#i didn't realize that's what they meant. f*ck me

[theinfinitedivides]

look at them.

[thesirencult]

Pick A Card : Soul Connection

An intuitive reading about a soul meant to find yours. In epic tales there is a literally mechanism called "recognition". The hero and his counterpart recognize eachother even after years of estrangement. Like Penelope and Odysseus. A love so deep not even multiple lifetimes can erase. A soul kindred to yours you would recognize in a sea of people.

"I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world."

disclaimer : a tarot reading should never be used in place of professional counselling. Your reading cannot offer legal, medical, business, or financial advice nor does any portion of your reading herein purport to. You should not rely on a tarot reading to make any decision that would affect your legal, financial, or medical condition. If your inquiry involves the law, finance, or medicine, then you should seek the advice of a licensed or qualified legal, financial, or medical professional. Also, tarot reading cannot replace qualified mental health care. A tarot reading can only facilitate how you cope spiritually with a given situation.

PILE 1

The soul meant to find yours is a gentle one. Themes that come up here remind me of couples like Queen Victoria and Albert. I t will be love at first sight. Whatever your genders are, the "supposed" feminine will be the dominant one.

Your person will take the backseat as you run things. You may come from a wealthier background or simply seem "high value". Lady and the trump vibes.

This person will fight for those who didn't get the same opportunities to grow. They cheer for the underdog. This person will love your firey nature and how "bossy" you are. One thing you have to be careful with in this relationship is to keep things balanced as sometimes they might feel like you do not respect them or you don't spend enough time with them.

They could be an INFJ. Sympathetic, compassionate and protective. Practical and detail oriented, this is the safe place you need to come back to after your long trips towards the stars.

PILE 2

The love of your life will be able to see you. The real you. They won't overlook the greyness in your face. "You're Losing Me" by Taylor Swift is a song that can talk about your past.

No one stopped hurting you even though they knew they wouldn't be able to bring you back. They didn't care.

This person is everything that you deserve. They will help you heal. No sad songs with this one. Your happily ever after. This person is a soldier. They would die for love.

Your people pleasing tendencies won't go unnoticed with this one. They care about YOU, not what you can do about THEM.

Give them a chance when they come around. Sweet energy. Safe. Boy-Girl-They next door energy. A sweetheart with a great smile and a kind glint in their eyes. My heart feels warm writing about them. Hallmark movies ain't got nothing on them. Their love is simple and "perfect". No questions and worries. Your safe place.

Your energy reminds me of those wedding photos you see on Instagram of couples in small American towns posing with their golden retriever and smiling at each other. Don't let your past wounds f*ck this up. Sincerely, from one people pleaser to another. If you picked this pile we would have been besties in real life. Lots of love and hugs your way.

P.S. They will always choose you. You are not the first, but the ONLY choice.

PILE 3

Your whole life you have felt alone and isolated. Like life is a party you have not been invited. I wouldn't say you are a "pick me", you are far from that. You just feel like there is no one there for you to keep your hands warm. You have always longed for someone that will look behind the mirror and realize there is someone is behind it. You struggle with finding your inner voice.

The catch here is that you have the ability to choose anyone behind the mirror. You have the ability to show who you truly are. Be wild and crazy. Unstoppable. You didn't come here to do pretty and quiet. You are here to awake others and break the glass.

The person meant for you, your other half is very different from you. They are way more hedonistic and may find solace is the material realm. They will do everything to make you feel wanted and beautiful. This person will see you for who you truly are and they won't feel intimidated. Your "black cat energy" won't drive them away. They have some skeletons in the closet themselves. Disturbing and compelling, this one would make a great "50 Shades Of Grey" type of movie. lol. They could listen a lot to the Weeknd or they used to live a very "rough" lifestyle in the past. Love at first sight. Intense. You slap them and they will kiss you. They will buffle you. "Why doe sthis mfer stick around somehow?".

In all honesty, in this lifetime, your other half will be overbearing. They won't back down until they take you down with them. Penelope Cruz and Javier Bardem come to mind in Jamon Jamon. This person may also come from money or have a lot of money and they want you to be their dark princess/prince. It will feel like taking a panther or feral cat and trying to domesticate it. Good try. You are still dangerous though, but they don't mind a few scratches.

[bartyssimp-riley-16]

Punches and donuts - Jason Todd x Wilson!reader

Bruce had hosted this year's holiday party at Wayne Manor and invited his entire extended found family, plus several members of the Justice League and their extended families in turn. Jason had been invited too. He hadn't really wanted to go, but his brothers had convinced him.

Well, it hadn't been. People had spent the night whispering about his presence. His brothers had all shot him apologetic looks. The air had grown tense. Jason had stood up mid-meal and left without a word. He'd probably made things awkward at the party, he didn't care.

"Stupid dinner. Shouldn't have gone." He wasn't surprised that the streets were nearly empty. The snow was coming down heavily now, and a fierce wind had picked up, blowing a flurry of white into his eyes. He blinked the snowflakes away and pulled his jacket tighter wrapped around him.

"F*ck me," he cursed, furious. The night kept getting worse. He didn't have a ride. Everyone was at that stupid party. He'd have to walk back.

A soft rustling behind him was the only warning he got. Jason spun around and his instincts kicked in, the adrenaline from his earlier anger propelling his fist forward. His knuckles collided with the persons face, sending his attacker staggering backward.

Wait. That wasn't an attacker. "Oh, sh*t. Uh." God, tell him he didn't just break someone's nose. "F*ck. I'm sorry."

i hiss holding my nose, "fuck, Todd!"

"Oh, sh*t. You're bleeding."

Jason's annoyance with the fact that he'd just assaulted a bystander vanished in an instant, replaced by guilt and panic. He stepped forward to get a better look at the person in the dim streetlights. His brain had registered that it was a woman. Her hood was pulled up, making it difficult to see her face.

He gently took her wrist and pulled her hand away from her face. "Lemme see."

"Jason", i hiss softly, "careful"

It took a few seconds to register that he knew that voice, but when it clicked, Jason's eyes widened in horror.

"YN? F*ck."

He'd punched her. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. It could have been worse, but it didn't change the fact that he'd hurt one of the very few friends he had.

Jason held her chin in his hands, tilting her head up to inspect the damage. "I didn't see you," he started, trying to rationalize, his eyes filled with remorse.

"yeah, figured", i chuckle

Jason let out a heavy exhale, relieved that she seemed calm and not, say, homicidal. She was making light of the situation, which probably meant she was okay, but he still felt awful all the same. "I didn't mean to, I thought you were—well, you know what I thought."

There was no point in trying to explain himself. He'd f*cked up. He just hoped he hadn't done any lasting damage and winced when he saw the blood dripping from her nose.

i smile, "its fine Todd"

"It's not fine."

If anything, her being so casual about it made him feel worse. She was being so nice, and he'd hit her. Punched her in the face. If she was anyone else, they'd probably be furious right now.

"I hurt you, Yn. I should've—I should've been more aware."

He released her chin and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Here." He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to her.

"thanks" i place the handkerchief against my nose," yah alright?" i huff softly.

He nodded, albeit reluctantly. "I'm fine. I'm worried about you more than me right now."

He watched as she pressed the handkerchief to her nose, feeling the guilt gnaw at him. He'd always had a short temper, but this incident was downright unacceptable.

"Is your nose broken?" he asked in a low voice, still watching her with a worried frown.

"nah, itll be fine, aint my first rodeo"

There was something about the casual, lighthearted way she talked about getting punched in the face that concerned him more than anything else.

"Yn," he said, his voice taking on a tone that was half-exasperated, half-serious. "This ain't funny, y'know. You just walked into a right hook. A heavy one, at that. It's probably not good that you're laughing right now."

i try holding back a smile, "aww are u concerned about me Todd?"

He rolled his eyes, his cheeks feeling a little warmer. "Don't make me regret worrying about you, Wilson," he shot back in a gruff voice, but there was no real annoyance behind the words.

"I punched you. This isn't fun and games. You—"

He stopped himself just in time before the word "deserve" spilled from his lips. He was grateful she was being so casual, but the fact remained that he'd hurt her.

""you" what?"

He froze for a moment, mentally kicking himself for letting the word almost slip out. He clenched his jaw, trying to find the right words.

"You...deserve better than this," he said finally, his voice low and quiet. "You deserve better than someone who can't tell the difference between you and a..."

An attacker. He swallowed the word down, feeling the weight of it on his tongue. He didn't want to explain why he'd been on edge, not that it would justify punching her in the face.

"can u stop? u sound like some sappy teenager, im fine, really - i am, okay?"

His shoulders slumped a bit, the tension leaving him as he realized that she wasn't going to let him beat himself up over this. He sighed, a hint of irritation in the sound. "Fine," he begrudgingly agreed. "I'll stop, but can you please stop acting like getting punched in the face is just another Tuesday?"

"-but it is, being a vigilante isnt easy, u should know"

He gave her a deadpan look. "I know that, Yn" he said with a roll of his eyes. "I'm not some newbie vigilante who hasn't taken a punch or two."

His expression softened a bit. "But just because we're used to getting hurt, that doesn't mean it's okay to brush it off when we do get hurt."

i smile," im okay, but are u? u left the dinner very...abruptly"

He averted his gaze, trying to act casual. "What's there to be okay about?" he quipped, shrugging. "Dinner was dull, the people were dull, and I had a damn headache. Had to get out of there."

"cmon, lets go be gloomy on a rooftop", i say in a mock deep voice

He couldn't help but snort at her silly imitation of his usual demeanor. "You're so damn annoying, you know that?" he said, but there was no genuine annoyance in his words.

"Alright, let's go be all brooding and edgy on a rooftop," he agreed with a light chuckle. i watch him amused.

He noticed her amused expression and shot her a reproachful look. "Stop looking at me like that," he grumbled, folding his arms over his chest. "like what?" i poke his arm

He sighed at her playful poke, resisting the urge to roll his eyes again. "Like you're enjoying this, like you find it amusing that I'm bothered,” he said. “I accidentally punch you, and you just laugh it off. Anyone else would be angry. But not you. You just find it funny."

"it is funny". His expression darkened at her nonchalant response. "Funny? It's funny that I hurt you? What's so funny about that, Yn?" he demanded, his voice rising with frustration and disbelief.

"u were so caught off guard" i chuckle softly, i nudge him playfully, "im okay"

He grumbled, letting out a long sigh. "Yeah, I was caught off guard, but that doesn't make it amusing." He looked at her, his expression still showing traces of irritation.

"I just...I don't like the fact that you're so casual about it. You didn't even get mad at me. Any other person would've been furious."

"want me to yell?" i ask jokingly

He couldn't help but roll his eyes at her offer. "No, don't be ridiculous," he retorted. "I just...I don't get why you're not angrier about this. You're just so...calm."

"if u wanna make it up to me, u can buy me donuts"

He raised an eyebrow at her request, surprise mixing with irritation. "Donuts? You want me to make it up to you by buying you donuts?" He shook his head incredulously. "Seriously, Wilson? Donuts? That's all it takes to make you not mad at me?"

"jelly filled, raspberry" He rolled his eyes, a scoff escaping his lips. "Jelly filled, raspberry, fine. Any other requests? Want me to tie a bow on the box too, while I'm at it?"

"sure", i muse

He could have strangled her with how blasé she was being, and now she had the audacity to demand a bow too. "You're insufferable, you know that?" he growled, a hint of a smirk on his face. i smile, "of course"

He shook his head, fighting back a sigh. "You're lucky you're cute," he muttered under his breath, realizing he was begrudgingly enjoying their banter. I grin at him, "think im cute?"

He tried to keep his expression neutral, but a hint of a flush crept across his cheeks. "Don't fish for compliments, Wilson," he grumbled, looking away from her gaze. "You know damn well you're cute."

i smile "damn right"

He rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress the hint of a smirk that tugged at his lips. "Arrogant, aren't you?" he retorted, but there was no genuine annoyance behind it.

"arrogant? me? yes" i joke.

"...can u buy me my donuts...tomorrow morning?"

[sleepdeprivedsimp234]

So i wrote a little fic based off of the headcanon about New York using Little Space as a coping mechanism :) Again, ty @aceontheline for the hc idea <3

==========================================

New Jersey was walking down the NE hallway and was on his way to go annoy New York like a good older brother. Once he got to the end of the hall where York's room was, he didnt even bother knocking, he just straight up kicked the door open (like an a$$hole).

"Hey Yorkie!!~" his voice rang out. He looked over to where York would usually be laying on his bed and telling him to "F*ck off", but was a lil surprised when he wasnt there. He looked around the room a little bit and noticed some curled up in the corner. He observed them a little closer and realized that it was his little brother wrapped up in one of his numerous fluffy blankets. Jersey walked over and knelt down next to York and shook his shoulder. He expected to have York swat at him like a dang cat, what he did not expect however, was a whimper and for York to flinch away and curl up even further.

"New York? Ya good, man?" Jersey asked, his big brother and Jersey-Mom instincts kicking in.

All he got was a small huff-whimper sound.

"York? It's me, New Jersey??"

Silence.

"It's me....Jersey?"

Nothing.

"Vincent?"

He noticed some of the tension in York's shoulders leak away a little bit.

"*sigh* Vinny?" Jersey said, using the nickname York gave him when they were younger as a last resort. Finally, York uncurled himself and looked at Jersey with those oh so bright honey-brown eyes that Jersey remembered from their childhood, and the Garden State noticed that there wasn't any faux-malicious intent or anger behind those eyes, but instead there was a sort of child-like glee. Ohhhh- things made a lot more sense now. And if he needed more evidence that York was little, York tackle-hugged him with a small sharp-toothed smile and said (or tried to):

"Vinny!~" in a very quiet, almost whisper-like voice and buried his face in the older's chest.

Jersey was caught off guard at first, but he eventually smiled fondly (after making sure the door was closed) and hugged him back. "Hey buddy..." He knocked off the younger's hat and ruffled his hair gently, and he had to hold back an audible coo for the sake of his reputation when York melted with a content sigh and started purring.

York unburied his face and looked at the older with a slightly playful look. He giggled and made a small waving gesture with his free hand.

"Hi silly. What do you uh- whaddya wanna do?" Jersey asked.

York sat up and reached over and grabbed a book that was about flowers and different insects. He handed it to the Garden State with wide innocent eyes.

"Ya want me to read to you?" Jersey asked with a sweet-ish tone of voice.

York shook his head no and pointed to a picture on the wall. It took the older state a minute to figure out what he meant, but eventually it clicked.

"Ya want to flip through the pages and look at the pictures?" He asked, smiling a bit when York nodded yes excitedly. "Ok, very well then." He picked up the taller but lankier state and placed him on his bed and sat next to him. Jersey watched as the younger grabbed a blanket and wrapped himself in it along with a random bunny plush that he found and rested his chin on Jersey's shoulder with a smile. Jersey chuckled and ruffled York's hair playfully.

As NJ flipped through the pages, he thought about the reason that York was like this (he didn't mind that York was in little space, but he did mind the reason behind it just a bit). And it brought him some slight sadness the more he thought about it. Granted, they were all decently young, but York was much younger. And none of them deserved the treatment they got, but for York it was a lot worse, seein as England saw him as his prized possession and would do ANYTHING to get York to be exactly how he wanted him to. He was quickly snapped out of his thoughts when he felt two gentle hands squeeze his sides. He turned to give York an amused look.

"What're ya doin' there, bud?" He asked.

York didn't respond, he just squeezed Jersey's sides again, giving a small huff of minor frustration when he got no reaction. He tried again, but the results were similar except for the small huff of amusement he got from his older brother. He slightly glared at the older, which only got a small chuckle from him.

"I'm not ticklish, bud." York seemed to find this answer unacceptable and squeezed Jersey again, this time around his ribs, and yet again getting no response.

"But y'know who is?" Jersey asked, sending a playful glare York's way, which sent the York to blush and back up slightly with a nervous smile.

"You are!!" Jersey gently shouted before tackling NY and tickling him all over his torso, the younger shrieking and giggling in response.

==========================================

Massachusetts was walking back to his room when he heard shrieking coming from NY's room (which was right next to his). So ofc, he decided to rush in there to check on his brother. When he walked in, he nearly melted at the playful sight before him.

New York was squirming around in Jersey's hold and letting out adorable shrieky giggles as Jersey wiggled his fingers all over his torso. His smile was almost as bright as the blush that spread across his face.

Mass chuckled and closed the door before walking over to his twin and little brother.

Jersey looked up at Mass and grinned at him. "Hey Masshole."

"Mahahattiehehe hehehelp!!! (Mattie help)" York laughed.

"Pfft- okay okay... Jersey give poor kid a break, man." Mass said.

"Fiiinnnnneeee...." Jersey said, letting the younger go and chuckling when he curled up next to Mass, his savior.

Mass chuckled and looked down at his little brother, and noticed the wide-eyed child-like glee in his eyes. And then he remembered that York had called him "Mattie" which was a nickname the younger had given him way back when (it was a short nickname for Mass's human name Matthew or Matt).

"He little?" He whispered to NJ as he absentmindedly ran his fingers through York's hair and gently scratched his scalp.

"Yea." He answered. "He's also pretty much asleep now."

Mass looked down at his little brother and sighed fondly. "Whelp. It's 11pm anyways, so we might as well go to sleep as well." He said before getting up and grabbing a few comforters from York's closet and making a nest out of them along with his numerous pillows and fluffy blankets.

==========================================

Connecticut was getting ready to go to bed and was walking to his younger brothers' rooms to say good night. He was a tad bit confused when he didn't find Mass and NJ in their rooms, but once he got to NY's room, he got all the answers he needed.

The three of them were all asleep in a makeshift nestnof blankets and pillows and stuffed animals. Mass was holding York close to him and Jersey held his arms around them protectively and had his face buried in the youngest's hair. Connie noticed that they had nothing covering them as they slept and closed the door and walked over to them. He grabbed a decent sized blanket and covered them with it before starting his way out.

He was stopped when he felt a small weak tug on his the leg of his pants. He looked down and saw York staring at him with sleepy pleading eyes. He smiled slightly and walked back over. He knelt down and placed a gentle brotherly kiss on York's forehead before worming his way into the cuddle pile so that Mass was on one side, Jersey was on the other, and York was wrapped around him like a koala. He smiled fondly before letting tiredness and the grounding weight and warmth of all three of his little brother's lull him to sleep....

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[acourtofthought]

Don’t feed people delusions Elain is not fit to rule any court, both of Feyre’s sisters have done absolutely nothing to deserve that title be real 😂 she can be a lady beside someone who is ruler though!

Hello! I'm a little torn with the way I want to respond to this anon but I'm going to stick with facts rather than giving in to the feisty side of me that's begging to take center stage.

In the TOG series, SJM took a 19 year old girl who had been running from her birthright for over half her life and turned her Queen by the end of the series. A 19 year old who was an assassin and about as far away from court politics as you could get.

And made a hundreds of year old Fae warrior who worked for someone in a position of "power" her "consort."

In the Crescent City series, SJM has taken a party girl who had done nothing of real importance in her life prior to the start of the books and is turning her into the savior of all, a true descendent of the Starborn Fae. I don't know exactly what will happen by the end of the series but Bryce is already more "special" than she probably deserved for what she had been doing.

Tamlin never wanted to be High Lord:

I never expected—never wanted—my father’s title. My brothers would have never let me live to adolescence if they had suspected that I did. So the moment I was old enough, I joined my father’s war-band and trained so that I might someday serve my father, or whichever of my brothers inherited his title.” He flexed his hands, as if imagining the claws beneath. “I’d realized from an early age that fighting and killing were about the only things I was good at.”

He actively turned his back on learning how to be a ruler yet low and behold he was made High Lord (only for the time being I think). He's obviously not fit to be a ruler considering he gives f*ck all concern for his people right now.

In the ACOTAR series we have a 19 year old human queen who is queen simply because SJM decreed it so yet we have no proof of what she'd done to earn that title.

Elain has been noted as observant from book 1 and raised in a household where her mother raised Nesta on political aspirations. She didn't need to focus on Elain for those lessons for Elain to absorb the information and observe her mother and Nesta's behavior. She grew up surrounded by the political games too. She has been noted to enjoy taking care of people, something which started in book 1. In book 2 we're reminded she can convince anyone to do anything with a few smiles. She's noted to enjoy making friends, talking to people. In ACOFAS Feyre is left amazed at the wisdom Elain spoke and her observations over what something meant to the people of Velaris. In SF Cassian is impressed with how much Elain saw and observed. Elain has actively gone out to help the people of Velaris and she found a way to get humans to safety during the war. There are hints of her being loving and kind, a gentle soul who grows beautiful things (but as Rhys said, can get her hands dirty if necessary) and we know Spring in general has fallen into disrepair and it's people need hope and faith and someone to believe in. They also currently believe Lucien complicit in the lies Feyre told. Elain, who can convince anyone to do anything with a few smiles could be someone they follow and believe her when she restores his good name.

Can Elain lead an army or command generals? Probably not but could Elain help restore a people's faith and become their figure head? Why not if SJM wills it as so. And if Lucien were by her side, he could easily help her navigate. They would be a team just as Rowaelin were however Elain could still be given the title of power.

I'm not quite sure what it is about theories that confuses you. Maybe you'd prefer I use an ACOTAR hypothesis tag? We don't have one of those so unfortunately that's not the way to have a post seen but regardless, I'm not claiming anything as fact. My theory is simply my guess as to what might happen and will only be proven wrong or right when we get the next books. So I'm allowed to "feed" people delusions theories all I like. They can agree, disagree, keep it on the back burner just in case but what no one should be doing is coming into anyone's blog and telling them they're not allowed to come up with their own ideas of what could happen.

I'm not smarter than anyone in this fandom. I don't have SJM insider info. But by now, I'd like to think most followers understand that I'm not pulling my theories out of my ass with nothing to back them up and I also have read enough books by SJM to know that the females are the ones who are meant to shine. I am taking things that are actually in the book to build these ideas so you claiming I'm delusional when the text supports it as a real possibility is quite confusing to me. Could I be wrong? Definitely. But there's enough that if I turned out to be right, we have thinks to look back on and say, "ohhh! Those were possible hints!"

[oatmealdaydreams]

Green is The Shadow Colour of Red

Here's some Creativitwins while I figure out rewriting that Intruality oneshot that decided to f*ck off. Love me some twins content. Hurt/Comfort because I love writing it.

Let me know if y'all want a part two or something.

Pairing: Creativitwins (platonic, only ever platonic)

Trigger/Content Warning: intrusive thoughts (mainly of claustrophobia, autophobia, and being silenced), nightmare/night terror (?) (descriptive), getting silenced & claustrophobia & autophobia, Nightmare-Janus is a big ol' b*tch, panic attack (descriptive), vomit

Description: Remus has terrible nightmares. Roman hates how he finds out.

[Masterlist] | ao3 link

[Read below the cut]

As per usual, the twins had been bickering and provoking each other. All day. The usual brother rivalry they had going on.

And as per usual, Remus' stupid brain made it ten times worse than it really was.

He fell asleep sometime before he usually did- what was it, 9pm? 10:30? Normally, he slept closer to midnight. He'd always liked getting to stare at the poorly scribbled constellations on his ceiling, drawn with different coloured markers. It added colour to Remus' otherwise dreary room. All the dark Sides, former or otherwise, had dim or gloomy-looking rooms. Just came with being dark, it seemed.

Either way, Remus falling asleep so soon should've been the first sign that something was wrong.

But none of the light Sides would notice; they were never there. Roman didn't visit as often anymore, or hardly at all. Virgil left- no way would he ever risk bumping into Janus. Patton was afraid of him; it simply never crossed Logan's mind. Janus had been particularly busy as of recent. And Orange... well, Orange was Orange. Remus wasn't exactly sure what that little arsonist even did. He didn't have any plans to find out.

No, no one would notice.

No one would care. Janus is probably already tired of you by now.

Another sign something was amiss: his own intrusive thoughts seeped into his slumber, his dreams.

His nightmare.

A third sign: him having a goddamn, f*cking nightmare.

Things always started out small. A few icky thoughts. A weird noise. A seemingly normal, Remus-type day. But-

Janus appeared in front of him, gloves unseen and hands bare. One hand was scaly, the same side as his face-scales. Like real Janus. But this wasn't real, right?

But it is, is all Remus can think as Janus walked towards him. This is real. Why does he look so... annoyed?

He's going to throw you out. Leave you. Just like Virgil.

Remus opened his mouth to speak, only for it to clamp shut. A hand frozen and stuck, silencing him. Hindering any attempts at all. Remus looked at Janus in confusion, but then the confusion got shot away when he saw his face. The expression he wore. Remus knew Janus a lot better than he'd ever admit to. He knew his facials and what certain looks meant. And he knew the look of annoyance very well.

But Janus looked worse than that. Fiercer, more closed-off, cold. Much more determined. In such a way it sent a small jolt of fear down Remus' spine. Anger. Pure, vengeful anger.

Red. Red didn't suit Janus. But his eyes gleamed red, and maybe a few glints of orange.

Anger.

Janus backed Remus in a corner, and the darker twin felt another jolt of fear course through him. He was defenseless, silenced and trapped. He hated being trapped. He hated this, Janus knew he hated this.

"Oh, is poor little Remus scared?" Janus taunted.

Real. Afraid. Pain, pain, pain.

You deserve this. You'll always deserve this.

Remus wanted to tell him to back up. He needed space. He hated being cornered, hated being trapped in like a lab rat. He needed to be loud.

Let me speak, let me speak.

"You earned this, Remus. Don't you remember? Or are you truly just too stupid to possess anything worth a braincell?"

The sneer in Janus' voice burned. It hurt his chest. A twist in his gut. He didn't even realize he began heaving. His lungs hurt.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. This is why no one listens to you. You're so stupid.

"Aw, can't speak, darling? Such a shame."

Yes, just let me speak. I need space. Please, I need space. I'm sorry, just let me speak.

"Hm, very well, then. I suppose you'll have to think about your actions."

Before Remus could even blink, he was suddenly in a box. A cardboard, shrinking box. His hand no longer clasped over his mouth. No, instead he was gagged, and not in a fun way. The box slowly shrunk with him inside. Janus was gone, or at least he thought so. There were no footsteps or taunting voices. No sneers. No haunting anger. No more red where red didn't belong.

Oh, but that was much, much worse.

He was alone. All alone, and no one was there to save him.

The box still shrunk towards him, the space getting smaller. He pounded on the walls of the box to no avail. He tried screaming, but it remained quiet and muffled behind the gag. He was trapped and alone, and silenced. He screamed again, and again. And again, again, again. He cried, pathetically sobbed. But no one came. No one ever came for him.

You deserve to be here, alone. Trapped. Silenced. You deserve to be retrained like this.

He cried harder. He screamed. He pounded on the closing-in box walls. He was stuck. Helpless. His lungs burned, and his skin itched. He just wanted out.

Your brother would laugh. He never loved you, did he?

He couldn't breathe. Remus' whole body shook so violently, like he was his own earthquake. He wobbled where he stood, leaning against the walls. He felt so dizzy. He needed to scream louder, to be out, to be with someone. Anyone. No matter how much they hated him, he just needed to be near another Side. Maybe even Thomas. Or Remy. Emile.

He'd settle for literally anyone.

"Remus!" a familiar voice shouted, but it came from nowhere.

He was alone, he was trapped-

He screamed again. Banged on the walls again. He needed out.

"Remus- up!"

Out, out, out, out, out-

"Wake up!"

Remus shot up in his bed, tears streaming down his face. He breathed heavily. Everything was blurry, and he still shook. A weight on the bed. Someone was there. Red. He saw red when he looked at the person.

Red means anger. They're going to hurt you.

He yelped and nearly fell off his mattress. The person immediately went to his side, though he curled up in a ball. He shut his eyes tightly.

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. Please, don't put me in the box again. I'll do anything. Please.

He didn't realize he was even mumbling. The red- the person spoke softly.

"Hey, it's okay. You're safe, brother. You're okay."

Brother... Red. Red brother. Twin. Safe?

"Yes Rem, it's me. It's Roman, you're safe now. I promise I won't hurt you."

Roman. Roman is safe.

...right?

"I promise I'm safe. You're safe and okay, brother. C'mon, open your eyes. See it's me."

Remus slowly obeyed, breath hitching when he saw blurry red again. And gold. And white. A prince-looking sweater. Gold crown pajama pants. Brown hair, messy. Hazel eyes, same face-

It's Roman. Not alone. Not alone.

"That's right, I'm here. I need you to breathe with me, alright? In for four, like we've been taught. Four, seven, eight."

Roman, kneeled next to his panicking brother, helped him through a breathing exercise. He held his hands, rubbing soothing circles on his knuckles. He kept him grounded. Squeezed his hands when Remus seemed to drift off again. Remus slowly got his breathing to a much calmer rhythm. He was a bit less shaky. He still felt dizzy, though.

He glanced at Roman, who now thumbed away any remaining tears. One hand on his face, the other still holding Remus'.

"Yeah, there you go. Let's get up back on the bed, okay?"

All Remus could do was nod. Roman let go of him, and he immediately made a panicked noise. He grabbed his brother's hands, not wanting him to leave.

I can't be alone. Please, don't leave me. I don't want to be alone.

Roman picked up on it rather quickly.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm staying, I'm not leaving. I just need to pick you up, okay? Just for a moment."

Remus gave him the most vulnerable, terrified look Roman had ever seen from him. And honestly? It scared him to see his twin like that.

"I promise. I'm not going anywhere, gremlin."

That seemed to ease Remus for now, but he still kept a watchful eye on his brother. Roman hooked an arm under his twin's legs and hoisted him up, holding him tightly so he didn't drop him. Remus' breath hitched when he was suddenly in the air and not on the ground. Such a fast movement made his head spin. His gut urked. He really hoped the nausea didn't act on itself.

Roman set him down on the bed, and immediately he was pulled down to join him. Remus clung to him as if he was his lifeline. He felt nauseous, and dizzy, and- oh.

Oh, sh*t.

Roman quickly summoned a wastebasket once he saw Remus' paler-than-normal face and heard him gag. Remus threw up a lot of things into the basket. Mostly liquids and whatever the f*ck he ate earlier that day. When nothing more but bile sat in his throat, Roman summoned the basket away. Remus felt like his throat was on fire, and it stung. Tears pricked his eyes, but he was too exhausted by then to cry anymore.

Roman rubbed his back as Remus wiped away any remaining ickiness from his mouth. He still felt so dizzy. In fact, he wobbled even while leaning on Roman. His brother side-hugged him with one arm, pulling him in close. Keeping a tight grip, as if it would steady his twin. It was, at least, a firm reminder that someone was there. That Remus wasn't handling it alone this time.

Not like most times before.

Roman wordlessly summoned a water bottle, knowing dehydration was already seeded in place. Maybe that's why he was still dizzy? Maybe water would help.

"Hey, Rem. You need some water."

Remus almost didn't catch his words, but the water bottle being handed to him made the words obvious. He stayed silent, trying to open the cap himself. Unfortunately, he hands twitched and felt weak from the aftermath of his panic attack. He let out a frustrated huff.

"It's okay, I got you."

Roman opened the water bottle for him, and Remus nearly chugged it. Roman lightly chided him and made a point of needing to slow down. The bottle ended up half-gone, and Roman set it on Remus' bedside table. His brother clung to him so tightly. He still seemed tense.

Roman carded a gentle hand through Remus' unruly hair, and he just melted at the affection. He felt a wave of comfort and calm wash over him.

I'm safe. Roman is here, and I'm safe.

However calm he felt, Remus refused to fall asleep again. He knew another nightmare awaited him, and he certainly couldn't take another one. At least, not until the next night, anyway. Or maybe the next two nights. Or three. He was debating on staying awake for more than 24 hours again, but look at where that got him.

Don't sleep, they'll come for you again.

Remus suddenly hid his face in Roman's chest, hearing his heartbeat. As if his brother was a shield from all his thoughts. As if his heartbeat could drown every sound his head made. Or make sound where sound was absent.

He didn't like how quiet it was.

"Talk," Remus' voice was raspy and quiet.

"...what?"

Remus felt no need to muster any more words. So instead, he just whined.

"Okay, what about?"

His brother shrugged.

"Alright, then. I would like to know what the f*ck just happened."

Remus hesitated before trying to speak.

"Night- nightmare."

"You got... wait, what? A nightmare? Remus, nightmares don't do that to people."

Remus shrugged.

"Always get them. Not... not that bad."

He spoke so soft and raspy, and sounded so vulnerable. It made Roman's own gut twist uncomfortably. His brother was going through this most nights? Every night? How often did this even happen? And what did he mean, 'not that bad'? Roman felt scared for his twin, and couldn't begin to imagine how it felt for Remus.

"Rem, no- always? Remus, you had a panic attack. And you- you threw up. That's not a normal nightmare. That's... Rem, you kept screaming."

Another shrug. Roman still carded a hand through his brother's hair. He was tempted to hold him tighter, but he didn't want to risk him throwing up again.

He still wobbled, even if it were the littlest bit. Roman was worried. Why is he still dizzy? He had water. Why was Remus still so dizzy? Is he just shaken up? With a nightmare like that, he wouldn't be surprised.

"Remus, do you know what a night terror is?"

That got the darker twin suddenly sitting up, no longer hiding himself in his brother's hold.

"Not that bad. Just... yes, but-"

"Rem..."

Remus shrunk in on himself at Roman's tone. He sounded distressed. But why would he?

It's not like he's ever there, anyway. Why would he care? Why would he worry?

"Hey, I'm sorry. It's okay."

Roman pulled him back into a hug, using both his arms to wrap around his brother. Remus rested his chin on Roman's shoulder. The hand that once carded through his hair now rubbed his back. On his shoulder blades. Soothing circles. Calm, soothing circles.

Remus melted into his brother's touch.

"...do you know what caused it?"

Remus nodded slightly, though unsure how it would sound. The reason was dumb. The reason was always dumb.

"Is it okay if you share? You don't have to, of course."

Remus exhaled his nerves and let himself speak.

"Bad day. Lots of... conflict."

Roman immediately looked down at him in guilty surprise.

Oh no, I f*cked up. He's going to laugh-

"Did us arguing give you a nightmare?"

Roman's voice cracked mid-sentence.

Remus refused to look at him.

"...kind of. Not- not just you."

Roman had a feeling where this was going. And he really hated it. He hoped he was wrong.

"Remus, what else was it?"

"Thoughts..."

Roman never felt so upset to be right. He knew his brother had his own bad thoughts on some level. But he didn't think... how bad were they to cause a nightmare? Or, if he dared to say, a night terror? Did Remus filter himself? Roman thought he didn't have impulse control. Maybe he was wrong.

What a very sucky thing to be wrong about.

"Oh, brother... little gremlin, I'm so sorry."

Remus simply snuggled into Roman, not wanting to answer any more questions. He didn't quite understand why his brother was sorry. How could he be apologizing? It's not his fault Remus' thoughts went wack with every conflict or argument. It was just a norm Remus grew into. Just another part of being the embodiment of Thomas' Instrusive Thoughts. It was normal. He was fine.

Okay, he was clearly not fine, but that's what he told himself. Janus once said lying like that was just him coping. Janus was never wrong.

"Do you want to go back to sleep?"

Remus immediately shook his head vigorously.

"Okay, okay. Noted. Just... does anyone ever help you out?"

Remus hummed, a quiet yes.

"Good, that's good. I'm guessing Ja- uh, someone who also lives down here?"

Remus briefly gave him a weird look, but he brushed it off as him being exhausted from his nightmare. Roman was weird, anyway. He nodded.

"Then why in the f*ck isn't he here?"

Roman had an angry edge to his voice, a protective anger over his very hurt brother.

Remus froze at the slightly angry tone, and Roman sighed. He didn't mean to scare him.

"What I mean is he should be here helping you. Not angry at you. Just wanna know why he isn't here."

Remus relaxed a little at that. He shrugged, tracing four letters on Roman's arm.

B-U-S-Y

Roman understood.

"Busy? How on earth could he be busy when you're hurting like this?"

Another shrug. He seemed to do that a lot.

He'll feel so guilty if he found out I had a nightmare again, he wanted to say. He'll hate how he wasn't there.

But Remus was far too tired to speak anymore. So, he settled on staying quiet. As long as there was some other noise, he'd be fine. As long as Roman kept talking.

"I still don't understand how he could- whatever, I'll beat his ass later," Roman huffed.

Remus snorted at the mention of ass, causing his brother to smile. Laughter is good. It means he's starting to feel better.

It was silent for almost three minutes before Roman spoke again.

"Ya know how I found you like that? Remy got me."

Remus hummed.

Remy? The Sleep f*cker? Why would... oh, sh*t my ass and call me a poop log.

Remy saw. That b*tch saw it all. Remus paled and almost thought he'd throw up again.

Roman seemed to notice because he summoned another wastebasket, prepared to tip it towards Remus in case he got sick. Remus lightly shook his head no, he wasn't going to vomit. Roman kept the wastebasket nearby, though. Just in case.

Roman hugged his brother tighter, planting a light kiss on his disheveled mop of hair. Remus melted at the affection given. God, Roman was being soft and protective. It almost made Remus want to cry again. He probably would've.

But as mentioned before, he was just too exhausted. His body ached and his eyes felt heavy. Like two little anvils that squished baby birds with a loud crack. It would make a loud crack if it happened, at least.

Remus calmed down again as Roman continued explaining, remaining cautious of his next words.

"He was very worried. He kept, like... he talked real fast. All I got was you were hurt and alone, so I ran my way here."

Remy was worried?

Did I hear that right?

"A lot of people care about you, ya know. I- well, I don't show it very well and I'm sorry for that, Rem. I love you, okay? Please, just... come to me if no one else is there."

A pause. Hesitation.

"I promise to be better, okay?"

Remus nodded, half-believing his brother's words. He spelled out an I-L-Y-2 on Roman's arm. Luckily, with enough time around Patton, his twin understood.

"Do you still need me to talk?"

Remus nodded.

And Roman kept talking. He rambled on about ideas and adventures he went on in the Imagination alone, and Remus gave him a couple glares of don't die, idiot as he went on. By morning, Roman was very much wanting to sleep, and Remus had forgotten about his nightmare.

Janus did catch the sight of the twins in each other's arms, one rambling to the other. He didn't press further and simply left the room, unnoticed. Though guilt shocked his veins, he knew it wasn't the time to ask. As long as Remus was taken care of, it was okay. Remus would always be the one person he'd put before himself. At least, in reference to the other Sides.

And Roman nearly beat his ass when he saw him, later that morning. Janus' guilt was obvious and almost infectious. So, he let it go for now. He wouldn't be so merciful if there was ever a next time, though.

He made a note to argue less with his twin. And maybe check on him a lot more, especially during the night. Especially when he got quiet. It scared him when he got quiet.

He still couldn't get Remus' screams out of his head.

[queenimmadolla]

the worst thing about all this is that you're right. I've seen people post stuff where the reader is white coded and someone points it out but people jump to their defense instead of just letting the author fix it or something. it's like they'll brush it under the rug to keep the fic up and it makes me feel really bad about myself. why didn't they want me to see myself in it? I know they might have had to tweak what they wrote, but why didn't they want to?

ah man, this one hurts my heart so bad because i know you know why. we all do.

i have been in so many freaking fandoms and when i tell you people will bend over backwards to excuse exclusion and sometimes be racist to do so, just to keep a fic up, like it's insane. so disappointing. they'd say just about anything to excuse that white coded reader if it meant the author doesn't alter it or delete it. they'd encourage the author, too. i've seen it happen most with smut, sometimes with fluff, but with smut its the worst. i don't know what it is about it, but a lot of white users will prioritize imagining themselves getting f*cked over being a decent human being. we are the minorities so if a bunch of white people try to excuse a white coded reader (and sometimes the reader is just straight up white, not even coded), obviously the writer is gonna side with the support they're receiving, even when they were aware─for even a split second─that what they did was wrong. sometimes it was unintentional, but it was wrong. they'd be like oh my god, you're right, my bad i am so sorry let me fix it or take it down and the sheer amount of white users who had the unmitigated gaul to be like NOOOOO you didn't mean to do that its okay, just leave it everyone knows you didnt mean any harm ♡ was fucking baffling. like they'd say stuff like that with their whole chest, when the writer had already responded, had that moment of realization and when they were about to make it inclusive. i've stressed this before but unconditional support is very dangerous. tell your friends and people you admire when they are wrong so they can correct whatever it is. don't encourage it. i've seen this happen so many times, the encouragement of exclusion and passive racism all just so hundreds or even thousands of white users get to keep the fic they want to f!nger f*ck themselves to. its discouraging. if you ever encounter that anon, speak up, unfollow, or block them. but dont watch and let them spit on you, baby. it hurts my heart.

white creators, i know the support is nice when stuff like this occurs because it's really terrifying to realize you've unintentionally (hopefully not intentionally) hurt and left out a lot of people, but please think about the damage you're doing when you prioritize a fic about a fictional character over the feelings of multiple races and cultures. mistakes are going to be made, that's life. what we choose to do when we make those mistakes, and where go from there is what's really, really important and really telling.

[coffeeandmagicaltales]

The Auror&The Devil part 5

After Professor Fig's death, prof. Sharp was supposed to take on the role of Morana's mentor. First lesson with potion's master and first doubts- they can't be friends, can they?

A story born in my head, about my OC character Morana and prof. Aesop Sharp. Sorry for my english, I'm from Poland.

(FLUFF, Student-teacher relationship platonic (for now), mentioned trauma, mentioned death, extensive use of the word f*ck, make some coffee/tea and enjoy)

*

Sundays at Hogwarts always belonged to the laziest days of the week. At 9:40 in the morning, there was a solemn silence in the corridors, and even Peeves didn't seem to disturb it, tired from his "hard work" throughout the week. Golden sun rays streamed through the crystal stained glass windows and slowly crept across the stone floors, reaching the marble walls, irritating the sleepy portraits on the walls that wanted a little more sleep. Figures turned away from the light and settled in their seats or simply lay down where it was comfortable, snoring and murmuring softly in their sleep.

Mora walked through the corridor on tiptoes, quieter than in the middle of the night, eating a sandwich she had made in the house-elf kitchen. She had prepared another one for Professor Sharp, although she wasn't entirely sure what he liked to eat, so she packed it full of cheese, beets, spinach, and warmed it slightly in the oven to melt the cheese nicely. Finally, she added a dash of balsamic vinegar and seasoned it with salt and pepper. In any case, she liked this combination of flavors; it was rustic food, simple and from her background.

She hastened, not entirely sure if she would make it to the meeting, and climbed the stairs with just a few strides. He was already waiting for her, sitting next to the fountain, covered with the soft veil of the morning light seeping through the round stained glass window, which he gazed at thoughtfully. Mora approached him, and the first thing she noticed was a small package resting on the stone edge of the fountain right beside him.

"Good morning," she whispered.

"Hm, good morning, right on time, Miss Dimm," he mumbled and handed her the package, in which a still-warm muffin with jam was safely hidden. "I thought you might be hungry and deprived of breakfast..." he added with a hint of irony in his voice, and, to his surprise, a packed sandwich suddenly appeared in his hand. He chuckled softly, as if ironically, not admitting that this small gesture from Mora meant a lot to him and added quite seriously, "Well, perhaps next time, I'll beat Sirona to it, and we'll have a proper breakfast before we start work, because I'm not sure what might result from our culinary extravagances, and whether we both end up at Madam Blainey's..." Mora chuckled. Aesop, every time he elicited that charming, frisky laughter from her that sometimes turned into the chortling of a cheerful piglet, he felt satisfaction equivalent to discovering a new potion, and his self-confidence was revived from the dead.

"Come," he ordered, focusing all his thoughts on maintaining a serious demeanor, and began to limp toward the entrance to the library. Mora caught up with him, looking at him expectantly, and Sharp placed his hand on the door and turned to her before opening it. "Use the Disillusionment Charm and wait by the entrance to the Restricted Section. I overheard that the Old Buzzard complained to the headmaster recently that Sebastian Sallow broke in there not too long ago with someone, and the poor thing had to change the lock at her own expense. She won't let me in willingly because, you see, we don't necessarily get along..." His voice became a conspiratorial whisper, exciting Mora.

"The key should be on her desk," she whispered, and Sharp shook his head.

"Well, it was... I've used it more than once, but I've always been lucky enough to put it back in its place before Owl could realize it was missing. Mr. Sallow and his companion, unfortunately, were caught, and the whole thing went south. Now, she keeps it in the right pocket of her jacket, new key is resistant to spells... I checked."

Mora couldn't imagine how long Sharp had to spy on the librarian from hiding to gather all this information. She looked at him with pure admiration, and her eyes, fixed on him, made him uneasy. "Off you go," he ordered. Mora immediately hid under the Disillusionment Charm and slipped unnoticed between the rows of shelves, taking her position at the entrance to the Restricted Section. In the meantime, Sharp moved quickly towards one of the bookshelves and began to examine its contents. He listened for the sound of Mrs. Scribner's heels hitting the floor and slowly moved in that direction. Finally, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that she was collecting the books left by the students from one of the tables and was coming in his direction, carrying a stack of manuscripts. Discreetly, he waved his wand toward the floor.

"Glacius," he muttered under his breath and immediately concealed his wand. Scribner was getting closer, and every step she took caused a broader smile to appear on Sharp's face as he stood with his back to her, engrossed in his reading.

"OI, MERLIN!..." she shouted when her legs suddenly slipped, her body lost balance, and the books crashed to the floor with a loud noise. Suddenly, Aesop appeared next to her, gallantly preventing her from falling, as if she weighed nothing at all, and helped her to stand on her own.

„Don't want to strain yourself with all these books, do you, Professor?" he hissed through clenched teeth, not even bothering to hide the sarcasm. The woman snorted at him and dusted invisible specks from her clothing. Then she adjusted her glasses and, with a flick of her wand, made the books float behind her in the air. Sharp waited until she disappeared behind the shelves and quickly moved toward Mora. He took a golden key from his sleeve and slyly handed it to her.

"Your turn, Mora," he pointed to the entrance, feeling a thrill of excitement deep inside. His companion also seemed to be in her element, and after a few seconds, she hurried down the library stairs and searched for the right book. Aesop found a place for himself at a square table, opposite the centaur tapestries, and settled comfortably in his chair. "If any book tries to bite your hand off, stroke its back," he casually tossed toward Mora and breathed a sigh of satisfaction that their mission to break into the Restricted Section had gone smoothly. Then he summoned the Daily Prophet from his pocket and immersed himself in reading. Occasionally, he glanced at Mora, who diligently searched the shelves for information on Acromantulas; he liked how dedicated she was to her work and didn't settle for the first piece of information she found. Diligence and conscientiousness were qualities he highly valued in others, and, until he met Mora, he considered them as dying out. Their eyes met, and Mora sent him a warm smile, pleased with his company. It was a funny sight - he sat completely relaxed, reading the latest news amidst strange artifacts, stuffed creatures, and tools that made her uncomfortable. Whenever one of the chained books began to struggle more or emit groans, Sharp silenced it with a glare and a short, menacing sentence uttered through clenched teeth: "Shhh, my companion is working. you'd better not disturb her," then there was complete silence, in which Sharp's satisfied "hmm" resounded along with the rustling of turned pages from the Daily Prophet. Mora hadn't felt so comfortable with anyone in a long time. Not with Sebastian, not with Ominis, to whom she secretly had crush on, not even with her best friends Poppy and Sirona... It was a strange feeling... Sharp snorted after reading something that had annoyed him.

"Chief Constable Vincent Fromm" he began reading aloud, thinking that Mora might also be interested in this news. The woman placed a stack of selected books on the table and sat down in a nearby armchair, listening to what the article might be about. "The Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the right hand of the Minister of Magic, Faris Spavin, assures that the recent threat from the leader of the rebellious goblin group, Ranrok, has been continuously monitored by an elite group of aurors. Thanks to the swift action of Hogwarts Director Phineas Nigellus Black, they were destroyed in the bud. 'The safety of students has always been, is, and will be our priority,' said V. Fromm in an interview. 'Goblins have never posed a threat to them, and parents, as well as teachers, can sleep peacefully, knowing that the children are well cared for. All the rebels have been captured and sentenced to death, setting an example for anyone who dares to interfere in wizardkind's affairs. Goblins must understand that everything has its limits.' The Ministry of Magic appeals to parents not to be afraid to send their children to the School of Magic and Wizardry. What do you think about this, Mora?"

Morana closed her mouth, which had opened involuntarily in disbelief as Sharp read the article. "It sounds a bit like... a threat. After all, not all goblins served Ranrok willingly..." Mora began to look around the room, panic setting in as she tried to collect her thoughts, and she looked at Sharp, seeking reassurance. His eyes darkened, and she knew what he wanted to tell her. "And so, without investigation, they were... murdered?"

Sharp hung his head. "Vincent Fromm is one of those aurors who started working with me and quickly climbed the ranks. He holds somewhat radical views and is friends with Headmaster Black. Times are changing, and many high-ranking individuals still hold rather primitive worldviews. Regardless of whether a wizard is rich or poor, less educated or more, there's a passionate aversion to goblins and Muggles among many of us... like a stack of dry wood, just waiting for a spark to set them on fire mindlessly, consuming everything around. My father would undoubtedly rush to the front lines if there were ever a war between wizards and Muggles, even in his pajamas and slippers..."

He joked, though it was more of a laugh through tears than a joyful reaction.

"Hmm..." Mora pondered and unknowingly placed her hand on Sharp's forearm, which elicited a pleasant warmth in his heart. "I've spent my entire life among Muggles, and honestly, apart from a few conveniences that wands provide, I don't see much of a difference. Both Muggles and wizards can be rich, poor, educated, or more focused on mundane work...” Aesop fell deep in thought, listening to her, nodding, and humming in agreement with her words. „I've heard that 'Muggles can't see,' that 'they would be aggressive toward what's foreign to them,' but... how can Muggles see when wizards keep hiding from them? How can they not be afraid when they lack the necessary knowledge? And wizards? Do they see more than 'the foreign' in goblins and other magical creatures? Do they want to learn their customs, magic? Are they welcoming, or do they sharpen their pitchforks, like my guardians?" Mora laughed lightly. "The Dimm family is very kind, they care about me, but Professor Fig, standing on their doorstep, had a bit of that attitude. He cared about me, but didn't necessarily want to understand Lyra and Marcus... If you had come after me back then, you definitely wouldn't have ended up with pitchforks in my backside, sir."

Sharp chuckled and unconsciously brushed his cold fingers against Mora's hand.

"That's a bold statement, Miss Dimm. First, if I'd gone on foot, I'd probably still be on the way. Second, the scar on my face and the expression I usually wear would have been precisely the reason why I'd end up like an olive on a cocktail stick."

Mora burst into laughter, and though Aesop wished this moment would last much longer, it was time to focus on their duties.

"What did you find, Dimm?" he asked, resting his head on his hand.

"Hmm, pretty much what I already knew," she sighed, scanning the old pages. "Acromantulas were bred by wizards, created for their purposes, mainly to serve them. They can be very intelligent, communicate, form well-functioning colonies, protect their young, and... OH..."

The "OH" that escaped her mouth was the sound of her realization, something she hadn't seen before. The sound Sharp had been waiting for.

"You have a lot of empathy, Mora," he began quietly to break the silence, his voice soft like velvet. "For strangers, friends... for me... But you lack it toward your enemies, and sometimes that's the only thing that separates us, wizards, from dark wizards."

"I never thought I was an intruder to them, a threat... Are there... any other ways to obtain spider venom? Ways to deal with them?"

"Well, you'll likely find everything in those books; you have a lot of reading ahead. Of course, I'll encourage you to use potions as often as possible, which will allow you to become invisible to the senses of Acromantulas and generally make your life easier with many less docile magical creatures. You don't have to throw away several tons of chomping cabbage, which you probably have an illegal plantation of somewhere, hopefully not at school..."

Aesop got up, wincing slightly from the pain in his injured leg, and watched as Morana quickly transcribed a list of rather complicated elixirs that could be useful.

"Class is dismissed," he declared. "You'll find the recipes for most of what you've written down in the textbook; please read when and how to use everything. And when you find something that suits you, you'll find me in the classroom. I'll help you prepare everything. It's time to go back."

Both of them casted the Disillusionment Charm on themselves and closed the door to the Restricted Section behind them. Aesop took the key from Morana's hands and began looking for the librarian. "She's over there," he whispered. Morana could only see the floating key in the air, but she knew that Sharp was trying to figure out how to return it to Scribner without arousing suspicion. The woman circled the library, peering into every corner; she knew that the key had disappeared. Placing it on the desk would suggest a break-in into the Restricted Section. They had to come up with something else.

"Expecto Patronum!" Aesop's melodic voice trembled in the air, and a beam of light shot from his wand, creating a silvery Niffler. He grabbed the key and galloped ahead as fast as his short legs and chubby belly allowed.

"OI! NIFFLER! COME HERE YOU LITTLE THIEF! HELP!" Scribner shouted and raced after the Patronus.

"Time to go," Aesop declared.

A few minutes later, they were both enjoying the lunch they had prepared in the deserted courtyard. Potions Master ate his sandwich with relish, practically finishing it in one bite, and admitted that he probably wouldn't end up in the Hospital Wing after eating it. Mora savored her cupcake, wanting to enjoy it a little longer.

"Why a Niffler, sir?" she asked unexpectedly.

"Hmm?"

"Your Patronus, sir, why a Niffler?"

"Oh, well," Aesop swallowed the last bite of his sandwich, then reached into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief. With a gentle motion, he wiped a smear of jam from Mora's cheek and handed her a piece of fabric in case she needed it to wipe her lips, now tinted purple from the blueberry jam. Leaning against a tree and shifting some of the weight off his injured leg, Aesop continued. "The Niffler was involved in my first investigation. Shortly after my parents' divorce, I lived with my Mummy in the Highlands, not far from here. One day, her earrings, a gift from my grandmother Sapho, went missing. So, I decided to take action. Like any auror, I put on my best pajamas, attached a leaf with a safety pin on which I scribbled 'Aro,' took a stick because I had known that I needed a wand, and of course, a small bottle of juice in case I had to heal myself because I'd heard that's what my dad did at work. Then, I set off, following the Niffler's tracks until I found its stash and my mother's lost earrings."

"Wait a minute, how old were you then?" Mora caught herself, having left out the "sir," but Aesop didn't seem to notice and replied with a warm smile,

"Around five... Hmm... I think Mummy even took a picture of me; she was incredibly proud."

"SHARP!" the director's voice cut through Morana's warm laughter, who immediately fell silent and serious. Black approached them, and the same unpleasant grimace painted his face as always. "Good day, Director," they both said almost simultaneously, exchanging meaningful glances.

"I see you've already started working; good. I don't want the same kind of trouble I had with Fig!... But that's not the point," Black cleared his throat to gather his thoughts and after a moment of contemplation, he mumbled through gritted teeth. "I have a problem with a portrait in my office, Mr. Sharp."

"A portrait, Professor?" Sharp inquired, entirely seriously.

"It's the portrait of the former headmistress; she's been bothering me for three days now... I already have enough trouble teaching in place of Professor Fig, and she's been nagging me incessantly with riddles about 'bringing Professor Aesop Sharp' to, I quote: 'the place Miss Dimm knows.' You better handle it!" The director turned on his heel and continued his daily walk around the school, glaring at the students.

"I hope you know what place she's referring to?" Sharp asked, concerned.

"Yes, that's where I met the Keepers." Sharp didn't seem very pleased with that answer.

"Keepers, huh..." he mumbled, unable to hide his reluctance toward those who had put Mora in danger. "Lead the way; we wouldn't want the headmaster to get migraines because of us.”

*

Bloody stairs, he thought as he descended the steep, winding steps, following Morana, who illuminated the way with her wand. He could have easily followed the scent of her perfume, which drifted behind her in the air. The distinctive, sweet scent of herbs, which she probably had stuffed in her pockets, reminded him of the interior of Honeydukes and the candies for a sore throat, which he suddenly remembered and made a mental note to buy later. His joy at the sight of the round hall with columns filled with pale light didn't last long, and more stairs awaited him. He needed to take a moment to rest and drink a vial of Wiggenweld Potion because the pain in his knee was excruciating. He knew he had to ask Morana for help. In her eyes, he could see her eagerness to assist, but she took his words to heart and waited for his decision. Panic set in. Morana was a petite woman, and he was a big man. He felt that he should be helping her down the steep stairs, not the other way around.

"Miss Dimm, well... uh..." He cleared his throat, struggling to find the words. "Mora, could you..."

He extended his hand toward her and turned his head away in embarrassment. Her small hand grasped his fingers, and his arm suddenly rested on her delicate shoulders. She was surprisingly strong, much stronger than he had expected. Their movements were out of sync. Sharp had been nervous about it at first, but seeing Morana's wide smile, finding amusement in their stumbling descent, he felt relief. He even playfully leaned on her once, causing her to erupt in laughter, a cascade of giggles, the grunting of a happy little piglet, and bird-like sounds, which charmed him immensely. It was the most charming, terrible laughter he had ever heard, and he promised himself to elevate his rather dry sense of humor inherited from his father to hear her joy more often.

"Please... Please stop... or I'm going to pee myself," she said through tears of laughter as they stumbled down the last step.

"Thank you," Sharp whispered, setting her free from the weight of his arm, and Morana wiped away her tears, leading him further down the corridor. She still carried the scent of his clothes, which was a strange yet not unpleasant sensation. The boys her age she sometimes danced with at the fairs didn't particularly smell like anything special, or she didn't pay much attention to it. The same went for Sebastian and Ominis. Mr. Dimm usually smelled like the sweet beer he brewed or the perfumes that reminded her of the church-going grandfathers. Aesop Sharp, on the other hand, smelled stylish, elegant, and... intriguing. She resisted the temptation to examine the individual ingredients of his cologne by putting her nose to her sleeve, but her senses were tickled with oriental notes, predominantly sandalwood. It was a surprisingly pleasant blend, and even though she wasn't 'of age" only on paper, she was somewhat afraid of "adult" men. They weren't attractive to her; their facial hair felt prickly and unpleasant, their touch was rough, their voices too low, and their cologne irritating. She secretly glanced at Sharp and concluded that he was an exception to those rules. Everything about him was good, pleasant, and delicate.

"I don't know what they might want," she confessed, her voice trembling. "I was sure that if I completed the tasks, they'd stay in their portraits, and that would be it."

"They're more interested in me," Sharp said. "Maybe they have some trials prepared for me as well? Maybe tests are tailored to the person who has to perform them, so you had to fight golems, magical creatures, and ancient magic, while I'll have to deal with sorrel soup, stairs, and Professor Binns' lecture... I might as well hand in my wand right away and start growing carrots..."

Mora smiled lightly, but her mind was focused on the unknown that awaited them behind the ornate doors. Sharp gently patted her forearm to reassure her. He pushed the door open and let her enter first. Mora was accustomed to the sight of the hall, which didn't necessarily bring back pleasant memories, but she was happy that Sharp was fascinated by everything. He touched the decorations and examined the shimmering map under his feet. Four tall frames, once empty, now held the portraits of the four Keepers. Sharp felt a sense of unease, and though the painted figures didn't pose any real threat, he instinctively motioned for Morana to stay close. The figures whispered among themselves, observing him closely.

"He limps?" he caught from the barely audible sentences, and he frowned with annoyance.

"Professor Fitzgerald, Professor Rookwood, Professor Rackham, Professor Bakar," Morana greeted them one by one. Sharp silently acknowledged them with a slight nod of his head. "You asked me to introduce to you Professor Sharp."

"Yes," Professor Rackham spoke up. "We wanted to get to know the mentor of our young ward and ensure that her further education is in... capable hands. Professor Fig was irreplaceable, and we were saddened to hear about his passing. We hope that his successor will have an equally rich background, despite his young age..."

Sharp wasn't entirely sure if being called "young" was a compliment or quite the opposite.

He cleared his throat and spoke up, "First, I'd like to clarify that I am not Miss Dimm's 'mentor,' but rather a colleague, a partner. I graduated from Hogwarts with honors, and I have over fifteen years of experience working as an Auror. My specialization was the examination of dark magical artifacts, potions, and intelligence. I've been involved in over six hundred successful investigations, personally leading four hundred and fifty-two of them... I can assure you that Miss Dimm's safety is my top priority, far above any attempt to guide her future according to anyone else's wishes. Is that clear?" He spoke in a calm but firm tone, and his words echoed in the room, filling it with an eerie silence.

"Are you threatening us, Mr. Sharp?" Professor San Bakar asked, to which Sharp shook his head.

"I'm just informing you. As a Hogwarts teacher, I am fully responsible for the lives and well-being of my students, no matter the situation. Students are here to learn, foster friendships, cultivate interests, and explore the world, while any other matters are handled by my fellow professors and me."

Mora stared at him, not sure what to do. She felt a mix of embarrassment and the realization that he was undermining their authority, but at the same time, he was doing it out of genuine concern for her. For the first time in a long while, she didn't feel important to someone just because she possessed extraordinary power. She felt important because she was just Morana Dimm.

The Keepers dared not question what Sharp had said.

"Well, I think we have nothing more to add," Rackham began after a long pause, and the others exchanged glances. "If the need arises, we will be in touch with you, Mr. Sharp."

"Good." Sharp nodded. They understood his message very well. They were to stay away from Morana.

He inclined his head, signaling that the conversation was over. Mora followed in his footsteps as he headed toward the exit.

"They could have sent a bloody owl," he grumbled under his breath.

"You're very brave," Mora whispered, helping him up the stairs.

Aesop snorted with irritation at the reunion with the old professors.

"Nonsense, they are made of paint not flesh and blood. I've learned the story of Isidora. Fig wrote a brief account of it to Matilda, and she shared it with me. These are just old people who couldn't cope with their failure. They couldn't admit that their ignorance had led to a tragedy, so they swept it all under the rug... Quite fucking literally," he said, realizing that he should tone down the profanity that had been flowing from his mouth today. He immediately apologized to Morana.

In the meantime, Mora discreetly pulled his body closer to hers, almost embracing him. While they climbed stairs, she listened in silence to his silly grumbling and groaning leaving his mouth presumably just to lift her spirits. And it worked.

End of part 5, thanks for reading!

[crimbusdrimbus]

This goddamn wonderful bitch helped me understand my own gender identity.

Let me explain.

Back when I was a teen, messaging I got was something like:

"You are teen boy, teen boy is h0rny and watch p0rn. This is not good, but also it's what everyone does."

At that point in my life, didn't know I was autistic, masking REALLY f&cking hard, so of course I wanna fit in. I hear people say that X is what "all" teen boys do? Okay yeah sure I am normal teen boy I do normal thing too.

"Hey Crimbus, what the high-fructos F$CK does that have to do with Rombulus the Batulus?"

I'm glad you asked strawperson.

Rouge is, in my opinion, designed to be "conventionally sexy". She's the "ideal" or all that cultural BS.

So I see "conventionally sexy cartoon lady" (Rouge), and couple that with "yes I have normal teen boy brain"-masking, and out of the thought oven pops:

"Yes yes Rouge very sexy therefor I should think sex with this fictional character is good to be normal teen boy dude."

But oh gosh golly gee wizz, that didn't frumking happen. Who could have possibly seen THAT coming?

Oh I still thought Rouge was hot as hell, but it wasn't a "Let's bang, ok?", it was a "Heck yeah I wanna look like that and it makes my insides and outsides feel really yucky that I can't."

So anyways this is the story of how trying to force myself to be sexually attracted to Rouge as part of "normal teen boy" pre-diagnosis masking ultimately led me to realize that gender is made up and hell yeah I aspire to that astetic and be the boss ass bitch I was always meant to be.

[nyaruhodou]

um. I'm the anon who mentioned they read Surviving Romance after your rec ... do ... do you mean me when you say "Surviving Romance anon"? I'm so honored (? idk) anyway: WHAT THE F*CK IS GOING ON IN THIS COMIC??? I'm literally bewildered WHAT the hell happened to Seyeong? is she the devil? or not? because I thought that's what the reveal meant but ppl in the comments keep saying it's Seeun?! AM I STUPID ...? maybe I need to reread ... also god PLEASE let Rina be okay, I can't handle it if she doesn't make it. also WHEN will my gurls Shinbi and Juri break free?! (pls note that I only keep up with the English release and haven't looked at any spoilers and I don't want to know any) (altho I did see that THIS STORY ENDS ON CHAPTER 101??? HOW??? how are they going to wrap this up in like 9 chapters? surely not?) (wow I just realized I'm going to be really embarrassed if I'm not "SR anon" ...) (oh right i also read Miss Guillotine btw! it was wild and p good but i didn't like it quite as much as SR) okay. bye

so surviving romance anon is an anon who used to scream with me every single update and also paid for the newer chapters but PLEASE FEEL FREE TO TALK TO ME ABOUT ALL YOUR SR THOUGHTS!!!! i cant say too much bc judging by your comments i dont think youre caught up completely but AGHHHH isnt it just getting so insane?!?!?!

also yes re: miss guillotine, i liked it a lot but to me it felt like lee yone was still figuring out what themes and storytelling techniques she wanted to focus on as well as the depth of her understanding of feminist themes which i feel she also improved upon in The Makeup Remover if youve read that!!

[uglybirdsnest]

Vapor Trails

- Chapter 05 -

Chapters list • My AO3

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The next morning, the whole class was astonished by a boy with a messy appearance who just walked into the classroom in the middle of class. "Hey, Andou Daisuke, stop there!" Kasukabe-sensei who felt irritated shouts because all of the students now aren't directing their eyes towards the blackboard but towards the boy whose name was being called. "Andou Daisuke!" He repeated only to get ignored by the boy.

Daisuke walks straight to his seat, but he realized that the boy who always sat next to him was not Toshiya now, rather a short boy with a bowl-like haircut who is currently sleeping. Who's his name again? Daisuke doesn't even now (and care). Feeling a little curious, he glanced to his right and saw that Toshiya is now sitting behind a boy with slightly long hair and bangs. He poked the boy's shoulder saying "Shinya-chan don't mind him." and the boy gave Toshiya a side eye before turning his head slightly and answering "You're giving me creeps, stop bothering me."

"Shinya-chan, rude!"

Aaah f*ck. Daisuke doesn't want his feelings to be all over the place on this lousy morning. Remember, he must focus. He puts down his bag and was preparing to take out his book when Kasukabe-sensei arrived at his seat with a long wooden ruler. The sound of a wooden ruler hitting Daisuke's table made the bowl-haired boy startled and wake up. "What is it noooow!" he groaned.

"Ah, it's just you. Disturbing my f*cking sleep." He tried to put his head on the table again but two fingets landed on his ear. "Ow ow ow ow!! What the hell!!"

"Ah, Kyo-chan's ears got tweaked again!!"

"Don't 'chan' me, idio- ow!!" He meant to answer the boy's 'insult' but instead he got his ear tweaked even more and now his ear becomes redder like an apple that's ready to be eaten. The bald man hummed in an angry tone and goggled his eyeballs, and with his mout open, he shows a row of yellow teeth due to frequent coffee drinking.

"You only like him because he's smart! He smoked cigars in toilet many times before. He's just another delinqu-"

"Don't talk back to your teacher!!" Kasukabe-sensei snapped and hit the boy's head with a ruler to made the boy groaned again. Toshiya just giggled in his seat in the corner with a very satisfied face. "I'm an elite delinquent though! Aah~.. Oh! Weren't you there too, Kyo-chan?" Toshiya said once again and Kyo swears he will kick his ass later. Shinya just made a disgusted face as he continue his notes while all of the class laughing.

Daisuke had completely forgotten that Toshiya always tries to mingle with everyone. Although he prefers to spend his time with Daisuke, he also jokes around with almost all of the boys in class, moreover with that Kyo guy. Daisuke actually had seen those two went to men's toilet on together on breaks to smoke. Of course it would be easy for him to find a replacement for Daisuke, right? Now Daisuke was wondering to himself, did Toshiya choose him because he looked the most pathetic sh*t in class? If he think about it, Toshiya would be better off beside the other guys than he is.

"I want to be here." Daisuke answered nonchalantly while looking for his stationery. Where did he put his blunt, thumb-lenght, pencil?

"You're already expelled, Andou. We already gave the letter to your mother, correct? I'm sure your presence is not needed anymore." Kasukabe-sensei turned to Daisuke with a raised eyebrow. The boy knew it. That's why he put his things back into his bag and got up from his seat so recklessly that his chair fell to the floor.

He couldn't possibly visit his mother at this hour because it was still school time and he didn't want to make his mother ore stressed by seeing her stupid son in the morning on the hospital instead of school. Finally Daisuke chose to go to the Naka market and start his work as a manual laborer again.

The clock at the bus station now shows 4PM, Daisuke rides his old bicycle to the hospital to see his mother's condition. But he couldn't do much because his mother is sleeping. In the end, he just sat with her until the sun went down.

Daisuke parked his bicycle in his yard and entered the hut. Smelling his shirt which is now very smelly with sweat, he immediately went to take a shower. He was about to dry himself with a towel before he realized that there was not a single towel in his sights. So he decides to use his shirt? to wipe his body and came out of the bathroom without any single fabric protecting his skin. The cold air began to be felt by the boy because he got goosebumps and his skin made small microscopic dots.

Should he make firewood after this? Or.. should he just light a candle? But, can the candle warm his body? Wait a minute, does he still have clean clothes to wear anyway? Who knows. Daisuke just hoped he could find a long sleeve shirt that at least isn't too smelly to wear. Daisuke's room door, which was now rickety because it was eaten by termites, made a loud squeaking sound as he open it and stepped inside.

"You took way too long!!"

Daisuke was surprised to hear someone else's voice in his room. From the darkness of the room he vaguely saw a figure of...

"Waaah!! Why are you naked????"

Toshiya covered his entire face with his palms even though his long fingers left a slight gap for his left eye to peek out. His cheeks and ears turned red and his heart pounded. This stup*d ass...

"Why are you blushing, sh*thead?! Are you a girl??" Daisuke with his right hand throws his dirty clothes towards Toshiya and one of his shirts lands right above his head covering his view from Daisuke. "D-Dai-chan! Why are you naked- Gyaa!! Don't come closer! I'm not ready to be a father yet!!"

"Can you shut the f*ck up??! I don't want the neighbors to hear and make up strange rumours!" Daisuke threw Toshiya again with another dirty clothes he just picked up from the floor. "-urgh!"

The two of them walked along the path along the watermelon field with Daisuke guiding his bicycle. Half of his mind was a little disbelieving that after what he did to Toshiya, he still wanted to see him, let alone walk with him. And half of it, he thought that Toshiya is just dumb, that's why.

It feels very awkward. Of all the sounds that were there that night, only the sound of their footsteps could be heard clearly by Daisuke. Where had the sound of the crickets and frogs gone a moment ago? This silence was killing him. Haaah, he really should get on his bicycle and go to Kaoru's stall before 7PM. And now he's forced side by side with the boy who's trying to cover up his blushing by making a serious face (he failed). Daisuke glanced at the younger boy next to him and couldn't help but sigh.

"Dai-chan.." Toshiya began to spoke, finally killing the silence. "It's really sucks when someone doesn't have something to fulfill what they want. And I know that it's really frustating when you don't have a dream like others." he continued. Daisuke can only laugh wryly because that's the truth.

Daisuke looked at the night sky, following the moon before he answers. "I think.. I'm alive because I can't die yet. I'm trying to vent my anger but I only have myself so what's the point? I'm afraid to open my eyes every day and breathe. It's like.. I'm floating in the sky, I'm fa-"

「 … 」

Continue to read the rest of Chapter 05 on my AO3 (link)

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Hello. Thankyou for clicking this story. As I said before, on tumblr I will only post half of the chapter, so you need to go to my AO3 to read every chapter fully.🤍

Always remember that my stories are FREE, because this is a fanfiction, that should be released free and I purely wanted to share it with all DEG fans, moreover Die lovers 🤍

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Lots of love,

Bird 🕊

[pinkchangelingdemon]

Who am I? Part 4

-Mr Walker! I demand to know what are you doing in my office right now! - ordered the principal.

I finally had f*cked up. How could I explain as the PE teacher that I was searching for the file of a student that perhaps never existed and I didn't know his name?

Then it hit, I didn't need to explain anything. Just breathe in and then exhale. With that I flew straight to the principal's nostrils and took possession of him.

-Mr Walker! Is good to see you- I said trying the principal's more mature voice while rubbing my nose- I have so much work to do, can we meet in another time?

-Su...sure Richard- answered Rob.

I accompanied the disoriented PE teacher to the door.

...

- Good morning, I'm Richard Smith, the principal-I said serious to my reflection in his phone camera. Nailed it.

Then I took a good look at my beefy body. After being a PE teacher and a running instructor, this body felt like a release. It felt so comfortable and big.

-Oh...f*ck!- I moaned when the monster between those meatier legs started to call for attention. Hearing my moaning didn't help stop it.

I tried to focus. No memories of a student or a student file missing. Sh*t. Looking more inside his memories I learnt that he was divorced and very homophobic. Ugh. I've been trying my best not to change people's lifes but this big guy was about to visit a gay bar that night for sure.

...

Now it was time to take care of my boner. His office wasn't a good place.

I walked to the teacher's bathroom. At that hour everyone was in class so the hallways were empty. That was a relief because I could see the bulge of my enormous d*ck rubbing against the jeans demanding attention.

I entered the teachers lounge, empty, and then opened the bathroom's door only to find my previous host, the PE teacher, on his knees sucking the math teacher's cock.

I chuckled, both of them assimilated another trait of mine. I always forget to lock the doors.

- Good morning Mr Walker, Mr White. - I raised my voice copying the same tone the principal used when he found me in his office.

They froze for a moment and then looked at me. I could see the colour leaving their faces. Apparently, every teacher knew about the homophobic side of the principal.

- Richard we weren't... - Mr White tried to protect Rob.

-Save it - I said serious, then I closed the door behind me and smirked - there's only one way I can forget something like this.

They still looked like they've seen a ghost. I helped them to understand the situation by unzipping my jeans, releasing my erected can c*ck. After all, I needed to take care of that.

-Come here both of you, take care of this - I ordered stroking a little my big member- and everything is forgotten.

The teachers looked at each other in disbelief.

-NOW- I commanded them.

And they obeyed. Two of my school crushes licking the member of the probably most homophobic person in school, and the one in charge.

The realization of the power this body had over the rest, only made me more horny.

I brought the maths teacher's face to mine and started kissing his bearded face, while my other hand was keeping Rob sucking my dick.

They were enjoying it.

...

-Hey both of you - I pointed at them, while I buttoned my grey polo again- THIS didn't happen. I don't care if you come here to f*ck, just LOCK THE F*CKING DOOR. UNDERSTOOD? -I said using Richard dominating personality.

-Yes, Richard - they both said at the same time.

-Now, go do your f*ckng job! - the dominance of this body was making me horny again.

They left still shocked of everything that happened in that small bathroom.

I looked at my reflection in the mirror.

-Time to search for that file.

...

I didn't find it, and I couldn't recognise any of my classmates as myself. I gave up.

I sighed scratching my bald head.

-Some things aren't meant to be know, right Rick?-I said looking at my reflection in the window of the principal's office.

I fleshed a little and smirked.

-Now, as promised, let's take this body to a gay bar. Your homophobic days are over, Rick.

[sleepdeprivedsimp234]

I was watching a video to get a screenshot and I had a thought.

Massachusetts acts all tough on purpose. He's convinced himself that he has to in order to be what the other states need. He's all smiles and brags about having started a war because that's what people expect from him, right?

Then someone sneaks up on him on accident, and he snaps because he thought of the other state as a threat at first. Though he feels bad about it. And that's when another state realizes that maybe he's not actually how he presents himself all the time. And Mass finally admits to it, so long as the other state doesn't tell anyone else about it, and doesn't worry too much about him.

Aw poor Mass 🥺 a little fic idea for the Doctor Duo (Mass and Texas) before they were GOOD friends just popped into my brain so here it is:

Texas walked into the kitchen to get some water when he noticed Massachusetts standing over the counter with his head down. He was a little confused, seeing as Massachusetts was usually standing tall and proud and loud and uncaring of what people thought of him. And tbh, Texas sorta idolized him to an extent. So seeing him of all people hunched over the counter looking like a kicked puppy was weird. He decided to the big grown up thing and go check on the Northeasterner.

He walked over and placed a gentle hand on Massachusetts' shoulder. He did not, however expect to be swung around and thrown at the kitchen island and pinned there with a knife to his neck. Once he regained his composure to some extent, he opened his eyes to see Mass staring back at him with wild green eyes that were filled with fear and unshed tears and he was panting a little bit.

"Mass?? The hell's wrong with ya?!" Texas exclaimed. Tho he was a bit impressed at the fact that Mass was able to throw him that easily, despite him being a foot taller.

Mass's eyes flashed back to their usual brown color, and he seemed to snap out of something. He noticed that he currently had Texas pinned to the kitchen island with a knife.

"Oh sh*t- uh- s-sorry about that Texas...." Mass muttered, just barely loud enough for the younger to hear. He moved the knife and pulled the taller state into a standing position. He walked to the counter and put the knife back into its drawer.

Texas brought his hand up to his neck and wiped some of the blood off from where the knife had grazed his skin. "I-its fine I guess... Are ya alright tho?"

"Huh? Oh- uh- yea ya just scared the sh*t outta me is all." Was Mass's response. Texas was calling bullsh*t tho, there was clearly something else that was wrong.

"Are ya sure? Ya looked a wet kicked puppy when I walked in ere'."

"I said I'm fine okay?!" Massachusetts snapped, turning around and glaring at the taller. His face softened a little bit when he saw the momentary hurt look on the younger state's face. "S-sorry I shouldn't have yelled."

"It's fine...."

"No it's really not, you're just trying to help and I'm being an asshole." Mass said.

"....Are you sure yer alright? Yer actin' weird Mass, and not a good weird. Ya dont normally apologize for... Anythin'." asked the Lone Star State once again.

"I already told ya, I'm fi-...." Mass started to say before trailing off. Was he really gonna lie again? I mean- how much longer could he lie? How much longer could he keep up his strong, stoic stature? He continued thinking for a while before a Texan accent broke him out of his thoughts.

"Massachusetts?"

"Im just- tired." Mass said with a defeated sigh.

"Of what? Didja not sleep last night?" Texas asked, visibly confused.

"No no- I slept fine.... I meant mentally."

"Okay.... Can ya elaborate a little bit?" asked the younger, taking a seat at the kitchen island.

Mass also walked over and took a seat. "Of pretending. Like im something I'm not... Everybody thinks im this strong stoic 'i-dont-give-a-f*ck' type'a guy. Thats not at all who i am.... Im just some jumpy nerd/coward that threw some British sh*t over the harbour and started a war cuz we didn't like how we were being treated...."

"Oh.... I kinda get that..." said the taller.

"Ya do??" Mass asked, a little surprised.

"Yea.... Y'know how scared I was when I was a little girl being mistreated by her father and then she decided to start a war all on her own?" Texas asked quietly with a small chuckle.

"No?"

"I was terrified, and I was worried that maybe that wasn't the right decision, and that maybe all of my people wouldve died for nothin'. I'm still terrified to this day, but I'm not gonna let any of those motherf*ckers know cuz I know that I would never live it down." sighed Texas.

"Yea I get what ya mean kid..."

"Mhm..." The two were silent for a while before Texas spoke up again. "Mass?"

"Yeah kid?"

"Now I'm not all too good at that sappy compliment stuff.... But I want you to know that you are strong and stoic and all that razzle dazzle. Maybe not in the way that you make yourself to be, but you are strong, and you are brave. And you are smart as well, I'm not gonna deny that part. But you're not just some jumpy coward. A coward wouldn't take that big of a stand to the world's strongest empire, let alone their asshole father."

"You know about that?"

"Yea. York has told me about y'all's asshat of a father."

"Oh..."

The two states were once again silent for a while. Mass sighed out of nowhere and stood up, breaking the silence.

"Well this was... Nice i guess. I think im gonna go do whatever work my government decided to give me."

"Okay then. I'm gonna go check on Ranger before closin' up the barn for the night." Texas said, getting up as well, and the leaning back slightly and allowing his back to pop several times. And of course leaving the Bay State in genuine fear that Texas had broken his back.

"Holy crap didja just break yer damn spine or somethin'?!"

"Uh nope I don't think so hehe. My spine is just crunchy as hell" Texas said, grinning slightly.

"Okay then..." Mass said, breathing a sigh of relief. He watched Texas walked away before starting his way up to his room. When he walked into to hallway, he felt two arms grab him and wrap him in a hug. He was about to punch them, but he quickly and luckily recognized the slight scent of apples, coffee, and roses and just hugged back with a sigh of contentment.

"Hey Masshole."

"Hey Yorkie..." Mass answered, burying his face in York's chest (not a ship lol). Once again, silence befell their existences as they hugged each other tightly.

"If ya ever tell anybody im huggin' ya, I will kill ya in yer sleep. Cuz I will never hear the end of it." York said, burying his face in Mass's hair.

"Don't worry, I won't gigglebug." Mass said with a small snort.

"I'm not a damn gigglebug."

"But you are tho." Mass said before standing on his tippy-toes and blowing a gentle raspberry on York's neck, making younger shriek a little and move away whilst giggling like a child. "See? Gigglebug."

"F*ck you."

"Love ya too Yorkie."

"I'm goin' back to my hobbit hole- try to get some sleep tonight so I don't have to deal with your b*tching about how tired you are." York said, before walking away.

"Pfft- okay then. You try to get some sleep too for once!" Mass whisper-shouted.

"Yea yea whatever..."

Mass laughed to himself a little bit. "Lil idiot...."

[levis-little-nuggie]

How the brothers would react to catching f!MC riding a suction-cupped dildo on the communal HOL washing machine

I didn't think through how much I hate this idea, but I fuckin ran with it so here we are and I'm not apologizing. However the title is still a work in progress. I am accepting ideas.

This first one is Lucifer's reaction.

Warnings: little bit of blood (in a sexy way), he calls MC some vulgar names >:( but he apologizes so I guess it's okay, fem!MC because I was feeling self-indulgent.

Rating: explicit 😌

Word count (so far): 2,628

Carrying the weight of the hamper on her hip, MC closed the laundry room for behind her and padded over to the oversized washing machine. It was laundry day for her and living in a mansion with seven demon brothers didn't make this any easier. Their keen sense of smell had her on edge about keeping certain articles of clothing cleaner, washing them more frequently than when she lived in the human world.

She threw in her load of pajamas, towels, and underwear, including the pair she had been currently wearing, leaving her in an oversized shirt she'd "borrowed" from Beel. MC mixed in the detergent and fabric softener, and started the cycle. As the hot water started pouring into the bin, MC double-checked that the door was closed before pulling out the suction-cup dildo she'd hidden in the laundry bin and stuck it to the top of the washer. MC nudged the step stool closer to the machine, applied a generous amount of lube to the toy, clambered on top of the washer, and positioned herself over the dildo.

Thanks to previous instances in the laundry room, MC was fully aware of both the machine's durability to hold her weight comfortably, and its vigorous shaking when loads were unbalanced. Asmo had winked at her when she came running to him for help for taming the large appliance. "You could say, with a bit of creativity, it'd be the next best thing to sitting on my face, hon."

He'd been right. Unfortunately, this also meant that Asmo knew what laundry day meant to MC and she already felt mortified sharing this dirty secret with Asmo so MC tried her best to schedule her trip to the laundry room for whenever he wasn't home. Luckily enough, it seemed the rest of the brothers were completely unaware of her sinful indulgence and this activity quickly became addicting.

Having already been wet from the excitement, MC's fingers slid into her, pumping and scissoring to stretch herself open. She pressed the tip of the toy against her opening, biting her lip to stifle the noises she wanted to make as her fingers moved to circle over her clit, squeezing her eyes shut as her hips lowered onto the toy. Taking a few moments to breathe from the size of the dildo filling her up, MC maneuvered her legs to shift from her kneeling position sitting on the machine, toy fully sheathed inside, her ass against the lid, and legs hanging over the top.

Her hands trembled from both the excitement and the warmth that stirred in her lower abdomen as she reached for her phone; the machine would be still for awhile as the clothes soaked, but MC loved to fantasize she was cock-warming any one of the brothers until they both gave in and he fucked her mercilessly.

Lazily circling her hips to feel the toy move around inside her, MC mindlessly nibbled on her thumb while flicking thru Devilgram. Scrolling down the feed, she stopped to watch a video Mammon had posted, the audio flowing through the DDD's speakers a teaser for an upcoming song he was releasing. Turning up the volume on her device, MC let the video repeat as she felt herself getting hyped for the track to release. After double-tapping to like the post and leaving an energetic comment, MC opened the music app on her DDD and shuffled the playlist she made of the brothers' songs to stream while she opened a game on her phone to complete the daily task while waiting for the washer cycle to start.

The above set-up will be the same for all the brothers. Below this point will be Lucifer's reaction.

Another prank from the Lucifer You S*ck team left the eldest with some ruffled feathers and an ever-growing coffee stain on his RAD uniform. A vein pulsed on his forehead as he sauntered to the laundry room.

What he wasn't expecting, however, was to hear MC singing along to Satan's song behind the laundry room door. The eldest brother hesitated, his grip tightening on the doorknob as he debated waiting for her laundry to finish but found his brows furrowing as she stopped singing, the machine started its spin cycle, and the faintest of moans floated through the door.

"What in Diavolo's name-" Lucifer opened the door to investigate but halted as he took in the scene before him. MC's eyes had widened, staring directly at Lucifer in a way that perfectly explained the human idiom "like a deer stuck in the headlights." Her mouth was agape but quickly snapped shut as she tried to stifle her panting, legs crossing themselves in an attempt to look innocent, but her white-knuckle grip on the edge of the washer had him feeling alarmed.

"MC, what's going on? Are you feeling unwell?" The machine had started rocking as it began its spin cycle, but Lucifer couldn't figure out why MC was sitting on top of the washer. Was she feeling ill? Her forehead had a sheen of sweat, did she have a fever? Lucifer dropped his clean uniform and crossed the room so he was directly infront of MC, reaching out to feel her heated face, completely disregarding her feeble attempts to assure him she was fine.

'Lucifer! I'm fine, just doing some laundry' was what she wanted to say. However, with the machine rocking, the dildo was rubbing right up against her g-spot and she was fighting the urge to grind her hips. She managed to sound out the first half of his name, but the way his gorgeous, ruby eyes looked into hers with concern, his facial features that were carved by God himself, and a single thrust against that spot had her shivering, finishing the rest of his name in a sultry moan.

The Avatar of Pride blinked as the cogs in his brain stuttered trying to piece together what was happening, his hand froze in mid-air as he had been reaching out to feel the temperature of her skin. The machine continued to rock and MC couldn't find the strength to pretend she wasn't riding a dildo on the communal washing machine and felt her control starting to slip. MC couldn't read the expression on his face and averted her gaze, trying to deny that him watching her like this was turning her on even more.

Seeing his hand stretched out, MC leaned forward the small distance to press her cheek against his palm, biting her lip as she stole a glance at the demon. His eyes remained transfixed, dazed, but he didn't pull his hand away and MC was feeling a little more daring than usual. Tilting her head, she pressed his thumb against her lip, her eyes flickering again to his own for barely half a second, and closed her lips around the tip of his thumb, running her tongue along the seam of the leather. His lack of response coaxed MC on to keep going. Her tongue drew the digit in further, lips gliding over the leather, the material fueling new fantasies she'd previously overlooked.

As the dildo continued its steady rocking, MC felt her control melting away and frustration slowly started to build. Why hadn't he moved? Surely it'd be better if the eldest had scoffed in disgust and turned away than to have him just staring at her like this. She swirled her tongue around his thumb, lips hollowing as she sucked, trying to illicit some sort of response from the demon.

However, he remanded unmoving. MC felt an array of emotions ranging from frustration, shame, embarrassment, anger, all mixed with the sexual desire raging thru her, MC felt tears prick her eyes. She released the thumb from between her lips with an audible pop and faced Lucifer with a snarl; which he found endearing and as threatening as the chihuahua.

"I don't do live performances. Either touch me or leave." MC made a show or grabbing her breast from under her shirt, letting the pleasure from the toy fill her senses and began grounding her hips against the toy as the spin cycle picked up speed. Getting ready to bark at him again, MC yelped as the shirt was torn open and a pair of hands gripped her hips keeping her still but the dildo continued moving with the machine.

"I didn't realize our little human was such a naughty slut. Really. Sticking a toy on our washing machine? Are you that desperate to be fucked?" Nails bit into her flesh as his voice called out her sins, all traces of her bravado gone, replaced with an overwhelming sense of embarrassment and shame. MC tried hiding her face but he still saw the tears that threatened to spill over before crawl down her face and cooed.

"There's nothing to feel ashamed over, my dove. I apologize if I was too vulgar." Lucifer lifted her hips and she squirmed, not ready for him to see the full extent of the situation; the idea of the dildo coated in her juices waving about on top of the poor washing machine only intensified her embarrassment. However, before she could speak out, Lucifer dropped her hips causing her to slam herself back down on the toy. Stars erupted across her vision as the demon repeated the action, drinking in her reactions and felt his erection strain against his pants.

"This carnal desire is human nature. If anything, it's our own fault for not considering such a basic need." His fingers trailed along her neck, tapping against her pulse as if in thought. The hum of the washer broke through the moment and Lucifer clicked his tongue behind his teeth. He reached behind her to turn off the machine and lifted MC off the machine, and the dildo.

MC didn't get a chance to wince from the manhandling as her lips were immediately covered with his own and she felt him pulling her close to him, his hands urging her to wrap her legs around him. She couldn't match the fire he was pouring into her fast enough and he growled, simultaneously smacking her ass and grinding his erection against her folds. This new side of the prideful demon caught her off guard, but the smack brought her back with a fervor.

Her hands fumbled with the buttons on his collar and he kneaded where he spanked her, causing MC to mewl into the kiss. One of his hands moved up to hold the back of her neck as he walked to pin her against a wall. Her legs squeezed his hips tighter and he reached up to break open the collar of his shirt, shedding the clothing haphazardly somewhere else in the room. Meanwhile, MC moved to undo his pants, reaching into his trousers to palm his erection. Lucifer hissed and grabbed her wrists, pinning them to her stomach with one hand.

Releasing her lips, Lucifer latched onto her throat, biting down on the skin above her pulse and positioned himself at her entrance, hesitating for only a moment to allow her the chance to back out. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she braced herself, kissing the side of his head, and granting him permission with a soft, "please." Her voice turned into a wanton cry as he pushed himself into her. His tongue lapped at her throat, sucking against her skin as a feeble distraction to keep himself from fucking her before she was ready but the way her body was receiving him was making the demon tremble.

"Lu, please, I need you to fuck me," all shyness and mortification was gone and all that remained was the sexual desire and a sense of urgency.

"Do you know what you're asking of me, my dear? Do not underestimate me."

"Lucifer, fuck me or else I will invoke our pact and make you-" the rest of MC's threat was lost, replaced by a sob as Lucifer's restraint snapped and began thrusting wildly into MC. It didn't take long for him to readjust his position, turning them away from the wall. With his hands on her hips, the eldest brother moved her against his thrusts, bouncing her on his cock and slamming back into her. His rhythm would change randomly between fast and shallow to deep thrusts where he'd pull out to the tip and snap his hips to fully sheath himself. He'd felt her muscles constrict around him a few times, keeping a tally of how many orgasms he pulled from her, but he wanted her to make a mess and to make a mess of her.

Bending MC backwards, he continued drilling into her as he held her hips in-front of him. Her voice cried out in a scream as he relentlessly thrusted against that spot and she felt a wave building.

"Lu s-st, wait, I'm, you're gonna make, h-hold on-"

"I know MC, it's okay. Let go."

With Lucifer's words of encouragement, MC felt herself relax, giving in to the impending wave that continued to build. Reaching out, her hands found a shelf to stabilize herself, her mouth open in a silent scream as the dam broke and ecstasy filled her senses. The way she clamped down on his cock had Lucifer's hips stuttering through his own orgasm, filling her with his seed quicker than he had intended; the intensity of her orgasm having coaxed his to follow suit.

As the fog cleared in his mind, Lucifer's fingers twitched and he noticed the array of bruises littering her hips. MC lifted her head to look up at him, but the rest of her body was limp. She smiled sheepishly causing Lucifer to roll his eyes but his lips turned to shape a playful smile and MC giggled as he pulled her up. They winced as he pulled out of her, but she kissed his cheek and he brushed his nose against hers, humming as they basked in their afterglow together.

Lucifer grabbed a blanket to wrap around them and turned to leave the laundry room when he caught sight of the glittery purple dildo still mounted to the lid of the washing machine. He snorted and walked over to it. Having curled into the demon, MC had to turn to see why he'd stopped walking and groaned.

"Don't you dare."

"Hmm?

"You're going to say something really condescending and I don't want to hear it." MC snuggled closer into Lucifer's chest, pulling the blanket over her head in protest.

"I don't know about 'condescending,' but-"

"Lucifer, don't you fuckin do it."

"This had to been Asmo's idea."

"..."

"It just reeks of desperation and wanting to get caught."

"Lucifer!"

"Now if you had been a good human, and come to me with your situation sooner, all of this could have been avoided. But now, there's a big mess to clean up." Having lived with the demon brothers long enough and sitting thru many a famous Lucifer lecture, MC could hear the smirk in his voice. In retaliation, MC pinched the Avatar of Pride's nipple earning her a grunt and a thump on the back of her head. She hissed like a cat from behind the blanket and Lucifer sighed from the absurdity of the whole thing.

"Do you want to go get cleaned up?"

"....yes."

"Do you need me to keep carrying you?"

"...yes."

"Then be a good girl and hold this." MC pulled the blanket away from her head, curiosity having piqued her interest, but groaned when Lucifer handed her the aforementioned dildo. "I don't want the others seeing this in case the room isn't cleaned up by the time they come back from their classes."

Damn him for making perfect, logical sense.

"Besides, I might want to use it on you later."

"...I hate you."

"I know."

[ravs6709]

Won't You Shine With Me (Oh Distant Star Of Mine)- Hekster, Kam, Marelliana, Fedex

Act 1. Act 2 (here). Act 3. Act 4. Act 5. Act 6.

Or read on ao3 here!

Word count: 4.7k words

Act 2 to my revue starlight au! If you haven't read act 1 yet, make sure you do that! And okay, I say all those ships, but act 2 has focus on hekster and kam, the other two will get their turn in the later acts

Fun fact, this was going to be a oneshot, but then it was getting long so since i was already splitting into acts, i decided to post each act separately

Again, I know very little of theatre lol, I'm just vibing here.

Warnings: censored swearing, brief mention of drowning that isn't too serious but warning anyway

•~•~•~•~•~•

ACT 2

SCENE 1

"Punishment?" Stina gasped, jolting up.

Her heart pounded wildly, almost terrified, before realizing that she was in her room.

"Are you okay?" Linh asked from the other side of the room, awake, but in bed. "That startled me."

"It's nothing," Stina replied.

She had no memory of getting into bed. So was it seriously just one long dream? Well, a dream made more sense than an alicorn being real, and Foxfire having secret duels in its basement that allowed people to magically transform into outfits that looked like something Stina would see in a cartoon.

(It was more realistic than Sophie Foster being back in her life.)

...there was a suitcase in the room. The suitcase that belonged to Sophie. The pillow beside her was also warm.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Linh asked.

"Yeah," she breathed, retaking in the events that had happened the night before. Well, if an alicorn was real, then maybe it was the reason she woke up in bed. "Where's Sophie?"

"She went for a walk. You're having her room here?"

"Uh, yeah. I probably should have asked you in advance..."

Linh smiled. "It's fine! I don't mind."

Stina nodded. "Thank you."

She quickly got herself changed so she could go look for Sophie. She let her off last night, but she needed answers. She ran around the school, but didn't find her. She figured that she'd just see her in class, then. Sophie was sitting at her desk, and the moment Stina opened her mouth to talk to her, Mr. Forkle walked in. 

Of course.

Classes were extra lively this time, and Stina didn't have the idle time to chat with Sophie. It wasn't like she was completely avoiding her, because she was present when they were with other people. Sophie even struck a few, mildly awkward conversations with her during lunch. Never alone, never in a place that Stina could ask her about the revue yesterday.

 When Stina and Tam were paired together to practice another dance, Tam was a lot more aggressive in his movements, and she could barely keep up with him.

"Hey Bangs Boy, calm yourself!" Keefe said from the sidelines.

If she hadn't known hadn't known better, she probably would have said something similar to him. But she did know, and she wasn't in the mood to deal with an angry Tam. Especially when she was the cause for it.

"The revues were supposed to be duels," Tam whispered, "why did you interfere?"

"Silveny never stopped me, and I thought that I needed to act. Is there any other reason that I have?"

"Do you even know what you're getting yourself into?"

"No, but I'm trying to get Sophie to explain it to me."

"You're saying you never got an email?"

"An email?"

Tam sighed, "Oh, for f*cks sake. You were never even meant to be here, were you?"

"I don't think so."

"It's not like you can opt out now."

"Okay," she said. She figured that she'd have to try harder now too.

"You can't opt out of acting now, now that you're giving yourself to the stage."

"I think I get that much." 

She'd said she'd quit, she could have just left the two of them alone to fight each other, but she didn't. In the end, she really was an actor, even towards herself, huh?

SCENE 2

"You should quit the auditions," Sophie told her.

"What?" Was she serious? The idea of being the Top Star, of shining so bright, Sophie was telling her to drop out? "Tam told me you can't opt out."

"Who told him that?" Sophie asked.

"I trust his opinions more than most of of the people in the school." She shrugged. "Why should I quit when I've just started?"

"Because you want to quit acting, because you have a fading glimmer that won't make it in these revues."

"What do you know?" Stina snapped. "People get irritated and say whatever all the time. How do you know if I wasn't doing the exact same thing? You haven't seen me in ten years, what do you know about my skills and my 'glimmer?' I'll shine as bright as I want to! I'd say that you're the type of person who who would never discourage someone from following their passion, from doing what they think is right, but what do I know about you, Sophie Foster?"

Not for the first time in two days, she found herself to be the biggest fool, to think that things would stay the same. That they'd carry on from where they'd left off. She was stupid to think that Sophie cared about their promise as much as she did. What did she even know about Sophie? So much time was enough to change one's personality.

"I finally have the opportunity to be on the same stage as you, and you want me to quit?" Stina asked, her voice wavering so much more than she wanted it to.

Sophie flinched. Good, feel just as devastated as she felt right now. Look just as shattered as the relationship that they shared.

"That's not what I meant at all—"

"Well that's certainly what it sounds like! I came all this way, I begged my parents to enroll me in a crap ton of different lessons when they just wanted me to help them take care of the business, I worked my *ss off so I could get myself into Foxfire—which has a stupidly low acceptance rate, not that it matters to you, since you have your stupidly bright 'glimmer'—I came here because of you, and now you're telling me to quit. Tell me, what the hell does this sound like?"

"I don't want you to quit acting," Sophie whispered, tugging on an eyelash. Apparently she kept at that habit, and Stina suppressed the urge to tug her hand like she would in the past. "I want you to quit the revues."

Quit the revues, with its bright lights and grand stage, with its challenge to sing and dance and fight, where Stina had actually shone brighter than someone else for once, had beat Tam when he was better than her in every aspect? "If I quit now, how can I call myself an actor? How could I continue to stand on a stage knowing that I had ran from it?"

"Quit the revues, for my sake—for the sake of our promise," was all Sophie replied.

Stina stilled, because that was the first time that Sophie was referring to it. "You're so stubborn," she muttered, turning away with a huff.

Her phone rang.

SCENE 3

Tam took a deep breath, then continued on. Step, step, point of the toe, spin around, repeat again. The room was silent save for the sound of his light humming. He glided around the room with the ease that came from years and years of practice, but it wasn't enough. Never had been enough. It needed to be enough.

"So, Stina?" Someone asked, and Tam tripped over his feet.

A hand wrapped around his waist and another grabbed his hand as he was spun around, turning his embarrassing fall into a dip.

 As a stage performer, he had to be used to people being handsy with him, but most people didn't touch him when he wasn't performing. There was one person though, who had the audacity to do something like that. A person with ice blue eyes and an infuriating smirk.

"What are you doing here?" Tam asked.

"I came here to see you," Keefe replied, his eyes shining as he leaned them both lower. "So, Stina?"

When Keefe let him up, he immediately shifted so that he led, twirling Keefe and then dipping him. "It doesn't matter. I lost."

"If it doesn't matter, why are you scowling?"

Spinning and twirling, making use of the entire room as they moved, they alternated between leading and following.

"You tell me," Tam quipped. "Did you come here just to bother me?"

Keefe laughed. "About Stina? Not really. In general, yeah."

"I hate it when you do that," Tam said, setting the pace to be a little faster, a little less forgiving.

"Do what?"

"Be so casual about the revues. Find it enjoyable to disrupt my practice."

"Am I disrupting you when we're dancing here together?" Keefe asked, something indecipherable about his voice.

Step, step, rotate, push against each other. "In this case, no. But you don't do this for practice, for yourself. You just... do what you want."

"Are you still mad at me that I got one of the lead roles in Keeper of the Lost Cities instead of you?"

"No." It was a half-lie. The role of the Empath wasn't the problem, it was that he lost to Keefe. Kept losing to Keefe. But he wouldn't understand that, when he kept glowing and shining and casting most of the others into the shadows. The only two who shone brighter than him were Fitz and Biana, the Vacker siblings, and two of Keefe's best friends, so losing to them didn't matter as much to Keefe.

The worst part of it was that Keefe hardly tried. All that glow was completely natural, completely innate. Tam had the natural talent too, but it would always be frustrating to see someone hardly try and consistently do better than you. Then again, he wasn't alone in that part; seeing Dex and Marella lift their heads and glare at the Vackers. Those two could compete with the two stars; Keefe was the star that Tam wanted to outshine.

(He honestly couldn't even figure out why he was so fixated on this, why he had been fixated on this for nearly a year now. He wasn't even the hardest worker in the group, he didn't care about winning as much as some of the others did.

So why, why did this matter to him?)

"You're no fun when you won't even talk back to me," Keefe muttered.

Tam opened his mouth to reply, but then two phones rang, playing out the same ringtone, when he knew that they used different ones.

"Well, looks like we're both going down there today. You think we'll go against each other?" Keefe asked.

Tam smirked. "I hope so."

SCENE 4

"Millions of stars twinkle in the sky, Yet only few will catch your eye. I am Foxfire student, Tam Song! I'll outshine everyone!" Tam unsheathed his sword.

"What a speech, did you practice?" Keefe asked, and a spotlight flashed on him, where he was standing on a platform high up on the stage.

"The brightest, coolest stars are the ones that you see, Through song and dance will I gleam, I am Foxfire student, Keefe Sencen! I won't let you beat me, Tam!" A soft shing of a sword being unsheathed could be heard.

"You can't make fun of my speech with what you've said," Tam told him, staring up at him.

He stomped on the ground and a pillar grew from the stage, elevating him so that he was now on Keefe's level.

"Swirling and whirling the world goes round, The star shines above it all, waiting for the one to be crowned."

☆ REVUE OF CONTENTION☆

Round and round and round, they circled each other as they both sang, pillars supporting their every step. The pillars that held their previous steps would crumble into ash. Circle and circle, slowly approach each other, slowly reach the centre of the stage. When they reached the centre, a large platform formed under their feet, enough space for them to truly start their fight.

"A single bright light won't stand out much, Who'll catch the star's attention, that star is our judge."

Tam sang, charging forward, carefully tracing his feet in movements he had practiced for so long. Step, step, turn, slash. Slid the blade down Keefe's until they were no longer clashing, pretended to stagger so that Keefe would try and take the moment for himself, only for Tam to strike. Movements with the sword weren't ones that he was able to practice, but just partnering with Keefe for exercising and practicing the techniques that would be used on stage were enough for him to figure out his habits, the way he moved.

He ducked, swinging his sword in an upward arc, the aiguillette in sight, and his sword was about to cut it—

Clank! Metal clashed against metal, and Tam was shoved down.

"The two lights travel on the same wavelength, You're not the only one to know the other's weakness and strength."

Keefe slashed at him as he sang, and Tam could barely find a moment to get himself to stand up. He was edged towards the end of the platform. Keefe smirked at him, and he had the urge to really hit him. Instead, he let himself fall, let his vision of the stage catch him so he could regain his footing. He climbed up and up again, put himself back on even footing with Keefe.

"Do tell me what is it that you seek? That you would climb here to this peak?"

Swords clashed against each other again.

"Shouldn't you know the answer to your question? (I should know the answer) I thought you knew me enough to grasp my intention. (I thought I knew you enough)"

Each attack was blocked and parried, each clash louder than the previous.

"You know, I've always hated you."

Tam thought that the words had slipped from his mouth, but instead, they came from Keefe.

"I hate, I hate, I hate..."

"I mean, you already knew that. You already knew that I find you and your face irritating. You already knew it's why I come and bother you."

"You should know that I feel the same way too," Tam replied.

"I hate, I hate, I hate..."

"You act too familiar with me, you're always distracting me solely to be annoying. Beating me in this isn't enough for you to partake in the revues," Tam said. "I'm here because I want to be the 'Top Star', what about you?"

"Am I not allowed to want to be the 'Top Star' too?"

"Since when did you care about something like that? Don't tell me that it's because of me."

Their feet kept moving as they fought, a familiar pattern that the two of them had danced dozens of times.

"And what if it was?" Keefe asked, putting a surprising amount of strength into their next clash.

Tam stumbled back. "Annoying me wouldn't mean that much to you. It would mean that you don't care about winning, it would be solely about me, and Silveny would have never let down here if it were about that."

"Maybe I hate you that much. Maybe I'm here because I want you to lose, and then I can have you watch as I win. Ever think of that, Bangs Boy? It's not like you know me that well that you can say otherwise."

"I hate you," Tam said. "I hate you."

"I hate, I hate, I hate..."

He hated his infuriating, cocky personality, he hated his ice blue eyes and hair that shone like sunlight, especially under the stage, hated his annoying smirk that made his heart beat faster, hated his words and his talent that only made him want to act better.

"I hate what that bright light of yours does to me. I hate that it's only there for me to see."

Sparks flew from the force they clashed swords with. Tam could feel his heart pumping, and he had never felt so alive on the stage where the spotlights pointed at the two of them.

"I've never wanted anything in my life more, Than to shine brighter than I have before. I hate that I need you there to watch as I soar."

"What were you like before I knew you?" Tam asked him. "What were you like that me not knowing that matters?"

"Fitz used to walk a block over to my house and drag me out of bed every morning. I'd get to school and then I'd ditch as many classes as possible. I only enrolled here because Daddy Dearest was being a piece of sh*t as always and he wanted me to go into acting, but I agreed because it meant I got to live here."

"Sounds a lot like Linh and I, then," Tam commented.

"Don't say that," Keefe snapped. "I hate you, remember that. I came to this damn academy, and then I met you and you became my roommate. Next thing I knew, I was getting out of bed on my own, and I was going to class on time consistently. I could've been doing what I always did, ditch and do whatever I wanted, but for some f*cking reason, the thing I wanted to do was be with you! I hate your stupid bangs and your attitude but I keep coming back to you. I hate it. I could've spent my afternoons playing pranks on people, but instead I practice with you. I hate it."

"We'll clash swords and dance as we fight and compare, I'll shine bright for as long as you're there."

They moved closer and closer and they were right in each other's faces, then backed away for space. The platform beneath them started crumbling, but the stage  was giving them a new platform, suspended by two ropes. They fought and chased each other from one platform to the next. They ran across the stage, taking hold of the ropes and swinging over and under, revolving around each other in a way that was natural.

"I used to hate the stage," Keefe continued, "but I think I'm learning to love it."

"Because of me."

"Don't get so full of yourself, it's not only about you. You think Silveny would've let me down here if it were about that?" He echoed Tam's earlier words. "But you certainly make me want to try when I never did before."

Faster and faster they swung, and Tam realized that he was being met with the true force of Keefe's brilliance. Tam couldn't help but be in awe of this Keefe, this Keefe who never showed this to anyone in the past, and Tam was the first to witness this glow, this shine, this blinding light.

Shing!

A button flew in the air and two swords were dropped, Tam lost hold of the rope he was swinging from but was caught by an arm on the waist by Keefe, who was smiling a smile filled with unbridled glee. Tam's heart skipped a beat, and he couldn't even flee from this proximity. He was overly conscious of the fact that their legs were touching—skin to skin, because they both wore those skirts.

"You're beautiful when you're like this," he blurted breathlessly, his words slipping out before his brain could even think of them.

"I'm always beautiful," Keefe corrected, "it's part of my charm."

Tam scowled, not deigning him a response. He was right, but he didn't need that big of an ego boost.

Winning this revue was enough of one.

They finally descended to the ground, and Keefe set him down, his knees wobbling at the lack of support on his waist.

A spotlight shone down on Keefe, shining in his yellow outfit, a red jacket hanging over his shoulder. "Position Zero!" he declared, stabbing the ground with his sword. "I am Keefe Sencen!"

"Audition three! Over!" Silveny announced. "Keefe win!"

The curtains closed, hiding them from the audience's point of view.

"Well, that was intense," Keefe said. "Bangs Boy, you need a hand?"

Keefe offered his hand and Tam took it; in fact, he went several steps further and cupped Keefe's cheek with his other hand. He leaned forward.

"This isn't over, I'll beat you next time we compete."

He pulled away just enough to see irritation flash in those eyes of his. "Oh, for f*ck's sake."

And then Keefe kissed him. Tam froze in shock, then pulled him closer, closer, closer, melting into it, pouring in that still pent up passion he felt into it. One of them might have sighed into the kiss, but that was irrelevant, he was kissing Keefe.

"Some hatred this is," Keefe murmured against his lips. "You're right, this isn't over."

Tam pulled him closer again to shut him up. Again and again, until they grew more chaste, breathless.

"Of course I'm right," Tam said finally, taking amusement in the annoyed scrunch of Keefe's face. "Whatever this is—whatever we are to each other, it doesn't change that we are on the stage."

"Yeah, so don't expect me to go easy on you, Tam."

"Likewise, Keefe."

SCENE 5

Stina walked back into the elevator. The ringtone had startled her, but after seeing the icon of an alicorn spinning, she understood what that ringtone meant. She arrived in the underground theatre just in time to see the curtains close—was there another revue happening just now?—and then open again to show a blank stage.

"On this colourful stage of light and dark, I shine like a shooting star! Reborn, I am Foxfire student, Stina Heks! A dazzling night sky will be created!"

A new spotlight shone where her opponent stood.

"This stage made of hopes and dreams to pursue, Is not a place for the listless and those who don't value, Standing here, I am Foxfire student, Linh Song! I love the stage too much to lose here!"

Stina froze. "Linh?"

She almost asked 'what are you doing here?' but realized that if Tam was part of this, she should have expected that Linh would be too.

"I really like you, Stina," Linh said, idly twirling a light blue quarterstaff in her hand that matched her outfit. "I don't have anything against you, personally."

"Is this because I beat Tam yesterday?" she asked.

Linh smiled. "It'd be easy to think that it's as simple as that, wouldn't it? I'm aware of what happened yesterday, and I know why you won. Whether it was against Tam or Keefe or Biana, the result wouldn't have changed, nor would my reaction now be different."

Stina had only known her for a year, but she knew her enough to recognize the inflection of her voice when she was angry. "What do you mean?"

A loud whirring sounded from above, and Stina moved back just in time to avoid a massive downpour of water that nearly fell on her head, continuously pouring, getting her boots wet.

"We're stage performers, we give ourselves to the stage. Every joy, every sorrow, every bit of rage."

Small platforms appeared and Linh ascended them. Stina stood still, confused, until she realized that the water was rising.

"Won't this just drain off the stage and affect our—hypothetical—audience?" Stina asked.

Linh didn't reply, instead continuing what she was singing.

"I've worked hard for years to try and climb to the top, And Iwon't have it to hear that you'll stop!"

☆ REVUE OF CONVICTION ☆

Oh, Stina understood everything now. "Linh," she called out, hopping onto a platform.

"You think that I would have climbed up here for nothing, You think that in my heart I lack the yearning and loving."

Maybe she didn't love the stage as much as Linh did, but she still had the passion. She was here.

"You lack the conviction to make it through the revues."

"Then why am I here to see it through?"

"You're not here because you love the stage," Linh told her, and irritation flowed through her veins, she went for the attack. "You're here because you made a promise with Sophie."

"Is that what you think it is?"

"No," she blocked her axe with the staff, pushing it aside, nearly knocking her into the steadily rising water. Apparently it did not drain off the stage. "I'm sure that is the case. I won't stop you from quitting, I'm your friend, and I'll support you through your decision. But you threw yourself into the revues without knowing what you're getting yourself into, not because of the stage, but because Sophie's here. You saw Sophie about to lose to Tam, and you jumped in."

"Take away that special someone, and what are you left with?"

"If Sophie didn't come here, would you have just transferred yourself to the production group? Would you have given up?"

"No," Stina answered. But honestly... she wasn't entirely sure of the answer.

"Take away that promise, and what are you left with? (What am I left with?) What are you left with? (What am I left with?) What are you left with if you lack the passion to be on stage?"

"Stina Heks, are you an actor or not?"

She opened her mouth to answer the question, only to be knocked into the water. She sank and the world moved in slow motion, falling, falling, Linh's singing growing quieter.

"If you truly love the stage, then you must show it!"

The words jolted her to reality, that she was drowning. She was sinking, falling, gaining distance from the star that she needed to grasp. Did she love the stage? It started with Sophie, started with the promise, but she could have chosen to break the promise, they were both five, it wouldn't have meant much. Especially after they separated a month later.

Or she could have just not made the promise in the first place. It may had been Sophie who introduced her to theatre, but it was Stina who was in awe, it was Stina who first made the promise.

That promise was in the foreground of her mind the entire time, but Stina Heks was not a person who did things half-heartedly.

She began swimming through this water, but had to drop the axe because it was too heavy. She reached the surface, but the nearest platform was too far away.

Something nudged her hand, and she instinctively grabbed it. It was the staff that Linh used, and now Linh was using it to drag her to the platform that she was sitting on.

"Linh," she said in between breaths. "What the f*ck was that?"

She smiled sweetly. "You weren't going to drown, it was all special effects. That's how the stage works, remember? It was all just a test of your conviction. And to me, you've passed."

She ripped off the golden button that she wore, tossing it to the now-draining water.

"Position Zero," Linh said, jabbing the ground. "This is Linh Song!"

"Audition four! Over!" Silveny announced. "Linh win!"

The curtains closed.

"An—an act?" Stina asked, confused but dragging herself to lay on the platform.

"We're stage performers, are we not? We act out the roles that are necessary to play. I wanted to see how much the stage meant to you, and if it didn't mean anything, you'd continue sinking until you reached the bottom."

"So you were pretending the entire time?"

She hummed. "Not entirely. You saying you wanted to quit did make me upset, though, as I said, I would've supported you if you did choose to do so. I just wouldn't be able to bear it if you quit when you didn't want to. It was a little cathartic, if I had to be honest."

Stina took that all in. The revue yesterday was simple—just jump in there and save Sophie. This one was much more methodical and it scared the crap out of her.

"Do you think it's wrong if Sophie is my greatest motivator?" Stina asked, looking up at the ceiling that was really, really high up.

"I don't think it's wrong," Linh replied, "I think Tam and Keefe are doing the same thing. It's... complicated to explain."

"Definitely." It was more of a reminder to remember that she was not just a follower, not someone to be strung along by the promise, but that she needed to show the conviction required to grasp the star, to fulfil the promise. That was what she understood. "Will the other revues be more like this?" Stina asked. If they were, she really needed to be careful.

"Who's to say? This is my first. We all have things we're aiming for, and different ways we plan to achieve it. We have different ideals, different visions for the stage we want to create for ourselves."

"You're terrifying," Stina said, turning to look at her. "That was terrifying."

Linh smiled. "Thank you."

☆ LEADERBOARD ☆

1. — Fitz Vacker

2. — Biana Vacker

3. — Keefe Sencen

4. — Tam Song

5. — Linh Song

6. — Marella Redek

7. — Dex Dizznee

8. — Sophie Foster

9. — Stina Heks

☆                               ☆

•~•~•~•~•~•

Kotlc taglist: @keefeinnit @my-swan-song @impostertamsong @subrosasteath

Want to be added/removed from the kotlc taglist? Just let me know!

[oatmealdaydreams]

Prompt I

"But why me, exactly? I'm not... you don't like me that much."

Person B hesitates for a moment. They sigh, a little exhaustion seeps through their voice.

"Person A, I'm gonna be honest here."

"That's new-"

"Anyway. Listen, I... you don't belong here."

"No duh, idiot. I'm the wacky bastard, remember? A fun little sidekick!"

"No, that's not- look. You aren't meant to be with us. You shouldn't be with us."

Person A looks almost taken aback, wide eyes and awful gleam of hurt.

"I- what?"

"We don't want you here, okay? You don't belong with us. You're annoying, reckless, and you never seem to listen to what we say. You've almost got us killed multiple times. We can't afford to lose each other!"

Person A can only stare, bare and vulnerable.

"So yes, it has to be you. That's why it's you."

Person B turns around, ready to leave, as Person A keeps staring.

"...you don't want me?"

Person B halts, hearing the break in the other's voice. A small sniffle, and Person B's heart clenches. They knew it wouldn't be easy, of course, but... well, it's not like it's the others.

Maybe it's best that Person A is gone.

"You- you're gonna leave me?"

Person B sharply turns, rolling their eyes to fake indifference. This a decision made by the others, one they agreed to. There's no backing out now.

"For f*ck's sake, Person A! Of course, we don't want you. Yes, we're going to leave you! Stop being a baby about it and grow up. No one stays forever. You knew that when you joined the team, didn't you? You're an annoying brat! There's no use in keeping you if you insist on being so f*cking weird all the time."

"Wha- I can't just stop being like that! I struggle with things; you know I do. I told you! I told all of you! You said you'd never leave me for that. That I was safe and cared for. So, what the f*ck is this?!"

"Well, I lied."

"Of f*cking course you did. You always lie! You won't tell anyone sh*t, and then expect us to tell you everything? F*ck you! This why the team doesn't trust you!"

"Oh, yeah? Well, at least my weirdness didn't get my brother killed!"

Person A freezes, tears springing to their eyes as they pale. Person B freezes as well, knowing that's too far.

"That's not fair. I didn't mean for it to happen, I... it's not my fault. It's not my fault."

Person B simply turns and leaves, really leaves this time, as Person A cries to themself. They hear soft sobs as they leave their former sidekick behind. The team will be pleased they're gone, they remind themself. For the safety of the team. Who else is there to appease Big Bad?

Them, the team would say if Person B asked. We don't trust you. Why would we keep you? And they know it. They know how easily the team would leave them behind if they don't gain their trust.

And this was the only way to do just that.

You did great, Person B! The team will congratulate them as soon as Person B arrives back at the safehouse. They were so annoying. You did the right thing, honestly.

If this is the right thing, then why does it hurt? It feels wrong. It doesn't feel okay or right or good. Not at all, in any capacity. Person B exhales a shaky breath as they arrive behind the doors of the safehouse. Regret pools in their heart, their stomach, their entire being. A realization hits Person B just before they collect themselves and open the door.

They just left the only person who trusted them, understood them, to die by the hands of a cruel evil.

No wonder they call me a snake, they think as they put on their mask of indifference, never letting themselves close to another again.

Snake.