#number 26 descendants

[beuxwhoyouare]

Imprisoned

Griffin Anders sat in the cold, sterile cell, his mind still obsessing with the thoughts of the broken system that had brought him here. The hum of the technologically advanced rehabilitation system echoed through the prison, a constant reminder of the tech he had once believed in. Griffin, a once promising prodigy, had dedicated his life to developing a company creating advanced VR systems, only to find himself wrongfully framed and trapped in a program using the very technology he had helped create. His former business partner stole the technology and sold it to for-profit systems, but not before framing Griffin for embezzlement.

Today was different, though. Today, as Griffin was being escorted by guards to the VR chamber where he would undergo another session designed to "reform" his behavior, he felt like maybe this could be a good day. Griffin knew better than to trust the system, but he played along, hoping to find a way to prove his innocence.

The Better Days Protocol was meant for entertainment at first, but Griffin's former partner whored it out and sold it to anyone to help them fulfill their demented dreams. A life-like VR experience created a sandbox for users to create their wildest fantasies. The prison system capitalized on it and used to help reform prisoners to get ready for the real world...assuming they were ever released.

Per his charges, Griffin was in the financial crimes reform group. Since these criminals weren't violent offenders, it was one of the few that civilian volunteers could take part in. Icarus University was known for their Football program but often a few troublemakers made their way on the team and instead of getting arrested for DUI's and other petty crimes, the team bartered a deal to get their athletes volunteering at the jail. It's like scared straight except to many athletes it was just seen as a nuisance.

As the VR headset descended over his eyes, Griffin took a deep breath and prepared for the simulation. The world around him dissolved into a digital landscape, a meticulously crafted environment meant to challenge and change him.

Griffin was doing virtual shopkeeping. He had to be a VR cashier for a certain amount of hours to knock time off his sentence, that's when Icarus U's star running back Emmanuel walked in. Not only was Emmanuel the teams shining star, he was the son of his former partner.

Opportunity fell into the geniuses lap and he was shocked in the moment. He knew he couldn't let this moment pass him. He stopped Emmanuel for small talk, aiming to learn more.

"So what brings you to the shop dude?" Griffin tried to play off as if he wasn't analyzing the spawn of his mortal enemy.

"Uh I don't know what to say. I'm just here to finish my hours dude. Can you just pretend to scan this and I can go." the towering athlete snarked back.

"Well how many hours do you have left? The simulation only lets you do 4 hour increments." the scientist said knowing that would shock Emmanuel.

"Bro what? I have like 26 hours?! I thought I could just do like 3 long days? That's going to take me like weeks."

Clearly numbers weren't Emmanuel's strength, Griffin thought to himself. But now he knew he had some time to work on his plan. He dismissed the young man as he quickly devised the next steps.

The Better Days Protocol was Griffin's baby and he knew it like the back of his palm. He began working on code in his head that he would go in and tweak every time he was inside, in anticipation for the next time Emmanuel walked in.

Days passed before thee day arrived. Emmanuel giddily walked into the virtual shop. He told the shopkeeper that today was finally going to be his last working in the simulation. If he only knew. Griffin sold him the virtual drink he asked to purchase but with a special twist. As he clicked it open and fake guzzled down the drink it hopefully worked as Griffin hoped. The tech wiz knew he was good at programming but was he good enough to stage my escape? We're about to find out.

The prisoner shift was ending before Emmanuel's log out which was the only way this would have worked. Griffin's log out screen popped up and began glitching...this is it....rerouting his exit port Griffin slammed the log out button and held his eyes shut eager but wary to have his new truth confirmed by his eyes.

He began to lift the VR headset from his head. As he looked down, he found himself in an unfamiliar body, surrounded by the bustling energy of a college campus. He looked down at his hands, now darker, strong and athletic. He realized he was no longer in his own body. The former white aging programming engineer gamed the system to exit the Better Days Protocol in a different host body. It was the perfect karma to get back at his former business partner.

Griffin revelled at the many ways he could potentially get back at his partner. Could he frame his now father? Could he just pretend to be Emmanuel and that be satisfaction enough knowing he had robbed him of the son he loved and raised? As he continued thinking about ways to extract revenge he walked out of the room he was in to realize he was in the IU locker room. A mirror awaited his new reflection in front of him. So many thoughts ran through the nerds head but his giddiness fueled him to begin stripping regardless of who was nearby.

Peeling off the t-shirt, Griffin revealed an insanely muscled torso. If he wasn't driving the ship, he would have thought this physique was only achievable through balloons. Everything looked so inflated he had never been so close to so much muscle he kept poking and prodding each of the new muscles gracing his frame. This went from soft when relaxed to hard as stone when he braced.

The virility of his new body felt overwhelming. He just wanted to rub one out or also rub every single muscle as he explored this massive new body. Jesus everything's big he realized as he kept stripping, before realizing he was in a semi-public place still. He gathered his clothes and put them on, deciding against putting his shirt back on as he riffled through his new wallet searching for his home address.

Emmanuel spent his days reading and coding through all nighters for years. This was the complete opposite of his life experience. Someone who spent nearly every waking hour working out in a gym, doing drills, eating pounds and pounds of protein.

Griffin fumbled into the house that opened with his new keys as he began taking off his clothes once again.

A mirror in one bedroom helped him capture just how commanding his new physique really was. Griffin decided he had waited long enough and took off the tiny underwear hiding his new python....He could feel the blood rushing to it and needed to know just how it felt to take hold.

"Je-sus Unhh." he gasped as he quickly grunted and took both hands rocking his hips back and forth. In his previous life this would have been a quick and relatively demure affair, but not in this body. He lost track of time as he just kept pumping and pumping. The endurance he now possessed felt almost...selfish to not share. Instead of finishing, he downloaded an app and began his hunt to find the nearest twink to share his new gifts with...for science of course.

[myfictionaldreams]

Day 26: Overstimulation - Steve Rogers

Summary: It's the 1940's, and you're a dancer on the infamous USO tour showcasing Captain America. You're due on stage in 5 minutes, but Steve's too busy with his face between your legs.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, begging, exhaustion, innocent!Steve (kinda)

masterlist 📚 

kinktober masterlist😈 

AO3 Link 

“We’re on in 5 minutes! I repeat, 5 minutes. Did you hear Mr Rogers?”

“Hmm? Yeah, 5 minutes, I heard!” Steve’s head perked up from between your legs, wetness coating his lips and chin as he shouted through the door to the stage hand.

Your body collapsed onto the desk, completely worn out. Eyes heavy, struggling to stay open, and lungs burning with how out of breath you were. “Please, I need to go and get ready; the girls will wonder where I am”.

Steve licked his lips and began to spread your thighs again, his hold hard enough to leave bruises behind as you sighed heavily, head falling back against the mirror. “Just one more; I know you can do it, then you’ll feel much better when you’re dancing baby”. His face descended to your cunt, tongue lapping at your already sensitive hole, his nose pushing and stroking against your engorged clit.

Steve had been at it for what felt like hours. You were one of the dancers on his USO tour across America, dancing and singing every night in a new city to sold-out crowds. You watched as the infamous Steve Rogers sold the bonds and punched fake Adolf Hilter in the face for the crowd's entertainment.

The tour had been going on for weeks as the war ravaged worldwide. Steve had kept to himself, appearing to be scared of any female that walked past him, let alone any of the dancers or singers on stage, even though he had hundreds of women ready to throw themselves at him.

You felt bad for him, the big superstar who sat lonely in his room every night, so you worked up the nerve to speak to him one day. He was sweet, attentive, and very innocent, and you quickly drew him out of his comfort zone. A few kisses and cuddles turned into more risque. He was a virgin when you first met him, and you were completely respectful of that, but after a few awkward fumbling, you decided to take charge and show him how to move, touch and feel, pleasuring both him and you.

The first time Steve made you cum, it was like a light bulb switched in his brain. He was obsessed. The more you taught him about your body, the more he would want to hear your sweet melodic sighs of euphoria, to the point that it was starting to interfere with your work.

Which brings you to today. You’d visited him in his little dressing room at the back of the theatre, intending to get his lunch and ended with your panties on the floor and skirt bunched around the waist and legs over his shoulders as he ate you out to perfection. Every suck and lick had your back bowing and fingers trembling to cover your mouth to stop those outside the door from hearing your multiple orgasms.

Your entire body felt like it was burning from the inside out. You were stuck between being wholly exhausted and wanting the moment never to end. Due to past experiences, you knew that Steve’s stamina was devastatingly good due to the super serum. Once, you’d fucked all night, and you couldn’t walk the following day and had to call in sick to the show, which Steve was pink-cheeked and apologetic for, forgetting just how fragile you were compared to him.

You were getting close to that point again, attempting to push against his shoulders weakly, knowing you should stop but not wanting him to because you were so close to your next orgasm. You weren’t sure how many you’d had; all you were aware of was that your pussy was plump from all the stimulation, your clit was throbbing to the point that Steve could feel your heartbeat against his tongue, and your hole ached from the number of times it had clenched and tightened.

“Just one more”, Steve had repeated so many times that you could hear him saying it in your lucid mind. Slumping back against the mirror, the pleasure built, his tongue lapping your juices and stroking your clit, plunging and twitching in your pussy as he held you down on his desk.

The waves of the orgasms throbbed through your entire body, your hands pulling at his hair to move him away from your pussy as you sat up, losing control for a second as your body tried to process the euphoria.

“You’re so beautiful, Doll. You’ve done so well for me”, Steve encouraged, his hands massaging your aching thighs as you tried to catch your breath. As the pulses in your cunt calmed, you leaned forward until your head rested against his shoulder, his arms moving around your hips as he cradled you close.

“I might need to cancel the show”, you say, trying to wiggle your toes but finding your limbs were slow in response.

Steve moved back slightly to look at your flushed face, “You know you can’t do that, Baby. You’re on your last warning. Sorry, I’ll try to stop doing this before shows; sometimes I just can’t help myself.”. He pecks your lips softly, and you lean into the touch and try to slow your breathing to calm your body.

A knock at the door disrupts the embrace, “We need you at the stage door in 1 minute!” The stagehand shouts through the door, and you refrain from groaning.

“Could you help me get dressed, please?”

“Of course!” Steve was as sweet as ever, finding your panties and shorts for your costume and helping to pull them back onto your trembling legs. When you tried to stand and straighten your skirt and top, your knees buckled, but thankfully, he caught you, holding you for a couple of seconds until you found your strength.

Looking in the mirror, you tried not to cringe at the streaks you’d left behind on the surface, and then there was your appearance, completely glazed-over expression, and hair a mess, but you didn’t have time to sort either. Rushing to the door, you cringed internally and how sensitive you felt between your legs and how uncomfortable it was to walk with your pussy slightly swollen.

Steve was behind you, opening the door to allow you to step out and rush to the curtain. Making sure no one else was around, you turned and leaned up to kiss him sweetly, “Break a leg.” you wished him luck before running to join the others, who all gave you exacerbated looks for nearly being late.

The show was nearly a disaster; your legs became heavy halfway through from exhaustion, but thankfully, Steve caught you, somehow managing to play it off as part of the play, catching the damsel before continuing with the show.

Your entire body was warm to the touch, and the bright overhead lights only worsened it. As you danced across the stage, you became increasingly more aware that your panties were drenched, your pussy still flowing with juices, to the point that you were worried it had leaked through your shorts for the audience to see.

By the end, your cheeks ached from fake smiling, and the muscles in your legs were burning to the point that you collapsed on the stairs as you exited the stage. You were exhausted, eyes hardly open as one of the girls asked if you were okay.

“Sweetheart? Are you coming down with something?” the show manager asked, but you waved everyone away.

“I’m fine; I just need to sleep”, you explained whilst thanking one of the other girls who had returned with a glass of water.

“What’s going on? Hey, are you okay?” Steve asked, pushing his way through the crowd. Your body heated even more as Steve’s eyes widened briefly before he tried to mask his reaction. It was evident in your contract that you were not allowed to form intimate relationships with the show's star, which of course was Steve, so whatever it was that you had with Steve had to stay hidden, even though you were sure everyone suspected it.

“Everything’s fine, Mr Rogers, she’s just cooling off”, the manager attempted to move his prize possession away, not wanting him to worry about any of the girls and push him back to his awaiting taxi.

“She doesn’t look fine; why don’t I take her to a doctor?” Steve suggested, lowering himself so that you were both eye to eye.

“She doesn’t need a doctor; she’s fine, aren’t you, sweetheart?” the manager tried to reassure, but you were too tired even to respond.

“Ok, let me rephrase this, I’m going to take her to a Doctor, now move out of my way”, Steve demanded, actually standing up to the manager for once as he slid one arm under your knee and the other supporting your back as he lifted you, your head rolling onto his shoulder.

You relaxed into the hold, the sway of it helping to lull you into a half-asleep state. Only when the two of you were alone in the taxi did you decide to speak finally. “I don’t need a doctor, I just need to sleep”.

“I know, baby. I just wanted to get you away from everyone. I’m sorry for going so hard earlier, and I’ll try and calm it down from now on”, Steve apologised, holding your body close to his as the taxi began to move towards the motel you were all staying at.

You grinned, tilting your face towards his, “I didn’t say you had to stop, Steve”.

His eyes flicked between your lips and eyes, a small smile forming on his handsome face. Giving you a quick kiss on your temple, the two of you relaxed into the embrace as you quietly fell asleep.

[shadowxamyweek]

Where Does the Headcanon That Silver Is Shadow and Amy’s Kid Come From?

Much like Shadow calling Amy, 'Rose,' Silver being Shadow and Amy's kid is everywhere. If nothing else, he's often relegated to a distant descendant. When did we all agree though that this was just kinda a thing? To answer that, we're going to have to back up to Dragon Ball.

Sega has never hidden its love of Dragon Ball. Much of what is now Sonic Canon just started out as Sega artists and game designers delighting in some of the cool stuff Dragon Ball does, including but not limited to how the 7 chaos emeralds parallel the 7 dragon balls, and how Sonic's super form mirrors Goku's. This is important to keep in mind because there's another set of parallels that are being drawn when the, 'Silver is Shadow and Amy's kid,' headcanon comes into play. In Dragon Ball, there's an villain turned anti-hero/secondary protagonist called Vegeta and a very bubbly, very domineering woman named Bulma. The two get together and have a kid, named Trunks. Trunks ends up time traveling, specifically going back in time to prevent certain tragedies from happening. Aaaaand then once again, in Sonic, we have Shadow, being a villain turned anti-hero/secondary protagonist, and Amy, being a bubbly and domineering girl. We've also got Silver, who ends up time traveling, specifically going back in time to prevent certain tragedies from happening. *gestures loosely* People on Sega's payroll have noticed the parallels and commented on them as well. In 2008, on his Bumble King website, Ian Flynn answered some fan questions about the subject:

Later, in 2023, Flynn and his cohost Crouse over on the @bumblekast answered a question about this again:

(It's at 1:26:13, just in case I messed up the link) ---- TRANSCRIPT Crouse: Right, here's another question. This one is from ChaosSonic1. "This might kill this headcanon for others, but it always bugs me: people constantly consider Shadow and Amy as Silver's parents but that would be impossible due to two things. One, Shadow was in prison for 200 years. Thoughts?" ...That's only one thing but okay. [Laughter] Flynn: It is something that's come up because there were a lot of weird parallels, number one that silver was, you know, decidedly based on Trunks and I think it's quite obvious that Shadow is the kind of Vegeta of this group. It makes Amy default to the Bulma, which isn't really solid. I mean, if anything, Tails is the Bulma of the group, but you know there are no solid one to ones throughout the whole thing. You started trying to get too specific with it and falls apart. There was other stuff like-... something in Sonic and the Black Knight-... Amy was Nimune and Shadow was Lancelot and Silver was-... Galahad... Point being, within Autherial 1:27:40 within Arthurian, lore Silver's character was the child of Shadow and Amy's characters, which kind of made everyone go, 'beg pardon?' (Brief pause, this is slightly incorrect. Nimune is both the singular and plural name for water nymphs, one, or all of which, raised Lancelot. Galahad is *only* Lance's child. Again, like Dragon Ball, not a one to one, but enough to cock an eyebrow.) Flynn: There's also like the kind of vague mysticism around Amy and the fact that Silver can do Chaos Control so it's like, did he inherit Shadow's Chaos Control and his psychic powers from Amy? And it's all like extremely loose vague breadcrumbs that don't really so much make a line as they just are kind of scattered in the water for the ducks to eat so no, it doesn't really make any sense because like you said, in that timeline, Shadow was sealed away for like the duration and it's still 200 years. I don't think Amy was, you know, secretly carrying Shadow's love baby that long. That doesn't add up...- I mean, who knows. I mean, if that is your headcanon, if that's your ship, if that's how you want to connect the dots, go nuts. I'm not going to shoot it down.

Crouse: But there's also the whole thing, like time travel is a thing.

Flynn: Yeah.

Crouse: A lot of other things are things that could happen, like- [Laugh].

Flynn: And Amy's associated with Little Planet a lot, I get it, you can- you could put the pieces together that way if you wanted. I just don't think that's what Sega's doing with it.

Crouse: Well, no, but you know, who cares what Sega's doing except you I guess. You have to. Flynn: I do. It's part of my job.

Crouse: You have to care, but the rest of us now, we don't have to. Screw whatever Sega's doing, we can do whatever we want. My headcanon.

---- (This evidence I have to thank @shadamyheadcanons for. I remembered reading this ages ago, but couldn't remember *where*. She also provided the Bumblekast interview. ) I'm also going to point out, as many have before, that Sonic plays loose and fast with what Chaos Energy/Magic/Science/Whatever can and cannot do, including but not limited to time stuff as evidence in Sonic 06, where Silver debuted. I've also talked before that just because we see a future based off of the current events and trajectory of those events in 06, that does not mean that said-future is set in stone, and may very well change if the characters themselves make different decisions.

And that's *only* arguments for the headcanon that Silver is, in fact, their child. That doesn't include just how much more liberty there is in the headcanon that Silver is some distant relative, who's bloodline is intrinsically tied to Shadow and Amy. So yeah! That's where the headcanon comes from! It's moments like these that I can appreciate the lack of details in Sonic. That's not a thing I say very often, but in situations like these, it really allows for an open imagination of the different parts and pieces, and how they all fit together. Sonic is fun like that, and I love it for this reason <3

[walkswithmyfather]

Numbers 13:25-33 (NLT). [25] “After exploring the land for forty days, the men returned [26] to Moses, Aaron, and the whole community of Israel at Kadesh in the wilderness of Paran. They reported to the whole community what they had seen and showed them the fruit they had taken from the land. [27] This was their report to Moses: “We entered the land you sent us to explore, and it is indeed a bountiful country—a land flowing with milk and honey. Here is the kind of fruit it produces. [28] But the people living there are powerful, and their towns are large and fortified. We even saw giants there, the descendants of Anak! [29] The Amalekites live in the Negev, and the Hittites, Jebusites, and Amorites live in the hill country. The Canaanites live along the coast of the Mediterranean Sea and along the Jordan Valley.” [30] But Caleb tried to quiet the people as they stood before Moses. “Let’s go at once to take the land,” he said. “We can certainly conquer it!” [31] But the other men who had explored the land with him disagreed. “We can’t go up against them! They are stronger than we are!” [32] So they spread this bad report about the land among the Israelites: “The land we traveled through and explored will devour anyone who goes to live there. All the people we saw were huge. [33] We even saw giants there, the descendants of Anak. Next to them we felt like grasshoppers, and that’s what they thought, too!”

Numbers 14:1-10 (FBV). [1] “Then everybody there cried out loud all night. [2] All the Israelites went and complained to Moses and Aaron, telling them, “If only we'd died in Egypt, or here in this desert! [3] Why is the Lord taking us to this country only to get us killed? Our wives and children will be captured and taken away as slaves! Wouldn't we be better off going back to Egypt?” [4] They said to one another, “Let's choose a new leader and go back to Egypt.” [5] Moses and Aaron fell facedown on the ground in front of all the assembled Israelites. [6] Joshua, son of Nun, and Caleb, son of Jephunneh, were there. They had been part of the group who had gone to spy out the land. They ripped their clothes, [7] and told the Israelites, “The country we traveled through and explored has very good land. [8] If the Lord is happy with us, he will take us there and give it to us, a land that's so productive it's like flowing with milk and honey. [9] Don't rebel and fight against the Lord. You don't need to be afraid of the people living there in the country—we can take them easily! They're defenseless and the Lord is with us. Don't be frightened of them!” [10] In reply all the people shouted out, “Stone them!” But the glory of the Lord suddenly appeared in the Tent of Meeting, right in the middle of the Israelites.”

“Are You Focusing on God or Obstacles?” by In Touch Ministries:

“God is able to overcome any problem we face.”

“God told the Israelites to go and possess the land of Canaan. The people needed a place to thrive as a nation, and He chose an exceptionally good land for them.

So at the Lord’s direction, Moses sent 12 men to survey and spy out the area. What a surprise when 10 of them returned with unfavorable, alarming stories. Most of them could see only the obstacles. However, Caleb and Joshua were positive they’d “surely overcome” (Num. 13:30)—that was because they were focused on God’s promises rather than obvious difficulties. Their confidence was based on the Lord’s words to Abraham: “To your descendants I will give this land” (Genesis 12:7).

The rest of the Israelites didn’t share the two men’s faith—tales of giants and fortified cities scared them. Ordinarily, those would’ve been obstacles worth fearing. But their omnipotent God had proven He could overcome anything: He’d parted the Red Sea to facilitate their escape and fed them in the desert.

Focusing on obstacles distorts our vision. Then problems loom so large we can’t see to take the next step in faith. But if God has called us to do something, the reality we need to see is this: He’s already planned a way around, over, or through any barriers that might lie on the path to fulfilling His purpose for our life.”

[Photo thanks to Benjamin Voros at Unsplash]

[girlactionfigure]

"From the River to the Sea"

@Daniel_Sugarman

In this thread, I’m going to go into some detail about what the phrase “From the River to the Sea, Palestine will be Free” means to many Jewish people. You may not agree, but I hope that it may enlighten those who simply don't understand the almost visceral reaction to it.

🧵 

2) For the benefit of a number of students at some of America’s most expensive higher education institutions, let’s start by clarifying - the river is the River Jordan, the sea is the Mediterranean.

3) So what do those chanting it mean? When asked, a bunch of them will say they want a single state in this area in which all people can live together in dignity and equality. Sounds great, right? Who would argue with that? 

4) That claim is somewhat muddied when one particular version of that chant is used in Arabic, as has been heard and seen at various protests - من المية للمية / فلسطين عربية “From water to water, Palestine is Arab”. But let's leave that aside for the moment. 

5) Note that the protesters are not calling for Israel to be *changed* into what they see as a free and equal society. For them this can only be achieved by Israel being *ended* and replaced by Palestine. 

6) Objectively, you can say that the reason for this is that the protestors believe that Israel (and Zionism) is fundamentally incompatible with what they see as equality and freedom for all, which is why for them it has to go in its entirety. But... 

7) But there is a significant degree of ambiguity as to what the end result *actually* means. And it’s that question mark which is why so many Jewish people see this slogan the way they do.

8) Because Jewish people have lots of different examples of what happens to Jewish communities who are minorities in countries in the MENA region. They get destroyed. I'll give you some examples. 

9) Egypt. 1948 - 75,000 Jews. 2024 - 30 Jews.

10) Lebanon. 1948 - 9,000 Jews. 2024 - 20 Jews.

11) Syria. 1948 - 15,000 Jews. 2024 - 4 Jews.

12) Yemen. 1948 - 55,000 Jews. 2024 - 1 Jew.

13) Iraq. 1948 - 156,000 Jews. 2024 - 1 Jew.

14) Iran. 1948 - 150,000 Jews. 2024 - 8,750 Jews (under the strict control of the Iranian regime).

15) Libya. 1948 - 40,000 Jews. 2024 - No Jews.

16) Algeria. 1948 - 150,000 Jews. 2024 - 150 Jews,

17) Tunisia. 1948 - 105,000 Jews. 2024 - 1,500 Jews.

18) Morocco. 1948 - 270,000 Jews. 2024 - 2,000 Jews.

19) The anti-Zionist narrative is that this mass Exodus was the fault of the Zionists, who created Israel. No Israel, goes the refrain, and all those communities would still be there.

This ignores a very simple point. 

20) In every single one of these countries, to a greater or lesser extent, Israel’s independence was followed by significant repression of local Jewish populations.

Every one. 

21) Remind me, what’s the way to describe holding members of an ethnic or racial group responsible for what other members of that group may have done elsewhere?

22) By doing so - oppressing the local Jewish population via pogroms, repressive laws, denying Jewish people full citizenship, confiscation of land and property - these MENA countries made a more effective argument for Zionism than Israel ever could have done by itself. 

23) What that said, very clearly, was that Jews as a minority in a MENA country lived there strictly on sufferance. That at any time they could be deprived of everything - including their lives.

This had been clear pre-Zionism too, but the reaction post-'48 put the seal on this.

24) Which brings us back to now. The one-state Palestine being dreamt of is one where, at best, Jews will be allowed to live as a minority. 

25) I put it to you that the experience of more than half of Israel’s Jewish population - descended from those who had to leave MENA countries, means that they *know* what the end result of such a Palestine will be.

A land without Jews. 

26) This, by the way, given most Israeli Jews now are descendants of MENA Jews is also why the “post-colonial” depiction of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict as some sort of “white vs brown” battle is so utterly brainless. And that’s before we discuss Israel’s many Ethiopian Jews. 

27) I’ve gone on too long, I know, but just one final point. If the anti-Israel protestors really wanted to assure Jews - all Jews - that there would be a real future for Jews in their hoped for future one-state Palestine - they would be doing their best to engage with Zionists. 

28) They would be saying “Zionism is an ideology built on numerous examples - in MENA and in Europe - that Jews are, in the long term, only safe in their own country. Let us show you that this isn’t necessarily the case. Let’s talk. Find common ground. Try for friendships.” 

29) Instead Zionists are told they are Nazis. The same age-old antisemitic conspiracy theories about Jewish control are applied to “Zionists”. “Zionists” are excluded from the Community of the Good. 

30) Congratulations! 

You’ve just proved every single Jewish Zionist’s point for them - and you’ve helped create new ones. In a very similar way to those MENA countries post 1948. 

*Thread ends* 

[five-rivers]

Ancestral Chapter 26

New Ancestral chapter! You can also read it on my AO3.

.

Because Danny's life was a joke, he had Vlad's number saved to his phone.  

The man had beaten him up, kidnapped him, tortured him, cloned him, and had professed a strong desire to kill his Dad - not to mention a desire for homicide in general - but there he was on Danny's contact list.  It was ridiculous.  But having a way to contact the fruitloop was too useful for Danny to just delete or block him.  

For example, this situation.  

“Are you sure about this?” asked Danny scrolling down to ‘F’ for ‘Fruitloop.’  “He's kind of like rats.  Once he gets into somewhere, he's a pain to get rid of.”

“I'm unclear what is stopping him now, if so,” said Gwensyvyr.  “As you said, he can fly, can he not?”

“I…”  Danny frowned down at his phone.  “Personal comfort?  Here to Britain is pretty long.  And cold.  And he might want to be here in his civilian persona, not just as a ghost.  I think that's most likely, really.”

“Ah, he keeps that secret, then?”

“Yeah,” said Danny.  “Otherwise my parents would probably kill him, and he loves flirting with Mom.”

“Then I think he should not be so hard to handle, after all.  We shall use him.”  She nodded decisively.  “And if he should forget his place and proposition your mother so brazenly, we shall simply kill him.”

“Okay,” said Danny, looking up from his phone.  “I think- I think that's going a little far, actually.”

“As short-sighted as Madlyn is, she is a lady, and one of my descendants,” said Gwensyvyr.  “No one should take liberties, unless she wills it.”  She paused.  “But the killing was, in this case, metaphorical.”

Danny squinted at her.  He couldn’t tell if she was lying or not.  

“Go on, then.  Call this poorly behaved and very wealthy lunatic of yours.”

“He’s not my anything.  He’s not even my archenemy.”

Gwensyvyr, floating as if lying down on something, propped her head on her knuckles.  “Oh?  Who is?  Pariah Dark?”

“That, um…  No.  I only fought the guy the one time, so…”  He shook his head, suddenly embarrassed by the whole thing and not wanting to admit that his archenemy was Dash.  “It’s not anyone you’d know.  It’s stupid.”  He pressed the call button, then the speakerphone button, so Gwensyvyr could hear.  

The phone rang.

.

Vlad Masters was not a man used to being stymied. 

What few doors his prodigious wealth could not open, his ghost powers allowed him to bypass entirely.  Not to mention his dashing good looks and charming personality.  

And yet, stymied he was.  

He shouldn’t have been, by his own calculations.  Avlynys wasn’t any richer than any other tiny European country, and should have been just as ripe for bribery.  However, it seemed impervious.  At least, on the part of official channels that would have allowed him to exist within the country publicly - and pursue his courtship of dear Madeline.

(Surely, her family couldn’t approve of Jack.  The man was a boar.  A common boar.  Meanwhile, Vlad had both refinement and wealth.)

There were likely dozens of smugglers of the underclass that would take him to the islands, of course, as even under the current circumstances people still needed to eat and other necessities still had to be imported or exported.  He didn’t care about those.  If he wanted to get to Avlynys on the sly, he could just fly over on his own.

He was tempted to overshadow the officials involved, but considering that the injunction on travel came from the highest levels of the Avlynysan government, and that the Avlynysan government was very small, and also in regular contact with the few people who could reliably identify an overshadowing… and although Vlad was seventy percent sure that the heir presumptive to the throne, Matthew Dyrys, didn’t truly believe that Daniel had any special powers, well…  There was always the chance that after the incident with the ghost, he would take Daniel more seriously than most adults would take a teenager.  

But he wasn’t entirely out of options.  A man like himself never was.  As he’d said, certain necessities were still moving in and out of the country, and Avlynys had businessmen as well.  People who could make the argument that he could provide vital services, and who could pressure the appropriate politicians.  However, the price was sure to be steep, and the process would be a lengthy one.  

It was annoying.  

More annoying was the fact that his contact, a representative of the French branch of an Avlynysan company, was late.  They should treat someone like Vlad with more courtesy.  He wasn’t at all used to being kept waiting.  

He checked his watch again and wondered, with a malice so practiced that it was almost idle, if the man was conducting some sort of power play, or if he was just incompetent.  Perhaps, after this, he would put some effort into ruining him.  

“Excuse me, Mr. Masters?”  The one asking was a relatively young blond man with flyaway, slightly thinning hair, broad shoulders, and an accent Vlad was coming to recognize as Avlynysan.

“Ah,” said Vlad, looking up and smiling politely.  “You must be Mr… Ambeej?  Am I pronouncing that correctly?”  His eyes slid pointedly to the blond man’s companion, a middle-aged woman with pearly white hair and watery eyes.  

“Ymbyge,” said the blond man, who flashed a quick smile back at Vlad.  “But don’t worry, no one gets it right on the first try.  Please, call me Christian  I’m sorry for how late I am, but I was consulting with my German counterpart, Ms. Shoenhauer.”

“Pleased to meet you,” said the woman.  Her accent was German.  

“You’re not Avlynysan?”

“Avlynyse,” interjected Mr. Ymbyge. 

“We are an international company, Mr. Masters,” said Ms. Shoenhauer, sitting at the table and smoothing the tablecloth in front of her.  “But my family has had much to do with Avlynys in the past.  It is very important to us.”

“I see,” said Vlad.  

“So!” said Mr. Ymbyge.  “What did you want to talk about?  There’s been a lot of interest in our little country recently, but you stand out even with that…”

Of course Vlad stood out.  His business had nothing to do with the assassinations and the recent international commotion and everything to do with his long-standing personal interest in Maddie and Daniel.  

“I was close with Princess Madeline in college,” said Vlad.  It was something that anyone with a brain should have researched already, but he knew that it would also make helping him a much more attractive proposition for people like these.  “I want to offer her all the help I can during this trying time, whether it be emotional, financial or political, but as it stands, it is very difficult to offer such things when I am stuck here.”  He shrugged, projecting - literally, with ghost powers - an air of self-depreciation.  

“Wow, that’s sure something,” said Mr. Ymbyge.  “But–”

Vlad’s phone rang.  “A moment.”  He could make power-plays as well.  They were, in fact, his favorite game.  Besides, it would do well for these two to know where they stood.

The caller ID displayed the words ‘LITTLE BADGER.’  What was Daniel doing, calling him?  Based on Daniel’s normal behavior, Vlad would have expected Daniel to practically forget that Vlad existed.  

Unless, of course, he’d gotten in over his head.  

“Excuse me,” said Vlad, barely glancing at Mr. Ymbyge and Ms. Shoenhauer.  “I have to take this.”  He stepped away from the table and towards the restaurant's lavish bathrooms.  As soon as he was out of sight, he turned invisible and flew up.  No need to risk eavesdroppers.  

He let the phone ring a third time.  No need to let Daniel think he was rushing.

.

Vlad picked up the phone.

“Oh, Daniel, to what do I owe the pleasure?  Now that you’re an internationally renowned prince and sorcerer–”

While syvyr could be translated as ‘sorcerer,’ ledyn absolutely didn’t mean prince.  At all.  But Danny knew that if he let himself get sidetracked, he and Vlad would wind up arguing about toilet paper or something equally banal and ludicrous.  “Listen, I know you’re trying to get into the country legitimately, and–”

Vlad sighed loudly.  “And you want to stop me, I suppose?  You’re as predictable as always–”

“I can get you in, but you need to do something for me first.”

There was a pause.  “Pardon?”

“I want to make a deal with you.  You do something for me, I do something for you.  You do know how making deals works, right?  You can’t have overshadowed people for everything.”

“I’ll have you know that most of my business arrangements are perfectly legitimate.”

“Doubt,” said Danny.  “But do you want in?  Because otherwise I don’t want to waste my time listening to your voice.”

“What guarantee do I have that you would keep your side of the bargain?  You and your sister haven’t been entirely honest with me in the past.”

“Well, first off, that was when you kidnapped me; secondly, we didn’t have a deal, then.  I was just lying to you.”  He saw Gwensyvyr’s eyebrows go up and winced.  Hopefully, that didn’t lower her opinion of him.  “I’ve kept every deal we’ve made, even when you haven’t.”

Vlad made a disgruntled noise.  “How would you even accomplish such a task?  You’re a teenager and–”

“I’m currently living in the same house as the next ruler of Avlynys,” said Danny, which was a true statement no matter who wound up taking the throne, “and like you said, I’m an internationally renowned sorcerer.  Besides, when I tell you what I want you to do, you’ll understand.”

“What is it, exactly, that you want me to do?  You’ve never asked for my help with any ghosts before, and considering your performance against the ghost at that Moon Masque, I can’t imagine that you would start now.”

“Yeah, well, what I need right now doesn’t have to do with ghosts.”

“Well,” said Vlad, “I’d have to hear what you want before I can agree or disagree to anything.  You understand.”

Danny looked up at Gwensyvyr, who was frowning down at the phone.  She glanced back at Danny, then spoke to the phone.  “As one of your standing ought to–”

“Who is that?  That isn’t Jasmine.  Daniel, you didn’t–”

“She’s a ghost,” said Danny before Vlad could work himself into a fit, as funny as that would be.  “Most people can’t even see her.  She’s not going to go around spreading your secrets.”

“A shade, then,” said Vlad, dismissively.  “What does she have to do with this?”

“She’s a relative.”

“One of the dead ones?”

“No,” said Gwensyvyr, sarcastically, “despite being a ghost, I am, in fact, perfectly alive.”

“It has happened before,” said Vlad, equally snide.  “What do you have to do with this?”

“I should expect that it would be self-evident that I want my relatives safe,” said Gwensyvyr.  “I am here to facilitate this negotiation.”

“I suppose it is more convenient to speak to an adult.  So, what is it you want?  A power boost?  Some final request that dear Daniel cannot fulfil?  I suppose he is rather limited.”

“As I was saying,” said Gwensyvyr, rather frostily, “one such as yourself should know the value of information by itself.  We will explain, but we require something in exchange.”

“Yes?  What’s that?”

“All your records of little Danyel.”

“Daniel’s records?  What makes you think–?”

“No, not Dannyl’s.  Danyel’s.  The girl’s.”

“Danielle’s,” said Danny.  Gwensyvyr’s pronunciation wasn’t that far off the English, but it wasn’t like Daniel and Danielle were all that different as names to begin with.  

“Fine,” said Vlad.  “But I won’t be able to do anything about it until I return home, and I’m in France at the moment.  So if what you want from me is time sensitive in any way, you should tell me now.”

Gwensyvyr nodded.  “Right,” said Danny.  “Well, have you ever heard of Revyvtech?”

.

Vlad raised an eyebrow, then looked down at the restaurant where two Revyvtech employees were currently waiting to speak to him.  “A time or two.  Why?”

“We’re pretty sure they’re behind the assassinations, and they used something like blood blossoms to do it.”

“Blood blossoms?  They don’t work on humans.”

“But they do work on liminals.  Do you think I just happened to have a knife that worked on ghosts with me at the Moon Masque, or that Mom just threw darts at a board to decide what she was going to do with her life?  Avlynys is a thin spot.”

Vlad pressed his lips together.  It wasn’t as if this would be the first time he used people who wanted to do him harm - the GIW were one such example - but it did make things so much more difficult.  “And you want me to what?  Investigate them?  Fight them?”

“No.  Aunt Alicia is in a coma, back in Arkansas.  We can’t check her out of the hospital she’s at, because her security team doesn’t count as family and the rest of us are all the way over here.  They’ve sent us pictures of her hooked up to a bunch of Revyvtech stuff, though, so we’re pretty sure they’re keeping her in a coma even if we don’t know why.  We want you to figure out what they’re giving her and get her to Avlynys.”

“And how do you expect me to do that when the hospital will only discharge her to family?” asked Vlad. 

“I don’t know, money boy.  Bribe them.  Or overshadow everyone in the hospital.  It’s what you did to get elected, isn’t it?”

“That part will be easy, yes, but I was talking about determining what medicines she’s on, Daniel,” said Vlad, rubbing the bridge of his nose.  

“Hey, you’re the one always bragging to me about how much you know about ghosts.  Use some of that.  None of us here know exactly what they’re using or what they’re doing, which is why we want you to look into it.  Or at least get Aunt Alicia.  Either way, if you show up with Aunt Alicia, you’ll be let in.”

To be fair, Daniel had been right when he said that it would be clear why they would let him in if he completed ‘his side’ of the deal.  Vlad considered his options.  On one hand, he would very much prefer not to do anything Daniel said, simply on principle.  On the other, the business with Revyvtech sounded potentially dangerous to him as well, especially if they were going around poisoning people with blood blossoms.  Retrieving Alicia would likely gain him the favor of Maddie as well.  She did love her sister, for reasons that, quite frankly, escaped Vlad.  

And being trapped in a hospital like that was a fate he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy.  

“Very well,” said Vlad.  “May I assume you’ll be telling this ‘security team’ to expect me?”

“Yeah, fruitloop.  I’m not trying to get you killed.  I want Aunt Alicia to get here safely.”

“That’s hardly what I’m worried about, Daniel.”

“Well, I am.”

Vlad smiled.  “Oh, really?  I’m flattered, Daniel.”

As expected, Daniel hung up.  Vlad shook his head.  Teenagers!

[talonabraxas]

“Love in its essence is spiritual fire.” — Seneca

Seraphim “Burning Ones” Talon Abraxas Your Personal Seraphim

When you gain a momentum in offering the resurrection mantras on behalf of all servants of God and elemental life, as Jesus has given you through the Messenger the Ritual of the Resurrection Flame, I tell you that you will be empowered by the Spirit of the Resurrection, who is a Cosmic Being from out the Great Central Sun.

Events beyond the control of any angel or Cosmic Being, events that show the consistency and the impartiality of God’s Law, events that are the cycling and recycling of planetary karma–these are not abrogated save one such as Moses should plead for the mercy of God on behalf of a wayward people. And so you have been told that when you invoke the violet flame and you call for the mitigation of the descending woes and karmas, there is indeed a mitigation of individual and world karma proportionate to the number of devotees invoking the violet flame on behalf of the people. In this role you intercede before the Holy of holies as did the Levitical priesthood and as do the members of the priesthood of Melchizedek and Lord Zadkiel. Seraph Will Come to You as Initiator, Teacher and Dearest Friend

We have said and we say it again: There is yet time for you to invoke that world transmutation! There is yet time for the sacred fire to descend upon you through the agency of the seraphim as it descended on Isaiah. This is the hour when you can call upon God to send that seraph for the purging of your soul. And when you receive him, you do your part by calling to the violet flame to transmute all records of sin. Then, when you have set your house in order as a violet flame house, you can call to him again. And this time, by your decrees, that seraph will come to you as initiator, as teacher, as dearest friend.

You need not fear the seraphim. That single seraph assigned to you, beloved, will not burn your tongue with a hot coal but he will purge your throat chakra to the extent allowed by the Great Law. And he will bit by bit, day by day require of you that you cast some morsel of misqualified substance into the violet flame and that you change certain thought patterns, certain emotional patterns and certain lower vibrations that you have carried for far too long. That single seraph assigned to you will assist you and deliver you, if you so desire his assistance and his deliverance.

These seraphim have gathered here in the Heart of the Inner Retreat by leave of Elohim of the Fourth Ray. They will be assigned to each one who desires to receive the initiations outlined. I only counsel you thus: God has sent angels to your side in the past. You have gone forth from such dictations with a vibration so high that you could scarcely remember what was said. And by and by you have forgot that angels or elementals were assigned to you and you have forgot to command them in the service of the Holy Christ Self of all sons and daughters of God on earth. So this time, beloved, write down the following, if you will, in your daily planner or calendar:

On this day and date and hour [Saturday, June 26, 1993, at 6:10 p.m.] a seraphim has come to me, assigned by Elohim of the Fourth Ray. I have accepted him as my tutor and my initiator and I will strive daily to rise to new levels of my own God Presence dwelling in me bodily, even as the Lord God dwelt bodily in my Lord and Saviour. I will follow my Lord all the way to Golgotha and beyond. I will follow him to the East, to India. I will follow him unto the resurrection and unto eternal life!

If you desire to do these things and to affirm them daily, write them down before you retire this night so that you will remember that you have entered into an association with a seraph sent from the throne of God to deliver you that you might deliver others. This is the calling, beloved. This is the reason for being.

Let your flesh be filled with Light! Let your chakras be filled with Light! But know also that a day and date and hour comes to all when the opportunity for ultimate victory in this particular lifetime draws to a close.

Set your goal for what you desire to accomplish on the spiritual path and what you desire to accomplish in your profession and in relation to your secular and karmic responsibilities. Set your timetables, set your lifelines. And see to it that when this earthly life span is through (and you enter the gates of the heaven-world once again, as you have entered them many times before) you have books of good record under your arm that you or your recording angel have kept in the library of your etheric body so that you may open them before the Lords of Karma and say, “See, day by day by day I have done thus and such in the service of my God.”

- Pearl of Wisdom Vol. 36 No. 34 – Elohim Astrea's dictation Accept Your Seraph as Teacher, Initiator and Dearest Friend.

[eretzyisrael]

by Simon Sebag Montefiore

There is a myth that the last antisemitic pogrom in the British Isles was in medieval York. It was far more recent than that: The long-forgotten Limerick pogrom happened in 1904. It began with a sermon given by a priest and gathered momentum because it was backed by Arthur Griffith, the founder of the original Sinn Féin and friend of Michael Collins.

The story of the Limerick pogrom (or “boycott,” as it is also known) has a special resonance for me because my grandfather and his family, the Jaffes, lived in Limerick then—though they never mentioned it. Indeed, Irish Jewry, including its most famous son, Chaim Herzog, late president of Israel, had protested that Ireland was the most tolerant land in Europe. Now it appears that they protested too much. The strangest thing of all is that the Jews of today’s Ireland are still frightened of telling this story. When I made a television film about the pogrom, most Irish Jews were too scared of “making trouble, attracting attention” to take part in it.

I had always been proud of my Irish roots. My late grandfather, Henry Jaffe, who lost his Irish accent but kept his debonair Irish charm, used to say that he had seen mermaids at Ballybunion, and Aunt Rose used to reminisce in an Irish brogue about the Limerick Races. While talking to a distinguished Irish political writer, I mentioned that I was descended from Limerick Jews. He told me the story that became the basis of my film about the origins of Sinn Féin.

Virtually the whole Jewish community in Limerick, numbering about 170, were from the village of Akmenė in the Tsar’s Baltic territories, which are now Lithuania—part of the Pale of Settlement, the only area where Jews were allowed to live. When in the 1880s Nicholas II stepped up his anti-Jewish legislation, my great-great-grandfather Benjamin Jaffe and most of Akmenė decided to leave before the Cossacks returned. Benjamin bought a ticket for New York, but when he arrived at the picturesque imperial British port of Queenstown in southern Ireland (now called Cobh, whence the Titanic departed on its final voyage), he was told that he had arrived in the New World. “But that doesn’t look like New York,” the Jews protested as they disembarked. “New York’s the next parish,” they were told. When they discovered this was not the case, they settled in Limerick.

They lived together in considerable poverty on Colooney Street, which soon became known as Little Jerusalem. In the 1901 census, four years before the pogrom, my maternal family were registered as peddlers. The patriarch, Benjamin, a magnificent man with a long white beard, was a peddler, though really he was the chazan (singer) and mohel (circumciser) of the little community. He lived at 64 Colooney Street and his son Max, aged 26, lived at Number 31 with his own family, which included my grandfather Henry, aged 3, and my great-aunt Rose, aged 1.

The family has always been proud that Max was a dentist, but I soon discovered that he was not technically qualified; the census called him, alarmingly, “dental mechanic.” It comments dryly that the family could read and write. They must have been the most erudite peddlers who ever existed, for they were as scholarly as they were poor. My grandfather’s bar mitzvah speech is written in both English and in fluent ancient Hebrew, and filled with biblical references.

However hard it was to do business in Limerick, it seemed a safer sanctuary than Russia. But three years after the census, when my grandfather was 6, hatred of this tiny Jewish community reached fever pitch among the very poor Irish to whom they sold their wares. They often sold on credit, and this caused savage resentment. Sometimes when a Jew went to the surrounding countryside to collect a debt, peasant women would pull out their breasts, shout “Rape!,” and then the men would beat up the Jew. An ostentatious Jewish wedding apparently caused jealousy. The pogrom was the result of the increasingly vicious agitation of the spiritual director of Limerick’s Redemptorist Order, Father John Creagh, whose church overshadowed Little Jerusalem. The climax came when Creagh, “a speaker of fervid eloquence,” gave his sermon entitled “How the Israelites trade,” on Monday, January 11, 1904. It reads like a grotesque parody of antisemitism:

The Jews rejected Jesus, they crucified Him and called down the curse of His precious blood on their own heads. . . they did not hesitate to shed Christian blood. Nowadays they dare not kidnap and slay Christian children, but they will not hesitate to expose them to a longer and more cruel martyrdom by taking the clothes off their backs and the bit out of their mouths.

Then Creagh came to the Jews of Limerick:

Twenty years ago and less, Jews were known only by name and evil repute in Limerick. They were sucking the blood of other nations, but those nations turned them out. And they come to our land to fasten themselves like leeches. Their rags have been exchanged for silk. They have wormed themselves into every business. . . the furniture trade, the milk trade, the drapery trade—and they have even traded under Irish names. . . . The victims of the Jews are mostly women. . . .The Jew has a sweet tongue when he wishes. . . . If you want an example, look to France. What is at present going on in that land?

The reference to the Dreyfus scandal is significant.

The injustice of it was little consolation to the Jews of Colooney Street when the thousand or so worshippers of Creagh’s church poured out, as they were to do daily for a month. A huge drunken mob gathered, wielding burning torches. They worked their way down Colooney Street smashing windows and front doors, and forcing their way into the houses which they then looted. For more than a month the Jews of Limerick waited, terrified in their own homes, almost starving, for Creagh had urged the people not to pay their debts. No one would do business with them. If they walked in the streets, they were beaten. The only miracle was that no one lost his life, but for the Jews who had just escaped the Cossacks, it was terrifying.

[whatswrongwithblue]

The Fire in the Sin

Chapter 26 - The Show Must Go On

Word count: 9,332. Read on AO3. Series Masterlist. <- Previous Chapter

Summary: the battle and the consequences

Series Summary

In the 1950's, Alastor met the woman he would eventually marry but unfortunately his Radio Demon persona went for her soul rather than her hand. He has to learn what it means to love, and cherish, without possessing and he does. Their relationship is beautiful, strong, unbreakable . . . but he carries a dark secret through their marriage for decades until eventually he has to face the consequences of that secret and leave her, without warning, for seven years. He returns, finding her at the Hazbin Hotel, and has to convince her to forgive him, while being literally bound to secrecy, unable to tell her any of things he now is desperate to explain to her.

(This is a duel timeline fic, timestamps will be a the top of every chapter.)

Chapter 26 - The Show Must Go On

Alastor was a master of hiding his true feelings and intentions. Since his return, he had often relied on that skillset to manipulate his way through the workings of the hotel, to twist and turn his guidance of Charlie where he needed, and to charm others into trusting that his presence there would be of their benefit. It wasn’t necessarily untrue though it also wasn’t explicitly honest of him to allow them all to believe what they did of him.

However, on the morning of the extermination, there was no need to pretend away any of his feelings. His glee, his absolute eagerness to see those angels descend upon the hotel, allowed him to express himself in an open and true way that he usually had to reserve for his private moments alone with Mina.

His wife was also an open book, though she was more anxious than he was. She gripped onto the ledge in front of her, watching as her friends battled with the few angels that had made their way to the hotel before Alastor’s shield had been raised.

Mina was the very image of beauty that morning. It was rare to see her in anything but her usual attire and he had to admit, he rather liked her in pants. The tight black trousers and long sleeved orange shirt hugged her figure and gave her a grace and agility her preferred dress could never achieve. Her hair was pulled up into a bun with side braids that laced just beneath her ears. After seeing her show off her improved fighting style with her spar against Vaggie the day before, Alastor kept looking over at her with a rekindled appreciation for her hidden strengths. Mina was always such a petite, unassuming person that it was easy to forget, even for himself, how positively deadly she could be.

So far, her worry over their safety appeared to be needless. The small army from cannibal town seemed to be holding their own, the hotel residents were doing quite well for themselves, and Mina’s friends from The Pit were demolishing any angel that came near them. It was easy, effortless work, with sheer numbers and preparations on their side, where the angels were separated from the rest of their army and had vastly underestimated what they were up against.

Alastor still wasn’t worried when his shields fell.

It was of little consequence if he had to face Adam, in fact, a part of him had been looking forward to the thrilling challenge of it.

Mina had turned to him as soon as it happened, reluctant to follow through with what she had agreed to.

“Go,” Alastor told her, gesturing towards the next wave of angels that were nearly on the people down below. “They need you far more than I do.”

“If you die, I’ll never forgive you,” she said, giving him one last hard look, before stepping through a portal and leaving him alone on the roof of the hotel.

For the first time, he was truly grateful for their seven years apart. He was sure if she hadn’t experienced the pain of it, hadn’t had to dig through the remains of her heart and find the strength to face what he had put her through, she wouldn’t have been able to follow through with leaving him to face Adam alone.

And even afterward, when everything had gone terribly wrong, he still didn’t regret his decision to make her leave his side. He had just barely survived the blow from that terrible weapon of Adam’s and he was certain that Mina wouldn’t have been able to do the same. And if she died, every last shred of goodness still left inside of him would die with her.

No, it simply wouldn’t be allowed to come to that. She was far safer and more useful to his cause down below, keeping Charlie safe and fighting exterminators of a less impressive caliber than the one he was now staring down.

____

Mina stepped out of her portal and into chaos.

She had a moment to look back up towards the hotel and catch a glimpse of Adam in his white and golden robes flying lower, clearly headed towards Alastor, before an exterminator was on her. Just in time, she lifted her spear and blocked the attack, throwing the angel off balance and smashing the blunt end of her spear into the other woman’s mask, knocking her to the ground and impaling her through the chest hard enough that Mina had to put her weight into yanking the spear out, its tip having lodged itself into the concrete beneath the angel’s back.

Her head tilted to the side as she considered her fallen enemy. The woman’s mask was shattered, the insulting demonic visage sputtering as the imagery failed, though her true face was still hidden from Mina. After a couple gurgled breaths, the angel went limp. Mina bent down and grabbed her spear, happy to now be duel wielding them, and kicked the dead angel in the head as she stepped away from her. She’d always hated those fucking masks.

Vaggie was glued to Charlie’s side so Mina kept nearer to her comrades from The Pit, though she kept one eye on the couple in case something were to happen to Vaggie and Charlie needed the added protection. She had promised Alastor she would keep her safe and though Charlie was more powerful than anyone else there that day, Mina wasn’t confident in the princess’s ability to understand and wield that power just yet.

She watched as Astra used her chameleon powers to camouflage herself in the darkest recesses of the battle ground before striking out with simple yet devastating strikes of her spear. Fae and Lilah were the very images of grace, their hyper feminine forms making them look more like they were doing a ballet rather than fighting to the death, if it weren’t for the splatters of gold blood on their features. Alina was in her full demonic visage, a terrifying giant bat, her large leather wings allowing her an ariel advantage. The angels were not used to having victims that fought back and they were extra poor at defense when airborne. Any of them that tried to attack the hotel residents from above was met with Alina’s perfect combinations of angelic spear and the wide gaping maw of her hungry mouth. Kaden and Silva were mostly fighting amongst the cannibals, their own fighting style less refined than that of the others but more brutal, and their high-pitched cackles echoed through the courtyard, even over the din of the battle around them.

Mina wasn’t keeping track of how many angels she had taken down. She had joked with Angel the night before that they should make a competition of it, like Legolas and Gimli, but he hadn’t gotten the reference. Her spear sank into the gut of an oncoming exterminator and it didn’t exit out her back so Mina twisted the spear and pulled it sideways and out, leaving a gaping hole in the angel’s torso.

That had to have been at least a dozen.

Something whizzed past her ears and half a second later a large explosion came from a few feet behind her. She turned behind her to see Husk with his hand still midair, having just thrown a card and sending her would be attacker into a box of empty crates stacked at the side of the courtyard.

Mina gave Husk a small smile of appreciation before turning on the angel that was now getting up from where she had landed, shoving a crate off herself with a disgusted grunt.

The angelic steel-edged axe Mina had been eyeing the morning before was strapped to her hip and she dropped one spear to reach for it, eyeing it almost lovingly as she tossed it once in her grip before the handle settled into her palm, perfectly balanced, and she pulled her arm back and threw it. Her aim was true and the axe landed with a satisfying crunch in the middle of the angel’s face.

“FUCKING BULLSEYE! FUCK YEAH BITCH!” Cherri’s voice shouted from several feet away before the blonde set a stream of bombs flying over Mina’s head and into the next oncoming surge of angels.

Mina smiled, taking in a long deep, open-mouthed breath, savoring the sweet smell of golden blood all around her.

This was going well.

A moment later, Mina’s confidence was shattered as she saw a great flash of gold lightning from the corner of her eye and turned to see Vaggie and Charlie thrown to the ground.

“SUCK MY HOLY LIGHT, FUCKERS!”

Adam.

“-but Alastor was supposed to handle him. Oh no, he must be- ”

Charlie’s voice had said out loud what Mina had been thinking. Before she could process anything, she was stepping through a portal and back on the roof of the hotel.

“ALASTOR!” she screamed, running around the rooftop, looking for any signs of him.

She closed her eyes and breathed slowly, and her feline olfactory senses picked up the sharp metallic tang she knew so well. Mina was familiar with the unique smell of Alastor’s blood, had tasted it on her own lips, and delighted in the way his scent strengthened every time she drew it from his body. It was a smell she associated with desire and pleasure, of their most intimate moments together. It was hardly something she was used to associating with danger and dread but that was what the scent was making her feel now.

Mina chased the smell across the rooftop and found a disturbing amount of it splashed onto the floor of the rooftop. She knew from experience that blood spilled from a body always appeared to be far greater in volume than what was true, but from the pattern of it and the deep crimson color, it looked to have been spilled quickly and from an incredibly deep wound.

But there wasn’t a trail of blood leading away and there was no body.

Mina squeezed her eyes shut, holding closed fists to them as she felt the sting of tears and the crushing grip of panic threatening to spill out of her. Her chin quivered and she grimaced but she still forced herself to keep it together for a little while longer.

His shadow could have moved him. Conscious or unconscious, it would have been able to get Alastor to safety and there would have been little Adam could do it to stop it. She knew this and held tightly to the hope that no matter how badly he had been hurt, he would have gotten away.

But it was an angelic weapon that had hurt him. And there was so much blood.

Even if he had gotten to a safe place, he wouldn’t be able to heal from that kind of a wound.

Alastor could still bleed out and die before she ever got to him.

Maybe his shadow would come back after getting Alastor to safety. It would know he needed help and that she would be his best bet of getting it.

But Alastor had told her to stay by Charlie’s side. He had said she needed to keep her away from Adam. Maybe he wouldn’t send his shadow for her after all. She couldn’t imagine Alastor being that selfless of his own accord but if he had been forced to ask that of her because of his deal – she just didn’t know.

She didn’t know what to do.

Now panic’s beastly nature was truly digging its claws into her, making her lungs feel like they were being ripped from her chest and her heart bitten clean in two. She was frightened beyond belief, frozen in place by the fear that Alastor was dying and that she would utterly fail him in every way.

Two angels landed on the roof top just a few feet from her and suddenly the blinding white mask of panic was lifted from her eyes and in its place, the burning red of fury.

Mina screamed as she let her rage and despair burst out of her, her fists consumed in golden fire that she sent in a torrent across the rooftop that completely engulfed the angels and within seconds they were nothing but smoldering blackened bodies lying on the ground.

The flames had caught Adam’s attention and she made eye contact with him the second he turned and looked at her.

“Well la-dee-fucking-dah bitch. Looks like someone’s been making friends with the bitch-ass loser squad you got running the place down here.”

“Where is he?!” she shouted at him and Adam’s smile grew wider.

“Let me guess, Mr. fucking jazz hands? Yeah, I sliced his ass in half. Sucks for you, bitch.”

He flew straight at her, his weapon held high over his head, and she let another scream tear out of her as she sent the biggest wave of fire she had ever seen at him.

The heat felt like it was going to boil her alive, she could feel the power pulling her inside out, like a taught string that started all the way down in her toes and threatened to tear her muscles from her bones and dislocate every joint in her body.

She kept the flames going as long as she could stand, a tornado of golden fire that could have burned an entire crowd of Sinners and leveled buildings.

When Mina could take it no longer, she dropped to her knees, her arms and head falling forward, and she gasped for air, trying to cool down her overheated and feverish body.

Laughter was the first thing she registered and she lifted her gaze back up, blinking in confusion.

Adam was hovering in the sky. His robes had a singular spot of soot on them but he was otherwise completely untouched.

It wasn’t possible.

She had seen what her fire had done to the other angels. Adam may have been the first man but he was still a human soul. The kind of fire she just wielded should have been enough to take out the likes of Lilith. Even Abaddon and Lucifer would have been hurt by it.

The other exterminators may not have come prepared, but Heaven had clearly imbued Adam with powers far stronger than he should have had.

“Awwww, what’s the matter? Not hot enough for ya? I bet I can spice things up!”

He slashed his weapon out in front of him, sending a beam of light her way. Mina got to her feet and just barely dodged it, watching as it hit the edge of the roof and sent a corner of concrete and brick falling to the ground several stories below.

We’re all going to die.

Alastor’s shadow did not seem to be coming back for her, which may mean he was very likely already dead.

There was no way she could fulfill her promise and keep this man away from Charlie.

But she wouldn’t die with his annoying fucking laughter ringing in her ears.

Mina felt her body morph, her hands and feet morphing into gigantic clawed paws, her face elongated into that of a hideous demonic feline predator, and took a running sprint towards the ledge of the roof.

She jumped, her front feet catching the edge, with her back feet landing between them a second later, and she kicked off with all her strength, and reached her long front legs out towards the angel.

A moment later, his laughter finally cut short as her claws and teeth found robes and flesh. Mina dug in with all her inhuman strength, and tasted the mouthwatering sweet flavor of angelic blood. But it was only a little.

In this form she would have been able to bite a Sinner clean in two but she could barely puncture his skin.

”Ow! Owww! Oww you fucking bitch! Let go of me you cunt!”

He was putting in every effort just to keep them from going into a freefall, her massive weight dragging them slowly downwards as his wings struggled to keep him airborne. Luckily for her, in his distraction, his deadly angelic weapon was forgotten as he squirmed and shrieked under her grasp.

She should have brought one of her spears, held between her teeth as she leapt, but she had been consumed with rage and exhausted from her attempt with the fire and not thinking clearly.

Even in this form, Mina was exhausted and losing her grip on Adam. He was tiny compared to her and the only thing holding her up, and she couldn’t dig her claws and teeth in like she had expected to be able to. With every difficult, struggling flap of his wings, she was jostled and slipping lower, leaving pathetic little tears in his robes as she did so.

But at least he wasn’t laughing anymore.

With some unseen strength and momentum, Adam was able to spin midair and remember his weapon, hitting her with the flat side of it and knocking the wind out of her. It didn’t slice her skin or leave any kind of lethal wound, but she still felt her ribs crack under the impossible force of it, and her grip faltered.

As she fell, she heard Charlie’s voice cry out her name. She looked up and saw Sir Pentious’s war machine being blown to bits.

She turned midair, her cat-like sense of direction instinctually kicking in and making her fall feet first. Even in the last couple seconds she had as the ground rushed towards her, she knew she wouldn’t make it through the impact in one piece. When the loan sharks had come for Mimzy, she had made the jump of just a few stories but Adam had them at a height far greater than that of the entire hotel. In all her years in Hell, she had yet to be injured bad enough to die and respawn but she thought she might get the opportunity now.

In the very last second, she saw a movement of black streaking across the ground below. It was Alastor’s shadow. It had come back for her and it was racing towards her now, putting in every bit of speed and power into reaching its form off the ground in order to stop her fall.

It reached her too late.

____

Charlie watched helpless as Mina’s leopard form hit the ground with a thunderous boom of cracking asphalt and shattering bones. She ran to her side as unconscious and near death, her body formed back into that of a petite black-haired woman, her limbs twisted unnaturally and blood pooling out from beneath her head.

She cried out Mina’s name, afraid to touch her, unaware of Vaggie covering for her and holding off more exterminators as she knelt beside her friend.

Charlie then watched as two black hands reached up from the ground and ever so tenderly wrapped themselves around Mina. A pair of glowing green eyes and an equally illuminated smile peered at the princess from behind Mina’s shoulders, and Charlie pulled away, afraid at first but then quickly understanding what was happening. She nodded to Alastor’s shadow, although it clearly wasn’t asking for her permission, and then they were both gone.

____

Alastor had stayed in his shadow realm for as long as he could allow before his shadow had dumped him in front of the ruins of his radio tower and left. He could only assume – hope – that it went to go find Mina.

Losing, especially as devastatingly as he had, had not been in the cards for him. It had been a grave miscalculation, and one he could not afford to make again. He had told Mina he had back up plans to his back up plans and that was true. A last minute escape plan for himself was something he always had in place, he just never expected to have come so close to death to have to use it.

Once inside the safety of the tower, he bent over double, coming to terms with the wound across his torso and the inevitability of what his failure meant. He was bleeding out, shivering from the chill the blood loss was causing, and wrinkling his nose at the stench of death that was surrounding him. And without him present at the battle, Charlie would go straight for Adam – and that meant Lucifer would be free to intervene.

Alastor had barely escaped with his life, but he imagined, with quite a bit of reluctance, that Lucifer would have no problems disposing of Adam. It would make him look weak and vulnerable in comparison and that would just be the start of his problems with Lucifer’s presence.

Uuggghhh

He grimaced as he pulled his hands away from the shredded remains of his jacket, taking in the bloody mess on his palms.

One problem at a time.

If only his shadow would hurry up. He could really use Mina’s help stitching up this mess.

As if on cue, he felt his shadow’s return and turned around to see the crumbled mess that was Mina’s body on the floor as his shadow remained attached to her rather than coming back to join its master.

Despite his dire wound and the dizziness brought on by a lack of blood, Alastor moved quickly, albeit clumsily, over to where Mina lay and fell to his knees in front of her.

She was a mess. Limbs twisted in unnatural angles and her hair matted with blood from a terrible wound at the side of her head. He could hear her breathing; raspy and gurgling, like each intake of air was a struggle against lungs full of blood.

His shadow stretched out beneath her and connected him to her, allowing Alastor to take full stock of her injuries.

Ankles and wrists were completely shattered. Several fractures along each long bone in her limbs. Dislocated hips and shoulders. Broken ribs with punctures lungs. But the worst was her head trauma. One temple was crushed in, causing swelling on her brain. If she were still alive . . . well, she’d be dead already. But since she was already graced by death, she would be fine. She wouldn’t even have to respawn; her body was already healing. It would take time, and she would be unconscious for the next several hours, but she would live.

Alastor felt a rage like nothing he had ever known burn up inside him. Not even when Kassandra had tortured her body and taken over her mind had he felt so insulted. Not even when he had been made to leave her for years did he feel this disgustingly helpless. For someone to encroach upon what was his in such a defiling manner went far beyond what he could tolerate.

And the very worst part about it all was that there wasn’t a God damn fucking thing he could do about it but be patient and watch over her while she healed.

Alastor brushed a lock of black hair that had come loose from her braids away from her face and let his fingers trace down her pale cheek before his hand fell away from her. As he stared down at the one precious thing he allowed himself to keep close to his heart since his mother’s death, he felt a mad sense of determination take over him.

I’m hungry for freedom like never before.

It was so clear to him now that he had made his deal in haste; that there were consequences he couldn’t have ever imagined when he had made it and now Mina was bearing the brunt of his poor decisions.

She wasn’t supposed to have happened.

Love.

It had been the last thing he had thought capable of happening to him and yet here it was, crushing him, the weight of it unbearable, and also the greatest, most wonderful part of his long and suffering existence.

He watched his shadow slink away from him and to his utter astonishment, slip inside of Mina. All at once her body seemed a little more whole, her limbs pulled back just a few more inches towards normalcy. It wasn’t just joined with her – a feat he thought it incapable of doing with anyone but himself – but it was like it was helping hold her together. Not only was the display of its power a shock to him but the fact that it was willing to do that for Mina, without Alastor commanding it to, was the biggest surprise of the day.

Even it understood the importance of her.

Well, that was . . . interesting, to say the least. Alastor wondered what the person who held his chain would have to say about that. Mina was such an integral part of his soul that even his shadow could – no, wanted ­- to be joined with her. Maybe it was part of the deal they made with each other when they were married. Or maybe it really was just the power of love. Who was to say?

When his chest wasn’t nearly ripped in half, he would allow himself a good petty laugh about that.

Take care of her.

He sent the thought towards his dark companion and stepped away to stitch himself up while he waited for her to recover. It wouldn’t do to have Mina heal and wake up to find herself a widow.

____

The first thing she was aware of was singing.

In the dark of her unconscious state, with no body to feel other than a distant dull pain, there was little else but the sound of Alastor’s voice soothing her few remaining senses and keeping her calm.

So hold your breath

And bite your tongue

My love

I will hold you til’ the morning comes

The night is young

And the darkness long

But my love

I will hold you til’ the morning comes

It was her lullaby but made anew by his unique voice and radio static affect. She tried to move towards the sweet sound of it but she remained motionless in the black. His voice was everywhere but drifting away and try as she might to strain her ears, she couldn’t triangulate which direction the singing was coming from.

Alastor.

She sent his name out into the abyss, a desperate cry for him to stay, but his voice abruptly stopped. Silence rang in her ears and the darkness swallowed her up.

_____

Pentragram City was laid out in front of her, it’s skyscrapers and city streets lit up even in the earliest hours of the morning.

The color of the red tinted city scape was exaggerated by the large glass windows she was looking through. It was a different city, and from a different vantage point, than what she was used to seeing and yet still very familiar.

This was Alastor’s radio tower. His real one.

Their home.

“What year is it?”

She heard Alastor shift behind her and turned to find him on his couch, stretched out in nothing but his bathrobe and a pair of black boxers with little red deer skulls and antlers on them. He had a book in his hands and he set it open on his chest as he looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“What a peculiar question, my love. And what are you doing up this early?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“You seem to be sleeping just fine.”

“I guess I am, but it doesn’t feel right.”

“Come here, ma cher.”

She stepped away from the window and walked over to him, her bare feet almost silent across the smooth floor. She was wearing an old pair of sleepwear she hadn’t seen in years, a button up silk shirt and matching emerald shorts. There was no wedding band on her finger and judging by the state of the city, this was either the late 1970’s or the very early 80’s.

Mina sprawled across Alastor, letting her body settle between his legs and her head on his chest as he wrapped her in his embrace and began stroking her hair.

“I miss this,” she said.

“You still have this.”

“No, it’s not the same. I miss our life. Our home.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, and she felt his chest rise and fall with a gentle sigh that betrayed his own sadness. “I suppose you’re tired of hearing me say things will work out eventually.”

She said nothing for a moment, just listened to the sound of his heart beating beneath her ears. She was tired of hearing it but she also needed his reassurance more than ever.

“I need to wake up,” she said, and tried to rise.

His arms tightened around her.

“Eventually yes. After all, company in coming. But right now you need to rest.”

“What’s going to happen next?”

“All in due time, my dear. All in due time.”

____

The darkness wasn’t as deep this time. She could make out a reddish haze and see the swirling shadows move around her. But the pain was much closer now, an ache she tried in vain to pull away from but it only made the pain bloom brighter, blinding her against all else, so she stopped trying to move.

Alastor.

She tried to scream his name and felt nothing but a breath of air escape her lips.

Hush now.

Alastor?

A deep, soft chuckle.

Yes and no.

Who are you?

I am more than Alastor. I am less than Alastor. I am him and he is me but we are not one and the same.

You’re his shadow?

Ah yes, that is what you call me. That is accurate enough for now.

I didn’t know you could talk.

I cannot. I am sending you images, feelings, . . . impressions. Your mind is turning them to words.

How?

I believe it is a consequence of being immensely . . . brain damaged. You’re hallucinating. But my presence is very real.

You’re inside of me? Why? How?

Because you need me. And he needs you. So this is where I must be.

I saw you watching us last night. While we were making love. Why were you doing that?

Another laugh.

That is what you wish to speak of while I’m keeping your brain matter from seeping out your skull like a boiling over pot of rice pudding?

It must be the brain damage.

A moment of silence and Mina thought it had left her.

I was curious.

Do you love me?

It was a childish thought and still it escaped her mind, her thoughts unable to be hidden in this in-between state.

She felt a shift in the shadows and got the impression that it was considering her question.

I alone can not feel love. Alastor loves you. I . . . am drawn to you.

Is Alastor going to die?

He is already dead.

You know what I mean!

She tried to move again, felt her face twitch, her eyebrows pinching together for a moment. She was waking up, she was almost there. The pain was unbearable but if she could just get her eyes to open-

A frustrated sigh and a force tightening around her, keeping her still and dulling her pain. It was heavy and immovable but comforting, like an infant being swaddled.

He will be there when you wake. I will be here while you sleep.

____

The sound of ocean waves came first and then the emotions; absolute bliss, happiness and peace beyond what she had ever experienced.

Mina blinked and she was lying naked on a beach, the sky a blend of deep orange at the horizon and midnight blue overhead, with a few star constellations already in view.

This was the pocket dimension Alastor had given her as a wedding gift.

Her smile split her face and she rolled onto her back, enjoying the warmth of the sand beneath her naked body, and began laughing.

She was high as a fucking kite.

Alastor shifted next to her, pressing his face into the side of hers, and kissing her cheek as he joined her in her laughter. He was as naked as she was, his body even softer and warmer than the sand.

“I want to be inside of you,” he whispered in her ears once he stopped laughing.

She remembered this night well.

1994. They had each taken a large dose of molly and laid under the stars all night. It was one of her happiest, most intimate memories of Alastor and they hadn’t even had sex that night. Just laid naked and pressed to each other, talking about how wonderful their lives were and basking in each other’s love.

She giggled some more, running her hand down the expanse of his scarred chest.

“You’re not even hard right now, love,” she teased.

“Not like that,” he said with a chuckle and a role of his eyes.

She knew what would come next, remembered this moment in perfect clarity, and let herself be completely immersed in reliving this wonderful night.

“I want to be as close to you as possible,” he said. “I never want to feel anything but you. I want you to hold me, and touch me, and surround me, and never let me go. Everything else makes me feel so poorly but not you so if I’m inside of you all the time, I’ll always feel good.”

His ineloquent words made perfect sense to her drugged-out mind. As silly as he sounded, and stupid as the dopey smile on his face was, it seemed like the sweetest thing in the world to be told.

“Then hold tight and never let me go,” she had said, rolling back over on her side to face him, curling her smaller body into his.

“I already tried that.”

His voice had lost all its joy. That wasn’t right, she didn’t remember this part.

“Alastor?” she questioned, sitting up so she could look down on him.

He sat up with her and she watched in horror as his chest began to split open, a gaping bleeding wound that looked like it would cleave him in two.

“But fret not, my love,” he said and as the words left him, stitches began to loop through his lips, pulling on his skin and making them bleed as he continued to try and speak to her. “This is not where this ends.”

____

You have a rather dark imagination.

I’ve heard that before.

I told you Alastor will be fine and yet you continue to worry.

Oh sorry, I’ll just turn off my feelings then.

You are being sarcastic.

No shit Sherlock.

Alastor often says the same thing about his feelings but I don’t think it’s with sarcasm.

That sounds like him.

You sound bitter. But it’s how he survived the last seven years.

Good for him.

There is someone else in here with us. Someone who brought you even more pain than he did.

I don’t want to talk about it.

But you’re thinking about her.

Am not.

Have it your way. I’d prefer you to stay asleep anyway.

Kinky.

There was no response except for a deeply annoyed sigh.

____

“Margarette.”

Mina turned from the waves crashing against the rocky cliffside view that had been just a short walk away from her childhood home and was surprised to find her sister standing behind her.

“You should have stayed here,” said the younger woman and Mina took a moment to study her.

They were both spitting images of their mother; hair the color of a wheatfield at sunset, sapphire blue eyes, with small rounded faces and button noses. The only feature they had inherited from their redheaded father was the smattering of freckles across their noses, cheek bones, and shoulders.

“It’s been a long time since I dreamed of you,” Mina said.  

“You ruined your life.”

“I saved my life.”

“You killed everything you ever touched.”

“Because everything that touched me wanted me dead.”

“And now you’re in Hell.”

“And now I can finally live.”

Her sister crossed her arms, a defiant and proud look to her features that Mina wanted to slap away. She never used to look at her that way. Before, her sister had always seen the best in Mina. But then they’d grown up, as only the luckiest children get to do, and her sister had found her own happiness and had no more room in her heart for Mina’s suffering.

“Why do you hate Heaven so much?” her sister asked.

“Because I love Hell.”

“Then you really are beyond saving.”

Mina stormed towards her sister, her fist clenched at her side.

“Hell gave me a life worth living. A real family that understands me and cares for me. Hell gave me love, a man who knows me for what I really am and neither fears me nor feels the need to control me. I got everything I ever wanted and never found in life when I went to Hell and all Heaven sees when they look at us down there is a threat when all we want is to be left alone!”

“Do you have any idea what will happen now? What it is you’ve started?”

Lightning flashed above them, followed by a clap of thunder that shook the ground beneath them.

They both looked up at the sky, full of angry rolling clouds that seemed to be much lower than before. They swirled and twisted, almost as if they were reaching down for them.

“Company is coming,” her sister said, looking back at her.

“I know,” Mina said, her eyes still stuck on the storm.

“They’ll choose Heaven, you do know that right? When the time comes, they’ll choose to go home.”

Mina frowned, confused at what her sister meant, but when she looked away from the clouds and back at her, she was gone.  

____

Was it worth it?

Yes.

How can you say that? Even now. We almost died.

We are already dead.

You left me.

We are here now.

What made it worth it? What was worth bargaining for that made his deal worth it?

Alastor.

I don’t understand.

Alastor was worth it.

You’re making less sense than him!

Would you have Alastor as anything more or less than what he is?

What does that have to do with his deal?

No response.

No, she finally relented.

Then you already know it was worth it.

What is going to happen now?

What has to be done.

____

Mina opened her eyes.

She blinked slowly, taking in the blurry images around her, managing to turn her head side to side despite the awful stiffness of her neck and shoulders.

Everything was a wreck. Windows shattered, furniture tossed around, large cracks ran up the wall, and everything seemed to be at the wrong angle. It made her head spin with vertigo as she tried to get her bearings.

Mina groaned as she sat up, feeling her body weak and trembling with the effort. Her bones, having freshly pulled themselves together, creaked and popped with the effort, but stayed in their proper places. Besides her splitting headache and nausea, the worst part was the stiffness. She felt like she was underwater, her limbs barely responding to the commands of her damaged nervous system, and her muscles suffering from whiplash severe enough to make her feel like she had literally been run over by a bus.

Or fallen from the sky.

“You gave me quite the fright,” Alastor’s voice called to her from across the room. She turned in that direction and saw him with his back turned to her, his jacket discarded to the side, as he seemed to be focused on something in front of him.

He glanced over his shoulder at her, just enough for her to see the glow of his eyes and the wide strain of his smile. His silhouette against the low red light coming through the window betrayed him, showing how tightly his long ears were pinned back. “How are you feeling?”

She tried to laugh and coughed instead, grimacing as the motion pulled on her still tender rib cage. “Like I could take on the world.”

His shadow pulled out from beneath her and danced across the wall as it let its master reclaim it. It connected itself at Alastor’s feet, though it stayed stretched out and visible along the floor.

Alastor turned to look at it and raised an eyebrow as if considering something it had said.

“Someone doesn’t find your sarcastic nature very amusing,” he said after a moment.

Mina slowly got to her feet, wobbling a bit and leaned on the wall for a few seconds before she righted herself.

“Funny. It seemed to me like it was having a grand ol’ time sneaking around my thoughts.”

It was then she noticed his broken microphone laying in two pieces on the floor next to him. Her head spun as she tried to make her way over to him, her concussed state struggling terribly to make sense of the tilted nature of the room they were in.

“Al’,” she choked out, stumbling towards him as she tried to process what she was seeing. “What happened. Wh-what- . . . you’re microphone . . . what does this mean?”

“I’m honestly not sure, my dear,” he said, still turned away from her. “I’ll have to deal with that later. Right now, I have a bigger, more imminent problem.”

She noticed then the severity of his tone of voice, the barely hidden pain as he spoke through gritted teeth, and the sharp intake of breath he took every few moments.

As she came around to the side of his chair, stepping carefully around his broken staff, she gasped as she took in the sight of him.

He had managed to stitch up most of it, but there was a gash from hip to opposite shoulder that looked like it went quite deep across the middle. The stitches were the same magical illuminated green as the ones she had seen on his mouth, which normally would have intrigued her more, if she wasn’t so concerned about the severity of the wound she was looking at.

Alastor allowed her to pull back his unbuttoned shirt, exposing the part of the gash high up on his shoulder that still wasn’t stitched up. Though a bit of blood was still seeping through the rest of the stitches, this part was flowing freely, soaking his shirt and leaving a wide path of red down his ribs and all the way to top of his trousers.

She met his eyes and saw the embarrassed, frantic look in them.

“I need your help,” he whispered, looking to the side in shame. “I can’t . . . I can’t reach the last part.”

“Okay,” she said softly and then gestured at his lap. “May I sit?”

His smile spread although there was still no humor in it.

“My darling, when have I ever denied you that privilege?”

Mina didn’t respond, thinking of the many times he had done just that, and took her seat, taking the needle from his hand. It shook in her grasp, either from the shock of seeing him in such a state or from her still healing concussion, she couldn’t know, but she braced the side of her hand against Alastor to steady it before threading the needling through one side of the wound to the other, pulling the green string through as she did.

Alastor hissed in pain as she did so, instinctually flinching as the string slid through his flesh.

“Sorry, love,” she said. “Pain inflicted by someone else always hurts worse than when it’s self-inflicted, so these last few stitches are going to be even more unpleasant than what you’ve already experienced.”

“Spoken like a true professional torturer.”

She side-eyed him.

“Do ya want my help?” she said, her accent unusually thick as she struggled to keep her stress at a manageable level.

His ears pinned back tighter and once again, he looked away.

“Please,” he relented.

An idea came to her then and as she cut the string and tied the stitch, she began to sing.

If you fall I’ll stand beneath you

I’ll wrap your wounds and kiss you tender

Rip my heart out still warm and beating

To place between your ribs if yours falters

Your sweet embrace

Has made a monster of me

I can not live, I can not speak

In a world where you cease to be

Can you feel me where you are

Are you torn and bleeding too

Do the skies cry wherever you’ve gone

With rain that burns, more black than blue

Well my love, what can I do

I can not save what is missing from here

I cannot die for what’s already gone

So I’ll hunt for you for many more years

My love for you

Has made a beast of me

I cannot live, I cannot breathe

In a world where you cease to be

Your love for me

Has left this creature in me

It cannot live, it will not leave

In this world where you’ve ceased to be

She tied the last stitch and used a rag to clean away most of the blood from his skin, though some of it was so dried she decided to leave it for now, rather than risk pulling on the stitches in an effort to rub away the little mess left behind.

Once she was done, Mina leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the now closed wound, feeling the stiches poke at her lips as she did so.

Alastor blinked, coming out of the lull she had sung him into, and tilted his head at her.

“What was that for?” he asked and she smiled at him.

“Kissing it to make it better,” she teased.

“That can’t be sanitary.”

Mina reached a hand behind his head and pulled his forehead down as she leaned forward and kissed him between the eyes. His body was stiff against her, the large stitched up wound making any kind of movement of his torso difficult, but he leaned into her embrace as much as he could.

She felt her chin begin to quiver as she held him. Now that she no longer had a task to focus on, the dam she had built up around her emotions was threatening to break.

Mina had never seen Alastor so defeated; so broken and near death. It frightened her, and what was worse was that she could see that paralyzing fear reflected back at her whenever she looked at him.

He was scared. She didn’t even know Alastor could be scared.

No one had ever managed to hurt him like this, at least not that she knew of. But here he was in her arms, barely having escaped being killed by a hair. His body nearly as cut in half as his microphone was.

The first sob broke free and Alastor brought a hand to her back, pulling her head towards his uninjured shoulder.

“Mina.” His tone was low as he said her name, free of the static and the accent he used to cover up his natural voice. “Mo chagren, ma cher.” I’m sorry, my dear. “You were never supposed to get hurt.”

She shook her head slightly, sniffing back her tears, and pressed her face into the fabric of his shirt.

“What about you? That weapon of Adam’s, what did it do to you?”

“Nothing I won’t recover from, I promise.” His voice was back to his normal radio persona and she felt his shields sliding into place, hiding away his vulnerable state, even from her.

She sat back and frowned at him.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she said, repeating his own words from the night before.

Mina didn’t like the look in his eyes. There was still so much fear there, and desperation, and a deep seeded rage that she knew she could only see the surface of. She had never seen him in such a state; not when he had his panic attack over her leaving him, not when Kassandra had nearly ruined her, and not even when he and Vox’s friendship fell apart.

“Oh, but I can assure you,” he said, his red eyes flashing brighter at her. “My every move from here on out will be figuring out a backdoor to my deal. It’ll set us both free of my mistakes. And after that, I will be the one pulling all the strings. You’ll see.”

His shadow stretched up along the wall, its face eager and claws stretched out long in anticipation. Mina looked at it and then back at Alastor and was reminded of the unease she had felt around him when they had first met. It wasn’t quite fear, but there was a level of apprehension growing in her chest as she pondered for the first time since his return, what his intentions going forward really were.

“Alastor, I just want you safe. As long as you’re here with me, I don’t care about the rest.”

He frowned at her, almost looking disgusted and moved to stand so she removed herself from his lap and let him walk away from her.

“You still don’t understand, but that’s okay, you will. You’ll see.” He was pacing now, agitated and still clearly in pain. His hand kept coming up to rub at the stitches and Mina realized she still needed to put bandages on it, but that thought was quickly pushed aside as she became more and more concerned about Alastor’s mental state.

“I want to. I’m trying to, love. Please don’t push me away right now.”

He turned and looked at her, still scowling but his smile stretched even wider when his eyes landed on hers.

Mina felt a coolness wrap around her shoulders and turned her head to see his shadow’s face next to hers, its long fingers caressing her skin as it smiled at her.

“Push you away?” he questioned and then laughed a dry, sardonic laugh that chilled her. “My darling wife, you and I are closer than we’ve ever been. And that’s good. We can use that to our benefit.”

His eyes narrowed and he tilted his head, studying her expression and clearly not liking what he saw there.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” she asked, her voice small.

“Like you’re afraid of me! Don’t . . . do not do that. Not now. Please, Mina- ”

His voice cracked and suddenly he was back in front of her, holding her again and she couldn’t bring herself to pull away. She wasn’t scared of him, was she? How could she be scared of him when her instincts still told her to embrace him, to run her fingers through his hair like she was doing, to let him pull her in for a passionate, needful kiss like he was. She couldn’t fear what she still so desperately loved. Could she?

“I need you,” he said as he finally pulled away, allowing her a chance to catch her breath after such an intense kiss. “I love you.” His fingers tenderly traced the side of her head beneath her ears, where there was still a painful knot of swelling. His eyes followed the path of his fingers, shining brightly with a storm of emotions she couldn’t quite decipher.

“I love you, too. Of course I do. I love you more than anything. Come on, let’s finish getting you bandaged up, okay? We can talk about this later.” She was rubbing his arms, trying to soothe him, but he still looked like he was on the verge of panic.

“The hotel . . .” he tried to speak but instead all that came out with the tuning sound of a radio, the sound Mina had grown accustomed to hearing from him rather than answers or explanations. Whatever he was trying to tell her just now, he wasn’t allowed to. He sighed hard enough to raise his shoulders and then flinched from the pain the movement caused him. “Whatever I do next, it’ll be worth it. I swear. Charlie- ”

He was silenced by static again and she felt him tense beneath her hands.

“Ssshhh,” she said, her heart beating hard in her chest even as she continued to try and sooth him.

“Whatever comes next, whatever you find out, whatever I have to do- ”

“Alastor, please stop- ”

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m not. Sweetheart, I love you. Please sit down.”

“I will never hurt you. Please don’t be afraid of me.”

Mina paused, her mind sticking on the way he had emphasized his word choice.

He would never hurt her.

An idea came to her then and she wondered if she suddenly understood the source of his anxiety.

There were other people wrapped up in this that she cared about. Charlie, Angel Dust, Vaggie, Sir Pentious, and even Cheri Bomb. She actually liked them, respected them, and cared about them. They had become a part of her found family, as much as her friends from The Pit were. And she had suspected that Alastor was starting to feel the same. She knew he cared most for Niffty and far more for Husk than he would ever let on, but she had hoped he felt the same about the others. But what if he didn’t?

What if he thought they were worth disposing of, making collateral damage of, if it meant getting what he wanted?

What if, as much as she loved Alastor, The Radio Demon became the enemy of the people she cared about?

Could she stand by and let it happen?

What if it wasn’t fear for herself that she was feeling, but fear for others?

Alastor was right. He could tell she was afraid, even before she did.

She swallowed, telling herself she was jumping to conclusions, and made herself come back to the present moment.

Mina smiled weakly up at him and took his hand.

“I know you would never hurt me. Please, just calm down. Let me bandage you up, okay?”

He didn’t look completely convinced but he did finally do as she asked and sat back down in his chair and let her fret over his physical state for both their sakes.

As much as she tried to focus on what she was doing, Mina’s mind kept running away from her.

She knew this man. He was a killer, a powerful demon with a temper, yes, but she had also never seen him truly harm anyone that either of them cared about. Only people that they were convinced deserved it and she had reveled in being in proximity to that kind of power for so long she had forgotten what it was like to be on the wrong side of it.

Not to mention that for 70 years she had been kept blind to the fact that he had sold his soul.

And she had seen him use people as a means to his own ends before.

This new reality she was facing with Alastor was different from anything she could have prepared herself for. He was still her husband, still the same man that could make the rest of the world melt away with his embrace. And she believed him when he said he would never do anything to hurt her. Every part of him cherished her. Only her. And that might finally become a problem.

Because The Radio Demon?

The most powerful Overlord in Hell, now chained and gagged, having danced with death and barely made it out alive?

Mina couldn’t imagine a more unpredictable and dangerous beast.

Author’s Note: And that’s a wrap! Thank you to everyone who has followed along with this series. I know OC’s aren’t very popular fanfic reads but every single person who supported this story, both on AO3 and Tumblr, meant the world to me. Thank you for every kudo, like, reblog, and comment you all left me. I know season 2 feels like forever from now but I promise I will be back with the next installment after it comes out. I already have tons of ideas and a feeling for where I want to take Mina and Alastor’s story next, and I’m not afraid to break canon to do it, but I also want to see where Season 2 takes us before I solidify any plans. In the meantime, please enjoy a couple of bonus chapters I have coming out soon and check out my other Alastor x Reader stories. They were all pretty much inspired by ideas for this fic that I couldn’t quite fit into the narrative, but if you enjoy Mina x Alastor, you will like those stories as well.

@saccharine-nectarine @whoknowswhoiamtoday @redvexillum @visara-valentina @reath-solia

[hannahhook7744]

Disney Descendants Random Headcanons (Part 1);

(No Kids/some kids Born Pre D1 Addition since I don't have the full list yet).

Let me Know if I'm missing any characters because I'm well aware I'm missing more than a few.

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

Akio (number 42): He is the son of Tomiko (from Elena of Avalor).

Ally: Her dad is Pinocchio, making Pin her younger brother.

Amber Dearly: She's a waitress but still does beauty pageant events when they're in season.

Anthony Tremaine: Jacob Lathyn (The Baker from Cinderella 2) is his dad.

Anxelin Fitzherbert: She's Goth.

Arabella: She's morally gray (and had ill intentions when she stole her granddad's trident).

Ariana Rose: Grows less jealous of Audrey over time and cuts contact with their grandmother. Is very popular in college.

Artie Pendragon: Somehow ends up with a pet dragon. No one knows how it happened.

Audrey Rose: Goes on to be the CEO she always wanted to be.

Aziz: He takes after his mother in looks and personality.

Bashful Jr.: He goes by Bash and is very popular in school.

Beezlebub (The Cat): Beelzebub is the Lucifer's least favorite kitten.

Ben: Likes building miniature models and wanted to be in a band with Ben and Lonnie when he was a kid.

Big Murph: He lost his eye as a kid when rough housing with the Gaston Twins.

Bobby Hood: He's Tiger Peony's boyfriend and a sports commentator at school.

Bobby Radcliffe: is a good friend of Artie Pendragon and is very shy.

Bonny: Is the medic of Uma's crew.

Carina Potts: Wears a cooking pot as a hat.

Carlos de Vil: He becomes Henry's mentor and gets Beelzebub back.

Carter: The 'nice' twin.

Celia Facilier: Goes on to be a very successful business woman (in whatever you think she'd go on to do).

Chaca: She's Li Shang Jr's girlfriend and Kuzco is very protective of her, much to her and his wife's bemusement.

Chad Charming: Redeems himself sometime after d3 and leaves to find himself.

Cheerful: Is emo.

Chip Potts: Babysat Ben a lot when he was younger. Has 13 siblings. He works at the castle.

Chloe Charming: Learned a lot of what she knows in ROAR from Lonnie.

Claudine Frollo: She had red hair and is left handed.

Clay Clayton: He's a party animal and is very hard to take out in a fight.

Crabby: is actually quite pleasant to be around.

Crocodile Descendants: They love tormenting Captain Hook and wrestling.

Cubby: He handles Neverland Academy's finances.

Danny Darling-Cooper: He's good at tourney and ROAR.

Derek: He's a selective mute and carries a bell around to get his friends' attention when they're arguing.

Derelict (Electric Eel): He's the friendly eel.

Desiree: She's one of the most wild pirate kids. Even when compared to her crewmates.

Diego de Vil: His most popular song is titled 'Kill the Beast'.

Dhandi: Is Jordan's adoptive older sister (since Eden is Jordan's bio mom).

Dizzy Tremaine: She joins Evie's business when she graduates and her jewelry becomes very popular.

Doc II: Goes by Raphael.

Doug: Evie helps him meet his favorite band (The Dragon Players) on his 21st birthday.

Dude (The Dog): He is jealous of Beelzebub.

Eddie Balthazar: He is always tired.

Eliza: She becomes more of a rebel as she grows up and is always backing Jane up when FG gets difficult (like most parents do).

Elle: She's adopted.

Emir (number 26): He's Aziz's younger brother and is a lot like his dad, personality wise. He does not like his mom's cousins.

Evie: She is Dizzy's half sister.

Finn the Mer-Boy: He works at neverland academy but also remains as Neverland's Protectors (kicking entitled tourist out when they cause too much non fun trouble/damage).

Freddie Facilier: Is banned from being alone with Jordan because those two are just as bad as Ally and Cj when alone together.

Gaston Jr.: He relates a lot to Luisa Madrigal. He also walks with a limp after a failed escape attempt he and his father attempted (he nearly drowned).

Gaston The 3rd.: He's the smart twin.

Gesundheit: Cannot for the life of him spell his name.

Gil: Has stolen a penguin from the zoo with Jay, Chad, Harry, and Carlos before.

Ginny Gothel: Is allergic to flowers. Her middle name is flower.

Gordon: Is a mechanic.

Hadie: Has a villain phase as a teen that no one takes seriously.

Hamish of DunBroch: He works with bears.

Hana: She is the royal party planner in her kingdom.

Hap: He's a hippie/hipster mixture and has a van he customized himself.

Harriet Hook: She has a hip high rose tattoo and broke Anthony Tremaine's nose once when she was 12.

Harris of DunBroch: Will not hesitate to bite people in fights even as an adult.

Harry Badun: He is a detective and has made it his job to make everyone behind the isle and every bad isle adult's lives hell. He will also make up outrageous theories to mess with people he doesn't like.

Harry Hook: Is good at art and has Dyscalculia.

Henry: He's a long lost de Vil.

Herkie: He has his dad's personality and strength but his mama's brain and kinda looks like a blend of his parents.

Hermie Bing: She has a variety of circus related skills, loves clowns, has a sweet tooth, and wears very colorful clothes.

Hubert of DunBroch: Loves reminding his sister of how she turned him into a bear all the time.

Hunter de Vil: His influencer career takes off when the barrier is brought down.

Ivy de Vil: She's allergic to hair dye and becomes a great model when off the isle.

Izzy: She's ROAR instructor at Neverland Academy.

Jace Badun: His mom was a strong woman at the Ringmaster's circus. He is the most exasperated person you will ever meet.

Jack/Korak: He prefers 'Korak' over Jack. He takes after his dad looks wise but his mom personality and fashion wise.

Jade: She has tons of scars from the crocodile wrestling.

Jake: Because of him, Princess Pirate, Finn, Stormy, Marina, Izzy, and Cubby all grew up.

James Brown Jr.: He works at a candy shop.

Jane: She's a big gossip and she and Carlos both bonded over this.

Jane Darling-Cooper: She's a teaching assistant at Neverland Academy.

Jay: He sleeps with a stuffed tiger but will deny it if asked.

Jenna: She's Aziz's oldest sibling and is the heir to the throne. She has a pet Elephant.

Jonas: He's Uma's cousin.

Jordan: She's the one who created the secret Agrabah Club at school (along with Aziz).

La Foux Doux: He's younger than LeFou Deux and loves puppet shows.

Lagan (Electric Eel): He's the mean eel.

LeFou Deux: He has a crush on Claudine and is the isle's Santa Claus.

Li (number 85): His parents took creative liberty with his name without checking to see if that spelling already existed.

Li Lonnie: She does eventually get her show. Her successful ROAR career probably helped (: .

Li Shang Jr: His music is decent but few people take him seriously because of the whole 'Lil Shang' nickname thing.

Lil Yaz: He died of appendicitis after d1. He was morally grey/apathic and had eyes for Quinlynn Hearts.

Lina: Jasmine was her favorite babysitter and she in turn, ended up babysitting the younger of Jasmine's kids when she was in Agrabah.

Lucifer: Lucifer often escapes from the saloon and gets on everyone's nerves.

Lulu Brown: She's much younger than her brother, Jim/James Brown Jr. and is a very good at ballet.

Mad Maddy: She has quite the sweet tooth.

Madam Mim's granddaughters: No one is sure how many there are or how they came to be.

Maddox Hatter: He's an inventor and is very close to Red.

Mal: She grows up a lot after the royal wedding and gets back in touch with her artistic side.

Marina the Mermaid: She's the swim coach at Neverland Academy.

Marya Rasputin: She's the doctor of Harriet's crew.

Max La Bouf: He works at Tiana's palace and often caters the events for his family and Ralphie's.

Melody: She's an environmental activist and the go-to cousin everyone talks to when they need someone who will hear them out.

Meriem: She and Korak are married now, and she's very into learning languages.

Mia: She is a sore loser when it comes to the fashion industry.

Miguel (number 44): He's a Madrigal.

Morgie le Fay: Morgie is just a nickname.

Opal: She's Freddie and Celia's aunt.

Othello (The Parrot): He repeats the things EQ used to say to Evie but is a very loving pet otherwise.

Pin: He's very smart and skipped a grade.

Pirate Kitty (Cat): It's Gil's pet cat (seen in a missing poster in d2).

Princess Pirate: Her friends now call her 'Princess' for short.

Quinlynn Hearts: She's the oldest Heart child and she had a crush on LIl Yaz.

Rafi: He gets along the best with his younger brother, Aziz, and works in the royal guard now.

Ralphie: He and Max are Pen Pals.

Rami: He's a party animal.

Red Hearts: Red is just a nickname. She's also in the school newspaper.

Reza: He is very interested in forensics and was adopted by Mozenrath and Sadira. He has two younger siblings and one older.

Rick Ratcliffe: His middle name is 'Perseus'. Yes, after the pug. And he has a habit of saving people from drowning/bodies of water.

Ruby Fitzherbert: She's shy and artsie.

Salima: She's a middle child now.

Sammy Smee: He's an inventor and a book worm.

Scarlet: She's Carter's twin and is considered the 'evil' twin.

Shy: His name is very fitting because he really is shy.

Sleepy Jr.: He's a gamer.

Snoozy: Snoozy is a night owl.

Sophie: She's Snow White's eldest child.

Spotted Hyenas: They like tormenting Gaston but not his kids.

Squeaky Smee: He's a selective mute.

Squirmy Smee: He and his brother look up to Harry a lot.

Stabbington cousins: They're only known by their nicknames by those outside of their family (and for good reason, since they're secretly Westergaards).

Stormy The Mermaid: She becomes a hippie when's older and mellows out.

The Sea witches: They're the daughters of Ursula's sisters.

The Tweedledum and Tweedledee cousins: They all have varying shades of red hair.

The Wicked Step-Granddaughters: The seven that are Drizella's are Hans' daughters as well. If any are Anastasia's, they're adopted.

Tiger Peony: She's a hippie vegetarian who's really into Tourney but doesn't play.

Tipo: He learns to cook from Kronk and helps him out with  Camp Chippamunka during the summer when he's older.

Tyrone (number 32): He's Tiana and Naveen's son. Lotte spoiled him, lol.

Uma: She gets her OWN sea phonies after d3 and she keeps her shark friends as well.

William (number 12): Wendy's oldest son and Jane Darling's younger brother.

Yi-Min: She's good at tourney as well as Swords and Shields.

Yupi: He is Kuzco's favorite 'nephew'.

Yzla: She's good at gymnastics.

Zam: He is the oldest of the kids in Yzma's family and has also caught his cousins doing weird things most often.

Zellie: She's the oldest of Flynnpunzal's kids.

Zephyr: His skin gets a bit darker as he grows up.

Zevon: His dad (and his siblings' dad) is Cedric from Sofia the first. His mom also accidentally turned him into a llama as a baby.

Zim: He still practices chemistry but the idea of being evil bores him.

[deirdreei]

(555) 654-3210

Pairings: Aged up!Katsuki Bakugo x fem!Reader

Note: title is not an actual phone number. It's made up to be Y/n's number. Both characters are aged up in their 20's. Bakugo is 26 and she's 25.

Description: During a sticky situation, his wonderful memory saves him, but at a unfortunate cost. You arise in his mind, someone he had successfully avoided for years even after his time with you at U.A.

Part two here soon

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Bakugo had only three numbers committed to memory: his mother’s, his father’s, and yours. The only reason yours made the list was a school project back in his second year at U.A.—an assignment from Aizawa that he’d written off as pointless. Yet, no matter how much time passed, he could never seem to forget it, maybe he took his school work a little too seriously.. but right now it didnt matter.

Bakugo knew only one number that he could call and would be able to help him—Y/n L/n. The moment your name surfaced in his mind, his expression darkened, jaw tightening as a deep scowl settled on his face. His fingers curled into fists at his sides, knuckles whitening with restrained frustration. Maybe it's his fault for refusing to bother with his friends contact information, hell.. he barely had anybody else saved in his contacts except for Kirishima and his Sensei's from highschool.

He couldn't call his mom or dad, he would be putting them in danger. The toxic feums released from the villain he'd been chasing were spreading through the rundown bathroom. He was angry at himself for letting his pride and ego be the mainspring for his predicament currently.

Awkward. No—beyond awkward. Frustrating, irritating, humiliating, a complete waste of time, and entirely unnecessary. His pride bristled at the thought of asking for your help, but deep down, he knew there was no way around it. Of course he knew calling you would save-

Steam was practically smoking out his ears at the thought of you "saving" him.

Because Bakugo Katsuki shouldn't have to be saved, he's the one doing the saving.

With a sharp exhale, Bakugo raked a hand through his hair, his fingers briefly tugging at the strands in frustration. His scowl deepened, and without another thought, he turned on his heel. The heavy soles of his boots thudded against the floor tiles as he paced back and forth, each step radiating irritation.

The disappearing cool air being replaced by a foul smell of toxic particles did little to cool his temper. His muscles were taut, his shoulders squared, and his hands remained clenched at his sides.

This was going to be a damn headache.

He didn’t really have a choice. His pride was a burning weight in his chest, but it was either swallow it whole and dial your damn number—the one that had been etched into his brain since that stupid project—or descend down a rabbit hole of more bullshit, more frustration, and possibly his death from the villians quirk, the same villian he failed to outsmart. The latter sounded far worse, but the idea of calling you made his stomach churn, his jaw clenching involuntarily.

He was so concerned about bringing you into his life again, he'd forgotten the disappointment he'd felt when he got trapped in the bathroom. He not only felt bad for making Kirishima chase the villains by himself, he was embarrassed? No, just bothered that he left himself get trapped because of lack of sleep. His fault. But now his mind was occupied with you. He couldn't make Kirishima come get him, and he needed to get out as soon as possible before the room was consumed by toxin, and reinforcement always dilly dallies. Would he die because he was "scared" to call you? Absolutely the fuck not.

His eyes narrowed at the thought of it, fingers hovering over the phone. He stared at the screen for a few long seconds, as if daring it to mock him. It wasn’t even that he wanted to ask for help—hell, he hated it. But there was no way around it. This was the lesser evil.

This wasn’t how he wanted to spend his night. He didn’t have time for this. Was he weak for being afraid to call you? He refused to admit it, but deep down, there was an undeniable sense of hesitation gnawing at him. Was he ashamed? No. After everything that had happened—and what he did—he had every right to be angry. He could deny all he wanted that it was his fault for the awkward relationship the two of you now share, but a gnawing sense of guilt lingered in the pit of his stomach, stoking the flames of embarrassment he wasn’t used to feeling.

Bakugo Katsuki didn’t get embarrassed. That wasn’t him. He was supposed to be untouchable, invincible—never second-guessing, never feeling small. But right now, with his fist hovering over the phone, all he could think about was how much he didn’t want to swallow his pride and ask you for help. It was infuriating. He was so damn mad about it, and not just because he was in a corner (literally trapped)—he was pissed because, for the first time in a long time, something had gotten under his skin. Lacking during a villians chase, and a compliment past with you that for some reason made his heart hurt. But he still assumed it was because he hated you. (Not really though...)

Bakugo groaned, muttering curses under his breath as he opened his phone app. His fingers moved with frustrating precision as he typed in your number: 555-654-3210. He stared at it for a moment, his pulse quickening with each passing second. This was ridiculous. He wasn’t a wimp. If he needed something, he wouldn’t be afraid to ask for it, no matter how awkward or uncomfortable it was.

Toxin filling the room every passing second was more important than his feelings- cough, sorry.. hatred for you.

He hit the call button with a little too much force, as though he could somehow channel his anger into making the phone call less humiliating. His thoughts screamed at him—this was high school nonsense, you’re not that guy anymore,—but even as he tried to convince himself, the familiar knot of discomfort twisted in his stomach. High school Bakugo, the one who was an even bigger hothead, would have never admitted to needing anyone, let alone you. But here he was, phone pressed to his ear, waiting for you to pick up.

Bakugo slumped against the nasty bathroom wall, legs sprawled out in front of him. He was hyper-focused on the ringing sound that seemed to echo in his mind, his thoughts a jumbled mess of frustration and reluctance.

"Hello?" Your voice, calm and smooth, broke through the noise of his mind like a soft breeze.

He sat up straight, his body snapping to attention as if jolted by an invisible force. His heart skipped a beat, thumping painfully in his chest as he tried to steady his breathing. He felt his heart hurt, like when it skips a beat during battle when hes actually in fear. What the hell? He wasn’t scared of you. He wasn’t. So why the hell was he suddenly sweating more than usual, like the heat of his quirk was running wild inside of him? His palms were damp, gripping the edge of his desk with a fierceness that almost made the wood creak under his hold.

He placed his phone down on his thigh after putting it on speaker, and for a moment, he couldn’t bring himself to look away. Why were his palms so damn sweaty? No way was he actually nervous hearing your voice. It had been years—he’d moved on, he was sure of it. But the moment he heard you on the other end, something in him shifted. He felt a strange, tight sensation in his chest, the way you used to make him feel. That quietness. And God did he miss hearing you, your calm voice so smooth. He didn't want to sound cheesy, and the only way he knew how to describe how giddy you made him feel sometimes was just by saying it's you. You, who was important to him once, and even now even though he's been denying it after years of ignoring you.

He pretended the only reason his body reacted this way to you was because he'd let you in, but that doesn't mean it's important what he's feeling now.

He hadn’t even planned what he was going to say. Usually, he didn’t bother with that—he never needed to. He was Bakugo Katsuki, after all, and people listened. But this was you. You, with that smooth, feminine voice that had always somehow disarmed him. He didn’t realize how much he’d missed it until now.

The time read 10:32 p.m., the digital numbers glowing faintly in the dim light. He should have been asleep by now, the exhaustion pulling at his limbs, but life never seemed to cooperate. He ran a hand through his messy blonde hair, frustrated that this, of all things, had become such a complicated topic in his mind. You weren’t special. No, you weren’t.

The silence in his room felt suffocating as he tried dismissing any crazy thoughts he had of you, not dirty but too cheesy for his liking. This wasnt him, he didnt and never had any feelings for anybody including you. He swore on that long ago when he pushed you away.

"Helloooo? Person who called me? I’m hanging upppp," you cooed through the phone, the playful lilt in your voice almost too sweet for him to handle. Right, you still dont know its him calling. He doubt you had him saved anymore.

A soft shuffle of movement came through the line from your end, and Bakugo’s hand gripped the inside of his gauntlets, his fingers digging into his winter sleeves as his jaw clenched in frustration.

"Shit, um… This is Dynamight," he growled, his voice rough, a deep annoyance bubbling up in his chest. He wasn’t even sure why he was angry—this was nothing, just a small interaction, and yet it felt like the entire world was against him. His eyes narrowed at the phone, the glowing screen mocking him as he tried to wrangle control of the situation, but the words were already out, slipping from him with an edge of irritation he couldn’t quite suppress.

"Bakugo? Hey, um, this is a surprise. Thought you made it a promise to ignore me forever," you laughed lightly, the playful mocking tone in your voice causing his face to flush, even in the quiet of his dimly lit room. It was a jab at the last words he’d ever spoken to you, words that still lingered in his mind like a bad taste. He groaned, his frustration spilling out in an annoyed, low sound that echoed in the empty room.

He threw his head back, the movement sharp and agitated, as if the action might somehow rid him of the memory. His hand instinctively moved through his messy, spiked hair, pushing it back in a futile attempt to calm the storm brewing inside him. The sensation of that last moment with you—so vivid, so fresh in his mind—flooded back with a brutal clarity.

If he could take it back… he thought, but before he could entertain the idea for too long, his pride clamped down on the thought. He couldn’t. No matter how much that memory gnawed at him, he wasn’t about to admit he was ever that much of an embarrassing high schooler. His pride was a fortress, and there was no room for weakness inside it.

"Yeah, yeah, grow up," Bakugo muttered gruffly, his words falling out in a jumble as he fumbled for a response that didn’t make the conversation feel more awkward than it already was. He could practically hear the mocking tone of your voice, and it made his teeth clench.

"Isn't it past your bedtime?" you whispered teasingly through the phone. His frustration spiked immediately, and he growled, the sound guttural and raw, as if he were struggling to contain a fire that threatened to consume him.

"Shut up. I called to ask you a favor..." he snapped, his words sharp, reluctant. The phrase tasted bitter on his tongue. Asking for favors wasn’t something he did—especially not from you. But there it was. He had already decided. He was an adult now, damn it. Matured. He shouldn’t let any of the past drama cloud whatever he needed to say or ask.

"Mhm, okay, go ahead," you said, your voice light, though the sound of shuffling and the faint meow of a cat echoed through the phone, only adding to the tension in his chest. He remembered you loved cats.

He took a deep breath, his chest expanding with the effort to calm himself. He needed to sound collected, like this wasn’t some ridiculous mess he’d gotten himself into. "I—fuck. I need you to help me. Im stuck in a public bathroom in Musa and toxic fumes are filling the room. Some type of poisonous flower is releasing them. I was chasing a villian with Red Riot and I got... trapped." The words spilled out more reluctantly than he had planned, and he sighed heavily, bracing for the inevitable teasing or mockery. His brows furrowed, lips curling slightly in irritation as he waited for you to say something that would only make him feel more exposed.

For a moment, silence stretched on the other end of the line. His eyes narrowed, muscles tense, his expression tight as he stared at the phone, as if willing you to respond. But when you finally did, the sound of your laughter hit him unexpectedly.

You laughed for a moment, a light, almost melodic sound, and Bakugo’s face twisted in confusion, the irritation melting into something more bewildered. What the hell? Was she actually laughing?

"And you didnt start with that? God your such an idiot, that ego of yours never died down did it." you said between your chuckles, your voice dripping with amusement. It took him a second to process what was happening. You weren’t mocking him—at least, not in the way he had expected. You were just... laughing. And it threw him off more than he cared to admit.

"Sure, Bakugo. I'll come help you," you said casually, and for a split second, Bakugo wasn’t sure he’d heard you right. She was coming to him.

She was coming to him. As in she was on her way to him right now.

The thought made his brow twitch in irritation. He wasn’t some helpless kid who needed everything handed to him.

"Next time dont delay" you added quickly, as if sensing his rising frustration. "I’m going to help you but then I gotta leave. I’m conveniently in the neighborhood. Lucky you?"

Two knocks echoed from the bathroom door, crisp and unmistakable. "You gotta be shitting me. I should've picked death," he muttered under his breath, voice thick with irritation. His mind raced as he shoved the phone into his pocket, a mix of disbelief and reluctant acceptance swirling in his chest.

He hastily stood up from the floor. His heavy boots thudded across the floor as he stormed toward the front door, his movements quick, almost too fast. The short distance felt even narrower as he approached, the air thick with the impending encounter... and toxic fumes.

"You need to smash all the gunk the villian sealed the door with, I wasn't able to do it from inside," he growled. Fingers fiddling with each other as sweat built up. The room felt hot, and this time it was because the fumes were starting to make his ears ring and his skin itch.

"Alright, one second," she spoke, followed by the sound of her shoes stomping against the floor and splashing voices. Her voice being so close to him after all this time, only being separated by a godamn door... had he made a mistake? No, embarrassment isn't worth dying over.

"Okay, I think they're all smushed-" Reaching the door, he flung it open with a snap before she could finish her sentence, the hinges creaking in protest. There you were, standing right before him, except you didn't have that all-too-familiar teasing smile on your face like he remembered. You both stared at each other, and for a moment, he couldn’t help but notice how much smaller you seemed than him. Even after all this time, the height difference still felt striking.

Then he started coughing and remembered the poison flower. He quickly shuffled out the bathroom and slammed the door back shut, and he hastily itched his skin before holding his ears shut. The ringing brought from the certain toxins were still affecting him.

He felt her put her hand on his back, patting him softly as he doubled over and his knees hitting the stone floor.

"Bakugo how long were you in there? Idiot, oh my gosh hold on. Is reinforcement on there way? What even happened?" She spoke quickly, but he could barely hear her as the ringing intensified. He never pictured meeting you for the first time in years going like this, not that he pictured a re-encounter with you at all (of course he did, multiple times)

He looked up to get one look at you again, though his vision was blurring and before he knew it-

He woke up in a shock, sitting up faster then he went down in the hospital bed. He looked around, rubbing his eyes to reveal Kirishima sitting in a sidechair with a more than happy smile being flashed.

His gaze darted around the stark white room, the sterile scent of antiseptic and medication instantly familiar—and unwelcome. The beeping of nearby monitors only added to his irritation. With a groan, he dragged a hand through his hair, only to pause when he felt the damp strands clinging to his fingers. Wet? His scowl deepened.

"The hell? Shitty Hair, what happened?" Bakugo muttered, his voice rough from disuse as he slouched forward, trying to steady the whirlwind of confusion in his head. One second, he had been with you—then, nothing. Now he was here, trapped in a damn hospital bed. His mind scrambled to fill in the blanks. He remembered the villain chase, the poisonous flower, the suffocating bathroom, and the worst part—you saving him. But after that? Nothing. His jaw tightened, frustration simmering beneath his skin. He needed answers. The mere thought of needing to be saved was already pissing him off.

"The toxin got into your system, but luckily L/n got there before it could do any real damage," Kirishima explained, leaning forward in his chair. "I spoke with the doctor, and he said you just need some meds for about a week, and you’ll be back to normal. Sorry I left you there, man, but the villain—"

"No, it’s fine," Bakugo cut in, his voice firm despite the lingering grogginess. He exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face. "I felt better knowing someone was still chasing that bastard." His crimson eyes flickered with irritation. "I’m asking what happened after I blacked out."

Kirishima rubbed the back of his neck, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. "Oh, right. Honestly, I was kinda surprised to see you with L/n. It’s been years since you two cut ties, man. Good thing she was around, or else—"

"I would’ve found a way out either way," Bakugo snapped, his tone sharp enough to cut through steel.

Kirishima put his hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright, I believe you. Just saying, do you wanna know where she is now or—"

"No." The answer came quick, laced with irritation, but even Bakugo knew he wasn’t as sure as he wanted to be. His exhaustion made it harder to cling to his anger.

"Okay, man, but you’ve gotta stop—WOAH, BAKUBRO, SIT DOWN!"

Kirishima’s alarmed shout barely registered before Bakugo threw off the sheets and pushed himself up—only for the world to tilt beneath him. His vision blurred at the edges, and his knees buckled slightly, forcing him to grip the bed for stability. He grit his teeth, frustration burning through his veins. He wanted to bark out "Shut up, Shitty Hair, I’m fine!" but even he wasn’t dumb enough to believe that right now.

And worse? He wasn’t just trying to push past the weakness in his body—he was trying to outrun the damn thoughts in his head. He wanted to forget he let a villian outbest him because he was lacking sleep, forget tosay even happend. Forget the way his stomach twisted when he heard your voice. Forget that you had come for him without hesitation. But the aching in his head and heart wouldn't let him.

For years, it had been easier to ignore you since he'd forgotten your voice after years of no contact. But now? Now, you were back in his head, and he was in deeper shit than he wanted to admit.

"Whatever. Forget about her. Where’s the damn meds? I’m going home—I need sleep. I have patrol in the morning," Bakugo muttered, standing still for a moment before forcing his legs to move toward the door. His movements were slow, deliberate. If he paced himself, he was sure he could make it home without collapsing like a damn weakling.

He was done admitting he needed help. Because look at the mess that got him into.

Kirishima sighed but didn’t argue. "Alright, man, I know there’s no stopping you. But at least let me drive you home—my offer." His voice was steady, laced with quiet concern, as he grabbed the prescription bag with Bakugo’s name on it. Without waiting for a response, he stepped forward and pushed the door open.

"I can open a door!" Bakugo snapped, scoffing as Kirishima just grinned. He hated how unfazed his friend was by his sharp tone—hated it and, at the same time, appreciated it more than he’d ever admit. One thing he’d done right was keeping Kirishima as a friend, even if, in the beginning, it hadn’t exactly been by choice.

"Here we go!" Kirishima said cheerfully, guiding him toward the exit.

Bakugo groaned, the sound bordering on a growl. He was stubborn, fiercely independent—always had been. But right now, with his body still weakened and his pride already taking too many hits, he knew he’d have to grit his teeth and accept help.

Just until he got better. Then he’d be back to handling things on his own.

---

"Wow, did you get taller?" she teased, her laughter light as she glanced past him, taking in his apartment with quiet curiosity.

Bakugo scoffed, crossing his arms. "Or maybe you’re just shrinking with age."

She snapped her head toward him, mouth agape. "I’m literally the same age as you!" she shot back, her playful gasp exaggerated.

"Can’t tell the difference," he muttered, stepping aside to let her in. She rolled her eyes but walked in anyway, her steps slow, measured, as if taking in more than just his home.

She wasn’t wearing her hero costume. She’d said she was in the neighborhood, but that didn’t mean she was on duty. Bakugo noticed but didn’t comment. He didn’t ask why she just happened to be around, nor would he admit—out loud, at least—that he was grateful for her appearance here. Instead, he watched her move, using the moment to take her in, to really look at her for the first time in years.

It took everything in him to keep his heart from hammering out of his chest. Damn it. He hadn’t felt like this in a long time—not since he cut her off. Was this her fault? Did it even matter? Just get the work done and send her on her way. That was the plan. And yet, despite himself, he couldn’t help but notice the differences in her—how time had refined her, made her even more stunning than she already was. Even more captivating than she looked on camera, and yes he remembered the last time he'd seen her on camera, which was 3 years ago.

"I gotta ask, how long were you planning on ignoring me?" she finally said, her voice casual, but the weight behind her words was impossible to miss. She trailed a hand along the edge of a sleek countertop, eyeing the details of his home with mild curiosity. "It’s been, what—eight years?"

Her tone was lighthearted, but he could hear the subtle thread of something else beneath it. Something real.

She didn’t seem surprised by the modern, minimalist design of his apartment. She knew his parents were designers, after all. The space was expensive, stylish—but simple. Maybe too simple. It told her one thing: he probably wasn’t home much. And she understood that feeling all too well.

As she looked him over, she wished things hadn’t ended the way they had. He’d changed. Sharper features, a taller, more solid frame, but his presence? That was the same. That fire, that spark she’d always loved about him—it was still there.

Bakugo clicked his tongue. "That’s how counting works, doesn’t it?"

Then, narrowing his eyes, he added, "And quit snooping. C’mon."

Without waiting for a response, he turned and started down the hall, expecting her to follow.

She hesitated for half a second before stepping forward. She was surprised he’d let her in this far. After all, it had been years since they’d spoken. He looked back as they walked, watching her pretty hair sway-

---

"Bakubro, wake up! It’s med time."

Bakugo stirred, his head heavy, his body sluggish. A familiar voice cut through the haze. "I was gonna leave, but apparently, you can’t even stay awake on your own right now. Hey, I see you’re awake, stop pretending!"

Bakugo’s eyes blinked open, adjusting to the dim glow of his bedroom. His surroundings had changed again. What the hell? Had he passed out again? His jaw clenched. This could’ve been avoided if he wasn’t so damn weak.

His brows furrowed as a memory flickered in his mind—her voice, her laugh, the sight of her standing in his apartment.

"Was Y/N just here?" His voice came out rough, unsure.

Kirishima paused mid-step, then chuckled. "Uh… no? Dude, are you good? I think you were dreaming."

Bakugo groaned, irritation tightening his muscles. Of course, it wasn’t real. Nothing about this day was going the way he wanted it to.

"Go home. I’ve got this," he grumbled, yanking the pill bottle from Kirishima’s hand. He popped one into his mouth with unnecessary aggression.

"You need to take two—morning and night—"

"I got it!" Bakugo snapped before downing the second pill. He slumped back against the headboard, scowling.

Kirishima sighed, grabbing his stuff. "Look, I know you’re not mad at me. I’ll head out, but don’t do anything you’ll regret, alright?" He patted Bakugo’s shoulder before making his way to the door. "And I’m texting you every time you need to take those meds. No skipping. See ya, man. Stay safe."

Bakugo didn’t respond. He didn’t need to.

He knew exactly what Kirishima was implying. Who he was referring to.

But Bakugo refused to acknowledge it.

He’d done everything he could to erase you from his life, from his thoughts. He’d convinced himself that cutting you off had been the right choice. And yet, his own subconscious had betrayed him—crafted a memory so vivid, so real, that for a split second, he thought you had actually been there. But it wasn't real, that was something he'd hoped for deep down.

His hands curled into fists. He didn’t want this to be a problem again.

Didn’t want you to be a problem again.

But the worst part of it all—the part that pissed him off the most—was that he didn’t regret it as much as he wanted to.

And that?

That was a problem in itself.

[hamsteriffic]

Miraculous Fandom Stats

Ao3 Wrap Up 2023

I don’t know if anyone has done this, I hope I don’t step on anyone’s toes. Here a wrap up for 2023 for Miraculous Ladybug!

This study only assesses the fanfics posted by the last update, so if there was an older fic that was from 2021 that was updated in 2023, this would be captured by this study.

📈 The data presented here is a snapshot of the Fandom on: 05 Jan 2024

🖤 Works posted to Ao3 in 2023

In 2023 there were 10,515 fanfics posted (including crossovers and all languages). The median word count per fanfic was 2,268 words. In general, each fic received 5 comments, 561 hits and 36 kudos (median).

A majority of fanfics were not crossovers (Fig 1). The peak of Ao3 posts for Miraculous Ladybug was in 2021 with a total of 11,350 fanfics. Fanfics with crossovers have had a steady rise in popularity from 2018 with a peak of 2,609 in 2021.

Fig 1. A total number of fanfics posted to Ao3 in 2023 for the Miraculous Ladybug fandom without crossovers (blue line) and with crossovers (dotted line).

Note that this analysis will excludes crossovers (a separate analysis to come!).

Fig 2. Total number of completed fanfics (red) and incomplete fanfics (pink) posted to Ao3 in the Miraculous Ladybug fandom for 2023 (excluding crossovers).

Fig 3. Total number of words per fic published or updated in 2023. The median word count per fanfic in 2023 was 2,268 words.

The most frequently used tags for 2023 were (in descending order):

Fluff (1495)

Angst (1040)

Identity Reveal (982)

Aged-Up Characters (968)

Alternate Universe (732)

Hurt/Comfort (700)

Adrien Needs a Hug (510)

🏆 Highlights in 2023 include

Miraculous Ladybug Season 5 Finale, s05e26, Re-Creation (Part 2) (First Airdate: July 01, 2023) [2]

Ladybug & Cat Noir: The Movie (Released: July 05, 2023) [3]

Miraculous Paris Special (Preview Screening: October 15, 2023) [4]

🖤 Most Tagged Side of the Lovesquare in 2023

Fig 4. Percentage of fanfics tagged with different sides of the Lovesquare.

Note that these are only taking into account fics that use this tag. There may be fanfics that have sides of the Lovesquare that are not indicated. This analysis also includes tags for Marichat May, Ladrien July etc.

Adrinette (34.5%; 737 fics)

LadyNoir (32%; 677 fics)

MariChat (23.5%; 501 fics)

Ladrien (10%; 213 fics)

🖤 Top 10 Characters Pairings on Ao3 (excluding Lovesquare)

Alya/Nino (927 fics)

Luka/Marinette (734 fics)

Juleka/Rose (405 fics)

Nathaniel / Marc (337 fics)

Felix / Marinette (317 fics)

Gabriel / Nathalie (286 fics)

Adrien / Luka (269 fics)

Felix / Kagami (183 fics)

Adrien / Kagami (159 fics)

Kagami / Marinette (158 fics)

There was a large shift in a number of pairings, in particular there was a dramatic increase in the number of fics tagged with Felix Fathom / Kagami Tsurugi (see below the cut for Season 5 spoilers). Other notable mentions are also Marinette Dupain-Cheng / Zoe Lee with a 2.5 fold increase in fanfics posted in 2023 (63 in total) compared to 2022 (26 in total).

🖤 Conclusions

It’s been a big year, and one that is controversial in many ways. I was just curious to see if there’s a decrease in activity since the season 5 finale, but it looks like the fanfiction writing is going strong. But are fans tuning out? Or are we trying to create more fix-it fics? (I will delve into that in a different post, since this was quite labour intensive).

There have been some interesting changes in relationship tags as well as tags for Sentimonsters (below the cut).

Methodology, References and Season 5 Spoilers below the cut:

Warning: Season 5 spoilers below:

🖤 2023 was also the year Feligami became official

This has lead to a dramatic increase in fanfics for the power couple.

Fig 5. The total number of fanfics posted on Ao3 for Felix / Kagami, represented per month saw a dramatic increase since the release of Season 5 in 2023 (blue). In contrast, I have plotted the total number of fanfics per month 2022 (red).

💔 2023 was also when the sentimonster theory was confirmed

Fig 6. Fanfiction that have used tags for Sentimonsters since 2018. Note that this is not a cumulative plot and that the numbers are individual works from each year tagged for Sentimonster.

In 2023, there were 192 works that tagged for Sentimonster Adrien, and 95 for Sentimonster Felix and 34 for Sentimonster Kagami. Recent usage for the tag 'Adrien is not a Sentimonster' was also observed (21 cases).

Please don’t be mad at me. I’m just a stats hamster.

Methodology

Filtering

The analyses start from Sep 05, 2012 when the first promotional video (PV) for Miraculous Ladybug was publicly leaked [1].

Since the website is very active, the information may change as this data is best considered to be a snapshot of the fanfics posted at this point in time. Also note that the filter is also for last update, and not first posted, so that older fics may be captured in later datasets. But for the purposes of this study, I am assuming that if the author is updating, then they are still active in the fandom.

To get an idea on what was posted to Ao3 this year, I have filtered for last published date 01 Jan 2023 - 31 Dec 2023. Note that while there was only an option for selecting by Last Post Date, which meant that works originally posted earlier (pre-2023) would still be captured if it was updated within the bounds of these dates.

Furthermore, it is also possible to backdate works on Ao3 which may also give false results. However, it may be likely that if this did happen it would only be a small percentage of fanworks. As such the data is an approximation of fandom activity during 2023.

Relationship Tags

I have followed the Ao3 rules so that / are taken to mean romantic relations and & for platonic relationships. In this analysis, I have combined the numbers for Felix (PV), Felix Graham de Vanily and Felix Fathom.

References

[1] Miraculous PV (https://miraculousladybug.fandom.com/wiki/Ladybug_PV)

[2] Miraculous Ladybug Re-Creation (s05e25) World Premiere (Switzerland) (https://miraculousladybug.fandom.com/wiki/Re-creation_(The_Final_Day_-_Part_2)#google_vignette)

[3] Ladybug & Cat Noir: The Movie (https://m.imdb.com/title/tt10364034/releaseinfo/)

[4] Miraculous Paris Special (https://miraculousladybug.fandom.com/wiki/Miraculous_Paris)

[jules-has-notes]

Bang! — VoicePlay music video

The realities of growing up can be tough at any age, but the transition from childhood freedom to adult responsibility might be the most difficult. Luckily, VoicePlay proves that arriving at a designated number of years doesn't mean you have to give up having fun with your friends. These big kids make life's little bothers sound very good.

Details:

title: Bang! (feat. Deejay Young)

original performers: AJR

written by: Adam, Jack, & Ryan Met

arranged by: Layne Stein, Jessie "J.None" Nunn III, & Hannah Juliano

release date: 26 February 2021

My favorite bits:

Geoff replicating the synthesizer bend in his opening bass line

Deejay and J.None's tentative tone on the melody in the first verse

all the breathy sounds Layne puts into his percussion

the delicate stacato echoed backing vocals in the chorus

Geoff's fun-dad enthusiasm on the first "Here we go!"

the extra grit Eli puts on the falling ♫ "with a bang" ♫

the contrast between Geoff's rollercoaster descent on ♫ "time to groOo-oOo-ow" ♫ and the standing trio's rising harmonies

that quick wind-down at the end of ♫ "up to somthing" ♫

replacing the "metronome" in the original with "majorize" as a transition into the new key

J.None's cheerful tone in the major section

Layne's descending tom line as the key reverts back

those plucked-string harmonies as Geoff moseys down into the sub(harmonic)-basement

the slow bell chord culminating with that impressive harmonized riffing from Deejay, Eli, and J.None (plus Layne's appropriate stank face reaction to it)

all the playful antics from the guys in the final section 🟡🦆🧸

Deejay's ridiculous descending riff on ♫ "waaay too old to cry" ♫

that clean cut-off

Trivia:

This video was filmed at Wall Crawl Studio in Orlando, which is also frequently used by their friends in Vocatve.

The YouTube description includes a reminder for U.S. fans: "don't forget to do your taxes!", which happens to be relevant again at the time of posting. (Ugh.)

This was Deejay's first appearance in a VoicePlay video, made possible by the Hamilton tour being on pandemic hiatus, but they'd known each other for many years. When Deejay was a member of Echo, they had served as VoicePlay's backups during their three holiday season residencies in Mickey's Very Merry Christmas Party at Disney World.

J.None and Deejay had also been friends for a while before either officially worked with VP. They initially met through mutual friends who knew they had a lot in common. They were then castmates in the "Beetlejuice Mashup" show at Universal Studios, and in American Music Machine at Disney World. J was a featured guest at Deejay's acoustic show in June 2015 (as was Deejay's longtime pal Cesar De La Rosa).

Everyone is wearing a leopard print item — Eli's glasses frames, Deejay's scarf, J.None's shirt, Geoff's watch band, and Layne's belt (which you can't actually see, but was confirmed on Patreon). Not to mention the throw pillows on the couch and the rug beneath it, and the wallpaper in Deejay's solo space.

The base of the percussion in AJR's original recording was created by sampling the knock from the boys' apartment door and altering the pitch. The prompting voice is Charlie Pellett, one of the announcers from the New York City subway system, who the brothers heard growing up.

The voiceplay_randomness Instagram account created a video that speeds up a tiny bit everytime someone sings the titular word. It gets so fast by the end.

A Japanese fan drew some very cool fanart that remixed the guys and the location's vibrant decor to create a 90s-anime-style splash image.

art by Kei Yuzubuki

[solidrockistand]

Praise of God's Law pt 4

25. I am laid low in the dust; preserve my life according to your word. (For our soul is bowed down to the dust, our belly clings to the ground. Psalms 44:25 ESV)

(For your name's sake, O Lord, preserve my life! In your righteousness bring my soul out of trouble. Psalms 143:11 ESV)

26. I recounted my ways, and you answered me; teach me your decrees. (Make me to know your ways, O Lord; teach me your paths. Psalms 25:4 ESV)

(Teach me your ways, O Lord, and lead me on a level path because of my enemies. Psalms 27:11 ESV)

(And in your steadfast love you will cut off my enemies, and you will destroy all the adversaries of my soul for I am your servant Psalms 143:12)

27. Let me understand the teachings of your precepts; then I will meditate on your wonders. (Sing to him, sing praises to him; tell of all his wonderous works! Psalms 105:2 ESV)

(On the glorious splendor of your majesty, and on your wonderous works, I will meditate. Psalms 145:5 ESV)

28. My soul is weary with sorrow; strengthen me according to your word (My eye wastes away because of grief; it grows weak because of all my foes. Psalms 6:7 ESV)

(The snares of death encompassed me; the pangs of sheol laid hold on me; I suffer distress and anguish. Psalms 116:3 ESV)

(And the ransomed of the Lord shall return and come to Zion with singing everlasting joy shall be upon their heads they shall obtain gladness and joy, and sorrow and sighting shall flee away. Isaiah 51:11 ESV)

29. Keep me from deceitful ways be gracious to me through your law. (He who has clean hands and a pure heart, who does not lift up his soul to what is false and does not swear deceitfully. Psalms 24:4 ESV)

(The Lord makes his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you. Numbers 6:25 ESV)

(I love you, Lord; you are my strength. Psalms 18:1 NLT)

30. I have chosen the way of truth; I have set my heart on your laws. (Then Joshua said to the people, you are witnesses against yourselves that you have chosen the Lord to serve him. "and they said "we are witnesses." Joshua 24:22 ESV)

(For I am constantly aware of your unfailing love, and I have lived according to your truth Psalms 26:3ESV)

31. I hold fast to your statutes, O Lord; do not let me be put to shame (You shall fear the Lord your God. You shall serve him and hold fast to him, and by his name you shall swear. Deuteronomy 10:20 ESV)

(My heart is confident in you, O God; no wonder I can sing praises! WAKE UP, MY SOUL! Psalms 108:1 ESV)

32. I run in the path of your commands, for you have set my heart free. (If you do this, then the Lord will keep the promise he made to me. "If your descendants live as they should and follow me faithfully with all their heart and soul one of them will always sit on the throne of Israel. 1st kings 2:4 NLT)

(He shall build a house for my name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever 2 Samuel 7:13 ESV)

Psalms 119:25-32 NIV

[somethingclevermahogony]

OC Intro: Otilia

Hello everyone! This intro is way overdue by like a month now, oops.

Anyway! The new poll will be up in the next couple of days! I hope y'all enjoy getting to know Otilia!

Name: Otilia (Written below in the Korithian Script)

Otilia is a Korithian and as such she comes from an entirely different naming tradition when compared to the Kishites. It is traditional for Korithian women to be named after their Father and Grandfather, combined into a single name. As such while there is a limited number of masculine names within the Korithian language, there are many varied feminine names. Otilia is the result of her father, Otiros and her grandfather, Likiteres. Her two sisters are named in similar fashion though with different variations on the combination.

This Continues below the cut!

Family

Father: Otiros (Dead)

Mother: Abalia (Alive)

Sister: Otilikia (Alive)

Sister: Likotia (Alive)

Brother: Panatos (Alive)

Grandfather: Likiteres (Dead)

Husband (Estranged): Wadaxes (Alive)

Homeland/Place of Origin

Kalmanati, Eastern Korithia

Ethncity

Bokisic Korithians are those Korithians who inhabit the largest of the Korithian Isles, Bokis. Bokisic-Korithians account for upwards of 70% of the entire population. While descended from Arkodians they also present with strong Baalkic and Kishite influences. This is one reason why these people are, on average, taller than other Korithian ethnic groups.

History

Otilia was born roughly 26 years before the start of the story in the wealthy port city of Kalmanati. Korithian culture and that of Kalmanati in particular is highly patriarchal and highly conservative. She was the eldest child of the wine merchant Otiros and the Makoric-Korithian Abalia. Otilia inherited her mother's auburn hair, a trait none of her younger siblings would share, making her well-known in her home city.

Otiros was quite wealthy and lived with his family in a large manor attended by 23 slaves. As such, he showered gifts on his three daughters, all born within six years of one another. The children were taught decorum, and Otilia was brought to business meetings and negotiations. Although Korithian tradition is highly patriarchal and did not intend for her to be truly involved, she was expected to one day advise her husband on his own trade.

From a young age, Otilia showed a streak of independence, often sneaking away from the expensive tutoring lessons paid for by her father. In this way, she was somewhat similar to Ninma, over two decades later.

Initially, her disobedience angered her father, but it was through her mother, who had never been taught to read or write, that Otilia gained an interest in her studies. Otilia would read to her mother stories and poems, some of her own creation. This was the highlight of her relationship with her mother, which was otherwise often highly argumentative. This sparked Otilia’s passion for learning. By age 11, she could speak Korithian and Kishite, and could read and write in both, as well as in Baalkic script.

Korithian marriages are arranged, often centered around matters of business. Such was the case for Otilia. She had never shown particular interest in marriage or boys. Many men, of various ages, petitioned Otiros for her hand. Ultimately, he decided on a fellow wine merchant, an even wealthier man named Wadaxes.

The wedding took place only days after the agreement was made. Otilia was 16 on her wedding day. Upon meeting her new husband, a man over twice her age, she begged her father to reconsider. Embarrassed and enraged, her father pulled her aside and scolded her. This devolved into a loud and nearly violent argument. Otiros swore never to lay eyes on his daughter again and promptly left her with her new husband. Otilia tried to live a good life, attending to her husband and completing domestic duties, all while secretly continuing to write and read, creating an extensive collection of poems and stories, many of which centered around her struggles with finding happiness with her husband.

While initially kind, Wadaxes revealed his true nature after four years of marriage when Otilia seemingly could not bear a child, despite one instance of Wadaxes’s infidelity resulting in a birth.

Wadaxes attempted to divorce Otilia, a process in Korithian culture that would necessitate the repayment of any dowry or agreements and the "return" of Otilia to her family's patriarch. However, Otilia’s father refused any offer that Wadaxes made, unwilling to take her back. Wadaxes then petitioned the city council, but since Otilia had done nothing to prevent him from producing children by other means, there were no grounds to end the marriage due to her infertility. Despite Otilia's own wish to be rid of her increasingly cruel spouse, the conservative nature of the council forbid women from initiating divorce in any circumstance, or even addressing the council. Thus, by Korithian law, Wadaxes could not divorce his wife.

Wadaxes took out his frustrations on Otilia by insulting her, refusing to let her into bed, and even forbidding the slaves from feeding her. In time, this active abuse simmered into mutual loathing. Wadaxes would intentionally bring prostitutes home to dine, often in the presence of guests and important people, to humiliate Otilia. At other times, he would disappear for days without warning.

In one instance, Wadaxes found Otilia's collection of poems and musings and narrated these private thoughts to a room of drunken merchants and their wives. Only a poorly timed storm prevented her from running away that day.

Otilia endured these conditions for years until her father contracted a respiratory disease, which would ultimately be fatal. By this point, her husband had already chosen a new "wife," a mistress he kept in their home full-time. Seeing an opportunity to finally be rid of Otilia, Wadaxes planned to negotiate the divorce with the new patriarch of Otilia’s family, her younger brother Panatos.

Upon hearing this plan and learning of her father's declining health, Otilia devised a plot of her own. In an act of petty revenge, she forged a letter from her husband and used it to commandeer one of his ships and crew, sailing far away. By doing so, she denied Wadaxes the pleasure of giving her away and delayed his ability to remarry until she was found or declared dead or vanished, a process that could potentially take decades.

Her escape took her across the Green Sea to a place she had often heard about in stories and the markets of Kalmanati—the city of Labisa.

Appearance

Otilia is tall, standing about 5'5", which is notably above the average height of 5'0" for Korithian women. She has the typical olive skin and brown eyes of her people. Her most striking feature, however, is her auburn hair—a rarity south of Makora. This perceived exoticness made her highly desired by the bachelors of Kalmanati.

Personality

Otilia is a kind and caring person, eager and curious to learn new things. However, she is also prone to sarcasm, and her time learning from her father and observing his business dealings has cultivated a certain cunning and slyness in her. She possesses a keen understanding of people and knows how to use this to her advantage. Highly intelligent and well-read on a variety of topics, Otilia's blend of empathy, wit, and shrewdness makes her a formidable and complex individual.

Gender/Pronouns

Cis-woman She/Her

Sexual Orientation

Lesbian

Relationships

Otilia's relationship with her family is abyssmal. Her relationship with her "husband" is even worse. Upon first escaping she was worried that Wadaxes may send someone to find her. A fear which was quickly lessoned by time and the presence of Narul.

She acts in some sense as an adoptive partent to Ninma alongside Narul.

She is partners with the Kishite, Shela.

Favorite Color

Blue

Favorite Food

Daropaka, Korithian Cheesecake (Find the recipe here!)

Biggest Fear

Losing what she has found and made of herself since escaping.

Sage?

No

Literate?

Yes

Excerpt

Someone sat at his other shoulder, and he looked, expecting to see Suru or Bira. But instead there sat the Korithian. “I haven’t had the chance to properly thank you.” Her Kishite was quite good though it had a sort of stiff formality to it. Her shoulders were pulled back, her spine painfully straight. Narul had seen these same kinds of mannerisms from the various aristocratic men and women who would visit Hutbari’s court from the lands to the west. She was tall and thin, her eyes sharp. Her auburn hair was disheveled, her curls tangled. “Oh, that’s fine.” Narul muttered. The Korithian frowned and turned to him. “It is not. I owe you. I do not know how this sort of thing works for you easterners, but for us, a debt like this is a very serious thing. My name is Otilia, and you're Naro, yes?” She looked at him quizzically. “Um, Narul.” He corrected. Otilia nodded, mouthing the word, trying to nail it into her mind.  Narul against his better judgment turned to Otilia and asked. “So are you…meeting your husband somewhere?” Otilia looked at him, confused. “My husband?”Narul covered his mouth, mortified. “Oh I am so sorry, did he…you know?” “My husband is in Kalmanati. And I'm not in too much of a hurry to see him again.” Otilia chuckled.

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The Command to Leave Sinai

1 Then the Lord said to Moses, “Leave this place, you and the people you brought up out of Egypt, and go up to the land I promised on oath to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, saying, ‘I will give it to your descendants.’ 2 I will send an angel before you and drive out the Canaanites, Amorites, Hittites, Perizzites, Hivites and Jebusites. 3 Go up to the land flowing with milk and honey. But I will not go with you, because you are a stiff-necked people and I might destroy you on the way.”

4 When the people heard these distressing words, they began to mourn and no one put on any ornaments. 5 For the Lord had said to Moses, “Tell the Israelites, ‘You are a stiff-necked people. If I were to go with you even for a moment, I might destroy you. Now take off your ornaments and I will decide what to do with you.’” 6 So the Israelites stripped off their ornaments at Mount Horeb.

The Tent of Meeting

7 Now Moses used to take a tent and pitch it outside the camp some distance away, calling it the “tent of meeting.” Anyone inquiring of the Lord would go to the tent of meeting outside the camp. 8 And whenever Moses went out to the tent, all the people rose and stood at the entrances to their tents, watching Moses until he entered the tent. 9 As Moses went into the tent, the pillar of cloud would come down and stay at the entrance, while the Lord spoke with Moses. 10 Whenever the people saw the pillar of cloud standing at the entrance to the tent, they all stood and worshiped, each at the entrance to their tent. 11 The Lord would speak to Moses face to face, as one speaks to a friend. Then Moses would return to the camp, but his young aide Joshua son of Nun did not leave the tent.

Moses and the Glory of the Lord

12 Moses said to the Lord, “You have been telling me, ‘Lead these people,’ but you have not let me know whom you will send with me. You have said, ‘I know you by name and you have found favor with me.’ 13 If you are pleased with me, teach me your ways so I may know you and continue to find favor with you. Remember that this nation is your people.”

14 The Lord replied, “My Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.”

15 Then Moses said to him, “If your Presence does not go with us, do not send us up from here. 16 How will anyone know that you are pleased with me and with your people unless you go with us? What else will distinguish me and your people from all the other people on the face of the earth?”

17 And the Lord said to Moses, “I will do the very thing you have asked, because I am pleased with you and I know you by name.”

18 Then Moses said, “Now show me your glory.”

19 And the Lord said, “I will cause all my goodness to pass in front of you, and I will proclaim my name, the Lord, in your presence. I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion. 20 But,” he said, “you cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live.”

21 Then the Lord said, “There is a place near me where you may stand on a rock. 22 When my glory passes by, I will put you in a cleft in the rock and cover you with my hand until I have passed by. 23 Then I will remove my hand and you will see my back; but my face must not be seen.” — Exodus 33 | New International Version (NIV) Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV® Copyright ©1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® All rights reserved worldwide. Cross References: Genesis 6:8; Genesis 12:7; Exodus 3:7-8; Exodus 3:10; Exodus 3:12; Exodus 5:1; Exodus 23:30; Exodus 23:27; Exodus 32:34; Exodus 34:6; Leviticus 20:24; Leviticus 20:26; Numbers 12:8; Numbers 14:1; Numbers 14:39; Deuteronomy 4:37; 1 Kings 19:9; Psalm 18:2; Psalm 80:3; Psalm 80:7; Psalm 91:1; Psalm 91:4; Isaiah 45:3; John 1:18; John 14:21; Acts 7:36; Acts 7:51; Romans 9:15; 1 Timothy 6:16

Exodus 33 Commentary - John Gill's Exposition of the Bible

Key Passages in Exodus 33

1. The Lord refuses to go as he had promised with the people 4. The people mourn there 7. The tabernacle is removed out of the camp 9. The Lord talks familiarly with Moses 12. Moses prevails with God, and desires to see his glory