#it doesn't seem like it was that horrible

[howi99]

From the Nest 22

- morning -

Jaune: *sigh, looking at the empty spot where team RWNY usually sit* ... I hope Weiss is alright-

Weiss: *opening the doors of the cafeteria dramatically, then spotting Jaune* ... *Walk towards him, without a word*

Jaune: *wince* Weiss, i'm sorry for what i said yesterday and-

Weiss: *slamming down her palm on the table, looking him straight in the eyes* Jaune, i need you to come with me!

Jaune: *blink* ... Sorry?

Weiss: *sigh* I talked with my sister yesterday; Seems like everything you said was true!

Blake: *rolling her eyes, mumbling to herself* So when the faunus told you it was fake news, but when a human does it's true?

Weiss: *confused by Blake hostility* I don't- that's not- why do-

Blake: *sigh* Nevermind, carry on.

Weiss: I-... *shake her head, looking back at Jaune* I'll cut to the chase; l need to learn how to fight without dust! *Bit her lip* I... I can't, in good conscience, continue to support my father's actions and-

Jaune: *Panicking* Woah! Weiss! You don't have to change your fighting style because of your father! That's suicide!

Weiss: *looking down* But what he does is horrible and-

Ren: *calmly pat her back* Weiss, i know your company as the quasi-monopole of the industry, but there are still others you could buy from.

Weiss: *sigh* Like who? I never heard of anyone else who weren't scams.

Nora: *lighting up* Oh, there's the CDC! They aren't big, but that's where me and Ren bought our dust from!

Jaune: *smile* Oh yeah, those guys! They bought back some of the camps we kept raiding. *Nod* They ain't bad.

Weiss: *confused* The CDC? *Pensive* I... Don't think i ever heard of them.

Blake: The Coal Dust Company is the only dust company allowed to trade with Menagerie. *Shrug* Since most of their clientele are faunus, that's probably why you never heard of them; they aren't competing with the SDC.

Weiss: *pensive* I see... *Shake her head* Nonetheless, i wish to learn how to fight without relying solely upon dust.

Jaune: *sigh* Weiss, i don't know why you think i should be the one teaching you how to fight without dust considering i rely on it constantly.

Weiss: *confused* What do you mean?

Jaune: *removing his boots* Look inside.

Weiss: ... *Sniffing them, turning slightly green* They smell...

Jaune: *rolling his eyes* You don't have to put your nose inside! Look at the fabric inside!

Weiss: *taking a look* ... Gravity dust?

Jaune: *taking back his boot* I can't Jump like any of you; my aura control is atrocious. So instead i use these to be an immovable object. And that's the case with almost all of my fighting gears.

Blake: *frown* But your semblance-

Jaune: *cutting her* My INNER aura control, i meant. *Manifest his aura, reaching all around him up to 2 meters* I'm a master at projecting my aura outward, but inward? *Shake his head* I can heal myself and... *Shrug* that's about it.

Nora: *looking at her leader with a puzzled expression* You smashed Cardin through a table and then literally threw him hard enough to break a SECOND table! How-

Ren: *nonchalantly* Jaune is ripped.

Everyone: *look at Ren*

Ren: ... What? You do realize we change together, right?

Blake: ... *Picking up her notebook* How ripped are we talking about?

Ren: *pensive* Hm... I'd say enough to make Nora or Yang blush.

Nora: DAMN! *Look back at Jaune with a grin* Sleeper build much, eh?

Weiss: *frown* But that doesn't make any sense! Outward manifestation is far harder to master!

Jaune: *Sigh* From what my teacher told me, it's due to the way i unlocked my semblance. *Cutting Nora before she could say anything* And before you ask, i'm not going to say how i unlocked it. Bad memories.

Nora: ... *Smile gently with a nod* It's fine, i understand.

_ _ _

Weiss: *sigh, walking back towards the dorm* Who should i ask? *Sigh again* Jaune's out, i certainly can't fight like Yang, so who-

Pyrrha: Hey, Weiss!

Weiss: *looming at Pyrrha, who was walking towards the gym* Oh, hey Pyrrha...

Pyrrha: *tilting her head* Is everything alright?

Weiss: *sigh* Yeah, i just... I asked Jaune about tips to fight without dust, but that was a bust.

Pyrrha: *smile gently* You still don't want to use dust anymore?

Weiss: *shake her head* They made me change my mind on that, but i still think i should diversify my arsenal, you know? *Chuckle awkwardly* I mean, you don't use dust at all and yet you can kick everyone's butt so easily.

Pyrrha: *shrug* I don't mind helping you out, you know? Showing you the ropes.

Weiss: *frown, looking at Pyrrha* You... Don't?

Pyrrha: *chuckle* Why would i? We are friends!

Weiss: *blink* We... are?

Pyrrha: *confused* We aren't?

Weiss: *shuffle in place* I-i mean, i just... I thought you didn't really like me much. You weren't really thrilled by me being in your team, right?

Pyrrha: *scratch her neck, looking a bit guilty* Well, you were kinda... Intense, before initiation. But since then? *Smile* You never acted as if i was different from anyone else. *Sigh* Honestly, i was just afraid you'd put me on a pedestal.

Weiss: *confused* Why? You're good, but i'm pretty sure my sister could still beat you without problems. Or any real huntsman who deserves the title for that matter.

Pyrrha: *laugh* Not wrong there! *Sigh happily* Anyway, wanna join me for training? Yang's already waiting, but i doubt she'd mind you joining us.

Weiss: *nod with a wide smile* Of course! Let me grab my gears and i'll be right there!

[dreamwreaver]

Why are other people so focused on the "manipulative" nature of Charlie and Alastor's relationship? They only see it for the "bad" ship it supposedly is because of how the malicious character "takes advantage" of the innocent character. When it comes to Charlastor specifically, they reduce them to mere caricatures for the purpose making them seem like a horrible couple that could never work at all while only turning Alastor and Charlie complex if they are in separate relationships. The other ships are just as "manipulative" as Charlastor if not worse because of certain implications that come with the others so it frustrates me to no end that they deny any acknowledgement that Charlie and Alastor are conceptualized as foils to one another, therefore, making any chemistry the two share warranted.

It's misogyny plain and simple Nonny. Also, can I ask where explicitly Alastor has ever taken advantage of Charlie?

In the pilot he attempts to strike a deal with her and fails but agrees to her terms regardless. He films a commercial because she asked him to even though he hates modern technology (let's not even get into how he had all those photos of Charlie at the ready), handles Pentious yet again when he attempts to attack the hotel yet doesn't lay a finger on him when he returns as a new "resident" and in fact only threatens Vox who was already trying to keep him and Charlie apart. The dad episode? Not a single time especially not when he fobs off the only person still left from his living days because she put the hotel in danger.

Like is Alastor a manipulative bastard? Absolutely, but something I've noticed is that he tends to prey on peoples' senses of ego when he does. Let's look at how Husk reveals to Angel that he was once an overlord. That entire sequence shows an overconfident Husk playing against Alastor and losing because of how smug he starts out. At what point does Alastor ever act like that with Charlie? Never, because she's never overconfident in the way he preys upon. Her overconfidence is in the people around her and that's not something he can easily manipulate. And yes, would a good friend just have told her the exorcists' weakness without a deal? Sure. But again; this is Hell. The rules are different. Honestly the more "manipulative" one in their dynamic is Charlie and she's not even doing it on purpose! She's just causing him to act in a way he doesn't normally, and even made him feel something akin to fondness.

Oh no. How horrible of her. She's making him be a better person inadvertently. Dastardly.

[antianakin]

I'm a little annoyed that we never got any answer as to WHY the Ghorman Massacre was Mon Mothma's last straw, honestly. Like, yeah, it's very tragic and horrible, but it is also SO SO FAR from the Empire's first genocide. It literally STARTED with a genocide of the Jedi, and then the Kaminoans not long after, then a slow creeping genocide of the clones, then the Geonosians at some point, then the Lasat. And that's just counting what I can remember from high canon sources and doesn't count the oppression and enslavement of places like Ryloth and Kashyyyk and Lothal.

So why is Ghorman somehow SO MUCH WORSE than all of those other atrocities that it pushes Mon Mothma to not just entirely give up on politics as a way to fix things, but also to abandon her family and potentially put their lives at risk? If she makes herself public enemy #1, there's NO WAY the Empire doesn't immediately go after Perrin and Leida to interrogate them about her and what they did or didn't know about her loyalties and activities. Mon's already framed Perrin's gambling as a reason for the missing funds and now that she's an open rebel, this could easily implicate Perrin as a rebel, too. Leida's marriage to Davo is also involved in that whole affair, which could implicate her, as well, depending on how the Empire wanted to spin it. We get no indication that Mon Mothma is worried at all about what this choice will do to her family or that she has any kind of protections in place for them for the inevitable fallout of all of this.

I wanted to know why she decided it was worth it. Why now? Is it really the Ghorman Massacre or was it something ELSE and the Ghorman Massacre was just a good excuse to leave?

And instead we just get... nothing. Mon doesn't seem to consider her family at all when making this choice, and all she says about why she wants to leave is that she "can't take it anymore" and Bail decides the rebellion could use her leadership. This explains nothing about why this was a turning point for her and why she chooses to leave the way she does despite the consequences it will inevitably have for the people she ostensibly cares about still.

This is obviously a result of the compressed timeline and the time skips, and they're having to just hit the necessary story beats and mostly ignore the rest, and I get that, but it doesn't make it less frustrating for this immensely pivotal moment in Mothma's story to not get the exploration and attention it deserved.

[omegapheromone]

My omegaverse brain woke up from hibernation again and I just had more thoughts abt this, especially the "workplace-mandated scent patches/perfume" thing lol

Dystopian Omegaverse World where it's so normalized for ANY and EVERY customer service job to mandate all employees to use the "happy-ifying" perfume that companies atart mandating it just because people are so used to it that if a business DOESN'T mandate it and a customer service worker just has their own neutral scent, not particularly happy, just neutral but not stressed out either, people start wigging out and cancelling the company online because "they must be overworking their employees! They seem so tired and rude and uninviting! What a horrible company hashtag boycottthiscompany" when. Actually no the company is one of the few that DOESN'T overwork or torment their employees, it's just that people are SO used to everyone, especially customer service workers smelling like they're super happy All The Time. And because it's a smaller company they can't exactly fight the cancellation mob so they end up just having to mandate the perfumes too and that's how it becomes SUCH a norm that people start wearing those perfumes even if their workplaces don't mandate it, just because they don't want to cause problems for their workplace that could potentially risk them getting fired.

It just slowly becomes a weird societal norm where a NORMAL scent with no chemical joy added eventually gets stigmatized and people start perceiving normal pheromones as "too honest" or "depressing" because a normal scent fluctuates bc of them and a regular, un-altered scent of any dynamic generally acts as a cue to figure out how someone feels or what their mood or opinion is just as much as body language and speech are. And suddenly it's a dystopian hellscape where people are ALWAYS expected to seem super happy and nothing else, so normal neutral or fluctuating scents become uncomfortable and taboo. Depression and suicide rates keep rising and the government's solution is to prescribe more potent chemical happiness perfumes because of some pseudoscientific claims from a century ago that "you can affect your mood through your scent" meaning they think that by making yourself smell happy it will eventually MAKE you happy, but in reality a majority of people are extremely depressed and gloomy.

Slowly people start to believe it's a LUXURY to live a life where you don't NEED to make yourself smell happy, because you just are happy. And slowly it starts to dawn on anyone middle class and below that the ONLY ones who live like that are the 1% of ultra-wealthy people. A social movement starts where people start striking and protesting against mandates on scent enhancers/blockers, and eventually it gains so much momentum that anyone who smells even slightly like chemical happiness (and occasionally ones who are ACTUALLY just happy about something, -although generally people figure that one out as soon as the genuinely happy person gets frightened or upset from being harassed in public-) gets a target on their back, and for a while people swing to the other extreme of starting to block out their scents entirely out of fear that something makes them happy when in public and people start thinking they're either being exploited or someone who is exploiting others. Over time it evens out, sure, but that's when exploitative workplaces that refuse to change their mandates start forcing employees to sign agreements to not disclose that they're being forced to wear a scent enchancer. This becomes especially prevalent in entertainment and public personality related fields, as well as the adult industry (not just sex workers, but also exotic dancers, host clubs, etc other similar venues) and at times, by people whose job it is to attract customers to businesses, which sparks its OWN controversy because suddenly the smell of (artificial/fake) happiness is being associated with vanity and/or sexuality and/or greed, and another social movement starts, etc. I'm sure the general concept is clear enough.

Idk I just think this is actually a pretty neat idea for exploring the social issues around expectations, public vs private "self", exploitative practises in the service industry, etc... I feel like it'd be easy to write a whole social commentary on worker exploitation and the late-stage capitalist dystopia the world is becoming. Using omegaverse.

And I didn't even touch on the idea of how differently this would affect people of different dynamics, and how a dystopian social expectation of "always having to smell happy and approachable" would seriously mess with people, especially when it comes to dating and building deeper than surface-level relationships with other people. Loneliness would be a major problem for sure, but at the same time, you could use this kind of concept to explore gender inequality, sexual abuse & its ties to cultural norms, and overall abusive relationship dynamics via demonstrating how when everyone smells happy and agreeable all the time, consent isn't taken seriously because "you smell like you're liking it though" (which is already a whole thing with a lot of omegaverses where the "heats = consent" excuse is used by creeps, usually as a wonderful way for the writer/creator to explore themes of sexual abuse, exploitation and trauma and what ISN'T consent), and toxic or abusive potential partners become increasingly more difficult to "sniff out" (pun intended) BEFORE the relationship becomes abusive and almost impossible to escape from. Idk there's just a lot of potential for social commentary here, I feel like.

Ok so, between the recent psa about miscecanis scent and reblog of the incels of omegaverse, I can’t stop thinking about how the two would correlate in a verse.

Like, “Chad alphas” could say you need to go buck wild on the Axe so other alphas know what’s “your property” (which becomes yet another omega-repellent because of scent sensitivity). Or even the opposite, where they don’t use anything, like no hygiene At All, because “omegas like the musk” but they just??? Smell like BO?????

But that’s not to say omegas/betas are exempt from this!!!!!! You’re telling me you don’t think some omega incels wouldn’t over-scent all of their bags and shit to like, “allure people in the halls”, but it’s just a Lot and it’s Everywhere. Or even an insecure beta who’s like “can anyone even smell me?????” And it’s like, Yes Buddy, I Promise You We Did Before And Can’t Stop Now

Also just????? The role of actual perfumes in omegaverse. I’m sure they’d exist for so many reasons, but I just wonder like, how they’d be marketed or even placed. Because you’re supposed to place perfume right where scent glands would be normally so I feel like people have a Problem with that while for others that’s The Point, you know?

Idk this just became a ramble. Any thoughts/insights are appreciated :’D

Chai your mind...... this is so good

Niceguy McFedora-type alpha that showers once a month because they think it's unnecessary because your "natural scent" is supposed to be strong to show the "weak and fragile omegas" what a strong and ~healthy~ alpha that will Definitely Treat Them Well you are. (He always has a personal space radius of at least 5 meters or more and doesn't connect the dots)

Or the *ndrewwww t*te type alphas making a point to go to the gym and Not Shower every time they go anywhere in public as some sort of a ridiculous show of dominance and thinking the nasty looks they get from people is because other alphas are feeling insecure and Betas are envious, obviously the Omegas are just pretending to hate it but actually they're all going into heat right now all because of his ~mUsKy AlPhA sCeNt~ (no sir, I know you live in delusion about owning a porsche but this is public transit and your stink is making everyone gag in disgust)

The desperate yet insecure folk of any gender and dynamic buying ridiculously expensive perfumes modelled after celebrities' natural scents (like that one headcanon post) because they think the scent is what made the celebrity famous/desirable/attractive and so if they smell like them then maybe they will also get courted...

And man I'd feel a little bad for the betas thinking they have no desirable scent and trying to "make up for it" because of how much importance society places on alpha&omega scents (that tend to be slightly stronger, sure, but It's not like betas don't have scents!!) And how little betas are talked about in the context of pheromones/scent

Also YEAH on the perfume thing!!!

My own headcanon sort of separates scents into their own cathegories of like, there's the natural scent that's associated with pheromones, it's not the same as body odour from sweat, but also the pheromones are slightly different/separate in that pheromones can affect the qualities of the scent but not the actual scent itself? And then there's obviously body odour, and then on top of that, I think perfumes are often used to either mask or even enchance one's own scent. They'd probably be especially affirming for any transdynamic folks! But also I can imagine some people feeling like their natural scent should be sort of "private" or they just don't want people to pay attention to it, esp if it's very unique? so they'll use fragrances to change it somewhat. Also for people with weaker scents, it could be an insecurity so they'll use perfume to feel more confident?

Oh and I wanna talk more about my headcanon about the pheromone-natural scent relationship! I think pheromones are what cause and are affected by emotional responses, almost like having a sort of... "aura" or "energy" people can read? But pheromones so it's an actual thing. but I also imagine it could affect the actual scent a lot too! I'll use my own peony+peach combo to explain since I know it best, but for example, if I was angry or annoyed, the pheromones would probably make the scent appear slightly "sour", like a sour candy or a flower that's slightly past its best bloom but still emits a really strong scent that starts to smell almost a little "stinging"? Or if I was really content and happy, it'd be like freshly-bloomed peopny blossoms and sweet, perfectly ripe peaches.

Probably in heat the scent would turn more "warm" and "heated" as well as stronger, too, like sitting in a garden of peonies eating a peach dessert during a heatwave in the summer? (Also I just like using that analogy for my own scent a lot. Sitting in a Peony garden and eating peaches. Except in heat it'd be more like a heatwave and much stronger/warmer) Like almost a little overwhelming, but not necessarily in the same way that overusing axe body spray is overwhelming, more like... a heat-scent becomes sort of really thick and warm? And that's why it's so noticeable? Like so ripe it would be "tempting" or something, idk.

For example if someone's scent was "pine forest", and they went into rut, I imagine it'd also increase in intensity a lot. Like... maybe the scent of pine sap really intensifies and gets really "thick"? Or maybe it'd be like... if it rains during a heatwave so the smell is extra strong but also really warm. And maybe someone with a scent like that would smell more like a cold winter forest when they're irritated (which would also be a wonderful way to describe personality through scent- people whose scents turn "cold" and "wintery" being more likely to have that sort of stoic, cold anger than the more explosive hot-headed type bursts of anger...) and when they're content, it'd be like a camping trip in good weather somewhere deep in the woods where you feel safe and relaxed in nature?

Idk man I just like thinking about scents and how scents change based on pheromones & emotions........

I also think perfume could be used to permanently amplify some aspects of specific emotional states in scent. I imagine customer service workers or salespeople using a perfume that maybe doesn't change their scent, but makes them always smell really happy, inviting and nice for better sales results and a better customer experience (especially since I imagine customer service is probably still absolute hell, even in omegaverse... not like they'd actually be feeling very happy to deal with some Karens all day)

Or for people who want others to stay out of their way (bouncers, gangsters, idfk depends on the canon I imagine), they'd maybe use a perfume that makes their own scent always appear a little aggressive/stern, not in the challenging kind of way, but just so people get the idea that it's probably better not to mess with them

But also certain professions having bans on those kinds of things, or even requiring full on scent blockers to be used (especially prevalent in the medical field I imagine)... just. Yeah lots of thoughts on this!

[deadlyflames]

Klonnie Weekend – Arranged Marriage (From strangers to soulmates?)

I was slacking this weekend! I’m sorry Klonnie fam! This one shot is based off this post . Hope you guys like it!

AO3

Xxx

It was always the same dream, ever since she was a child.

She’s a little girl, standing in the middle of a meadow of purple flowers.

A young boy stands in front of her. She watches his dirty blond hair turn to gold in the sunlight as he bends down and ties something around her wrist.

He pulls back quickly once he is finished and his hands drop to his sides in clenched fists. The boy’s stormy blue eyes regard her with trepidation as she examines the bracelet he had tied off.

The design of the wooden pendant never changes and the details remain clear in her mind even after she wakes up. It’s shaped like a butterfly with the intricate designs carefully carved into the wings, attached to a simple leather strap.

No matter how many times she sees it, the bracelet makes her insides burst with a flurry of butterflies.

She can’t stop herself from smiling.

“It’s beautiful!” she declares as she holds her wrist up and admires the bracelet. “I love it.”

The boy looks up at her then with wide nervous eyes, a furious red blush staining his cheeks. “Really? Then you will accept it?” he asks her, and she can hear the tremble in his voice. He steps forward then and clutches her hands in his, almost desperately. “I know I’m no great warrior, but if your mother accepts the betrothal, I… I promise that I… I…”

Giggles bubble up from her lips and a warmth spreads through her as he fumbles through his declaration. “She already accepted it, silly. I heard her talking about it with your mother last night.”

Somehow, his stormy blue eyes get even wider and a small breath of leaves his lips.

“Oh.”

She giggles again. With his stunned state, she manages to slip her hand from his and holds her wrist and the bracelet protectively against her chest.

“You couldn’t take this back from me if you tried,” she says with a wide teasing smile as she starts to bounce on her toes. “Now I am yours and you are mine.”

He still holds her other hand in his and he squeezes it tightly as her words ring in the air. The wind picks up and the flowers and grass rustle with the breeze. A severity falls over his features and something both dark and vulnerable shines in his eyes.

“Do you promise?” There was no blushing or fumbling, and his voice seems darker and deeper. The words coil around her like a snake, and something about them feels binding.

The sky above them grows darker and the wind howls around them. The grip he still has on her hand becomes almost unbearably tight. He holds her hand as if she's a lifeline; as if he might float away if he lets her go.

“I promise,” she answers in a whisper. Despite the dread that knots in her stomach, she knows that she means it.

There is a relieved smile on his face, showing off his dimples, when he finally releases her hand.

Her fingers tingle slightly from how tightly he held them. She ignores it though and uses her fingertips to trace the wings of her butterfly pendant, while a soft smile curves at her lips.

She doesn’t know how the thought comes to her, but she knows he carved the piece himself. Just for her.

But when she looks up again the blue sky has been replaced by dark storm clouds and the boy’s face has changed. Like the sky above them, the blue of his iris turns black. Red veins crawl out around his eyes. Blood gushes from his mouth when his jaw jerks open in a silent scream and reveals his teeth have been replaced by horrible jagged fangs.

She reals back in horror and screams.

And that was always the moment when Bonnie would wake up.

Even though it doesn't repeat every night, she dreams of the scene often enough that she knows it has to have some kind of meaning.

When she’s a child, she doesn’t really understand it. The boy from the meadow is not someone she has ever known nor is his face one she has ever seen. The pendant never appears anywhere besides her dreams. The words were ones she never remembers saying (Betrothal? Who still talked like that?).

Bonnie thinks it might have been a scene from some movie she might’ve seen, though that doesn’t really explain why the dream keeps recurring.

Things change when she finds out she’s a witch. And when she sees a vampire’s face for the first time. She recognizes that the boy from the meadow had the same black eyes and fangs that Damon Salvatore shows her right before he rips out her throat.

Later, Bonnie finally brings the topic up with her Grams. The frown never leaves Sheila Bennett’s lips as Bonnie explains the dream from beginning to end.

“Some believe that dreams are memories,” Grams tells her after a long silence. “From another life.”

Another life. Could that have been the answer? Bonnie never really believed in past lives, but she supposes anything is possible in a world full of witches and vampires.

She idly wonders what that life had been. Who that boy had been to her.

“Do you believe that?” Bonnie asks.

Grams stares at her then with a strange look in her eyes. She looks at Bonnie in the way someone would look at a stranger they just barely recognized. Her gaze shifts over Bonnie’s face, as if she is searching for something in her features. Bonnie shifts uncomfortably under the stare.

Her Grams blinks and the strange look is gone as soon as it appears. She smiles softly as she brings her hand to Bonnie’s cheek. “When you get to my age, you start to believe a lot of things.”

Later, Bonnie convinces herself that her Grams had just been drunk. Though, a part of her still wants to ask her Grams what she truly thought the dream had meant. Bonnie knew there was something more she didn’t tell her.

But she never had the chance to get an answer. With her Grams taken away from her and a bunch of 200 year old vampires released from their tomb, her cryptic dream seemed so much less important. The dream returns to her every so often, but she has less and less time to ponder on it as her life becomes entrenched in the supernatural.

That is, until she met Klaus.

Xxxx

Bonnie is almost certain that Alaric is drunk. That’s not exactly new for him, but he at least usually makes an effort to be sober when he’s teaching.

After having to ask one of his students what they were learning, he looks about ready to just leave the classroom when he finds out they're still covering the 1960’s.

“Right, the sixties.”

Ric starts to turn towards the chalkboard, and his eyes scan the classroom. His gaze slides from Stefan to Elena and then towards Bonnie.

He freezes mid step and nearly stumbles, his eyes still locked on Bonnie. The slight smirk that was on his lips falls. For a second, he just stares at her, frozen, with his eyes wide and his mouth just barely agape. There’s confusion in his eyes which turns to horror.

For some reason, Bonnie thinks of her Grams and the strange look in her eyes when Bonnie had told her about her recurring dream. That same feeling, when someone who she knows stares at her in a way she had never seen before. Unlike Grams, Alaric doesn’t look at her as if she’s a stranger. He sees her and he knows her, but he still looks at her like she isn’t supposed to be there.

He looks at her as if he’s looking at a ghost.

“Oh, fucking hell.”

There are scattered giggles among the students when their history teacher curses under his breath. He recovers quickly from the outburst, turning back to the chalkboard. The chalk piece in his hand scratches loudly on the board from the way Alaric aggressively writes ‘the 60’s’ in large messy letters. Bonnie swears that she hears the chalk crack in his hands from how hard he grips it.

Even when released from his eerie stare, Bonnie glances around self-consciously, wondering what could have made him look at her the way he did. Is something wrong with him? Is something wrong with her?

When he turns back to the class, there is no sign of the haunted look he had before. Just a lazy smile on his lips as he goes on a very odd rant about why the 60’s were terrible. All the while, he never once looks in Bonnie’s direction again, making her wonder if she had imagined it.

She reassures herself that Ric’s bizarre behaviour is because he is definitely drunk.

Xxx

Alaric calls in sick the next day. And the day after that.

Bonnie might have been more concerned about him if she wasn’t dealing with her own stressors. Between the overwhelming power flowing through her, Jeremy hounding her, and the imminent danger that seems to cling to Elena. Bonnie has plenty to focus on besides Alaric and whatever the hell is going on with him.

She doesn’t see him again until the night of the 60’s decade dance.

He shows up while she is alone, after Jeremy sulks off. Her boyfriend isn’t exactly pleased about the danger that came with harnessing the magic of 100 dead Bennett witches.

“Bonnie. Can I talk to you privately?” Alaric seems more like himself, though she isn’t sure why he would want to talk to her privately. Maybe it has something to do with the way he stared at her during history class. Or maybe Jeremy had told him about her potentially deadly boost in power.

Bonnie casts a quick glance at Elena, making sure she is still dancing with Stefan, before turning to follow Alaric into the hall.

Alaric leads her through the school, further and further away from the dance.

“Where are we going?” she asks, having to jog in order to keep up with his stride.

He doesn’t stop walking. He doesn’t even turn to look at her. “Just a little further.”

Bonnie can see the doors to the cafeteria are just ahead of them. They are practically on the other side of the school from where the dance is being held. Far from the safety of the crowd. Far from any of her friends.

Bonnie stops in her tracks. “What’s going on, Ric?”

Alaric stops walking when she stops following him. When he turns towards her, she can see the glassy quality in his eyes, as if he’s not fully there.

“I have to bring you to him,” he says, not even a trace of emotion in his voice.

Slowly, the realization dawns on Bonnie that he's been compelled.

“He’s waiting for you. In there.” Alaric points to the cafeteria doors.

Bonnie knows in her bones who he’s talking about and her insides twist so violently she thinks she might throw up on the spot.

Klaus.

He’s there. He compelled Alaric to lure her to him. He knows about her and he is going to kill her if she goes through those doors.

Suddenly, her situation becomes far too real.

Before, she was able to convince herself that she could handle it. That she could find a way to survive whatever massive spell was needed to take down someone like Klaus. And if she didn’t survive, at least she would be doing something good. Saving her loved ones and ridding the world of an ancient evil vampire who seems to be regarded as history’s greatest villain. It would be a good death. A noble death.

But now that death is far too close to her, only a few small steps away, and all she can do is remain rooted in place.

She’s only seventeen years old. She never graduated highschool. She never went to college. She never got married or had a family.

She didn’t want to die yet.

Alaric moves and Bonnie finches violently when he starts walking towards her. She knows she can snap his neck with a flick of her wrist, but she doesn’t want to hurt him. But if Klaus has him compelled, she might not have a choice.

Instead of trying to grab her and drag her towards those doors as Bonnie expects him to, Alaric walks straight past her. Back in the direction of the dance.

When he is out of sight, Bonnie whips around towards the cafeteria entrance again. But no ancient vampire emerges to try and kill her. Despite her shaky breathing and how her heart hammers against her ribcage, everything stays painfully quiet and horribly still.

He’s waiting for her.

The primal urge to run rises up from deep in her gut and nearly chokes her.

Instead, Bonnie steps forward.

When she peers through the open doors, there is only one person inside. A young man leans back in one of the chairs with his feet propped up on the table, fiddling with something in his hands. She knows he can hear her footsteps with his vampire senses, but he doesn’t even look up at her as she enters. Whatever he has in his hands has his full attention.

When he does finally look at her, Bonnie is struck by how young he is. And how pretty he is, with his sandy blonde hair and wicked grin. Like the college boys she used to flirt with when she would visit her Grams at Whitmore.

“What took you so long?” he asks, and she immediately notes his soft voice and accent.

Bonnie doesn’t answer. She just stares at him as he swings his legs off the table and stands to his full height.

“Hello Bonnie,” he greets her with a wide smile, clasping his hands behind his back. “I assume you already know who I am.”

Her eyes narrow and every muscle fibre within her becomes as taught as a bowstring. “Klaus.”

“Surprise,” he beams, a cheerful lilt in his voice as he takes a step towards her. “I heard you’re planning to kill me.”

Bonnie takes a step back and clenches her fists. She can feel the magic crackling in her palms and the lights around them flicker. ”Is that why you compelled Alaric to bring me here? So you could kill me first?”

“No,” he counters. ”I had your history teacher bring you here so we could chat.”

Bonnie’s eyebrows crinkle in confusion and suspicion. “About what?“

“I need to kill the doppelganger,” he asserts, his voice unyielding and his eyes as cold as ice. “I’ve waited far too long to break this curse and I am not going to back out now. Not even for your sake.”

Not even for her sake? What is that supposed to mean?

Despite her confusion, Bonnie doesn’t waste time pondering his words. “I’m not going to let you hurt her. If you come after Elena, I will kill you.”

Klaus tilts his head and a strange smile settles on his lips. ”What if I offered a compromise?”

This time, Bonnie is stunned into silence, unsure of what kind of compromise he could be suggesting. Her confusion must be evident because he decides to keep elaborating.

“There’s a loophole. A way for Elena to survive the ritual,” he explains, almost casual in his tone. He seems to be amused by the shock his words elicit, because his smile grows even more wide. “An elixir my brother had made for Katerina 500 years ago. One that will allow the curse to be broken while ensuring the doppelganger doesn’t die.” He pauses. “At least not permanently.”

All Bonnie can do is stare at him as his words echo in her skull. He has a miracle elixir that will ensure Elena doesn't die? He has a brother?

This confrontation is turning out to be infinitely more bizarre than she had anticipated. Bonnie assumed this guy would be trying to kill her as soon as he set his sights on her. Why is he trying to bargain with her instead?

She shakes her head in disbelief. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” Klaus says, and his simple denial nearly drives her into a fury.

“Why would you do that?” she asks, and her frustration slips into her voice.

As her anger rises, the power simmers under skin and the lights around her flicker and stray flyers flutter. Klaus remains annoyingly unfazed by it all, seeming to be more interested in her power than threatened. This bastard has kept her spiraling since he started talking, while she slowly loses the nerve she had worked up in order to kill him.

“Because I know it would hurt you if she died. And that’s the last thing I would want.”

What the hell is this? What is this guy’s game?

“How do I know this isn’t a trick?” Bonnie hisses through gritted teeth, regarding him with suspicion.

Klaus simply shrugs with that irritating, dimpled grin still plastered on his face. “You'll just have to trust me.”

“Or I can just kill you now,” she says, her voice as cold and hard as steel even as her heart stutters in her chest. “Before you hurt anyone else.“

Klaus stops smiling, but he doesn’t falter. “We both know that using the amount of magic it would take to kill me, would also kill you.”

Bonnie nods at his statement, because she knows it’s true. ”But no one else would need to die. Just you and me.”

She can see it, the moment his composure cracks like an egg. Her steadfast assertion that she was more than willing to die in order to kill him seems to grate on his nerves. There is a stormy rage in his eyes for a second, and she thinks he might actually try to attack her. Instead, his livid expression is smothered and replaced with a smug smirk.

“Hmm. Just you and me,” he echoes and his voice is soft as velvet. “That’s almost romantic.”

This finally sets Bonnie off, and her magic flares. The lights overhead surge with electricity until the bulbs burst. Sparks shower down on them and scattered papers whirl around the room.

Klaus isn’t bothered by her display of power. “You’re not going to kill me.”

”You think I can’t?” she challenges as more lights surge and shatter in the hallway

”Oh, I know that you can,” he chuckles. “But you won’t. And I have no intention of killing you.”

Before she even has the chance to blink, he rushes her. She’s pinned against the wall, one hand holding her waist while the other grips her wrist. Klaus’ face is so close that she can see the stormy blue colour of his irises.

For a second, she thinks he’s going to bite her, but instead he just leans down and presses his forehead against hers. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, as if he is trying to steady himself. As if he is a ship lost at sea that has finally found his anchor.

Bonnie knows she should attack him. She should use all her magic, all the power of her ancestors, to throw him off of her and crush his heart until it bursts. But the tender way he holds her and the vulnerable, agonized look on his face stays her hand.

He pulls her hand up to his chest and presses her palm over his dead heart.

Bonnie almost finds herself forgetting everything - where she is and who she is with - when she sees the raw pain in his eyes when he opens them again. Those eyes that she suddenly registers as familiar.

Those same blue eyes. That same sandy blonde hair. That same dimpled smile.

She is too stunned to move. Too stunned to speak. She doesn’t even rip her hand away when he releases the hold on her waist and her wrist.

Her palm stays pressed against his chest.

She only starts to come to her senses when she becomes aware that he is tying something off around her wrist.

“I’m yours and you’re mine. Just as you promised.“

Klaus pulls away then, slowly. On instinct, Bonnie draws her arm protectively to her chest. Her skin still hums from where he held her. There was that feeling of death that came with the touch of every vampire. But there is another feeling beneath that. A warm and familiar tingling in her fingers.

“I won’t kill you,” he says, though Bonnie can barely hear him. “And I know you won’t kill me.”

Bonnie looks down at the bracelet he tied around her wrist and her stomach drops like a stone. A wooden pendant, shaped like a butterfly, attached to a leather strap. The same pendant that had been floating in her dreams for years.

The one he had carved himself. Just for her.

Klaus steps away from her. “Once you’re ready to accept that, come find me.”

When Bonnie looks up again, Klaus is already gone.

[mentohol-blog]

First off, thank you to @lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar for showing me how to tag. I will use this power responsibly.

I just finished the last assignment of grad school. I graduate on Friday, and the onboarding process before I can fully begin my new job is very lengthy. All this to say - I suddenly have more free time than I’ve ever had in my adult life. I'm giving all my incredibly talented writer mutuals a warning - I will be reading everything you've ever posted and leaving lengthy comments just chock-full of appreciation for the wonderful art you've created. Do you write on ao3? Wattpad? Ff.net?tumblr.com? It doesn't matter where. No fic is safe. They will all be subjected to kudos, upvotes, likes. Awestruck, adoring comments will be left with reckless abandon. Be aware.

@greggorsamson @acute-crashout-jeyuso @spiicii @terrortwinunicorn @fafomama @fantasyismyonlyrealescape @violetmuses @trippinsorrows @surdelcielo @ladyyy--stardust @silassstingy @rated-rko

If I left anyone out, may many curses befall me. Let me know. I will read your works. And you will know. Because of the copious comments, likes, kudos, etc. (see above).

Also, if it’s on ao3, my username is Astrq. Wattpad, Mentholated. I’ll edit this post with who I am on the other sites when I finally access my ancient login info lmao

p.s. If you want me to remove you from this post, let me know. Three months might seem like enough time to learn the etiquette of a site, but this is my first time tagging folks, and I’m still learning! Like, is this okay to do? Am I being horribly rude? Let me know. I looked it up, but the results were highly inconclusive.

[stanlunter]

So loud and so wrong

First of all, while Azula is obviously mentally unhealthy and is in fact traumatized victim of abuse, she's not a sociopath in any way. Actually, it seems like you're just trying to stigmatize this disorder with this well-known "being a bad person = being sociopath/psychopath" which is just idiotic and ableistic and doesn't fit her at all. If she has any disorder, it would be NPD (may be BPD or PTSD too, not sure about this tho) and not as an insult, but bc she suffers from a lot of its symptoms

Secondly, let's not pretend like literally everyone, most likely including you, excuses the same shit when it comes to Zuko or Iroh, cuz yeah, Zuko did all the bad things Azula has done and may he even worse, but for some reason he isn't a "homicidal sociopath" huh. Zuko did try to kill Aang and his friends, was sad when his sister didn't die, betrayed his uncle and the list goes on and Iroh was a war criminal who has burnt the whole villages and was literally laughing at it. But Ig it's bad only when it comes to Azula, yeah.

And dare I ask if by "hurt baby turtle-ducks for fun as a child" you mean accidentally burning a wooden toy when she just discovered she'a bender? Oh yeah, that was so horrible for her, a true monster

And yeah, she isn't cinnamon roll, she is a groomed teen who was turned into a weapon, never was given a chance or help by anyone and was isolated and tortured instead for the same exact things Zuko and Iroh had done with no consequences

May be if you had read the "Azula in the spirit temple" comic (and your "she hurt a turtle-duck for fun" already says how well you read it), you would see the thousands of hunting on her redeeming, including the crazy amounts of the parallels with Zuko's redemption arc, but Ig it's too hard

Has she done bad things? Yep. Is she a villain? Definitely. Is she an interesting villain? Absolutely. But it so clearly doesn't make her some pure evil monster you're trying to make her look like. A villain can be a victim, can be tragic, can have good sides, can be not a "sociopath", can be redeemable, can be seen as a broken teen and can cause sympathy. I'm sorry you don't have enough media literacy to see "villain characters" as something more than evil caricatures tho

I’ve started seeing some posts on here again talking about how Azula is just a traumatized victim and doesn’t deserve to be labeled as crazy or imprisoned for what she did. Some even went as far as to claim she doesn’t have any mental illness and just suffered a psychotic break.

First off: your opinions and interpretations of the show are just as valid as anyone else’s. This is not me attacking you or saying you’re wrong for feeling this way. I’m just putting in my two cents.

Azula is crazy. She’s a homicidal sociopath. Her being 14, traumatized, and manipulated is NOT an excuse to try and kill her brother, the avatar, and his friends on multiple occasions (not to mention the people she succeeded in killing during the show’s runtime). Did people forget that she hurt baby turtle-ducks for fun as a child?

She is not a precious cinnamon roll who just never got the chance to do better. Even if she was given the opportunity to redeem herself, she probably wouldn’t take it.

She is a well written, layered character with tragedy woven through her storyline, but that doesn’t make her an innocent victim. It makes her an interesting villain.

[ngqueen]

KEY POINTS, PERSONAL TAKES, AND A FEW HALFASSED THEORIES ABOUT THE LATEST CHAPTER

Soilers for "Chapter 13: Eyes On the Prize" of IBVS!! Also, this is long as hell. Like REALLY long as hell. Also, I'm like flaming James in this. You've been warned <3

OKAY SO. LET'S START WITH WHATEVER THE FUCK JUST HAPPEND:

Monika and Ben are now students in Foxfield High (and Ben's last name is fuckin' Dover)

My girl Rachel is being cyberbullied by Twitter users, my glorious queen doesn't deserve this. (Also, she's Jewish!)

Monika and Ben are gonna be hackers (again), and "erase" said bullies

Ed is TWEAKING tf out, and we generally don't actually know why

Stacy is clearly bothered by something relating to Barry, who was.... In the underground tunnels all by himself?? for some reason??

Chris was sent by Felix to ROB THE LOPEZ HOUSEHOLD.

Isaac's and James's beef runs a lot deeper than it seemed (we kinda knew that, but still.)

WHY IS FELIX AT THE PARTY????

Isaac crashed out on like, everyone (as he should lowkey)

We got solid, like actual confirmation from Drew that James is jealous of Isaac (again, we all knew that, but now it's like, not just up in the air y'know)

JAMES AND FELIX ARE CHILDHOOD FRIENDS?? (and Felix forgot his name and didn't recognize him, like at all, it's so funny to me)

There are tunnels connecting the Lopez household to the school (and the sewers). The prophecy of the school kings (and queens) and their "Appointed Knights and Protectors" is engraved on a plaque down there.

BARRY. WHY ARE YOU IN THE TUNNELS??

Barry knows that Chris stole Felix's book from the Lopez household, not good news for Chrissy, who: "Made sure Felix knew that he wanted his part in this to be a secret, and he wanted no involvement in any jockly battle"

Edward, wtf does "This all happened because of me, Gonna go fix it now. I guess." mean?? (Also, "You can go or stay. Do whatever makes you feel normal."?? Like dude, I thought you two were finally like, getting along, wth)

That's the key points, I think. I hope I didn't miss anything

Personal takeaways:

Fuck you james.

James wants that cookie so fucking bad he's willing to throw a temper tantrum at a guy he can literally throw like a rag-doll.

Love seeing Isaac crashing out, you go king (But also um maybe don't actually leave him alone rn guys-)

Why is Chris actually kinda badass like "Fortunately, this wasn’t the first time Chris had scaled a fence"?? Casually agreeing to breaking in and robbing?? pop off I guess damn??

Chris is actually so justified in not liking Ed like bro

Fucking no one is ever nice to Isaac I guess (not you Drew pookie we know you're trying and all of these assholes are towering over you I'd be shitting myself too dw <3)

Drew has got to stop giving James the benefit of the doubt like "maybe he just had a bad day?" I can get this is like the first you see of his shitty behaviour, but "James is scared he's jealous of you Isaac" is insane to me. (Like yeah I get that he reads emotions so he knows that James is just a pussy, but bro also called your bestie a jackass and a freak and was also this close to punching him like bsfr there's so much feeling scared can justify). Love him to bits though! My poor boy is really just trying to keep the peace in a crowd that almost jumps each other on the regular

Monika is so fuckin' creepy, like I appreciate the help you're giving Rachel. But also, girl, you literally possessed her. Give her a break.

Barry I still need answers you creepy asshole. Why the hell were you down there, alone, at night. Wth.

Fuck you James, again.

WHY. IS. FELIX. THERE. (No, like actually, I'm on James's side! Who let him in?? Why didn't they kick him out?? Why did they let him play??)

I find it horribly tragic and comedic that Chris fell for Felix's tactics, considering that Felix is the literal cousin of his toxic, crackhead, crazy ahh ex-friend. (The only difference between them is that Fresh was on drugs and Felix is like that for the love of the game (also that Fresh possibly murdered his ex gf, Felix would not do that, as he would never have a girlfriend.))

Like, Chris is gonna have the crashout of the century when he realizes that he just helped Felix pull the exact BS Fresh pulled, the guilt is gonna kill him I'm telling y'all.

Idk if it's just a me thing, but Ed's and Isaac's interactions feel a lot colder than usual, like what's up?? (Is Ed just losing it? Is it because the boys are there? Is he upset at something that happened in the last chapter that I'm completely overlooking?? Or maybe I'm just imagining it.)

I love Rachel sm I get you girl, you're not alone in this!!

Ben is absolutely precious I could eat him!!

I live for the fact that none of the jocks are actually like, nice to Isaac at all. Like none of them. Lewis is deffo the best of them (he literally just never talks to him), then Cody is just like, really passive with him. Justin was an asshole to him in the chapter where Isaac and Ed went to look for Charlie, AND JAMES. WHEN I CATCH YOU JAMES. Like they're still assholes to him, they're just not outright bullying him cause Ed is his (kinda) friend. And it's insanely funny to me, cause that means that James is absolutely blowing the "being nice to nerds" thing out of proportion. Like none of these bitches are NICE TO ISAAC. Y'ALL STILL ASSHOLES. WHAT ARE YOU WHINING ABOUT???

Honestly, this chapter did great portraying that hey guys.... these guys are like, actual jerks, like "shoving nerds into lockers and bullying people for no real reason" jerks. They're assholes, always have been, I feel like because James in the "greater evil" of them and we see them being bros we kinda forget how they are to people they deem "freaks".

I want James hospitalized.

Pretty sure that's all!

Potential theories??:

Edward might reveal his powers to the boys in the next chapter?? (I doubt it considering that Felix is still in the house for some fuckass reason.)

Ed might declare he's done with the supernatural stuff?? for like idk the sake of everyone's safety??

I heard this theory before here, and I'm lowkey starting to believe it, but is James the boy that bullied Isaac when his powers manifested?? It can be argued against it that Ed wasn't sure if it was true or nah, but also you could say that James's ego is too big to admit to Isaac hospitalizing him. Then again, it has a lot of holes, but it could explain James's and Isaac's personal beef.

Monika and Ben are gonna kill a Twitter user.

James and Ed are gonna have a dramatic friendship breakup, and James will spiral and actually try to kill Isaac with the help of Felix. (I want the drama.)

Lowkey Drew is gonna crashout bro is trying so hard to keep the peace let my boy tell these assholes off (that goes for both the jocks and Isaac btw.)

Xavier is either gonna wholeheartedly support Chris hanging out with the football team or absolutely lose it.

But idk I'm just brainstorming here.

That's it, thank you for coming to my TED Talk <3

[savagewildnerness]

“Only Nicki was having none of it. He had taken to heavy drinking and refused to return to the theatre or study his music anymore. He insulted Roget when he came to call. To the worse cafes and taverns he went, and wandered alone through the dangerous nighttime streets.

Well, we have that in common, I thought.

All this Roget told me as I paced the floor a good distance from the candle on his table, my face a mask of my true thoughts.

"Money doesn't mean very much to the young man, Monsieur," he said. "The young man has had plenty of money in his life, he reminds me. He says things that disturb me, Monsieur. I don't like the sound of them."

Roget looked like a nursery rhyme figure in his flannel cap and gown, legs and feet naked because I had roused him again in the middle of the night and given him no time to put on his slippers even or to comb his hair.

"What does he say?" I demanded.

"He talks about sorcery, Monsieur. He says that you possess unusual powers. He speaks of La Voisin and the Chambre Ardente, an old case of sorcery under the Sun King, the witch who made charms and poisons for members of the Court."

"Who would believe that trash now?" I affected absolute bewilderment. The truth was, the hair was standing up on the back of my neck.

"Monsieur, he says bitter things," he went on. "That your kind, as he puts it, has always had access to great secrets. He keeps speaking of some place in your town, called the witches' place."

"My kind!"

"That you are an aristocrat, Monsieur," Roget said. He was a little embarrassed. "When a man is angry as Monsieur de Lenfent is angry, these things come to be important. But he doesn't whisper his suspicions to the others. He tells only me. He says that you will understand why he despises you. You have refused to share with him your discoveries! Yes, Monsieur, your discoveries. He goes on about La Voisin, about things between heaven and earth for which there are no rational explanations. He says he knows now why you cried at the witches' place."

I couldn't look at Roget for a moment. It was such a lovely perversion of everything! And yet it hit right at the truth. How gorgeous, and how perfectly irrelevant. In his own way, Nicki was right.”

Hehehe, Made Nicki a wee tipple for this one!  And managed to not know it all over him!  Well done me! Nearly didn’t have chance for one today, but squeezed this in.

I don’t know that I’m gonna get that fic written for Nickistat week though.  Basically I suddenly decided that Nicolas would find his way to an opium den and it means I’m gonna have to redo it all.  I know they weren’t a common thing to say the least in 1780, but research seems to suggest if Nicolas were wandering the most dangerous parts of the city… which… as stated here, he was… and he has money… and so he could have found such a place.  Of course, he could find laudanum in an apothecary, or even in a meeting of Revolutionaries, which he’d likely know the location of from his student days.  But I think he’s past meeting with the Revolutionaries by this point.  Too many words.  And I dunno… Laudanum is OK, but where’s the slow Romance to it?  Hmm… Well, I have a horrible feeling this fic might never get written, but anyway…

Wasn't sure which Lestat to use for this. Neither of my Lestats are exactly newborn vamp Lestat... so went for this Lestat and we can imagine his frock coat is an 18th century one for the purposes of this!

Lestat and Nicolas by @toriangeil 💕🎻.

Oooh, let's see what you all think...

OMG WHY IS THERE A RANDOM FACE OPTION AT THE END OF THIS POLL??? I DID NOT PUT IT THERE!! WHO DID? DID LESTAT DO IT??? I CRY! EVERYONE IS JUST GONNA VOTE THAT NOWWWWW! I KNOW I WOULD!!

[spectrechosts]

Better Off Together - Chapter 6

Masterpost

Lunaeris is having a bad time.

They can clear a cave chamber of foes, she can check for traps, Ryse can check for traps, and none of that protects them from an ooze hiding in a crevice in the ceiling until some unfortunate victim happens to stand under it.

That unfortunate victim, of course, being her.

Obviously it didn't kill her; Kallie pulled her out of the gelatinous mass and she blasted it to pieces. But it had killed someone, and partially digested them, and she had been... engulfed in it all. It's not enough that it's disgusting either; the awful mixture of viscera and slime clings to her. She can't escape the horrible texture of it, oily and viscous and sticky.

It's in her hair, and her eyes, and her nose, and her everything. The rotten muck thoroughly permeates all of her senses, and she wants to cry and also incinerate her own skin so she can be sure she's clean.

A piece of what she's fairly certain used to be a face slowly sloughs off her, and she chokes back a sob.

"Oh dear, ohhh Princess, don't cry, um-"

Kallie frets over her, wanting to help but unsure how.

"Listen," she says, "why don't we head into the collapsible cabin and run you a bath? Won't that be nice?"

Lunaeris grumbles.

"I'm- I'm an adventurer." She asserts, glumly. "I can't run away to my safe little house whenever a slime touches me. I will... wash in the river."

Kallixenia grimaces.

"We're not really near any river, princess." She says.

"An inn, then."

"Princess..." She rumbles softly. "It's one thing to not make use of your resources because you like to camp outside. It's another entirely to make yourself miserable out of some misguided need to prove yourself. No one doubts your dedication, and right now I think you'll be much more comfortable letting yourself be a princess."

"I don't feel like a princess." Lunaeris mumbles. She feels gross. She feels like a literal pile of garbage.

She feels like she's covered in awful corpse goop.

"Well, I'll just have to treat you like one until you do." Says Kallixenia, smiling softly. "May I grab the door to the cabin from your bag?"

Lunaeris nods, and Kallixenia sets the magical door down and herds her through it once it grows to proper size. The rest of the party waves at her hesitantly, grimacing at her misfortune.

"We'll make camp outside, okay?" Asks Lagakh, and Lunaeris weakly agrees as the door closes and vanishes.

Kallixenia, gods bless her, is much better at keeping focused on solving the problem than Lunaeris is right now.

"I'm dripping on the floor-"

"I'll clean it later, Princess."

"My clothes will need-"

"I know, Princess. I'll take care of them."

Lunaeris is far too distracted by all the awful sensations she finds herself trapped with to protest against Kallie's insistence on taking care of everything for her, nor her pointed repetition of her title. She allows herself to be stripped and sat in the cabin's magical bathtub.

Runes etched into the wall summon warm water forth from the aether, pouring into the tub and down a drain where, after some length, all that passes through simply ceases to exist. Kallixenia fills a bucket with soap and water and pours it out over her, rinsing the less stubborn bits of ooze away. She repeats this until it seems everything that will come off easily has, and then gets to work removing the... more solid pieces of the ooze's previous victim, that Lunaeris doesn't want floating around in the bath with her. It's an undertaking, but eventually enough has been washed away that they can fill the bath and let her soak in the soapy water without feeling as if she is just stewing in further muck.

"...Thank you." She grumbles, sitting in a mass of bubbles. "I think I can handle it from here."

"Nonsense, Princess." Kallixenia hums, rolling up her sleeves. And then more softly: "Let me take care of you, okay?"

".....Fine."

And so, while Lunaeris works at scrubbing the most persistently sticky layer of slime from her body, Kallixenia helps. She works her fingers through Lunaeris' long hair, teasing out clotted blood and congealed slime. Shampoos and conditions it, washes until it's a gleaming snow white once again.

That finished, she moves on to Lunaeris' back, thoroughly scrubs the places she can't easily reach herself. They continue for some time, emptying and refilling the tub as the water dirties, until Lunaeris finally feels clean once more.

She lounges in the warm water, free of slime, while Kallie gently rubs her ears with soap-slicked fingers.

"I think those are clean, don't you?" Lunaeris sighs blissfully.

"Maybe so, Princess." Kallixenia replies, not stopping.

Lunaeris giggles, her breath catching as Kallie presses into a particularly sensitive spot.

"You cannot be serious right now." She says. "Kallie, I was covered in corpse goop!"

"Yes, and you were very upset, and I told you I intended to take care of you; treat you like a princess." Kallixenia purrs.

"I- You- corpse goop, Kallie. You don't need to-"

"I may not need to, but aren't I supposed to do things because I want to?"

"Oh, you're horrible, using my words against me." Lunaeris complains, as Kallie's fingers find another good spot and she shudders. "Awful paladin."

"Mm." Kallie hums, smiling smugly. "Some say I'm something of a heretic. Shall we move this to the bedroom?"

"Let's."

Lunaeris gets out of the bath and dries herself with a quick blast of heat, and is promptly scooped into Kallixenia's arms.

"Eeep!" She squeals, giggling.

"Relax, Princess. I have you."

How in the hells is she meant to relax, being treated like this? Kallixenia deposits her sideways on their bed and kneels between her legs, and her heart races with anticipation.

"Kallie-"

"Shhh. I know what you need." Says the knight, as she begins slowly kissing her way up the inside of Lunaeris' thigh.

Not relaxing at all! She doesn't- She can't-

She likes to be in charge. And she trusts Kallie to take the lead, but it's so... overwhelming.

Kallixenia is slow, and gentle, and thorough, as she laps at her pussy with her stupid thick tongue. Her iron grip holds Lunaeris steady, keeping her from squirming either into or away from her, completely robbing her of the slightest bit of control.

Cruel, cruel paladin! Treating her this way!

Her traitorous body doesn't share in her outrage- it never does, stupid thing making her twitch and shudder and go weak in the legs even when she's trying to be dominant, reducing her to just barking shrill orders to feel as though she still holds the reins. And right now she can't even do that, because Kallie wants to take care of her, so all she can do is vent her need in breathy whines.

It's not fair, it's not fair that Kallie can make her feel this way so damned easily, make her feel so vulnerable and yet so cared for.

"You make such sweet sounds, Princess." Kallixenia murmurs in adoration. Her eyes have fluttered nearly closed, she looks so at peace, worshipping her. Lunaeris whimpers, her knight's words lancing straight to her heart.

Horrible awful bastard oaf paladin whyyyy is she so fucking sensitive? Even Kallie's slow pace can't make up for it. Every lick, every kiss- hells, every warm breath across her folds sends sparks through her body, threatening to ignite the powder keg at her core.

Kallie must sense her struggle; she takes a hand off Lunaeris' thigh and places it in her hand, rubbing soft circles into her palm. It helps, a bit; squeezing her knight's hand Lunaeris doesn't feel quite as if she might unravel at any moment.

Until she looks down at Kallie again, meets her big soft oafish eyes, now looking up at her like she's the only thing in the world that matters.

"So beautiful, Princess." She breathes, reverent, and that's-

She- Kallie can't just say things like that, not when she's-

She can't-

She squeals and bucks into Kallie's mouth as much as the remaining hand holding her down will allow, twisting and clawing at the bedsheets as a sudden climax tears through her. She shudders and cries out as Kallie continues just gently lavishing her pussy with attention.

"K-Kallie- Fuck, Kallie!" She pants, her knight slowing to a stop as her orgasm ebbs. Kallie trails gentle kisses up her body; making her squeak embarrassingly when she reaches her nipple, her neck, her ear no no no wait sensitive-

Kallixenia laughs at her, low and pleased with herself as she watches Lunaeris squirm, the jerk. Then she relents; rolls over onto the bed and pulls Lunaeris into her chest, strokes her hair lovingly while placing kisses atop her head.

"There you go, beloved." She says softly. "Don't you feel like a princess now?"

Lunaeris nuzzles further into her knight's chest. "Maybe. Too early to tell." She grumbles, face red. "Need more kisses."

"Of course, my princess."

~~~

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[unathorn]

"When I'm in one form or another, certain things feel instinctual... But the shift between the two needs more of a focus to - uh - trigger it? And this 'partial' thing certainly takes a whole lot more effort to sort of... Transform bits. Way harder to hold without either going all the way or snapping back. A lot of practicing. And quite a few failures."

She admits with a shrug. She had been careful about it though, making sure that during her experimentations, none of the 'other' form had crept in. Dancing a line between human and wolf was skirting a little close to the monster form and Una absolutely doesn't want to tempt any of that to the surface.

But then Zaid seems to catch up with her somewhat hinted at dietary requirements that have been rather modified of late. The wolf wasn't so inclined to a nice sweetcorn soup. Or a carb rich platter.

"Mmmhm."

She agrees softly as the revelation hits.

"Definitely a lot more... Uhm... Raw protein on the menu. I suppose, on the plus side... I seem to be able to digest it easily."

After the 'rabbit' thing... Una had been somewhat concerned about how her very 'human' stomach might deal with what the wolf had previously consumed, but rather than making her ill, she'd felt perfectly fine. No feeling sick. No adverse reactions. No bouts of gastroenteritis. Which makes her wonder how much her different forms were actually impacting each other.

She is a little taken aback as Zaids rather immediate reaction to the mention of Baskar. And at the notion of the two of them butting heads. But again, it's not her place to judge. Not everyone was going to enjoy the company of everyone else. And on the island, were people were forced into somewhat more immediate proximity, the things people found abrasive in others were likely to be amplified.

"Oh, well that's a shame."

She responds quietly to the notion of them not seeing eye to eye. But there's no judgement cast. Una, for her part - really does enjoy the company of both.

"I'm not sure anyone likes having their private and personal things laid bare for others. No matter what they are. Or perhaps just having them revealed before they have the chance to work up enough trust with another to speak of them openly themselves."

"I'm sure many of them would have made their way into the light naturally at some point. But the forced nature of this feels... Somewhat mean. Horribly spiteful."

A twist of lips and a sigh. The old Una would have reveled in the chaos and conflict... Likely finding some way to manipulate things in her favour... This Una though just feels awful for those who were finding the whole thing difficult.

"I can only hope that whatever cruelty people feel might have been done to them with these revelations, they can rise above it. Be honest and open and put all of this 'secret' business behind them."

Only a small huff of breath, dropping the subject as Zaid does. Stepping back as she's instructed and looking on with no small degree of fascination as Zaids gloop plasma spews forth. Having not been witness to Zaids ability before, she's quite - stunned... Having to turn her head at one point to shield against the bright white flashes of searing metal, feeling the heat even from here. And even in the aftermath - as Zaid goes to examine his 'work', Una has to take a minute to even comprehend...

...Even though she can change her shape, bones and muscle reforming - she's still amazed that in Zaid appears whole and well and is not in any way singed or apparently worse for wear.

"Wow... That's.... That's quite something."

A quiet huff of words as she approaches slowly. Not examining the metal, rather looking at Zaid's hand. No burns. No damage.

"Are you okay? Do you feel alright?"

It worked. He did it. Una suddenly rounding to the success of Zaids achievement.

"Oh, Zaid - this is wonderful!!! There's no way the... (beast)... That it... That... I... Could break through that. Look at what you can do! You're amazing!"

It's a note of hope that had been lacking in Una's voice for a while now. But this is it!!! They can keep people safe! From Una, at least.

Then Zaid draws her attention to the substance formerly known as 'sand'.

"It's like lightening glass. Enough heat and, it melts... I... Have no idea how hot sand needs to be to turn into glass other than... Very. My goodness. This is remarkable."

She resists the temptation to touch. Even though the rising steam clouds are dissipating, the metal is still cooling from white to red - scalding to the skin... With small 'tink-clink-pings' clearly audible as the sheets of steel cool and contract.

"What else have you managed to do?"

Zaid wasn't sure he was relieved or disappointed when Una seemed to exhale, and let her features smoothen back out to normal. Zaid always had a fascination with the slightly grotesque. It was what made Tej's 'trash' art so intriguing to him, especially his early work. And food was often grotesque, the perception of some cultural food in particular, in the North. A lupine-woman - who Zaid trusted, knew to be a good person - was a sight to behold.

"You've been practicing, or does it all come...instinctively? The measures of shifting, I mean," Zaid asked, curiously.

He mistook Una's first flush as righteous anger, given she only ate fish. Zaid immediately made excuses. "I mean! To each their own, yeah? And I'm privileged enough I can make sure my meat's always well-treated and all. But you..." Zaid realized then: wolves ate meat. Not just fish, but meat. Right? He flushed too, feeling stupid. "Dear me. The wolf in you."

Una's second blush only made Zaid grin. "You know what a furry is? He wasn't really my mate; Tej had an eclectic friend's circle." Plenty of friends circles, his Tej. (Not his Tej. Anyway.)

He crowed when Una mentioned Baskar. "They got your secret, oh right. How'd little Baskar take it, if you don't mind me asking? It's just funny - because I got Baskar's secret, yeah. Poor little cunt didn't take it too well. Sorry - sorry, I mean 'cunt' in the nicest way, I promise. But Baskar and me don't exactly see eye-to-eye, is all."

Zaid shrugged, "I won't spill, but. Between you and me, love, Baskar's secret weren't even all that bad. Nowt to be ashamed about."

A shift of focus to the work at hand, as Una showed Zaid the pieces of metal. Zaid stared, uncomprehending until Una actually spelled it out.

Arc-welder. Whatever the fuck that was. Zaid knew the basics of course: heat fused metal together. Tej (fucking Tej! Why did he have to keep coming up?!) probably knew how to weld things, for his art pieces. The biggest blowtorch that Zaid ever held, was kitchen-grade for crisping pan-fried greens.

"Erm. Plasma?" he queried, considering the term. So far he'd been using bodily functions: snot, gob, jizz. 'Plasma' was far more dignified. "Plasma hot enough to fuse metal..." He did melt metal off that hornet, with Chance.

Zaid reached into himself, feeling the swirl of rearranged molecules, the nausea that came with it. He closed his eyes to concentrate; when he opened them, they were hot white, glowing like coals. "Right. Let's give this a try yeah? Step back, Una. Like...far, far back."

Looking towards the bits of metal, Zaid extended a hand, trying to drive the 'plasma' towards it, He grit his teeth and -

It burst from his hand like a ketchup bottle unstoppering. A spurty explosion that enveloped the metal in a burst of white plasma and smoke. When it dissipated, Zaid rushed forward to inspect his work.

"Oh fuck me. Una!" Using a cloth, Zaid picked up one side of the metal. The other bit was stuck to it as they'd wanted but...so was weird scaley chips of foggy glass. "I fused sand to it too!"

[mrsfitzgerald]

richard & paul | tour'23 | part I ♡

[vaguely-concerned]

sometimes I think of all the on-the-surface warm, well-meaning but deeply ineffectual advice and attention john gives harrow through harrow the ninth (make some soup and get some sleep! get a hobby! don't be so hard on yourself! self care harrow! as long as I need take no actual responsibility in this relationship whatsoever I would have loved to be your dad!) set up against the stark truth that with his other hand he has been staging her attempted horrific murder again and again and again like a living nightmare on the logic that it will 'put her down or fix her'. and then I find that I wish there is a hell. a special hell where twitch streamers turned necromantic death emperors go

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

In the same way that this blog has given you something to hold on to and look forward to, seeing these comics has given me something to hold on to and look forward to in some bleak times too. Thank you for sharing your art and your journey and your commentary and your jokes. They mean a lot to me and I’m certainly not the only one. Keep “”””””poorly”””””” drawing <3

Thank you so much for joining me on this journey of trying to get by, and learning to stay silly and hopeful.

[rootsrotted]

lips drawn into a thin line, alan nods. that shit. one way of putting it, that's for sure. he doesn't know how to actually respond to it. it all feels like a big, cosmic joke, but that's very self-centered of him. he has the self-awareness to realize it. at the very most, it's a shared warning—but not a new one. cherish what you have before it's gone has been a saying, probably, since before there were sayings. alan feels a stab of guilt every time he thinks of his brother now, and another thinking of his father. he wishes his brother was here, for all the shit they gave each other. he wishes his father wasn't. he shouldn't wish that his father wasn't. finally his lips part, but only to draw in a breath of fresh air. half a mistake. he nearly chokes on it. he doesn't really know what to think anymore, let alone how to express it. i'm glad to still be around, at least. alan can't say the same for himself. a selfish, horrible, disgusting sliver maybe more than a sliver wishes that for every single person that had vanished, that he could have just quietly taken their place. he had always felt outside of the world, like he didn't belong. whatever had taken the others, if there had been any force of will at all, didn't seem to agree. "i'm glad you are, too," he croaks, a cop out. a little stronger, he adds, "i think grace would have thrown me out of the building if she found me asleep."

Meyers laughs a little. “I think that’s actually pretty normal. Especially after all that shit happened.” He scribbles his hand in the air, attempting to evoke the mass hysteria, confusion, and loss that was (is) the Departure. “Sure, it’s the same town, but things are fucking different.” He gestures vaguely in the direction of the grocery store. “Like, where the fuck did Joel go? Is he Departed? Is he dead? For that matter, are any of the Departed dead? Someone’s obviously still running the store, so maybe Joel’s around? I don’t know.” It’s funny, a local joke even, to laugh about the mysterious, eponymous Joel. But think too hard about it and soon you’re thinking of all the other mysteries, each a person contained within the larger mystery that is the Departure. Meyers leans back from the table, folds his arms again, and tries to dial it back a little. “I don’t know.”

He glances at Alan, then looks around the old bar again. He’s not sure if this place would have actually had more customers before the Departure than it currently does. Statistically, probably. But it’s nice to look out at the place and see those few people still lingering. He recognizes a few, just from seeing them around town, and that’s nice, too. To know people.

“I’m glad to still be around, at least,” Meyers shrugs. “Not sure what the alternative is, but I like it here.” He’s not quite sure if “here” means Redford or life itself, but Meyers hopes that at least one resonates with Alan.

[feroluce]

This was all the way back from the end of 2.3.

Hey Sparkle what the fuck.