one tiny thing was wrong, then, well, the ship would end up like Grant’s home.

                “That is… good enough. Do you know why we must bubble ourselves?”

                “Because regular matter can’t exist in the reverse. I’m aware. You read the reports. You know that I’ve witnessed firsthand what happens when a ship has no bubble.” He sighed again, slumping back on the couch and resting his head against its stiff pillows.

                “That’s not what I meant, Grant. I mean do you understand why it must be a bubble of antimatter?” She was leaning forward then, and her eyes were widened with interest, like she was begging him to not know so she’d have an excuse to explain.

                “Doctor Wakako, I worked as one of the main technicians for my ship’s skip drive. I know how they work and why they need to work that way.”

                All spacers knew why a bubble was necessary, but not all of them knew why it worked or how important it truly was in the grand scheme of the universe’s workings. He knew. Of course he knew. Skip drives and FTL felt like the only things he’d ever cared about in school and that had bled into his adult life.

University taught him what he wanted to know, but it never felt like it did when he first learned of it as a child. Now it all made too much logical sense. The wonder was gone. He didn’t excitedly stay up at night, talking to Kimi about all his different theories. He just knew. The bubbles were antimatter that clung to a ship, letting its regular matter exist in the reverse to exploit the fact that the speed of light was the minimum for movement in the reverse. But it could not protect the ship alone. Regular matter coated the inner side of the bubble and the two, probably, touched at some point, mixing into the real structure of the bubble. But it was the orientation of it that worked. Antimatter on the outside to protect from the reverse, regular matter on the inside to keep the outer shell from bleeding away into the reverse too quickly.

Even with all that, not all antimatter was usable in a skip drive. The antimatter used to fuel a skip drive was special, able to exist longer in the regular side without being torn apart, just like he was special; able to exist in the reverse for longer without being ripped into atoms.

“I understand it well enough, but one thing is bugging me. No one has told me why the bubble popped.”

Doctor Wakako chewed her lip, thinking. “That is not easy to answer. You are the only survivor and therefore you’re the only one who might know why it popped. The other drive technicians in your flotilla seem to think that the ship’s course wasn’t properly calculated, and the bubble disappeared before the ship could leave the reverse.”

He felt as though he should be insulted. He wasn’t the one who had run the calculations for the skip that day; it was a member of his staff. They were all capable, he knew as much because he was the ones that kept them in order. He taught them the vitals of what they needed to know. But even then, one tiny mistake was more than enough.

He sighed, moving on. “One more thing: when I was in the reverse without a bubble, I should have experienced time dilation. At least a few extra minutes should have passed on the regular side of the pond while I was in there.”

Wakako clucked her tongue and looked down at her lap. “You did experience time dilation. It’s clear no one bothered to mention it until now. Your ship was missing for an hour and a half before returning.”

Time dilation. Time travel! It didn’t feel real. He’d experienced time dilation. An hour and half of regular reality slipped by him in only a few seconds. He’d traveled forward in time; he’d done it. If Kimi were still alive, he knew she’d make some sort of joke about it, call him the world’s worst time traveler, or say that maybe he hadn’t experienced time dilation but was just daydreaming like when they were kids; living in his own bubble. A bubble of regular reality… antimatter shell, regularity lining.

“Doctor Wakako…” he trailed off, realizing that what he wanted to say would sound insane, or desperate, or both.

“Yes Grant?” Her head was slightly tilted, and her eyes were curious.

His mouth moved without noise, thoughts still collecting, fermenting into words. “Do you think it would be possible for a piece of the reverse to travel backward in time if it leaked into our side of reality without a bubble?”

“Yes? That’s kind of what we understand stable antimatter to do. It leaks into our side but starts decaying because it is moving backward in time. The most popular theory is that because antimatter only exists naturally in a part of reality that is always moving faster than light and therefore always rapidly moving forward in time, being forced to exist in a place where it cannot break the light speed barrier causes it to experience backwards time dilation.”

Grant hummed, looking down at the antimatter under his skin, compelling it to move. “Interesting. Thank you, Doctor.”

Tag List:

@capnmachete @leahnardo-da-veggie @tamiveldura @lorifragolina @liminalgoddessworld

@humbleartspawn @orion-lacroix @insecure-pilot @xenascribbles

[sharpwitfic]

Aesop Sharp x Reader (Platonic, but the boundaries are starting to blur)

Eh, game spoilers for like one quest. If you know Penny the Elf, you are all clear. Part 4/?

Stitches and Draughts was closed for the evening. It was the most unfortunate night of the month in which the resident poltergeist would be allowed his fun as part of your arrangement for buying the shop he haunted. As you gathered your things to return to the castle, you were disrupted by a knock at the door. There was no chance you would allow a client into the shop minutes before the ghost made good on his part of the arrangement.

“We’re closed. You may visit tomorrow morning. Penny will open the doors at sunrise. Do have a lovely night,” you heard the elf call to the other side of the locked door.

Professor Sharp grumbled and turned away at the elf’s dismissal. You rushed out the back door, where you conducted your research to greet him. “Please, do come in. Briefly. What brought you by?”

“Your shop light was on. I was at Pippin’s looking into a new batch of Murtlap tentacles. I wanted to ask you about your research in private. To be frank, I am not comfortable discussing the possibility of a partnership in my classroom. Surely, you understand the boundaries between mentor and student aren’t to be crossed into partnership at this time. As your days as my student will soon end, I thought it might be an appropriate time to review your work. I was quick to dismiss the suggestion in the moment, but I see your talent and would like to hear more about what you are proposing,” he offered.

Reaching into the pocket of his waistcoat, you helped yourself to a glance at his pocket watch. Within the hour, the poltergeist would wreak havoc on your shop, basement, and laboratory. It was sure to be a sight you wished to miss. “Step inside. Just for a minute. I’ll collect my research.”

Following your lead, Professor Sharp stepped in through the back of your shop. The back room was smaller than the storefront but comfortable for conducting the business as well as your research. You had used the space as you had used the room of requirement. Potions bubbled in one corner, and plants grew in another. Most embarrassingly, as you motioned to it to offer him a place to sit, the sofa was strewn with blankets - unmade and clearly slept on with increased frequency. He took the tome of your collected research from your outstretched hand and began to read through it intently. “This is a rather sound hypothesis,” was all he had to offer.

“Thank you. I’ve put nearly a year into independent study since I aced your NEWT. I believe potions to be the key to containing ancient magic outside of the goblin silver. Your confidence means a great deal to me. I’d like to offer you a cup of tea and allow you to spend as much time as you like reviewing my work. Regrettably, the shop cannot be occupied tonight,” you explained, hoping he wouldn’t ask about the reason for your sudden departure.

Stretching his legs from his seat on your unmade sofa, he closed the tome and tucked it under his arm. “Understood. I need to return to school, regardless. As do you. Until commencement next week, I believe you have a curfew. There will be no sleeping in your office for you on my watch. I’ll walk you to the floo flame.”

“I respect your respect for curfew, rules, and boundaries. I do,” you promised. “Next time you find yourself at my door after closing, there will be no curfew. As it is, I still have an hour to return to my room. I appreciate your offer to escort me to the floo, but it’s a lovely night. I’d like to walk.”

Standing, he rubbed the side of his hip and nodded. “Next time I find myself at your door after your shop closes, I will have read your research and will be prepared to discuss it fully with you. You may start my education on the matter on the walk back to the castle.”

“You don’t trust me to make it back unsupervised? Truly, if I were going to sleep here tonight, I would allow you to stay and study. You can stay as long as you like, all but one day a month. Today is that day. I will return to the castle before curfew. That is a promise,” you offered.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, he leaned closer to you and offered his arm, along with a rare smile. “It is not by doubt or duty that I wish to accompany you. Using the floo network would be best for my leg, of course, but walking with you and listening to your ideas will be good for my mind and, despite the rumors of its nonexistence, my soul. Shall we?”

[totaldramaronpawhatever]

A Writer’s Introduction

“Waking up inside McLean Academy without any idea on how I got there was weird, but I should’ve expected it. The later seasons made it clear that if you were selected for a season you would HAVE to participate until you got eliminated in-game. So, after getting up from the desk I awoke in, I looked around the school to see if any other contestants were nearby.”

“I actually found one in the hallway outside of the classroom I woke up in! She was busy writing into a journal of hers, but she quickly shut it once she noticed I was there.” 

“Oh, you’re awake.” She said, tucking her pencil back behind her ear. “Well, hello. My name’s Millie, can I ask what your name is?”

...

“Well nice to meet you Priya, and your assumption is spot on. I am an All Star, and so were the fourteen others who woke up here. You’re number sixteen so I’m guessing you’re the Lottery Winner? I’m the All Star Survey Analyst, which means that I conduct social research to recognize trends, collect feedback, and determine common denominators between any given group of people. The hardest part is getting people to actually take the Survey, but I wouldn't be an All Star if I couldn't do that. I'm actually writing a book on All Stars myself and would love it if you told me a little more about yourself later. But first, we should go to the Gym and meet up with the others." 

[driftward]

Goblet Building Permit, Ul’dah, Office of the Building Inspector Building Title: Aetheric Studies Laboratory Aurora Laboratory Permit for: Secure Class 3 Laboratory to be constructed as per regulations (see addendum) Location: Plot 52, Ward 29, Subdivision Requested by: Zoissette Vauban Co-signatories: Students of Baldesion; Gage Acquisitions; Garlond Ironworks Notes: Per revision sheets

~*~

Much like the passing of the seasons, another threat to end everything came and went, and Zoissette found herself adrift once more.

It was not that there was not plenty to occupy her. There was. Always more legal work, always another minor emergency that benefitted from her attention, always more grant requests, always more people to help, always more training to do, always more sorties to lead, always more duty to perform.

But somehow she either found or made time for herself, and there was always the question of the research she wished to perform, scratching ever urgently at the back of her mind. Research she would pursue, as to the truth of the underpinnings of this star and the realms beyond.

She had learned much, and had so much more to learn.

And so Zoissette studied. Looking carefully over her own notes taken over the many years. Early arcanistry. Lessons from Papalymo. Ancient Nymian codices and indices. What had been learned from the Crystal Tower. From the city of Mhach. What she and Y’shtola together had gleaned of anima. From adventures and explorations of the Isle of Val. From the people she labored alongside with in service to the star and to their own research. Considering the energies involved and what had been learned from the First regarding the astral and the umbral, light and dark. A shift to the modern understanding of the elemental wheel. Everything from everywhere, from Allagan ruins to entire other realms.

She would need some things, and some time, and more information, always more information, but she was certain she was on the path to solving many mysteries.

So, away from her friends, outside of her usual lab, she found a place where she could safely conduct some dangerous experiments without risk, and she set to the task of setting up a new laboratory. This one would store some dangerous artifacts, and be capable of harnessing and focusing aether and energy and more besides.

It would require time and effort, supplies, money, and new technologies. And she would need some very special permits and specific permissions.

She was working on the permit paperwork for said laboratory in her office when Klynt dropped in unannounced. This was not unusual for the Roegadyn. She was a mercurial creature, at best. Zoissette glanced up at her as she entered.

“Hello, Klynt. What do you need?”

Klynt had noticed some time ago that Zoissette asked that a lot by way of greeting, as though she was a stranger to the idea of someone wanting to stop by just to talk. Always expecting that someone would expect something of her. Klynt badly wanted to break her of the habit, but wasn’t sure how.

Stopping by for social visits just because more often would help though, she was sure.

“Nothin’. Whatchu workin’ on.”

“Paperwork I am certain you would find boring.”

Well, she was probably right, but Klynt was game to at least hear about it.

“Sure. What’s it for?”

“It is for a laboratory I am having built to further my research.”

Nope, Zoissette was wrong. This was interesting.

“What’s wrong with Gage’s workshop? I thought you loved working there.”

“I do, but I am planning to do some more dangerous work. I want it to be off site and away from other experiments and people.”

“Dangerous?”

“High energy levels, unbalanced aethers, that sort of thing.”

“Sounds neat. Whatchu gonna call it?”

Zoissette looked up at Klynt with that perplexed look she often got.

“It is just a laboratory, Klynt. It hardly needs a name. And it is meant to be flexible, so a description of its function would hardly suffice as a title.”

“You should give it a name. The Baldesion Annex has a name.”

“Yes, that is named after its founder.”

“Maybe you could name the lab after yourself, then. Vauban Laboratories!”

Zoissette’s face shifted almost immediately to her distantly polite look, and Klynt immediately realised her mistake.

“Nah, never mind, sorry, forgot for a moment that a lot of your family is kinda awful.”

“It is not that. It is just that - I am hardly a Vauban, Klynt.”

“Your city took you back.”

“I am not naming the laboratory after myself, Klynt.”

“Alright, but you should still name it. We give names to things that are important us, because we care about things with names.”

Zoissette stopped what she was doing, and seemed to be looking through the table, rather than at any of the papers on it. Klynt wondered what was going through her head this time, but it wasn’t as though she could just ask. Zoissette already had her guard up. Pushing would just wind up doing exactly that - push her away.

“Eh, just think about it,” said Klynt. “Who’s helping you build it, anyroad?”

“…by its nature, I have to contract out quite a bit of it. Gage, of course, is helping. The Scions of the Seventh Dawn are disbanded, unfortunately, but Y’shtola and Urianger have agreed to release some data I will find useful. The Ironworks, of course, can be trusted to be discreet and are the only people who can meet some of my requirements. To start, though, the Students of Baldesion are providing the bulk of the initial work and permits.”

“Huh? Why?”

Zoissette leafed through her papers, and pushed a design diagram over for Klynt to look at. “The primary assembly that will need to be built around is a gloriole containment based on what Ryss and I learned from Mhach. You recall Ozma, of course.”

“Yeah, and its bastard father in the Isle of Val. Oh, and the cute lil’ one that Ryss made.”

“Yes. The ‘cute little one’ that Ryss spearheaded making, with assistance from the Students of Baldesion. The cute little one that, as I recall, you leapt on top of and tried to ride around like a chocobo before promptly knocking yourself out when it went out through the workshop door and your head failed to do the same through the door frame.”

Klynt grinned. “Hey, it was hard to control and very zippy. Like riding a big smooth marble.”

“I do not know what you thought would happen, or where you learned enough to make that comparison.”

Klynt just shrugged, and Zoissette sighed. “Anyroad. I need their cooperation. Ryss has decided to take her research in a different direction than I intend to explore, but her, myself, and Krile have all agreed that the data is too dangerous to be released to just anyone. So, officially, the Students are actually building the initial laboratory. There are other agreements in place, clauses about who gets what in case of accident, so on, so on.”

Klynt nodded agreeably as Zoissette signed one last piece of paperwork, and began to sweep all of her work back to herself.

“And now I need to file everything and go talk to the on site engineer. Is it alright if we catch up later?”

“Oh, yeah, sure, of course,” said Klynt, giving Zoissette a jaunty two-finger salute. Zoissette began to rush out, but stopped, and smiled at Klynt.

“I do mean that. I appreciate that you stopped by. I will linkpearl you once I am done filing all this.”

“Well, you’d better now, I’ve never been stood up before, and if you’re the first to do that to me I’ll be just heartbroken”

Zoissette rolled her eyes but laughed as she left, and Klynt chuckled as she watched her go. Once she was gone, she thought to herself for a few moments. She did not know any of the Students of Baldesion directly - she and Krile just did not interact much, and G’raha always seemed to be on the bounce - but she knew a guy who knew a guy.

She activated her linkpearl. “Hey, Thancred - it’s Klynt, yeah. Listen, you have an in with the Students of Baldesion, yeah? Hey, listen. You want to do something nice for Zoissette and also be the funniest guy in Eorzea?”

~*~

Some moons later, Zoissette and the Xaela in charge of construction made their way through the laboratory. He was tall and probably handsome, she was not sure; all she knew was that he smiled too much and wore too little. But he had come highly recommended, and frankly, she was willing to ignore his eccentricities if he could deliver.

And deliver he had.

She was beyond delighted. The laboratory had been made to her exacting specification in every detail. The building was well sealed against the outside, with carefully designed emergency systems that would ensure safety in case of accident. The Ironworks had come through with some Allagan automated systems, which hummed whisper-quiet in the space. The gloriole assembly had been carefully and correctly build, and now sat in the main space, a spherical containment assembly around it. Off to one side were instruments and tools, and on the other, a place where crystal energies could be fine tuned and studied. The laboratory was flexible and capable and everything she could have wanted or imagined and more.

The Xaela grinned at her as she finished checking everything over.

“It is perfect,” she said.

“Great,” he replied. “We even managed to get that last minute change request done, too. so if you’ll just sign off, we can be on our way.”

Zoissette took the papers from him, and looked over the acceptance criteria, checking them off one by one. “Change request? I have not made one of those in sennights.”

“Yeah, it was from the Students of Baldesion. Check the revision pages. It wasn’t anything major, nothing functional, just for the cornerstone plate and your plaque out front.”

Zoissette frowned, and looked.

“Change request: building to be named Aurora Laboratories. Requested by: Krile Baldesion, Students of Baldesion. Note: You’re welcome!”

Zoissette just shook her head and closed her eyes. After a moment, though, she smiled, and laughed a little, and signed the paperwork.

[yzanjiiii]

𝗕𝗹𝗼𝗴 #𝟭 𝗜𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗩𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲𝗩𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗲

I've always been attracted by the beauty of politics in business. How people can settle and manage their financial transactions through efficient communication, proficiency, and the development of plans using scientific methods in research to patch up gaps and establish projects based on solvency. Selling your business necessitate you to be able to speak persuasively, and I admit that it was still challenging for me to gather my thoughts and be confident enough to approach people and persuade them about something, despite the fact that I am a Political Science major and thus expected to be good at public speaking. However, our interview activity gave me the opportunity to venture outside of my comfort zone. In a larger perspective, it made the realm of politics and entrepreneurship converge in a sense that I was able to practice the art of identifying grassroot problems to provide solutions for the betterment of learning and quality education, which is entirely the definition of politics, and to make it income generating, we have to devise a product or services to cater the needs of the people, which is in the business realm, and for me to be able to show my innovative skills, I have to also link the realm of entrepreneurship hence, I believe that I can pour out all the learning application of my three years residency in political science in this subject.

EXPERIENCE

The encounter itself was enjoyable. During our preparation phase, I was able to demonstrate my leadership skills by devising techniques to make our workload more efficient by assigning ourselves quotas to meet. Personally, I wanted our data to exceed 100, but owing to forthcoming requirements, we opted to limit the quota at 50-60 interviewees. I assigned the deadlines, responsibilities, and established a bureaucratic framework to guarantee that each of us fulfilled our tasks; thus, before the interview, I ensured that the Google Drive was available for the uploading of our documentation, specifically images, videos, and recordings. Google Docs is also ready for the consolidated report, which includes both the quantitative and qualitative data. To avoid delays, I have also assigned the secretary to monitor task completion.

BEFORE THE INTERVIEW/D-DAY

During the interview, it became increasingly difficult to identify students who are not shy in front of the camera and are willing to participate. Fortunately, I know a lot of people at the university, which gave me an edge in finding interviewers. An individual interview was initially conducted, but I later realized that it was time consuming and made the interviewee more shy due to the pressure and tension of becoming embarrassed, so I have to make small talk with the interviewee first to ensure that I will be able to break the ice and allow comfort to kick in. We experimented with combined interviews, team interviews, and partner interviews alongside Eloisa. As a result, we were able to troubleshoot problems during the interview by devising plans and trying out different techniques. Regardless of the outcome, I believe it gave me confidence to take risks and become resilient, both of which are essential in entrepreneurship, especially since one major challenge is dealing with people with different tastes, preferences, and attitudes.

D-DAY

INTERVIEWEES #1 and #2

Eloisa and I with our first interviewee from the program of Sociology. The problem identified was the absence of comfortable tambayan with good food.

Our second respondent is from BSED PE and the problem identified was waste problems.

INTERVIEWEES #3 and #4

The third interviewee is also from BSED PE and the problem identified was mental health issues due to the pressure being felt by students.

The fourth interviewee is from the College of Business and Management major in Finance. The problem identified was ventilation due to poor budgeting of the university.

INTERVIEWEES #5 & #6 and #8 & #9

The fifth and sixth interviewees are from the program of BS Bio. The problems identified are transportation and printing problems due to the location of printing services.

The 8th and 9th interviewees are both from the program of AB Political Science. The problem identified is waste problems.

Bonus GIF

Caught on 4K: Ma'am Butalid, the program coordinator

INTERVIEWEES #10 & #11 and #11, #12, #13, & #14

The tenth and eleventh interviewees are both from the College of Education. The problem that was identified is also the prevalent waste problem.

All four interviewees (11-14) are from the program of AB Political Science and the problems identified were insufficiency of educational tools, transportation, waste problems, and illegal business (no permit).

INTERVIEWEES #15 & #16

Our fifteenth interviewee is from the program of BS Math and the problem identified was waste problem.

The last interviewee is from BSED PE and the problem identified was waste problem.

AFTER THE INTERVIEW

Following the interview and consultation with the instructor, we were able to share our views, suggestions, and data results, so with waste management being the most pressing issue at the university based on our data gathered from the series of interview, we looked for potential products and services that would be the greatest solution. We had a lot of prospects for the proposal because I came prepared, and I had already researched sustainable products online through various platforms to make our decision process easier. Following the deliberation, it was decided to proceed with the conversion of leaves into paper, with modifications such as colour classification and scented option.

RESULTS OF THE INTERVIEW

The first pie chart shows the result of our joint interview. It has been revealed that there are 8 identified problems and the top three are the following: (1) Waste problems, (2) Transportation, and (3) Ventilation. Meanwhile, for the consolidated result, it was revealed that waste problems still hold the top issue that the CMUans are currently facing and have been posing grave concerns weighing 53.8 percent out of 55 respondents being interviewed. Therefore, we have decided to go with a visionary EcoVenture product called "EVERLEAF" which means everlasting leaf which aims to stop deforestation and degradation of the environment 🌿

REFLECTION

Through this dialogue, I have come to understand that that, despite the fact that we are in a micro level setting, the problem that we are facing in the university is ubiquitous since corporations do nothing about it because they just care about profit. Sustainable practices are difficult to implement since they may inhibit economic growth, which is something every businessman avoids. The ongoing problem of deforestation, erosion, and forest fires will exist unless we begin to develop regulations and sanction big industries. Thus, this subject is an excellent way to enter the VentureVerse because anyone may be a businessman, but not everyone can sustain their business owing to the ups and downs of business hence, it needs strong mentality.

LEARNINGS

Furthermore, this interview helped me identify my strengths, such as strategic leadership, critical thinking, resiliency to troubleshoot unforeseen problems that require immediate solutions, adaptability, time management skills, and the ability to remain rational at all times in order to manage the team. While I accept my inadequacies, such as my public speaking abilities and approaching strangers, it has provided me with opportunities to identify areas for improvement. It taught me that mistakes and failures are inevitable and necessary for learning and growth. Every master was once a beginner in their chosen industry. As a result, I feel that by constantly improving and allowing oneself to admit mistakes, I will be able to recognise threats that are critical for mitigating macro consequences on the endeavour.

To summarise everything, I am excited for the thrills of this rollercoaster journey. The uncertainty makes me rosier about the future. Risks are what keep me alive. It piques my interest in exploring new horizons. I am challenged to venture beyond of my comfort zone in order to try new things and discover more about myself.

[valkieds]

Do u have more info about your human experiment/fusion au? Im always a sucker for those 😊

It’s not super thoroughly thought out but I do!

So essentially godfather is trying to create a “god” via a weird magic/science-ish combo of fusing souls together. The intention is the eventually do it on Akehoshi papa but you gotta test it out first, y’know? So Nagisa is used as a blank slate template, gf and co. being under the impression that someone without a sense of self would merge better with more independent souls. And that’s when Ibara comes in, freshly plucked out of the military camp for his genetic closeness to “god” (godfather). The experiment is conducted but, because of Ibara’s strong individual will/very different outlook from Nagisa, the fusion isn’t completed perfectly, leaving an extra pair of eyes on the outside and their two souls very much not fused on the inside.

They remain stuck in that research facility for a while longer, Ibara being very resistant to any attempts made by the researchers to check up on how the body’s holding up. He and Nagisa take turns being “awake” and controlling the body, although sometimes they’ll both be active at once (and sleeping is just them both being mentally asleep at the same time). Ibara, in his infinite wisdom, winds up driving the body into a multiday exhaustion coma after staying awake for multiple days straight trying to prevent the body from being messed with at all. After he and Nagisa wake up, they decide to try and escape and use gf’s death as an opportunity to sneak out (during which, Ibara just tells Nagisa to rest while he handles it and that by the time they wake up they’ll be somewhere calm and free :>)

But now they’re effectively homeless. They spend a while scavenging for food and, through an incident of trying to steal from some rich person’s trash, wind up being at the Tomoe household for a while. They mostly stay in a more isolated room from the rest of the house, but Hiyori gets curious and eventually meets Nagisa. Because they’re not very sure how Hiyori would react, Ibara just has Nagisa be the one speaking while he mentally helps Nagisa figure out what to say and pretends to be asleep.

Gatekeeper comes into the picture because obviously the human experiment fusion is on the loose somewhere and was last spotted somewhere near the Tomoe estate. After some time, he gets into contact with the two of them and “adopts” them but really he just gets them a comfortable place to stay and acts as their benefactor. From there it’s a lot of getting used to a “normal” life while still also being a literal fusion of two people. … I typed out way more than I thought I would whoops. But yeah that’s the bulk of the au and I’m glad it caught your attention enough to ask about it lol. I too am a sucker for human experimentation AUs so it’s nice to see y’all are out there