#it’s actually such a silent struggle because nobody in the world as far as i know actually gives a shit about this aspect of my identity

[crabs-but-better]

like my indian friend can talk about not knowing urdu with my hmong friend who doesn’t know hmong but im not allowed to join in and talk about not knowing bisayan because my skin is white. they all take a “poc pic” at homecoming but im delegated to behind the camera. they talk about erasure and yet actively participate in it. slowly losing my mind and yet i can’t talk about it because that would be “speaking over poc voices” fuck all the way off actually because the cognitive dissonance surrounding my ethnic identity was half the reason i tried to kill myself in middle school. let’s actually have meaningful conversations about culture and ethnicity instead of continuing to reduce people to a binary

[chaoticbardlady99]

Nobody's Fool (Astarion x GN! Reader)

Synopsis: You and Astarion couldn't be happier, but unfortunately, other undead are not very considerate.

CW: Mentions of sex, gore, violence, mentions of Astarion's past (Dead Dove), brief character death

Author Note: Hi! I am sorry that it has taken me so long to post. I have been struggling with some health issues, but I am excited to be writing again. This is short and somewhat unedited because I didn't want to chicken out on posting lol.

Also I don’t care what anyone says- Gale is THE sassiest next to Astarion

Thank you for your likes, comments, and reblogs! They are always appreciated!

Part 5 : Part 7

 The crèche has been genuinely one of the worst experiences of Astarion’s entire life. 

 Okay- maybe that isn’t true- but it was stuffier than a Vampire’s den in there and he would know. 

 There wasn’t a single friendly or charismatic person there, but he did find out that Lae’zel is somehow considered Charismatic amongst her people. 

 Oh- he also graffitied a painting of Vlaakith. That was very fun- in spite of the earful he got from Lae’zel and then he had to sit in the prisons for a solid 30 minutes before you were able to convince them to release him. 

 However, it seems worth it when he tracks you to the river and finds you in your underwear- talking to Karlach as she cools off and simultaneously warms up the water.

  Astarion wouldn’t say he is in love with you- that seems like a gross exaggeration- but he certainly likes you more than he has ever liked anyone before and that is a really big deal for him. 

 He also really, really enjoys kissing you and having sex with you. 

 Maybe it’s because he had to wait for so long or because he had actually felt like a nervous virgin when he silently asked you if he could. 

 You make him feel pure- you make him feel like the sun. 

 “You seem exceptionally chirpy and you haven’t heard a single word I have said, have you?” 

 Astarion feels himself melt at your coy smile and the blush that colors your cheeks is positively delicious. 

You are positively delicious. 

“I- no, sorry, K,” you scratch the back of your head sheepishly, “I guess I am a bit distracted.” 

“It wouldn’t happen to be because of a very sexy vampire staying in your tent lately, would it?” 

 Something about Karlach’s face seems to upset you and he feels himself freeze.

 Are you unhappy? Do you not want to be with him? Are you thinking about something or someone else entirely?

“It’s not like that,” you say firmly, “and while he is indeed very sexy, that’s not why I like him as much as I do.

“He’s very smart, silly, and sweet. I could probably listen to him talk for hours about law and crime- some of the fancier words I don’t understand, but it is so fun to watch Astarion talk about something he is passionate about. He lights up like the full moon!

“I trust him and I feel safe with him,” you are even more red now, “I really enjoy his company and think the world of him.”

  If Astarion had a beating heart, it would be racing right now. He feels lightheaded from the praise and he wants to race out from his hiding spot. He wants to tell Karlach to beat it and then he wants to kiss you, touch you, savor you- as much as you will allow him to. 

 He has never ever been praised like this before. It disgusts him and exhilarates him. He distrusts it and believes it all in the same breath- much like how he feels towards you. Not that you disgust him, more so his growing affections towards you. 

 Astarion never wanted to be in this position with anyone and he didn’t think it would ever happen- especially not with you. You are far too sweet, kind, and empathetic for him. Certainly far, far too good for a bloodthirsty monster such as himself.

 “Hmmm okay, but you had to have done something.”

  You almost blush even harder at her question- crossing your arms and staring up at the sky.

“We did end up… making love,” Karlach shrieks and claps with excitement, “it was wonderful and magical.”

 Astarion doesn’t stop the goofy grin that breaks open his face.

  It was wonderful AND magical! 

 Not two things he would associate with having sex with him. Usually he would associate it with a death sentence. That first kiss seals his victims’ fate, but this time it seals his future getting to enjoy more intimacy with you. 

 And you are picky and you want to be with him. He wonders what your idea of special is. A bed? A nice spot with a blanket and some wine? Maybe sprawled out in front of a warm fireplace? 

 Sex in public? What about on a Selune altar? Your orgasm could be your offering and- if Astarion is feeling generous- he may even give the Goddess a bit of credit for bringing you together.  

“Is he as good as he says!?” She exclaims, “was it gentle? Soft? Rough?”

 You look like you are going to explode from embarrassment alone. He is very, very curious to hear what you have to say. 

 Was he good? Did you enjoy yourself? Was he too aggressive?

“It wa-was very sweet,” you stutter, “and soft and just perfect. He is perfect.” 

 And that is the adjective that seems to strike him with loads of guilt. His initial intentions were not positive and he had meant to use you. He is not perfect- he is a manipulative, horrid monster and he doesn’t deserve you.

 Or maybe he does? Maybe he doesn’t have to be a monster- maybe he doesn’t have to tell you about his initial intentions at all. As long as you are both happy- does it really matter how it began? 

 No, he decides, I won’t hurt them anymore. I- I still have my desires to have their help killing Cazador, but my own feelings…

 He hates to admit they have changed from something coy and disingenuine to puppy love sick and he’s tripping over himself to talk to you again. He doesn’t not like it. It’s just a feeling he has never had before. 

 You and Karlach are suddenly walking towards his hiding spot- dry and in your clothes. You will probably be heading back to pull your hair back, but he has had an idea. A silly little gesture really.

 Astarion makes it back to the tent before you do and he opens a book- pretending he’s been here the entire time. 

“I’mmmmm backkkkk,” you sing and do a gentle spin, ending it with a curtsey, “and I am re-beautified! I no longer smell like a crèche. 

“For the rest of today at least.”  

 Astarion's smile threatens to split apart his face. You look radiant as ever and while he just saw you, he still feels like it’s been hours instead of merely seconds. 

 He puts his book down and gives you a disgustingly adoring kiss on your forehead, then your nose, and then kissing your lips deeply. Astarion read that in a romance novel recently and the recipient seemed to enjoy it in the book. He is very grateful that you seem to enjoy it too.

 You have your arms thrown lazily around his neck and he holds you close to him, his hands threaten to undo the all the hard work you put into getting redressed. He is starving and he needs you- he wants to touch you- provide you with more wonderfulness and-

“TAV!” Gale’s voice pierces through the air outside of your tent, “dinner is in five and I got that bread you like!”

 You look so annoyed and while Gale can’t see you, you still put on your sweetest most appreciative face.

“Thank you, Gale! We’ll be there in a second!”

 Astarion huffs in annoyance- realizing that he isn’t even going to have time to do your hair as nicely as you would probably like. He can’t be all that mad though- your stomach does announce it’s desperation for sustenance with a loud growl. 

“Heh,” you scratch the back of your head, “I suppose all it needed to know is we have good bread.”

“I am very happy for you to have your ‘good bread’, my Dear,” he teases, “but first, I wanted to do something for you- if you would allow me.” 

 You tilt your head curiously- an adorable smile on your face- and you allow him to guide you to the front of the mirror. 

  His lithe fingers go to work, braiding your hair and enjoying the happy humming that leaves your lips as he works. It’s not perfect, but it will do for now.

“There,” he says shyly, “we don’t need our fearless leader catching a cold because their wet hair wasn’t properly put back.”

  Your hands find the braid and you look over your shoulder- the brightest, biggest smile on your face.

 You lean forward and kiss him- it’s far too short for his liking, but he knows it’s time for food.

“Thank you, Astarion. I love it,” one more kiss, “now, let’s go eat some good bread!”  

***********

  Dinner had been wonderful and he is pretty sure he made love to you afterwards (he’s never been so mind numbingly passionate with another before), but he has begun to face the reality that his feelings for you are very real, very strong, and very terrifying. They are a bit exhilarating too, but in a good way. You are the eye of his storm, but he doesn’t deserve you. His initial intentions were cruel and those feelings were false. 

 You would likely kick him to the curb if you ever found out so he is determined for you to never find out. Only, that makes him almost feel dirtier. He hates lying to you- he hates the idea of it so much it makes him feel ill. 

  The heavy feeling in his heart and the silence is probably not great for Astarion’s mental health, but it does allow him to catch the sound of something lurking in camp. 

 Gently untangling himself from you- he peers out towards the now dim camp fire and is met with the sight of two Death Shepards and a plethora of Ghouls. 

“Tav,” he whispers your name, panicking, “Tav, Darling, you need to wake up now.”

 They had all thought the path was entirely clear of problems so they all decided to rest after the horrifying events of the day. 

 The ruin they found had seemed perfect and sheltered from this type of nonsense too. He supposes this is what they get for letting their guard down. 

“Darling,” you finally begin to wake up, “we have a problem on our hands.” 

 You stretch and rub your eyes, crawling after him to peek out of the opening of the tent. He hears your heart stop before it begins to gallop. Your worry only seems to amplify his- Astarion wants you to feel safe in his presence and to be confident that he can protect you. 

“Shit,” you whisper, “we can’t take the entire group by ourselves, but I am not sure how to wake the others without alerting them to our presence.”

 You and Astarion can’t- but he certainly can. 

 “I am going to sneak out the back,” he whispers, your eyes turn as wide as saucers, “do not leave until I come back for you.”

“Astarion-“

 He is already ducking out from behind the tent- using one of his two rings to cast invisibility. First, he sneaks into Gale’s tent- poking the wizard in the cheek and covering his mouth before he can scream in fear. Astarion’s spell wore off and well, he’s a vampire. Not necessarily the most welcome sight in the middle of the night.

 Unless it’s you, but he is exceptionally worried about you and him right now and not dying painful deaths. It would be your first and his second- it’s certainly not on either of your bucket lists. 

 “I need you to keep me invisible,” he whispers, “there are a few unwelcome, undead beasties outside.”

“Shouldn’t you join them?” Gale hisses in his tiredness.

 Astarion’s response? Pinching his nose.

“Okay-okay- WILL YOU CUT THAT OUT!?” his voice almost breaks out of his whisper. “I will keep you invisible! Just don’t get me killed.”

 “No promises.”

 He manages to get everyone up- even Lae’zel- without being stabbed through. Everyone had begun to put on as much of their armor as they could and he headed back towards your tent. 

 He doesn’t see the Death Sheperd in time and it lunges for him, but he isn’t ever hit. Instead, he is suddenly tumbling to the ground- barely catching himself in time.

 His adrenaline kicks up and he kills the Ghoul nearby that attempts to take him by surprise. The rush of gore and the fight makes him feel invigorated- alive. 

 Your scream of pain slows time down entirely. The sound of metal leaving skin and your shield clanking to the ground makes his stomach turn.

 All he can do is watch as the massive greatsword is shoved through your chest and Ghouls begin to leap towards your crumpled form. 

  Astarion has fought hard before- not frequently, but he would say Nere was a bit difficult considering they were surrounded by a pool of death. However, nothing could compare to how much blood lust and rage he feels right now. 

 Karlach is right by him- both of them going blow for blow and the others are taking care of the rest of them. You haven’t moved at all.

 Even worse- your heart isn’t beating and the smell of your blood is so pungent he could choke. Usually he loves the smell, but it’s making him violently ill right now. 

 He cries through the fight- infuriated and heartbroken. He knows you will be back here soon, but this wasn’t supposed to happen. Astarion was supposed to protect you.

 The others are taking care of the fight when he finally decides he can’t take it anymore and he goes racing towards you. 

 Your eyes are wide open and your face is frozen in shock. He sobs- pulling you towards him and shielding you from the gore until someone can save you.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, so so sorry,” he gasps into your neck, his hands are stained with your blood and so is his white shirt, “please wake up, please Tav- I am begging you.”

 He doesn’t know why he is trying- he knows it’s no use, but right now he needs you so horribly. He needs to know you are alive and that you are here- that you aren’t gone forever. 

 That the best person to happen to him in a very long time hasn’t been lost entirely. 

 “Astarion?” Shadowheart’s soft voice sounds miles away, “I need to look at their wounds and revive them.”

“Then do it,” he snaps.

 He hears her take a sharp inhale, “I can’t do that while you are holding them.” 

 Astarion is afraid to let you go, but he does. He gently sets you down on the ground and he closes your eyes- not able to see you in despair a moment longer. 

 His patience wears more and more thin as Shadowheart takes her time healing your wounds. He is trying to extend the patience you would be extending her- he knows hurting Shadowheart’s feelings won’t help you recover from this devastation. 

 He chokes out a laugh of relief when your heart begins to beat again and color begins to fill your face. Your eyes open wide and you begin choking and coughing- blood coming out of your mouth. You don’t stop until you are able to breathe again. 

 Karlach is cheering- everyone is saying how relieved they are and how brave you are. Wyll says that you really took one for the team.

 That’s how he finds out it’s his fault this happened to you. 

 You had seen the Death Shepherd when he hadn’t. You had been keeping watch from the tent.

 You proceeded to misty step in time to push him out of harm’s way, but not yourself. First, your lungs popped. Second, you felt your heart burst in your chest. Third? 

 Well, you don’t seem all that keen on talking about it- eventually just walking back to your tent. The two of you have been laying in silence since.

 Everyone else may not have noticed, but he sees your trembling hands and he can hear how tight your chest is when you breathe. You don’t sound like you can catch your own breath. 

 Everytime it seems like you are going to say something, you seem to choke on your sentence.

 “Darling?” He says softly, “I’m here- what do you need?” 

 You break down sobbing, your face pressed into his chest and your hands clutching at the front of his shirt. Astarion wraps his arms around you- between him and the blanket, the world cannot find you.

 It can’t- no, it won’t- hurt you here. Not in this little sanctuary you have created together. 

  You are quite simply a mess. He doesn’t blame you. He can remember dying for the first time and then coming back. Granted, the experience is probably not quite the same, but it is surely jarring nonetheless. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, your voice almost a whine, “I should just be happy-“

“Fuck that,” he says with far more heat than he meant to, “you experienced the single worst experience any mortal person could have. You have nothing to apologize for.”

 You seem surprised- blinking away your tears and smiling up at him. 

“Thank you, Star.”

 “You know how you can truly thank me?”

“How?”

“Never sacrifice yourself like that for me again.”

“Astarion-“

“Please.”

 The obnoxious parasite in his brain wriggles behind his eyes and he can feel your request for access. You are confused and you don’t understand why he is so upset. 

 Simply put, and he shows you, he is not worthy of you or your kindness- your sacrifice. He would rather have been the one experiencing the agony of the Death Shepherd’s brutality than watch you die ever again. 

 “I can’t promise you that,” you whisper, your fingers wipe away the tears he didn’t realize he was shedding, “I like you too much to watch you get hurt like that.” 

“My Dear,” he whines and your heart speeds up, “it hurts me even more to see you hurt. I would prefer to be stabbed through- if I am being entirely honest.” 

 “I suppose we are at a crossroads then.”

 He huffs in frustration- he knows he won’t be able to win this battle against you and that you won’t stop trying to protect him. It just means he will have to double his own efforts to protect you.

“Fine, but you need to wait a very, very long time before dying again,” he says sternly, “or actually- you need to avoid dying all together. That would be preferable.”

You laugh weakly, “don’t worry, I agree. I’m in no rush to do that again.

“But I did see my parents for a bit,” your voice is so soft it’s almost a whisper, “they are happy and safe so I suppose I am grateful for that.”

 On a normal day, he may have some quip or tease you for it, but he recognizes that this is something you are sharing with him and only him- it’s his to keep safe.

“I am very happy for you, my Love,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head, “I am glad you were able to get some closure.”

 You nod happily and the silence is not uncomfortable. He was almost certain you had fallen asleep until you speak up again.

“They like you,” your voice is nervous, “they think you are pretty neat.”

 Astarion snorts- releasing a short laugh. The reality is that that scares the piss out of him, but hey- at least he won the parents’ over in whatever hypothetical land death took you to within your brain.

“Neat is a new one,” he smiles, “I may keep that one.”

“You should,” you murmured into his neck, “it suits you.”

 Your idle chatter settles eventually- only the sound of your snores can be heard throughout the tent. Astarion rubs circles into your back, counts every single one of your breaths, and listens carefully to the sound of your heart beating in your chest.

 No matter what happens in the future- Astarion will never allow that to happen to you again.

Tags: @preciouslittlebhaalbae @xxgrimripp3rxx @alice4wonderland2812 @therobishow @m1ster1e @tragicdruid @katsutoria @aristenfromwarsaw @avabjorna36 @frankie-mercury @golden-baby

[cosmic-ships]

Happening again

I honestly don't know if it's just a me thing or if it's actually the truth but I'm feeling it again, the feeling of not belonging here, the feeling like I've done something wrong that now nobody wants to be around me, that I've upset them so irrevocably that instead of telling me privately everyone chooses to be silent —

I feel distant and disconnected because of this feeling which ultimately makes me feel worse. I am not sure if I'm caught in a bad spiral again and it's just my mind being ...my mind or if this is actually true and I am highly disliked and everyone just shit talks about me behind my back.

I'm not say 100% anyone actually does but I'm voicing what my brain is telling me is happening right now, whether it's accurate or not I have no idea.

It's not a fun feeling. I'm struggling with a lot on top of once again feeling irrelevant in the world. Like, I really just..don't matter. Never have, never will. As far as I'm concerned I don't belong in the world just as much as I feel like I no longer belong here....an error.

It sucks and it hurts and if this is my brain just failing me yet again, I wish it would fucking stop. I'm exhausted—

I feel alone.

[bunglegaydogs]

HEY LOL

It's been a FAT while since I did a little ramble

But I was bored because I'm not in college until next week, I have the house to myself and NOTHING TO DO

So, take this deluded 5pm rant xoxo

Basically, what I just wanted to ramble on about is Soukoku (shocker, I know.), and in all honesty the humanity between them both.

Between both Chuuya and Dazai, humanity is a touchy subject. Chuuya strives to actively be more human, does anything to hold onto the fact that he is, still, a human. Whereas Dazai on the other hand has essentially given up, not thinking of his life as something worthy of being a human, and essentially wishing to throw it away.

Trust me, I don't know where I'm going with this rant/ramble. But I'm going somewhere.

I think that it's one of the major factors in why Chuuya hates Dazai so much; Dazai has proof of being alive, memories, moments that can assure him of his humanity. But Chuuya? Chuuya doesn't have that. Chuuya lost the first years of his life, gone. Can't remember them. He's a lab rat. He's an experiment.

Chuuya struggles a LOT with his identity, as we know. And in Stormbringer, the thought that he could be a clone fucked him up. Then having to fight that said clone after he watched it melt in his arms? Yikes.

So, naturally, he's going to despise Dazai for treating something that Chuuya craves so desperately, so carelessly. As far as we know, Dazai hasn't had to worry about a fucking God inside of him, or worry about whether or not he's actually a clone, or worry about whether or not he is a real human being.

Except, he pretty much does.

Despite being human, nobody, not even himself, thinks that he is.

That's the part that fucks me up about their relationship; Dazai is determined to die on the hill that says Chuuya is human. Chuuya is determined to live on the hill that tells him Dazai is an inhuman, unfeeling person.

Dazai fights tooth and fucking nail to prove Chuuya's humanity. Even when told that Chuuya is most definitely a clone of his original copy, he's still so adamant that Chuuya is a living, breathing, human being. But to Chuuya, the feeling isn't mutual. Dazai is emotionless, unfeeling, inhuman. He's not capable of empathy nor sympathy to others, and he treats his own life so carelessly, holding no regard for his own being and putting himself into these dangerous, reckless situations, wishing for death or something as close to it. He has a life that he doesn't try to live. Chuuya resents him for that. Chuuya has a life that he wants to live, making up for all that he lost in the beginning. And seeing Dazai just treat his own as if it means nothing irritates him. Seeing Dazai treat death as a whole irritates him.

GAH I know that this is a ramble, and so I am, in fact, rambling, but still I don't know I'm making no sense lol.

It just really intrigues me how their relationship works in regard to each other's humanity.

Because, when Chuuya first met Dazai, he thought this;

The figure was silent for a moment. Then he finally saw Dazai, and realized that he was dealing with a person that had personality. "Huh. I thought you were going to cry and run away, but you're a surprisingly radical kid."

I made a post on this a little while back. The fact that, by Dazai asking Chuuya instead to just kill him now, Chuuya responds with the thought that he's dealing "with a person that had personality". He recognises that there's more to Dazai off the bat; it's obvious, but he's different to most other people. And instead of thinking "What the fuck" he thinks "this is a person". I know it's not him explicitly saying "This is a human" but even still. I don't know. Maybe I'm the bat-shit crazy one, but something doesn't sit right with me in that there.

I really don't know where I am going with this, but I'm not finished lol. SKK humanity dynamics fuck me up.

More about Dazai's adamancy of Chuuya's humanity, the fact that Verlaine, the one person in the world the most similar to Chuuya and his situation, is telling Dazai that there's no chance that he's a human. Dazai isn't stupid, he knows the vivid similarities between Chuuya and Verlaine. How Verlaine can probably understand him better than most, and vice versa. However, Dazai doesn't budge. It's so much gayer in the stageplay though and it makes me piss. The fact that, in the LN, he says "It's not possible for him to be artificial, because how could I hate an artificial set of strings so much?" BUT IN THE FUCKING STAGE PLAY? "If he wasn't an artificial set of strings, he'd like me more." (Ik these aren't the direct quotes, I've misremembered, but I'm not digging through my reblogs and Stormbringer just yet to bring up the exact quotes, but they're along those lines. Sorry <3)

LMAOOOO THIS GAYASS FUCKING MOTHERFUCKER FRR

Sorry it just gets me feral.

Anyways.

I think that's maybe the end of this for now because my dogs are barking and I don't know why so I'm going to need to go check that lol.

There's certainly far fucking more to say, but that's for another day lmao (spitting bars fr).

I hope anyone reading this has a lovely day/night! ^^ <3

xoxo

[oatmealcrisp-freak]

ok heres what i got so far

Kusuo knew it the instant they entered the classroom but unfortunately for him, Kuboyasu didn’t have that luxury. So it was with great effort that Kusuo did his best not to stare too openly as Kuboyasu walked to his desk and, talking with Kaidou all the while, began to unpack his bag into it.

It didn’t take long for Kuboyasu to feel the paper. 

The paper of a slim page.

A letter of challenge.

Kuboyasu’s expression was a mixture of anger and resignation. The letters of challenge had slown down since Kuboyasu’s past as Kuboyasu the Demon Killer, former delinquent leader of The Espers gang, came out, but evidently they hadn’t stopped.

If Kusuo was capable of feeling sorry for anyone, he’d feel sorry for Kuboyasu.

“Is everything okay?” Kaidou asked.

Nendo grinned. “Did you get another kissy kissy letter? Someone’s got a crush on you?”

If only.

“Of course not, you gorilla,” Kaidou said. Wow, rude, much? “Nobody looks that mad at a love letter.” This was Kuboyasu they were talking about here, right?

Kuboyasu startled. He’d been miles away, struggling to control his anger. He shoved the letter back into his desk and smiled up at Kaidou and Nendo.

“Something like that,” He fibbed. “I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”

Tch. Of course he wouldn’t worry about it, stupid Kuboyasu. Ignoring that Kuboyasu hadn’t even been addressing him, Kusuo finally took his own seat. 

He wouldn’t worry about it, because he wasn’t worried about it. Of all the things in the world there was for Kusuo to worry about, Kuboyasu receiving a note of challenge from some random punks wasn’t one of them.

It was irritating though.

Not only was Kuboyasu putting a lot of effort into leaving his past in the past, controlling his homicidal urges (Kusuo could respect that in a man), and keeping himself generally to himself, but some nobodies had come into Kusuo’s school and were now hassling people. Worse, that person was Kuboyasu, who hung around Kusuo sometimes. Actually even often.

This could make trouble for him.

So no, Kusuo wasn’t worried. There was no point in worrying. Worrying was for the matters that you couldn’t control.

He would have plenty of control over this.

That was, of course, assuming that Kuboyasu didn’t grind them into paste, which was pretty likely. Kuboyasu was good at taking care of himself. Kusuo could appreciate that in a man.

Kuboyasu was worried, though. It was easy to tell. His thoughts were drowning in fretful disappointment, he wasn’t happy in the least. Because of some damn punks who’d snuck into his school and left a stupid letter thinking they could actually beat him. Kuboyasu liked to fight, but he was working so hard to leave it all behind him, and if cops got wind of highschool thugs duking it out it could all be over for him.

So yeah, Kuboyasu was worried.

Kusuo didn’t appreciate that.

At all.

~~~

School was over and Kusuo, who still wasn’t worried by the way, was doing some unrepentant stalking.

Kuboyasu had bailed out of ramen, much to Nendo and Kaidou’s disappointment. While he was doing that, Kusuo had gotten busy disappearing and by the time Nendo and Kaidou had realized he had bailed on them too, he was fully invisible and doing his best to tail Kuboyasu as discreetly as possible.

It wasn’t easy, going untouched through the crowded hallways and stairways, but Kusuo managed and silently, invisibly, followed Kuboyasu from the school. 

‘It’s not like I care or anything,’ Kusuo repeated to himself for the umpteenth time as he weaved through the afterschool crowd, his eyes locked on the back of Kuboyasu’s middle part. 

Because he didn’t care. He didn’t. It wasn’t like Kuboyasu was one of the few people he’d actually deigned to care for and take under his wing, so to speak, to protect and keep happy and safe. This wasn’t at all like when people were stealing Kaidou’s wallet, or when people were asking Nendo out on fake dates just to stand him up and be cruel, or when Teruhashi overworked herself trying to remember the miniscule details of her classmate’s day to day lives, or anything like that. Besides, none of that had ever happened. What show were you watching? Anyways.

So yeah. He didn’t care.

‘It’d just make trouble for me if he got in trouble.’ 

[eccentric-nucleus]

i've said it before but i feel like however nice the elden ring setting & backstory is, it's all completely failed to be conveyed in any meaningful way during the game itself. fromsoft games never feel like anybody lives there. it's just been nothing but zombies for years/decades/centuries before the current moment. elden rign talks a lot about all these dynastic struggles and the attempts to seize the great runes and whatever, but then you play the game and it's just. everybody's a zombie. who's in these kingdoms?? there's like a dozen people in the world.

dark souls made a big deal of being like, this is the site of pilgrimage for undead; nobody lives here anymore; this is why it's all just wall-to-wall zombies. elden ring, as a game with a much broader scope, doesn't really get that excuse. we go everywhere in the lands between! they're all zombies! or, i guess, there's maybe the implication they're all so incredibly hostile to the sight of a tarnished that silently and without any vocalizations they all try to murder you on sight. but plenty of enemies look pretty zombified too, so idk how far you get with that reading

(also video games have the weird issue of how they themselves are not really diagetic? 'the world map is pared down to mechanically-relevant locations so just pretend there's lots of unmarked, unvisited farming villages elsewhere' 'all these towns aren't "really" just a dozen npcs you idle around in one place; these are stand-in signifiers for normal existence in this world', etc, that kind of thing. that works plenty of times but imo once games go all-in for 'open world', no-loading-screens map layouts i feel like it's much harder to suspend my disbelief wrt videogame-y sizes and scales and distances)

idk i haven't played any of the dlc & i honestly don't feel much of a desire to revisit the game, just because it felt like it all hung together so weirdly. from what i've heard of the dlc it does more to make it seem like there's currently-ongoing evolving action happening elsewhere while you travel through the lands, but that's... it's all just a big dungeon crawl. all those bosses aren't, like, doing anything in the world, they're sitting in a box ready to do their intro animation the next time you step inside.

it's a little funny that all the games have such a reputation for all the buried lore etc, because, yeah there is a lot of setting information you can piece together if you look at stuff long enough. but the reason why you have to piece it together is that at no point in any of these games do you have a conversation more than a dozen lines long with anybody, & all the bosses are just decontextualized titles. nobody knows anything about anything & there's no sense of your actions actually meaningfully impacting anything. they're mechanically very fun! just, plot-heavy they are not

[bigshotcirca1997]

Okay people have been asking me to explains what stands out between snowgrave and no mercy/genocide . I struggle with reading and phrasing things so sorry if some of this sounds odd ,':3

how punishment works.

Snowgrave, albeit very dark and more blunt then no mercy, doesn't exactly punish you for putting berdly in a comatose state. THE most you get is noelle and susies relationship going back to susie thinking she's scared of her, and noelle also fearing her childhood friend but the player gets off scot-free. We haven't seen the whole game, but from what it looks like, you're going to be regarded as a murderer in that one fountain, where it doesn't even exist to the outside world. Nobody else is going to know how many you've really killed.

No mercy, on the other hand, everyone starts fleeing. People go from believing you can change, to trying to guard the barrier to stop you from getting out and doing it to your own people. Sans endangers a child, just to stop YOU from using this kid to hurt more people, which is why some people say his theme is the players theme (I don't believe this, because his theme belongs to another certain someone else too rendering this impossible?!).

The only person that believes you're capable of changing your ways is papyrus. His death leads to the rest of the bosses frantically wondering what happened, alphys especially.

Both pap and alphys would be the two people to trust you right off the bat, and since you've broken that trust, they're doing everything they can to stop you where you stand, snowgrave doesn't do this! Nobody really evacuated, Nobody really got away before you decided to start hurting them. Infact, when you initiate this route its already far too late for them to start running.

Route play-out functions

I know ALOT of people have mentioned the dumpster countdown, and spamtons importance to how it functions, but this is what also interests me.

You do not know how many people are left, you have to be told by someone, guided by another monster, to know what you're supposed to be doing. No mercy lays everything out for you, down to the save points giving you exact amounts remaining in each area!

Yes, they are direct copies supposed to mimic the way genocide functions, but the difference is an outer force is guiding you and giving you exact amounts to massacre entire areas of monsters that remain. Snowgrave gives you some puppet that suffered, and is using you and noelle as an outlet to get his revenge.

Youre being messed with WHILST youre manipulating kris's friend. You are just as vulnerable, you needed spamton for your next tool to ice berdly, whereas in genocide the only real roadblock is sans, but even his forces don't stop you if youre good at the game.

The tedious open spaces for snowgrave, the closed off areas that you can just pace around for no mercy!

There is ALWAYS a save point nearby, so you can keep track of your kill streak. Snowgrave makes your journey far worse, once you've started you can't exactly stop. There's hardly save points, your items can only gather from junk you find laying around, and iced corpses will stay there for when you go back to get something.

Both have horrible amounts of work to stop you from marching foward, no mercy has stupidly high amounts of monsters for you to kill, snowgrave has a step-by-step plan for you to initiate it, and the further in you get the more ridiculous it is. Both games literally go "wtf??? You actually did it" each time you initiate the route. Snowgrave has jingles for each time you properly complete a part, no mercy has another person seeing you as a vile human each time you wipe out another area.

Human guidance (kris vs frisk)

Alot of people have spoken about this, but I think there's alot more people fail to mention. Kris is naturally a very quiet kid, but they aren't silent, or emotionless. Infact, they are way more expressive than the game is letting us know! For frisk, however, we only know that they were an outcasted child. YOU decide how frisk reacts to the monsters they've just met, your initial reaction helps them develop theirs, exactly the way a child learns from their parent how to react to someone you've just met.

Some people forget frisk is very young (for this, and MANY, MANY other things too. >:[), so the drastic difference is you're using an impressionable child to do your work, whereas in snowgrave you weaponise some poor teenagers friendships to re-traumatise all of them.

Both react very differently to what you're doing to them. Frisk has no choice but to listen to you, they're a kid, they wouldn't know it any different from an adult guiding them.

They learn from your guidance that these monsters aren't worth the time, if you don't react they won't bother either. You turn them into a cold, careless killer. You teach this child to have the old views of humans, and in the process endanger humanity from it too. Alot of people turn both frisk and chara into the villains, but both of them are young children in a place they don't recognise, they're obviously going to rely on this nagging voice, this soul controlling them to help them get home. What happens during that process is out of their control, this is all on you.

Kris, on the other hand, is very clearly trying to let their friends know they aren't okay. Constant silence, barely any emotions, lashing out to let people know someone else is using their body to do harm on others. (Can't get images, mobile limit is WAY too small lul) you aren't even using kris, perse, you're using noelle. The impact of trapping berdly both hurts noelle and kris, yet kris will hold this guilt as long as you remain a constant force for them, and they hate you for it.

Using kris as a vessel to hurt noelle, and using frisk as a vessel to spread the old views of humans towards monsters. Noelle is more optimistic on things, shes not innocent at ALL despite what people say, but you use her close best friend to hurt her. Kris has to stand and take this all in, let you hurt her and their childhood friendship, because they aren't in control so long that soul keeps them in the backseat. Frisk has to go up to the surface with a warped view on regards to life, and who truly deserves to live.

Your impact on these kids stays with them, despite kris being very emotionally defensive, you still manage to hurt them. You manage to hurt noelle, too, despite not even having physical control over her. You use kris as the gearstick, making them the monster in noelles eyes. Kris constantly kindly tells you to fuck off, whereas frisk can't say or do much, because they haven't matured enough to know.

Other stuff :P

This one is something many people have pointed out, so I don't feel the need to say much more on it, but the way monsters die. Snowgrave is far more darker, you freeze them eternally, and leave them to die in a sealed fountain. Berdlys death is also horrible both in the way it plays out, and the way you torture noelle to get to it. No mercy is more "kill now, think about it later" kind of shtick. They aren't brutal, but it really makes you think on how it's so easy to do it, and then your actions come crawling back when you really are a danger.

Berdly and papyrus, the two people who strongly believed in frisk/kris, are violently dealt with and hurt for doing so. These two have parallels that are more complex, and I don't wanna fill this with MORE text, but you get the idea. You hurt "your" most trusting friends to get your way, and both deaths are a sign that you are now too far in to turn back.

Dialogue changes too, where it goes from chipper to regarding you as a force to not be reckoned with. Alot of people say chara is the narrator for undertale, I do think this too, but this also plays into you manipulating a child to get your way! Chara is already a very troubled kid, being raised in an environment that just wasn't made for them, so obviously they're going to be very upset in death for what you're doing, but they can't stop you aswell, so on and so forth, yadda yadda. You get it :P

Sans, noelle, kris and so on talking directly to YOU. I don't need to really talk about this, you can find alot of people mentioning it already. Everyone knows that you're to blame, not these kids you're forcing to hurt people. Don't need to mention that when it's been said enough XD

Spamton is a different case entirely, kind of based of him to use you to set his own plan into motion (KIDDINF OBVIOUSLY) but he's a different case that would need a different post and oh MAN do I have alot to say about him and his situation.

We've barely touched the surface for deltarune, so some of the stuff here could change! So far, though, this is what I've noticed.

Anyway, that's my thoughts on that . Thank you if you actually read my nonsense I don't really post my thoughts/analysis on stuff publicly :^]

[boombambaby]

Drabble; The stars dance, and Kuzco reflects.

His fingers curl against the grass beneath them as a breeze passes over him, gentle enough to brush his hair away from his eyes, but not to disturb much else.

It’s balmy tonight, with a sky clear enough to trace the bright constellations that he had been taught are a direct effect of his lineage across the inky sky.

He’d only taken to noticing how peaceful it had felt recently. When his thoughts threatened to consume him, or when his emperor duties that he was finally taking seriously took over his every waking moment, and he needed an escape.

More often than not lately, he’s found himself here. An unmoving mass against the calm, dew covered grass of the hillside, staring up at the wide expanse of the sky while a solitary candle burns in the window of his vacation hut.

Sometimes, Pacha will join him.

If he notices the candle burning in the window after the kids are put to sleep, he’ll join him on the hillside— a silent, but comforting sentry that reminds him that there are people who care about him in this world.

‘Nobody really seems to care that he’s gone, do they?’

For as long as he can remember, Kuzco has been presented with everything and anything he could ever want on a golden platter. His parents, from what he could remember showered him in gifts of toys, fine jewelry and respondent clothing.

As a baby, all he had to do was cry and gifts were thrust at him from every angle— each one more entertaining than the last.

When his parents disappeared, that never changed. Yzma took over as a caregiver of sorts, and as long as he didn’t bother her too much, she gave him everything.

He tried to remember the songs his mother used to sing him to sleep with. The holiday traditions they celebrated as a family— and when he attempted to recreate it with Yzma, he was snubbed.

‘What need does the future emperor have for such immature behavior? You should be learning and remembering far more important things.’

Kuzco made a point to teach some of the songs to the palace servants, but would become furious with them when they would misremember a lyric, or get something wrong.

. . . He grew up a spoiled brat, surrounded by opulence and uncaring of how others saw him because he had never learned to behave any other way.

The soft caw of a bird on a nearby branch breaks his train of thought, and he tips his head backwards to try and place it amongst the trees. In his searching, he noticed Pacha’s darkened home, the candles blown out and the entry way door closed.

He wouldn’t be good company tonight, anyways. There’s too much on his mind.

Who knew righting your past wrongs and completely changing your groove— I.e. pattern of behavior— would be so difficult and time consuming?

This morning, he nearly snapped at one of the palace servants for bringing him cold atole. Everything else on his gold plated platter was warm with enough steam coming off of it to replicate a facial treatment.

“Hey! How hard actually is your job, huh? Less chat-ty and more following your duties to the Emperor, and maybe I’d be able to get to my first torture sea— I mean, meeting— on time!” He shouted at the startled woman. Nearly upending the tray onto the bed with the force he used to shove it off of his lap.

She stared at him unblinking, hands clenching and unclenching against her robes as she bowed her head and struggled to come up with a proper excuse.

It only took a moment, and the look in her eye for Kuzco to realize what he was doing, and he visibly recoiled, grimacing at his own lack of manners,

She was still babbling, struggling through her apology when Kuzco held up his hands to try and calm her.

“Hey— hey, woah. Slowly-o down.” A pause, and then. “What’s your name?”

The trembling female stopped, glancing up at him in surprise and muttered a very quiet “Inez, your highness.” In response.

“Inez. Listen— I’m sorry. I’m having a bad morning, didn’t mean to take my frustration out on you.” He tried, lowering his hands and shooting her his best conspiratorial grin. “Anyone would be mad if they woke up knowing they were going to be bored to death in back to back council meetings all day. Am I right?”

Inez just stared back at him blankly, before offering him a weary smile. “Of course, sir.”

After apologizing again and asking her to take the tray back to be remade and to bring it to the throne room next, Kuzco dismissed her and laid himself back against his silken pillows.

For as long as he could remember, that brash, arrogant persona he put on was all that he knew. It was a shield for him, against the world and those who saw him as a spoiled little child instead of the man in charge of their empire.

. . . He certainly wasn’t going to change in a days time, that was for certain. As he was certain it would take some time for the people of the empire to change their view of him.

It was just a matter of deciding what, exactly, that view should be. And if he would deserve it.

[rachelsnotebook]

Holiday Journey

I never knew a holiday could break.

For years things went by predictably: dinner at one, three rounds of tug-of-war over the TV, and silent prayers that this wouldn’t be the year someone snapped, again.

It may have been strange and stressful, but that was home.

As it was happening... I had no idea the memory I was gently holding onto and storing away as my new favorite was actually the last stop before I got lost and fell to the worst rock bottom of my life, so far.

In a rare change of events, I had plans one holiday weekend that took me several hours away from my usual spot on the couch. Understandably, I was psyched to catch up with my friends I hadn’t seen in ages.

My mature, twenty-something year old self was practically bouncing out of my grandparents’ house, wanting it to be the next day already. On the way out, my grandpa decided to make my treat bag that year. Like any sane person, I prioritized crescent rolls over nearly all other holiday foods so it became an unofficial tradition that I was given a part of what was left in the bread basket at the end of the night.

Most years my grandma would piece it together. And she wasn’t exactly secretive that it was because she needed to make sure she kept exactly the treats she wanted. That year her voice carried across the living room and pierced through the wall into the kitchen while my grandpa hurried to throw the bag together. It didn’t matter that she could barely see what was even happening. I know she was ready to go to war over that platter of brownies.

Unfazed, my grandpa brushed off her raised voice and shrugged how nobody wanted her chocolate. And he was right. My sights were set on the crescent rolls.

He turned and handed me a stuffed, zipped bag with strict orders to bring it with me that next day. We both knew depending on traffic that the long drive could be even longer and I’d need these supplies.

And I did. The glass nearly splintered the second I screeched with joy when I discovered the brownies he carefully hid among all the flaky, bread goodness.

There were many things he left unsaid over the course of his life, and oftentimes he purposely kept his hearing aid turned off just so he could have peace in his own home, but the true extent of his feelings could always be found in actions. Like this one.

Or the time he equipped me like an assassin with the amount of knives he bought for my college apartment.

Or how he gave me a real metal hammer, but a perfect size for my five year old hand.

Or how we’d pass books back and forth for the majority of my life as a book club of two.

That final book ended up being one of my favorite childhood stories. It brought me joy when I was small and afraid of the dark. I hoped the magic would bring him comfort while he was in the hospital. His bookmark took up residence three chapters in. I read around it last time.

If he was there that next Thanksgiving, or Christmas, or Easter… I honestly can’t remember anymore. The brain is an unusual thing. When it’s hurt, it eats away so much more than anyone ever warns you about.

It wasn’t long before the holidays stopped altogether.

My grandma decided she was done cooking, but she also didn’t want anyone else to do it. The phone began to ring less. The car kept falling apart. And the cracks grew until the whole thing shattered.

Holding onto the pieces, it’s difficult not to let my mind return to that last time everything felt okay. It almost feels like I’m tethered to that old memory, watching the world roll by the car window. A sense of home pulling me down the road. I keep thinking to myself that maybe one day I'll reach my destination, and there will be something worth celebrating when I get there.

Author's Notes:

I'll be honest...I still don't know what to make of this one.

My nephew is turning five soon, so that means this mother's day marks the Five Year anniversary of my grandpa's passing. I've been struggling to put my feelings into words since then. I can't explain why. No one has ever asked me to do this, but each winter I find myself here: a jumble of thoughts, a bitter taste in my mouth, an anger and feeling of loss I don't understand how to navigate.

I was mid way through my Thanksgiving, which consisted of a bag of potato chips and watching A Christmas Story on loop, when I began throwing thoughts down in a note app on my phone. Over the next several weeks I picked, and poked until I couldn't look at this string of words anymore.

I wanted to share this before Christmas, and then before the New Year. I'll take 2am on February 1st. This is a part of my journey, and maybe next winter I'll find a bit more peace revisiting this stop.

///

This piece has been reworked for this posting, but originally posted on February 1st, 2023 at rachelsnotebook.wixsite.com

[upsideoffalling]

The Real Peter Parker

summary: Peter recalls the first time he really noticed you; when you defended him in class.

warnings: none

notes: fluff

word count: 925 words

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Peter had forgotten the exact moment he had laid eyes on you for the very first time. It frustrated him to no end that he couldn’t remember how you had met or the first time he saw you. However, he remembered the first time he really noticed you.

It was in English. Your class was having a discussion about literature and morals. How morals were ever changing and specific to a person, and how that was demonstrated through poetry, plays and novels. The conversation had somehow turned into a debate about Spider-Man, following the recent events of the BLIP.

You almost always kept your head down in class. Not because you didn’t have anything to say, but because you knew you couldn’t change people’s opinions or minds or move them in a way that stories did for you.

“Spider-Man doesn’t have morals. His motives are clearly extrinsic. He probably gets paid millions everyday.” Elysse, a pretty, red-head with the most flawless skin you had seen on a teenager before, stated confidently.

“Yeah, and laid millions too.” Flash snickered, causing an eruption of laughter in the class.

Peter rolled his eyes. He’d heard all this twenty times over, but it never bothered him any less. Part of him wishes he could just tell everyone, “No! I’m actually really broke and have never even had a girlfriend before, let alone a sexual one.” But he knew he couldn’t. So, instead, he dropped his chin in his hand and tried to zone out of the conversation.

“So, you think Spider-Man is Spider-Man because of the fame, the money and the power, and not because he wants to help people?” Mr. Mathis stroked his non-existent beard, looking around the classroom. “Anyone disagree?”

The classroom was silent for a long moment. A moment so long, Peter thought it was all over and he could finally pay attention. He was slowly getting used to people not really defending him.

“I disagree.”

It was a voice he had honestly never heard before. He knew he’d remember it if he had. Every pair of eyes in the room, including his own, latched onto a girl in the far corner of the room, whose face was beginning to brighten in the cutest way.

Peter could feel his jaw on the floor, but he did nothing to pick it up.

Peter thought he knew the definition of beautiful, but seeing you for the first time, it took on a whole new meaning. He suddenly couldn’t find a way to describe those Y/E/C eyes, or the Y/H/C hair that cascaded down your back and the loose curls that framed your face.

He was staring at you for so long, he almost missed you talking.

“Don’t you think if he only wanted fame and power, people would actually know who he is? Yeah, sure, he’s really famous. Everybody knows Spider-Man, it’s a household name. But nobody knows who’s under that. What does Spider-Man do when he’s not saving people? He takes off his mask, and he goes home. Probably to his average home, his average life and his average family, knowing no matter what he does, or who he saves, he’ll still just be an average man.”

Peter felt his heart twist so gloriously that it was painful. He’d never heard anyone defend him like that, someone that wasn’t Ned. He lifted his hand to grasp at his trembling heart, and in that exact moment, your eyes met his, and something shifted between you. You were noticing him for the first time too. It was like you were staring into him, like you could see his struggle between two worlds.

It was too much for Peter. He’d felt so vulnerable and fragile in that moment that he had to look away, just as Flash opened his big mouth again.

“An average man with more money and power than the Queen.” He tried a joke again, but this time no one laughed, they were all too infatuated with you.

Peter closed his eyes in pure annoyance and second-hand embarrassment for Flash for a few seconds, before he turned to face you again, but this time your eyes were locked on Flash.

“Don’t you get it, Flash? Spider-Man is at a loss. He works his ass off to help people, and he will never get the thanks he deserves. He gets no real recognition, no appreciation, nothing. That is a person with morals. Someone who does the most important work, but continues to go unnoticed. He doesn’t help people because he wants something from them, he helps people because it’s the right thing to do.

Peter couldn’t help the smile that broke out across his face. Watching you speak so passionately was mesmerizing. He’d never felt so understood, so seen before in his life - by someone who probably didn’t even know his name. It gave him hope. If one person could see the good in him, surely others could too.

The teacher just started talking again, but Peter interrupted him.

“I agree with her.” He stuck his hand proudly in the air, that cheesy grin plastered on his face.

You locked eyes with him again, and the smallest of smiles grew on your face, making Peter’s grow impossibly bigger.

He turned back around, smiling to himself and still feeling your eyes on him. He would ask you what your name was after class. He wanted to get to know you, just as much as he wanted you to know the real him.

And he did.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A/N:

this is my first ever imagine posted on tumblr, and honestly, the first I’ve ever posted. if you enjoyed this, please let me know, I’d be happy to do any requests :)

[queen-of-my-goofball-army]

Undiagnosed Autism-spectrum disorder in The Michells Vs The Machines

I'm sure that more well educated people have put two and two together in this film but I really, really want to put my own spin on it from my experience. For me, as an aspie, film is one of my biggest interests. I love studying and more than anything I love watching and rewatching films. My latest favorite movie was one that I just watched last night for my family movie night, The Michells Vs The Machines. I also went 17 years of my life asking myself the same question that both Rick and his daughter ask each other, what is wrong with him/her?

Well, I'll tell you, in my firmly undiagnosed autistic opinion for far too long, that this family is full of people with undiagnosed autism spectrum disorder. When I was watching it with my parents my mom made the comment that "the dad was a jerk" and maybe "he just didn't love his daughter enough to let her be her own person." I thought that was so not seeing the bigger picture even though it was only fifteen minutes into the film. I have felt like Katie so much with my own dad. My dad is a computer nerd and a physics major for those of you that don't talk to me very often. That means in laminas terms that he's extremely smart. Way smarter than I will ever be in my entire life. Both of my parents are insanely smart in their own rights. My mom is a CPA accountant. But that isn't what I wanted to talk about here. I want to discuss the effect of undiagnosed autism and what it can do to a whole family when they all have it and just don't know that they do. This will probably go on for quite some time so you may stop here or read below the cut because this also has the probablity of getting super, duper personal.

We'll start with Katie! To me, Katie is one of the most relatable characters that I have ever come across. She's a film nerd, which alone has made her supremely relatable as somebody who is thinking about going into a degree in film studies. I am more of a critic of film than somebody who wants to make her own film but nonetheless, there were SO many little moments that I related to. The first thing that I personally noticed and related to was the stimming technique that Katie has. She chews on her hoodie strings. As somebody who has chewed on the drawstrings of hoodies far too often long before I was officially put into the Aspergers box. Aspies are also known to stick with one "special interest" for the rest of their lives if it's one that is wide enough and varied enough to make it applicable. For Katie, that's film. For me that's animation. I appreciated that little detail of most of her dialogue being references to other films because as a lover of films and movies in general I could go for days on just fumes and movie references that nobody else understands. The little things from her hair being perpetually messy (same that's a whole ass mood like I just learned over quarantine how to tye my own hair back), only having one earring in her ear at all times, the way that she dresses and draws on her own hands, this was just me when I was first in high school. I was one of the few people that wore shorts underneath all my skirts/dresses. Everyone who knew about looked at me like I had grown a third eyeball.

Aaron, the younger brother, also just oozes spectrum lil buddy out of his every pore from his being. I do think that they should have picked somebody capable of doing a bit of a younger sounding voice (I know what they were going for, but like Ben Schwartz has become a huge deal in both voice acting and live action before switching mediums.) His special interest is actually quite a common one, he loves dinosaurs. I've met a bunch of people on the spectrum that are fascinated by dinos and what they meant for the world as well as the universe as a whole. To me, there was one scene specifically that was the scene where Katie was lightly teasing him when they were going to the half assed dinosaur extravaganza. For me, this was SO relatable because both of my parents will mess with me about my interests most of the time it's when we go to Disneyland, they'll tell me that we actually aren't going to land of magic but to Timbuckto (hopefully one day they'll say some place else just to switch things up.) I related so hard to Aaron's protesting and whining in this scene since that is always my reaction to doing something that I want to do but get told that I can't do that thing.

Linda is more of your traditional mom but I think that she's on the spectrum as well. Just a more... normalized version as opposed to her family. She's able to be a teacher, she's able to interact somewhat normally around her neighbors. If anything, she reminded me of my own mom. This independent, takes nobody's trash (especially not her husband's), strong minded, and amazing mother who is completely in control of everything. She knows the special interests of her children and is constantly thinking of what will make them happy. Whether it be taking a detour for something dinosaur related, reminding her daughter that her dad loves her no matter what, and even something as simple as watching something that her daughter made and put her heart and soul into. I can't tell you how many times my mom has watched something with me. She watched my first anime Soul Eater with me when I was 12 and ever since then has been trying to get me to watch other shows with her. She's a lot like Linda, your loving, but firm mother who just wants her family to work things out.

Whew boy. This one is going to be probably where I cry. Comparing my dad to Rick is... something that I did consistently when I was watching the film. He's the strong but silent type usually, unless your me and he's just this constant annoyance when I'm trying to do something. He could be seen as just a "Jerk" but I think that is the undiagnosed aspie talking. Rick and Katie just struggle so hard to see eye to eye because their special interests can't intersect to save their lives. This, this hurt me because so often I struggle to relate to my dad. Especially when he talks to me about computers or physics. Now I took physics but without having been in quarantine and having him as my live in tutor I would have failed, not gotten an A. This has resulted me in saying things that I don't mean in the heat of the moment when we do argue. It doesn't happen nearly as much as it used to back when I was in middle school but when it happened it was because of one thing. I lied. I used to lie a lot because I felt so unworthy of being his daughter because on my best days I am not technically smart. You want to know how many nations of the world there were in 1991 when the original Animaniacs was airing? You want to hear my Dot Warner impression? Did you ever wonder how to recognize a specific voice when your watching anime? Have you ever had to watch a panel of your favorite anime voice actor just to laugh at something? No, well I did. But ever since I have started taking a quarter off from community college I have realized something. I am not technically smart. I struggle at learning the rules for math. My dad can do this with his eyes closed but me, I struggle and look like a complete moron. It took years for my dad and I to see eye to eye. Sometimes I still wonder if I was the product of some laboratory experiment of what would happen if two intelligent people came together, fell in love, and expecting that the daughter was smart I was the reject. Watching this movie with my dad I saw so much of my relationship with him on the screen. Struggling to relate to one another, fighting and getting into arguments about petty things, and not being able to be in the same room as one another without heated words because I didn't get him.

The scene that I related to the most when it was in terms of how much Katie just doesn't understand her dad was after he was nabbed by the machines. When Aaron asked her why she said those things to their dad and her simple answer was "I don't know." This. This right here was when I saw me. So many times I've gotten into heated arguments with my dad when he has simply annoyed me at the wrong time and I've just blown up in his face. Then I regret my actions and not know how to apologize for losing my temper with him because "I don't know" just doesn't seem like a nearly acceptable answer. I felt this in my soul because it happened especially often before I was diagnosed.

When I was diagnosed, things started to get better with my dad and I. We haven't had a fight in nearly four years now. He watches cartoons with me now to try and relate to me, it's mostly Pinky and The Brain but it's more than I could have ever asked for. I love my dad so much, more than anything in the entire world. This movie is so, so good at telling a story about how a family of undiagnosed aspie's and people on the spectrum struggle to relate to one another because their special interests are different.

Special interests and family's are especially difficult and I applaud this movie so loud because of the way that it was able to treat the subject matter with integrity and honesty. I'm sorry if this analysis got a little bit long in the toof but thank you for sticking with me! I really hope that if you watched the film you loved my analysis.

[luminnara]

God Damn, Shit Sucking Vampires | Poly lost boys x OC Chapter 7 18+ ONLY

HI SORRY FOR BEING SO SLOW!

Instead of a gif this time, I’ve got some art of Vera to share! By AmaAmaranth on twitter!

She looks so badass and it makes me so happy lol

Tags:  @americancowgirl19 @ilikechocolatemilkh​

Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8

Warnings for vampires doing their thing and nsfw

If Paul was a tornado, then Marko was a cyclone. He was just as insatiable--maybe even more, actually--and just as determined to taste every inch of Vera. He made a last minute decision to go to the beach instead of back to the cave, taking her to a nice secluded stretch of sand where they could enjoy the rest of their night without disruptions. 

“Oh, Marko,” she purred, tangling her fingers in his silky hair and giving it a tug. 

She pulled his face up from between her thighs and saw him licking his lips. He had been eating her out for several minutes and showed no desire to stop, his eyes yellow and his fangs already sharp and exposed. His mouth was sinfully talented, his tongue having already pulled a big, leg-shaking orgasm out of her. 

“Let me return the favor.”

Marko grinned, sitting back so that she could get up. Vera crawled across the sand towards him, unbuckling his chaps first and then his jeans. He bit his lip as he watched her, his cock already painfully hard, and the moment he felt her lips around it, he thought he might just die of pleasure. 

“Fuck, baby…” he moaned, grabbing a handful of her hair and guiding her head up and down. 

He was rougher than she imagined he might be...but then again, she should have known to be wary of his angelic face. With his hand in her hair, he rolled his hips into her mouth, shoving his cock down her throat and reveling at the sight of her as she looked up at him. He could feel blood dripping down his chin as he bit at his lip, practically gnawing on it as he tried not to lunge at her. She was so gorgeous, the way she stayed on her knees and took his entire cock into her throat, and fuck, he could smell her blood, so much blood...he wanted it, he wanted a taste, just one, fuck, he was going to lose it--

Vera could tell he was struggling to stay in control. She grinned around him, amused even as he forced her head down his length. She could tell that Marko wanted to pounce on her and sink his teeth into her flesh, but rather than just roll over and let him, she preferred to wait and see how long he could go before he totally lost it. So far, he was unraveling quickly, and it didn’t seem like she would have to do much more waiting. 

“Fuck!” He snarled, yanking her head up before she could make him cum.

His fangs were bared, his eyes wild, blood dripping down his chin. Without thinking, Vera crawled over him, their lips meeting in a kiss that left her hungry for more. The moment she tasted Marko’s blood, she could feel a rush of energy coursing through her body, and all she wanted to do was drown in the sweet, ruby liquid. It was morbid, but it was the truth; Vera was enthralled by the taste, obsessed with it, and, like many other vampires, she would have bathed in it if she could get enough of it into a tub all at once.

She sucked at the wound on his lip as she sank down onto his cock, moaning into his mouth as she felt him stretching her. Marko bucked his hips, wrapping his arms around her as he thrusted up into her, and they both soon found themselves lost in a whirlwind of pleasure, their heads swimming, their grunts and moans and sighs drowned out by the sound of the waves crashing against the sand. He dug his nails into her hips, leaving little crescent-shaped marks behind...until he truly lost himself and his fingers suddenly ended in claws, and he was doing his best to shred her flesh. 

The scent of blood was heavy in the air, and while Vera had had her fill of Marko’s, he still had yet to taste hers. He was impatient, and while Paul was more of a big rough puppy dog, Marko was purely dangerous, hungry and determined to get what he wanted. He sank his teeth into her throat, drinking greedily, completely taken by the rush of energy he received from her. Her blood was absolutely delicious, like nothing else he had ever tasted, and as he drank, he could feel her. He could feel all of her. Her hands on his skin, her mind against his own…she was there in her entirety, stalwart, strong, unmoved by the waves no matter how hard they crashed. Vera was like his rock, his weight, his anchor, keeping him in place. She was pain and she was pleasure. She was everything.

Mate. Pack.

Mate.

Mate mate mate mate mate--

His head was buzzing with an instinctual knowledge of what she was to him now, and just by sharing blood, he suddenly felt closer to her than anyone else in the world, even the other boys, if that was possible. He could feel all of their minds nudging his, eagerly checking in to see how things were going. Paul was elated, his mental voice loud and excited like it always was. David was pleased, though he was much calmer than Paul was, and Dwayne…

Dwayne was hungry. 

Marko could feel how impatient he was getting, and it surprised him. Dwayne was almost always in control of his emotions, aside from when a human managed to piss him off enough to deserve being torn in half. Now, he felt irritated and antsy, and Marko was glad that it would only be another night before his packmate had the chance to spend some alone time with Vera. 

That was another weird thing...he felt possessive of her, but not with them. He was never good at sharing, and he got in plenty of fights with Paul over weed and prey, but when it came to her...he was okay with handing her over to one of them. Because he trusted them, because they were all meant for her, too. But if anyone other than the boys tried to go after her...oh, he would rip their hands off. 

They stayed out there on the beach until the very first rays of sunlight started peeking up over the horizon. Vera was exhausted, laying at his side contentedly and dozing on and off. Marko could tell that the others were getting annoyed, David especially, and by the time the two returned to the cave, the boys were all over her.

Because they missed her that much.

“You took too long,” David growled, looking her over to make sure she was alright. His voice was stern, but not entirely angry, and when he saw how she looked, he backed off slightly. He couldn’t deny that she seemed happy, and when she was happy, he was happy. 

Vera held onto Marko’s arm, leaning against him slightly and looking up at him with those big, adoring eyes. He felt like he was melting whenever she did that, like his knees would give out at any moment. He had just spent the better part of a night with his cock buried inside of her, and yet she still managed to make him feel shy and vulnerable, and if he could, he would have blushed when she kissed his cheek and took David’s hand to go to bed. 

How did she manage that? How could she make him melt like candle wax, or ice cream on a hot summer night? She made him feel warm inside, in a way he hadn’t felt since he was still human. 

And that was a damn special thing for her to be able to do.

“So,” Paul slung his arm around Marko’s shoulders. “She’s good, huh?”

“Yeah,” the smaller vampire sighed. “Too good.”

-0-

Vera actually had a pleasant dream for once. 

Instead of stressful nightmares filled with pain and torture, she was blessed with a peaceful slumber, the kind that felt warm and inviting. For once, she didn’t want to wake up. For once, she felt completely safe and happy. Nothing could harm her. Nobody could get to her. 

Her night with Marko had left her feeling light and relaxed, and she went to bed safely cuddled up with David. He kept a tight hold on her, not wanting to let her shift away towards any of the others, but it seemed like his efforts were in vain when she found herself waking up in between Paul and Marko. They were both snoring softly and both seemingly determined to sleep in for as long as possible that evening, grunting when she tried to wriggle out of their grip. 

She ended up accidentally side stepping right into the one vampire she had yet to interact with very much:

Dwayne.

He was already awake, and when her back hit his chest, she suddenly heard a quiet, rumbly purring sound emanating from him. 

She turned to face him, slowly, cautiously. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Dwayne—she knew that he wouldn’t do anything unpredictable, and even if he did try to hurt her for some reason, she had three mates who would go to war if she asked them to. Dwayne was just big, and strong, and silent, and unlike the others, he hadn’t been making constant grabs at her. Compared to the way Paul and Marko fought for her attention, it just felt weird that Dwayne hadn’t even tried.

But now here he was, slowly, calmly moving to brush his nose over her head, taking in her scent as she inched closer. This would be Vera’s night with him, her chance to see if she really was the queen of their little pack, and assuming that all went well with Dwayne, she would probably be finally meeting Max afterwards. She would finally be catching a glimpse of the vampire who sired these four vicious, unruly boys. 

She would finally be part of the family.

“Good evening,” Dwayne said, chest rumbling. 

She let out a little involuntary sigh at the sound of his voice. It was deep and crunchy, no doubt due to the fact that he had just woken up, and she couldn’t deny that it had an effect on her. Even though she was the tiniest bit shy now that she was pressed up against him, Vera couldn’t help but lean into him, nuzzling up against his neck. He smelled wonderful and warm, his scent calming, just like the rest of him. 

“Sleep well?” He asked, his voice a deep rumble. 

“I did,” Vera sighed. 

“Good.” he brushed his nose through her hair as it hung in his face, inhaling her scent. “What would you like to do tonight?”

“I still haven’t gotten to check out a lot of the rides on the boardwalk,” Vera mused, leaning her cheek against his bare chest. 

“I’ll take you.”

“And I could go for a snack.”

“I’ll hunt for you.”

“A human snack.”

He gave her a confused look. “What else would we eat..?”

“Food? Human food?” She grinned. “C’mon, don’t you guys ever get pizza? Smear a little blood on it and it’s just divine.”

He couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. 

“The hell’re you two blabberin’ about?” Paul asked, still half asleep.

“Did someone say pizza?” Marko yawned. 

“See? I knew someone here liked it.” Vera laughed, twisting her head to look at them. 

“You haven’t had fresh pizza in years.” David spoke up, eyes still closed. 

“Define fresh,” Marko said. 

“We’re pizza enthusiasts.” Paul said. 

“These sewer rats pick it outta the garbage when they’re bored.” David drawled. 

“And it’s still good,” Paul said defensively. 

Vera wrinkled her nose. “Why don’t you ever just...buy it?”

“Because David says we don’t need it,” Paul said, jabbing the platinum blond.

“Because you don’t.” David growled.

“Yeah but it’s good,” Vera whined. 

He was no match for those big, pleading eyes, and he immediately relented. “....fine. But we hunt first.”

A short while later, Laddie was off with Star, and Vera was digging into the jugular of a guy who had dared to look at her funny. The sand was red with blood, the waves washing some of it away, and as the others tossed the bodies of their victims into a nearby bonfire, Vera sat down next to David.

“You alright, sweetheart?” He asked, lighting a cigarette. 

“I think so,” she said, mumbling a bit. 

David stuck his cigarette between his lips and took a drag, tugging her up against his side. “Sire bothering you tonight?”

“No.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Not yet. But, uh, speaking of sires…”

“Yes?”

“What’s Max like?”

David wrinkled his nose slightly. “You worried about him?”

“I might be.”

He sighed. “He’s...fine.”

“Just fine?” Vera asked nervously. “Is that good or bad?”

“What am I supposed to say? He’s my sire. He’s like an annoying father.”

“Were you his first one?” 

“Far as I know.” He shrugged. “If there were others, they died a long time before I came around.”

“Where are you from?”

“You’ve got a lotta questions tonight.”

“So? I’m allowed to be curious about the guy I’m spending eternity with, aren’t I?”

“Sounds less like curiosity and more like you’re terrified of Max. Are you so nervous that you’re trying to delay meeting him?”

“No!” She snapped.

“You are.” Dwayne appeared before her, a small smile on his face. He looked amused. 

It made her scowl.

“I don’t know why you guys think that. I’m not scared, I’m just...cautious.” Vera huffed. 

“It’ll be fine. Let’s go get you that pizza.” Dwayne said nonchalantly. 

“Pizza!” Paul shouted, tripping over himself as he and Marko raced towards the others. 

They skidded to a stop, falling in a tangle of limbs right in front of Vera. Their antics had her smiling, and all four vampires noticed, sharing smug glances with each other. They all wanted to see her happy, and they all noticed whenever she seemed stressed or down. Even though it had only been a few days since they met her, their bonds were already so strong and they already felt so close to her that they couldn’t stand the thought of her being upset.

“Then let’s go,” she said, allowing Dwayne to take her hand and pull her to her feet. 

When he swung her onto his back, she squealed in surprise, immediately locking her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. He only laughed, trudging through the sand with the others as if he didn’t even notice her weight on him. And maybe he didn’t—after all, he was a big, strong vampire. He could carry a horse on his shoulders without struggling, and he knew because he had done it several times, back before cars were around. Vera felt like nothing in comparison. 

“Wait, wait,” Paul stopped walking, patting his jacket down as he searched for something. “Where the fuck—Marko, you got my weed?”

“No, but I got mine.” Marko pulled a squished-looking joint out of his pocket. 

“Angel of my life,” Paul gave a dramatic, relieved sigh and snatched it out of his hand. “Can’t have pizza without weed.”

“Definitely makes it more palatable,” David grumbled as he led them up to the boardwalk.

“You don’t like it?” Vera asked. 

“David doesn’t like any human food,” Marko said. 

“Why? Does it give you indigestion?”

Paul let out a loud laugh as he pulled a lighter out. “Probably.”

“No!” David snapped at him. “It just tastes like shit.” 

“That’s because you haven’t tried it my way,” Vera rolled her eyes. 

“And what exactly is your way, sweetheart?” David asked. 

“You just gotta add the right toppings,” She said as Paul lit the joint and handed it to her. 

She puffed on it, turning her head to exhale her smoke away from Dwayne’s face. A few nearby boardwalk-goers wrinkled their noses at her, looking thoroughly disgusted by the gang as they strode past. The boys only laughed at their expressions, Marko leering at them as he took the joint from Vera.

It was passed around as they walked, Dwayne letting go of one of her legs to take a hit when it was his turn. He was carrying her with such ease, as if she weighed absolutely nothing, and she knew that to him, that was pretty much true. If she tried, and if she wanted to, she could probably carry him just as easily. 

But she didn’t want to, because she would much rather be carried than do the carrying. 

“Hey!” A portly security guard stepped out in front of them. 

Paul quickly stashed the joint in his jacket, as if the guard wouldn’t be able to smell the hazy cloud of weed lingering around the group. 

“Haven’t we already spoken about this?” The security guard asked roughly. 

“Well, officer, I’m afraid I don’t recall,” David said, lip pulled up in a small sneer. 

The human narrowed his eyes at all of them. As far as he was concerned, they were just a gang of ne’er-do-wells, a bunch of kids who were never up to any good. He had been a security guard on the Santa Carla boardwalk for a number of years, and while it was a chaotic place full of transients who came and went, he could remember his job being far easier back before these boys showed up. It had been a few years--or was it longer? He couldn’t remember anymore, dammit-- since they first appeared, and he always ended up with a headache whenever they were around. They were just troublemakers, through and through, always getting in fights with other gangs, riding those loud bikes of theirs up and down the beach, breaking just about every rule they possibly could just for the fun of it. 

He supposed they weren’t completely at fault for the way they turned out. In a place like Santa Carla, where there was so much illicit activity going on, kids like them usually didn’t come from happy homes. He didn’t know where they came from, and he didn’t really care, but he did wish that whatever had happened to make them this way hadn’t so that he wouldn’t have to deal with The Lost Boys. 

The guard didn’t like interacting with them. They were rude, especially the leader. He always acted like he was better than everyone else, and he was always quick to get irritated whenever he was told to stop doing something. It seemed like tonight wasn’t any different, and after a few days off, Vernon was back to trying to keep the peace between these boys and the rest of the boardwalk. 

“No smoking on the boardwalk,” he said gruffly, glaring at the four of them. 

“Who’s smoking?” David asked, looking at the others in pretend shock. “Paul, are you smoking? On Vernon’s watch?”

“Me? Nah, no way!” Paul coughed, letting out a puff of smoke he had been holding in for significantly longer than any human should have been able to. He immediately socked Marko in the arm. “You’re not supposed to smoke on Vernon’s boardwalk, Marko!”

“Ow, hey!” Marko rubbed his arm, but before he could retaliate, Paul was already running. The two tore off in the direction they had all originally been heading, narrowly missing bystanders in their hurry to get away and smoke some more.

Vernon looked absolutely exhausted. 

Dwayne was silent, as always, staring him down with those dark eyes. It was then that Vernon finally noticed the girl clinging to the man’s back, and he was immediately concerned. ‘

“Are these boys bothering you, miss?” he asked, hand hovering near the baton he wore on his belt. 

David noticed the slight movement and couldn’t help but snort a laugh. “Bothering her? Course not. She’s with us.”

“Wasn’t asking you,” the guard snapped. 

For a second, Vera thought David was going to kill him then and there. Her mate’s eyes narrowed menacingly, his lip raised in a sneer that she was sure was about to turn into a snarl. He was pissed, and she didn’t need to feel his thoughts to tell. 

He managed to rein himself back in, though, determined to stay in control. Besides, it would be downright embarrassing to be out there acting like a newly-turned vampire, and he wouldn’t be able to stand the ridicule from Paul and Marko. 

So he did his best to behave.

When she saw that David wasn’t going to totally lose it, Vera smiled at the security guard. “No trouble here, officer.”

He didn’t look like he believed her. “You sure? Haven’t seen you around here, so you might not know...but you’d be doing yourself a favor and keeping yourself safer if you stayed away from these four.”

David and Dwayne both chuckled. 

“They seem perfectly harmless to me,” Vera said, rubbing her cheek against Dwayne’s affectionately. 

It made him so happy that he started purring for a moment before he remembered that there was a human standing in front of him and he toned it down again. 

“So thanks for your concern, really,” Vera continued, “but I’m right where I wanna be.”

[baizhuo]

what i want - what i YEARN actually - is for the discussion , the interaction , of baizhu where he’s mad . no . not just MAD , but ANGRY . angry & bitter . he’s in pain . he’s hurt . he’s lonely & he’s sad . it’s not always that he shows it , nor is he alwasy emotional like that - since he tends to let go - but this ... THIS ? this , he cannot let go . 

again , he’s hurt & he’s just so ANGRY . angry at what ? angry at time . angry at the cards he’s been played . he’s mad at what seems like the world . and why ?

well .. he would probably respond with ‘ isn’t it obvious ? ‘ but nay , it’s not . it’s actually not so straightforward . nobody know . he’s never let anybody in to let them know . he’s been so private about himself and his life that NOBODY know . but ... for him . it’s obvious . & its so simple . 

baizhu is angry at time because of what time has TAKEN from him . 

his wife . his child . his family . they’re GONE . & all that’s left is him . and he struggles to COPE with that . he had all he wanted . all at an arm’s reach - in an arm’s embrace -  & just like that . they were gone . they’re gone & he struggles with that . they’re gone and he’s angry about that . but even more than that ... they’re gone & he’s OBSESSED with that . 

so yes , i want an interaction with baizhu completely & wholly in that mindset . it’s terrifying but it’s the most emotional he’ll get . he’ll be so raw , his walls would be completely torn down , & you would see just how HUMAN he can be . he’s always kept such a formal air about him before , but this would just show just how WEAK he really feels all the time . 

& it’s not like he means to be so ANGRY & bitter , but when he has to carry such an IMMENSE amount of weight - of grief , of pain , & of heartbreak - it seems like it’s only natural that he’ll slip up every once & a while . 

though rare , he really just feels like the world is against him , & it infuriates him . it makes him angry . while he still has love & care for others , there is still a deep hatred for ‘ time ’ . there is self loathing & there is self doubt . hell , the bitterness & anger that resides in him is perhaps a minor reason as to what makes him survive . because he’s also petty . 

he’s determined to stay alive for as long as he can to keep their memory alive , but also because he simply doesn’t want that memory to be forgotten either . 

he may be dying physically , but his passion is far from that . though that isn’t always a good thing either . while his emotions are unyielding - & thriving silently - his mentality has a constant strain to balance everything out . 

[valentina-writes]

I would go under the Mountain for you

Request: @eve-d : Could you do a don’t look a me like that, maybe Azriel looking at the reader like he loves her and she doesn’t know how to react yet or Azriel asking her if she’s wearing his shirt and teasing her thank u

A/N: Hey, I hope this is not too far from what you wanted. I'm sorry, I got carried away a little bit when writing this, maybe it's too angsty!

Word Count: 1.6k

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You were standing at the entrance to the Court of Nightmares, Rhys, Azriel and Mor around you. You hated this. You hated the Hewn City, its people and the role you had to play every time Rhys took you there.

Trying to calm yourself down, you thought of Velaris, your home. The rest of the inner circle that awaited you there. Everything would be fine, you had done this so many times already and it had always gone well.

You thought about the dress you wore, running your hands over the fabric. It helped you prepare for the way you had to act in a few minutes. You thought of the fearless, ruthless person you were in this dress, thought of the respect on the faces of Keir’s people when they saw you.

Suddenly, you felt a movement to your right. Azriel had stepped up, now standing only a few inches away from you. His shadows were uncontrollably swirling around him. He hated these visits just as much as you did, though for a different reason. The darkness there reminded him of his childhood, the location hewn into a mountain of the feeling of being imprisoned.

But today, your friend didn’t look at the mountain before him with his usual concerned face. No, he looked at you. Concerned, yes. But there was something else in his eyes, as he eyed you up and down, that made you shiver. It felt so intimate and gentle. His eyes spoke of comfort and … and affection.

He didn’t look away, even when your eyes met his. Instead, his gaze got even more longing. Never, in the many years you had been alive, had anybody ever looked at you the way he did now. He wanted you, yes. But not only in the physical way that other people’s eyes spoke of when looking at you, no. It looked like he wanted so much more. Kisses and romance, sweet nothings and quiet mornings spent with you. A relationship.

You had had feelings for Azriel for quite some time already but had never told him. Not now, you always thought. There was always something that made it impossible for the two of you to be together. Wars and battles, missions and threats. Not to speak of his obvious love for Morrigan.

“Don’t look at me like that”, you said, turning away from him. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed him shifting his weight and calling his shadows back. Now they clung tightly to his body.

“Like what?”, he quietly asked. You gulped. Had you only imagined this look? Were you so desperate?

Rhys gave you a sign to follow him. Mentally, you prepared yourself for what was yet to come and gulped down your fear as you answered: “Like you could ever love me”.

You didn’t dare looking at his face, sure that you had misinterpreted his behavior. He loved Mor and you couldn’t judge him for it. Now, you just felt incredibly stupid for having said something.

He would never love you. Never. And even if he did, it most certainly wasn’t time for catching feelings now.

Word had that a fae named Amarantha from Hybern had cursed the spring court last night and was building up a court under the mountain. It was only a matter of time, when you would also be enslaved. Azriel knew this. He had helped Rhys to come up with an idea how to hide Velaris. He had said this would possibly be our last visit to the Court of Nightmares. It was only a matter of hours or days.

You pushed your feelings aside. None of your personal relationships mattered now. Keeping your calm in front of Mor’s father was already big enough of a struggle without the threat of war and the fear of losing the person you loved most.

Without risking a glance in his direction again, you held your head up high and strode into the throne room, only shortly behind Rhys, Mor now between you and Az.

What awaited you was the usual sight. Food, drinks, the huge throne and people. But today, nobody even really noticed you. They knew something was going on. They didn’t know what, but most certainly that this was not a normal visit.

Rhys sat down on his throne and everyone around you reluctantly bowed to him. Normally, he stayed on his throne, observing Keir’s people for a while, asserting dominance. Not today. Immediately after having sat down, he shot Mor and Keir a glance and together they disappeared to talk.

You and Azriel were left behind to spy and to keep rumors from spreading.

As confidently as possible you got yourself a glass of wine, sipping on it and watching over the crowd. So far, nothing special had happened. Music had begun to play, but most people just stood there talking to each other, occasionally glancing up to you and the intimidating Illyrian hidden in his shadows next to you.

“Can we talk?”, he asked you so silently that only you could hear it over the music.

“I don’t know what we should talk about”, you answered. You had no intention of anyone overhearing a private conversation. And no intention of realizing that he loved you, only to lose him soon again.

“Y/n”, he started, now sending some of his shadows away to fill out the darkness around the people to listen in on their conversations, “I … You know what I mean”. You dared to look at him. His gaze was the same as before you entered the Hewn City. It almost made your heart stop, almost made you forget that this was impossible. That you had no future.

“Don’t make it worse than it already is, Az”, you said, trying to keep control over your facial expressions, “We don’t even know if we will still be alive by tomorrow. We don’t know what will happen or if Hybern will declare war on us. I … I can’t do this. I can’t. There is no future for this relationship”. You looked away again, acting as if you observed the crowd, but your head was running wild.

“I love you, y/n”, he said. Four words. Only four words that shifted your entire world. He loved you. But this only made it worse. You looked back at his face, wanting to cry at the sight. His hazel eyes glowing in the dark, a rare smile on his face.

“I’m sorry”, you whispered, “I’m not ready for this. Even … even if it weren’t for the conflict with Hybern … there is still Mor. You love her, have loved her for as long as I can remember. I don’t know how to react, I don’t even know what to think”. While saying this, you never shifted your gaze away from him. It broke your heart to see Azriel’s face shift from happy and loving to expressionless. Only his eyes were telling how hurt he actually was.

You had not meant to hurt him that way. If somebody deserved to be loved, it was most definitely him.

All of a sudden the two of you were surrounded by his shadows and he moved with you through the darkness, unseen by the crowd. He didn’t care about his spying job anymore, you saw that on his face. He didn’t care about what the people thought.

You were in a corridor, farther away from the crowd. The music was barely audible through his shadows that still separated you from the outside world.

“I love you”, he repeated, “I love you so, so much. I have loved you for a long time, but never said anything. We are friends, I didn’t want to ruin this. And Mor… yes, I had feelings for her. But they are nothing against what I feel for you. Even … even if this is our last day in freedom, even if Amarantha will get us, it would be worth it. Because I would rather spend a day or even just a few hours with you in freedom than no time at all. I would rather die knowing that we had this time together, than realizing that I was a coward and never got a chance to kiss you”. You stared at him in shock. Never, never would you have thought that his feelings for you ran so deep. And never had you heard him speaking so many sentences without being interrupted or stopping mid-sentence out of shyness.

You were still processing this, when he said: “Rhys is planning something. He … he wants to make sure we are safe. I can see it in his eyes, he is keeping something from us. But even if he fails to protect us … I believe that there is a life after this one. And I believe that we will meet again”.

All you could do was throw your arms around him, hugging him tightly. The possibility of his death was now more prominent than ever, but the fear you had felt all day long disappeared at his touch. You would be safe. And even if not, he would be right by your side.

“I love you too, Az”, you answered, “We will find a way. It will work out. I only wish I would’ve told you a long time ago”.

He held you a little farther away from him, so he could see your face. Then his lips crashed against yours. The kiss told you about his desperation, the yearning he had felt for such a long time, not knowing how to express it. And in this moment, you wouldn’t even have noticed if the world was ending or if Amarantha had arrived here to curse your beloved Night Court too. The only important thing in this moment was Azriel. And now you understood what he had said earlier. Even if you would only have this moment together, it was worth it.

[writesowhatnext]

pretending is a gateway drug // george weasley

Summary: George bribes the reader into being his fake girlfriend for forty-two days, you can imagine how that plays out.

Request: hey lovey! absolutely in love with your writing; it’s so beautiful and i just cannot get enough of it! if your requests are open (and you like the idea) could i ask for our beloved george x reader—i’ve recently been obsessed with fake dating tropes where they end up together in the end.. i don’t have anything specific in mind for the plot, i know whatever you come up with will be fabulous :D thanks a ton darling.. keep on writing, you have a gift, x

A/N: I love this trope so much and this was the sweetest compliment and I was beyond excited to start this – also I usually try to keep it gender neutral but it was a struggle with this so sorry about that :( also this is so long oh my god

Reader: female

Warnings: female reader, making out

You hadn’t heard George sneak up behind you, but being friends with the twins for as long as you had, you weren’t surprised easily.

“Y/N, I need a favour,” he said, leaning on the bookshelf you were rifling through. You didn’t turn to face him; you already knew it was George by his voice.

“No.”

You dragged your fingers across the spines of a few books before finding the book on Potions you were after, a disproportionately happy smile lifting your cheeks at the prospect.

“You don’t even know what it is!”

You huffed, running your tongue over your teeth before turning to him, tilting your head.

“Fine. What is it?”

You raised your eyebrow, leaning the book on your hip. He smiled slightly.

“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend.”

You blinked at him, staring at his hopeful expression.

“No.”

And with that, you walked over to Madam Pince to sign out the book. George stayed a few feet behind you, not wanting to incur Madam Pince’s wrath as he had done countless times before. Fred and George were notorious in the library; once they’d made Pince so mad she banned them for a month before McGonagall convinced her they needed to use the library for their studies. A laughable idea.

“Thank you,” you said to the librarian. She shot George a deathly glare over your shoulder and you couldn’t help but enjoy his discomfort. She then directed it at you and you found yourself walking toward the exit very quickly.

“Come on, Y/N, please!” George begged, walking next to you back to the Gryffindor common room.

“No.”

“Please…”

“Nope.”

“What if I split the money with you?”

You stopped in your tracks, frowning and turning your head towards him.

“What money?”

You wanted to punch him for the cheerful grin that erupted on his face.

“I am so very glad you asked. Ron said that I couldn’t get a girlfriend if I tried, which is a bit rich, really, don’t you think?”

Something about your expression told him he should get to the point.

“Anyway, so, Ron made a bet with Fred that I couldn’t get a girlfriend before the Yule Ball.”

“So why not just get one of the Beauxbatons girls to date you? It’s like two months away.”

“Forty-two days, actually. And, I don’t actually want a girlfriend.”

You narrowed your eyes.

“I don’t believe you.”

He rolled his eyes and grabbed your shoulders, spinning you around to face the window, the whole of Hogwarts in the view.

“There is a whole world of girls to make out with out there, Y/N. Now, why would I limit myself?”

You turned your head to face him, his face very close to yours from where he stood with his palms still sat on your shoulders. Your face felt warm all of a sudden.

“I hate you.”

“I know,” he smiled, letting you go so you could turn around. “But will you help me?”

“Why me? Why not Angelina? Or Katie?”

“Fred’s got his eye on Angelina and I think Katie actually fancies me…” his expression turned from pensive to cocky in almost a second. “Can’t blame her really.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms, your book perched in your hand.

“How much?”

“The bet’s four galleons.”

“Four?” you echoed, frowning. “Bloody hell, Ron must really think you’re undesirable.”

You smirked, tilted your head to the side. “Can’t blame him really.”

“Oi!” George huffed, pushing you to the side. You shoved him back, starting to walk again.

“I’ll do it for two galleons.”

“Two galleons! That’s bloody half!”

“Nice to see your years of Arithmancy has paid off.”

“That only leaves a galleon each for me and Fred.”

“Without me, it leaves nothing for you and Fred, because without me, you won’t win the bet.”

He stared at you for a moment, the only sound: your in-sync footsteps down the corridor.

“Fine.”

“When do we start then, boyfriend?” you asked, stopping directly outside the Fat Lady’s portrait and swivelling to face George with a smug grin, enjoying his annoyed reluctance far too much.

“Right now, girlfriend.”

And so, that’s how became George Weasley’s girlfriend in four minutes – no doubt a new record for him. When you walked inside, you rushed to sit down first, as you always did, and ended up on the opposite side of the sofa to Fred, your feet stretched out towards him and your back against the arm. As he always did, George lifted your feet with an eye roll and sat underneath them, resting them on his lap. The others all greeted you but nobody batted an eyelid.

But then George placed his hand on your leg, just above your knee and you felt your breath hitch at the contact. He seemed to notice your unease and turned to you, a silent question in his eyes as he began to rub his thumb up and down. You shot him a small smile, mainly for any audience you may have had, you told yourself, but you couldn’t deny how nice it felt, though and that both scared and delighted you.

“I’m sorry,” Fred said, his voice loud as he looked at you. No one had really heard him yet, but you knew it wouldn’t stop him, he was relentless. His eyes were full of amusement and you could only imagine how much he’d enjoy this whole arrangement. “What is happening here?”

He pointed at George’s hand on your knee and for some reason, George had the good sense to look almost bashful at the attention. Some part of you didn’t want him to make it a big deal or obvious but you couldn’t figure out why exactly.

“Bit saucy for you two, isn’t it?”

With a scowl, you lifted up the leg George’s hand wasn’t rested on and kicked Fred in the side, earning a grunt in response.

“Shut up, Fred,” you whispered, trying not to draw attention to yourself. George laughed at his twin’s pained expression.

“Brilliant, love.” He said so easily it was almost natural. You froze at the pet-name but thankfully you could blame it on Ron’s outburst that had cut through the room.

“Is something going on with you two?” he asked suspiciously, looking between you and George accusingly.

“Get a grip,” Ginny insisted, “Y/N would never stoop that low.”

You smiled at her comment but you knew you’d have to do something pretty convincing to earn your two galleons.

“Oh, shut up, Ron,” you said half-heartedly, drawing every eye listening to you. George’s hand squeezed your leg comfortingly, or maybe warningly. Hermione frowned, leaning forward.

“Are you dating George?”

You pursed your lips and leant into the back of the sofa, automatically towards George, a force of habit you weren’t aware of.

“Wow,” Harry said, rather observantly for him. You rolled your eyes before standing up and walking away from them. You knew all eyes were on you and so, you stopped and turned, eyebrows drawn down.

“You coming?”

George’s face lit up at your words and he stood up, grinning as he raced over to you. As you both walked towards the boys’ dorms, you could feel their stares on your back. George could too, it seemed, and as you started up the stairs, he rested a hand on your hip. You knew, at that point, that you were definitely getting paid after this.

You were two weeks in when you started slipping. You hadn’t forgotten that you were supposed to be dating, in fact, it seemed like you’d forgotten that you weren’t really. Something about George just felt so right and easy. He’d put his arm around your waist when you sat next to him or around your shoulder in the corridor and he’d kiss your hairline before he left and your cheek when you’d done something to be proud of. You spent more time with him to keep up appearances and whilst you knew you liked George - he was one of your best friends for a reason - you didn’t realise how much you liked his company. He made you laugh until you thought you’d throw up and smile so much your cheeks would ache. You had to remind yourself it wasn’t real but you didn’t suspect anything untoward about your feelings really – you were just close with your best friend, is all.

Ron, however, was immensely suspicious. After three weeks of the pretence, he stormed in to find you lying on the sofa with George, your head on his shoulder with his arm wrapped around you as you played with each other’s hands, talking about nothing. It wouldn’t have been an uncommon sight before your business deal but now everybody thought you were dating, there was something strangely intimate about it.

“I know you’re faking it,” Ron said, frowning and pointing his finger at you both. You snorted and George frowned, neither of you moving.

“Okay?” you said, not at all fazed. Maybe you’d gotten a little too used to it.

“I’ve never seen you kiss.”

You shot Ron a strange look before you felt George’s lips briefly pressed against the side of your head. Ron rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, a smug expression on his face.

“I meant properly. I’ve never seen you kiss properly.”

Fred, who’d only just arrived, sat down on a chair opposite you with an amused smile.

“You’re a right little pervert. Aren’t you, Ronniekins?”

“Oh, piss off, Fred. You know I’m right!”

“Fine,” George said, shuffling a little bit and sitting you both up. He stood on the sofa, dragging you up with him. He ignored your confused expression, looking around the busy common room with a grin. “Ladies, gentlemen and Ron, this is my very real girlfriend and we are very really dating and I love her very much.”

You knew it wasn’t real and you were fine with that, you thought. You couldn’t ignore, though, the unsettling feeling in your stomach. You didn’t have time to think on it though because within seconds, George had grabbed your face in his large, warm hands and kissed you. You were understandably startled at first, completely unprepared and very much not convinced about how fake the whole thing was – it certainly didn’t feel fake when he bit softly at your bottom lip. There were multiple wolf whistles and hoots from the people around, mostly Fred, you suspected. You couldn’t focus on them as your hands shot to George’s chest in surprise, his jumper soft under your fingertips. He leant you back a little bit, one of his hands holding you close to him by the small of your back. It wasn’t until you felt lightheaded that he pulled away.

Slightly dazed, you looked up at him and he sent you a dazzling smile before he turned to Ron, who was as red as a tomato and swallowing gruffly.

“Fine,” he muttered, shaking his head. He all but slumped away, cursing under his breath.

George turned to you, a smile on his face, as everyone decided they had better things to do than stare at you and George making out. You felt a lump in your throat as you stared at him and for a moment, it all felt way too real; one hand on your back and the other cupping your jaw, you felt like he was still kissing you and suddenly you couldn’t breathe again. George opened his mouth to speak but Fred beat him to it. His face was a lot lower than yours were from his place on the floor, a ridiculously smug smile on his lips.

“Brilliant work, you two,” he said cheerily, staring at you for a fraction too long. “Truly dedicated to the cause.”

You felt sick at his words, but you nodded anyway.

“Thanks for going with me there, Y/N. We definitely sold that kiss.”

You nodded again, feeling empty. Nothing made you feel more hollow, though than when George’s hands left you.

“Ready to go give Filch a lunchtime he won’t regret?”

“Always,” George replied, beyond excited. He shot you a wink before disappearing with his brother through the portrait hole. You sat down on the sofa with a huff, your eyes sad and your heart tied to an anchor.

You avoided George the fourth week. Not enough to make anyone suspicious, but enough to make you feel less horrible about the whole situation. You weren’t ready to think about why it had been bothering you so much; you knew it was fake when you signed up for it and it wasn’t like you liked George or anything. Fortunately, a voice calling your name interrupted you before you could go down that rabbit hole. Unfortunately, the voice belonged to George and he was chasing after you, rushing past shorter students. You knew full well you couldn’t avoid him, no matter how much you wanted to, so you plastered a big smile on your face and turned to him, fully aware that noise carried on the moving staircases.

“Georgie,” you said happily, ignoring the gnawing feeling inside. “How’re you?”

You expected an equally fake response from him, but, as always, he surprised you. He grabbed the top of your arm lightly and pulled you into a deserted classroom, shutting the door behind you and dropping his hand.

“Why are you avoiding me?” he asked, his eyebrows drawn together and eyes full of, what looked like, hurt. He was a better actor than you gave him credit for.

“What do you mean?” Your voice was the same light and airy tone you’d used in the corridor and it clearly wasn’t sitting well with George.

“No, no,” he shook his head, his long red hair swishing with the movement. He did look very handsome- “None of that crap, I’m serious. Why’re you avoiding me?”

“Why?” you frowned. “Does someone suspect something?”

“What?” he looked visibly taken aback. “No, forget that. I want to know why my best friend is ignoring me.”

You swallowed, not really looking at him, but through him.

“It’s nothing, George.”

“It’s clearly not nothing-“

“George, give it a rest, please.”

He paused, noticing how upset you seemed. He went to brush away a stray lock of hair from your cheek when you pulled away, avoiding his eyes.

“I’ll make sure nobody questions anything, don’t worry,” you said before rushing around him, leaving the door open behind you.

George officially didn’t know what he was doing. It seemed like a great idea, at first. He needed a fake girlfriend, his best friend was a girl and Fred had agreed, he’d pushed him to ask you and it was going great, it was very convincing. Truth be told, he loved it. He loved making you laugh and he loved the casual touches and the affection. But then he kissed you, and something changed and now you wouldn’t even talk to him.

“Fred?” he asked, sitting on the floor of his dorm opposite his brother. “Do you think I’ve messed it all up with Y/N?”

“What?”

Fred, who rarely worried about anything in life, was concerned. As soon as Ron had teased George about getting a girlfriend, he’d orchestrated the whole thing to try and get the two of you together. He’d been right, as well; those few weeks you spent pretending only further convinced him that you were both perfect for each other. But now, sitting there, playing around with random inventions, he felt slightly guilty.

“She won’t talk to me,” he paused, “I think it’s this stupid bet.”

Fred had never seen George look so sad.

“After I kissed her, she’s just been acting so weird. I just-“ he paused again, sighing. “I just want my best friend back.”

Whilst Fred was, of course, very sympathetic to his brother’s plight, he’d stopped listening. George’s words only further solidified his belief – if you freaked out after kissing George, there was only one reason why and he would get it out of you, kicking and screaming.

“You fancy George,” he said the next day, following you into an empty corridor on your way to the library to return a book.

“Firstly, stop following me, you creepy sod. Secondly, of course, I do,” your voice grew an edge, “he’s my boyfriend.”

“Now we both know, dear Y/N, that that is not what I meant.”

You stopped walking and frowned at him; his smile only grew.

“See, I thought about why kissing him would freak you out so much and it just became so blindingly obvious. I mean you picked the less good-looking twin, but I can understand it-“

“Does he know?” you asked, and Fred’s amusement faded when he saw your panic.

“No, but I suggest you talk to him about it. It’s definitely in your best interest.”

With that, he strolled in the opposite direction, whislting with his hands shoved in his pockets, leaving you with a big decision and also, probably, a library fine.

You didn’t decide to talk to George until dinner. You sat next to him the whole time, your arms touching, but never really interacting with each other and that only created a black hole in your chest. You couldn’t cope without George, as your best friend or the something more you knew you wanted him to be. After you’d both finished eating, you reached over and grabbed his hand, his head jolting towards you at the contact.

“Can we talk?” you asked quietly, everyone else too concentrated on their food to hear you. He nodded and with a carefully calculated routine, you walked out of the Great Hall hand in hand. Your hands dropped as soon as you turned the corner and that alone made you feel sick.

“George-“

“Y/N-“

You both stopped, nervous, breathy laughter filling the corridor over the soft hum of people talking from the hall next door.

“You go first,” you insisted, desperate to avoid what you knew you had to do.

“Well,” he scratched the back of his neck with his hand before sighing. “This whole thing started off really nice, like really nice,” your eyebrows drew downwards at the soft pink flush of his cheeks.

“But now it’s weird and we’re weird and I- Y/N, I don’t want us to be weird. I don’t care about four stupid galleons; I care about my best friend-“

“George, I like you. Like, like like you ”

You had to curse yourself for your timing, but you just couldn’t hold it in, looking at his sweet expression as his mouth said such nice things.

“What?”

You screwed your eyes shut and let out a shaky exhale.

“I didn’t know I did until we were pretending and then there was all the touching and the talking and it just felt so right and then you kissed me and I didn’t know what to do because it wasn’t real and all I wanted it to be was real and I didn’t know-“

His lips were on yours and his hands, cupping your jaw gently, pulled you into him. You barely registered it before he pulled away, a large smile on his face that only grew larger with your bewildered expression.

“Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?” he asked, wetting his lips as his thumb lightly brushed your cheekbone. You blinked at him, your mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.

“For real?”

He laughed.

“For real.”

You couldn’t help the slow smile that lifted your cheeks, unable to contain the happiness that flodded through you. Your whole body felt light and George’s smitten expression made your heart soar. His eyes twinkled and you knew that yours would be just as ecstatic.

“I thought you didn’t want to limit yourself to just one-“

Before you could finish your teasing remark, he was kissing you again and this time, it was even better; this time it was for real.

harry potter tag list:

@creator-appreciator

@loveisblindness​

@decadentwastelandtrash - I’m having trouble tagging you I’m sorry!!

@xinyourdreamsx​ 

@brainlesspasta​ 

[little-mad]

Downsides of Thievery Pt. 1

~ Next Part ~

“Maybe stealing from an interdimensional diplomat wasn’t my greatest idea,” Gavin thought to himself from his current position in a jail cell.

He’d been hesitant about the job right away. Stealing from humans was one thing, but stealing from alteons was on a whole new level. However, the payment the client had offered Gavin had been too tantalizing to refuse. Who knew it was bad to be greedy?

“Shit,” he grumbled under his breath. How was he supposed to know the diplomat would have some weird magical artifact thing that could detect and identify trespassers? That was just unfair. Gavin was a good thief, so good that he’d managed to make a career out of it. If he had been caught due to his own ineptitude maybe he wouldn’t be so peeved. But this was just a matter of not having enough information. Thus making it unfair.

Prison was something every criminal feared, but it was also something every criminal prepared for in some sense. If Gavin was headed for prison, he might not be so worried. Sure it would suck, but at least he felt sure his undeniable charms would make him friends in no time. But Gavin wasn’t headed for prison--no, he was being extradited to the alteon dimension.

Gavin shivered at the thought. Despite having stolen from one, he had never actually seen an alteon in person. Pictures and videos could only do so much, at least that’s what people said. Apparently the true gravity of an alteon’s massive size couldn’t be understood until you saw one in real life.

Not only would Gavin quite literally be put in the hands of an alteon, but he would also be getting taken to a completely different dimension that only a few very important humans had ever visited before. Maybe he should’ve felt special.

Were the circumstances different, Gavin might’ve even felt excited for the adventure. His work had taken him all over the world, it would be thrilling to get to see a whole new one. However, he had a feeling he wouldn’t exactly be getting the grand tour.

It was at that moment that Gavin began to hear footsteps approaching his cell. A few moments later, two business-suit clad federal agents appeared. Gavin scrambled to his feet and took several unconscious steps towards the back wall. The key jangling in one of the agents’ hands told him exactly what time it was.

“Your ride is here,” the female agent announced, a slight smirk playing at the corner of her lips.

Gavin scowled.

The key carrying agent swiftly unlocked the door and beckoned for Gavin to exit the cell. “Come on, we don’t have all day,” he stated impatiently.

“Aren’t you going to cuff me or something?” Gavin questioned, taking note of the fact that neither agent had brought handcuffs with them.

The woman’s smirk grew but she remained silent. “The alteon won’t need cuffs to restrain you,” the man responded.

Gavin instantly felt the pit of fear in his stomach grow. Horrible images of himself trapped in gigantic hands were invading his mind. Being given over to the alteons meant that his civil rights would be essentially irrelevant. Unless alteons had laws protecting humans, which he doubted, then they could do pretty much whatever they wanted with him. Gavin swallowed hard.

“A-actually, I’m okay staying here…” he stammered. God, he hated how pathetic he sounded. Gavin’s line of work required a lot of guts, and while a healthy dose of caution was always good, he had never considered himself to be cowardly in any sense of the word. But now...well now he felt like the biggest fraidy cat in the whole world.

The male agent gave Gavin what almost seemed like a sympathetic look. “Sorry, but that’s not an option,” he said, once again making a beckoning motion with his hand.

“Dad was right. I should’ve become a doctor,” Gavin thought miserably to himself as he very reluctantly exited his cell.

The trip up from the cell block to the roof of the building pretty much felt like a march to death. Federal employees stared unabashedly at the man practically being sacrificed to giants. Some wore looks of pity, while others had smug expressions on their faces, as if to say “serves him right.” Were Gavin in a better mood he probably would have scowled at the nosy jerks, or at least stuck his tongue out at them. But as things were, he was in no mood.

~

Rael sighed as he shifted his feet impatiently. It didn’t elude him that every human in the vicinity stiffened at his movement. He refrained from rolling his eyes. It was irritating how the humans constantly acted so skittish all the time, as if he would suddenly go on some sort of rampage.

“Why did they have to give me this assignment?” Rael mentally groaned.

Unlike many of the members of the Imperial Guard, he hadn’t joined with some idiotic fantasy of glorious duels and honorable battlescars. Rael joined because he knew it was the easiest way to elevate his station. Plus standing guard at the palace was easy work that he was perfectly content with. That’s why he had been less than pleased when he'd been informed he would have to venture to the human dimension to retrieve some human criminal.

Prior to today, Rael had only seen a human once, it had been from a distance and only for a second as they were being escorted into the palace. Therefore, he’d had no personal reason to dislike humans. It was just that from everything he had heard about them, they sounded so...annoying. And so far, his experiences with them today had proven that to be fairly accurate.

Rael suppressed a sigh as he glanced around. Thankfully the building he’d been told to go to was at the edge of a human city, meaning he wouldn’t have to put up with civilians gawking at him. The federal agents gathered on the roof in front of him were bad enough.

The stories about how giant being in the human realm would make you feel rang true. Rael felt positively colossal next to people who looked to be barely taller than his fingers. Not to mention the building he was standing beside, which appeared to be three stories, reached no higher than his knees. “Humans are lucky our imperialistic urges died a century ago,” Rael thought. Taking over the human realm would no doubt be a piece of cake, even with their supposed technological advancements.

“Sir!” Rael’s attention was caught by the shout of one of the humans standing on the roof below. He looked down to see the speaker was the woman who appeared to be in charge. “We apologize for the wait, the prisoner is being brought up now,” she announced. It was almost amusing, the way they had to yell for their tiny voices to even be perceived by him.

“Good,” Rael responded simply, electing not to mention the fact that the prisoner should’ve been ready and waiting for him when he arrived.

After a few minutes, Rael caught sight of the door on the roof entrance swing open. Three humans stepped out. The two dressed similarly to all the other federal agents practically had to drag the third one out. It was difficult for Rael to see from so far away, but the odd one out appeared to be a young man. He had light skin, a crop of messy brown hair, and appeared to be quite slim.

Rael raised a single eyebrow. “This is the prisoner?” he questioned as he eyed the man. He didn’t look like much, which was applicable to pretty much all humans, but Rael found it hard to believe that this one could’ve successfully stolen from an alteon.

“Yes, sir!” replied the woman in charge. “His name is Gavin Stone, he’s believed to be associated with many high profile robberies,” she explained.

Rael spared the human called “Gavin Stone” one last look before giving a shrug and reaching for the miniature iron cage attached to his belt.

The cage, which had been especially made for this occasion, was quite simple in its construction. The thing didn’t even have a lock because the latch to open the door was too big for a human’s miniscule hands to manage. It would do perfectly for keeping the criminal contained throughout the duration of the trip back to the palace.

The moment Gavin had laid eyes on the alteon, his body had practically separated from his mind. Physically, he was moving forward with the guidance of his two escorts, but his mind was still struggling to process the impossibly large person looming above him.

If the alteon’s size wasn’t strange enough, the guy looked like he’d stepped right out of a Renaissance Fair or something. His skin was a soft brown color, and he had long black hair that was tied into a loose ponytail behind him. His eyes were a striking teal color that stood out against his angular features. As for his clothing, he looked to be wearing what appeared to be some kind of light leather armor over top of a forest green tunic. Oh yeah, and then there was the fact that he had pointy elf ears.

Gavin had known the alteon dimension was almost medieval in nature, and he’d known the alteons had pointy ears, but it was still so damn bizarre to see in person.

As Gavin was in the middle of gaping, the giant began to move. He flinched at the action, and he noticed everyone else on the rooftop tense up as well. Clearly nobody was comfortable around this--this thing! “How can they hand me over to that?!”

It wasn’t until he had been practically shoved to the edge of the roof that Gavin’s brain caught up with what his body had been doing. Frantically he looked around him. All of the agents, including his former escorts, had backed away from the edge of the building closest to the alteon. This left Gavin stranded, with a giant man a mere few feet away.

With a hard gulp, Gavin tilted his head back to look up at the creature who was about to snatch him away. Those teal eyes were glancing down at him, and in his hand was a cage the perfect size for holding a stupid human who really should’ve just become a damn doctor.