#i hope it's not completely incomprehensible what i've just written

[imgoingtofreakoutnow]

Baby, be still for me

Summary: Miguel accidentally bites you, paralyzing you for a while...

Pairing: Miguel o'Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, porn with no plot, overstimulation, fingering, oral (f!receiving), cockriding, p in v unprotected (always use protection guys!!!), small aftercare, Miguel!switch, reader!switch

A/n: this is definitely the filthiest thing I've ever written so I hope you all enjoy <3 (tagging @tripleyeeet because yes)

\_/

The bite had been an accident, or at least that was what Miguel told you.

Just below your jaw, so close to your jugular. You could still feel the sting, the slight pain and numbness where Miguel's fangs had dipped in your skin.

The paralyzing serum had worked quickly, more than what Miguel had anticipated. In less than a minute you found yourself completely still in bed, still breathing but unable to speak or move anything other than your eyelids.

"Do you want me to stop, nena?" Your breath quivered as he moved his hands down your waist, grabbing a handful of your thighs and pushing your legs open. "Blink once for yes," he whispered, his words accompanied by a shallow movement of his fingers along your inner thigh, "and two for no."

You blinked slowly, even your working muscles almost stuck in a haze. You hadn't opened your eyes back from the second blink that Miguel's tongue had already moved on your folds, lapping and sucking on your clit.

You tried to scream his name, but all that left your mouth were incomprehensible moans and grunts as Miguel's tongue slithered inside and out of you.

The first orgasm reached you quickly in a blurred ecstasy, followed by another one when his fingers finally entered your pussy and reached the spongy spot that his tongue didn't manage to.

Every nerve in your body screamed for more, to push your hips towards him and rock them in a symphony of movements, to grab his hair and pull his mouth on every inch of your skin they hadn't touched yet.

"¿Te gusta así, nena?"

His voice was low, a hot breath against your skin as his fingers kept pumping inside of you and his thumb circled relentlessly on your clit.

Some air left your lungs, intending to cry out a yes, but your lips still weren't collaborating. A needy and broken moan escaped your mouth, a visceral sound you didn't know was in you.

Another moan followed the first one though when Miguel stopped his motions.

"You gotta answer me, cariño." Wet fingers reached your chin up and pulled it down until you met his scarlet eyes. There was a wild rawness in them, that made your heart and core throb.

"Do you like this?" he asked again, his hands going back inside your slick folds but without ever breaking eye contact. "Yes or no?"

You blinked, your chest moving sharply up and down, and Miguel smirked devilishly.

"Muy bien," and he continued the siege of your pussy as his other hands played with your nipples.

You didn't know how long this went on, your mind was completely drunk with pleasure. Everything between your legs was red and puffy and so, so sensitive.

That's probably why you didn't even realize when your arms moved and your hands gripped Miguel's hair.

He raised his face, lips swollen and smudged with your juices, and another smirk appeared.

"Welcome back, sweetheart." He crawled towards you and kissed you — no, he ate your lips. You could taste yourself on his and somehow that set your core on fire once again.

"You treated me so well," you whispered breathless on his mouth, pulling him closer by the neck. As you did, you felt his cock resting on your belly, hard as a rock. "Now let me do something to help you."

Before he could say something or pin you against the mattress, you thrusted him on his back and sat on his erection.

Miguel opened his mouth to say something but a quiet moan was all that came out as you started grinding on it.

"I'm gonna ride your dick," you explained, the friction making you gasp for air for every word you uttered, "and you will stay there. No hands on me, nothing."

You moved from his penis and sat on his chest, wet from both your cum and his pre-cum. "Am I clear?"

Miguel nodded. "Sì, clarísima."

And as much as him speaking Spanish turned you on, you shook your head.

"Blink, love."

Another smirk pulled his lips upwards as he blinked.

"Muy bien."

When you finally guided his cock inside of you, you felt no resistance whatsoever. Your walls opened up as if they had been waiting for it and immediately sucked it in completely.

You and Miguel gasped together when his tip hit your spongy spot, and you heard him swear under his breath when your hips started thrusting.

"Joder!" he gasped as your sped up your motions, gripping his hair with one hand and the sheets with the other.

You threw your head back, your eyes closed as you simply fucked yourself into his cock. The sound of your bodies was an incoherent mix of squelching and gasping and swearing and your pussy almost hurt from all the prior overstimulation, but your mind was completely drunk on all of these sensations.

The knot inside your stomach was close to come undone, you just needed a little push, but you weren't alone in this.

You looked down on him as your hand went down to your clit and started circling it quickly.

"Gonna come for me, big boy?"

Miguel didn't wait for an answer. He pushed himself up, so that you were chest to chest and thursted into you a couple more times before he filled you up.

You followed soon after, eyes closed and limbs tired, and you let your forehead fall on Miguel's shoulder.

He kissed gently your salty skin, and you felt him smiling against it.

"What?"

"Nada," he shrugged, leaving the bed to retrieve a towel from the bathroom. "Just thinking I should bite you more often."

You chuckled, too tired to even think of a way to respond. You simply let him take care of you, as you always did.

\_/

Spanish translation:

Nena - baby

Cariño - darling

¿Te gusta así? - Do you like it like this?

Muy bien - Very good

Sì, clarísima - Yes, very clear

Joder - Fuck

[kolos013]

I've recently read a post on here about the library of babel, and I cannot seem to get it out of my head, because it is esssntially a cosmic horror of our own creation, and it fascinates me to no end.

For those that don't know, the library of babel is (or rather, was, since we made it real) a concept of a place, that has all the possible combinations of the letters of the alphabet (lower and uppercase), spaces, commas, and full stops, that fit into 400-something pages. The idea comes from some french guy, because of fucking course it does.

This is, of course, an incomprehensible amount of data. No mortal could ever hope to sort trough all of it. I imagine endless corridors and mazes with walls from floor to cieling piled with endless books, and scrolls, and scriptures, and poems, and laws, and research papers, and newspapers, and any other assorted literature. Every single text that ever has been written, or ever will be be written is, by defenition, there. Split into chapters, maybe, but there.

Every single pice of writing, string of letters EVER just so much as tought of, is present, yet you can only access it once you know exactly what you're looking for, rendering it practcally useless. It's vastness only outmatched in size by it's pointlessness. The irony is, that it's precisely its barely finite size that makes it essentially just a fun curiousity. If this is not the most eldrich horror shit that exists out there, I do not know what is. It both greatly entertains me and absolutely horrifies me to my core, this labirinth of text.

But you see, you can make a search request to the library. You can input any writing, and it will show you where exactly it can be found. This, however, is functionally useless. You can try, let's say, to find a complete version of a long lost greek epic, which we only have fragments of. You input it, and boom. 7 billion results. What you're looking for is in there. Certanly. But the rest of it? Well, the rest of it is just meaningless word salad, nay letter salad.

Thank you for reading a madman's ramblings, have a pleasant rest of the existential crisis we call life.

[thesilversun]

Five Lines Fic Meme Tagged by: @howdaretrashships Thanks for the tag!

Rules: find five lines in your fic based on the prompts you are given, then change one of the prompts at the end!

A Line You Think is Hilarious

from

Mainframe, HEX and the Temporal Trouser Error

a Torchwood/Discworld crossover where two computers talk to each other despite a difference in programming language.

It' a few lines really (and tbh pretty much all the fic - it's by far the silliest thing I've written.)

Mainframe gave the electronic equivalent of a shrug, and then sent her next message. [Please identify date of three leg trouser formation] Hopefully Hex would understand it if it was sent in terms it understood.  +++14 Grune. Year eight. Century of the Anchovy+++ Which could, Mainframe computed, mean anything from ten thousand years ago to a week last Tuesday. So she sent back [Sync calendar function?] A calendar page from the previous May appeared on screen, then across one of the days flashed the word +++Wrong Trouser Day+++

A Line About Mysteries

Time Enough and Life (Torchwood, Jack/Ianto)

By 1969 the Electro was threatened with closure. It managed a stay of execution thanks to the British Film institute scheme supporting regional arthouse cinemas, and was renamed the Cardiff Showhouse. Even so, as the 1970s wore on it struggled to turn a profit and it finally closed its doors on the 22nd of February 1977. Jack stops and reads the sentence again. Simple, factual and easy to understand it is also completely incomprehensible in relation to what Ianto has told him about it. There had been such genuine fondness and affection in Ianto's voice at the memories of Saturday mornings spent there with his father that Jack finds it incredibly unlikely that it is a lie. Yet if it's not a lie Ianto is a great deal older than he looks and had lied about his age when he joined Torchwood One. Either that or his father's idea of a nice day out was to zip back a couple of decades to see a film. All the options are preposterous, yet a quick search of the internet confirms the 1977 closure date. The only thing that’s clear is that, for whatever reason, Ianto has been lying to him, and maybe to Torchwood from the outset. The question is why?

A Line About Love

From All the Lies (Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley) (written after S1, not seen S2, so if there is an angel in S2 call Uriel it isn't this one)

Uriel watched them for a moment surprise growing on her face. "You love him." "We are meant to love," Aziraphale said, pulling the fuzzy, midnight-blue fabric around him. "More than anything that is our purpose. I cannot and will not be sorry for being as She made me." "Not you." Uriel pointed at Crowley. "That...thing. The demon. How can It do that?" "Thing. Demon. It. Well isn't that just charming. It's Crowley. Crow-Ley. Two syllables. Really not that tricky." He gave her an irritated look that somehow managed to be conveyed despite the glasses. "You know the one who helped screw up the whole end of the world thing for you." "But you shouldn't love him," Uriel persisted. "You can't." "Why not? We were all angels once," Crowley said, quieter than usual. "Falling didn't change..." He stopped, genuine raw hurt on his face. "Falling was a punishment and what better punishment for a Fallen Angel than to still feel love, but know they'll never, ever deserve it. Never." He turned away, swallowing down millennia old hurt. "Seriously I thought all you angels knew that. Just something else for you to be smug about." It felt like a punch in the gut. Had Crowley thought that about him too? The things he'd said to him...Some of them had been so thoughtless, cruel even. "Oh Crowley, my dear, you should have said something," Aziraphale said, catching his hand in his own. "Of course you're loved. I love you." Panic, fear and desperate hope, radiated from him as he looked at their clasped hands. "You....you do?"

A Line About Dreams

From Before the Dawn (Mysterious Lotus Casebook, Difanghua - a nightmare rather than a good dream, unfortunately)

There is water all around him. Ice cold and dark. It is full of hands. Some tiny, some huge. Men’s hands, women’s hands, things that may or may not be human at all. Gripping, grasping hands that pull at him, at his hair, at his clothing. Not clothing. His clothes are gone. He can’t open his eyes, but Di Feisheng can see them all the same. Nothing but hands. No heads or faces. No bodies or even limbs. Just innumerable hands, their sharp nails, talons, claws, red painted, like cinnabar, like wedding clothes. they hook into his skin, tearing it open. The water turns redder still. Like blood. Perhaps it was always blood. Either way he’s soaked in it. Drowning in it. He always has been. He struggles against the tide of clawing fingers. They swarm up his body, no part left untouched. They close around his throat, squeezing, crushing the air from him. They pry his mouth open, blood rushing in and out, they are in throat from the inside, choking him. He wants to scream, but there’s no air left in him. “A-Fei!” It’s distant. He tries to kick out, but his legs will barely respond. There are hands on his shoulders pinning down. He’s going to die. He doesn’t want to die. “A-Fei! Wake up!” It’s closer. More urgent. Familiar. The hands, which aren’t the same as the ones in his dream, shake him. Careful, rather than rough, as they pull back to wakefulness. To safety.

An Atmospheric Line

from Three months and a thousand miles of sea Mysterious Lotus Casebook, Dihua.

He turns to the wide horizons. “Li Xiangyi! Come back and face me!” Only the echo of the mountains answer, taunting and hopeless. He sits amidst the snow and shattered rock. The sun sets and the cold moon rises. Frost settles on his hair. His hands heal. Still the empty ache inside will not ease. The sun rises and he leaves. The cold of the mountains seems to have seeped into his bones, like he will never be warm again and still he aches for what could have been. What should have been.

Tagging: @yletylyf @galexibrain @cheesybadgers @killerandhealerqueen @momosandlemonsoda if you want to that is, and any one else who wants to do it even if not tagged

Prompts:

A Line You Think is Hilarious

A Line About anger

A Line About Love

A Line About Dreams

An Atmospheric Line

[sanjoongie]

Series~

į ժօղ'է աąղղą ҍҽ ąӀօղҽ ąղվʍօɾҽ

2022 Kinktober {M}

2023 Filth Fest February {M}

2023 Arousal August {M}

Wips Graveyard ~ old ideas that i've lost the motivation to write but the idea should be out there/ exposing the pretty moodboard i made and don't want it to go to waste ><

2023 Revember {M}{A}

2024 Filth Fest February{M}

Thirst Week {M}

Tipsy Drabbles {M}

Topaz's birthday bash 24 🎂 (various fics curated for my friends) {M}{A}{F}

Series

1.The Bucket List~{M}{A}{F}{TW}: Ateez, Jung Wooyoung x Choi San x Reader(f) x Kim Hongjoong ~Completed~

ღSummary: You take a summer off to check off your personal bucket list but what you don’t realize is you become a beacon of hope for three lost boys {Summer Event for Kvanity network}

ღGenre: Modern Supernatural Au, Vampire Au, Shapeshifter Au, Incubus Au

2. Twilight Academy~ {M}{A} Ateez, Park Seonghwa ~Ongoing~

ღSummary: You’re a new teacher at the Twilight Academy, bumping into a supposed teacher and sleeping with them the day before you start. Little did you know… it wasn’t simply a teacher you were sleeping with

ღGenre: Modern Fantasy au, strangers to lovers

3. Breed! {M} OT8 ~Ongoing~

ღSummary: when you and your boyfriend San are abducted by aliens for the sole purpose of said aliens learning how to breed the human way

4. Library of Illusion {M} OT8 ~Complete~

ღSummary: The loss of your love drives you to unimaginable lengths, through incomprehensible stories, just to acquire an artifact that would revive him. Will you succeed, or will you get sucked into a story, never to return? Welcome to the Library of Illusions, where nothing is as it appears to be, and yet anything is possible, as long as you play by the rules.

5. Blood Moon Series {M}{TW} Ateez, San and Wooyoung ~Ongoing~

☾Synopsis: Times are rough with one of your good friends missing, but times are even rougher when you wake up to your roommate being fed on by a vampire.

6. Fanboys {M}{crack} Ateez, Hongjoong, San and Wooyoung ~Ongoing~ note: this is a Social Media Au, but will have some written parts

❧Synopsis: As an idol, you make a fake twitter account, posing as “Mingi” and become friends with your fans

Ateez As~ 

As Fallen Angels{M}{A}{TW}{F}: ~Completed~

ღSummary: in which ateez leave heaven for you, some with a bang and others with a whimper

In Skirts{M}: ~Completed~

ღSummary: in which ateez put on skirts and what follows in nothing short of magical (and sexy)

As Rockstars {M}: ~Completed~

ღSummary: in which ateez are in a band and you just joined and… it’s a little bit more convenient to have a girl member than find a groupie…

[uroboros-if]

Update Post - Week 23, March 20th, 2023

Hi guys! Again, sorry for the MASSIVE wait, if the week number is anything to go off by! I'll give you guys a good breakdown on the numbers and stats at the moment.

As of writing, word count is 28k words w/ code, 15k without, not including text in the links. There is a LOT of code, as you can see—some paragraphs are completely incomprehensible because of it!

Average playthrough length, as of now, is 8-9k words. I pretty much just clicked through the first choices and copied them down into a document to get a word count. Prologue and Chapter 1 are pretty linear, but I've riddled them with a lot of small variations according to personality, skills, attitudes you've previously stated, and more. (Don't worry, your personality can't stop you from picking an option.)

A look into how much I need to finish. As of now, I've written 138 passages in Chapter 1 (63 in the Prologue), and my estimate is that I need to write 37 more:

All semi-transparent passages are approximately what I need to write left! Of course, this is subject to change. Hopefully I can cut down on these, but I will most likely end up adding.

Based on that, that means Chapter 1 is almost 79% completed, and overall, 85% is done!

I've been keeping track of my progress throughout, and here's March.

For reasons unknown to me, I seemed to take a month long break from February to March—at least in writing. Perhaps I was busy with the visuals of the game for that time period? It's also most likely because I had so much work at the time.

If I keep consistent, I am confident that I can get this done soon. I hope you will all keep patience! Thank you <3

Also!! Thank you so much for 1k followers, that's insane ❤️ it's surreal that there are 1k people out there who are looking forward to what I'm doing! :) I will work all the harder!

[doberbutts]

Okay so I have a question and I really hope I word it properly so if this is written incomprehensibly, let me know and I’ll try to write it better.

In regards to the recent reblog chain about titling your dogs related to their working ability and not just their conformation titles, I was curious if there are titles you would not expect certain dog breeds to have, and if they did title well in certain things would it seem like the dog is against breed standard?

For example, based on your extensive sharing of knowledge on Doberman temperament and breed ideals, would it actually be wrong for them, and other protection breeds, to have a CGC/CGCA/CGCU? Another example- would it be kind of a fault for a Doberman to achieve a high title in herding based on the actual purpose of the breed? Or is it just a testament to good training and partnership between handler and dog?

Let me know if this makes sense! It was just a curiousity that came up in my mind for the opposite end of the spectrum. Thanks for your thoughts!

This is a really interesting ask, and I wanted to give a detailed answer and not just something short I fired off while on my phone, so I wanted to wait until I had a moment on my computer with a proper keyboard to answer.

Your example- dobermans and the CGCs- is sort of complicated. I've discussed before how breed uses have changed over the years and with the current world how some things we had to let go of and focus on something else, and dobes aren't immune from that. The original temperament of the doberman was a very sharp, very aggressive dog that would bite any stranger that touched it and was not particularly safe for other people to be around, that bonded closely with their owner and refused another master, that was so good at being that type of dog they were called "devil dogs" and people went out of their way to avoid them. The AKC came up with a set of rules regarding vicious and biting dogs in the ring largely due to dobermans biting the shit out of judges during exams, and biting their handlers for being held back from biting the shit out of judges. There is a reason that until the late 90s, one of the generic "vicious aggressive dog" looks was usually a doberman. The breed reputation is very well deserved.

Let me be perfectly clear when I say: I do not think there is space in this world for this type of dog anymore. Clearly, neither did people in the 70s, and there were a lot of breeding decisions that took place to try and adjust breed temperament to what we expect of dog behavior today. Being able to allow strangers to touch them is something every dog now needs to know, because we like veterinarians and don't want our dogs removing their hands, because fully sedating a dog or drugging them into oblivion just to get a shot and a wellness is incredibly hard on their body, so we as a breed community kind of changed track.

So... do I think dobermans getting their CGCs means they don't quite have correct temperament for the breed? Really depends what you're considering correct temperament. The original temperament of the breed certainly I would say that dog could not get a CGC due to needing to accept a stranger coming up and touching them/their owner without biting, which is completely against the entire point of the breed created to bite strangers that touch them or their owners. At the same time, I think in current society a CGC proves that the doberman in question isn't a total loose cannon, which is more relevant to today's world and the priorities of today's dog laws and ethics.

Herding on the other hand some people do with their dobermans. Personally I think it's stupid but not due to being against breed temperament, more that dobermans often have a lot of terrier in them and are just as likely to bloody the sheep as they are to attempt to herd. It is true that herding breeds were used to create dobes along with mastiffs and terriers and the occasional sighthound, but herding was never the point and I think risking someone's stock due to a barely-there ancestral connection to herding is, um, not super ethical. I feel more strongly about this than I used to, just because of learning more about herding through the use of my swissy and her breeder's sheep. GSMD and dobes both branch off the butcher dog, which became rottweilers, but in very different directions, and so the more I learn about how dogs move stock the less happy I am about the few people that put their dobes on sheep.

I don't think herding titles are any proof of breeding quality because, again, the doberman was never intended to herd in the first place. Similar to how I don't think dock diving, agility, or barn hunt titles are proof of breeding quality in dobes either, because jumping into water, maneuvering around obstacles at high speeds, and killing rodents on a farm also aren't doberman-specific jobs. I would find more value in dock diving for water rescue breeds, barn hunt for terriers and other vermin-killing breeds, and agility for breeds intended to work closely with their owners in difficult terrain and high stakes/high speed settings. Again I do not think they are necessarily against correct breed temperament, in fact I think a good doberman should be able to do any of those without too much issue because they like to work with their owners in training, but I do not think they objectively show me anything about the worth of breeding that dog either.

Don't get me wrong, I also think that bitesports are also an incomplete picture- the doberman was a personal protection dog, not a sport dog. IGP, which used to be IPO, which used to be Schutzhund, is a sport developed from a breed worthiness testing program specifically for the German Shepherd during a time when Nazis took over Germany. It has very little to do with the doberman outside of being a German bitey dog thing developed during the lead-in to WWII. That is why dobes are considered an off breed in IGP, they were never actually developed to pass those standards. There are less than 50 living IGP3 dobermans in the country currently.

Ringsport, similarly, was developed primarily with malinois and dutch shepherds in mind. There are currently two MR3 dobermans in the country and the same person owns both of them- historically I believe there have been 5 and that person also owned one of the remaining 3. You'd think PSA would be more in line with what dobermans were meant for, being advertised as most similar to real personal protection street work, until you learn that there has never been a PSA3 doberman and the PSA2 doberman club is extremely limited (I believe to-date only 3 dogs have managed it, two males and one female). American Schutzhund was also developed by and for GSD people and is too new to have dobes scoring very highly yet. And this new combo PSA-dock-diving hybrid thing called Shark Bite I believe was created by malinois people.

In other words, the breed-worthiness titling system we do have was never created with the doberman in mind, being the only breed developed specifically for personal protection. I have met plenty of IGP3/IPO3 dobermans who I think have bad breed temperament. I have also met plenty that could not pass even the IGP1 that I think are more correct. BUT, I will say, it is very easy to claim your dogs are not passing because they are REAL WORKING DOGS when in reality it's because your dogs are shitters or because your training is bad, and in fact it is a crutch I see a lot of unscrupulous people in the breed rely on when asked how they can be breeding TRU WERKIN DAWGZ when they haven't titled a single one of them.

There are people who are of the opinion that high scores in these sports actually means that the dog is not quite to-standard temperament-wise, as the correct doberman is a highly defensive, sharp dog that in theory should actually struggle a bit on some of the exercises. I am not experienced enough to know if I'd go that far, but I think it is important to keep in mind that even judges will say this- I have heard judges say "technically this doberman scored higher on this exercise, however that other doberman while scoring lower had more correct temperament when considering this sport was not made for the breed's drives" in their critiques. So if what sports we do have are not quite the full picture, we cannot rely on titles or scores to tell us the full story on whether the dog is necessarily correct.

HOWEVER all of that to say, I still believe that even a low level relevant working title should be required of the breed- and all working breeds- because far too many people as said have used this as an excuse not to do it at all, and thus breed dogs who can't even pass a basic temperament test let alone put in real work. Far too many people have felt comfortable saying "well, I'm not interested in this" or "it's too hard/expensive/time consuming" or "what we have isn't currently adequate so I won't do it at all" and now breed dobermans who run at the first sight of conflict instead of, you know, showing any amount of GUARD in a GUARDIAN breed.

[danketsuround]

An overdue blog about my fic-writing process with The Immortal Son (and a little about Two Birds)

CW for brief mentions of suicide, bullying, sexual assault, childhood trauma, and emotional incest

Okay so here's some behind the scenes things about my writing process with The Immortal Son. If you read the first fic that I wrote for this AU series, Two Birds, you should know that I sat doing research for that fic for months, then I basically just blacked out and wrote it. I might eventually rewrite some of it, to be honest, so that it connects better with its prequel. But I haven't gotten there yet, and I'm too scared to get there right now.

My original thinking with Two Birds was that I wanted it to be Mitsuru-focused. I actually wanted to do it from his perspective originally, but then I realized he'd hardly know anything about his own situation, so I changed the narrator to Kuwana. This was more of a technical change than emotional. Kuwana is, and always will be for me, an unreliable narrator. But when writing from his perspective, I really wanted to show the reader how much Kuwana struggles with understanding Mitsuru - how he's in his own head too much, and how he doesn't realize exactly how unfit he is to take care of Mitsuru, and how none of that can matter, because no one else will do it. Despite his second chance - or perhaps because of it! - Kuwana is selfish and resented.

I did manage to unearth some of my notes while writing Two Birds. While a lot has changed, the general basis for Kuwana and Mitsuru has always been what I originally wrote as a note to myself, here:

I focused a lot on Mitsuru's physicality. It ended up being that most of my time for this fic was spent doing research about long comas. While that was all fine and good, a lot of what I researched ended up not even being used or mentioned. Both Two Birds and The Immortal Son are focused on emotion - more than realism or accuracy. In fact, a decent amount of the "lore" in either fic is completely made up, and whatever I make up is written somewhere to reference later. Then, I just write it whenever it feels relevant to the narrative, and hope I'm not writing myself into an incomprehensible hole - because, while a lot of it is based on inference, some of it isn't. I wanted to write as if what I had made up was obvious, so I had to try and get out of my own head while reading it over. That was hard.

Anyways, here's some Google Maps screenshots I had taken for Two Birds to reference in my fic. This was back when I wanted them to live in Matsuyama, Ehime - not Masaki - but the "visual" "idea" is the same. When I was drafting Two Birds, Reiko was in a fake prison on an island. I had this vision of them taking a boat to go and see her, but I scrapped it - mostly because I felt like Reiko would not go to a maximum security prison like that. I mean come on, she's not Saejima. She only killed one person, geez!

I liked the mix of rice fields and the view of the sea. I've never been to Masaki. I've never even been to the Kyushu area. If I had to do it all over again, I'd put them in Fukushima. The descriptive visuals about Masaki in Two Birds are actually inspired by where I live.

Of course, Two Birds ended up not really being Mitsuru-focused at all, and that's when I decided to write The Immortal Son. Even though Kuwana is still the narrator, he is sort of a backseat driver to a near-fatal car crash he caused by grabbing the driver's wheel... uh, so to speak. He just watches everything happen. It's not until Two Birds that he feels fit to play his role.

"Two Birds" was the working title for what ended up actually being Two Birds because I didn't have any other ideas. I had written the scene where Kuwana remembers when he first moved to Masaki, and so I just pulled "two birds" from that actual paragraph. I did this before once with a porno I mean sickfic I wrote - calling it "Toothpaste" when toothpaste was never actually involved at all. A while ago I had this habit of throwing darts at one-shots I wrote and titling it whatever word I landed on. For the same reason, when I had drafted the first interaction between Kuwana and Jiro; I titled it "Orange Chicken".

I can't help but love a surprise title drop.

But the title for The Immortal Son just flew into my head, and suddenly it felt really corny to title drop. I debated on calling it "The Immortal Sun" because it takes place in the summer and Kuwana can feeeeeel the heat on his back (metaphorically) but since it ended up being entirely about Mitsuru, the immortal son, I changed it.

The Immortal Son is written to play out pretty soon after the events of Lost Judgement. While Kusumoto Reiko is in her holding cell, she tells Kuwana to keep an eye on Mitsuru. From there, Kuwana meets Mitsuru's father (Jiro, also Reiko's ex-husband) and uncovers a few secrets about her past. For reasons (then) unknown to Kuwana, Reiko confesses to killing Kawai on her own - leading him to take care of Mitsuru and attempt to eliminate her hospital debt.

I gave Kuwana a fading flashback when he went to visit Reiko in prison for the first time. It later informs Kuwana's decision to point fingers at Reiko when her lawyer discovers a flaw in her confession. This isn't necessarily right or wrong of him, but Kuwana's own memory of her in prison forces him to believe she wants to be punished - that they are alike in the desire to atone.

I thought a lot about Reiko in The Immortal Son. My first impression of her when playing Lost Judgement was actually a bit sad. That introduction scene where she is sitting in Mitsuru's dark, wide, and empty hospital room by herself - and knowing she had done the same thing every day for the past thirteen years - seemed really lonely, so I drew bits and pieces of her and Mitsuru's relationship from that.

There were two themes - "preservation" and "violence".

A long time ago, I made a connection between Kawai's frozen body and Mitsuru's "frozen" body - I still can't explain it well enough to make sense.

In Lost Judgement, Kuwana says they killed Kawai on the anniversary of Mitsuru's suicide attempt. Later, he describes Mitsuru as a vegetable that is "as good as dead." So, my best way to explain it is that time stopped for both of them. Kawai is literally frozen from the moment his heart stopped beating, and Mitsuru doesn't change at all in thirteen years. That's where "preservation" came to mind, and how it intertwined with the violence of the original story.

Because Mitsuru is preserved, his pain is preserved as well. The characters see this through the long-term effects of his trauma and suicide attempt on his body, and how Mitsuru eventually grows into himself. But his mind and body are childish, because that's where he stopped at. A dead child never grows into adulthood.

There is an instance when Kuwana and Jiro come into his hospital room, and I mention Mitsuru being "gelded" by both his mother and the natural process of time.

Can I sound crazy for a second? The reason why wrote that line was because I was kinda thinking of Mitsuru as a castrato, like, a choir boy who is castrated in order to preserve his voice, and grows sort of strangely or unnaturally as a result? That's what Mitsuru looks like to me. A small version of that - a thirty year old who still looks seventeen but not quite. Like a less jarring version of Ben Platt in Dear Evan Hanson, lol.

Anyways, I thought Mitsuru's preservation would be an act of violence, too, because Reiko (both in order to protect Mitsuru and her own feelings) wants to turn back time and keep Mitsuru as a helpless child. In Two Birds, she tells Kuwana that she used to pretend Mitsuru had turned invisible as a child, and that she wished he'd cry in her lap again. In The Immortal Son, even Jiro eventually relents to this as well, telling Kuwana that he wished Mitsuru could be the way he used to.

The violence of preservation, in this case, is Reiko's severe attachment to Mitsuru. In his childhood, it made him understand her in ways he should not have - as stated by Jiro. I thought that there had to be other factors in Mitsuru's suicide, and this is what I came up with. That Reiko was too pressing - Mitsuru, too darling - and that he was his father's emotional replacement.

Yeah, so what if I made up the thing about Reiko's enmeshment with Mitsuru? It was always lingering in the back of my mind anyways. Enmeshment is better known as "emotional incest" - I hate that word, even though that's about as accurate as wording gets. The sad and lonely image of a woman overly dedicated to her son; how could I not?

Mitsuru is not only surrouuuuuunded by violence, but he's also - tragically - a tool for it, right? Kawai is killed out of revenge, and seven other people die because of Kuwana's quest for vigilantism in his name - mentioning Mitsuru ahead of everyone else he sought vengeance for. Mitsuru is hardly able to protect himself; he can only watch what happens to him. I wanted to make a connection between this and what Jiro said Reiko did to him - that Mitsuru is singled out and violated by devotion.

When Kuwana takes him on a stroll away from his father, Mitsuru kills a cicada.

I used the word "beheaded" here - not crushed or squashed - to evoke a "feeling of execution". It's Kuwana who runs Mitsuru over that cicada, and it's Kuwana who used Mitsuru to justify violence. So, I wanted to point out that Mitsuru is welded passively in Kuwana's instigation of violence.

Mitsuru, too, has to witness the way everyone talks about his mother, and what she had done for his sake. In that, he searches for her kindness - not wanting to remember how sore her arms felt in her constricting motherhood.

But he is denied by reality. And that reality comes in the form of his father - albeit, definitely not the most objective person in all of this.

Jiro is a character I made for the sake of The Immortal Son, but he's mentioned very briefly as "Mr. Kusumoto" in Two Birds.

There are three original characters I wrote for The Immortal Son: Jiro Kusumoto (Reiko's ex-husband), Kondo Daichi (Reiko's celebrity lawyer) and Naganuma Mimori (Mitsuru's young nurse). I hadn't really mapped out their personalities, they sort of just came and went as I wrote. But I think it's safe to say Jiro was definitely Mitsuru's co-star in this.

Kondo Daichi (or Daiichi, 第一, a pun meaning "number one") was originally meant to be a timid lawyer appointed by the court, but then he sort of turned into an audience self-insert. I thought a lot about the logistics of Kuwana taking care of Mitsuru, and Reiko taking the sole blame for Kawai's murder, and I wondered what that meant Kuwana's response would be. The result was Kondo - a character meant to fully confront Kuwana with the reality of his situation, and his decision to take care of Mitsuru. I wanted to show that, when given the opportunity to confess and face the consequences, Kuwana would cowardly turn away.

Naganuma Mimori is a bit like Mitsuru. Because of that, Jiro also views her as something to compete with Kuwana. Kuwana is kind to her but he sees her as a child. More importantly, though, I used Naganuma as a mark for gender. Kuwana tells Jiro he doesn't have children, and Jiro asks if he'd prefer a girl. Later, when childish Naganuma cries on Kuwana's shoulder, Jiro jokes that he probably couldn't handle a little girl.

Compared with Naganuma, I thought that Kuwana might feel emasculated by his inadequacy to take care of Mitsuru properly. Even so, for my own reasons, I wanted Kuwana to seem girlish in The Immortal Son. I just feel like he's a bit feminine anyways. I wanted him to be treated and scolded the way an inadequate or indecent woman would be. All of that scolding comes from Jiro, who respects him otherwise.

I thought the easy way out would be to make Jiro abusive and mean-spirited and probably an alcoholic. Honestly, the first time I wrote him (which was even before I started thinking about The Immortal Son!) he was sort of... that. But then I realized that's a little boring. Sure, I wanted Jiro to be a little mean, but I mostly just wanted him to be frustrated and honest. I wanted him to be someone who thinks he's only ever done his best. In that way, I wanted him to be someone like Kuwana.

Jiro cannot see himself in Mitsuru, and he blames it on Reiko's influence and enmeshment towards him. At this point - while feeling vindicated - he is mostly just sad. Sad because he was never there for Mitsuru, and sad that he still can't be. He can't stand being around his own son, and that's why he's able to relinquish him to Kuwana's care. Ironically, Kuwana can see much of Jiro in Mitsuru, only because Jiro refuses to see weakness in himself.

I never wanted Two Birds to end on a sad note, though I guess The Immortal Son ended up seeming that way. Or, at least there is some recognition that Mitsuru will never be able to return to himself. Kuwana, of course, can see this because he's the same way. It's not such a bad thing, I think, which is why I sort of hesitate to call it sad - because in my head I know that The Immortal Son is more like "the foundation of trauma" and Two Birds is like "a layer of hope".

That's what my goal was, at least.

Basically, all of this meaty symbolism came from the type of story I wanted to write, which is ultimately about love and normal people in the real world with a hard past. I wanted to expand on Mitsuru and Reiko a lot simply because I liked them. So that's what I did.

Both Two Birds and The Immortal Son came from a long road of dissatisfaction with the original story. I mostly wanted more from the Kusumotos. I thought Kuwana's dedication to them was interesting, too, and I wondered what Kuwana would do with himself after his purpose in life was bested. "What if Kuwana suddenly became very lucky?" - I asked myself, and this came.

I don't think any of these characters should suffer, and I don't think it's necessary for Kuwana to suffer in order to understand the pain he's caused. In fact, it's through love that Kuwana can feel the value of his own miserable life. Mitsuru's situation is sad, Kuwana and Reiko's life is sad - but the story really isn't. Mitsuru is immortalized by pain, and violence, and suffering - but he can live happily through it. Even if he can't be free of it, he lives a kind and honest life. Surely, there are themes of terror and trauma interwoven in both Two Birds and The Immortal Son. I talked about "preservation" and "violence" earlier, but I also felt like it was necessary to touch on normal things, like family, disability and gender. There's no real "point" I wanted to hit with these fics, I just wanted to tell that kind of story.

I'll add in a later reblog some ideas I was floating around while writing both of these. There are tons of scrapped ideas and artifacts from the time between Two Birds and The Immortal Son, including one fic about Reiko's family, and another about Kawai's funeral. I'm going to go find those things now and report back. Later, eventually.

Thanks for reading!

[house-of-mirrors]

 I know this is kind of a weird ask to get, rest assured I would not be sending it to you if I had found it another way but even after the Smending information ban was lifted, I still cannot find this information, and I saw that you completed seeking so I figured I would ask you.

What is traveler returning? Or more specifically, what does it mean, what is it about? I have deciphered the other endings frustratingly ambiguous writing style, but I still cannot understand traveler returning. What does it mean? 

Let me tell you a secret, my friend: I don't think anyone, myself included, has a flying clue wtf the "who is salt" ending of smen MEANS. It has very little connection to going East in ssea or with Irem in FL. It's its own thing (derogatory).

I remember reading a blogpost where AK said he didn't think anyone would actually pick that ending and so threw that together and I guess that's why it's drivel? What did I call it again? Making fridge magnet poetry behind your back in the dark? Yeah

I've seen one interpretation that it's meant to break the fourth wall and imply the player has secretly been Salt all along. And honestly? I personally like that less than it being nonsense (no hate if u like that theory). I don't like meta reveals like that when there's no foreshadowing. Feels like a cop out. And also... why does the player have to be an otherworldly being to be special? Who is Salt? Well it certainly isn't me!

That theory aside, doing a strict reading of the text and ignoring meta stuff, interpreting its meaning as precisely what it says... it means all of nothing.

I did the Hate ending and thought that was the most interesting of the 3. Grieve, sure, fine. Who is Salt? [long fax machine noises]

(I gotta tell you I laughed SO HARD getting this because I'm always joking with my friend about "who is salt" being incomprehensible XD)

Disclaimer this is just my opinion etc, but as someone pursuing an MFA in writing with a good bit of experience in editing: this would NOT fly if it came across my desk. Even if your story is meant to be punishing and has "no good things at the end," I feel like you still have an obligation to have a narratively satisfying conclusion.

In summary: you can't figure it out because there's nothing to figure out, pat yourself on the back and treat yourself to your favorite snack and/or beverage

Ignoring the ending and going off lore, "Traveller Returning" means... (major spoilers for sunless sea under the cut)

Traveller Returning is an epithet for one of the zee-gods, Salt. Salt, god of farewells, of travellers, of the Uttermost East. The Hungry Monarch. There's a hidden ambition revolving around it in Sunless Sea. In summary, Salt was an emissary sent by the White to the Neath to find out what sort of Shames and various crimes the Sun was keeping hidden. Salt has not yet returned with its report, instead disappearing into the East. Now, the Sunless Sea quest actually follows a narrative of the player becoming an avatar for Salt and this makes a lot more sense in its execution than the smending. The Eastern horizon is called the "Deconstruction," a sort of endless horizon in Green and Gold where the laws of space and time get really weird. Imagine a function undefined at a single point, or a tangent line that goes to infinity. I'm not sure how to explain it beyond here because I don't have a firm grasp on it myself; there's not a lot of solid info.

We still know painfully little about Salt and I really, really hope the lore declassification means we'll get more material soon. Well-written material. What's up with Salt, what about the White, what about the Woods in Winter, what is the nature of the Old Man in Vienna, etc.

[thelazyecrivain]

Fluffbruary - Day 24 (Art)

Day twenty-four of @fluffbruary, using the prompt "art"

This is a sequel to His artwork written for the first day of fluffbruary!

Read on AO3

French Version

---

John enters the shop and is greeted by soft music, paintings of all styles hanging and posed everywhere. Two young people were talking behind the counter, stopping their conversation when they noticed him. The young woman stepped aside to let the young man do his work. 

"Hello, how can I help you?" 

"John Watson, I had made an appointment."

The young man searched his notebook in front of him before he came across his name and the time he had booked.

"It's for a portrait."

It wasn't a question but John nodded.

"It'll be with Nell." He explains, pointing to the person he was just talking to. Nell held out her hand and John shook it. 

"Hello, John. May I call you John?" Nell asked. She knows how to put people at ease, her easy smile and casual posture. Used to professional relationships, John struggled to answer her question but managed to return her friendly smile and answer. "Very good, John. I'm Nell, I'll be the artist who does your portrait." She said before accompanying him to a room at the back. The room is large, paintings but also decorations everywhere, the white floor mottled with paint, a blank canvas placed on an easel, and a seat in the middle of the room. "Before we begin, I would like to point out that I use the pronouns they and them. I would ask you to respect it. And what are yours?"

John looked at her, blinking, completely lost. The young wom-  person? understood his lack of understanding.

"Do you use she/her, he/him, they/them, or some other pronouns?"

John understood. "He. I use he/him." It's not every day he gets asked this kind of thing. John feels old in front of these young people and their new things. He's probably only ten years older than they are, but it feels so big now.

Nell smiles, "Great. I have a few more questions for you before we start." John wonders what their questions are, and they smile as they see the panic on his face. "Nothing incomprehensible, I promise." They laughed. "I just want to know why you want to do this portrait, in what context. If as a gift, to whom and why. If you have an idea of what you want to do, if you have a particular request. Something I absolutely must put in the painting. Tell me and I'll tell you if I can make it happen."

"Oh, um. It's for an anniversary. I've been with my... boyfriend for two years." He hesitated. It seemed so childish to say boyfriend. "My partner." They nodded. "We met in a museum, and I've been telling him ever since that he's my work of art." He said, blushing. Nell smiled tenderly. "So for our one year anniversary he gave me a painting of his. Our two-year anniversary is in a fortnight and I'd like to do the same."

"That's lovely, it's rare to get a gift like that."

John shrugs. "He kind of made it clear to me that's what he wanted."

"John Watson, you are the most beautiful piece of art."

"As I understand it, I have to have my portrait done for next year." 

"I hoped so." 

John smiled at the memory. 

"Do you have an idea, a wish for your portrait?" Nell asks, cutting him off in his reverie.

"Not really. I don't know much about art, I trust you."

Iel nods, then runs their eyes over the various settings, a look of concentration on their face. "Here's what I propose. A single background, no scenery. Just you on the painting. I'd like it to look like it was a spur of the moment shot, no posing. Nothing superficial."

John found it hard to imagine. He doesn't have a visual memory. Fortunately, Nell knows how to help him understand. They pull him to the middle of the room, in front of the easel, and sit him on a stool. They put him in profile, turning his face to the blank canvas and asking him to look away, not at a fixed point. He tries to follow their instructions and this seems to convince Nell as they nod, satisfied, and take out their phone to take a picture.

They showed him the picture and in the picture he looked serene, looking at something in the distance. It looks natural. John agreed wholeheartedly.

They set him up properly, told him to keep his coat on so that it would look like the picture was taken outside, and also to make his face stand out more easily with the dark colour of the clothing. Nell even had the idea of setting up a light above him to give a shiny effect on his blond hair.

"For the style of the painting, you asked for something realistic. What I'm proposing is that we keep this style, but that we can still see that it's a painting, that the brushstrokes look soft to the eye, almost smooth." Nell explains while showing him another painting in the same style.

John agrees, trusting them completely with this kind of choice. They are the professionals, not him. Nell told him that if he needed a break, to eat or drink, or if he started to cramp, he should not hesitate to ask, and they started to paint.

They talked from time to time, the other man - named Marvis - sometimes coming to see them, bringing things to Nell or John, talking to the doctor to distract him and make the time pass more quickly. He told them about his meeting with Sherlock, and they both gave an "awwww" in unison when he told them about the gift he had received the year before, showing a picture of the painting. He put it as a wallpaper, saving him the trouble of carrying the painting with him always

After five hours of painting, John is finally able to move, Nell promising to finish the details within a week and that it will be ready for their anniversary. John thanks them warmly and goes home, eager to give it to Sherlock.

***

"Sherlock?" Calls John as he walks into the flat. He's just spent eight hours nursing colds and coughs and all he wants is to spend the evening with his detective and celebrate their two years together.

"In the kitchen!"

John smiles, smelling the good aroma coming from the kitchen. He walks in to find the table set like a five-star restaurant, Sherlock at the stove with an apron around his waist, protecting his aubergine shirt. John's favourite.

John comes up behind Sherlock, wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his head against his shoulder. 

"Did you have a good day?"

John mumbled a reply, letting himself be rocked by the movements of his shoulder. Sherlock turned in his arms to face him.

"I was looking forward to going home." He said as he slid between Sherlock's legs to press himself against him. They were almost the same size this way. "But I didn't expect to find this," he gestured to the table and the small plates Sherlock had lovingly prepared, "and to see you in an apron. I think it suits you very well. It hugs your waist." He said suggestively, sliding his hands against the fabric to support his words. 

Sherlock smiles, "Should I keep it?" Sherlock teases. He knows John likes his shirt

" Certainly not, we can't see your shirt!" He slides his hands down his back, finding the knot and removing it. He keeps his eyes in Sherlock's, biting his bottom lip to stop himself from smiling. He can see Sherlock's eyes shining with mischief, letting him. 

No sooner does the knot come undone than Sherlock removes the apron and tosses it haphazardly behind John. John laughed as lips cut him off. John tightened his grip behind his back, hands encircling his face. Slowly they kissed and when John wanted to deepen the kiss, Sherlock pulled away. John wanted to wipe the grin from his lips.

"Later." Sherlock promised with a wink before pulling away from him. "You have to taste what I've done. I didn't spend three hours cooking for it to end up in tupperware at the bottom of the fridge."

John shook his head, unable to stop his smile from forming. He settled down and together they enjoyed the food.

It was after dessert that John stopped Sherlock with a hand on his arm when he wanted to start clearing away.

"I have a surprise for you." 

(continue after the cut)

Sherlock said nothing and watched him go off to his old room to get the gift. He widens his eyes when he comes back down with it, John having no doubt that he's already deduced what he's getting him. It's pretty obvious, and John isn't even disappointed that he's figured it out before he's even unwrapped it. 

"Did you really do it?" Sherlock breathes. He stands up, walking over to him.

John nods his head. "It took me a while to find an artist with a style I liked."

Sherlock says nothing and begins to unpack it without further ado. Two weeks after posing for Nell, John came to pick it up and didn't hide his amazement at the work the artist had added after their meeting. Sherlock shared this wonderment when he saw the painting.

John is depicted as they had discussed with Nell, a black background, all in a realistic style while showing that it is a painting. Exactly as they had concluded.

Sherlock stares at it for about thirty seconds, before balancing the painting against a chair and thanking John appropriately.

"It's beautiful." He sighs between kisses. "You're beautiful."

John can feel his cheeks turning pink. He slowly pulls him towards the bedroom and Sherlock gets the message.

"The table..."

"Tomorrow." John growled.

Sherlock didn't need to be told again and pushed John convincingly towards the bedroom when he abruptly cut off their kiss. It took John a while to regain his composure and he wanted to grab Sherlock to keep him against him as he left.

Sherlock took the painting, and brought it with him to the room. John understood what he wanted to do. He watched him set up the painting next to his own with a tender smile. When it was finished, Sherlock returned to his side, his arms around his waist, his head resting on his shoulder. 

"What are we doing next year?" John asks, trying to keep control of his body as Sherlock begins to kiss him on the neck.

"We could do a painting of the two of us." Says Sherlock in the crook of his ear, making John shudder. "Or..."

Sherlock didn't finish his sentence, and John, curious as to what he meant, turned in his arms, attacking his neck in turn. "Or?"

"What do you say we get out your military uniform again?" 

John steps away from him, seeing that Sherlock is serious. He flashes his most seductive smile. "It'll be your wedding present."

"We should get married soon, then. I can't wait to get my present."

John laughed and regained possession of his lips, both falling onto the bed as Sherlock hit the bed

"In return, I want a painting of you only with your dressing gown. Nothing else."

"Deal."

(tell me if you wish to be tagged !) @topsyturvy-turtely @missdeliadili @mxster-jocale

[angelfoodcake222]

💌 💛 Xanthophilia 💛 💌

Xanthophilia: the love of the color yellow.

Gif by @bee-stim

Tw[Trigger warning]: you goofed, bad/decent poetry, fluff, scopophobia, (possible) head injury, simp stuff. Enjoy.

🌕The story starts with a 3rd person's view peering past the window leading into a puppet's (most likely Y/N's) office as they frantically &/or cartoonishly searches for the note they thought they had put away to revise it into a less sappy, mawkish, schmaltzy confession of their feelings for the star of the show in favor of writing as more of a note to show their appreciation for his appearance in the shows, offering to design his next suit to fit his seemingly snazzy essence. Maybe something in a fetchingly robust red?

🌕Wally gets a note [accidentally] sent by his semi-new neighbor, Y/N the stylist/seamstress, after it gets mixed up with other things in their messy home office.

🌕When he opens the pristine red heart stamped, white envelope he finds something to the effects of a love letter complete with a lightly perfumed (not intentionally, just cast off from when you were getting dressed near your desk & the episode you were written into called for you & Wally to be near each other)piece of salmon pink paper filled with rich blue ink scribbles that open with "To My Most Darling, Fabulous Neighbor," before he stood stock still beside his open window to read on. His unblinking eyes read this (or something like it):

I cannot help but swoon when I see you wearing any one of my designs. It makes my little heart throng when I see you happily going about your life with the clothes I tailored for you & how your honeybee fleece makes it look as though you were the sun himself put into a tangible form. An incarnation of bright, beautifully blue-topped chef-d'oeuvre Pablo Picasso, Peter D. Jaquish, or even Leonardo da Vince could so much as dream of bringing to spontaneous life. Andy Warhol hasn't a prayer in recreating the honorific hues you iconically carry with your pools of opalescent snowfall glistening like freshly fallen snow with a pair of priceless black pearls that bring an incomprehensible level of depths to them.

If your lulling voice & genteel demeanor were not enough, your eyes draw me further & deeper into these profound feelings I've been pushing down for countless convoluted reasons that I cannot put into words. I hope to make a garb that finally brings worthy wearability to your form & its near-otherworldly resplendence. Possibly make you a line of Red Deliciousness & Pink Ladies for myself, if it's not too much, of course. Maybe swap makeup & hair tips or you could show me how you do such majestic work in such brief windows before the cameras come on.

With love & awaiting skill, Y/N.

🌕Wally is stuck in place, rereading the besotted epistolary in his hands as the words take him some time to grasp. He even asked home to pass him the dictionary from the top of his bookshelf to translate many of the words just to boil it down to its writer being, for lack of better words, "wally, wally, blood & dolly" for him.

🌕He sat in his plush chair, rereading the confession with a new understanding of what Y/N had composed, now transcribed to his understanding.

🌕He barely heard the frantic knocking upon Home's door & Home rocking his chair to snap him out of the hypnosis.

🌕When he does pull through & opens the door, there stood Barnaby with an excited yet curious look on his face.

🌕While Barnaby was getting a hot dog from Howdy with Eddie & Frank picking out ingredients for something related to jelly, Y/N skids in & make a B-line for Eddie, asking if he had delivered any mail from their house to Home that day.

🌕Eddie checks his notes & confirms their hectic question, noting the "very pretty thing holding it shut so nicely" that he could not bear to stuff it into his bag, therefore packing it mindfully in hand to Wally's dwelling.

🌕Y/N's face turns a few shades darker before they fall back into the apple display & causing everyone concern, especially Julie & Poppy who had just walked in not even a split second before it happened.

🌕Barnaby ran to Home, grabbed Wally & brought him to Howdy's where everyone else gathered to check on their friend laying amongst the ripe red fruit scattered about, especially Poppy who told everyone to step back & give the stylist/tailor some room while she tended to them.

🌕He thought back to the letter he had tucked into his cardigan pocket instinctively while Barnaby dashed him to the store & reflected on the decadent words you utilized in writing such a thing. This was followed by him piecing together what had happened.

🌕He, Poppy & Barnaby helped Y/N back to their home & tucked them into bed.

🌕Barnaby & Poppy went all about their neighbor's home looking for things to ease their probable headache after their fall while Wally sits at the same-sized puppet's bedside, quietly watching them rest their lovely, lettered mind. Unable to push that poem from his mind.

🌕While Poppy tended to Y/N's head & Barnaby grabbed some additional pillows from their closet, Wally continued to watch you (a character trait the two bigger puppets were used to, so they didn't notice it.

💛He had never fallen so hard before & he doubts he ever will for anyone else ever again.

[coffeebanana]

hi Kayla, with so many WIPs, I was wondering if you have an outlining process, or what parts of a story do you establish in advance? or do you just get a premise, run with it, and hope for the best? what's your process? 👀

*sobs in too many WIPs*

ahaha just kidding i'm FIIIIIIIIINE!!! Lol. So, yeah, I typically have an outline for anything longer than a oneshot--and often even for oneshots if it's anything more than a single scene. for longer fics, i used to sort of only outline the beginning third or half before i started writing--i'd have a vague idea of how i wanted it to end and/or of some other scenes i wanted to include, but wouldn't fill in all the details until i'd written a few chapters. lately though i've been completely outlining projects before i start writing. i guess i just find myself wanting a clearer picture of where i'm heading? or maybe i'm procrastinating the actual writing part, who knows! usually as i move through the fic i'll expand on the outline for the next 1-3 chapters i'm working on, since in writing i'll have learned new things i need to work in/emphasize/change/etc... expanding is more of like...a beat by beat view of the scene i guess? and often it involves reordering things from the initial outline.

tbh, i think my outlines are incomprehensible to anybody but me. like...some of it's dialogue, some of it's vibes, and some of it's things that need to happen or emotions to consider--and usually that's all smushed together in a paragraph. but i pretty much always remember what i meant when i go back to it later, so i guess the chaotic system is working 😂 for funsies, here's an example from my post-s5 ladrien WIP:

thanks for the ask, mia!! 💜

[perexcri]

Fannon is here to scream:D

Congrats on getting through 2 Life things!! Life is Very difficult so tbh you are awesome for completing them whatever they are! (Looks over at my lack of doing anything substantial …) anyway!! Pretty picture btw!!

This chapter was so lovely!!! The way they’re basically having tiny dates without saying or acknowledging they’re dates (the Rose!!!! William you Romantic!!!) djfiidkdiwieidj

I am so interested to learn about this version of Mike!!

(The fact that they’re both healing each other a little bit by interacting I’m 😭)

I see that Drama is starting soon:O a little miscommunication trope? (Does…does Mike not know it’s Will?) I am Going to Cry if either of them Cry:))))

Anyway I would literally read any fic you put out ever. You’re my Most favorite Byler author and tbh fic author in general😊

fannon i saw your message last night and was almost crying. i just want you to know it means a lot to me that you're enjoying my writing!! you're very sweet and it is much appreciated 💜and your favorite byler author?? 🥺🥺🥺 again, this means a lot to me because there are so many wonderful authors writing for this ship, so the fact that i'm anybody's favorite it almost incomprehensible to me T_T

ahhh and thanks for the congrats!! i had to drag myself kicking and screaming through both of them, but at least they're done!! i am sending whatever temporary spirit of productivity hit me your way in the hopes that you can get done what you need to get done :D you can do itttt!!

yesss they really are just little dates. it's just them being cute together, which was so nice to write - and i'm glad you picked up on the fact that the connection they're making is helping them both out!! a lot of the inspiration for this fic was the song it's based on (the truth untold), but also the idea that we need others and community to survive. Will's been isolated for so long, but he's finally starting to open up again, and it's making him a better person

hmmmm yes i can promise you that more will be revealed about Mike, and there is trouble on the horizon (isn't there always with these two? lol). i hope you like how it turns out :D

again, thank you so much for stopping by and leaving such a kind message T_T i genuinely don't have the words to describe how much it means to me, especially with this fic, because i've had such a hard time getting the rest of it written and posted. so, yes, thank you for all the lovely support, and hopefully i'll be seeing you with the next update!! I hope all is well with you :] 💜

[sunshine-vx]

Across Space, Time and Dreams (ASTaD) (Ch. 18)

(Blankshippers DNI)

(Please refer to beginning of chapter 1 post for complete list of CWs/TWs)

(Extra notes: Woo, a new chapter out already! Glad I could get another chapter out sooner than later like I said! :] That being said, though, I'm gonna let yall know that, unfortunately, the next chapter will probably take a while to be posted. I've already gotten it written, but basically ever since the idea for that chapter came into my head, I've told myself I'd make an animation for it. It's going to be about 1 minute and 10 seconds long, and if I get help, it will only be from one person. I'm out for summer break, so hopefully I'll be able to get it done faster, but I can't promise it will be as fast as I'd hope. I hope yall can understand, and I sincerely hope that whatever the result is will be worth it! I've been challenging myself with this fic ever since I started it, and I'm glad to tackle a new challenge! That aside, I hope yall enjoy! This one's a bit shorter compared to the previous two, hahah.)

(This chapter's illustrations done by @moonlightalpha666 !)

(Read it on Ao3 here! (Not yet uploaded to Ao3, link will be here when it is!))

(Reblogs are appreciated!)

-

Emmet woke up before Ingo did. That was expected, although it made Emmet happy, as well as slightly amused him, that Ingo's sleeping habits seemed to not change much, even in a place like this. Emmet got up to look at the old-fashioned clock on the windowsill- The time read 7:30 AM; An hour and a half to prepare and get to the Temple.

Emmet went back over to the pallet and sat down by his brother, shaking him gently by the shoulders a few times.

"Ingo. Ingo, come on." Emmet stated, "It is time to get up."

After a few shakes, Ingo mumbled something incomprehensible before his eyes opened. "Huh..? Emmet..?"

"Ingo, brother, it is three-thirty in the morning." Emmet explained, "We must be at the Temple of Sinnoh around nine so that I can summon Dialga and Palkia."

Ingo was silent for a moment, seeming delirious, before he jumped and his eyes opened wide.

"Oh, right!" Ingo exclaimed, quickly, standing up, followed by Emmet, "Yes, let us begin preparing at once!"

Now that they were both awake, the twins quickly got dressed into their uniforms, beginning the gather what they needed for the trip and a possible trip to their origin world after that. 

"Ingo. Dialga and Palkia may bring us home, so make sure not to forget anything you will need." Emmet stated, putting his Pokéballs into his coat.

Ingo was also gathering his Pokéballs into his coat as well, "Regarding items, I have everything; I just need to bid my farewells to those I feel it's necessary to do so, first."

Emmet nodded, "Yup. Of course."

Emmet and Ingo exited the house, Ingo spotting Zisu making her way for the village's gates. Ingo jogged up to her, Emmet following suit.

"Lady Zisu! Are you headed for the Temple of Sinnoh?" Ingo questioned, "Do you know where Akari and Rei are? They told us they'd be waiting at the village gates for us."

Zisu nodded, carrying a bag with one of her arms, "I sure am! And Akari and Rei are right where they said they'd be, so we can just walk together."

Ingo responded, "Thank you."

"That is good." Emmet commented. 

Zisu gave a friendly smile, and the three made haste for the village gates. Akari and Rei stood some ways outside them, just as was promised.

Zisu waved as she continued walking past Akari and Rei, heading for the Temple on her own, the others returning the gesture, before Ingo and Emmet turned to face Akari and Rei. 

"So, you will be helping us to the Temple of Sinnoh, and our stops before that?" Emmet asked.

Akari nodded, "Indeed, we thought you guys would benefit from a bit of help."

"Besides, safety in numbers, right?" Rei added. 

Emmet voiced, "Yes. Thank you verrry much."

"Excellent! You both have our thanks!" Ingo exclaimed, "I planned on making way for the Coronet Highlands first, to meet with Hectar and Lady Sneasler. How is that?"

"Sounds like a plan!" Akari replied, "Ingo, you lead the way and I'll be right at your side if you need help. Emmet and Rei must also be on the look-out, of course."

"I will stay by you. And keep watch." Emmet spoke to Ingo.

Ingo nodded and smiled, then stepped forward, the others preparing to follow, "Bravo! Yes, we will stay and work together! Now then- full speed ahead!"

After some trecking, the group made their way to the Coronet Highlands. Thanks to Akari's vast collection of Pokémon and the group's combined knowledge, they were able to get there quicker than a usual trip between the lands. 

While Akari had become accustomed to the ins and outs of the Highlands, Ingo knew the Highlands like the back of his hand; He knew just what shortcuts to use, when and how to use them, and most importantly, where Lady Sneasler's seat was located.

As Ingo led the quartet up the path to Lady Sneasler's seat, they were suddenly met with Lady Sneasler herself hopping down in the middle of the path in front of them, Hectar emerging from a turn close behind the Noble.

The group stopped in their tracks, taken aback.

"Woah!" Rei vocalized.

Lady Sneasler made a hissing sound that almost sounded like laughter, flicking her feather away with her claw.

Ingo chuckled and waved to Sneasler, "Good morning, my Lady!"

Hectar approached the group, laughing a bit as well. 

"Lady Sneasler has been waiting to see you, Ingo." Hectar explained "She wants to go to the Temple with us."

"Oh, really?" Ingo responded, "Well, let us get to her seat first. We can discuss things there."

Hectar nodded, Sneasler making a purring noise, Ingo initiating the rest of the walk to Lady Sneasler's seat.

"So you want to come to the Temple?" Ingo spoke to Sneasler, Hectar standing by the Noble.

Sneasler made some clicking and trilling sounds. She did. She wanted to be there for whatever happened.

"Alright. I have nothing against that idea!" Ingo conveyed, "But will your kits be safe?"

Sneasler made more clicking noises, Hectar piping in.

"I've been training my team in preparation for situations like these! They'll stay here to protect the kits- and I'll bring my Alakazam with me, in case they need to call for help!"

Ingo nodded, showing approval of Hectar's plan. "That sounds great!"

"Well, then I see no reason why you can't come!" Ingo said as he turned back to his Lord, raising his arm to give the Noble some pets. Sneasler purred, a silly looking grin on her face.

Ingo lowered his hand and spoke again, "Well, we've got some time to spare, lucky for us, as I hoped to be able to do a few things before heading to the Temple, first."

"What would that be?" Hectar wondered. Sneasler cocked her head to the side, also curious.

Ingo took a bag out from one of his coat's large pockets

"My Lady, we made your favorite again; But with a twist!" Ingo exclaimed.

Sneasler made a curious clicking noise. 

"I helped," Emmet added, "I hope that is okay…my Lady." 

Ingo approached the bowl at the seat and poured the contents of the bag inside, "Yes, Emmet helped me make your dish for this morning, my Lady! He did his best and I'm sure it'll be excellent! Is that okay?"

Lady Sneasler approached the bowl and looked at the food. It was still very recognizable as her favorite dish Ingo had perfected, but it certainly was different this time.

Sneasler sniffed the bowl and hesitantly took a bite of the food. Then, her eyes lit up, and she began eating quicker while purring could be heard coming from her.

Hectar smiled and Emmet sighed with relief, Ingo clapping his hands.

"Bravo, Emmet! She loves it!"

Emmet smiled and turned to Sneasler,

"I am glad I was able to make an enjoyable dish for you."

Lady Sneasler made a trilling noise before taking another bite. 

"My Lady, I don't mean to bother you, but I would like to see the kits and eggs before we leave to the Temple," Ingo stated, "could Emmet see the eggs with us? He is very gentle and loving to little ones."

Lady Sneasler, almost done with her food, thought for a moment. Then, she made a content hissing noise, nodding. She was sure Ingo would take care of Emmet if he did anything, and Emmet had proved to be nothing but friendly so far. 

"Excellent! You have our thanks, Lady Sneasler!" Ingo replied.

Emmet nodded, "Thank you, Lady Sneasler. I appreciate it a lot."

Sneasler replied with trills and clicks. She would follow them soon. 

Ingo turned to Hectar, "Hectar, would you like to come with us?"

Hectar nodded, "Of course!"

Ingo, Emmet, Akari, Rei and Hectar made their way into the den. Emmet seemed struck by adorableness by the sight of the kits. 

"They are so cute!"

"I know, right?" Rei agreed.

"Indeed, they are!" Ingo chuckled, and even though the eggs may not have been able to hear them, Ingo spoke, "Little ones! You may have heard news of a new person here! He is my brother, and he is very kind! He's here to see you all with me, so don't be afraid to say hi!"

Emmet smiled. The group took some more steps in the cave.

"Look, Ingo, this is the egg I told you about!" Hectar commented suddenly, walking towards an egg snuggled in a bed made of some grass and other soft materials. It was almost the same as the other eggs, but looked a tiny bit different.

Emmet and Ingo followed Hectar, Akari and Rei looking from a few paces away.

"Is this the egg you told me Lady Sneasler had recently?"

"Yes, sir! It seems healthy overall, but it seems just a bit different from the others."

Ingo thought for a moment. Then, he got an idea!

"Well! I think I'd be able to tell just fine, but my brother here is especially knowledgeable in care of baby Pokémon!" Ingo exclaimed, "Emmet, how about you help me take a look at this egg?"

Emmet seemed surprised, but was glad to take the offer. "Of course I can do that."

With that, the twins examined the egg for some moments, before speaking to each other for another.

"So?" Hectar asked.

"It is hard to tell; It may be a bit more fragile than the others, or be a little weaker, but we would only really be able to tell when it is born." Emmet explained.

"Lady Sneasler will probably be able to tell when the egg is a bit more developed." Ingo added.

"But it's not bad?"

"No, nothing necessarily bad."

Hectar nodded, "That's good"

"Well, I'm going to say my farewells to the other little ones." Ingo commented. He smiled and gave the egg a few pats, "I'll see you again, little one!"

Emmet laughed a little and also gave the egg a few pats. Ingo stood up, Emmet following.

As promised, Ingo walked around the cave, giving each egg and kit some pets and kind words. Emmet followed suite, wanting to let the little ones know he meant no harm- plus, they were pretty cute! He gave them a few pets and a few nice words. Some kits were a bit hesitant to let Emmet pet them, but he at least got one or two pets, and he made sure not to push their comfort levels.

A lot of them didn't have nearly as much trust in him as Ingo, but he thought he was doing well.

Soon, it was time to go.

"It's about time to get going now." Ingo stated.

Ingo, Emmet, Akari, Rei and Hectar walked to the exit of the den, where Lady Sneasler had been standing for a bit now.

Irida vocalized, "When we get to the Pearl Clan, we should perform a short ceremony to set Hectar's new role in stone. Is that alright with you all?"

Ingo nodded, Sneasler making a trilling sound of agreement. Hectar seemed shocked at first, but encouraged by the approval of the other two, he beamed, giving Irida a small bow, "I would be forever blessed."

The others only nodded- they were not part of the Pearl Clan, and they had no reason to object.

Irida smiled at Hectar's enthusiasm, "Then it is settled."

With that, Hectar and the others then turned back to look into the den.

"Goodbye, little ones! I'll be back soon, and Hectar will do his very best to take care of you all!" Ingo announced, "Don't worry, he is a great warden!"

"Goodbye! Thank you for meeting me!" Emmet added.

"I'll be back later today!" Hectar said.

"See you all some other time!" Akari exclaimed.

"Byyee!" Rei chimed in.

"Do keep an eye on that egg." Ingo told Lady Sneasler and Hectar as they left. Sneasler made some clicking noises in response, as she understood. Hectar nodded.

Once they were outside, they stopped at the exit of Sneasler's seat.

"So, you're coming with us to the Temple? For sure?" Ingo asked the Noble.

Sneasler made a trilling noise. She was sure.

Ingo smiled and nodded, "Alright then! We need to visit clan grounds in the Alabaster Icelands first, and then we will make haste for the Temple? Everyone on board?"

Sneasler trilled. 

"Yes, sir!" Hectar answered.

"Absolutely!" Akari replied

"Of course!" Rei responded.

"Yup!" Emmet said simply.

"Good!" Ingo stated, "Let's go!"

Soon, the group made it to the Pearl Settlement in the Alabaster Icelands. Sneasler was certainly helpful in getting them there faster. 

Irida was waiting at the entrance of the Settlement. She waved at Ingo and the others when they gave into view, the group returning the gesture.

"Good morning, Lady Irida. Thank you for waiting for us!" Ingo spoke.

"No need to thank me," Irida replied, "I have the people gathered if you wish to make any announcements. I'll at least be making a few."

"That's great, actually! I would like to make a few announcements, as well." Ingo turned to the others.

"Is it okay if you all accompany us in the announcements? If needed?"

All of them seemed to respond in the affirmative.

Ingo nodded, before turning back to Irida.

"We're ready."

Irida nodded and walked into the Settlement. Ingo and the others heard mumbling and whispering as they followed Irida towards the hot springs, where the announcements would be held. 

Irida stepped onto one of the rocks by the hotsprings, Ingo, Emmet, Akari, Rei and Hectar standing to the side.

"Attention! Thank you all for gathering here today." Irida spoke, "We're here this morning because I have important news, and there are things you must hear from a few others as well."

"As you all know, Warden Ingo appeared here mysteriously one day. Warden Ingo has been looking into his origins more lately. As you may also know, his brother, Emmet, appeared here just yesterday by similar means." Irida continued, "Emmet has made claims that he got help from Dialga and Palkia to come here, and wishes to bring Ingo to their origin world. Ingo has agreed to go temporarily. Emmet will soon be tested when we leave for the Temple of Sinnoh. Warden Ingo will now make an announcement regarding these important manners and their details."

Irida stepped down, Ingo stepping up after her. Ingo waved up Emmet, Hectar and Lady Sneasler, who stepped up beside him. Ingo faced the crowd before him.

"Greetings, everyone! Thank you for coming to listen to me today. As Irida said, I have a few important things to say." Ingo explained, gesturing to Emmet, "As you all have been told, this is my twin brother, Emmet. He wishes to bring me home to my origin world, and I wish to go for a while. My trip will not be permanent– if change occurs, I will do my best to make sure it goes smoothly! In my origin world, I will be recovering my memories and learning about my origin world and myself."

Ingo glanced at Hectar and Lady Sneasler. He continued.

"It may also be known that I have been training a successor to my role as Lady Sneasler's Warden. As far as I have planned, I will not be giving up my role as Warden any time soon, but I need someone to help me in situations like this- and there's no harm in preparing for things early, right?"

Ingo turned and nodded at Hectar, who nodded back and turned to the crowd. 

"Thank you all. It is an honor to be Warden Ingo's predecessor, and one of Lady Sneasler's caretakers."

Lady Sneasler made content trilling and clicking noises, flicking her feather away. 

Ingo once again faced the crowd. He began speaking once more.

"I will say, that I believe that this announcement is the last time I will be here at the clan for a while. I believe Emmet is telling the truth. And if not..then I will face the consequences of my actions." Ingo stated, "But! I will treat the end of this announcement true to my beliefs. Everything will be well; I hope you can trust me and my words. So I end this announcement with a farewell until I return and take care. All of you have our thanks!"

"Emmet, can you step down for a few moments? We are about to perform the ceremony." Ingo said

"Of course." Emmet replied with a nod before stepping down and off of the rocks, Irida stepping back up onto them.

"With that, let us perform a short ceremony to celebrate Hectar's newfound status as Warden Ingo's successor."

Ingo, Hectar and Lady Sneasler stepped onto the rocks with Irida. The crowd, along with Emmet, watched intently as the ceremony was performed. It consisted of a few small rituals, mostly symbolic vows important to the completion of the ceremony. 

At the very end, Ingo placed a small bracelet on Hectar's wrist. It wasn't as patterned or large as Ingo's, but it definitely served as an indicator of Hectar's new role.

And with that, Hectar, Irida, Ingo, and even Lady Sneasler all took a bow.

"It is done. We all welcome Hectar as Ingo's successor, and our dear Noble Sneasler's future Warden." Irida stated.

After another exchange of words– including Hectar's thanks– him, Ingo and Sneasler dispersed back off the rocks.

Irida turned to once again face the crowd,

"And there you have it. Warden Ingo will be leaving now, and I must accompany him. I will not be gone for long." Irida stated, "Do not worry. You can trust us, as Warden and Leader. Take care of yourselves. You may all go now."

The crowd murmured again, but seemed mostly content. They slowly dispersed from the hot springs. 

Irida stepped down and faced the others. 

"Thank you for letting me say what I wanted, even if you didn't necessarily like it." Ingo spoke to Irida.

"I am not mad, or disappointed," Irida replied, "I suppose I'm just..worried."

"You don't have to worry. I know I have no proof of that but..I'll say it anyway."

"I appreciate that. Truly, I do."

"I would like to thank you, as well, Miss Irida." Emmet stated.

Irida gave Emmet a smile and simply nodded.

Rei commented, "Do we have anything else to do? Or should we finally make our way to the Temple of Sinnoh?"

Nobody objected to the idea.

"Alright then, we should get going." Irida said, "Akari, why don't you lead the way?"

Akari smiled and nodded, "To the Temple of Sinnoh we go! Is everybody ready?"

The others all answered in the positive.

With that, Akari turned to face the direction they would walk, then announced;

"Let's go!"

Eventually, the group finally got to the Temple of Sinnoh. It was high up on the mountains, the structure broken and worn after the arrival of Palkia and Dialga while they were frenzied.

Now, it was a silent place, its pillars piercing the sky.

Everyone else was already waiting; Adaman, Zisu and Cyllene.

They stood near the center, Akari and the others approaching them. 

"So, shall we begin? There's not much to say." Cyllene remarked, "We all know why we're here."

Irida conveyed, "Hectar, Lady Sneasler, follow me, please."

Hectar and Lady Sneasler did as they were told, walking with Irida to stand near a broken pillar opposite of where Adaman stood, Cyllene and Zisu near yet another.

Rei and Akari decided to approach Zisu and Cyllene; They were more used to Jubilife Village, after all.

"I'm going to stay near Emmet." Ingo proclaimed. No one objected, although Ingo felt as if they weren't the fondest of his decision.

"Emmet needs the Orbs to summon Dialga and Palkia." Rei exclaimed. 

"Right." Akari replied, facing Adaman and Irida, who nodded in approval. Akari nodded back and approached Emmet, reaching in her satchel and taking out the Adamant and Lustrous Orbs. Emmet's heart began racing upon the sight of them; This was it.

"Here. Now it's time to let Dialga and Palkia decide what should happen next." Akari spoke as she handed the Orbs to Emmet.

Emmet nodded and took the Orbs, "Yup. Thank you verrry much."

Akari stepped back and returned to the pillar she had been standing at before. 

Ingo stuck to his word and stood beside Emmet, although making sure to take a few steps back, as he was unsure what would happen.

"I will begin now." Emmet stated. No one objected.

In response to that, Emmet carefully placed the Orbs on the ground in front of the center, to the left and the right. He then returned to the center.

Emmet then spoke, loud and clear.

"Dialga and Palkia! I have arrived in Hisui, just as I said I would, and as you sent me to! Not only that, I have found my brother, Ingo! Not everything is as I thought it would be; Some good, some bad." Emmet exclaimed, "Ingo and I wish to go home, for a temporary amount of time. The people of Hisui are skeptical of me and my claims of your aid to me- and so I am summoning you here, both to prove myself and ask something of you!"

Emmet's speech echoed through the air before vanishing. His heart rate went up. Ingo stiffened. For a moment, they both felt fear; What if they didn't show up at all?

Then, the ground and sky began to rumble. Yelps and other sounds of surprise came from everyone standing at the Temple. Then, two massive portals formed in front of the Orbs, which now began to vanish. Emmet smiled wide and Ingo's eyes sparkled. 

And then, the gods of Space and Time stepped through the portals, making their appearance onto the Temple. The portals closed behind them.

Everyone stared in awe. Adaman, Irida, and Hectar got on their knees, bowing to their lords. 

"..Humans." The voices of Palkia and Dialga echoed in Emmet and everyone else's heads. 

"You have summoned the Gods of Space and Time to this Temple."

Before anyone could speak, the legends' voices boomed again.

"Emmet. You have summoned us here."

"Yes. I told you why, but I ask that you allow some of the others to speak."

Emmet faced Ingo, who blinked, surprised. But then he nodded, seemingly knowing what he would say.

Ingo stepped forward, beside Emmet.

"Dialga, Palkia. My brother summoned you here for two reasons; But first things first…" Ingo continued, "Emmet has claimed to all of us that he had your aid to come here and search for me. I believe him with all my heart and soul, but others want your confirmation of his truth. Please, I ask you to give us your answer."

Dialga and Palkia were quiet for a moment, scanning the people who stood upon the Temple. Ingo became nervous, but tried to shake it off. Surely, they were thinking of what to say.

Then, they heard their voices again.

"..The truth he speaks indeed. And it seems his determination has not wavered between different spaces and times."

Emmet and Ingo felt multiple tons of weights lift off their shoulders. The others looked shocked.

"So it's true!" Rei exclaimed, "I knew I could believe in you guys!"

Ingo smiled at Emmet, who smiled back at him. They were both immensely happy.

"You have summoned us here," Dialga and Palkia spoke again, "you said, for two reasons. You have spoken one- what is the other?"

"Dialga and Palkia, much of my memory is missing, but my heart still remembers; Even without the memories, I know that Emmet is my brother, and I know I have a home from where and when he came." Ingo explained, "He wants to bring me there, and I wish to go, for a temporary amount of time. After that time is over, we both wish to return here."

Finally, Irida spoke up, "..Can that be arranged?"

"It can," Dialga and Palkia answered, "we can bring Emmet and Ingo to their world of origin, and when their amount of time is over, we will pull them back here. How much time do they request?"

"Two months and a half." Cyllene answered.

"That can be done."

Suddenly, the Temple shook again, and a single portal opened in front of Ingo and Emmet.

"This is your way home."

"It's that easy, huh…?" Irida articulated, "So I guess you won't be having to go back."

Ingo shook his head, "No. But…before I go forward; Thank you, all of you. Some people would be cruel, and not let me go at all…I thank you for giving Emmet and I a chance."

"Yup, yup!" Emmet exclaimed, "Thank you all so, so verrry much!"

He sounded genuine.

The others replied with their affirmations in response to the brothers' gratefulness.

Akari and Rei ran up to Ingo and hugged him, Ingo laughing. He returned the gesture, glancing at Lady Sneasler and Irida, smiling. Sneasler trilled, Irida smiling in return as they walked over to Ingo, Akari and Rei stepping back. Ingo and Irida shared a hug, Irida stepping away after a moment, before Lady Sneasler licked Ingo on his forehead and patted him with her claws, Ingo laughing and giving her a hug as well, along with some pats on her head. 

Ingo and Sneasler ended their gestures to each other before stepping back.

"I will be going now. Once again, thank you all so much. We're both eternally grateful."

"The trip through the portal will cause unconsciousness." Dialga and Palkia spoke to Ingo and Emmet alone, "Do not worry. You will awaken in a familiar place, and no damage will occur. Do you both still wish to go?"

Ingo then turned to Emmet. They both nodded at each other, then at the legendary Pokémon.

"Then, take your step."

Ingo turned to Emmet again, who turned back to Ingo.

-

"Ready?" Ingo asked.

"Ready as I will ever be!" Emmet replied.

Emmet reached out his hand. Ingo smiled and took it.

Emmet started, "On one.."

"Two.." Ingo continued,

"Three!"

In sync, the twin brothers jumped into the portal that would lead them to home, which closed behind them. And as they drifted off into unconsciousness almost immediately, for some reason they wondered.

What would the realm of dreams offer them this time?

Chapter 17 (part 2 of 2)

Chapter 19 (part 1 of 2)

[noorhelmgifs]

I have a question. I don't know if it's intentional or if it's because of how the versions edit their show but do you guys make your coloring look different then what the show actually looks like? For example your sidebar gif of Noora/William in the show her her is more of a white blonde but your in your gif her hair is more yellowish/gold. Or one of your more recent gifs of Grace where her eyes are blue but your gif made them look green (to me)

Well, that’s the thing about coloring gifs you often change the shade of the color, and yeah it has something to do with the way the show is edited because sometimes there are a lot of blue-ish or green-ish or yellow-ish lights so you need to add a bit of pink or red for example and when you play with color balance in photoshop it changes the shades in the gif. The colors (or shades) of hair and eyes also depend on the environment the character is in and how the colors affect one another. 

Also when you want to make a gifset with many different scenes you want the gifs to match so you play with the colors to make it somewhat aesthetically pleasing. And giffing is fun... so sometimes you just play with the colors because you can, just make sure you’re not whitewashing characters that are not white

[charliedawn]

Imagine being the only angel that likes Lucifer and is still fighting for his redemption

" Chloe ! You have awful neighbors, did you know that..?!"

" Lucifer !"

The devil doesn't have the time to make one more step inside the room that you are already jumping in his arms. He sighs as he recognizes you and awkwardly pats your back until you untangle yourself from him, a wide smile spread across your face.

" Y/N..What are you doing here ?"

He asks straight away, but you only shrug nonchalantly, as if your presence was of no importance.

" Just wanted to check on you ! Are you alright ? Father told me that you could use some company ! Plus, aren't I allowed to visit my favorite angel from time to time ?!"

He looks at Chloe that only shrugs at him, as clueless as he is. She had noticed you waiting near her house and had first suspected you to be a threat, but the way you had smiled at her had immediately made her trust you somehow.

" Chloe is a wonderful woman ! I understand why you like her so much. Thank you for the tea."

Lucifer looks at the empty cup and raises an eyebrow at the detective.

" Hey ! Why didn't you ever made me some tea ?"

Chloe scoffs at his poor attempt at jealousy before walking past him.

" Because A) She's better behaved and B) She isn't the Devil. Now, you two have a lot to catch up on I assume, so I'll be taking Trixie to the zoo while you two take care of whatever you're here for.."

She glances at you knowingly and you smile gratefully at her. She slams the door behind her and as soon as she is gone, Lucifer loses his playful smile and looks at you with a worried expression.

" Y/N..What are you really doing here ? You are one of his favorites. You have to return up there. It is not safe down here.."

You frown at his sudden seriousness and give a little pout before replying, your arms crossed.

" But it is for you ? You were one of us, Luci. The Greatest. It hurt me so much when I saw you fall and I am still fighting for your redemption ! You have changed. You have changed so much and I am not about to give up because you have !"

His eyes start watering despite himself and he asks you with a tremor in his voice.

" Why still believe in me ? There is nothing to save anymore..Why try so hard, Y/N ?"

You seem to think about it for a while before sighing and looking up at him with a hopeful smile.

" Because, I remember who you were..I remember who we were to each other and it was so beautiful, Luci. We were beautiful. When you fell, it took Michael, Azrael and Gabriel to keep me from jumping after you. I love you, Luci. We all did at some point but, even if the others chose to forget, I didn't..If only your pride hadn't taken control over you. You could have been magnificent, the angel of angels..This is also why I decided to take care of Hell while you're gone, covering your absence from Dad.."

He frowns in incomprehension before you smile and take his appearance in front of him.

" Neat trick, huh ? Nobody noticed the difference up there..Well, almost nobody. Gabriel did, but he promised not to tell anyone."

He had almost forgotten completely about Hell and takes your hands to kiss your knuckles in a simple act of humble tenderness, knowing what you were risking in helping him, knowing what HE would do if he knew.

" I'm sorry. I just wanted to feel loved..I just wanted HIM to be proud of me..I don't regret what I did that day, but if I regret anything..It's to have made you suffer, my little angel.."

You stroke his hair softly and smile compassionately at him.

" HE knows..HE is always watching you and know that you were doing what you thought was just..One day, you will come back home and that day, I'll be here, waiting for you.."

Luci looks up at you and gently runs his hand through your locks. He then kisses your forehead and you smile before slowly wrapping your arms around his neck to play with the hair at the back of his neck.

" No matter what happens, you'll always have me, Luci.."

You look up at him with all of the love you feel for this cursed angel and Lucifer tightens his grip on you, his eyes momentarily turning red with emotions.

" This is what scares me, Y/N..My poor angel, waiting for me will destroy you. I will never come back. Either Father will send me back to Hell or I'll stay here, among the humans."

You bite your lower lip before looking up at him and finally admit what you had agreed on with the great above.

" I know..This is why Gabriel has allowed me to rule Hell while you stay here, permanently, or at least until Dad finds out.."

His eyes widen at the news and he shakes his head negatively before cradling your face with his hands, almost crying at your act of kindness.

" Oh no, my darling..I..I'm sure he didn't say that, he couldn't have agreed to that. You must have misunderstood..You can't do that..Gabriel would never let you do that. And even if he did, I can't ask you to do that for me.."

You puff your cheeks, upset at his lack of faith.

" Why don't you believe me ?! Have you forgotten that the code forbids me to lie ?! Or do you have such little faith on my abilities ?!"

He laughs at your grumpy expression and shakes his head, making you understand that that wasn't what he meant, before putting his forehead against yours.

" Oh no, angel..It's not about not believing that you are good enough, I know that you are. It's about you not being here, right now, with me..Not being blamed for something that should be my responsibility.."

You try to make sense of his words until you seem to understand and burst out laughing to his astonishment.

" I see what's happening here ! You're afraid I'll put myself between you and the lovely policewoman ! But, don't worry, I'll be as discreet as a mouse as long as I'll stay here..I'm just here for a month and then, I'll be gone. I even got a job as a teacher at the school of Trixie, so you won't have to worry about me asking for money ! Lovely kid by the way !"

If Lucifer didn't have a headache before, he certainly did now..He is overwhelmed by the amount of information you've just given him and falls on the sofa. You follow him and sit next to him with your eternal sweet smile on your face and he runs his hand over his face, worry and tiredness written all over his features. You put your hands on his shoulders and your chin upon one of your hands, trying to soothe him by stroking his shoulders with your thumbs reassuringly.

" Let me take care of you..You've suffered enough, my wonderful little snake.."

Lucifer smiles at the familiar nickname before laying his hand over your back and looking down at you with teary eyes.

" Even after all this time, you still accept me ? You still find the strength in yourself to love me ?"

You answer him with a wide grin.

" Always. I'll always love you, Luci..They can tell me whatever they want, I know you and who you really are. I've seen every single part of you and I will always love all of them. Your flaws and your imperfections are what makes you so perfect..Can't you see ? You're not Father's greatest failure, your Father's greatest wonder. I could never be as human and empathetic as you are, I could never love them the way you can, because you understand them. Their desires, dreams and feelings are in you as well. In some way, I envy you. You'll always be closer to them than I'll ever be.."

Lucifer listens to your words with great attention and when you're finished, he looks at you like he's never looked at anyone before. He is full of gratitude and can't stop smiling at the abundance of kindness you had bestowed upon him. He kisses the palm of your hands, tears rolling down his cheeks and his heart swollen with adoration and devotion towards you.

" There is nothing great about humanity, but you seem to always see good in everything and everyone..You can't imagine how much I've missed you.."

You giggle as he peppers you face with kisses.

" I've missed you too, Luci..But, I think you should probably stop acting this way, or people will think you have a soft spot.."

You tease him and he takes a fake gasp before pointing a finger at himself.

" Me ?! Why never..?!"

You chuckle at his false startled expression before wrapping your hands around his waist to mumble against his shoulder.

" I love you, Luci..I know you don't believe me, but I really do."

He glances down at you with open tenderness before slowly petting the top of your head with care.

" I know, love..But, we both know that it will end in misery for the both of us.."

You smile up at him and kiss him on the cheek before replying with a shrug. You tighten your hold on him and make yourself even more comfortable by laying your head on his thighs.

" Misery with you is better than misery without you.."

He sighs loudly before looking down at you and seeing you suddenly asleep..Unaware that you were still somehow able to hear him, he whispers almost sorrowfully to himself.

" What hurts the most is that..You won't remember anything of what you just said.."

He watches your silent form for a while and takes a shaky breath before looking up at the sky, knowing that HE is listening.

" Punishing me wasn't enough ? You had to punish her as well ? How many centuries must you make her suffer and wait for something that will never happen ? You promised that when I would fall, she would stay safe..You gave me your word ! You turned around and left me to fall without her or you ! Can you imagine the pain I felt when I woke up in that dreadful place; alone and scared. And not only did you leave me, you took her away from me too ! You promised you wouldn't, and yet you did ! You gave up on us ! You gave up on me ! And just when I thought I would finally be able to forget her and live with Chloe, you send her to me and make me love her all over again ! What must I do to finally be able to forget ! I've done what you asked, over and over again ! I erased her memory every time she would come to see me ! I made sure that she would not remember all the moments we shared together after my fall ! And yet, you can't even keep an eye on her and let her run Hell alone ?! Why ?! To make me even more guilty ?! Every 100 years ! Every 100 years you let her come down here and make me suffer by erasing everything ! I thought that once I would be among them, she wouldn't be able to find me anymore, but as always, I'm trapped and must see the only person I love forget about me, over and over again.."

He starts crying and doubles in pain at the rage eating him up from the inside. This is where he feels it, a small tremor, a slight change in body position..He freezes in horror and looks down at you, to meet directly with your wide glassy eyes full of pain and grief.

"..Every 100 years ?.."

His breath stops as he understands that you've been listening to him and shakes his head at his own stupidity.

" Luci...? How many times did I come here to see you ?"

As he bites his lower lip in order not to answer you, you straighten up and ask again firmly, all joy having left your voice.

" How many times, Lucifer ?"

His eyes wander around the room before looking back at you and his heart tightens as he knows that he couldn't lie to you anymore.

" 50 times..You came 50 times and every time, you took a body and as soon as this body would reach its limit, you would die and get back up there with HIM..He would reset your memory and you would forget everything if I didn't do it first..while I remember everything. It hurts, Y/N..Just when I thought I could forget about you, he sends you again.."

You open your mouth agape at the news and look at the body you had taken and feel tears gathering up in your eyes. For centuries, you've fought for Lucifer's redemption, not even noticing that you were the one who was also being punished.

" This woman..Do you love her ?"

You suddenly ask and Lucifer stays silent for a moment before finally confessing.

" Not as much as you.."

You laugh at his answer before shaking your head and looking back at him with tears in your eyes, still full of compassion for him.

" But you will..You will love her with all of your heart and, knowing you, you will find a way for her to be by your side forever, something I can't be.."

He was about to deny your words, but you don't let him and stand up to walk towards the door. He quickly does the same and puts his hand over yours when you were about to use the handle to open the door.

" Please, angel..It is hard enough for me to know that I have very little time with you..Don't go."

He pleads and it takes all of your strength not to indulge in his request. You turn around and kiss him with a burning passion, to let him know that you weren't leaving him because you wanted to..But because you knew that there was nothing that you could do that wouldn't end up in tears and blood, because you love him. When he opens his eyes again, you are gone and he falls to his knees, knowing that it was probably the last time he would see you, or be intimate with you in this life. He knows that you've just given him the highest form of mercy there is: this kiss, signifying his freedom and the start of his new life..But then, why does it hurt so much ? As if you had just taken a part of himself with you..He looks up to see the car of Chloe that parks in front of the house, a very excited Trixie in her arms and wipes his tears away to smile at the family that he had learned to be a part of.

" So, is your friend gone ?"

Chloe asks, looking around to see if you were still in the house. Lucifer frowns before asking, confused.

" What friend ?"

One month later :

" Be safe on your way back, okay Trixie ?"

Trixie smiles up at you and nods vividly.

" Don't worry, my dad is coming to get me !"

You ark an eyebrow, wondering if Chloe had finally got herself a man to look after Trixie..not suspecting one bit that Lucifer would be the one entering your classroom to get Trixie. The little girl jumps in his arms and you can't help but laugh at her enthusiasm, as well as Lucifer's obvious awkwardness. When you make eye contact, you simply smile politely at each other and he turns around to get the girl back home. Perfect strangers. When he is gone however, you feel a pain in your chest and have to grip on the nearby table in order to support yourself. When you look up, you see Gabriel and smile bitterly, knowing why he was here..

" So, my time has come then, Gab ?"

He looks almost apologetic when he extends his hand towards you and answers affirmatively.

" You know the drill, Y/N..one month with him. You're the one who wished to share his burden..Hell is waiting.."

You close your eyes and nod in submission.

" I know..Lead the way, Gabriel."

Lucifer is feeling uneasy..He has this feeling that he knew that teacher somehow..But couldn't seem to recall where he could have seen her before..

" You know, the new teacher is really nice ! She got us some cake today, and said that I was going to become a very fine lady when I grow up !"

She puffs her chest out proudly and Lucifer smiles while they arrive at Chloe's house.

" Really ? And what else did she tell you ?"

Trixie frowns in deep concentration before answering him.

" Well..her name is Y/N..And when I said to her that I was friends with the devil, she told me to take care of him, as he is a very special friend.."

Lucifer chuckles before opening the door of his car and letting the little girl out to enter the house where her mother was trying desperately to find an explanation to her new case, not supernatural this time. It was rather refreshing..However, his thoughts come back to the earlier event when he had made eye contact with you, your smile had almost seemed..sad ? Y/N..Y/N..Where had he already heard that name before ? He searches in each corner of his memory, the feeling of knowing nagging and annoying him. He is in the middle of the driveway when he suddenly remembers and stops abruptly. His tires screech loudly on the pavement when he pulls back. He starts driving at a fast speed towards the school.

" Wait for me Y/N, I'm coming.."

You find yourself on the top of the school and look at Gabriel that seems to read your thoughts.

" He's not coming.."

You smile sadly at the prospect and nod understandingly.

" I know..Hell needs me, and he doesn't."

You take a big breath before opening your eyes, the last rays of sunlight reflecting in your eyes as your body starts shifting into his.

" Are we ready to go, Lucifer ?"

You smile at Gabriel's new name for you and nod before looking at yourself and smirking, the same smirk you had learned to love and hate as you were exercising how to do it in front of your mirror.

" Let's go, humans are such a boredom anyway !"

If Gabriel hadn't seen the transformation with his own eyes, he would have thought that it was the true Lucifer that was now standing before him..It is just when you deploy your white wings that he remembers that it is still you, under all of that pretend..You are both about to take your leave when you hear the loud bang of a car crashing nearby. You both look down and see Lucifer get out of the car, his eyes flashing a bright orange as he looks up at you. You shiver at the anger radiating from him and try to fly up after Gabriel. However, Lucifer shouts your name in such a guttural and ferocious way that you freeze.

" Y/N ! Don't you dare fly away from me ! I forbid you to go !"

You glance down at him and see that he has taken his true appearance back and each step he takes are trailed by little flames of Hell's fire. You shake your head and tear your eyes away from him to take a step back and jump in the air to follow Gabriel. Gabriel tries to warn you, but before he could utter a word, someone had tackled you to the ground in mid-air. When you look up, you see a very angry Lucifer on top of you and it's the first time that you are actually scared of him.

" Luci..? Wh..What are you..?!"

" Enough !"

He cuts you off with all of his mighty authority and you can't do anything but stay quiet as he glares at you.

" What do you think will happen if any of the demons down there recognizes you ?! What went through your little naive mind to think that that would ever work ?! You're an angel, Y/N ?! Come on, you really thought about the consequences of your actions ?!"

Your lower lip quivers at his harsh words and you feel hot tears rolling down your cheeks. He grins evilly at you before wiping your tears in a false gesture of sympathy.

" Aww..If you had done your researches like a good little angel, you would have known that Lucifer Morningstar doesn't cry.."

" Liar !"

You shout back and he smirks at your insult.

" See ? Progress."

He then stands up and yanks you up just as Gabriel flies down next to the both of you. He looks at the both of you before sighing and taking a step back, making you understand that he wouldn't take part of what was to unfold.

" I don't know what's going on, and I don't have the time to care..All I know is that I have to bring one of you in Hell before the gates close tonight.."

You and Lucifer look at each other and Lucifer is surprised to see you get on a fighting stance, but smiles at the determination in your eyes.

" You want to got to Hell ? Fine by me..But you'll have to go through me first."

Far from feeling threatened, Lucifer is amused by your strength of will and his smile widens. He slowly takes back his human form and cracks his fingers theatrically before gesturing for you to step closer with his index.

" Wanna fight the devil ? I must warn you, it plays dirty.."

You smile at his innuendo before running towards him and throw a punch at his face. He takes a step back, not having expected you to actually be fighting him, but quickly composes himself and tries to knock you out with a blow to the head. However, you're too fast and make him fall by round kicking his legs. You can't help but smile smugly at his startled expression.

" Have I forgotten to mention that I've been learning a thing ot two about fighting with Michael ?"

He groans at the name of his brother and quickly stands up to attack again. Soon, you are both fighting each other seriously and, blow after blow, both get tired. Gabriel doesn't even know which one is which at the end, when you both pass out. However, Time is running out and he decides to take the closest Lucifer to fly away. He succeeds in arriving to the gates just in time and when you wake up, you find yourself in Hell. You look around and see the billions of souls being tortured and it takes all of your self-control not to throw up and remain poised on your throne of stone. You close your eyes and take multiple breaths to calm yourself. When you open your eyes, you sit straight and whisper to yourself.

" Okay..Here we go, Lucifer..Wish me luck.."

[fullbushfemme]

Meeting the Mayans

word count: 1,804

summary: You thought you were prepared for anything. Growing up with four brothers, you had been bitten, beaten, thrown out of trees, concussed, stabbed, practically any violent act you could possibly think of, you had endured. For a kindergarten teacher, you were tough. You had the scars to prove it. That was, of course, until the day you met the Mayans.

unnamed mayan x fem!reader

warnings: brief mentions of blood, hostage situation, and a shooting.

author's note: I've had this idea in my head for ages now and I'm tempted to make it a series. The only issue is that I can't decide which Mayan I want to star (since they aren't named in this fic). I'm tempted to use this as a jumping off point for multiple fics, writing different stories from this initial incident involving different Mayans, but I'd love to hear any thoughts y'all might have :)

-I also haven't written anything outside of academic works in years so go easy on me <3

Santo Padre Septembers were always your favorite. It was sticky and hot, enough to make anyone want to jump into a pool fully clothed, but school was back in session, which meant you got to meet a new hoard of bright-eyed, eager five year olds. You had spent the last month preparing your classroom for their arrival. Nine am to one pm every day for four weeks was dedicated to decorating your classroom, making name cards, making sure every student had all the supplies they needed. Inside every desk you placed glue and markers and pencils and workbooks and scissors...everything a little kid would need to express themselves. And all of it out of your own pocket. You took it upon yourself to spoil these kids rotten.

Two weeks into class, you already knew everyone’s names, their favorite color, their pets, and whether or not they were allowed to watch TV after six o’clock. You knew who was friends with who, who couldn’t eat peanut butter, and who was most popular. This year’s class was going to be great, you just knew it.

It was a humid Friday afternoon. The room smelled like Elmer’s glue and pencil shavings, with stray scraps of construction paper strewn about the floor after the kids decided this week’s art project was going to be making dinosaurs out of construction paper and glitter. You were staying after class to clean up and vacuum, and to take the class rabbit home with you since no one had signed up to care for him this week, when you heard a knock at your door.

You looked over to the open door, squinting into the sun, trying to make out who it was. But no one was standing in the doorway. “Forget something?” you called out, thinking that a student must’ve left a lunch box or notebook and was feeling shy.

“Not exactly,” a deep voice responded, sending a twinge of fear through your body. You knew that voice. “I was hoping my baby sister could help me with something.”

A lump had formed in your throat that you tried to swallow, to no avail. “What are you doing here?” you choked out, standing from where you were picking up paper scraps.

“I need you to help me hide. Quickly.” Your older brother stepped into the classroom, gun in hand, pupils wider than you had ever seen them. He must’ve been high, you thought, panicked. What had he gotten into now? All four of your brothers were known to be trouble-makers to varying degrees. A few had been to prison for petty crimes, but the brother that stood before you had gotten wrapped up in drug trafficking years ago. He scared you the most. They had all promised your parents that they would keep their lives separate from yours, that they would never put you in harm's way. But it didn’t last. It felt like every other week you had a bruised or beaten brother on your doorstep, begging for help or a place to stay. And today, it was to ask you to hide them.

Your eyes flitted to the large windows overlooking the grassy courtyard where a few children sat waiting for their parents to pick them up. Hide. Hide from what? Who was coming after him? Would they hurt the kids?

“N-no,” you stammered, taking a step backwards. You couldn’t risk putting any kids still on campus in danger. “You can’t hide here. You have to go. You have to go right now.” You could feel a pit in your stomach begin to form as your brother took slow, long strides toward you.

“No?” he spat, completely dumbfounded by your refusal to help him. You had never turned him down before. He was family. You never said no to family.

You swallowed hard before repeating yourself. “No,” you responded, with more conviction this time, although you knew he could see right through you.

You took another step back, but ran up against your desk. Your phone was in the top drawer. Could you reach it fast enough? If you even could, who would you call? The police? That was a good way to get murdered and leave a teacher-shaped stain on the floor for the kids to come back to on Monday. Gripping the edge of the table so hard your knuckles turned white, your brother broke the ominous silence before you could.

“I’m not asking you again, hun,” he spat, now so close you could smell him.

“I can’t,” you whispered, your eyes welling up. “The kids…”

He furrowed his brow for a moment, shocked at the idea that you could actually turn your own flesh and blood away. You had always helped him, no matter how many times your parents told you not to, no matter how many times your life was put in danger. He couldn’t grasp the idea that you would put your foot down when it came to endangering other people, when it came to endangering your kids.

“They’ll kill you, you know,” he seethed, looking back over his shoulder towards the open door. There was a low rumbling growing louder and louder, but that wasn’t to whom he was referring. He was talking about your other brothers. “I told them I’d go to my baby sister, that she’d help me. She always helps me. Why would she flip on me now? Why wouldn’t she help family?” His grip tightened around his handgun as he leaned in to threaten you. “If anything happens to me, they’ll know to come to you first. They’ll know you couldn’t protect your own family.” His breath was hot against your neck. “Now,” he sighed, “Help me hide. And tell them you haven’t seen me in months.”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” a man shouted from outside, causing your brother to grab hold of your arm. Those tears you had been holding back finally fell down your cheeks as your brother pulled you in front of him, placing you between the stranger and your brother. You could barely make out any details of the man from outside because of the blinding sun, but you could tell he had a gun. And that gun was much bigger than your brother’s. As the man moved into your classroom, at least five more men appeared and followed him in, all with guns pointed at your brother.

At this point, you were frozen. The lives your parents had so desperately tried to keep apart were crashing together, their worst nightmare coming true. The two of you were stuck, with only one way out. And he knew it. He gripped your arm tighter, making sure your body could be used as an effective human shield. The barrel of his gun was shoved into your ribcage, his face buried into the back of your hair.

“See what you’ve done?” he seethed. You looked at all of the men placed around the room. Leather-clad men on top of a backdrop of crudely painted rainbows and dogs. You hadn’t brought these men here. You didn’t anger a group of gun-toting men. And yet somehow, this was your fault.

“We’re only here for you, kid,” a low, rough voice called out, a different one than before.

But he wouldn’t let them take only him. He was bringing you down with him. He was willing to sacrifice his own family to keep from going down alone.

The seconds ticking by felt like hours. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, desperately trying to break free. But you could do nothing besides stand still. All you could do is hope and pray that these men that had followed your brother here had enough decency not to kill a kindergarten teacher caught in the crossfire. But your brother refused to give them that opportunity.

“If I go,” he yelled, raising his gun to your temple, “she goes too.”

These words would haunt your every thought for the rest of your life. But in that moment, all you could think about was the weapon pressed against your skin. Your brother wasn’t just willing to bring you down with him, he was willing to kill you himself. And the thought of it made you sick. It made you want to curl up into a ball and scream on the top of your lungs. You opened your mouth to cry out, but your brother hit you across the head with the butt of his gun before you could.

The men opposing your brother yelled, harsh words were exchanged, but all you could hear was a ringing in your ears. Tensions rose. Guns were raised. Blood dripped down your face and mixed with your tears. Your senses were betraying you, one by one, blending every sensation into one incomprehensible nightmare.

And then, a single gunshot rang out, making you acutely aware of the severity of the situation once more.

A scream escaped your chest as you fell to your knees, free from your brother’s death grip. You brought your hands up to your ears and squeezed your eyes shut, hoping it would all be over.

But it wasn’t over. It wouldn’t end. No matter how hard you prayed, you were still on the floor of your kindergarten classroom. Your brother was still prepared to kill you if he felt threatened. Someone was shot...someone was shot but you couldn’t bear to look. You wanted to look, you had to look, to see if it was your brother that was shot. But before you could muster the courage to open your eyes, two arms wrapped around you and pulled you into an embrace. It couldn’t have been your brother, it was much too gentle. But if it wasn’t him, then who?

It took a moment to open your eyes, but when you did, you looked up to see who was holding you. His face was kind, with dark brown eyes filled with worry as he looked down at you. He opened his mouth to say something to you, and he probably did, but you couldn’t hear him over the pounding in your head. He was a stranger to you, and yet he clung to you to keep you from seeing the mess behind you. Like he truly cared for your wellbeing. He pulled you in closer to him, placing his chin on top of your head the way your father did when you were young. It felt...safe. And all you wanted to do was collapse into him and allow yourself to feel safe. You let your head fall into his chest. You let your head fall into this stranger’s chest. And just as you did, two white patches on his left breast caught your eye. Two patches that read: Mayans, Santo Padre.