#in fact unapologetically

[miguel-owhora]

thinking about bill williamson and how pretty he'd look all red and flushed, pretty pink color spreading from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, swimming down to the rest of his body like the ripples of a lake. how stunning he'd look underneath you, plush body out on display with not an article of clothing to hide such beauty away from you.

fat spills from his belly and from his thighs, stretch marks all over like the unique and stunning stripes of a large tiger, only rivaled by the season old scars and the hair that litters his body; so thick and plush, it reminds you of a bear. because that's what bill is, isn't he? a large, burly, strong bear in need of some good loving.

kissing him so nicely he can't help but squirm underneath you, each sound that slips from his mouth - whether it be a groan or a breathless moan - has him growing even more flustered, and though embarrassed, can't find it in himself to stop nor push you away. though the thought does cross his mind when your hands, calloused and scarred over, gently open his thighs, he doesn't shy away.

well, doesn't try to stop you. he does, however, look away, biting his bottom lip and sending you a flustered smile with hazy eyes when the spreading of his thighs reveals his pussy.

just like the rest of his body, his cunt is flushed, fat, and hairy. his fat lips are pinned by his fat thighs, the hair on his inner thicker, thickening and darkening as it spreads to his cunt, like the barrier of a pretty garden. his cunt glistens with slick, cock swollen and throbbing.

both his cock and bill himself twitch when you circle his cock with your thumb, spreading his lips open and watching, mesmerized, as he slowly grools. he looks so pretty, flushed and wet and fat and plush, all for you, staring at you with round eyes, unbelievably flustered and needy.

[dovaldraws]

I have no explanation for this 4am sketch except my brain is slightly hazy and I’m a sucker for slightly bratty Tim Drake

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Starcrossed

Here we go! the next Drabble :D @spotaus

As the poll ended it gave me two options and I wanted to write a Cross POV. So. Starcrossed :D

First: here Prev: here Next: here

Timewise?

We are about... a Month and like three weeks in. So a month of Nightmare being alone. Three weeks of him being with the gang. about a small week after Killer soul-adopting Nightmare (with Dust adopting Nightmare in the first week as the madlad he is).

Okay? We good timeline wise? okay.

As always, unedited and unbeta'ed. This is not ever going to change unless i one day decide to make a full story of these drabbles and add extra stuff and change the chapters up.

Anyway!

*------------------------*

Cross rubs his face as he continues to walk "Dust."

Dust just hums to let him know he heard.

Cross shoots him a look "He has legs. he can walk." with he, Cross obviously means Nightmare.

Dust doesn't even look at Cross or look in anyway surprised by that sentence. Instead he just keeps walking as he holds Nightmare in his arms "I know."

Cross stares at him but Dust doesn't continue to speak.

He groans "So why isn't he walking?!"

Dust shrugs and instead bounces Nightmare up a bit to enable Dust to have a more secure and stable hold on Nightmare.

Nightmare for his part does not look bothered as he just relaxes against Dust as he looks back over Dust's shoulder and watches other people go about their day.

Cross rubs his face "honestly what is the deal with you and carrying him?"

Dust shoots him an amused look "I want to."

Cross throws his arms and hands out "That can't be the only reason!"

Dust shrugs "Don't need more reasons."

Cross glares at the ground as they continue walking. He looks up and points at a store "This one?"

Dust looks at it and shakes his skull.

Cross groans loudly "What is wrong wit this one?!"

Dust raises a brow "Wrong style."

Cross crosses, heh, his arms as he glances at Dust "You know. this whole clothes shopping thing would be a lot easier if you actually picked a store to enter."

Dust shrugs again "Not good enough." and he gently bonks his skull against Nightmare's.

Cross can't believe this is the same Dust that got his own clothes by walking into the frist store he saw and grabbing the first set of clothes he saw. before calling it a day. Dust's wardrobe was hardly ever actually his size.

Now? The first store was too low quality; then not the right colours; then wrong materials; then too bland; then too sexy, with this one Cross had agreed and questioned why they would need a shirt for a six year old with the words 'lady killer' on them; then to tight and restrictive; and now just 'not good enough'.

When Cross agreed to help Dust get Nightmare new clothes instead of breaking and entering a place wiht Killer he had hoped it would be the less stressful option.

Cross rubs his face "Wiht you being this picky he is never going to get clothes that fit him."

Dust shrugs again and seems fully unbothered. Which may just be because Nightmare primarily still wears his stuff.

Cross doesn't get it. well he kinda does. Babybones are cute nad he also notices the need to take care of him but. It is Nightmare! It is a matter of time before he is an adult again and then none of this will have mattered! Or maybe they will have and then what? How would he recover from this?!

It is best to remind himself that this may be Nightmare and he may be six but Nightmare will one day become that powerful and formidable monster again and so to keep treating him with the respect he deserves!

They walk silently through the twon for a moment and Cross can see that Nightmare is dozing in Dust's hold. completely content and trusting.

Cross shoots a look at Dust. "I just don't get it...."

Dust blinks nad looks over "What?"

Cross feels himself grow warm with embarrassment. He hadn't meant to say it out loud and he says as much.

Dust rolls his eye lights and waits with a raised brow.

Cross grumbles but tries to explain "How can you... treat him like a babybones that easily?"

Dust tilts his skull and glances down at Nightmare before looking back at Cross "Because he is one." the way Dust says it implies it is the obvious answer.

Cross groans as he tries to explain more "But he used to be big and an adult. Or at least look like one? How can you jsut... switch to seeing him as a babybones?"

Dust tilts his skull adn snorts "easy. people change. people you watched grow up or grow older, do you still treat them like kids even though they are adults. because you knew them as kids?"

Cross blinks nad speaks "This is different?"

Dust shakes his skull "I don't agree. it is the same concept. just slightly different. he used to be a child. magic gave him the body and brain of an adult. but his soul was sitll a child and once the magic was gone he is a child again. So you treat him as a child."

Cross frowns as looks to the side "What if he becomes on adult again?"

Dust starts to grin "I mean. that is usually how growing up works."

Cross knows he is blushing again and glares "You know what i meant."

Dust chuckles and shrugs "The same still implies. We will just be lucky we managed to skip the teenage years with him."

Cross wasn't sure what he expected as answer but maybe he should have seen something like this coming. Dust was after all all for this parentship thing they have going on right now... and Dust is a very smart and logical person. Of course he managed to find comparisons to normal day life and managed to accept it more easily. Hell Dust probably has even more examples ready to use if Cross asks for it.

It is still just... difficult to accept for him. Cross will need more time. Luckily none of them seem to mind him lagging behind in this case. Killer had also taken longer than Dust to accept the situation fully, but Killer managed to work it out.

Horror is much chiller about what is going on. He didn't seem surprised at Dust's reaction and even less at Killer joining the 'parent-camp' with Dust.

Maybe there is just something wrong with him... it wouldn't be the first time...

Cross sighs as they stop by the plaza and manage to just see the house that Horror and Killer should be robbing. "well, either way we are soon out of time and will have been unsuccessful" great. the one thing they had to do was get Nightmare a spare outfit. They didn't even need to try shoes and-

Dust freezes "fuck."

Cross turns "what is wrong?" as he says it he sees Dust eye the plaza around them, all while he ducks further and further behind the fountain as Nightmare shakes.

Dust looks around the plaza "Stars. All three." he glares "empty... can't make a break for it using the crowd as cover..."

and a teleport would be too loud and will clue them in on them being here. Fuck indeed.

Cross sneaks a look and sees the three skeletons talk and converse casually. the rattling from Nightmare is a sign of pure fear and Cross feels himself grow worried even as he texts Horror and Killer about their emergency.

How... how would they react to Nightmare being a child? Dream had already made it clear that he thought Nightmare was corrupted and none of his brother had remained. What would he do if he saw Nightmare?

Best case scenerio would be him kidnaping Nightmare and locking him away... Worst case just... dusting him. Make sure Nightmare never becomes the powerful being he can be.

Cross notices that they have been seen as Dream looks shocked while Blue waves and starts to shout "Hey! DUst and Cross!" Cross acts as if he didn't hear or noticed them.

Cross stares at Dust "What do we do-"

and Dust just, undoes his own hoody. he pulls it over his head and even ignores the red scarf that falls to the ground next to Nightmare- wait when did Dust put Nightmare down.

Dust puts the hoody on Nightmare with one smooth motion and pulls the hoody up, he next uses the strings to make it tight and tests to make sure it doesn't come off easily.

Dust stares at Nightmare as he quickly puts on the scarf again "You just keep your face and skull against my shoulder and neck okay? Don't glance, don't react. Just act shy or asleep. Nothing will get you." and Dust picks him up again. Nightmare, without a single word, pushes his face into the soft scarf and together with the large hoody there is nothing visible that could be used to indentify him.

Holy shit that is so smart-

"Hey you two! We didn't expect to see you just hanging- what... is that?!" Blue looks beyond excited as he stares at the tiny bundle that is Nightmare. Cross feels his anxiety and panic turn hotter into a raging fire. Dont. get. near. him.

Dust just shoots Blue a look and speaks in a quiet voice "sh. quiet."

Blue gives a sheepish look and speaks much softer "oh. I am sorry. The kiddo is tired?" Dust just nods.

Cross sees his change and nods as well "We were taking a quick break but were going to leave again." he can see Killer and Horror look through the window of the house they are robbing and sees them see their situation.

Blue looks sad but nods "Yeah. I get that-"

Ink interrupts him "How did you two get a child?!"

Dream looks suspicious but doesn't say anything.

Fuck, he can probably feel Nightmare's fear doesn't he? and he wouldn't know it is fear directed at the Stars... Oh no.

Dust raises a brow and doesn't even bother to answer as he starts to take a few steps back, away from the Stars. Cross cna see that Horror is climbing down the side of the house as Killer glares at the Stars.

Ink gasps "I knew it! You two kidnaped a child!" he holds out his hands "Hand the child back and we will find their parents!"

Dust growls as he steps further back.

Cross panics and answers without thinking "We didn't steal him! He is Dust's you idiots!"

dead. silence.

The three Stars look shocked at Cross and Cross can actually see both Horror and Killer also stare at him in shock.

Ink snorts "Really? and who is the other parent?"

Cross huffs "First off, you don't nessesarily need two parents to make a child, learn basic monster biology first before making claims. second, obviously it is" think think think think think just say something! "me." NO NOT THAT!

The silence of before is NOTHING compared to the silence now. Cross is actually sure he can hear a pin drop in one of the stores around them at the moment.

No one moves and it doesn't help that Cross can see both Dust and Nightmare shoot him incredulously glances.

Oh please someone shoot him because Horror even pauses his own climb to shoot him a raised eye brow while Killer is ACTUALLY wiggling his eye brows at him.

Just end him. Please his mind did not work with him. He had just been thinking so much about how everyone had been treating Ngihtmare and how he saw the situation.

Dream is the one who coughs and looks to the side awkwardly "oh. wow. euh... congrats? I didn't realise you two were... you know... an item." please please please please shut up. "and a babybones as well! Wow! That is... unbelieveable!"

Blue nods "Yeah! No one knew!"

Cross still can't find the words and is actually afraid of what he will say next. Dust however shrugs and has managed to pull his face back in his normal bored look "prefer privacy. it is no ones business." and he raises a brow at them.

Blue smiles brightly "of course! We won't tell others. stars knows everyone wants a quiet moment nowadays..."

Dream nods before quickly changing the subject "right! We were just curious what you two were doing out and-" he looks horrifed "Oh stars... you two are on a date! A fmaily date! and we crushed it and interrupted it and we are so sorry!"

Cross suddenly understands why Chara and Gaster would use the reset and overwrite power. please just let him change this moment to have been anything else. please.

Dust hums and shrugs. Not really answering any question.

Dream still looks embarrassed "anyway! we... euh... well... were wondering what you were doing. Now we know that that is great! euh... So... my brother just... doesn't mind this?"

Any embarrassement disappears. Hot rage in his body. Cross glares as his crosses his arms.

Dream sputters but continues "you know... be is so against positivity... and this... this is a beautiful and wonderful thing! Doesn't he...isn't he..." he smiles sheepish.

Cross glares "no. He doesn't. In matter of fact. He is very fine with the situation at hand. very willing to help in a way he can." Cross isn't even lying. While Nightmare doesn't like having been changed back he isn't diffficult anymore and more than happy to stick with Dust, and them all, now. Nightmare is also not fussy when out and about on missions and aside from being grumpy he is a perfect good babybones.

Dust nods "you should stop talking about people you know nothing about." he looks at Cross "lets go. he is tired."

Cross nods and sees Horror sign at Killer to get down as well. Killer shrugs and just lets himself fall from the third floor right into Horror's arms. The two disappear into some side street.

Cross nods and looks at Dust "you first." Cross will just walk behind Dust and make sure the Stars don't get any glimbs near the end.

Dust nods and turns easily as he walks away, Cross can see how Dust changes the hand mid turn and Nightmare sinks a little lower. Making it that his skull doesn't even peak over Dust's shoulder.

They walk away in silence and take many turns to get some distance. As soon as Cross is sure the Stars can't hear or see them he says so. Which causes Dust to nod before sprinting, Cross is quick to follow.

They reach the edge of town in record time and Cross glances back "okay. we are good. we are fine... we got out."

Dsut nods before looking at him very amused "we made a babybones?"

Cross feels himself grow warm for so many reasons as he sputters "I panicked! I am sorry I implied we were- that we did!" he hides his face.

Dust chuckles and pats his shoulder "It is fine."

Cross relaxes and smiles in thanks.

Dust raises a brow "Killer will never let you live this down."

Cross groans "just end me."

Dust hums "I don't know. I don't think killing the other parent of my child works in my favour." he grins so goddamnit amused.

Cross is never going to hear the end of this.

*-----------------*

First: here Prev: here Next: here

Cross was so close to soul-adopting Nightmare but then the Stars interrupted and Cross panicked.

Also, important. Noticed how Cross only apologised for implying he and Dust made the babybones together? But not that he is a parent? Cross is getting there. It will just take him a while.

[wingfooted]

Kuroshitsuji -Public School Arc- OP ➺The Parade of Battlers, 音羽-otoha-

[endrimer]

[mt07131]

➤ NOW PLAYING: CLOSE TO THE EDGE // MAEVE MERCAR X LUCANIS DELLAMORTE (x)

[wtowingedtragicobsidian]

Megumi is struck by a rare playful mood and bothers Itadori

Megumi had been peacefully laying on the couch watching the nature channel after a long day of training. Had. Up until about 7 minutes ago when Itadori arrived to fight him over the limited cushion real estate he had monopolized. After it became clear Megumi was not, in fact, going to move, Itadori had decided to just lay on top of him in protest. A bit of begrudged shuffling later and they were actually resting pretty comfortably. Itadori’s head was tucked into his chest as Megumi lazily carded a hand through his fluffy pink and black hair, while the other boy stared at the screen. Which he had changed to sitcom reruns sometime during their initial squabble and then had tossed the remote out of reach, likely as another sign of protest. Not that Megumi could do anything about that now.

As Megumi plays with Itadori’s hair his fingertips start to absentmindedly travel down the other boy’s neck to his back and, did Itadori shiver at that? Megumi traces his fingers across Itadori’s left shoulder blade, earning himself a little “mrmph” of protest as the other boy reflexively twitches away from the contact.

Maybe he could do something about that now.

Megumi drags his nails across his back to his right shoulder blade this time and feels Itadori shudder again.

“Fushiguro that tickles,” Itadori complains into his chest.

Megumi stops.

For a whole of 3 seconds before the pettiness overcomes him and he runs his fingers quickly down Itadori’s spine, who lets out a squawk and scrambles up, boxing Megumi into the couch under him.

“Hey! That tickles!”  Itadori says more insistently,  like Megumi didn’t hear him the first time.

“Yeah. I know. You told me,” Megumi replies dryly, “But you didn’t tell me to stop.”

Itadori sputters at that and might be saying more but Megumi wouldn’t know, he’s not paying attention anymore. Itadori’s shirt got askew in the mad scramble to escape his hands and is currently hanging off his body, exposing a sliver of bare waist.

More importantly Itadori forgot to pin his arms.

The face Itadori makes when he realizes his fatal mistake and that Megumis’ hands are now poised over his waist is nothing short of gold. His entire body goes stiff and he’s chewing nervously at the inside of his bottom lip while trying and failing to stare Megumi down. Megumi just raises his eyebrows in response, as he lets the edges of his nails brush past Itadori’s skin, causing Itdaori to tremble trying to suppress a reaction. But his eyes give him away.

Megumi reaches up past the other boy’s shirt and flutters his hands down his hips to his waistband, causing the other to all but moan in response, hanging his head in defeat.

A beat passes. Even with just the tv light Megumi can see Itadoris’ ears are burning and he hopes naively that his face is faring better. But then, with his face still hidden in shame, Itadori growls at him,

“Oh, it is so on.”

One short tickle fight and explosion of shadow bunnies later, Itadori is panting over Megumi victoriously. He remembered to pin his hands this time.

“I win.”

 “I’m not done yet,” Megumi grumbles incredulously in response.

“Yeah, right. I still won.”

Itadori leans back, releasing the other boys’ hands and smiling a bit cockily, but no less wholesomely, down at him.

Megumi stares up at him, mildly amazed that the shit lighting from the tv somehow doesn’t detract from his ability to make out the glowing smile the other boy throws around too freely, at the rise and fall of his chest and the faint glimmer of sweat on his skin that’s lightly flushed. And suddenly Megumi is very uncomfortably aware that the inside of Itadori's thigh is straddled against his hips and that Itadori is very much on top of him, sitting directly above his lap.

-shit, please no, don’t make this a problem-

“Ok, yeah, you win. Now get offa me, I gotta use the restroom."

Thankfully, Itadori doesn’t contest the call of nature and lets Megumi up. After a quick leak Megumi is perhaps disproportionately relieved that there was not in fact a problem as he pads back into the room.

Itadori has acquisitioned the couch in his absence and is now chuckling along with the laugh track of whatever is playing. Megumi is about to turn around when Itadori notices him and open his arms, “Fushiguro.”

Shit.

[screamin-abt-haikyuu]

I don't think anything can ever beat Haikyuu for me. And I don't think I can ever express my feelings about it in words. No matter how many times I rewatch it, it just makes my heart swoon. My happy place. I'm glad I exist in this exact timeline where I got to witness it like this.

[selfhealingmoments]

[s4pphic-sh3nan1gans]

I'M SO FUCKING HAPPY BAMBIE THUG GOT THROUGH AAAAAA

[healpimp]

If you are ever in doubt wether my posts with demo and soldier interacting are boots n bombs or not i promise you it is intended to be fully and utterly homosexual

[dandelion-wings]

for whumptober: jean or lisa for “magic with a cost”? thank you!!

Thank you for the prompt! :> I was going to just go with Lisa because I've done less whump for her, but somewhere along the development process I went, "why not both?" Which made twisting Lisa's arm (c.f. yesterday's post) that extra bit harder, but it was fun to do! I hope you enjoy it too.

---

Even an illustrious member of the Hexenzirkel can make mistakes at times.

Lisa hadn't been thrilled when Alice co-opted the doors to the restricted section to install a passage to her Theater Lobby. The guests passing in and out of the library are not always quiet, and it makes entering the actual restricted section *much* more difficult. The one advantage is that now, everyone who's poked and prodded her over the years as to what may be down there now believes that it was Alice's little play-place the whole time. Only a handful of people know otherwise.

Unfortunately, the restricted section doesn't just hold books. Not everything there has dealt well with having such strong, otherworldly magic nearby, and Alice... well, Lisa has long known that Alice doesn't bother to cleanly seal her spells. Klee isn't a patch on her mother when it comes to collateral damage.

Though that seems a bit too understated a term for what they're looking at.

"What *is* it?" Jean asks, her voice hushed with horror. "Something of the Abyss?"

"No," Lisa tells her. "I'm not impressed with the Hexenzirkel right now, but I must admit they're very good about keeping Abyssal influences out of any space they decide to meddle with. They would never take the easy way out when making a new domain."

Not that Jean likely knows that partitioning off a space where the leylines touch the more malleable space of the Abyss *is* the easiest way to make a domain. Jean isn't here for her expertise, but because she had been the first one Klee had found to report that there was "something funny" behind the door. In the real space behind the door, not Alice's portal.

Jean is also the only other person currently present in Mondstadt who's actually allowed into the restricted section, or to know what everything in it *is*. She, like Varka, has a general understanding of the tomes and artifacts kept here; unlike Varka, she's put effort into learning which ones are most dangerous and why instead of just asking Lisa to keep an eye on them all. Lisa can sure she's trying desperately to match this sprawling mass, glittering tendrils of elemental energy creeping out of the room it's in to dig into the walls and floor and ceiling, with her own mental inventory of the place.

For her own part, Lisa feels almost preternaturally calm. When they had rounded the corner and seen this glittering maelstrom bulging out of the room it had been in, door torn down and mostly subsumed into the mass--it is, after all, mostly Dendro--she had been terrified for one hot, awful second, the taste of metal all down her throat. Lisa can't think of any better way to have a Nail hammered into the city than to let an unauthorized branch of Irminsul, laden with the forbidden knowledge concealed beneath the Ordo, arise within its walls.

Then she had remembered Jean behind her, and Klee waiting anxiously up in the library, and Sucrose in the lab next door, and Noelle dusting upstairs. All the knights in and around this building. All the people of Mondstadt, going calmly about their daily lives. That was when the calm had fallen. She doesn't know how long it will last, but she'll make every second count.

"*This* actually comes from one of the restricted books themselves. The Lawrences collected many books about magic in their attempts to more and more strictly control Mondstadt. A few thought they could somehow become the next Decarabian. But, well, when you're collecting books about foul magics, sometimes the book *is* the foul magic. This one was written in elementally-charged ink on paper woven in part out of Petrified Trees. Which is a very foolish thing to do. All you need is some resin... which I'm sure Alice used in her own work."

"So when Alice designed her Theater, there was enough resin in it for this to revitalize? Like a tree in a Domain?" Jean asks.

"Yes," Lisa says, proud as she would be of any student making a connection between what they've been told and what they already know, "very good. Not in the same way, of course. But once it woke, it started to take root and seek for leylines. That takes elemental energy, so it's consuming all it can from the environment. You can see how it's going after the Geo in the walls now. There was Dendro in the other books in there, so I suppose they've all been lost."

She sighs in regret. The knowledge they'd held might not have been forbidden, but there was a reason the Librarians of the Ordo had spent generations keeping those books hidden underground, safe from Celestia's gaze. What was in there might have had value, someday, in helping defend Mondstadt against threats the gods would rather they not even know exist.

"All right." Jean's voice is stronger now that she feels she has a handle on the situation. "What can we do about it?"

Her eyes shadowed with worry, but her hand flexes with eager impatience on her sword's hilt. Through the fear and false calm, Lisa almost smiles. Of course it was *'we'*, even though Jean has no idea what she faces or what to do. She won't abandon this to Lisa's expertise.

Perhaps it's unfair to let Jean participate, young and unknowing as she is. Lisa knows what taking control of this situation will cost anyone involved in it. She has paid that fee before, for a much more foolish cause. It would be kinder to tell Jean to step aside and tell her there's nothing she, unskilled in magic, could do. Jean is full of the kind of potential that Lisa has long since burnt out; isn't it waste to risk burning that, too, when Lisa could in theory bear the full cost? But she's too selfish to refuse.

"We'll need a seal. A very strong one. Luckily, that's something I'm very good at. Unluckily... making it will be very dangerous for us both."

Two years of helping Cyrus seal Hermanubis, over and over, until it stopped breaking through to overwhelm Cyno and he could develop his own control. She'd done a great deal of research in those two years. Along with all the other learning she'd been doing at the Akademiya, of course.

She had left her notes for them when she left the Akademiya, and Cyrus and Cyno far surpass her now. But this thing is taking root far too fast. There's no time to send for either. There's only what Lisa knows, from all that research and from one painful trial, about containing anything that feeds on elemental energy. It has to be blocked off before it *does* reach the leylines. There are no emergent outcroppings in the city, or close around it, thank Barbatos (quite literally, Lisa suspects), but if the roots continue to lengthen, they'll eventually reach deeper flows.

"What will we need?" Jean asks, as if Lisa hadn't said a word about danger. She's so charmingly reliable in moments like these.

"That adorable book Alice gave Klee as her catalyst," Lisa tells her, not without regret. "And two more catalysts from the armory. If we have a copy of the 'Skyward Atlas', I would prefer that, but I know we have copies of 'Sacrificial Fragments' and 'The Widsith,' and both of those would work. I already have my Favonius Codex," she adds tapping the familiar tome, passed down from one Ordo Librarian to another over the centuries.

It, like Klee's book, will be a shame to sacrifice, but she's written out copies of what it contains, just as her predecessors have before her. Those are locked away down here too. Binding a new copy in the requisite metals for magical channeling is simple enough.

Jean nods, salutes her, and turns to rush back up the hall to the stairs.

That leaves Lisa to begin designing the seal. This is going to have to be a strong one. *Very* strong, to lock this would-be leyline tree in. Fortunately, it doesn't have to literally encompass the sprouting mess in front of her; it just needs to do so symbolically. Otherwise, Cyno would have had to stand in the middle of a seal diagram for most of his childhood. Such seals rely on the caster's will to give that symbol force.

Will, and magical energy. If Lisa was relying on her Vision, that would be enough for this--the elemental strength she can bring to bear with it, reinforced in this case by Celestia's magic locking the energy that flows through Visions into a rigid and obedient course, would do the job, though it might cost her Vision to do so. That's a price Lisa, ambivalent about that very power, would be willing to pay alone. But an elementally-fueled seal would only serve as more sustenance for this sprout. This one has to rely on another source.

Very little magic in the modern era doesn't rely on the elements. Even when scholars speak of "old techniques," they're talking about herbalism, which still involves the elemental affinities of certain plants, or tapping the leylines, which remains an occasional if dangerous recourse for those without Visions but had been much more common before the Cataclysm. But there are even older techniques from before the establishment of the Thrones, some still practiced in various cultures under the guise of traditional healing, or martial arts, or superstitious rituals, that draw on another source entirely.

Her own lifeforce isn't a price Lisa *wishes* to pay. Neither if Jean's, whether or not she's willing--which of course she is, as a Gunnhildr, even if she doesn't fully understand the danger Lisa had mentioned. The danger Lisa isn't willing to explain, too close to old memory, too likely to rouse the fear that she's barely holding back.

Lisa draws her seal slowly, carefully, refusing to let that fear, however bitter in her throat, impede her work. She does use her Vision to crack two blocks in the walls, creating niches where she can set the catalysts she'll use as anchor-points. Her Codex she goes ahead and sets on the floor beneath one niche before drawing the appropriate lines around it.

Sumeran seals tend to use threes, Liyue prefers sevens, and Inazuma likes fives. Khaenri'ah was emphatically locked into pairs, and Fontaine has a terrible, unstable tendency to use just one anchor-point that Lisa hopes will change now that it's nearly wiped them out. Mondstadt doesn't have a sealing tradition in the first place as far as the Akademiya is concerned, but Lisa knows better. What else are the Four Winds and their Temples?

"I have them," Jean says, appearing behind her with her arms full of books.

The armory did have a Skyward Atlas; Lisa places it above the Codex, and Klee's book in the other niche. She hesitates between the small stack of copies of Sacrificial Fragments (ones Lisa had very precisely copied herself, each blurred and illegible line, while demanding exact replicas from Wagner for the binding) and the single copy of The Widsth before choosing one of the first. It may matter that it's in her own hand.

"It's growing fast," Jean says, audibly unnerved.

Lisa had been deliberately keeping her eyes averted as she worked. Now she looks. The tendrils have grown thicker, plunging deep into the stone--not breaking it, but absorbing it as they go. The door is gone, and the mass is taking on the distinct shape of a trunk. There are at least three questing taproots.

"We'll take care of *that*," Lisa tells her. She reaches up to undo her Vision from her throat, passing it back to Jean. "Our Visions will only get in the way. Set them by the exit, please. Mine will reinforce the wards on that door nicely, just in case."

She feels naked without her Vision. Even with all her suspicions about what it is, what it means, the cost of using it, it's still a part of her, and a well-worn and familiar tool. Which is why she can't risk drawing upon it in a panic.

Facing the burgeoning growth before her, Lisa breathes in deeply, tasting more bile bitter and metallic in her throat. By the time Jean returns, she has the shape of what they need in her mind.

"We need to extend this seal to encompass the whole root, and block it off," Lisa tells her, and holds out her hand. "Put your right hand within the circle on the wall, and your right foot within that one on the floor. Good." Lisa follows suit on the left. "Now, look with your Elemental Sight. Can you see the seal?"

"The square closing off the hall? It has no elemental signature...."

"If it hadn't already started eating the walls and Albedo wasn't up on Dragonspine, Geo might have worked. Though with that much Dendro, I doubt it. The technique we're using does have a physical cost," Lisa adds, because it wouldn't be fair not to warn her. "We both may end up incapacitated, or worse, when it's over, but we have to put up with it until the end unless we want this to go *very* badly."

Jean squares her shoulders and straightens her spine. "If that is so, place as much of the burden onto me as you can. I am the better suited. Though I mean no offense."

The fond affection that warms Lisa at that so-characteristic declaration is tinged with guilt. "None taken, cutie. Now, focus on the right-hand corners of the square, and imagine them pushing outward, into the corners of a box. Try to do so as you imagine the dandelions of your breeze," she adds, aware of Jean's personal mnemonics, "so that it will manifest in your Sight."

Jean nods and sets her jaw, and Lisa feels the seal start to shift. Lisa has to moderate her own efforts to match Jean's pace and not deform the spell. Already Lisa can feel energy starting to siphon out of her, a gradual lethargy like an afternoon slump, not yet the torrent she knows will come.

The far corners of the box slide past the trunk, laying out the dimensions of a boundary not yet formed. "Stop," Lisa says, and Jean stops pushing, holding steady, maintaining position with a warrior's rather than a mage's discipline. It's good enough. "Now the walls of the box. This will be the hard part. That tree is aware enough to resist."

"We won't let it pass," Jean vows.

Already, the tendrils are reaching further, closer to the intended boundary. "Jean, *now.*"

Walls shimmer into existence in their Elemental Sight. For a moment they simply glow, clear and white, not yet fully solid, but drawing more and more strength. Lisa blinks against the growing lethargy of it. Then a creeping tendril brushes against one forming barrier.

Confused, curious, more tendrils react out, seeking along the boundaries of its confinement for a way through. They pause for a considering moment as they determine there is none. And then the roots *erupt*.

The tendrils lash against the barrier of the seal, and Lisa hears Jean cry out. Her side holds steady, though, even against such onslaught. Lisa's waver as she feels her skin ripping open, as if she herself had borne the lash. She gasps, tasting iron, and steadies them by force of will.

"This will harden them," she manages to say, "but it will get worse," and then she starts to recite the verbal seal.

More tendrils slam against the walls of the box, and more open welts bloom with them. Lisa's voice falters. Ripples appear, on her side, where the tendrils rake the seal.

She can feel Jean reaching out within their joint working, the visualization that's far closer to what Jean has trained in before, and take hold of Lisa's half of the box. Taking more of the burden, as she'd asked. With guilty relief, Lisa lets the brunt of that go and focuses on the chant.

Her fingertips and toes are beginning to tingle. Fatigue, not merely lethargy, creeps into her bones. Jean's fingers tighten on hers in a way that suggests she can feel the numbness, too, while welts continue to split her flesh. Lisa adjusts her grip to hold her wrist. They can't lose this connection.

The walls are holding strong by the force of a Gunnhildr's will. Word by word, Lisa hardens them further. They begin to take solid form, almost, *almost* visible without Sight as well as through it. The tendrils beat harder against them, those three thick taproots trying to bore through. Jean sets her jaw, only a low moan escaping through gritted teeth. Her breath hitches, then steadies.

Under Lisa's tingling fingertips, her pulse hitches, too. Hitches, steadies, then hitches again, beating too-fast and uneven, fluttering and frantic with more than just the palpitations of fear and fatigue. Lisa tastes iron again, and this time the terror isn't for herself.

"Jean, let go," she says, between verses of the chant. "I can finish this alone."

Jean's grip tightens around her wrist. "I will not fall before this is done."

Lisa feels the walls soften and takes up another round of the spell, but she dares a sideways look at Jean as she does. She's white-faced where her cheeks haven't cracked bloodily open, and her lips are going blue. The clumsiness of her grip says that the numbness must be all through her hands, and she has the wide-legged stance of the unsteady.

She is the stronger of them, it's true. Physically, she has more stamina. But she runs close to her limits all the time, no days at peace, no time to recover. Lisa hoards her strength and barely ever expends it. She has more reserves than Jean has endurance.

Twisting her arm free, she slams her elbow into Jean, pushing her backwards. Jean stumbles, crying out in fear and horror as her foot leaves its circle, and her hand slips from the niche. Lisa steps into them, spread-eagle, and seizes all four points of the seal.

For a moment the box's corners weaken. Sensing weakness, the tendrils lash out again. Lisa feels her skin split, raw and red, and doesn't try to hold back her scream. Then she launches shakily back into the spell. One more chorus--two more, maybe, with the interruption--and it *will* take permanent form.

Numbness crawls up her arms, up her legs, tingling at her joints and beginning to tighten her scalp and turn her face to rubber. It's worse than the welts, though at least she can't feel them in the spots where it touches. The fatigue crushes downward; she can feel the drop through her body as it tries to crash into unconsciousness, jerks her head up against it, and feels her heart hammer with adrenaline as fear and fury buy her the time to recite the last line of the last round of the spell.

The Skyward Atlas and Klee's Dodoco Tales are gone from beneath her hands, the Favonius Codex and Sacrificial Fragments no longer at her feet. Barriers shimmer into place between the eight anchor-points of a Hypostasis-perfect cube. The tendrils flail wildly and the remaining chunks of wall within the box melt into pure Geo, the sprout consuming the last dregs of elemental energy it can touch. Then, its taproots having failed to set, it starts to dissolve.

"Give it a few hours, and we can take that back down. Though we'll have to do something about that hole it's left behind," Lisa says, and then the drop hits again and this time takes her with it, right into Jean's arms.

She's only fully out for a moment, though she's groggy and fuzzy-headed as Jean hauls her up to the section door, lays her down, and summons up a breeze from her Vision. The scent of dandelions revives her. The open welts still burn, tender and raw, but the breeze has at least stopped their bleeding. Her limbs and face and scalp are still numb.

As are Jean's. Lisa can see her, breathing steadily and easily now, pinching her own fingers. "Is this permanent?" she asks with all the worry of a knight who depends upon her body's skills.

"No, cutie," Lisa assures her, heady enough with relief to give her an indulgent smile. "It may last a few weeks, though, so you'll just have to take a break until it fades." She tries to reach out and take Jean's pulse, but she can't feel it, either; she'll have to trust in the color coming back to her face, and insist they follow up with Barbara as soon as they're able to leave. "I do mean you'll *have to*. If you don't rest and recover now, you may pay for it for the rest of your life. I have some experience on the subject."

"You do? That would explain.... Is this why you're so often tired?" Jean looks at her with too-keen eyes.

Lisa smiles up at her. "One of the reasons. Don't worry, Jean. The last time I did something like this, I was all alone. There's much less risk when working together."

"I am grateful you allowed me to take it on at your side, for so long as I could," Jean says, reaching out to clumsily grasp Lisa's hand.

She squeezes it, the pressure dull and distant through layers of nerveless skin. Lisa squeezes back as best she can.

"I couldn't have done it without you," Lisa tells her, and feels the truth of that, the relief of that, humming in her chest.

[armor-eater]

I’m finally caught up and bro. All the fandom has been going on and on about how horrible Shuro is but like. He’s not bad at all ???

I honestly like him! He’s awkward in his own way and so repressed that it’s insane. I usually hate any of the men whose whole thing is ‘I’m hopelessly in love with a woman who doesn’t seem to really know I exist’ but Shuro seems so sincere about it. He truly likes Falin, and respects her a lot! He’s just so repressed that he doesn’t seem to realize that he’s doing the same thing Laois was doing- making assumptions about how close they were and not realizing that their two cultures had differences in what’s appropriate. 

Yes, I don’t think he truly knows Falin and only thinks he loves her (well, he does love her but it’s more of he loves the idea of her) but I also don’t think he hates Laois as much as it seems. Laois just annoys the piss out of him. The real reason they fought was because Shuro was worried about Falin- a worry that is incredibly well founded!

Idk, there’s plenty of things to be annoyed about with him but I think the fandoms being a little rough on him.

[harrowscore]

why are you, as an adult in 2024, still hung up on reylo. why are you still mocking the shippers. why do you believe yourself to be superior only because you dislike a stupid ship from a fucking space fairytale. girl (gnc) get a grip

[divinebunni]

i don’t know who needs to hear this but good men do exist, they are soft and gentle and respectful, they hold you when you cry and pet your hair and place gentle kisses over your whole body and learn every little thing they can about you and strive to keep you safe and be a friend as well as a lover and they treat everyone and animals with respect and don’t say misogynistic sexist racist phobic things and they sing with you loudly in the car and let you braid their hair as practice and say i love you without you having to say it first and express their love for you in front of everyone and they look at you deeply and support your every decision and lowest moment and wish nothing but greatness for your health and mental betterment and treat women and men and all with such kindness. good men exist, good men deserve the same love and respect and kindness and support that you would give to anyone with a good soul. good men understand, and they will always be here with genuine hearts

[lightstar789]

If y’all aren’t boycotting Season 5 of stranger things y’all are dead to me