#miniature relay

[electronalytics]

Industrial Overload Relays Market Industry Analysis Outlook by 2032

Market Overview:

Intrinsic safety modules are crucial components used in hazardous environments to ensure the safe operation of electronic equipment. These modules are designed to limit electrical energy and prevent the generation of sparks or excessive heat that could ignite flammable gases, vapors, or dust present in the surrounding atmosphere. By employing intrinsic safety modules, industries can reduce the risk of explosions and fires in potentially explosive atmospheres.

Intrinsic safety is a widely adopted protection technique in industries such as oil and gas, petrochemicals, mining, pharmaceuticals, chemicals, and others where flammable substances are present. These modules are typically used with sensors, transmitters, and other electronic devices that need to operate in hazardous locations.

The Global Intrinsic Safety Modules Market size is projected to grow from $2.7 billion in 2021 to a billion by 2028, at a CAGR of 7% 2023-2031.

Industrial Overload Relays: Overview Industrial overload relays are electrical devices used to protect motors and other electrical equipment from damage due to overcurrent conditions. They are an essential component of motor control systems in industrial settings. These relays monitor the current flowing through a motor and can trip the circuit if the current exceeds a predefined threshold, thus preventing overheating and potential damage.

Industry Analysis and Trends:

Industrial Automation: The increasing adoption of industrial automation across various sectors has driven the demand for overload relays. Automation requires efficient motor protection to ensure smooth operation and prevent downtime.

Energy Efficiency: There is a growing emphasis on energy efficiency and reducing operational costs. Modern overload relays often come with features that enable energy monitoring and optimization.

Smart Technologies: The integration of smart technologies, such as IoT and connectivity, into industrial equipment has led to the development of smart overload relays. These relays can provide real-time data, remote monitoring, and predictive maintenance insights.

Safety Regulations: Stringent safety regulations and standards in industrial environments have led to the increased adoption of protective devices like overload relays. Compliance with these regulations is crucial for safe operations.

Miniaturization and Integration: The trend toward miniaturization and integration has led to the development of compact and multifunctional overload relay solutions, saving space and enhancing functionality.

Customization and Flexibility: Industries often have specific requirements for their motor protection needs. Manufacturers are focusing on offering customizable overload relay solutions to cater to various applications.

Global Industrial Growth: As industries continue to grow worldwide, the demand for machinery and equipment, including motors and overload relays, also increases.

Demand and Scope:

The demand for industrial overload relays is closely tied to the overall industrial growth, especially in sectors like manufacturing, oil and gas, utilities, mining, and more. As these industries expand, the need for reliable motor protection solutions becomes more critical. Moreover, the increasing adoption of automation and the integration of advanced technologies further contribute to the demand for modern overload relays.

The scope of the industrial overload relays market extends across various industries and applications, including conveyor systems, pumps, fans, compressors, HVAC systems, and more. As technologies evolve, the scope of overload relays may expand to include smarter and more advanced features, addressing emerging challenges in motor protection and predictive maintenance.

We recommend referring our Stringent datalytics firm, industry publications, and websites that specialize in providing market reports. These sources often offer comprehensive analysis, market trends, growth forecasts, competitive landscape, and other valuable insights into this market.

By visiting our website or contacting us directly, you can explore the availability of specific reports related to this market. These reports often require a purchase or subscription, but we provide comprehensive and in-depth information that can be valuable for businesses, investors, and individuals interested in this market.

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Market Segmentations:

Global Intrinsic Safety Modules Market: By Company • Eaton • Rockwell Automation • Schneider Electric • Siemens • ABB • Pepperl+ Fuchs • OMEGA • Rotork • IMI Sensors • Extronics Global Intrinsic Safety Modules Market: By Type • Zener Barriers • Isolator Barriers • Converter Barriers Global Intrinsic Safety Modules Market: By Application • Oil and Gas • Mining • Power • Chemicals and Petrochemicals Global Intrinsic Safety Modules Market: Regional Analysis The regional analysis of the global Intrinsic Safety Modules market provides insights into the market's performance across different regions of the world. The analysis is based on recent and future trends and includes market forecast for the prediction period. The countries covered in the regional analysis of the Intrinsic Safety Modules market report are as follows: North America: The North America region includes the U.S., Canada, and Mexico. The U.S. is the largest market for Intrinsic Safety Modules in this region, followed by Canada and Mexico. The market growth in this region is primarily driven by the presence of key market players and the increasing demand for the product. Europe: The Europe region includes Germany, France, U.K., Russia, Italy, Spain, Turkey, Netherlands, Switzerland, Belgium, and Rest of Europe. Germany is the largest market for Intrinsic Safety Modules in this region, followed by the U.K. and France. The market growth in this region is driven by the increasing demand for the product in the automotive and aerospace sectors. Asia-Pacific: The Asia-Pacific region includes Singapore, Malaysia, Australia, Thailand, Indonesia, Philippines, China, Japan, India, South Korea, and Rest of Asia-Pacific. China is the largest market for Intrinsic Safety Modules in this region, followed by Japan and India. The market growth in this region is driven by the increasing adoption of the product in various end-use industries, such as automotive, aerospace, and construction. Middle East and Africa: The Middle East and Africa region includes Saudi Arabia, U.A.E, South Africa, Egypt, Israel, and Rest of Middle East and Africa. The market growth in this region is driven by the increasing demand for the product in the aerospace and defense sectors. South America: The South America region includes Argentina, Brazil, and Rest of South America. Brazil is the largest market for Intrinsic Safety Modules in this region, followed by Argentina. The market growth in this region is primarily driven by the increasing demand for the product in the automotive sector.

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Reasons to Purchase Intrinsic Safety Modules Market Report:

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• To comprehend consumer behaviour: these research studies can offer insightful information about customer behaviour, including preferences, spending patterns, and demographics.

• To assess market opportunities: These research studies can aid companies in assessing market chances, such as prospective new goods or services, fresh markets, and new trends.

In general, market research studies offer companies and organisations useful data that can aid in making decisions and maintaining competitiveness in their industry. They can offer a strong basis for decision-making, strategy formulation, and company planning.

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[lilibethwrites]

Hello! you would write to aemond x reader. Where she goes to Storm's End, trading instead of her brother, and instead of asking for Lucerys' eye, Aemond claims her as his wife.

To Have and to Hold

Aemond Targaryen x F!Velaryon (Strong)!Reader

Warnings: violence, NSFW, incest

Word count: 3583

A.N: Reader is the middle sister of Lucerys and Jacaerys. This is a good old enemies-to-lovers story with a happy ending.

The family was gathered around the painted table. Plans were made and changed and remade altogether in mere seconds, the lords loyal to your mother scrambling to do everything all at once to secure her rightful claim to the throne.

“Send us, mother. Dragons are faster than ravens,” Jacaerys insisted when the matter of reaffirming old oaths came up.

On your mother’s command, he was to fly south and Lucerys was to fly north, to Storm’s End. Luke agreed to the task, yet you could tell his hesitance from the way he tried to conceal his fidgeting. The rattled nerves made him seem smaller than he was as he hunched over, nodding to the duty given to him.

So you stepped up, though only after the meeting was adjourned. Lucerys was too proud to allow what you have intended otherwise, but you were too fond of your baby brother to let him fly through the treacherous weather of the North alone.

“Mother. A word, please?”

Rhaenyra intended Lucerys to familiarize himself with diplomatic duties which were sure to come in waves following her own coronation. Your proposal was compelling nevertheless. Storm’s End was a flight too difficult for your younger brother to make alone, and you as his companion might soothe his nerves and might even compel Lord Borros Baratheon to be kinder to the message you were to deliver.

“Very well, then,” Rhaenyra reluctantly agreed to your proposal but only on the condition that you would go in peace: as envoys and not as warriors.

The flight to Storm’s End was uneventful. With jokes and friendly teasing, it almost felt like your regular flights above the Dragonstone on beautiful mornings and starry nights. Except there was strong wind and downpour all at once, and Lucerys became quieter as you approached your destination.

“Come on, Luke. I will race you to the courtyard!”

Your dragon was older, not big enough on her own to be considered mature yet, but bigger in comparison to Arrax, which made Arrax faster in contrast.

So Luke landed first, and you were mere minutes behind him.

“Well done, brother. You beat me. You shall have my slice of the pie this supper.”

But Lucerys didn’t seem excited about what would make him jump up and down if it were any other time. He didn’t even smile. He was facing his sister with a hand gripping the saddle on Arrax and the other clutching the hilt of his sword, but his young face was contorted in concern as he looked through her. If you hadn’t known him better, you’d almost misread it for fear.

“What is it?” You asked, but Luke only remained motionless, looking beyond to the walls of the keep.

It was then that you saw it in the flash of lightning that lit up the sky for a moment. Vhagar. She was big enough to make the outer walls of the keep seem like miniatures. You gulped, though remained stoic on the outside for the sake of your younger brother. You accompanied him to support him, not to plummet him down into the endless pit of fear. Vhagar meant, however, the Prince you’d rather see the least had beaten you to Lord Borros. You only hoped he was given a chamber of his own, and you’d deliver your message and slip out without ever facing him.

“Come on, Luke. Let us haste. Mother’s expecting us back for supper.”

The dark and empty hall was as hostile as its Lord. And in the corner stood Aemond Targaryen with one of Lord Borros’ daughters. She seemed tense. You could tell, because so were you.

“Come on, Luke.” You nudged your brother, and he held the sealed message out for the guards.

As the Maester to Lord Borros slowly dragged his feet to his master’s seat and relayed the message to him in hushed whispers, your eyes were trained on Aemond’s. He stood tall and proud, looking at you and your brother with disdain in his eyes and disgust in the way his lips curled up.

Luke clutched his sword once again, and you squeezed his shoulder. “Let go of it, brother. Remember your oath to mother.”

With Luke unable to marry, Lord Borros without a son to offer you, and most importantly, with sweet promises laced with poison seeping into his ear all the way from King’s Landing, Borros Baratheon broke his oath. On any other day, you’d remain and quarrel, threaten the Baratheon forces to bend the knee to the true Queen and not to the Usurper King, but on that day, you wished nothing more than to escort your brother out to safety.

“We thank you for your consideration, Lord Borros,” you spoke without reverence. A turncloak deserved only the traitor’s death. But you’d return for it another day.

Meanwhile, Aemond’s gaze burned into the back of your head as you put a hand on Luke’s back to signal him it was way past your time for departure.

“Wait, my Lord and Lady Strong!” Aemond’s humiliating tone echoed off the walls.

“Luke—”

Fiery as ever, Luke shrugged your hand off and turned on his heels to face Aemond.

“Mind your tongue! Apologize to my dear sister right now!”

“Hm. How about you apologize to me for trying to steal my brother’s crown, traitor?”

“I will do no such thing!”

“Then you are a coward as well as a traitor and I will have your eye, bastard.”

Aemond ripped the dagger from its sheath and threw it flying towards Y/N and her older brother.

With each lightning that struck, the sapphire eye in place of the one Luke once slashed out glimmered. It seemed as if it had a mind of its own, no doubt just as vile and dangerous as its owner.

“As payment for mine.”

“No,” Lucerys stood his ground.

Aemond all but jumped forward then, spurred on by the courage of a boy he saw inferior to him in all regards. Lucerys to stand against him, tall and proud, was a massive hit to his pride.

As Aemond picked up his dagger and moved for Lucerys, you stepped in between your brother and uncle.

“NO! No!”

Your intervention caught Aemond by surprise. He was intrigued, amused, even. What a fine, fiery woman his nephew has turned out to be. Shame she was a bastard all the same.

“Please— Aemond. My Prince. Please—”

“What? Do you plead to pitch in?” he stared into Y/N’s eyes then. He was unyielding, unflinching.

“Luke, go. I command you. As your sister, I command you to leave!” You pleaded with Lucerys, but he stood unmoving behind you.

“Lucerys!”

“No…” Aemond was amused. “No, your eyes are of no value to me. I want his eye!”

Luke would have escaped had it not been for his older sister. He would have turned around and made it to his dragon as you demanded. Yet, only a few acts were more loathsome than leaving kin to the wolves. Besides, Rhaenyra would’ve shredded him to bits and fed him to Arrax for all to see.

So Luke kneeled to take the dagger. Aemond’s request was fair after all.

“Perhaps not my eyes,” You spoke hastily with your hand wrapped around Luke’s wrist in an effort to stop him.

“But demand what you deem worthy of me and you shall have it. I beg of you, Aemond. Let my baby brother return to our mother. He came only as an envoy. He means no harm to you.”

“Hm.” He seemed to consider the offer genuinely that time. “As if you could harm me if you tried. Well, it seems the girl has bigger balls than you, bastard. You’re strong only in name, Lord Strong.”

Then he turned his attention back to you with a cruel smirk that pressed his lips into a thin line.

“You would trade your life, no matter how worthless, for your bastard brother?”

“If it is my life you demand, you shall have it. But allow my brother safe passage first.”

It was Lucerys’ turn to protest then, but you took a step forward, hoping that Aemond would be merciful enough to at least spare your brother the grim sight of the execution of his sister.

“I won’t kill you, dear Nephew. Oh, no. That would be entertainment for what? an hour? No, I will marry you,” His eye widened and he grinned as if a child got a platter of cakes and pies all to himself.

“Go on, then, pup,” He nodded to Lucerys pulling at the sleeves of your damp travelling coat, begging you to stop.

“Go with your worthless life and carry the heavy news to your false Queen—that her daughter is to be defiled by Prince Aemond. Perhaps she will be overjoyed to see what true Targaryen offspring looks like.”

You were trembling then. From standing in a stone hall, dripping head to toe from the downpour you have just escaped from, or from the cruel design Aemond has traded you for your brother’s eye, you didn’t know.

Your brother was looking at you incredulously, clutching Aemond’s dagger with his shaking hand.

“Go—go, Lucerys,” you mumbled between shaky breaths that threatened to explode into a sobbing fit. “You’ve heard Prince Aemond. Relay the news to the Queen.”

“Sister—I won’t leave you—”

“How sad,” Aemond spoke joylessly, mocking Luke with his lips downturned in an exaggerated fashion. “Will you cry, pup?”

“Sister, I shall return. I promise—”

“You will do no such thing, Lucerys,” your back was turned to him, your tears concealed from his vision. “Now go.”

“Oh, and I will have this back,” Aemond reached behind Lucerys, tearing the dagger from his hand and sheating it back to its place on his belt.

Aemond took his leave after Lucerys’, all but dragging you to Vhagar. You grappled to reach for your own dragon but to no avail. Aemond’s vice grip would sooner rip your arm from your shoulder before he let you loose.

“Did you think I would let you fly on your own? What do you take me for, a fool?”

“No. You are no fool. But you are a cruel monster.”

It seemed to please him, and he snorted.

 “A monster who is nought but a bully had it not been for his dragon!”

That, however, seemed to have gotten to him. He stopped in his track under the downpour abruptly and struck you across the face. It was your time to grin. For all his quiet mystery, his underbelly was clear as day.

“My Prince forgets who was there on the night he usurped Vhagar from her rightful successors. You were but a scared child who stole what you did not deserve.”

His fingers wrapped around your neck, squeezing so tight that your vision soon turned blurry and you gasped desperately, clawing at his on your throat. There was nothing but fury in his eye, wide with surprise that a woman would speak so plainly to him, and red with rage and the rain.

“Speak but another word and I shall send your skull to your whore of a mother!”

He let go and you collapsed to your knees, coughing and gasping for air. Then came waves of hiccups and sobs, not out of fear or misery but out of utter wrath.

“Save your tears. If it is sympathy you hope for, you shall get none from me. You are a foul bastard just like the rest of your brood and you shall be treated as one.”

Deep down, however, the deal he had just struck excited Aemond. His mouth watered at the thought of his reluctant but fiery bride in their marital bed, as they consummated the marriage and repeated the act over and over again until her belly was swollen and ran around the Red Keep children of Aemond’s own.

She was still a filthy bastard in his eye, yet if he had to choose one of his nieces to tolerate, he’d gladly choose Y/N over the others. Back when they all grew up on King’s Landing, he did have a crush on her, after all. Though it was silly, and he ripped the roots of it long ago. At least he thought so.

Something about her dark hair, livelier complexion, and eyes… her eyes. The defiance and pride in them. And she was brave; braver than most, braver than even his drunk, sorry excuse of a brother and father.

Back at King’s Landing, Alicent was rightfully outraged by the turn of events. Of course, you didn’t expect a warm welcome from your mother-in-law, and you didn’t get one.

Most of your days leading up to the wedding were spent in a chamber of your own with your door locked and latched on you and with a Kingsguard standing watch at all times. It was lonely, except for when Aemond came to visit, which he did almost every night.

He sat by the fireplace and you sat on the bed. Though at first not a lot of words were spoken, soon you realized just how much his conversation entertained you, and that you looked forward to his visits.

It was one of those nights that he stopped by with a heavy book under his arm.

“I had the Maester copy this for you,” he spoke dryly, but he had a hint of a self-satisfied smile on his lips.

He set the book down on the table and flipped through the pages.

“If you put your nose to it, you can still smell the ink.”

Aemond didn’t expect you to indulge him the way you did. You walked up to him, and with your cheek to his, joined him in inhaling the scent of ink on parchment pages.

“What is it about? The book?” You asked with genuine interest, flipping through the pages as Aemond pulled away to look at you incredulously. You weren’t resisting him, dismissing him, or threatening him with a slit throat in his sleep as you usually did.

“It’s—it’s on the history of Valyria. This is the first volume of many.”

“Oh, I remember this book.”

“You do?”

“Yes!” You pulled away with a proud smile of your own. For a moment, you looked like two ordinary lovers conversing by the fire, not enemies who supposed to hate each other and about to be united only as torture for one another.

“Remember Aunt Leana’s funeral?”

Of course he did. That was when you mocked Aemond for not being a dragon rider still, and told him the Gods were cruel not to give him the handsome face Aegon was blessed with. How silly were you back then. But how could you know that Aemond would grow up to be the Prince you’d fall for day after day?

“Yes?” he responded warily.

“Well, you were reading this then. I tore a page out, and you were so cross you told on me to my mother,” you giggled, giving him a playful slap on the shoulder before seating yourself by the fireplace.

Aemond smiled as well, approaching his usual seat cautiously as if not to spook a skittish prey. When you nursed your cup of wine without a flinch, he sat by you. Though his face was turned to the fire, he stole quick glances at your face, your neckline revealed by your evening robe, and your delicate, ringed fingers wrapped around the cup.

“Regretfully, you were fluent in High Valyrian back then and I knew very little, and nothing much has changed ever since.”

“Oh,” Aemond caught your eyes, searching for the dark, burning dislike you had for him that he came to expect. Instead your face was relaxed, and your eyes were almost that of a lover’s. Then, you reached for his hand. It must be the wine, Aemond thought. What else?

“You shall have to teach me.”

“I shall arrange the Maester—”

“I asked you, Aemond, not the Maester.”

From then on, Aemond visited you every night without fail. He came earlier and left later into the night. Though he always brought books, parchment and ink, very little High Valyrian was actually studied. His days were eventful and you loved to listen, and he loved the way you reminisced their days of youth.

So, on a night like that, with your hand on his over the table, you spoke the words that almost stopped his heart.

“I wish you would stay the night, Aemond. It gets awfully lonely some nights.”

He blinked a few times, unsure if his ears heard what you spoke, or what he so desperately wished you would.

“It—it would be improper before the wedding.”

“You took me hostage, Aemond. Traditions are obeyed very little in our marriage.”

That night was the first time you called what was slowly blossoming between him and you a marriage. The words you spoke took him by surprise, just as the way you said them—playfully, with no hatred or resentment.

“You offered yourself up. I was content enough having your brother’s eye.” That was Aemond’s attempt at humour in response, a macabre and perhaps a twisted one that would have gotten raise out of any other woman. Yet you only looked at him for a second, then laughed.

“Yet you did not have to lock me up. I would not have run.”

“No, but my brother would have stolen you from me.”

“Oh, surely. Aegon did promise to demonstrate to me… what was it? Real manhood in case you ever failed to do so.”

“He did?” Aemond frowned. Was that what jealousy felt like?

“Mmhm. I told him I was confident you would make a good husband.”

Though the ceremony was mere days away, Aemond was still not used to being called your husband, especially by you, and he barely got used to wearing a band of gold around his ring finger.

“This would be a good time to say that I would make a good wife, as well,” you joked, hoping to pull Aemond out of his moment of silence.

Instead, Aemond stared at you. He was unblinking and impossible to read. Indeed because his face was impossible to read, it came to you as a surprise when he closed the distance between you and himself and locked his lips with yours.

It was gentle, way gentler than you assumed Aemond was capable of. When he pulled back just enough to study your face, you only whispered “Do it again.”

The caution and restraint went out the window then. His tongue danced across yours and you gripped each other desperately, pulling at your clothes and moaning your names.

Aemond ended up not only staying the night as you asked but consummating your marriage even before the ceremony itself.

It was gentle and cautious at first, but only briefly, before baser and more primal urges overtook you both. You woke up in Aemond’s arms with a dull but sweet ache between your legs and marks in the shape of his mouth and fingers all over your body. Likewise, Aemond woke up with raw lines of skin where your nails had dug into his flesh.

You took your bath together, and Aemond postponed his sword practice for a private noon at the library with you. Though it came as a surprise to neither of you that there was more kissing and touching than reading.

Then, things changed rapidly. Your door was no longer locked, though that might very well be because you all but moved into Aemond’s quarters. You became inseparable. You were there with a book or your embroidery when Aemond trained, you flew together, broke fast and had supper together in his bedchamber.

The only time you regretfully parted was when Alicent—who also surprisingly became like a mother to you, and you a daughter to her— insisted that your fitting for the wedding gown must be kept private and away from the prying eye of the groom. It was bad luck, she insisted, if Aemond saw you in your gown before the ceremony.

“And have you asked mother and the Septa if it is good luck or bad if I have you in your gown?” Aemond teased you, making you blush whenever his words came back to you as the tailors worked ceaselessly to finish the dress before the ceremony.

Neither of you could say if it was indeed bad luck or not, but you found out that it was delightful when Aemond lifted your heavy skirt up and snuck between your legs on your wedding night. He had you in it, just as he promised. Though it was a shame that he grew too impatient to undo the ribbons and laces, so he instead tore and ripped the dress apart, leaving it as a cut of tattered, expensive silk on the floor as the night went on.

You saw the sorry state of the dress in the morning. Well, as much of it as you could see from Aemond’s arms around you, keeping you flush on his body.

“Aemond! You shall never see me wear a lovely dress as this once was for you again!” 

“My sweet wife, you should not wear anything for me,” Aemond whispered groggily, still in the sweet clutches of slumber, and he pulled you for a kiss that promised you would not be leaving his bedchamber for the day.

Aemond Tag (let me know if you'd like to be added to it):

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[whalesforhands]

what’s yours is mine (7/?)

previous masterlist next

pairing: geto suguru x reader x gojo satoru

You don’t know a lot of things, and you readily admit that. What you do know, is that the friends you’ve made aren’t something you will ever regret. Until your physical body weakens and becomes nothing, you’re more than happy to give your all until you wither away.

What’s yours can be theirs, too. They’re your friends, after-all. (Omegaverse AU)

“You’re not going to get any better if you don’t lie down.”

Yet you don’t listen, only clinging harder onto your Mama and pressing your face into her thigh from behind, helplessly balling her clothes into your fists as she watches the stove that had yet to be turned on.

Where a pot of uncooked rice porridge still sat atop, cold and unappetizing; totally unfit for a sick child such as you.

It was a curse that you swore had beset you on this unlucky day as you woke up groggy and sapped of your energy, stumbling over your blanket with shortened breaths as you tried to get to the bathroom.

You’re sure of it. An evil villain had blackened your soul, diminished your health and withered your spirit— All because you were a hero. That’s why Mama came upstairs only to find your half-dressed self face-planted onto the futon, your body trembling and clearly struggling to dress yourself without her as your eyes went teary from stress and the resentment of your weakened limbs.

“M-Mama…” Your voice is weak, strained and clearly upset as it tips over into a sob as you’re scooped up into her arms, her forehead pressed against yours in hurried moves as her much cooler hands hold your limp body.

You’re burning up.

“Honey, I think you’re sick.” It’s in a quiet coo, a soft trill to her tone in attempts to hush the beginnings of you throwing a fit.

“I-I’m n-not sick…!” You denied, hands curled into weak fists to throw a miniature, and very fatigue-ridden tantrum as your eyes tear up, bottom lip trembling as you try your best not to cry.

And Mama knows that you’re not the type to deny yourself from such things. Not the type of good child that would decline being babied and fawned over by her within any given circumstance. But she gets it, gets you.

It’s the day of the sports festival after all.

At the ripe young age of 8, sports has always been a defining point in popularity and the general likability of an individual in their class. A time for kids such as yourself to build repertoire, to build a reputation for themselves. A way to be labelled as ‘someone’.

Simply put, it was your opportunity to make friends without actually ‘making friends’. A, in your opinion, relatively smart way of flouting Satoru’s promise and Suguru’s disapproving gaze.

(Even if it made you sad to make them sad…)

So you chose to take part in the relay race, the one team based event that you think you could not possibly be bad at, your hand raised high into the air and eyes sparkling with a determination that made you believe that there was definitely a victory in sight when your teacher called for volunteers.

It went against your yearly choice of being on the cheer team, but you think change can be a good thing.

(Heroes always talk about it in anime.)

That’s why. That’s why your face was burning hot with the passion that was meant to be exerted upon the relay race, the tears leaking out of your eyes and soaking into your Mama’s skirt meant to be ones that would taste like victory when you brought great honour and glory to Class 3B.

It just wasn’t meant to be.

This is definitely the world’s revenge for making your friends upset. Heroes definitely do not have it easy, even if you did single-handedly save Satoru’s playground.

You can’t even eat the super delicious character bento that your Mama had stayed up late last night to make you as your bottom lip wobbles, frustration running high and your hands balling up the fabric of her skirt as you try your absolute hardest to make the swell in your throat go down.

You don’t want to cry. You’re strong. You’re capable. That’s why you’re a hero. That’s why you can’t let the villain who cursed you win.

And when a hand is gently rubbing your head from above alongside the sound of a pot clattering closed; it was enough to make the dam that you had so desperately tried to keep closed burst open.

“It’s okay to be sad.”

She knows how much you trained for this day. How much you let her smear sunscreen all over your face, whining and letting her pat your cheeks as you slip your feet into velcro sneakers, waving her goodbye with your waterbottle tucked underneath your armpit and a hanky in your pocket.

“Satoru said he’ll help me train.” Your look of determination barely falters as you smile up at her. “So I’m gonna work really, really hard.”

Gojo Satoru. The anchor of your class, the star boy who effortlessly gets the best grades despite sleeping through most of the lessons, and the one unanimously decided by the majority that he is the running last because that was just how fast he was. Don’t get yourself wrong, Suguru was fast. And really smart too.

But Gojo Satoru was just too exceptional even for the above average.

So that’s why you’re out here, an empty plastic cup in your hands acting as the ‘baton’ and Suguru waving a palm in front of your face to break you out of your daydreaming trance.

“You sure you wanna train when it’s so hot out?” His brows are furrowed and his lips are downturned into a frown. “Satoru and I don’t mind, but you don’t really like playing outside.”

Other than the playground anyway.

“Mmhm.” A nod of your head and the clenching of your fingers around the replacement baton as your own eyes hued with a fiery resolve met his worried purple. “I gotta do it.”

You’ll do it for glory. For the future where you’ll be as highly revered as your friends, for the classmates to even possibly think that you were the slightest bit cool.

“You’ll help, right?” Your smile is innocent and far too happy, the giddiness on the cheeks that were too cute for him to say anything else.

“…okay.” Anything for you.

This was your hero training arc.

“And Suguru’s gonna be passing to you from that tree, and you’ll pass to me! So we’re gonna practice that by running up and down this path I made Kimi-chan mark out!”

“Seriously? Where’d ya even get them?”

“I made Kimi-chan buy them, duh.”

That sounds easy enough, right? The cones that had been laid out practically beckon you as your ears no longer pick up on the chatter between your 2 friends, a giddy excitement in your stomach as you clench your fists with blazing resolve.

Well, some things are easier said than done.

A fall.

“(name)-sama, are you okay?!” Hands hurriedly pulling you back up to your feet as fingers fumble over your knees. “That was quite a bad fall…!”

Another stumble.

“I’ll run faster so that you have more time to pass to Satoru, okay?” His words are only slightly chopped, slightly winded from the multiple laps that he had gone as his hanky presses against your scratched knee.

An unprecedented tripping over your own feet. Or was it the air…?

“W-What? Ya were so close that time! How’d ya even fall?!” Gojo Satoru is the one who catches you this time, having hurriedly trying to break your fall having noticed the slightest odd bend in your ankles.

“Kimi-chan! How long did that take?!” He pants, wiping the sweat off his brow as the baton sticks to his slick hand, snowy hair sticking to his forehead as Suguru fans himself under the shade of the tree you were all taking refuge under, letting you catch your breath by leaning against him.

Said caretaker looks up from where she was icing your bruises, hands moving swiftly to take another look at the timer. “Exactly 2 minutes and 38 seconds, Young Master.”

“Ehhh? That’s so slow!”

And while you don’t cry a lot, but it doesn’t mean that you never will. It doesn’t mean that you don’t feel frustrated at the fact that you ran so much every single day after school, panting and feeling the heat of the sun on your hands, the sticky feeling of your clothes on your skin as you try not to feel faint. Try to get your bearings back every single time the boys practically ran laps around you.

Training is difficult. And it’s even more difficult to have to come to terms with what was now out of your reach.

“There’s always next year,” Her hand pats your back as her voice is barely above a whisper, gently wiping your tears as you feel her hand upon your chin, gingerly making you release your jaw so that you won’t bite down on your lips.

“What you worked hard for won’t disappear just like that.”

So that you won’t be so hard on yourself either.

“B-but I can’t—“ Can’t do anything even if you worked so hard for it. It’s become useless all on its own, even when you had so clearly forced down more vegetables these days in preparation, gulping down lots and lots of water to aid in the healthiness power up.

“What you can do now is do your best to cheer for your friends, okay? Then your effort won’t go to waste if you cheer really, really hard for them.” Your sight is blurry as you blink through your tears, staring up at the soft expression of your Mama’s face, the fever patch on your head making you start to feel faint.

“You’re really good at cheering too.” Not to brag or anything, but your Mama is definitely right. But you think your running is definitely and hopefully much better.

But that’s the only thing you can do for them now. A second chance, a gleaming, glowing chance that paves way to make up for the fact that you couldn’t win together with them.

So you accept it.

“Okay…” Even if you can’t see them, even if you can’t even cheer for them physically like you did in the previous years. But you’ll pray, pray really really hard in your head that they will win, that they would be the ones to bring the glory that you couldn’t.

You really hope it goes well. You really, really, really hope so as your chin rests on your Mama’s shoulder, your legs wrapped around her waist and her hand patting your back as she carries you up the stairs.

You do wonder how they’re doing up to now, though. Hopefully… Winning?

“No!” A cross of his arms and a huff of annoyance. “No way am I gonna receive from some nobody!” A decisive stamp of his foot into the dirt below, his back turned onto the only other person here that would even dare to go this close to him, especially when he’s kicking up a dust cloud alongside throwing yet another tantrum.

“You’re being too much, Satoru.” He sighs with a palm pressed to his forehead, his hair now shorter than ever so as to comply with school regulations as he watches his stubborn friend.

At least it won’t get in his face when he’s doing sports. Much unlike the fuming Gojo Satoru in front of him.

“Oi Suguru! How could ya let that hag tell us what to do?!”

And Geto Suguru feels like his head was going to split open. “Our homeroom teacher only suggested that we get a replacement because we’re short of one.”

At least, that’s what he’s been trying to get across for the past 10 minutes.

“We don’t need anybody replacin’ her!” Another stomp onto the ground as the blue-eyed boy pouts even harder, making a pebble launch off the ground and rocket towards the concrete wall to ricochet with a force full of repulsed impatience. “They’re gonna be stupider than her for getting sick t’day!”

“Then our class would be a person short, Satoru. And don’t call people stupid.” Because you’d probably be the one to make that comment right about now. Not that it matters, even if it came from the noiret who even tried to dissuade him with words that you’d probably say—

All for naught. Even if they mimicked the way you spoke, it just doesn’t have the same effect. So Geto Suguru had decided to just give up entirely to be the crass, straight to the point self that scratched at the nerves of the neighbourhood Gojo.

(And it looked like Satoru liked this version of him better, anyway.)

It doesn’t make logical sense to skip out on manpower. Not at all, especially when they’re in this specific category looking for a win. Yet, Suguru gets it as his nose scrunches and his brows furrow. He gets why the boy is so adamant on your position not getting swiped from underneath their noses.

(He won’t admit it though. If he does it first, it means Satoru wins.)

“It’s not like you can stop being sick all of a sudden.”

You worked so hard, after all. You would never be the type to lie to skip out on this. You’re just… Unlucky. Or was it their fault for making you play in those rain puddles…?

(“It’s not fair! I even made my maids pack extra special Digimon bentos to eat t’day!”

“Eat them yourself then—“

“No!”)

Alas, he still has to deal with the spoiled prince whom even the teachers seem too scared to make him upset. Seriously, what is up with everyone and the Gojo family?

“Then you just gotta run faster!” A poke of a proud finger into the young boy’s chest, a purposeful prod that was barely teetering on a threat as those shiny blue hues were ignited by a flare of indignation.

A glare that commanded Suguru’s obedience and compliance as those angry cheeks puff up even more.

Suguru would like to deny it, but you’re right when you say that this spoiled, stubborn, annoying boy was c—

“I don’t wanna receive from anybody else!” A click of his tongue as his shoe kicks at the dirt below him, and a smack against the black-haired boy’s shoulder as flabbergasted amethyst clashes against unrelenting sapphire.

“And we’re gonna win, no matter what. So don’t drag us down or I won’t forgive you!”

Good god, he was so difficult to deal with. Not that this was anything out of the ordinary for Geto Suguru, though.

A sigh, and childlike hands that clasped their together into a determined handshake, fingers squeezing into a promise just as the blare of the loudspeaker comes on to announce the start of their event.

“Say that to yourself first, Satoru.” A tightening of their hands as the ‘handshake’ gets ever tighter with their growing adrenaline. “I won’t forgive you either if you lose to the rest of them.”

(“Also, can’t ya eat your bentos yourself? My mama packed me one too with cold soba—“ He immediately shuts up when he spots the angry pout on his friend’s face, red cheeks and fuming anger that threatened to have steam blow out his ears.

And the— Sight of eyes that looked like they were gonna… Cry?

Oh.

“…let’s save some for (name) when we eat them later.”)

——

“Dear,” A cool hand pushes your hair back as you groggily blink awake, tummy still warm from porridge and forehead feeling slightly damp from the soft, moist cloth against your heated skin. “Are you feeling better?”

“Mn…” You think your body is starting to feel less heavy, less burdensome on your bones as you let out a groan, small hand reaching out for the glass of water that looked like it was floating in front of you.

Magic glasses of water taste the best. You would know since you had a couple today. At least… You think it’s magic. It is, right? That’s why they always fly around and looked like there was always more than one surrounding you.

“Geto-san came over with some soup when she heard you were sick.” She’s gently smoothing down your hair as you start to perk up, shifting slightly so as to be able to sit up properly against your Mama’s arm supporting you against your back.

“You can eat it later, okay?”

You hope you have strength to go over and thank her later, though… Do you have to give her something as thanks too? It must be hard, having to make a soup that would help cure the curse upon your body…

Mama stops momentarily as she watches you from above, humming slightly when you finally down the rest of your glass and let out a little sigh, fully going lax against your Mama’s cooler to the touch body as you cuddle up against her.

She should take more off days to stay together with you more—

“Oh, and your friends. They came over to visit as well.”

And that has you whipping around to face your Mama, the sudden movement making your stiff neck cramp slightly from how long you laid down.

But it doesn’t matter. The pain won’t stop you. Won’t stop the racing thoughts you had through your head that mostly overpowered the soreness of your neck.

Was the sports event already over? Did they win? Did they lose— No. Wait. That’s impossible. Your friends could never, would never lose. Oh, but what if there was a possible chance there was? Even if heroes suffered a little bit sometimes the villain could still win—

“But I couldn’t let them in.”

“(name)’s mama! Is she awake yet?” This was probably the third time they had knocked against the front door, hands on his hips and blue eyes staring up at the all too patient woman.

“Satoru— My mama said we have to wait.” Purple eyes blink up at her apologetically. “Sorry, (name)‘s mama, we can wait a while longer—“

“But it’s been like— Too long, Suguru! How much longer until she wakes up???”

Oh. That sucks. You visibly deflate, a whimper escaping you as your shoulders slump into defeat. You can’t even talk to them or else you’ll pass your dirty, cursed germs to them…

“Nothing a call can’t fix,” She uses a soft handkerchief to wipe any remnant moisture, petting your head as her eyes briefly meet the drawn curtains of your shared bedroom.

“And I might… Have a better idea.”

Excited waves from the window, shimmers of gold against reflective glass and your widening eyes as the summer breeze flutters the curtains and ruffles through your hair.

It’s windier than you thought, with the sun in your eyes and the cicadas singing in this heat.

(Or was it because you just spent most of the day sleeping?)

“Look! I won the medals for us!” Half his body was practically hanging off of the window ledge, hands holding all 3 shiny medals as his lower half was held back only by the more responsible friend clinging onto Satoru’s waist and pulling with all the might an 8 year old might have.

“Satoru! Don’t lean over the window— And we won those together!”

A haughty huff.

“Ya, but you didn’t cross the finish line, did ya? I did! But look, look! We got your medal too!”

(“You’re so annoying!”

“Blehhhh!” A stick out of his tongue as excited blue kept jumping in place despite the dangerous position he put himself in. “Kimi-chan’s already down there to catch me just in case, anyway!”)

Golden and shiny and everything that encompassed a winner. It shone so brightly even when competing against the late afternoon sunshine, stood out even when held

Winners. They’re winners.

But if you think about it all on your lonesome, looking upon those shiny medals and standing by your window with your futon wrapped around your form…

There’s something odd about this empty feeling inside of you. Something that lingers in the same sense disappointment would, swirling around you and making you feel… Bad.

Why? You’re happy that your class won, happy that they managed to win the glory you’ve been going on and on about in your head. They’re winners, beat out all the other people who trained hard for this event as well. What is this disgusting feeling of secretly hoping that they lost?

So why? Why is it that you feel this way even as they smile so proudly at you, proclaiming that they’ll personally hang the medal around your neck when you get better so that they can dub you a winner too—

“See? Ya didn’t have to worry about us at all, (name)!” His sparkling blue eyes close to form a matching grin with Suguru who was too busy smiling at you despite your sick state, eyes too busy to notice Gojo Satoru smacking his shoulder when they’re stuck staring at you.

“You’re getting better, right? Your Mama said that you slept a lot. We can talk more with our telephone when Satoru’s gone cause he’s annoying.”

“Hey! I want a string telephone connecting to all your houses too!”

“You live too far. So it’s only mine and (name)’s.”

Ah. You think you get it now. Understand why you feel this way as your hand gingerly presses against your hot cheek and sliding up to your eyes to feel the wetness that was starting to form.

When did you—?

It has your friends doing a double take.

“(name)… Are you crying?” Please don’t cry.

“I-I think she’s just happy that we won! Right, (name)?” Please don’t cry. Not right now.

Because you realize these weren’t tears of happiness, after all. It was the realization that— Despite all your training, despite all the effort you put in to help them, help this class…

They didn’t need you to win after all.

“…yea! Good job!” Your smile feels too unlike any that you’ve ever given, all stretched awkwardly and like it didn’t belong.

This wasn’t you. You know it so, since this is your own self you’re talking about.

You’ve definitely been cursed.

——

And so, it wasn’t long after that you finally recovered, finally able to properly get onto your feet. Finally able to get dressed without your Mama's help, finally able to pick up your backpack without faceplanting onto the ground... All that healing food did wonders.

("You're so happy today, Satoru." You can't help but smile at the boy holding hands with both yourself and your black-haired friend as all 3 of you sat in his car, listlessly listening to the radio together as he sat directly in between the both of you, tips of his ears red as he tries to act... Cool.

"Oh? Satoru, what's with that face?" A smug smile and upturned purple eyes. "Don't tell me it's because you missed-"

"Shut up, Weird Bangs!")

So imagine your surprise when your teacher beckons someone in from outside your classroom door, the entrance sliding open and the taps of an unfamiliar pair of shiny, brand new indoor shoes against the floors of this familiar classroom.

A new kid. One that had a pretty mole by her eye and her prettier name written so neatly upon the blackboard in such neat chalk lines that you just can’t help but feel envious.

“Ieiri Shoko. Please take care of me.” With only the slightest bow as she stares ahead blankly, eyes avoiding the whispers of your already chattering class.

It must be scary, right? To have to stand there and do that… You don’t think you want to be in her position right now.

“Do you think she’s scared?” It’s a thoughtless whisper to the only other person who could possibly hear right now, your own gaze meeting familiar purple.

“Maybe.” He’s dismissive, as if he didn’t care too much as he takes out his pencil case. “I brought the colour pencils you wanted to see, by the way.”

Ohh—! You’ve been wanting to—

“She looks boring.” His crass huff from your other occupied side makes you think he already doesn’t like her. “Don’t talk to her, (name).”

Shimmering comets for eyes turn to meet yours, glowing with a certain spark that had hidden thoughts.

“You’ll get into trouble.”

“Thank you, Ieiri-chan. Please sit at the empty desk near the back by Minato-chan.” A shuffle of papers as your homeroom teacher neatens the stack. “I want you all to be nice to our new friend, okay?”

“Okay, sensei!”

“Good! Now let’s begin class.”

Lunch rolls by far too quickly today. You swear the clock is definitely moving faster than usual.

“Heyyyyy. Stop studying and let’s go playyyyy!” A poke of your cheek as you stare at Suguru’s workings, eyes narrowing as you try to make sense of these complicated numbers.

“Ah, make sure you erase this. You’ll get confused if you don’t.”

“Is this right?” Your paper is pushed towards the more helpful of your friends, anticipating his praise as you wait with bated breath as his purple eyes scan over the worksheet.

You definitely got it this time. Definitely.

“Suguruuuuu! Y’er so slow, I’ll do it!” And that has him snatching up the starting to crumple sheet, blue eyes screening over it with ferocious and frightening accuracy, his cute brows furrowed and his bottom lip jutted out as he lets out a huff.

“This one’s wrong.” A finger taps against your paper, drawing a circle with his fingertip as he yawns. “And this one. This too.”

“The last one was s’pposed to be right but ya forgot to carry the 1 over.” His cheeks puff with dismissiveness when he looks up to only see Suguru comforting you with pats on your shoulder.

Oh.

“W-What? I only checked ‘em over!” He’s not at fault again for something, right? He was sure this was a more straightforward thing of being correct or not, something that shouldn’t be that big of a deal even if it’s because of the way he spoke—

If you hadn’t gotten them all wrong, that is.

“…it’s okay, (name). We can just practice them again.” And you pout, letting Suguru pat your head in consolation as you stare down at the hurriedly marked paper that was handed back to you. “Satoru just doesn’t know how to be nice cause he’s mean.”

“Hey! I can be nice!” Fuming rage and his hands slamming against his desk. “I’ll help ya both study later if (name) gives me a hug and the pudding in your fridge!”

And he’s serious about it. You can tell by his shiny cheeks and those smug half-lidded eyes that he would help— Even if you didn’t give him the pudding. The hug would be mandatory, though.

“What does my pudding even have to do with all this?”

All this whilst that new girl sat alone in the back of the class by herself. She’s not good at making friends, you notice. Quietly keeping to herself as she flips through a book, ignoring the cries of your schoolmates running down the hallway and into the wide, wide yard.

And when hands squeeze your cheeks together, mushing your face into his palms and making you turn away—

“You shouldn’t look at other people when we’re here. Sato—“ He stops himself, eyes moving from the pouting boy and back to your face that was in his hands. “I don’t like it.”

You must’ve been staring for too long.

——

“I don’t wanna go!” He’s clinging to you, backpack hastily thrown onto the ground as Kimiko-san tries her absolute hardest to persuade her young master into the car.

“Please, Satoru-sama. You have martial arts training—“

“Don’t wanna! I wanna stay with (name)!”

So all you can do is stand there and pat his shoulder, his head on your not at all stiff shoulder as you reciprocate his overly attached self, blinking up at a panicking Kimiko-san before down to the head of fluffy white.

“Suguru said he’ll beat you up with judo if you don’t go.”

Because he’s in the club. And he’s really good at it. Better than Satoru, actually.

“That dummy’s not gonna beat me.” It’s off handed and far too self assured as it’s muffled by the strap of your bag.

“You don’t know that.” You really don’t. Suguru’s been going on and on about training a lot, and he let you both see how he could do a flip once. At least— You think it counts as a flip anyway.

And you can hear him mutter unintelligible words, before he pulls away, his hands grabbing onto your shoulders and ferocious, narrowed eyes staring at you head-on with a pout on his lips.

“You better be at home to play with me when we’re back!”

“Okay.” You nod, sticking out your pinky towards him as you smile. “I promise.”

“Hmph!” He takes it, roughly, with a pout that turned into a satisfied smile as he finally— Finally gets in the car.

(“Thank you so much, (name)-sama…”

“It’s okay. I heard Libras were unlucky today cause the stars aren’t aligned for them. You should be cautious about the people around you, lest you run into trouble.”

“T-Thank you, (name)-sama…? Please get home safe. Weather reports say that it will rain soon.”)

And what unexpectedly occurred— Was the fact that the new kid was waiting in the same area as you were, waiting out the rain due to a neglected umbrella that probably sat near her door.

Which was the same case as you were. Except— Despite Kimiko-san’s warning, you ended up wandering around school too long in hopes of getting to watch Suguru train.

“Hi.” You’re trying to make conversation now that it’s just the both of you. Alone. By yourselves. This is a rare chance, honestly. You can count how many times you’ve been left like this by your friends on one hand throughout the years you’ve all been together.

It’s a chance you don’t really want to pass up. Time to put those social skills you’ve gleaned over the years into good use.

(From all those TV shows you’ve watched, of course. Your zodiac sign said that you’ll be lucky if you put yourself out there! And you’re outside right now, so you definitely have been buffed. A special power-up, if you will.)

“…hello.” A response. This is a success. A major success that you got on your own accord.

(Onto the next phase!)

“So didya hear about the… Recent sports festival?” You nod your head. Perfect. Perfect follow-up. “Our school held one a couple days ago.”

“Oh. That.” She doesn’t look up from the book she had been reading all this time. And now that you’re much closer to her than you ever were before—

You realize it’s a manga. Not a book. Technically, she is holding onto a book, but utilizing the hard cover page to cover up the fact that the manga had been sneakily slotted in.

“I was meant to join just a day before, actually. But I made my mama wait a couple days more.”

What.

“You waited until the day after?” Why? Why would she— This new girl do such a thing when it could bring you and your class such great glory?

“But the sports festival is fun…” And a great chance to make a ton of new friends. She’s not under the same promises that you made.

She goes silent, the mole on her cheek rising with her huff as she looks off to the side, out to the open air space that held the path to the school entrance as droplets of water tap against the tips of her shoes.

“Cause it’s bothersome.”

Oh. That’s a new type of answer.

“Do you hate bothersome things?”

And finally— She looks into your eyes, pushing back a stray strand of her long hair and her eyes hued with dews of luster brown that reminded you of the autumn sunset surrounded by orange leaves and sunset rays.

“Yea.”

“Oh.” That’s all you know how to say now, actually. Um… How do you respond to that?

So you go silent. You think she might be annoyed. Hopefully she’s not? You hope she likes you, though. And that you left an okayish impression. Should you tell her she’s pretty? But still, Suguru’s prettier but you can’t tell her that—

“Do you… Usually let them treat you like that?” She sounds… Bored. Maybe taken aback. Or was it simply just curiosity?

Either way, you’ve never really heard anyone ask about that— Other than your Mama, of course. But you tell her everything practically everyday.

“Is there something—“ How should you say it? Is she trying to tell you something? You think it’s fine, even if you don’t know how other people view it. “Bad about the way they treat me?”

You watch as she thinks for a bit, staring off to the side for a bit and up into the dark skies as the rain starts to pour just that little bit harder.

“Not at all.”

——

“Stop looking at me like that, you brat.”

Your eyes were practically boring into him as you watch him rub at a bruise on his cheek, his knuckles stained with dried blood and his green eyes narrowed into a mean glare.

“Did you beat up some—“ You try to think about how he described those people the last time you talked to him— Which was around last week, maybe?

“Butt ugly misters?”

It’s not the exact wording he used, but whatever he says makes you scared to parrot them since you’ve seen one of the old aunties— Sugimoto-san quite literally gasp when she heard him talk once.

“They’re motherfuc— Bad people. Don’t call them misters.”

“You said you didn’t care what I call them though.”

And all you get in response is the click of his tongue. “Whatever, brat.”

Silence. It’s steady and beating and not at all uncomfortable as you watch him pull out another piece of his snack, big teeth chewing with an open mouth and manners flying away. Yet, you still end up asking from your built up curiosity and these mere few minutes just before either of your friends would make it home.

It’s your free time, anyway.

“Mister, am I a bothersome person?” Like those thugs that he gets into scraps with practically every month?

A deep huff as his teeth chew on dried squid, gnawing at the tough exterior as he stares off into the oranges of the sky. “Duh. Who even likes annoying brats like you?”

Even when he says it like that, you can’t help but feel that it’s not true. There’s a reason you hang around him, a reason you still stay despite how mean and nasty this almost adult can be and how often he lies about how he definitely didn’t get into fights.

It’s because he reminds you a little of Satoru.

His words may cut, may be a little overwhelming and cruel. But they ultimately held no weight, nothing particularly soul-crushing or tear weeping.

You might even dare to say that even his insults sound very comforting to you.

That was why you were eating the very crushed biscuits that had been almost mashed into dust right out of the very crinkled plastic packaging that it came out from right now.

(He bought it for you.)

“Nuh uh. Mama says I’m a good kid.”

Maybe it’s the sincerity in your tone, the innocence that can only come from a child that got him thinking.

He doesn’t know how to describe how he’s feeling right now as he stares down at his bruised knuckles, bloody and calloused and hastily bandaged as he grunts.

“Then stop hanging out with me if you think that, kid.”

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[carionto]

Humans and Boredom IV | An Arms race has a Finish Line, Right?

Advances in shield technology are rare, but always significant, as they render nearly all weapons systems prior to the new discovery obsolete.

Humans don't really do shields all that much. With how powerful their basic weapons are, any energy shield technology basically didn't do anything worthwhile.

That is, until they got their hands on advances the rest of the Galaxy had made. Particularly deflector shields.

Now, even when supercharged by Human power generators, Human slug weapons still simply go through them, but every energy type weapon is rendered less than useless.

The way deflector shields work is two layered: the first detects and relays the exact characteristics of any known energy type, then the second mimics those but of the opposite polarity. This results in the incoming attack getting harmlessly reflected into space.

Humans plugged one in to a ship that also has a Human quantum computer, which, as all of their computers, are much faster, but are prone to crashes, data loss and corruption, and are just kinds buggy pieces of garbage. But really, really fast garbage. With this speed of computation, the deflector shield becomes an energy mirror. A targetable mirror at that.

Essentially, if you only have energy based weapons and encounter a Human ship with this shield, you can't open fire at them. You will end up attacking yourself. The "stop hitting yourself" protocol, as the Humans have dubbed it. If your shields can withstand your own attacks, you are not in a stalemate - the Human ship has weapons of it's own. Weapons your shields can't endure.

And even if by some miracle they can, every Human vessel has an incredibly powerful plasma weapon - their secondary main thrusters. Run away if a Human ship turns it's back to you but is RCS'ing towards you. You will not survive a plume of raw plasma directly funneled from their miniature star reactor. That's not a thing Human ships can survive. You, in your not-an-abomination-of-all-that-is-sane-engineering space ship, are fucked.

Back to when they first demonstrated what they can do with our deflector shields - they played ping pong with a similar ball of plasma. They did find a limit though - when the energy of the weapon exceeded the energy generators output. As in, that of a miniature star. Then enough of it got through and melted the drone piloted ship.

While we prioritize maintaining good relations with Humanity, we're also looking into reviving the long abandoned teleportation technology route. The combination of Humanity and Earth "vanishing and reappearing", plus unconfirmed rumors from pirate channels that Humans are experimenting with teleporters, make us reevaluate what kind of laws of physics we may have somehow not yet discovered.

One thing Humanity made clear they will not share with us is how they disappeared. Using uncharacteristically strong language with a rarely seen intensity in their tone and gaze. We'll have to figure this out ourselves.

[shiftinglea]

Discovered books by Jane Roberts who was channeling entity called Seth in 1970s to relay messages about the nature of reality and how we create. Here is some passage from her book called “The Nature of A Personal Reality: A Seth book”:

“Your experience in the world of physical matter flows outward from the center of your inner psyche. Then you perceive this experience. Exterior events, circumstances and conditions are meant as a kind of living feedback. Altering the state of the psyche automatically alters the physical circumstances.

There is no other valid way of changing physical events. It might help if you imagine an inner living dimension within yourself in which you create, in miniature psychic form, all the exterior conditions that you know. Simply put, you do exactly this. Your thoughts, feelings and mental pictures can be called incipient exterior events, for in one way or another each of these is materialized into physical reality.

You change even the most permanent-seeming conditions of your life constantly through the varying attitudes you have toward them. There is nothing in your exterior experience that did not originate within you.

Interactions with others do occur, of course, yet there are none that you do not accept or draw to you by your thoughts, attitudes, or emotions. This applies in each area of life. In your terms, it applies both before life and after it. In the most miraculous fashion are you given the gift of creating your experience.

In this existence you are learning to handle the inexhaustible energy that is available to you. The mass condition of the world, and the situation of each individual in it, is the materialization of man's progress as he forms his world.

The joy of creativity flows through you as effortlessly as your breath. From it the most minute areas of your outer experience spring. Your feelings have electromagnetic realities that rise outward, affecting the atmosphere itself. They group through attraction, building up areas of events and circumstances that finally coalesce, so to speak, either in matter as objects — or as events in "time."

Some feelings and thoughts are translated into structures that you cal objects; these exist, in your terms, in a medium you call space. Others are translated instead into psychological structures called events, that seem to exist in a medium you call time”.

Even though we already know this information, I think it serves as a great reminder to us all about our creative abilities. I love finding The Truth about Who We are through different messengers🙏

[squalloscope]

Private Folklore Suit / Dream Suit / Work Suit (embroidery on hand dyed and customized jumpsuit, 2023)

This might be a work in progress, or not. I dream about animals often; it's mostly dogs, sometimes rooms full of snakes, they tell me things I am not allowed to relay to you, sometimes they have human faces; I am never afraid; they are always me just as much as I am them, their mouths filled with miniature daggers, they have sung songs to me and I have sung back.

(I bought this garment last year, hardly ever wore it because it was too pink and purple. I sewed on patches cut from a piece of striped cloth I had had my entire life, dyed the suit navy blue, reshaped the legs, and added embroidery bit by bit. Might add more, depending on what haunts my nights.)

[screamingcrows]

Good luck with your exam! Dropping a 🎲 for destressing if needed. :>

Aaah thank you! Your luck certainly worked wonders!!💙

You rolled 62! "That's too wild for me" and I'll pick.. Dottore (who's surprised) I'm going with one of my fav silly headcanons for this man.

It had been surprisingly easy to convince Dottore that a little time away was necessary. Suspiciously easy. Only a few honeyed words along complaints about the cold winter had him agreeing. But you knew better than to start questioning him, lest you present an argument that made him rethink the decision.

Fontaine was everything you'd longed for, lush fields teeming with life that had you gawking at every opportunity.

Dottore had convinced The Knave to let you stay in one of her little cottages a fair way outside the city, insisting it would be far more comfortable with a more private retreat.

"You're sure everything is fine?"

Not wanting to disturb the curious little creature happily chatting and pointing out landmarks, your voice remained a low whisper. You drank in the sharp outlines of mountains, the outline of something cubic briefly visible. You shook your head to clear it, surely it hadn't been floating?

"Quite."

His fingers tightened a little, thumb beginning to rub circles into the back of your hand, as if you were the one currently looking strung so tightly they might snap. Seeking to alleviate the tension a little, you leaned against his side, glint in your eyes when you whispered.

"You aren't tense because you're afraid those mechanic guards will arrest you the moment you set foot in the city?"

In the interest of subtlety, he'd forgone his usual attire, even the mask had been left behind on the nightstand when you'd gotten up this morning. The click of his tongue brought your mind back in time to hear the low grumble of a reply.

"You'd think so little of me? Nothing that can be traced back, of course," he paused for a moment, moving his free hand to your thigh and giving it a small squeeze, "and they're called 'gardemeks'."

Fontaine's Research Institute had filled the main streets with wondrous inventions, sounds of laughter reaching your ears the moment the aquabus docked. Neither of you had known beforehand about the festival, and you swore Dottore suddenly didn't seem as pale as he had seconds before.

It was always amusing to observe when he became so animated, eyes lighting up with an almost childlike sense of wonder as he paced around, prodding and fidgeting with anything they'd let him touch and then some.

He'd flashed you a toothy grin upon acquiring a fully functional miniature clockwork mecha, moving about the joints as the inventor happily gushed about how he'd optimized the pneumosia relays far beyond what should be possible.

A mistake on the inventors part, but who could fault him for disregarding the possibility that he might be aiding someone considered an enemy. You chuckled, shaking your head with a smile, on second thought, you could mention at least one person who might fault someone for that.

What had caught your eye in particular, was a large metal construction, the top barely visible from within the city. It didn't taken more than a tug at his sleeve and a glance cast towards the attraction before Dottore was making a beeline towards it. His enthusiasm paled when it came fully into view.

A large wheel made of metal beams, spinning languidly as small, colourful carts dangled from the framework. Colorful lights were scattered along the structure, adding to the oddly whimsical atmosphere around it. Before you could notice how wide Dottore's eyes had gotten, you were already trying to tug him closer, grunting at how much resistance the man was suddenly putting up.

Upon turning your head, confusion began to flood your thoughts. Why did he look almost afraid?

"You don't want to go with me?"

"I do, there is just," his eyes flickered and you knew he was lying, "something I must take a look at first. I'll join you in a moment, go on and get in line."

"Will you at least tell my why you're acting so strangely all of a sudden? Shouldn't you be excited about an opportunity to try something like this, the first of its kind? Sure, it's not as 'useful' as the stuff you make, but entertainment has value and I for one would like to-"

Before you could finish, he'd yanked your wrist and was holding you flush against his chest.

"Kinetosis. It's simply too... wild for me," he practically spat out the words, disdain dripping from the words.

You noted with a raised eyebrow that he'd turned his head away, the tips of his ears slightly pink. That in itself was enough to keep you from laughing despite the ridiculousness of something so painfully mundane being the cause of his anguish.

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the trust it had no doubt taken to disclose. Despite knowing it would only last for the few days you had left in Fontaine, you couldn't help but relish in the feeling of such an inconsequential thing being the cause of your worries.

Link to the prompts

[verai-marcel]

Your Hearth Is My Home (BG3 Fanfic, Astarion x Female Reader, Part 24 of 28)

Summary, Notes, Tags, & Part 1 are here.

Act I - Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

Act II - Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | 

Act III - Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 (18+) | Part 28 (END)

AO3 Link is here, my sweet.

Word Count: 4,380

Act III, Chapter 3 - The Torment

The next morning started off like any other. However, you were surprised when Wyll, Karlach, and Jaheira came back in the late afternoon with a tall, muscular, and bald man with a small rodent on his shoulder. Karlach and Wyll were following the other two with expressions of awe.

I wonder if he’s an associate of Jaheira’s… that would explain why Karlach and Wyll are fawning so hard.

The man saw you and grinned broadly, waving cheerfully at you. Your seal pulsed strongly in return.

Who exactly is this man?

Coming up to the group, you smiled warmly. “Welcome back, everyone. Who’s our new friend?”

“I am Minsc!” Then he held out his hand for the little rodent to hop onto his palm and held him out to you. “And this is Boo, the mighty miniature giant space hamster.”

When the hamster looked at you, your seal pulsed again, sending heat waves through your blood. You looked back up at Minsc, and the power ebbed away.

What. No way. It was the hamster that is the powerful one here?

Boo chittered, and while everyone else was looking at the creature, you noticed that Minsc was listening intently as if he understood every little squeak.

“Oh, yes, of course,” he mumbled. Then he gingerly brought Boo back to his shoulder. “Boo is looking forward to sampling your fine dishes and to hear your singing. Karlach and Wyll have been praising your talents!”

You blinked. “Um, alright, I’ll do my best,” you said, directing your reply to the little hamster. Looking into its eyes, you suspected you saw understanding, and even more, satisfaction.

Welp, that was strange.

You learned from the others that the underground guild in the city and Jaheira had made a deal: she got help finding Minsc, and in exchange, they had chased the Zhentarim out of the city. You breathed a sigh of relief.

So I didn’t need to worry about them after all. Thank the gods. Or rather, thank Jaheira.

Karlach patted your back. “I’m relieved. One crime group is enough for this city, hah!”

You laughed, hiding your nerves. “Yup, good riddance.” And now they’ll never know.

Leading the others to the campfire, you served them some drinks and some snacks and listened to them regaling you with their adventure, which had taken them all across the city, even to the deepest bank vaults. They had even found Mol and a couple other tiefling children in the Guild, running their business, and doing quite well for themselves.

“Oh good, I’d like to go back to the other tiefling children and let them know Mol is safe,” you said.

“I can do it,” Karlach said with a smile. “I’m sure Wyll would want to see them again too.”

Wyll nodded, and you caught his soft look as he watched Karlach.

Oh ho, his love grows.

After their story, you rooted around through the pile of loot for any extra bedrolls or fabric to make a tent for the newcomer. Just as you had managed to find enough rags to weave together, you heard the alarm bells on your belt chime softly.

Turning toward the entrance, the others had arrived looking a bit worn out. As they joined the group at the campfire, Shadowheart relayed what had happened.

“We literally went to hell and back. But now Lae’zel has a way to free Orpheus.”

The githyanki nodded with a slight smirk. Oh, she’s quite pleased.

“And we may have a change of accommodations,” Gale said. “The Elfsong has an upper floor penthouse available if we wish to use it, for a discounted fee.”

“Are there enough beds for everyone?” you asked, sweeping your hand towards everyone, including Shadowheart’s parents, Isobel, and Aylin, who were hanging back, listening in.

“Plenty of beds,” Gale replied.

“And why the discount?” you questioned. Inns don’t give discounts unless…

“There might have been a murder on that floor, and that might be scaring off the guests.”

Everyone looked at Gale.

“Look, just because one person died there doesn’t mean we should stay out in the open for the remainder of our time here.”

After some thought, the group began to mumble agreement.

Wait. Then that means…

“So you won’t be needing me any further,” you quietly said.

All eyes turned to you.

“Well, of course we need you, darling.” Astarion walked up to you and patted your head. “You still have to feed me.” He gestured towards everyone else. “And these fools couldn’t clean worth a damn.”

You glanced at everyone else, who were mostly shrugging sheepishly.

“And who’s going to take care of the giant pile of souvenirs that Karlach and Astarion keep pilfering?” Wyll joked.

“Some of those are from you too!” Karlach shot back, lightly shoving Wyll, who only laughed.

“The point is, you’re part of the team,” Gale said softly. “We need you just as much as anyone else.”

You turned back to Astarion, who nodded and took your hand, holding it gently, his thumb rubbing circles over your knuckles. Leaning closer, he whispered in your ear, “Besides, you promised you would stay with me, didn’t you?”

You nodded.

“Good girl,” he murmured before pulling back. Turning to everyone else, he shot them all a triumphant grin. “So, shall we upgrade our accommodations?”

***

By the time you all had finished packing and moving everyone’s things out of the harbor and to the Elfsong, the sun had just dipped below the horizon. Yet the tavern was already loud and lively, full of music and drinkers. Gale went to the front desk and paid for the new lodgings, holding up a key triumphantly to everyone before leading the group upstairs.

“Probably best if I keep a low profile. They used to know me all too well in here,” Astarion muttered to you as he helped take the packs up the stairs, attempting to blend in with the others. You watched his back as he went up the stairs, walking closely to the floating disc as it hovered behind Gale. Your eyes wandered down the line of Astarion’s body, down his back, his hips, his—

Gods, what am I doing?

You shook your head and re-focused on the back of his head, but he had already caught you staring, as he looked back at you with a knowing smirk.

“Admire all you like, darling.”

You immediately looked away and huffed.

His sly grin stayed on his face throughout the rest of the unpacking.

***

Since you didn’t need to cast warming cantrips any longer, you could spend your time sorting the loot pile and going out to the market to sell whatever you could, and buying fresh groceries. You were actually excited to see what kind of fresh vegetables and herbs you could get, now that you were in a large city.

“You’re sounding happy,” Shadowheart said as she approached, kneeling down next to you while you polished some of the tarnished jewelry with a rag.

You stopped humming and smiled up at her. “Well, I can finally catch up on some inventory management,” you said, pointing at the rather large pile of knick knacks and herbs. “You lot seem to have sticky fingers.”

“It’s how I grew up,” Karlach said as she joined the two of you, sitting cross legged on the other side of you. “Take everything of value and sort it out later for pocket change.”

You nodded. “That’s fair. I just haven’t had much of a chance to go through it all lately, and it seems like everyday you come back with more.”

Gale suddenly came up and tapped Shadowheart’s shoulder. With one look, her eyebrows furrowed and she got up. 

“We’re going to plan our next trip into the Undercity. We’ll probably need to split up if we want to stop the murders and find where Orin is hiding.”

You nodded and watched as everyone gathered around the table in the main sitting room on the upper level. Remaining in the lower area near the fireplace, you continued to sort through everything, catching bits and pieces of their conversation.

“...have to find where the Bhaalspawn…”

“...Orin’s base might be…”

You finished sorting what you could, and pulled together all the random coins you had found. There was a significant amount, so you didn’t feel bad about ordering room service tonight.

“I’m going downstairs to order us a meal to be brought up, are there any requests?”

***

As you came downstairs with a long piece of paper full of meal requests, you ran into a familiar face.

“Lakrissa!” you said with a bright smile.

She called your name excitedly and gave you a hug. “What are you doing here?”

“We got a room upstairs, at a discounted rate.”

“Oh, the murder room. Well, I suppose that wouldn’t bother your group much, would it?”

You laughed. “Nope, not after what they’ve seen. Oh, I need to put their supper order in.”

Lakrissa smiled and took your order for you, telling you to wait by the stairs for her while she gave it to the kitchen. When she returned, she gave you a wide grin.

“Follow me,” she said quietly as she nodded toward the back staircase. 

She snuck you up to the rooftop, where you heard a soft lute and a familiar voice.

You smiled, afraid to stop Alfira’s singing. She was swaying softly to her song, her back to you and Lakrissa, the gibbous moon shining brightly above her head. The two of you enjoyed her song until the end, applauding her just as she turned around.

The bard smiled, pleasantly surprised to see you. You hugged, and the three of you caught up on each other’s lives since the Last Light Inn.

“Would you join me for a song?” Alfira asked. “If you have time, that is.”

You turned to Lakrissa. She nodded. “You’ll have time. With the amount of orders you put in, you could sing out here for a half hour and it wouldn’t be done.”

The two of you figured out a song you both knew, and while she played and sang harmony, you took the lead, letting your voice carry on the rooftop, and letting the tingling feeling on your spine travel through your body, through your lungs, through your throat. You felt almost as if you could layer your voice if you pushed your power through yourself hard enough.

On the last lyric, you let your vibrato go longer and harder than you ever had, leaving just enough breath to end the song on a delicate sigh.

A raucous applause startled you, and you turned to see all of your companions standing behind Lakrissa, who was wearing a sly grin.

“You cheeky woman!” Alfira said to her as Lakrissa came up and placed her hand on the small of her back.

You were distracted from their cute banter by everyone else’s compliments. You shyly bowed.

“Boo says that was a most wonderful performance, rivaling the great opera singers from Waterdeep!”

You flinched involuntarily at the mention of Waterdeep, but you acted as if you didn’t. “You’re too kind,” you said with a smile. 

Lakrissa tapped your shoulder. “I can go check if your food is ready, but would you all want to eat up here? It’s a beautiful moonlit night!”

You turned to everyone else, who seemed to be enjoying themselves, catching up with Alfira and admiring the view.

“That sounds lovely.”

As she went downstairs, you spotted some tables and chairs scattered around the rooftop and had an idea. You took a deep breath and began to hum, walking to the furniture and tapping them lightly. As if they suddenly gained sentience, they hopped and began to follow you, arranging themselves into a nice group formation.

Everyone had gone silent, watching you work. You paid them no mind, singing a song about faerie lights, touching the leaves and vines around the area, making them glow orange and pink and purple. Lost in the sensation of the magic and the music flowing through your body, you spun around and swayed your arms, letting the lights glow brighter as your power pulsed against your skin.

Suddenly Astarion was standing next to you, his hand on the small of your back, pressing on your seal. He kissed your cheek and pulled you close, interrupting your song.

“I couldn’t help myself darling,” he said a bit too loudly as he dragged you away from everyone else. Karlach tried to peek, but Shadowheart shooed her and the other onlookers back to the tables to wait for their food.

Away from the crowd, Astarion whispered into your ear. “Your seal was glowing brightly through your clothes.” His hand pressed harder against your back. “Be careful.”

You looked up at him, surprised at his look of concern. “Oh. Thank you,” you murmured. It didn’t feel like burning this time, though. It felt… powerful. 

He guided you back to the tables just in time for Lakrissa and another worker to bring the trays of food for everyone. Using your party as an excuse, she stayed behind and ate with you, along with Alfira, who entertained you all with music through the rest of dinner.

It was a wonderful evening, and you treasured it.

***

The next morning, the others left, but came back within an hour to talk to Dame Aylin. You overheard something about a tower and a wizard who had put a price on her head, and she immediately charged out the doors. Isobel followed the group out to follow her.

You turned to Shadowheart’s parents. “Erm, well, I was about to go out and get groceries. I should be back soon.”

They nodded and told you that they would let the others know if they came back before you did.

Out in the city, you felt relatively safe, anonymous in the large crowds. You walked over to a jeweler and bartered away some of the found gems and trinkets for a great price, adding to your coin pouch. Heading down to the marketplace, you managed to get an excellent cut of venison from the butcher and some fresh herbs and vegetables. Holding the bag in your arms, you headed back to the Elfsong.

Halfway there, your seal pulsed. You immediately looked around.

A man, with a patch over his eye and a large sword at his side, scratched his arm, his sleeve lifting up to reveal a tattoo of a legless dragon in flight. It was a tattoo you recognized with ease.

A Zhent!

You quickly began to walk away, turning a corner beyond the Elfsong, unwilling to make the mistake of leading someone straight to your home base. Instead, you walked through the graveyard, then past the tombmaker’s shop. Just as you were rounding the corner to make a loop back home, you heard a familiar voice calling your name.

Turning around, you were met with Gale, smiling and waving his hand to you.

“Can you follow me for a moment? I have something to show you,” he said, gesturing for you to follow.

Your seal pulsed with a stinging heat.

“Um, let me put these groceries away first.”

“We haven’t the time,” he insisted, coming closer to you.

Gale would have offered to carry my groceries for me by now. This isn’t him! 

Without another word, you turned to run.

The doppelganger grabbed the collar of your shirt and pulled hard, choking you. Dropping your bag of groceries, you pulled at your collar, trying to get some air, but they were strong. One arm wrapped around your mouth.

“You’ve got wits, but no power. Pity,” a woman’s voice hissed in your ear.

You felt a sharp pain to your temple, and then you felt nothing at all as everything went black.

***

Astarion and the others returned to their room in the Elfsong, ready for a long rest. Upon entering the room, however, he smelled something distinctly… vile.

“Welcome back,” said the creature posing as his hearth witch. Though she looked like her, she definitely didn’t sound like her. The soothing warm tone of her voice could not be replicated by any other.

“You’re not her.” Astarion glared at the shapeshifter, disgusted that she would take the form of his beloved.

Orin pouted. “How could you tell so quickly?”

“I could smell your stench a mile away.”

Everyone looked on in horror as a crazed, maniacal grin grew on their hearth witch’s face. And when she twisted back to her usual form, everyone felt a fear and anger that they could not swallow down.

“If you want your precious friend, then kill Gortash for me and bring me his netherstone.” She disappeared in a burst of pink petals, her insane laughter bleeding away.

Astarion could barely contain his rage. “We don’t have time, we have to find her now,” he snarled.

The others agreed. 

“Don’t worry Astarion, we’ll find her,” Wyll said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Orin won’t get away with this.”

He nodded as he tried to keep a level head. But it was so, so hard.

If Orin touches her… she’ll feel her madness. She’ll feel everything.

***

You woke up to a world of pain, your entire body feeling as if it was on fire. You shifted and gasped in agony.

Then your memories of the last 24 hours returned, and you nearly vomited. You had so, so many cuts across your body. Your clothes had been sliced to shreds, and your skin along with it.

The crazed cackle of your captor drew your attention. Orin licked her knife with glee. “Your blood is the sweetest,” she murmured. 

And then she wrapped her hand around your neck. You let out a hoarse cry of agony as her madness seeped into you. No amount of mental guarding could keep out the intensity of her insanity.

c̵̝̽u̵̩͌t̵͇͛ ̷̗̕c̵͉͌ṵ̵͝t̴̝̓ ̵̫͋m̸͙̚a̶̧̾i̴͈͋m̴̱̀ ̷̳̔m̸͇͛a̸̢͝i̸̗͗m̴͎͝ ̴̡̒m̷͍̈́ṵ̶͗r̵̝̾d̷̜̄e̸̤͋r̵̹͝ ̷̮̓m̸̳̊ủ̵͚r̸̖͑d̷͈̿e̴̞̐r̸̻͋k̶̜̋i̷̪͊l̶̝̔l̸͚̀k̴̫̃i̶͈̓l̴͇̀ĺ̶͙K̴͉̍Ȋ̶͜L̸͈͛L̵̫͌ ̴̢̀K̸̯̈I̸͍̿L̸̘̍Ľ̶̪ ̶̘̈K̴͇͘I̴̬͐L̶͚̀L̶̤̓—̸̟̀ ̵͉̏

You squeezed your eyes shut to drown out the voices in your head.

“Who knew you would be so sensitive to just my mere touch! Such a delight to torture.”

You could barely hear her words beyond the pounding of blood in your ears. Is this what she constantly felt? Wave after wave of darkness, followed by an alternating current of rage, a frenzied, frenetic need to hurt, to kill. 

It was so dissonant from your usual emotions that you were having a physical reaction. Your blood pumped harder, spilling more from your wounds. You were weakening, your limbs feeling heavier with each passing moment.

“Let go of me!” you cried, your hands wet with your blood as you tugged weakly at Orin's arm. 

She only laughed. “Why should I? Your agony is the sweetest candy on my tongue.” Grabbing your wrist and twisting it painfully, she brought the inside of your arm to her mouth. While she stared at you with her crazed glare, she licked your blood, savoring it, smearing it all over her lips. 

“No!” You shrieked, trying to jerk your arm away. It was a useless endeavor; she was far stronger than you could ever be. “That blood is not for you!” 

You tugged harder, the blood making your skin slippery. Her grip tightened until you felt your bones begin to yield, the pain making you keen. 

“You make the most lovely sounds when in pain,” she murmured, letting go of your wrist and your throat. Placing the tip of her knife at your collarbone, she grinned maniacally. The sharp tip pierced your skin, the slow, burning sting making you whimper in pain. 

“Let me hear you sing in agony once more—“

“My lady!” 

Orin immediately grabbed the servant by the throat. “How. Dare. You. Interrupt me!” 

“There…. are… intruders…” the servant gurgled.

You looked up, grateful for any distraction that kept Orin’s knife away from your collarbone. In the distance, you could see your companions as they charged down the stairs. A sense of relief flooded you. 

Your friends. They were here. Thank the gods. 

All of the stress and the injuries suddenly overwhelmed you, and your vision blurred. Did Orin just transform into a beastly creature? The party threw themselves into the fray, fighting off the other cultists while Karlach and Lae'zel focused on Orin. 

The last thing you saw was Astarion rushing past the beast towards you, calling out your name. 

***

It had been a hell of a battle, and Astarion barely remembered it. Once he had secured his beloved in a safe corner, he had lashed out, stabbing Orin until she screamed in agony. Then he sprinted back, picked up his little hearth witch in his arms and brought her to Shadowheart, who immediately healed her wounds. Her clothes were shredded to tatters, and even after her wounds had closed, she was still out cold.

“She may be mentally overwhelmed,” Shadowheart said.

He only nodded before setting off at a hurried pace to get back to the Elfsong, cradling her closely.

After they got out of the Undercity, she finally spoke to him again. “I'm surprised by how far you've come, Astarion. I didn't think you'd ever care so deeply about anyone.”

“I didn’t think so either,” he replied carefully. “But she managed to weasel her way in.”

“It's funny how the little things do so much. A warm meal, a soft touch, a gentle smile. She's brought us all out of our shells, made us feel safe.”

“Yes…” He looked down at his love. “She feels like home.”

Shadowheart didn’t miss the softness in his eyes as he spoke, gazing at his witch.

***

“Seems strange, doesn't it?” Shadowheart mused while she sat with the other around the communal table, snacking on some cheese. 

“Well, they're lovers now, right? I wouldn't let anyone touch you either.”

Shadowheart frowned, even though she felt a bit tickled by Gale's protective comment. “That's fair. But he barely let me finish healing her before snatching her away.”

Gale shrugged. “Some people go a little crazy when they fall in love. I certainly don't blame him for acting this way. She's been kidnapped twice now, right under our noses.”

Nodding, Shadowheart grew quiet for a moment. “What do you think he meant when he said her skin was sensitive?”

Karlach suddenly lifted her head. “I asked her about why she wore gloves all the time and she said it was a secret. Maybe she just has super sensitive skin!” 

The others just accepted that conclusion and moved on to other topics, but Shadowheart kept chewing on the thought.

What if…?

***

You regained consciousness as Astarion was lifting you in his arms. You felt his worry for you through your bare skin before you realized that he had taken his shirt off, and you were fully naked.

“What’s going on?” you mumbled.

“We rescued you,” he answered, his voice soft. “And now I’m giving you a bath. You’re covered in blood.”

“Oh.”

Astarion slowly lowered you into the tub, the water immediately turning red as the dried blood on your skin was washed away. The warmth was soothing against your freshly healed body and you started to relax. But the moment Astarion let go of you, the pain from before came rolling back. When Orin had held you down, her madness had borne down on you, unrelenting, and it returned now in ripples of mania.

You struggled to stay alert, but you could feel your mind slowly dissociating. Your consciousness faded as you battled the memories. 

b̸̫̅͆ͅl̴̛̼̳̎ǒ̶̭́͜o̵̢̔ḋ̵̘̈́ ̷̢̬͌͘b̸̮͖̔l̸̙̬͘o̷͕̩̿̊o̸̬̐d̶̛͉ ̷̙̰̔c̷̢̩̈́ų̵̰͝t̶̖̲͆̿ ̷̭̬͝c̴̬̙̃u̴̱͋́t̶͆̆ͅ

“Darling?” 

s̷̖̍l̵͕͋i̵̗͒̾c̴̻̫̔̀ē̶̝ ̴͉͝͝s̵̝̋̅l̸̠̏́i̴̳̚c̷͚̎̒e̸̜̜̒ ̵̹͂̎ͅh̵̤̋̐ư̶̥͌r̵̖͚̆t̶̡̬̋ ̸̤͓̌h̵̗͑̓ų̵̙̾͊r̸͖̍̀t̶̼̎͘ ̸̙̐̍m̷͈͝a̷̘͎͗̊i̵̩̦̊̌m̷̳̗̿̈ ̵̞̂m̶͚͍͒͠a̵̠͚̚i̴̭͋̏m̶̹͖͊̓

Suddenly your mind went blank as Astarion pulled you out of the tub and into his embrace. You wanted to chide him about getting his pants dirty with the bloody water, that you were naked, that this was wholly inappropriate… 

But when you felt the overwhelming feeling of love and protection around you, it silenced everything else. The echoes of Orin's insanity, the screams of your own mental state, everything. 

All you felt was Astarion's love for you, and it brought you back to the present. 

And you cried. 

“I've got you, my sweet. I've got you,” he murmured as you shook uncontrollably.

“I hate this!” you cried. “I…I'm weak. I'm helpless. I didn't… I didn't want to be a burden!”

Astarion hushed you gently, nuzzling your cheek with the tip of his nose. “What's that irritating thing that Gale always says about burdens?”

It took you a moment to remember. “A burden shared is a burden halved?” 

“Yes. That.” He guided your chin up to look at him. “We both have our share of burdens. I accept yours, just as you accepted mine.”

“So you can say nice things,” you teased through your tears. “You won't abandon me?” you asked quietly. 

“You're the heart I thought I had lost,” he quietly confessed. “So don't even think for a moment that I'd ever let you go.” He held you tighter. “You're mine, burdens and all.”

He coaxed you back into the tub, and kept at least one hand on your skin as he helped you get clean. While you knew you were healed, you sometimes saw the cuts that Orin had inflicted as an afterimage on your skin. You had to shake your head and force the vision away from your mind.

While you were fighting the demons in your head, Astarion bathed you, dried you off, and took you to bed, wrapping you up in his arms, against his bare chest. 

“Will you be alright?” he asked softly, his gaze full of concern.

You took a deep breath. Would you? Orin did a hell of a number on you. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced, and you had seen some strange things in Waterdeep. Hells, you had faced a vampire lord and survived.

And yet…

“I’ll be alright,” you finally said.

He raised an eyebrow.

“I really will,” you insisted. “It may take some time, but you’ll be here to help, won’t you?”

His eyes softened. “Of course, darling.”

It wasn’t until you were mostly asleep that you realized that you were still naked, skin against skin with Astarion.

And yet, it was the most comfortable you had ever been with him, his arms wrapped protectively around you.

---------------------------

Act III, Chapter 3 End notes: Sorry for the lateness, had to work double digit hours every day this week at work, but finally got some time to edit and post this chapter! I’m really leaning into that hurt/comfort trope here and I regret nothing. But I think this will be about as much as I can write in terms of injuries, because honestly, our dear little witch needs to catch a break.

Also a bit of behind the scenes here: I absolutely killed that Zhentarim plotline, because it wasn’t working for me and it does get conveniently taken care of by Jaheira in the game. And I was thinking that HW was being a bit paranoid; she hasn’t seen a Zhent in years since the last time she was in the Gate. Also, the masked lord has basically forgotten about her, but she doesn’t know that.

Please leave me a comment and let me know what you thought of this chapter!

Tags List: @numblytemporary @xalphafox @avitute @stormyjane7 @kmoon21

[skullsnbruises]

We posted this on ao3 last night while we were Not Sober so if it’s wordy or confusing we wrote it, again, Not Sober. This is a rewrite of our very first vore fic (shrinking potions and witches)

[Ao3 Link]

Taglist: @poprockpanda @brick-a-doodle-do @local-squishmallow @dingbatnix @data-expunged-0 @da3dm

From Mouth to Mistake

[1730 words] [vomit, fear, violence, digestion mention]

Mining all day was an exhausting duty, but as leader of Business Bay, it was one Tommy wasn’t exactly able to skip. Sweaty, tired and slightly delirious from the day-long excavation underground, the teen was happy to once again be on the surface. He made note of his boys, pointing out in his mind their schedules. Bitzel was caring for his cats, and headed inside his house. Luke had mentioned he’d be out spending time with friends right now. And Deo was…

“Deo?!” Tommy’s voice sounded throughout the open hills of the isolated bay in annoyed search of his friend. The man had assured Tommy they’d meet soon, and yet, Deo was nowhere to be seen. And within Business Bay, it was fairly easy to spot anyone across the plains, mind the few buildings.

Retiring to the map, he made use of the paper, spotting out the member of the bay with the locator. It took Tommy a few takes to realize that the indicator being so near wasn’t a mistake. Upon hearing a small distant shriek, Tommy turned all around in the way of the small sounds.

Settling to titling his head downward, a tiny speck of orange caught the blonde’s eyes. Tommy’s mouth went agape, realizing the tiny thing was Deo.

His hands came down fast around the miniature person, scooping him up right into his fingers, and lifting himself back up, Deo covered in his palms.

The tiny Deo squeaked out dizzily, yelping about how fast Tommy was moving.

“Deo! How in the fuck did you get so small?” Tommy found the situation a lot funnier than his friend did.

“Tommy, this is serious!” The man whined, “a witch shrunk me!”

Wiping away a tear from his laughter, the blonde replaced the second hand’s emptiness with a sharpened glinting sword. A low chuckle remained on his lips as Tommy headed in the pointed out direction, and easily slayed the mob.

“That hard, huh?” Tommy mocked his small companion.

“Easier when you’re normal size!” He shot back.

Laughing still, Tommy continued, “Well, I guess we gotta get you back to n-“

Deo, holding his tiny map, cut off the blonde, “I was trying to tell you, Tommy, Icebomb is on his way over. He’s gonna murder me if he sees I’m this vulnerable!”

“Literally,” Tommy hummed, “What should we do? Do I hide you?”

Deo stammered, “Yes- quick, he’s right,” he took to pointing in the sky, the plane fast approaching, “there.”

Tommy gasped, hand moving with a mind of its own up to his open mouth. Barely giving it a second to relay the idea, Tommy panted out, “Hidin’ you here!-“ before Deo’s body became engulfed in the dark wetness that was the inside of Tommy’s mouth.

The turning of the jet’s engine whirred to a halt as it settled on their territory.

Deo became painfully aware of the new sensations he was forced into. All of the sudden, his body was wet, clothes sticking grossly against his skin. A strong muscle jumped up at him, the red thing darting towards Deo’s head, thrusting him down into its wetness, pressing him claustrophobically between its sides. Deo was crushed, sandwiched between the tongue as it rolled lazily over his hat. The brunette exclaimed, reaching to grab it back before the intrusive tongue snatched it away.

The man gasped, and he tugged on the tongue. A shout was stuck in Deo’s throat, being smushed around, battled back and forth into the insides of Tommy’s cheeks. He was helpless against the blonde. Completely shrouded in darkness, Deo was left at the mercy of who he thought was his closest friend, now turned his captor.

Checking the map again, Icebomb’s icon was right on top of their territory, and as he looked up, Tommy spot the plane not too far from them. He quickly pushed Deo to the back of his throat, fighting against the tugging and pulling on his uvula. The blonde tilted his head back, opening his maw to shout, “I’m trying to hide you, dickhead!”

Deo screamed for Bit and Luke to come help him, but of course, he was too small for anyone other than the predator to hear him. The words confused the brunette. How in Prime could Tommy be helping him when he was going to be digested? The realization terrified him. Tommy had been playing this whole time, and the moment Deo was weak, he was being eaten. Swallowed down, down, until he slowly burnt in the stomach acid, and died wrong about his supposed friend.

“Go down, dammit!” Tommy turned from Icebomb’s sight, noticing the teen was leaving the plane and had seen the leader.

A finger reached inside. The sun blinded Deo as his sunglasses fell off his face and went straight down the death trap. He instinctively reached a hand out to catch them, the glasses slipping just past his fingertips and losing to the void. Deo cussed under his breath and realized his grip was slipping. Desperate fingers slid down the glossy surface. Cries left the brunette as his last two fingers left the uvula.

Deo fell, caught only by Tommy’s tightening esophagus. Survival instincts kicked in, and the brunette’s mind was overtaken by the single only sheer need to escape. He used his nails, scraping into the malleable flesh suffocating him all around.

“Ack,-“ Tommy choked on his friend, “fuck!-“ He covered his mouth with his hands, gulping hard to send the struggling Deo down. How many times was he needing to remind the dumbass this was their plan? There was a bigger threat than Tommy would ever be fast approaching from behind.

The muscles squeezed around Deo’s body, squishing him into the squishy flesh. He was drug deep down the throat. Swallow after swallow, eventually he was guided to the sphincter. The small tube-like entrance was shut tight until Deo’s shoes met the small hole. It then embraces the brunette’s form, opening itself wide to accept the figure.

“Tommy?” Icebomb asked with only a hint of suspicion.

One last gulp, and Tommy spun around like his life depended on it, stumbling over his own feet in the process, “Icebomb! Hello! Uh, what’s up?”

“Where’s Deo,” the other teen was quick to the point, “I’ve got a little something I wanna show off…” he brandished a shiny new sword, relishing over its polished look.

Tommy swallowed again, out of fear this time, “N-no idea!” He played it ‘cool’, acting incredibly not obvious, in his head.

“Riiight,” Icebomb gave him a suspicious glare, eyeing his entire body. Tommy’s hands came around his middle.

The sound of speaking was blaring in Deo’s ears, causing a ringing in his head. Tommy’s voice was so brash and loud, that Deo could feel his head spinning. The pulling of the sphincter brought the brunette to meet Tommy’s stomach. He fell in with a splash beneath him. A mixture of acid, saliva, and puddles of partially digested food were what surrounded Deo; such a ‘pleasant’ environment.

“I promise, no idea where he is,” the pool swished him around as Tommy moved.

The voices were so muffled amongst the loud thrumming of his quickened heart, Deo’s racing as well, the gurgling of the stomach walls, and the heavy breathing in Tommy’s nearby giant lungs.

“Where’s he hiding?”

The stomach churned, gurgles and groans joining together in a cacophony of noise. A high pitched bubbling was the last uncomfortable sounding noise before Tommy let out a shy burp. The blonde coughed into his hand, readjusting himself.

“S-sorry, uh, but I don’t know. Deo likes going missing, doesn’t he…?” Tommy laughed awkwardly.

Icebomb groaned, “Fine, I’m coming back later though,” he spat.

Metallic clanging and the sudden jostling of Doe’s body amongst the stomach altered the man of the altercation outside.

He felt hopeless, tears dripping off his chin into the mixture beneath him. Deo pitied how he could barely fend off a witch earlier, being overpowered so easy. The glass shattering echoed in his memory, recalling the shrinking process and how it left him feeling dizzy, lightheaded, and small. Not only was he hardly a few inches tall now, but he felt as small as he was. Pitiful, meak, and a quick meal.

Betrayed by his closest friend, banished to die alone in the acids.

But… he wasn’t burning alive in the pool of stomach acid. There was a numb tingling against his skin and wet clothes, but nothing hurt, nor was he melting.

Deo was… safe?

“Listen, get out of here, bitch, otherwise I’m going to make you,” Tommy growled under his breath, watching Icebomb’s expression falter.

He retreated, surrendering his diamond sword, “Fine!”

Juggled around once more, Tommy gave Icebomb a scar to make sure he’d not be back soon.

The lungs and heart snuggling Deo heaved, beating and breathing harmoniously in a labored way. Tommy was panting, and his heartbeat was booming.

Deo’s heart ached alongside the giant’s, all the anxiety catching up to cause a very exhausted man to lose all his adrenaline.

Tommy was running, Deo could tell from the way the liquid sloshed side to side, like a tide bringing him in and washing him back out again and again.

A door slammed. Tommy’s stomach sunk, dropping Deo nauseously.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Tommy sighed out, “We’re safe, I’m letting you out now.”

A few attempts to gag himself, and Tommy finally had managed to get his body to react, the reflex dragging Deo’s soaked body back up and into Tommy’s, frankly disgusting, palms.

Deo shuddered in the cool air, shaking off the digested food and acid.

“You’re okay!” Tommy beamed, “Fuck, Deo I’m so sorry, that was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done-, I should’ve put you in a pocket or something!”

Deo heaved, “It’s okay, Tommy. I wasn’t getting digested or anything…” he thought, “I think the potion let me live.”

Tommy gave a half smile, “I’m just happy you’re okay. That fucked scared me-“

“You?” Deo laughed, “I thought I was going to die!”

“I thought I’d killed you!”

The two shared in laughter over the odd situation. At least they could find the entertainment in it, rather than becoming traumatized from the near-death, and near-murder.

“Let’s never let that happen again,” Tommy chuckled.

Deo smiled, “Never again.”

They’d have to be extra careful around witches in the future.

[sortyourlifeoutmate]

I’m a huge nerd with an odd fascination for both firearms and made-up firearms, and so the way guns work in Mass Effect has always confused and irritated me, doubly so whenever I see anyone else online talk about it as they are all almost always wrong in frustrating ways.

Not like me, I’m never like that.

The core conceit for guns in Mass Effect goes something like this:

Electromagnetic acceleration. That’s all you get told, but looking at just about every gun in the game you can assume they’re probably coilguns, but I doubt you’re meant to think about it too hard.

A mass effect field is used to lower the mass of the projectile, allowing it to be accelerated even faster than usual (personally I’d have said it allowed acceleration at lower energy levels, as coilguns and railguns and the like are notoriously thirsty systems, power-wise, but whatever).

Ammunition for the weapons comes in the form of an internal block of metal that, when the trigger is pulled, has a bit shaved off it and fired. These blocks can provide, it is said, thousands of rounds.

An internal computer is what decides how best to shave the block, apparently, and compensates for environmental conditions, it is said.

Now, that’s not awful on the face of it, I guess, but there are issues that rapidly pile up.

While it is never stated explicitly how big rounds are for any gun, it is mentioned in the codex entry that with sufficient kinetic energy even a sandgrain sized object would have devastating power. This is true. But that doesn’t say that what you’re firing is the size of a grain of sand, though it is often assumed that it is. The most it says is that the slugs are ‘tiny’.

What’s doing the heavy lifting in this mental picture here is the rationale that if you get something fast enough, it can do a lot of damage. This is true. But I feel in the rush to get to this certain important considerations might have been overlooked.

For one, I’m never clear on when the mass-reducing field stops being active on the projectile. Does it carry the whole way until it hits the target? What keeps the field active, is that how they work? I was never sure. More’s the point if it stays on all the way, what is keeping a massless grain of sand moving in anything close to a straight line? In space that might work but in atmosphere?

You ever heard of projectile salvo? Where the salient point here is that very light, very high velocity projectiles sometimes got deflected by rain?

And if the mass effect field doesn’t carry all the way to the target – which seems more likely to me – then you’re not getting the speeds some people are claiming you get, which makes firing a grain of sand at someone (or a ‘tiny slug’, whatever that is) kind of dumb, which makes the this whole ‘block of metal’ thing also kind of dumb. Some people are really, really insistent on the speed though.

I have seen at least one person claim that the weapons act as ‘miniature mass relays’ and fire their projectiles ‘close to the speed of light’ which is…wrong…on so many levels. For one thing the guns are not miniature mass relays because that would be ludicrous. I could get into why it’s ludicrous but suffice to say mass relays big, guns small. On the other side if you are standing there, a person, firing your rifle and what is coming out of that rifle is going anywhere near any fucking percentage of C, you are probably dead.

I’m not a fucking physicist or anything, I’m just – that’s common-sense, surely?

So no, not lightspeed, no, not anywhere near lightspeed, no. Extremely high velocity? Sure, totally. But not that high velocity. No-one’s talking cover behind a fucking crate if you’re shooting at them with something like that, yeah?

It’s also made pretty clear in the codex that recoil is a limiting factor for ultimate force put onto a target, albeit mitigated by the mass effect fields. Which tracks, as it explains why things like the Widow even exist in the first place, and are apparently so nasty to fire. If a basic Avenger is kicking out rounds at something of a few percent of C, then I’m not sure why you’d need a specific anti-Krogan rifle. The Krogan would be soup. So would anything behind them. And beneath and above them.

And you.

And what would be the point of a dedicated shotgun anyway? Couldn’t you tell your little gun computer in your Avenger to switch to shotgun mode and it’d shaved of a little handful of tiny grains and fire those? Why couldn’t it? Mean, wouldn’t be as good as a dedicated platform, I guess (none of which have stocks, as is noted – and why does everyone hold their submachineguns janky? And why do SMG’s even still exist? Gah!).

None of this matters, obviously. It’s all very video-gamey. Doubly so from the second game onwards where guns got more differentiated because that’s more fun and also reloading came back (heatsinks, ahem). It’s all basically a sci-fi-y excuse for why your guns aren’t lasers (sidebar: why aren’t there man-portable lasers?) and, along with many things in Mass Effect, the questionable scientific veracity of it all goes right out the window when an opportunity to be space opera presents itself.

And rightly so.

I suppose what annoys me is the people getting it wrong. Like, I’m not an expert, I’m an idiot. But people saying things like the above “They’re basically miniature mass relays”, a statement supported by exactly nothing and madness in the context of the game itself and physics in general, is grating. It’s like all those people who seem to assume that every space-based gun in the whole series starts at a base level of power as the main gun on a dreadnought.

No! They don’t! That’s why those ships are so powerful!

Fuckin’ Shepard is standing inside handshake distance of the Reaper on Rannoch when the fleet unloads and they aren’t burnt to a crisp – the guns aren’t that powerful!

Though I guess the Quarians might have been dialling it back on that one…

Point is! I’m right! And everyone else is wrong! And also annoying!

Fucking firing at nearly the speed of light, for fucks sake…

[eventhorizoninwriting]

Monumental Discoveries

Word Count: 1016

Tags: Charon/reader, Fallout 3

Warnings: Vertigo, heights, dizziness, near fall.

@whumperless-whump-event Prompt 3: Like A Record, Baby!

*Late to the party again, but I"m catching up!

Your ears began to pressurize as the elevator continued to climb. Facing the doors, the satellite dish held neatly in front of you, you didn’t bear witness to the ever-shrinking wasteland through the crumbling walls of the Washington Monument. It was a wonder the elevator was still in the shaft in one piece, nevermind fully functional, working, and clean. 

“They really did a decent job on this, huh?”

Charon glanced at you from the corner of his eye, nodding once without offering any comment. That had been his way, as long as you’d known him. You met him in Underworld just a month ago, just a building away from here by some kind of irony, where he’d been an enslaved guard at the Ninth Circle bar. The only way to free him from that abusive predicament had been to take on his contract yourself–but even after you handed him the paperwork, he’d silently stayed by your side, and woe be him if anything hurt you. 

Yet, he hardly ever spoke. You could count on both hands the number of sentences he’d uttered since you’d met. Hell, you could probably count on one. His first to you, telling you to take anything up with Azhrukal, his owner. Then the one where he acknowledged that you’d taken over his contract, and politely informed you that he needed to take care of one thing before leaving; then proceeded to blow Azhrukal’s head off with his combat shotgun. The only explanation for that was another single sentence to inform you that Azhrukal was an evil bastard. Since then, he’d proven to be a man of very, very few words–and so it was here, too. You knew he had no reason to like the Brotherhood of Steel, who flashed him nasty looks and threw insults–and who had been rumored to hunt ghouls for sport. But you’d always thrown insults back in his defense, knowing he wouldn’t say anything for himself to them…and besides, the elevator really was impressive in this day and age. 

It dinged, and the doors slid open. Charon followed you out, footsteps padding softly behind you like a large cat. It was a wonder he was so quiet with how tall he was. 

“Let’s see,” you murmured to yourself, looking over the relay console. “Looks like the wires go in here, and go up there…then hook in there, there, and right in the back.” 

“Hmm.” Charon leaned against a wall, watching you work. 

“If I deconstruct this, then attach this…shit, this would be easier with a solder gun,” you muttered, pulling the old wires out of the old, shot up dish, and twisting them into place on the new one. “But here we are. Aaaand…there.” 

Charon raised his eyebrow muscles when you stood, dragging the new dish over to the hole in the wall. Carefully climbing over the huge pieces of wiring that looped up onto the floor from the outside like great snakes, you balanced precariously, carefully hanging the new dish where the old one had been. When you slowly took your hands away, it stayed in place perfectly, as if it was always meant to be there. 

“Perfect!” 

That was when it clicked where you were. 

Looking down to your right, you saw the tiny wasteland before you. All the trenches and debris looked as small as post-meal crumb patterns on a table. Super mutants that towered over you, and even Charon, crawled about through it like miniature ants. Suddenly, you became very aware that it was a very, very long way down between you and the ground. Staring at the dirt down below, you also came to the realization of what exactly you’d risked by getting into a restored elevator in a half-crumbled many-stories-tall monument.

“Is the room spinning, or is it just me?” you said, half to yourself. Were you getting tunnel vision, or was the ground actually starting to get a little closer?

A strong arm slammed around your waist just as you began to fall over the edge of the wall. Charon carried you back to the relative safety of the solid concrete floor, slung over his arm like a temporarily unused jacket. He set you on your feet again, but the dizziness caught up, and you immediately stumbled into the wall. Bile crawled up your throat as your brain went fuzzy, and the world seemed to spin around you, even with your eyes shut.

“What is wrong with you?” he growled, eyes flitting over you. “You could have died.” 

All you could do was stare at him in shock. He’d just spoken to you for the first time in weeks–

“If you get dizzy at heights, it’s irresponsible to then do maintenance work at heights.”

“Hey,” you interrupted. Not that you wanted to–who knew if or when he’d speak again if you did. “I didn’t know. It’s not like I have a lot of climbing opportunities involving that kind of height.” 

He simply blinked his foggy eyes at you. “Doesn’t Rivet City have heights?”

“Well, yeah. But those are different. None of them are up as high as this.” 

“I see.” You couldn’t explain it, but something in his expression told you that he was filing this information away for later. “Can you walk now?”

“Maybe.” 

Pushing off the dirty floor, you tried to stand, but your brain decided that this was the optimal time to remind you of the scope of your current height despite not seeing the ground. Just the thought of the elevator, and how far of a drop it would be if those old cables snapped, was enough to give you jelly legs. You sank back down to the floor. “I guess not. At least not until I can stop thinking about heights.” 

In saying this, you’d been prepared to spend the night up here on the roof of the Washington Monument, listening to the newly-restored Galaxy News Radio and sleeping on the mattresses that lay over in the corner next to an emergency lamp. You were not expecting what happened next, when Charon simply scooped you up bridal-style, and began walking towards the elevator as if you weighed nothing. 

“Let’s go, then. Won’t get better by sitting up here.” 

[xiaoxiongmaos]

end (beginning?) of year appreciation post ♡

hello~ this is xixi (also @/choibeomggyu)!

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i had originally planned to make a year-end post for all my lovely friends/mutuals which then got dragged into the first week of 2023 on my bday ;;;;; but thank you so much to all the lovely people that have followed this quaint little blog of mine and supported my content throughout my time here on tumblr! i can’t believe it’ll be a whole 1460 days since i made this account later this year... feels like just yesterday i signed up and logged in for the first time ever hehe

it always brings a smile to my face seeing each and every single silly, cute, sweet, supportive tag under any of my gifs, graphics, fanart etc.! i really cannot emphasize enough how wonderful it is to see people like my work enough to reblog it, take time out of their day to gush about it in the tags or send me the occasional ask/dm complimenting any aspect of it (´,,•ω•,,)♡ i truly appreciate all of you.

with the new year finally here and all, i’m sure a lot of people have resolutions and expectations set for the next 365 days so just remember to take it easy⏤start small and that’ll eventually lead you to kick bigger goals out there! you’ll see that every micro-habit has a monumentous impact when you look back on your progress, so read even one paragraph daily or go to sleep 15 mins earlier than you usually would. after all, buildings don’t just appear out of nowhere, you have to stack each brick one by one c: just make sure to not overexert yourself!

thank you to everyone once again, i love looking at all of your beautiful creations on the dashboard and seeing you in my notifications, as well as interacting with you whenever the opportunity arises c:

⏤ ♡

@itshyuka ⏤ oh, where to start... i just really, really, really miss you. a ton. thank you so much for teaching me how to gif, i don’t know where i’d be (probably still getting confused looking at the layers panel dljkdjfjf) if it weren’t for you, lia ♡ late 2019-early 2020 was one of the toughest years of my life and i’ll forever be indebted and grateful to you for being there to cheer me up with your hyuka info dumps, our inspiring conversations and your lovely gifsets. whenever i feel down i go to your blog and feel refreshed just looking at it :D i owe all of my knowledge on ps, vs & anything to do with creating content to you, thank you for supporting me all the way back then to rooting for me even now, no matter how scarce our encounters have become. i hope life is treating you well, and that you become a well-loved and respected educator!

@choiyeonjuns ⏤ vivi! i have been trying to write this for about an hour now; writing, erasing then repeating multiple times⏤how to put everything into a miniature paragraph? words can never truly relay the amount of love i have for you and your blog, thank you for being my friend from day 1 on moablr and always supporting me. i love my little conversations with you whenever they sporadically happen, and i’m so glad we have so many common interests, enabling me to support your content across all of your blogs :3 i hope you get back all the love and support you gives others tenfold, and are always surrounded by happiness!

@go-saeng ⏤ i miss talking to you and seeing you on the dash a lot kashi ;;;;; meeting you was one of the highlights of my 2020-2021 and talking to you was always such a nice part of my day. i’m still blown away each time i see your gfx and gifs on the dashboard as well as am so proud of your gif growth. i also always go back to that runaway & minho + jeongin set you dedicated to me⏤considering all of the effort you put in to make something for myself makes me tear up sometimes... but when life’s rough, the very words you put under them comfort me beyond measure and i gain the strength to face whatever new challenge is thrown my way! hope that you are well and happy, may 2023 bring you loads of blessings!

@hoyounq ⏤ i’m not sure if you’ll see this but you introduced me to so many lovely people, filled my days with laughter and it’s been an absolute pleasure being mutuals with you, han (´｡• ω •｡`) talking to you and hanjess shenanigans on the timeline will forever be ingrained in my heart and i just want you to know that i really appreciate having you in my life! you’re truly the sunshine and rainbows in one’s life personified ♡

@hearttoshu ⏤ jess dearest! i really don’t know what to say dhfdjsd but i appreciate you so very much, always putting up with my incessant rambles about life, beomgyu, my favourite groups and everything in between! you’re such a sweet and perceptive person, always looking out for others and offering your support⏤i hope i can offer you the same. seeing you jaeyuning everywhere makes my heart warm and i’m so glad you got me more into to1 and verivery ♡ i love seeing your creations on the dashboard and in the tags, your sharpening is one of my absolute favourites because of how almost sparkly your gifs turn out to be... like rhinestones under the moonlight! hope you have a lovely year ahead c:

@ashisland ⏤ dear gabi: you’re so cute when you talk about your ults & i can’t help but get giddy whenever i read your tags, both under my posts and when you’re gushing over serim :D i’m so sorry for making you the target of all my non-sense, but i also will tell you that i can’t promise that it’ll cease, you’re the yeonjun to my beomgyu after all djfjddj i love your gifs so much and thank you for spending your precious time to make me stuff whenever you see me talk about it. hope lab gets easier to deal with for you this year and please know that you’re always doing a good job and worked hard⏤please take it easy on yourself, even by just a little!

@yeonjuins ⏤ woo! your talent never ceases to amaze me, from your well-crafted graphics to how you come up with new ways to bully heeseung sodkdkfj i know it’s not been long since we’ve started talking but you have quickly made your way into my list of friends and i love conversing with you ♡ i love your energy and end up feeling content after talking to you. here’s to another year of yeonjuins & your delightful creations on tumblr, as well as our friendship!

@digitalgirls ⏤ thank you so, so much for always supporting my work, jo! it’s lovely having you on the dash/timeline and i always get so inspired by your content, you’re definitely one of my (if not the most) coolest mutuals, the quality on your work and blog is insane :o i still feel so shy whenever i realize you follow me back and have been for a long while ^^; thank you for all of your hard work and i hope you have a wonderful 2023!

@song-mingi ⏤ my favourite atinytual and justbtual... thank you for single-handedly carrying both fandoms on your back and presenting us with all of your lovely content along with it! it’s super fun having you on the dashboard and i love interacting with you; you’re sunshine and rainbows personified too hehe how fitting for hanri! hope you have a lovely year ahead and that there’s loads more of irigifs to see ♡

@seunglixes ⏤ luna! i know it’s been a while but i love seeing your creations, and you, all the same! i don’t think i’ve met anyone who loves felix more than you yet⏤i hope that i can make you a bday present again this year and not miss the date as last year ;;;;; keep creating and loving felix in 2023 as well!

@ambivartence ⏤ thank you so much for always supporting the art i post siyuan! i love seeing your sweet tags under it and also your gifs + fanart on the dashboard! i appreciate the advice and love you’ve given me and my blog ♡ hope you get to expand your reach and develop your art style even more this year!

@limsejun​ sam my dear friend! i am so glad i had the fortune of meeting you, i really love all of your sets from both your kpop and kdrama blog; you motivated me to start a kdrama sideblog and i hope to engage with your content through it as well~ i’m still holding you to that promise of loving me forever for the sejun url djkafsjfk

@yjunies ⏤ your entire blog is just so pleasing to look at and every single thing you create is really pretty, ana ♡ i aspire to be able to make such beautiful content like yours one day; until then, i’ll simply ooh and aah at everything you put out u.u you’re such a sweet and kind person & i hope only good things come your way, always!

@yongseungkim ⏤ shine! i don’t know if you’ll be seeing this soon either but i love talking to you and hearing you go on about yongseung... thank you for pushing me to be more confident in myself and being my korean teacher (though it was short-lived haha); i hope 2023 treats you well! 

@leemarkies ⏤ marie my beloved! i am so glad i got paired with you for the secret santa event last year, as it did lead to us becoming friends. i love reading all your idiosyncratic tags and thank you for supporting my stray kids content since day one! i hope we can engage more this year and that you are surrounded by love & happiness in this one as well as the next ♡

[yourfellowhuman07]

Alliances of the Heart

A She-Ra: Princess of Power 2018 fanfiction

For centuries, the All Princess Ball has been a time for the nobility of Etheria to let loose. Flaunting their power, prestige, and fashion for all to see. The ball had always been politically neutral, but, as tension from the war rises, not everyone is so keen to forget what happens beyond the walls of Castle Chill.

Lord Hordak, along with Princess Scorpia and Force Captian Catra, have come to the party to make alliances and find out everything there is to know about their enemies. Careful to not arouse the suspicion of the Princess Alliance.

Princess Entrapta, being the scientist she is, decides to come to the party to decode the secrets of body language, despite getting the same data from every other party she has ever attended.

When the two rulers cross paths, their plans flip on their heads as the two grow closer. Now it is up to Catra and Scorpia to push the two together as Adora and Glimmer stick their noses where they do not belong.

________________

Hello fellow humans. My new fic is finally here, and I hope you enjoy it. Like my other fic, this will gain new chapters weekly on Wednesday and be posted on AO3 on Thursdays. Btw, the fic will be only available to registered users on AO3 due to the whole AI situation. Thank you for reading!

Also, I'm aware @kuurankaiho has a fic similar to this, but I promise they are very different stories (kuura if you're reading this I love your work).

________________

Chapter 1: Fashionably Late

Lord Hordak stood at the front of his ship, the hull cutting through the icy waters; Castle Chill appeared on the horizon. Hordak took a deep breath, he did not want to go to this frivolous, flowery party, but it would be necessary for the cause of the war. It is the perfect time to identify exploitable weaknesses and find people willing to form alliances. Princess Scorpia and Force Captain Catra were also accompanying him, Hordak was less than enthusiastic about their presence, but he could deal with it for now. He needs to mentally prepare himself for the hellscape he was already late for.

___________________________

Princess Entrapta sat in the rafters of the ballroom; her eyes zipped from person to person, trying to decode the secrets of body language. While she was supposed to interact personally with the other partygoers, this was more practical and scientifically sound. Even if she did try to “mingle” with the rest of the nobles, it wouldn’t do much good. Most of the time, when Entrapta talks to anyone, they either don’t care or just get up and walk away. Like a good scientist, Entrapta attempts to collect data on social behaviors to better communicate with others. 

She was also trying to avoid anyone from the Princess Alliance. Ever since the Alliance reformed, they have begged Entrapta to join. Right now, she had no intention of joining the princesses, who were elitists who only focused on their capital cities rather than their nation as a whole. By siding with them, she would also be seen as an elitist, completely going against Drylian views of politics.

Entrapta watched as people began to spin around with each other, somehow being able to gauge the next move of everyone around them,  fascinating. She then observed the people around the snack area who only took one miniature snack at a time almost like taking more would be disgraceful, odd. She then saw various couples hidden away in corners smashing their faces together disregarding everyone around them. This is especially confusing when Entrapta had always been told by adults and colleagues to ALWAYS be aware of everyone around her. People are such a hypocritical mystery.

She relayed all this information to her recorder, one of the few things she could talk to. She sighed, bored already after 45 minutes, and to think this was a week-long event. She wished she was home in her lab discovering something new instead of observing the same things she had seen at every party. They were all the same, the dancing, the food, everything. If only something interesting would happen then maybe this week won’t be such a waste.

Just then, the ballroom door opened to reveal three dark figures. Entrapta recognized one immediately as Lord Hordak, ruler of the Scorponi Kingdom. He was tall, to say the least, eight feet if her estimation was correct. His hair was curly and deep indigo, the sides were braided and tied into an elegant ponytail. He wore a white button-up shirt and black pants topped with a black cape that looked like the flags used by the Horde when they claimed new territory. Behind him were two women, one Entrapta recognized as Princess Scorpia, the last living relative of the former royal Scorponi family. The other woman was some cat girl, most likely a plus one.

Even with her limited understanding of social graces, Entrapta knew it was bold of the Lord to come to this event. The man has more enemies than anyone could count and statistically, the chance of assassination is sky-high.

Now this will be fun!

_____________________________________________________

Hordak walked across the ballroom, all too aware of the terrified and disgusted whispers from the crowd. He reveled in them actually, as many say fear equals power.

The three made their way to Princess Frosta of the Kingdom of Snows. The three bowed just as they practiced.

“Lord Hordak, Princess Scorpia while I am glad you two have come I must say I am surprised to see you two,” said Frosta with her air of regality.

“You will find I am full of surprises, and thank you for your invite, Revered Hostess,” Hordak retorted.

Before the three could join the crowd they were stopped by Adora, or as most know her She-Ra.

“Revered Hostess, excuse me but you can not seriously let these people in this party. They’re part of the Horde.”

“Princess Adora, silence. This has been a politically neutral party for centuries, don’t go against prom policy. While you see me as a child I have worked hard for the respect I have gained, and the traditions of this party, like I, will not be disrespected.”

“Oh Adora, I didn’t think you were the type to disrespect the rules.” Catra put her hand on her heart and batted her eyelashes that hid the snide glimmer in her eyes.

Before Adora could say anything else she was dragged away by who Hordak recognized as Princess Glimmer of Brightmoon.

“My apologies Lord Hordak, some individuals can’t put their grievances aside for a few nights.”

“I take no offense Princess Frosta, people have said worse to me.”

“Enjoy the party.”

As the three turned on their heels to join the crowd Hordak then took the two women by the shoulder.

“Now you both know your jobs: find out as much about our enemies

 as you can and do not attract any suspicion, we already have someone down our back.” The three broke away from each other to mingle. 

__________________________________

Half an hour ticked by and Hordak only discovered trivial things about people from listening in on their conversation, nothing useful at all.

Hordak took a glass of wine off of a table and moved to the outskirts of the crowd. He spotted Scorpia by the snack table helping herself to all the tiny treats. Then he spotted Catra on the upper level talking to Adora. Hordak groaned internally, what part of not incriminating yourself to those who are suspicious of you does she not understand? Whatever, maybe after she talks with Adora, Catra’s obsession with her will subside. Then a thought popped into his head, maybe it is a good thing she was with her. If Catra were to distract her Scorpia would have more room to work. Not bad Force Captian, not bad at all.

Hordak then looked up to see a small figure sitting in the rafters. At first, he thought it was some assassin or thief using the chaos of the party to distract the guards. Then he saw how the figure’s hair was a long lavender color that bent to the will of its owner and identified the figure as Princess Entrapta of Dryl, or, as others call her, the hermit princess. She sat up there, eyes darting across the ballroom talking into a small metal box. Then a thought struck him: what if I engaged in a political alliance with her? It certainly wasn’t a bad idea, both kingdoms have similar political structures, and her supposed prowess with tech was nothing to sneeze at. Hordak also secretly wanted an excuse to leave the party so he might as well talk to her now.

As a slow dance began Hordak made his way to the upper level of the ballroom, using the darker parts of the room to climb his way up to the rafters. Carefully, he made his way over to the princess and sat behind her. He didn’t know how to get her attention so all he could do was tap her on the shoulder. In doing this, the princess yelped causing Hordak to almost fall to the ground.

“Oh, Lord Hordak, did you need something?”

Hordak straightened his cape, regaining his dismissive calmness.

“I only wished to make you an offer.”

“Oh?”

“I would like to formally ask you if you would be willing to make a political alliance between Scorponi and Dryl. Both of our kingdoms are constitutional monarchies as well as more tech than magic-based; furthermore, I believe combining forces will give the Scorponi kingdom an edge in the war and your kingdom protection from the Alliance.”

Entrapta paused to consider this, aligning with the Scorponi Kingdom was not a bad idea. For one, the other princesses will stop bothering her and the tech they have is amazing. Oh, the tech! Entrapta had gotten her hands on some of the technology from the Fright Zone and it was magnificent. How all the machines’ inner hardware was so organized and the efficiency of their programming and their powerful, tanky designs.

“I’m in!” Entrapta thrust forward a hand-shaped piece of hair which Hordak took in his hand, sealing the deal.

“Excellent, once this party is over I will draft a treaty and send it to Dryl for you to sign.”

“Or” she scooted closer, “ I could come to the Fright Zone and sign it there because I’ve been wanting to speak with the person who designs all of the Horde’s tech. I’ve gotten my hands on a few specimens and I loved the simplistic efficiency of them and how only a few could level an entire village, it’s so fascinating!”

Hordak felt like his body had been split into a million pieces. Sure his work had been complimented before but never like that by a like-minded individual.

“I am the one who designs all the tech within my kingdom.” Hordak scooted closer to her.

“Oh my moons, really!” she scooted even closer, “Wow I didn’t realize you were the one who designed everything, but you have to show me everything you’ve done. Also, imagine what combining your tech and the first ones' tech could do!”

“First ones’ tech?”

“You know, the tech left behind by the first civilization of this planet that makes what we do child play.”

Child play indeed, while Hordak forsook the wider universe as well as his father's empire he still wished he could have access to the tech he had before. As for the first ones’, they were most likely the Eternians who originally colonized Etheria before it blipped out of existence.

“Perhaps when you visit the Fright Zone you could tell me about this first ones’ tech.” Hordak scooted close enough that both their thighs were lightly touching.

“Oh sure that sounds great!”

“Thank you for your time, princess.” Hordak stood, gave her a bow, and left as soon as he arrived.

Once he made contact with the ground he went to check on Catra and Scorpia who were congregating at the chocolate fountain.

“Have you two been able to find anything out?”

“Nothing useful, that's for sure,” Catra’s face then twisted into a smirk, “What were you doing with that princess up there.”

“I was able to ally with her to strengthen both of our kingdoms. Once this party is over she will visit the Fright Zone and sign a treaty making it official, so do not under any circumstances give her a reason to reconsider.” Hordak then turned on his heel leaving the two women once again.

“Twenty ration bars says those two get together.”

“You sure about that?”

“Let's just say those two were sitting way too close to call that a political agreement.”

Catra then spotted the elusive princess descending from her perch to another snack table.

“Let’s go talk to her.”

[albertbutyoucancallmebert]

@janitorlarry7

(prev) "Nice." Larry said as he grabbed a paper cup and began pouring some water in it from the dispenser. As he was doing that, he immediately took notice of the RC spaceship and what seemed to be a mini plush that looked like Bert tied on top of it. Larry couldn't help but giggle at the sight of Sherris gifts. Once it came to a hault, he stopped pouring water in his cup and crouched down to inspect the RC spaceship and the miniature Bert with the cup in hand. "Hehe..How cute! Is that supposed to be a mini you?" He turned over to Bert.

Bert beamed as he explained, “Yep! My good friend Teddy made it for her! He has a talent for sewing.”

His smile then fell a little bit as it took on a melancholic undertone. He dearly wished Teddy was able to visit today. And the reason why he couldn’t was cause for so much unease.

To distract himself, Bert perked back up and pointed at his assistant. “Moe built the RC spaceship himself! He has a talent for messing with vehicles, big and small.”

Moe grinned and gave a humble, dismissive hand wave.

In the meantime, Sherri Jr had waddled back over toward Larry. Wrapped in her tail was something that looked kind of like a calculator but with a lot more buttons. She set the device down in front of herself and tapped away at the buttons with her claws. Soon, an electronic voice rang out from it. “Hello Larry. I can talk now,” it relayed. 

“Oh yes,” Bert nodded, “and I made Sherri her own dedicated little text to speech device, designed specially for her.”

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Very occ for Nessie, but I want to give her a revenge arc. Do you think that she'd ever be able to pin Jacob against the Cullen's in a vamp vs wolf war? Either Nes gets some revenge against her parents for their neglect, score, or her groomer gets killed alongside the people who supported his actions, which also score. Bonus points that she could just fake her death and the sides will blame eachother. Again, occ, but I want her to grow into a bitter person towards the life she was sealed into

I mean, as always, I must suggest that you can write the fic. Options exist, you can have your revenge fantasy and the internet will love you for it! No need to come to me.

A Caveat on Renesmee

@therealvinelle and I have a very specific interpretation of Renesmee that honestly isn't that likely when it comes to canon. Renesmee's going to have a very strange childhood, which is going to manifest in some very odd behaviors/world views, but closer to the mark is probably @franzias-cave in Just World Fallacy where Renesmee is a miniature Edward and Bella manifested in someone hilariously myopic, self-centered, and stupid.

Ultimately, though, in canon we only see Renesmee for three months and Bella pays almost 0 attention to her as our narrator. Renesmee can grow up to be almost anything and while I have my thoughts, theories, and justifications it's one of those where you can pretty much do whatever you want and you're not wrong.

Basically, you can't raise the OOC flag when Renesmee is "Sir Not Appearing in this Film".

Could Renesmee Get the Cullens and Jacob to Turn on Each Other?

Easily.

I posit she'd do so entirely unintentionally.

All she needs to do is either a) fess up what's happening with Jacob to the right person (or even the wrong person) or b) accidentally show what's happening with Jacob or c) Jacob fucks up.

I don't think all the Cullens are entirely on board with the imprinting thing, they've just been assured that it's platonic and trust Edward (the last person anyone should trust). Edward, with his gift, of all people would know what Jacob's secretly thinking in any given moment and if it's grooming. Surely, if Edward's okay with this, then it must be okay!

That alone means we have a ticking time clock of the moment Renesmee turns seven and Jacob goes, "ah, so we can be sexually active now!" Shit will hit the fan at that point.

If not before as my money is that when the Cullens next move, most of them assume Jacob isn't coming and will be very surprised and alarmed when he suddenly invites himself along.

But even backing up a bit, that means that the moment it's confirmed to one of them that this is grooming after all...

Oh boy.

First, the immediately will want to get rid of Jacob. Jacob, obviously, isn't going to like that and has in the past gone so far as to risk innocent bystander lives to see that this wouldn't happen (his sending Charlie to Bella so they wouldn't move without him). Jacob will flip shit, and from canon he can get... how do I put this scary when doing that.

Then we have the fact that if Jacob is guilty after all, why did Edward and Bella never say anything? The likelihood that Edward was fooled, that he didn't know, is very very very small and demands a lot of generosity on the part of the other Cullens. It's technically possible. Jacob could have blocked Edward at every opportune moment, always made sure he and Renesmee were out of earshot, coached Renesmee on exactly what to say and what memories to relay or not relay but...

Edward alone is looking extremely guilty.

Then you get to Bella, beautiful Bella, who will shout from the mountaintops that there's nothing wrong with imprinting and Jacob and her daughter were made for each other. Bella's going to straight up confess that she sold her daughter as a war bride to her best friend at birth and be offended that the other Cullens are offended.

So, you're immediately going to have a division in the ranks where you have Rosalie and Carlisle on one side (the others depend on circumstances but are either on board or neutral) and Bella, Jacob, and Edward on the other (though with Edward he'll want a careful balancing act where he can keep his family and keep Jacob! If push comes to shove, he'll try to keep the family which will pit him against a horrified Bella).

Could result in @therealvinelle's Bleach on the Brain and our joint Leech on the Rain or something else entirely.

And all Renesmee needs to do is let a few things... slip, and her family will implode.

What About the Wolves?

Probably no wolf-Cullen war.

Sam's pretty levelheaded and I see him not wanting to get involved in this madness. Jacob is asking for them to sacrifice their numbers so he can be a pedophile to a half-vampire hybrid. At least one of them is likely to die in this fight, if not all of them if Jasper uses his gift effectively, and Jacob doesn't give a flying fuck and expects them to back him up for this cause which is heinous.

Because of this, I imagine Jacob would immediately lose his pack to Sam and Sam says "no".

Jake's on his own for this one (and will rage against it and claim a great betrayal from those who should have supported him).

Is Bitterness Really the Outcome We Want for Renesmee?

The thing is, in all of these scenarios, Renesmee ends up with nothing. Even if she wanted to tear her family apart, remove Jacob if not murder him, what she's left with is absolutely nothing except her own bitterness and rage.

She has no family, no future, no companionship, no trust in the world or anyone else, just rage and this torn apart family behind her. She has nothing now.

Frankly, to me that sounds like the most miserable ending imaginable for her.

[winxbutbetterimo-ovo]

Selkies

For each planet connected with the Magic Dimension, it has a Selkie that guards the portals connecting it to Andros. They are known as the gatekeepers. They have the ability to open or close the portals, and there is one gatekeeper for each world with the special symbols on their foreheads. They also have the natural ability to communicate with underwater creatures. They all mainly stay on the andros side.

Along with the gatekeepers (Selkies that have ability to open ocean gates) and Guardian Selkies (Selkies that guard the pillars in the Infinite Ocean), there are still many normal Selkies with unknown power.

The Selkies of the Oceans are miniature wingless mermaids with brightly coloured skin. Male selkies have their torso uncovered by scales. Eventually Tritannus absorbed the powers of all the Selkies that guard an ocean portal, granting him access to the Infinite Ocean, without sirenix.

A new fact that was only revealed in season 5 when roxy meets Phylla, is that when gatekeeper selkies lose their powers, they can bond with ANYONE from the planet of which they protect the gate. (the winx r not special) they relay this information to the rest of the planets during the soverign's council, and other than that, the winx bond with their own selkies only because they have a literal mission in the oceans so they see the selkies before anyone else. in the other planets, they just send someone down to bond and heal their selkie.